Falling In Reverse (Dazai Osamu X Reader)

Falling in Reverse (Dazai Osamu x Reader)

There were many hazards with working for the Armed Detective Agency.

The hours were sometimes unpredictable, the possibility of being kidnapped or attacked by enemy organisations or just people who had a grudge against random members, was always a very real threat.  More than once you’ve been forced into some kind of underground bunker or secret location for a few days for your own safety. Plus, Kunikida's incessant shouting had made you start keeping painkillers stashed in your desk as a failsafe. But the real problem was... "Hello, everyone!" ...was him. Your eyes flicked up as Dazai Osamu came waltzing into the room, brown eyes shining. No doubt he'd just found out a thrilling new method of suicide he wanted to try out, or perhaps he'd found somewhere that sold crab meat on the cheap.

You quickly dropped your gaze as he passed your desk, greeting the others with a carefree smile and a wave you didn't buy for a moment. You continued typing busily, sucking on your bottom lip in thought. And there it was. Try as you might to ignore it, to dedicate your time and energy to your work and think about other, more productive things, the feelings would not - refused - to go away. All you could do was trap them and keep them in a box in the back of your head, tucked away and out of sight. Yet your heart still seemed to speed up whenever Dazai was within ten feet of you, like a dog wagging its tail with its owner nearby. And therein lay the problem - having a crush or whatever you called it on Dazai Osamu was nothing but a fool's errand. Suicidal former Port Mafia members were not good material for a relationship. Even a fling might be asking too much. Not to mention, Dazai was a serial flirt who couldn't stop himself from outrageously hitting on every pretty waitress or barista that he came across, he spent most of his time at work fucking with Kunikida and/or Atsushi, he never paid his damn tab and overall was an unpredictable mess of a person. Was he handsome? Of course - he made other men look shabbier merely by existing in the same room as them. Frighteningly perceptive and intelligent when he stopped acting like a crackhead? Undoubtedly. But it was far better to stay away from someone like him as much as possible. After all, a fire might be beautiful, but in order to survive, you learn to get as far away from them as you can.

Fortunately for you, even though you worked in the same building as him, Dazai rarely noticed you, much less held conversations with you in which you might blurt out anything embarrassing. He may have been an incredibly observant person, but he had his eyes on the important issues like whatever the Port Mafia were getting up to or trying to outmaneuver the Guild or dangerous Russian criminals. The possible infatuation of an insignificant secretary who happened to have a desk not far away from him no doubt barely registered in Dazai's busy mind, and you intended to keep it that way. To help maintain your cover, you made sure to treat Dazai with chilly politeness, as if you found him and his antics to be unprofessional and completely inappropriate. The fact that they were wasn't the point. More than once you’d had to sneak away into the ladies to giggle madly at whatever stunt Dazai had pulled on one of his hapless co-workers, then take the time to compose yourself before stepping back out again.

And you certainly didn't secretly resent him a little - for effortlessly making you fall for him without even trying. And leaving you knowing you were doomed to quietly pine over him and nothing more, because Dazai was a disaster, but he was still undeniably special. Like a human comet, dragging everybody else in his wake. He made you painfully aware of how unexceptional you were. I'm not pining. you corrected yourself, stapling together a stack of documents for Fukuzawa with perhaps a little bit too much force, the clicking sound loud in your ears. It's just a dumbass crush. Everyone fancies Dazai when they meet him for the first time, but they get over it. It's a rite of passage. Anyway, you had something else to distract you. Tonight, you were actually venturing out of your apartment instead of curling up in front of the TV - on a blind date. It hadn't been your idea, a friend told you there was some event going on at Kafka's tonight, a bar downtown you knew fairly well and somebody she thought you’d like would be there, so you thought: Why not?

It's not like you had anything better to do. Anyway, maybe if you met someone new, you'd finally be able to shake off whatever feelings you had and redirect them to someone less...messy. The only problem was, it started right after your shift ended, so you'd have to get changed and do your makeup here at the Agency to save time. "Damn!" The stapler you'd been holding slipped from your grip and you hastened to pick it up off the floor. You'd had a manicure the other day in preparation for tonight and you were still getting used to them. "Are you okay?" Kirako asked you, tilting her head, her expression one of mild concern. "You've seemed a little...high-strung today." “Highly strung,” you corrected absently, retrieving the stapler and straightening up. “And I am not, I’m not a horse. I’m just nervous.” “Huh? Oh yeah! You’re gong on that thing tonight, right?” “Right,” you said, partly wishing she’d shut up – you didn’t want people listening and asking you nosy questions. Unfortunately for you, Kirako was not telepathic and kept happily chattering away. “Have you decided what you’re going to wear? It’s important to make a good impression at these things!” “I’ve got an outfit with me,” you reluctantly admitted, since she’d probably figure it out anyway. “It’s easier than going all the way home to change.” “Ooh, show me!” Kirako said – somehow, she seemed far more excited about this than you were. Probably because she didn’t have to worry about what she’d do if the night turned out to be a complete bust or worse. “Absolutely not.” You replied – far from her enthusiasm being infectious, she was making you uneasy, hyping the night up into something far bigger than you’d intended. Fortunately for you, any further conversation was cut short by the arrival of the boss. As Fukuzawa strode in you both stood up to bow. Personally, you’d never been so pleased to see him. He just gave a regal nod to you both before approaching Kunikida and the others, no doubt about to deliver some new job to them. You let go of a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding – you could go back to being invisible. Invisibility was safe.

