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meownotgood · 4 months

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under the influence / hayakawa aki

When Aki gets dragged to the most popular strip club in Tokyo in hopes it'll help him "de-stress", against all odds, you help him do just that. In return, he finally cures your itch for something more.

CHAPTER TWO — PINK LEMONADE MIMOSA

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 75.3k

tags (for this chapter): 18+, aki is a virgin, reader is a stripper, strangers to lovers, literally so much smut, semi-public sex, body worship, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms (from both parties), orgasm control, fingering, creampie, virginity loss / virgin kink, cumplay, overstimulation, riding, doggy style, missionary, reader is shorter than aki, reader has nipple piercings, reader has a bit of experience, lots of praise + teasing + dirty talk (giving and receiving), switchy aki, reader is touch-starved and has had shitty relationships in the past, the smallest hint of coercion (reader convinces aki to do it without a condom, he's into it tho), the smallest hint of bloodplay (reader bites aki's lip so hard it bleeds, he's also very into it)

masterlist.

read on ao3

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

You're finally starting to realize just how far you've come since this night first began.

Aki Hayakawa has grown from a stranger who's name you fortunately happened to catch on his ID, to a man you've grown closer to than you ever could've expected. In between it all, your relationship has morphed into something you can't even begin to put your finger on. It's something more — much more — than what you were to each other at the start, that's all you know.

In the short time you've spent together, after everything you've both been through and after everywhere this has gone, what your heart holds for him is nothing you've ever felt before, not for anyone. You aren't used to a softness this genuine. You know he isn't, either. This could blossom into more, for the both of you, if you're foolish enough to let it.

Maybe that's exactly what you're hoping for.

Truthfully, this scares you, almost. There's an ache in his shape gnawing at your chest and begging for more, for a closeness and a sweetness you didn't know you could crave. For the deliberate tenderness he's already given you a taste of, and the spark in your system you've felt since minute one; the kind you only get when you know you're alive.

And really, as crazy and unpredictable as this night has been, it's not like you didn't see this coming. You did, and you didn't.

Of course you knew most of what you'd be getting into, no matter how innocent you tried to play. You can't drag a handsome devil hunter to the club's private bedrooms and still expect nothing to happen. You knew he'd be inexperienced, and when it comes to this, you figured he'd be timid to the point where you'd have to show him the ropes. You knew that, but if it meant getting closer to him, you were fine with it. More than fine with it. The only thing you didn't know was the true extent of his naivete.

You're not upset, not disappointed. Not mad or disgusted. Not any of the things he might've assumed you would be if he'd worked up the guts to tell you himself. After all, it's just sex.

No, if anything, you're amused. You're excited. You might be wrong. Maybe you're jumping the gun. Either way, you can't get your heart to stop pounding. Fluttery and eager and incessant in your ears, your chest feels hot and your head is light. When you place your palm onto his cheek, he's burning up, as warm to the touch as you are. The intensity you've felt in the minutes past comes rushing back to you in waves.

He must have the wrong impression of you. He's wrong, if he really thinks whatever amount of inexperience he has would make you care about him any less.

Perhaps Aki is far from what you first expected out of him, too. If anything, you could have never predicted this night to turn out this way with him, not one bit. The sex, maybe you saw that coming. But the feelings you have towards Aki as you've come to know him? Never.

He needs this. For once, you want him to let go, to forget. You're going to give him a gentle taste of love, of a world more divine. Now that you think about it, you've needed this too.

You're greedy for neglecting everything else to be with him, common sense and the rest of your job. You shouldn't, not when you know once you have him, you aren't going to be able to let him go. But who is going to blame you?

This is the most entertained, the most relaxed and comfortable you've ever been in the entirety of your time working here. Aki is a tenderness worth holding close, he isn't calm or collected at all, he isn't what he shows on the surface. He's soft and he's scared, he might seem composed but he's no more experienced than any of the strip club's regulars, he's sweet and kind and perfect and he's so —

"You're so dramatic."

"What?"

A pin drops; Aki's expression turns to confusion, his brows knit up with a slight yet unmistakable tinge of annoyance. You're starting to laugh and he stares up at you expectantly, wide-eyed.

The grin you give him nearly takes his breath away. Playful and purely ecstatic, tugging at the strings of his heart without even trying. You aren't taking him seriously, but that's alright. That's a relief.

"Stop," You half-heartedly push at his chest, "You don't have to be so embarrassed. It's not like I'm judging or anything. I wouldn't do that."

His voice has already regained its usual steeliness. It feels good to hear. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've never had sex before?"

"I…"

Ah, you've got him. And you aren't wasting any time, you're ripping the bandaid off right away; whether it was the brazenness of your words, or whether it was because he didn't expect you'd find him out so soon, your question takes him off guard. His shoulders stiffen up, a telling heat blossoms from under his cheeks. Everything caught in his throat, thick and blistering, he can't speak. He glances up towards you, and even without a proper answer, the look on his face tells you all you need to know.

So, you were right.

"Aki, what's wrong?"

He's really starting to lose his composure. Aki's face is red from his cheeks to his ears and even though he can't see it, he can feel the way the flush travels even further, across his chest and beneath his collar. He tries to sit up but it's no use; he's blocked by your firm palm on his chest and your weight in his lap.

Aki groans, flopping back, covering his face with both hands. "This is stupid."

You carefully grab his wrists and guide his hands away, and he keeps them limp, moving them without a fight.

"You're the only one who's stupid." You counter.

Aki visibly pouts. "Let me up."

You won't. You think you'll do the exact opposite, actually. Aki opens his mouth — to spout another protest is your best guess — but you shut him up with your lips on his, before either of you can find out.

Immediately, he chokes out a surprised sort of noise, vibrations muffled by your mouth, but then he's relaxing, tilting his head to the tune of your own. Thumb and forefinger grasping his chin, you kiss him softly, intensely. Aki lets himself melt into it, his eyes closing, fingertips grazing your cheek as he kisses back. The world stops turning for a few fleeting seconds. When you pull away, he's calm, his eyes are deep, hazed over. He scans your face, he waits for you to say something.

"You're way too serious."

Aki blinks, eyelids heavy. He wishes you'd quit the embarrassing talk, and simply kiss him again.

Your tone is quieter this time when you tell him, "None of that is a big deal to me, you know? Quit acting like it is."

Your gaze is difficult to keep meeting. Aki looks past where you sit on top of him. He glances down towards the end of the bed, where the sheets have grown untucked and messy from what he can only assume is yours and his fault. A couple seconds go by, and then a few seconds more. Your finger taps his cheek. He doesn't reply.

You scoff, but it's unconvincing. This time, your fingers drift down, skating either side of his neck. The rosy-purple marks flushing the surface of his skin look prettiest when they're underneath your fingertips.

"What do you want me to do?" Earnest and tender, your words recapture his attention. "I promised you I'd give you whatever you wanted, right? So tell me the truth."

Aki glances towards your gaze, finally. He answers without skipping a beat, "Whatever you want to do."

"Dumbass, I'm asking you." When your fingers start to trace underneath his collar you resist the urge to grab a fistful and shake him by it. To your disappointment, he looks away again, seemingly unfazed, but you don't miss how the bridge of his nose subtly crinkles.

You sigh. "I just want you to be honest with me. Can't you do that?"

"I don't… I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with doing."

"Stop it. I want this, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't. And I want to do whatever's gonna make you happy. Whatever will make you forget about all those stupid little stresses you've got swirling around in your head."

Aki's lips purse into a thin, taut line.

His weight shifts as you fling your arms around him, elbows resting on his shoulders. You're continuing, "I want you to enjoy yourself. You deserve to enjoy yourself. Do you not think so?"

Now, it's Aki's turn to sigh. He looks back towards you, expression softer than before. He watches with his breath caught in his lungs as you lean in, fingers toying with his hair but refusing to give him the satisfaction of running through.

You're quiet. So quiet, so alluring it makes his head spin; "Tell me what you want Aki, tell me, and I'll give it to you. Anything at all."

Anything.

Oh, there's so much he wants, he's longed for more from you in this past hour than he's ever wanted for himself in his whole pathetic life. He hates this feeling and loves it at the same time: adores the addicting river of desire flowing through his veins, despises how it itches and claws at his chest until it aches. A desperate sense of need chokes up his throat, goading him to beg for things he never thought he'd be begging for. He hates that he wants to be cherished, hates how badly he needs to feel like he's sitting right in your soft spot.

The feeling of want is a lot to contend with for someone who's barely ever wanted anything. When he was younger, he wanted his brother to get better, wanted his family to be happy. When he got older, he believed he didn't deserve to want for them to come back.

"I- I think I…"

This isn't as simple as you, or even as he first made it out to be. It could have been, but he's gone and made feelings for himself he can't chase away. Because as much as he's tried to be strong and composed and resistant, ultimately, he's weak. Weak and lonely, relying on you to fill in the blanks. Weak enough to fall for you when he knows he shouldn't, for your kind touches and even kinder words. Enough to crave more, more than he believes he deserves.

Maybe that's alright. He can quell his shaking heart, he can pretend things are simple. Just for tonight, he supposes.

You told him you wished for him not to think about work, or devils, or hardships. Or anything outside of this room and what's happening right now. He's always been the type to look towards the past and the future, never focus on the present. But for tonight, he thinks he should. He'll have regrets if he doesn't. And he's been through enough to know regrets are always worse than whatever comes before them.

He promised himself he wouldn't hesitate. A half-hearted promise, really. It might be time to make good on that.

Breath sharply quickening, Aki finally concedes, "I want to… Think I want to keep going. Like you said."

"Yeah? You want more?"

Your voice tickles the shell of his ear, you're right, but it's more than humiliating to have his own words deciphered and tossed back in his face. His eyelids are getting heavy. His chest tingles like fireworks about to explode, and his limbs go limp.

"Yeah. I do."

"We can take it slow. Take our time." Right against his ear, you whisper such sweet words, your fingers curl in the roots of his hair and the sensation is oh-so pleasant, "I want to make this about you. We can do whatever you're comfortable with, and stop when you've had enough. How does that sound?"

"Good. That sounds good." Aki swallows, nodding.

The mattress dips slightly as you shift, pushing back up again, palms flat on his chest to steady yourself. "Then I promise I'll take care of you. Okay?"

When you look at his face, Aki's got his lips pursed up into something of a pout, he's clearly unsure or nervous or embarrassed, maybe a combination of the three. But regardless, he doesn't falter, he nods again.

"Okay."

"Don't look so nervous." You're sliding down slowly to give yourself more room, moving to straddle his thighs, "All you need to worry about is making sure you enjoy yourself. And if there's anything you're scared of, just tell me. I'll show you what to do."

Aki exhales a steady puff of air. "Got it."

Reaching up, you start by unbuttoning his shirt. You stretch forwards to pop the top-most button, then the second one down, then the one after that. Aki's thighs squirm slightly as your weight repositions on top of them. His gaze darts from your face to your hands, his vision going blurry at the edges, and he breathes in deep to keep it refocused.

Already, you're tugging his shirt from his shoulders and he's following along before he has a chance to think about it, pulling his arms from each sleeve. He sits up, allowing you to yank the dress shirt free from his back. You gently toss it aside on the bed once you're finished.

