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knockyasocksoff2022 · 1 year

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The Disastrous Meeting

(A/N: sorry. I know this is bad I kinda have writter's block right now, but I really wanted to write someting. It's longer than I originally planned (I feel like most of my stories are longer than I plan for them to be lol) and I'll probbaly edit this later. Also I didn't mean to make Kunikida such a bad guy in this one but oh well.)

under the cut due to length (3635 words)

I haven’t slept the entire night but I stay laying awake in bed even after my alarm rings. I’m so so so tired yet I can’t fall asleep, not without my Chuuya. The bed is too cold without his warm embrace.

Finally when I grow too restless I walk to the kitchen, but Chuuya isn’t here making breakfast so I decide to forego eating. My stomach is too sensitive to anything besides Chuuya’s cooking and crab, and I’m out of crab so . . .

But knowing he would want me to eat, I look in the fridge and see that there’s some month old vegetables. Chuuya must have left them. They look okay but not worth the effort.

I shut the fridge and feel myself shivering.

When I put on my work clothing I throw one of Chuuya’s jumpers on before putting on my signature tan trench coat. It isn’t very warm, but it’s something, and it smells like him.

—

When I arrive at the office everyone stares at me.

“What are you wearing?” Kunikida’s voice is devoid of emotion but he’s clearly in shock. Oh god, I think I’ve broken him, but why?

I look down, to my surprise the jumper I wear is at least 12 or so centimetres too short for me, like some sort of crop top, despite being loose. I can’t believe I didn’t think about how Chuuya’s height difference might make it hard for me to wear his clothes, probably because he’s usually here to wear mine. I’m not exactly embarrassed, (I know I look good in cropped things) just startled, and through the waves of emotions that crash over me (love, longing) I struggle to hide it.

“What, oh this? The girl I was with last night left it, I was planning on returning it, of course, I’m no thief Kunikida-kun, but not before I’d properly washed it, so I figured, why not wear it first, eh?”

Kunikida just raises an eyebrow, “And that thing on your neck, did she leave that too, or did you just forget to take it off, because I will not tolerate such unprofessional things in this office.” His voice is stern.

“Whatever do you mean, Kunikida-kun?” I make it sound teasing but I genuinely have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Do not make me spell it out for you Dazai. You know very well what I am referring to.”

I really don’t, but I have a reputation so I say nothing and continue onto my desk. Just as I sit down something chokes me. I gag pathetically.

“Dazai-san, this is more than inappropriate for work, think of Kenji and Kyoka. What if we have a case that deals with children? Do you care nothing for the reputation of this agency?”

“Kunikida-kun I really didn’t take you for the type interested in choking people.” I wheeze, feeling around my collar to loosen the blond’s grip but I find no hands there, they’re higher up, grabbing onto . . . a choker.

Oh.

It’s one of Chuuya’s, a casual one, not the subtle black one he wears for work (he took that one with him), no this one is joined together by metal rings in the front and back. Kunikida must have thought it was some kind of toy. That man really has no idea about some things, does he?

“Are you going to take it off, or do I have to.”

“You know how weird that sounds out of context.” I continue to tease him, fighting internal panic at the potential discovery of our relationship, while easily wriggling myself free.

I take the choker off, shrugging as if it was a prank all along and throwing it into my work bag. I certainly won’t let Kunikida touch something belonging to my Chuuya.

I can cover this up easily. I laugh, exaggerating the action, pushing my cartoonish persona. “Ah, you’re still so gullible Kunikida-kun! This isn’t what you think it is, you can buy one of these at any pet shop, did you know that.”

“No, actually, I did not.” he looks intrigued, and pulls out his trusty notebook, probably thinking that women like animals and trying to learn what animals like to impress his mystery woman. Yes, he should be marrying her in less than a year or so.

“Yes, they’re called double lead bearing collars and are considered the most effective by trainers in controlling dogs with aggressive behaviour. I was wearing it wrong, both rings are supposed to go around the side of the dog's neck, not the front and back. Then you attach the special double leash and the dog won’t be able to pull you as you walk it.”

“Hmm, most intriguing. He lifts his pen and shuts the book.

I nod, giving just the right amount of pause. “Yes, I agree, it would indeed be intriguing, if such a thing existed, that is. As of now, it does not, what a shame, don’t you think Kunikida-kun?”

I don’t look up but I can hear the sound of a pen shattering and the spring flying off somewhere to be found by one of the unlucky agency clerks.

—

When the day ends everyone disperses to do the things that normal individuals do after office hours. I have nothing else to do and I feel empty but filled with lead at the same time, the lead being my longing for Chuuya.

As I walk home a chilly spring breeze starts up and I shiver, my body becoming even more numb with the cold temperature, but it’s as if I’m freezing from the inside out.

I pass Chuuya’s favourite wine shop and it crosses my mind to get him a gift but then I remember there’s still another two full weeks until he comes home.

When I arrive home I fall into bed and stare up at the ceiling.

—

When the sun rises I return, from my listless staring, to reality.

Upon this re-entering into reality I notice several things.

It’s cold, (I know it can’t be because of the air con because none has been turned on since Chuuya left), so more accurately, I’m cold, really cold.

My head, back and throat ache.

When I try to stand up, a wave of dizziness assaults me, I fall back down.

I don’t need Ultra Deduction to know that I’ve fallen ill, or at the very least coming down with something.

I swallow, it hurts, tears prickle in my eyes. Not because of the aches and pains so much as the fact that my loving husband isn’t here to care for me. Normally I would tell him I’m not feeling well and he would take my temperature and make me tea and maybe draw me a warm bath and wash my hair. And since I fall ill so rarely he would take the day off to work from home and we would spend the day together.

I lay back down and assess the situation. We have no medicine, well we do but it’s locked in a safe that only Chuuya knows the entry code to, and knowing Chuuya he didn’t just make it my birthday or something dumb like that. He told me he used a random number generator. And he neve lets me watch him opening it. And he says he doesn’t worry about me. Ha!

I could of course buy some more medicine but I don’t even feel like moving.

Now, I’m alone with no medicine and nothing to do and I can’t even stand the thought of being here in this lonely empty place all day. My head spins and aches and I feel like I’m being weighed down by dumbbells.

So, I decide to do something drastic, I decide to go to work.

Maybe I can convince Atsushi or Kenji to buy me some soup. Maybe Yosano will give me something, just to make the pain stop.

Reluctant to leave but reluctant to stay, I bundle up and head out.

—

“Oh, Dazai, it’s you, it’s about time you showed u- ugh!” Kunikida looks me up and down, giving a disgusted grimace. I’m a bit shocked, it's rare to see him this hostile, I mean sure he won’t hesitate to knock my lights out, but this is a different kind of hostility. At least I think so, I can’t really think at all with the fog filling up my head.

“Finally ran out of clothes from jumping in that damned river, did you? Ever heard of a washing machine, a dryer perhaps? Wonderful inventions, truly. You ought to use at least one before you think about coming to work dressed like some crackpot wandering the Tescos car park at some ungodly hour of the night”

(A/N: I just realised after proof-reading this that Kunikida sounds so BrItIsH here, sorry!)

I look at my outfit in the reflection of Kunikida’s desktop, paying more attention now than when I put it on. It consists of an old Holiday jumper, striped pyjama bottoms, a blue woolly hat and Chuuya’s UGS. (Which are a little big on me because I have smaller feet than him, despite my greater height.)

“Ah, forgive the outfit, I haven’t been feeling very myself this morning, I think I have a cold.”

Atsyshi looks legitimately worried at my sincere tone but I see the scepticism behind it.

Kunikida scoffs, “And you came into work? If you were really sick, you would’ve just skipped like usual. You don’t need to put this much effort into faking illness, we aren’t going to believe you anyway, especially because it’s a dead giveaway that you aren’t sick since you put so much effort into this ruse. If you don’t intend on doing any work you should just leave, we don’t have time for this, but since you're here, please get to work.”

His reaction confuses me, I may have lied about other things, but I’ve never lied about being ill. The blond’s face tells me not to argue, but I really just need some medication, surely Yosano won’t mind that.

“I assure you, I am not faking, all I ask is some headache medication from Yosano.”

