Word count: 10649
Warnings: NSFW
This is oc content right here u guys it's a banger I promise
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Tsubaki writes. She knows she's filling out some sort of report, but it's not as though many circumstances have changed. A man walks and she stops his heart and then he dies. And that's what she scribbled down repeatedly on some parchment paper. She liked the way her mechanical pencil sounded, it was the only thing keeping her from falling asleep, she's sure of it. If she writes out her words in a certain speed and rhythm, the feedback sounds like a song. The only things that truly changed about the reports were the names of the victims, their descriptions, and their time of death. She wished Mori would just accept the list of names of people she had taken out for him that day. There were so many. It wasn't as though he needed the times of death for them. The names and descriptions, perhaps. But he had asked her to kill them while sitting right beside her. He knew who was dead and who wasn't, unless she had somehow underestimated him and Mori Ougai was simply an idiot who was good at acting. That can't be true; Yokohama would be in shambles.
Tsubaki continues to listen to the soothing feedback of her pencil on paper. She attempts to recall the last time she went to sleep. The thought seemed incredibly random and she realize it was because she was slowly losing consciousness. She guessed she had the answer to her question as her pencil fell from her hand and her head slumped forward on the desk, uncomfortably. Oh, her neck would ache after this, for sure. Passing out always left Tsubaki with her thoughts. Passing out alone told her she hadn't slept for well over fourty eight hours. She supposed that was her own fault. She only went home a couple times, showering and eating and then returning to her office. Tsubaki, within a moment, wakes up. She hates passing out because it wavers her concept of time. For her it may be for a moment, but for others it may be minutes. Hours. A coma, even, if worse came to worse. She assumed it must have been one or two hours, seeing as she wasn't where she originally passed out at.
Tsubaki felt that her body was in a different position when she awoke, and she was sitting on a slightly larger and more velvety surface. Opening her eyes, the ceiling was on the ground and the ground was on the ceiling. The room was lit from a light behind the chair she was laid down on, the large window wall showing nothing but a pitch black sky illuminated by city lights and stars. Her neck was craned over the armrest of the fancy chair, uncomfortably. It was incredibly sore, and it annoyed her a bit. Her arm was positioned so that it was hanging off the side of the chair, and her hand touched the cold floor. That arm had fallen asleep; a feeling she could deal with but could do without. Her other arm had been lifted up, the back of her hand against the top of the chair, bent at the wrist. From being bent for so long, she knew her wrist would be sore as well. Tsubaki slowly lifted her head, in turn her neck hurt like a bitch and she felt a bit dizzy for a moment. One leg was over the armrest on the other side of the chair. Not too bad, her leg was hardly asleep, tingling only a bit. However, her other leg was resting on it, and was much more asleep than the other one. She felt much more uncomfortable than she did when she'd fallen asleep, and she felt this must be intentional, and she knows the culprit behind it.
Oh, and then lastly, of course, not connected to her body and not a description of her annoyance with how she was placed, but the man who placed her there in the first place. Two arms, distinguishable by the black coat sleeves covering them and white gloves obscuring the hands, crossed over one another on the top of the chair, a familiar hovering figure with a smug grin on his face leaning over it. Perhaps if Tsubaki's eyes were open, she'd be glaring at him, and it wouldn't bother him a bit.
"I suppose you find this amusing." Tsubaki states, not in her normal tone, which always seemed so joyous no matter the topic, but instead a tone reserved for specific people; one being the man hovering over her. A tone that would reassure those who heard it that Tsubaki was, at least, partially human, capable of expressing another emotion with her voice. Whatever tone this phrase took place in, it wasn't all too mad, which might be more terrifying than when she sounds happy all the time, and so he paid no mind to it. Tsubaki moves to sit up, despite the pains and sores in her body. She sighs, sitting with her back to the back of her chair.
Mori simply chuckled and moved his right arm off of his left, leaving his left to rest on top of the chair still. He takes a moment to revel in the echo of a voice Tsubaki set aside just for him. Perhaps one or two other people, but he finds the thought more enjoyable when he imagines it's just for him. His office is large, and not at all safe from echoes. Even someone such as himself might say random words louder than he needs to while he works, out of nowhere, to enjoy the echo and entertain himself, in the same way Tsubaki entertained herself with the feedback of her pencil while she wrote. Mori knew of this habit; he all but stalked her, really. Studied her habits, her movements, her. Perhaps it was the fascination of learning something new about a subject he lacked information on. Yes, this is why he studied her soft hands, her black as night hair, her fair skin— for education, and nothing else.
"That didn't seem like a comfortable position to wake up to, Tsubaki." Mori stated the obvious in a teasing tone of voice. Despite the fact that if a normal subordinate heard it, he'd think nothing strange of the tone, this tone was reserved for Tsubaki and Tsubaki alone. Perhaps he had used a teasing tone to sarcastically point out failures in his subordinates or to present information to his hesitant executives. But this, the quiet adoration hidden in his teasing tone, the way a guqin would hide in a song, was present in a way he would never use for another being on this planet, or even off of it. As if to emphasise a result of her uncomfortable position, his right hand innocently rests on her neck.
"I can't imagine why." Tsubaki opens her eyes, which was, again, a sight reserved only for Mori. Except, he didn't have to pretend there wasn't a boy covered in bandages that got to see the same thing from his mother figure. He's sure he would, in time, but for now he revelled in the fact that two different eyes belonging to one equally gorgeous woman would only truly ever be seen by him. And she glared. Mori must have only been motivated by her glare, since he ended up only moving closer, letting his left arm fall down the top of the chair, to Tsubaki's waist, his hand resting there. There were a few seconds of tension where Mori opted to carefully run his thumb up and down her neck while keeping the rest of his hand still. She could tell by his grip on her waist that he yearned to pull her out of the chair and do whatever he pleased with her. His fingers were slightly pointed upward, rather than straight, which is what they would be if his only intent was to hold her. And how funny it is that he tries to create the excuse of emphasising her sore spots when her waist wasn't one of them.
