[She bounces slightly as they hit the bed, feeling a panicked anxiety worming up through her body as they topple over]
I-I'm sorry...! [She apologizes nearly at the same time that Atsushi does, though she pauses when she realizes he'd done so. For... what??
It takes her a minute but once she realizes, she looks away shyly and a nervous giggle bubbles over again.] ...I-it's fine, Atsushi-san... You can touch me too. [They're already like this, aren't they? She reaches up to cover Atsushi's hand with her own, pressing his hand a bit more firmly against her breast.] It's alright.
[Though even under the fabric there's the rough edges of old scars; they're easier to hide from view now, since the room is mostly illuminated by the light of the moons now and she can get away with hiding her markings i nshadow, but it'd be impossible to hide them from touch.
Her other hand moves to Atsushi's shirt, sliding underneath it once more to touch against his stomach and side. She's about to say more, something, but she pauses at feeling the edges of a scar on him too.] Ah...
[If it's possible for Atsushi's face to get redder, it certainly is happening right now. Her breast was soft beneath his fingers, though there was something--
Oh.
And then Mikan's hand is sliding beneath his shirt, fingers brushing his side, and Atsushi can feel when they meet the rough edges of the large burn scar there with patchy sensation, the blush on his face beginning to fade somewhat.
It's a double whammy of realization, and he looks at Mikan with both sadness and understanding.]
Atsushi-san. [She says his name softly, Letting go of his hand and reaching up to cup the side of his face to make sure she has his attention.] It’s okay. I think this part of you is beautiful too.
[Her fingers splay out over the scar, feeling the tougher skin.] I should’ve warned you too. I’m... a lot uglier... [She looks away, her brow furrowed in a look of shame. Scars on men were acceptable, after all. It made them rugged or handsome. On girls? It always just spoke of damage. The kind of damage people didn’t want to bother with.]
So, it’s okay. I know I said you could, but you don’t have to touch me. I just... want to keep touching you.
[Atsushi leans into the hand on his cheek, seeking out that touch, that grounding reassurance.
'Beautiful'... he didn't think any part of him was beautiful, but that wasn't entirely why he shied away. It was... a bad memory. A terrible one, really... He still didn't know if the pains he sometimes felt from them were all in his head or not. Even the sensation of someone else touching it felt odd enough to send him shivering, the scars too sensitive in places and not enough in others.
But this was Mikan. She understood, and he could feel the evidence of that beneath his fingers. He strokes his fingers over the lines he can feel beneath her clothes, gentle and careful, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers.]
I don't think anything like this could make you ugly, Tsumiki-san. You're beautiful too... And I want to touch you and be close to you. Will you let me?
[He want to see her, to feel her... but only if she wants to let him, because she deserved that respect.]
Huh...? [She doesn't mind the continued contact, she's just... surprised by it. She stares a moment, shocked, and makes a quiet squeaking noise at his offer. Yes she wants him to touch her, but--
She closes her eyes briefly, overwhelmed, and takes a breath. Atsushi, she thinks, is too good for this. Too good for her. Doing something like this with each other feels like she's staining him in some irreversible way and a dark feeling curls its way around her heart at the thought. He won't forget her from this, will he.]
Atsushi-san... [She murmurs his name, more just to say it than trying to get is attention or anything, and she sighs softly as she opens her eyes again. Her fingers move away from his scar and out from under his shirt to start undoing the dancer's top she wore. Since it seemed mostly comprised of ribbons anyhow, it didn't take long for it to fall loose completely. It's not the kind of outfit that really goes well with a bra either, leaving her more-or-less exposed to him now.
Though her face is red, she looks up at him]
I...want you to touch me too. I want this. [Her heart feels like it's about to pound right out of her chest] Please... Please touch me. I-- N-no one's... c-called me beautiful before. [She wants more of that]
[Atsushi's face is red, too... especially when her top falls away to reveal bare skin beneath, no underwear in sight. His breath stutters in his throat for a moment, heart thudding in his chest as his eyes go wide. She did have scars, it was true, but... it didn't detract from how pretty she was, to Atsushi.