You waste no time pressing your palms flat to his bare stomach. He flinches instinctually from the contact, but soon, he's melting into it. Your hands are surprisingly warm, even warmer as you start to glide them up, bringing them to his chest, causing him to relax and sink further into the mattress. Your thumbs brush over the faint muscles in his abdomen. You feel out the ridges of his ribs when he breathes in, the expanse of his chest, needy fingertips dip into the curve of his collarbones — Your touch spreads warmth and flickering sparks in its wake.

Aki swallows the thick lump forming in his throat. His heartbeat rings in his ears like a church bell; you trace your fingers along a deep scar traveling the length of his shoulder. Your fingernails tickle the surface, and he's expelling a nice, deep sigh, closing his eyes as he gives himself up to you.

That's it. You're whispering, voice quiet, only a figment, See? No reason to be anxious. I've got you.

It's your job to make people relax, isn't it? Yet Aki still finds himself wondering how you got to be so damn good at it.

You trace his arms in the same way you did once before, palms traveling up each one. You squeeze his shoulders, massage them a little until he's sighing, going down further to hold his waist, thumbs rubbing the faintest circles into his skin. His figure is as handsome as you were expecting: thin and stronger than he looks, muscle in his back and his shoulders, pale skin scattered with long, faded scars. Aki looks down — You're shifting back, leaning in. He sucks in a breath of anticipation, he sees you press your lips to his stomach, and feels you kiss right above his waist line.

Again, you kiss closer to his side, you go upwards to place one over where his sternum would be, and then a kiss on his shoulder, one onto his throat — he's shivering, his eyes are closing. You press one on the shell of his ear, one over a mismatched scar on his chest. Each touch is rippling water: trembling, echoing.

He can hardly handle this; you're leaving kisses over all the places no-one has ever touched before, no-one but you. No-one but blood and bruises and devils. There's never been room for anything this soft.

He feels like he's dying. Dying and coming back to life. Or perhaps both, simultaneously. It would be nice if he could feel exactly like this when he dies.

You're so pretty, Aki.

One hand rising to cup his cheek and tilt his head upward, the other dips lower, fingertips snaking underneath his slacks to barely brush the waistband of his briefs. Aki almost doesn't hear you. His eyes go misty, and he thinks for a second he just might cry.

You really are so soft, treating him softer, safer than anything he's ever known. He was supposed to be keeping things simple, but when it's this easy for you to tug at him, he finds it impossible to keep his brain from scrambling into a complicated, wound-up knot.

You're still going, dragging your hands down his sides. His skin tingles, your fingertips caress every one or his scars, each of his little insecurities. How long has he waited, needed to feel this, without even knowing? How long has his heart eaten away at itself, desperate for something just like this?

"You okay?"

Your hands have frozen, he realizes. The familiar sound of your voice, louder than before, brings him back to reality.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

You part his bangs, pushing them away from his eyes and tucking them behind his ears. You prop yourself up and lean your elbows onto his chest until they're close to digging in.

"You know," You're saying, the faintest tinge of a smile tugging at your cheeks, "I feel special, getting to see you like this."

Aki blinks, doesn't answer.

"I wanna make you happy. You're important to me. I want to make you feel special too, Aki." Fingertips drumming a rhythm on his shoulder, your lips ghost the space between the corner of his jaw and his ear, "You'll let me, won't you?"

You already have.

With a dull sort of laugh, you double over, you wrap your arms around him; you understand you're getting cheesy, a bit too sentimental for your own liking. Your voice comes out as a deep mutter, breathed right against his skin, "I bet you've never felt like that before, huh? So special."

Like this? Like the world's stopped, instead of mercilessly spinning around? No, he hasn't. This is the first time it's felt as if everything finally makes sense.

He knows it's fleeting. Aki doesn't want to think about what's going to happen when this is all over. He wants to think even less about how he probably won't see you again after tonight, how he won't be able to forget the things you've said to him, how he'll feel your touch linger on his skin for the rest of his time alive, and he'll end up cursing himself for not stretching out this moment with you for a few moments more.

Returning to his same old job, the same old nightmare, only to feel that familiar lingering pain will be even harder to bear knowing the taste he's had of something softer.

He takes a deep breath in, an even deeper breath out, and somehow manages not to tear up. He answers, "Not until now."

"I must be doing something right then, huh?"

Aki can practically feel your smile against his skin, swears he can almost hear it in your voice. You sit up, and that intoxicating grin is proven true on your face. Your hand cups his cheek and Aki, ever so pliant, finds himself leaning into your touch.

"So-"

The moment's short-lived, because you're already tearing your hand away and breaking the silence; you scooch further back, and Aki watches, complacent. His heart skips to a steady rhythm in his chest. The ghost of your touch still lingers on his cheek, tingling and warm.

"...You've really never done this before, or anything like this. Right?"

Aki doesn't answer, figures it's rhetorical. By now, you've settled on his thighs, you're reaching down for his belt. He hardly notices. He stares at the shadows — yours, his — on the ceiling and allows his mind to spin.

He's important to you. His head keeps coming back to those words in particular. Through your eyes, he'd like to see himself. Perhaps then, he'd come to treat his own well-being much kinder, gentler.

You're already fiddling with the buckle. "Why though, why haven't you?"

He merely shrugs, not having an answer. The gentle clink of metal on metal rings in his ears, and he tries not to pay too much attention.

"You ever had a girlfriend? A boyfriend?"

Aki freezes up at that: stone cold. Though it's not like he has a reason to lie.

"No. I haven't."

Cute. God, he's cute. The professional little topknot devil hunter you found yourself so intrigued by is an innocent, goody two-shoes virgin.

Carefully, you pull the metal pin from the hole in the leather, working it free. The buckle makes a satisfying jingle as you smoothly tug his belt from the loops in his slacks. Gaze focused down, you're talking while you work, "Ever been asked on a date? You're handsome, I can't imagine you never have. Do you always say no to that kind of thing?"

Aki's voice is level. "I've had a few people ask me before. But I turned them down."

"Why's that? Not interested?"

Tilting his head, eyes narrowing, he fixates on the streaky paint job adorning the adjacent wall.

"I guess not. I don't want to burden anyone. And I don't have time to go on dates, anyways."

His belt is gathered in your hands and neatly set aside onto the edge of the bed. You hook your fingers in the empty loops of his slacks, you take a moment to feel the smooth fabric beneath your palms. No reaction. Then, you're toying with the shiny silver button on the front, you're popping it — and that gets Aki to suck in a nice, sharp breath.

"A burden… How could you be a burden to anyone?" You ask him honestly. As you're pulling down his zipper, he props himself up on his elbows, and you're glancing up at his face; his brows are slightly knotted, he's looking away, he's still fronting his composure. His slacks go loose around his hips, and he presses his thighs together instinctively, holding them in place.

Matter-of-factly, like he's reading off a script rehearsed a thousand times over, he answers, "I'm not good with relationships. And either way, I'm a devil hunter. Devil hunters die on missions often. It'd be irresponsible to get involved with someone. If I die, I'd only be burdening whoever I leave behind."

"Lift your hips for me."

At the murmur of your command, Aki does so, slowly lifting his hips off the bed, enough to allow you to pull his pants past the divots of his hips, down his thighs and his bruised knees, all the way until they're left pooling at his ankles. Your thumbs hook around his waistband, touch warm on his bare skin. He doesn't notice the way you're smiling to yourself; his boxers are a soft, blue and black plaid, so fitting for him. You're barely able to resist making a comment about how cute they are.

"So you'll burden yourself, make yourself lonely to avoid hurting someone else," You meet his eyes, but for only half of a second before the creeping heat on his spine forces him to look away. "Just when I thought you couldn't get any more self-sacrificing."

Trying to hide his growing nerves, Aki flexes his sweaty hands, "It's what I have to do. You'd understand more if you were in my position. If you were a devil hunter."

What he has to do. There he goes again. All of the sudden, it's like you're back at square one, remembering how you felt when you first sat beside him. How you watched him shake and wanted more than anything to hold him until he was breathing again.

You'll have him change his mind by the end of tonight, no matter what it takes.

You scoff, "Is that so?"

Your head tilts, fingertips drumming on his side, touch so faint he can hardly feel it. Aki steals a glance towards you. The hint of a smile on your face is indecipherable.

"You aren't a burden to me."

This time, he holds his gaze on you, he keeps it there. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to. His heart shouldn't skip in the way it does, instantly pounding and throttling inside his chest. You've barely said anything, but those simple, stupid words alone send him spiraling a mile a minute.

Throat dry, hands clammy, he's about to muster up the courage to ask you if you really mean that when you're sitting up, sliding off of him, smiling warmly and laughing even warmer. "And for the record, I think you'd do pretty well on a date."

He wants to, because boy does he feel awkward letting you ramble on while he stays silent, but Aki can't seem to figure out how he's supposed to respond to that, either.

'Til now, a date seemed like such a foreign concept. The kind of thing his coworkers blabber about to pass the time. The kind of thing he'd only see in movies where the world isn't as complicated, and afterwards be left to wonder if it's anything like real life.

Probably not. Life is never so simple. He shouldn't get his hopes up. A date with you might be nice, though. Your arm outstretches, your hand tightly grasps his wrist before Aki can mull over the rest of those thoughts.

"Look, c'mere." You instruct, tugging him forwards, he follows along and you pull him until he sits up the rest of the way. "Sit on the end of the bed. Make yourself comfortable."

So, Aki does. The mattress shifts as he shuffles to position at the edge of the bed with his legs hanging over. You let go of his wrist and you carelessly push his clothes onto the floor in a heavy heap to make more room for him. Your eyes lock with his, you're sinking down in front of him and — Oh. You're sinking down in front of him.

The realization alone hits him nearly as hard as the sight of you below him. When you're down on your knees, you're forced to tilt your head, peering up at him through your lashes. Aki takes deep, steady breaths, they're shakier than he expected. He can't stop his heart from beating out of his chest, his gut from stirring with warmth.

Just like that, he's finally out of his head. He was almost starting to forget what the plan was in the first place.

You're giving him no time to rest either, already messing with the waistband of his briefs, hooking your fingers around while your other hand rests on his thigh and pushes them apart. He can hardly handle this; he's red in the face, he can feel beads of sweat prickle at the back of his neck and his forehead. You drag your fingers away, his waistband gently snaps against his skin, and as your palms work their way downward, smoothly gliding across his thighs, Aki shudders from the familiar, eager pang between his legs.

It isn't even all that dirty. Aki covers his mouth with his palm, surmises he's the dirty one for already getting so worked up when the only thing you've done is get down on your knees in front of him.

You rest your cheek on his inner thigh, you stare up at him with big, soft, wide eyes; you're so pretty like this, and he's so much taller compared to you, so much larger — You're the one beneath him but God, you're still the one with all the power.

Aki is the one who's waiting with bated breath for you to give him something, anything. You've got him in the palm of your hands, and he's the one who would so easily turn the situation around at a single word from you. He'd kneel and beg for it if it's what you wanted, what you asked for him to do.

Hopeless, he's always so hopeless when it comes to you, and every little thing you do to him only makes that clearer and clearer.

"Nervous?" You coo, and Aki's quick to answer with a hasty shake of his head, denying. Your eyebrow cocks, "Yeah? You look nervous."

