OOHH we’re going t4t with this one!!

Yokohama’s heavy red moon is the last thing Akutagawa sees before his face meets the rough brick wall of the dirty abandoned alleyway. Blood bursts from his nose, dripping onto his already busted lips—battle wounds from the two rounds he and the police officer went before his inevitable loss—but he refuses to show weakness.

Instead, he licks away the taste of hot metal streaming over his mouth and spits it into the face behind him, the one holding his cuffed wrists. “Fucking pig.”

Suddenly all the oxygen is stolen from his frail lungs as he’s slammed into the wall, the hot line of Atsushi’s body caging him in. “You can’t fool me, Akutagawa. Try pretending with someone you haven’t spread your legs for.”

“Go to hell,” Akutagawa sneers through a wheeze.

Atsushi clicks his tongue and Akutagawa wishes he could tear it from his mouth and swallow it whole. “Does that mean you won’t behave and let me take you in?” A hand toys with the waistband of his pants, waiting for an answer.

Akutagawa only has one to give. “In your dreams, Officer.”

There's a smug grin in the voice at his ear when it rumbles, “I was hoping you’d say that,” before teeth bite into his lobe, and his pants are pushed down, exposing his bare skin.

Akutagawa moans, head lulling onto the nearest study shoulder, as the cold night air hits his pale flesh. It’s startling, but not as much as the blunt object slipping between his thighs. He gasps, not knowing whether to move towards or away from the intrusion. Hard, heavy, thick, and midnight blue.

A nightstick.

Filthy.

He makes his choice, succumbing to the glide now made easier with how much slick is dripping from his cunt. And with every sinuous roll of his hips, Akutagawa chases the friction, mourning its absence when Atsushi cruelly takes it away. Each graze of his clit, each frustrating pass of his holes does nothing but remind Akutagawa how empty he feels, how deliciously Atsushi has filled him before.

Atsushi has put many different things inside him, but he’s always excited and slightly terrified to try something new. He welcomes the anxiety, lets it increase the tension building between them.

“Mmm, ah-Atsushi…” Akutagawa can admit he sounds throughly fucked already, his voice raspy and broken.

“There you are. See how good you can be for me, Ryuunosuke.” Atsushi seems in a trance, too lost in their game of tiger and mouse. Too focused on Akutagawa trapping himself beneath deadly paws. “Tell me how much you want it.”

Akutagawa doesn’t even try to deny his request. “P-please,” he begs, riding the stick between his legs. Becoming more wanton, as if the harder he ruts against it, the faster Atsushi will shove it inside him. “I want it.”

A fist holds both his wrist in one hand and Atsushi uses the leverage to rock forward, knocking against the weapon and Akutagawa’s tailbone. “I know. I know you do.”

It’s so close to Atsushi actually fucking him that the thought drives Akutagawa wild, has him whimpering on every thrust.

The sounds echoing in the elicit space seems to make Atsushi feral himself, surely soaking his uniform trousers, and Akutagawa can’t help imagining the taste of him through the remnants of his own blood on his tongue. Remembers the time Akutagawa ate him out until the well respected detective was mewling like a kitten while bouncing on his entire fist.

But Atsushi’s animalistic tendencies during sex makes his movements sloppy and rushed and without either realizing, the rounded tip of the nightstick accidentally catches on Akutagawa's sensitive cunt and sinks in, stuffing him so full any breath he regained vanished and his vision goes spotty.

Atsushi fails to notice—most likely distracted by his own impending orgasm—and continues his brutal pace. Only now, he’s pounding Akutagawa in earnest, fucking him so hard the criminal couldn’t scream if wanted to. It’s excruciating and so so wonderful.

But not even he can take the sudden pressure after being empty and needy for so long. His belly floods with heat as a wail is ripped from his throat. He cums with Atsushi’s name falling from his lips and his body squeezing agonizingly tight around a piece of government property in the sweetest pleasure pain he’s ever felt.

Dazai would have too much fun edging Chuuya until he’s begging Dazai to fill him in every hole, swallowing deep around the strap as Dazai fucks his face, bouncing on it as Dazai pumps him full over and over, and then when he starts to whine and squirm from how uncomfortable his belly feels all round and stuffed, Dazai will coo and rub it for him, adding a little pressure here and there to watch the fake cum leak out only to scooping it up with his fingers and fuck it back into Chuuya saying, “but this is what Chuuya wanted, I only did what he asked”, and brings him to another orgasm while Chuuya whimpers from over stimulation and Dazai making a mess of him

Atsushi wouldn’t be able to stop watching him from that day on, anytime he took off his suit jacket, anytime he saw him off duty in even tighter outfits that hugged his hips and showed off his body, he would remember how Chuuya felt between his claws, how he wanted to dig them in and make the executive bleed and submit, how he wanted to bend him over until Chuuya was presenting his pussy for Atsushi’s fat tiger cock to fill him until he was screaming for Atsushi’s cubs…

Dazai thinks the entire affair is hilarious and keeps dropping things for Chuuya to pick up in Atsushi’s presence, throwing the weretiger a cruel smirk when he starts to sweat and blush under his huge coat