Archive of Our Own

Chuuya nearly kicked down her own door, rage coursing through the woman as she stomped inside her darkened apartment, not bothering to turn any lights on as she headed straight for the bathroom.

She had emergency suppressants in the back of a drawer, for canceling out unwanted heats that came on out-of-cycle, hidden behind Chuuya’s small but expensive makeup collection. She didn't need them often, her cycle an extremely regular quarter-annual event that she was largely able to schedule around, though once a couple years ago Chuuya had had a stress-heat, which is why she now reliably kept emergency suppressants stocked. They weren't enough for a normal heat, but could cancel a stress-heat within a few hours. Chuuya hoped it was the same for this.

Because this, of course, wasn't a stress-heat.

Instead, it was caused by the fact that after being missing for four years, Dazai Osamu was back. 

Really, thought an annoying voice at the back of Chuuya’s head, she should have seen this coming. Of course seeing Dazai again after all this time would send her into heat. Of course it would — but Chuuya had gone anyway, unable to stop herself when she heard who Akutagawa had captured.

Even now, she couldn’t resist. 

Angrily, Chuuya swallowed the pills dry. Fuck it. 

It would take up to six hours for the suppressants to kick in — and unfortunately, this heat wanted to come on as fast as it had suddenly. Already Chuuya was feeling feverish, and, worse still, aroused. She was sure that bitch Dazai had been able to smell it too, which was like salt in the wound. With the knowing way she looked at Chuuya, of course she had been able to smell it, maybe even before Chuuya had felt it. 

Still attuned to her omega’s heats, even after all these years. 

Chuuya should have killed her, the threat against the Port Mafia be damned. She had gotten close, honestly close, the feral rage that tried to overtake her mind just another sign of Chuuya’s heat. She wondered if Dazai could tell that, too. Would she care at all, Chuuya wondered, that her leaving had turned her into an authentic feral omega, the kind people always talked about? The kind of feral omega Dazai had always joked about her being?

A wave of heat hit Chuuya and she felt suddenly dizzy, gripping her bathroom sink to steady herself, squeezing her thighs together as she felt her cunt pulse needily. Needy for Dazai. It made her so angry, her body’s betrayal — and ever since Dazai left, she had a much harder time controlling her anger around her heat, even before she lost her mind during the event itself. Anger had always been something Chuuya struggled with, even before her hormones started acting up. Arousal and rage warred within her, and she felt her heart racing in response, adrenaline fueled and irregular as she balled up her fists, taking deep breaths and willing herself not to punch anything.

This was fine, she tried to tell herself. She had handled heats before, she had handled four years of heats without Dazai, and the suppressants would kick in sooner or later.

Chuuya swore, splashed cold water on her face, and headed straight to her bedroom.

On the night Dazai had disappeared, leaving her with only a bomb on her car that she fucking knew was from Dazai even though she had no proof, Chuuya drank an entire bottle of wine and ended up punching her bathroom mirror.

“Stupid bitch,” she had muttered to herself as she picked glass out of her knuckles, unsure if she was talking about Dazai, or herself. 

Because Chuuya should have known better. She should have never trusted Dazai, never let herself get close to her, never let herself think that just because Dazai had been in her life for nearly three years, one of the only consistents in a life of crime and drugs and dead friends, that Chuuya could actually count on her, in any capacity. She should have never slept with her, never let Dazai occupy her mind. 

She should have never gotten bonded with the girl.

And worst of all, that had been Chuuya’s dumb decision, one she was mostly sure that Dazai hadn’t manipulated her into, for once. No, it had been all her, stupid and seventeen and in heat — and Dazai had been there, with her mischievous eyes and light smiles and teasing words. Dazai, always Dazai. Dazai had been the only one Chuuya trusted to help with her heats, which was moronic of her already, really. She should have never trusted the alpha. It wasn’t like Dazai had ever really earned her trust, beyond keeping the secret of their coupling from Mori, which had been a secret she kept for her own self-preservation, probably more than she had ever kept it for Chuuya. 

She had kept this a secret too, Chuuya thought as she ran a still bleeding hand over the scar of her mating bite, a small thing at the base of her neck that was easily hidden with a collared shirt. No one knew, or at least, Mori didn’t know, which was the important part. It wasn't that he would disapprove, no, that would be simple. He would approve far too much. He would grin in that soulless way he did, and say something about duty to the Port Mafia, about the potential of omegas to uniquely serve, about the strategic benefits of creating an army in-house, as it were. Mori had a lot of words for it, but it all boiled down to some sick desire to see his young subordinates reproduce. 

Well, she thought, at least Chuuya wouldn’t have to worry about that now, unless Mori found some new alpha to try and pair her off with. She didn’t think it was likely though — she had always gotten the sneaking suspicion that Mori had mainly seen her as a strong broodmare to carry Dazai’s children. Dazai, the boss’ little pet alpha, the Demon Prodigy herself. She had always been a bit too uncooperative for Mori’s liking, and Chuuya feared he would be far too happy to have a replacement, a new Dazai he could raise from scratch, with all the spine-chilling implications that entailed. Chuuya’s powerful ability was simply a bonus, as long as she was a capable omega. She assumed the only reason he focused on Chuuya as long as he had, even with both of them refusing to cooperate, was because he had some sense of the attraction that was there, the depth of which they both wanted to hide. Maybe now that Dazai was gone, Chuuya would be left alone. 

And if Mori did try to set Chuuya up with some new alpha, well, he sure would be in for a nasty surprise when they refused her. 

Because it wasn’t like Chuuya could get anyone else, not with Dazai’s mating bite on her neck. How could she? Even if she could, who else was there? 

It had only ever been Dazai. Chuuya had never wanted anyone else. It was fucked up and stupid and Chuuya would never admit it outloud — but she only wanted Dazai. 

She only cried a little, just a couple tears that dropped down on her hand, washing away pink little streaks when they mixed with her blood. After she had cleaned herself up and bandaged herself, Chuuya opened a second bottle of wine, more expensive than the first. She managed to drink a little over half of it before throwing up in her sink. 

Chuuya’s collection of sex toys was like her collection of make-up — small, but expensive. A couple of dildos, a few varieties of vibrators, all the highest quality money could buy. 

Of course, she thought as she pulled the box of them out from under the bed, Dazai would make fun of her for having any at all. She could picture her laughing, eyebrows raised mockingly as she laughed, What’s this? Chuuya never needed these things when she was with me —

Chuuya punched her mind-Dazai in the face. It was a lot more satisfying than punching actual Dazai, who could still read her movements and parry her blows, even after four years. At least in her mind, she could get Dazai to shut the fuck up. If the alpha were actually here, a punch would probably barely slow her down. She would probably just take it and then scurry over to Chuuya’s bed, undeterred by her bleeding nose as she demanded to see all of Chuuya’s sex toys, decide which ones she wanted to see the omega use— 

Chuuya growled, throwing her own choices, a dildo with a decent sized knot and powerful wand-style vibrator, onto the bed before she slammed the box shut again. She really wished she could stop thinking about Dazai. She hated thinking about Dazai, hated how much she could still affect her, how she could monopolize Chuuya’s thoughts without even fucking trying. She hated how much part of her wanted it still, wanted Dazai in her room with her now, wanted to see the alpha over her, inside of her, maybe holding the head of the vibrator on Chuuya’s clit.

Fuck. Chuuya felt like she was boiling alive. 

She tugged her clothes off as quickly as she could, throwing them on the floor with uncharacteristic disregard. That would be a problem for future Chuuya, once the suppressants had kicked in. Now, she just needed them off her body, too hot and too sensitive, the brush of fabric on her skin maddening. Once naked, she crawled into her bed, and thought about grabbing lube — but she was already so wet, slick dripping from her pussy eagerly, body begging for attention, so she didn’t bother.

Spreading her legs and leaning back, Chuuya positioned the head of the dildo at her entrance, rubbing it along her slick folds briefly before shoving it inside with practiced ease. She groaned at the stretch, even without the knotted part of the dildo inside her yet. It was big, this toy, she was pretty sure bigger than Dazai, though Chuuya couldn’t be sure. It had been a long time since she had last been intimate with Dazai’s anatomy, and those kinds of details had been lost in Chuuya’s memory. Still, it was the biggest toy she owned, and there was a very, very petty part of her imagined that it being bigger would offend Dazai somehow. It almost certainly wouldn't in reality, Dazai had never cared much about things like that, but it was the reason she had chosen it anyway. 

Pressing the toy inside of her up to just before the knot, Chuuya gave her clit some cursory rubs with her free hand, trying desperately to keep her mind blank, focus only on the sensation.

She failed. She could still smell Dazai, like in their brief interaction the alpha’s scent had clung to her somehow, invading her senses and reminding her over and over of the last and only person she wanted to think of. 

Four years, four fucking years, and Dazai shows up in the dungeon, smirking at her like nothing had ever fucking happened. Like she hadn't disappeared, like Chuuya wasn't owed any explanation. And she still smelled so good. 

Whining, Chuuya worked the toy into her harder, faster, breathing hard as heat washed over her body, making her writhe, wanting to crawl out of her skin. It wasn't enough, it wasn't enough — and the hand that wasn't holding the dildo fumbled for the vibrator besides her. 

