#dazai fluff

[crazylazydaizzzy]

Lazy Coworker!Dazai x f!reader

Dazai is a lazy slacker. And annoying at that. News, right?

“Would you rather be deaf or blind?” Dazai asks, laying upside down on the office couch. His long legs are resting against the wall, his hair dangling down in a soft fluff, a lollipop between his fingers.

“Deaf” The deadpan can be heard through your flat tone, fingers tapping away at your keyboard at an efficient speed – quick and loud to drown out Dazais voice.

“Deaf so I don’t have to hear your bullshit” Dazais smile is clear as day in his teasing, pleased lilt to his tone, prompting you to send a tiny glare his way over your work computer.

He brings the blue lollipop to his lips again, smile widening behind it. “You love seeing me, that’s why” He closes his eyes, looking like he’s in pure bliss. “I get it”

You ignore him, your keyboard tapping growing harsher and louder.

“Do you think whales get cold?” He tries again, and you can see him from the corner of your eyes. Still smiling.

He doubles down once he gets no response out of you. “Don’t you think its weird that clouds float when they are evaporated water? Shouldn’t they fall down if they hold water?” He tries again

Sighing, you drop your head into your hands, massaging at your sore temple. “Why do you use this type of mental abuse on me, Dazai”

He sticks his blue stained tongue out for you, grinning widely with his forehead in full view.

Dazai is like a sleep paralysis you cant shake off or wake up from.

a/n: quick something i wrote before bed. writing is consuming all of the time from my other hobbies lately. im not entierly unhappy about that, just a little >-<

with this treasure, i summon: @xhslvt @xiyizhouswife @hartistasinombre @melancholicreaper @goatkkotsu @nightmarenyxx @sleazysaltedcat @defenestratehumanity @shhhhiamreading @totallynotashieldagent @vyxeen @hartistasinombre @angeliure-0 @septembermoonchild @1isabelfox (let me know if you wanna be tagged for certain fandoms only!!)

[sirencholia]

HIIIII does anyone have that one dazai oneshot where he comes home late to the reader who fell asleep waiting for him with roses and at first he's jealous then finds out the roses are for him?? i definitely liked that post but it's been a whileeee :3

[osamusghxst]

𝓬an i have your attention, 𝓟lease?

attention whore!dazai desperately wanting to occupy gn halcyon!reader’s mind 24/7 (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

၄၃ daydreaming about dazai trying to impress you. ၄၃

You’re a new hire at the agency; you don’t do much other than low-level secretary work — this doesn’t bother you though since you wanted a minimum effort desk job as is. Everyone’s really nice, entertaining, endearing, but you couldn’t hold back the bit of shock by the severely underaged part-timers though. And of course, there is the office heartthrob that had no trouble initiating a formal introduction and greeting to you, complete with beautiful theatrics that was enticingly overwhelming but — for lack of better words, still cute. You obviously pay attention to him, you could never even dream of ignoring him. However, you don’t exactly give Dazai what he’s looking for. What he needs. What he craves.

It was an accident; he didn’t mean to fall for you, not that you did anything in particular that would force his heart to experience these silly feelings and send his mind into an insane overdrive where all he could think about was… you. You kept to yourself most of the time, only approaching him if you had questions specifically regarding his work you were filing away in the database and in the cabinets that didn’t seem necessarily… completed. You’d on occasion walk up to him to get his drink order for the cafe if you were making a coffee run for the entire room with Atsushi or Kyouka. And on rare instances, you’d tag along on your shared lunch break to wherever it was he wandered off to for a meal.

However, he was the one predominantly orbiting you: casually placing himself at the desk beside yours with his laptop and papers, engaging in lighthearted conversation as you smiled in his direction while he spoke and laughed at his little jokes; sitting on the break room couch with you while you enjoyed some time away with the sunlight beaming down through the window to soak in like a house cat; inviting himself on your lunch hour if he was in the building at the same time as you, or show a form of admired impress at the packed lunch you brought from home; and he always, always, always ensured he had a seat beside you during meetings if it required your attendance — which was seldom for secretaries to join in unless they were an all-hands effort.

Dazai had tried absolutely everything he could think of to coax your eyes to him: loud bouts of over exaggerated laugher if he was across the room — even if the joke wasn’t that funny; soft, purposefully sweet chuckles or giggles if you were beside each other; dazzling smiles with his somehow perfect teeth, or even going so far as to bite his lip while he watched you speak with his pretty brown eyes locked on yours; and, his last ditch effort, expanding on his wardrobe. Something he kept in his mental journal is you are seemingly the most stylish in the room, and never one to shy away from discussing fashion while handing out compliments left and right to your colleagues whenever they wore something especially eye-catching. And he wants that too.

You have noticed all of his efforts, catching on not too long after they began. Every last thing he did was in the back of your mind while you two interacted, but you had to keep it tucked away there since you are acutely aware that these tactics aren’t curated for you. They were for anyone that didn’t bore him. You didn’t want to feel “special”, so you ignored most of it — to the best of your ability if your mind allowed it, and your mind hardly allowed it.

You did take note, though, as of late he had abandoned his usual trench coat for other outfits, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good, maybe even better. You are still confused about the bandages he always wears, but it wasn’t your place to ask, and you didn’t think you were allowed to — but somehow, the stark-white gauze wrapping around different parts of his body seemed to fit as a perfect accessory to how he’s been dressing lately. The sleeves of his button-up shirts and sweaters meticulously rolled up to his elbows; his newfound need to press his tan or dark brown dress pants that lightly swish around his legs when he walks; the shine to his new dress shoes or boots. You couldn’t help it, sneaking glances at him more often than you were used to, trying to see what his outfit entailed that day. And he’s caught you a few times while you peeked in his direction with your pen absentmindedly tapping your bottom lip as you gawked, shooting you a playfully coy smile and overly flirtatious wink from above the papers in his hands or the laptop in front of him. Basking triumphantly in the blush blooming in an instant across your cheeks as you quickly avert your gaze back to your paperwork.

Today is no different while he’s standing near his desk, reviewing some reports Kunikida had given him to take another once over, and your eyes are glued to his figure. He went for a monochrome outfit, which needlessly impressed you to no end: dark brown, shining leather dress shoes with nary a crease; lightly tanned dress pants that hugged him in places you didn't know he had; a rather comfy-looking chocolate sweater over a beige button-up with the collar properly place around his neck; his shaggy mop of hair fluffier than what you remember; and a new addition you’d never seen him in before, watching as one of his fingers push the glasses up the bridge of his nose. You blink, feeling your ears burn as you continue staring from your desk, and wonder how something that appears to be so simple looks so good on him?

You carefully and slowly get to your feet, wiping your palms on your pants as you begin approaching him, the sound of your shoes on the polished floor causing his head to turn in your direction, and Dazai’s usually steady heartbeat picked up into a light pitter-patter when you grace his presence with your radiant but shy smile. “Hey, Dazai.” You greet, hiding your hands behind your back.

“Hey there,” he greets in return, that impish grin plastering on his lips that he can’t hold back, cheeks slightly pushing up on the rims of his glasses. “Did I do something wrong again?” He asks with a tilt of his head. You let out a small giggle at the joke, clutching your hands together and shaking your head.

“No, no, I actually haven’t had the chance to go over anything yet.” Mostly because I was too busy staring at you. “I thought I’d just tell you how nice you look today. I… didn’t know you wore glasses.” He stops for a split second, his mind breaking momentarily at the compliment, and his fingers come up to rest on the plastic.

“Oh, uhm, I don’t need them all the time. Messed up my eye a bit when I was younger, so it sometimes just gets irritating trying to see without them,” he gestures to his right eye, and you notice then a small scar splitting down his brow. You nod slowly, maintaining your sweet smile, but your eyes betray you when they do another once over of his outfit, lingering on his face and darting toward his eyebrow. “Do they make me look like a dork?” He jokes, but it comes out in a breath of unease due to your silence.

“Absolutely not, quite the opposite,” you rush out. “No, you… You look great today. I like your sweater, and your glasses make you look so adorable.” You stumble over your words from how quickly you're saying them, not realizing any of this is coming from your own mouth. You falter, mouth hanging open, staring at his mildly wide eyes staring back at you with a bit of a quizzical expression. Patient, in a way, but mystified completely. Am I really about to take this leap? "Would you like to go get lunch with me today? If you don't already have plans—"

"Yes!" He pauses then clears his throat, nodding eagerly still as his smile grows impossibly bigger. "Yeah, no, I don't have plans. I was actually going to ask you if you'd like to go with me today."