"I'm not." Deep and weighty, Aki inhales, letting cold, sharp air enter his lungs. You keep your eyes locked onto his and he fights every urge in his system to tear his gaze away.

"It's okay if you are."

"I'm- I'm fine. Really."

Sure, he might say that, but in the short time you've known him, you've come to learn Aki is the easiest man in the world to see through. He's more honest than he tries to be, you bet he isn't even trying to lie, more-so attempting to keep himself convinced. He isn't nervous, he can handle this. He'll be fine. All he has to do is trust you.

"Are you sure you're ready?" You're asking, tone genuine, a flash of concern in the back of your eyes, "We can keep relaxing some more instead, if you want to. I wouldn't mind."

And he does, he trusts you, he really, really does. That's why when you're asking him, even though his heart is in his throat, he's giving you a hesitant nod, he's answering with a quiet voice, "Yes. I don't want to stop."

"Promise?"

Aki swallows. "Promise."

An ambient buzz fills the room when the air conditioner kicks on. The familiar smile returns to your face, now. Your fingertip trails nonchalantly up his inner thigh, it dips under his briefs, leaving goosebumps on his leg when it dances across his bare skin.

"You aren't used to this, I know."

You stretch that last syllable out until it makes him dizzy. Your bottom lip is pouty, tone sweet but pitying, "You've never had anything like this happen to you, huh?"

Your thumbs brush his waistband again. This time, it really seems as if you're going to grab it and start to take off his briefs, in the slow, teasing way he's found fitting of you, but your hands drift right away. Aki lets go of his held breath and can't decide if he feels disappointment or relief.

He grunts softly, he shifts. He stares down at your pretty hands as they softly squeeze his thighs, and he spreads them open a little wider on impulse. Quietly, he answers you simply, "Mhmm."

"You're pretty smart though. I bet you knew this would happen all along."

"It… Maybe. Maybe it could have. I wasn't sure what the hell you were planning."

Despite your teasing, or perhaps because of it, he's still all tense, still shifting with unrest. He reaches up and presses a palm to his forehead, he feels the heat that's builded there, pushing the messy strands of hair away from his eyes. The slightest outline is tenting his boxers, fabric darkened around where it's damp. Aki breathes a long, shaky sigh, his eyelids flutter. He leans back on the heels of his palms and swallows, his throat dry, gasping from the effort.

You murmur, "Never had anyone jerk you off before?"

"Ah-"

Instantly caught off guard, Aki feels his whole face get set on fire, his cheeks burn and his head goes woozy; blood rushes between his legs and he can't say anything, he can barely even manage the hurried shake of his head. It isn't the question, not you asking what he's done. It's the insinuation of what you're about to do.

He stammers over his own tongue, trying to rush a response, "No, no that's- No."

Leaning back a bit, he forces his posture to relax, his shoulders slumping. He stares down at you and doesn't care to fix his bangs when they fall in a sweaty mess around his eyes.

Your slight grin turns into something more akin to a smirk. You've just gotta do a little dirty talking to get him into it.

"Oh, yeah?" You tilt your head, your voice lilts in a giggly, far too innocent sort of way, "You're so sweet, I can't wait to touch you. You gonna let me make you cum?"

Aki breathes an airy gasp, almost chokes, doesn't answer. How the hell is he supposed to answer that? His wrist pops when he flexes his hand too hard, he starts trying to speak but everything comes out in a stuttery mix of ah's and uhm's and eh's. He was red in the face from the very start, but now, it's so much worse; the tips of his ears almost hurt from how hot they've been burning.

Thankfully, it doesn't seem like you were expecting an answer, because you're already peering up at him and continuing on.

"I can touch you, can't I?"

Voice as sweet and as smooth as spun silk, hands delicate and light as they skate the apex of his thighs, rubbing, then squeezing — If there was no hope of denying you before, Aki stares into your sparkling eyes and knows at this point, he's utterly done for. Not like he was ever planning on stopping in the first place.

He gulps, Adam's apple heavy and bobbing in his throat. He gives you the go-ahead with a simple nod. His hips squirm and his body weight shifts back and forth as he tries to get more comfortable, ignoring the growing tension gnawing at his gut and aching in his lap. Carefully, your fingertips drag from his thigh to his waistband. Then, across to the other side, and then back again, ever-so teasingly circling where you know he wants you to touch, dancing around where he's starting to get fatter and needier beneath his briefs.

The anticipation is worse than anything. Prickling at his neck, it bites down harder and harder with each passing second.

Your voice chimes out louder than the perpetual ringing in his ears. "Tell me I can, Aki."

Aki. His name sounded nicer that time than any of the other times you've said it before. Or maybe he's losing his mind.

He is, isn't he? He knows he is, damn well. But he needs this, you're so sweet, he's been alone and he can't handle being strong anymore — So it's okay, right? It's okay to indulge, just this once?

"You can," He says, he's breathless when he tries to speak, "Please, I need you to."

He knows you can tell how badly he needs more, knows the way you're toying with him is on purpose. Your eyes never leaving his, the air trapped right in his lungs, you let the heel of your palm brush over him slightly, just barely. Almost like you did so by accident.

But Aki knows; he gasps louder than he was trying to, even the smallest graze of contact has his head heavy, has him feeling himself pulse — and he's never felt that, never felt it ache so fucking badly before. He's a mess underneath his briefs already, and you've hardly touched him, hardly done anything more than tease. Yet still, he's dizzy, wound up and panting. You can tell how desperate he is, he's sure of it, but it's clear playing this game with him is your only concern.

Each echo of his loud, staggered breathing is music to your ears. Your fingertips brush closer, closer. He fists his hands in the sheets, he grips them firm to try and establish some form of composure. The thick fabric of his boxers is impossibly tight around him, so wet and constricting, he'd go ahead and tear them right off if he had less self-control.

But he's better than that. A little better, at least. Aki can play. He can be good, patient, compliant. He's put together enough to survive through your teasing, to keep meeting your eyes with the same eager, lust-filled flicker present in the back of his gaze as what's reflected in yours.

He isn't good enough to keep himself from getting hard, though. He's insatiable, sitting heavy on his thigh. And once you bring your hand to him again, soft expression caught between amusement and adoration, once you're more deliberate — Your hand rubs the stiff outline of his cock through the fabric, he's warm and he's perfect, you love the way his breath shakes. Love how his lips part and his pretty blue eyes go glossy, like water frozen-over.

Right then, Aki doesn't have enough strength to stop himself from gasping, from bucking his hips up into your touch to get closer. He huffs in disappointment the moment your palm travels away.

His head slightly tossed back, he shuts his eyes tight, he inhales harshly and his knuckles protrude out from his hand when his grip tightens on the sheets. His hair is a mess in his face, every inch of his skin is tinged rosy, warm to the touch. You've barely started, you've barely touched him, and already, he's falling apart.

And it's Aki, it's Aki who you're touching, who you've got falling apart at the seams from a few simple touches — It's him, everything about him and no-one else that has you so hooked. Those same broad shoulders tense up, skin slick with beads of sweat. His shiny black earrings glint when they catch the light. It's his tone of voice when your hand grips him again, his soft gasps that turn into even softer moans. Your touch melts his normally so smooth, so stern voice into high-pitched whimpers and whines, shy noises he has to keep muffled with the palm of his hand.

Your head is spinning. You squeeze him harder, toying with his thickening cock through his briefs, and Aki groans into his palm, his own breath hot on his skin. Pleasure racks through his body in waves. He needs your touch more, closer, his bottom lip won't stop quivering, and he thinks he'll die if you stroke him any harder, but he couldn't take it if you stopped.

With your thumb, you press down, applying the slightest pressure, you rub up the length of him and you swear when you reach the tip you can feel his dick throb.

You smirk, nearly chuckle, instead huffing contently out through your nose. Your gaze fixates on his lap, where his shape's grown more prominent now. "Sensitive, huh?"

Aki replies with a shallow, barely-there nod you almost don't manage to catch.

Almost.

"Yeah?" You place your whole palm over his covered cock, you admire the way he barely fits in your hand, "You must be, look at you. So hard. So needy already."

Aki's voice goes shaky, breathy. He spreads his thighs wider. His dick's twitching, leaking wet and sticky precum onto his leg, and the better you make him feel the more difficult it gets to keep playing along. "Mhmm…"

Your hand slowly drifts away with him, he follows your movement with his gaze as you take it up, up, up, until your fingers are wrapping around his waistband, and Aki's heaving a forceful sigh at the thought of you tugging it down.

"You want these off?"

You're clearly looking right at him, clearly asking for his answer, but he can't. His chest heaves, and Aki stares back at you dumbfoundedly, like a deer caught right in your headlights.

Your head tilts, "You gonna answer?"

Perhaps you're being a slight bit cruel to him, you're aware. But when his eyelids promptly flutter, when his expression starts to soften as you bring your hand back down, when you grab him and squeeze his dick through the fabric hard, his thighs tremor. He utters something pretty, something between a hitched breath and a whine, and you just can't help yourself.

He grits his teeth, jaw tense as he grinds them. His hips shift and threaten to roll up into your touch, but you stop him, holding him still with a firm hand on his thigh.

"C'mon," You scoff through a smile, "Talk to me."

"I- I'm- Give me a minute." Aki manages. You can't help but be impressed by how smooth his voice still sounds, how level he can keep it, despite how desperate he clearly is.

Your smile half-drops, and you let your tone go rigid for a moment, nice and genuine. "You alright? Is it too much?"

"No, no, keep- Keep touching." Aki huffs softly, neediness more present in his voice this time. He glances down, meets your gaze with big, round pupils, full moons of black swallowing the ocean blue of his iris. "But don't take anything off yet."

Oh. You like this. The desperation is more than evident in his eyes, in his voice, but that was stern, he's commanding. You can't deny how much you like it when he's selfish, when he takes some initiative. You could get used to him being bossy. It makes you wonder what else you'd see if you could bring out more of this side of him. Maybe in time.

So, without protest, you oblige; your hand finds the thick curve of his dick through his briefs, you give it a nice firm squeeze and Aki tosses his head backward, he swears under his breath. Sparks run through his veins again, his heart beats against his chest and fuck, he can feel himself dripping. He's making a damp, sticky mess of his cotton boxers. You grip him firm, give him a few half-hearted strokes, you fist his cock as best you can with the fabric in the way.

Aki shudders from his legs to his shoulders. His cock leaks steady dribbles of precum into his briefs, and he's certain you can feel the growing dampness of the fabric with the palm of your hand.

You're groping him so softly, and he's starting to throb, pulsing incessantly until he's squirming, his head spinning, his dick commanding all his attention. He can't even think, let alone speak. The softer you touch him, the more everything melts; his throat's dry, his heart aches from pounding so fast, so hard.

He wants to ask you to strip him of his briefs already. You won't make it easy, he's sure. Could he even handle any more than this? Briefly, when you stop touching for a moment, his head begins to clear, and Aki debates with himself whether he should start begging. He's sitting up, he's peering down at you with a quivering bottom lip, sorting through his options as he thinks of what to say.

And then, before he has the chance to make up his mind, and right when he thinks things couldn't get any worse, you start leaning in.

