I Say Things Sometimes - Tumblr Posts
"He inserts himself, does a little jiggle and leaves."
-Me, an asexual, describing my attempts at writing smut.
“ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 . ”
character : dazai osamu
context : you’re an agent going undercover, you encounter port mafia executive dazai. he finds you interesting. yeah..
authors note : you should listen to the diner by Billie ellish to get the vibe to it.
warning : stalker briefly mentioned, stalker!dazai, can be interpreted romantically or whatever, shout out to my bbg @riiwrites 😼☝🏽, murder and blood mentioned too, gender not mentioned, literally we rock with they/them 💋‼️.. uhm I think that’s all gays yeah..
,, 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓. 𝜚
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐘 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒, the last remnants of daylight clinging stubbornly to the horizon. It was a view [name] had come to appreciate, standing on the balcony of the modest clinic where [name] built their cover. As a doctor specialising in human behaviour, their role was simple enough—listen, observe, and blend in. Standing there in viewing the people going about their days, [name] ran their fingers along the balcony’s iron railing, feeling the coolness of the metal beneath their skin. In this quiet neighbourhood, [name] was simply known as Dr. [name]—a doctor who listened to the woes of the weary, a person who could help people understand the storms in their minds. In some ways, [name] had taken to the role more naturally than they expected. It wasn’t far from what I had trained for, after all. But beneath that calm exterior, my real purpose was far more pressing.
The wind picked up slightly, rustling the papers on my desk inside the small office. I stepped back inside, closing the door behind me as I glanced at the scattered reports and profiles I’d been reviewing. Every interaction I had here was a potential lead—every patient, every conversation was a thread that might lead me to the missing documents. I was hunting for the whispers in the crowd, the signs that something was about to crack.
I sat down and opened one of the files again. A name stared back at me—Takeda Masaru, a local journalist with a reputation for being nosey. He had been in to see me twice, under the guise of seeking help for stress and insomnia. But I knew better. Knocking me out of my train of thought, my smartwatch started vibrating. It was morse code.
‘GOOD EVENING AGENT [NAME], IT'S NICE TO YOU ALIVE AND WELL.WE HAVE NEW INTEL. THERE'S BEEN SIGHTING AT THE LOADING. THE DOCUMENTS SHOULD BE THERE. IT SHOULD BE A DARK RED CARGO BOX WITH THE NAME ‘MELLUVS ART AND WRITING SUPPLIES’ . QUICKLY GET THERE BEFORE ANYBODY INTERVENES. BEST OF LUCK TO YOU.’
I quickly changed my clothing still keeping my pants and shoes and swapping my glasses with sunglasses, my shirt with a business shirt. Taking my coat off the rack I jumped off of the railing onto the pavement. The cold air hitting my face, I felt that familiar rush of adrenaline. The peaceful exterior I’d adopted as a doctor was peeling away, revealing the true purpose behind the mask.
I arrived at the loading dock slipping past guards. While remaining on my toes, looking around, finding the maroon cargo box, picking the lock, catching it before it could fall can make noise. Opening the door and sorting through papers. I found the papers of the document, putting the papers in my doctors folder, I turned to step out just to be greeted with…
"Are you lost?" a voice rang out behind them.
“I’m sorry?” You turned towards the stranger with a simple smile.
“I said, are you lost? Dr. [name].” He repeated.
Standing in the shadow of a weathered chimney was a young man, barely older than them, with an unsettlingly casual grin. His black hair fell messily over his eyes, his posture loose and unthreatening, but I knew better than to trust appearances. There was something sharp beneath that smile.
“Ah. No I’m not..”
"Dazai Osamu," the man introduced himself, stepping closer without a care in the world. "What a coincidence, meeting you here."
"Coincidence?" [name]’s voice was flat, unamused. "I don’t believe in coincidences."
Dazai’s grin widened. "Smart. I don’t either."
This wasn’t good. My mission had suddenly become complicated—this was Dazai, a notorious figure in the Port Mafia, rumoured to be both brilliant and dangerous. Getting caught up with him was exactly what their agency warned them about. But retreating now would be even worse. They couldn't afford to show any weakness.
"You’re in my way," I stated plainly, their eyes locked onto him. Dazai’s expression flickered briefly with interest.
"Am I?" he mused, not moving an inch. Instead, his eyes gleamed with curiosity. "I wonder what someone like you is doing up here. You don’t seem like the usual riffraff the mafia deals with. You're different."
I said nothing. They were trained to maintain a poker face, but they could feel Dazai’s gaze piercing through them, searching for cracks.
After a tense silence, I decided it was better to end this encounter quickly. "I have no business with you. Walk away."
Dazai’s grin softened into something almost playful. "I could say the same. But I don’t feel like walking away just yet. You intrigue me."
Before you could respond, a shout echoed from the alley below—footsteps, too many of them. The mission wasn’t over yet. With a sharp glance at Dazai, [name] moved quickly, shoving him out the way with the documents I hand, disappearing into the shadows of the cargo port.
𓎢𓎟𓎟𓎟 . ♡ . 𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎢
The mission was complete, the documents recovered, and the city’s fragile calm preserved. Days passed, and YN pushed the encounter with Dazai to the back of their mind. They believed they had left him behind in that port, a fleeting figure from a fleeting night.
