#bsdfic

once he finds out you are actually feeling very ill he does his best to get time off work, and he honestly doesn't really know what to do. he knows that you need medicine and a lot of rest, so he will have his subordinates run to the local stores and get all the essentials for you.

if you need anything he is literally at your beck and call, he doesn't care what time of day it is, and honestly he doesn't trust you by yourself in this state, he gets very worried because he feels like everything he loves can be taken away from him at any moment, so even if you try to convince him it is just a bad common illness, he doesn't want to leave your side.

he spoon feeds you medicine and makes sure that you eat and usually gets you soup, or if you are craving something then you best believe you will have it. he spares no expense.

pm!dazai usually is busy teasing and bantering with you but he takes a bit more of a gentle teasing approach rather than trying to rile you up. he just barely teases you when he lays cold rags on your forehead or feels your cheek with the back of his hand.

he doesn't refrain from affection, no matter how many times you try to tell him that he could get sick, he won't hear any of that. he will be kissing you, and staying incredibly close to you at all times, and when he can't be near you he is constantly checking on you or sending people to get you things. the slightest mention of you needing something and he is on it.

mori probably tries to tease him about this, or tell dazai that having someone like you around is a liability but dazai didn't care about his opinion before and he certainly doesn't now. no one understands him like you do and no matter how minor the sickness is, dazai won't have you worrying or lifting a finger.

once you are better about a few days later, dazai is not only relieved but absolutely thrilled for you to not fight with him about affection, he is free to be in your personal space as much as he desires.

he will constantly tell you that he can't believe he had to take time off work and take care of you, or that you are so "weak." but he is completely joking and you know that, because his tone is light and he doesn't mean anything by it, but he has a hard time being too mushy gushy so he has to be at least a little mean.

he will need to be completely doted on if he gets sick afterward, he will not let you leave his side, barely ever. he will get people to bring him everything he needs and anything you want as long as you don't leave your shared space because he "can't heal if you aren't here."

a/n: i hope this is okay, i know it is really just rambling and not an actual fic, but i wanted to make sure to fill this request before i forget!

As regular as a clockwork, Atsushi would wake up early in the morning, when the soft light of early dawn engulfed the room. Distantly he heard the birds chirping, greeting the sun eagerly with their high-pitched sounds. Usually, he would get out of the futon as soon as he was awake. Splash water onto his face, make breakfast and get to the Agency afterwards were his typical weekday mornings at this point. But it was Saturday so he wanted to take easy for today. For a moment, he remained still, eyelids drooping every once in a while.

Then soon enough, there was a slight movement from behind and he was reminded of the presence next to him. The younger man couldn’t help the smile that slowly graced his lips. To avoid waking up Dazai who was still sleeping, he rolled over carefully.

Looking at the man before him always made his heart stutter, Atsushi knew that he was handsome but this time it was different– special, he’d say. His usual beauty paled in comparison to this moment, where the elder completely shed all of his shields, features devoid of any farce he used to hide his vulnerability.

Entranced, the younger reached out to bury his fingers into the brown locks, caressing it, imprinting the softness brushing against his fingertips into his memory. A gentle sigh escaped Dazai’s lips, and Atsushi chuckled to himself, considering it as his reward. Soon enough, he could feel himself yearning for more, of what he wasn’t certain either; perhaps it was for his attention, response, or Dazai himself. He shifted his hand, palm caressing the elder’s cheek, with his gaze tracing each and every curve of his face.

He let out a deep breath, moving closer to erase the remaining space between them. With his own heartbeat muffling his ears and face barely an inch from one another, Atsushi whispered, “I love seeing this side of you, Dazai-san.”

Soon enough, there was no longer space between them. The young weretiger erased them all by leaving a feather-light kiss against the older man’s temple, but it wasn’t enough. He moved lower, pressing a second one, on his cheek, and another on the corner of his lips.

Once more, he let his gaze roam Dazai’s relaxed features. Overtaken by the deep longing in his heart, Atsushi breathed out slowly before brushing his lips against the man’s chapped ones. Though different from before, a slender hand swiftly found its way to the back of his head, pulling him closer, pressing more firmly. The young weretiger yelped, and he could feel a smirk against his mouth before a tongue came in contact with his. Feeling dazed, he wasn’t sure when Dazai pulled away, it took him a while to regain the clarity to his vision. When he did, his sight was greeted by the mischievous smirk adorning Dazai’s face and he felt his entire own heating up.

“D-Dazai-san,” he squeaked, backing away in embarrassment. “Since when–”

Before he could finish his question, Dazai leaned in, eyes half-lidded. “I’ve been awake from the very beginning.”

Atsushi swallowed, “T-Then… you heard…”

“Of course,” he reached over to place his hand on the side of the younger’s face, fingers slipping behind his reddening ear. “But I was curious of what you were up to since you’d have make breakfast by now.”

Flustered, Atsushi looked everywhere but the man in front of him. “I’m sorry…”

“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai said, his voice soft. “Look at me.”

Slowly, the pair of heterochromic eyes moved, lifting his purple-gold eyes to meet the elder’s tender gaze. Seeing that gaze directed toward him, the younger could feel blood rushing to his cheeks. “Dazai-san, this is embarrassing. Why didn’t you tell me you’re awake?”

Gin slumped over the dining table, her long black hair tangled and all over her face. If she sat up straight she might’ve looked like the ghost from The Ring, along with a pale complexion, bloodshot eyes, and the constant, soft groaning noises coming from the depths of oblivion.