Staring up at him through your eyelashes, never breaking eye-contact, your hands on his thighs, your face between his legs, Aki watches as you kiss the shape of his cock through his boxers. Your lips are plush enough to feel, breath warm enough to give him a head rush.

He thought he'd be able to regain his composure if you gave him some time. But he was wrong, so wrong.

His breathing comes out a thousand times faster. The room is small, he's getting dizzy. He can fucking feel the outline of your lips like they're right there, with nothing inbetween, and he can't, not anymore, he can't take it.

"Stop… stop… stop…" Oh, he's whining now, so much for being assertive — He's practically blubbering over his words as he tries to speak them.

You freeze, hand hovering in the air. "You had enough?"

Aki gulps, hard enough to make his throat ache, to cause his Adam's apple to bob up and down solidly. Sweat forces his bangs to stick to his forehead and tickle his vision.

"Please." He begs that word and that word alone, voice fraying at the edges, soft and barely audible. It's difficult to speak, but he's trying.

"Please what?" Your palm rubs smooth circles into his thigh, your head tilts, "What is it?"

You're ridiculous.

Aki huffs. He throws his head back in annoyance and grumbles, but with a stern tone, he answers anyways, "Please touch me."

"You want these off?" Repeating the same motion, hooking your fingers around his waistband for the hundredth time, you peer up at him, to where his hand's come to cover his eyes, "Look at me."

Sweat glistens on the edges of his frame. Aki breathes in slowly, deeply. His lungs hurt. He clenches his jaw so tight it nearly starts to sting.

"C'mon, you can do it," Your hands drift up to meet his hips, thumbs nudging at his hip bones. Your words are much sharper than your touch, "I can keep teasing you, is that what you want? I'll gladly keep these on, keep touching you just like this."

Aki can't see it, but he can feel how your palms leave and then appear further down. They dance over his cock and give a tentative squeeze, and then one hand is gripping his thigh as the other squeezes him harder, firmer. He groans, breath catching, the sound of your voice laced with laughter resounds in his ears — "You wanna cum like this? God, that'd be so cute. Cute little virgin devil hunter cumming in his briefs."

"Stop, stop-"

His last few syllables come out like a choke. Aki opens his eyes slowly, he sits up more, he looks at you through a gap between his fingers. That small hint of his gaze, dew forming at his lash line, pleads infinitely harder than his words ever could, "Take it off. Please."

You follow along.

You follow before he's even got his plea halfway out of his mouth, fingers tugging at his briefs, committing the desperate tinge to his voice to memory and letting it run rampant in your heart. You want to hear more, and you'll give more, to get that taste of the side he only shows to you. You lean in, press another faint kiss to him — he shivers, swallows thickly — your eyes catch his for half a second longer than they should and he's flustered, his gaze is quick to flicker away.

The anticipation is palpable. Aki feels the way it bubbles up in his veins, swiftly boiling over. He shifts, he tries not to look as your hands around his waistband expose the messy patch of dark hair around his pelvis. He closes his eyes, and he sucks in a breath loud enough to hear when you finally free his hard cock; it springs up, taps gently against his stomach.

Fuck, he's pretty. Thick and pretty and long, the head's flushed a rosy shade of red, wet and glistening. You lean in a bit, not touching yet. You sigh and breathe warm air onto the weeping tip, and you swear you catch the way his dick twitches.

You're staring up at him, he can feel your gaze, but he can't even look at you. Aki leans back further, his weight resting on the heels of his palms. He overestimated how much of this he could handle, possibly. He'll go insane by the end of this, surely. You're not touching, you haven't touched yet. But he's still so hard and he just knows you're smiling, waiting for him to glance down at you so he can see it.

Steady droplets of precum drip down the length of him. His mind's a mess, he's so dizzy he can't think. You're cooing something he can hardly hear over the ringing in his ears, under your breath — Oh, sweetheart. — and suddenly the air gets so much thicker. The end of your thumb presses to the tip of his cock, rubbing right over the soaked slit, echoing soft, wet noises, sending needy pangs of pleasure straight through his system, and it's all too much.

Your voice is warm, soft around the edges. "Look at you. You're so thick, I got you so hard, huh? Look at how pretty you are."

"G-God…" Aki mumbles. The mattress bounces as he flops back-first onto the bed, an arm tossed over his face; this time, you gently squeeze the tip between your thumb and your index. You're coaxing more precum to coat your knuckles and your fingers, slick and shiny when it drips down and gets his dick nice and wet — "Don't, I- oh f-fuck…"

You're fisting the tip, gripping it in your palm and gently stroking — You grind it hard against your hand, squeeze and massage it between your fingers. Up and down, jerking him off by the tip, just the tip. A little faster, then. 'Til he can't only feel your touch, but hear it, too.

Wetness clings to your hand, slick on the head of his cock and sticky on your skin. Aki can't breathe. You're going faster, he's panting harder, louder. His back arches, clumsily bucking him into your touch, he tenses up and he feels so good, so amazing.

He could cum if you don't stop, just from this. He thinks by now, you probably know.

Having him at your mercy is as perfect as you could have ever expected it to be. He's so goddamn needy, terribly touch starved, he's longed for this for so long, and you want to give him everything. Everything he can handle, whatever he needs. Aki moans, desperate and guttural, he runs a clumsy hand through his hair. The hitches in his breath, the gasps and the whines belong to you and you alone.

If you could tease him for the rest of the night, watch him squirm and beg, see him cry from something other than his usual strife for a change, you'd be completely, utterly content.

Your palm pumps the head of his cock to a steady, eager rhythm. His breathing is shaky, it's over and over and over as he pants, desperate for air. Desperate for anything.

He's gonna cum, he's gonna cum already, all over your hand and the sheets and his own dick —

But despite how toying you can be, you are merciful.

You abruptly take your hand away, his length falls against his stomach. And Aki swears, he grunts a disgruntled-sounding fuck and takes loud, heavy breaths, his brows knotted, his jaw tensed.

"There," You say softly, though your spine still tingles at the sound of his voice, "I'll stop. Take a breather."

Aki lets out a sigh so heavy and long his lungs shake with the weight of it. He swallows, his voice sore. "I was close."

Merciful, no; you'd be merciful if you let him finish, but you haven't. And something tells him you won't, not until you're satisfied.

You tut, wiping your hand off onto the bedspread, "Uh-huh, I thought so. That's why I stopped. Come here, sit up again."

Aki stays still for a few moments longer, chest heaving. When he's mustered up the energy, he pushes himself up with a quiet grunt, fingers rubbing circles on his temple, pushing messy strands of hair away from his face. He shifts to sit onto the end of the bed again, squirming to get his briefs off and stepping out of them when they pool at his ankles. You snatch them up so they'll at least be off the floor, tossing them to the other end of the bed. Palm to his forehead, he feels how hot his face has gotten. Heat burns under his shoulders when he stretches and rolls them backward.

Elbows coming to rest on either of his thighs, you ask, "You alright?"

He's gonna have to be. Aki nods, glancing down towards you. "Yeah."

"You wanna keep going?"

Again, he answers, "Yes."

Carefully, you let your hand wrap around the thick base of his cock. You're barely touching, but it still gets him to shudder. The faint patch of his dark hair tickles your skin. Aki sighs, he tries to relax, leaning back and spreading his legs more. His heart hammers in his chest but his body feels limp, like he's weightless.

"Is this alright?" You're glancing up at him through your lashes, "Should I keep going?"

"Yes." Aki answers, "Please."

Whatever was stressing you out at the beginning of the night doesn't matter. All the worries and the boredom mean nothing, they don't exist anymore. You can hardly remember how you were feeling then, what was going through your head, you've ceased to think about any of it. This moment is the only thing you care about — Aki is the only one you care about.

Nothing else matters, nothing but the pretty look that overtakes his features once your hand grips harder and starts moving, nothing but the eager sigh he breathes out as a plea. Nothing is running though your mind but how perfect he feels in your palm: hard and silky and wet.

It's clearer now than it ever was before just how sensitive he is, his dick twitches when you drag your palm up, throbs like a heartbeat when you squeeze too firmly on the first upstroke. You're as gentle as you can be to ease him into it. You keep your hand nice and loose, stroke him up, down. You wait a few moments for him to get used to the feeling, and then continue again.

Being touched by you is what makes it all the more sweeter. Aki watches your movement with his breath already ragged, gaze flickering from your face to the work of your palm. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down to keep from falling apart.

The slow pace of your hand on his cock becomes more manageable the more he gets used to it. Peering up at him, you ask him a question you're sure you already know the answer to.

"Has anyone ever touched you like this before?"

It's nice to hear your voice again. The sound is familiar, oddly comforting to him. Aki gasps when your palm swipes the sensitive head, he answers with a quick and barely audible no. That'd make you the first.

The first to jerk him off, probably the first to see him like this. The first person to hear the way his voice sounds when it's breaking, the first to make him feel this way, the first to touch him here besides his own hand.

Maybe you're the first to kiss him, too. God, his first kiss.

You shouldn't say anything, but you can't seem to keep your mouth shut. "Was that your first kiss too? Earlier, I mean."

It's indulgent, definitely. Possessive. Wrong of you, even. There's something certainly wrong with how your heart gets way too fucking fluttery, simply from the thought of finding yourself as Aki's first kiss; you, of all people, a total stranger. You were able to charm him enough to let his guard down, he's enamored with you to the point of no return.

You aren't the type to act this way, you swear you aren't. But Aki makes everything easy. Is it so wrong of you to want to take his firsts for yourself?

Fortunately, Aki's oblivious enough to indulge you.

"No," He snaps, his voice threatens to waver, and you hate yourself for it, but you can't help but feel a slight, sudden tinge of disappointment. You take out the ire of that feeling by stroking his cock faster.

"Hhah," Aki trembles, pleasure rushes through his veins and he can barely keep his eyes open and focused on you. "Not- not the first. But- doesn't matter. I haven't… nothing like that. I haven't done anything like that."

You're smiling to yourself. "Yeah? Nothing as good, huh? You liked kissing me, didn't you?"

If you weren't busy making him feel so good, if your touch wasn't so perfect, if he could think somewhat straight instead of nowhere near the mark at all, maybe he would have started to wonder why you're asking him such stupid questions. But he doesn't.

"Yeah, yeah." Breath weighty in his lungs, a burning warmth spreads across the back of Aki's neck as your hand pumps his aching cock harder still, "S'good, so good. I… I want to- oh- Slow down, slow down, slow down…"

His gasps turn to soft, open-mouthed whines, he muffles them with his palm, he's so loud it's shameful. Your touch disappears when you take your hand away, embarrassment is a creeping warmth on the end of his spine and Aki shuts his eyes tight. He takes in quick, choppy breaths, trying to slow them to calm down. It's no use, the burn in his lungs has him panting sharp and shaky. He leans his head back, his hair tickles his shoulders. Tapping your fingers against his thigh, running them along the wake of gooseflesh, you graciously give him a couple seconds to compose himself.

"You okay?" You ask quietly.

Aki swallows, nods. His hands are shaking. He props himself back up and watches in timid silence as you lean in, pressing a feather-light kiss to where his hip bone juts out from his side. Sighing, eyelids fluttery, Aki resists the urge to reach out and touch you. You place another kiss onto his stomach, you squeeze his thigh at the same time, and you can't resist smiling from the breathy, meager noise that leaves his lips.