Kirako picked up some conversation she’d been having with Naomi about her cat and you made the right noises as she showed you some admittedly adorable pictures on her phone. And yes, you did check a couple of times, surreptitiously peeking from behind your monitor. Dazai didn’t look at you once. ~ “Fuck’s…sake!” You grunted as you battled with the stubborn zipper between your fingertips. You were sure you’d been wrestling with this damn dress forever and you didn’t have time for this – you’d go from ‘fashionably late’ to ‘why bother’ if this kept up- Finally! The zipper, which had been stubbornly refusing to cooperate with you for what had to have been at least ten minutes finally gave in to your relentless pulling and closed, tooth by sullen tooth. You might have asked Kirako or someone to help you, but they’d all left, so you were on your own.

You breathed a sigh of relief – you might have to limit what you ate for fear of the zipper bursting, but this dress had to be tight to stay up, so you had to make sacrifices where necessary. You turned and looked in the full-length mirror affixed to the wall. Wow. You didn’t think of yourself as a vain person, but as you turned around to make sure your outfit was all in place, you had to admit you looked good. Red was a pretty bold colour and the style wasn’t something you wore on a day-to-day basis, but you’re glad you went with it. The light seeping through the bathroom window bounced off the shiny material of the dress and you smiled to yourself as you added a final touch – a slick of lipgloss. You should commit to the idea of stepping outside your comfort zone and wearing an outfit like this seemed a good way to do that.

You pushed open the door and stepped out into the office, which looked weird without anybody in it, awash with a peachy-orange glow from the sunset outside. As you turned to leave, though, you quickly learned that you weren’t as alone as you’d first thought. “Oh,” came a voice. The last one you wanted to hear right now. (Yet the one you heard in your dreams, over and over again like a broken record.) Dazai stood there, staring at you and you’ve never seen that look on his face before. He wasn’t grinning or teasing but nor had he slipped into that chilly, calculating look that was known to a few people throughout the Agency as his “Port Mafia face”. Instead, he was simply looking at you with an unguarded look of surprise, his mouth slightly open like he had been about to speak but forgotten what he was about to say. He snapped out of it a moment later, hastily slapping on one of his signature flirty smirks the way other people would throw on a jacket.

“Well, well.” Dazai said and you hated the vaguely sultry hint to his tone, you hated it because you knew it wasn’t real. “Don’t you look lovely.” You swallowed. Dazai threw compliments at women all the time, but you’re pretty sure he meant it – no doubt he’d never seen you dressed this way before. From someone else’s lips, such a comment might range from sweet to creepy, but when Dazai said it, your bones felt like they were turning to water. “Well,” you echoed him, a beat too late, and despite your confidence a few minutes ago, getting the words out proved difficult, your cadence halting and awkward. “Thank you.” The urge to run away burned in your chest, like you had a cough waiting to come out, but the way he was looking at you…it was hard to pull yourself away. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest, and you had a peculiar urge to reach for him. To do what, you didn’t know. Rest a hand on his chest? Touch his face? Pull him closer? You tucked the hand behind you, in case it got any ideas of its own. “Got a hot date tonight?” Dazai said in a teasing voice, but there was something else in it that gave you pause, like a shard of ice in a refreshing drink. It made you wary, and you were glad of it – it wasn’t a good idea to get too comfortable around him, even under the guise of friendly banter. Obviously he’d reached that assumption from what you’re wearing and the hour it was, since you didn’t usually hang around the office for this long, but you can’t shake the notion that Dazai doesn’t approve of the idea. Too bad for him, you’re not asking permission. “Just a thing with a friend of mine,” you replied, which wasn’t really a lie, just vague enough to skirt the truth and you offered a breezy smile to placate him. “It should be fun. I’d better go, though. I’m already running a bit late.” Hitching your bag a little higher up your shoulder, you dodged around Dazai, who made no effort to stop you and headed out into the city that was preparing for the evening, your heels clicking satisfyingly across the floor. (Another thing you didn’t wear regularly, but hey, why not go all out?)

Dazai, unusually still, watched you go, his hands sliding into the pockets of his trench coat. He spoke thoughtfully into the empty air, dust motes dancing in the shaft of light pouring in through the window. “A friend, huh…” he mused, and his eyes held a look in them, the slight darkening of his gaze as he looked ahead at something only he could see, his sharp mind already racing far ahead to all sorts of potential scenarios to be countered, if necessary. “I have a bad feeling about this.”