Bungo Stray Dogs Oneshots

Bated Breath

Dazai wondered how he ended up like this.
Bullets flying through the smoky air, clearing a path for fresher air. He hated the fact that he actually felt a rush as he inhaled the gunpowder.
Was it because it reminded him of the dark old days? His past haunted him like a tenacious one sided lover, who failed to acknowledge his delusions.
Oftentimes he found himself actually giving in to the warm embrace of his mafia days, the memories feeling more hot, than warm. Hot enough to burn through his clothes and leave burns on his porcelain skin.
Was this just that? Was he melting into a ghost of his past?
No.
This was much worse, he thought.
Because behind one of those bullets, stood a gun, aimed point blank at him. A slight tug at the trigger, and he would be a few grams lighter, a part of his brain flying out from his skull.
Yet, the one who held the gun stood perfectly still, almost like a statue.
Their finger on the trigger, their eyes sharp, and their lips in a smirk.
An oddly warm smirk.
"Osamu.", they whispered, almost inaudible considering the many bullets zipping past his ears, fuzzing up his brain with the constant ringing.
Nobody could hear them. But he could. Because he knew those lips well. Way too well. He knew how they curled, and had almost memorised the way they called his name. They didn't have to let out any sound, just the way they moved, told him they were tracing out the syllables of his name.
As I said, he knew those lips well.
Because he was caressing them last night. He was whispering sweet nothings as he slid a tongue into her mouth, those very lips opening in delicious moans at his antics in bed.
He knew her so well, that all it took was a look, and he knew what was coming.
He threw his head back. His torso leaned back due to the sudden movement, and in one swift motion, he fell to the ground, unmoving.
She giggled, as her love, for the man lying in a pool of blood by his head, a few feet from her heels, oddly, only grew.
She waited patiently for her men to finish the task before them.
Soon enough, many lifeless bodies laid on the ground, and shot members of the ADA stared back at her, their looks deadly.
Sadly, that's all they could do; glare at her. They were hopelessly wounded, and their mastermind, the man who always figured it all out, who was a hundred steps ahead of their enemies, was lying stupidly at her feet.
"I'll kill you."
You heard the weretiger mumble out helplessly.
He was injured, and his powers would take time to kick in due to the severity of the blows he had been given.
Your men weren't amateurs, they were pretty good at their job.
"I'd love to see you try, hun.", you said, in a voice too calm and caring for the situation you were in.
Kunikida coughed up some blood as he tried to apply pressure to his wound.
The doctor used one hand to hold her head in place, as the drugs she had ingested unbeknownst to her, were forcing her to sleep. A simple yet effective method to slow down her healing. If she gives in to the sleeping pills, she won't stay awake to heal her fatal wounds, and the grogginess didn't let her focus.
//Kenji had been hooked onto an IV, a constant supply of glucose keeping him asleep.//
Kyoka had been sedated, and Tanizaki had been dealt with, by using Naomi as a distraction, causing him to lose focus for a split second. That was enough to wound him enough to immobilise him.
"Take them away."
Your men bowed and got to work, working on taking away everyone, except your lover.
Atsushi had already healed a little, and had regained enough energy to scream at you.
"YOU'RE DEAD! IM GOING TO KILL YOU! You.. I -", Atsushi yelled, before being sedated by your men.
You watched as everyone, save for Yosano san, was given a heavy sedative, and rushed out of the room.
They had to work hard to keep her awake; she couldn't pass out yet, for her own sake.
The room cleared, and now it was just you, and him. You watched his body, sprawled on the floor.
You kneeled down near his face, observing his beautiful features.
Hesitantly, you traced a finger on his jaw. His face felt so soft.
Angelic even.
You admired him some more, tracing his cheeks, his lovely lips, and his nose. Your thumb brushed his eyebrows lovingly, before leaning down to his lips.
You kissed him.
Passionately.
Some would call you a psychopath, for doing something so loving to someone you had killed.
The funny thing is, Dazai kissed back.
"Was I convincing enough, Bella?"