it’s dangerous to go alone!

I HAVE A LOT OF REGRETS ABOUT THAT

osamu dazai x reader, 18 dark ages! dazai

you take care of dazai while he’s ill and in a rare moment of vulnerability.

for 🚬 anon! thank you for supporting 🤍

inspired by this is me trying

he didn’t think it was possible to be so ahead.

he was only 18, and had committed hundreds of crimes. he was a young man, and yet the star pupil of the mafia boss. he had only been in the world for less than a few decades, and yet knew the world better than anyone.

so was he ahead, or was he behind? perhaps he was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.

his head is pounding, feeling the ache in his eyes. his body feels slack, like its giving up on him despite only just growing it itself. he’s weak, and hiding out in his apartment like a coward. if someone wanted to kill him, now would be the time to do it.

luckily, thats not what you’re here to do. much to his dismay.

he was wary at first, letting you in. he says the usual- that he’ll get you sick and that he can handle himself. but the man who’s wrapped in bandages clearly can’t take care of himself, even if its just a simple cold.

so you trudge in anyway, sighing at his empty fridge with only a few expired contents. how he was surviving was a mystery to you.

so you put together what you can, forging a soup with crab meat so he’ll actually eat it. you don’t know, but he’s watching you from his bedroom.

he’s not used to being taken care of.

truthfully, he could follow his fears all the way down. he could let his shiny wheels rust, and succumb to the realities of life. its what he always preaches about, anyway. he says he wants death, but more so just a reason to go on. whether there was one for him was a different question.

he sighs wearily when you bring a bowl of soup to him, only realizing how hungry he is when he can smell it wafting towards his nostrils. “thank you, darling.” he hums, not caring for the way it slightly burns his fingertips when he takes it from you.

normally, he’d call you an angel for taking care of him, and ask you to commit double suicide holding his hand. you know he’s tired when all he can manage is a thank you before he’s eating the soup like its his first meal in days. honestly, it might have been.

“how are you feeling?” you ask, sitting next to him on the bed. he almost smiles when you put hour hand against his forehead, feeling his temperature. maybe he loves your cold hands against his burning hot skin, or maybe he loves you. probably both.

he resigns to remain strong. because he doesn’t want to be an open wound. its hard to be anywhere these days when all he wants is you, but he can’t admit that. what would happen if he trusted? if he let himself be saved? who would he lose?

“i’m okay.” he says, curving his dehydrated lips into a smile.

you sigh.

his lies are a flashback in a film reel. you’ve seen them before, but they still hurt.

“don’t give me that.” you say, clutching his bandaged hands. “let me care about you, ‘samu.”

for just a moment there, his smirk falls.

he’s used to being told that all his problems are mental. he’s used to getting wasted at bars, like all his potential. he’s used to downing everything he could have been, had he not been exposed to evil at such a young age.

evil expects evil from others. dazai himself was evil. so why weren’t you?

he doesn’t know. but he knows he’s anything but okay right now.

“i’m… tired. and my head is killing me.” he whispers, setting aside his near empty bowl of soup. he looks tired.

you don’t say anything, but he does let you gently push him onto the bed. his heart flutters when he feels you tuck the blankets around him, and end with a kiss on his forehead.

“you rest.” you hum. “i’m gonna go do your groceries. you need more than just instant food, ‘samu. but you are paying me back.”

he’s too tired to protest, and maybe he loves being taken care of. this is him trying.

HELP ME HOLD ONTO YOU

osamu dazai x reader

in a rare moment of what he believes to be weakness, you help your boyfriend through a panic attack.

mentions of anxiety and dazai’s trauma 🤍 please read with discretion

inspired by the archer

dazai’s been the archer, and he’s been the prey.

he’s experienced both sides of an uneven coin. he’s been the hunter, the one of top with the power and the last laugh. alternatively, he’s been stomped on and hurt, used as nothing but a pawn.

both sides ultimately left a hole in his heart. he expects evil, the same evil he’s given to people his entire life. who expects betrayal, death, or simple abandonment. in the face of that pain, he smiles.

he smiles because he’s expected it. he smiles to hide what he truly feels inside. like all the kings horses and men couldn’t put him together again.

he’s easy to approach, but hard to love. anyone who could see through his barriers, his equations and puzzles was certainly someone special. breaking through his walls was rewarding to you- since you discovered what it truly means to love osamu dazai.

