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Nothing in Dazai’s life was tender. She knew no warm caress of love nor comfort of sanctuary. Her entire existence revolved around one dark and desperate goal. Why should she be gentle with a heart that will soon cease to beat?
“Chuuya,” she called to the petite woman standing at her side. Her voice carried as if she were trying to grab the attention of somebody a world away. Her soft focus rested on the large cherrywood doorway across the intimidatingly expansive, sunless office.
“Yes, boss?” The dutiful redhead didn’t alter her gaze as she replied. Her eyes were also fixed on the entryway, but trained with intent and vigilance. Her thick eyeliner only intensified her stare, painting her as a fierce leopard stalking her prey.
“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Dazai’s tone was flat; there was no indication of interest nor scrutiny.
Chuuya was a bit taken aback by the sudden inquiry. Dazai rarely spoke when she was working. She kept her words few but deadly. But when she looked down at her interrogator, she found her face contorted in a foreign expression. Dazai’s brows were knit tightly as if she were frowning. Her lips, however, were completely relaxed. There wasn’t a trace of feeling anywhere below her eye line. Rather, she looked almost serene, chin resting on long, slender fingers adorned with black nails, filed to a point as if to make herself look more demon than prodigy.
After only a second of silent tension, Dazai’s voice broke through first. “I’m joking, lighten up.” She waved her hand at the woman next to her as if to relieve her of her watch.
“I’m tense enough for the both of us. Speaking with the other executives really just drains the life out of me.”
“I can have one of the men grab you a tea.” Chuuya was reaching for the intercom on the edge of the desk when she felt an airy touch ghost along her wrist.
“No.” Dazai’s voice softened to a purr, and Chuuya could hear the need building underneath. “I don’t want to look at anyone else right now.”
Circling her fingers around the redhead’s arm, Dazai drew her close enough to let her breath skate along the shell of Chuuya’s ear. “Why don’t you let me have a break and you can play boss for a little bit?”
xx
Chuuya cupped Dazai’s face as if it would shatter in the most gentle breeze. Even when she was in charge, Chuuya preened herself on protecting Dazai. She was poised and delicate in handling her mollified mistress.
She placed her gloved fingers in between begging lips and let Dazai’s teeth sink into the leather. One by one, she removed her fingers, leaving the thick fabric in the brunette’s mouth. Dazai peered up with glossy eyes, big and earnest. The obedience made her feel docile and lamb-like in the privacy of the dimly lit office. The fire under her skin flushed her cheeks, painting rose petals across her skin. Here she was something precious, someone to be cherished, like she could’ve been in another life. No, like she is in another life.
“You’re such a good girl,” Chuuya crooned, lingering just above Dazai’s rouge-tipped ear. “Now you hold onto that for me, okay?”
Dazai nodded slowly, the praise easing her further into submission. She could feel Chuuya’s fingers push the wad of leather a bit further past her tongue until she was not quite choking, but completely unable to stop the saliva pooling and spilling from her needy mouth. The smallest whimper slipped past the gag and tugged on the corners of Chuuya’s lips. She felt her heartbeat hasten, enraptured with the damsel unraveling in front of her. She could never take this sight for granted.
Ever since their partnership had shifted, since Dazai sat alone at the head of the Port Mafia, this was the one piece of their mutual conviction that remained unchanged. When they looked each other in the eyes like this, they were one. When their breath synched, ragged and salacious, the world around them ceased to exist. There were no secrets between them when their lips met, and their bare skin became an expanse of enkindled nerves and sweat.
Leaving herself vulnerable to Chuuya, while not wise, was one of the very few things that could make Dazai’s heart race. Avoiding intimacy only made her more ravenous, her body pleading for affection, for care . This was the only place she dare to indulge that need. Her trust in Chuuya was a constant in every universe.
Chuuya wrapped her free hand around Dazai’s wrists, bound tightly by the harrowing hand-me-down she usually kept around her neck. Underneath her now bare finger tips, she could feel the way Dazai’s pulse had quickened in perfect time with her own. Her breath halted in the back of her throat for a moment. She pushed past the ache hollowing out her chest and brought Dazai’s arms above her head and pinned them to the bare mahogany. Splayed across her desk, was pliant in heart and body.
With her princess sufficiently silenced, Chuuya took her freed middle and ring fingers to her own lips and let her tongue slide between them. She dipped them delicately down her own throat until they were slick with spit, taking her time to take in the view before her.
The Demon Prodigy was more like a succubus, sculpted by Hades himself to entrap anyone who dare let their gaze linger a little too long. If looks could kill, she would’ve handily doubled her already astonishing body count.
Chuuya drunk in the scene before her until her thirst was quenched and the figure in front of her was whining with anticipation. She brought her slicked up fingers under the pencil skirt hoisted up Dazai’s lithesome thighs.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” Crimson tendrils framed Chuuya’s face as she leaned over the other woman and nipped at the apprehension that made a home where Dazai’s shoulders met her neck. More flowers bloomed blood-red where her teeth met alabaster skin.
Her welcome was warm and wet when she met Dazai’s cunt. She kept her stare fixed on the porcelain face in front of her, deriving pleasure from the subtle mewl that floated into the air when she pressed one finger into Dazai’s entrance. Her pace started slow, gauging her partner’s reactions to find the exact right spot. When she caught rust-colored irises rolling back, she knew she was where she needed to be.