"It's a date then?" You ask, oh so sweetly, stepping closer to him and daring to venture placing your fingers on his sweater sleeve, caressing the soft material as you subtly bat your lashes. His eyes are stuck on your hand still messing with his shirt, the tip of his ear that pokes out of his hair a visible red tint, and in that moment where he is awestruck by your actions, you are confident enough to believe that you may actually be special. Did it finally work? Everything I worked so hard for is paying off?!

"Absolutely, my darling, it is a date," he bounces back immediately, amber eyes locking with yours behind his lenses, and that ever-present arrogant smirk tugging at his lips. All too soon, to his utter dismay, your hand draws back to hide behind you, taking leisure steps backward in the direction of your desk, biting down on your lip to hide the beam you want to wear.

"Alright, I'll be at my desk if you need me before then."

"Likewise," he nods toward you, resting his hand down on the surface, never averting his gaze, and it makes you giggle more, especially when you bump into one of the desks from not paying attention. He shields his mouth behind his reports, so you don't see him laughing at your fumbling around before forcing himself to sit down in his seat at the same time you do, both of you passing glances here and there instead of actually doing your work.

And you two have to kind of ignore that everyone present just saw all of that, by the way.

this was supposed to be shorter but i just think about him in detail too much.

masterlist | requests: closed

divider from chrisssiren here on tumblr

©GHXST likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3 do not repost, copy, change/alter/edit my works, and do not use it to feed generative ai.

[arabella0001]

⟡ Pairing: Dazai Osamu x Reader

⟡ Requested scenario: Here

Warnings: angst/comfort if you squint, explicit sexual content [18+], p in v, rough sex, light bdsm, rough oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, dom/sub undertones, dry humping, orgasm control, aftercare, 5k words

Dazai hummed as his fingers wandered on your body, exploring every inch of your skin. His breath warm your neck, his whisper against your ear make you shiver.

“Dazai…”

His hand lowered on your body, between your breast as it find the spot that left you breathless, teasing touches between your thights, lifting the skirt in the process.

It was a rough day for Dazai, well nothing he can handle. A mission he couldn’t avoid at the Agency, forcing himself to don’t avoid his tasks like he usually do. Now he wanted to ease that stress, to numb his thoughts with something more primal. Only he didn’t know his shy, embarassed woman wanted more than usually.

Despite his usual hook-up from his past when he focused on what the partner wants, vocal women that knows what they want — with you he was different. A glitch in his world.

He meet you in a coffe shop, but you didn’t speak with him. You catched an interest in him from the start, but his constant flirting with every waitress didn’t sit right with you. But Dazai tried at first. He saw, he always so how your eyes followed him every time he find himself here in the morning, stay more than his schedule at work permits. Yet, you didn’t give him satisfaction to talk back, only what you should do as a worker.

“Can I serve you with anything else?”

He flicker the spoon in the second coffe he had until now, leaning his head lazily against his palm. His eyes didn’t left yours, a dangerous glint in them you didn’t dare to focus on.

“No, thank you darling.” You nodded as you turned around, preparing some take outs for the delivery man to take. Your hand froze on the plates when he added. “But maybe I’d like to spoke a little with the beautiful woman that tries so hard to avoid me.”

──╮

And that’s how Dazai made himself space in your little world. In contrast with him, you were a break of his word.

That means his ambiguous explanation of what he may be doing in his life was enough for you to be unsettled for some time until you confronted him. You remembered clearly.

Late at night, Dazai made his way back into your house, fighting the wicked urge to not longer scare you like he did before, as he now opens the door for you to hear, not discreetly like before.

He was surprised to see you swirl a spoon in a pot in the kitchen, the smells making even him hungry despite his starvation habit, which you don’t like quite a bit.

“Oh? Is it not too late for my lady to be cooking in the middle of the night?”

Dazai felt unusually uneasy when you didn’t even glance back at him.

“I assumed you'd come at least today.”

He hummed, stepping closer, yet slowly, like he’s walking on an invisible minefield. He saw the way your body stilled when his body heat could be felt behind you, his head tilted to the side as he whispered.

“Will you look at me, bella?"

You glanced at him sharply, and it is enough for Dazai to understand you are mad. And he already knows why. And no, that’s not the time, or maybe there will never be a time to talk about this. You saw how the eyes locked on yours now glanced somewhere else, as he was already out of a conversation that didn’t even start.

“Dazai.” His demeanour almost surprised you, like he was untouchable, silently telling you not to start something you shouldn’t. “Dazai, can you please talk to me?”

He huffed, unamused, sarcasm lacing his tone as he turned around.

“You should’ve known already not to try, shouldn’t you?”

You gulped, feeling your throat parched as anxiety filled your bones, feeling like he is breaking free from a confinement you didn’t placed him in.

“I’m just worried about you!”

You followed him as he went straight from where he came, wanting to leave.

“Dazai, please stop.” You touched a sleeve of his coat, making his steps stop. His face was tilted toward the floor; his back faced you. “Just…listen. I don’t want to make you to leave!” Dazai sighed, giving you a side glance as he tilted his head. You didn't see the look in his eyes, like a decision was already made. “I’m not saying I’m forcing you to tell me things you don’t want to. But please understand this is… not normal."

He chuckled, his voice made you flinch by how mean it was.

"Did you really think I was normal when you met me?” Dazai turned around, cornering you as you stepped back until your back hit the wall. “Don’t even try to lie, bella. You knew already I wasn’t from the start.”

You gulped, trying to look for any hint of emotion on his face, yet you don’t find any. Until your irritated voice makes his eyes widen slightly.

“Did I say I don’t? That I didn’t know you are not a normal person? Tell me when and I believe you.” You pointed a finger at him as he watched the gesture when you touched his chest between your words, like you wanted them to stick in. “Disappear for two days, then come back like nothing happened. No texts, no calls. Not even an idea of what you might be or what you may be doing. I know…you work at the Agency. I know you must be involved in dangerous activities, and I shouldn’t know about them. But I feel something is more than that.”

Dazai maybe miscalculated when he felt that agitated fear inside him when people tried to get way too close.

“And? Where do you want to get? Don’t tell me you’re that kind of woman who wants to talk about trauma.” He snorted, adding shortly after and that only hurt you more. “To heal each other. So sweet. Talking about our past like it will change the present.” Dazai's voice turned sharper. “It will not.”

When he wanted once again to disappear, your hands gripped his coat closer, bringing him inches apart from your face.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me. You don’t get to talk this shit and then leave like nothing mattered until now, do you? All I fucking said is that I’m worried about you, about your fucking life, and I wanted to be here for you more however I can. What’s so fucking bad about it?”

Dazai’s jaw tightened, feeling himself lose control for a second by the way you aggressively held him in place. Not that he couldn’t switch the position in a second. Yet, a passing thought made his following action stop. Your next answer can be decisional.

“Then are you ready to see some not-so-lovely parts of myself? Are you really sure, bella? That you’ll not leave?”

His last question dismantled him accidentally. So that’s where the problem is.

Your uneven breath matched his, and you felt yourself getting closer. Or he was. You really don’t know.

“I’m sure.”

The moment stilled enough to steal your breath as his intense gaze didn’t left yours, stealing more from it when he kissed you, pushing your body harshly against the wall as his hand cupped your cheek. He tilt your head for him, deepening the kiss while his tongue could slip inside so you wouldn't fight back, not that you wanted to.

You moaned against his mouth as he swallowed the obscene sounds, urging him closer by the way you raised your leg as he gripped it higher in return as his body now start grinding against yours. You locked your hands around his shoulders when he let your breath again, his mouth finding your pulse point, making sure both of your frustrations were now tattooed on your skin.

“F-Fuck.”

His other hand gripped your chin to look at him, only to kiss you again, letting his hand lower until it locked against your neck, giving a light squeeze, making the pool between your legs form shamelessly fast. The kiss continued until it made you dizzy, your swollen mouth bruised by him now open after he bit your upper lip.

His breath warms your neck, sending shivers down your spine as he whispered against your ear.

“You’ll live up to your word then, bella."

Dazai barely restrained him that night from letting out all his frustration on you. Yet, what Dazai didn’t know yet was how much you like it. How much it showed a part of you that drives you mad to explore. Something in him that night makes you think there is more in Dazai’s touches that meets the eye.

Weeks passed, and the same old routine happened: getting along with your day, enjoying his presence sometimes with an afternoon coffee if he has enough time to pass by, since mornings don’t let you catch up with him unless he fakes a sick day at work.

In his own ways, Dazai tried at least to be more communicative. Even if his details from past missions were vague, yet still present. Even if it’s a late-night short text with:

Don’t wait for me tonight, bella. ❤️‍🩹 (╥﹏╥)

Still, you felt restless after that night in some specific way.

