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for what ails you

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Chuuya walks through her front door, sees Dazai in a maid's outfit, and almost walks back out.

She's too fucking tired for whatever it is Dazai is planning, but she's also too fucking tired to pretend that Dazai, dressed demurely with her gaze lowered and her full mouth curved in a hint of a smile, is anything other than insanely attractive. Her long hair is even swept into a soft chignon bun, and she dips into a curtsy that makes Chuuya's nipples tighten just from the sight. Chuuya doesn't say a word, though, just kicks off her shoes and hangs up her coat and hat as Dazai keeps her skirts spread and her head lowered.

"Welcome home, mistress."

"What the fuck do you want, Dazai?"

Alright, so her attempt at stonewalling didn't exactly last long, but it's the principle of the matter. The convoluted rules that guide their relationship have been broken ineffable way Chuuya can't put a finger on, which only pisses her off more. The rules weren't even Chuuya's idea; they'd been Dazai's, presumably, well, to achieve something, but fuck if Chuuya knows what. Dazai can walk through filth and come out smelling like roses, so it's not like she needs rules, and Chuuya will just flatten anyone who opposes her.

But Dazai's here, and dressed up like every stupid, childish fantasy that Chuuya's ever had, as though she'd go down to her knees and eat Chuuya out if Chuuya said the word, and Chuuya doesn't know what to do.

"I'm here to serve," Dazai says softly, lashes fluttering.

"What's the catch?" Chuuya pushes past her, and goes to collapse on the couch. She's had a fucking long day, full of paperwork and meetings and blood on her hands—not of her enemies, but of her subordinates, and that's the kind of blood that actually hurts. They trust her, and Chuuya has always done everything she could to make that trust worth it. She rubs at her forehead. Sometimes, she thinks these games she and Dazai play are always a loss for her, no matter how many orgasms she gets out of it. This is just another war for Dazai to win, another—fuck. Chuuya doesn't know what. She's cranky and exhausted and upset, damn it. "Go away."

"I don't know how else to help."

Chuuya's eyes fly open and she stares at the ceiling, heart in her throat. "Who are you, and what have you done with Dazai?" she jokes weakly after a too-long silence. They're not this. They've never been this.

Except—except Dazai's slept here an awful lot. Except Chuuya buys Dazai sake and always keeps crab in the house. Except Dazai always handles their dry cleaning. Except Chuuya would move heaven and earth to protect this strange little world they've found themselves in, where sometimes they go on missions together and other days they go out to dinner together, where they're always tangled up together more than Chuuya realizes. She doesn't even regret it, these days.

Except. There are a lot of exceptions, it seems.

Chuuya turns her face towards Dazai as she curtsies again, deeper this time, and Chuuya swallows down a sound of wanting. "I don't know how else to help," Dazai repeats evenly. "So I thought that using me as you please might at least help you sleep tonight."

"You think it's really that simple?"

"Of course not," Dazai says, and there she is, the Dazai that Chuuya knows so well, rolling her eyes like Chuuya's said something unbearably stupid. "But do you have a better idea?"

She doesn't. Damn it. Dazai's mouth twitches with a shit-eating grin and Chuuya sticks out her hand and growls, "Then fucking come here, you garbage fire."

Dazai straddles her in a heartbeat. Chuuya watches as she pulls out pin after pin from her hair, until that stupidly long, dark hair is curling around her shoulders and chest, framing her breasts perfectly. Chuuya's control snaps, and she drags Dazai down for a kiss before either of them can think. Dazai opens her mouth instantly, and everything is hot and slick and sharp, tongue and teeth, demanding and hungry. Chuuya pushes up Dazai's skirt, callused fingers running up the smooth silk of her stockings to the garter holding them up.

By the time she reaches Dazai's ass, however, she realizes that Dazai is not wearing any actually underwear at all. There's nothing here but silk, skirts, and smooth skin.