If anything, he only wanted to touch more. Maybe more than touch, if she wanted him to.]
You are. I... I mean, you're very... very beautiful, Tsumiki-san...
[He swallows roughly, throat feeling oddly dry as he reaches out, careful.]
A-ah... [She doesn't know what to do in the face of such praise. Even Junko's compliments would be seeped in snide insults and put-downs, so it's hard to listen to it without waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. Something like 'you're very beautiful, Tsumiki-san... if you didn't have such an ugly face/ugly hair/weren't so gross" etc.
But it doesn't come and Mikan inhales sharply, nodding at his question.] Yes. [It comes out in arush of a breath and she turns red from just how eager she sounds, but she reaches up to tug at his shirt, wanting to pull it off of him as well.] I-I, um... Can you... take this off? I want to see you too...
[Atsushi can't quite tear his eyes away from her easily right now, but at her request his eyes go wide and he nods, slowly.
It was only fair, at this point... no, he wanted to share this with her, like she'd shown him... Trusted him. He reaches up, helping her remove the plain button up he's been wearing, shrugging it off of his shoulders after it's open with a shy look. He knows he's not much to look at-- too skinny and scarred. But it felt right, doing this.]
[Mikan sighs contently as the shirt is pulled away, as if finally, at long last, she's found what she's been looking for. And maybe in a way she has. Atsushi is nice. He's safe.
Even in a situation like this, she can't help but feel comfortable and warm, in a way she can't entirely prescribe to the effects of the moons or the moonlacing. Her hands smoot over his skin, light over the scar but not ignoring it. It's a part of who he is, after all, and she's not about to just pretend it's some ugly thing that isn't there-- she thinks it's beautiful, but she can't really begin to tell him that.
He's beautiful. From his multicolored eyes to the scar-- she reaches up to cup the side of his face, smiling lightly.]
I love everything about you... [She murmurs it gently, almost more to herself than to him, like she's not even aware she's said it out loud.]
Atsushi-san... Can I keep you? Even if just for a few hours...
[Atsushi inhales sharply at the brush of fingers against his skin, but he leans into it slightly, easing himself down onto the bed so he's hovering over her with one hand pressed into the mattress, his cheek leaning into her hand. He liked this... her touch, her smile as she looked up at him that made him feel warm, comfortable and giddy. He wanted to touch her, too, so he reaches forward with his one free hand to run fingers along her collar, allowing them to skate lower and gently caress her breasts.
She'd given permission, after all.]
Yes... I want to stay like this, here with you.
[And he wants to kiss her, too... so that's what he does, leaning in slowly so she knows where he's going with the renewed closeness, before pressing his lips against hers anew.]
[They're dangerous words, for both of them. She could take it and hold onto it like a lifeline, to drag him in and under and never let him come up for air. It's tempting, sorely tempting, but she's not that person anymore. She can't be.
His touch makes her breath catch, everything enhanced beyond the norm and it's just a simple touch, it really shouldn't feel that good, but she's also not about to complain about it. She shivers and makes a soft moaning noise as Atsushi finally kisses her.
Her brain reels, but she's quick to respond, returning the kiss eagerly and relishing in the sweetness of it. Her hands slide back up his body, over his chest and his shoulders to slide her arms around his neck. The heat between them is nearly stifling, but she barely has anything left to take off to try and relieve it.]
[Atsushi isn't even aware of that, unfortunately. What he is aware of is wanting and being wanted in return was a heady, wonderful feeling, one he craved in a way that had nothing to do with the moon.
One they probably both understood intimately, as well.
Atsushi kisses her eagerly in return, heart pounding in his chest but nervousness fading from his mind as he gasps against her lips and seeks further closeness, pressing closer with his body while his hand follows along the curve of her breast, brushes a nipple, simply explores and caresses.
He doesn't have much in the way of experience, but he has a lot of eagerness to make up for it.]