“Fix your hair. It might get in the food.” Ryunosuke set down a plate of freshly cooked omelet. He looked clean-cute and unruffled as always, in his usual all-black attire and his trademark jacket, his source of strength and solace. Gin complied, pulling all her hair back, never mind the knots, and tying it in a loose ponytail.

Ryunosuke pushed a bowl of rice towards her. “You’re on your period, right? You need to eat up.”

Gin tucked her hands in the pockets of her blue hoodie, and looked sheepishly from the food to her brother who was eating only buttered toast. “What about you?”

Ryunosuke shrugged. “I’m fine.” He smiled only the smallest fraction, but Gin noticed. Her brother was never really the type to indulge in food, anyway. This was an established fact, but Gin is relentless in finding ways to make him eat more than just five bites, even if some miniscule part of her told her it’s fine, since she always had an inflated appetite whenever she was on her period and she needs all these more than him.

“I’ll need to meet with Dazai-san and the man-tiger later on,” Ryunosuke added, before taking a sip of his tea. “Will you be okay alone?”

Gin nodded, her chopsticks poking the rice.

“I’ve informed Higuchi as well that you’ll be out of commission for a bit.”

“Well,” Gin muttered, spearing a part of omelet onto her chopsticks, “she’d understand the most, since she’s also a girl.” Carefully, she took a bite at the corner of the egg, checking its saltiness, before eating the rest.

Ryunosuke nodded.

They had a quiet breakfast together, the only sounds being the clinking of Ryunosuke’s teacup and Gin’s chopsticks. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was never uncomfortable. It was pleasant. The kind that can only be appreciated by two people who barely knew peace in their younger years.

Almost immediately, Ryunosuke stood up, and placed his dishes in the sink. Gin watched him thoughtfully, chewing her omelet and rice slowly.

Ryunosuke checked his phone, his other hand on the doorknob of the front door. “I need to go. Sorry for leaving the dishes to you.”

“You owe me dinner then,” Gin said, swallowing her food and grinning brightly.

“Got it.” Ryunosuke chuckled, and closed the door behind him.

Gin hummed softly to herself as she ate the rest of her food. She took her time in eating, savouring the food her brother prepared. She was tall enough for her feet to touch the floor, but she swung them back and forth, like she did when she was a little girl, sitting on the edge of a dumpster in some back alley, watching people walk by, blocking the glare of the neon lights of store signs.

By the time she finished, it was almost eleven o’clock.

As she fixed the dishes in the sink, the doorbell rang.

“Did you forget something?” she wondered aloud, before opening the door and meeting Tachihara’s bandaged nose.

“Wah, you look really shitty today,” he grimaced, taking in Gin’s haphazard hair and poor choice of clothing (blue hoodie and black shorts). “I know you look shitty everyday, but today you overstepped that boundary.”

“What the fuck do you want, Tachihara?” Gin was polite on regular days, used only the mildest curse words towards Tachihara even. But today she was on her second day of her period and she had disgusting sensations in her underwear and her cramps were out of hand. She raised a fist, ready to conk Tachihara unconscious.

Tachihara raised an eyebrow. “I’m visiting you, you idiot.”

Gin lowered her fist. “Huh?”

“Higuchi told me you were sick today. Commander’s out with Dazai again, and there’s no mission for us today, so I visited you, you dumbass.”

Gin weighed options in her head, most of them were various ways on how to murder Tachihara quietly and dump his body somewhere unknown and not get tried for treason within the Mafia. In the end, she decided to be civil.

“Fine. Come in.”

Tachihara shuffled in the apartment, taking care to remove his shoes at the entrance. “Excuse me for intruding.”

Gin watched him carefully, her arms folded over her chest. He was dressed in casual clothes, sure, and he had a plastic bag with a convenience store logo printed over it.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, these?” He lifted the bag for emphasis. “Some instant noodles and pain relievers.”

It was Gin’s turn to raised an eyebrow.

“Higuchi told me you had woman problems today, that’s why you’re sick. She suggested I get you some pain relievers too, just in case.”

Tachihara can be an ass at times, but he was soft deep down. Gin felt the tips of her ears heat up. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

She took the plastic bag from him, and arranged the contents on the dining table. Five different instant noodle flavours, three packs of potato chips, two boxes of pain killers, and a small can of mints.

“Huh, thanks again.”

Tachihara smiled smugly, and Gin swore she could see sparkles emanate from him. Ugh. Cringey.

“Of course you should thank me. I decided to grace your day with my presence, and the lease you can do is be grate—”

His sentence was cut off when Gin punched him squarely in the stomach.

“God you’re such a handful.”

“That…ouch…”

Gin shrugged, and left Tachihara lying on the floor of the hallway. She went back to arranging the instant noodles and potato chips in the cupboard above the sink, and went back to finish washing the dishes.

“You going to have lunch here?”

Tachihara raised a thumbs-up.

“Do you want something in particular?”

“Nah, anything’s fine. M’not picky.”

As Gin set the washed plates in the dish rack, she glanced back at Tachihara, who was currently sitting, massaging his stomach where Gin punched him.

She walked over to where he was sitting, and held out a hand for him to use as leverage.

“Wanna help me cook lunch?”

Tachihara looked warily from the hand to the owner of the hand, before taking it.

Instead of pulling himself up, though, he pulled Gin down to the floor with him. Gin barely had time to register before he found her face in Tachihara’s chest, his knees around her waist.

An extremely compromising position.

“Sure, I can help,” Tachihara replied cheerily in her ear. Thank god he couldn’t see her face, lest he’d see how red Gin’s face was. If Tachihara did he’d never live it down.

“Get off, you asshole!”