And what could possibly be something that can make you get closer to his real side than what you have in mind? After all, it’s not really your fault for making you, accidental or not, want for more.

╰──

“Dazai…”

Back in the present, you seemed in control as you were on top of him now, his head resting against the bed while only his light touches teased you enough to drive you mad. Dazai always went easy on you, letting his other persona slip only when his grip tightened around you, like the way his veins popped out now on his hands while he moved your ass to grind on him, over his cloth, black pants.

He murmured as you stopped the kiss to speak; his head now nuzzled between your breasts as he squeezed one of them. “Mhm?”

You swallowed; your hips burnt from moving from the past hour of dry humping. Even if he guided you now more harshly, your panties were already soaked for him to touch you more. But you couldn’t be satisfied anymore with his soft touches, always edging you until you are a mess under him as he eventually fucks you slow and deep. He likes to tease you until then, to don’t make it easy until you beg him to make you cum, even if he didn’t ask you to.

“I-I want more. I want to be good for you.”

Dazai’s tongue swirling against your hard nubs stopped, lifting his dark gaze to catch yours. He raised an eyebrow curiously.

“But aren’t you already?"

You bit your lip as you lowered yourself from him, pressing your palms behind each one of his thighs, bending your back.

“I…I want you to let it out on me. You never do this. I’m not…that fragile.”

Something passed through Dazai’s eyes. Someone is thinking about last time, hm? His hands caressed your face until his thumb pressed on your lower lip. He chuckled.

“That’s sweet, darling. But it will be impossible for you to reach that.”

Dazai watched how you trace your tongue around his thumb while your hips move slowly. He saw the saddened look in your eyes, and he inclined his body until his face was at your level, tilting his head as he murmured near your ear. “But that does mean I’m not happy with it."

“Please, Dazai…I want to try anything with you.”

He glanced at you from the side, licking his lips. “It doesn’t work like that, dear [Name]. Dazai could, hell, he could see how your desire gave him the best submissive look he had made you give him until now. “But…let’s test some limits, shall we?”

You nodded as you moved along with him while he guided you near the bed, kneeling between his thighs as his feets now rested on the floor. He brushed his fingertips over your moistened lips until he pressed two fingers inside your mouth.

“Open your mouth more.”

You did, letting his fingers tease your tongue; saliva wetted them enough to plunge more until he reached your throat. You gagged, and he slipped out slowly. His voice was deeper, messing with your head as you nod eagerly.

“Let’s try again.”

His other hand comes behind your head, gripping your hair firmly, not painfully yet, just to keep you in place as his fingers start fucking your mouth, making tears flood your eyes. You are still gagging, yet every time he stops, you make sure to chase his fingers to suck them impatiently inside your mouth again.

“Mhm. You are being so good to me right now.”

Dazai was pleased for now, his own mouth open as his breath faltered. He slipped his fingers from your mouth, letting them clean around your mouth until he lowered his hand towards his belt; his mouth twitched as you followed every move, your chest rising up and down in anticipation.

You hissed when he tugged your hair rougher, lifting your face towards him.

“You’ll be good to me and follow what I say?”

“Yes, Dazai. Please—“

Fuck. You are so aroused already by this new side of him, finding it hard to find a position for any kind of relief as your knees pressed more against the harsh floor. He saw how you parted your thighs, bending slightly, ready to take his dick in your mouth, yet his grip didn’t let you. He rose to his feet, giving his dick two strokes before it rested on your face, tracing your lips with it as you flicked your tongue over his tip.

Dazai moaned, and the sound made you want to hear more, going under his balls to lick them here, tracing kisses and sucking them inside your mouth as he grind his dick on your face. Your hands start caressing his skin now, going above his waist, under his white blouse.

“Hmm, I love how greedy you are.” He let you moan under him for a little longer, slapping his dick on your face until you whimpered before he moved your head from him. Taking your hands off him and placing them above your head. “But now I want my bella to stop thinking. Open your mouth wider.”

Dazai shoved his dick inside your mouth slowly at first, then left it still inside your throat until you choked around him. He slips out, looking down at him you coldly than before as he shoves his dick again, tugging your hair enough to move your head up and down on him like a fleshlight. He was amused, as your gaze was so pathetically desperate for him, tears painting your cheeks as your chokes filled the room.

He wasn’t that cruel that, slipping out to give you a couple of seconds of air.

“Breathe for me."

You exhaled sharply, only to go back and hollow your cheeks as you swallowed his dick back, moaning around him and sending vibrations against his veins.

His hips thrust roughly, matching your movements as saliva starts pooling under your chin, make-up ruined enough that you can't see under your teary lashes as your sloppy gags were the only attractive sound he could hear now. Your throat was already sore, but you didn’t care as Dazai moved you how he wanted; his dick reached deep enough to fill every inch of your mouth, grinding inside.

He slips from you, gripping your chin before he pats your cheek once, then twice more hard. You moaned, thighs pressing together shamefully by his slaps.

“You like being choked like this, sweetheart?”

“Mhm—“

He slapped your cheek again, making you whimper as he tightens his grip on your chin.

“For the only thoughts inside your head to be about how I use your mouth for my own pleasure?”

“I fucking love it, Dazai—“ Dazai's pupils widen in desire by your words as he glances down at how you grind your hips pitifully, meaning what you said.

“Poor pretty lady.” His voice was condescending, brushing his lips over you. “You want me to touch you here?”

“Mhm…Yes.”

He lowered his hand over your breast, squeezing each one of them as he hummed before he slapped one, making you gasp.

“Yes? And how do we say?”

He pushed apart one of your thighs with his foot to get a nice greedy look at the way your pussy glistens in dim light. You only lick your lips as if in a daze, and Dazai could see that already cockdrunk glaze over your eyes while you’re feeling the way your dripping pussy clenches in hope when you whine out his name.

“Please, Dazai!”

His mouth tilted in a satisfying smile, then he let out a ragged low hiss when your shamefully inner thighs spread wider as the edges of his padded fingers just barely started touching your soaked folds. His eyes locked on you, savouring every one of your reactions. Dazai might think he found the perfect woman for him, almost regretting how he didn’t want a relationship before. But he is sure he wouldn’t want you to slip through his fingers. Nor that he wanted before.

The grip on your hair moved your face closer to him, before hovering so close you could feel every hitch of his hot breath against your ear, making you tremble in his hands, his fingers torturing your pussy lips slowly.

“Did my bella enjoy this much to pleasure me?”

“Yes—“ You gasped when Dazai glided up a determined thumb to draw methodical circles on your throbbing clit, fast then slow, gathering more arousal between your folds teasingly before returning to circle around your clit.

He looked down at you as your moans told him you would be closer anytime soon, and as he stopped, only to slap your pussy, you gasped in surprise at the gesture. Dazai smiled when he saw you get aroused by it, his dark gaze now glinting with promises.

“Not so fast, sweetheart.”

You whined when his fingers left your pussy, painting a long trail over your body from the bottom to the top before they entered your mouth without asking, making you taste yourself. He let you suck them before pushing in deeper inside your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat once, for you to gag around them.

He let you catch your breath, and in return, you gave him a filthy look by the misleading innocence in your eyes as your lips parted, exhaling sharply.

“Swallow.”

He spat in your mouth immediately after, giving you time only to obey as you did so, showing him proof by the way your mouth opened again.

“Mhmm. So lovely for anything I give you.”

He patted your cheek in a sweet manner, praising you as you leaned into his palm.

“I want to cum, Dazai. Please, make me cum—I was good for you, right?“

Dazai chuckled, caressing your face, then touching your skin slowly—your collarbone, between your breasts, above your waist as he looks at the sight in front of him—how you are sitting on the floor, thighs apart, chest rising up and down, face dishevelled after his face-fuck treatment you gladly took. His hand came to grip your chin as he whispered against your lips.

“Touch yourself for me then.”

Your eyes open, stuttering in embarrassment.

“W-What—“

He put a hand over your mouth, his voice patronizing.

“Ah, ah, ah. I didn't say you can speak back.” You nod a second after as Dazai’s smile becomes more prominent on his face. “You will do it for me, right?”

Your own hand trembled, lowering hesitantly until you feel the heat of your pussy against your fingers, whining against his mouth when you start circling your fingertip around your way-too-wet clit, edged by him from before, already sensing your orgasm coming.

Dazai lifts himself over you again, lifting your chin so you can look at him at the same time your fingers start moving faster against your needy clit.

“Ask for permission.”

He was amused by your expression, barely forming any coherent words, seeing you move your hips in desperation.

“Dazai? Mhm—I need it so fucking much!”

