#pred!dazai

Tag list

Tag list

@handheldsquishmallow @chuuyas-height @smalltendencies

Night had silently settled over Yokohama, a deep, velvety darkness that made even the Agency's offices, on the other side of the city, seem calm and peaceful. A light breeze drifted through the open window of the small apartment Dazai and Chuuya shared, one of the few places where chaos didn't reign at every moment.

His room was dimly lit, illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. Dazai slept as always: lying on his back, his hair spread across the pillow, one arm around Chuuya's waist. A soft, steady purr emanated from his chest: the instinct of a predator when it feels warm, safe, and snuggled up next to something precious.

Chuuya used to make fun of him for that.

"You sound like a motorboat," he muttered.

And Dazai would reply, "Just for you, Chibi," before snuggling closer and purring louder on purpose.

But tonight, something wasn't right.

Subtle. Strange.

The moon shifted. The air grew colder. And as the night wore on past midnight, a faint glow—like a silent pulse of light—came over Chuuya's body. He didn't move. He didn't feel the change spreading through his skin, tightening like a thread shrinking.

He simply… got smaller.

Tiny.

Until Chuuya Nakahara, gravity manipulator, former executive and current husband, measured only 3.5 inches tall.

Still fast asleep, curled up in the exact same spot but instead of the mattress, on the pillow, but now barely the size of Dazai's thumb.

He seemed calm. Small. Oblivious to everything.

And very, very close to Dazai's face.

Dazai, still unconscious, stirred. His predatory instincts sharpened. Predators always slept lightly, alert to the slightest scent or movement, especially the borrowers. His sense of smell, keen enough to track even the faintest trace across the room, throbbed at the presence of something small, warm, and alive.

Something he loved.

Something he wanted to have close by.

A soft sound escaped Dazai's throat, something between a purr and a sleepy hum. His lips parted slightly. His tongue instinctively slid out, brushing against the pillow.

And then-

He grazed Chuuya.

The tiny man let out a sleepy grunt, barely audible, stirring without waking. Dazai's tongue slid easily beneath him, enveloping him as if he weighed nothing. The pred's mouth opened wider, his sleeping body obeying only instinct: soft, automatic.

Chuuya stirred slightly only when the warm, slippery surface lifted him up.

“Mmm… what the—!?”

His eyes snapped open just as the darkness of Dazai's mouth closed around him.

"DA—!"

The rest of his scream faded as Dazai—his eyes still closed—softly sealed his lips, savoring the gentle warmth within. A deep, contented purr coursed through his body. His tongue reflexively curled around Chuuya; he didn't crush him, only envelop him in the soft, moist warmth of a predator's instincts on autopilot.

"Dazai! DAZAI! Wake up—mmph—HEY!"

But the predator didn't hear him. Not consciously. He simply tilted his head back slightly and swallowed.

A slow and natural gulp.

Chuuya felt himself being squeezed downward, dragged through the tight, rhythmic muscles of Dazai's throat. He slid helplessly but safe, down the esophagus, screaming and writhing as he felt himself moving, the world around him becoming an ever-narrowing tunnel of warmth and pressure.

From the outside, a small and smooth squirming bulge descended through Dazai's throat before disappearing beneath his collarbone.

Moments later, Chuuya tumbled gently into the soft, warm space of Dazai’s holding stomach— the pred's pouch-like chamber designed precisely for this purpose. Safe, but one where he couldn't escape.

“OH, FOR THE— DAZAI, YOU MORON!”

His voice bounced uselessly off the fleshy walls.

Above him, Dazai let out a pleased purr and squeezed a pillow tighter.

Chuuya planted his tiny hands on the warm, pulsing wall of the stomach-pocket and kicked in frustration.

“I swear Dazai, when you wake up, you are dead.”

In response, he could feel the faint vibrations of Dazai's snores and soft purring.

// // //

MORNING

The sunlight warmed the bedroom.

Dazai stretched, yawned, and blinked slowly, staring at the empty mattress beside him.

"Huh?" he murmured. "Where's my beloved spouse? My little tempest? My compact ball of fury?"

He sat up, his hair sticking out in all directions, looking around the room.

“Chuuyaaa~? Have you run away again? I promise I’ll only remind you of it for the rest of your life.”

Then-

squirm.

Dazai froze.

Slowly, his hand slid down to his abdomen. The slightest movement wriggled beneath his palm.

A very familiar movement.

"Oh," he said with a dawning realization. "Oh, no."

He lifted his shirt slightly.

A clearly squirming bulge was pressing outward.

"Chibi? Is that you?"

