Blushing red, raining blue

A fanfiction dedicated to Dazai Osamu, my all - time favorite anime/manga character from Kafka Asagiri's "Bungou Stray Dogs".

     Joined the mafia at 10, started spiraling at 14.

     The first chapter of your life wasn't exactly idle. With your silver tongue, you climbed your ranks steadily, maybe too fast for your own good, to become Port Mafia's best dealer. Due to your profession, you rarely spent your days in Yokohama, so meeting him in that secluded bar called Lupin was quite an interesting twist of fate.

     Dazai started the whole ordeal by asking for your hand in a double suicide. What else? Dazai was always weirding out other people with his overly cheerful suicidal antics for his own amusement. What the man did not expect was to get a taste of his own medicine that night you first met. How? Frankly speaking, Dazai found your response, your demeanor, or, to put it short, your mere existense extremely peculiar. Meanwhile, he figured that your oddness made the both of you very much alike. He could see right through your facade: Behind that casual vibe and nice smile, you were just as calculating, broken, and lonely as he was. The man could find comfort in talking to you. Yes, actually talking - not flirting like he did with every other female couterpart. You always came off a bit challenging to him, which amused him to no end. Sparse and random run-intos at Lupin followed that first encounter.

     Dazai never thought he would have friends. But then, life has given him Odasaku and Ango. And since that night, you.

 

     You were out of characters that evening. Quieter.

     The deafening sound of rain hitting the ground embellished the peace at Lupin and your unusual persona. Were you even trying to hide your wavering state? Because he had noticed your eyes filled with sadness and nostalgia, right away. Dazai huffed. Well, who doesn't have bad days? He also had driven to the bar, albeit the pouring rain, to get a relief after Akutagawa had messed up big time earlier. Again. And you were pushing his temper with your tasteless responses whenever he tried to lighten up just a little. "Just drinking, no talking then" - Dazai grumbled as he ordered another shot. The liquor burned his throat, hopefully all of his frustration and sorrow, too.

     Alcohol yeast clouded his vision, Dazai stumbled into the pool of darkness and chaos that was his own mind. The brew was not any help at this point of dismal. Acting more on insticts than on rational thinking, Dazai contemplated you for the first time. You were not that beautiful. He saw your soft locks were dampened by the merciless pour. He noticed how your wrinkled blouse clung to the curves that filled out your growing body. His eyes stayed at the sight of lipstick smeared on your lips, which trembled everytime you let out a soft, yet heavy sigh. But there were no other women around for him to have his way with. 

      "To hell with this s**t" - Dazai thought, as he felt himself repeating the vicious cycle of self-pity (or self-hate) and decadence for the hundredth time. In a heartbeat, his lips were capturing yours, whereas his lanky arms imprisoned your upper body. You gasped in surprise, your intoxicated mind couldn't process what the hell was happening fast enough. Seconds later, you two stumbled out to the parking lot. Both of you fumbled with the buttons amateurishly. Needless to say, you lost your first to Dazai that night. Pissed drunk. At a bar parking lot.

     Reminiscing the whole experience, Dazai sensed a pang of guilt for doing that to his collaegue just to let out of his frustration. But the sex appeased his burden, so it probably did the same for you. When you two were still recovering from the hangover in his backseat, in response to your warning "No strings attached", Dazai just scoffed. Keep that warning for yourself.

 

 

     The mafioso's nimble fingers travelled South.

     Sex with you felt peculiar. He was not himself that first night. The mafioso recalled how needy and hasty he was - all the clumsy kisses and fervent touches you shared. Just like two hormonal teenagers. Dazai shuddered at the thought, he did not welcome any of this. At all.

     "This should be the last" - The young man said internally while having you beneath him. He decided he was getting bored of you. After four times this occassional hook - up happened, he had already known all the exact, spot - on places that makes you roll your eyes. Sex with you was not that extraordinary, afterall. It was just the alcohol that possessed him to feel... whatever it was during that first time at the bar. Port Mafia executive or not, you were just another naive, predictable fling in his hands, it turned out...

     Cutting sharply his train of thoughts were you squeezing the life out of him. Dazai groaned out loudly from the new found pleasure. His eyes widened in surprise as you unexpectedly bit down on that spot on his shoulder blade. He hissed at the arousing sensation of nails clawing on his back just right. A needy moan escaped his parting lips at the sudden wave of pleasure rushed through him and flowed out uncontrollably. In the swiftest manner, Dazai was already flipped on his back. His mind was still floating pleasantly in the sea of pleasure, from the most abrupt climax he had ever had. The executive shifted his gaze up to you and your lips stretched out into a cheeky, victorious smile. With an observation Dazai didn't know you had, all the inquiring touches and butterfly kisses so subtle that were meant to be left out... You knew his sweet spots just as well.