He tugs your hair harder.

“Ask nicely.”

The problem with begging is that you really have to want it enough that you're reduced to begging, but that is not your case, no. Your desperation is good enough for Dazai; as you start blabbering, your voice more pinchier than before.

“Please, please, please! Let me cum, D-Dazai—you can do it—Ah! — whatever you want with me tonight! Please, l-let me cum for you!”

His smile was dangerous, straightening his back as he looked down at you, his hand coming behind your head, harshly tugging your hair back, making you hiss.

“You’re so beautifully pathetic when you beg.” You moaned at his praise, eyes barely open. “Don’t take your eyes off me.” He then took his dick in his hand, slapping it over your mouth as he finally spoke. "Come.”

Your thigh muscles tensed instantly at his command, moving your fingers frantically as your orgasm started hitting you hard. Your moan sits in the back of your throat, now sending vibrations on Dazai’s dick as he feeds you again while you ride your orgasm. You suck him mindlessly as he moves your head up and down, letting you cum with your mouth full of him.

Dazai’s dick slipped out of your mouth, letting your hair fall from his grasp and bending his posture until his lips claimed yours, slipping his tongue inside to taste your desperation wearing off. You hummed as you tasted him, then resting your head against his own when he put it around your neck. Your eyes met, and a string of saliva linked your mouths, your breaths warm against each other.

He moved you on your feet by the hand around your throat until he turned you around, pushing you down on your belly and taking your legs as you yelped until they rested closer to him as he sat on his foot. Dazai slapped both of your cheeks sharply, letting red imprint on your ass as you mewl.

“Looks more sexy now.”

Dazai groaned when you bent for him like you thanked him by how his words makes you feel, helped by your elbows supporting you on the bed.

You looked back at him as your body chased his touches, but he gripped your hips to sit in place as his fingers circled around your sweet hole, testing the entrance.

“I’m yours, all yours—Dazai…”

His dick twitched at your admission, making him push one finger inside you, just for another to follow by how wet you are for him, stretching you more. He hissed at how tight you are, already wanting to fuck you; luckily, you share the same feeling.

“Can you fuck me now? Please, baby…”

It’s barely even a warning when he chuckled before he gifted you by bullying the very tip of his thick dick into your soaked cunt in a sloppy hit. Your lips parted at the feeling, barely breathing as he didn’t let you, fucking up in a jagged, slow grind, trying so hard to plunge himself in deeper.

He’s pulling you down with a hand to the back of your neck, tightening until your screams are muffled. One hand kneads and gropes the flesh of your ass to steady you down as he slaps you once more.

“Oh my God—“

Dazai heard you, yet he wasn’t satisfied until you would not cry for him. He guided your arms behind your back, placing his hand over them, angling and using leverage to grind his hips down deeper, jolting with every flick of his thrust, sending stars behind your eyelids.

Your cries start filling his ears, only making him go more feral. The stretch is too much; his girth makes you feel each and every sweet spot of yours being dragged down his length.

“Too much! Baby, please—fuck! I-I can’t! I can’t!”

His hand kneads your hair, dragging you until your back meets his chest. He chuckled against your ear, moaning against at a particular thrust.

“No? But you're so cute when you're begging.”

Dazai mindlessly thrusting even sloppier, catching your lips in a lazy, passionate kiss. He slowed down his thrust, not because of your complaints, but because he wanted to slip out of your swollen cunt just to flip you like a doll on your back. “Oh? But you can, baby. Didn’t you say that?”Dazai’s hand comes to squeeze your throat, cutting your airflow. “And you will.”

He’s proving his own point by bouncing you in a heady, fast tandem, his muscle burning with the ache to fuck you so mean. Dazai spits once on two of his long, slender fingers, letting this lewd coating smear down to his knuckles before dipping them down to spread your puffy folds even farther. The fingers still lingering on your cunt, moving to toy with your pulsing sensitive nub, teasing and toying with your clit between two fingers.

Then, your cries filled the room, your body convulsing under him as he roughly pounded inside you. He squeezed your throat again, his forehead brushing yours as he looked at how tears wet your cheeks.

“You’re prettier when you are crying, did you know that?”

You can only cry more for him, thinking only on how his dick filled you so much you can’t even breathe, already clenching around him. Dazai’s voice was hoarse now.

“You’ll cum one more time for me when I say. No before, not after.”

Your hips moved down to meet Dazai’s unforgiving rhythm when his fingers moved around your clit, moving your body into him like you couldn’t get enough despite how rough his thrusts were. When you didn’t answer, he slapped your cheek enough to sting sweetly, enough to bring your attention back to him.

“Yes! I promise—I promise!”And at first, it was true because you were too out of it to think about having time to let go. “I won’t cum until you say I can, baby—“ The wet smacks were only getting louder. Sloppier. Squelching with the push and pull of Dazai pounding cock in the same maddening staccato. 

You’re letting out staggered gasps every time he rams his hefty cock into you. Fingers still relentless on your clit, playing around with it as much as he was playing with your mind before you couldn’t take it anymore when he start focusing on you.

“Please, baby. I can’t anymore, please—“

Dazai groaned at how your walls suffocate him inside, barely containing his own orgasm anymore.

“You can cum now, bella.”

That was all it took for you to warm his dick, cumming so hard you had never cummed in your life as you screamed his name while Dazai slowed down for a second only to put all his weight on you. He pushes deeper harshly, nuzzling your neck with his head as his mouth nips the skin, biting you while your legs wrap around his waist and your hands hold his hair.

“You feel so good inside me. S-So fucking good, Dazai! Please, give it to me—“

“And…you take me so fucking good. Fuck!”

You felt him throb inside you before he hit the top and held it there until his cum unloaded deep in you, pumping every drop of his seed into your trembling hole until you squirmed and struggled under him as he stayed until he was all the way done.

He lift his head slowly, bangs hidden his frame, sticking to his sweated skin before he placed a kiss on your forehead. He slipped out of you, the fluids pooling down between your thighs as he let his finger circle your abused pussy, pressing the cum inside you back as he caught his breath. Then, his hand caressed your legs, glancing back at your exhausted, fucked-up expression, with your cheeks flushed by his action.

“You did well, bella. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

You groaned, embarrassed, putting your face in your hands as he breathed a laugh.

“S-shut up.”

His mouth twitches at your flustered expression after both of you committed sinful acts.

Dazai felt for some reason more close to you as he saw your vulnerable eyes between your fingers. Not usually used for the aftermath of sex, despite trying to bring at least a glass of water or to wash the fluids between your trembling legs. So when he sat up to search for a towel, he stilled in his place when you winced, making him look over his shoulder.

“Hm?”

You tried to move, legs at the end of the bed, brushing the floor.

“I can’t walk.”

“Oh? Did I break you already?” You glared at him, and he chuckled, coming to you as his hand came behind your legs to raise you up in his arms. You locked your hands over his shoulder as you looked up at him. He glanced at you shortly, amused by your needy expression.

“I want you to have me like this more often.”

You don’t know where you got yourself in, pretty lady.

“Hmm, you do? I’m not sure.”

Dazai’s mouth twitched as you tightened your grip around his shoulders, your pursed your lips as sulky frown start forming on your face.

“Then I want to know where you are going every day.”

Before he shut the door to the bathroom for both of you to enter, he looked at you as he replied. The playful gleam in his eyes is unmistakable as you bite out a smile.

“How about having you all for myself every day instead?”

Dazai, you sneaky, attractive asshole.

[dustyblack]

The Weight

MASTERLIST || CHARACTER M.LIST

One Shot

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x f!Reader

Summary: Osamu Dazai has mastered the art of being a phantom, a man who exists in the spaces between jokes and shadows. He’s terrified that loving you is the ultimate death sentence, but he’s starting to realize that losing you is the only thing he can’t survive.

Word Count: 1.1k+

Warning + Tags: Armed Detective Agency Era | Mission Gone Wrong | Protective Dazai | Hurt/Comfort | Angst to Fluff | Dazai being an emotional coward | Near Death Experience | Established Teasing | Cuddles

The smell of rust and salt air usually didn't bother Dazai.

It reminded him of the Port Mafia, of a life he had discarded like a tattered coat.

But tonight, the scent was laced with the metallic tang of your blood, and it was making his skin crawl.

The mission was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance.

Kunikida had mapped it out with his usual obsessive precision, an illegal shipment of ability-enhancing drugs being moved through Warehouse 4.

But the intel had been a trap.

A set-up by a rogue group that didn't want to arrest the Agency, but to erase it.

You were currently slumped against a stack of wooden crates, your breath hitching in shallow, pained gasps. A jagged shard of metal had caught you across the ribs when the building's support beam gave way under the pressure of a localized explosion.

