#SORRY IF U SAWT HIS LAST NIGHT LOL

[nkhrchuwuya]

safety

bungou stray dogs | T | 862 words nakahara chuuya x reader/oc

chuuya catches you in the middle of a panic attack. ⚠ detailed description of an attack

you feel it in your throat first.

closing in on itself like a flower blossoming in reverse. you start to heave, an instinct to desperately try to get air back into your lungs, but there is no use. it takes five seconds for it to finally click.

there’s a clatter as you drop the mug you’re holding. a splatter of the hot coffee against the tiled kitchen floors.

you fall downward soon after.

you don’t even feel the pain of having fallen; the only thing you can feel the throbbing of your heart inside your chest. all you can hear is the sound of your shaky breaths and your heartbeat inside your ears, inside your brain, pounding like loud knocks against a locked door you can’t get out through.

“chu…uya…” you gasp, the last forming word in your mouth before the trembles begin. you curl up into a ball, knees and arms folding into yourself as it becomes hyperclear that the world is finally crumbling in on you, that the walls of the penthouse are going to crash against you, that this is all your fault.

for what seems like eternities, there is nothing. just nothing but your wordless gasping and the certainty of death hanging over your head as you shiver and shake, your brain rushing a million miles a minute trying its best to rescue you, but also ending up sabotaging any of your efforts to calm down. for a moment, it feels good. familiar. like you’ve been here before. there’s a flicker of a memory that it always passes that gives you hope, at least before the fear that this time it won’t starts to take over.

finally, a blur of red through your curtain of tears passes by your eyes, and you feel the tender touch of someone’s hand on your face, cupping your cheeks.

the person—your savior—is saying something, but you do not understand them. none of their words get to your ears. the touch of their skin against yours is so overwhelming, like a blazing fire, that you flinch backward when they try to reach your hand. they let go and all is cold again. freezing almost. you suddenly want to feel them again, but do not know how to ask. you let out a whine.

a soft sound like the shush of a wave. and then the floor falls from underneath you.

except it doesn’t; you’re not falling through the floor, you’re flying above it. your brain makes a desperate attempt to make sense of it but it finds no answers. you go from a place filled with bright white lights to one that is much darker, and when you land it is not on hard concrete floor but on something soft to the touch.

your brain focuses for a moment and you register that you’re on a bed. and that the warm, heavy, fluffy sensation surrounding your shoulders is probably your weighted blanket. clarity erupts slowly, like a fog getting cleared. the bed becomes your bed. the dark place becomes your bedroom.

the red figure kneeling next to you becomes the love of your life.

“easy,” you hear, though staticky, through your still sensitive-ears. his hand is placed on the edge of the bed like an invitation. meekly, you reach out to put your hand over it; he turns it over so he can intertwine your fingers.

it feels like an anchor.

“focus on me,” chuuya says, and you do. “breathe in… and then hold… then let go. just like that, baby, you’re doing so good. one more? breathe in… and then hold… then let go.”

you don’t know how long he guides your breaths, but you figure it’s long enough to have been straining. but he makes no complaints. eventually, after what seems like four, five cycles of the universe being reborn, your head begins to sink back into calm. your skin still feels tingly from everything, but at least your head is in place, and everything is not so loud anymore.

“you there, babe?”

you nod. “sorry, chuuya,” you say instinctively. “thank you.”

“i’m just glad you’re better.” he gets up from the side of the bed to sit next to you. you lean on his shoulder. “ya do feel better, right?”

you hum against his skin, feeling too feeble to talk. you feel him pat your head, and you sigh.

“any cause?”

“…not really.”

“s’that so. well, then i’m just glad it’s over.”

you squeeze his hand, still intertwined in yours.

chuuya once promised you that even if and because he’s part of the port mafia, he will never be afraid of fighting the monsters that haunt you. the ones that have caused you pain, and the ones who haven’t paid for their sins. he’s kept that promise for the entire time you’ve been dating. but most importantly—the monster he fights with the most is the one that rattles your head, and not once has he faltered in dealing with it with a sword’s swing from his own heart.

feeling the touch of his lips against the crown of your head, you bask, in silence, in being safe.