The visible pleasure coloring the divine features of her lover sent carnal ripples up the redhead’s spine. Gently, she added the other finger, carefully easing into the tension digging its claws into muscle fiber of the woman left at her mercy.
Dazai let out a low moan as her head lolled back. Her drool rolled down her chin and neck as she cried into the make-shift gag. Every vocalization relieved a bit of weight Dazai had been dragging behind her.
“You look so beautiful like that, doll.” Chuuya hummed as she ran her tongue along the paths the saliva carved into Dazai’s throat, savoring every drop like it was the last thing she would ever taste. She pressed soft kisses along Dazai’s jaw and quickened her pace, pumping in and out, pushing her partner deeper and deeper into pleasure. “Like an angel when you come undone for me…”
Tears pooled in Dazai’s eyes, both in response to the electricity pulsing through every centimeter where Chuuya’s skin met hers and to the words of adulation that curled around her lover’s tongue. Nobody else had ever spoken so softly to her, and nobody else ever would.
Chuuya pressed her thumb to Dazai’s clit and her remaining composure was drowned out by her own gasps and cries. She couldn’t speak, but her glossy moue begged her lover not to stop.
“I can keep going, but you have to be quiet for me.” Chuuya barely needed to breathe out the request for Dazai to hear. “Do you want to get caught?”
Dazai shook her head in response but just hardly managed to stifle her whine when she felt Chuuya’s fingers curl. Her vision flashed white, and when it returned, she could barely make out the smirk on the redhead’s face through the blur.
Dazai melted as Chuuya rubbed slow, arduous circles into the brunette’s clit and continued to pulse against the bundle of electrified nerves.
“Just like that babygirl, you’re doing so well,” the executive crooned when she felt her boss spasm around her fingers. The way Dazai’s breath quickened with the adoration begged a grin from Chuuya. God, she loved seeing the woman who commanded the dark, the woman who instilled fear in the hearts of Yokohama’s entire underground, loosen under her touch. This was hers and hers alone.
She set a rigorous pace, pumping into her bandaged paramour with unmatched precision. The pads of her fingers knew exactly where to land to have Dazai convulsing around her. But still, she cupped her hand under tangled mocha waves and guided her lover’s gaze up to hers. Her eyes were the smoke that clouded the air around the fire burning in Dazai’s rufous irises. In them Dazai saw ardor, pity, lust, and fear. The whole spectrum of humanity was staring her in the face.
Chuuya didn’t need to speak for Dazai to know exactly what she was asking. Furiously she nodded, pleading for more - harder, faster - and Chuuya was more than happy to take the direction. She increased her speed and the whimpers pouring out of Dazai followed suit.
Chuuya seemed to have forgotten her concern with being heard, taking her tongue to a woefully unattended nipple and drawing a desperate yelp from Dazai. She rolled along the exposed barbels to the tune of her lover pleading through the spit-coated leather. Every lap was followed by an even louder whine, and the thrusts pounding into Dazai’s g-spot soon synched with them both.
"Are you gonna cum for me, princess?" She panted around Dazai's erect nipple. As if she had been awaiting permission, Dazai gasped and gagged her way to her climax, tightening around Chuuya’s fingers as her mind fogged. Waves of feverish desire washed over her and her vision grew hazy.
One of the rare moments she felt only joy, not a single intrusive thought to rob her of her smile, was when she was melting into Chuuya. When she managed to hand over the reins to the one person she dared to trust, she was always left with at least a few moments of bliss. She truly hoped her partner understood how significant that was, though she would never put it to words.
She felt the spit spill over her lips when the glove was removed from her mouth. Immediately, she was met with a tender kiss. Chuuya pulled away with a cocky grin, and the soft glow of the chandelier glimmered around her russet waves like a halo. How could someone look so holy and yet so sinful all at once?
She felt Chuuya’s fingers press against her lips, and dutifully, she opened her mouth to welcome them. She ran her tongue in between, tasting herself on Chuuya’s skin. Her wrists were unbound as she was hoisted up to meet her angel nose-to-nose. Usually, they’d stop here, refraining from the sweet comforts of pillow talk and lingering kisses. Dazai didn’t feel like exercising self-restraint today. She took Chuuya’s lips to hers like a woman starved, yearning for just another torrid moment to silence the dread.
It was selfish, each demand her heart made of Chuuya, but she didn’t feel like being strong today. She wanted to collect whatever crumbs of devotion she could and rename them “Love.” She knew love did not live here, and if it did, she would sooner set it ablaze than let it grow.
There were some days, though, she liked to play pretend, so she clung to Chuuya’s jacket as if letting go meant losing that daydream. She nipped and sucked at Chuuya’s lips like they were the one remedy that could save her from this oxidizing world of a dream , though she would never let them.
When she had grown tired of indulging, she buried her face in the executive’s neck and drew in her scent. Her lungs filled with something almost warm and her mind found some clarity in the notes of bergamot and jasmine.
I love you. I’m sorry that amounts to nothing when it’s said by a girl with a vacant chest.
They didn’t speak, Chuuya simply held her close, and she focused what remained of her strength on holding back any more tears.
I’m so sorry Chuuya, you deserve a happy ending here, too.
But she knew she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do it. This world was not their fairytale.