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milky-aeons · 3 months

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𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑-𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇

౨ৎ . . . following a mission that could have gone perilously wrong, you decided you have had just about enough of DAZAI OSAMU and his manipulative tactics.

warnings: criminal themes, sexual content, arguments, unprofessionalism, swearing, manipulation, emotional dysregulation, pet-names, slight toxic!dazai, power-play, love-biting, female reader, mentions of sociopathy, mdni, w.c 6.2k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ bloody valentine — machine gun kelly ꒱ ˎˊ-

𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 between you two during the walk back to his agency apartment. Mainly, because you made it your mission to walk at least ten steps ahead of him, stubbornly keeping your eyes fixed forward and hands balled. You couldn't believe him, but the thing was, it was so typical of a man like him that you cursed yourself for being so surprised.

What did you expect? Dazai Osamu was a high-functioning sociopath who didn't take human empathy into consideration when making decisions. There was a brief moment where you tried to make an excuse for him — to give him the benefit of the doubt, even though you knew Dazai only made a decision when certain that he was ten steps ahead.

If you made the different choice during the mission today to stop the train, those people would have lived. He did not gamble dozens of human lives on a split-second decision you would have to make.

He did not lie to you about the severity, the stakes at play.

He did not wager human lives like they were mere toy-things, variables in his grand scheme that always worked out so perfectly.

Only that, he did. He absolutely did.

You were sure to slam the door in his face when you reached the apartment before him to show how angry this had made you. No, anger wasn't the word. It was too shallow and weak. The emotion making your chest physically heavy was akin to devastation. A brother so close to betrayal. You were pacing his sitting room with your hands buried deep in your hair when he came in and closed the door softly.

Scream, strangle him, do something, you pleaded with yourself. But everything was racing and your heartrate was speeding just as fast with emotion, so all you could do was continue pacing and breathing, attempting to keep it from crashing down on you.

You could have let them all die.

How was he so sure you would stop the train?

How could he make a gamble like that, only to hinge it all on you?

"Will you allow me to explain?" His voice cut the tense air from far away. It was like the key pulled from a grenade, enough to make you wrench your hands from your hair and pin him down with a sharp look.

"I should." You hissed. "I should demand an explanation from you and nothing short from it. But the thing is, Dazai — I don't know if I can trust anything coming from your mouth right now."

He didn't like that. There was a dark storm in his eyes. Those intelligent, cold and calculating eyes. You wanted to gouge them from his pretty face.

"Perhaps, it would be better for you to calm down first—"

"Calm down? You've been lying to me this entire time and you have the audacity—!"

"I was not lying."

Shock slapped you hard against your face. You openly balked. "Are you seriously lying to me now, of all times, too?"

Calmly, as if you were the only one having a heated argument, his eyes slipped closed and he sighed.

Sighed.

"It is true that the mission today held a certain level of danger, and that the heart of the plan ultimately teetered on what choice you would make." He spoke quickly before you could combust in emotion at that blatant declaration. "But I don't believe I have ever told you that it did not."

"No. You withheld that it was." There was a sneer to your lips. The words you spoke with were a caustic brew as you began to stalk to him.

"That's the thing with you," Both your hands came up to the side of your face in a squeezing, frustrated gesture. Like you could curl your fists and punch him and his impassive stare. "You keep things from people. It's like you figure everything out and get joy from watching everyone else struggle to do so. The information you keep is how you're so indestructible — to the Agents, the Higher Brass, the Police Force, the fucking Port Mafia, Dazai. It's because you leverage information they don't think you know in times where it benefits you!"

A pause as he stared right at you and didn't even flinch. You wanted to shake him. You wanted to scream.

"Is that what you wanted to do to me?" Such a careful question you asked in a shaky, barely controlled whisper. "Have this information over my head until it benefited you? So you could just use me as some—some sort of—!"

The question was a snap that made him move. Walking forward, devouring the distance with his long legs. Startled, you took a few steps back, but you didn't back down.

"[Name]-chan — Bella," He said evenly. You hated that nickname. You hated how controlling he sounded when you were about to lose it. "Listen to me."