"Fuck," Chuuya says.

Dazai smirks. "Later, mistress," she purrs. "First, I want to make you feel good. May I?"

"What did you have in mind?" Chuuya asks, but Dazai's already unbuttoning Chuuya's vest and shirt and pushing them aside to bare her chest. Luckily, Chuuya's wearing a front-closure bra today, in part because Dazai's the most useless woman on the planet and literally cannot unhook Chuuya's bras during sex, at all, ever. As a result, Chuuya's gradually invested in bras easier to remove; the investment is made completely and utterly worth it when Dazai slides apart the clasp between Chuuya's breasts in an instant and pushes it out of the way.

Then her mouth is hot and soft on Chuuya's nipple, and Chuuya shudders. She's getting wet.

She moans, back arching as Dazai tugs lightly at the bars that pierce Chuuya's nipples. A moment later, her teeth put just enough pressure on the bar that Chuuya gasps, arching again. Her breasts already ache for more contact. She buries her hands in Dazai's hair, riding the sensations as Dazai torments her until her nipples throb with sensitivity.

"Fuck," she groans, and Dazai squirms against her in answer. Chuuya wants to chase that movement, see if Dazai's already wet too, but she's distracted when Dazai bites down in earnest. Chuuya yelps, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure.

Dazai pushes her skirt out of the way and goes right for the button of Chuuya's pants even as she soothes away the sting of her bite. "That's right, you better," Chuuya mutters, as though that'll do anything. Dazai's smile is quicksilver against her skin, but then she stands up, and the cold air makes Chuuya's skin prickle. Because Dazai's evil, she blows over Chuuya's spit-slick nipples and Chuuya curses while she shudders again.

Just as Chuuya's about to make an annoyed comment, Dazai's settling elegantly between her thighs, lashes brushing her cheeks, hair sliding over her shoulder. "Can I eat you out, mistress?" she murmurs. "I want to taste you so badly. I've been thinking about it since I put this dress on, whether you'd let me serve you."

Fuck. What the hell is Chuuya supposed to say to that except yes? She pushes her pants and underwear down out of the way, and Dazai's hands slide up her thighs, further exposing her. Just the sight of Dazai greedily staring at her makes Chuuya want more sensation, and she tweaks her own nipples, letting the pleasure roll through her.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Chuuya purrs. "I thought you were going to be all about pleasing me today."

Dazai glances at her, a lazy half-smile on her face, and then she's got her hands on Chuuya's ass and her tongue buried inside her.

Chuuya's thighs tighten on either side of Dazai's head and she groans—somewhere along the line, this has changed too. Dazai knows how to set every nerve alight, and it's not going to take anything at all for Chuuya to actually come. She's been on edge all day, and the tension of work is morphing into the tension of desire. As Dazai's fingers dig into her ass, keeping her at just the perfect angle for Dazai to work, Chuuya tugs at her own nipples again. She's wet as much from Dazai's mouth as her own need.

The pleasure builds, hard and fast, as Dazai presses her tongue deep inside Chuuya, tasting her every bit as eagerly as she'd desire, but it's still not enough. Chuuya needs Dazai's mouth on her clit, and she needs it now. "I know you know what I need. Give it to me," Chuuya snarls, tugging on Dazai's hair. "And don't give me any—" Chuuya gasps, toes curling as Dazai hums. "Dazai," Chuuya snaps, insistent, but moans when Dazai's tongue slides out of her and glides across her folds. "Dazai, make me come."

Dazai smiles for an instant, and then her tongue flicks over Chuuya's clit.

It's glorious.

Chuuya keeps Dazai's face right there, doesn't even give her a chance to breathe as she begins a hard, fast rhythm that they both know will make Chuuya come. It's everything Chuuya didn't know she wanted, muscles quivering, nipples aching, toes curling as she hovers on the edge. Then Dazai slides two fingers inside her while her tongue flicks perfectly against Chuuya's clit and that's it.