(A/N: Poor Dazai never sounds sincere even when he is)

The doctor frowns. “Why? So you can try and off yourself again? Uh, no! Just go jump off the roof if you’re that desperate.”

“Exactly, we are not going to hand you means to commit suicide in this office, now please do your work.”

I want to ask him why I would commit suicide when my beloved Chuuya hasn’t come back yet. I don’t want him to find my body when he returns, that would be terrible. But my throat is too dry to form the question and Kunikida looks like he’s going to explode.

I don’t have the energy to argue so I just go to my desk. I can’t take the boredom so, through the haze in my brain, I try to figure out what to do. Suddenly I don’t really remember how I got here but I feel cold, really cold. Kunikida said something about what I usually do, but I can’t remember what it was. Well, what do people usually do at work? Ah, of course, they work!

I open the laptop on my desk, watching a little mystified as my fingers key in the passcode from muscle memory. Quickly, I begin the paperwork, filling in details of cases as they pop into my foggy brain, my fingers blur as I type, for some reason it feels like I have to get this done as fast as possible but I don't really know why. My thoughts blur together in my head, melting into goo and running into each other.

After an hour or so I feel my eyes closing. Well, no, that’s not right. I can feel that they’re wide open, but my field of view is closing, black eats away like I’m looking at a photo that’s being burnt from the edges and the fire is eating its way towards the centre.

I blink but it doesn’t stop, fear creeps in, colouring the gooey thoughts dark and violent shades.

I let my head slump against the wooden desk, or maybe it just falls of its own accord, I can’t tell.

There’s loud thumping and a shadow falls over me.

“Dazai, this is your desk not a bed, you can’t just fall asleep. And stop making such a racket, you needn’t hit your keys quite so loudly.” Kunikida scolds.

“I don’t feel good.” is all I manage to say.

“You’re clearly feeling well enough to annoy us with your intense typing.”

“But, Kunikida-kun, I'm not faking. I just need some headache medication.” My voice cracks.

If he notices the crack he doesn't show it. “You don’t look ill, you could’ve at least tried to cover up your lies, now stop being such a pest.”

“My head hurts, I feel sick.”

“Oh, come off it, you brat! We really don’t have time for this, we have something important to do.”

“You can take my temperature!” My voice comes out, pathetic pleading sound.

“I will do no such thing, now get changed, we have a meeting to attend. And it’s with the Port Mafia, so get your act together. We cannot afford to appear weak.”

“I-”

“Go!” Kunikida’s yell cuts me with its hard edges and leaves my ears ringing, as he tosses a stack of clothes at me.

—

In the restroom I start to change into the things Kunikida gave me. It appears to be some type of suit.

As soon as I remove my jumper, a chill crawls over my skin. I put on the other set of clothes as quickly as I can with my vision spinning and dipping in and out like this. I start to style my hair in preparation for seeing Chuuya, (A/N: think of the Dead Apple hairstyle, cuz I couldn’t find the name) but then I remember that he won’t be there, and the emptiness hits me all over again.

I feel myself slipping down to the floor (ceiling?) as the room twists and bends, and just barely catch myself on the counter. Finally a splash of ice water on my face restores my vision, leaving nausea and an even worse headache in its place.

I stumble clumsily out of the restroom but no one notices.

“Ah finally! Hurry up, you lazy bum, we have to be there in 30 minutes and pick up Ranpo from a mission on the way, you know traffic is a nightmare this time of day. Oh, wait, you can’t even drive. Useless, honestly.”

Positively desperate, I try one last time, “Do I have to go, I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Dazai, quiet yourself and get in the car right now.”

My entire body deflates like a balloon at the dismissal but I manage to drag myself along.

—

I open my eyes slowly as someone shakes me awake.

“We’re here Dazai-san.” It’s Kenji, his sweet smile has none of Kunikida’s malice.

“Thank you Kenji.” my voice is a croak. After a second of hesitation, I ask, “Do I look alright?”

“You look very handsome in that suit Dazai-san. Very respectable.”

“Ah, thanks.”

“No problem.” He skips a head, still cheery despite the imposing nature of the Port Mafia campus.

I lean heavily on the car and sigh as I look up at the big buildings.

Chuuya’s Perspective

It turns out I didn’t need nearly so long to finishe the mission. But I arrive home from Hong Kong in the middle of the morning so I don’t bother going home. I stash my luggage in my office and prepare for the meeting.

We’re having a meeting with the A.D.A today and Osamu will be tehre. I can’t wait to see hi. Part of me is also afraid. I did everything I could but I know he doesn’t care for himself when I’m gone. WHat if he’s lost weight or cut himself or . . .

I take a breath and don’t allow myself to dwell, I’ll be seeing him in a hour anyways.

—

We get into the conference room before the A.D.A arrives.

–

The president walks in first, I catch Mori’s soft smile before the coll, aloof demeanour covers it again. Next is the doctor, she winks and gives me a thumbs up, a thanks for the wine I gave her. Then is the child genius, then the tiger, who looks like he’s going to pee himself, then Kenji. I actually like Kenji, he says “Hey Executive Cool-hat-san!” I have to smile. Next is Kyouka, Kouyou looks longingly at her, like a mother missing her daughter. Where is Osamu???

Last Glasses man comes in and behind him Osamu strolls casually in, and takes his seat. To the untrained eyes his expression is similar to Mori’s, cool, aloof. To me he looks beautiful as usual, but sick. And he hasn’t noticed me yet. Probably because he’s so focused on his facade.This is him actually trying to appear bored and uninterested.

I clear my throat.

He sees me.

He slips.

Just a little, barely a centimetre.

But I know, I can see.

His eyes widen in surprise and they’re alight, a sliver of sparkle in the corner, a glassy reflection indicating fever. I watch his shoulders sag, almost invisible, in relife. His skin is a few shades paler, and he plays off a shiver as an adjustment of his shoulders.

Damn it!

I knew this would happen. Whenever I’m gone he hardly eats or sleeps (as if he eats or sleeps much when I am here).

He looks awful, how has no one noticed? I have to get him out of here, but how, it’s such a small room with so few people I can’t exactly slip him out the backdoor.

He looks at me, his eyes begging me for comfort.

I look at him telling him, with my eyes, to ask the president if he can leave or something. He shakes his head.

Oh fuck this!

If they’re letting them suffer then, I’m going to make a scene, so help me god.

“Which one of you is responsible for this?” I stand up and point to my husband

People move aside in shock.

“Whatever do you mean, Chuuya-san? You knew that your Partner would be here, did you not.” Mori speaks quietly, calmly, sweetly. He can tell Osamu is ill, just as I can and has decided to make my job easier. He may be an ass but he’s a good boss.

“Don’t you mean ex-partner?” Koyou raises an eyebrow at Mori, not understanding what he’s doing.

“No, I meant exactly what I said.” Mori smiles innocently, his gaze on his own husband.

“Partner?” Glasses man’s voice squeaks and his face pales as he tries to maintain composure. “In what way?” he asks, clearly forcing himself to be calmer now.

I’m still too mad to really answer him. “That doesn’t matter, how long has he been ill?”

“Ill?” Glasses man asks confused

“Yeah, can’t you idiots see!”

“I assure you, Executive Nakahara, he is perfectly fine.”

It annoys me even further not being called by my married name, though I hardly expect him to know it. I walk up to the idealist, grabbing his collar “Fine? FINE?? He—”

A weight settles against me. I look down, and catch Osamu before he slides to the floor. He’s fainted.

I look at the blond, who looks as shocked as if a pink elephant has pranced its way into the room, and rage boils in my blood rising up to the surface, just beneath my skin.

I grab his hand, with much more force than is necessary, and force it against Osamu’s forehead.

“Feel that? He has a fever. It’s so fucking obvious, how can you call yourselves detectives?”

“Oh, so he really wasn’t lying.” I hear the doctor whisper, she sounds incredulous.

“Lying?” I’m confused at first and then I get it, “HE TRIED TO TELL YOU!”

“Please calm down.” Glasses man’s voice is almost erased by fear

“NO, I DON'T THINK I WILL!”

“You must understand why we didn’t believe him.” The blond is afraid for his life, as he should be.

“I. Don’t. Care.” I make my voice quite, precise, deadly as I let go of him. He falls off balance and stumbles to the floor.

“Come on, Osmau, we’re going home.”