"Don't you dare order me around right now."

His hands lashed out until they gripped the sides of your face. He was forcing your eyes forward, the touch not overly painful but enough to make you snarl at him.

"If you would just—"

Your hands came up and you slapped his from your cheeks. The echo of skin was treacherous to a conversation taking a devastating turn.

"I don't think you understand." You said in a tight, shaky voice. Hysteria was moments away from gripping your heart. "You wagered lives and the safety of others like they were inanimate things—"

"Risks are probable with all calculations, [Name]-chan—"

"But you still lied!" The talent he had for reasoning his way to justice even when he was sorely in the wrong was making heat claw at your face. A searing one of frustration and anger. "You lied to me this whole time and made me believe in you. I could trust you with my life Dazai, and now I find out you've been lying to me about something as important as this!"

Dazai subdued to silence, but never once did he look away from you. Arresting you with his intense stare, like he was figuring out just what words he could say to calm you right down. But you wouldn't let him. For once, you wouldn't be on the receiving end of his manipulation when he was putting all his effort into it.

But what he said next was so unexpected it knocked all the wind out of you.

"I suppose, if we are discussing with-holding things from each other to keep the other safe," It was a smooth murmur as he cast his eyes to the side. "I don't believe you are entirely innocent in that regard either, [Name]-chan."

Your mouth threatened to fall open. He knows. Even though the phone right now is in a cabinet in the bathroom, off and untouched, he knows about the blackmailing texts you have been receiving about him. Knowing you were a co-worker of his, these crooks from the underground threatened his very life lest you co-operated to give him up. Not that you ever would. But you had also declined to tell him about it, taking the issue on yourself, intent to shield you co-worker from harm above all else.

You didn't even have to ask him how, or what he knew. He was Dazai freaking Osamu who leveraged information in times where it benefited him.

One tight swallow and you raised a hand to point at him. "I didn't gamble with lives."

"Yet you gambled with your own~" He shut you down. "Your safety, your wellbeing, all because you believed holding the information to yourself would keep me safe."

Instead of being caught red handed and admitting to it, you felt your lips crack into a grin. Your tongue poked at your cheek and you began nodding your head.

"Alright," Spoken like you were engaged in a battle with him. One of wits and emotions and secrets. "You want to play this game? Share things we keep to ourselves to quote on quote benefit each other? Then explain to me why I also met a lady today who you slept with last week. A damn lawyer on one of our cases, Dazai!"

It made the air drop in temperature, the turn this blow-out was taking. Dazai leaned back and put his hands in his pockets, breathing in a way that told you he knew this conversation was coming. You were not in a relationship, had never been intimate with the brown-haired detective before you, yet would be lying to yourself if you said your feelings for him weren't driving you absolutely fucking insane.

"Truly? What was her name, remind me?"

"Oh, you fucking asshole."

"Such vulgarity, [Name]-chan! Now I'm sure she'd never speak like that~!"

That was a low blow. You wondered if he was trying to hurt you. So you did it right back. Without stopping to think of its consequences.

"So we're deciding to say fuck it to professionalism, then? Fine. I kissed Kunikida-kun."

If atoms could physically freeze in the air, they would have in that moment as Dazai suddenly went still. Statue-still, and you knew you shouldn't have said it when you did. Caught up in a moment where you two butted heads, each of you were getting nowhere with this conversation. But the damage had been done. Slowly, almost perilously, he craned his neck to the side and locked you in place with that stare. The one he had crafted when Mafia-black blood ran hot and thick in his veins. One eyebrow arched.

"Oh?"

Suddenly, you began fearing for your friend's stability in his job. Because who knows what a pissed off Dazai Osamu could do when he was angry. And you knew he was becoming agitated because he looked like he wasn't. Concealing anything with that mask he threw up to deceive everyone but you, who could read how the storm in his eyes took a violent, turbulent turn.

"But why should you care?" You spat at him. "You slept with our client just fine, so what if I kissed someone else on the case? Newsflash, Dazai, but we're not in a relationship and we never fucking will be."

