word count.: 0.9k words in total (usually i would have posted this on my sideblog since it’s so short, but oh well)
۶ৎ note.: why is so hard finding pictures of chuuya where he doesn’t look like he wants to strangle someone, and WHY are there no good pictures of my other ginger baby??? sigh anyway, thought this would be funny since i noticed my mum having a tissue tucked underneath her bra strap, and i used to do that a lot at school too with tampons or cheat sheets lmao
chuuya.:
he’s got you pressed up against the cold wall, hands already fumbling with your clothes as he kisses you.
his tongue delves into your mouth and you let out such a pretty moan against his lips as his knee presses between your thighs, moving it higher.
“keep your voice down, darlin’, unless you want the whole restaurant to hear us,” chuuya mumbles, his fingers tracing up your spine.
his hand slips into your dress and he squeezes one of your tits, too lazy to unclip your bra or bother taking anything off. at some point, though, he pauses, his fingers brushing against something hard and smooth.
“…the fuck?” he whispers, pulling out a tube of lipgloss, the glittery sparkle catching in the dim light.
chuuya just stares at you for a moment, slightly confused, before snorting so hard he actually has to lean against you for balance.
“what were you planning with that, sweetheart? touch-ups mid-makeout?” he asks, his laugh softening into a low chuckle.
your eyes dart to the lipgloss in his hand, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “uh, not exactly… i kinda forgot that was in there,” you admit, chuckling along with him.
“don’t you feel that inside there?” chuuya asks, and you shake your head. “you notice it the first five minutes, but after that you don’t really feel anything anymore.”
“hm. interesting.”
“well, what am i supposed to do when you refuse to let me bring a purse, insisting that you’ll take care of everything?”
“just let me carry your stuff. honestly though, you don’t even need any kind of lipstick when i’m just going to smudge it with kisses anyway,” he mumbles, pressing his lips against yours once more, teeth grazing your bottom lip.
he tucks the lipstick into his dress pants, planning to hold onto it for you later.
when he’s done with you, you might want to reapply it anyway—just to not arouse any suspicion when you both walk out of the restaurant’s bathroom.
dazai.:
dazai is utterly touchy. it doesn’t matter if you’re both in an important meeting of the agency or simply curled up together at home—his hands are on you, always and everywhere.
tonight is no different. you’re watching a movie in his dorm, the two of you tangled together on his couch, feeling warm and cozy.
his head rests on your stomach, lips brushing against your shirt occasionally as his hands sneak their way under the fabric, fingers lazily kneading into your lower back.
it’s soothing, almost lulling, so you don’t even notice when his hand drifts higher, slipping beneath your bra, until his motions suddenly freeze and he pulls out something small and cylindrical.
“…a tampon?” dazai blinks once, then grins, his expression smug. “don’t tell me you’re worried you’ll bleed all over me, bella.”
your face flushes and you snatch it back instantly, glaring at him. “well, excuse me, but my period isn’t exactly regular, and it loves to surprise me. i doubt you’d want me bleeding all over your couch or anywhere to be honest.”
but he only chuckles, leaning his chin onto your stomach as if this is the most entertaining thing in the world. “ahh, i don’t mind a bit of blood.”
“osamu, it’s not just a little. sometimes it’s a whole bloody ocean down there,” you say and he can’t tell if your being serious or joking.
“mhm, well either way, i don’t care. but wouldn’t it be better if you stored my hands in there instead?” his voice drops, low and velvety as his thumb drags teasingly over the curve of your breast.
you roll your eyes and shove his hand away, though your blush betrays you. dazai just pouts, then shifts upward, pressing his face into your chest with a dramatic sigh.
“you’re so cruel, bella~” he whines against you, his voice muffled by your shirt.
tachihara.:
you’re tangled up with tachihara on the bed, your lips moving desperately against his as his hands slip under your shirt. he’s not usually this bold, but tonight he’s just a little too eager and maybe a bit impatient .
his palm slides up your side, squeezing your breast through your bra, until his fingers catch on something that definitely doesn’t belong.
he pauses, brows furrowing as he reaches in and pulls out a bedazzled lighter. he stares at it for a second, dumbfounded. “…are you serious?”
you freeze, not sure what to say. “…oh, forgot about that.”
“you–” he starts, then breaks into a laugh, dragging a hand down his face. “you’ve been carrying a lighter in there? what the hell.”
“well, it’s for when hirotsu and i take a smoke break,” you explain, taking the lighter out of his hand and placing it on the nightstand next to the bed.
“and why is it bedazzled?”
“i got very bored once and thought it’d look prettier this way. gin likes it,” you say, only mentioning that gin likes it to try to justify the fact that you glued so many strass stones on your lighter.
he shakes his head, still laughing but regaining his composure rather quickly. “and here i thought i’d find lingerie or something hot underneath your shirt, but nope—just a damn lighter.
“well, technically a lighter can be hot,” you say, as tachihara leans in again, smirking slightly despite how awful your joke was.
“mhm, you know what else is hot? you. naked. on the bed. right now,” he whispers teasingly against your ear, pressing a quick peck to your neck as you laugh and take off your shirt.
“you’re so impatient tonight,” you mumble, but he only hums against your skin, already trailing kisses down your collarbone.