"Forgive me, you must be incredibly sore. Perhaps a massage would do you some good." Mori's smile hasn't left his face and Tsubaki doubted it would, for the remainder of her time here. Revealing his true motive behind why he twisted and turned her body into the most uncomfortable position he could possibly achieve, Tsubaki chuckled and waved off his hand from her neck, standing up. Mori takes a small step back, and she can see his left hand twitch. One more moment, he must be thinking, and he would've been able to pull her from the chair and into his arms. One more moment, just one more moment- but Tsubaki knew that and she stood up right before he might've been able to satisfy this urge he was dismissing as a purely educational one. Oh, and he has most definitely had educational — "urges" before. He wondered, and he explored, and then he knew. But with Tsubaki, there was much more to it. He didn't yearn for an experience he'd like to end up studying and analyzing; he yearned for a woman. Tsubaki, specifically. He would have her in any way he could.
Mori doesn't miss, however, the very short second where Tsubaki's legs naturally wobble. It's just a second, unnoticeable really, since the blood is levelling itself back out across her body. Tsubaki doesn't wobble. She doesn't tremble, shake, or anything but stand firmly where she was. Even when she was shot through her heart, (and she had been, and survived via the companion that had previously been in her head), even when impaled by multiple spears— Tsubaki has withstood much more than her legs falling asleep. Mori deduced it was because of one of two things; A, she was used to such pain and it didn't waiver her, but the needles and tingles of blood rearranging itself in her legs was unfamiliar and caught her a tad bit off guard, or B. He liked option B a lot more; She did it on purpose because she knew he would notice. Not only notice, but yearn for more. He did admit that before this conclusion, he did wish to see her struggle to stand, but not from her legs falling asleep.
Tsubaki tilts her neck to crack it in a way that sounds painful. "You might've pulled this off with the way I fell asleep in my office. I much prefer it." She stated simply. Tsubaki notices Mori waits a bit to speak, until the very last echo of her voice is gone. What a helpless man, she thinks. No, she knows. "This" might have been referring to his plan he had originally carrying her here, and he deduced that she had pulled away from him at the last second to tease him, and she had wobbled her legs just a bit to enhance an image in his mind he already had but not thought possible, although was willing to try to make it so. Tsubaki must've known from the second she woke up in such a position.
"Well, that wouldn't be any fun, would it?" But in the same way that Tsubaki is quite easily able to outsmart him, he was able to catch her off guard here and there too. They thought alike, so he had a few tricks up his sleeve. "It's dark out, you know." He chuckles and removes his coat. It's not as though he'll be needing it, and even if he doesn't reach his end goal he's sure he'd take it off anyway. It would just get in the way; not to mention it seemed to be getting too warm for the amount of layers he was wearing, his scarf being discarded too, but nothing else. He did wish Tsubaki might wear layers like this so he could watch her take them off for whatever reason; even just sliding a coat off her shoulders would suffice. It would be elegant, no doubt; anything she did was. And he'd enjoy it far more than she enjoyed watching him take his coat off. And that was saying a lot, considering she thought and expressed vocally how it was ugly. But then, she thought a lot of his clothes were, and it would just be rude to remove them all because of that fact. "I thought you'd be at home." With the thoughts rushing around his head, he had forgotten to continue his words.
"Did you?" Tsubaki raised an eyebrow and her left hand, the one that had been hanging off the chair, held her right wrist, rubbing it slightly. It reminded her of when she rested her head in her hand for too long when she wrote and her wrist ended up feeling like jelly. Mori was getting antsy, it seemed, because she was getting rid of any ridiculous reason he had to touch her. She'd cracked her neck, to the point it didn't bother her so much anymore. Her legs had gained blood back, and she was helping her wrist return to normal. His smile falters for a moment, but he's not so much frowning. He doesn't, however, cease to look distressed in a way. Tsubaki smiled, but it wasn't a smile anyone had seen before. Not even Mori, until now, a smile that made him feel powerless, because it shows that Tsubaki knew she was ruining his plan and watching the desperation in his eyes amused her. He supposed it was only fair, as he had, amused, watched his plan take place when she'd woken up.
"No." He shrugs loosely and looks to the side, arms behind his back as normal. Mori wasn't sure why he looked to the side. To escape her gaze, most likely. He wanted so badly to make her feel the way that she made him feel, but he knew his first line of action would have to be wavering the overwhelming (and attractive) confidence she had at the current moment. He doesn't bother to lie with his answer; he knew she'd be here. "You know, perhaps if you don't want to wake up like a pretzel, you should develop a regular sleep schedule. Passing out makes you vulnerable; but I know that when you sleep, you're still alert. And I'm sure you'd be even less vulnerable if you slept in your house." He chuckled. "As a matter of fact—"
"You can only say so many words to stall for time before it becomes too obvious, Ougai." Tsubaki hasn't ever and continues to not put up with his antics. "You're taking your sweet time, aren't you? And here I thought a man like you might be more confident in his plans. Goodness, I was gravely mistaken." She laughs softly, and it's mocking in a way that makes Mori's face feel hot. Hot in a way it hadn't before. Not in irritation or anger, but in— something else. He quickly turns back to her with a defensive glare. She has long since turned her back to him, beginning her walk towards the door. Normally he liked the sound of her heels against the floor because it meant she would be coming near, not farther away. "Perhaps I'll follow your advice," She hums. Tsubaki says silent goodbyes to the velvet chair she woke up in, not too far away from a matching velvet couch she was currently walking by and the antique tea table where drinks most likely might be for a time other than now. Mori's eye twitched and he moved without thinking. It was the smart thing to do, because Tsubaki truly only predicted calculated and logical movements he'd make; not expecting him to simply give up so he can have what he wants. "I'll return home and—"
Tsubaki was a very on guard woman, save for when she was passed out. Tsubaki could hear someone enter the port mafia building all the way from the roof. Tsubaki could hear footsteps around the apartment complex doors while she slept, listening for any signs that someone might have the gall to try to harm her. Tsubaki had run a powerful organization that controlled an entire city, without ever being caught. So why, she wonders, and how, was she so suddenly thrown off balance and pulled back— pulled isn't a good word, more so yanked. Yanked in the way a spoiled child might take candy from another child. Yanked in the way people would fight over the last of a high demand item in a store. Yanked in a way that means someone wants, someone craves, and someone intends to get. She hadn't expected an irrational move, but knows it was calculated, because her back was against the couch. That wasn't an accident. A quiet gasp left her lips, because she hadn't expected this turn of events.
