discerp: (I was cock-blocked)
Mikan Tsumiki 罪木 蜜柑 ([personal profile] discerp) wrote2019-03-18 10:31 pm

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theartofdying: (mine alone)

[personal profile] theartofdying 2019-07-04 09:36 pm (UTC)(link)
He's definitely not as strong as Atsushi or Chuuya, but he's strong enough for this, and the support of the wall and her own strong limbs definitely helps as he holds her up, pressing her back against the cool brick. Mikan starts to fumble with his buttons, and Dazai's not about to stop her; there are bandages wound around his neck, bandages that cover part of one shoulder as they continue down to encircle his chest, but the shoulder she manages to reach is bare, bare enough for her to find skin instead.

She is desperate, isn't she? And he might be a sadist, but it would really be absolutely cruel to prolong this anymore. And he doesn't want to. So as he returns that kiss, he shifts her slightly in his arms, the tip of him pressing at her already slick entrance, pressing inwards. "Tell me if it hurts, Mikan-chan," he breathes, and then kisses her again, kisses her breathless as he pushes upwards, shuddering faintly at the sensation.
theartofdying: (sexy when I'm dying)

[personal profile] theartofdying 2019-07-11 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
It's something of a clue, yes, but then it could just have been a while for her, or she's just smaller than average. And it's not like he'd taken the time to do any actual prep work. Not that she'd asked for it, or that she seems to be missing it, but he does wonder. Even at a time like this, it's not like he can just turn his mind off. It's always picking up context clues, looking at a situation, analyzing...truthfully, there are a lot of times he'd rather be able to turn it off. But then, if he did, he wouldn't be able to use that for her benefit, would he? And that would be a shame.

"I won't," he murmurs against her lips, fingers tight on her thighs, pushing up slowly, slowly, until he's fully seated inside of her, almost breathless for the feeling of it. "You feel amazing, Mikan-chan, it's perfect--" He'll pause for just a moment, long enough for her to start to get used to the feeling, before he shifts just a little. Enough to start making room, enough to add a little friction. Enough that she should definitely be able to respond, to do some moving of her own, if she wants.
theartofdying: (really you should know better)

[personal profile] theartofdying 2019-07-26 08:30 pm (UTC)(link)
It's even better as she shifts with him, moving against him as his own motions grow more confident. A little more, and a little more, it's not hard or rough but it's deep and she's so hot, the feeling of her and the sounds she's making against his ear and the sharp sting of her nails in his shoulder.

I'm going to hurt you, she says, and he thrusts a little deeper inside her at the words. "I don't mind," he says, breathing just a little ragged as his hands shift against her, as he brushes a kiss against her bare shoulder, tongue licking at sweat-slicked skin. "It's okay, Mikan-chan, it's fine, I don't mind, I just want you to feel good--"
theartofdying: (lick my wounds)

[personal profile] theartofdying 2019-07-31 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
It's fine if she doesn't last all that long, honestly. He can be efficient if he needs to be, and while some other time he might be interested in keeping her on that edge, in teasing and tormenting and drawing all this out, considering just how her moonblessing is affecting her, he's more willing to give her what she needs.

After all, it's not like it's working out badly for him, either, is it? She's hot and wet and tight, writhing against him, nails a burning pressure in his shoulder, her whimpers in his ear absolutely wonderful. It feels amazing, and then there's the added rush of being in public, the risk, the flood of endorphins as he feels her start to tense, her breath catching with early signs of impending climax.

His mouth opens to encourage her, to coax her over the edge with whispered words and reassurances, and his mouth is still open when her teeth sink into his shoulder, making him cry out with mingled pain and pleasure as he drives into her. He's bleeding, he can feel it, but the feeling is a rush all its own as he pushes her roughly against the bricks, seeking out his own and finally finding it with a murmured, half-panted yes, yes, yes.

It's amazing he's still on his feet, really, and he's leaning against Mikan, her back propped against the rough brick of the alley wall as he places a slow, tender kiss to her shoulder, wincing slightly at the feeling in his shoulder. That's definitely going to hurt later, but right now, all it feels is very, very satisfying.

"How are you feeling, Mikan-chan?"
theartofdying: (crick in my neck)

[personal profile] theartofdying 2019-08-06 05:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Loved. Is that what it feels like? Honestly, it's as good a word as any, means as much. It's endorphins, a chemical reaction, an automatic response from a body designed to encourage certain actions to ensure the propagation of its genetic material. Why not dress it up with a word?

Of course, not like he's thinking about any of that. It feels good, feels better than good, and even though his shoulder is aching he still laughs at her response, breath catching slightly at the sensation. "Yes, you did," he answers, and despite the wince, he looks entirely too self-satisfied to mind. "It might even leave a scar. Not like I don't already have a bunch of those, but still." The smile on his face is a touch wicked as he pulls back enough to see her face.

"Maybe you could use your skills as the Ultimate Nurse and help patch me up?"
theartofdying: (could it be)

[personal profile] theartofdying 2019-08-11 02:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Her clothes, indeed. They hadn't covered all that much to start with, and then he'd been so rough with them. Well, he's got a solution for that, at least; hands lightly squeezing her thighs, he gently untangles the two of them, setting her on her feet once more and holding on until he's sure she's steady.

"Well, since it's my fault they're in that condition, I suppose I should do something about it, shouldn't I?" He doesn't sound at all apologetic, or at all unhappy about the state of things, but then why should he, really? Once she's steady on her feet, he tucks himself away and does up his pants again, then slips his coat off his shoulders, hissing slightly as he has to shift his bleeding shoulder, and drapes it around hers with a slight flourish.

"There. It's a bit long, but it should definitely do the trick. Ready?" To go back to her place so she can patch him up, of course.