Dazai was eating up the distance between the both of you until your chests barely touched. You were breathing heavy, felt tears threaten to fall down your cheeks. Through it all you noticed that his breaths were shallow and a little quicker, like he was keeping his emotions under check with everything he had in him.

"Stubborn woman." He breathed. "Why don't you see reason?"

You looked into his eyes with as much strength, as much sincerity as you could after an exhausting shouting match with him. Into their bottomless depths. Seas of chocolate and whiskey and so, so guarded. You wanted to reach into his soul and tear his guards down. Make him see your reason.

"Don't lie to me." You shook your head slowly without breaking eye-contact. One single, fat tear rolled down your right cheek against your will. "And I won't have to dig past all of them to find the reason, dammit."

"I told you," He urged in a softer tone. Reaching up, he brushed the tear that he caused against your cheek with a tender touch. Pull away, you said, but hadn't the strength to. "Everything I do or said was to help you along your path, [Name]-chan. I knew, out of all of the agents, that I could rely on you the most."

Is he lying right now? How could you know?

"Why do you have to go about everything in such a round about way?" You asked quietly.

Dazai's hand was hovering in front of where he wiped your cheek. Perhaps he didn't want to touch you as you gave the impression that you didn't want to be touched right now.

Perhaps you're both as bad as each other, sacrificing parts of yourselves and keeping secrets because you thought it'd be for the better.

"What are you looking for?" Dazai asked when you continued to study him.

You shrugged. "An answer."

"To?"

Tears glistened on your lashes as you looked down. Crushed crystals that glittered when you found words. "To why, even after you're such a big pain in my ass to deal with," You took a sharp inhale. "I still can't see myself anywhere but at your side."

He saw an opening to exploit in order to get you to forgive him, probably. That, or you had given him a confirmation he had been seeking right after you told him why would you care if I kiss another man? Because one searching flicker of his eyes across your face and he suddenly swooped in.

At first, you were unwilling to take his kiss — was about to pull away, because he was wrong to think he could manipulate you physically if he couldn't mentally.

"Forgive me," He whispered against your lips softly. "I didn't think keeping it from you could affect you this deeply."

Next, you watched as he tilted his head against yours to touch your foreheads. Maybe it was Dazai's way of showing emotions he had trouble displaying like most humans did. Instead, he attempted to connect your mind with his — that wicked mind that was capable of things humans believed impossible. "I will admit that emotional impact on others is not dominant when I make decisions for a grander picture."

You didn't pull away. At the very least, he was trying to show you an emotional side of him. Remorse, God help him. You could see it in the way he formulated a riddle for you to solve, didn't show any feeling on his face but did something as intimate as tipping your forehead to his and brushing his lips against yours.

Dazai Osamu had the tendencies to do things just because he knew, logically, it was the best thing to do. He promised to keep those people safe on the mission today, you locked eyes with him, and he had done that. Although not in the way he made you believe he would.

"Good." You whispered. "As long as you're aware of how much of a problem you can be."

His chuckle was low and shallow. Dark in a way that told you a lustful side of him was stirring at the proximity of you both, but the sound was a little warmer. Shared between two people attempting to build a steady connection with each other when both their lives had, at some point, been hit with chaos.

And maybe that was why you let him kiss you again. It wasn't an admission of defeat, it wasn't your way of saying you forgave him. But you could accept the fact that you had made the Dazai Osamu find fault in his sociopathic reasonings. He had went as far as to administer an apology, in his own way, and didn't lie to you when you asked him not to. That and the bastard already had his place in your heart. Kissing you with a tenderness and care not typical to him was bound to have you swaying, wanting to believe he was being serious, sincere.

"Don't lie to me again," You said when he pulled away. "Promise me you won't."

"Hmm?" He brought his lips to kiss your cheek. "I don't have a good record with keeping promises."

"Then give me your word."

Give me your word. It brought you both back to when you first met in a shadowed alleyway bar — when he had sought you out for that interesting Ability of yours. Months upon months ago that felt like an aeon. He had told you that his word was something he never broke. And he knew what you were asking, because his whiskey eyes that swam with speckles of stars underneath his pale spotlights flickered to yours.

