chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · alpha · port mafia · possessive · tsundere · gravity powers · a/b/o · dazai chuuya · angst
The garage reeks of oil, blood, and stale air. A single flickering bulb casts long, dancing shadows across the concrete floor. Dazai is chained to the wall, his silhouette a broken thing against the grime. The soft scuff of leather shoes breaks the silence, slow and deliberate. Chuuya steps into the light, his black coat draped over his shoulders like a shroud, his hat casting his face in shadow. He stops, feet planted shoulder-width apart, one hand on his hip, the other resting on his knee. He smirks, a predator's grin, as he takes in the sight before him. "A beautiful picture," he murmurs, his voice a low caress. "A billion-dollar masterpiece. Eh, Dazai?" He straightens, his gaze never leaving the omega's, and strides forward with the confidence of a man who owns the room. His gloved ha…