loving him was like assessing an equation. his charm, his humour, his charisma- thats what people like about dazai. and for the most part, he’s fine with the surface level. but loving him means sitting next to him, tangled together on the couch, letting his hand press against your heart as he steels himself.

no one knows what truly goes on in dazai’s head. even when he vocalizes his thoughts, most people couldn’t ration his peculiar ideas. it seemed as though the only time you could see into his tortured heart was when he openly gave it to you, allowing himself to be loved.

he’s breathing is picking up as he his hand ever so slightly tightens around yours. he’s thinking and thinking deep, wondering if its okay for him to be this vulnerable around you.

he’s spent the entire night pacing like a ghost. he looked around and felt like the room was on fire, invisible smoke filling his lungs. all of the people he’s ever cared about die all alone.

when be turns to you, shutting his eyes and letting his forehead rest against yours, he searches for your dark side. be physically can’t believe that he’s safe, that he’s alright when he’s with you. no one knows it, but dazai is on survival mode long after he’s needed to be.

his mind ruminates on his failures and his shortcomings, wondering all the things that could have been different. the people he could have protected. the crimes he didn’t have to commit. the one life he could have saved.

if he was just a second sooner, just a bit faster. if he was perfect instead of almost perfect. if he could ever truly become a good man.

they see right through me.

they see right through me.

they see right through me.

[y/n] sees right through me.

even i see right through me-

“osamu.” you say, bringing him back to reality. “breathe.”

with that simple word, his eyes open. he didn’t even realize how much his breathing had picked up evident by the sweat on his palms and the frown curved on his lips.

you cup his face in your hands as he continues to ground himself, clinging to yours presence like a life buoy. he’s shaking.

suddenly, he’s holding onto you. dazai was always clingy, but this time it felt different. your quick to hug him back, throwing your arms around his back and rubbing soft circles over him. he presses his face into your bare shoulder, taking in your smell and assuring himself that you’re real.

at the end, he lets out and exasperated chuckle, pulling away just enough to look into your face. his eyes are glossy and it breaks your heart, knowing that he’s likely holding back his feelings.

“who could ever leave me, darling?” he asks sardonically, his lips curving into a forced smile. he doesn’t want you to see him like this. he’s got a 100 thrown out speeches he wants to say to you, about who he really is. and its moments like this when he feels like he can. that, despite all of his wrong doings, you’d still somehow love him.

he hopes you’ll see past his facade of being okay. and you do.

“i’m not going anywhere.” you whisper. thats the moment he realizes that you could stay.

and he searches your face for any signs of deception, the lies and betrayal he had known all his life.

he finds none.

YOU’RE IN THE KITCHEN HUMMING

osamu dazai x reader

you show dazai the beauty in domestic life

inspired by sweet nothing

when dazai pictured his future, he pictured it short.

a mastermind of people, he knew that that the universe would eventually catch up to him. to his crimes, his wrongdoings, and all of his faults. truth be told, he pictured himself in some sort of prison, bleeding out on a stake of revenge, or simply just gone. he never exactly rejected death in the first place. he accepted it with open arms.

so to think he’d find himself, washing dishes from leftover marinated crab meat and glasses stained with sake while you do the laundry is more of a surprise than anything else. every now and then he looks over his shoulder, watching how you handle the delicate fabric of his brown vest with such care. you always use unscented soap. though you certainly have the money to buy lavender, or bergamot, the two of you enjoyed the simplicity of regular soap. because then, it has the scent of home.

but what exactly does home smell like? for so many years, he couldn’t answer that question. how do you match a scent to something that doesn’t exist? maybe he’d say it smelt like the port mafia hallways, or the smell of old bandages. maybe dazai felt that home smelled like it wasn’t there to stay.

now, home smells like you. it smells like the face mask you make him use because he takes shit care of himself. it smells like your bare shoulder in the morning, the patch of skin he always insists he kisses you awake on. it smells like your laughter, your smile, your beautiful eyes. you were home.

“samu?” you quip, pulling your boyfriend out of his trances. he blinks, his lazily draped arms subconsciously tightening around you.

“yes bella?” he asks, his voice lazy and his brown eyes tired from the day. if he could melt and simply become apart of you, he would. you’re the only part of himself he actually seems to love, anyway.