     It was the very first and the only time the notorious Port Mafia evil prodigy, Dazai Osamu, had ever lost control.

 

 

     You were the one to pull the strings he did not know he had in the most delightful way.

     Not in a million year would he have thought that a woman could dominate him like you did, especially when you just lost your innocence to him just weeks prior. You were a tactical, dangerous mafia member, just like he was. He knew it might possible for you to take the reign at some point. But this, this was too new, too foreign. Being with you completely surpassed all of his wildest predictions.

     You demanded complete obedience from him, and Dazai was craving the rewarding sex that followed. With fingers wrapped around his neck, you brought him to the edge everytime you got it on. He never thought he could tolerate sadistic remarks being directed at him. That said, to his amazement, upon you saying what a debauched, dirty mess he was for you in that tantalizing voice, he did not feel idignant, not even one bit. You got the mafioso tiptoeing on the fine line of pain and pure pleasure. His senses hightened, he could feel everything. The act was so vivid, so lively. Living in this bloody world, the thought of losing control could make any mafioso's skin crawl with goosebumps. And yet, Dazai had found immense comfort in being the submissive. Not having to decide nor taking the reign opened up a whole new world of sensuality for him. How soothing it was to finally let loose, to avoid the hard work it took to merely survive in this shady line of work he was so non-commital about! The comfortable silence after sex was a cherry on top. He was never chatty after sex, and neither were you. Instead, just laying next to you - someone who beared the same curse as his, had brought enough peace for Dazai. Knowing he had a companion in this lonely world made him less sullen. His days were slightly more worth living as he had something to look forward to.

     Dazai always got desperate when you were away. "How pathetic" - He thought, his hand was working on his shaft in the privacy of his office. If you were in an adjacent city, he would have paid you a visit, and had you treat him to breakfast in the morning. For you were half way across the globe though, he had to make use of his imagination. Dazai's mind was racing with candid shots of memories from your recent naughty escapades. That time last week in your office was the best he ever had. He recalled the oral you offered him that day, oh - how hot and welcoming your tongue felt wrapped around his most sensitive part. God, he missed you, so much. It was salient how the hook - up shot up in frequency from thinly scattered to every night (and even day) you spent in Yokohama. Your quarter became his favourite place to to be. It was cozy, felt like home, and full of things that told him about you. Dazai realized that you were the only woman that could spike his interest. He couldn't help but got curious about you, both in and out of bed. Was Dazai aware that he was investing too much time and attention for you? No, he totally wasn't.

     You only let him top when it was storming. Why? He sometimes questioned it but never found out. The revulsion from the notorious mafiosa back to the cute girl at the bar got him confused and boosted his ego to the roof at the same time. Even if it occured on very rare occasions, he still appreciated how precious you were, playing his pet! It almost felt like you, too, had given him special treatment. He would never submiss to a casual f**k, and neither would you, right?

 

 

     Lingerie, choker and high heels.

     The temptress made her way to Dazai's office. The faint, pretty smile hid her pain and affliction that coiled around her heart. Memories of the grieving incident from that blusterous day were flooding back. A good dose of pleasure would be the best painkiller.

     You threw open your trench coat and knocked. Dazai's whole body was numb from the never-ending hours of paperwork. The sound knocking was almost drowned in the violent sounds from the storm outside. Dazai groaned as it took him a few seconds to grumble miserable "Come in". His face was buried in his hands, he was mentally preparing to see an underling brought him another set of reports he had to go through. He missed you. Dazai reluctantly lifted his sore eyes, his pupils dilated to meet yours as he silently thanked his lucky stars for this reward. You smirked while leaning on his door. "You've got a minute, Osamu?" - F**k, he had an eternity.

     It took every ounce of Dazai' pride not to pin you down and f**k your brains right out on his desk but he held back the urge. No need to rush. He was going to take his time today, he would enjoy devouring you bit by bit. 

     Dazai said coyly : "Underwear only. Be a good s**t and wait." Satisfaction filled his chest as she smiled obediently.

Dazai went over the last papers carelessly, for his mind was busy sketching the perfect plan to enjoy this generous treat. You had settled graciously on the floor, your attire was boasting your flawless physique. Fifteen minutes felt like days to him, but his ego didn't let him come off too desperate. 

