DEEEER Happy (late) New Year 🎊

the swapping dazais idea was from kaeyxs blog I swear

sorry anon mayb im dumb but idk what u mean by this 😭 the beast & ada dazai rq?

do u think dazai smokes… imagine if he does you’ll get to take away his cig for a second to give him a lil kiss then returns it back to him thats so cute….

smoking is bad very ew pls dont do it tho

i got this hc that dazai does Not smoke . like he has every other vice known to man but ew yucky smoke in his lungs :( i definitely think he'd be childish about it too like if someone's smoking near him he starts coughing horrifically. he's a bastard i hate him

but if he were to smoke!!!! yes this is very cute :3 he'd probably whine as it gets snatched from his mouth but once you put it back he'd still whine because now he wants kisses!!!! there is no winning w him!

y!dazai is such a silly little guy… i can imagine reader developing stockholm syndrome after a while (which is sadly some cases for kidnapping :( ) but maybe he had gotten bored…

YOU GET IT (silly guy) i'm on it boss 🫡

“You opened a window.”

Your metal fork clattered against the ceramic plate, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I’m sorry..?” you start, inviting him to elaborate.

“The window in our bedroom,” Dazai gently set his fork down. “It’s open.”

Silence engulfs the tiny dinner table, the food you’d spent all day cooking turning cold.

“Were you planning something?”

“No, Osamu,” your voice comes out stern, but polite: The last thing you wanted was to anger the man across from you. “I would never-“

“But you have, remember?” His eyes narrowed, not a single glimmer of mercy to be found. “Last month around this time. Is this going to be a pattern?”

Dazai hated when you didn’t reply, but you weren’t sure what to say. You hadn’t opened a window, nor were you even sure what he was referring to.

“You know what happens when you lie, right?”

“I’m not lying, Daz- Osamu. I wouldn’t leave you; You protect me.”

A long sigh escaped the brunet’s lips. As cute as you could be, he wouldn’t tolerate this behavior. “I invite you into my home, keep you fed and clothed, and this is the thanks I get? A half-baked plan covered by a less than stellar lie. You’ve done better, doll. I expect better, honestly...” Was he mad at your alleged escape or the poor lying?

“Osamu, you mean so much to me-“

“But not enough, yes? You prefer your stupid friends, all of whom up and left you when you lost your job and couldn’t afford to keep your apartment, yes? Who was there to help you?” His narrowed gaze turned harsher, a full-blown glare pointed your way. “Who?”

“Y-you were, Osamu.”

“I was.” A sip of his drink allowed for you to breathe, a moment of reprieve as his throat was too busy to reprimand you. “And after no job would hire you, I allowed you to stay, under the promise you made me that you wouldn’t leave me like everyone else has.”

“I don’t want to leave you-“

“Did I say I was finished?”

You sat up tall, frozen solid as you quickly shake your head. No, he didn’t.

“I allowed you free lodge in exchange for some simple house chores, and this is the thanks I get? A broken promise and a poorly made lasagna,” he gestures down to the dinner you’d made. It was a new recipe, sure, but you didn’t think it turned out that badly..

“I’m sorry, Osamu,” you whispered, afraid you’d break out into tears if you spoke any louder. Your throat felt dry and your body felt stiff — Honestly, a cracked window might help you to just breathe right now.

“I’ll have to punish you for this behavior, you know.”

It wasn’t a question, so you don’t respond. Dazai continues eating, legs crossed and leaning back. He was unfazed and relaxed, which makes sense — you were the one in danger.

As you stared silently down at your hands, fists anxiously gripping the fabric of your pants, Dazai smirked. Maybe he should leave the windows open more often.

Hello I’m new here, I just couldn’t help but notices how lovely you write. So I have little request for you.

Can I request Nikolai and any characters you want reaction when their s/o hides stuff between her breasts?

omg welcome just my drunk friend! tysm!!!! i love nikolai im on it 🫡 and dazai ofc..

has: no pronouns used but mention of boobs and bras, also one (1) use of the word tits. is that worthy of a warning? probably not. but Nikolai says it in a weird way bc he’s the worst so just in case 🤞🏻

You knock feverishly on Nikolai’s door. Fuck, where did you leave your key? You’d already made it back to your apartment when you realized it wasn’t in your pockets. The last place you were was Nikolai’s, so if he didn’t have it you aren’t sure who would.

