⌯⌲ kinda wanted to write something for myself real quick. i personally don’t want any kids, & i would never date anyone who does, but idk. here’s an au with a fem!reader that doesn’t know how to react, i guess.
｡𖦹°‧ daydreaming about a date with an older single!dadzai ｡𖦹°‧
“You… have a kid?” You ask, looking at your date sitting across from you, the table arranged neatly in the fancy restaurant you normally would never step foot in under any other circumstance. He smiles, warm, a little proud, before nodding once.
“Yeah, I have a son,” he tells you again, and while you haven’t known him terribly long, you would have never pinned Dazai as a father. He’s… odd, a bit out there, someone you would easily describe as irresponsible, a jokester, and, well, suicidal. Your first time meeting him was when he stood on the cliffside, hands in his pants pockets, bandages around his neck and arms, and staring out into the open horizon as if he was looking for a reason. A sign. You were out on a jog, you had no intentions of wanting to prevent a death, but the sight had a pit deep in your stomach enough to go up to him, ask him what he was up to, and he merely smiled — as if he had made a decision right then and there — before saying ‘admiring the view’.
You two have been seeing each other since then, this bit of a weirdo somehow wooing you into a first date with his poetic speech, calculated turn of phrase, and charming wit. Then a second. Then a third. You’ve been on so many, but you still don’t really feel like you know him. And now, suddenly, he’s dropping a bomb on you that he’s a dad.
The thought though that he was willing to leave a child behind puts a sour taste in your mouth now. We all have our issues, sure, but the ability to leave behind your child without a second thought? How could someone do that so easily? You suppose you have no room to judge, you have thought about it yourself once or twice, and while there aren’t any “little you”s running around, there are still people that you’d be leaving behind that would put a sour taste in a different stranger’s mouth if they knew.
“What’s his name?” You entertain, testing the waters to see if this is where you want to bow out, call it quits, run for the hills and try again. But you found what seems like a rare gem out in the wild, forcing yourself back out into the open world again after such an intriguing man, you’d probably never date again.
“Yuusei. I call him Yuu or Sei, just depends on what comes out of my mouth first,” his eyes watch you, ever observant, noticing how you stopped eating, hands clasped into front of you with white knuckles, and the smile you’re wearing is — unbeknownst to you — tight and a bit aghast at this news. “Does this bother you?” He asks simply, those usual solemn eyes you have grown so used to now alight, flickering with the dim atmosphere of the restaurant, and his cheek rests on his folded hands as he smiles in return. A challenge, if you will.
This isn’t his first rodeo. Most women he encounters often turn tail the moment he mentions having a kid, a young one at that. He isn’t stupid, well aware that being with him comes the added responsibility of becoming a parental figure also — he didn’t initially want that either, but he’s done his best to step up, and he would expect a partner to be willing to try if they chose to stay. However, he also understands and appreciates their honesty in walking away, no matter how much he may have liked them. Watching you, he already sees one foot out the door as you take in his words.
“Yuusei?” You repeat. He nods. “Did you name him?” His eyebrow twitches at the follow up question, not expecting it, but not letting his guard down either.
“No, his mother did. She gets upset when I call him by a nickname, though,” he chuckles, soft, and his head lifts again as his gaze downcasts, roaming over the table to avoid looking at you. “But I like his name. And she was kind enough to let him have my family name, so I can’t complain too much.” Right, it’s usually important for the first son to carry the family name. You just expected him to be a little more… modern.
“You… You must be happy then to have a boy, to carry on your name?” You attempt, trying to be engaged in the conversation, trying not to be rude. Babies and children aren’t necessarily on your mind right now, a topic you tend to avoid, but he was brave enough to mention it, to not keep it from you. It is only polite to ask him about his son.
“That isn’t necessarily something I care about, actually,” he shrugs, his hand coming back down to the table, fingers messing with his utensils, and his sweater sleeve is securely wrapped around his wrist — no bandages aside from his neck. “Obviously, he wasn’t planned, and I won’t sit here and pretend with you that I was excited for the news.” His expression has shifted as he continues talking, that somber yet indifferent impression across his features you would normally see when he is listening to you ramble. Taking in everything you have to say, to register it in his memory, being a good listener. Those wandering eyes find yours, dark and shadowed, before looking away once more. “I actually disappeared when she got in contact with me to tell me.” You stare at him, unblinking, feeling your smile slowly drop as you do. You suck in your lips, along with a deep inhale, then clear your throat as your back straightens and shift in your seat.