"Is my word held at such high value?"

"It's how you managed to sway me in that shitty bar to join your group of misfits."

Another hum against your skin. He attempted to attack your neck, probably because he knew that was the area in which you fawned the most.

"Dazai." You warned, and he drew back. "Give me your word that you won't lie to me again." It was nothing short of a final order.

He eyed you for a second. And surprisingly, "You have my word."

It was the finalisation of his apology. Or, the very best you were going to get. In some way, it was also your admission to allow him to kiss you again, as if a reward for being reasonable with you. And he took up his reward by claiming your lips in a kiss that was longer than the last. It was hot and in some way raw, breathing through his nose and slanting his mouth against your own in a lip-lock you were a little overwhelmed by.

His hand came up and dug into your soft hair to cradle your head as he teased your lower lip between his teeth. Unwittingly, you sighed into his mouth and pushed against him. Melding your curves with his lean build and grasping at anything you could ball your hands into. Be it his shirt, his shoulders, sighing deeper each time. A tongue licked at your lips, his hands were locked on your hips with a searing message, everything he was doing right now was oddly rushed and coming at you all at once. As if to prove something. To translate a message.

"Tell me," He rasped in a throaty voice. "When was it that you shared such an intimacy with Kunikida-kun~?"

Oh, you should have known. But instead, you contested him. Your hands came up to bury into his deep hair and you played his own game.

"How about," Your lips attacked his face, barely getting any words in as you attempted to prove your own point. "You tell me when you decided sleeping with some random lawyer was a good idea?"

Both of you began breathing a little shallower, a little more urgent with need. Perhaps the need was on your part mostly, but there was an uncoordinated jerkiness to the way Dazai began tugging at his coat sleeves. As if he was slipping out of control. You were helping with your own messy movements to push off his coat when he asked a lawyer? with a tremor of amusement.

"That woman. The one last week. On our case." Smooth warmth underneath his shirt when your palms glided down his shoulders. Why were you both so hot?

"Ah," He helped you shrug his jacket to the ground. It fell with a heavy sound. "She was a lawyer, wasn't she~?"

"Sophisticated, beautiful, the whole package. You just couldn't resist, could you?"

Dazai, when free of his coat, reached up to gently undo your blouse. One button at a time, and you allowed him to. Your chest heaving, his fingers warm.

"Well," His eyes were locked on the skin you've never shown him as it became increasingly visible the more buttons he popped. Leaning in with hooded eyes, his voice was a dark and sinful whisper against your skin. "If you must know," A searing kiss to your temple. "I didn't think she was that sophisticated. But she was beautiful," Your cheek. "Beautiful, because she reminded me of you."

Your heart, which was busy slamming against your ribcage, stuttered for a second. Dazai was teasing your face with his mouth and almost done your blouse when he sent pleasure shooting down to your core with mere words;

"And I, poor little I, finished before her. Because in my head, it wasn't her that I was fucking underneath me."

And then he kissed you. Hard and messy and unlike his calculating nature. Using his tongue to lick at your teeth and send you moaning into his mouth, there was a passion in the way he intensified the kiss. Your blouse was open now, and you couldn't help the subconscious aged fear that was always there due to insecurity when he splayed his fingers on your abdomen. As if sensing your apprehension, he didn't look down, kept kissing you with such a wild fever that was driving you near senseless.

You felt his palms scrape your sensitive skin on your torso with coarse bandages. An almost welcome feeling unique to him alone. They lightly tickled your skin, eliciting a shiver, a reminder that this was real. That you were ravaging Dazai Osamu in the heat of a moment that was so intense you thought you would burn.

Your breathing hitched when his hands smoothened across your sensitive ribs to palm your breasts through your bra. Your skin was tight with anticipation, pulled taut over your body that he massaged — making you arch into him. A moan, startled and raw, ripped from your throat. He chuckled, increasing the pressure of his rough palms over your skin, pleased he was the one making you feel this way and no one else.