His eyes open a little bit, “Mnn, Chuu?” he groans, “m’ gonna be sick.”

Shit! I grab a bin and put it under his chin, and help him down to the floor, just in time. As he empties his stomach I rub his back gently, whispering sweet nothings. I can tell he’s suffering, he hates being in pain.

“It’s alright, it’s okay, Osamu, you’re gonna be okay, baby.”

I know I probably shouldn’t be letting these people know I have a softer side but at this point I couldn’t care less.

When he’s finished I hold him against me protectively and turn back to the detectives.

“Listen to me very closely.” I step closer, “He may be an annoying asshole liar but he wouldn’t lie about this. Next time, believe him, or you’ll be hearing from me.

With that I take my husband and leave the amused port mafia members and shocked detectives behind.

The mackerel is asleep before I even get to my car. I thank the gods I brought it and not my motorbike.

—

When we get inside Osamu pukes again, this is going to be a long next few days.

EPILOGUE: Author P.O.V.

It’s safe to say that the A.D.A is thoroughly shook. You could hear the yelling from the next town over.

Meanwhile the two leaders of the organisations are smiling bemused at their subordinated shenanigans, both mentally deciding what they should have for dinner since they skipped lunch for this meeting.

The fight ends when Kunikida passes out from shock after Kuoyou tells him how long soukoku has been together.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #soukoku #bsd #dazai osamu #port mafia #dazai chuuya - nee nakahara #fukumori #soukoku relationship reveal #soukoku sickfic #soukoku hurt/comfort

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whoblewboobear · 2 months

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Aelwyn being the one to comfort Porter after he and Jace break up and he physically can’t leave Leviathan to make things right makes me so 🤧💖 when she’s not making his life hell at the compass points, she truly might be the only friend he has. Ayda doesn’t care if he lives or dies and that’s so funny to me.

She’s like “your shift starts at 7, please stop crying and shelve the books. My dad and my girlfriend gave me permission to kill you if you don’t shelve the books.” And Porter and is just 🥺

#Porter babe you can cry and shelve the books it’s okay #Ayda hates that he keeps getting the pages wet but most pirates do anyway so she doesn’t say anything #no but in all seriousness writing the aelwyn comforts Porter scene fixed something in me bc it was about trauma #she’s just telling him to give Jace some space but in way that just 💖 she’s been there she’s hurt people and she’s come out the other end #she got lucky that a lot of people forgave her but maybe some didn’t and maybe there are still moments where things don’t feel okay #aelwyn makes Porter an honarary member of the reformed villain squad as a treat #port 🛥️#blewbs fic tag #fic ramblings #porter cliffbreaker

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burningflamescurse · 2 years

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“Please wake up.”

Chuuya Nakahara x Fem!OC

Summary: After one of the port mafia’s most valuable members gets caught in the crossfire of a battle between the port mafia and a Rival Group, Chuuya finds himself wondering if his beloved Hayami will awaken.

TW: Severe injuries associated with an explosion,brain injuries, unknown doctor by the name of Haruka.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When the explosion had first happened, no one knew it was from a hospital the port mafia owned, where Hayami was working at that moment. Until Mori had Gotten a Call that it was that hospital that had gotten blown up, from Hayami herself before she passed out, Haruka was one of the doctors who worked underneath Hayami’s Command, she had ordered, from underneath Mori’s own orders, to have her transferred to the Port mafia’s base.

Of Course the Dean of medicine at that hospital had no choice but to obey her Orders, chuuya himself, as the significant other of Hayami, was worried sick once she was transported by helicopter to the headquarters. The condition she was in was horrible, multiple gashes and wounds covered her body, a Clear head injury, a Open Gash on the back of her head, her Right wrist was broken along with her left arm, and a Clear open Gash on her abdomen.

Haruka began barking orders to everyone in the infirmary, most of the nurses and medics were working in that hospital to help other injured Port mafia members so the people in the room, Mori, Higuchi, Chuuya, and akutagawa would have to do for now.

Mori being a physician as well helped a lot, “I need an IV to be started, left inner arm, fluids hooked up along with blood, just Enough to supply here until I find where she’s bleeding out from.” Haruka said, Chuuya Couldn’t just stand there doing nothing so he helped Mori Grab the supplies she needed.

After an IV was Started, and Heart Rate monitor stickers were placed over her Chest, Haruka Stared in shock, scans were also taken, Chuuya’s blue eyes stared into Haruka’s own golden ones. Haruka turned to both Chuuya and Mori, who had a Pointed look on his face. “Due to her healing ability, it’s trying to heal her while she’s actively bleeding out into her chest, luckily it’s an easy fix, I can place a chest tube in to drain all the blood out, and allow her ability to heal her internal wounds, for her external wounds we will need to patch them up as best we can and then allow her body to rest.” Haruka Explained.

Chuuya nodded, his blue eyes look over the tubes Entering her body, Akutagawa was standing Right next to Hayami’s still body, “Akutagawa.” Haruka called, he moved his Eyes up towards the doctor. “I need you to hold her Still, she might moved when I shove this chest tube in.” Haruka said.

Akutagawa nodded, placing both his hands on her shoulder and Side, Mori had a Scalpel on hand, handing it to Haruka, Who made a Small one inch incision on her side, before taking the chest tube and shoving it in there as fast as she could. A Small Groan Sounded from her as Haruka did this, luckily Akutagawa held her still as she finished.

“There, see? Her pressure is already Stabilizing, and her heart Rate is back to Normal.” Haruka said, Proud of her work, “Now, I will have to go and Check on the Port mafia Members in the hospital that was involved in the Explosion, Though Mori I think I can trust you to finish patching up one of your Star port mafia executives?” Haruka Said, with a raise of her Eyebrow, a Placent Smirk present on her face.

Mori nodded, “Of Course, No need to worry dear.” Mori Said, his Tone Calm and Soft. Haruka nodded, placing a Gentle hand on chuuya’s shoulder before taking her leave.

Mori then began to Patch up her External wounds, the few gashes on her side, and Stitching up the gash on the back of her head as well.

When he finished, he smiled, obviously proud of his work, “Now then, all she needs is rest.” Mori quite obviously Stated, Chuuya let out a breath, “Thank you all.” He Muttered out. “Of Course Chuuya–San, she is My best friend after all.” Higuchi Said.

Akutagawa gave a solemn Nod as well, he Looked up to Hayami as a mentor in Dazai’s Absence as a good one. “I doubt Haruka is not going to check on her tomorrow, Though I am guessing that your going to stay in here with her until she awakens, Chuuya?” Mori Asked.

Chuuya only Nodded, she had gotten harmed by only trying to help heal her fellow port mafia Subordinates. He wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

Mori nodded before Gesturing to everyone else, “Let’s leave them here for now, we all have a war to finish with this enemy organization.” Mori Ordered, leaving along with the others.

Chuuya only looked down at his partner, kissing her on the head Whispering only three words, “Please wake up.”

#chuuya x oc #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bunguo stray dogs #chuuya comfort #chuuya fluff #chuuya hurt/comfort #chuuya my beloved #chuuya x reader #port mafia #hurt/comfort

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aria-lotus · 7 months

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So I figured I would post stuff here as well as on my AO3. These should only be posted on this page and my AO3 Aria_Lotus. Hope you all enjoy!

Dazai sits on the couch and stares at the ceiling in silence, the wind ruffling his hair. You walk into the room and pass by him. He turns his face to you gently and speaks calmly.

"Hey. How are you doing today?" He asks and smiles at you slightly, though it doesn't really reach his eyes. You sigh, sitting on the couch next to him, exhaustion setting in. You look over at him with a smile that mirrors his.

"Probably about the same as you, I would assume..." You mumble out softly, leaning into his side and resting your head on his shoulder. There is a moment of silence before you speak again. "I don't know how you do it Osamu... I really don't."

Dazai chuckles softly and strokes your hair gently. "I have a secret, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else, okay?"

Relaxing, you chuckle giving a slight nod. "I promise. Let's hear it."

His expression becomes serious again as he leans closer to you. "Well... let's see if I can explain this one properly." He opens his mouth but pauses. For a moment his facade falls completely. He quickly snaps out of it, pulling a fake smile onto his face. "The truth is... I'm actually quite good at reading people. So much so that sometimes even other Port Mafia members trust me enough to share their secrets with me."