Mori doesn't give her time to think about what happened. He knows if he does, he'll ruin this opportunity. He'd love to stand and appreciate how pretty the little gasp of air that left her equally pretty lips sounded, but he can do so later, and he's sure it'll be with more glorious noises. Perhaps even his name. How funny that would be, if a woman as quiet and reserved as Tsubaki would be so loud. He wouldn't mind if she was or wasn't. But enough dwelling on that. The way Mori had approached the situation was to stand in front of the couch, behind her, when she had walked away. He may be known for his intelligence, but he wasn't exactly physically weak either. One harsh yank would send her back to the couch. He had yanked and moved out of the way quick enough for her to end up hitting her legs on the armrest of the couch and falling back. He wondered if she even realized all the details of the situation. Mori stood now, not in front of the arm rests, but the couch itself.
Tsubaki, with the time she had, instead of laying flat on her back was instead leaning on her side, propping herself up on her arm, facing him. "Rather rude, don't you think..?" But Tsubaki realizes that their tension-filled little remarks that beat around the bush wouldn't be continued in friendly banter when she saw the way she was being looked at. Tsubaki's eyes widened and for the first time she seemed surprised, because she had never been looked at like that before. Looked at in a way that she was sure that now, seeing his eyes, only Mori Ougai could achieve. He wanted, but not in the same way another person would want. He craved, and for some reason his look seemed almost starved, as though he'd waited eons upon eons, lifetime upon lifetime, to just lay his eyes on Tsubaki. Mori had told himself he wouldn't give her a second to even breathe because he wanted to catch her off guard, but it seemed that his look alone had managed to achieve that. Neither built off of what Tsubaki said, knowing no answer or continuation was needed. Tsubaki saw no need to hide her nervousness in the same way Mori always did; with meaningless words. She could at least know she was a bit better than him at that; honest with the fact that Mori made her feel— something. What that something was, neither were really sure. They simply accepted it.
"You've got some nerve talking to me like that, Tsubaki." Mori simply chuckled, in a way that would be weird to anyone else but terrifying to Tsubaki. The tables had turned, which she hadn't expected even if he ended up fulfilling his plan and getting Tsubaki to do whatever he pleased (in that situation, the original, she would still have full control over him). "Did you forget I'm your boss?" He kneels down in front of the couch so he's eye level with her. "You do what I say." He harshly grabs her chin, and her mouth opens just slightly. Damn, he thinks, I just missed a gasp. Any noise was sweet when it came from Tsubaki. There would be another day, sometime soon he was sure, when Tsubaki would have full control over the situation and the plan he had would be carried out. Today was rare, a day he got to melt the strongest and most terrifying woman in the city— quite possibly the world— to mush. Regardless, the gasp he just missed meant that Tsubaki had purposely kept it from him. He thumbs her bottom lip. He wishes deeply to kiss her, but feels like he must have more fun with this first. "It's rude to ignore your boss when you're being directly addressed, don't you think, Tsubaki?" He chuckled.
Tsubaki glared at him, opening her mouth even just a bit more to speak. But Mori already got what he wanted and instead pressed his thumb in her mouth, against her tongue. Tsubaki's glare faltered only for a moment, until a new one appeared with the promise to repay the favor at a later date. No matter how Tsubaki was melted down, she would freeze right back into a solid. It was in her nature. Mori, however, was a self frozen solid waiting to be melted back down again. It was in his nature. Tsubaki would make sure she would make him work for it the next time they found themselves alone, in the middle of the night. Tsubaki's eyes are pulled elsewhere when he rests his hand on her side and slides it down her waist, slowly. He seems to have a unique fondness for her waist, she noticed. She knew he was planning on doing something with that hand, because he pulled her attention back to in front of her. He moved his thumb out of her mouth, but still had it held between her lips. "Bite down." It's an order, and Tsubaki wished to God she had the concentration to do so, and see what he had in store for his other hand at the same time. She does so, taking the small end bit of fabric between her teeth. He pulls his hand away, so that his glove comes off, and smiles. "Thank you~" He purrs and takes his glove from between her teeth and tosses it elsewhere.
There's a moment again, the same one from before. Tension is high and any moment is when Mori might decide to strike. However this time Tsubaki doesn't have any intention of pulling away at the last second to dangle what he could never have in front of him. The gloveless hand was secretly tugging at the bow around her collar. Tsubaki's eyes flickered to that hand for a second, and suddenly her left arm reached over to try to stop his hand as fast as she could. Mori was faster, and grabbed her wrist before she could, pinning it back to her side, leaning over her fully now, and pressing his lips against hers while she did it. A moment of silent tension, full of quick movement that led to what Mori had wanted and was finally getting. Tsubaki doesn't fight back, but seems to want to fight for control. How entertaining, he thinks. He shifts so he doesn't have to stand and lean, but rather opts to sit between her legs so he can kiss her in a comfortable position that'll give easy space for his later plans.
