I Think Dazai Would Like Mess Around With Your Makeup Stuffs And Pretends He’s You Doing Your Makeup

deer omg omg all this fluff today has me dead on the floor ur trying to kill me i swear 😭😭

i love it sm never stop

-🩵

hehehe glad you enjoy!!! me if writing fluff was a crime

Ofc you only have to answer my request if you wanna!!! Please take care of yourself :33 💞

you're perfect tbh i promise it's there somewhere!!! just gotta dig it back out when i have the time

miss you mom

MOM????????

dazai is alive you just dont get it

dishwashing fic has my heart (like all your works), kiss💗

AHEYGADGH THANK YOU 💗💗💗💗

I was wondering if how can I address you?? Is there any name/ nickname or we can just refer to you as “deer” ? :)

whatever you want is fine tbh haha i think deer is cute :)

You don't understand how badly I want to eat your writing

OMGGG nom nom eat it up idc!!!! it's all yours cheetozai 😋😋

A soft smile pulls at Dazai's lips as he watches you grab your phone. The bright light illuminating your face in the dark kitchen makes you look ethereal, yet he can't stop himself from making a joke. "You know I don't know how to do this."

"You know better than I," you say softly, an amused smirk pulling at your lips as you press play. Nocturne Op. 9, No. 2 begins to softly play from your shitty phone speakers as you place it on a counter, walking towards Dazai.

"I'd probably be better with the lights on," he tries joking again. You don't reply as you place your hands softly on the back of his neck, pulling yourself close as you begin to sway.

Back and forth, back and forth, you continue to step, and Dazai follows each move perfectly. It's no waltz by any means, but it is yours to share. A moment together, a moment of quiet vulnerability in the late hours of the night when everyone else is asleep is sometimes just what he needs - and you always know it.

The peaceful piano piece and the warmth of your body near his makes Dazai's eyes flutter closed, his head moving to rest on your shoulder as yours falls onto his. He hadn't realized just how tired he is, physically and emotionally. His throat begins to sting, and his eyes feel dryer than normal. He feels like crying. And yet, no tears slip past his eyes - they never do - as his hold on you tightens.

The music swells, hitting the part you'll always say is your favorite, and he feels you give him a gentle squeeze, a reassuring touch that causes him to loosen his hold. You aren't going anywhere, neither of you are.

A small this is my favorite part is whispered into his shoulder and Dazai wants to laugh. You're so predictable, and yet that predictability brings a sense of ease and comfort to him that he hasn't felt in a long time. He keeps quiet, his head moving further into your neck as he continues swaying with you.

I've never been one for classical music, I can barely see in the dark, you know I can't waltz, all excuses to stop himself from being vulnerable with you. But the second you pull him close, holding his face to your shoulder and rocking him like a baby on the wood-paneled floor of your shared apartment, he wonders why he fought it in the first place.

As the last note fades out, Dazai's face is fully buried into the crook of your neck, grasping onto your body loosely and tiredly. You aren't going anywhere, neither of you are. And the two of you continue to sway for minutes more, nothing outside of the occasional floorboard creek to interrupt as you embrace each other under the moonlight.

You're oblivious and Jinshi's an idiot | The Apothecary Diaries | Jinshi x reader

cw - gn but you're in the rear palace and maidservant is used a few times in reference to you and your job, brief mention of nail picking

You calmly sit beside the purple haired eunuch, feeling a little anxious at placing yourself in such a position. Sitting beside someone of higher rank is criminal, so nonchalantly taking up the same space as they are. Anxiously tapping your fingers against your thighs, hands resting politely in your lap and head turned down, you await his next words.

"You won't turn to me?" He seems slightly teasing, but you're too nervous to check.

Jinshi rests his elbow on top of the no doubt expensive wooden table, chin pillowed by his palm and keeping his head up. His second arm moves forward, hand lifting close to you. With careful movements, Jinshi's pointer finger brushes back a strand of loose hair, finger pad trailing down your jaw until it stops on your chin.

Still, you say nothing, body still and turned down. His pointer finger curls as it slides below your chin, pulling you to the side to look at him. An amused smile is on his lips - he was definitely teasing a moment ago - and a glimmer of affection softens his eyes. "You agreed to dinner, did you not?" He leans toward you ever so slightly, a barely imperceptible change.

"Yes, Master Jinshi," you reply obediently. Perhaps Maomao was busy with lady-in-waiting duties, you had originally thought, assuming that you were called in as a poison taster.

The lean toward you is much more apparent this time, Jinshi letting out a sigh just before doing it. He's a mere few inches from your shoulder, hand dropping from your face to grip the edge of your chair closest to him. "Then I don't understand why you seem so reserved. You're usually much more open and energetic with me."

Your lips part, about to reply with the first thought on your mind, before quickly closing your mouth. One, two, three seconds pass as you think of how to traverse the situation you've found yourself in.

"My apologies, sir,” you choose to reply, “I shouldn't have behaved so inappropriately before.” Each word is chosen with intention as you reply steadily. Is that why you've been called here? For your lax behavior around the rear palace manager?