Her first heat — her first few heats, really — after Dazai left were hell. She had broken things, had cried, had masturbated a lot, and felt worse for it. It took an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to make herself come again, even though she had never had that kind of trouble before, seemingly just because her body was protesting the absence of her alpha. 

And worst of all, there wasn’t anyone she could talk to about it. 

She had almost told Kouyou, after her first disastrous heat, but the thought of the disappointed look the woman would give her stopped her. Kouyou was an alpha, but had always believed in Chuuya, had always reminded her that being an omega wasn’t a weakness, even if people thought it was. 

She didn’t want Kouyou finding out that despite that, Chuuya had still been weak. 

Besides, Kouyou knowing was too risky. Kouyou was too close to Mori, and Chuuya didn’t want to think about how Mori would react to this secret. 

So she suffered alone. Surely, she had told herself, it would get easier. Chuuya had been in shitty situations before, where she had to hide her true feelings, stamping down any sign of weakness. They got easier, they always got easier.

But this got worse. 

Well, some aspects got better, namely Chuuya’s ability to make herself orgasm. But the anger, the crying, the way her hormones just overwhelmed her brain — it just kept getting worse. It would start about a week before her heat, the instability, the mood swings, and at first, Chuuya thought she could still keep it under control.

Then she went into a blind rage and broke all of some subordinate’s ribs because he used the wrong tone with her — and she ended up in front of Mori. 

“Sorry,” she rasped, slouching in her seat, head hung so she didn't have to look Mori in the eyes. “I've just been having some mood swings recently, around my heat.” 

Mood swings was no longer the correct way to describe the way she lost control, especially as her heat grew closer, but Chuuya hoped Mori wouldn't see past her lies. She had always been known for her temper, after all, so what was a little hormonal instability? She was fine, she told herself as his gaze bore into her. This wasn't like Corruption, this wasn't related to her power or to Arahabaki, so that meant she could control it, without Dazai’s help.

What was her alternative after all? Admit to Mori that she was slowly going feral because she had been abandoned by her mate? That the ugly name people had started calling her since she became an executive — the Port Mafia’s feral omega — was true? 

Mori hummed thoughtfully. “Hormonal imbalances aren't uncommon in young, unmated omegas like yourself. Often bearing children does seem to correct the problem.”

Chuuya ground her teeth together until her jaw ached, and didn't say anything. 

Mori had been saying things like this for years now. When Dazai and her had first become partners, it had started — and even as a street rat who was used to fending off old creeps, Chuuya had been stunned by the boldness. 

“You know, Chuuya-kun, she may not look it, but Dazai here is a very strong alpha. She developed quite early, so I'm sure she could sire quite a few pups. Have you ever considered having children?”

She remembered how Dazai had reacted back then, staring off into space with her dead-eyed stare — and at first Chuuya had wondered how she could be so impassive. Didn't it piss her off, being talked about like a piece of meat?

Now, she understood. Now, Chuuya also said nothing to Mori’s comments. 

“But I suppose,” Mori continued lightly, leaning his chin on his crossed hands. “That would be a disruption to your executive duties. Well, I suppose all we can do is give you the time off.”

“Of course. Thank you, Boss.”

There was one other thing Mori could do for her, one he had always refused to. He could prescribe her suppressants; he probably should prescribe her suppressants. But Chuuya knew better than to ask about them at this point. Mori had a million excuses about why she shouldn't take them. Excuses about what was most natural, about not disrupting the body’s cycles, about how many generations of omegas never used suppressants at all—

When she had gone to Kouyou, after the first time Mori had ordered her not to take them, even she had refused to get Chuuya any. 

“Do not misunderstand me, girl,” she had said, walking as she spoke, Chuuya trailing behind her. “I do not approve of Mori’s interference in your personal life, nor his interest in controlling your body. However, if you disobey him in this, he will find out. Mori wants you to be going into heat, so if you stop going into heat, he will investigate the reason.”

Chuuya, still only fifteen years old, had clenched her hands into fists, flushing with anger. “ But… ”

“Have you forgotten where you are, girl? Surely you did not expect the boss of the Port Mafia to be a good or decent man?”

Kouyou stopped, turning to look at Chuuya. They were in the courtyard of one of Kouyou’s buildings, the sun beginning to set, casting long shadows from the branches of the cherry trees. 

“This is something you must learn to deal with, being an omega in this organization. It is not pleasant, but it is reality, and you yourself know that you won't get better treatment on your own. Here, you are protected, you are given power and authority, and a family. I can keep you away from Mori as much as I can, as I try to with all of my girls, but my influence can only go so far.” 

Chuuya, generally, was not the image of a submissive or demure omega, but she had probably looked like one then, gaze cast downward, unable to look the alpha woman in the eyes. She was too full of anger at the unfairness of it all. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair that Chuuya had to deal with this just because she was an omega. 

At least, thought a cruel and petty part of her, Dazai had to put up with this shit also. 

“That is not to say I can't help you at all,” Kouyou continued. “What I can do is get you on birth control, which I'm sure that man also isn't interested in you taking. If you will be going into heat regularly, it's particularly important that you be diligent with it, but that is something you can hide from Mori.”

“Thank you, Ane-san,” she had said, not feeling as thankful as she knew she should. Birth control was more than she had access to on the streets, but it wasn't suppressants. Still, it was an extra layer of protection, at least. A precaution. A precaution that Chuuya, hopefully, would never actually need. After all, there wasn't anyone Chuuya would want to have sex with. 

She certainly wouldn't be having it with Dazai. 

“Fuck,” groaned Chuuya as she pressed the head of the vibrator to her clit, slick dripping from her hole, around the toy inside her. It felt good, and she was really feeling her heat now, the way it made her skin prickle and burn, oversensitive and needing touch all at once. Her thoughts were going hazy around the edges, and she was making desperate, animalistic noises as she began working the thick knot of the dildo into her aching cunt.

It was unfortunately impossible to avoid thinking about Dazai at this point. Chuuya wanted Dazai so bad; she hated her and wanted her and needed her. She couldn't stop thinking about what Dazai had looked like chained up, imagined what it would be like to suck her off like that, to edge Dazai and not let her cum while her arms pulled against the chains. 

(Of course Dazai could have escaped her chains at any time. But, she had waited for Chuuya to show up to bother escaping them, which made Chuuya feel both angry and happy — that maybe Dazai had wanted to see her, that maybe she had thought of Chuuya while they were apart, just a little bit — and then she felt angry at herself for being happy.)

Dazai wouldn't escape her chains and spoil Chuuya’s fun in her imagination. Chuuya had always liked feeling a little dominant over her alpha, and right now she really liked the idea of a flustered and denied Dazai, with her pupils blown and her cock hard and leaking, a Dazai who was desperate for her. She would love to leave Dazai like that, hard and aching, give her just the tiniest taste of what Chuuya had felt for the last four years — but she wanted to be fucked by Dazai even more, to feel the weight and warmth of the alpha on top of her, filling her up better than the toy Chuuya was using ever could. 

Chuuya imagined Dazai pinning her up against a wall, in a reversal of their fight in the dungeon. She imagined Dazai fucking her, hard and raw. She imagined ripping Dazai’s throat out with her teeth. She imagined digging her nails into Dazai's skin just to make her bleed, imagined herself squeezing Dazai’s neck until it snapped. She imagined Dazai kissing her, holding her close. 

Chuuya’s grasp on reality was slipping, as the heat took over her brain. She needed to be knotted if she had any hope of staying lucid. 

Groaning loudly, Chuuya impatiently worked the rest of her dildo’s knot inside her, the bulk of it finally slipping into her slick cunt and nearly knocking all the air out of her. It felt good, so good, cunt stuffed as the vibrator thrummed against her clit — and Chuuya was so close. She was so close, so close. She needed more. She ground the toy inside of her, pressing it inside as deep as it would go, the knot stretching her so well — and thought about Dazai. Thought about Dazai on top of her, inside of her, cold fingers gripping her thighs, mouth hot on Chuuya’s neck. She thought about four years without that, without Dazai. Without her mate.

As Chuuya came, she started to cry. 

Chuuya woke up to the soft sound of Dazai’s voice, and it took her a moment to realize what was going on, coming out of sleep with syrupy slowness. She was in a bed, scratchy sheets uncomfortable on her bare skin, the familiar bleach and vinegar smell of a mafia safe house and also—

Right. She remembered.

Well, at least she felt better right now, mind temporarily calmed.

Across her in the dark room she could see the hunched figure of Dazai, the red glow of a cigarette illuminating her hollow face as she spoke.

“That's correct,” Dazai was saying into her cellphone. “The mission was still a success. I had to get Chuuya to a safe house after, though.”

Mori, thought Chuuya, silently watching Dazai from where she laid.

“Yes,” said Dazai in response to something. Then, after a short pause, “No.”

Listening again to the other voice on the phone, Dazai took a drag from the cigarette, barely-visible dark eye landing on Chuuya for a moment. It was too dark to be sure, but she was pretty sure she saw the corners of Dazai’s mouth turned upward, for just a second. 

