Bungou Stray Dogs x Male Reader Oneshots

Dazai x Reader

Thanks @iipobx for the request!
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‼️detailed self harm‼️
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It was a great day.  I got to spend my day in the office surrounded by my friends.  I went out to lunch and ate delicious food.  I got to get off work early because I finished my tasks sooner than expected.  I felt happy the whole day, smiling practically every moment I could.  Everything was normal and I had a great day.  So why the fuck is the goddamn blade back in my hands?

Everything was going right, all the way until I walked through my front door.  I wasn't sure why but good days like these hit me the hardest.  The higher you are, the harder you fall and by god, I was spiraling down as if cast from the clouds.  Tears immediately fell from my eyes even as my expression refused to shift from neutrality.  As if by routine only, I felt myself moving towards my bedroom with my thoughts racing to find the mistake I must've made to trigger this instinct. 

It didn't take long for my hands to rifle through my sock drawer in a scattered daze, my fingers clasping the familiar small box that slid perfectly into my palm.  A shaky sigh of defeat escaped my lips as I gave in to the part of my brain that begged for the pain I probably didn't deserve but wanted anyways. 

Walking on trembling legs, I made my way to the bathroom with the small case cold in my hand.  I could practically hear the rattle of the metal inside it waiting patiently to be brought into the light yet again.  I rifled through the cabinets quickly to pull out hydrogen peroxide, some towels and bandages in case I ended up getting carried away.  Even if I did have this habit, I didn't want to get infected or die this way and was always prepared to deal with these consequences. 

I took a deep inhale, refusing to look at myself in the mirror on the edge of another breakdown caused by the unfamiliar presence of extended happiness.  I stripped off my shirt, goosebumps rising along my skin instantly.  My eyes finally focused on the broken boy in the mirror and I couldn't feel any worse than I did at that moment.  Faded scars scattered along my upper arms and shoulders, a gradient moving down my arms to brighter reds that showed the most recent wounds I made that couldn't have been anything more than a week ago. 

"Damn it," I whispered shakily, tears pooling to flow once again.  I grabbed the small casing, popping it open to reveal the sick glint of the miniature blade.  One cut, two cuts, a couple more.  None of them too deep and taking a couple seconds for blood to rise.  The sting brought me momentary peace, my brain now able to focus on the marks and not my thoughts.  I still felt that deep ache behind my ribs that couldn't be cut away but it was at least dulled for now with a few more slices. 

The buzzing of my phone interrupted my silence, making me pause before I could make another cut.  Trying to collect my composure, I checked my screen to see who it could be.  Dazai's name lit up like a beacon, the rumbling of my phone moving up my arm and causing slight stinging.  I took a deep breath to calm myself down.  If I didn't accept his call, he'd for sure become concerned and break down my door so it left me little choice but to accept the call.  A small part of me longed to hear his voice too. 

"Y/n!  Whatcha up to?" Dazai's upbeat voice asked through the slight static of my phone.  I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, holding back my sniffling and trying to manage a response that wouldn't just sound pitiful. 

"Just watching a movie.  I'm feeling tired," I whispered.  A couple moments of silence ensued my response, making me worry that I said the wrong thing.  How would Dazai know that I was lying anyways?  I knew he wasn't clueless but there wasn't anything that would give me away. 

"Can you open your front door then?  It's cold out here," Dazai quietly requested, his tone shifting to one of seriousness.  It wasn't something I was used to hearing from the energetic and chaotic Dazai so I immediately realized that I messed up.  I ended the call quickly, hurriedly wiping up the blood on my arm and haphazardly bandaging the cuts before slipping the blade back into its small casing. 

Right as I shoved the casing into my pocket and pulled my shirt back over my head, I heard my front door open.  He must've found the spare key and got tired of waiting for me.  I took one last look at myself in the mirror, hyper aware of my tear stained face and haunted expression.  It was too late to fix anything though as a soft knock rang out on the bathroom door.  I made a small pitiful sound in the back of my throat, feeling overwhelmed instantly with what Dazai would surely figure out.  I wasn't ready to tell anyone, I don't think I ever will be ready to tell anyone. 

"I'm not stupid, y/n.  I've seen the signs and I know what you're hiding.  I came over to actually talk to you about it but it seems I'm too late.  I'm sorry for not realizing this was occurring sooner but I didn't want to believe it was true," Dazai spoke softly through the door, the sound muffled but I heard every word.  "It hurts, doesn't it?" he whispered. 

My heart strained painfully in my chest, my palms pressing against my eyes to stop the tears.  I shook my head from side to side, in disbelief of this moment.  It hurt so fucking bad, both physically and emotionally.  I was so tired and fed up with feeling this way at every inconvenience. 

"Let me in...please.  I want to help you," he pleaded on the other side of the door.  He sounded desperate, like he was talking through his own tears.  My voice didn't seem able to work as I opened and closed my mouth several times hopelessly.  Wrapping my arm around myself, I hesitantly unlocked the doorknob.  In the span of a single second, the door eased open to reveal Dazai standing there with tears running down his face and a pained frown pulling at his lips. 

He stood for a moment, looking over me before he slowly walked closer.  His hands were careful as he gingerly held my wrists, turning over my hands so my arms were face up.  I didn't pull away, letting him look at all the horrible ways I treated myself.  His cool fingers brushed up my arm to my sleeves. 

He touched my waist, messing with the hem of my shirt as he stared at me.  I managed a small nod, shutting my eyes to avoid the disappointment that was bound to appear on his face after this.  I felt my shirt slide against my skin as he lifted it over my head, his hands holding my waist afterwards as if trying to keep me upright.  He sharply inhaled.  "Oh...y/n...". 

I lurched forward, falling into his arms as I started sobbing.  His hands held me firmly, just enough to not hurt me in any way.  He gently lowered me to the ground with him, carefully cradling me in his lap.  I pushed my face against his neck as he pressed light kisses to my shoulder where the most faded scars rested.  There wasn't any pain in the way he held me, only safety.