The hand on her face shouldn't feel this nice either, like a pet, little shocks of electricity sending tingles through her head. She closes her eyes and leans into it, rubbing against his hand as the rabbit ears on her head go lax.
The rest of the town might be in some mild state of chaos and moon-influenced violence and sex driven, but for Mikan none of that matters. There's only Dazai and the promise of attention and that forgiveness for existing she's always craved. Someone to forgive her, to tell her it's okay, and give her their undivided attention. Right here, right now (and once upon a time, if they'd met only months earlier), she'd follow him to the ends of the earth for just that scrap of affection. Or hell, even the hint that she might receive it.
The question makes her gives an noncommittal hum, as if not really hearing, before she realizes what's being asked. "Hm...? Ah..." She opens her eyes and blinks slowly, dazed, before she freezes in alarm at having to make a decision.
"I, um... What if... p-people see...?" There were still plenty of people around, but there's a spike of arousal at the idea of the risk involved.
Ah, he shouldn't. But then, when has he ever done what he should, or paid attention to such things? Besides, she's coherent enough to consent, now that she's got the bracelet, and he'll stop if she says no. But she's not saying no, and his fingers slide further against her cheek, caressing her gently as his other arm wraps loosely around her waist, drawing her in close to him. He can feel the beating of her heart against his chest, and again he waits until she's looking at him properly before he answers.
"We don't have to, if you don't want to. I'll follow you back to your place. But if you can't wait, we can do it here. Everyone's busy with what's going on out there. But even if they see, you're beautiful. There's nothing to be ashamed of, Mikan-chan." His voice is a soft caress, enticing, seductive but not commanding. This is her choice, after all.
She stumbles slightly as she's pulled closer, her legs feeling weak, causing her to lean a little heavier against him. There's a lot of margin for error here--her outfit doesn't cover her a lot to begin with, but it's just enough, the gauzy material just opaque enough in the moonlight to coverher scars. In her home he'd probably be able to feel or see them easier; here she can at least pretend he maybe won't notice.
There's a lot of other little factors, but Mikan's not thinking about too much of it when the choice boils down to 'wait, or don't' and she...
"I-I don't want to wait." She whimpers out, her face turning bright red. Beautiful? Her? She looks away and shakes her head, leaning in to hide her face against his chest. "Pl-please... Make me yours'." Her fingers curl desperately into his shirt, her body trembling with need. "It's unbearable."
Well, if this is what she wants...he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it, too. The moon overhead seems to have made his sense of smell stronger even with the dulling effect of the bracelet, and the idea of doing this, here in the alley where anyone could walk down and see, could see them--
She buries her face against his chest, and that just won't do. Not for this. His fingers wind through her hair, combing, soothing, reaching up to stroke the base of those quivering ears atop her head, and after a moment he shifts his arm and shoulder, nudging her to get her to look up at him. To meet his eyes, just for a moment. "I won't say that anymore if it makes you uncomfortable, Mikan-chan," he murmurs, and his voice is more intent, the change small but noticeable. "But I want you to look at me. Just at me. Can you do that?"
Her ears twitch in response to the touch, a shiver of pleasure going down her spine and she sighs contently. It feels nice to be pet like that, to have fingers through her hair that aren't yanking just to cause pain for pain's sake. There's a slight resistance as he nudges her back, but she gives in and looks at him with embarrassed, slightly watery eyes.
"Ah, it's... It's not that I don't like it, it's just... P-people don't say those things to me. I-I don't know what to do..." But the change in his tone catches her attention, holds it and she holds her breath a moment too as she stares at him.
Sometimes it's hard to keep eye contact with someone, there's something embarrassing about it, but she finds herself unable to look away from him. He is, she thinks, someone who's used to his commands and orders being met in one form or another and she can't even begin to imagine what might happen if she were to disobey. Not that she'd want to disobey anyhow, her tongue wetting her lips slowly before she nods.