"Just relax. Take it easy." Hands at your sides, you speak slowly, calmly, until Aki is starting to mirror. "There's no reason to get so worked up. We've got all the time in the world."

Steady, Aki exhales the breath he was holding. His posture straightens, he keeps his gaze fixated on you and watches as you come into focus, the knots in his brain untangling themselves.

"I'll go slower this time." You say smoothly, "You'll be fine, focus on me. Okay?"

In response, Aki nods again, harder than before, more assured. His muscles loosen when he grabs his shoulder and squeezes, rolling the tension out beneath his palm. He shifts, getting comfortable. Once he's settled, gaze rested on you in waiting, that's when you finally return to him.

The budding warmth of him in your hand is a sensation you've grown used to, the gentle way his length pulses to the tune of his thudding heart are rhythmic enough to memorize. He's thick and heavy in your palm, already firm again when you stroke up, applying a slight pressure the closer you get to the head. Slick precum wets his slit, it drips onto your knuckles.

Aki wobbles, the bridge of his nose crinkles and creases. Spots of light paint the darkness in his vision, his eyes closing. He exhales, calms, and he only now realizes the way his knuckles ache from clenching them so hard. Easing up his hands, he drums his fingers against the bed to give himself something else to do with them, he tries as best he can to keep his mind from racing.

"There you go. Now you're relaxed." Your thumb gently brushes over the tip of his cock, Aki grits his teeth hard. "You've been so pent up, haven't you?"

He tries, but he can't speak without stuttering: "I'm, ah, a little-"

"When's the last time you touched yourself?"

"I-"

There's no way he can answer that. There's no reason to, either. But —

"I… I don't know." Aki's voice comes out softer than he wanted it to, weak and airy when the words leave his throat. Your hand's stopped, his heart pounds audibly his ears. You stare at him expectantly, and Aki's eyes nervously scan you up and down.

Your head tilts. "Too shy to tell me? That's okay."

"No," Aki snaps, "I can't remember, it's been a while. Maybe a few months ago? Sorry, is that a stupid answer?"

It might be, he doesn't know, but shame fades away to pleasure the moment your hand starts moving again.

True to your word, once your rhythm's started up once more, you're much slower, much more careful. Your strokes are shallow, they're teasing, the fluid motion of your wrist keeps him panting, but right under the edge of getting overwhelmed. Your focus stays on him to will Aki to do the same, eyes on his, his own gaze cloudy with need, with anticipation. You watch the persistent rise and fall of his chest in your peripheral.

"Is it 'cause you're too busy?"

"A little, I'm, hhah," Aki stutters when your hand twists and then squeezes, "A little busy. Ever since my boss made me… s-shit," A soft grunt, "Ever since they moved in with me, I haven't had any time alone."

Ever since they moved in with me, could he mean the trouble-makers from before?

"Awe, is that so?" You coo, "Poor thing."

Aki's lips purse, his eyelids flutter, he nods his head and mutters a mix between a whine and a quiet mhmm.

Your voice is sweet, heady like liquor, "It must've been forever since you last had some alone time, you're so sensitive. All you want is to be taken care of, don't you?"

Head spinning, breath hot and sharp when it enters his lungs, Aki blinks away the blur taking over the edges of his vision. He tries not to choke at the sight of your delicate fingers wrapped right around his cock. Sensitive is exactly what he is when your palm caresses the fat head, making him gasp, his arms and his shoulders shivering, warmth in his chest and a fire underneath his veins.

Aki sighs, "Yeah." He does. He wants to be taken care of, wants to be treated softly by you.

"It's hard, huh? Hard to always have to be so strong." The heel of your palm rubs harder into his cockhead and Aki groans, tosses his head back until his hair is making a mess in his eyes. The smile on your face is deceptively innocent, "It's hard when you're a devil hunter. Even harder when you don't get all the love you deserve. You just wanna feel loved and safe and cared for. Isn't that right?"

Right. You're right. And truthfully, he's never realized how badly he needed this until now, until he met you.

It's so hard, every new day he spends slaughtering devils becomes harder and harder, and Aki wants to be weak, to let go, like you're all he has. He's spent so long in hell he didn't realize how much he craved to feel a dose of heaven. He couldn't have imagined the way he'd end up, or could have predicted where he is now, alone with you while all his senses spark alight, his heart in your waiting hands.

But he doesn't regret anything. He's stupid, really stupid, stupid and insatiable and everything he thought he couldn't be — and he loves every second of it.

Aki swallows. "Yeah, I want to." Trembling, and then steady, "But I already do. You make me- you're making me feel so…"

You think your heart might explode.

Your lips can't help but twist into a smile, you let your palms wander to give his thighs a playful squeeze. "You're such a sweetheart."

Aki opens his mouth, he realizes he doesn't know what to say half-way through.

So you continue on instead, "You think you can do something for me?"

"Uh," He clears his throat, "Sure."

You reach for his wrist, gripping it tight, dragging him closer.

"C'mere."

Your hand guides his own — much larger than yours, the difference in size between his and your palms is way more noticeable when your hands are pressed to one another — and carefully, your hand wrapping back around his waiting cock, you bring his own hand to lay on top of yours. His palm brushes over your knuckles, his fingers twitch and jitter before they settle. His glance flickers towards you, gaze expectant, his lips slightly parted; your words are the only thing to finally crush his confusion.

"Show me."

"Huh?"

"Show me how you touch yourself," You instruct, "I wanna see how you make yourself feel good."

"Ah-" Aki's voice cracks, he looks away, fights the urge to take his hand away, too, "What you were doing was fine, you don't need to- I don't-"

You interrupt when Aki starts to trail off, "Please, Aki?"

Funny how those few words are enough to make him start to forget why he ever wanted to object in the first place. Your eyes are big and pretty, practically sparkling. You tilt your head and fucking hell, he's never going to be able to resist you, is he? He exhales, letting out the biggest, longest sigh of exasperation.

"Don't take it too seriously," You're saying. You laugh a little, and it makes your nose scrunch in a way Aki finds so endearing, "It'll be fun, I swear. You'll enjoy this. Relax, alright?"

Aki scoffs, breathing a soft tsk, mostly to himself. He gives you one more glance, pleading look and all. His shoulders slump, he pushes his bangs from his face with his other hand and sighs again, in defeat this time.

"Okay," He answers, "Alright."

Warmth burns hard in the apples of his cheeks. He bites down firmly on his bottom lip to steady himself, his fingers flex as he curls his hand around yours more comfortably. He glances towards you, shyly glances back down. Slowly, his palm begins to guide yours.

And Aki moves, touching himself with your own hand.

The languid rhythm he sets isn't much different from how your own was; he takes your hand up, down, lazy and smooth. He adjusts, spreading his legs wider to get a better grip. You stay focused on him, your expression soft, intoxicating, near impossible to look away from. Aki tries to ignore his nerves when he feels them inching up his spine, he closes his eyes to make it easier, his head slightly tossed back as he concentrates on your gentle palm, on the way your pretty hand jerks him off.

The feeling is similar to before, similar to when he'd do this by himself. But at the same time, it's different — It'll always be different, because it's your hand instead of his.

Your palm is smaller, much more delicate. He'd noticed the difference between you when you first started touching him. Hell, he knew how small your hand was compared to his own when you first grabbed it all those hours ago. The thought then made his heart pound. The sensation of it now makes him ache.

You don't have the calluses he does, or the scars, the bruises. Your touch is tender. Your touch is nothing like what he thinks he deserves, everything he could have ever longed for. His body's warm when the idea of you shakes inside his feeble chest and even weaker head. The look in your eyes makes him want to say something, to tell you how you make him feel, to explain how desperately he's longed for you. He can't come up with anything worthwhile. Soft, wet sounds fill the empty space instead.

His knuckles are filthy already. He catches a steady dribble of precum when he drags your hand up, he brings your palm over the tip and makes it slicker. Gentle breaths pair with every slow pump of his arm. His brows furrow each time he strokes to the top, his expression relaxes when he takes your touch back down. A prominent vein in his wrist bulges out each time he squeezes.

Aki can feel your gaze on him, even with his eyes closed. He's tried to stay composed. Tried not to lose whatever was left of his mind, but it's no use, it's never been. Even though he's the one guiding you, even though he's setting the pace, you're the one holding all the control — You could tell him to do absolutely anything right now and he would. One last word, one more please and he'd give all of himself to you, everything that remains.

Your voice is calming, quiet. He was almost beginning to miss what it sounded like: "You're so gentle. Do you go any faster?"

"No, I usually… I start off slow." Aki answers, the heat beneath his cheeks blossoming brighter. Strong enough to burn him alive, but he forces himself to continue through, "I've gotta get… used to it," He breathes a shaky gasp, timid hand leading your palm until you swipe over the needy tip of his cock, "Shit, so sensitive."

"You think about anything when you're doing this by yourself? Maybe someone you like?"

Aki exhales, he gulps hard enough to shake his Adam's apple, dragging your hand back down to the hilt, "I don't like anyone that way."

With his eyes still closed, he hasn't been able to tell, but when your warm breath fans over his aching length, hot and fuzzy and so much but at the same time, nothing at all — He can feel how close you've leaned in.

You continue, "Do you think about having sex?"

"No. I guess not." Aki lets his eyes open, he stares up at the ceiling. His chest expands with the deep gulp of air he takes, "I focus on the feeling. Let my mind go blank. I don't really think about anything."

A coy smirk tugs at the corners of your cheeks.

Perfect. This'll be another first, then.

"You wanna try thinking about it?" Your eyes meet his own when Aki glances down, he starts to say something but interrupts himself with a sharp breath in when you give his cock a teasing squeeze, deviating from his instructions. Yet he doesn't look away.

"Think about," He grunts, playing dumb, "Think about what?"

"While I'm touching you, why don't you think about having sex with me?"

Aki's eyes go wide. His mouth falls open, lips slightly ajar. He freezes in place, his expression twists from disbelief to something apprehensive.

"I can't do that." He's matter-of-fact with his answer. Stern, surely positive. If you knew any better you'd think he was scolding you. You'll change his mind very, very quickly.

"Sure you can. Here, my turn," You bat his hand away, leaving just yours touching, and Aki awkwardly hovers it in the air for a few long seconds before hesitantly placing it back down at his side. "What, are you too nervous?"

"Somewhat."

"Well, don't be."

"That doesn't help."

"I bet it's 'cause you're one of those people, like you have a bad imagination," You chuckle, the sound bubbly and light, "I'll help you out, don't worry. Lean back, close your eyes if you have to. All you have to do is try and picture what I tell you."

Aki blinks once, twice.

"Think you can do that for me? Pleeease. Just try."

With a disgruntled, loud exhale through his nose, he finally gives in. You're smiling wider as he shifts back, relaxing, resting his weight on his palms, and allowing his eyes to flutter shut.

"You ready?"

Aki nods, "Yeah. Keep going."

His hands clench the moment your palm starts stroking him again. The tension leaves his limbs like an ebbing wave; quick, anxious beats of his heart turn into loud, thudding echoes he can feel deep in his chest and hear in his ears. Your touch is deliberate, his cock is aching and sensitive; a few pumps of your hand are enough to get him hard around your fingers already, breathing in short pants, utterly desperate.