“Nikolai, you dick,” you mutter under your breath. That asshole is definitely still awake, so why wasn’t he answering the door?

The knocking ceases as Nikolai swings the door open, hair unbraided and eyes glimmering. “Missed me that badly?” He leans forward, bending down slightly to maneuver his face just above yours. “You could’ve called, y’know.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “I need to come in.”

“Pushy!~” He pouts, crossing his arms and standing up straight. “Not even gonna say hello?”

A groan passes your lips, too frustrated at your missing key to play his games. “You didn’t.” You pause momentarily. It’s less frustration and more so anxiety that makes your skin crawl and your tone snippy. “Sorry, I just lost my key. I’m worried I dropped it on the street walking home.”

Eyes lighting up, you would’ve sworn Nikolai beamed down at you with two mismatched flashlights. “You need your key, you say? And what if I told you I could procure it for you?”

Your shoulders slump down, relaxing. He’s being an asshole, sure, but at least you know he has it. “Please, Nikolai?”

“Mm… You gotta promise not to be mad when I retrieve it. Especially since I’ll be your savior, you know!” He puffs out his chest, already proud before he has even produced the key.

“I promise, I’ll be eternally grateful as long as I can find that key.”

Nikolai’s warm and ungloved hand slips under your loose shirt collar, digging beneath your bra and in between your breasts. You freeze, even with the warmth of his hand on you. Before you can chew him out for the random grope, the jester pulls your apartment key from in between, flashing both it and a wolfish grin to you.

You say nothing for a moment, just staring slack jawed at your key. Had you really..?

“You dropped it in there before you left,” he shrugs before dropping the key back in between your breasts, not bothering to hand it to you properly. “And I just stare at your tits all the time, so I noticed.”

With a gentle smack to his bicep, you fish the key out once more and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god; I thought I was going to have to change my locks!”

“You still should - I have, like, several copies of your apartment key littered around my apartment,” Nikolai smiles once more.

You don’t even bother replying, just turning around and leaving his place for the second time that night, your apartment key in hand.

Dazai would start hiding things in there too. He tosses a pen your way before heading out on a mission, one where he knows you can’t bring a bag along, just to watch as you stuff it in between your breasts. You’d sigh resignedly, used to his actions by this point and having long given up arguing or telling him off.

When on said mission, he’d find any and every reason that one might need a pen and turn to you expectantly, waiting for you to pull it out and hold it out for him. It’s always so warm after, heated up from its time nestled between where he’d like to be stashed away.

You’d complain after he asks for the pen for the nth time, telling him if he needs to use it so often he can get one himself! Those words were meant to tell him to bring/carry his own pen, but he’d grinned before taking that as meaning he could jam his hand down your shirt to reach for it himself.

“What? You told me to grab it myself…”

small insinuation of self harm

Dazai realizing he loves his s/o, telling them, and then wanting to tell the world ! He's very dramatic, so he repeats it religiously at the agency - a mantra that follows him everywhere :))

Until afterwards when he's alone in his apartment, heart beating out of his chest and feeling especially anxious. What's wrong with him? He didn't do anything differently today than he normally does...

He thinks hard as to what might be causing this, when the door opens and you step in. Oh, he's anxious about you.

But why? He loves you! He's quick to say it as you close and lock his door, and the feeling suddenly returns.

Oh.

He feels a sudden urge to break up with you, loosen contact, drive you away - Does he love you? He didn't want to tell anyone else (he did, he regrets it now). What happens if he falls out of love? Why did he do that? His chest just keeps squeezing, keeps constricting — feeling almost as though he was drowning in his thoughts. A moment of reprieve is granted only by the gentle placement of your hand over his heart.

"Are you alright?"

A few deep breaths and Dazai's heart rate is back in his control. Yes, he loves you, he thinks. But saying it is too scary.

Dazai just looks at you, a war tearing between his brain and his heart, unable to decide how to feel. His brain wants him to vanish: pack up and leave you forever so he doesn't have to deal with this vulnerability. His heart, however, wants to pull you closer. Never leave you, never let you out of his sight, always keep you within six feet of him to protect and love— and like you.

You pull his head onto your chest, cradling it in one hand as the other cards through his hair. "You can tell me anything, you know."

Dazai knows. But telling you he's not actually sure he loves you after his huge breakthrough what was merely the night before feels cruel.