“I can’t blame or fault you for that, per se,” you begin, keeping your voice low but gentle. “You’re pretty young, right? It-It had to have been scary.” Young? How old does she think I am? He is still avoiding you, chin propped up on the heel of his hand, the other draped over the table as his fingers occupy themselves with tugging at the sleeve, and he has a far away look in his eye, as if he mentally left the building without you. This is the first time he ever mentioned to anyone that he bolted the moment he got that phone call from the girl, telling him he wanted to keep it. No one could get ahold of him or find him for a good five months; he slipped up, crawled out of the woodwork too soon, and was being reprimanded like a school kid by his closest friend for scaring everyone to death.
When his friend found out why, Dazai was calling her that very night to apologize and see what he can do to help.
“It wasn’t my most shining moment.”
“But you’re here now,” you attempt, giving him a hopeful but sympathetic smile. “You’re telling me about him, and you seem so fond of him to give him nicknames, and he has your family name. You see him, right? Shared custody?” He finally glances at you, this conversation going on longer than he expected, taken aback by your interest, by your consoling him — it wasn’t something he was after, but a small sensation stirs in his chest when he sees your awaiting face, eyes right on him, and he feels strange.
“Yeah, yes,” he nods, removing his hand and forcing himself to look at you head on, trying not to close in on himself like he already was, preparing for the inevitable when you leave and he never sees you again. “I do love my kid. I see him all the time, it’s actually my turn with him now. He’s got a babysitter at home while I’m here.” He runs his palms along his thighs, forcing a tiny smile, and you give him one in return. “I may have disappeared at first, but I have a lot of good people in my life that turned me right back. I was there when he was born, I get along well enough with his mom, and he… he’s okay. He’s like me, but only my good traits. He’s like her in all the other ways.” He goes on, nervous but giddy at the same time to finally tell you about him. He’s wanted to mention being a dad to you for so long, but he really does like you, and he was worried that you’d leave. Of course he isn’t embarrassed or ashamed of having a kid, you have just made it clear to him that being a mother in any capacity isn’t on your list of things to do, and he wanted to spend as much time as he could with you before telling you his “big secret”.
You watch Dazai, the way he shifts in his seat, the smiles and grins he wears while telling you about Yuusei, a child you haven’t met, and something blurs. Not big, but enough to be noticeable, and he finally asks the inevitable: “Would you like to see a picture of him?” His hand is already digging around in his pocket for his phone, and your lips stretch out further at the offer.
“Yes, please,” curiosity always will get the better of you, fingers coming out to grab his phone to stare at the screen, and there’s a bright picture on it with what looks like a toddler-sized Dazai. Your gaze darts between it and your date, a small laugh coming out, and you genuinely can’t believe it. Even down to the smile they look the same. “He looks exactly like you.” You finally get out after comparing for such a long time. He grins, not in any rush to take the phone back so you can keep looking, proud and elated to show off his kid to you, and he accidentally blushes.
“I get that a lot,” he admits, sheepish. “That’s my little mini me. He can cause a lot of trouble if you let him, also kind of like me.” He laughs lightly, a weight off his shoulders, and you carefully hand it back to him.
“Dazai, he’s adorable,” you can’t help but gush. “And his eyes are so pretty, just like yours.” You slip, biting down on your lip for mentioning that aloud, and his blush intensifies at the compliment. “How old is he?” Your finger gently taps on the edge of the device, and his thumb slides to a new photo of Yuusei next to a giant number, turning it to show you.
“He’s six, he just had his birthday,” he points vaguely at a general area of the photo, and he suddenly gets shy. “He’s a bit of a dork like me, he loves video games and begged to have some dragon themed cake and stuff from something he plays. His mom and I kind of had to go in together to pay for everything, but, you know, I’d rather do that than him have two birthdays.”
“Is there an issue with two birthdays?” You blurt without thinking, slightly triggered by that comment since you have always had two birthdays growing up. You maintain your composure well enough, him too blind with gushing over his kid to notice your eyebrow twitch and smile falter.
“Nothing, obviously. He usually gets two birthdays,” he shrugs, closing out of his photos then catch briefly that his home screen is also a picture of Yuusei, where it looks like he’s on the playground standing on a swing — absolutely cheesing right into the camera. You really do love your kid. “He’s just getting to that age where he’s gonna start actually remembering stuff better. I want him to remember that he had a birthday party he actually wanted instead of having two that wasn’t really… special, I guess.” He shrugs, setting his device on the surface, face down, then sits up straighter to give you his undivided attention. You can’t help staring again in a weird silence, unable to figure out what exactly to say to him, and you never want to hang out prizes to people who do the bare minimum, but your feelings and emotions are mixed. A lot just happened in the span of a few minutes, and you have long forgotten your food.