"Think about, hm," The pad of your thumb rubs circles into his cockhead, and Aki shivers, gritting his teeth firmly to get himself to focus. You're continuing, "Think about me and you. We're at your place. In your bedroom."

Listen, focus. Aki takes a steady inhale in, out, trying as best he can manage to bring a picture to the scene.

It would be dark, the lights off. The moon would hang high in the night sky. Your figure bathed in shadow, you'd be spread out over his navy blue bed sheets, arms sprawled above you, reaching up towards the headboard. His alarm clock would tick, tick, tick. The sounds of the city fill his bedroom's empty space: the low hum of distant sirens, the rumble of the trains. The cacophony which would inevitably come from his not-a-guest-room-anymore guest room would quickly drown out everything.

He wonders if the two of you would ever get a moment alone. He'd push his dresser in front of his bedroom door because it doesn't have a lock. He'd kick the two idiots out for the day — No, no, they'd just come walking in anyways, ruining everything, because whatever Aki says not to do is exactly what they end up doing.

It's giving him a headache. His face is starting to tense up, eyebrows knitted, jaw clenched. You notice. "Don't overcomplicate things."

Aki huffs. "I'm trying."

From the base to the head, your hand strokes his dick, squeezing harder the closer you get to the tip until precum is wet on his slit and he's covering his mouth to muffle the sound of a soft whine. God, how is he this fucking sensitive?

The smoothness of your voice is his only tether to reality. "Let's try something else, maybe."

"I… I'm sorry," Aki's thighs twitch, his head spins. He lets go of his held breath, his hips shift from restlessness. "Alright."

"It's okay. Relax. Just try your best."

Aki breathes in. "Okay."

"How about you think of us right here? Y'know, maybe a little while from now on." Your hand pumps his cock faster, and Aki feels his pulse thrum rampant in his throat. "I'm on top of you, your hands are on my waist. Picture me in your lap like I was before, picture me touching you, just like this."

Gulping, he answers again, "Okay. I got it."

And he tries.

This new scene is easier to imagine now. You'd be on top of him, the neon light of the room frames your silhouette from behind you. All your clothes would be off, and his, too. You're pressed close to his own body with your skin warm, shimmering from sweat. Your hair is a mess, you're taking up every corner of his vision until you're the only thing he can perceive. One of your hands lays softly on his cheek; your phantom touch feels as real and as perfect as what he's come to be familiar with.

You'd grip and stroke him, just the same as in this moment. Your delicate palms would caress his neck, the length of his shoulders, down his chest. You'd brush his messy bangs from his eyes and kiss him on the corner of his mouth, gentle, but teasing enough to make him woozy.

He'll get to that point with you tonight if he isn't careful. These ideas in his head are very much real. That only makes them all the more intoxicating.

This time, your voice comes out at barely more than a whisper: "Are you imagining it? Thinking of me touching you? I'd make you feel so good, Aki. And then, I'd offer to make you feel even better."

Every thought in his head spins in circles, never getting anywhere. Aki focuses on your touch, on each pleasurable pump of your hand on his length.

"Yeah, yeah," Aki sighs, breath trembling, "When I think about it, I- Oh, fuck-"

When you'd grab him by his waist and sink down on him, skin against skin once he's all the way inside, when you'd wrap your arms around his shoulders and ride his aching cock until your rhythm of sighs are a mantra in his ear; he'd follow along, gripping you tight, fucking up into you as much as it takes to get you louder — Aki groans. He covers his face with both hands, he can't stop himself from rocking his hips into your touch, grinding his cock into your palm, desperate for more friction.

He's breathless, he feels filthy, his mind can't stop conjuring the thought of you pressed close to him, your fingers running through his hair, plush lips pressed to his nape while he's buried deep inside you. God, he's terrible, he's dirty for imagining this, and yet he can't fucking stop. What the hell is he doing?

Aki pictures how you'd coo into his ear, how the tones to your voice that he's already managed to memorize would echo sweet gasps and even sweeter utterances of his name. You'd cling to each syllable like it's special as you say it for him, over and over again. Aki, Aki, Aki.

Please, Aki. I need you.

He's losing his mind. The sensible half of him tells him he needs to get a grip. But it's a little hard, impossible, even, to do so when your hand is stroking his needy cock, and when his whole body feels light, when he's gotten so hard he's practically aching. His thighs are trembling, his heart is beating wild inside his chest.

So, he decides he won't stop you. Aki grunts low in his throat, his eyes flutter open, but he closes them again when a glimpse at your pretty face staring up at him only makes the picture in his head even clearer.

He knows you're smirking now.

"Does it feel good?" You purr, and it's in that same sweet voice he was imagining, "You thinking about fucking me?"

"Y-Yes…" Aki answers, panting, hesitant and quiet, like he's almost hoping you won't end up hearing him.

But you do, "Yeah? Tell me what you're thinking of."

Your hand pumps him firmly, he's slick, silky underneath your touch; the sound it makes every time you drag upward is indecent, disgustingly wet. Precum drips from his cockhead in steady droplets. You swipe the tip with your palm and coat the rest of his length in his arousal.

Aki's words are shaky: "You're… you're on top of me. And you're kissing me, and I'm- I…"

You squeeze him harder, the rest of whatever he was trying to say catches in his throat and he nearly chokes, his shoulders tense. He can't even think anymore, and he couldn't possibly say anything to you when he cracks his eyes open and meets your gaze — for only a few moments, but enough to make pleasure boil hotter and deeper in the pit of his stomach, warmth traveling up the length of his spine.

He tries to speak, just one more time. His sentence barely starts before he's cutting himself off, gasping and sputtering, blown out pupils hidden behind fluttering eyelids. His bottom lip trembles alongside every ragged breath he takes.

You wanted for him to keep going. Wanted to hear him tell you all about how that sweet head of his imagined taking you — and you're normally patient enough to wait. Up until now, you've been unbelievably patient. You can't deny you like dragging things out with him, you enjoy watching him beg and squirm as he tries his best to keep up. You should give him time, let him have another break, and normally, you would. Normally.

Aki swallows, he pushes his hair from his face and it's clear his hand is shaking. His palm lingers, hiding the scarlet hue to his cheeks. He mumbles a muffled swear, he sighs out the softest please, and as you find yourself leaning in closer, you finally lose the last of your restraint.

He feels the tickle of your breath on his length first, warm and devilishly subtle. His fingers twitch, he swallows again to chase away the dryness in his throat, harder this time. He can't look. Then, there's the faint ghost of your lips, and as they press ever-so gently to the thick tip of his cock, kissing it softly, that's when Aki practically melts.

His shoulders slump, his head tilts back. Tingles rack his nerves, his heart pumps fast, hard. He can barely focus on anything but the feeling, too caught up with how you're starting to trail sloppy kisses down his cock; you kiss the right side, lean over and kiss the left. You admire the way his dick throbs beneath your lips, pulsing to the tune of his breathing: sharp, quick, and desperate.

There's something so tender about your touch, softness in intensity. There's a feeling budding deep in his center he can't begin to get enough of every time he sees you on your knees, between his legs, a saccharine look in the back of your eyes. When you continue to press warm kisses to his length, palm on his thigh to keep him steady, desire wells hot in his chest. He wants to touch you, hold you, keep you closer than anything he's ever had before because he needs this, needs you. God, does he need you.

Your kisses travel up the sensitive underside of his cock, and as your tongue swipes right under the head, Aki fists the sheets so hard he feels his joints ache.

"F-Fuck," The pleasure's practically overwhelming, Aki pants forcefully as if his lungs are pleading for air, "Fuck, oh God- please, I-"

Voice wobbling and fraying, he can hardly speak; the tip of your tongue flicks against his cockhead, wet and teasing, and he's done, utterly done for.

His entire body shivers, he sighs out whines too high-pitched for his usual tone. Your gaze flutters up, and Aki's sweating, quite literally dripping with sweat. Droplets cascade down his jaw, his chest shiny, skin glistening. Despite his best efforts, his hair has made a mess around his face again. His pulse is quick enough to feel, pounding feverishly in his ears.

Your hand pumps his cock fast. It's wetter now, slick from the mix of your saliva and his precum. He lets his eyes roll back, his mouth falling open. He moans at your touch, broken and feeble, loud enough that the room over would hear if the walls weren't already soundproof.

His taste is salty on your tongue when you swirl it around his tip, heady, taking over your senses. You lick his cockhead until he starts to go dizzy, quick flicks of your tongue making him twitch. You close your lips around, sucking softly when you feel him throb — and to your satisfaction, he only throbs harder. An incessant, needy pulse, he breathes deeper with the same sort of weight, gasping forcefully. He spreads his legs open as wide as they'll go, and leans further backward.

It feels so fucking good. He's shaking, his thighs and his hands trembling. You kiss him again, lips on the warm length of his cock, and his palms fly up to shyly cover his face, his stomach flexes — You know he's close.

And you were just getting started.

"Don't cum yet."

Lips hovered a centimeter away, you breathe the words onto his sensitive tip, the sensation sharper now that he's coated in your saliva. As your hand twists up the length of his cock, squeezing, he groans in a mix of pleasure and disappointment. You're quiet, and you almost think he didn't end up hearing you, but with his eyes shut tight and his temple creased, he finally answers, frantically shaking his head.

"No, no…" Aki pleads, he's full-blown whining, his voice is weak and trembles like he'll cry. When you abruptly let go of him, taking your hand away to leave him throbbing against nothing, his bottom lip quivers and he practically sobs.

"No, please, you can't… Please don't stop, I wanna- oh, please, please."

Only a few seconds without you, and he's needy already, dribbling precum while his thighs shake; his face is flushed with vibrant warmth, and his head dips to hide it, eyelids fluttering between open and closed. His hair falls around his pretty pierced ears, the ends of them burning in shades of pink and red. He pants, chest heaving, up, down.

"Awe, c'mon. You've been so good for me up 'til now." You offer him the smallest reprieve when your lips press against his cock in a faint kiss, and he can't help but whimper softly. "Try and hold out for a little bit longer."

Aki's voice sounds pathetic when it lilts, "I- I can't. I'm so close."

"I know you can, you'll do it for me, right?" You're purring, pleading, but it's less of a plea when you're already sure he'll do everything you tell him to. "Please, try?"

And you're right. There isn't a single possibility where he'd ever be able to say no to you.

Aki's mind goes foggy as all the blood rushes to his head, making him dizzy. He wants to cum on your tongue or your hand or wherever you'll let him so goddamn badly it's the only thing he can think about, and the thought of having to hold out for any longer is enough to send him reeling.

He's not sure how much more of this he can take, even if he tried. The smallest touch from you and he thinks he'll explode. Every part of his body is tense, begging for release.

But he can't say no. He couldn't. He won't, because it's you. Because you're sweet and perfect, because you promised to take care of him and he trusts that, trusts you. You know he can, and it's all he needs to hear.

Aki sighs in defeat. He meets your gaze, his eyes glossy with tears that haven't fallen yet; he blinks hastily to do away with them, and he nods his head, giving in.

You smile. You smile, and it makes everything worthwhile.

"Breathe, okay?" Your thumb rubs slow circles onto his tip, a tingly warm feeling returns to his gut, "Take deep breaths. I'm gonna take care of you. It'll feel so good when you finally finish, I promise."