"Y-yes. Okay. Only you." SHe can do that. She's good at focusing her care and attention on one person, good at taking and following direction-- likes being given the direction, rather than scattering her energies all over the place. Something eases inside of her and she breathes again, her fingers curling slightly into his clothes as she watches him with large, dark eyes.
Contrary to what he's said many times to others, pain in certain contexts isn't a bad thing. Pain sometimes makes you feel alive, makes your heart beat faster and the world feel more vibrant and vital. But that's not every circumstance, and this is definitely not the time for pain. Now is the time to be gentle. To seduce, to coerce, to help her sink comfortably into an abyss of pleasure. He's always been very, very good at that.
Mikan looks up at him with those pretty, pale brown eyes, and Dazai doesn't look away, fingers combing through her hair, his touch soothing and gentle. "That's very good," he murmurs, and his other hand slides around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Now, I'm going to say you're beautiful, and you're going to say 'I'm glad you think so.' Can you do that for me?" His voice is silky, coercing, drowning out all the sounds coming from beyond the alley. Here, it's just the two of them.
It feels a little like the world is crumbling away beneath her feet, until really all the remains of the world is the patch of ground they stand on and Dazai. Dazai and his voice that caresses her as surely as his hands are, gentle, coaxing. Guiding. She’ll step right off that ledge if it means he’ll meep going, if she can have his gaze focused that intently on her.
She’s stepped off the ledge for less.
Mikan leans into him, her eyes watery and her fingers curling desperately into his clothes like she might fall away should she let go. She wants to stay here and worship at his feet. She wants to dig her nails and teeth in until the imprints left behind are too deep to ever heal, deep enough to carve into his very bones and never shake her off, never forget. The desire is strong enough to stop her breath for just a second.
Instinctively she glances away before hastily bringing her gaze back on him, once there hadn’t been any permission to look away, her body trembling against him with pent-up desires both similar and distinct (violence and sexual so often went hand-in-hand, after all).
“O-okay.” Her voice sounds small and uncertain, but she swallows hard and nods again. “B-because it’s you... I’ll do whatever you say. O-only for you...” Because she can’t possibly dream of displeasing him, even if the praise and compliments make her feel strange.
Good. That look is good, the way she leans into him, the way she clings. There's a want there that he craves in turn, a need to obey, to be good that he can sense in his bones the same way he can sense the craving for violence. She's much more than she seems, isn't she? Not like Yosano at all, it's a very different kind of medicine she's practicing. Dazai thinks she might want to wound just as much as she wants to heal.
There might be another time for something like that. But now, there's just this, and he gives her a sweet, brilliant smile as she answers him. Whatever he says, only for him, and even if this is some of Iris's influence, that's not all it is, is it? "Good girl," he murmurs, and his fingertips part the gauze of that costume, brushing lightly against the bare skin of her lower back. "I think you're beautiful, Mikan-chan," he whispers, his face looking down into hers expectantly, as he waits for his answer. It's not a lie, either. She is beautiful, especially like this--trembling and terrified and aroused all at once. It's the best kind of sight, really.
She feels her knees going weak at that smile. 'I'd kill for that smile,' isn't a foreign thought to her, and while she's sure people exaggerate about their lovers like that it's an unfortunate reality for her. She would kill for the smile. She's killed for that sort of smile before, though a different face was wearing it.
But her mind isn't on killing right now, not exactly, and it certainly can't be on Junko, not in a moment like this. Besides, it's hard to think of much else when his hands are on her and bare skin against bare skin that has her shivering. The compliment has her gaze automatically shifting away in shy embarrassment before she remembers herself and quickly looks back.
"I'm-- I'm glad you think so."
It takes every fiber of her trembling being to not blunder on with excuses and trying to reject the compliment or something. She presses against him, her fingers slowly uncurling from where they'd been clutching desperately at his shirt to instead lay flat against his chest, partly so se can touch more of him and partly because her knuckles were beginning to ache.
"Like that?" Her voice is small, almost a whisper, like an actor wanting to make sure she'd gotten the line right.