From inside: “YES, OF COURSE IT’S ME, YOU ABSOLUTE MORON! LET ME OUT RIGHT NOW!”

Dazai grimaced, his ears slightly flattened with guilt. "Ah. I ate you in my sleep, didn't I?"

“YES! YOU DID! YOU F—ING MACKEREL!! LET ME OUT ALREADY…!”

“Ah. This is kind of romantic if you think about it...”

Chuuya kicked the stomach wall.

“I SWEAR TO GOD—”

"Okay, Okay, hold on, I'll get you out of here," Dazai said, gently rubbing the squirming spot soothingly, his tone apologetic. "But... you're awfully small, aren't you?"

“YOU JUST REALIZED THAT?!”

Dazai’s brow furrowed.

“Chibi… why are you so tiny?”

“How am I supposed to know?! Maybe you did something!”

Dazai gasped dramatically. "Accusations? From inside my body? How rude!"

He earned another kick for that.

But beneath the humor, worry fluttered in Dazai's chest. He pressed his palm more gently against the pouch.

"Are you hurt?" he asked in a low voice.

Chuuya paused.

“…No. I’m just annoyed. And slimy. And stuck.”

Dazai let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Okay," he said warmly. "Let's get you out of there, my little husband."

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll stop once you are out.”

"You're never going to stop, are you?"

"Nope."

Dazai's stomach gave a small gurgle, —not from hunger, but from Chuuya's renewed, restless squirming.

The pred smiled shyly.

What a morning…

///////

tag list

The sun filtered softly through the tall windows of the Armed Detective Agency, casting golden rays across desks cluttered with files, coffee mugs, and scattered pens. Outside, the world was bustling as always, but inside the office, a rare calm had settled. Morning cases had been wrapped up, paperwork was largely done (at least, delegated to Kunikida), and for once, there was no shouting.

At one particular desk—lazily commandeered by Dazai Osamu—sat a strange scene. Or rather, curled up on the edge of his open book, barely the size of his palm, was a tinier, peacefully slumbering figure. A 4-inch borrower with tousled ginger-copper hair, delicate features, and a navy-blue coat that looked lovingly stitched, now rising and falling with each small breath.

Dazai rested his chin in his hand, elbow on the desk, gazing down at the sleeping form with a growing smirk.

“Oi, Chuuya...” he murmured playfully, voice pitched low. “You’re seriously just gonna nap right here? On the battlefield of paperwork and bureaucracy?”

No response.

Chuuya didn’t stir. One tiny booted foot had slipped over the edge of the page, dangling precariously, and his cheek was smushed into Dazai’s half-written case notes. A faint snore escaped his lips—quiet and soft. The kind of sound Dazai would never let him live down if he were awake.

Dazai's brown eyes sparkled with mischief.

He reached down and gently poked Chuuya’s side with the pad of his finger. “You do realize you’re completely defenseless like this, right? What if I wasn’t me? What if I were a cold-blooded predator with absolutely no self-control?”

Chuuya shifted minutely, a small wrinkle forming between his brows. But still, he didn’t wake.

Dazai gave a mock sigh. “Tsk, tsk. How disappointing. You used to be more alert than this, Hat-rack.”

He paused, his smile deepening into something fond. “But you must be really tired, huh?”

Chuuya had been up late the night before, reorganizing the tiny space Dazai had built for him in a shoebox-sized home beside the desk. He was a little meticulous when it came to cleanliness—and a lot stubborn about not accepting help. So, of course, Dazai had caught him dragging thimbles and buttons around like furniture after midnight.

Now here he was, dozing with his guard completely down, trusting Dazai without hesitation.

His tiny hands twitched, one curling up to his cheek as he sighed in his sleep.

Dazai tilted his head.

“…You’re so small,” he murmured, almost to himself.

His gaze slid to Chuuya’s side, where his tiny chest was rising and falling in rhythm. The curve of his back. His tiny shoulders. His delicate neck.

“…I wonder...”

Dazai leaned closer and extended his hand, brushing his fingers along Chuuya’s side. The borrower flinched slightly in his sleep but didn’t wake. That mischievous glint returned to Dazai’s eyes.

“I wonder if you’d mind taking a nap somewhere even safer, hmm?”

He chuckled under his breath. “You always complain about the draft on this desk.”

And with that, he very gently scooped Chuuya into his palm, careful not to jostle him too much. The little borrower gave a soft noise of protest but stayed asleep, head lolling to the side as Dazai raised him closer to his face.

Now cradled against his fingers, Chuuya looked impossibly small. Dazai hesitated for a moment, simply observing him.