Mori acknowledges that she hadn't spoken for a while. She must sound pathetic, because he was sure she wasn't speaking on purpose. From that first escaped gasp began her spiralling downfall. If Tsubaki spoke now, she knows Mori would only gain a sense of victory from it. Would her voice waiver and quiver like he dreams of? Is she loud or is she quiet, when she speaks in a flustered and confused manner— confused as in she's not sure how she ended up beneath him and not the other way around. Does she know whatever she says can and will be held against her? Does she know he craves her voice and strives to deny his hearing of it as a consequence of reducing her to mush? Perhaps in a situation where things were different, and things had gone as planned earlier, her dangling her voice over his head wouldn't be unreasonable. The most common. But in this situation, where Mori would tease her and hold whatever he pleased above her head to use as he saw fit, he knew that she was embarrassed. Flustered. That was fine. She couldn't stay silent forever.
The kissing lasted who knows how long. Not too long, because Mori was hungry and wanted more. He opted to move his hand that pinned her arm down in favor of passionately cupping her cheek, leaning forward more and sliding his tongue into her mouth. He did notice, as time went on, Tsubaki's mouth seemed to have opened more. In this situation, he might assume it's because she wanted him to make out with her, but something was telling him that wasn't the case. Not that she didn't want that, of course, but that it wasn't why her mouth was open the way it was. His other hand, which had successfully undone the bow but stayed resting between her chest and collar bone could feel rapid changes in her breathing patterns. He noticed the lack of fight she had at the moment, compared to when they were kissing regularly. One might think she would fight more now that their tongues were intertwined, but no. She still seemed to be trying, however. With her breathing patterns, the change in her mouth, and the change in her energy, Mori quickly deduced something that he wondered how he missed before this.
Tsubaki wasn't breathing through her nose. Rather, she couldn't. For one reason or another, he realized now that she had never breathed through her nose before. Never heard a sigh that hadn't left her mouth, never heard a sharp inhale that didn't enter her mouth rather than her nose. And he realized now that her mouth was always open, even just the smallest bit, for air. Tsubaki couldn't breathe through her nose. He assumed it must be a result of an injury he wasn't sure he wanted to treat. If his assumption was correct, he was intruding on her only other air way, stealing every last bit of air from her before he could catch it. At some point, Tsubaki realized what he was doing; purposely suffocating her. She has no energy to fight his tongue with her own, which never successfully entered his mouth in retaliation, and no energy to quiet herself. Her hands needed something to do, and coupled with the situation, she was desperate for air, air that she was also hoping he'd steal away. She was enjoying this as much as he was. Her bored hands grab his sleeve and his vest, weakly clinging onto him. Mori knew he must have a bit before he'd truly need to pull away. He playfully pushes her tongue around with his own as he kisses her, taunting her with the fact she had no control over the situation anymore.
When he feels her grip loosen on his clothes, he opens his eyes slightly. Tsubaki seemed like she might pass out at any minute. God, was this a sight to behold. Mori pulled away from the kiss and despite needing some air, kept completely quiet so he could hear Tsubaki's frantic gasps for air echo throughout the office. One of Tsubaki's arms falls back from clinging to him in a manner that was somehow both offensive and defensive, and weakly wipes her mouth. She coughs here and there once, mostly gasping and panting. Even whimpering, perhaps. Mori had simply closed his eyes, listening to it. It was an amazing onslaught of sounds that no one would hear, ever. With her human tone of voice, he shared with Dazai. With her uniquely colored eyes, he knew he would eventually have to share with Dazai, too. Only natural for a mother and her son. But- but this? The sweet music that he never even knew Tsubaki had the capability of composing? He's going to lock these sounds, these echoes, into his mind forever. When she's not around, he knows he'll think of them. When, inevitably, one day Tsubaki will have him begging for her, he'll cling to the fragile idea that he bested her once and she was weak once, and that means something in comparison to the many times in the future that he knows she'll have him on his knees.
"I learn something.." he speaks slowly, because he is also catching his breath. ".. new about you everyday." He purrs softly, condescendingly. Teasingly. Selfishly. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you, dear~?" He forgoes the use of her emphasized name. He knew whenever they used each other's names, they were substituting for something. Neither of them knew the specific word they were replacing with their names, but they knew that they had a mutual understanding it was something of an intimate nature. Dear, darling — thinking on it, he's sure Tsubaki's replaced the word darling with his name when speaking to him multiple times, while he uses dear. Yes, she definitely seems like a "darling" woman. He keeps it in the back of his mind, not wanting to be distracted by thoughts of what she might call him when she'll have him panting for air. Right now, this was his moment.
"Y.." Mori's eyes widened slightly in elation when Tsubaki began her very frail attempt to speak. Yes, this is perfect. He wished to hear every bit of her voice now, after he'd stolen all the air out of her lungs and the energy out of her heart. He wishes to hear a voice Tsubaki herself never thought she'd speak in. He's sure he'd hear it only once or twice in his lifetime, so focused all in on it. "..you're.. much less... observant... than I.. thought, then..." Mori hardly cares for the sarcastic little insult she's dealt him in return for his teasing. Tsubaki sounded ruined. It sent shivers down his spine. Her voice was low, a tone he had admirably watched her threaten people with. Her low tone of voice was soft, and her voice shook with what energy she had left. And each gasp between breaks in her sentence only added to how ruined she sounded, each word ending and starting breathily.
"Maybe so.." He admires her messy black hair, pushing some strands out of her face. He runs his hand down her hair, and gently moves her hair over her left shoulder as opposed to her right, where it always was. He runs his fingers down it, and undoes the loose braid she always wore. He gently brushed her hair back and it fell behind her. It made her look even more ruined and pathetic than she already was. "I'll give your pretty little lips a break." He waved his hand dismissively with a little smile, and then sits up. He helps her to lean up against the arm rest. She couldn't do it all by herself, the poor thing~ "I'm sure other parts of your body would love some attention." Mori chuckled.