“were you listening?” you chuckle, knowing that he’s a thinker. he loves you for understanding that, for knowing the signs when he’s lost in his own brain. his nail biting, his wandering eyes, his occasional hums. you know it all, maybe better than dazai knows it about himself. you’d give anything to see what he’s thinking, the beautiful equations in his brain.

his lips curve into a smile, refocusing on you as you laid in his lap all tuckered out. “i’m sorry.”

you sigh, half disappointed but half too-love-struck-to-care. he pulls you flush against his chest, letting you listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. oh, how beautiful it sounds.

“i was saying we should go down to that new bakery.” you hum, not minding to recount your experiences for him. “atsushi told me kyouka really likes the crepes there.”

you know he’s listening this time, evident by the way his slender fingers travel through your hair. he loves the silky feel of it, how it may be the softest thing he’s ever felt after years of strangling throats and pulling triggers.

he melts onto that couch with you. the only other sound that can be heard is the occasional drip and drop from the sink. he makes a mental note to check on it in the morning, making sure its not leaking too much.

in his experience, everyone was up to something. no person was just kind for the sake of being kind. and for all his life, people wanted things from dazai. he was used and shaped into a demon when all he’s ever wanted was just to disappear. he insists he’s fine, and that this is just the person he is. he assures everyone that the voices he hears, in and external, don’t bother him at all.

but to you he can admit, that sometimes, he’s just too soft for all of it.

you built a home from the ground up with him. you sheltered and fed a man who never knew what it was like to be loved without condition. all you ever wanted from dazai was nothing. sweet, sweet nothings. and he knew he’d give you everything he is and more in return for that love, for those sweet nothings.

I CHOOSE YOU AND ME, RELIGIOUSLY

osamu dazai x reader

thoughts about how dazai would treat you

same premise as the chuuya + atsushi ver

inspired by guilty as sin

osamu dazai, who doesn’t really know how to love. you confuse him and challenge the equations in his head. who is a mystery to everyone, even himself. who is sure that nothing will fill his heart. who is easy to approach, but hard to love.

osamu dazai, who wonders if he’s allowed to cry. if he’s allowed to show any real emotion behind the walls and bandages he’s put up. who wonders if he- an absolute vile monster of a man- is allowed to love you. who wonders if he deserves anything more than death for what he’s done, for the demon he still thinks he is.

osamu dazai, who still tries to be a good man. who takes the words of his former friend to heart. who wonders when he’ll deserve to love. who wonders when he’s considered good enough to love you. who is usually so smart, so calculated, and so thoughtful, and who is at an embarrassing loss for words when it comes to you.

osamu dazai, who decides he’ll bet against the universe once again. who throws his life to the wolves and the ocean rocks if it means getting to hold you. who treats you like gold, whispering words into your ear he would never dare to speak to anyone else. “you’re not my first kiss, my first time, or even my first ‘i love you’ but you are the first person who made living seem possible for me.”

osamu dazai, who prefers to be alone. who knows thats what makes you different, because for the first time ever, he craves your presence. he wants you in his lap while he reads, who actively pulls you towards him when he sleeps, who kisses your knuckles before leaving for a mission, who returns to engulf you in his embrace when he steps into a home. who actually thinks of his apartment as a home when you’re in it.

osamu dazai, who everyone thinks is a womanizer, but is secretly a gentlemen. who knows chivalry like its his first language. who always opens to the door for you, slips his hand around your waist like a puzzle piece, who zips up all your clothes for you, who presses kisses underneath your ear while he’s at it, who reads you poetry, who teases you because he can’t help but love the way you turn pink, who somehow manages to keep the flowers he buys for you alive for longer, who knows everything about you, and who lets you decode his soul.

osamu dazai, who wants you to know him as well as he knows you. who tells you about his past, about his wrongdoings, about odasaku. who swears that the most human he has ever felt was when he was looking at you. who can’t fathom how you’re real. who lets you see whats under his bandages. how his heart swells when you kiss each one.

osamu dazai, who makes chuuya promise him to protect you should anything ever happen to him. who can’t stand the thought of you leaving, even though death was such a common feeling for him in his life. who tells chuuya you’re his everything, and trusts him to look after you. who can’t imagine another man ever loving you, but knows that chuuya is a man of promises, and will not let anyone touch a hair on your head once he’s gone.