There we go. There are her fingers uncurling, her eyes flicking away and then back, like she's remembering his words, taking his soft requests for the commands they're meant to be. He knew he hadn't been wrong. She felt it too, didn't she? The pull towards this. The proper balance of their roles.
"Just like that, Mikan-chan," he says, and his smile is benevolent. "That's perfect. Now you can say that whenever someone compliments you. And they should, because you're very pretty, especially like this." Trembling under his touch, on the verge of tears still, yearning towards him. Part of him aches for just a little more, wonders how she'd look tied up and quivering, body taut and flinching from his touch...but that's not for now. Not that kind of encounter. Instead, he strokes her back, soft, gentle touches, soothing her.
"Can I kiss you?" The question is just as soothing, just as calm, and he looks at her expectantly for an answer. Somehow, it seems like just a 'yes' might not be exactly what he's looking for.
She lets out a breath she hadn't been fully aware she'd been holding, pleased beyond reason at having done a good job. Her smile is shakey, but true, and at the compliment she hesitates.
"I'm...Glad you think so...?" He'd called her pretty, so that's how she was supposed to respond, right? She's not sure if it was deliberate test or not, but she peeks up at hm shyly, uncertain.
But god, she wants to kiss him. Every fiber of her being practically aches for more of his touch, but she can tell he doesn't seem to want just 'yes.' She doesn't know what, exactly, he's looking for though and anxiety worms its way around her heart. "I...I want to kiss you. B-but... But you don't have...to ask permission..."
Yes, very good. She remembers, she infers, she looks for the right answer and looks for approval, and there's a part of him that warms to that, that wants to continue to pursue that avenue of inquiry. What can she learn? How will she apply it? If he told her to call him something other than his name...
...Maybe another time. When there's not so clearly an outside influence.
She tells him he doesn't need to ask permission, and that tempts him again down other avenues, but for now it's more important to him to establish certain guidelines. "Maybe in the future I won't," he allows, expression a little thoughtful. "Maybe there are other things I won't ask permission for, either. But I think right now, it's important to ask before I do things. After all, we're still kind of strangers, aren't we, Mikan-chan? We're friends, but I don't know what you like and what you don't. Some people don't like kissing. And I want you to like what I'm going to do to you." The words become a promise, a caress all their own, and his hand tilts her chin up just a little more as he leans in. "But since you said this was okay..."
The kiss starts soft and slow, gentle, but deepens as she reacts, Dazai's intention to keep her focused on him and only him as his clever fingers explore her bare back, her sides, her ribs, eventually sliding up to brush his thumbs over the lowest swell of her breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here, too?" The words are whispered in between kisses, against her soft lips.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Event April 2019
Atsushi
I-I'm sorry...! [She apologizes nearly at the same time that Atsushi does, though she pauses when she realizes he'd done so. For... what??
It takes her a minute but once she realizes, she looks away shyly and a nervous giggle bubbles over again.] ...I-it's fine, Atsushi-san... You can touch me too. [They're already like this, aren't they? She reaches up to cover Atsushi's hand with her own, pressing his hand a bit more firmly against her breast.] It's alright.
[Though even under the fabric there's the rough edges of old scars; they're easier to hide from view now, since the room is mostly illuminated by the light of the moons now and she can get away with hiding her markings i nshadow, but it'd be impossible to hide them from touch.
Her other hand moves to Atsushi's shirt, sliding underneath it once more to touch against his stomach and side. She's about to say more, something, but she pauses at feeling the edges of a scar on him too.] Ah...
Re: Atsushi
Oh.
And then Mikan's hand is sliding beneath his shirt, fingers brushing his side, and Atsushi can feel when they meet the rough edges of the large burn scar there with patchy sensation, the blush on his face beginning to fade somewhat.
It's a double whammy of realization, and he looks at Mikan with both sadness and understanding.]