You decided to give him the peace of mind he wanted.

"He kissed me," You told him when both of you broke for air. "Kunikida— before our Christmas Party. He kissed me, beforehand."

"My, my. Such a passionate Idealist." Dazai commented with an edge to his voice.

"Would you like to know what I thought of when he did?"

His palms were inching around to the small of your back. "Do tell." Was all he said. Slowly, dark as the colour of his dilated eyes.

"You."

Pull, he hauled you against him when you let the word fall from your mouth.

Skin on the fabric of his shirt, your skirt the only thing between you and the obvious readiness of him that was an unbearable pressure between your legs. It was a point where words were not needed anymore. Instead, you kissed him with as much neediness you convinced yourself he showed you — your fingers fluttering against his waistcoat to get the infernal thing off. Because right now there was a wild, strange thing so powerful it must have been held back for too long fluttering in your chest. It wanted nothing more than to feel him, see what he hid under his clothes, bite at his skin until no other woman touched him.

He helped you, with a laugh of course, until you were now making clumsy work of his shirt. Clumsy, because he was placing provocative open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive column of your neck and threatening you to your very knees.

You shrugged his shirt off his shoulders after a second and took a step back to look at him. Truthfully, you didn't exactly know what it was that you were expecting to find under all his clothes, or to what extent his bandages ran. Although you weren't very surprised to find that his abdomen and chest had a layer of bandages just like his neck and arms, but sparser and less covered up. It allowed the pale skin of his chest to catch your eyes, and his own scars that snaked between cloth that didn't cover them.

Scars.

One careful, hesitant step forward with your eyes locked on skin you've never seen before, and you reached out. First you trailed a curious finger against the lithe muscle of his stomach that flexed at your touch. Then, you placed your entire palm flat against his warm skin and glided it up to his chest. It was rising and falling quickly when you did, shallow breaths of anticipation that quite matched your own.

His eyes were a blaze of molten coffee when you looked up at him.

"Are you a tempting siren?" He asked you. Your colleague who could drown you, but at that point, all you could think about was the heat punching you from his body and the desperate ache between your legs.

So for once in your life, you decided that a risky answer was better than overthinking. Your tongue jutted out to your bottom lip and you answered him honestly.

"If we were still in that bar," You said in a small, wanton croak. "And you asked me again if I should come home with you. I'd say — yes."

Dazai went for you.

He was kissing you the moment you gave him the permission he was searching for. You felt his fingers skating up the side of your legs and under your skirt until he teased one god-awful touch against the damp fabric of your underwear. A jolt of pleasure exploded through you and you reached behind to get the skirt off, desperate for more. Fabric fell to the floor with a heavy thud and you bore down onto his fingers with no shame, no resolve except to give into him and all his sinful talents. Hooking your leg up and around his waist as he worked his touch up and down, hiking your pleasure to high points only he could find.

You hummed and kissed him deeply, encouraging and urgent. If anything, your responses were fuelling that male ego he had about him. Every time your moans became that bit higher, he'd have the spot that did such a thing to you memorised, and he's hit it again. And again, and again, until you were rocking into the palm of his hand through your soaked underwear and whispering his name like a lost prayer.

Fuck—Fuck, he was too good at this. He was—!

He curled his fingers just right and you swore.

The winding in your gut snapped in an intense wave of climaxing pleasure so sudden it caught you unawares. You moaned a sound that could have been a scream, it was so overwhelming. All your sighs and shouts were lost in his mouth, and to show your gratitude, you kept tugging and scraping at his hair. Perhaps it unfurled the last seams of his control; your moans, your scent and your tugging you would fantasize he liked. Because he hooked your other leg up and around his waist with no warnings until he held you up against his body.

"You'll drop me, you idiot." You giggled deliriously. Dazai was walking you to the nearest upstanding object to trap you against. In this case, it was his bookshelf.