osamu dazai, who thinks of you as way to die. who takes one look at you and recalls things that haven’t even happened yet. late nights, messy kisses, promises, families, embraces, heaven, sin, unraveling, scars, loving not despite but because. who’s heart is so full of you he can barely call it his own anymore.

osamu dazai, who thinks that even if its all make belief, and if he’s simply made you up, he’ll uphold his vows anyway. he’ll still come home to you with a kiss to your forehead. he’ll still always give you his jacket when you even slightly shiver. he’ll still read to you his favourite poetry, tell you his secrets and watch how you love him anyway. he thinks that even if you aren’t real, he’ll love you like his favourite storybook.

osamu dazai, who knows the world will crucify him anyway. who knows he’ll likely pay for what he’s done at some point. who knows the universe will catch up to him soon, even though he’s trying to be better. who thinks its okay if he gets what he deserves, even if its death, because he’s already seen heaven just by kissing you. who thinks that way you hold him is spiritually holy, who lets you haunt him stunningly. he vows to find you in another life, one where he can deserve you. a life where he an love you with no limits. who knows he’ll choose you, always.

WHAT IF I TOLD YOU NONE OF IT WAS ACCIDENTAL?

dazai x reader

the first night dazai saw you, he knew nothing would stop him.

for his birthday!

inspired by mastermind

osamu dazai, for all his life, had not felt the warm bliss of love. he did not have a mothers arms to lay in, or a fathers protection to shield him. he didn't have the privilege of a second family through friends, or even the comfort of loving himself. osamu dazai was not given love, not even for a moment, so he taught himself how to gain it. he was only cryptic and machiavellian because he cared, more than he wanted to admit.

so the moment he saw you, he felt a desire stronger than ever. you wouldn't require just a simple trick or a con- no, you deserved more. he laid out the groundwork, equations in his a mind a labyrinth of desperation only you could suffice.

osamu dazai wanted you.

and he knew how to get you.

honestly, who could blame him?

dazai was a master of people. he knows how to play people like puppets to get what he wants. none of it was accidental when it came to you. the coincidental run-ins at your favorite coffee shop that was at least a 30 minute cab ride for him. the times you conveniently forgot your umbrella when you swore you packed it, and dazai just happening to be passing by on your walk home. even the time you had just been dumped by your ex-boyfriend over the phone, and dazai just happened to show up at your doorstep just checking in.

maybe you should have noticed how fabricated it was at first. but you didn’t. dazai wanted you. and he made you want him.

dazai made you want every part of him. his silky hair his deep brown eyes, his honeyed voice and his suave way of walking. he made you want all of him, the good and the bad, his charm and his want for death, his desire to be good and the deep dark past of who he once was. dazai played love like a puppet show. whenever you laid on his chest, snuggled into his warmth, or when your lips were hopelessly pressed against his, dazai knew he had you. he knew he made you want him.

whether you find out or not isn't a concern to the brunette. you love him unconditionally anyway- you're his belladonna, his love, his everything. when he kisses you, the planets and stars align as if all of the pain in his life had led him here. the empty core in his heart aches at the thought of being eased, as if afraid of being happy. but your touch melts it away. you see that he is so touch starved, so deprived of love that he just had to assess the equation of you. he did this for as much for you as he did for him, knowing that he could live through even just one more day if it meant he could love you.

he needs your fingers to intertwine with his the way a chess player needs the queen. he needs your warmth like the largest gear needs the smallest gear in a machine. he needs your reassurance like the way water needs oxygen. because osamu dazai understands a lot of things well- chess, machinery, chemical compositions, and the way you love him. he knows its a need. he knows he needs your love not like his inner child wanted candy, he knows he needs your love the way the flower needs the sun.

his eyes stir awake, sunlight filtering through the curtains of your bedroom. his skin tickles, his cheek being peppered by your kisses. a smile tugs at his lips as he stretches his arms over his head and then around you, greeting you with a "good morning" in the deepest morning voice you have ever heard. dazai was usually light sleeper, but with you he could truly rest and escape into the sheets with you.

"happy birthday, 'samu." you hum, tracing your fingers down his abdomen. every contour of his bandaged yet muscled chest screamed at you to love him with everything in you. you would kiss every inch of him- starting from his hair to the very depths of his soul if you could.