Dazai stood over you, his trench coat billowing in the drafty warehouse, his usual playful expression wiped clean.

He looked like a statue of a god long forgotten: pale, cold, and terrifyingly still.

"Dazai," you managed to wheeze, clutching the wound that was soaking your Agency vest in a deep, darkening crimson. "Get out... they’re still... coming."

He didn't move.

He didn't even look at the doorway where the sound of heavy boots was echoing against the concrete.

His eyes, those dark, bottomless pools of brown, were fixed entirely on the way your fingers were trembling.

"Don't be silly," he said.

His voice was too quiet. It was the voice that didn't belong in the light of the Agency. "If I left now, who would listen to my complaints about the paperwork tomorrow?"

"Osamu, I'm serious," you coughed, and the sight of blood on your lips caused his hand to twitch.

Suddenly, the doors burst open.

Kunikida and Atsushi slid into the room, the former already shouting commands while the latter transformed his limbs into the white tiger’s claws.

They moved with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine, taking down the remaining guards with a flurry of strikes and paper-wrought bullets.

"Dazai! Report!" Kunikida roared, adjusting his glasses while he pinned a man to the floor. "The perimeter is—"

The blond detective stopped mid-sentence when he saw the scene.

He saw Dazai drop to his knees beside you, ignoring the dirt, ignoring the danger, ignoring everything but the way you were slipping away.

Dazai reached out, his fingers hovering over your cheek, hesitant as if his touch would shatter what was left of you.

He was terrified.

For a man who claimed to crave the embrace of death, he was currently looking at it and finding it repulsive because it was trying to take you.

"No," Dazai whispered, so low that only you could hear. "Not you. Anyone but you."

He pulled you into his lap, his bandages unravelling slightly as he pressed his hand firmly against your wound to stanch the flow. He didn't care about the blood staining his clothes.

He didn't care about the fact that he was breaking every rule he had ever set for himself about attachment.

Love, to Dazai, was a death sentence.

It was a curse that had taken Oda, a curse that had left him hollow.

He had spent every day at the Agency keeping you at arm's length with riddles and flirtation, convinced that if he didn't hold you, he couldn't lose you.

But as he felt your heart stuttering against his palm, he realized that he had already lost.

He had loved you since the first day you laughed at one of his terrible jokes instead of rolling your eyes.

"You’re not going to die," he commanded, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. "I won't allow it. My ability... it nullifies everything. I’ll nullify the pain. I’ll nullify the dark. Just stay."

"Dazai... you're... being dramatic," you murmured, your hand reaching up to weakly grasp his tie.

Two days later, the Agency was unusually quiet.

Yosano had worked her "magic", a process you preferred to forget and you were now confined to the infirmary bed with strict orders not to move.

The sun was streaming through the windows, making the dust motes dance in the air.

The door creaked open, and instead of the usual bustle of Ranpo demanding snacks or Kenji bringing flowers, it was Dazai.

He wasn't wearing his coat.

He looked smaller in just his vest and shirt, his hair a mess as if he hadn't slept since the warehouse.

He was carrying a single, slightly wilted camellia and a bag of the expensive crab meat he usually hoarded for himself.

He pulled a chair to your bedside, sitting down with none of his usual flair.

He just stared at you, his eyes scanning your face as if he were trying to memorize every detail to ensure you were still real.

"I thought about joining the afterlife while you were asleep," he said, his voice attempting a light tone but failing miserably. "But then I realized they probably don't have this specific brand of crab there, and it seemed like a waste."

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand.

His fingers were cold, and you could feel the slight tremor in them. "Thank you for staying, Osamu."

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb tracing the line of your knuckles.

The silence stretched, but it wasn't the heavy, suffocating silence of the warehouse. It was soft.

It was the sound of a man finally putting down his shield.

He leaned forward, his face inches from yours, the scent of antiseptic and his spicy cologne filling your senses.

He looked terrified, like a boy about to jump off a cliff, but the warmth in his gaze was undeniable.

"I’m a very difficult man," he whispered, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection. "I’m a ghost who happened to find a body.

I don't know how to do this properly. I’ve spent my life wanting to end, but when I saw you on that floor... I wanted a hundred years. I wanted a thousand."

He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before his lips finally met yours in a touch that was tentative, sweet, and desperately honest. It wasn't the kiss of a man who wanted to die; it was the kiss of a man who had finally found a reason to breathe.

He pulled away just an inch, his eyes soft and glowing with a light that had been missing for years, and he let out a small, relieved laugh as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

"If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll be forced to write a very long and very annoying poem about it, and you’ll have to listen to me recite it every morning for the rest of our lives."

[dustyblack]

CONFESSIONS

MASTERLIST || CHARACTER M.LIST

Mini Story

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Paring: Osamu Dazai x You

Summary: Under the midnight rain, the anchor was finally dropped: he no longer wished to disappear, but to be found by you.

Warning + Tags: Fluff | Suggestive | Dazai being a menace | Soft |

Word Count: 800+

The rain in Yokohama had a way of blurring the line between the sky and the sea, turning the city into a smudge of charcoal and neon.

Inside the dim, subterranean warmth of the bar, the world felt smaller and perhaps that was why Osamu Dazai liked it.

He sat perched on his usual stool, spinning a glass of amber liquid so slowly the ice barely clinked.

Beside him, you watched the way the light caught the bandages peeking out from his cuffs. He hadn't cracked a joke in ten minutes, which, for Dazai, was an eternity.

"You're thinking too loud," you murmured, resting your chin on your hand.

Dazai tilted his head, a stray lock of dark hair falling over his eye. He offered a smile, but it didn't quite reach the hollows of his expression.

"Am I? I thought I was being quite a charming companion tonight. I haven't even mentioned a double suicide since we sat down."

"That’s the problem," you countered gently. "You’re being 'good.' It’s exhausting to watch."

He let out a soft, airy chuckle and finally drained his glass.

He turned his body toward you, the coat draped over his shoulders shifting like the wings of a tired crow.

For a moment, the mask slipped.

You saw the exhaustion he usually hid behind grand gestures and dramatic antics, the weight of a man who lived between the light of the Agency and the shadows of his past.

"The world is so very bright, isn't it?" he asked, his voice dropping to a velvet hush. "Sometimes I think if I reach out to touch it, I’ll just leave a smudge on the glass. But then..."

He reached out, his fingers hovering just inches from your hand on the mahogany bar.

He didn't grab it; he simply waited. When you closed the gap, lacing your fingers with his, his skin was cool, but his grip was firm, grounding.

"Then there are anchors," he finished, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Small, stubborn anchors that keep me from drifting out to sea."

He didn't need to say anything more. In the silence of the bar, with the muffled rhythm of the rain above, Dazai leaned his head against your shoulder.

He wasn't the "Demon Prodigy" or the Agency's resident prankster. He was just Osamu, a man finding a brief, quiet reason to stay.

The peace didn't last, of course.

Peace was a fragile thing when one worked at the Armed Detective Agency, and it was usually shattered by the sound of a door being kicked open or a high-pitched scream of frustration.

The bell above the door chimed with a violent jangle, and the heavy dampness of the Yokohama rain surged into the bar.

Dazai didn't even lift his head from your shoulder; he simply let out a long, theatrical sigh as if he’d been expecting the intrusion all along.

"Dazai! You absolute waste of bandages!"

Kunikida’s voice sliced through the jazz music like a serrated blade.

He marched down the stairs, his notebook clutched in a white-knuckled grip, with Atsushi trailing behind him looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

Behind them both, Ranpo sauntered in, shaking a wet umbrella onto everyone’s shoes and heading straight for the bowl of free snacks on the counter.

Kunikida slammed his "Ideals" notebook onto the bar right next to Dazai’s empty glass.

He began shouting about the three reports Dazai had "accidentally" shredded and the fact that a client had been waiting in the office for two hours.

He didn't even seem to notice the way you and Dazai were sitting until he stopped to take a breath.

His eyes darted down to your joined hands, then back to Dazai’s relaxed posture, and for a second, the Great Idealist actually short-circuited.

Atsushi, on the other hand, turned a bright shade of pink and started stammering apologies, bowing so low he nearly hit his head on the brass railing.

He kept trying to pull Kunikida away by his sleeve, whispering something about "giving them a moment," while Ranpo just crunched loudly on a rice cracker.

Ranpo squinted at the two of you through his glasses, gave a knowing smirk, and muttered that he’d known this would happen since Tuesday, so there was really no point in Kunikida making a scene.

Dazai finally sat up, the vulnerable softness in his eyes vanishing instantly behind a mask of playful mischief.

