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foxzai · 12 days

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This was a long fic but one of the best I've read.

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — 𝑀𝒴 𝒩𝒜𝑀𝐸 𝒲𝒪𝒰𝐿𝒟 𝐿𝒪𝒪𝒦 𝐵𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸𝑅 𝒜𝑅𝒪𝒰𝒩𝒟 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒩𝐸𝒞𝒦 ᰔ

notes: dazai replaces your favorite nameplate necklace with one of his own name—but that's just the beginning of him trying to make you his forever ‧₊˚ ⋅ 3k words.

warnings: fem reader. dc. yandere themes (but it's gentle). port mafia!dazai and port mafia!reader.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

dazai isn't sure when he first fell in love with you—he thinks it may have been the moment he saw you add an ungodly amount of cream and sugar to your coffee.

"y'want some?" you'd asked, handing him the sugar shaker.

he smiled, taking it from your hand. "sure." of course he does, sweet and weak—that's how he likes his coffee. he thinks maybe that's how he'd like you as well.

it was only a passing moment, a gentle brush of your arm against his as you returned the small creamer pitcher to its rightful place before moving on, but it was enough for him—enough to have him carefully calculating how quickly he could make you fall in love with him, how long it might take to break you entirely and mold you into someone who wanted to be his everything—someone he could die with.

the low buzz of the port mafia headquarters had faded to nothing around him in that moment, sipping on his little coffee as the world emptied, only looking at you—all the little partially-healed bruises decorating your face painting a map for his fingers, the way your skin gave away the slight bite from the cold you'd just escaped—you were just utterly gorgeous. his mind was circling—it was that moment, he thinks, he knew he wanted you to be his and his alone, forever.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏

it's only been a few months since dazai fell in love with you, and although he was feeling confident when your relationship started, he now finds himself lost as to how to keep you. you've been distant lately, he can feel it in his bones—like you're a million miles away from him, and he doesn't like that.

"mmmh—dazai?" your sleepy voice always makes him melt. he brushes a few strands of hair from your face before kissing your forehead.

"go back to sleep, love."

"why are you staring at me?" your voice increases in volume the more you're tugged away from your sleep. you laugh a little, and he laughs with you—though he isn't sure why, it's almost just instinctive for his feelings to match yours perfectly. "you're so weird, babe."

"aww, don't say that, pretty girl—is watching my beautiful angel sleep really that weird?" he's pouting now.

"that face won't work on me, osamu. you were staring at me, i caught you." you giggle before resting your head on his chest once more, sighing deeply as your heartbeat slows—he can feel it against his chest, and it makes him think you're connected by something greater than just the endorphins and serotonin dancing around in both of your heads.

you're the one he fell in love with, the only one he'll ever give his heart to—he'd decided that the moment he saw you. but now he's scared—nervous. he's never fallen this deep into a relationship before. really, he's never actually had a real relationship at all. his numerous hookups never amounted to much, though he was never disappointed by the fact.

dazai admires the female form—he's been open about that. he's never been able to resist a beautiful woman, and though his intentions were never to hurt any of his previous partners, he knows he's broken a few hearts here and there along the way. but you, he could never hurt you—he'd rather die himself, but this newfound vulnerability has him feeling on edge constantly. maybe you aren't falling away from him, maybe it's just all in his head, he thinks.

"i could stare at you forever," he's talking to himself now, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest telling him you've fallen asleep again already.

as the room fills with quietness again, he eyes the little rose gold necklace hanging around your neck—he's always hated that necklace. truthfully, he loves your name—it sounds so sweet each time he hears it, no matter whose lips it comes from, though he'd prefer it to be his own every time.

my name would look better around your neck, he thinks. dazai doesn't understand how he's fallen so helplessly in love with you, it wasn't even a choice. the moment he saw you, making you his just felt like the right thing to do—like the only thing to do.

he moves slowly so as not to wake you, unclasping the delicate chain and slipping it from your neck. this doesn't suit you, darling, he thinks as he examines the nameplate pendant hanging from his fingers, his other arm tucked under you tightly, wrapped around you and squeezing you to him. we'll get you something better, yeah? something prettier.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐

"i got you a little something," dazai places the little silver box on the dinner table, "for my pretty girl."

you wipe your mouth with your napkin, smiling brightly before reaching over the table to grab the box, "you didn't have to do that, osamu—what is it?" you're only being polite—he knows you're excited. it's been six months, after all—he can get you a present, right? it's not too much?