“Would you be mad?” he murmured, grin tugging at his lips. “If you woke up somewhere… unconventional?”

A moment later, Dazai slowly brought Chuuya toward his mouth, letting his tongue just barely flick across his boyfriend’s legs and boots, tasting the faint metallic tang of city dust and the warmth of wool. Chuuya twitched a little in his sleep, but again—no waking.

Dazai licked again, slower this time, savoring the odd but familiar sensation of the borrower’s taste. He’d teased Chuuya with things like this before—quick licks to fluster him, slow ones to make him huff in embarrassment—but he’d never actually gone this far.

Still… today seemed perfect.

“Just a quick visit into my pouch,” he murmured softly. “No danger. I promise.”

With one last glance around the office—empty, thank goodness—Dazai opened his mouth fully and gently guided Chuuya’s sleeping form onto his tongue. His fingers held the borrower steady until he was lying completely inside, warm and curled just slightly on the wet muscle.

Chuuya stirred faintly, a noise barely audible. But with Dazai keeping his movements slow and deliberate, he didn’t wake.

Dazai closed his lips, holding his boyfriend inside his mouth with a kind of reverence. He didn’t chew—of course not. Just held him there, his tongue carefully adjusting to cradle the tiny weight.

Then, after a long moment, Dazai tilted his head back—and swallowed.

It was slow, purposeful and careful. A faint gulp echoed in the quiet room as the small lump of Chuuya’s body slid down Dazai’s throat, forming a small but visible bulge in his neck.

Dazai placed a couple of fingers on his neck as he felt the little shape travel downward, beneath his collarbone, and finally vanish inside him with a final, subtle shift.

He placed a hand on his abdomen and grinned.

“You’re lucky I’m not a villain, Chuuya.”

He leaned back in his chair, stretching luxuriously with both hands behind his head. His holding pouch made a small sound, adjusting to the small visitor now inside—warm, safe, and sleeping.

“You’ll probably throw a fit when you wake up,” he mused aloud, tone affectionate. “Something like ‘What the hell, Dazai?!’ and then try to punch my holding pouch from the inside.”

He chuckled softly.

“But I bet you’ll sleep better than ever in there. All warm and quiet, nothing to knock you off the desk or startle you awake.”

His smile turned faintly fond. “You’re safe with me. Always.”

He closed his eyes and let himself relax, hand resting gently over his belly where Chuuya now rested, undisturbed.

//

Inside, Chuuya shifted slightly, a quiet sigh escaping him as he adjusted to the soft, rhythmic motion around him. He didn’t quite wake. Just nestled deeper into the warmth, lulled by the slow, steady beat of Dazai’s heartbeat above and the gentle rise and fall of breath surrounding him.

It was cozy. Strangely comforting. Like being wrapped in a hug from every side.

He’d scold Dazai later, probably. Loudly.

But for now… he just slept.

And Dazai, sitting smug and content in the quiet office, made sure no one disturbed him.

//

A few hours later, the quiet hum of the office was broken only by the distant tapping of a keyboard and the soft whir of the ceiling fan. Afternoon light poured in through the tall windows of the ADA, casting dappled shadows across Dazai’s desk, where he now lounged with a peaceful smile, legs kicked up and arms behind his head.

His eyes were closed.

He could feel the slight warmth in his pouch—the comforting little presence of the 4-inch borrower he’d so gently swallowed earlier. And if he focused just enough, he could feel the tiniest shifts inside. Soft movements. Barely there. But real.

Chuuya was waking up.

Dazai grinned.

//

Inside the cocoon of warmth and muscle, Chuuya stirred.

At first, it was just a blink into darkness. Then a twitch—his body stretching instinctively, his arms reaching out, only to hit… softness. Walls? No—flesh. Warm and damp, surrounding him on every side.

His brows furrowed.

“…Eh?”

Chuuya slowly sat up, blinking through the gentle press of moisture and warmth, utterly disoriented. He could hear something—a deep, rhythmic thump above his head, and the muffled sound of breathing.

His tiny hands pressed against the soft walls. They gave slightly beneath his touch—flexing with each slow inhale Dazai took far above.

“…Wait.”

His eyes widened.

“DAZAI!”

His voice was muffled to the outside world—barely audible—but within, it echoed slightly, bouncing off the holding pouch walls.

“Are you kidding me?! You ate me?!”

Outside, Dazai stifled a laugh and coughed into his sleeve.

“Oh, good morning, my little cherry tomato~” he sang with obnoxious cheer. “Sleep well?”