Yes, you weren't great at maintaining a professional facade while with Jinshi. He could be childish and annoying, that's true, but more than anything you just enjoyed playing with his self-assured and flirtatious persona whenever possible. Light teasing tended to leave him speechless and you adored watching the gears turn in his brain. With certainty, you can say you’re the only maidservant to ever give back the same energy he put out.

Jinshi pulls back, staring at you with a frown as he sits properly in his seat. "That's not what you were going to say."

"No," you agree.

The frown turns to a more pronounced pout, bottom lip jutting out and eyes narrowing. He's acting childish again, something that usually makes you smile (knowing you’ve successfully pushed his buttons) but only serves to make you more nervous as you anxiously pinch the fabric of your attire between your fingers. It's a nervous habit you picked up after trying to stop yourself from picking at your fingernails, each of which are low and choppy even if you've been quite a few months free of the practice.

"What had you wanted to say?" He implores. It's cute, honestly - watching Jinshi stare at you so pleadingly as he tries to keep his voice steady. You glance around, wondering where Gaoshun has been this whole time.

"I want for nothing, Master," you reply uncharacteristically of yourself, the words sounding rehearsed even though you hadn't been expecting this exchange at all.

Join me for dinner, he'd ordered curtly. No other information, merely requesting your presence for the night before leaving. He'd seemed to be in a rush, slightly flustered as he disappeared - likely late for some work he was most assuredly pushing off at the time. You barely finished nodding before he fled the parlor you'd met him in.

"What if I ordered you to tell me?"

"Will you?"

Of course not, Jinshi wants to say, the thought manifesting as a solemn sigh as he looks away. His eyes focus on the large wooden doors ahead, hands tugging at the ends of his hair as he tries to understand where he went wrong. There was no bad blood between you two he had believed - no arguments or chastising or even the slightest criticism or critique.

“Do you even have to ask?" He ends up murmuring lowly. The purple haired man blinks slowly a few times before hearing you sigh to his right. Creaks fill the room as you undoubtedly reposition yourself on the chair he'd pulled over for you to sit in, the sound followed by you clearing your throat.

"What was it you had said? I'm normally more open with you? I was merely going to point out that I'm not normally sitting or standing so closely,” you decide to answer. "I'm never right beside you like this. Our current position only serves to remind me of my rank and where I stand in comparison. I have no right to be here; It's not right for me to be at the same side of the table as you. To be called here for business and then disrespect— "

"Business?" Jinshi cuts you off, eyebrows furrowing as he turns to you with a sincere frown. "Is that why you think I called you here?"

Nervousness shoots up your spine and crawls around your skin as you suddenly feel ruffled. Being made to look a fool isn't something you're unacquainted with being a maidservant, but for some reason, being doled out the same treatment by Jinshi specifically left you feeling embarrassed and flustered. You try to wrack your brain for not only a proper response, but a smart or witty one - yet nothing comes to mind. Without thinking, your fingers come together as you begin picking at the edges of your fingernails. Your sharp tongue has turned limp, feeling heavy in your mouth as you struggle to reply.

It seemed like all Jinshi could do now was frown, the slight flicker of his lips further down causing your breath to hitch. "I'm sorry. It seems I hadn't made my intentions clear," Jinshi pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling annoyed with himself more than anything.

Your sandbag tongue pushes your jaw down, mouth parting as you're about to tell him it's fine - even though you still aren't sure what's happening. Before you can, Jinshi continues: "How would you suggest I ask for someone's hand? I had thought my courting was obvious prior, but now I'm not so sure..."

Courting? In what world had the beautiful eunuch, heartthrob of the rear palace, been courting anyone let alone you? Dozens of admirers, even ones sworn to the emperor, had been clawing each other left and right for a sprinkle of his attention. You'd been able to cozy up to his side as a friend and useful asset inside the rear palace walls, but you never expressed the same adoration and devotion that other palace residents have.

At risk of sounding a little self-centered, you just need to clarify, "You don't mean my hand, surely..?"

Jinshi looks appalled, mouth agape and eyes wide. "Have I been that inconspicuous with my courting? I could've sworn the whole inner court could tell!" He lets out a groan, face falling onto the table in front of him. A loud bang sounds as his forehead lands on the wood harshly.

Have you been that obtuse? Combing through your mind, you recall each time you'd seen Jinshi while out and about, trying to discern if he'd honestly been too discreet or if you'd just managed to write it off. And... nothing comes to mind. Gaoshun had shown more interest in you than Jinshi had, the former always checking up on you and making sure you were alright. His presence held that of a father figure.

Speaking of, where had he run off to? It's rare for you to be completely alone with Jinshi, today marking the first of this occasion. And based on how this is turning out, likely the last as well.

Jinshi flops his head to the side, gazing up at you from the table. "Gaoshun said you took to the gifts I had him deliver," he says childishly, voice soft through his pursed lips as he pouts. "I tried not to express favoritism, as I know you don't enjoy attention from the other maidservants and the court ladies with their needless prying, so I had him drop off small snacks in my stead."