"just open it, love."

you open the box to reveal a silver nameplate necklace—the word "osamu" spelled out in delicate cursive letters. you gasp, "ah, it's gorgeous, 'samu!" your smile fades quickly though, and dazai thinks maybe he's fucked up. a wave of disappointment washes over him when you close the box. "i can't accept this, babe. it looks really expensive." the slight frown on your face has something ugly bubbling up in dazai's stomach, and he's not sure he likes it. don't you want everyone to know you're his? you're practically the apple of everyone's eye in the port mafia—he can't have anyone else thinking they have a chance with you.

"no, no—i want you to have it, angel. had it made just for you. you lost your last one, right?" truthfully, dazai practically runs the port mafia, and has more money than he can spend himself. a gift like this won't even make a dent in his bank account—but the thought of you carrying a little reminder of him with you everywhere you go, that much is priceless.

you frown at that, opening the box again and looking down at the necklace, your eyes sparkling as they follow the little diamonds decorating each letter. "ugh, yeah, i still miss it. i still don't understand how i lost it—i never take it off." he knows you miss it, it was a gift from your parents, one you treasured—you'd told him so. but that didn't stop him from taking it. you sound annoyed now, but your eyes quickly soften when you glance down at the necklace again. "alright, 'samu, i'll accept it. it is gorgeous."

he smiles at that, "shall i put it on you, then, love?" you nod and he circles the table, taking the necklace from you and delicately placing it around your neck, clasping it as you hold your hair up for him before he kisses the soft skin beneath your ear.

"how do i look?" you beam, letting your hair down.

"gorgeous. beautiful. sexy."

you roll your eyes, "stop it, 'samu. you think i'm better than i am."

"i know what you are—the most stunning person in the world." he leans down to kiss your lips softly, and you welcome the taste of him by wrapping your arms around his neck, nibbling his bottom lip softly before pulling away.

"thank you, babe. it's perfect. a little reminder of you everywhere i go, i love it." your smile is enough to comfort him even in his darkest moments—you've always been that way. he kisses you again, deeper and more passionately this time, cradling the back of your head as he groans and presses his tongue deeper into your mouth, intermingling with yours. he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. "bedroom," you breathe against his lips. "it's a special occasion, yeah? so fuck me like you mean it."

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑

"dazai, it's our anniversary—why are you being like this?" he hates when you use his last name, it makes him feel even further from you than he already is in that moment—he never wants to miss a single beat of your heart, doesn't want a single breath to escape your lips without him—he wants to be there for all of your highs and lows, all of your happy and sad moments—everything.

and yet, you act like it's a bad thing for him to care so much—he only wants to keep you safe and warm, why can't you just give him what he wants? it was only a harmless question, why are you being so defensive? are you hiding something from him?

"being like what, exactly? you're covered in bruises, would you prefer i be indifferent to that? would that make you happier?" would that make you stay? his voice is so deep and hollow, it almost scares him how detached he feels from the world around him—he doesn't recognize any of it anymore. this isn't the life he wanted, this isn't the person you promised you would be. this isn't the person he swore he'd live for.

you told him you'd never leave, and he foolishly believed it.

it's almost as though he's not even living, but simply floating. "i guess loving so deeply is wrong in your eyes. . . perhaps you'd prefer i just not care at all." he feels utterly defeated, like he's talking to a mirror who can only stare back at him, can only replicate his emotions, but could never truly empathize with them.

he wants to die for a reason—that reason is because he's bored. he can't handle the indifference of everyone around him anymore—why doesn't anyone else realize we're all just playing a silly little game, afraid to show our true colors for fear our ugliness will have us sent straight to hell? this life is completely, and utterly, pointless—even more so now that he realizes you'll never truly understand him. he'll never have you the way he really wants.

it's tragic, really, how lost he feels without you. even still, he'll never let you go. even if you never love him the way he loves you, he'll stay—even if it means he can only share a few more breaths with you, that you'll only glance his way a few more times—he'll never, ever, ever leave you.

"it's not about the bruises, osamu—i've suffered plenty of bruises over the years working for the mafia. it's about the fact you think i fucked someone to get them." did you, angel? did you betray me? did you think of me when you were fucking him?

"they don't look the same as the other bruises you've had, that's all." he isn't looking at you now, he can't bear the look in your eyes—almost like you pity him, like you don't even want him in your world at all. is it all in his head, like all of the other times? he doesn't know anymore—he's lost, and confused, and it truly looks like you hate him.

"that's all you needed to say. you don't trust me, why? i've loved you with all of my heart, osamu—i don't know what else i can fucking do." you sound like you're on the verge of crying, and he doesn't understand why. you're the one leaving him, aren't you? aren't you the one who fell in love with someone else? or is he simply living in his head again, drowning in the nightmare he fabricated from nothing at all? "we can't do this forever, osamu. i'm tired. . . i'm just, so tired of this."

he's tired, too. tired of pretending. tired of hiding from you.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒

"do you remember when we first met?"