Your eyes flit around to this place, the extravagance, the detailing, the bottle of wine on the table in a fancy ice bucket, the prices you saw on the menu that made you nervous but he insisted it was no bother. How he mentioned he and the mother had to both go all in on his son’s birthday — someone whom you just learned about. You eye his attire, his demeanor, his patience as he waits for you to say something. Teeth gnaw at the inside of your cheek, elbows on the table, and you sigh inwardly.
“I’m really happy that you love being a dad,” you finally say, unsure if those are the words you really want to go with, but it’s too late to take them back. “I know we haven’t gone out long, and I don’t think I have the right to say this, but I find it endearing that you actually love and care about your son.” He stares at you now unblinking, not saying anything, and continuing to wait. You sit there for a second, hesitant, lips parting to correct yourself, worried you maybe said the wrong thing. “I-I might not be saying this right. I… I don’t know the first thing about being a parent. And, quite frankly, I don’t really care to know, but—”
“I need to know if this is going to be the last time we ever see each other,” he interrupts, an incredibly soft and awestrikingly gentle whisper, one that carries grief and understanding, but his eyes — oh, his eyes hold his true feelings. “I’m a big boy, I can handle hearing you want no part of this. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it definitely won’t be the last.” The air isn’t as thick as you expected, the quiet bustling of the evening surrounding you two as you sit politely from one another at the table adorned with decorations and flowers you could care less about. The food was fine, you suppose, but the topic of conversation steered your appetite away, and you start to wonder if this was his version of a goodbye dinner.
Your mouth opens again, and he doesn’t know quite exactly how he is to take your response: “I don’t know, Dazai.”
“You don’t know?” He echoes, a little confused. It’s better than ‘no’, but you don’t know?
“I mean, we’ve only been out a few times. A handful of times—”
“We’ve been seeing each other for a few months,” he speaks slowly, noticing you’re becoming increasingly more frantic, and he wonders if he maybe shouldn’t have done this to you in public.
“Has it really been that long?” You breathe out an uneasy laugh, trying to collect your thoughts, gather your bearings, but it’s quite possible you may have been the one to ruin your chances with this reaction alone. “Wow, I thought… it feels like… Time really flies!” You laugh again, embarrassment encroaching while you sit there in a mental mess of your own creation, trying to see if there’s a way to fix this. He sits there quietly, staring, observing, and he wonders what else you may say through your bewildered babbling.
“You can tell me the truth,” he says. “You don’t need to dance around anything. I told you I can handle whatever you have to say.”
“The problem is I don’t know what to say!” You snap, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I wasn’t prepared to receive news like this. Not that it’s bad news, I just… God, I’m sorry, I-I can’t articulate how I’m feeling or thinking correctly. I sound like a fucking moron.” You grumble, mostly to yourself, and his head cocks.
“I’m not asking you to meet him or be a step mother right at this moment, if that’s what you’re concerned with,” he’s speaking to you in a soothing tone, clearly trying to console you now, but you feel jumbled. Jarred. Inconsiderate. When you walked in here, it was just for a date with Dazai, the charming and funny guy that you literally had to talk off the ledge once that you have been seeing for apparent months. You’re going to be leaving this date with the knowledge that he’s a father, with a child of his own that he clearly loves and takes care of; previously, it was so sweet to see him talk about it, making you feel warm inside.
It was when the realization hit that you’re dating him. You’re pursuing him romantically, and if you make the decision to take him up on his offer to be his girlfriend, you would be subject to his child. If you two were to become serious, like, engagement and marriage serious, there would be that expectation of you becoming a parent. You’re torn in two: on the one hand, you sincerely like him and do want to continue seeing him; on the other, you don’t think you have what it takes to be a guiding force for a 6-year-old.
“Are you okay—”
“Can we keep seeing each other, just the two of us, before I make a decision?” You interrupt. “That way, I don’t traumatize your kid by entering then exiting his life so suddenly, and we… we can just put it behind us and move on.” You rush everything out, looking at him, seeing he’s staring back with a raised brow, and then he sighs some through his nose.
“I’ve upset you.”
“No!” You clear your throat then lower your voice, pretending eyes aren’t momentarily on you. “No, no you didn’t upset me.”