A glimmer shines in your eyes as it finally clicks together. Gaoshun had always been so discreet passing you small snacks every few days. You honestly hadn't thought too much of it outside of thanking him gently, having assumed the older man merely feared for your health on hotter days. It's likely he mentioned at some point that they're from Jinshi and you had simply missed it. Or maybe you were expected to just know..?

Jinshi grumbles, a low hum sounding more like a whine than a groan, before he sits upright in his chair once again. "So, do you not like me?" He asks timidly.

"No," you reply easily. His face falls at this, causing you to backtrack. "I-I mean no I do not not like you. I'm- I'm saying I like you!.. I mean, we're friends, right?"

He pouts childishly, turning away from you with a hmph! "You know that's not what I mean!" The purple haired man's arms are crossed and nose stuck up, body language as dramatic as can be.

Of course you know what he means, yet you can't help but feel unsure anyway. There's no way the Jinshi likes you - a simple laundry attendant who picks on him sometimes. Many girls throw themselves at his feet, so why would he settle for you?

"I think I'm just a little confused," you carefully pick your words. Besides, he's your employer; Is it wise for you to encourage his delusions? There's no way the two of you could have an actual relationship. "You seem to be implying you like me, and I'm unsure if that's your intention." Once more, you shift anxiously in your seat.

The eunuch groans loudly, clearly frustrated with your incessant dismissal of his feelings. "That is my intention, yes. You're welcome to say you don't feel the same, if that's how you feel. However, I'd still like the chance to court you and try to change your mind, if you're comfortable with it."

Flustered and overwhelmed, you shake your head. "Is this appropriate? Can someone in your position court a person so drastically beneath them? What if I fall out of line, wouldn't you still have to correct me?"

A smile tugs at Jinshi's lips for a mere moment before he turns away. "I'm not courting you as the manager of the rear palace. I'd like to court you as a friend, someone you've spent time with absent of titles. I'm not your immediate superior, anyway - those directly above you can issue orders as they see fit, though you've never been the type to step out of line. And, we both know you have only a few months left on your contract. I'm hoping to pin you down before you leave the palace and another man gets to you first."

Now it's your turn to pout, your own lips pursed and eyes narrow as you stare at him. "You enjoy making things difficult," you start. “I can't believe you're doing all this to me. On top of that, you of all people know I do enjoy testing these metaphorical lines,” the last sentence punctuated with a huff.

It's true; that's how Jinshi grew to enjoy your presence. During his time knowing you, you had never been afraid to give back the same energy you received, playing along with Jinshi regardless of positions. However, you've always had a keen sense for what is or isn't allowed around whom - knowing to act like the perfect maidservant around the eunuchs directly responsible for your field of servitude, but understanding even without much prior knowledge that Jinshi is the type to let you get away with a little more.

"Then let's test this one. Let's see if we can push the 'metaphorical line' of our relationship, from professional to romantic," Jinshi's eyes glimmer with hope, a confident grin on his face at what he deemed a perfect segue.

After an annoyed grumble full of incoherent words under your breath, you turn to him with an exasperated sigh. "Fine. I'll allow you to court me - or continue to, rather - during these few months. And once I've fulfilled my contract and am able to return home, we can discuss the idea of potentially changing the status of our relationship."

As you spoke, Jinshi couldn't stop himself from bouncing ever so slightly up and down on his seat, excited beyond all measure. His hand reaches out to you and you flinch, pulling back before he can.

"And only then, Master Jinshi," you add.

He can't even find it in him to be sad, too excited that you've promised him a chance. “Yes, perfect, it’s a deal. Easiest deal I've made in my life. Could I get it in writing?" He begins to ramble on, allowing you to zone out and watch for a moment.

In an attempt to shut him up, you hold out your hand and place it over his mouth. Jinshi has never portrayed himself as someone who detests his own voice, but this was more than you'd ever heard from the man. With a gentle grip, he peels your hand from his mouth via your wrist, holding it tenderly for a moment before placing the tiniest kiss to the skin. Feeling flushed and mind short circuiting, you find yourself frozen in your seat once again. Did he just..?

The large wooden doors suddenly open, Gaoshun finally appearing. He's standing behind Suiren, the two both holding trays containing food. You can barely think, lips parting as you try to come up with a response. Right, you need to—

With Jinshi's hold on your hand, you can't quite hide your face with your sleeves as is custom, instead forced to sit awkwardly with your head bowed as he holds your palm near his face. Does this man know no shame? Your one sleeve is nervously covering the bottom half of your face, hoping for a shred of decency, while Jinshi casually chats with the two as though nothing had happened, is happening. Of course, Suiren and Gaoshun know better than to ask why.

Without a word from you, the two slip out of the office once again, leaving you alone with Jinshi. Your head finally lifts up, noticing the dish in front of the two of you as Jinshi gently drops your hand.

"Like it? Gaoshun had mentioned you'd been particularly happy when he dropped this off to you. I figured that must make it your favorite."

And he's right. You stare down at your favorite meal; The last time you'd gotten a taste was when Gaoshun had secretly passed you a few bites what was now a few weeks ago.

With a small smile, you turn to look at Jinshi. "It is. Thank you."

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.