He beamed at Kunikida, leaning back with his hands behind his head as if he weren't the sole cause of the man’s impending heart attack.

He told Kunikida that he was actually in the middle of a very important "spiritual synchronization" exercise and that interrupting it would be a direct blow to the Agency’s productivity.

As Kunikida’s face turned a dangerous shade of purple and the shouting resumed, Dazai stole a quick glance back at you.

He gave your hand one last, secret squeeze under the table before sliding off his stool to lead his frantic coworkers on a wild goose chase back through the rain.

[osamudazailovr69]

dazai as kyubi from yokai watch!

[arabella0001]

cn: explicit sexual content. explicit consent. light sub/dom. dirty talk, rough sex. vaginal fingering. possessiveness if you squint. tsundere dazai but still dazai. fluff. explicit violent scenes.

⟡ ݁ . ݁ fandom: bungou stray dogs

⟡ ݁ . ݁ pairing: dazai osamu x depressed reader

A/N: Based on your latest choice in this pool, here we are again.

🃜 🃚 🃖

Beginning as a member of the Armed Detective Agency during your teenage years, being taken under Fukuzawa’s custody had been a crossroads in your life.

You never had anything close to a cinematic relationship with your parents. Seen as an outcast, criminalized like any other citizen who believes everything broadcasted on TV, it had been painfully difficult to accept that your own parents viewed you as an anomaly.

At least until you met others like you.

But no, that didn’t necessarily comfort you. It only kept you from feeling like a complete freak, from that specific perspective.

You didn’t possess any extraordinary social skills—nor did you consider them necessary, given that you didn’t even know what they were supposed to feel like.

And you didn’t particularly enjoy talking about yourself. Especially with Dazai.

He was a menace to be around. Always trying to prod you with irrelevant questions, as if bothered that he wasn’t the only enigmatic one in the room. Though your conversations were far from friendly, you felt he was the only one there you truly resonated with.

And that terrified you. Because Dazai wasn’t the most stable man alive.

So you kept your distance. Even if he was the only flame burning—one that stayed hidden, buried somewhere inside you. The only ember of interest.

And the bastard didn’t look bad either. Not that your thoughts about that were all that innocent. After all, you were still human. And a good fuck from time to time did wonders for one’s state of mind.

Unlucky for you, most of your experiences had taught you that it wasn’t even worth the effort.

Failures, every one of them. Usually ending with you finishing yourself off, alone. Not even a spark.

Maybe there had been one boy… Nicholas? Nikolai? Something had been more… interesting there. But you weren’t insane enough to go down that rabbit hole.

Your gaze drifted into nothingness, focused on that exact kind of thought. Though the space you were in, the empty space, was occupied by Dazai’s body. Your eyes might have been unfocused, lost in space, but you couldn’t lie.

You had looked for too long at that stupid cream coat of his. And what might possibly be hidden under it.

Dazai had one leg crossed over the other, hands resting loosely, and his smirk was the first thing you saw when you finally blinked out of your trance at the sound of his voice.

“I can’t tell whether you want to kill me or devour me with your eyes. Both seem equally flattering.”

You widened your eyes slightly, catching yourself and scoffing, rolling them with practiced disdain before turning back toward your desk chair.

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, I’m hurt. And here I thought we were getting along.”

“Not a chance.”

His smirk didn’t fade. He kept staring at your back as he stood from the couch, pretending he had something important to do. You both knew it was a lie.

With his hands in his pockets, Dazai whistled lazily as he exited the room. It made your right eye twitch.

Right. Now you could think in peace. Or rather, dissociate.

You weren’t sure since when, but something in your mind had been unraveling.

Trained to follow Fukuzawa’s orders, and not in a way you’d complain about, because he remained someone you admired, you’d managed to avoid thinking about your own self for years. And it showed.

Not knowing who you were, you began to vent your aimless frustrations into a range of destructive habits. Cutting contact with anyone who got too close. Hiding indoors as often as possible. Drinking more than you should. And the sex part… well, that had disappeared months ago. Still, you couldn’t care less.

But you couldn’t say there hadn’t been moments, fleeting ones, when something in the world made you believe life might still be worth living.

Even Dazai, in his own deranged way.

Even now, when you were reading a comfort book. One you always turned to when things became unbearable. And there he was again.

Dazai. Invading your personal space without asking, reading next to you. Even in that brutal silence you sometimes forced on him.

Not that he minded watching you. Not that you minded feeling his gaze.

—Lonely Castle in the Mirror by Mizuki Tsujimura—

“You know… Tsujimura might actually convince you that life is worth living. Be careful not to let her manipulate you, bella.”

Your usual eye-rolling sneer was still intact, but Dazai caught it—the small twitch at the corner of your mouth.

A hint of something. Proof that his months of pestering you might have finally cracked through.

Well. That made two of you.

Dazai never fancied himself the type to interfere in others’ lives without a reason.

He didn’t get to know people for the sake of it. There was always an intention. Always a motive.

He just couldn’t quite identify his own anymore. Not that night. So the safest explanation was the alcohol. Dazai wasn’t immune to intoxication. So why should he think there was any other reason to be caring for you that night?

⸻

Coming down the streets to Bar Lupin, it hadn’t been the wisest choice for a member of the ADA who had work the following morning. Still, a drink wouldn’t hurt anyone. Or so you told yourself.

At first, seeing you slumped over the bar counter with your head resting on it had been a bit of a shock—your face concealed beneath your hair, so the recognition came later.

Smiling at the bartender and ordering his usual whiskey, Dazai addressed you casually, just like he did with most strangers.

“Rough night, lady?”

His smile faltered slightly, almost betraying itself the moment you shifted your head between your arms and revealed your tired eyes.

“Bella, what are you doing here?”

He could swear it was the longest eye contact you’d ever given him, even though all you roughly muttered was a “Shut up.”

Somehow, you had tried to send him a signal that night—one he didn’t decipher all that well. That’s why he didn’t even consider the possibility that you might’ve chosen this specific bar exactly because the chances of him being here were slim. Instead, you gave him a slurred excuse, claiming it was simply the first place you saw.

Burying your face again, Dazai dared to brush his fingers through your hair, revealing your fluttering, closed eyelashes.

His gaze was serious now, looking as if a million thoughts were crossing his mind all at once.

He didn’t joke anymore. It wasn’t a matter of lacking manners that kept Dazai from being serious in either dangerous situations or regular conversation. His way of being had always been difficult for most people to understand. Still, that night there wasn’t some other hidden reason behind his help, only the quiet choice to take care of you and carry you to bed.

Depression is a fertile ground for humor, but everything has its limits. And looking at your exhausted body now, it felt like you no longer cared about anything at all.

Once you got home, Dazai was the one placing you in bed. Because, creepy enough, he knew your address. Obtained earlier from Fukuzawa, who had, in Dazai’s opinion, contemplated for far too long before agreeing to persuade someone.

A realization you reached later — but which, at that moment, only stirred your deranged fascination with him even further.

It was a surprise for him shen you started speaking, turning your face toward him just as he’d leaned in slightly for a final glance before leaving. Only your eyes were visible, the rest of you hidden beneath the blanket he’d pulled over you.

“You’re a weird person, you know?”

He felt his mouth twitch, but the moment was laced with a kind of tension he didn’t dare ruin with his usual antics.

“Yes? What makes you think that, bella?”

“That I don’t understand your intentions.”

His gaze was unreadable, even if a small smile had started forming on his lips.

“I assure you that, right now, I’m not doing anything too double-faced.”

You furrowed your brows slightly, the alcohol was scrambling your thoughts, sending out a pulse of pain.

Still, part of that expression came from irritation, revealing a little too much of how his words affected you.

“And stop saying that stupid name.”

There was a glint in his eyes, playful.

“And I assure you I can’t do that.”

You let out a barely audible scoff. Then your eyes locked with his.

He said nothing for a while. Immersed in whatever analysis he was making of you, looking for… hidden thoughts he wasn’t ready to speak aloud yet.

Then, he rose from the floor, uttering one more thing over his shoulder before vanishing into the night.

“Good night, bella.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Just watched him leave until the world around you dissolved, and only the dreams remained.

⸻

Dazai is very bad at driving. That fact was confirmed today, when you dragged him out of the car by the collar.

“You’re not fun!” His dramatics didn’t faze you as he gestured exaggeratedly when you pushed him into the passenger seat. “But being manhandled by you was kind of kinky, bella.”

You rolled your eyes, starting the car again which had been left on the opposite lane—lucky the area was deserted. The destination of the mission assigned by Fukuzawa this morning wasn’t far.