Aki steadies himself, rubbing his temple with his fingers. He rolls his shoulders back, loosening them.

"Go slow," He says at last. He swallows, still slightly shaky, "Go slow or I'll cum."

Eagerly, your lips pressing to the warm head of his cock, you mutter a muffled mhmm. The noise sends pleasant vibrations down his length, and Aki groans quietly, urging you on.

Your hand grips the base of his cock to keep him situated. The promise you made to take care of him comes in the form of your wet tongue pressed flat on the underside, hand slowly pumping his length to get him ready, and your eyes closing as you start to take him into your mouth.

He's thick. He makes your throat tense up the more of him you try to swallow. You're unprepared for this, the same as he is. You shouldn't push yourself, but when he feels this perfect in your mouth, and when he's sighing, making such pretty noises already, you just aren't able to resist.

And even though tears are pricking at your lashes and your throat aches like you're going to choke, you need to hear more, give him more — You don't stop until you're at least halfway down. Until your hand is doing the rest of the work, and Aki's rewarding you with a whine, then a cute hitched gasp. He keeps his hands clenched at his sides, veins protruding from his knuckles when he fists the sheets and grips.

And God, is he hard, he must be aching. He won't stop throbbing to a rapid rhythm even once you're pulling back, sucking hard on the tip before sinking down when you're itching to feel him in your mouth again. His taste is addicting, strong, and you lick all the way up his length, drooling a mess of saliva onto his cock. You flick your tongue at his slit and breathe cool air onto him, watching the way he squirms. He'll cum soon if you aren't careful.

But Aki is pliant, despite your teasing. He's good. He can wait.

Even though he's already overwhelmed, he lets you place messy kisses all over his dick, he glances down and his gaze connects with yours as you're taking him back into your mouth — You're all droopy eyelids and soft eyes, his heart stops the moment you look at him, but now you're swallowing his cock down to the hilt and he can't look away. Can't do anything, in fact. Anything but hopelessly feel his breath come in short pants, gasping to the same tune as the lovely patter in his warm chest.

You keep your face buried in his pelvis until you start to get lightheaded. You're hollowing your cheeks, gently sucking while you pull back. And when you go down again, screwing your eyes shut and whimpering weakly around him from the pace you've set, Aki moans loud. You bob your head on his cock and his noises partially drown out your own: quiet gags, wet sputters.

Your head goes up and down, you drag upward to give yourself a break and catch your breath. Reaching for his hand, your tongue swirling around the head, your eyes half-open, you grip his wrist. You guide his palm to rest on the back of your head and sink back down at the same time. He keeps it there, shaky and hesitant at first, but when you gag on him and he suddenly needs something to hold onto, he's gripping tightly at your hair, his knuckles flexing.

This is debauched, and he knows it. You've given up on holding back, the noises you're making and the sight of you is downright disgusting, spit glistening on your lips and his shaft, your eyes shut, choking feebly as you suck him off. Your cheeks are wet with tears, and he reaches to brush them away with his thumb.

He knows, but he doesn't want you to stop, you can't stop. Holding your face in his hand, he admires you, unable to look away. You're gorgeous, your pretty eyes teary, your mouth on his cock. He's felt more in this moment than he has in forever — or perhaps he's never felt anything so intense, never been this tender-hearted. Not until you. With you, it begins and it ends, always.

You've got his dick down your throat, and all Aki can think about is how much he adores you.

Your pace increases, teetering on the edge of what you can handle. The tip of his cock rubs the soft inside of your cheek. Then, you're grabbing his thighs, coaxing them apart more and gripping them for leverage. You swirl your tongue as you take him, forgetting the need to breathe in order to lavish him as much as you want to, as much as he deserves.

The way it feels, fuck, the way it sounds — Aki is sure he could never hope to get your voice out of his mind, the hums you make when he rubs the back of your head affectionately, brushing your hair from your face with his fingers. The chokes you utter as you take him deeper, deeper. You're close to crying, but you aren't stopping, you don't stop because you're too addicted.

He's overwhelming every time he fills your throat, but you love this too much: the noises he makes through his teeth, the blissed out look on his face. You peer up at him through your lashes, your vision blurry, and Aki's gaze is heavy, locked onto yours. His bangs are a thick mess around his forehead, his chest rises and falls. The ragged melody of his breathing fills your ears; you're obsessed with his taste, with the soft touch of his hand on the back of your head.

His grip on your hair tightens. You stop for a moment, pulling back and placing a kiss to his needy cockhead, to which Aki instantly huffs a sigh of relief. Your gaze on his, you keep your tone at barely more than a whisper.

You ask him, "How's it feel?"

"Good," Aki's voice cracks like he's forgotten how to speak, "Feels good."

"Yeah? Keep talking to me."

You trail your tongue up his length, he's already soaked with your drool; you lick a stripe across the thick head and his fingers start to shake.

"Your mouth is- it's warm," He starts, already panting, swallowing thickly, his throat dry, "Pretty, you're so pretty. Can you- please, ah- yeah, that's it…"

Your lips close around him, and you take him back into your mouth, giving him just what he was hoping for. Aki feels all of his muscles tense, then relax. Working the rest of his cock with your hand, you run your tongue along his length's underside, licking and swirling, 'til he's in heaven.

"Oh, fuck- just like that," He encourages, his words shaky. Watching you try so hard to please him fills him with a bubbly warm sense of adoration, "I'm close, really close, I- oh- don't stop…"

His head tosses back, his moans are loud and desperate. Your mouth is irresistibly warm, so wet, your chokes send the most pleasant vibrations over his cock and make it impossible to try to speak. Your head bobs up and down recklessly as you focus on him and his pleasure alone. The rest of your mind is utterly blank. His grip grows stronger close to your scalp, so tight it nearly stings. He loosens his hold when he realizes he doesn't want to hurt you.

Fog in his head and a pounding in his heart, he's getting restless, impulsive, starting to move more — Aki clumsily bucks his hips up the next time you sink down, the slightest movement forcing him further down your throat, added pleasure making him moan, deep and guttural. He gasps, thighs trembling. He starts meeting the bobs of your head with gentle thrusts into your mouth, and he's so out of it you're not even sure if he realizes what he's doing.

Aki can't think, his head is spinning too fast, everything is dizzy. There's no way he can hold back any longer but he couldn't bother to care, he's so close and your pretty wet mouth feels so good and he needs to cum, God he needs to cum —

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," Aki begs in slurs of words and stuttered gasps, a roll of his hips fucking him deeper into your mouth. His vision is going white, he's struggling to keep looking at you; eyes watering, like he might cry, "Please, don't-"

You drag off of his cock with a strong suck and a pop of your lips, his pleasure wavers and wanes, but then comes back to him strong as ever once your hand twists and squeezes at the base of his cock, moving upward. Your tongue swirls over the sensitive head, your gaze flickers up to meet his own. And you have your eyes on his, tongue greedily flicking his flushed cockhead, warm soft stare the sweetest thing he's ever seen — and that's enough. You suck on the tip with a harsh, wet sound and he's melting, heat rushing his system all at once.

"I'm- I c-can't," He sounds pathetic, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-"

Pleasure buds and explodes in the pit of his stomach, you hum around him in approval, soft vibrations enough to burst that final bubble; Aki whimpers, chokes on air, and then he's throwing his head back, gasping hard. His Adam's apple bobs solid in his throat, his cock twitches and his hands shake. You hold your breath and sink down on him, warmth enveloping his length as he cums in your mouth.

The feeling hits you before the taste. Thick and warm, heady on your tongue, his dick throbbing steadily through his release. Your temple knots up in your efforts not to swallow. You grip his thighs and squeeze them tightly, admiring the cracks in his voice, the lilts of his moans. Desperate ah's and quiet swears strain his normally smooth tone into a weak, high-pitched mess. If he sounds this good when he cums for you, you aren't going to be able to stop here.

How much you've teased him shows in how much he has to give you, his cum quickly fills your mouth and forces you to pull back. Even once you do, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, it's still dribbling from his cock, such a mess. His dick is slippery and soaked from your saliva, his skin caked in sweat. Your head clears slowly, it gets easier to breathe. You watch Aki pant with a placid expression on his face, an expression you've never seen on him before, lips parted and his eyes barely open. His arms quiver slightly, trembling from the aftershocks.

His head spins, his heart pounds until it calms. His cheeks blister with warmth, his chest aches from the weight of his breaths. He reaches up, running a palm over his face, rubbing his eyes — his vision goes fuzzy, then returns after he blinks — and he pushes messy strands of hair away, tucking them behind his ears. When he glances down at you, you're already looking up at him. There's a slight smile on your face, captivating as ever.

Pretty, you're so pretty.

continue reading on ao3

hello! I'm sorry to have to cut the fic off here, but unfortunately tumblr won't allow the entirety of this chapter to be posted because it's so fucking long... if you like it so far and you want to read the rest pls consider hopping over to ao3... thank you 🫂

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa smut #chainsaw man smut #aki x you #aki hayakawa x you

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redrose10 · 6 months

Text

Here is chapter 1! I hope you like it. Chapter 2 will come out in a few days. Comments are appreciated!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word Count: 1,693

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

The weather outside did not match the feeling in the conference room. Outside the window you saw the bright sunny sky, not a cloud in sight. You longed for the warmth to touch your skin. Inside this room you felt cold. The walls were a dark cherry mahogany. A marble sculpture of a horse sat in the corner. You’re sure it cost more than a years worth salary for you. You chewed on your lip, a nervous habit you developed at some point. Everyone was patiently waiting for the same person to arrive so you could finally get this over with. Never would you have imagined you’d be in a position like this. Being married off to a man you’d never met. You knew of him of course. Who didn’t? Min Yoongi was the CEO of one of the largest tech companies in the world. He was the sole heir to a large fortune being that the Min family was one of the most powerful and wealthiest families in all of Asia. He was dangerously handsome with an arrogant attitude. A womanizer who was constantly in the media and not in a positive way. Just a few months ago we was caught on camera being tossed out of a club for punching the bartender. The video showed him staggering around so drunk he could barely stand straight. He shouted some choice words before shoving three random women into the back of his Rolls Royce and having the driver speed off. Of course the poor bartender didn’t even file any charges knowing he’d never win against the Min family power and money.

Shareholders started worrying about Yoongi’s ability to lead the company, some even demanding he step down. People were uncertain if they should invest in a company run by a sloppy drunk with clear emotional baggage. Stocks in Min Enterprises began to plummet which meant the Min family money started to dwindle and only then did they decide it was time to step in. Which is how you ended up here, sitting across from Yoongi’s parents and some of the other higher ranking officials at Min Enterprises. They had come to the conclusion that it was time for Yoongi to settle down. He needed to find a nice wholesome woman who could help him clean up his image, turn his life around, maybe have a future heir and turn himself into a well respected family man. The problem with that was that Yoongi had never lasted more than a couple weeks with any woman since he was about 19. Often going for quick hookups with women he met at clubs or random models he got ahold of that just wanted to use his name to further their career. In his mind it was easier. No strings attached. No chance of falling in love. No heartbreak. Just sex and send them on their way.