“Definitely not,” Dazai said impassively in response to whatever had been said. “I couldn't even if I wanted to. She won't let me near her. Earlier I tried to bring her water and she chased me out. I think she might be one of those feral omegas you hear about.” 

Chuuya huffed quietly. Of course that's what Mori was asking about. And it wasn't that she didn't appreciate Dazai lying about what had actually happened, but also, really? Did she have to call Chuuya feral? Mori was a beta, and though he often pretended that, as a doctor, he was particularly enlightened about these subjects, he still had some very regressive ideas about omegas. Not only would he believe that Chuuya was feral — which barely ever actually happened, despite how much people liked to talk about it — he would probably tell her the best way to fix it was getting pregnant. That seemed to be his proposed solution to anything even vaguely hormonal. 

“Yeah, yeah,” said Dazai on the phone, sounding bored. “I'll check in later, Boss.” 

Dazai snapped her phone shut with a small click. “Want a smoke, chibi?”

“Sure,” answered Chuuya, wondering how long she had been asleep while Dazai was awake. When the girl shuffled over to the bed, Chuuya could see that she was still half-naked, just in bandages and her wrinkled dress shirt, which wasn't even buttoned. She definitely hadn't fixed her hair, which looked more mussed than usual after their activities. 

“Thanks,” Chuuya said as Dazai handed her the lit cigarette, sitting down on the bed next to her, the ancient boxspring underneath creaking as she did. “What did Boss say?”

“What he always says,” replied Dazai flatly. “We’re supposed to stay here until your heat is over, and I'm supposed to let him know if anything changes.”

Chuuya took a long drag of the cigarette, stretching out a little on the uncomfortable bed. “Hm. Anything changing like you knotting me after our mission, I suppose?”

“Something like that,” agreed Dazai, taking the cigarette back when Chuuya offered it. 

Laying in the bed, Chuuya looked up at the ceiling, wooden structural beams exposed and making strange shadows in the dark room. She certainly hadn't intended for this to happen. But thanks to Mori and his damn scheming, she had gone into heat during a mission, and this time around enough people that it could have been a real problem. She had attracted a little too much attention from some alpha goons, but when one had tried to get close to her he was abruptly shot down by Dazai. It had been effective at getting everyone to back down, but as her heat took over, Chuuya had felt… something at the idea of Dazai protecting her from other alphas. It had been enough to make Chuuya forget, temporarily, that Dazai was absolutely the last person she should sleep with. Because, if Mori found out that his master plan had worked… 

“If Boss found out, you’d be rewarded,” she mused out loud, not adding the implicit second part of the statement — ‘and I would be punished’. It wasn't even true, technically. After all, Mori wouldn't see pressuring — or maybe even ordering — Chuuya to get pregnant as a punishment at all. He would probably say it was fulfilling her natural purpose for the good of the Port Mafia, or something like that. 

“Gross,” was Dazai’s very mature response, snorting as smoke billowed out of her nose like a demon. “It's not like I want to have ugly little slug babies with you anymore than you do with me.” 

“He'd probably promote you to executive on the spot,” grumbled Chuuya, reaching out for the cigarette again. “He'd be so proud of you, and I'd just be another accessory for Boss’s great Demon Prodigy.”

Dazai let Chuuya take the cigarette back, but Chuuya felt the way she stiffened, saw the way the lines of her face hardened. “I don't care if he’s proud of me; I'd rather he weren't,” she said sourly, turning her face away from Chuuya’s in the darkness. “And I didn't fuck you because of Mori.”

“I know that,” grumbled Chuuya, wishing she didn't feel bad for — what? Hurting Dazai’s feelings? Since when did she have feelings to hurt? “I definitely wouldn't have fucked you if I thought that.”

Dazai didn't respond, still looking away from Chuuya, the curtain of her dark hair hiding her face. She had cut it again recently, so now it only just reached her shoulders. When they had first met it had been nearly down to her waist, but she had complained about it all the time, and it was always tangled, falling into her face like the ghost girl from that movie Chuuya had recently been shown by Albatross. 

“Why don't you cut it if you hate it so much?” Chuuya, who had kept her hair short when she was with The Sheep out of necessity, had asked once, shortly after Double Black had formed. 

Dazai had huffed loudly, waving her hand dismissively as she simply answered, “Mori.” 

And indeed, Chuuya had seen Mori stroke Dazai’s hair before. It could have seemed like a paternal gesture, a father patting his daughter's head — but it didn't actually seem that way at all. It made Chuuya’s skin crawl, and she always found herself looking away with something akin to shame when Mori went out of his way to run a hand through Dazai’s messy curls. 

Not long after Chuuya had asked about it, Dazai showed up one day with her hair haphazardly mangled, several chunks cut off in a way that suggested she went at it blindfolded with a pair of scissors. Dazai had seemed rather proud of herself, but of course Mori had been quite annoyed by his prodigy’s childish rebellion. 

Chuuya blew out a cloud of smoke, handing the cigarette back to Dazai before rolling over, resting on her stomach, chin propped up on her hand. “I can't believe you told him I was feral though,” she complained lightly, hoping to change the subject. “You know he’ll believe something like that.” 

“Yeah, cause it's so believable! You're already halfway there, considering you're such a violent chibi. You’re small and cute like a proper omega, but not sweet like one.”

“Shut up! I’m not even that small, I’m still growing!” Chuuya rolled her eyes, and tried to remain cool-seeming as she forced out the next part. “Fuck, I can't believe I'm asking this… was that a one time thing? Or are you gonna, you know… keep helping?” 

Chuuya could feel her face heating again, as well as Dazai’s impenetrable gaze, though she didn't let herself look up and meet her eyes. It was embarrassing, made more embarrassing by the fact that Nakahara Chuuya herself was a virgin prior to this. At age sixteen and as an omega, Chuuya was both incredibly over aware of her virginity, and simultaneously trying to convince herself that she was cool enough that those things didn't matter to her. The Sheep had kept her safe on the streets, and when she had presented as an omega at age thirteen, only a few — like Shirase — even found out. An aggressive combination of scent blockers and stolen knock off pheromone spray had been enough to convince at least most passersby that Chuuya was not an omega — but an alpha. She had the attitude to sell it, though it had led to that stupid Queen of the Sheep title, so maybe it had been an ill thought out plan from the start. 

Dazai, of course, had seen through her from the start. 

“Hmm, well it would be annoying for me if I had to deal with other alphas sniffing around Chuuya in heat while we’re on a mission,” said Dazai lightly, taking a final pull out of the cigarette before putting it out directly on the wooden table next to the bed, doubtlessly leaving a burn mark. “But I would have to start spending a lot more on condoms, if Chuuya’s going to be using me for my body every time she goes into heat.”

“Oh fuck off. Obviously I'm on birth control, dumbass.” She knew her cheeks had to be so red, so she tried to angle herself in a way where Dazai couldn't see her face. “I wouldn't have let you— you know… inside if I wasn't.” 

“Ah, and here I thought Chuuya was just making bad decisions like a dumb little heat-brained omega. Well, that's good, because it's not like I can afford to get you Plan B.”

“Oh come on, I know how much you make, yes you fucking could.”

“I spent my whole paycheck already, honest! I wasted so much of it on gashapons, you have no idea, Chuuya.”

Chuuya snorted out a mocking laugh, turning back to look at Dazai again without really even thinking about it, though she instantly remembered why she had looked away. Dazai had regained her air of ease and effortlessness, and she grinned down at Chuuya — and Chuuya felt like her heart skipped a beat. Dazai was, unfortunately, really sexy like this, her hair tousled, lounging in only her stupid bandages and a shirt, barely covering her breasts and completely exposing her legs. Dazai was, unfortunately, really attractive in general, seemingly despite the alpha’s own best efforts. The girl mangled her hair, barely slept, drank too much, smoked too much, washed her face and hair with dish soap, and a million other things — and still, she had the striking good looks of a teen model, and not the unhealthy mafia brat she was. It was, honestly, sort of infuriating. Especially when Chuuya thought about how much she invested into keeping her own skin clear. 

“You're such a fucking moron,” she chided softly, her voice sounding way too fond. “You don't even like gashapon.” 

Dazai hummed, scooting down on the bed so she was laying fully next to Chuuya, rolling onto her side so she could run her fingers along Chuuya’s spine, stroking the exposed skin. The cold tickle of it made Chuuya shiver. “Not really,” Dazai admitted. “But I wanted to complete the capsule set.”

Warmth was building in Chuuya’s stomach again, though not quite so urgently as it had before. Maybe that's why Chuuya leaned into Dazai’s cold touch. “Yeah? And did you?”

Dazai grinned, leaning forward to start planting kisses on Chuuya’s bare shoulder. “Nope. Never could get that last one.”

Fucking herself while crying wasn't even a particularly unusual experience, really — though it usually only happened when she was losing her mind with heat. That way Chuuya didn't have to really grapple with how embarrassing and pathetic that was, or even remember most of it. This out of cycle heat was different though, and as Chuuya fought to keep her instincts, and, perhaps more importantly, her powers in check, Chuuya sobbed, in frustration and longing and in embarrassment. 