Mori's hand slid up her leg and beneath her skirt, to her thigh and no further. Never in a million years did he ever think he'd get his hand on Tsubaki's thigh without a scythe to the face. Her skin was soft. He holds her thigh with the one hand with no glove, and his eyes drift to Tsubaki's lips. "Remove my glove for me, won't you?" He smiled and set the tip of his middle finger between her teeth. Tsubaki weakly bites down, and Mori pulls his hand from his glove yet again. He decided not to brag and not to tease Tsubaki for the fact he had managed to make her the way she often made him. If he did, he was more or less challenging her, and she always faced a challenge. She would most likely turn the tables, which he wouldn't exactly mind, but wanted to do so another time and not now. He wants all the time in the world to experience the woman he was afraid might kill either him or herself at any moment in time, for any reason. As for Tsubaki, she noticed that Mori had gotten distracted by the softness of her leg and opted to simply caress and feel it for a while. She took advantage of this opportunity to gain back her breath and strength, despite the fact that his touch was still causing her some kind of feeling.
Tsubaki wasn't too surprised with herself. She knew that she and Mori felt something for each other, though neither of them would call it love, because love was a rather weak emotion exchanged between humans, and they had both come to terms with that fact that they weren't. And whatever it was that they left, they knew it wasn't love. At the same time, they knew it wasn't lust. For something such as this to happen between two people like themselves, it was something much stronger. Love could be contributed, but also respect and admiration. Perhaps I'm some way, they glorified each other subconsciously. Mori was the most obvious about his feelings towards her, which were too strong and sophisticated to be called love. Tsubaki knew that the fact he was the most obvious is why this situation is surprising and rare. The both of them had a silent agreement that commonly, Tsubaki would have more power over him simply because that's how it is and that's the kind of people they are; a solid and a liquid. It just happened that right now, the solid and melted and the liquid had frozen, temporarily switching places. However, Tsubaki knew he wouldn't be able to tease and taunt her for the state she was in right now, because it would give her leeway to turn the tables, and Mori didn't want that. No matter the circumstances, she always had some kind of advantage over him.
Tsubaki must admit, though, that she was quite enjoying this. The complete thrill of being in someone else's control. Not just someone else- but Mori, out of all people. She knew the exact moment when he realized she could only breathe through her mouth. The small pause and change in intensity right after gave it away. Had Tsubaki any energy left she would've tried to keep quiet as best she could, because the more noise she made, the more power ran to Mori's head. Not that she minded, but him getting too cocky might change the situation entirely. Tsubaki's only true, real issue with the situation is how much he was watching her. Cute and tease worthy was how he couldn't take his eyes off of her, but at the same time it was making her feel small in a way she wasn't familiar with. Though at least when she was being looked at she didn't feel like an object. No, when Mori looked at her regularly, she felt like a goddess, and when he looked at her right now, in the state she was in, she only felt small. Not in a bad way, just— in a way she wasn't used to, and in a way she didn't particularly want to get used to. If she did, then the feeling wouldn't be very special, would it?
Mori felt her skin fascinatingly, and delicately, as though it were something of a detailed glass sculpture that would break at any minute if he touched too roughly, but something inside him wanted to break it nonetheless. Tsubaki never thought that a man would make her feel the way she did. She glanced helplessly at her bow that Kay beside her on the couch, undone and tossed aside. She didn't know why he had undone it, or why she had acted to stop him from taking it off so quickly. It didn't change or affect anything. Perhaps, in a tension filled moment, she simply urged to do something. Perhaps Mori had decided simply touching with his hand wasn't enough, as he placed a kiss on her thigh, still holding it. Tsubaki wasn't particularly sensitive on her thigh, but something about the action made her heart skip a beat and her breathing ceased for a moment. He must've noticed the response, she observed, because he did it again. Over and over. She might compare him to a fox of some sort, that had once eaten plants and tired of it and so moved onto bunnies, but tired of that so quickly as well. Mori would never really be satisfied, and Tsubaki knew this. So, she wasn't all too surprised when one of his kisses, he ended up pausing and didn't pull away from her thigh, but opted to instead suck on her skin. Tsubaki supposed she was surprised simply because she never expected any of this to happen to her, not because she didn't expect him to do it at this moment.
Tsubaki has her energy back and bites her lip. She supposed she should be beyond grateful that these marks, and she predicted there'd be multiple, would be hidden from the eyes of those who would judge. She often wore long skirts after all, or pants. Some part of her wondered if the marks would ever be seen and she'd have to explain them. It was embarrassing and humiliating in a way she wasn't fond of; in a way that Mori might be fond of, perhaps, however. Oh well, she supposed time would tell if she'd ever be questioned about what happened here tonight, however she highly doubts it. "J.. Jesus Christ.." Tsubaki murmured under her breath when Mori pulled away from her leg. She didn't know how long he'd been sucking the bruise on her thigh, but it was either for a very long time, or very roughly for a short amount of time, because that bruise was dark. "You've no self restraint, do you?" It's not judgmental, it's simply an observation. Tsubaki wants to say something at the moment; it's been quiet for too long.
"Not when it comes to you, I don't." Mori chuckled. "As a matter of fact, I think I'm quite rational and reasonable, until you're in my line of sight. I would kill thousands for you, Tsubaki." He means to say he'd do whatever she asked of him, but in hindsight of their shared occupation, murder might be the most extreme. Tsubaki merely smiled, because it wasn't extreme, and Mori had killed many before. She lifts her arms behind her head to pull her hair back as though about to put it in a ponytail, but she doesn't, and just rests her hands and head on the arm rest. Tsubaki is dating, even in moments such as these. And besides, she knows the answer to her soon to be asked question. He was simply too much of a wuss to say it without being provoked.
"Would you ruin the city for me?"