“I’m not in the mood to die today, Dazai.”

While he gestured where to turn, guiding you, Dazai answered with a pout.

“Why not? A shinjū would end the day even quicker. And it’s romantic.”

“Romantic my ass.”

He gasped, placing his hand dramatically over his mouth.

“Language, miss!”

You replied, irritated by his lack of seriousness.

“Dazai, tell me what fucking direction I’m supposed to take.”

He chuckled, returning to guiding you after an obvious waste of time when you picked the wrong street.

Still, today’s mission felt like it had been orchestrated in advance by Dazai.

⸻

The first shock was that the man you had met on that cringe conversation site was now standing in front of you. Apparently, his name was Nikolai. Nikolai Gogol.

The Decay of the Angel was a terrorist group specialized in organized murder.

An organization the man in front of you had just admitted they were part of, almost as if he wanted to be found after the brutal, grotesque murders of four government officials in just one week.

As horrific as they were, the murders were symbolic for the Buddhist Cycle of Existence.

And since four of the five “angels” had already been shown, the Agency deduced the fifth would happen soon.

Dazai’s friend, Ango, had found out too late that the man had infiltrated intel, pretending to be someone else.

So initially, when you arrived to investigate, the man looked like a member of the Special Division for Unusual Powers, so no one questioned Dazai when he began torturing the fake witness placed there by Nikolai.

While your face was horrified, staring at another version of Dazai, blood drops hitting the ground from multiple cuts, though not deadly yet, Nikolai looked at you with a side glance.

“I’m surprised to see you here, lady.”

You couldn’t answer yet, even though it had already taken too long. Both Nikolai and Dazai had a smile on their face that didn’t match the situation at all while the man in front of you screamed in pain.

Dazai spoke over his shoulder.

“Oh, you already knew Nikolai, bella? Maybe you’ll introduce me…” He delivered a particularly hard blow with his knee, making the man fall to the ground, still tied to the chair. “…over a drink.”

Dazai’s gaze dropped slightly, noticing your discomfort by how hard your muscles tensed.

Still, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Not happening.”

Nikolai chuckled while Dazai continued interrogating the witness, but you didn’t want to hear it anymore. Especially since the witness kept swearing he didn’t know anything.

Only when Dazai seemed (but wasn’t) distracted, Nikolai spoke lower, though that weird smile remained on his face.

“Was it that bad last time? You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

Another man you had to roll your eyes at.

Still, you needed the distraction from the horrible truth in front of you. You’d almost forgotten Dazai wasn’t just that annoying coworker, cheerfully stupid all the time, who you also want to fuck occasionally.

“Can you shut up? As you can see, we have to finish this mission.”

Even though you threw him a glare, Nikolai made you stop in your tracks, forcing you to glance back when his eyes glimmered with something suspicious.

But it was already too late for you.

The object from above—more like the boulder from above—was difficult to intercept or even accept that it was happening, although you sensed it just in time, throwing yourself backwards, flipping to land crouched, palms to the ground.

“You’re even more fucking insane than I thought!”

Dazai was already looking at you when you nodded at him, showing him you can handle it, just as the man tied to the chair managed to escape when no one was watching. So, Dazai start chasing him (with slow steps).

Nikolai chuckled, his hand slipping into a… pocket size portal? The curiosity in your eyes was enough for it to hurt as a sudden sharp pain struck your leg, when the portal slashed through with a blade.

“Fucking asshole!”

Ignoring the pain, you began charging toward him, fists clenched tight as he began dodging.

Your speed was impressive as you almost hit his perfect face at one point. Which made him want to disappear faster from here, vanishing after a fatal move.

It was horrifying that this was a new ability you’d never seen before, but even worse was that you didn’t see the portal forming right in the center of his stomach.

From it, a blade emerged—one that didn’t hit you. No.

It hit Dazai, who—using that terrifying speed—had moved in front of you before you could even register it.

Your shock was visible as you gasped, still Dazai smiled, placing his hand over Nikolai’s.

Nikolai furrowed his brows, analyzing the naive man in front of him who had just stabbed himself saving you.

Just as Dazai grinned at him, a line of blood sliding from his mouth as he spoke in that dangerously slow tone, looking right into his opponent’s eyes.

“No longer human.”

Then his eyes widened when his portals stopped forming, Nikolai jumped back immediately, his surprise obvious. Knowing even the slightest information about the man in front of him, the only correct choice was to retreat for now.

The wind blew your hair aside, some strands sticking to your lips while your legs trembled.

Your gaze was fixed on the red patch expanding around Dazai’s abdomen.

“Dazai—”

Your first words came out as a whisper, until your voice began to panic when his legs dropped under him. You eased him onto his back, a few tears slipping unconsciously from your eyes while frustration surged.

“Dazai, what the fuck is wrong with you? You know I can’t heal that! Why, why—”

Though panicked about what might follow, Dazai looked at your teary face one more time before closing his eyes, a smile still painted on his lips.

He couldn’t say the words through the pain, but he only felt happiness when death was near. And this, this right here was the perfect occasion.

Even the act of saving you shouldn’t be romanticized too much. He was still very much in control, so he shouldn’t be scared or anything like that.

Everything I ever want to keep, I lose.

⸻

You didn’t visit Dazai at the hospital, too horrified by what had happened.

Okay. Only the first night, when you brought him in, staying the entire night while he didn’t wake up. And after the doctor told you he would be fine, you didn’t want to see him anymore. You kind of wished you never had to again.

He’s not good for you to be around.

First of all, the torture of that innocent man still haunted you, even though you had brought him in the same night. But something told you Dazai wouldn’t personally go kneel and apologize for that.

Second, the impulsive decision he took, which you still couldn’t understand, another trigger for every other thought you had about him and how little you actually knew.

And then there was the fact that you couldn’t take the tension anymore. Not when lately it seemed to grow even worse than before.

Yes, Dazai had acted as if nothing had happened. And that made you give him the silent treatment.

A silent treatment so loud, he deemed it necessary to come to your apartment. At night. Through the window.

After knocking politely at your door first like a gentleman he was.

You stood up in panic, glancing around for something sharp, your heart pounding until you realized only two people had access to your address.

Which is why your voice came out irritated, raised.

“No fucking way.”

You opened the door with an angry expression, pouty enough that it widened Dazai’s smile.

“Good evening, bella. May I come in?”

You gestured dramatically, hands clutching at your thighs when his presence touched the room’s threshold, until you turned away.

“Do I even have a choice? You’re already inside!”

He only stepped in slightly, leaning against the doorframe.

“Someone seems quite upset with me.”

You planted one hand on your hip, standing in the middle of the room, rubbing your eyes with the other.

“No shit. Who would’ve thought? Who could possibly imagine I’d be upset at someone who almost got himself killed in front of me? For me? Or for your usual fucking stunts that stress me out?”

Fuck. A confession you prayed he wouldn’t analyze too closely. The very subtle raise of his eyebrows was carefully hidden behind his bangs.

“I’m flattered to know you care about my life, sweetheart. Or even better…that you’re capable of feeling something about me, even if it’s anger.”

You shook your head, disbelieving, shooting him a glare. Until your pulse thickened, eyes dragging from his head to toe only to meet that stupid smirk again.

“You’re fucking insane!”

You didn’t know which one of you had the more manic expression. But after your outburst, Dazai stayed perfectly composed.

He started walking slowly toward you, hands slipped inside his cloak, like always. His gaze asked you to look up at him.

“And how much does that bother you?”

Your body froze, his presence now dangerously close and you felt your throat go dry.

He wasn’t ashamed. Not even a little, when his eyes lingered on your parted lips. Lips that invited.

“Do you want to fuck me, Dazai?”

The pause that followed was awful as your pulse thrashing, vision slightly blurring around the edges.

“Depends, bella.”

His reply snapped your thoughts back into motion, pushing you to end this maddening tension. But Dazai had other plans.

He made you step backward, slowly, until you hit the desk near the bed.

“Depends on what?”

His expression shifted, more serious now.

A reminder of the dangerous man standing in front of you. And yet, his voice dropped just enough to make your knees weaken.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

You looked at Dazai with an intense impression, as if it were a mix of repulsion and longing at the same time. You crave him, you truly do. And gladly, you weren’t the only one.

The atmosphere had become so dense it was almost suffocating. Your eyes hurled daggers toward him, attempting to slice him open with your response.

“Yes.”

Intentionally allowing your pulse to escalate, Dazai waited a moment before cupping your cheek and pressing his lips against yours.

You moaned at the sensation, the purring desire of his mouth consuming yours.