At least Dazai wasn't around to see it. It was bad enough that she knew Dazai had smelled the way Chuuya’s body responded to hers. Chuuya didn't think she could live with herself if Dazai knew she had reduced her to this. A crazed omega, naked and crying and desperately fucking herself, desperately trying to keep savage instincts in check. Dazai would never let her live it down — and that thought unexpectedly redoubled her sobs. 

Chuuya hadn't had to consider what Dazai would or wouldn't make fun of her for in four years. 

Dazai had been gone longer than Chuuya had even known her. 

Dazai had looked different, but the same. She was less gaunt than she had been four years ago, and she wore her hair short now, in a shaggy, boyish cut that curled around her ears and framed her unbandaged face. But Dazai’s eyes were the same, and so was her smile, the one she used to taunt Chuuya with. Was that why she had appeared again, after so long? To taunt Chuuya, to make fun of her? Did she laugh about it, about the stupid omega she had left behind, a love-struck little bitch who had been foolish enough to think something so human as a mating bond would mean anything to the great and impenetrable Dazai Osamu? 

What would be worse, that, or Dazai never thinking of her at all?

A pained noise tore out of Chuuya’s throat, and she heard the sound of her sheets ripping as she gripped them hard in frustration. She had barely noticed when she had transitioned to fucking herself with her hands to fucking herself with her ability, gravity driving the the dildo inside her at a brutal place as she clawed at the bed around her. Tears dripped down her face, into her open mouth as she came again, the hum of the vibrator driving her quite suddenly over the edge. The orgasm hit her like a punch to the stomach, leaving her gasping, but it brought no relief. There was a building tightness in Chuuya’s chest, a growing fog in her mind, leaving her dizzy and lost and insatiable.

Chuuya often felt like there was a flame inside her, but this was different from the white hot burn of Arahabaki. It was more like embers in her stomach, catching into a flame and filling her head with smoke. Animalistic urges tugged at her thoughts, threatening to tear apart her brain. Determined not to lose herself, Chuuya set her teeth hard, tried to focus. It was hard though, hard to think, her hips moving on their own, mindlessly seeking more stimulation. 

It wasn't enough. It would never be enough, not without the weight and warmth of another body, without the scent of her mate. Without Dazai. 

A savage noise left Chuuya’s throat, and the world spun for a moment, and when it stopped Chuuya was on her knees now, riding the dildo desperately, hard and fast as her power held it in place. It wasn't enough, it wasn't enough. She needed her alpha, needed her so badly it was making her furious, mind clouding with pure animalistic aggression, desperate for relief, frustration warping into something primal and dangerous. The toy dragged inside her as she mindlessly rocked her hips, but the pleasure no longer penetrated her violent haze. At most it kept the rage from overwhelming her entirely, though not by much. 

She should have killed Dazai. She imagined doing it, imagined it over and over with every roll of her hips, imagined it as her cunt spasmed around the toy in another useless orgasm. It only frustrated her, and she was vaguely aware of the inhuman noises leaving her mouth. It was beginning to ache, this ceaseless need, and she knew the pain would just get worse the longer this heat went on. She had no idea how long it had been, minutes or hours, so she had no idea when the suppressants would finally kick in, no idea how long she would be left in mindless and in pain, like a wounded animal. 

Her insides cramped, her head spun, and when she came again this time it only brought more pain, more emptiness in spite of the large toy inside her. 

Glowing red, the bed shot up in the air as her power lifted it, before just as suddenly crashing back down, and Chuuya let out a primal scream as fury overtook her mind.

It had never been that Mori wouldn't approve of Dazai and Chuuya’s relationship, or whatever you called it when you mostly argued but also had sex regularly. 

No, it had always been obvious he would approve too much, obvious that he viewed whatever belligerent attraction the teens felt toward each other as just another asset to be exploited. It was obvious, considering they always seemed to have to share rooms on missions that coincided with Chuuya’s heat cycle, go on out of town missions or do isolated stakeouts when there was a high chance of her going into heat mid-mission. At first it had been infuriating, but now she managed to have some fun with it, using the opportunities to blow off steam right under Mori’s nose. Luckily, Dazai was very good at convincing Mori that being attacked by Chuuya was the closest the alpha got to getting any action during these escapades. And Chuuya wasn't above giving her some minor injuries to sell the lie, in a sexy way or not. 

Honestly, it was more difficult to hide it when they were back home in Yokohama. They had obviously continued hooking up when they got the chance regardless of Chuuya’s heat, wary all the while of keeping it a secret. Neither wanted Mori finding out. He had been bringing it up more recently, how beneficial it would be to fully utilize the potential of omegas in the Port Mafia. 

But that also meant that when Chuuya got a rare heat where she got to actually stay home, those were the worst of all. Because Dazai couldn't stay. She had to go out, go to work, acting all business-as-usual, while Chuuya was stuck in her apartment waiting for scraps of Dazai’s time. It made her feel pathetic, curled up in her nest of blankets waiting for the alpha to return, touching herself in desperate frustration and overall feeling sorry for herself. It was pathetic, pining away like some helpless omega. She could always find another alpha to satiate her, Chuuya knew, someone she didn't have to keep secret, who could stay with her the whole time. 

But she didn't want a different alpha. She wanted Dazai. It was pathetic. 

It wasn't like she was in love with Dazai, she told herself. But she did trust Dazai, or as close as she could get considering this was still Dazai. She had put her life in Dazai’s hands enough times that she couldn't help but trust her. And her heats left Chuuya feeling almost as vulnerable as Corruption did.

Not to mention, Dazai was also still the only person Chuuya had ever had sex with. Outside of her heats, she had toyed with the idea of finding someone, anyone else, just to prove to Dazai that she could, but she had never been able to follow through. She always just ended up texting Dazai instead. And it kind of made her feel powerful, when she told the alpha to come over and she obeyed, like she was at Chuuya’s beck and call. Chuuya had spent so much of her life feeling like she was guarding her sexuality, that as a woman and an omega, sex was something to be inflicted upon her. It had been a constant source of anxiety when she lived on the streets, one that hadn't entirely disappeared when she joined the Mafia. But it had never felt that way with Dazai. 

So, Chuuya wasn't in love with Dazai — but maybe she did care about her. Dazai was weird and annoying and morbid, but she had a strange ingenuous quality sometimes that betrayed her immaturity. Sometimes Chuuya thought that the alpha was actually far more fragile than herself, and it endeared her to Chuuya more than it should. 

Not that she really expected any of that care returned. It was fine though. Dazai didn't care about anyone, not even herself. It wasn't personal. And Dazai didn't need to care about her, or even like her, for Chuuya to be the person she was closest with. Chuuya wanted that, for some reason she couldn't clearly articulate. She wanted to know Dazai best, know all her ugly bits and vulnerabilities, understand her better than Mori or anyone else could ever dream to. She wanted to claw Dazai open and bury her hands into her viscera, know her from the inside out. 

Maybe she just wanted to matter in Dazai’s life. In anyone’s life. Chuuya didn't know. 

She smelled Dazai before she heard the click of the door, so attuned to the scent of the alpha in this state, even as she was reduced to weakly shivering in a cocoon of blankets. Finally, finally, Chuuya thought desperately, too affected by the heat to be embarrassed at her own excitement. She didn't know how many hours the alpha had been gone, but the time had gone miserably slow for Chuuya. It was a struggle to even move, with how feverish she felt, but she managed to feebly upright herself in bed, sitting up in the center of her nest, still wrapped in blankets, the fever at a stage where she was cold and shivery despite being overheated. 

“Knock knock,” greeted Dazai teasingly as she opened the door, chuckling when her one exposed eye landed on Chuuya. “Oh dear, you're in a state. You didn't go feral while I left, did you Chuuya?”

Chuuya ignored the shitty little joke, whining softly. “You were gone so long,” she whimpered, trying to sound accusatory and utterly failing, her voice too weak. 

“Sorry, sorry,” apologized Dazai glibly, taking off her coat, carelessly throwing it onto Chuuya’s desk. “The job ran long. Mori was being a total ass about it, and I ended up calling Odasaku in to help me. I'll tell you about it later.” 

Chuuya hoped Dazai didn't notice the way Chuuya retreated into her blankets, just a little, at the mention of Oda Sakunosuke’s name. “Just come here,” she whined demandingly, trying not to think about it.

It was stupid. Chuuya, objectively, had no reason to feel jealous of Dazai’s friend. Chuuya and Dazai’s relationship had no place for jealousy. It was entirely physical, and Chuuya had never been stupid enough to assume any sort of monogamy on Dazai’s part. And that was if Chuuya wasn't being a crazy, paranoid omega. If she wasn't just imagining the way Dazai looked at the older woman sometimes. She honestly wasn't sure. 

But, said the traitorous part of Chuuya’s brain, Oda was an alpha, like Dazai was. She didn't know if that made them closer — but she imagined such a dynamic would appeal to Dazai more than their own. Another alpha produced no risk of children, which meant it was not a relationship Mori could exploit in that way. And because they were safe from that, Dazai was free to do normal things with Oda, go to bars and hang out and spend time together that wasn't fraught with secrecy. It was stupid, she tried to remind herself, to be jealous of something so small as getting to spend time with Dazai. Dazai wouldn't want to spend time with Chuuya if it wasn't about sex or work. They weren't friends. 