She comes hard, squirming against Dazai's tongue and fingers until she's satisfied and collapses against the couch to try and catch her breath. Dazai strokes her thighs while Chuuya pinches her own nipples a few more times so sharp, sweet aftershocks roll through her. "Gods," she sighs finally. "Yes."

Dazai's slick from nose to chin but looks satisfied as she licks her lips and then dabs the rest of it away with a fucking handkerchief, and somehow it's the most sensual thing so far. "What the hell," Chuuya says mildly. "How are you like this?"

"Like what?" Dazai asks. She smiles innocently. "Mistress."

"Holy fuck just go—go to the bedroom, gods." Chuuya gets to her feet somehow, discards what little clothing she's still wearing in a heap next to her panties and pants, and then heads to the kitchen to drink a glass of water and try to get her head screwed on right. It doesn't work, but it's a good faith effort nevertheless, and at least Dazai had listened to her rather than staying in the living room to judge her. She wriggles her bare toes against the tile of the kitchen, considering her next move, but really, the conclusion is foregone.

Chuuya's going to strip Dazai out of that fucking perfect, awful, delicious costume, and she's going to make sure they both go to bed very, very satisfied. She considers that for a moment, and then amends it. The stockings and garters can stay because Chuuya is nothing if not a red-blooded woman, and just the thought of Dazai, spread out and panting on their sheets with that smooth, dark silk clinging to her thighs—well. Chuuya hastens to the bedroom.

She finds Dazai kneeling at the foot of the bed, and there's something that might even be concern over Chuuya that flashes in her eyes for a split second before it clears. Chuuya doesn't mention it, just strides across the intervening space and kisses Dazai like it's the last thing she'll ever do. Dazai goes boneless in response, allowing Chuuya to ruin her, welcoming that ruination, because it's Chuuya, and somehow they've fallen in trust with each other, which is more alluring than love could ever be.

"Thank you," Chuuya growls against her mouth.

"You're welcome," Dazai breathes back, neutral and stripped of artifice, and Chuuya has to rest their foreheads together for just a moment.

Then Chuuya inhales and says with a grin, "Now, let's get you out of that dress."

Getting Dazai out of that dress is a process. It involves removing the apron and unbuttoning her cuffs and undoing the zipper and a hundred other little steps that Chuuya performs with the kind of reverence and passion she knows terrifies Dazai just a little, even now. She leaves it on the floor, and admires the black lace bra Dazai's wearing, which matches the garter and stockings. As Chuuya had felt earlier, there are absolutely no panties in sight, and she promptly gets Dazai into bed and spreads her thighs.

She's soaked, and Chuuya's mouth twitches with a vicious smile. "Good to see how much you enjoyed serving me," she purrs. "I think you should keep at it. Let's see...what shall you do for me..." She pretends to consider it for a moment before saying, "Ah! I know just the thing! I want you to keep eating me out until I'm satisfied, while you enjoy this." She goes to their toys and pulls out one of their slimmer vibrators. Dazai groans when she sees it. She loves and hates this particular toy, because it's got some of the best vibrations, but it never makes her feel as full as she craves.

Chuuya beams. "Hey, it could be worse. I could leave you completely empty, and we both know how much you 'enjoy' that. Oh, wait." She pulls out her favorite vibrator after a moment of consideration and adds, "I want to come a lot. You might need some help with that." She tosses both on the bed, alongside some lube, and then prowls to Dazai, looming over her. Dazai looks charmingly flushed, hair sticking to the back of her neck. It makes her look very human; the quiet light in her eyes more so.

It's a good look. Chuuya is stupidly set on making sure it's around until she dies. After all, though Dazai's happiness is a hard fought war, Chuuya's no stranger to a fight, and besides—Dazai's happiness is Chuuya's happiness, and Chuuya is selfish about her own happiness. Always has been, always will be.

