Hii!! Hope you’re having a good day!! :D
Can I request a fic (can be any length you want!) of a Dazai x gn!reader. Where the reader is sensitive but always like bottle up their feelings and mask a lot. They’re always super friendly and there for Dazai and others, but when those actions are reciprocated they distance themselves, act very surface level, and pretend that they’re perfectly okay. They do this despite knowing that Dazai sees right then, because they are too scared to admit the fact that they are as strong as they make themself out to be. So they keep on running from their own problems until they’re forced to confront them.
Sorry for how long this I love yapping-
Anyways thank you!!! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)
Nҽʋҽɾ Aʅσɳҽ
⌯⌲ hello sweetheart, i'm doing much better than before! i'm sorry you had to wait so long for this, i was trying to decide if i wanted to make this a mini fic or full length (as well as get my emotions back in line), so i'm going with mini fic today <3 i also thought something like this called for good boyfriend!dazai swooping into the rescue. cw/tw: dead mother a little longer than averge.
Dazai watches as your fingers fiddle with some stuff on your office desk, a solemn expression behind your tired eyes, and his heart is doing everything it can not to break right there. You haven't said too terribly much since coming home from work together yesterday evening. He could tell something was wrong, but he knew asking directly wouldn't reap any answers, so he made sure you were comfortable, food in hand, and let you have total control of the television. He even paid attention to your guilty pleasure "trash" TV series, asking you questions periodically until you quietly asked if he wanted to see from the beginning, and of course he agreed so he could know what was going on. The softness in your voice though was the tell you were upset about something; you were just keeping it inside - again.
The other tell was how late you stayed awake. You didn't like staying up past ten o'clock on worknights, making you drowsy and dragging your feet for an otherwise demanding job, wanting to ensure you had vigilance. However, when something was really digging under your skin, it kept you from getting sleep, even if you were nodding off on the couch. He paused the show and cautiously asked if you'd like to go to sleep soon, but you shook your head, scooted closer to him, and rested your head on his shoulder as you curled up more on the couch cushion. Just have to let you pass out on your own.
His eyes follow Atsushi walking up to your desk, seeing in real time how whatever it is gets shoved to the side, and you light up in your colleague's presence, a smile spreading with your teeth showing, and Atsushi grants you the same. "Hey, I just wanted to thank you for the other day. Your advice worked, and I feel like I have a huge weight off my shoulders." He tells you, and you nod along, smiling bigger but there's a small vacancy in your eyes that only Dazai seems to notice.
"Yeah, of course! I'm glad it worked out for you," your fingers haven't stopped twirling a pen between them, and your leg is bouncing under the desk.
"Were you and Dazai wanting to go get lunch together? I already asked him, and he said only if you were up for it," his thumb vaguely tosses over his shoulder in your boyfriend's direction, and your smile freezes across your features, eyebrows knitting together, and it's noticeable by his highly observant brown eyes right where he sits.
"Oh, uhm, usually that'd be great, but I packed a lunch for myself, so I'll just stay here. But definitely you two go, don't let me stop you," that strange grin is still plastered on your lips, but the strange thing is you did not pack a lunch. In fact, you came empty-handed, aside from your work bag and Dazai.
"Yeah, no problem," Atsushi smiles again, slipping a hand in his pocket, but he's starting to pick up on your fidgeting. "I wouldn't want you to waste anything, but if you decide to change your mind, you know that we'd love you to join." You nod as he walks away, leaving behind a couple taps on your desk, and your expression falls the moment you believe no one is around to look at you. You aren't hungry, you haven't been since lunch yesterday, and now that he's thinking about it, Dazai doesn't remember seeing your plate actually empty after dinner.
He gets to his feet, gearing up to approach you, when he's stopped by Kunikida with a stack of papers. "Dazai, something came up on this old case that seems to have re-opened. I need you to help me review these reports so we can be refreshed and head out here soon." The papers are pressed to his chest, his hand slowly coming up to hold them, eyes darting from them, to his partner, then to you.
"Is there any way you can start without me?" His words are coming out slow, knowing the answer before his sentence is finished, but he can't take anymore seeing you so miserable to wait a second longer without getting to the bottom of it. Kunikida gives him a raised brow, folding his arms, and sighing heavily, pretending to think about his question.
"No," he gestures Dazai to sit back down, rushing him even, as he starts opening his laptop to go over the police reports. Your boyfriend is conflicted, frozen in place, glancing at the work in his hands then to your apparent upset. You haven't looked in his direction like you usually do, and all of your niceties are pointedly fake. "Dazai, sit down and get to work. Quit dawdling." Kunikida snaps, pointing at his chair, and the other sighs inwardly, knowing fully well his partner won't understand he has to put off an important case having rediscovery like this just to check on your "feelings".
The rest of the day consisted of you meandering around, lost in your head, hardly accepting assistance with anything, insisting you were fine and no one needed to worry about a thing. Kenji and Kyouka offered to sit with you in the breakroom during your lunch, commenting on how you didn't have anything and offered to go pick you up something from the convenience store - you lied and said you had already eaten earlier because you 'possibly couldn't wait any longer'. Atsushi, who had overheard that remark as he walked by, thought it was strange because you were at your desk the entire time, unmoving, and passed the concern along to Dazai when he walked back into the office after re-interviewing previous suspects and witnesses.