“Then what is it?” His arm finally stretches across the table, gingerly taking your hand in his, and his thumb calmly runs along your knuckles. Your fingers twitch in his palm, looking down at your conjoined hands, and you both love and loathe how it feels.
“I’ve seen this film before,” you murmur. “I’ve lived it. We think highly of each other, think we’re so great now, but later something happens. Maybe it is because of Yuusei, and my atrocious lack of understanding what being a parent means. What if I take you away from him? What if the mom hates me?” He listens intently, not letting you go but instead holding it tighter, finally comprehending the issue. “I’m not so selfish to do that, by the way. I just… I know how I am. I know what I want, at least right now, and I don’t want to hurt a child if things are great now but they’re not so great later.” You sigh, suddenly allowing yourself to clutch his hand tight, shaking your head.
“Am I allowed to ask—”
“What if Yuusei doesn’t like me?!” You groan quietly, already feeling the imaginary defeat drop on your shoulders. “I clearly wouldn’t make you pick between me or your kid, I’m not that evil.” He falters, briefly, staring at you after you steam rolled over his question, clear avoidance. I suppose the answer is currently 'no'. Baby steps, then.
“I don’t think you’re evil at all,” he calmly tells you. “I do think you are overthinking this, but it seems to be because you do care.” He explains, bringing your hand up to clasp securely in both of his large ones, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’d love nothing more than to keep seeing you, keep going on dates with you, but eventually Sei is going to ask where I keep going without him, and I don’t know how many more times I can get away with saying that I'm just seeing a friend before he asks to meet said friend."
"Please don't pressure me," you whisper.
"I'm not pressuring you. If I'm being too forward, tell me, I'll back away," he pauses, pressing his lips to your fingers for another lingering kiss before looking back at you. You don't say anything, mind still reeling, heart beating out of turn, and stomach churning with butterflies — unsure if it is from the nerves and fear, or his unwavering presence. "Just focus on me right now, yeah?" He nods slowly, your head following the same motions, and there's a hint of sparkle in his eye while he gazes at you. "Getting so worked up. You must really like me." He is taking a huge leap with that statement, and your shoulders slump with ease at his playful taunting, and eyes accidentally roll.
"Whoever said I like you?" You sigh, dramatically, jokingly yanking your hand away from him and peering down at your plate to busy your line-of-sight. Flustered, shy, and embarrassed at your outburst that he was able to smooth over so easily.
"I can read people," he lifts his glass, bringing it to his lips, then stops as his alluring, deep brown irises pull you to his attention. You wait, rather impatiently, for whatever it is he wants to say. Brows raise, eyeing him suspiciously, then he suddenly winks with a smirk hidden behind the sanguine liquid occupying his cup. "And you, my darling, are an open book."
i just wanted a reader/mc who is not happy at the prospect of being a parent for once.
I'm surprised by how persistent the image of a weak Chuuya has been in the fandom. Many fanfics and fanarts continue to portray him as overly feminine, defenseless, and naive—as if forgetting who they're talking about.
But let's turn to canon: Nakahara Chuuya is the wielder of the most destructive ability, "Upon the Tainted Sorrow," and the vessel of a deity. He's not just a formidable weapon for the mafia; he's a man whose skill has earned the respect of even Dazai. In chapter ten of the manga, he says, "I'd expect nothing less from the mafia's number one martial artist."
This title—"number one martial artist"—speaks for itself. His strength lies not only in his ability, but also in his years of training, discipline, and incredible willpower, which allows him to control such dangerous power.
found a video of a guy putting a picture of his GF on his face and pretending a bottle was his nipple to trick his baby into eating when the GF was out and it was so Dazai coded so I drew it
WC: 1k+ | WARNINGS: x fem reader, reader is a mother, dazai is a father, you both have a daughter, ooc dazai? + more
⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: hihihi!!! this idea has been stuck in my head for the longest time, And I absolutely love ur writing style!!!!!!!! So I’m wondering if it’s possible for you to write a dadzai x fem!reader and he has a little daughter!! Thank u!!! - ANON
m.list | bsd m.list
Dazai would be the ultimate playful dad. He'd constantly come up with games to entertain his daughter, he'd let her win every time! he doesn't love to see his little princess sad, he wants her happy all the time. No tears around here!
Dazai’s teasing extends to both you and your daughter. He’d affectionately poke fun at the little things, like when his daughter mispronounces words or when you’re caught being overly serious.
Dazai is very protective of the both of you, your his only family, your his wife, and she's his daughter. He makes sure everything is secure, he doesn't want either of you in danger, he's always looking out for the threats, especially considering what his last job was.