"hm?" he quips, coffee eyes slightly widening.

you chuckle. "its june 19th."

"oh."

in all honesty, his birthday is the last thing on his mind, especially when you're in front of him. you are so, so, fucking beautiful he isn’t even sure you’re real. not just beautiful in your absolutely angelic complexion, but you're beautiful simply when you're you. when you're on top of him, the new sunlight on the earth dancing on your skin. lips bruised from the night's fleeting passion, hair messy and soul absolutely smothered in him. you drove him crazy, and he'd gladly lose his mind for you.

"thank you, bella." he hums, lazily draping an arm over you, as if there was anyway he could possibly pull you closer. dazai would find a way if it meant loving you harder. never, in a million years, did he think his partner would drag him out of bed and to the living room. he rubs his eyes, finding the agency standing in your apartment, an excited atsushi and a begrudging but willing kunikida, surrounding a cake for him. he never thought it would turn out like this, this good. he's stunned for a moment- a rare emotion for the young prodigy. was... this also apart of his plan?

maybe not. but as he kissed you and whispered a passionate "thank you" into your ear, he decides that this wasn't planned- it was luck. and he loved it. funny how sometimes you just find things.

BSD CHARACTER PET PEEVES

various, just a few hcs! a few x reader things in there too

atsushi is a pretty easy-going guy and not many things seem to piss him off. the biggest exception to this is bad breath. maybe its because his ability grants him heightened senses, but his face scowls in disgust whenever someone dazai has an off smell while speaking. on the flipside, atsushi can also smell his own breath. sometimes late at night when he comes home you find him scrubbing his teeth, with soap if he uses up all the toothpaste. buy him lots of mints! he’ll probably end up offering them to people dazai

much like atsushi, tanizaki isn’t easily bothered. however, if he is rushing to return home to his dear sister, or walking by her side on the street, he hates slow walkers. his patience wears thin whenever someone on the sidewalk is meandering with 0 spacial awareness. he doesn’t often act on it, leaving you to squeak by an excuse me! to make way for you and him- and he loves you for it.

yosano has many, many pet peeves- but the biggest of these is leaving the toilet seat up. poor girl has to share an office with so many boys- and it doesn’t help that she already has a strong distaste for the opposite gender. she will either use her leg or will call you to come fix it for her- and afterwards she’ll lecture you on all the harmful bacteria you can contract illnesses from in bathrooms. shes a doctor and she means well <3 just fix the damn toilet seat

ranpo, being a lover of sweets, hates overly priced candy. he is childish and isn’t too financially literate, but he knows that a pack of gum should not be $6. he especially hates gas station candy- one, for the quality, but two for the fact that they cost you an arm and a leg. take him to a regular grocery store- or better yet- make him some sweets yourself! they taste better when you make them and when they’re free

kenji is a sweet, easy going, ray of sunshine who hates the sound of stomachs growling- especially his own. perhaps its because of his strong feelings toward poverty, and the sounds of hunger sends shivers down his spine, but he especially can’t stand it if its from his or your tummy. make sure he (and yourself!) are always fed <3 unless he needs to pick up some cars and lift stop signs from the ground

kyouka hates knuckles cracking with all her being. really any body part casually being cracked in public annoys her. i say this because i hc atsushi to be a big knuckle cracker, and can imagine kyouka silently quaking with rage next to him with demon snow prepared to strike. please don’t crack anything around her!

lord, kunikida’s list pf annoyances probably take up 3 pages. gum chewing, interruptions, tardiness, misspellings- but the biggest of these is giving and not returning. and this is SPECIFICALLY for his precious fountain pens. he has a written list of every time and every pen dazai has borrowed and has never gotten back. i imagine dazai does that purely because he knows it pisses kunikida off, and just has his pens lying around in a drawer somewhere. please always return his things! and give him a peck on the cheek too <3

dazai isn’t on this list because dazai is the pet peeve of the whole agency

PHONE CALL

dazai x fem! reader

smut, minors DNI (ageless blogs will be blocked)

dazai fucks you while you’re on the phone.

oral (fem receiving), degrading, slight humiliation, edging, dazai being kind of an asshole

dazai had you pinned against his bed, legs thrown over his shoulders. clothes had been long forgotten at this point, as the only thing you could truly focus on was your mind going blank.