Chuuya had no friends, not anymore. 

Oblivious to or ignoring Chuuya’s idiotic jealousy, Dazai smiled at her, warm and seductive, pulling off her tie and waistcoat. “Relax chibi, I'm just getting undressed. Then you can get your scent all over me again, okay?”

Chuuya whined impatiently, and Dazai laughed as she began to unbutton her shirt, taking entirely too long. “You're being such a needy omega tonight.” 

Chuuya tugged the blankets tighter around her, pulling them over her face. “Fuck you,” she tried to bite back, but it came out sounding hurt, weak and half-muffled. 

“Ah, no need to pout, Chuuya, it's not a bad thing. Chuuya’s cute when she’s needy, whimpering like a puppy.”

“Seriously, fuck you.” She managed to sound something other than pitiful that time, though not by much. “I feel awful. You were gone.” 

“I know, poor baby,” cooed Dazai, tone just ever so slightly mocking. “It must be so frustrating, only having your little fingers to fill you up instead of my knot.”

“Dazai…” 

“Shh, relax.” Chuuya could feel the mattress dip as Dazai crawled onto the bed, into Chuuya’s nest, hands going to tug the blankets away from Chuuya’s face. When she did, Chuuya saw two dark eyes boring into hers. Dazai had taken off the bandages around her face. “See? I'm here, Chuuya.”

She had also loosened the bandages on her wrist and neck, Chuuya realized as Dazai lifted a hand to stroke her fevered cheek, the touch comforting, like the cool side of a pillow. She had done it so Chuuya could scent her, she knew, and she gratefully took the invitation, nuzzling her face into the pulse-point of Dazai’s wrist. This was only something Dazai had started doing recently, and Chuuya had been careful not to comment on it, on the scars it exposed, or the intimacy of the gesture. It made her feel like Dazai trusted her, too, trusted Chuuya not to be disgusted by the excess of scars she always hid from the world. She never took her bandages entirely off around Chuuya, around anyone, she assumed, but Chuuya hoarded the bits of skin Dazai would let her touch. 

“There we go, good girl,” praised Dazai, and Chuuya’s brain was too full of static to tell if Dazai was teasing or not, but felt herself purring like it was sincere. The hand that wasn't trapped by Chuuya kept pushing away the blankets, exposing the omega’s sweat-damp body, running her hands over skin when it was revealed. “Feeling better already, aren't you? What a sweet omega.”

“Shut up,” muttered Chuuya weakly, still nuzzling at the alpha’s exposed skin. Dazai laughed, pulling Chuuya’s naked body against hers. Chuuya couldn't bother being embarrassed about the way she immediately clung to the alpha, squirming and burying her face into Dazai's exposed neck, breathing her in. 

Dazai did not shut up. “Poor puppy,” she murmured, carding her fingers through Chuuya’s hair, scratching her scalp lightly. “So lonely.”

Chuuya huffed, scratching her nails threateningly over the bandaged flesh of her back. It wasn't fair for Dazai to tease her when she was so far into her heat. Any omega would hate this stupid fucking set up. 

“I know, I know, puppy,” Dazai soothed. “It's not like I want to leave. Believe me, I'd much rather slack off and spend the day inside Chuuya.”

Frustrated, Chuuya whined, because Dazai wasn't inside her, or even close. She still had her fucking underwear on. Leaning back to try and grind against the growing bulge in the alpha’s boxer briefs, Chuuya breathlessly demanded, “Kiss me, asshole.”

Dazai laughed again, but kissed her, slow and dirty, leisurely teasing her tongue past Chuuya’s lips, deeper and deeper —  until somehow Chuuya had been pushed onto her back, moaning around the alpha’s tongue. They really only kissed when Chuuya was in heat, too needy and eager to deny how much she wanted it. 

“Mmm, Chuuya’s so cute like this,” Dazai purred, sitting up to pull off her trademark off-white compression sports bra. “I like it when you get so desperate you actually act like a sweet omega for once.”

Chuuya didn't even protest the teasing, because she was too busy staring at Dazai’s breasts as they bounced out of her bra, a rare glimpse of mostly unbandaged skin. Dazai didn't usually get her tits out when they fucked, but when she did it kind of drove Chuuya crazy. Dazai dressed in a way that sought to hide her figure, which meant her breasts were larger than Chuuya had expected them to be, not huge, but big enough that they spilled out of Chuuya’s small hands when she got to touch them. 

Which she reached out to do now, making Dazai giggle as she shifted to wriggle out of her underwear. “Chuuya’s being a pervert.”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” huffed Chuuya, mindlessly groping Dazai’s breasts, the warm weight of them stirring her urgent need. 

Dazai’s mouth overtook Chuuya’s once more, groping Chuuya in return, pinching and tugging at her nipples in a way that made Chuuya whine into the kiss. It was so much, and she was enveloped in the alpha’s scent again, pheromones invading her brain, relaxing and exciting her at the same time. She moaned deliriously around Dazai’s tongue, trying to thrust her hips up and grind up against the warmth of Dazai’s erection. 

“Mmm, you still gotta relax, slug,” mumbled Dazai, kissing along Chuuya’s jaw as she pushed Chuuya’s hips down, rubbing her cock teasingly against Chuuya’s inner thigh. “Just let me take care of you. Just lay back and let me give you what you need, okay?”

The raw, worldless cry Chuuya made was probably answer enough. She was so dazed with her heat that she probably couldn't do much else. It felt good, though, right, letting the alpha take charge when she was this far into her heat. She let Dazai position her, staying pliant as cold hands grabbed her thighs, pushing her knees toward her chest so her slick cunt was exposed. 

She stayed pliant, but as Dazai rubbed her cock through the folds of her labia, Chuuya made a high-pitched noise that was almost a shriek. She was so aroused, slick and swollen, clitoris throbbing, that it was nearly overwhelming, the head of her cock rubbing against her clit, teasing her entrance.

“Ah, you feel so good, Chuuya,” sighed Dazai, luxuriously grinding against Chuuya’s cunt, holding her spread out and exposed. “So soft and wet. I could come just like this.”

“Dazai—!” Chuuya managed to whine out, thighs shaking in Dazai’s hands as her cunt throbbed, dripping around the alpha’s cock. It was so much, but also she felt like she would die if Dazai came anywhere but inside her. She had waited too long, her cunt slick and needy for hours now, aching with desire. “Dazai—! Please, need—” 

“Yeah, tell me what you need, baby,” Dazai purred, voice rough with lust as she kept teasing Chuuya with the rutting of her cock, dark eyes wild. “Be a good little omega and tell me what you need.” 

Chuuya nearly screamed, writhing in the alpha’s grip. “Dazai!” she wailed plaintively, not feeling like she could say much else. Her brain was melting, body overheating. “Dazai, fuck, Dazai—!” 

Dazai smirked down at Chuuya, dark curls falling in her face, clearly amused by the omega's squirming. “Close enough, I suppose.” 

Then Dazai released her hold on Chuuya’s legs, letting her plant her feet on the bed on either side of Dazai as she next grabbed the omega’s hips, holding her steady as the head of her cock finally pressed at her entrance. Slowly she sunk into Chuuya, inch by inch, filling her so completely that Chuuya felt like all the air was being pushed out of her, leaving her gasping for breath. 

“Chuuya,” groaned Dazai as she bottomed out, but Chuuya couldn't respond. Words were lost to her; all she could do was pant and whine and take Dazai’s cock. Sheathed deep inside her now, Dazai collapsed forward onto Chuuya, enveloping the omega's body with her own and pulling her into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Chuuya moaned loudly into the kiss, legs wrapping around Dazai’s waist, hands tugging at her curls. It was rapturous, the feeling of Dazai inside her, around her, the scratch of bandages and the softness of where her skin was actually exposed. She clung to Dazai, like it would keep her from leaving again, lost in the heady pleasure of being filled, the delicious slide of Dazai’s tongue against her own. 

Slowly at first, Dazai began to roll her hips, picking up speed as high-pitched cries were pushed from Chuuya’s lips with every thrust. “Ah, so good, good girl,” moaned Dazai, kissing down to the base of Chuuya’s throat, breathing in the scent of her heat. “What a good omega. Is this what you needed? You just needed your alpha fucking you good like you deserve?”

Chuuya, foggy with lust and still half-mad from heat, felt her mind skip like a record. My alpha, she thought deliriously. My alpha, my alpha, my alpha—

“Ah, fuck, it feels so good being inside you,” babbled Dazai, ever the talker, though Chuuya could barely hear her. “I couldn't stop thinking about this at work, about when I would finally get to fuck you again, be inside you. Fuck, your pussy is so eager, squeezing around me like it doesn't want to let go—”

Chuuya wailed at a particularly hard thrust, scratching at the small bit of exposed skin on the back of Dazai’s neck, shuddering hard as she teetered closer and closer to an orgasm. Buried inside her, Dazai groaned, pushing herself up and looking down at Chuuya, brown eyes glassy. “Ah, look at you, taking it so well. Like you were made for my cock.”