Yokohama had a great deal of importance to the both of them. Tsubaki had spent every day of her life from age twenty one to age thirty four protecting this city. She ran it for thirteen years, manipulating lives so that Yokohama would have a future. The stability and existence of the city was so much more important than many people realized, and Mori himself had taken on a dangerous endeavour to assassinate the previous Port Mafia boss for the good of the city, and had succeeded and restored Yokohama to its former glory. Almost anything either of them did tended to be for the good of Yokohama, for its future, for its economy, and for its people. Mori's eyes flicker to her for a moment and he hesitates with his answer, almost like he's being tested. Tsubaki just laughs softly, and Mori huffs because he realized she was fucking with him, and he was reading too much into it. "Tsubaki," Tsubaki looks to him. "I would ruin the world if you asked me to."
Tsubaki smiled and looked to the ceiling. "I know." Mori picks up where he left off, giving the first bruise he left some company as he sucked another mark onto her thigh. Tsubaki's smile leaves, in replacement a content look, not one disturbed or unpleasant. But simply there, simply accepting, and simply enjoying. There was something about knowing that the most powerful man in the city would obliterate the galaxy if he could, at your very word, and it was a completely different thing to hear him admit it, because a powerful man doesn't often like to admit that he has a weakness. But perhaps, in this moment, where they mutually agree they are each other's weaknesses and level each other out, there's no harm in stating such. Tsubaki gasps softly when Mori experiments with pressing his thumb on the first bruise while continuing to suck the second one into existence. It appears that her thighs were not sensitive, but he's made parts of them such, with the bruises. Discovering this, he gently rubs it with his thumb, and throughout what must have been the next half hour, litters her leg with it. One might think she's clumsy and constantly hits her leg on something. Tsubaki faced the ceiling, arms still behind her head, elbows pointed upwards. Her face had become less calm and collected the more time progressed, but she had ceased to let out any noises, which is why Mori didn't continue for hours marking her.
"What," Tsubaki breathlessly jokes as he finally lets go of her thigh and pulls away from it, wiping his mouth slightly with the back of his hand and crawling back over her so they're face to face. She smiled weakly, "Is that all—?" Tsubaki's brows furrow, but not in a distressed or angered expression, as he covers her mouth with his hand. More so in an intoxicating worry, knowing her breath would run short sooner than normal since she was already panting from being marked up the way she'd been. Mori seemed breathless himself; quite low on stamina, and she might've teased him for it if her mouth wasn't covered.
"Of course not." He chuckled softly. She realizes that his other hand is still resting beside her leg. "I just figured you shouldn't get off so easily; What's the point of marking something as yours if no one can see it?" Tsubaki's eyes widened and she huffed. He doesn't give her time to protest, connecting his lips to her neck at the same time he retracted his hand from her mouth. Fuck, Tsubaki sighs shakily. Her neck is much more sensitive than her thighs. She was always so good at hiding it; he'd touched it many times and never suspected a thing from her unwavering glare and stance. But now, she was already vulnerable, undone like the bow that lay next to her, and Mori was off his leash, gloves off, quite literally, and he knew now she had a weakness there. Once it was discovered, if he ever touched her neck again, it would always mean something more than it did before. Tsubaki still refuses to let out the noise he longs for, because he's long tired of her whines and whimpers and yearns for so much more. Tsubaki can recognize a hungry beast when she sees one, especially when he's so close to her. He wants her to moan, he wants her to say his name, he wants her to lose all capability of saying words, only able to communicate through breathy noises.
Tsubaki would not give in so easily, however. If he wanted her to moan and eventually scream (and she knew he wanted her to scream because he was getting more aggressive by the moment), he'd have to work for it. Mori continued to suck at her neck, even tilting her chin up with his hand for more room, and the action drove her crazy. It was the little things, with Tsubaki, Mori had noticed. How the pressing of the bruise on her thigh with just his thumb alone broke her composure, how undoing her bow began her own undoing too, how tilting her head up in the way that he did made her heart race. Good, he thinks, because he was never one to cut corners, and always put a lot of effort into the details. His hand rested on the bottom of her skirt, which, when she stood, was down to her ankles, but after having kissed and sucked at her thigh, was midway down her thigh. He placed the tips of his fingers on her thigh, right at the edge of her skirt. Carefully, his middle and ring finger slide beneath her skirt. As suspected, such a small and calculated movement made Tsubaki's breath hitch for a moment. At this point, sucking her neck was a pass time while he analyzed how she reacted to his small touches. And God, did she react.
Tsubaki noticed how when he slid his entire hand beneath her skirt, he did it in such a way it didn't push her skirt up or move it down, but left it how it was. Instinctively, her right leg bends at the knee, earning a chuckle from Mori in response. A much more obvious reaction that continued to confirm his suspicions. Each knee thing he learned about Tsubaki, he planned to thoroughly explore for however long until he got bored or discovered something new. He knew her thigh wasn't sensitive, and so relied heavily on her way he carefully dragged his ring finger up her inner thigh, resting his hand on her inner, upper thigh, as far as it could go without touching her in a way that he wanted to save for after he thoroughly explored her response to small movements. He grabs her thigh, his thumb on top of her thigh and the rest curled around the inside, holding her leg delicately. He held it only for a moment, and slowly pressed down on her thigh with his thumb, moving his fingers in a calculated manner. Mori took the time to still make sure his movements weren't changing the residency of her skirt. They both preferred something like this with some kind of clothing. Perhaps him touching her the way she was beneath her clothes, unseen by both of them but they know of it in detail nonetheless, was just more attractive to them than if, like many preferred, they forwent their clothes. No, with these two, even that needed to be planned carefully and significantly.
His hand leaves her thigh for a moment and repositions itself— Tsubaki knows even though she feels nothing and can't see it. He had finally gotten bored of her reactions to his touching her thigh in an intricate manner. Her heart raced and her hands rested on top of her head, elbows pointed up and inward, her bent arms now covering her face. Mori still had his eyes closed but could hear her shifting, a sure sign she knew how he was about to go about his next fixation. He only opens his eyes to glance at the time. They had been here for an hour and a half, and they both felt so amazing in a way that no one else would ever be able to feel, because no one else was them in this situation, without ever even touching what many people dived right into touching in these situations. Tsubaki doesn't like how long he's taking, because it was making her anxious and anticipation was eating away at her. Mori continues to mark her neck as though he's not the least bit deterred from what he planned to do next. He's quite glad he took his gloves off before this, because he wouldn't want to remove his hand to have to do so, and touching her like this with his glove on wouldn't be the same.