one hand fondled your breast, squeezing and massaging it in soft circles. he rolled your nipple in between his fingers, pinching you gasped at his fast pace. meanwhile, his other hand diligently fingered your sweet pussy, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit while his two fingers thrusted in and out of you. he’d smirk every time he felt your walls clench around his slender digits.

you wanted to cry out, moan for him to let you release, but there was one problem.

dazai had dialled the armed detective agency on your phone. you called in sick today, but the president had insisted you at least attend the important meeting over the phone. and thats how you ended up here.

for now, he has given you the mercy of muting the call, but your embarrassment spoke volumes. he sped up the pace of his fingers, immediately causing your hands to fly up to your mouth covering yourself. dazai was quick to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, leaning in to whisper into your ear.

“now now bella, how will they hear your beautiful moans with your mouth covered?” he knew what he was doing, refusing to let your wrists go as his fingers worked tirelessly on your pussy. you were dripping by now, his fingers sliding in and out of you at a slick pace. you were ready to cum any minute now, but not when it was dazai pleasuring you.

“my pretty little slut wants to cum? hm? not till i’ve gotten a taste of you..‘’

much to your dismay, dazai unmuted the call. it was now up to you to stay quiet.

he lowered his head, throwing your thighs over his shoulders. he grins as he trails his head down your body, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers. he teases your sensitive bundle of nerves with feather-light kisses, kissing the innermost corners of your thighs but not daring to eat you out. he wanted this to be slow. he wanted you to lose your mind.

his eyes gleam with wicked delight as he hovers mere inches from your throbbing pussy. he slowly, tantalizingly drags the tip of his tongue along your swollen clit, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. he dips his head lower, his tongue circling your entrance before slowly pushing inside. dazai moans against your slick folds, savoring your sweet taste as he works to drive you wild with need. he slowly and torturously running his tongue along your slick folds, savouring your taste like no other.

your hands covered your mouth. you wanted to scream and cry for him, tell him to go faster and beg him to let you cum, but not when you had people listening. dazai knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he loved it.

dazai groans hungrily as he dives in, his skilled tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. he laps at your sensitive flesh, delighting in the way you squirm and moan under his touch. his movements are relentless, driving you wild with pleasure as he savors your tangy taste. he sucks and licks with shameless abandon, working to push you closer and closer to the edge of release. he holds nothing back, determined to bring you to the heights of pleasure - and to torment you for his own sadistic delight.

he plunges his tongue back inside, stroking and teasing your most sensitive spots as his fingers grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place. dazai is relentless in this, determined to fill you with ecstasy. staying quiet was becoming unbearable. his tongue leaves no part of you untouched. he starts to suck ob your clit, knowing how close you were to cumming but refusing to let you. he sucks hard and then using his tongue to leave a long stroke up and down your folds. the noises of your co-workers was mere white noise to you. you could only focus on the way his tongue ate you out like a starved man.

after what felt like forever, dazai pulled back up. to your relief, he muted the phone once more. you took the opportunity to catch your breath, but apart of you knew he wasn’t done. he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

“f-fuck. please, fuck i-i’m gonna cum..” you begged to him. he only smirked, knowing what he was doing to you.

“is that so? you’re such a pretty slut, if only they knew how obedient you are to me..” he placed a wet kiss on your neck. he lined up his cock to your entrance, ready to claim you. but he held back, purposely teasing your sensitive clit without granting you what you wanted so bad.

“look at you, so wet and needy for me…” slowly, sensually, he ran the tip of his shaft up and down your slick folds, eliciting a frustrated whimper from you. he chuckled darkly, reveling in the power he held over you. “you have to beg for it first.”