It took a lot for him to open up and admit that, and he's not sure he can open up and admit that he regrets it. He should leave you - you deserve someone better, someone who can shout from the rooftops that you're theirs. But selfishly, he wants to hold you close and let you sooth him.

Seeing him still so torn, not moving as you hold him, causes a frown to come onto your face. All you want is for him to be happy and healthy and loved, and you'd thought you had a 66.67% success rate (you're working on the health thing). Like Dazai had moments prior, you wrack your brain for a change, and quickly land the same place he did: his love for you.

You smile softly, maybe a little sadly, and pull him closer until he's sitting on your lap. "Osamu," you press a kiss to the crown of his head.

He says nothing, just staring blankly. This is the hardest he's ever had to work to keep his heart in check, to stop the frantic beating. Is it hot in here? Should he take off his coat? Why can't he tell everyone he loves his partner? He does love them, he does.

How are you supposed to approach this? If you say you don't have to love me, he could go on the defensive. You just want him to relax. "I'd never force you to do something against your best interest."

Dazai meekly nods. Of course not. You always focus on him and his needs, emotionally and physically. You pack him lunches so he doesn't skip it at work and force him to eat dinners with you most nights. He just now notices the plastic takeout bag on the table - you must have brought that in when you first arrived. You want what's best for him, and he loves you for that! Doesn't he? Does he?

"I don't want you to force yourself into doing anything— saying anything you aren't ready for yet."

Dazai shuts his eyes tightly. Of course you figured it out. Feeling anxious, his heart beats desperately as he relinquishes control, not caring if you notice. Several soft apologies begin to fall from his lips quicker than you can stop them. The turmoil of this is eating him alive, and he hates it. Is running still an option? Does he even want to? The only thing keeping him from opening up new scars tonight is the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He's not sure if he'd leave even if you made him.

Fuck, but staying is so hard. His hands move up to tightly grip the fabric of your shirt, bunching it up between his fingers in hopes to ground himself.

You say nothing, allowing Dazai time to collect himself. Minutes pass, the food you brought likely cold now as Dazai just breathes in your embrace. A small growl from your stomach pulls him from his head finally, a small smile on his face as he looks up, seeing an embarrassed blush decorating your cheeks.

"Sorry, sorry!" Suddenly you're burying your head in Dazai's chest, seeking solace from your embarrassment. You trust him, love him enough to let him comfort you, just as he does you. A groan comes out of your mouth as your hands cover your face.

Dazai chuckles, pulling your head up before gently removing the hands covering your face. Your shoulders fall as Dazai's smile makes you relax. Whatever's bothering him won't go away over night, but you'll always be there to help.

"Come on, let's go eat," Dazai says, voice much calmer than it is when he's loudly boasting about his s/o at the agency. You don't mind. You like this version of Dazai all the same.

He loves you, he's sure of it. He just needs some time to properly accept it before yelling it from the rooftops - and you're more than happy to give him that time.

The Apothecary Diaries masterlist main masterlist

Jinshi

How about fem Dazai 15 in this?!

cute

Dazai is antsy. For those who've seen him regularly the past month, this isn't a new sight: him pulling at the edges of his bandages, shifting continuously in his seat, eyes flittering back and forth... It happens daily at this point.

Until you show up, when he jumps into your arms, drapes himself over your back, leans into your side, anything he can do to be as physically close to you as possible. His clinginess has started to affect your work, unable to do much as Dazai pulls you onto his lap during the day or sits on yours, head pushed into your shoulder. At least lunches are fine as he pulls you onto the Agency's couch and holds you from behind: you can still access your packed food (which Dazai always steals bites of).

Holding your hand isn't enough, either. Dazai needs to be on top of you or have you on top of him, or he's antsy — which leads us to now. He's shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat of your car, the edges of his bandages unraveling as he picks at them. A small look of panic crosses his face as he finally notices, discretely trying to pull them more tightly in hopes of bringing them back to how they were before.

He glances over at you. Your eyes were focused on the road, one hand holding the steering wheel and the other resting on your lap. The hand was taunting Dazai, practically begging him to grab it... so he did. You glance at the intertwined hands briefly before smiling at him, focusing back on the road right after.

...

It wasn't helping. You're right there and he can't hold you? So close he can smell you but can't have you in his embrace?! This must be his own hell, fashioned by Satan himself to torture Dazai for all eternity (or for the next ten minutes before you reach your destination).

"You alright, Dazai?"