You poke his cheek, cuddling closer into his side and getting comfortable. You pretend not to notice the cracks forming in the mask he's worn for years. Knowing already what the secret was, you smile at him with an exhausted but genuine smile. "I already know that Osamu. You may fool everybody else but you don't fool me. I can see right through your mask."

Dazai laughs quietly before hugging you tightly against himself. "That sounds like something only someone close to me could say." He pauses again, thinking over the years. "Thank you for always being here." It comes out barely above a whisper. His tone tells you how far away his mind really is right now. The chasm between both of you widens with every second that passes despite literally being pressed against each other.

"Now then," he says, snapping back to the present and speaking as if words could change the future you both know is coming. "What should we talk about instead? Do you want some tea or coffee? Or maybe something stronger?"

You watch the gears turning behind his eyes as you both sit on the couch in the abandoned building. "Can we just stay like this for a while? I already know what you're planning. I just want to remember this..."

Dazai smiles softly at how content you look sitting there cuddled up to him. His heart aches, knowing what comes next. He decides to stay quiet for now, enjoying the peaceful moment between the two of you. You sit there like that for a long time, soaking up as much of his presence as you can.

After several minutes Dazai finally speaks up once more. "I'm sorry..." He sighs deeply before continuing. "It feels nice having someone here with me tonight. It makes everything seem brighter somehow. Even though things may be tough, sometimes having someone by my side helps keep me grounded."

Opening your eyes, you sigh silently. "We are too young to be feeling this kind of tired..."

Dazai laughs brokenly at your comment, feeling your exhaustion through the bond you share. "Ah but maybe the tiredness we feel now is the kind that comes from living life to its fullest..." He trails off, his own emotions threatening to swallow him whole.

You shake your head knowing he is trying to convince you both that his statement is true. "No Osamu... It's not... We both know it... It's the kind of tiredness you feel when you've hit rock bottom only to realize that there is still deeper to fall... We are the bad kind of tired... You and I both know that..."

He frowns slightly at your comment, understanding the bitterness that underlies your words. "You're right. We are certainly not the type to rest easy. Regardless of our circumstances... I'm glad we're here together. I don't know what I'd do without you... What I would have done without you..."

You nod, already knowing. The bitter cold seeped into your bones as the end drew closer. "I will always be in your corner, Osamu. No matter what." You know the message came across loud and clear when he looked at you sadly, then looked back up at the ceiling.

His face softens again and he smiles warmly at you with a genuine, broken smile. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you." He closes his eyes and rests against you for a moment before opening them again. "...You know, I was thinking about something earlier... And I wanted to ask you..."

"Hmmm?" You hum in question not having the heart to speak.He sighs quietly as he continues speaking. "Do you ever wish you could have more than one person by your side? More than just one close friend or family member? Or maybe even lovers? Because sometimes I wonder how wonderful it would be to experience such things," he says looking down at you so lovingly but also so sad.

You think about it for a moment. His mind is on Chuuya. You nod, returning his look of love and loss, understanding entirely in that moment. "It would be nice, wouldn't it?"

He nods, eyes going blank. "I think so. To have people who love and understand you completely. Who are there for you through the good and the bad. Who would laugh with you and cry with you and hold you tight whenever you need it..."

You nod, your response coming out softly. "It's a beautiful thing..." Your mind drifts a bit to the memories the three of you shared.

"Is there someone in particular you're thinking of?" He asks already knowing.

You smile softly, eyes clouding over to seek comfort in your memories. "You... Chuuya..." You look up at him softly, tears welling up in your eyes as you continue. "It will always be you guys. Forever."

He gently caresses your cheek understanding. "That makes me happy. We've been together for so long now. Many memories together." A small tear rolls down his eye as he looks away. "Sorry it had to end this way. I'm so sorry."

He is silent but you can feel the sobs wracking his body. "Can I kiss you? One last time. Please?" His voice shakes as a sob wretches from his throat.

You nod quitely and he leans forward, gently kissing you on the lips. The feeling of his lips pressing against yours sends shivers down your spine. As he pulls back he stares deeply into your eyes.

His eyes are blank yet the light that is now glimmering in them is unmistakable and completely new. It grows as he speaks "Thank you. For everything."

You nod a single tear rolling down your cheek. "You're... leaving tonight... aren't you?" The question rolls off your tongue before you can stop it. You already know the answer. You knew from the moment Oda died that this was coming.

"Yes. I am. I apologize for not telling you sooner but I didn't want to burden you with my problems." You shake your head. "I've known for a while. Since Oda... I just thought we would have a bit more time... that's all..." His expression turns sad again but that light in his eyes doesn't fade. "No matter what happens next know that I'll never forget. And... if ever you need anything from me... don't hesitate to ask..." He hesitates before looking you in the eyes. "Promise me". He holds out his hand expectantly, pinky out. "Swear to whatever god watches over wretched souls like ours."

You speak softly, your response barely above a whisper. "I swear." You push his hand aside and hug him tightly to your heavy chest. "Be safe Osamu. Please always be safe."

He nods his voice just as quiet as yours. "Thank you. I promise."

You wanted to tell him so much but you know you're out of time so you stay quiet hugging him tightly.

He hugs you back, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Don't cry for me, okay? Just live your own life and be happy. That's all I ask." He stands with that last statement and turns toward the door.

You watch him leave, knowing you won't see him again any time soon. Your chest aches, but deep down you know it is for the best. Osamu Dazia is no longer Port Mafia material. "I will always love you, Osamu." You whisper into the dark, now empty room, looking at the spot he used to stand.

Osamu now stands outside the abandoned building that holds you. He looks back one last time before disappearing into the trees and night around him.

The hinged door finally closes and the lights go off. The room remains silent, save for the sound of the rain outside. You sigh, sitting in the dark alone for hours. Your phone starts ringing and you check the screen. Hundreds of missed texts and calls from Chuuya and Ryunosuke. You set it down and watch your phone as it sits on the table in front of you and finally, for the first time in years, cry. Everything is too much right now.

Osamu materializes in the room, standing behind you. He places a hand on your shoulder trying to comfort you. Feeling pressure on your shoulder and smelling Dazai's scent, you shoot up, turning around to see nothing. You swear that it was Dazai who was just there but there is nobody.

You grab your phone looking at all the texts from Chuuya and Ryunosuke, stopping on one in particular from Chuuya.

'Dazai is gone.'

You knew that already.

I'm still here. I'll always be here. Dazai appears directly in front of you, tears streaming down his face. He grabs both of your hands and looks into your eyes. You'll never be alone okay? I'll always be here watching over you.

You look at the ghost of Dazai and laugh tears streaming down your face. "I am being haunted by the ghost of a man who is still alive. What fucking irony."

You watch the Osamu in front of you fade slowly out of existence, knowing that this him isn't real. The real Osamu is in hiding. The real Dazai is not here. The real Osamu Dazai is long gone. He has been since Oda died.

His voice becomes softer and gentler as if speaking to someone precious as he slowly fades. It's alright...you're safe now... Then suddenly he fades away completely, leaving only silence in the room.

You grab your phone, leaving the abandoned building. Turning, you light a match and flick it into the building and watch as it burns to the ground, covering his tracks. This is the last time you'll be covering his tracks for him. The revelation leaves you spiraling as you turn, walking away to your apartment knowing that Chuuya and Ryunosuke need you right now.

The fire spreads quickly, engulfing everything within seconds. As soon as the last bit of smoke clears, there is nothing left except ash and cinders. All traces of Dazai have vanished. There are no witnesses or evidence left behind. It seems like every single thing has been erased from existence.

"I will keep your silence for you, Osamu." You whisper into the night.

Slowly, you make your way to your apartment. You see Chuuya and Ryunosuke both sitting outside, looking just as broken and defeated.

"Hey..." You barely recognize your own voice when you croak out a greeting. It's barely above a whisper, heavy and tired, dripping with sorrow.

Chuuya and Ryunosuke slowly rise up to their feet when they hear you speak. They immediately embrace you tightly. Their bodies shake violently as they cry uncontrollably. You hug them both, pulling them close. This is not fair to them, but you already know that. You knew it never would be. This would scar their hearts just as much as it did yours.