Dazai would constantly shower his daughter with affection, but in the most chaotic way possible. Imagine him picking her up and spinning her around until she’s dizzy with laughter, or carrying her on his shoulders >.<
After your daughter goes to bed, Dazai loves having lovey-dovey moments with you, kissing you, hugging you, teasing you, having sex with you, he loves you all.
Dazai always be thinking of spontaneous adventures to take you and your daughter on (yes he will avoid work by doing this, he's hitting two birds with one stone) loves to watch his little girl play on the playground, making sandcastles but he glares at any boys who goes up to her.
Protective Dazai! GLARES AT THE LITTLE BOYS WHO WALK UP TO HIS LITTLE PRINCESS 😭🙏🏼
Dazai’s attempts at teaching his daughter important life lessons would often be... unorthodox. He’d tell her bizarre metaphors or use strange examples... when she's older, in her teen years, she starts talking about a double suicide as well...
When his daughter comes home with school projects or arts and crafts, Dazai gets surprisingly into it. He’d help her build the most elaborate school project.
As much as he wants to shelter his daughter, Dazai also believes in giving her independence to explore the world. He trusts that with both of your guidance, she’ll grow into someone independent.
BEDTIME STORIES!! DAZAI LOVES PULLING GUNNY VOICES WHILE READING HIS PRINCESS A STORY! He’d act out characters, make exaggerated voices, and then cuddle up with her until she falls asleep, her tiny hand clutching his 🥺
Dazai and your daughter would often conspire against you in the cutest of ways, like pretending to plan a prank or plotting a surprise just to make you laugh.
Now.... Beast!Dazai as a father...
Dazai would soften in front of his daughter, would absolutely never get mad, never yell, none of that. He is incredibly protective of the both of you, almost to the point where he is paranoid because he's scared something might happen to you and his little princess.
Though he’s a feared man in the underworld, when he’s home, he’s a completely different person with his daughter. He’ll play peek-a-boo, help her chase butterflies, and allow her to style his hair (which is why he often has bows or clips in his hair when you come home)
He’s big on teaching his daughter how to read people and situations. Even from a young age, he’ll subtly point out things like body language, tone of voice, and how to trust her instincts. He wants her to be sharp and never get hurt, he doesn't want her to suffer in a world like his
Dazai spoils you both, bringing back gifts with him after missions, flowers, toys, all of that. He loves to see his girls happy.
On nights where he can’t sleep (which is often), you’ll find him in his daughter’s room, quietly watching her sleep (NOT IN A CREEPY WAY LAMFOBSOJBVLS) Sometimes, he’ll hum lullabies from his childhood to soothe himself as much as his daughter.
You are the one person who keeps Dazai grounded. While his daughter melts his heart, you provide him with emotional stability. He’ll confide in you about his fears of failing as a father, or anything, because he knows you're there to help him, to help him do teh right things, reassure him, telling him that he's doing the best.
Dazai trains his daughter in self defense. He doesn't want her involved in the mafia, he just wants her to be able to protect herself. He only does it when his pretty wifey isn't home though... he doesn't want to get scolded for you catching him teaching her how to wield and shoot a gun
Family nights every night! Dazai never knows when his last night will be so he makes you eat together, watch a movie, reading a story to his daughter every night without a fail because he chesrishes these moments so much.
Dazai isn’t big on over-the-top displays of affection in public, but when it’s just you and him, he’ll wrap his arms around you, especially when he’s feeling vulnerable. He’ll kiss your forehead or play with your hair.
Dazai would raise his daughter to be independent. He’ll often praise her when she tries to solve problems on her own, even if it’s just something as small as putting her toys away. He wants her to grow up capable, strong enough so a man doesn't need to provide for her (even if shes an adult, dazai will never approve of a man with her)
Though Dazai is laid-back around you, once his daughter starts showing affection to other male figures, whether it's an innocent crush or just bonding with a friend, he’ll get hilariously overprotective. You’d have to reassure him that his little girl isn’t going anywhere 😭🙏🏼
He has a habit of giving his daughter cute nicknames, princess, my little girl, my little princess!
Dazai occasionally fears that he won’t be a good father because of his past and the world he’s still involved in. But you remind him that he’s doing his best, and the love he has for both you and his daughter is more than enough to prove he’s a great dad.
Dazai has a hidden soft spot for his family (obviously). You often catch him staring at both of you with a soft, almost melancholic smile, as if he can’t believe he’s found something so pure and worth protecting.
Do not copy, steal, modify, etc.
Relogs and like are appreciated.