But they were wrong.
It began with small sightings—first at a diner near one of their agency’s hideouts, a quaint place where [name] often went to clear their mind. They walked in for a quiet moment, only to find Dazai, seated by the window, sipping his coffee as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His eyes met theirs, and that familiar grin spread across his face.
The next time, it was at their ‘job’. [name] worked as a hired security operative for a private military company, and the sight of Dazai loitering near the building was more than unsettling. He didn’t approach them, but his presence was a constant reminder that he was watching.
The evening air felt heavy as [name] returned home from a long shift, exhaustion pulling at their every step. They hadn’t noticed the lingering presence outside, the demon in the shadows, waiting. The lock clicked into place behind them as they shut the door, and for a moment, they stood still, listening. No footsteps followed. The silence was almost comforting.
They kicked off their shoes, fingers absently unbuttoning their dress shirt, craving nothing more than the solace of the couch. As they sank into it, something caught their eye—an envelope, placed conspicuously on the coffee table. A surge of unease rippled through their tired mind, heart beginning to race as they reached for the envelope, fingers brushing the edge of the paper with caution. Slowly, they opened it, their eyes scanning the contents.
‘THIS IS A REALLY NICE PLACE YOU’VE GOT HERE! MIND IF I MOVE IN? I HOPE YOU’RE READING THIS SILLY NOTE! I MIGHT’VE STOLEN SOME DOCUMENTS AND IMPORTANT FILES FROM YOUR OFFICE, SORRY, AGENT [NAME]~!’
A low groan of frustration escaped their lips as they crumpled the note and tossed it into the garbage. [name] rubbed their temples, too drained to deal with the antics of a certain mafioso tonight. Just as they tried to let the tension slip away, they caught sight of something—someone—standing on the balcony.
Their heart skipped a beat, and instinctively, they reached for their gun, gripping it tightly as they cautiously approached the window. They slid it open with precision, never taking their eyes off the figure leaning against the railing. "You’re persistent," [name] said, gun ready but posture steady.
The man on the balcony didn’t seem fazed by the weapon. Dazai Osamu smiled as if this were all part of a game. "And you’re elusive," he countered, voice light and carefree. But there was something beneath that tone, something deeper, lurking behind the casual amusement in his gaze. "I like people who don’t give themselves away so easily."
[name] sighed, lowering the gun but keeping it in hand. Arms crossed, they met his eyes with thinly veiled exasperation. "What do you want, Dazai?"
He tilted his head slightly, as though considering the question, his eyes glinting with amusement. "I’ve been trying to figure that out. You’re… interesting. And I’m rarely interested in anyone."
"Flattering," [name] muttered, voice laced with sarcasm as their patience wore thin. "But I’ve got work to do."
Dazai’s expression shifted, his grin softening, but his presence growing more intense as he stepped closer. "I know," he said quietly. "That’s what makes this so fun. You, with your little secrets and dangerous missions… I can’t help but want to unravel it all."
"You can’t follow me forever," [name] warned, voice quieter now, each word a warning laced with resolve.
Dazai’s smile softened further, almost genuine. "Maybe not," he agreed, his voice low, "but I can follow you for a little while longer.”
“Get the hell out of my apartment,” [name] snapped, their voice sharp as they levelled the gun at Dazai. The cold metal clicked audibly as they cocked it, a clear threat in the air. They pointed toward the door, eyes hard and unyielding. “Do it now, or I'll shoot you.”
Dazai’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it widened, his eyes gleaming with that same unsettling amusement, as if the threat didn’t faze him in the slightest. He raised his hands in mock surrender, but his body remained relaxed, nonchalant, as though he were in complete control of the situation.
“Shoot me?” he mused, voice light but laced with something darker. “Now, now, Agent [name] that seems a bit extreme, doesn’t it?”
“You think I’m joking?” [name] growled, finger hovering dangerously over the trigger.
Dazai took a step closer, completely unbothered by the barrel pointed at him. His voice dropped to a near whisper, his eyes locking with theirs. “No, I don’t. That’s what makes this so exciting.”
There was a tension in the room now, thick and palpable. [name] held their ground, but Dazai’s calmness, his lack of fear—it was disarming. He was playing a game they weren’t sure they could win.
“Get out.” [name] demanded, not lowering the gun but sensing this encounter was only going to spiral deeper.
Dazai’s smile softened just a touch, his tone almost genuine. “Nope~!”
“You’re testing my patience,” [name] warned, heart pounding but steady, still aiming squarely at his chest.
“Good,” Dazai murmured, stepping back toward the balcony door. “I like it when people have limits. It gives me something to push.”
With a final glance, he gave them a playful wink. “Until next time, Agent.” Then, as quickly and casually as he had appeared, Dazai slipped out, leaving the tension in the room behind him like a lingering shadow.
[name] stood still, their gun still raised, breaths coming in heavy. The sense of danger hadn’t left—it was only a matter of time before he returned.
additional author notes : ending kinda sucked ass again smh..
word count: 1k
reposts are welcome but do not steal my work!