Chuuya’s brain buzzed, her body trembling. Yes, she thought. Yes, yes, yes, my alpha, made for me, mine mine mine mine —

“Dazai!” she choked out, unable to verbalize what she was feeling. She needed more, more of Dazai, more of her alpha. Because Dazai was her alpha, wasn't she? She was the only alpha Chuuya had ever let know her this way, she had been attending to Chuuya’s heats for over a year now. Surely there was no other omega Dazai had been with as much as her, no other omega that Dazai would loosen her bandages around. She may have friends she liked more than Chuuya, she may look at Odasaku with an admiration she would never show Chuuya — but Chuuya was still the only omega Dazai would go out of her way for, and that had to mean something. Dazai was Chuuya’s alpha. Chuuya’s alpha, her alpha, hers hers hers— “Dazai, fuck–! Need— Alpha– !”

“I've got you, I've got you,” soothed Dazai, though her voice was nearly a growl. “Here, let me…”

An arm wrapped around Chuuya’s waist, lifting her up so Dazai could reposition them, and Chuuya clung to her shoulders as the alpha sat them up, moving so that Chuuya was now in Dazai’s lap. It was a position that gave Chuuya more leverage, and she mindlessly rocked her hips against Dazai’s, grinding down as she buried her face into the crook of her neck, breathing in the alpha’s scent. Dazai smelled something like wood and moss and sweet herbs, and Chuuya wanted to bury herself in that scent, to live in it. When she was this close to Dazai, senses heightened by her present condition, Chuuya could also smell the faint scent of chemicals, lingering traces of scent blockers that Dazai must have wiped off before coming to Chuuya’s apartment. Dazai normally drowned herself in the stuff — and it occurred to Chuuya’s heat-addled brain that that meant that Chuuya probably knew better than anyone how Dazai actually smelled. More than that, Chuuya was attuned to Dazai’s smell, to her pheromones and her cycle, and she knew Dazai was attuned to hers.

Like they were mates. 

Chuuya had never really known any mated pairs. It wasn't forbidden in the Port Mafia, but there was an unspoken understanding that it was something you would need the Boss’ permission to do, which Chuuya assumed was deterrent enough for most people. If that wasn't enough, Kouyou was firmly against the idea of any of the omegas she mentored getting mated. ‘That kind of bond is only a liability in a life like ours, child, ’ Chuuya had often heard her say. ‘It will only be used against you.’ Chuuya had always listened, watched the far away and sad look Kouyou would get when she said it, and tried very hard to take the idea to heart. But try as she might to harden herself, there was a softness inside Chuuya she couldn't seem to get rid of, even after everything that had happened, everyone she had lost.

Sometimes, unbidden, Chuuya would think, At least Paul had Rimbaud. I don't have anyone. They were technically the only mated pair Chuuya had ever met, though she had never known them together. And look how that had turned out — but still, Chuuya couldn't help but feel jealous. Chuuya had no one. No friends, no family. Just Arahabaki, lurking at the back of her consciousness like a dormant volcano.

And Dazai. 

Dazai, who was creepy and morbid and cold, who was empty and frail and sad. Dazai, who smiled like a wild animal bearing its teeth. Dazai, the Demon Prodigy, the suicide-freak. Dazai, holding her close, her fingers running through Chuuya’s hair as she rocked her hips up in time with Chuuya’s, filling her up so completely. Dazai, Dazai, Dazai. 

“That's right, you're doing so good, baby,” murmured Dazai hoarsely, and Chuuya wasn't even embarrassed by the way she keened at the praise, face still buried into the alpha’s neck. Already she was close to orgasm, grinding her swollen clit down against Dazai’s pubic bone, clenching around her cock. Chuuya felt like she had been on edge all day, her unsatisfying, self-induced orgasms doing nothing to quell her heat, leaving her out of her mind with desperation. She needed it more than she had ever needed anything, like she would die if she didn't come on Dazai’s cock. Dazai’s knot was just barely beginning to swell, but the stretch at Chuuya’s entrance as she moved her hips was driving her crazy. She wanted Dazai to knot her so badly, fill her up so completely that Chuuya would never feel empty again.

“Dazai!” she heard herself babble, half muffled by the was she was rubbing her face into Dazai’s throat, desperate to coat herself in the alpha’s scent, to get her own scent on Dazai. Desperate to claim her and to be claimed, desperate for everyone to know that Dazai was hers, secrecy be damned. Not the Port Mafia’s, not Mori’s — Chuuya’s. “Fuck, s-so close, I need—!”

“Yeah, yeah, come for me, I want to feel you come,” Dazai encouraged, her hands grabbing Chuuya’s hips, thrusting up harder into Chuuya with devastating precision. Chuuya cried out at every thrust, mouth hanging open, so close to Dazai’s throat — and her teeth itched with a deep, instinctual urge to bite. 

What would it be like, to be bonded for real? 

It was a bad idea, a dangerous idea, but as Chuuya’s thighs trembled, teetering on the edge of orgasm, she could feel the thought consuming her. She could be mated, mated to Dazai, terrible and beguiling Dazai. Then Dazai would be hers, and Chuuya would matter to someone as something other than a weapon, a vessel—

Dazai slammed into her so hard Chuuya screamed, nails clawing at Dazai’s shoulders as she came, orgasm tearing viciously through her body. Her entire world was reduced to Dazai’s body against her own, her mind blank to anything but sensation and instinct. Nothing but her alpha, hers, hers, hers — and before Chuuya had even realized she had done it, she had sunk her fangs into the pale flesh at the base of Dazai’s throat, into the spot where the alpha’s scent was the strongest. A mating bite. 

Dazai screamed this time, somewhere between pain and pleasure, and Chuuya moaned, hot blood rushing into her mouth. There was a part of her that was horrified at what she had just done, at the implications of such an action, but it was drowned by the primal hum of the omega’s brain, chanting, mine mine mine mine. 

Then there was a hand in Chuuya’s hair, gripping hard this time and pulling her back, forcing her to release her teeth from Dazai’s throat. “Chuuya!” snapped Dazai, pulling her back to force Chuuya to look her in the eyes. Chuuya must look like a mess, barely able to focus her eyes, still flushed and trembling from her orgasm, Dazai’s blood smeared around her mouth. The distant, rational part of her brain was panicking, sure Dazai was about to shove her away in anger, or make fun of Chuuya, or perhaps worst of all, try to gently let Chuuya down — but Dazai just looked at her, breathing hard, dark eyes wide, but otherwise inscrutable. 

“Chuuya… That hurt, Chuuya.”

And then Dazai’s mouth was at her neck, her teeth piercing her flesh. Again, Chuuya screamed, in pain and pleasure, what little grasp she had on her own rationality disappearing in a rush of hormones as the mating bond solidified. When Dazai pulled back her mouth was also dripping red, Chuuya’s blood a mockery of lipstick. Chuuya pulled their lips together, tasting herself on Dazai’s tongue. 

“Mine,” she heard herself growling between kisses, squeezing her alpha so tight, with her arms and her legs and her cunt.  “Mine, mine mine, mine—”

“Yeah, yours,” agreed Dazai breathlessly, pressing Chuuya back against the mattress — and Chuuya wasn't even sure when Dazai had flipped their position again, body completely enveloping Chuuya’s own. All she knew was that her alpha was on top of her, grinding into her. Knotting her.  “All yours, Chuuya. You're my possessive little omega, aren't you? My vicious little thing, ah, fuck, Chuuya—”

There was an amused lilt to Dazai’s voice, and maybe Dazai was making fun of her still, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Dazai was hers, her alpha. Chuuya’s mouth found the bite she had left, licking soothingly at the bloody mark, and Dazai moaned above her, hips stuttering as she came.

Later, Chuuya would wake up and remember what she had done. Later, Chuuya would realize the enormity of her mistake — but for now she was claimed and filled, and nothing else mattered. She was just an omega, safe in her nest, surrounded by her alpha’s scent, and she was something close to happy. 

The suppressants kicking in was like jolting awake from a dream. Chuuya blinked up at her ceiling, trying to get her bearings as her higher consciousness reactivated and good sense returned to her. Her body hurt terribly, her muscles aching from the strain of her own heat — though considering she also felt the lingering tingle of For The Tainted Sorrow in her bones, she was more concerned with the state of her room. She had most of her furniture reinforced for this very situation, but it had been a long time since she had lost control that badly in regards to her ability. Losing her mind was normal, turning into something more animal than person, something feral — but since the first few times, mostly her power remained under her control, in spite of everything. 

Stupid Dazai. Always ruining everything, always disrupting the closest Chuuya had to peace. 

Body heavy, she dragged herself out of bed, leaving the toys strewn across the mattress as she inspected the damage. Several of the wooden slats that supported the mattress were destroyed, but the frame itself was sturdy, and custom rosewood, so it was mostly just scuffed, though there was some cracking in its legs that she would need to deal with. 

One of her bedside lamps was broken, thrown across the room. She wasn't sure how that had happened, or why she would have thrown her lamp in the first place.