You pull them into your apartment, locking the door behind you as you all collapse on the floor sobbing; broken souls seeking refuge in each other. You hold each other tightly, feeling the warmth and safety of each other's presence. It feels like the only thing holding you together. Time seems to stand still as you cry into each other's shoulders. Your tears mix with each other's, creating a river of sorrow that seems to flow endlessly.

You know things will eventually be alright. Time, after all, heals all wounds to some extent. It would just take time. That's what you keep telling yourself anyway. After what feels like hours, but was probably less than 10 minutes, you finally calm down enough to talk again.

You look at Chuuya and Ryunosuke, who are also calming down now. The three of you sit silently, staring off into space, lost in thought. Eventually you break the silence, speaking first. "He's gone..." You whisper, knowing immediately that these were the wrong words as you all breakdown again. It will probably be years before any of you are alright.

Ryunosuke breaks down completely, falling onto the ground and crying loudly, clutching his already bad lungs. Chuuya holds him closely, trying to comfort him while also trying to comfort himself. After several moments of this Chuuya speaks trying to be strong. "I'm so sorry!"

You break hearing him speak between whimpers and deep breaths. "I couldn't make him stay." You cry out, falling into yourself. Shaking sobs leaving your throat loudly as you ugly cry, completely crumbling.

Chuuya looks over at you and sees how much pain you're going through. Seeing your suffering makes him feel even worse for having caused it. He reaches out and grabs your hand gently pulling you closer. "It's okay. It's okay." He whispers softly on repeat, trying to convince himself. His voice sounds weak and tired like he is seconds away from breaking.

You cling to the two men, all of you broken. A week, maybe two is all the time you will have off. You all know. The Port Mafia is a very consuming organization.

The three of you spend your days together recovering from your grief. Most of the free time is spent talking about Dazai or reminiscing about happier times.

"We should get something to eat..." Chuuya says after a long night of talking. "Starving ourselves won't do anything..."

"Yeah." Ryunosuke agrees quietly.

Chuuya walks towards the kitchen to start cooking some dinner. Ryunosuke sits on the couch, staring blankly ahead and not really caring what happens next.

As the days go on, you all slowly get better. The three of you return to work and fall back into routine. Ryunosuke eventually goes back home to his apartment with his sister instead of staying at your place every night for comfort. Chuuya takes longer, but he also eventually returns to his penthouse instead of spending nights at your place.

Chuuya sits on the couch in his penthouse, flipping through channels on the TV. He hadn't really slept much the past few days since returning home, feeling restless and empty.

You sit in your own home, alone. The walls feel like they are closing in around you. You haven't slept in days and hardly eat but you keep moving forward on autopilot. Days turn to weeks. Weeks turn to months. Months turn to years. Before you even realize it, 3 years have passed since Osamu Dazai left the Port Mafia.

Chuuya and Ryunosuke have both healed as much as they are going to. Both of them are bitter and angry. Dazai's presence is felt whenever someone speaks about him.

His absence weighs heavily on all of your hearts and every word about him is tainted with a bittersweet nostalgia. The three of you have grown stronger and wiser, but deep inside all three of you is a part of your hearts that will always be in mourning for Osamu Dazai.

You are walking home from the store when you see him for the first time since that day. Osamu Dazai is walking down the street, talking with a silver haired boy and a blond man with glasses. Your eyes focus on him immediately, assessing him. He looks good. Happier. He is smiling and laughing and there is an aura around him that exudes an energy of content. You freeze, the air expelled from your lungs as you watch him with the two other men.

Dazai turns around and sees you. You can see him freeze, his heart probably racing with a mix of emotions. He hesitates to approach you, not sure what to expect. He hasn't seen you in 3 years and he wonders what you might have to say. Do you hate him now? Are you upset? Do you even want to see him? You can read him like an open book. Just like back then. Nothing has changed.

Smiling softly at him, you give him a small wave and a thumbs up. He was alright. He had found some peace after Oda died. A kind of peace he would never have been able to achieve in the Port Mafia.

His face lights up upon seeing your gesture and he smiles widely with relief flooding his eyes and demeanor before approaching.

"It's been too long!" He exclaims happily reaching out to give you a hug. "How've you been?" he asks while holding onto you tightly, tears forming in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

You hug him without answering, breathing in his scent deeply. Even that had changed. He no longer smelled of blood, gunpowder, and liquor. He smelled of coffee, hazelnut, and amber. It suited this new him.

His two friends had stopped walking and were watching the two of you, confused.

You cry into him, feeling like your soul has finally returned home. As soon as you start crying, he speaks softly. "Shhh..." he whispers, gently rubbing your back soothingly. "There there..." he says quietly, trying to comfort you by letting go of you so that he could wipe away your tears. "Everything will be fine now."

You laugh softly, inhaling his scent and smiling up at him. "You smell different. Its nice. Coffee, hazelnut, and amber. It suits you much more." Sniffle you try to compose yourself.

Dazai chuckles lightly and looks down at you with a warm smile on his face. "Thanks for noticing. You're always so observant." He replies teasingly.

"What do you think about me? Do you still hate me?" He asks teasingly, but the undertone tells you he is anything but joking.

You hug him tighter. "I could never hate you Osamu. I didn't back then and I don't now." You whisper to him. His friends watch you, still confused. "I'm always in your corner Osamu. No matter what."

You give him the same promise from the day he left. You know he recognizes the promise when you feel him shake slightly, hugging you tighter. He nods his head in acknowledgement of your statement, holding you tightly. "I know. And that means everything to me. I know I am not an easy person to love but... Thank you for loving me anyway." He whispers to you with a small smile playing on his lips.

You smile, pulling him closer. "I will always love you, Osamu."

His two friends are in shock, probably never having seen Dazai so vulnerable that he would tear up or cry. Dazai smiles at you warmly, his cheeks still lightly glistening from the tears that had fallen. He knew without a doubt that he still loved you, even after all this time. You were someone who could see past all of his flaws and still love him with all of your heart.

"Thank you. For loving me despite everything." You smile at him with tears in your eyes. "Until the sun dies." The statement falls from your lips as easily as breathing. The promise you had been making to each other since the beginning. You both knew what it meant.

His smile brightens as he looks up at you. He is both amazed and humbled by your love and commitment. He is shaken to his core that you would remember that promise, especially after the past three years; the hell he had left you to erode in while he was freed.

"Until the sun dies," he says softly, his heart splintering from emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. You see tears fill his eyes and pull him close, holding him as he cries. He sniffles and hugs you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He can't believe that someone could love him so much. He knew he was broken and flawed more than most, and yet here you were. "I love you... so much."

"I know Osamu. I love you, too. So so so much."

You hold him, allowing him to cry all he needs and he continues crying quietly as he holds onto you. You can feel his body shaking as he cries out loud, having no idea how to process this new revelation.

"...I'm sorry..." he finally manages to say between sobs.

"I know, love. It's alright. I forgave you before you even left. Just let it out. I'm here." You comfort him for the first time in years.

Both of you can feel the clouds in your hearts dissipating as the light finally breaks through. His friends approach you both slowly, unsure of the situation. He clings onto you tightly, finally being able to fully express the weight of his emotions. He had never felt this safe and loved before. He cries for a long time, letting it all out as you hold him, comforting him. Soft whispers fall from your lips as you caress his back and hair, keeping him safe and grounded in his moment of weakness. You allow him to feel what he needs to feel.

His two friends seem like they want to speak, but don't. After several minutes of sobbing, Dazai calms down enough to look around again. The two friends of his are still staring awkwardly while trying not to stare too hard. They're clearly uncomfortable with seeing Dazai break down like this, neither of them ever seeing Dazai genuinely show an emotional reaction like this. Neither one of them dare interrupt or ask any questions.

"Feel a bit better, love?" You wipe away his tears gently, moving slowly to not startle him. You recognize the fragile state he is in, having seen it before. You smile softly at him, keeping him safe.

"Yeah... Yeah I do..." He looks up at you. Your kindness makes him feel more comfortable. Your soft touch on his face makes him sigh contently.