As you eagerly parted your lips wider, your fingers tangled in his hair, grasping it tenderly, just as his tongue slipped inside your mouth. You attempted to dominate the kiss, leaning further into him, kissing him briefly before catching his lower lip between your teeth, tugging softly.

Dazai exhaled a low, guttural breath, his warm breath grazing your lips. His eyes, obscured by his bandages, cast a cryptic shadow, while you stared at him with feral, untamed eyes, pressed against the table.

A wicked smile curled on his lips.

In a second, he was looming over you again, chasing your mouth, one hand still on your cheek, the other gliding along your back.

He began to knead your skin gently while kissing you, and when his hand slipped beneath your shirt, touching your bare warmth, his mouth wandered from yours to your neck, planting slow, perhaps overly sensual kisses that made your knees falter.

“F-fuck.”

His grin widened above your neck, his hand traveling upward, lifting your shirt slightly in the process until he reached the nape of your neck.

Tightening his grip so he could maneuver your head, granting himself more access to your neck and chest, Dazai began to mark you. The pain ignited such profound pleasure that your hips bucked into him, pleading for his touch. He felt a pulse of exhilaration when his bites elicited your moans—pain, it seemed, aroused you more than anything else.

“Calling my name like that and I might do anything you want, bella.”

The hand on your neck drifted into your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp.

“Fuck me, Dazai. I need you to fucking have me.”

Dazai leaned close to your ear, pulling harder on your hair as he lifted your leg, placing it on his hip and drawing you closer. You couldn’t breathe.

"I'm surprised to hear that, Bella. I thought you didn’t like me." Dazai’s movements made your knees buckle again, his lips capturing your earlobe, sucking on it languidly. You felt yourself growing embarrassingly wetter as he bit it and then soothed it with his tongue. “But we’re not rushing anywhere."

You swallowed, feeling more delicate in his arms than you ever did in your own solitude, surrounded by four silent walls and an exhausting existence. Yet somehow, Dazai made you feel entirely at his mercy. Entirely his.

You murmured between shallow breaths, moving your hand to his abdomen, feeling the firmness beneath his black satin blouse.

"Do whatever you want to me. I need—"

He let out a soft chuckle, making your heart jolt as he shifted his hand—one lifting your leg higher, the other slipping between your thighs.

"You want to use me, more like. Isn’t that right, beautiful?"

Words failed you. You merely shook your head, denying it, as his fingers teased your inner thighs. You spread your legs for him, and though he delighted in being a tease, your desperation began to unravel his control.

Your head fell back when Dazai touched you exactly where you needed, your pussy throbbing against his hand as he spread your arousal from your clit down to your entrance, then back again.

“Mhm—”

As he circled slowly, deliberately, you leaned your head onto his shoulder, moaning his name while he finally pushed a finger inside you. The second came swiftly, necessary, considering how soaked you were. His breath grew ragged against your ear as he guided you through it.

“Let go for me, bella. Yes, like this. Now.”

Your legs gave out, and his hand came in a swift motion to support your body as you climaxed hard, muffling a cry of his name into his neck.

He gave you only a moment before turning you around. Seeing the bed ahead, he let you collapse onto your belly, ass slightly raised. You glanced back over your shoulder at Dazai, licking your lips in anticipation as he found your pants, yanking them down quickly, making you yelp.

You never imagined needing someone this close. Your breath caught in your chest from how badly you craved his touch. Maybe it was after the orgasmic vulnerability or so you hoped.

He climbed onto the bed with one knee, his hands flanking your sides as his loose curls brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.Then, a gasp escaped you when you felt Dazai's lips trail down your back until his head slipped between your legs. You raised your hips, ass tilted toward him, and Dazai eagerly began licking you over your soaked panties which had no right to still be on.

You clenched the blanket in your limp hands, letting out shameless, continuous mewls of pleasure.

"You're so... so fucking good—"

Your face pressed down into the mattress as Dazai let out a deep chuckle, slipping your drenched panties to the floor and caressing your trembling thighs in between his languid licks.

You gasped as he moved you again, this time onto your back, positioning himself over you. With hesitant fingers, you brushed the strands of hair from his face as he offered that signature smile.

His gaze revealed the mutual yearning between you, though his wasn’t as evident as yours. You never expected much from Dazai—but touching him, being here with him, made him seem less like a threat.

Dazai, however, remained detached. Though he allowed you more tenderness than he probably should have, considering the volatile boundary between you. One that, to him, signified weakness.

Still, he responded to your kiss when you pulled him down by the neck, resting one hand there to keep him close. When you moved to remove his shirt, he seized both your wrists and pinned them above your head. You didn’t insisted, barely noticed what you did.

He leaned in to capture your lips again, kissing you slowly, his tongue gliding over yours, making your heart pound erratically for something that was supposed to be just sex. You furrowed your brow, forcing away the overwhelming emotions, because with Dazai…you felt alive.

You remained silent, afraid your vulnerability would spill out and ruin you. So instead, you let him heal you—if only a little. If only for tonight.

Dazai continued to kiss you as you spread your legs, feeling him press against you through his black trousers. You relished that moment, even if it wasn’t enough, wrapping your legs around him.

He bit your neck again, in the same places, the pain exquisite, and you abandoned your shame when all you could do was moan.

"More, Dazai—I can't..."

Though his hands reached for his belt, his gaze darkened, unreadable, as if he demanded something more intimate before surrendering.

"If you confess something to me."

Hearing the click of the belt, your eyes flicked from his hands back to his face, anxiety tightening in your chest.

"W-what?"

He cupped your cheeks gently, forcing your eyes to meet the void within his.

"That you like that I adore your sadness more than your smile?" Dazai murmured, sliding his pants off discreetly. "That you'd let me dismantle you until you respond only to me?" His voice thickened. “That even if I walked away like the cruel man I am... you'd still crave me?"

You swallowed hard, heat rushing through your entire body at his depraved, seductive words. Feeling him at your entrance made you weak—pliant, and so easy to ruin.

“I hate you.”

His smile returned, laced with doubt, as he took his hardened cock in hand, spreading his pre-cum over your folds.

Your mouth fell open at the sensation, chasing his movement with your hips, your eyes still fixed on his.

“I don’t believe you, bella.”

Your vulnerable gaze was all Dazai needed before he pushed into you, his mouth parting as he slowly filled you. A moan escaped him and you clenched around him at the sound as he began thrusting deeper, slower.

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to steal your breath, forcing your eyes open when they fluttered shut.

He slid his thumb into your mouth, watching your lips close around it as he increased his pace. A single tear slid down your cheek from the overwhelming bliss.

“You’re so good to me, D-Dazai—Fuck! Fuck! Please, harder!”

He shifted, lifting your legs and holding them up to thrust deeper. His fingers found your clit again, sending you over the edge.

“Yes? Then let go for me again, bella. Prove it to me.”

“K-kiss me—”

You felt the moment passing by, Dazai looking at you indecipherably as you were, unraveling yourself in front of him. From another perspective, you almost felt like he was avoiding it, dissecting the intimacy of the moment. But still, his kiss came, swallowing all your moans when two more moves of his fingers get your orgasm closer and closer until you come all over him.

He didn’t stop no, his thrust became deeper, merciless, making your breath stopped between the thrusts. Dazai leaned his temple over yours, groaning as his own orgasm came faster. He quickly got up off you, pulling out to release himself on you, flowing between your legs.

You couldn't take your eyes off him, somehow feeling that he wouldn't let you look down, only at him.. It was like a trance that only he could put you in and take you out of.

After your breathing calmed down, you slowly got up on your elbows, avoiding his gaze.

"Can you bring me a towel?"

He nodded slightly, even if you didn't see it, moving silently toward the bathroom. When he came back, Dazai was no longer the same person he had been a few minutes earlier.

You could feel your heart beating in your chest as he began to wipe away what was left of you, with a serious, indescribable look on his face.

You didn't even know what to feel. That was the effect he had on you. You crouched down a little, looking for your clothes, and he onserved you, so he picked the clothes up off the floor. He had already gotten dressed in the bathroom.

You didn't expect to be hugging or anything, he didn't seem like that type. But you couldn't help feeling sad—

Your eyes widened when Dazai leaned toward you, whispering in your ear.

"See you tomorrow, bella."

You felt his lips leave a soft kiss on your cheek before he left, taking his cloak from the chair.

As your hand rested on your cheek, staring into space, Dazai smiled a little. One more glance at you before he left your room.

You knew what you were getting yourself into with a man like him. And yet... you don't think you'd back down if the opportunity arose again.

But don't you think it's too soon, considering that Dazai was arrested after the evidence was found after Mushitarō's ability stopped.

Your inconsistent feelings about Dazai persist.