It was evening now, and Chuuya was ridiculously tired. She had been tired before all this, before seeing Dazai. She had been coming home fresh off a busy job in the west, stepping off the plane only to hear that the infamous traitor Dazai Osamu was captured. 

If only she had been strong enough to leave it there. 

She hoped no one had tried to contact her during all of that. What would they think, Kouyou or Mori or anyone else, if they heard she went into heat just after seeing Dazai? 

It was fine, she told herself. It was all fine. She could handle this, like she had handled everything for years, on her own. This didn't actually change anything. Dazai hadn't come back for her. Dazai, she had accepted years ago, would never come back for her. 

She had always known, deep down, that Dazai was out there, alive. She was sure that she would be able to tell the second her mate died, even if they hadn't been together in years. 

It would have been easier, in a lot of ways, if Dazai were dead. Easier than her being alive and happy without Chuuya. 

Whatever, she thought, tired and bitter and embarrassed, collapsing back onto her sagging mattress. It didn't matter. Dazai didn't matter. She probably wouldn't even show up again, abandoning Chuuya like she always had.

Chuuya would never have to see Dazai again. 

“This sucks,” whined Dazai, in her tacky brown coat and arm sling she probably didn't even need, stepping over one of the men Chuuya had just mowed down as they both strode over to the house where Kyusaku was being kept. “Here I thought I would get to do this job without the slug getting in my way.”

Chuuya, who had more or less just saved Dazai’s life, sneered at the woman. “Fuck you,” she snapped. “I should have let the Guild soldiers crush you then retrieved Q myself.”

Not that Chuuya actually had that option. Mori’s orders had been very clear — and Chuuya, not being an idiot, certainly understood that teaming up with the Agency was the best way to defeat The Guild. The Agency wasn't her problem. Just Dazai. 

At least no one would expect her to play nice with her former partner. Their fights had been infamous in the Port Mafia, and no one had any reason to think there was anything deeper to Chuuya’s anger. 

“That would have been preferable to having to see Chuuya’s stupid hat again,” groused Dazai. “This is the worst day of my life.”

God, how Chuuya wished that were true. She would love to be responsible for Dazai’s worst day ever. “Whatever. Just don't walk next to me, bitch.”

Dazai snorted, purposefully matching Chuuya’s walking speed exactly. “You're the one walking next to me.”

Well, at least Chuuya knew Dazai hadn't actually grown up any in the four years she had been gone. “Don't push your luck. I still haven't decided if I'm gonna kill you or not.”

“So mean! Why, is there some reason you don't want to get near me, Chuuya?”

Chuuya shot Dazai a murderous glare. “ Yeah , there is . And you'll keep at least two meters away if you know what's good for you.” 

Dazai grinned cheerfully, but still took a step back, holding up her hands placatingly, though one was hidden in a cast. “Suit yourself.”

Chuuya tried to focus on the mission as she opened the door of the shack, eyes quickly landing on the open cellar door and heading in its direction. But she couldn't. All she could think about was Dazai. “Hey Dazai, you ever heard of Petrus?”

“One of your expensive wines?”

“Well, the night you left, I opened a bottle of Petrus 1889 to celebrate. That's how sick I was of your shit.” Four years of trying to rewrite the reality of that night in her own mind made the lie satisfyingly easy to tell, regardless of if Dazai believed her or not. For years now, she had told herself the lie that she had opened those bottles of wine in celebration. After all, why shouldn't she have celebrated Dazai leaving? All Dazai had ever done was cause her trouble. She was still only causing her trouble. 

“Sounds fun. I just put a bomb on your car that night.”

Chuuya paused on the stairs, pinching her eyes shut as she repressed a fresh wave of anger, and Dazai took that opportunity to dart ahead of her. “I fucking knew that was you.”

“Of course you did, chibi. That was the point .” 

“I hate you so fucking much,” grumbled Chuuya, continuing their descent into the cellar, now with Dazai leading the way. “I can't wait till this mission is over and I never have to see you again.”

“Eager to get this over with?” asked Dazai, shooting a mischievous look over her shoulder at Chuuya. “What's wrong, you aren't feeling feverish are you?” 

Okay, forget repressing her anger. She put all her force into a kick, one that would crack Dazai’s skull even without Chuuya’s gravity power — but of course she dodged the blow easily, giggling as she ducked. 

“Chuu-uuya!” lilted Dazai, grinning smugly as she pranced down the last few steps. “You know you can't hit me! I know all your moves, your attacks, your breathing patterns—”

“I'm gonna kill you for real, bitch,” interrupted Chuuya fiercely, mainly because she did not want to hear what else was on the list of things Dazai remembered about her. “I’m gonna bash your fucking skull in, I swear to fucking god.”

“Ooh, scary,” Dazai chirped breezily. “Oh, will you look at that! Our damsel in distress.” 

Sure enough, in the center of the room there was a tree, and caged against it was the small body of Q. They were seemingly unconscious, limply held up thick, twisting vines and roots. 

“We’ll have to cut the roots away,” said Dazai. “Lend me your knife, Chuuya.” Chuuya went to reach for it, but before she could Dazai was pulling it out of her own coat. “Oh, that's right! I already swiped it off you.”

The only time she could have done it was when she passed Chuuya on the stairs, and Chuuya’s teeth ground when she thought about how close Dazai’s hand must have been, nearly but not quite touching Chuuya’s person. But as Chuuya tried to formulate the most appropriate way to threaten Dazai, the woman was already striding across the room. She didn't go to cut the child free though, instead angling the knife across Kyusaku’s throat, the edge of the blade barely touching their skin. 

Then, she stopped. And waited. And waited.

Waiting for Chuuya to respond. Well, Chuuya wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. 

After a few beats of silence, Dazai spoke up. “Not going to stop me?”

Chuuya was supposed to bring Kyusaku back alive, Mori’s orders — but she called Dazai’s bluff regardless. “You know I don't fuck with killing kids, but… When I see that creepy brat all I can think of is the rows of body bags, all of them my subordinates that died because of their ability. Do whatever you want. I won't stop you.”

Dazai hummed, expression blank as she looked back at Chuuya, blade still to Kyusaku’s throat. “Hmm. Alright. I will.”

Chuuya wasn't surprised when Dazai sunk the knife into the vines instead of Kyusaku. Still, she huffed, watching as Dazai began hacking the plants away from the child’s body. “Gone soft, have you? Your new goody-two-shoes act makes me sick. It would probably be kinder to put them out of their goddamned misery, after the torture you put them through in the name of training .”

“While Q is alive, my safety is guaranteed,” explained Dazai flatly, cutting away at vine after vine. “I'm the only one who can stop their ability, so if they’re alive, the Port Mafia can't kill me. It's just logical.”

“Right. The oh-so-rational Dazai, all logic and no feelings,” sneered Chuuya, aware of how obviously bitter she sounded, but unable to stop herself. “God forbid you experience an emotion like a normal fucking human being for once in your life.” 

Dazai just hummed noncommittally in response. Chuuya imagined punching her in the face. 

With the end of the mission in sight, Chuuya tried to power through it, trying not to give Dazai any more insight into her embittered mental state. She didn't even argue when Dazai claimed she was too weak to carry Kyusaku, even though they were a literal child, and frankly rather small for their age. She just rolled her eyes and hauled the child onto her back, letting Dazai carry the creepy doll instead. This was almost over, she told herself, and then she would never have to see Dazai’s stupid face again. She was already imagining getting off work, going home, maybe taking a nice bath, and drinking until she didn't have to think about Dazai or picture her stupid face—

And then, as Chuuya stepped outside shack into the cool night air, something big hit her, wrapping around her waist as it nearly knocked her to the ground, Kyusaku hitting the ground behind her with a dull thud as Chuuya dropped the child. 

“Ah, my shoulders are stiff,” complained the strange, unearthly voice of the Guild member, a tall, gaunt man with long black hair that Chuuya remembered was called Lovecraft. Chuuya had hit him hard enough earlier that he really should have stayed down, but as Chuuya followed the line of the tentacle down to see her attacker, her stomach lurched. The man’s head was twisted the wrong way around, upside down like his neck had been broken. “Perhaps I've been working too hard recently.”

“What—” Chuuya started to shout, but then the tentacle around her waist lifted and threw her against the side of the cabin with unnatural strength. If she was anyone else, the force alone might have snapped her spine. As it was, Chuuya was more than capable of using her power to cushion her landing, though as collateral damage she did end up smashing through the wall of the shack. 

“Wow!” cheered Dazai from somewhere behind her. “I guess this is the power of the Guild’s ability users?”

Chuuya shot a glare behind her as she got back onto her feet, dusting wood debris off herself. “Are you gonna keep talking, or are you gonna be fucking useful for once?”

“Oh relax, Chuuya,” said Dazai cheerily, sauntering up beside her. “We both know that I could stop this with just a touch of my little fing—”

Dazai never finished her gloating. Instead, another giant, writhing tentacle had struck her, throwing her a few dozen feet, her thin frame slamming into a tree like a ragdoll, the impact so loud Chuuya swore her heart stopped beating for a moment. She heard herself call her alpha’s name before she could stop herself in embarrassment, adrenaline shooting through her veins, but before she could move another tentacle was swinging in Chuuya’s direction. Prepared this time, she dodged the blow easily, putting the full force of gravity behind her fist as she hit the appendage away, sprinting over to where Dazai had been thrown. Dazai was staggering to her feet, and Chuuya could not deny the relief that rushed through her, seeing Dazai on her, admittedly unsteady, feet. 