He huffs at your question; Of course not. The childish pout on his face makes you let out a breathy laugh. He turns to you with such adoration - what an adorable sound that he coaxed out of you... Ugh, it just makes him want to hold you more.

You squeeze his hand reassuringly, the feeling causing Dazai to relax momentarily... Until once again he's thinking about the warmth of your hand, and how much warmer it'd be to hold you.

"How much longer?" He whines, the same pout on his lips.

"GPS says seven minutes. Are you that excited for this case?" An amused smirk plays on your lips, the teasing tone making Dazai's heart flutter.

He shifts in his seat, the hand not holding yours fidgeting with the fabric of his vest. "Excited for it to be over," he replies, trying to keep his gaze out the window and not on you.

"Seven minutes, and then you can solve it."

Seven minutes. Seven long, excruciating minutes in hell before he can touch you again, hold you again. Seven minutes, 420 seconds, a few red lights and then a shoddy parking job. Seven minutes... seven...

You let out a yelp, eyes widening as you swerve slightly on the road. "Dazai!" You chastise, both hands moving to tightly grip the steering wheel.

His face is pressed up against your neck, hands grabbing you tightly as he leans over the car's center console to be closer. A stupid grin sits on his lips as he giggles, feeling heady from your warmth. Mmm, this is what he was missing...

"Dazai, I'm driving!" you say, as though the man would understand and move off of you. Instead, he lets out a low whine and hugs you tighter, entirely off of his seat and pressing up against you.

"I'm not stopping you." Your gaze shifts over towards him. "Eyes on the road." You huff, but do as he says. His eyes were closed, how could he see you looking at him?

"You can't do this, Dazai."

"It's like you said: it's only seven minutes," Dazai grinned smugly. Part of him wanted to ask why you didn't like him holding you so closely, but he knew you didn't mind. Should he be clinging to you while you're driving? Probably not, but then maybe you shouldn't be so warm and inviting.

You say nothing else, now focused entirely on the road with a tight grip on the steering wheel. Dazai says nothing either: after all, he got what he wanted.

i was hoping to post smth today but yesterday my computer deleted every one of my files!!!!! so i've been working on getting them all back 💔 and havent finished anything

sorry stuffeddeerers :( later this week maybe tho

Jealous demon dazai,, but like..growling teeth tearing claw jealous demon dazai..please hear me out guys

if you'd like a darker side of demonzai, i'll be happy to provide

cw: murder), blood and slight gore

it's in his nature to be cruel and wicked, even if you try to forget about it.

but it's impossible to ignore the glaring truth when you have dazai letting the mask slip right in front of you, the claws he pokes at you with painted a dark red, some mess of bloody flesh held in his hands as he stands in your doorway. his usual smile; mischievous and charming, is too forced now, too sharp and accompanied by an unnatural amusement.

"dazai," you call out, unsure of what to make of the scene, "what..."

you tell yourself it's a prank of some kind—he did like scaring you with props and silly stunts, but there was something about his blank gaze that told you otherwise.

"what?" he echoes, his smile widening, "you mean who, right?"

and he giggles—the sound sends shivers down your spine, your heart pounding—glancing down at the remains splattered over the floor with a slight pout.

"sorry 'bout the mess," his tone was far too light to be apologetic, but you stayed silent, "i'll get it cleaned up by morning."

"okay," you exhale, hoping he didn't comment on how your voice trembled, "and...who...?"

you're not sure if you want to know the answer, not sure if you could handle the weight of it, but seeing how excited he looked at the question, you knew he's have told you regardless.

"can't you guess?" he giggles again, and your eyes are fixated on how there's still blood dripping from his hands, the pool on your floor and the...pieces, "it was the delivery guy. you know, the one who stared at you all weird."

you think about dazai, and how he stares too. how he stares at you like he can't decide if you're worth keeping alive, if you'd be more fun to chase down than play house with.

you can't manage a reply.

"don't worry," he giggles again, and you're thinking about the cheerful expression that was ripped away by sharp claws and a deceiving smile, "nobody saw me. i made sure of it."

it was a good thing. if anyone had seen him, there would be far more blood on your floor and a larger mess for you to pretend to ignore.

"thar's good," your mouth moves on its own, and all you can hear is ringing in your ears. dazai's lips move, too, but you don't know what he's saying anymore. there's still blood on his hands, dripping to the floor. he'll want to hold you with those same hands, later tonight.

and you won't be able to refuse.