Tsubaki's breath hitches when she feels him press tow fingers against her. Most likely his middle and ring fingers, though she can't see them. Her first instinct is to swear, but she doesn't, because she feels like she'll be swearing more from panic because she doesn't know how to respond to this touch or feeling, above all else. But Mori wants results, and he wants them now. She wondered what happened to the patient man she took orders from just a few hours before this. He keeps one finger still against her, the other slowly dragging up and down her clothed entrance. There was something about him touching her through her clothes rather than skipping that and discarding her undergarments that made this somehow much more powerful. Tsubaki needed some kind of way to get rid of the butterflies he was causing her. It simply felt too nice, and she needed to do more than whimper and pant without giving into what he wanted.
"Fuck." Tsubaki opts to swear. She takes as much of a breath as she can, but Mori's fingers aren't stopping, and he continues to stroke her, in a calculated manner, of course, because he had heard of the way some men went about doing this kind of thing, and every time he overheard some group of guys at a bar or on the street talk about it, he knows that that woman probably never genuinely bothered to contact them ever again. "Shit.." Perhaps some women and men loved to be touched in a way that was chaotic and in a way that lacked direction, but Tsubaki was not "some women". No, Tsubaki was a very particular sort of woman that was so difficult to please, everyone mutually agreed it was impossible to do so. "G.. God- fucking.." But Mori wasn't "some men", either, and he knew exactly how to go about making this goddess feel the way he believed she deserved to feel, and the way he felt he deserved to make her feel. Mori stopped dragging his finger and pressed both against her, then dragged both up and done this time. "Fuck."
Now that he was truly thinking about it, he wondered if he ever heard her swear before. She was quite well versed in etiquette, and her manners were above anyone he knew, even himself. He decides if she ever did swear, he would remember it, because it was so uncommon. Even though she wasn't moaning, which would come with patience, she was swearing as much as she could, which was a victory for Mori nonetheless. But of course, it was bitter sweet, and imagine his disappointment when he finally opens his eyes but her face is covered by her arms. He chuckled softly, deserting her now bruise covered neck, and placing a hand on her wrist. She quickly swats it away, and puts her defenses back up before he can see her face. "How rude." He teased, though lightly, because it was one of the lesser "rude" things she'd done, if rude at all. As if in a punishment fashion because of her swatting his hand away, his fingers work more passionately and calculated against her, and by the moment Tsubaki was the one yearning for more. "Fuck.." she feels that his fingers have a new target now, and his other hand did as well.
Tsubaki could only really shiver as he unclipped her collar, which was connected by a button. The pads of his fingers rested against her neck, which made her shiver, and dragged down until they were at the next button? Which was the only button he undid. His hand slid to his right, and her left, pushing aside her shirt to reveal her shoulder. He gently feels along the smooth skin, and his fingers slide beneath her bra strap to move it aside with her shirt. Nothing too big a deal, he simply wanted to admire her shoulder. Perhaps because it was so close to her neck, he had a desire to make it too. But for now, he kissed, because even in a moment like this, as his fingers below her skirt snuck past her clothing, he felt a bit nervous and needed something to do. Tsubaki expected him to very carefully tease her with his fingers before slowly sliding one inside her, then the next. She'd been led to believe such a thing by the way he'd been acting with his hand.
Tsubaki's brows furrow and she moves her arms a bit because she feels nothing, but knows he hasn't removed her hand. Is something the matter, she wonders, and she moves her arms just slightly out of the way to look at him, and of course hes looking right at her, making eye contact as he thrusts both his fingers in her at the same time, with a devious smirk. Tsubaki let out a sweet moan, accompanied with an expression he couldn't quite describe, because it was gone the moment he saw it. "Oh, you fucking asshole—" She choked on her words as he moves her fingers. And her whole body twitched and she shifted, wanting to move, wanting to curl up. Her legs only instinctively close, but that doesn't affect Mori in the slightest, his hand still where it was, and it would remain there no matter what. Her closing her legs was to her own demise, because she would still feel his fingers even so. She wanted to, of course, but it was a nice demonstration she couldn't escape his touch and would feel it, all of it. And within a simple moment he began to thrust his fingers, humming innocently even, as he kissed along her shoulder.
Tsubaki's moans echoed throughout the room. Maybe some would argue they weren't particularly loud, like Mori craved. But it wasn't as though he was fucking her, it was just his fingers. And to pull a reaction so drastic out of her from his fingers alone was more than enough for him, for the time being. Not to mention how between her moans and breaths she'd continue her onslaught of swears. God, he could listen to this for hours. Moment by moment his pants were getting more uncomfortable, but he simply couldn't speed things along to relieve himself and Tsubaki quite yet. This was far too much fun, and a once in a lifetime opportunity. He planned to make complete use of it. Mori takes one of her hands with his free one, thumbing the palm of her hand simply because he knows it would drive her crazy, and how on earth could that drive her crazy when she's so focused on what he's doing with his other hand, normal people might wonder. And that's precisely why not a single other person would be fit for Tsubaki. But anyway he leads her hand to his own thigh, sighs softly. He definitely looked forward to whenever the next time was that they'd be alone, and Tsubaki'd be the one to have him beneath her, swearing and moaning and twitching. She'd probably do it each time as revenge for this very moment.