     You smiled innocently at Dazai loosening his tie while he was walking to you. You knew he loved the act. What a perfect innocent facade you could put up. Who knew you could be this dirty? Dazai, and Dazai only. 

     The man spoke: "You missed my touch that much, babygirl ?" - "Yes, Osamu, it's been way too long", you sighed. Your cute mewling and whining... Dazai had to lift your chin to look at your face better. Lovely. How he prided himself in being the only one you play submissive to!

      Dazai leaned down. The iron grip on your cheeks and his fervent kiss screamed who was the one craving who. The taste of strawberry intoxicated his senses. Dazai pulled you up from the floor, just to softly pushed you down his comfortable sofa. The two of you molded together like two fitting puzzles. Your exposed neck was oh-so tempting. The love bites he left on your neck had faded. What to do about that? You felt Dazai's rough lips doved to your neck, his nostrils inhaled the scent immediately. Jessamine. Addicting. Has anyone died after sleeping in a overly fraganted room before? Dazai inhaled your fragance as he felt his whole body shudder at the whimpers you let out on his neck. The young man slowly pulled away to observe you, his lips started to miss your skin already. Dazai hesitantly took your hands which were burried in his locks and clutching his shoulder. His body started to miss the feelings of your fingers right away. Dazai carefully straightened your arms to tie the wrists to the furniture's handrest with a cuff (customized, had your name on it). He prolonged the whole process, because you only held hands during sex and he was appreciating how your hands fit so well in his. The man smiled, very subtly. How he loved the way you kept your yearning eyes on him the whole time! 

     You found out he digged eye contect during sex the second time you too did it. That being said, blindfolding was still high on your list of kinks and Dazai was more than willing to deliver. "Close your eyes." The man demanded as he began to cover your orbs with his cravat. Though he honestly wanted to appreciate your face a bit longer.

     Dazai took his precious time undressing the woman. He was enjoying this already. Every piece of intricate underwear fell off your form was followed by Dazai's tender butterfly kisses. In your heightened sensitive state, all you could do was writhing everytime your lover's lips made contact with your skin. Ah! You whimpered, shallow breathes fell out your lips as he touched you in the most sensitive corners of your body. Loving how responsive you were with just a bit of fondling, Dazai chuckled lowly. His body was laid flat on yours, so you could feel the vibration of his teasing chuckle through your chest. You smiled. Excitement got the best out of you when Dazai abrubtly pulled away. He took a step back to scan over his work...

     His heart stopped dead in its track at the scene unfolding before him: Your whole body flush, writhing and twisting. Delicate fingers fumbling with each others, back arched beautifully on the velvet of his sofa. Anticipation was written all over your vulnerable, spread out body. When Dazai finally fixated his heated gaze on your face, God, how could he ever find the heart to look away. Your cheeks, as flushed as your body, were shaded with red. This, all of this, was all because of him, and just for him, for him only. A wave of emotions rushed through him as he felt his world blooming with colors, and countless beautiful shades of your raining blue and blushing red.

     Dazai's world was a grey canvas, too sad and gloomy that no one would look at. 

     That sullen background had been decoreated with your vivid, yet unknowing strokes of passions, lust, feelings, sense of longing and...love? The realization hit Dazai like a tow truck: Looking at the tender redness of your complex, Dazai noticed his once monochrome world had been filled with colors, layers by layers since that peculiar first time with you.

    The man was baffled, and astounded at the idea of loving anything else aside from your body. At that moment, a tidal of foreign emotions rushed through him. His mind was unable to sort all those feelings out into words, but his face could. Dazai thanked himself for having taken your vision. What would he do if he saw your beautiful, yearning eyes? What would you think if you saw how much of a mess he was? A lightning sliced the night sky in halves, the sound was deafeningly brutal. You flinched, started to feel unnerved "Why is he taking so long?". You called out for him, not only impatient, but a bit scared."Osamu?". Your soft plea pulled him out of his trance, the shock was still coiling around his heart which made it hard to breath properly. He clutched the the patch of fabric on his chest, the other hand covering his face as he desperately tried to calm down. Dazai put his wavering hand on your cheek, effectively relaxed you. 

      The sex was slow and clumsy - Just like that weird first time, as a whole battle was jumbling in Dazai's already troubled mind.

     Watching you sleep on the couch, Dazai reminded himself of all the subtle signs of adoration for you he had foolishly turned a blind eye to. He often prolongued his stay in the morning to observe your belongings. They told him much about you. How you were, as a person, outside of the bedroom. Even the most mundane things about you were noticed. He should have realized his obvious feelings when he asked himself "Your hair was a few centimetres shorter, was it because of the split ends you once complained about to your colleague?" a month ago. He regretted brushing it off, thinking he was just his normal perceptive self. Needless to say, underestimating your warning at the very beginning was a grave miscalculation.