You have always been such a kind person. He smiles at you, feeling less scared and vulnerable now that he knows you won't judge him. You haven't changed, he notes a small, genuine, soft smile falling onto his face as he feels the sun rise in his soul for the first time in years. He has you back. His sun. His soul. You are after all still the sun in his eyes. "Until the sun dies." He whispers the promise again, a desperate prayer set deep in his soul. One reaching out to any that would listen to a broken damaged soul. A plea. May the sun never die.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd akutagawa #dazai leaving the port mafia #bittersweet ending #reunited with dazai #hurt/comfort

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casper-perry · 10 months

Text

I'll Always Come for Chuuya

author:

Anonymous

summary:

A memory comes to him; in the dark as they lay in bed, a small whisper between their faces, a secret moment, Promise Chuuya won't ever use Corruption when I'm not there?

What if you're not there and I have no choice? Chuuya asked.

Chuuya has to wait for me. I don't care what's happening. Chuuya has to wait.

Chuuya stares down at his screen, hidden again behind some debri. There is still no response. His hand tightens around it, tremulous. He had to have seen it by now. Dazai's phone is always in his pocket.

Shit. Does he really not give a damn anymore?

He remembers a small smile, eyes gentle and deep and dark. I'll always come for Chuuya.

Liar.

______

Dazai has been distant with Chuuya these days, seeming to have grown bored of him and has been spending more and more time with Oda Sakunosuke. This sudden rift has consequences, and Chuuya will be the one to bear it.

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sky-drgn · 2 years

Text

How Dazai Adopted Baki

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 743

Warnings: Vague mention of panic and dissociation

Big thanks to @blake-elladonna for helping me edit and editing the banner ^-^

It was a dark rainy day… or night. Dazai doesn’t know. All he knows is that his bandages are heavy with rain and his clothes are soaked through. Dazai hates the rain. It forces him to change his bandages and wash his clothes; but thankfully it allows him to go out and get supplies. A year and a half out of the Port Mafia and at least another half a year until he can come out from hiding.

Dazai doesn’t know how long he’d been out of his safe house. Over an hour he’d assume judging how waterlogged he is. What he doesn’t know is how long he’s been sitting in an alleyway, a small cat at his feet meowing at him. A flash of seeing someone who he knows is gone now. Of thinking he saw people he left behind. It didn’t do well for him at all. He remembers his breathing picking up and he remembers playing with his bandages, but it goes fuzzy after that. The cat pawing and meowing at him, helped to bring him back to reality.

Dazai blinked a few times - then moved his hand out to allow the cat to sniff it. Unlike dogs, Dazai happened to like cats. He wasn’t sure what it was about cats that he found better, it didn’t really matter to him though.

The small cat pounced onto Dazai as soon as they saw the chance. Small muddy paw prints polka-dotting his shirt as the cat cuddled up to his chest and under his neck for warmth. Unfortunately for both of them, Dazai was completely soaked so he wasn’t very warm. The lack of exposed skin didn’t help either.

Dazai couldn’t bring himself to push the cat away. Cats and water don’t mix, so he knew the cat was a stray. He could stay here and keep the small animal safe for a while. The kitten was still cold and didn’t stop meowing. Dazai didn’t mind, it was something to focus on.

“Excuse me.”

Dazai’s head snapped up at the sound. He was ready to abandon the cat and run. He couldn’t be caught. Not by the police, not by the mafia, not by anyone.

“Are you two okay?”

Two? Dazai was the only one here, minus the cat.

“I’m a vet. Your kitten shouldn’t be out here in the rain like this. Why don’t you two come inside my office? I’ll look over your cat for you and give you both shelter. We’re just outside the building.”

Dazai, still not sure what to do, simply got up and handed the older woman the cat. “It’s not mine. The thing just came up to me.” His voice was a little horse, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. He tried to pass the woman and go about his way. He needed supplies and to get back into hiding as soon as possible.

"That's a shame, it looks like the kitten chose you. They can be quiet fickle when it comes to trusting humans." The cat seemingly tried to reach out to Dazai; the former mafioso saw this and was extremely surprised. Something was telling him not to abandon the cat so easily. "Why don't you come inside for now. The rain is only going to get heavier."

In the clinic, Dazai sat in the treatment room, towels wrapped around his entire body. He watched the vet examine the small animal. The staff had managed to give the kitten a bath and when drying them, discovered the orange - male - kitten underneath the muck.

“He seems to be under a year given his size, and I’m updating him on his shots. Everything else seems to be okay. Do you want to name him?” The unsaid question: do you want to keep him?

The bandaged man really shouldn’t be taking care of a cat. He’s supposed to be underground. He’s not supposed to be out. But he finds himself wanting the young cat. “Baki. His name is Baki.”

“Baki. That’s a good name.”

Hours later, Dazai found himself drier and with a list of recommended things to take care of Baki. The vet had given him some food and other supplies from the donation pile meant for situations like this, but Dazai wanted to get the best for his Baki.

They were allowed to stay for awhile as the rain let up, then they ventured out. The two of them up against the world.

#dazai osamu #bsd dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #Dazai adopts a cat #osamu dazai #port mafia dazai #bsd #Dazai has a cat #someone hug Dazai #hurt/comfort #dazai 🥰🥰🥰#short story #sky's writing ⛅

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inu-mothership · 1 year

Text

Inu-Mothership Fleet Week 2023: Day 5: Friday, May 26

Day 5 Prompts:

Port: Hurt/Comfort

Starboard: Betrayal

Today is a day for pain. Will it be healed? That’s up to you.

#inu mothership #inu fleet week 2023 #mothership fleet week #inuyasha fleet week #fleetweek2023 #fleet week 2023 #may 22 28 2023 #day 5: friday may 26 #port: hurt/comfort #starboard: betrayal #which side will you choose?

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osarina · 6 months

Text

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking.

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side.

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics.

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction.

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk.

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately.

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?”

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you.

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk.

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there.

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is.

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge.

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt.

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple.

He smiles.

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route.

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants.

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is.

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to.

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest.

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.”

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him.

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs.

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent.

God, he’s gorgeous.

You hate him.

You’ve missed him.

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can.

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs.

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips.

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.”

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago.

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective.

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?”

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions.

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him.

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace.

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time.

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying.

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch.

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist.

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs.

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did.

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work.

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk.

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek.

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes.

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for Christmas because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything.

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t.

“I know,” he murmurs.

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly.

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses.

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu smut #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you

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mcflymemes · 2 months

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PROMPTS FOR FEELING SAFE / EXPRESSING COMFORT * assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary, send "reverse" for the reversal of action prompts. suggested by judgementdaysunshine

DIALOGUE PROMPTS

i haven't felt like this in a very long time.

i wanted to thank you for protecting me back there.

you stepped in when you didn't need to.

for once in my life, i feel safe.

this place gives me a good feeling.

i feel safe in your arms.

it's been a while since i slept through the night without any nightmares.

i could get used to this.

i won't let anything happen to you.

you make me feel safe.

you didn't have to step in and help me, but you did, and i appreciate that.

no one's ever stood up for me like that before.

my whole life has been filled with conflict and pain. not anymore.

maybe i'll finally know peace with you.

we deserve an easy life.

you're my port in the storm.

i can't tell you the last time i actually felt safe.

you know me. i don't let my guard down for just anyone.

something changed to make me feel this way.

you're safe here with me.

they won't come after you, and if they do? they'll have to go through me.

it feels nice, being here with you.

you make me feel like i can accomplish anything.

i can be myself with you.

we're looking out for you.

you won't judge me for the things i say.

just stay here a while, if you don't mind.

so this is what safety feels like.

i can finally breathe again.

nothing can touch you while i'm here.

you can go back to sleep. it's safe.

no one will hurt you anymore.

my life is in your hands.

promise me you won't abandon me?

i'll be right here when you wake up.

you taught me how to protect myself.

ACTION PROMPTS

[ lean ] sender slowly leans into receiver's shoulder and rests there for a while

[ sleep ] sender manages to fall asleep in receiver's presence

[ snuggle ] sender snuggles closer to receiver as they sleep

[ reach ] sender reaches for receiver in their sleep

[ shelter ] sender uses their body to shield receiver from danger

[ seek ] sender seeks out receiver for a protective hug

[ choose ] sender has plenty of options on where to sit in a crowded space, but chooses to sit directly beside receiver

[ reassurance ] in a tense moment, sender takes one of receiver's hands to hold

[ stay here ] sender guides receiver to a safe place and tells them to wait there while they deal with a problem

[ interrupt ] sender stops a confrontation between receiver and someone else, stepping between them and coming to receiver's defense

[ home ] sender shows receiver their new home

[ nightmare ] sender comforts receiver after they wake up from a nightmare

#thank you @judgementdaysunshine for the request!#rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #rp starters #roleplay prompt #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

2K notes · View notes

kentopedia · 5 months

Text

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold.