I-I'm sorry, I should have warned you... Or--
no subject
[Her fingers splay out over the scar, feeling the tougher skin.] I should’ve warned you too. I’m... a lot uglier... [She looks away, her brow furrowed in a look of shame. Scars on men were acceptable, after all. It made them rugged or handsome. On girls? It always just spoke of damage. The kind of damage people didn’t want to bother with.]
So, it’s okay. I know I said you could, but you don’t have to touch me. I just... want to keep touching you.
no subject
'Beautiful'... he didn't think any part of him was beautiful, but that wasn't entirely why he shied away. It was... a bad memory. A terrible one, really... He still didn't know if the pains he sometimes felt from them were all in his head or not. Even the sensation of someone else touching it felt odd enough to send him shivering, the scars too sensitive in places and not enough in others.
But this was Mikan. She understood, and he could feel the evidence of that beneath his fingers. He strokes his fingers over the lines he can feel beneath her clothes, gentle and careful, leaning forward to press his forehead against hers.]
I don't think anything like this could make you ugly, Tsumiki-san. You're beautiful too... And I want to touch you and be close to you. Will you let me?
[He want to see her, to feel her... but only if she wants to let him, because she deserved that respect.]
no subject
She closes her eyes briefly, overwhelmed, and takes a breath. Atsushi, she thinks, is too good for this. Too good for her. Doing something like this with each other feels like she's staining him in some irreversible way and a dark feeling curls its way around her heart at the thought. He won't forget her from this, will he.]
Atsushi-san... [She murmurs his name, more just to say it than trying to get is attention or anything, and she sighs softly as she opens her eyes again. Her fingers move away from his scar and out from under his shirt to start undoing the dancer's top she wore. Since it seemed mostly comprised of ribbons anyhow, it didn't take long for it to fall loose completely. It's not the kind of outfit that really goes well with a bra either, leaving her more-or-less exposed to him now.
Though her face is red, she looks up at him]
I...want you to touch me too. I want this. [Her heart feels like it's about to pound right out of her chest] Please... Please touch me. I-- N-no one's... c-called me beautiful before. [She wants more of that]
no subject
If anything, he only wanted to touch more. Maybe more than touch, if she wanted him to.]
You are. I... I mean, you're very... very beautiful, Tsumiki-san...
[He swallows roughly, throat feeling oddly dry as he reaches out, careful.]
Can I....?
no subject
But it doesn't come and Mikan inhales sharply, nodding at his question.] Yes. [It comes out in arush of a breath and she turns red from just how eager she sounds, but she reaches up to tug at his shirt, wanting to pull it off of him as well.] I-I, um... Can you... take this off? I want to see you too...
no subject
It was only fair, at this point... no, he wanted to share this with her, like she'd shown him... Trusted him. He reaches up, helping her remove the plain button up he's been wearing, shrugging it off of his shoulders after it's open with a shy look. He knows he's not much to look at-- too skinny and scarred. But it felt right, doing this.]
no subject
Even in a situation like this, she can't help but feel comfortable and warm, in a way she can't entirely prescribe to the effects of the moons or the moonlacing. Her hands smoot over his skin, light over the scar but not ignoring it. It's a part of who he is, after all, and she's not about to just pretend it's some ugly thing that isn't there-- she thinks it's beautiful, but she can't really begin to tell him that.
He's beautiful. From his multicolored eyes to the scar-- she reaches up to cup the side of his face, smiling lightly.]
I love everything about you... [She murmurs it gently, almost more to herself than to him, like she's not even aware she's said it out loud.]
Atsushi-san... Can I keep you? Even if just for a few hours...
no subject
She'd given permission, after all.]
Yes... I want to stay like this, here with you.
[And he wants to kiss her, too... so that's what he does, leaning in slowly so she knows where he's going with the renewed closeness, before pressing his lips against hers anew.]
no subject
His touch makes her breath catch, everything enhanced beyond the norm and it's just a simple touch, it really shouldn't feel that good, but she's also not about to complain about it. She shivers and makes a soft moaning noise as Atsushi finally kisses her.
Her brain reels, but she's quick to respond, returning the kiss eagerly and relishing in the sweetness of it. Her hands slide back up his body, over his chest and his shoulders to slide her arms around his neck. The heat between them is nearly stifling, but she barely has anything left to take off to try and relieve it.]
no subject
One they probably both understood intimately, as well.
Atsushi kisses her eagerly in return, heart pounding in his chest but nervousness fading from his mind as he gasps against her lips and seeks further closeness, pressing closer with his body while his hand follows along the curve of her breast, brushes a nipple, simply explores and caresses.
He doesn't have much in the way of experience, but he has a lot of eagerness to make up for it.]
(no subject)
Dazai
The rest of the town might be in some mild state of chaos and moon-influenced violence and sex driven, but for Mikan none of that matters. There's only Dazai and the promise of attention and that forgiveness for existing she's always craved. Someone to forgive her, to tell her it's okay, and give her their undivided attention. Right here, right now (and once upon a time, if they'd met only months earlier), she'd follow him to the ends of the earth for just that scrap of affection. Or hell, even the hint that she might receive it.
The question makes her gives an noncommittal hum, as if not really hearing, before she realizes what's being asked. "Hm...? Ah..." She opens her eyes and blinks slowly, dazed, before she freezes in alarm at having to make a decision.
"I, um... What if... p-people see...?" There were still plenty of people around, but there's a spike of arousal at the idea of the risk involved.
no subject
"We don't have to, if you don't want to. I'll follow you back to your place. But if you can't wait, we can do it here. Everyone's busy with what's going on out there. But even if they see, you're beautiful. There's nothing to be ashamed of, Mikan-chan." His voice is a soft caress, enticing, seductive but not commanding. This is her choice, after all.
no subject
There's a lot of other little factors, but Mikan's not thinking about too much of it when the choice boils down to 'wait, or don't' and she...
"I-I don't want to wait." She whimpers out, her face turning bright red. Beautiful? Her? She looks away and shakes her head, leaning in to hide her face against his chest. "Pl-please... Make me yours'." Her fingers curl desperately into his shirt, her body trembling with need. "It's unbearable."
no subject
She buries her face against his chest, and that just won't do. Not for this. His fingers wind through her hair, combing, soothing, reaching up to stroke the base of those quivering ears atop her head, and after a moment he shifts his arm and shoulder, nudging her to get her to look up at him. To meet his eyes, just for a moment. "I won't say that anymore if it makes you uncomfortable, Mikan-chan," he murmurs, and his voice is more intent, the change small but noticeable. "But I want you to look at me. Just at me. Can you do that?"
no subject
"Ah, it's... It's not that I don't like it, it's just... P-people don't say those things to me. I-I don't know what to do..." But the change in his tone catches her attention, holds it and she holds her breath a moment too as she stares at him.
Sometimes it's hard to keep eye contact with someone, there's something embarrassing about it, but she finds herself unable to look away from him. He is, she thinks, someone who's used to his commands and orders being met in one form or another and she can't even begin to imagine what might happen if she were to disobey. Not that she'd want to disobey anyhow, her tongue wetting her lips slowly before she nods.
"Y-yes. Okay. Only you." SHe can do that. She's good at focusing her care and attention on one person, good at taking and following direction-- likes being given the direction, rather than scattering her energies all over the place. Something eases inside of her and she breathes again, her fingers curling slightly into his clothes as she watches him with large, dark eyes.
no subject
Mikan looks up at him with those pretty, pale brown eyes, and Dazai doesn't look away, fingers combing through her hair, his touch soothing and gentle. "That's very good," he murmurs, and his other hand slides around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Now, I'm going to say you're beautiful, and you're going to say 'I'm glad you think so.' Can you do that for me?" His voice is silky, coercing, drowning out all the sounds coming from beyond the alley. Here, it's just the two of them.
no subject
She’s stepped off the ledge for less.