"I'd never drop you, beautiful Bella~"

You lapped at the skin of his neck, just below his ear. Possessed by some intense, primal part of you, your teeth sank into his neck and you sucked just enough to leave a bruise. The bookshelf rattled when Dazai locked you against it, and you could feel how he ground his jaw in rigid control when you marked him in such a possessive way. No woman, clearly, had ever placed intimate bruises on his body, and you were happy to be the first. That and, your teasing and tasting only looked to charge Dazai more with that same insatiable need to take you here and now.

Without any questions asked but a mutual understanding hanging in the charged air that this was well overdue, he reached down to remove his own pants. When he did, he repositioned himself so he could angle you better with his body.

His head bowed in front of your black bra decorated with notes of lace and he bit down on one of your stiff nipples through the fabric. The shock and pain that quickly raced into pleasure soured through your blood, making you wrap your hands around his head and push your chest against his face proactively. He kept toying with your nipple between his teeth through the black fabric, truly a man who knew all the pressure points to drive a woman wild.

It was through delirious pleasure, but you were at an angle where you could shift your hips to press on the rigid outline of his length with your damp, aching core. Dazai's lips stilled on your chest when you rubbed your heat against him; a provocative tease up and down that had you receiving a punishing nip on your clavicle. A bruise of his own, you'd find out, but not in that moment. Not when you gave one final roll of your hips against his and your colleague's unfurling control wore too thin.

His hands came down to pull your underwear off you while he still kept you pinned up against a bookshelf. Through it all, he never let his bottomless gaze falter from our face. Not once. Not even when he had to free himself from his last piece of clothing and take measures of protection. The way he looked at you, like a treat he'd been saving for a very long time, was enough to have another knot of pleasure coiling in your gut.

"Are you ready?" He asked you.

You nodded. "For a while."

"Such a tease~"

And then, with his warm hands on your hips did he guide himself into your entrance. It was slow at first, tasting you almost, but the moment he edged the tip of himself into your damp, twitching heat did he snap his last thread of self control and thrust long and deep. You cried out in ecstasy, and he dropped his head into your shoulder with a broken sound of overdue pleasure, bracing a hand on the shelf behind.

You breathed out shakily, running your hands through his wild hair to communicate that you were comfortable for him to move.

He drew out, and slammed right back into you — the depth of him this time making little white stars appear at the sides of your vision. There was no patience, no savouring on Dazai's part as he kept a heavy rhythm of thrusting into you until the bookshelf was rattling with your movements, some falling to the ground. He was devouring you, taking from you a pleasure he'd denied himself for so long because you were unwilling to give it to him.

And you regretted not doing it sooner. Because the way he felt sliding in and out of you, the way you connected that felt so unfathomably perfect—

"Could anyone else do this for you?" His voice was heavy with panting in your ear. You were too high to scold him on the blatant controlling way he said the words; "Hm? Could any other person," A particularly heavy push of his hips into you that made your mouth fall open silently. "Make you feel this way?"

Caught in your daze, you shook your head. It was the truth, of course. But you also didn't lose all of your wit.

You locked your ankles together at the dip of his back and took his face in both hands. "Could your lawyer make you… act so… wild?"

"Wild? Me?" His voice broke in a thick laugh as his thrusting became sharper and faster. Your back kept hitting the shelves behind with every one, but your hands stayed against his cheeks so as you could see him in the height of pleasure you caused. That beautiful face of his sheaning a little with exertion smirked. "I'm not wild for anyone, [Name]-chan."

"Then fucking put me down." You teased with a dazed smile of your own.

"Not a chance~"

His smooth, deep thrusts became slightly more jerky when you were just about to topple over the edge — but you wanted to take him with you, so you resisted for as much as you could. His mouth bit down against the side of your neck and he gave one, two, three long rocks of his hips before he was groaning agonisingly deep against your skin.

The very sound was enough. Your walls clenched around him and you too, hit a climax like no other. One that made you feel like a star — imploding in such a dazzling light show as you fisted at his hair and arched your body backwards. Or a mirror, magnificent in its beauty that he cracked into a trillion tiny pieces. Each fragment reflecting how you held onto him and cried his name out loud and desperately, like the world was ending and he was your very last salvation.