Yosano noticed you were semi-lifeless, asking you needed anything, and your impression perked up at the sound of another persona's voice. You merely gave her a rehearsed 'I'm totally okay' that she didn't buy, and, once again, took the notice to Dazai - who had been chained to Kunikida ever since this came up, and he hasn't had the chance to be at your side yet.
Ranpo was the only one to know, that master detective with his Ultra Deduction, so he took it upon himself to sit at the empty desk in front of you, telling you the jokes out of his magazine in hopes of pulling some laughter from you - preferably real. He was successful in keeping your mind occupied with conversation, since you weren't doing any of your work either, and Dazai occasionally would sneak a glance up at you, to keep an eye on you. Ranpo, I owe you.
The walk home was quiet, Dazai's hand securely in yours the entire way, wordlessly guiding you to your favorite restaurant, and when you protested, he simply but gently hushed you, letting you know he was the one that was starving and 'possibly couldn't wait any longer'. You swallowed, standing there now mute, because that was exactly what you had told the kids prior.
You two sit at the table, plates in front of you, his completely clean while yours is half-full. "What's got my sweet darling down?" He asks, playing some with his chopsticks, and your hands are tucked away in your lap. "It isn't like you to stay up late and avoid food." He notes, garnering your attention so you can hold eye contact; he gazes at you with sincerity, worry, and understanding, a small smile forming to alleviate the thought that you have done something wrong. "Also not like you to lie to others. What's bothering you?" This is the same conversation you two have whenever something goes wrong - it isn't necessarily a common occurrence, but it has happened enough for you to recognize he's had enough trying to sidestep it.
You clear your throat, gaze downcast now, and you clutch your hands together. "Uhm, I-I'm fine, Osamu, honestly."
"You know you can tell me, especially when I'm already aware something's wrong," his hand sets down on the surface, fingers outstretched to let you know he's there for you. You sigh, peeking in his direction then dropping your line of sight to your abandoned chopsticks.
"I got..." You begin, the lump immediately forming in your throat and tears stinging in your eyes. "I got a call yesterday, from my dad. It was about my mom." You can't look at him, knowing he's looking at you confused since you're more or less estranged from your family. Minimal contact at best. The last time you remember speaking to your mom was months ago, and it was because she let you know they put down the family dog you had no idea they had. "I guess she needed a surgery done on her heart, I didn't know anything about it, and she..." You pause, a tear slipping, wishing this wasn't happening right now in public. He stares at you, lips parting as the realization hits, and he carefully gets up from his seat across you to sit at your side instead.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He whispers, gentle, fingers immediately wiping away on your cheeks.
"I didn't know how to react," you say, honestly, hands starting to shake as it all washes over you, saying it out loud just too much confirmation. "I didn't want to bother you or anyone else. I haven't seen or spoken to her much, I don't talk about my family really, and I just-" You have to cut yourself off, the break in your voice so loud even you can hear it, and you're trying to hide your crying while he internally panics at seeing you like this. You are always so strong, pretending nothing bothers you until it all starts bothering you at once, not able to contain it any longer, and he knows all too well you go through this endless cycle - no matter how many times he assures you that you're allowed to come to him about your problems. This, however, feels much different. Much more vast of an issue to avoid, and he's partially glad he got to you when he did.
"Let's go home," he carefully rushes out, handing you a napkin as you hurriedly wipe away at your continuous tears. "Stay right here, I'll get this paid, then we'll take the train. Okay?" You nod, but clutch tightly onto his sleeve, not letting him leave.
"Can you just..." You cough some into the napkin, letting out a half-hearted 'excuse me', even though no one else is paying attention to you. "Can you hold me, please?" His arms are wrapping around you while you silently sob into his work shirt, turning his back to the rest of the world so they don't try sneaking a peek in your guys' booth while you let out your emotions, shoulders shaking, and he hushes you. He lets you know 'it's all okay' and 'I'm right here', your hands clinging to his body in fear of him disappearing on you too.
You two sat in the restaurant for quite some time, and no one bothered you. Dazai held tight to your trembling body, not saying much aside from comforting words, reassurance that it's okay to not know how to feel about this, and a few kisses to your forehead. He kept handing you napkins from the dispenser on the table, waiting for you to give him the go ahead to get you home.
As you're both leaving, tears dried up and merely sniffling, his hand in yours, you stop him on the sidewalk, jerking him back some, and he leans down to examine you. "Would I be a bad person if I don't go to the funeral?" You hiccup, covering your mouth from embarrassment. He stares at you for a long moment, thumb rubbing along the back of your hand, before he shakes his head.
"No, you wouldn't be a bad person," he assures, his other hand coming up to rake his fingers through your hair. "If you decide you do want to go, just tell me. We'll go together."
"You don't need to go-"
"I said we'll go together," he repeats, firm but gentle, verbally putting his foot down. "I'll be damned letting you go alone." Your lower lip trembles a bit, more tears coming on because you're worried you've done something wrong, but you nod anyway.
"I love you," you whisper, shuffling into his chest once again. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head as he guides you once again to the train station.
"I love you too. You're never alone when you're with me, just remember that."
as i was writing, i was suddenly, mildly inspired by my best friend, whose mom passed away a few years ago. she keeps it to herself most times, even though i know it bothers her. she bottles stuff up like this until she can't anymore too; the only difference is she hides everything behind jokes and dark humor.
- ghxst
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