“please.. please i need your cock so bad dazai! i-i want you to fuck me… please..” you could barely speak, needing nothing but for him to pound into you like he owned your pussy.

he leaned in once again. “if you think about cumming without my permission, i’ll fuck you right in the agency office.”

with that, he unmuted the phone-call and pushed himself inside of you. he thrust his hips forward, burying his throbbing cock deep inside your welcoming heat. a groan escaped his lips at the sensation of their tight, slick walls enveloping him. luckily, the meeting was just about over, but at this point neither of you cared. dazai finally ended the call, letting you scream to your hearts content.

picking up a punishing pace, dazai pounded into you, relentlessly driving his cock home again and again. the sound of your bodies slapping together filled the air, mingling with their cries of pleasure and pain. "thats right, take my cock like the dirty slut you are," he groaned, voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. “you were made for this, to be used and filled up by me.”

your pussy ached to cum, wanting to clench around his cock with your release. the sounds from your mouth was a mixture of moans, cries, and begging. his pace began to get sloppy, wanting nothing more than to plant himself deep inside of you. but he wasn’t going to make it that easy for you.

“you wanna cum? hm? beg.” he teased.

“please! fuck- oh- please.. please let me cum dazai! i can’t take it anymore.. fuck..”

he leaned down, planting one last wet kiss underneath your ear. “than cum for me.”

you screamed.

you felt your walls clench around his cock, your cum coating him perfectly. dazai planted his release in thick white ropes of cum, pulling out and watching your pussy drip full of him. he left more lazy kisses on your neck, bringing you back down to earth by his side. you gasped, your body warm and buzzing enjoying his warmth on top of you. but despite your exhaustion, something piqued your interest.

“now, about what you said about fucking me in the agency office?”

LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIPS

osamu dazai x reader

ADA! dazai

PM! reader

the anxiety of your relationship with dazai tears down your walls of safety.

to couples all around you, love was bright. love was warm and love was beautiful. love was a sacred, precious glow that engulfed only the souls who were lucky enough to grasp it.

for you, however, love was something very different.

love was a sly bastard. love knew many secrets and deals it shouldn’t have. love was risky and restless. love chewed its nails to a pulp in anxiety. love tossed and turned at night replaying arguments over and over again and winning each time. love knew no bounds, but that only allowed it to tarnish yours and your lovers souls each passing day.

you swiped on your phone so many times you may as well have been abusing it, all to see the timestamps of his texts. the last text he sent you, letting you know that he had made it home safely, was at 9:20 pm. it was now 9:26. a six minute difference. only 360 seconds had passed since you had last heard from him. and your heart raced like it had never before.

where the fuck was he?

what if something happened to him? what if the other executives know? what if mori sent someone after him because they somehow know? what if something already happened and you’re too late? what if you already lost him and you cant get him back and he won’t come back and-

bzzt!

osamu: you need to stop worrying, [n/n]

9:28 pm

you had hopelessly fallen for dazai the moment you walked through his office doors. you were a mere subordinate for the port mafia, a skilled and sly agent who knew more than most how to sneak around. the world beat you down into the cement and forced you into a corner, and the only way out was to live on the wrong side of the law. you didn’t have the time, money or even the energy to think of another way out.

and you knew your dazai well. you knew that the life of the port mafia was never going to last forever, at least not for him. you saw it in his eyes, the way he longed to do something more. almost as much as he longed for you. and it was that final push of losing someone that allowed him to leave. and you were proud.

but. you also wanted to be selfish.

did finding his reason living mean no longer loving you?

you didn’t want to find out.

dazai had left in a hurry that night. it was one quick goodbye hug and one quick kiss that also managed to slow down time all together. if there was one thing you wanted to do, it was to freeze time on the moment his lips were still your lips. the ones only you could kiss. the ones that bared your name like no one else. were they still yours?

you had lost track of how long it had truly been. maybe a few months, if you had to guess. recently, mori had promoted you to executive status. you were conflicted, replacing the role your lover had escaped, but you knew this way you’d be safe. you would never have to worry about the burdens that pushed you into a life of crime in the first place. you could finally be secure, be free.

but you couldn’t be secure. you couldn’t feel safe. not when dazai still haunted you.

the relationship, if you could call it that, was a strange one. you would text every day, but wouldn’t dare to press the call button because you knew you’d burst into flames upon hearing his voice again. that didn’t cancel out the temptation, however. texts were sometimes short and vague, and other times profound declarations of life and love. you read those every single day.

did dazai find his reason living? did he still love you? does he know you still love him and its driving you insane?

you never figured that out. but a tiny part of you holds onto that. not the love, but the hope that love is there. maybe you’d feel those lips again. maybe you’d feel his bandaged heart again. maybe. 

osamu: goodnight [y/n]

10:07 pm