You were a simple girl. You didn’t come from money or power. You loved flowers, blue hydrangeas were your favorite. You often enjoyed a mug of warm milk before bed or maybe some chamomile tea if you were feeling adventurous. Most of your clothes were thrifted and definitely not name brands. You’d only ever had one serious boyfriend and less than four flings. You were the exact opposite of Yoongi and the women you often saw him photographed with.

Which is exactly why the Min family thought you were the perfect match to save their wayward son and bring a good reputation back to the Min name. You had no one else to thank but your old college roommate and best friend Jimin. After graduation he moved away but you kept in touch with each other. One day you get a voicemail from your friend asking you to come visit him in Korea. After calling him back and him assuring you the trip was all expenses paid by himself you agreed. Little did you know of the secret motive. Jimin had moved to Seoul after graduation, quickly getting a job at Min Enterprises. He started as just an assistant to Yoongi’s assistant. Over time Jimin was able to work his way up and was now a member of the board of directors and one of Yoongi’s best friends. When Jimin heard of the Min family plan he immediately thought of you and threw your name into the contenders ring as a potential suitor for Yoongi. You had recently complained about wanting to get out of your small town and Jimin recalled several instances where you mentioned your ever failing love life and non existent bank account so what better way to get around that than to marry a handsome young billionaire.

Your thoughts were interrupted when someone cleared their throat. Looking up you were greeted by the handsome face of Kim Seokjin, one of the Min family lawyers. “Can we be expecting Yoongi any time today?”, he asked probably more sarcastically than he had planned. As the elder Mr. Min started reaching for his phone the large double doors swung open and swiftly slammed shut as the man you were all waiting for stomped over and took his seat next to you, clearly agitated at having to be there.

You knew that Yoongi was handsome, most of the world knew that, but seeing him in person was different than any photos you’d ever seen. Soft perfect skin, piercing cat like eyes, silky jet black hair that he had started to let grow out. He was wearing a fitted dark green suit that probably cost more than every piece of clothing you owned. His cologne intoxicating, a mix of cinnamon and vanilla. He smelled like comfort and warmth.

When he realized you were staring at him he looked over at you turning to a face of disgust before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the lawyer, “Jin, can we get this over with? I have more important events to attend to.” You watched the lawyer lay out several sheets of paper in front of the two of you. “Right so these are the basics of the contract. It’s pretty standard. The Min family will release an official statement announcing the marriage of their only son Yoongi and Miss Y/N. The wedding will take place shortly after.” You watched as Jin turned to you placing an additional paper down in front of you and pointing to the stipulations as he read them off, “Y/N you will take the Min last name. You will move into Yoongi’s penthouse. You will agree to attend all social and/or professional functions with Yoongi and occasionally you will have to go alone as the Min representative. You will be given a credit card to make any and all purchases for any thing you need or want. And lastly you will uphold a satisfactory image as to not taint the Min image. Also please be aware that a divorce is not an option and the contract will only become nullified in the event that either Yoongi or Y/N were to pass away leaving the other as a widow.” You nodded in understanding while staring down at the list of demands in front of you. Things could be worse you thought but this still wasn’t ideal, especially not having the option for a divorce.

Jin turned his attention over to Yoongi placing a similar paper down in front of him and going over his stipulations which were much simpler than yours, basically don’t get caught with other women and don’t get drunk in public. You scoffed knowing that he would struggle to uphold his end of the contract. You were blindsided though when Jin read off the final stipulation, “After the wedding Yoongi will make an initial donation in his and Y/N’s name in the amount of $5 million US dollars to ‘Little Rays of Sunshine Orphanage’ in Y/N’s hometown. Then he will make an additional $1 million donation every year thereafter for the duration of the marriage.” Your lips turned up into a small smile. You had jokingly told Jimin that you’d agree to this whole ordeal if Yoongi donated a large amount of money to the orphanage that you grew up in. You didn’t think he’d actually get it done but you were a little relieved knowing that at least going through with this was going to benefit many children in need. You made a mental note to thank Jimin later. Deep in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed how Yoongi had looked over at you with furrowed brows questioning that request.

Jin placed a pen down in front of you before clapping his hands together, “Alright now that that’s out of the way the two of you just need to sign and date here and here and we can all go on with our day.” Trying your best to hide your shaking hand you gently grasped the ivory pen taking a deep breath before signing away your life to this man you met less than 15 minutes ago. Handing the pen over to Yoongi he glared at you before releasing a loud sigh and roughly taking the pen from your grasp signing away his name. Once it was done Mrs. Min began to speak but was cutoff by Yoongi loudly pushing his chair back and slamming the pen down on the glass table, “I have places to be.” And with that he stormed out of the room loudly slamming the door behind him. Mr. And Mrs. Min along with the rest of the elders followed not long after giving you a nod goodbye. You looked up to Jin who gave you an apologetic smile. He patted your hand as he continued to pack up his belongings, “He’ll come around Y/N. Just give it some time. He puts on a tough act but underneath that harsh exterior is really a sweet kid who got lost along the way.” Going into this you thought maybe this could actually work out and the two of you could at the very least pretend to love each other. Now, after meeting for the first time, you’re not so sure.

#yoongi x reader #bts #bts yoongi #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #ceo au #arranged marriage au #yoongi fic #bts fanfic #suga #min yoongi #yoongi #bts x reader

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stories-and-chaos · 4 months

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Shrike: Drinks with Mimzy

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[One shot, word count 1587. Cw: aphobia, alcoholism, cursing]

——————

The day after Lucifer’s visit, you went hunting. Not for souls or deals. Or…well one soul and in particular. And you didn’t intend to make a deal with this one. It took some time, checking various bars and clubs. You didn’t know which ones she was likely to frequent nowadays; being an Overlord didn’t give you much chance to go bar hopping with girlfriends.

So it wasn’t until early evening that you found her. Sitting at the bar, clearly tipsy, nursing another glass of whiskey, and bitching to the clearly annoyed bartender was Mimzy. You watched her finish her latest glass. “Gimme another one a these sugar.”

“Make that two, cher.” You came up next to Mimzy and slid a bill to the bartender. He looked even more annoyed at the idea of there being two whiny bitches at his bar but he got your drinks. “Thanks cher,” you said with a smile.

Mimzy glared at you. “Ugh, the fuck do you want?” It didn’t stop her from grabbing the drink you paid for.

“What, I can’t buy my friend a drink or five?” You expected hostility but damn. This seemed excessive. Fortunately you knew the way into her good graces: free drinks.

“Friends?!” she growled. “You come here saying we’re ‘friends’ after what your husband just pulled on me?!”

You sipped your whiskey, doing your best to let her fury wash over you. “From what I saw, Alastor pulled you out of yet another situation, and told you to take off because your problem trashed the place.”

“Like those sharks made much of a difference to that tacky joint. If anything I did you bastards a favor, free demolition.” She laughed nastily and finished her drink. You caught the bartender’s attention and nodded to Mimzy. You slid him another bill as he supplied her with another glass; it was high enough denomination to cover whatever she’d had already.

“Maybe you have a point, cher.” Not really, but you didn’t want her to close you out yet. You needed her less hostile, at least for now. “Here, let me treat you today Mimzy. Make it up to you.”

“Oh you know just how to butter me up doll.” The curvaceous blonde gladly accepted. If she owed 50 grand to loan sharks, doubtless she had tabs at every place in the city that sold alcohol. Which made up the majority of businesses in Hell.

You drank sparingly, just enough so she felt you were having a grand time together. You had the bartender keep supplying her refills; he seemed in a better mood now that someone else was dealing with the sloshed demon.

You let her bitch about everything in her afterlife and responded with soothing noises. In the end, you wanted to know how much shit she was in. This was the first time Alastor had sent her packing; you weren’t sure how she would react. You hadn’t missed the pink mark on her back on her shoulder blade. It hadn’t been there the last time you’d seen your old colleague.

Once she paused in her rambling, you asked about the mark. “I never expected you to get a tattoo, cher. What convinced you?”

The drinks and your apparent sympathy were enough to keep her talking, especially if it was something else to bitch about. “Ugh, that. Had to get it for work. One of the club owners works for someone that works for someone that works for one a’ the Sins. Greed’s head honcho.” She sipped her drink, starting to slow down as she got drunker. “The Sin bastard likes to mark any Sinners working for him, like some horny creep.” She downed the rest of her current whiskey.

“‘Course if you and your beau were properly grateful. I wouldn’t be dealing with this shit.” She pointed at you, empty glass in hand, her eyes looking unfocused and angry. The bartender moved to give her another drink but you made a cutting motion. This was the first time you heard anything of this.

“Grateful for what?” You asked, unable to help yourself. You honestly couldn’t remember what she could be talking about.

She looked at you, black and pink eyes wavering. “Fucking, of course!” You could only tilt your head. “Jesus Christ, it’s been a century and you’re still clueless? It ain’t cute anymore dollface.” Mimzy set her glass down harshly. “Sex, Y/N. S. E. X. If me and the gals hadn’t said anything, you and Alastor woulda never figured it out. You’d probably still be frigid little virgins in Hell.”

Your jaw dropped as you felt a cold spike in your core. You actually had to look down to make sure you hadn’t been stabbed. No, it was just words from someone you’d still thought of fondly. The alcohol didn’t excuse Mimzy; if anything it made her more honest.

Has she always felt like that? No… you remembered her saying she thought you and Alastor were good together. That she wanted you both to be happy. Somewhere in all those decades between then and now, things changed.

She was smirking as you processed all this, glad that she managed to hit you where it hurt evidently. In the way only people who are hurting can do, she kept pushing. But she didn’t realize what exactly hurt you. “You’re probably both terrible in bed too. Lemme guess, you just lay there while he tries to remember where to stick it?” Mimzy kept going as you stayed silent.

As her insults grew, the betrayal of a friend gave way to comedic disbelief. You started chuckling, then you were outright laughing, pounding your taloned fist on the counter. It was a good thing you had finished your drink because all the glasses around you jumped.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Your laughter finally got her stream of rudeness to stop. The indignant look on Mimzy's face just made you laugh harder, your feet kicking in glee.

“Oh, damn, I’m gonna pee myself. Fucking Hell Mimzy! Oh fuck, I needed that laugh.” You wheezed and took deep breaths until you could look at her reddened face without laughing. “Cher, you got one thing right; I still don’t understand all this nonsense about sex. Alastor still doesn’t either.

But that’s never mattered. I’ll never understand why you people think that’s so important to us. Maybe we wouldn’t have ever done it. I doubt that but we also would never have cared. You and so many others are so obsessed with sex that you can’t even imagine a relationship without it! It would be sad if it wasn’t so hilarious.”

Mimzy blinked at you, confusion, anger, and drunkenness warring in her expression. “Even now, you don’t get it! Cher, you insulting us about sex didn’t hurt. You’re a friend and my friend thinking I was stupid hurt.”

You ran your hand down your face. “Mimzy, cher, I’m just going to back up my darling here. If you want to redeem yourself, you’re welcome at the hotel. But don’t come calling otherwise. Especially if what’s his name, Mammon? The Greed Sin, comes after you. We’ll gift wrap you for him before we tussle with a Deadly Sin.”

Pulling the bartender aside, you paid for her outstanding tab, along with tonight’s drinks and a generous tip. “I paid your tab here, so you can call that payment for that talk years ago. