Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dazai’s mind went completely blank—blissfully, wonderfully blank—for a long, suspended moment. Chuuya’s lips were moving against hers, warm and needy, melting her in that way only Chuuya could. She was sitting on her lap like a damn goddess—or a very obedient dog, not that Dazai would ever say that out loud unless she wanted a punch to the jaw from that fiery little chibi.

Still, it was so good.

Chuuya’s kisses always had that effect on her: they silenced the static in her head. That ever-present hum of thoughts, of worries, of everything, just gone with the feel of Chuuya’s mouth. Those lips—soft, a little chapped, always tasting like cherry gum or coffee or something uniquely her —were enough to anchor Dazai after the hell that was a day in college. She didn’t need anything else. She didn’t want anything else. Just this. Just her . Her short-tempered, gorgeous, always-ridiculously-hot girlfriend, curled on top of her, stealing her breath, and then maybe a nap. Or sleep. Or both.

What else did someone need to call it happiness?

Well—“happy” was a big word. Too big. She still had her lows, still found herself spiraling into that all-too-familiar place, still visited the blade when the noise was too much. But…

She was okay .

That was enough. It had to be.

But—because there was always a "but" in Dazai’s life—when she felt Chuuya’s hand slide up beneath her shirt, warm fingers brushing directly against her chest, Dazai froze. Just… paused. Her body tensed, her breath caught.

Skin to skin.

Of course it was skin to skin—she hadn’t bothered with a bra. She rarely did. Her chest wasn’t exactly much, and comfort was more important than padding or lace. But still. Chuuya’s palm was right there, cupping her breast without hesitation. And Dazai could feel her entire body lighting up in soft little sparks.

And here was the thing: she liked it . She really did.

But.

She also knew that, while long makeout sessions and heated touches were enough for her—for now—they weren’t always enough for Chuuya. Chuuya had a stronger libido, had always been more open about that stuff. She talked about it. She could joke about it. Dazai, on the other hand? Not so much.

Not that she didn’t get aroused. God, of course she did. She touched herself plenty, more than she’d ever admit out loud. But talking about it? Initiating anything? That was a whole different universe.

Still, it wasn’t like she hadn’t imagined what sex with Chuuya would be like. Of course she had. More than once. Chuuya was stupidly attractive, and Dazai had spent too many nights thinking about burying her face in Chuuya’s chest or being pinned under those strong thighs. Honestly, she sometimes thought Chuuya could snap her in half and she’d thank her for it.

She was dating the most perfect girl alive.

But there was a wide, deep canyon between thinking about sex and actually doing it .

Not that she didn’t want to. She just… didn’t know what the hell she was doing.

Should she let Chuuya lead? That felt right. Probably the best option. Or should she pretend she knew what she was doing? No. Bad idea. That would end in disaster. What if she touched something wrong or made it awkward?

Better to just follow Chuuya’s lead. Just let herself feel. Let go.

Easier said than done.

Because when Chuuya’s thumb brushed across her nipple, Dazai felt her body jolt like she'd been shocked—just a flicker, just a little lightning bolt of pleasure zipping through her nerves. Her legs clenched instinctively around nothing, her breath catching as her body responded with a mind of its own. Her heart pounded harder. Her chest rose and fell faster.

It felt good. Too good.

Especially when Chuuya’s mouth moved lower, down to her neck. But then her fingers stilled.

She was unwrapping the bandages.

Dazai tensed again. Breathe , she told herself. Just breathe .

“You haven’t done this before, right?” Chuuya whispered, breath warm against her throat as she carefully peeled the bandages away, kissing the skin beneath each layer.

Dazai tried to mask the lump in her throat with a grin. “Funny, right? This dumb slug’s gonna be the first to touch me.” Her tone was teasing, casual, her usual shield.

Chuuya made a soft sound against her skin—half a huff, half a hum. “Hmph. All mine to devour, then.”

Dazai’s legs pressed together tighter at those words. Jesus. That was not fair. “There’s not much to devour anyway,” she mumbled, embarrassed, tilting her head back against the pillow.

Chuuya let the bandages fall carelessly to the sheets, then leaned in and bit her. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make her gasp. A sharp, needy sound. “I think there’s plenty . You’re a lanky bastard. That’s meters and meters of skin I get to explore.”

Dazai groaned softly, shoving her head against the headboard. “Why do you sound so gross when you say it like that?”

“It’s normal dirty talk, shut up,” Chuuya muttered, lips still hot on her neck. Her hands returned beneath Dazai’s shirt, both of them now fully cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples with slow, steady pressure.

Dazai whimpered—embarrassed at the sound, but unable to stop it.

“Tell me,” Chuuya whispered, voice low, coaxing. “Tell me what you usually do when you touch yourself.”

“W-What?”

“What do you do?” Chuuya’s lips found hers again, this time kissing her slowly, deliberately. Just enough to tease. “I want to know what you like.”

Dazai swallowed hard. Her cheeks burned. Her whole body felt like a wire ready to snap. “I…” Her voice cracked. “I touch my chest.”

Chuuya hummed softly against her jaw, almost like praise. Then her fingers moved again, gently circling and teasing her nipples. “Like this?”

Dazai gasped, nodding. Yes. Like that.

She wanted to blame her brain. Honestly. Her brain had always been a menace, a chaotic pit of noise and overthinking—but now it was worse because it wasn't overthinking. It was short-circuiting completely, reduced to nothing but heat and static.

Because there was already a knot low in her belly, hot and tight, coiled and pulsing with a rhythm she couldn’t ignore. Her breath hitched as Chuuya continued teasing her, slow, almost lazy, just rolling her nipples between nimble fingers like it was nothing—like she knew what she was doing to her.

God.

Dazai hadn’t even expected to get so turned on so easily. This wasn’t full-on foreplay, this was just... Chuuya touching her chest. Softly. Casually. Lovingly.

But Dazai’s body didn’t get the memo. It reacted with its own urgency—heart thudding, legs tensing, skin prickling like she’d been shocked.

She wanted to squirm. She wanted to moan. She wanted to hide .

But she didn’t.

She knew— knew —that Chuuya would stop the second she said the word. One breath, one word, and Chuuya would pull back, apologize, kiss her forehead and never push again.

And still… stopping wasn’t even on her radar.

She wasn’t thinking about stopping.

Because if she stopped now, it wouldn’t just be her nerves—it would be cowardice. And Dazai Osamu was many things, but she didn’t run from something just because it was new. Just because it made her stomach twist or her lungs feel too tight.

Besides. Chuuya already knew she was a virgin. Did she really need to see her as a coward too?

“Do you touch your chest for a long time, or...?” Chuuya asked softly, her voice calm, as she slowly lifted Dazai’s shirt inch by inch.

Dazai hesitated. Her arms were trembling just slightly from tension—but she still lifted them, letting Chuuya take the shirt off without resistance. She swallowed around the lump in her throat, her cheeks hot.

It wasn’t the first time Chuuya had seen her naked. There had been showers together, lazy weekend mornings, quick changes. But this context? This intimacy ?

Completely different.

“I really…” she started, and bit her lip before continuing. “I like touching my chest. A lot.”

Chuuya smiled, soft and affectionate as she tossed the shirt aside without a care. “Good to know,” she murmured, leaning in to press kisses along her collarbone. “I actually like doing the same.” Her fingers never stopped, still circling and gently pinching Dazai’s nipples in that torturously slow way. Then, her voice was a little more hushed, a little lower: “Do you usually use two or three fingers?”

Dazai blinked. “For what?” she asked, trying to sound indifferent—but her voice betrayed her, cracking slightly. Her heart was going so fast it felt like it might punch a hole through her chest.

Chuuya's hands moved again, now cupping her more firmly, almost like she was learning the exact weight, the exact shape. “To finger yourself,” she said, casually—too casually—as she exhaled through her nose.

The question made Dazai’s thoughts stutter and trip. She couldn’t answer right away—thankfully, Chuuya shifted just then, giving her the excuse of movement. She slid a knee between Dazai’s thighs and pressed forward, firm and intentional, just enough for Dazai to feel it.

Dazai gasped, hips twitching without meaning to.

“So?” Chuuya lifted her head, one eyebrow raised. Waiting.

Dazai breathed in through her nose, trying to sound nonchalant. “I…” Her voice trembled. “I don’t really finger myself,” she admitted carefully. “Usually,” she added quickly, as if it would soften the blow.

Chuuya blinked, then tilted her head. “ Usually ?”

Dazai nodded, cheeks burning.

“…So?” Chuuya pushed gently.

Dazai let out a soft sigh, as if dragging the truth out of herself physically. “Okay, I haven’t fingered myself. Ever ,” she confessed in a rush, her eyes darting away.

There. She said it.

Chuuya didn’t tease her. She didn’t smirk or laugh or make a comment. Instead, she cupped Dazai’s cheek and leaned in to kiss her—slow, tender, grounding. “It’s okay,” she whispered into the space between them. “Completely okay. Look at me, mackerel.”

Dazai hesitated, then turned her head back slowly, pouting in that familiar, exaggerated way. “Okay,” she muttered. “But I know you’re laughing in your head, slug.”

Chuuya rolled her eyes dramatically. “Why the hell would I laugh at that?” Her voice wasn’t teasing now—it was firm, sure. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. And if you’ve already found ways to enjoy yourself without it…” she shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Then that’s your choice. That’s not something to laugh at, you idiot.”

Dazai blinked at her, then snorted softly, the sound half-giddy, half-embarrassed. Her skin felt like it was on fire—but in the good way. The alive way.

“So if you want…” Chuuya murmured, voice low and steady, eyes flicking up with a quiet kind of intent, “you can grind against my knee.”

Dazai barely had time to register the words—barely two seconds to process the idea, to feel the thrum of heat pulse even lower—before Chuuya was already moving down, her lips trailing across her chest, and then—

Her mouth closed around one of Dazai’s nipples.

Oh.

Oh.

That was—God, that was good.

No, really good.

It was like a jolt of warmth exploded from her chest and rippled down her spine, spreading outward in waves. Her back arched a little without meaning to, breath catching sharply in her throat. Chuuya sucked softly at first, her lips warm and plush, her tongue flicking against the sensitive skin in lazy, practiced motions that made Dazai’s body light up like a storm of tiny sparks.

She tried to stay quiet. She really did.

But every soft suck, every swipe of Chuuya’s tongue sent a new jolt through her. Her hips twitched slightly, her thighs instinctively pressing together—because damn , her body didn’t know how to handle this. The pressure of Chuuya’s lips, the heat of her breath, the wet glide of her tongue—it was too much and not enough all at once.

And of course, Chuuya’s other hand didn’t just forget about the rest of her. Her fingers kept rolling the neglected nipple between them with just the right amount of pressure, teasing and precise, like she’d been doing this her whole life and had memorized exactly how to make Dazai tremble.

Soft gasps escaped her lips before she could stop them—barely-there sounds at first, but building with each passing second. Little whimpers. Stuttered breaths. A low hum of pleasure vibrating out of her chest.

Her hands flew up to grip the sheets, her knuckles whitening as she fought to stay grounded.

Okay. Fine .

New favorite activity.

Her brain wasn’t working. Not in any functional way, at least. Every coherent thought was wiped clean and replaced by pure feeling . Chuuya’s mouth, Chuuya’s tongue, the wet heat and suction and movement—it was so much, but so perfect , and Dazai never wanted her to stop.

She could get used to this.

No—she wanted to get used to this. She wanted this to happen again . And again. As many times as humanly possible.

God. How had she lived this long without knowing how good this felt?

She gasped again when Chuuya sucked harder, then let go just to bite gently—playfully—before laving her tongue over the sensitive skin once more. Dazai made a sound she definitely hadn’t meant to make, something embarrassingly close to a whine.

Chuuya chuckled softly against her skin. “You’re so sensitive,” she mumbled, her breath sending a shiver across the wet skin of Dazai’s chest.

And Dazai, flushed and breathless and melting , could only manage a shaky, strangled noise in response.

Thankfully—mercifully—Chuuya didn’t stop.

She simply switched to the other nipple, lips latching on with that same maddening rhythm. First soft, coaxing sucks, and then harder, more deliberate ones that made Dazai’s thighs clench all over again. Her fingers tightened in the sheets, but her hips…

Well, they had a mind of their own.

She told herself not to—but it was impossible. Her body was buzzing, trembling with tension, and without thinking—without meaning to—she started to lightly grind against Chuuya’s knee. Just a little. Barely anything.

Just enough.

God, it felt good. Just the friction, the angle, the pressure— barely anything , and still it made that heat in her belly twist tighter and tighter. She didn’t even realize how turned on she was until that light pressure sent a shiver all the way up her spine.

And now?

Now she could feel it building.

The knot in her core tightening, winding, growing more impossible to ignore with every little roll of her hips. Every flick of Chuuya’s tongue. Every graze of her teeth.

And it was getting bad. Because she wanted to keep going—wanted to grind harder, faster, and just let it happen . Just come , right here and now.

But… wouldn’t that be pathetic ?

Wouldn’t it be ridiculous to finish just from this ? From grinding against a knee like some desperate teenager? From getting her nipples sucked?

Wouldn’t that seem embarrassing?

The thought made her slow down her hips, jaw clenched. She didn’t want Chuuya to think she was too sensitive . Too easy. Too quick.

She knew —rationally, at least—that Chuuya would never mock her for that. If anything, she'd probably love it. She’d probably feel proud, maybe even smug. But Dazai’s brain wasn’t rational right now. Her brain was panicking.

And panicking brains didn’t care about logic.

They cared about shame.

Still, Chuuya didn’t give her space to overthink too much. She returned to her previous nipple, this time sucking even harder—pulling a sharper gasp from Dazai’s lips. And then her other hand began its descent. Slowly, deliberately, she trailed her fingers down Dazai’s torso. Her ribs. Her stomach. Her waist.

It was such a simple thing—just a touch—but Dazai found herself arching into it instinctively. And the way Chuuya touched her—like she was precious, like she was something to be explored, studied, adored —it made Dazai feel a little different. Not just turned on. Not just wanted.

Pretty.

Just for a moment. Just a tiny, stupid, fleeting moment—she felt pretty .

“Ended up liking it too much, slug?” Dazai asked, voice breathless but laced with a teasing edge as she tangled her fingers in Chuuya’s red hair.

She tried to keep her hips still— tried , because if she didn’t grind, she wouldn’t come too fast. She just needed to hold on a little longer. Stay grounded. Not lose control.

Chuuya smiled against her skin, the curve of it soft and smug. “Can’t deny it,” she murmured, breath hot against Dazai’s chest. “I love how you moan and squirm under me.”

Dazai swallowed hard. She was sure her entire body was glowing with heat. “Ugh… such an annoying chibi. I always knew you liked to suck.”

Chuuya chuckled softly—a quiet, dangerous sound. Then she lifted her head just enough to look at Dazai with that glint in her eyes, the one that meant mischief and boldness were coming. “Now that you mention it…” she purred, drawing out the words slowly, “I’ve officially added eating you out to my to-do list.”

Dazai blinked. Her breath hitched. “Oh.”

Just that.

Chuuya grinned like a devil. Her thumb brushed over Dazai’s now-wet nipple again—teasing, featherlight—and her voice dropped to something lower. Smokier. “Hm… How long does it usually take you to come?”

That question.

That specific question.

Dazai’s brain stuttered again. “I—I don’t know,” she muttered, trying to sound casual but failing spectacularly. “I don’t count.”

“Come on.” Chuuya tilted her head. “About how long?”

Dazai hesitated, thinking. What was a normal answer? What wouldn’t sound weird or pathetic or concerning? “…Five minutes,” she said at last, unsure if it was the right answer, but hoping it sounded somewhere in the middle. Not too fast. Not too slow.

Chuuya nodded once—then slid her hand down, cupping Dazai between the legs, over her pants, with an easy, confident motion.

Dazai’s breath caught . Her mind short-circuited all over again.

“Hm-hm…” Chuuya hummed, pressing gently with her palm. “You’re wet. Good,” she said mostly to herself, sounding pleased, almost clinical—like she was ticking off boxes on a list. “For a second, I was wondering if I was doing my job right.”

“You are…” Dazai whispered, voice shaky. “Don’t worry.”

Chuuya didn’t move her hand right away.

She kept it there—cupping Dazai through her pants, thumb applying just enough pressure to make her shiver. It wasn’t much. Barely anything. But it was exactly the kind of pressure that made Dazai’s stomach twist and tighten with heat.

“Relax,” Chuuya murmured, kissing softly down her sternum again. “You’re allowed to enjoy it, you know.”

“I am enjoying it,” Dazai mumbled, a little too fast, a little too defensive.

Chuuya didn’t argue. She just hummed again, gently, and let her palm shift ever so slightly—pressing more deliberately now, the friction of fabric between them heating up. “I want you to let go a little,” Chuuya added, voice low and warm, not demanding—just offering. Inviting.

Dazai bit her lip. God, she wanted to. She really did.

But it was hard. It was her . She was never good at letting go. Never good at quieting the voice in her head that questioned every little thing.

Still, her body didn’t wait for permission.

Because when Chuuya’s thumb rubbed a slow, lazy circle against her through her pants, Dazai gasped—sharp and real. Her hips twitched, her thighs tightening. She felt the heat soaking through the fabric, her arousal obvious now, and Chuuya noticed . Of course she did.

“You’re wet,” she said quietly, almost like it was a secret. “That’s really fucking hot.”

Dazai covered her face with her arm, groaning. “Stop saying stuff like that.”

“Why?” Chuuya tilted her head, brushing a kiss just beneath her breast. “You don’t like knowing how much I want you like this?”

Dazai hesitated, then nodded under the crook of her elbow. “I do…”

“Then let yourself feel it.”

Chuuya kissed her chest again, then trailed her mouth downward a little before returning to one nipple—sucking harder this time, firmer, while her hand kept moving over Dazai’s core, pressing and rubbing, but still not dipping beneath her clothes. Not yet. Just teasing. Just guiding.

Dazai felt her hips respond without thinking, shifting, rolling ever so slightly.

And that’s when she gave in—tentatively at first, then with a little more certainty. She began to grind against Chuuya’s thigh. Carefully. Slowly.

It was a weird angle, but it worked. 

Chuuya, ever in tune, shifted just enough to make the pressure better—her thigh firm beneath Dazai, giving her something to move against. Something solid. Something hers .

And God , the friction. It was good. Too good.

Dazai’s breath hitched as she pressed her hips forward again, chasing that feeling, and again, her body catching the rhythm naturally. Each roll of her hips sent sparks straight through her—tighter, higher. Her head tipped back, lips parted, gasping softly with every pass.

Chuuya just kissed along her chest and neck, murmuring quiet praises she could barely hear over the rush of her own heartbeat. “That’s it… Just like that,” she whispered.

And Dazai—shaking, panting, grinding against her like she needed it—felt that knot in her belly start to pull taut again.

She was letting go. A little at a time. But it was happening.
And it felt right .

Dazai was still grinding—slow and careful, each movement sending delicious sparks through her nerves—but there was a shift in the air. A subtle one. Not in her body, but in Chuuya .

Because while Dazai’s breath was getting shorter, her thighs tighter, her mind melting into pleasure—Chuuya’s touch slowed down. Not stopping, not pulling away. Just easing the rhythm, softening the pace, like she was waiting for something else now. Like there was something else she wanted to say without speaking.

Dazai blinked up at her, disoriented, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted.

Chuuya met her gaze. And then, wordlessly, she sat up a little. Her fingers found the hem of her own shirt.

Dazai’s eyes widened. “Chuuya…?”

Chuuya didn’t answer with words. She just held her gaze as she pulled her shirt up and over her head, slow and sure. It fluttered to the bed beside them.

And then her hands reached back. Unclasped the simple black bra she wore.
And let it fall.

She was bare now, chest exposed in the warm, dim light of the room—no blush, no nerves in her eyes. Just quiet openness. A silent message.

You’re not the only one being seen.

Dazai stared for a moment—completely still, her mouth slightly open, her breath caught somewhere in her throat. Her heart felt like it skipped a beat. Then two.

Chuuya was beautiful. Of course she was. She’d always been beautiful. But right now? With her hair mussed and her freckles visible and her chest rising and falling gently with every breath? She was stunning. And not untouchable.

She was here . Offering herself—not just physically, but emotionally. No teasing. No smirks. No cocky remarks.

Just her .

Dazai felt her chest tighten—not from panic, but from something softer. Something she didn’t even have a name for.

Her hand reached out before she fully realized she was doing it.

She let her fingers trail up Chuuya’s side first—hesitant, still testing—and then finally cupped one breast gently, thumb brushing across the peak. Chuuya let out the quietest sigh at the touch, her eyes fluttering just slightly.

Dazai blinked up at her. “You’re so soft…”

“Yeah,” Chuuya whispered, a tiny smile on her lips. “I work out, not everything’s muscle.”

That made Dazai snort faintly. But her hand didn’t stop moving. She was still touching, still learning, brushing over Chuuya’s chest like it was something sacred. She leaned up a bit, pressing a soft kiss to the skin just beneath her collarbone. She could feel Chuuya’s heartbeat under her lips.

“You’re so warm,” Dazai murmured.

“So are you,” Chuuya said back, voice quieter now. 

She leaned forward, finally letting both her hands cup Chuuya’s breasts, gently now—like she was trying to memorize them, not grope, not rush, just feel . Her thumbs ran over her nipples, and she felt a thrill when Chuuya inhaled through her nose, the faintest tremble in her arms.

Chuuya was affected, too.

That realization gave Dazai courage— so much courage. She kissed the top of Chuuya’s chest again, then lower, then again, letting her lips brush against her skin with something close to reverence. 

“Do you want me to… finger you, or do you want to keep going like this?” Chuuya asked quietly, one hand moving to ruffle Dazai’s hair in that familiar, affectionate way that grounded them both.

Dazai let out a long, slow breath and collapsed back onto the pillows, her hair splayed around her like a dark halo. “I don’t know,” she admitted, voice low. “Every time I’ve tried to do it… it just feels like—nothing. Like, sure, there’s something inside but… that’s it. No spark. No wave. No ‘oh my god, I’m gonna die’ moment. Just... there.”

Chuuya blinked slowly, her eyes narrowing not in judgment but in curiosity. “Want me to try it?” she offered gently, her fingers brushing faint circles across Dazai’s stomach—light as a whisper, warm as breath. “Just trying. No pressure.”

Dazai stared at her for a long moment.

And not because she didn’t trust her.

She did. She trusted her more than anyone. But her mind kept looping with doubt and self-consciousness. Still, Chuuya’s touch was calm. Patient. Not demanding. Just there —ready.

“Well…” Dazai murmured, eyes fixed on Chuuya’s face. “I’ll never know if I don’t try, right?”

Chuuya gave her a soft nod, her fingers never stopping their gentle patterns. “Okay. Just tell me everything—good, bad, meh , ‘move to the left’, ‘stop forever’, whatever. I’m going to start with what I do to myself, but that doesn’t mean it’ll feel good for you .”

Dazai squinted up at her. “Yeah, yeah, Chuuya, you don’t need to sound like a… sex-ed tutorial robot,” she muttered, cheeks faintly pink as she pouted. Still, she lifted her hips to help, letting Chuuya hook her fingers into the waistband of her pants.

Chuuya let out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes. “I’m just trying to be supportive and kind—but if you want me to be mean about it, I can start making fun of your dramatic moans.”

Dazai let out a huff of laughter, quiet but real.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Chuuya added, her voice softening again as she tugged the pants down slowly, revealing more skin inch by inch. “This isn’t like one of our dumb arguments or flirting matches. This is different.”

“I know ,” Dazai said, but her voice was quieter now. Almost grateful.

Chuuya set the pants aside with calm care, then slid her fingers under the edge of Dazai’s underwear. Her movements were slow, measured—not just for Dazai, but for herself. As if acknowledging that this mattered. That it wasn’t just heat or excitement but intimacy .

When the fabric left her completely bare, Dazai sucked in a breath and looked away for a second, her arm draped across her eyes. She felt the sudden chill of the air, the rawness of her own skin. The wetness between her legs made her feel embarrassingly exposed—like she was too much. And God, she hadn’t even shaved. Why hadn’t she shaved? Maybe that would’ve made this less weird.

Chuuya gently settled between her legs, her hands now on Dazai’s thighs.

“Relax,” she whispered, coaxing more than commanding. Her thumbs made slow, small motions against the inside of Dazai’s legs, easing her open with care.

“I am relaxed,” Dazai insisted, though the way her breath caught and her knees tensed gave her away. She swallowed hard, her eyes snapping back to Chuuya’s face. Watching. Studying her expression for any flicker of judgment or surprise or discomfort.

But Chuuya’s face didn’t change.

She looked calm. Focused. Present . Not gawking, not teasing—just looking at her like she was something beautiful and familiar and worth knowing.

And that—more than the touches, more than the words—helped Dazai breathe again.

Chuuya brushed her fingers gently over Dazai’s hips, not going further yet—giving her time.

“We’ll go slow,” she murmured, meeting Dazai’s eyes. “You’re in control, okay?”

Dazai gave a little nod, chest rising and falling with each breath. Her fingers curled around the blanket beneath her, gripping it tight—but she didn’t pull away. Chuuya leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Dazai’s thigh—barely a breath—and then looked up at her again. Dazai’s eyes met hers. Wide, uncertain, but open.

“Okay?” Chuuya asked softly.

Dazai hesitated, her stomach twisting, her heart a rapid thud in her chest. But she nodded. “Okay.”

Chuuya exhaled, slow and steady. Her hand moved gently—fingers trailing down Dazai’s thigh, then closer, brushing lightly through the wetness between her folds. It wasn’t rushed or greedy. It wasn’t even exploratory. It was reverent.

Dazai tensed, not in fear but in hyperawareness. Every nerve in her body focused on the way Chuuya’s fingertip slipped through her slick, parting her slightly, careful not to go in just yet.

And then—slowly, like she was stepping through water—Chuuya pressed a single finger inward.

Dazai sucked in a breath.

It didn’t hurt.
It just… felt.
There was no spark, no immediate wave of pleasure. It was warm. Full. There.

She blinked at the ceiling and frowned a little. “I mean… I feel it. Like, yeah, something’s inside me. That’s all.”

Chuuya didn’t stop. She looked up, voice calm. “That’s okay. Some people feel more inside. Some don’t. Some need other stuff.”

Dazai turned her head slightly, her voice softer now. “It’s not bad. Just… not much .”

“Got it,” Chuuya murmured. She didn’t pull out. Instead, she angled her hand just slightly and added the tiniest movement—curling her finger inward, just once, just gently. Testing. Searching.

Dazai’s brows furrowed slightly. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out for a second.

Chuuya tried again. Just a slow, shallow push and a careful curl. Then another. Still gentle, still deliberate. Her other hand stayed on Dazai’s thigh, thumb stroking in lazy circles like an anchor. “There?” she asked.

“I… don’t know.” Dazai exhaled shakily. “I think it’s… more? But not really good yet. Not like when you’re touching me outside.”

Chuuya gave a small hum. “Okay. Want me to add another finger?”

Dazai swallowed. “Yeah. Let’s try.”

With another soft kiss on her thigh, Chuuya slowly pressed a second finger in beside the first—just as gently, just as carefully. Dazai’s breath hitched again. It wasn’t painful—just tighter, fuller. A stretch. A new kind of sensation.

This time, when Chuuya moved—curling her fingers a bit deeper, a little more firmly—Dazai gasped softly. Not from discomfort. But… something flickered.

“Oh,” she said, blinking.

“Something?” Chuuya asked, her voice still low and patient.

“I… don’t know,” Dazai whispered. “But maybe? Try again.”

Chuuya did—curling again, adjusting the angle slightly, now pressing her thumb flat against Dazai’s clit, applying light, steady pressure there while moving inside her in slow pulses. This time, Dazai’s hips shifted without her permission. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Yeah,” she said, faintly. “That’s… better.”

Chuuya smiled—small, but warm . “Okay,” she murmured, “we’re getting there.” She kept her rhythm—fingers slow, steady, curling just right, her thumb rubbing the tiniest, perfect circles over Dazai’s clit. Nothing harsh. Nothing overwhelming.

Just… enough.
And it was working.
Dazai felt it.

That flicker was growing—starting low in her belly, where everything pulled tight. Her breaths were shorter now, lips parted, her thighs trembling slightly. Chuuya watched her carefully, her face calm but sharp, tuned into every gasp and twitch like she was reading her. Learning her.

Then her voice dropped—low and close, against the skin of Dazai’s stomach. “You feel so good like this.”

Dazai’s breath caught, her hand tightening in the sheets.

Chuuya kissed her just above the bellybutton, her fingers still moving, a little firmer now, a little deeper. “So soft and warm around me,” she murmured. “I can feel how your body pulls me in every time I move.”

Dazai made a choked sound, pressing her lips together. Her face burned, but her hips arched, following the rhythm.

“That’s it,” Chuuya whispered, lips brushing her skin. “You don’t have to hold back, ‘Samu.”

“I’m not —” Dazai tried to say, voice higher than she meant.

Chuuya chuckled under her breath. “You’re literally turning red.”

“Shut up —”

“I don’t think you want me to shut up,” she smirked against her. “You get even wetter when I talk.”

Dazai made a wounded noise and covered her face again—but she didn’t tell her to stop. She couldn’t. Because it was working . Because she was feeling it.

The pressure was building now—heat gathering between her legs, buzzing up through her stomach. Her thighs trembled. Her hips were grinding against Chuuya’s hand without her realizing it. Her body was greedy for it now, every nerve alive and tight and focused.

Chuuya leaned up again, brushing her mouth over Dazai’s jaw. Her fingers never stopped. “Are you close?” she asked softly, voice like velvet. “You sound close. You feel close.”

“I—” Dazai whimpered, trying to speak, to breathe, to think —but it was getting harder. Her whole body was burning. “Yes,” she whispered finally. “I think—God, I think I am.”

Chuuya nuzzled her temple, pressing a soft kiss there, grounding her. “Then let it happen,” she breathed into her skin. “Come for me. I want to feel it.” Her fingers curved deeper, her thumb flicked just right.

And Dazai—

Dazai broke.

Her back arched. Her breath left her in a shaky, startled moan, her body convulsing gently as pleasure ripped through her like a quiet wave—hot, overwhelming, real . Her whole body shuddered around Chuuya’s fingers, clenching tight as she rode the feeling out, burying her face in Chuuya’s neck.

It wasn’t violent. It wasn’t loud.
It was soft . Trembling. Intimate.

But it was hers .
And it was real .

And when her body finally sagged back onto the bed, boneless and flushed and still pulsing, she blinked up at Chuuya with wide, wet eyes. “I—” she started, still breathless, “I didn’t know it could feel like that… lord.”

Chuuya smiled gently, brushing the hair from her sweaty forehead. “You just needed someone to show you.”

Dazai lay there for a moment—chest rising and falling fast, her skin still tingling with aftershocks. She felt dazed, flushed, and light all at once, like something had unclenched inside her. Like some knot she didn’t even realize she was holding had finally unraveled.

But even through the haze, she could feel it. The lingering throb between her legs. The twitch of her thighs. The wet heat still pooling low in her stomach.

“…Chuuya?”

Chuuya was trailing soft kisses over her cheek, her temple, her jaw—gentle, affectionate, like she wasn’t in a rush to move. “Mm?”

Dazai turned her head, her voice still hoarse and shy. “Could you… do it again?”

Chuuya pulled back just enough to look her in the eye. There was no teasing smirk this time. Just this softness—this look of pride , and maybe something almost reverent, like Dazai had just let her touch something sacred. “Of course I can,” she said.

She didn’t ask if she was sure.
She already knew the answer.

She kissed Dazai again, slow and warm, and let her hand slide back down—now familiar, now knowing. And the moment her fingers brushed over Dazai’s folds, the girl flinched—oversensitive now, raw and reactive. 

Chuuya paused, rubbing slow circles instead. “Too much?”

“No,” Dazai whispered, shaking her head quickly. “Just—just keep going. Please.”

Chuuya’s mouth curled into something smaller, darker. She leaned in, brushing her lips over Dazai’s ear. “You liked it that much, huh?”

Dazai shivered hard, her breath catching.

“You came all over my fingers, pretty girl,” Chuuya purred. “Now you’re already dripping again.”

Dazai’s thighs squeezed instinctively, her whole face burning. “Chuuya—”

“Hm?” Chuuya let her fingers slide through the slick again, a little slower this time, just barely brushing over Dazai’s clit. “Still shy after all that?”

“I hate your mouth—”

“No, you love it,” Chuuya smirked. “You were moaning for me not even five minutes ago.”

Dazai groaned, tossing her head back—but she didn’t tell her to stop. Especially not when Chuuya slipped two fingers back inside her, slow and steady.

Dazai gasped, her hips jerking up. Her walls fluttered around the intrusion—still sensitive, still stretched—but this time, she didn’t need to adjust. Her body welcomed it. Chuuya moved carefully at first, curling her fingers just like before, finding that rhythm again. But this time, Dazai melted into it quicker—her body already humming with memory, nerves already tuned to pleasure.

Her thighs trembled. Her breath hitched. Her voice—so controlled before—was already spilling out in soft, desperate whimpers.

“Fuck,” she breathed. “That feels—Chuuya—God, that feels even better now.”

“Yeah?” Chuuya asked, her thumb pressing over her clit again, slower this time, coaxing. “You’re so sensitive now. Your body’s begging me for it.”

“I’m not—begging—”

“You are,” Chuuya whispered. “You’re squeezing around me like you missed it already.”

Her words rolled over Dazai like heat.

She could feel herself throbbing—every curl of Chuuya’s fingers inside her sending a jolt through her spine. Her clit was too sensitive now, every brush making her hips jerk, her mouth fall open in a needy gasp.

Chuuya didn’t let up. She kept talking, soft and low, her mouth brushing along Dazai’s jaw. “I love making you feel like this. Love having you all open and wet for me.”

“Shut up—” Dazai whimpered, but her hips didn’t stop moving.

“Do you know how fucking hot you are like this?” Chuuya murmured, tongue flicking against her ear. “All flushed, grinding into my hand like you can’t help it. You’re so fucking pretty when you let go.”

Dazai keened, high and breathless, her fingers digging into Chuuya’s arm. “I—Chuuya— fuck , I’m close again—”

“I know,” Chuuya whispered, picking up the pace slightly, her fingers gliding in deep and steady, her thumb circling harder now. “Come for me again, Dazai. Let me feel it.”

And Dazai did.

Harder this time.
Louder.

Her body arched, her legs trembling violently as the second orgasm tore through her—sharper, wetter, overwhelming. Her head pressed back into the pillow, her hand flying to grip Chuuya’s wrist, holding on as wave after wave wracked her. She cried out, not caring how she sounded.

She wasn’t thinking at all anymore. Just feeling . Letting go completely.

And Chuuya held her through it all, murmuring, “That’s it. Fuck, you’re perfect. So perfect for me.”

Dazai lay there, chest heaving, legs still twitching slightly from the aftermath. Her body was warm and spent and melting into the mattress, like she could fuse with the bed and never move again.

Chuuya’s fingers had already slipped out, careful, gentle. Her hand now rested on Dazai’s thigh, rubbing slow circles there, grounding her. And for a moment, there was just silence. Heavy breathing. Skin against skin. Warmth.

Then—

“Hey,” Chuuya murmured, brushing some of Dazai’s sweaty hair away from her face. “You still alive?”

Dazai cracked one eye open and made a vague noise in her throat, like a dying cat. “Barely.”

Chuuya laughed softly, her voice warm and smug. “Mm. Good.” She pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Another to her collarbone. Then she nuzzled close, lips brushing her ear. “Think you’ve got enough strength left in those long arms to return the favor?”

Dazai blinked, her cheeks going bright red instantly.

Chuuya pulled back just enough to look down at her, still smiling—but softer now. Not demanding. Just asking. “If not, it’s okay,” she added, brushing her thumb over Dazai’s hipbone. “I meant what I said. This wasn’t about keeping score.”

Dazai stared at her.

Still breathless. Still overwhelmed.
But not scared .

Because Chuuya wasn’t asking to make her feel guilty. She wasn’t saying you owe me . She was offering the moment back to her. Gifting her a chance to touch , to learn. To love back.

Slowly, Dazai exhaled. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t either,” Chuuya said simply.

“But you’re…” Dazai’s eyes dropped to her chest, and then lower. “You look so confident.”

Chuuya snorted. “It’s called faking it. And being really horny.”

Dazai rolled her eyes. “Oh my God.”

Chuuya leaned in close, brushing her nose against Dazai’s. “So?”

Dazai hesitated. Then she pushed herself up—slow and clumsy and still trembling—and shifted, so Chuuya was lying back this time, looking up at her.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow. “So this is happening?”

“I don’t want to not try,” Dazai said, voice still a little breathless. “You were good to me. I want to try.”

Chuuya reached up, cupping Dazai’s cheek gently. “Then try.”

Chuuya lay back, her hair fanned out around her like a halo of soft red fire. Her chest rose and fell steadily, the dim light catching on her flushed skin, her nipples still pebbled from earlier attention. She had long since lost her bra, and her shirt was forgotten somewhere on the floor—so Dazai had full access to the masterpiece in front of her.

Still half-dressed, sure—pants low on her hips—but somehow that just made it worse . Hotter .

Dazai stared for a long second. “You’re really unfair,” she said eventually, blinking like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “You’re just… like this? All the time?”

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, her voice dry. “Like what?”

“Ridiculously hot,” Dazai deadpanned, hands hovering just above her waist. “Like, it’s insane. Absurd. There should be a law against looking like this and still being smart and cool and good at punching people.”

Chuuya’s ears turned pink.

“Oh my God ,” Dazai whispered. “You’re blushing .”

“I’m not —” Chuuya started, but her voice caught.

“No, no, you are ,” Dazai said with a wicked grin, leaning closer, her hair brushing against Chuuya’s skin. “This is so precious. This moment is mine forever.”

“You’re such an asshole ,” Chuuya grumbled, but her voice was breathy now, and her thighs had shifted slightly.

Dazai’s hand finally landed—one palm pressing flat against Chuuya’s stomach. Her fingers splayed out, slowly stroking over toned skin. “God. You’re so soft and strong at the same time. That’s so unfair.” She leaned down, brushing her lips over Chuuya’s collarbone. “I want to kiss every freckle. Every line.”

Her mouth traveled lower—pressing kisses to the swell of her breast, to the curve of her ribs, to the space just under. Her hands moved with her—one cupping the side of Chuuya’s chest, the other sliding slowly up her waist.

Chuuya let out a shaky breath, her fingers twitching where they rested on the sheets.

“Okay,” Dazai murmured, voice thoughtful. “Tell me if I’m doing anything weird. I don’t know the rules yet.”

“There’s no rules,” Chuuya whispered, her eyes fluttering closed. “Just what feels good.”

Dazai blinked. “Oh, then I’m definitely going to touch you everywhere.”

She leaned in, pressing a kiss to one of Chuuya’s nipples—soft at first, then suckling lightly, experimentally.

Chuuya arched, breath catching.

Dazai pulled back for just a second, looking smug. “That was a noise.”

“You’re impossible,” Chuuya muttered, but her voice was tight now, laced with anticipation.

“You’re gorgeous,” Dazai said, more sincerely this time, her fingers tracing down Chuuya’s side. “And I love making you squirm.”

She leaned over and took the other nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue gently, while her hand traveled down Chuuya’s stomach—just until her fingers hovered at the waistband of her pants.

She paused. Looked up. “May I?”

Chuuya stared at her—red-faced, eyes slightly wide, lips parted—and gave a single, breathless nod. “Yeah. Please.”

Dazai slid her fingers under the waistband of Chuuya’s pants and slowly, almost reverently, tugged them down. Chuuya helped, lifting her hips just slightly, and Dazai carefully peeled them off—along with her underwear—leaving her completely bare beneath her.

And God .

She just stared for a second.

Chuuya, breathless and flushed, legs spread slightly, hair wild on the pillows—looked like something from a dream Dazai would’ve pretended she didn’t have.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” Dazai whispered without thinking, eyes raking over her. “This is some next-level fantasy stuff.”

Chuuya groaned, dragging a hand over her face. “Don’t—say it like that—”

Dazai grinned like a menace . “But it’s true! Look at you, lying here, all naked and pink and pretty.”

“I will kill you,” Chuuya muttered—but she was squirming now, her knees twitching just a bit closer together.

Dazai leaned in, pressing kisses over her stomach again—down her ribs, back up to her chest.

And then—

She buried her face between Chuuya’s breasts with a dramatic sigh, arms wrapping around her sides like a kid hugging a pillow. “Finally,” she said, voice muffled, “I’ve reached heaven.”

“You’re ridiculous— ” Chuuya started, laughing breathlessly—but the sound cut off when Dazai turned her head and sucked one of her nipples into her mouth again.

And this time? She stayed there.

Her hands slid up—cupping Chuuya’s breasts fully, feeling the weight and shape of them with greedy fingers—and her mouth was everywhere. Kissing. Sucking. Nipping gently, then soothing.

“I love your tits,” she murmured, letting her tongue flick gently against a now very sensitive nipple. “Softest thing ever. Like, I could die here.”

“Okay, perv ,” Chuuya gasped—but her voice broke halfway, and her hips shifted slightly, her legs falling more open. Her hands were tangled in the sheets now, tight.

“You like it,” Dazai teased, nuzzling her way down her body again. “I can feel your thighs shaking.”

“I’m going to throw you out a window,” Chuuya muttered, but she didn’t push her away. Not even close. 

Instead, she gasped again—sharp and high—when Dazai’s hand brushed gently between her legs. Fingers soft, curious.

“…You’re so wet,” Dazai said softly, blinking in awe. “Like, I didn’t know people could get this wet.”

“Then stop talking and do something,” Chuuya hissed, hiding her face in her arm.

Dazai laughed under her breath—but obeyed. Her fingers moved gently—slow strokes, just like Chuuya had done to her. She explored, feeling the way Chuuya trembled under her touch, the little gasps she let out when Dazai rubbed just right.

Then—very carefully—Dazai pressed a single finger between her folds, testing. She glanced up. “Okay?”

Chuuya nodded quickly. “Yeah—go.”

So she did. She slid one finger inside.

The heat. The tightness. The way Chuuya’s hips rolled up to meet her hand—

Dazai’s breath caught. “ Oh ,” she said faintly. “You feel… amazing.”

“Dazai—” Chuuya groaned, clearly flustered now.

Dazai smiled, proud. “That was a noise. You like my fingers.”

“Shut up and curl them already—”

“Right! Right.” She got to work—curling her finger experimentally, rubbing the heel of her hand lightly against Chuuya’s clit. “Like this?”

Chuuya arched —body taut, her hand flying to grip Dazai’s wrist. “Yes— fuck , yes.”

Dazai’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, you really like it.” She leaned in again, voice lower, more genuine. “I wanna make you come. I wanna be the one who makes you feel that good.”

And she started moving—slower, deeper, curling her finger with more purpose, her other hand going right back to Chuuya’s chest.

Chuuya was trembling already. And Dazai? She was just getting started. Thank God, this was luck. Dazai moved slowly, cautiously curling her finger inside Chuuya—half-mesmerized, half-terrified she’d mess it up.

But then Chuuya moaned. Really moaned. Her back arched, her thighs trembled, and her hips rocked forward like her body needed more.

And Dazai blinked down at her, wide-eyed and awestruck. “You’re…” she breathed. “You’re actually enjoying this.”

Chuuya cracked an eye open, cheeks flushed, eyes heavy-lidded. “Was that in doubt ?”

“I mean—I don’t know ! I’m just… doing what you did to me,” Dazai muttered, flustered. “I’m following the steps like a recipe.”

Chuuya huffed out a breathy laugh, biting her lip. “Well, for someone reading off a manual, you’re doing pretty damn well.”

Dazai puffed out her chest proudly—then immediately fumbled, her finger moving at an awkward pace, not quite syncing with Chuuya’s rhythm anymore.

Chuuya’s brows furrowed. “Okay—wait. That—don’t stop—but you’ve gotta pick a pace , babe.”

Dazai blinked. “A pace?”

Chuuya nodded, her voice tight. “You’re kinda… stabbing me slowly and then jabbing me like a metronome having a crisis.”

Dazai blinked again. “…Right.”

She cleared her throat and focused , adjusting her hand—this time keeping her movement consistent, curling just slightly on each thrust, her thumb catching the slick heat of Chuuya’s clit.

Chuuya gasped —her whole body reacting immediately, hips rolling up in sync with Dazai’s hand. “ There ,” she hissed, fingers tightening in the sheets. “Like that .”

Dazai flushed, a pleased smile tugging at her lips. “Got it.” And this time—this time—she stuck with it.

She moved steadily, curling her finger with purpose, letting the heel of her palm grind gently as Chuuya bucked beneath her. She leaned over her again, watching everything—the way Chuuya’s lips parted, the little trembles in her thighs, the tightening of her stomach muscles with every thrust.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Dazai murmured before she could stop herself.

Chuuya let out a breathy laugh— blushing hard , face half-buried in the pillow. “You’re—ugh—such a pain.”

“But you like it,” Dazai whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then her jaw. “You like my voice, don’t you? You like when I say things.”

Chuuya didn’t answer, but her hips rolled harder, chasing each stroke.

“You do,” Dazai said, smiling like she’d won something. “You like when I tell you how fucking perfect your body is. How tight you are around me. How wet you’ve gotten for me.”

Chuuya moaned, her head falling back. “ Dazai— ”

“I’m gonna add another finger,” Dazai whispered.

Chuuya nodded quickly, breath hitching. “Y-Yeah.”

Dazai eased a second finger in, slowly, gently.

And when she curled them both—just right, with that same steady rhythm—Chuuya’s body shuddered , thighs trembling, chest heaving.

“Holy shit ,” Chuuya breathed. “That’s— fuck —you’re doing so good—”

And Dazai? She was grinning, flushed and wide-eyed and completely in awe. “Oh my God,” she whispered, still moving inside her, slow and rhythmic. “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?”

“ Maybe, ” Chuuya gasped, hands flying to grip Dazai’s shoulders.

“I really hope so,” Dazai murmured, her voice dropping low, reverent. “I want to feel it. I want you to come on my fingers, Chuuya.”

Chuuya whimpered—loud, high, desperate. Dazai didn’t stop.

Her fingers moved inside Chuuya with more purpose now—steady, confident, curling just the way Chuuya had liked before. She’d learned her rhythm. She’d learned the sound of Chuuya’s breath when something really hit. The little gasps when her thumb passed over her clit just right. The way her thighs twitched when she was getting close.

And now?

Chuuya was unraveling.

Her hands clutched Dazai’s shoulders, her nails digging in slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to hold. Her hips rolled in rhythm, matching Dazai’s every movement with instinctive, desperate need.

Dazai couldn’t stop watching.

She had never seen Chuuya like this.

Her eyes were half-closed, her cheeks flushed deep red, her lips parted, chest heaving as she chased pleasure. Her voice—normally sharp and sure—was all broken sounds now. Soft whimpers. Low moans. Barely-there gasps of “fuck” and “right there” and “don’t stop.”

It was so raw . So honest .

And Dazai—

She was stunned.

Because she was the one doing this.

Her fingers were inside Chuuya, her palm was grinding against her clit, and Chuuya was falling apart under her hands like she belonged there. “Chuuya,” she whispered, overwhelmed by how beautiful she was. “You’re…”

She trailed off. Because how was she supposed to describe it?

Perfect?
Radiant?
The most stunning thing she’d ever seen?

“You’re everything, ” she breathed finally, voice trembling.

Chuuya whimpered at that, her hands sliding down to grip Dazai’s waist instead—pulling her closer, grounding herself. “Don’t—stop—”

“I won’t,” Dazai promised, leaning over her, forehead pressed to Chuuya’s. “I won’t stop. I want you to come for me. I want to see it.” Her fingers moved faster—still gentle, but more insistent, more there . Her thumb circled Chuuya’s clit, wet and steady. She kissed her temple, her cheek, her lips.

And Chuuya broke .

Her whole body arched, thighs trembling violently as she cried out—loud and helpless and real .

Dazai felt it.

The way her walls clamped down around her fingers. The way her stomach clenched and her legs shook and her breath caught mid-moan. She kept moving through it, helping her ride the wave until Chuuya finally collapsed back against the pillows, spent and glowing.

Dazai just stared.

Heart pounding. Breath shaky. Her fingers still curled gently inside her.

“…You’re amazing,” she whispered, too stunned to say anything else.

Chuuya opened her eyes slowly, cheeks flushed to the roots of her hair. “You’re—so annoying —” she mumbled, voice still thick with afterglow. “Why are you— this sweet right after fingering me into a coma?”

Dazai grinned, eyes crinkling. “Because you looked like a goddess and I just got to worship you, obviously.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Dazai gently pulled her fingers out, careful, and then settled beside her—arms wrapping tight around her trembling, warm body. “I’m serious,” she murmured into her hair. “That was… that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Chuuya pressed her face into Dazai’s neck, trying to hide the way she was smiling now. “…Idiot.”

But her arms wrapped around her too. Tight. Soft.

Home.

They lay tangled up in the soft quiet of the moment, warm skin against warm skin, the sheets half-twisted around their legs. Chuuya was still catching her breath, her head tucked under Dazai’s chin, one hand resting lazily on her stomach.

Dazai, for once, was mostly quiet. Mostly. Until she shifted slightly, blinked up at the ceiling… and asked: “…Hey, Chuuya?”

Chuuya hummed, half-asleep. “Mmm?”

Dazai tilted her head. “Can I taste you?”

Silence.

Complete, devastating, explosive silence.

Chuuya froze in place—every muscle going stiff—before she slowly, slowly lifted her head to stare at Dazai like she’d grown a second head. “…What?” she croaked.

Dazai blinked innocently. “You know. Taste you.” She lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’ve just been thinking about it. Since earlier. I’m curious.”

Chuuya made a noise that sounded like a short-circuiting radio. “Wh—You— Now ?!”

“I didn’t say now, ” Dazai laughed. “I mean. Unless you’re up for it.”

Chuuya groaned, hiding her face in her hands, her entire body burning red-hot. “Why are you like this.”

Dazai grinned. “Curious. Scientific. Gay.”

“You’re ridiculous, ” Chuuya muttered, voice muffled behind her hands.

Dazai leaned closer, her breath brushing over Chuuya’s ear. “But seriously… I want to know what you taste like.”

Chuuya’s ears went redder. “You’re really—God— serious, aren’t you?”

Dazai shrugged again, voice softer now. “I mean… yeah.” She reached out, brushing a thumb gently over Chuuya’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful, Chuuya. Everything about you turns me on. I want to learn everything. All of you. And yeah, part of that means I want to taste you. Not just to make you squirm—though that’s a bonus.”

Chuuya groaned, flopping back into the pillows, face completely flushed. “I hate how good you are at making weird things sound romantic.”

“I’m amazing,” Dazai said sweetly, climbing half over her again, resting her chin on Chuuya’s chest. “So… can I?”

Chuuya peeked at her between her fingers, clearly torn between dying and combusting on the spot. “…God, give me like… five minutes.”

Dazai lit up. “So that’s a yes.”

“It’s a maybe if I recover from this mortifying moment, ” Chuuya grumbled.

“Perfect. I’ll wait,” Dazai said cheerfully, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “Patient. Sweet. Thoughtful. See? I’m a great girlfriend.”

Chuuya rolled her eyes. Still blushing furiously. Still smiling.

About ten minutes later—after Chuuya had sufficiently hidden under the blanket, groaned into a pillow, and threatened to punch Dazai at least twice —they were lying on their sides again, wrapped around each other. The air had cooled a bit, but the heat between them? Still very much present .

Chuuya was blushing down to her chest. Dazai was smiling like she’d just won the gay Olympics.

“Are you still thinking about it?” Chuuya asked, voice tight.

Dazai tilted her head, eyes sparkling. “Of course I am. You said I could, didn’t you?”

“I said maybe—!”

“You didn’t say no. ” Dazai slowly rolled onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows, gazing down at Chuuya’s very bare, very flushed body. “Besides… I’ve been patient.”

“You stared at me the whole time.”

“Patiently.”

Chuuya groaned again, dragging a hand over her face. “You’re impossible.”

Dazai grinned and began kissing down her stomach, one soft kiss after another. “But you’re letting me,” she whispered against her skin. “Which means you trust me. Which means I’m gonna be so gentle.”

Chuuya sucked in a breath. “Dazai…”

But Dazai had already slid lower—settling between her legs, arms hooked under her thighs, her cheek resting briefly against Chuuya’s inner thigh. Her breath was warm. And her voice was quiet. “Tell me to stop if anything feels wrong, okay?”

“…Okay.”

Then Dazai leaned in and licked . Just one tentative, curious stroke. And immediately lifted her head again. “…Huh.”

Chuuya blinked, red-faced and confused. “ Huh? ”

Dazai sat there, brows furrowed, clearly thinking. “…I don’t know what I expected,” she said slowly. “Like—everyone says things. Like it’s sweet or whatever. But it’s not sweet. It’s… it’s you. ”

Chuuya groaned, throwing an arm over her face. “Dazai, I swear—”

“No, no, wait!” Dazai laughed, scooting closer again, her face lighting up. “It’s good! I’m not complaining—I’m just… figuring it out.” She paused.

Then went in for a second taste—slower this time, more deliberate. And something changed.

Chuuya let out a sound —a soft gasp, thighs twitching around Dazai’s shoulders. And Dazai? Dazai blinked, then licked again, slower, firmer.

“Oh.” She paused, then smiled.

Oh.
Okay.
That?

She liked.
She really liked.

She licked again—pressing her tongue more firmly this time, dragging it slow and smooth through Chuuya’s folds, tasting everything, paying attention to every twitch, every breath, every tiny noise.

And then she pulled back for just a second to say: “…You taste really good.”

Chuuya choked. “Why would you say that—”

“I’m being honest! ” Dazai laughed, but her voice had dropped a little—lower, warmer. “You taste like... you. And now I want more.”

Chuuya’s head fell back with a soft thunk against the pillow. “Oh my God.”

Dazai didn’t wait anymore. She leaned in again, more confident now—tongue sliding between her folds with practiced, focused movements. She let her lips part, mouth closing around her clit just barely , giving the lightest suck.

Chuuya gasped.

Dazai felt it—the way her body tensed again, the way her hips tilted upward. And Dazai just smiled against her.

Yep.

Hooked.

Dazai didn’t know what she was doing. Not really. No one had handed her a guidebook for this. There were no diagrams, no lessons, no step-by-step walkthrough for how to eat your incredibly hot, perfect girlfriend out for the first time.

All she had were instincts.

And her instincts were screaming three things:

One: Chuuya tasted so much better than she ever could’ve imagined.
Two: She loved being this close to her.
Three: She wanted to make Chuuya fall apart.

So she stayed there—between her thighs, tongue exploring cautiously at first. She listened. To every breath, every quiet gasp, every tiny shift of Chuuya’s hips. She paid attention to what made her thighs tremble. What made her moan. What made her hands fist in the sheets.

And then?

She started really trying.

She flattened her tongue and dragged it slowly up, moaning softly at the taste. She didn’t even realize she was doing it until Chuuya shuddered.

Then again.
Firmer now.
She flicked her tongue once—just once—against her clit.

Chuuya gasped, hips jerking up.

Dazai’s eyes fluttered open, wide with wonder. “Oh my God,” she whispered, voice low, reverent, face still buried between her legs. “That was you. You reacted to that.”

“Dazai—” Chuuya breathed, sounding wrecked . “Keep going—don’t talk about it—!”

But Dazai grinned against her. Because she’d found something.

She started working more deliberately now—flicking her tongue in slow, teasing strokes, then circling, then flattening again. She tried everything she could think of, watching for every twitch, every inhale, every muffled moan.

It wasn’t perfect—her rhythm kept slipping, her angles weren’t always right—but she kept adjusting .

And God, she was learning.

Fast.

Because Chuuya was loud now. And shaking. And trying not to beg, but Dazai could hear it, could feel it, in the way her thighs pressed in, in the way she arched her back and grabbed the pillow above her head like she didn’t know where else to put her hands.

Dazai’s fingers held her thighs open, and she pressed in deeper, licking slowly, dragging her tongue up one more time before suckling lightly at her clit.

“ Fuck —” Chuuya gasped, high and broken. “Dazai—God— don’t stop— ”

Dazai pulled back just enough to whisper, breathless, eyes dark with awe: “You taste so good, Chuuya. I want to stay here forever.”

“ Please shut up—”

“Nope,” Dazai grinned. “I’m falling in love with your pussy.”

“ DAZAI— ”

But she was already back at it—tongue circling, pressing, then flicking in exactly the same rhythm that had made Chuuya tremble.

She had two wins now: she was tasting her, and she was making her girlfriend feel incredible .

And honestly? This was addicting.

Dazai moved one hand up—pressing it flat over Chuuya’s stomach to hold her still as she worked her tongue faster, more confident now. The tiny whimpers Chuuya was letting out? The way she kept saying her name in a way that sounded like both prayer and curse?

It made Dazai’s whole body burn.

She didn’t know how she’d gone this long without this. Without knowing this part of Chuuya—this fragile, messy, real part. She’d never seen her like this. She’d never known she could see her like this. And now? She didn’t want to stop.

Chuuya was close.

Dazai could feel it—every part of her was saying it. Her thighs trembled under Dazai’s hands, tense and pressing in like she couldn’t take much more. Her breath hitched with every flick of Dazai’s tongue. Her hips rolled against her mouth, chasing the pressure. And the sounds she made—those gasps, those strangled moans—Dazai didn’t even know how they could get prettier.

Dazai tried to keep the pace—her rhythm wasn’t perfect, sometimes she overshot, sometimes her angle was off, but she adjusted every time. She focused on the parts that made Chuuya twitch and arch and whimper . She circled her clit with the flat of her tongue again, then gave a gentle suck—not too hard, not too long.

And Chuuya broke .

Her whole body seized up—hips jolting forward, back arching off the bed as a loud, choked cry ripped from her throat. “ Dazai—! ”

It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t drawn-out or movie-perfect.
It was raw .

Sudden.

Overwhelming.

And Dazai felt it .

Felt the way Chuuya’s body clenched and trembled. Felt the slickness spread over her tongue, the hot, pulsing intensity of it. She hadn’t even known it would feel like that—Chuuya shaking and breathless and completely falling apart against her mouth. She kept going, gentle now, licking her through it, slower, easing her down.

Chuuya whimpered something too quiet to catch—her body still twitching, her hands grabbing the sheets, eyes squeezed shut.

Dazai pulled back just a little, breath warm, lips slick and cheeks flushed. She was stunned. Totally stunned.

She stared up at her, lips parted, chest heaving slightly from where she knelt between her thighs.

She did that.

She made Chuuya come. And not just come— lose herself . Trust her. Fall apart in her mouth. 

“…You came,” Dazai whispered, almost in awe.

Chuuya laughed breathlessly, voice half-broken. “ You think—? ”

Dazai blinked, dazed. “No, I mean—like. I felt it.” She ran her hand gently over Chuuya’s trembling thigh. “It was intense. You—you shook . And there was this moment where I didn’t know if I should stop or keep going, but you were so beautiful and—and loud —and—”

Chuuya reached down, grabbed a pillow, and threw it at her face. “Stop narrating it, you freak !”

Dazai caught it with a grin, flopping to the side and curling up beside her again. “I’m just saying,” she said softly, brushing sweaty strands of red hair from Chuuya’s cheek. “That was… a whole new experience.”

Chuuya turned her face away, hiding the smile that pulled at her lips. “…You didn’t even do it perfectly.”

“I know! ” Dazai laughed, resting her head on Chuuya’s shoulder. “And it was still enough. You still— God , you were amazing.”

Chuuya turned back and looked at her. Her face was flushed. Her breathing still uneven. Her whole body glowing . “…You were amazing too,” she said softly. “Clumsy. But amazing.”

Dazai looked smug. “Told you I’d like the taste.”

Chuuya groaned, burying her face in Dazai’s neck. “…Never letting you live this down,” she mumbled.

“I’m counting on it,” Dazai whispered, kissing the top of her head, arms wrapping around her. “I want to remember every second.”

And they stayed there—close, quiet, flushed and still panting slightly, wrapped up in each other.

No more talking.

Just breathing.

Together.