"yes, of course."

"i wish we could go back to that." your voice trails off, and dazai's heart breaks at that. "what did you do, osamu? don't lie to me." your voice is commanding, but he's still too scared to tell you the whole truth—he's never lied to you, necessarily, he simply avoids the truth when he feels it could pull you further away from him. is he a bad person for doing so? he doesn't see it that way—it's just how his love for you pours from his veins by nature. what could be wrong with loving someone in such a beautiful and ugly way all at once?

"what do you mean, my angel? i didn't do anything." he didn't do anything he considers wrong, is what he means.

"yes, you did. you hurt someone."

"i've hurt many people. killed many people. it's never bothered you before." he doesn't raise his voice, but simply states it as a matter of fact—almost like it's something you should be numb to after over a year together.

"when we met, i thought you were the most beautiful person i'd ever seen. i knew you'd be the only woman i would ever love—that's what i remember."

"answer my question, osamu. or i'm leaving."

his heart clenches in his chest at the thought of you walking out, but he doesn't say a word in response—not because he doesn't have anything to say, but simply because he knows where this is going—and he wants to get it over with as soon as possible.

"he's my friend, dazai, and you hurt him." why are you calling him by his last name? do not you love him anymore?

"he hurt you," he responds flatly, as if he's done nothing wrong.

"it wasn't on purpose."

dazai doesn't want to hear any more claims of your partner's innocence—you got hurt on his watch, he deserves to die, as far as dazai is concerned. the only reason your partner got off easy was because dazai knew you'd be upset with him if he actually killed someone you care about. but actions have consequences, and hurting the person most precious to him suffers the most heinous—even when the perpetrator is one of his subordinates.

"i just want you to be honest with me," you state sadly. "what are you hiding from me?" your words surprise him as you step closer, "you should know by now, osamu. i'll love every side of you—the good and the bad. stop running from me."

"you don't want to see all of me."

"i do."

"you'll run, trust me, darling."

"i won't. i want you—i just want you, the real you."

how can he show you everything? how can he tell you everything? no one could love someone so cruel and heartless—so selfish and scheming and manipulating. ask any of his subordinates—he isn't a good man. he kills at the drop of a hat. he lusts after death. he disposes of those who are of no use to him. he loves you selfishly and disgustingly and desperately—taking all that you can give him although he knows he doesn't deserve it and never will.

"you took my necklace."

dazai flinches at that, "what?"

"you took my necklace, last year—i know you did."

he sighs at that.

"why? it was a gift, you know it meant a lot to me." you look confused and desperate, as if you've wanted to ask him this for a long time.

"because i'm selfish—because i wanted to claim you. because i want everyone to know you're mine. is that what you want to hear? i'm a disgusting person."

"dazai. . .?"

"i want to fuck you in front of my subordinates and let them all know you belong to me—i don't want anyone looking at you, i don't want anyone touching you or thinking about you or breathing the same fucking air that you do. shall i go on, princess? or have you heard enough?" he isn't angry, he's just tired, tired of pretending to be something he's not—tired of pretending he doesn't love you so much it rips him apart inside.

"no-" your voice stops him as he turns to walk away, "keep going. i need to hear everything."

"you're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart." he doesn't look at your face, afraid of what he'll see in your expression—fear, anger, resentment. he can't bear it.

"i need to know everything," your hand slips in his as you approach him, pulling his face to yours as your lips graze his, "i need to know you, osamu dazai—the real you. let me in, you won't scare me away."

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓

dazai didn't think he could ever feel this good—not until this moment, when he's got you drunk on his cock and submitting to him the way he's always dreamt of—it's the filthiest sex you've ever had, and yet, the most gentle as well.

he has you bent in half in a mating press, something you've never let him do before—and your little body pinned beneath his, no way to escape even if you wanted to, has him rock hard, "ya like that, angel? y'wanna be mine, yeah? you're all mine."

"nghh- all yours, osamu. is this- w-what you wanted?"

"you're gonna love me now, yeah?" his voice is strained as he spreads your legs more, pressing deeper until he feels the gentle kiss of your cervix on the tip of his cock.

"g'nna cum again, 'samu, fuck." dazai is fucking you relentlessly—it's been this way for hours. once you told him you'd never leave, that you'd marry him and spend your life with him and die for him if he wanted you to. . . there was no hope left for him.

he can't get enough of you, he's never been able to get enough of you. he wants to breathe you in, wants to permeate your soul, wants to know what's going on in your mind—his favorite place to run and hide. he needs you, he lives for you, and in the end, he'll die for you.

"you're all i want, princess- nothing else, j-just you. . . just, fuck, love me. please love me. i need you to love me."

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