"God.. the things you do to me, Tsubaki..." Mori murmured softly, directly in her ear, having moved his lips up from her shoulder. "You're absolutely divine, you know that..?" He chuckled, just as softly, because the low tone of his voice was driving Tsubaki insane. "You're like a goddess. You are a goddess, and I don't believe in gods, you know~" he chuckled softly and left her hand at his thigh simply because he liked it there, and moved that hand to her hair, running his fingers through it. He wishes to curl his fingers around the beautiful messy strands and pull, but simply out of control. He doubts it would bring her any true pleasure. Her head was sensitive in a negative way, much more prevelant to pain due to her ability. So he supposed he'd have to pass on the idea, for now. Nothing wrong with that, though. If one had access to touch Tsubaki however they pleased and complained because they couldn't pull their hair— well, it was like complaining that you're eating off a silver plate instead of a golden one at an expensive buffet.
Mori's hand retreats back to his own self. He continues his fingers movements, quite roughly, actually, because he was adoring the sounds she was making. He decides to unbutton her shirt two or three more buttons down, simply because he likes to see her skin, and her shoulders. Her shoulders seemed particularly pretty, in such a way he couldn't bother to mark them. Somehow, they lacked scars. The rest of her body was decorated with bullet wounds, scars, the works. She was gorgeous, of course, but he would leave the only part of her that managed to be unscarred, unscarred. Her shoulders, of course. Every other part of her belonged to him completely. She may keep her shoulders. But that doesn't mean he can't worship them. In spite of it all, he's continued with his fingers and Tsubaki was hardly paying attention, her hand over her mouth and her eyes snapped shut. That was perfect, because he had ditched the very slow and calculated movements he'd taken beforehand in favor of calculated but rough ones, to catch her off guard. He doubted she'd noticed he had worked her undergarments down; panties about mid thigh, and the straps of her bras aside, which was more than enough skin for him. He supposed if he cared to pay attention for an elongated amount of time to her breasts, he should've done so beforehand. He's not bothered. He'd doubted she'd even noticed that he'd undid his pants, and had gotten much closer in order to line up with her.
Mori now had two free hands again, which was wonderful. He rested his head on her chest as he pushed into her, and Tsubaki moaned louder, and he could hear the confusion because she had definitely not noticed they'd gotten this far yet. To be able to catch a woman like this off guard was a skill only he was sure he had. He loved her dearly, and he decided to ditch his theatrics and poetry and just call it love. It's not like there was a word for a feeling stronger anyway. He sighed shakily, groaning into her skin, one hand holding her thigh and the other on her beautifully arched back. He supposed that right now, they could cease to admire each other and simply revel in the feeling they were sharing right now. Tsubaki wasn't screaming or being loud at all, which was completely fine with Mori. Now that they were actually in the moment, he figured out that they were both quite quiet individuals. They matched each other perfectly, noise level wise, and with everything else too. Eventually, the both of them lost track of time. The feeling that they gave each other was beyond something earthly, and they both got lost and drunk in it.
It was still dark out by the time that they were finished, both of them panting, sweating messes. It definitely didn't help that they were both clothed. It added to the heat of it all, and neither of them were complaining. The both of them doubted they would ever look at the set of furniture in his office without remembering this. They didn't get it particularly dirty at all, but both of them had been on it at this particular moment and that alien stripped the couch of any innocent and simple looks they may have given it. Mori was passed out, at this point. Tsubaki guessed she only wasn't because she had passed out earlier. She had one arm behind her head, and the other around him. He was sleeping on top of her, which was annoying, because she wanted to go home and take a shower. But she also guessed it would be a bit cruel to leave him head all by his lonesome, though she kind of wanted to because it would be funny. While Tsubaki would easily make her way back home and cover the marks on her neck with concealer, Mori would have one thousand times more trouble trying to hide what happened that night, despite their positions.
Tsubaki very carefully sits up, and carefully shifts his body so he lays on the couch by himself. She sighed and fixed her clothes properly, pulling back up her undergarments and buttoning up her shirt. She puts her hair in a ponytail for the time being to cool off her neck. She properly dresses him too, though he hadn't really removed any clothes. She chuckled and lazily tossed his coat over him in a blanket fashion. That should suffice for now. Tsubaki wanted to go home and shower, and then sleep for a while. Perhaps until sunrise. Maybe developing a normal sleep schedule wasn't so bad after all. Tsubaki looks at Mori again, then sighs. She decides, instead, to pick him up and carry him back to his own home first, which was on the way from the building to her own. But she decided, what even was the point, and walked straight past the path to his house, and went to her own instead. How funny, she thinks, how low he truly was on stamina the entire time and was running off of adrenaline. She lays him down on her bed and unties his hair, which was messy and barely tied anyway, and tied it again in a ponytail to cool off. She takes off his shoes and puts them by the door, and does the same with her own. She takes a quick shower, and a cold one, because she felt too hot for comfort and to be able to fall asleep. She dried her hair quickly and opts to just sleep in her comfy, cozy shower robe. But of course, as she returned to her room, Mori had rolled over in his sleep, to the side of the bed she often slept on. Tsubaki only laughed quietly and tiredly, stretching her arms as she laid down beside him and rested an arm over him, quickly falling asleep.
"You're acting like a toddler. Get up." Tsubaki rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. Mori just groaned, sitting himself up but doing nothing more. It was morning now, no longer dark out, which unfortunately meant they both had to get to their jobs and work on what sleep they had. They wouldn't be up so late tonight, but would most likely end up falling asleep in the same bed, regardless. Tsubaki let her hair down from the ponytail and brushes it out, braiding it over her shoulder as usual. She was already dressed in clean clothes, meanwhile Mori wasn't even making an effort to get out of bed. Spoiled, you are. She sighed. Probably used to your beauty sleep. She wished their professions were perhaps a bit more convenient to things like this, but in the end they would've never met if they were. Tsubaki walks by him to go to the kitchen, definitely hungry. She hadn't eaten in a while. He grabs her wrist and pulls her back, hugging her from behind, burying his face in the back of her neck. "Mori—"
"I love you." He interrupts her, closing his eyes, and simply holding her. She supposed for once, they can be late for work.
"I love you, too."