“Dazai!” she shouted, trying to keep panic from her voice. Failing. There was a hysterical part of Chuuya’s brain that was still insisting that she couldn't lose Dazai again, not like this, not when she just got her back, even though she also knew that she didn't have Dazai back, not really. Her instincts didn't know that, though. She couldn't calm her wildly beating heart, couldn't shake the deep, primal feeling of her alpha being in danger. “Dazai! Are you— How badly hurt are you?”

The alpha, hunched over in pain as she dragged herself upright, looked up at Chuuya, eyes dark and blood dripping from her mouth — and then she started to laugh. 

“What— did you hit your head?” sputtered Chuuya. Dazai’s laugh was unnerving, like the creepy way she would giggle when they were kids, but with a new, manic edge to it. In response to her question, Dazai laughed harder and shook her head. 

“Those tentacles sure are strange,” said Dazai mysteriously when she had finished laughing. “My ability doesn't effect them at all.”

“Huh? But that would mean—”

“Mmhmm,” affirmed Dazai, face contorting in an uncanny grin. 

“That's not a special ability.” 

“Chuuya… wake up Chuuya, now isn't the time to be lazy.”

Bleach and vinegar. A mafia safe house.

Slowly, Chuuya managed to crack her eyes open, though even that much movement felt exhausting. Her whole body was exhausted. “Wha—” she managed to croak out, before her dry throat burned and she began to cough. 

“There you are, puppy,” teased Dazai, filling Chuuya’s entire vision as she tilted her head down, upside down from Chuuya’s point of view, single exposed eye reflecting in the dim light — and it took Chuuya a moment to process that her head was in Dazai’s lap. That was fine though, because Chuuya didn't feel like she could move, and Dazai was bringing a water bottle to her lips, tipping little sips of water into Chuuya’s dry mouth. “You're so heavy when you're unconscious, you know. I needed help getting you in and out of the car.”

Chuuya cleared her throat when she could, though talking was still difficult. Arahabaki put so much strain on her body, everything was difficult afterwards. “Did the mission—?” 

“Went fine, obviously. It's not like anyone can take you down when you use Corruption.”

Well, anyone besides Dazai. Dazai, who was running her cold fingers through Chuuya’s hair now. Letting her eyes flutter shut, Chuuya relished the feeling, the coolness of her skin and of No Longer Human, soothing the burning Arahabaki left within her. Normally, Dazai would never be so gentle with Chuuya. She was only like this when Chuuya was in heat, or after she used Corruption. 

Especially now that they were mated. Now more than ever, there could be no closeness between them in public. Their public fights had gotten more vicious in the months since getting mated, somewhat performatively — but Chuuya couldn't deny taking some of her frustration with the situation out on Dazai during those arguments, and she suspected Dazai felt similarly. She tried not to take it personally. 

“You did good today, Chuuya,” she heard Dazai praise, and even though she already felt sleep tugging at her consciousness, she felt herself smile just a little. It may not be much, but this was more than Dazai gave to anyone else. So, for this fleeting moment, she luxuriated in this small act of tenderness from her alpha, in her touch and her scent. 

She hadn't known it would be the last time Dazai would touch her like that. She hadn't known that just a month later, Dazai would be gone. 

“Remember when we first used Corruption? We destroyed that entire enemy organization, along with all the surrounding buildings. People started calling us the Twin Darkness after that. Of course, if I can't stop you quick enough, you’ll die.”

Like Chuuya needed reminding any of that, she thought as the monster that had been Lovecraft loomed large behind her. Like she hadn't replayed every moment she had shared with Dazai in her head a million times, as if remembering every fight and mission and hidden rendezvous would reveal something new and explain why things ended the way they did. 

“It's your choice,” Dazai said, voice emotionless, face betraying nothing as she held Chuuya’s gaze, eyes nearly black in the low light. Despite herself, this time it was Chuuya who laughed grimly. That was Dazai’s worst joke yet. 

“My choice?” she echoed bitterly, glaring up at the alpha who had ruined her goddamn life. “You only say that when you know I don't have any choice at all.”

She turned away sharply before Dazai could read anymore of the emotions she knew would cross her face. The worst part was, she knew Dazai was right. This was their only shot. Their only chance at survival was Corruption, and that meant Chuuya had to trust Dazai.

No. The worst part was, Chuuya was all too ready to trust Dazai again, at least with this. The worst part was that some part of her couldn't help but trust Dazai, or at least want to trust her. Dazai had let her down in every way, but still, Chuuya would place her life in her hands. 

Taking a deep breath, Chuuya stood before the monstrosity, all writhing tentacles and pulsing viscera, closing her eyes as she methodically began removing her gloves. 

“Oh, grantors of dark disgrace… Do not wake me again…” 

Arahabaki devoured her mind like a forest fire, white hot and all consuming. There was nothing but fire, nothing but destruction as the raw force of power that was Arahabaki threatened to tear Chuuya apart. It was like Chuuya didn't exist anymore, or perhaps that she had switched places with Arahabaki, only along for the ride in her own body. She saw through Arahabaki’s eyes, felt what it felt, understood the world in the same inhuman way it did.

But Chuuya’s body had never really been her own.  

It was mostly a blur when Arahabaki was in control, so all Chuuya usually remembered was flashes of red, heat, and the taste of blood in her mouth. She vaguely registered when the towering mass of flesh that had been Lovecraft finally fell, ripping apart from the inside out as Dazai’s bomb weakened it for her — and Chuuya keenly felt Arahabaki’s savage glee at the destruction. She heard her own voice laughing, and even though Lovecraft was defeated, Chuuya knew that wouldn't stop Arahabaki. It would never stop. Her voice cackled manically, and she felt ripples in space as Arahabaki threw attacks at nothing, exploding the ground around her just to feel that violent rush—

“The battle is over. You can rest, Chuuya.” Dazai’s voice washed over Chuuya the same way No Longer Human did, flame extinguished by ice water. The world spun as Chuuya was suddenly in control of her own body again, the pain and ache of her body nearly being torn apart hitting her all at once. 

And Dazai’s hand was wrapped around her wrist. Chuuya was too tired for the way the cool touch made her chest ache, her pulse hammering under Dazai’s finger tips. 

Chuuya tore her hand away as her legs gave out underneath her. Her head was pounding and her vision blurring, and she knew she wouldn't be conscious for long. She could taste blood in her mouth. 

“Shitty… Dazai…” she ground out, struggling to speak. “You’re supposed to stop me… right away…”

“And miss the show?” Dazai asked teasingly, kneeling down next to Chuuya, hovering the way she always did in the aftermath of Corruption, like she needed to be ready to keep Arahabaki from breaking free again. “Besides, you're hard to catch when you're being a tiny little atom bomb like that.”

It wasn't fair, Chuuya thought, even as her head was swimming in pain. It wasn't fair, how much Chuuya wanted to forget everything and trust Dazai again. It wasn't fair that she wanted to crawl into Dazai’s arms. Wanted to let the ache of gravity be soothed by her alpha’s touch. Wanted her head in Dazai’s lap, her fingers running through Chuuya’s hair. It wasn't fair. 

Miserably, Chuuya had to spit out a mouthful of blood before she could talk again. “I trusted you with Corruption,” she rasped, trying not to sound too vulnerable, too sincere. “So just…just take me to the pick up point, okay?”

Her vision swam, and Chuuya wasn't able to keep her body upright any longer, slumping forward onto the ground in front of her, but she could still hear Dazai’s lilting response. “You can count on me, Chuuya.”

Another one of Dazai’s shitty jokes, thought Chuuya before she lost consciousness entirely. But maybe she would actually do it, maybe she would show her Chuuya this little bit of concern and then—

Chuuya’s world went black, plummeting hard into the dreamless void of sleep. 

There was no way for Chuuya to tell how long she had been unconscious, but based on the dryness of her mouth and the pain in her back, it must have been a few hours at least, which was confirmed when she tried to crack open her eyes open and was stopped by the blindingly bright light.

She knew what she would see when her eyes adjusted to the light, but her heart sank anyway as blinding white congealed into the blue and greens of a sun-dappled forest where she laid. Alone. 

Right. She had known this would happen. She had known, but it hurt anyway, hurt in every way as she managed to push her weak body into an upright position. She was too exhausted to feel anything but pained resignation, she wasn't even angry as she sat up, head dizzy and pounding and—

A flash of black caught her eye, and when Chuuya turned her stiff neck she recognized her hat, coat, and gloves — folded and stacked next to Chuuya’s body. Dazai, she thought, heart constricting painfully. She imagined Dazai carefully handling her clothes, folding them as neatly as she could manage to leave next to Chuuya, before leaving her alone in the dark forest. 

“Stupid bitch,” she muttered to the empty forest around her, unsure if she was talking about Dazai, or herself.