Shaking off her reverie, she kisses Dazai once, long and sweet, and then again, deep and filthy, and the game is back on.

In revenge for Dazai's earlier attentions, she spends several moments leaving bruises on Dazai's ridiculously amazing breasts. They're full and soft and fit perfectly into Chuuya's hands, which is all the more reason for her to grab them. Only when Dazai's shuddering does Chuuya relent and spread Dazai's thighs again, slicking up the vibrator and sliding it inside her. She groans, and tightens around it. "Unfair," she breathes hazily.

"It's about to be," Chuuya agrees, and turns it on just high enough for Dazai to feel it without a hint of relief. "Suffice to say you're not allowed to come until I've had my fill. Better be good." She slaps Dazai's ass lightly and laughs when her back bows, clenching around the toy again and panting.

Pleased, Chuuya settles on her back, legs spread and a smug smile on her face. "Hurry up," she sing-songs in a poor imitation of Dazai's mocking voice. "My clit isn't going to rub itself."

"Your fingers could," Dazai mutters under her breath, but the eager way she settles between Chuuya's thigh belies her words. She fiddles with the vibrator before closing her thighs to makes sure that she'll be able to keep it inside her while she works. "Chuuya's wet too. Chuuya's enjoying this, using her partner so shamelessly."

"You're damn right I am," Chuuya laughs. "Having you serve me at my whim? You're lucky you're getting anything at all tonight. Just think about it. I could make you get me off until I can't fucking come anymore, with that toy in you the whole time, giving you almost enough of what you really crave, and then I could say that I'm done, and tell you you're not allowed to touch yourself without my permission." Dazai's composure looks decidedly ruffled at the thought, nipples taut from arousal. "I wonder how long you'd last before you forgot everything else and just begged, begged, begged me to let you come. Maybe at that point I'd just fuck you with our biggest cock until you came, without even a touch on your clit. How's that for using you shamelessly?"

Dazai hips keep twitching and Chuuya wants to know how wet she is right now, how much that idea appeals to her. Chuuya's never tried refusing to let her come for days, but she tucks that idea away for later. "Maybe next time," she says dismissively, and Dazai's hips jerk tellingly. "For now, I want to come."

It's like that was all Dazai was waiting for. Her mouth is on Chuuya in a heartbeat, once more pulling out every trick she knows to get Chuuya to come hard and fast. It works, too—Chuuya's clenching around her tongue in no time at all, feeling slick and dirty in all the best ways. Dazai works two fingers inside her as she keeps going, and Chuuya has to put her forearm over her eyes, gritting her teeth at how sensitive she is, but also how good she feels, while her other hand teases her nipples. Dazai's fingers curl against her g-spot and her tongue strokes Chuuya's clit like she's getting paid for it. Chuuya can't hold on, wouldn't want to, and snarls Dazai's name.

This time, though, she's too damn sensitive and pushes Dazai's mouth away so she can breath for just a moment. Dazai's eyes are dark and unfocused as she keeps thrusting her fingers lazily, cheek pillowed on Chuuya's inner thigh. "Chuuya," she whines, hips twitching. "Please..."

"I'm not satisfied yet," Chuuya reminds, just the right edge of sharp to make Dazai quiver. "I want to come again. Get the vibrator, baby girl, and fuck me."

Dazai doesn't just quiver this time; her whole body vibrates like a plucked string, eyes huge and black and hungry. "Yes, mistress."

Chuuya misses Dazai's fingers when they're pulled out, but Dazai's back in a second with the vibrator and slides three fingers in this time, turning the vibrator up several setting before pressing it against Chuuya's clit. Chuuya yelps. She's so much more sensitive than she expected, but also so much fucking closer. Dazai, obedient and perfect, mouth softly kissing Chuuya's thighs, dark hair spilling across both their bodies, moving the vibrator in little circular movements just like Chuuya adores—she bites her lip. It's so good, so sweet, it's almost too much to bear. She'd rather die than push Dazai away though, especially when Dazai's lashes brush her skin, and she looks like a woman in prayer.