Mikan leans into him, her eyes watery and her fingers curling desperately into his clothes like she might fall away should she let go. She wants to stay here and worship at his feet. She wants to dig her nails and teeth in until the imprints left behind are too deep to ever heal, deep enough to carve into his very bones and never shake her off, never forget. The desire is strong enough to stop her breath for just a second.
Instinctively she glances away before hastily bringing her gaze back on him, once there hadn’t been any permission to look away, her body trembling against him with pent-up desires both similar and distinct (violence and sexual so often went hand-in-hand, after all).
“O-okay.” Her voice sounds small and uncertain, but she swallows hard and nods again. “B-because it’s you... I’ll do whatever you say. O-only for you...” Because she can’t possibly dream of displeasing him, even if the praise and compliments make her feel strange.
no subject
There might be another time for something like that. But now, there's just this, and he gives her a sweet, brilliant smile as she answers him. Whatever he says, only for him, and even if this is some of Iris's influence, that's not all it is, is it? "Good girl," he murmurs, and his fingertips part the gauze of that costume, brushing lightly against the bare skin of her lower back. "I think you're beautiful, Mikan-chan," he whispers, his face looking down into hers expectantly, as he waits for his answer. It's not a lie, either. She is beautiful, especially like this--trembling and terrified and aroused all at once. It's the best kind of sight, really.
no subject
But her mind isn't on killing right now, not exactly, and it certainly can't be on Junko, not in a moment like this. Besides, it's hard to think of much else when his hands are on her and bare skin against bare skin that has her shivering. The compliment has her gaze automatically shifting away in shy embarrassment before she remembers herself and quickly looks back.
"I'm-- I'm glad you think so."
It takes every fiber of her trembling being to not blunder on with excuses and trying to reject the compliment or something. She presses against him, her fingers slowly uncurling from where they'd been clutching desperately at his shirt to instead lay flat against his chest, partly so se can touch more of him and partly because her knuckles were beginning to ache.
"Like that?" Her voice is small, almost a whisper, like an actor wanting to make sure she'd gotten the line right.
no subject
"Just like that, Mikan-chan," he says, and his smile is benevolent. "That's perfect. Now you can say that whenever someone compliments you. And they should, because you're very pretty, especially like this." Trembling under his touch, on the verge of tears still, yearning towards him. Part of him aches for just a little more, wonders how she'd look tied up and quivering, body taut and flinching from his touch...but that's not for now. Not that kind of encounter. Instead, he strokes her back, soft, gentle touches, soothing her.
"Can I kiss you?" The question is just as soothing, just as calm, and he looks at her expectantly for an answer. Somehow, it seems like just a 'yes' might not be exactly what he's looking for.
no subject
"I'm...Glad you think so...?" He'd called her pretty, so that's how she was supposed to respond, right? She's not sure if it was deliberate test or not, but she peeks up at hm shyly, uncertain.
But god, she wants to kiss him. Every fiber of her being practically aches for more of his touch, but she can tell he doesn't seem to want just 'yes.' She doesn't know what, exactly, he's looking for though and anxiety worms its way around her heart. "I...I want to kiss you. B-but... But you don't have...to ask permission..."
no subject
...Maybe another time. When there's not so clearly an outside influence.
She tells him he doesn't need to ask permission, and that tempts him again down other avenues, but for now it's more important to him to establish certain guidelines. "Maybe in the future I won't," he allows, expression a little thoughtful. "Maybe there are other things I won't ask permission for, either. But I think right now, it's important to ask before I do things. After all, we're still kind of strangers, aren't we, Mikan-chan? We're friends, but I don't know what you like and what you don't. Some people don't like kissing. And I want you to like what I'm going to do to you." The words become a promise, a caress all their own, and his hand tilts her chin up just a little more as he leans in. "But since you said this was okay..."
The kiss starts soft and slow, gentle, but deepens as she reacts, Dazai's intention to keep her focused on him and only him as his clever fingers explore her bare back, her sides, her ribs, eventually sliding up to brush his thumbs over the lowest swell of her breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here, too?" The words are whispered in between kisses, against her soft lips.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)