“Don’t you dare ‘cherry tomato’ me, you idiot!” Chuuya shouted, jabbing the wall closest to him with his fist. “Why the hell is it so warm?! Where the hell am I?!”

Dazai let out a pleased sigh and patted his belly fondly. “You’re inside me, obviously. My second stomach, to be exact.”

A sharp thump hit his abdomen. Chuuya had kicked him.

“I knew I somehow felt you licking me while I was passed out! What the hell is wrong with you?! Who swallows their boyfriend as a joke?!”

Dazai leaned closer to the desk, resting his elbows and cupping his chin like a giddy child. “You were so peacefully asleep… I didn’t want to wake you up. And I did think it might be… cozy in there.”

“Cozy?!” Chuuya sputtered from inside. “It’s like sleeping in a giant’s humid sock!”

Dazai chuckled, the sound rumbling faintly through his body and vibrating the small space Chuuya was in. The sensation made the borrower’s breath hitch for a second—not painful, just… odd. Surrounding.

“I will kill you when I get out of here,” Chuuya muttered, crossing his arms and slumping against the soft wall. “And not quickly.”

Dazai hummed innocently. “But you’re not uncomfortable, right?”

“…That’s not the point!”

“But you are comfy.”

Silence.

Chuuya glared at the darkness surrounding him, cheeks heating. “…Shut up.”

Dazai beamed. “I knew it. You’re warm, safe, and all tucked away where no wind can chill you, and no desk drafts can blow your scarf off. It’s the perfect nap spot.”

“You ate me like a breath mint, Dazai!”

“Please… I savored you.”

Chuuya groaned and let his head fall back with a soft thump against the fleshy wall. He was too tired to start trying to climb up a slippery esophagus—and part of him knew Dazai wouldn’t keep him in here long.

“I swear, the day you decide to be normal, I’m throwing a party.”

“Then you’ll never get that party,” Dazai replied cheerfully. “But admit it—you trust me enough to sleep through being swallowed. That’s kind of romantic, don’t you think?”

“Romantic?!” Chuuya was nearly shrieking now. “Is this some twisted version of a honeymoon to you?!”

Dazai laughed, folding his arms across the part of his abdomen where he could feel the faintest pressure from inside. “Hey, I could’ve done worse. I could’ve kept you in my mouth for hours. Or chewed.”

“Try it and you’re losing a finger.”

“You’re not even big enough to break my skin.”

“I’ll find a way.”

For all his fury, Dazai could tell Chuuya was settling. His breathing was still a little quick, but he was no longer pounding at the walls or trying to climb. The environment wasn’t hostile—it was soft and steady, the rhythmic rise and fall of Dazai’s breathing creating a swaying motion, like being rocked in a hammock.

And annoyingly, it was kind of comfortable.

“…You’re never doing this again,” Chuuya grumbled after a long silence.

Dazai grinned. “Of course not.”

He crossed his fingers under the desk.

“Liar,” Chuuya muttered.

Another soft silence fell between them. Dazai let it stretch. He leaned back in his chair again, hand resting gently on his abdomen, thumb drawing idle circles. The warmth of the sun, the quiet room, the gentle movements inside—it all felt… nice. Peaceful.

“I don’t hate it,” Chuuya mumbled suddenly.

Dazai blinked.

“…What?”

“I said I don’t hate it, alright?! So shut up before I take it back.”

A pause.

Then Dazai grinned so hard his cheeks hurt.

“Oh? My little firecracker’s gone soft on me. You like being close to me, huh? Even if it means being inside me?”

“Say it again and I’m never cuddling you again.”

Dazai snickered but shut his mouth.

He let the moment settle—tender and oddly calming. He could feel Chuuya shifting now and then, adjusting, occasionally poking the wall gently when Dazai laughed too hard. But mostly, he stayed still, basking in the rhythm of the heartbeat above and the gentle motion around him.

Eventually, Chuuya’s voice came, quieter this time.

“…Don’t do it around the others.”

Dazai tilted his head. “Swallow you?”

“No, bake cookies. YES, swallow me, you moron! If Kunikida sees, I’m gonna be labeled ‘Agency Food Item’ and banned from the premises.”

Dazai laughed so hard he almost choked.

“You got it,” he managed between wheezes. “Strictly private snack time.”

“You’re impossible,” Chuuya muttered.

Dazai gave a contented sigh and leaned back once more, resting both hands over the gentle spot where Chuuya lay safely curled inside.

“...But I love you anyway.”

From deep inside, barely audible, came a grumble:

“…Yeah, yeah. Me too.”

/////////

Tag list

Tag list