It's so ridiculous that Chuuya could cry.

Since that would be unbearable, she comes instead with a desperate noise, but never fully drops away from the edge, toes curling and head thrown back and mind perfectly, beautifully blank as she comes again almost immediately, riding out the pleasure until she's pushing the vibrator away gasping, "Enough, enough, enough, fuck, baby girl." She sags against the sheets, trying to catch her breath, but Dazai's hungry mouth comes back, licking at her softly just to taste her. The aftershocks roll through Chuuya almost as sharply as an actual orgasm and she throws her arm over her face again, breathing heavily.

The pleasure—fuck. Fuck—she—it's—she's completely and totally relaxed, and she luxuriates for a long moment in being spoiled rotten, in Dazai being the one to spoil her for no other reason than Chuuya commanded it to be so. She could get horribly used to that kind of power.

For now, though, she will be magnanimous and return the favor.

Dazai looks wrecked. She hasn't touched herself, but she can't stop shifting impatiently, and the second she realizes Chuuya's aware again, she whimpers. She's desperate enough that it's real, too, and she nuzzles Chuuya's inner thigh, hot breath making Chuuya's skin spark with aftershocks. "Please, Chuuya," she rasps. "I'm—I'm so close, please, mistress."

"Of course I'll take care of you, baby girl," Chuuya soothes instantly. "Come here, into my lap, legs spread." She makes sure that Dazai is arranged with her thighs outside of Chuuya's, and Chuuya blatantly uses the position to force Dazai's thighs even wider. She catches the vibrator before it slips out, though, and presses it nice and deep inside Dazai. She gasps, head falling back against Chuuya's shoulder, back arched, hips rolling. "I know it's not quite as big as you like, you fucking size queen, but I bet this will more than make up for it." She maxes out the vibrator, fucking Dazai with it, and presses two fingers into Dazai's mouth to choke on.

Dazai moans like she's losing her mind, drooling as she meets every one of Chuuya's thrusts. She's scrabbling to hold onto Chuuya in a matter of moments, chest heaving as she fights for breath, so wet she's dripping onto Chuuya's hand, slick down her inner thighs. It's everything Chuuya could have wanted and more. Dazai starts begging wordlessly, eyes unfocused, but it's not until Dazai's all but crying that Chuuya presses the vibrator in deep again, keeping it there with the palm of her hand so she can rub at Dazai's clit with her thumb.

Thrashing, Dazai comes, and comes again when Chuuya pulls her fingers free and lets her breathe. She collapses back against Chuuya, whimpering weakly and pawing at Chuuya until Chuuya pulls out the vibrator and lets her shiver through the fading pleasure. Satisfied, Chuuya brushes Dazai's hair out of her face and kisses her slowly, easing them both down into a tangled heap on the bed.

"Good girl," Chuuya whispers, thumb brushing Dazai's nipple. She shivers, blinking a few times, and then leans in to brush her mouth against Chuuya's, earning herself another, even deeper, "Sweet baby girl."

She's still drunk on pleasure, though, and nuzzles Chuuya. It takes a few moments for her brain to engage enough to ask, "So I made the right decision, mistress?" It's spoken teasingly, but Dazai permits Chuuya to see that it's a genuine question.

Chuuya thinks of paperwork, of meetings, of blood on her hands. She thinks about sleeping that night, about the way Dazai's curled up against her, and the way she'd murmured 'mistress' in the perfect blend of smug and sweet. It's enough to make Chuuya lean in again to kiss her, because she doesn't quite trust her voice yet.

When she pulls away, Dazai's eyes are still closed. Chuuya takes the moment to run a fingertip across Dazai's collarbones and down her breasts, an idle, comforting touch. "Yes," she says finally. "You did. Thank you."

Dazai smiles.