     Recalling the vulnerable side you only showed to him, Dazai's heart swelled in affection. After hours of thinking, the man finally accepted the fact that he had fallen hard for the his "fuckbuddy", who was also his colleague. A rivulet of tranquility murmured down through his soul when he felt the weight of your head on his lap. Dazai fell into a slumber. He slept well that night, like every other night with the infamous mafiosa.

     You left. 

     You never stayed in the morning. But the previous night was special,... right? Dazai felt an immense loss when his surrounding was again cold and empty. Maybe you were also flustered? Do you need some space to deal with all the emotions as well? After the act, you looked at him straight in his eyes, your tone was nothing but sincere "Osamu, are you alright?". He remembered making up a obvious lie about the cold rain made him sick, so he'll save f*****g your brains out for another day. You did not buy his bulllshit but you were tactful enough not to pry. Thank God. With your skills, he would have spilled everything within fifteen minutes. What would have happened then? You would have kept distance from him. "Just sex" - you said. You would have pushed him away. You would definitely have done that if you knew he had developed feelings. He wouldn't have been in your life anymore. It was already sad that he meant to you so little - you two were just merely f*****g.  

     But then, "No strings attached"? It was practically impossible to do so when all of his heart strings had already tied themselves to the tip of your finger.

     The two met again that afternoon at the Mafia executives' meeting. 

     Upon seeing you chatting with Chuuya before the discussion began, Dazai purposefully called you by your first name. It felt so good to address you so intimately even out of the bedroom. You blinked. He never addressed you as such in public. Your  relationship was kept secret, you just didn't feel the need to let others know. Dazai scanned your face urgently, searching for a reaction at the subtly intimate act, anything, that whispered to him that you had ever seen him anyway more intimate than friends. The result was like an ice bucket toppled down on his head. The playful smirk displayed on your lips screamed nothing but amusement. Your eyes were pleasant as if you just saw a long-time friend. For he soon realized, a colleague, a friend, a companion, was all you had, and would ever see him as. Upon seeing you treated Dazai with the same courtesy, Kouyou was fairly surprised:" I didn't know you two were so close?". As if we haven't been f*****g for the past year. Dazai bitterly thought. He knew unrequieted love was a possibility, but the confirmation still shattered him. His eyes lingered on your figure the whole meeting. Dazai spoke even less than normal. It was so damn hard to conceal the cracking in his voice, and his black heart. 

     The roles switched back to normal. 

     You settled on top. It was mind-blowing, as usual, maybe even more with the complicated feelings to stir in his heart. His back arched on his mattress, his hands fervently held onto every patch of your exposed skin. 

     You were already fast asleep when Dazai propped himself up on his elbows to smooth your hair. The act was so pure, contradicted to the raw sex just took place. Dazai sensed a sharp tug on his chest as he reminded himself, this was the most innocent he would ever get with you. Outside the sheets, you two went back to co-workers. The ony tie would be purely professional, or platonic, at best. "Karma's a b***h, isn't it?". His mind wandered back to his faceless past lovers.  Naive women thought they could move him. And cried rivers when found out they couldn't. "I warned them, didn't I?" was a perfect excuse so Dazai had never once felt guilty for breaking his one - night - stands' hearts. He wanted to scoff when they blamed him. Pathetic. The man used to think. Until then, Dazai never had predicted that he would ever be in their shoes. 

     Dazai helped you gather your things the following morning like a gentleman he was. He put on his favorite cheerful mask, and tried his luck again, knowing how pathetically useless it was right from the start:" I'm impressed you haven't fallen for me yet" - The airy laugh you sent his way was straight up cruel, each melody stung. Dazai felt a sharp, painful tug in his heart at your unknowing answer His pain climaxed upon your teasing:"You and your jokes, Osamu". With that, you walked away. 

     No longing. Nor attachment. This is what sex with the Mafia evil prodigy was like.

     Dazai was not a man who could be killed with bullets, but with that painfully oblivious response of yours? He might as well be six feet under the next time he heard it.

Author's Note

- You must check out the manga/anime to understand fully this work. Trust me, it's absolutely amazing!
- I proofread twice, but please tell me if I left out a mistake.
- Is there anything illogical about the character's psycological change?
- What do you think about the paragraph 5("Lingerie...") and 6(Dazai's world was a grey canvas...")?