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity.

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants.

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards.

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding.

he can feel the man swallowing.

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well.

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand.

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you.

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity.

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you.

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them.

limply, they fall to the floor.

chuuya rushes over to you.

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it.

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing.

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?”

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?”

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either.

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.”

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.”

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones.

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.”

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.”

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later.

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.”

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off.

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him.

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage.

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course.

but you… you’re different.

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.”

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own.

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable.

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you.

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow.

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy.

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets.

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found.

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain.

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him.

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain.

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding.

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips.

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you.

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads.

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.”

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?”

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.”

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken.

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word.

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you.

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies.

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest.

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well.

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating.

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe.

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend.

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.”

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation.

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you.

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation.

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own.

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed.

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive.

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them.

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall.

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive.

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes.

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats.

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile.

dazai hums. “you the leader?”

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you.

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all.

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him.

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become.

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple.

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.”

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.”

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?”

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.”

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

2K notes · View notes

cafterdark · 8 months

Text

Posted 16:35, 12/5 to r/puppyplay

How do I get used to nerve integrating tail

So my gf a few weeks ago admitted she was into puppy play. Now I'm a pretty vanilla guy so I was a bit wary, but open to try it. We've gotten a collar and leash that I wear when we play, but I just got my Christmas bonus, so we splurged on a nerve integrating tail. It feels pretty weird to have it on, but my gf is ecstatic. It certainly has brightened up our bedroom life lately. I'm still not entirely into puppy play, especially when she calls me a "good boy" but I do admit it's quite fun. My only question is how do I get used to it.

Posted 22:51, 12/17 to r/puppyplay

Is it dangerous to wear NIT for more than two weeks?

Hello again,

Thanks for all the advice y'all gave me in the last post, I'm really used to the tail now. I love the wave it wags when I'm excited and so does my gf. It has come to the point I feel like I'm missing something when I take it off. I know the general advice is not to keep it on for more than two weeks but I kind of want to keep it on. I work from home so none of my coworkers know I'm wearing it. And when I do need to go out, it's really easy to hide it under some clothes. So is there any risk to having it on for more than two weeks?

Posted 08:11, 1/7 to r/puppyplay

Skin grown over NIT port

So I just woke up and looked at my NIT and saw that skin has grown over the port. Whenever I try to take the tail off it hurts like hell. What can I do?

Posted 09:12, 1/7 to r/medicaladvice

Any way to remove an overgrown nerve integrated prosthetic?

I wore a NIP longer than the recommended time and skin has grown over it, is there any way to take it off?

Posted 18:15 1/7 to r/puppyplay

Gf is okay with permanent NIT

It's been an eventful morning for me and my gf. I told her the news that I'm stuck with a NIT from now on. I expected my gf to leave me, but she's been nothing but supportive. I'm usually not one for being the little spoon, but she cradled me and comforted me. I love her so much. Thank y'all for your kind words and support. I know it's fairly common for people to have eccentric prosthetics nowadays, but as much as I love this tail, it's going to take a while to get used to it. I'll keep y'all updated.

Posted 13:43, 2/9 to r/puppyplay

Side effects of permanent NIT?

Hey again,

So I've gotten used to the NIT being permanent, but I've been having some things happen to me that I'm wondering if they're caused by it.

To start, when I was done with a workout, my gf noticed I was panting with my tongue out. I hadn't even realized I was doing that.

Another one is that my body and facial hair have stopped growing. Not that I miss them, but it's kind of weird. Weirder still, my hair has been growing rapidly. I was starting to bald before, but now it's down to my shoulders. It's gotten so long and full that my coworkers joked that it looked more like a woman's hair.

Are these side effects of the tail or am I just losing my mind?

Posted 12:21, 3/15 to r/puppyplay

More side effects of tail?

So I know y'all said that permanent tails don't have any mental or physical side effects, but I'm not so sure.

I'm not sure when it started, but I'm starting to make more dog like noises. When I'm excited I bark up a storm, whimper when sad, growl when angry. I'm not doing any of those on purpose, it's like the rise from my throat. When I see a squirrel, I feel the urge to chase after it now. My gf has joked that she needs to collar and leash me when we go out, but I'm a bit nervous.

Speaking of my gf, I used to tower over her. Yet today, she was my height, maybe even a bit taller.

Other strange things, my nipples is a bit swollen and puffy. It really hurts to touch them.

What's happening to me?

Posted 10:23, 3/30 to r/puppyplay

Tits?

So I've been in denial for a while, but my tail is making me grow tits. I realized this when I was putting on a tight shirt and my boobs were really clearly visible. My gf nearly died when she saw them. After a bit of laughing/leering, she measured and found they're A cups. She gave me one of her bras to wear, which feels a bit itchy.

Posted 17:12, 3/31 to r/puppyplay

My tail is feminizing me

Hello again,

After looking at old photos of myself compared to me now. I'm certain my tail is feminizing me. I'm shorter than my gf, my skin is soft, I basically have no body hair, my hair is super long, I have tits, and um, my equipment is tiny now. I look better at least, but idk what to do.

Posted 15:35, 4/10 to r/asktransgender

Why does my GF calling me a "good girl" make me so excited.

So I'm a cis? guy. Due to a faulty prosthetic I'm wearing, it has slowly been feminizing me. Now, I'm having some mixed feelings about it and my gf asked if I liked being a guy. I really hadn't cared about my gender before so I said yeah. She then asked me how I felt about the phrase "good boy." When I told her it made me feel weird and awkward, she called me a good girl. I suddenly got so happy and my prosthetic went wild. My inside felt so warm and complete that I couldn't even try to hide how happy I was. What does this mean? Am I trans?

Posted 11:13, 4/19 to r/asktransgender

New Name!

After a week of introspection with my gf, I've realized I'm a trans woman. And to thank her for all the help she's done making me realize that, I let her pick my name.

So hi, I'm Bella

Posted 22:12, 4/21 to r/puppyplay

Gf acting weird

So me and my gf do a lot of puppy play and usually it stays in the bedroom. But lately it's been weird.

To start, she insists on cooking for me. It's such good food, but what's weird is that whenever I eat it, she clicks something. Weirder still, its the same click that I hear whenever I cum.

Also, she's gotten a lot more dominant lately. She's constantly telling me how cute and hot I am. How much she just wants to mark me up. She insists I wear my collar 24/7 so "Everyone knows who owns me." She even asks me to call her owner sometimes.

I get so flustered and my tail goes wild any time she acts like this but it's still weird. She never used to be this direct and dominant. I'm not against it but it's kind of weird.

Posted 16:37, 4/30 to r/asktransgender

Why do clothes feel weird?

So me and my gf have been clothes shopping for a new wardrobe lately and we've run into a brick wall. Every bit of clothes I've worn lately has felt tight and itchy. Even my old boy clothes.

Why is this?

Posted 18:15, 5/7 to r/puppyplay

Why can't I disobey my owner?

Um, so my owner has made some really big changes to my life lately. She's told me I'm not allowed to wear clothes anymore, sleep on the bed, eat on the table. She's gotten me a dog bed to sleep on and some labeled dog bowls for me to eat out of. I have to wear my collar 24/7 and whenever we go out I need to be leashed. I can't even walk on two legs anymore.

Yet I don't want to disobey her. It's not like she's abusive or anything, the opposite really. But my brain can't even think of not listening to her. Especially when I hear a click and every bit of my brain is filled with devotion to her.

What am I doing wrong, why can't I disobey her?

Posted 11:17, 6/5 to r/puppyplay

Y'all were right

Y'all were right. It's so much better being a good puppy for my owner. I don't have to worry about anything. She's so kind and sweet and wonderful and caring and ugh my tail is wagging so fast just talking about her. I'm so glad I've accepted my place. Thank you all so much for helping me realize this.

Posted 14:25, 12/5 to r/puppyplay

Gifts for a really good Puppygirl?

Hello

I'm the owner of a wonderful little puppygirl. She's had a big year of changes and I want to get her something wonderful to cap it off. Any suggestions?

#t4t lesbian #t4t ns/fw #queer nsft #t4t nsft #lesbian nsft #lesbian ns/fw #mtf ns/fw #wlw nsft #lesbian #bottomposting #puppyposting #puppy sub #bd/sm puppy #dumb puppy #transformation #hornyposting #high effort hornypost #hrt that turns you into a puppygirl #smut

2K notes · View notes

greyskyflowers · 1 month

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I'm just such a big fan of Edwin having some permanent issues after a second trip to hell and the final run in with Esther.

I like the idea that he actually has to sleep now. Nowhere near what a living human needs but more then he ever needed before. Maybe sleeping for several hours every few weeks.

Iron wounds take longer to heal, even though Edwin has always had a higher pain tolerance due to his experiences in hell.

When he's really tired, things start to hurt. Tender pain along all his joints, the spots where the demon spider found it was the easiest to tear him apart.

He get bruises under his eyes, headaches, occasionally a little chill, stiffness, and just a general aching all over his body.

It's hard for Edwin to sleep, for several reasons. Nightmares, anxiety, restlessness, and just being stubborn.

The vulnerability of sleep is terrifying.

The idea of leaving Edwin alone somewhere to sleep, even in their office, has Charles skin pickling. Especially knowing Edwin is also reluctant to sleep without him there.

So, Edwin does not sleep alone. Ever. Occasionally he gets left with Niko, and sometimes Crystal, but it's for very brief amounts of time before he's back with Charles.

It should be embarrassing to have these issues now, and it is, but they're even closer after Port Townsend and it's not something Edwin can avoid. He has to sleep now.

Really, it comes down to does he wants to keep it to himself and nap when no one else is around to avoid feeling weak? Or does he want to sleep with the comfort of knowing someone is with him and hell won't take him before he even gets a chance to wake up?

It comes down to how fearful is he of something dragging him off into hell again and the answer is apparently incredibly so.

Also, if he's going to look vulnerable and weak then it might as well be with Charles, who's seen him at his worst.

He tries not to overthink how pleased Charles is each time Edwin seeks him out for a nap or how good it feels to be held, the safest place he can think of is in Charles arms or under his sharp watch.

Charles hovers, and he's aware of it. He can't convince himself to stray too far from Edwin. Part of it's because he's protective, reluctant to leave Edwin in anyone else's hands when he's more vulnerable then before.

Part of it is selfish, he's a little possessive. A sleeping Edwin is not something anyone else needs to see. Edwin in pain is not something anyone else needs to see.

Crystal had recently demanded they have a bed available in the office for when her and Niko stayed over, even though they rarely use it. It's soft, covered in pillows and blankets, and Edwin has taken to hiding away in it when he sleeps. Crystal looks incredibly pleased when it slips that Edwin uses it and Charles is hit with a intense wave of fondness for her.

No one needs to see Edwin like this. Especially not when he loses a lot of his layers and curls up in something more comfortable. It leaves him vulnerable, his throat and wrists bare, and looking smaller without all extra clothing.

Nobody needs to see how he only really lets himself sleep when Charles is in bed with him or close enough in the room to reach out for if needed. He watches Charles do whatever it is he's doing with half lidded eyes, a strip of green that stubbornly stays visible until Charles is closer.

In the beginning they thought it was something temporary. Ghost don't need to sleep, Charles never sleeps. Sometimes he can get himself to relax enough that it's almost like sleeping but it's not anywhere near actual sleep.

They think it's just him trying to make up what Esther took.

But it keeps happening. Again and again.

And it makes them both anxious. Charles is worried about why Edwin suddenly needs to sleep but Edwin is worried about the actual sleeping part.

He does not want to sleep. Sleep means dreaming and nothing good will come from his dreams, he's sure of it.

It's also scary. Sleep is a weakness, it leaves him vulnerable and unaware. He doesn't want to sleep.

In those first few weeks where they all still thought this would pass, exhaustion caught up to him one evening as they were finishing up a long case. Charles was out and he couldn't even think about how wonderful it would be to go to go lay down because Charles was not there.

The office was too quiet. It made him restless and he would have paced but he was feeling especially sore that day. His hands had ached while he was writing and he had to stop frequently to flex them.

He was weak, alone, and rapidly sliding into a decreased mental awareness due to exhaustion. It's not a situation he liked.

They weren't apart for long those days, and still aren't, so Charles is back pretty quickly but it's long enough that Edwin was struggling. He blinked sleepily at Charles, with eyes that itched when they shouldn't have, and he must have looked terrible because Charles straightened up a little bit and his eyes jumped around the room before he relaxed.

He said something, dropped his bag and walked forward until he could put his hands on Edwin and that's it. Edwin leaned forward until he was relying on Charles to hold him up, turned his face into his neck and passed out still standing up.

It doesn't get that bad again. Charles is good about noticing when Edwin starts to slow down, and when it takes him a little longer to string his words together or explain himself. He picks up the way he carries himself different on day where things hurt a little more or how he rubs his temple when he feels a headache coming on.

He herds Edwin to bed like a sheep dog and makes sure everything is locked up so they won't be bothered. Edwin had managed to find a spell that would keep anyone else, living and none, out of their office when activated. It's perfect for extra privacy and security.

Charles hates that Edwin was hurt enough that he needs this now, and he hates seeing him wore down and exhausted... but part of him loves these days.

Edwin sleepy and soft, usually pulling Charles down with him until they're under all the blankets and pillows, tucked on their own little world.

He clings when he sleeps. He buries his face in Charles throat and under his chin like he's trying to hide, presses in as close as he can until they're completely tangled together. Not that Charles has any problem with that. He runs his fingers over skin in soothing gestures and pulls him in close if he starts to show any signs of a nightmare.

He wakes up with hair sticking up and clothes rumpled, blinking at Charles a few times as he tries to wake up enough to remember what's happening. Sometimes, Charles gets lucky and Edwin will stretch out like a cat before readjusting himself to be close again and doze off for a little longer.

It knocks the breath he doesn't need out of his lungs and love sits in his throat until it threatens to choke him.

Sometimes there are nightmares and Edwin shoves himself away desperately with a pained and fearful noise that has Charles cringing. Edwin stares at him from the other side of the bed, eyes big but unfocused in a way that shows he's not actually seeing Charles. He's tight, tense and completely locked up. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. They're both still laying down, and Charles doesn't move even though he wants to. He starts talking, low and soft, keeps doing that until Edwin starts to relax again. It's a slow process and it takes a while before Edwin is relaxed enough that Charles can reach out and coax him back closer. He's exhausted after those little episodes, too tired and his body too sore from being so tense to put up much of a fight as Charles tucks him in close again. Sometimes he's asleep before they're even settled back in, limp with sleep as Charles rearranges him in a way that won't have him aching when he wakes up.

Sometimes Charles is too wired to lay down, even if cuddling is great motivation, and he keeps himself busy while Edwin rests. Sometimes they're in the middle of a case and there's still work that needs to be done, so he does what can while until Edwin is back up and functional.

It's a powerful feeling, having Edwin trust him so much and so openly. Sometimes Charles has to check on him, the quiet and unmoving lump on the bed making him nervous until he looks him over, just to make sure everything is okay. It's hard to tell sometimes since they don't breathe like the living, and Edwin sleeps so quiet. He doesn't even flinch at Charles getting close, nothing triggering those survival instincts gained in hell that would have him awake and moving if it was anyone else this close.

God help anyone stupid enough to try something when they're like this. He'd fight anyone who disturbed them, anyone who woke Edwin up from his much needed rest or threaten to cause them harm. It burns under his skin and it makes his teeth itch.

Nothing would separate them. Nothing could take them away from each other.

#dead boy detectives #payneland #charles rowland #edwin payne #dbda #chronic pain edwin keeps me going #you know he's gotta be all fucked up from everything #plus if Esther figured out she could use him then you know there's going to be others who are going to figure it out and give it a try too #anyway #solving cases with greyskyflowers

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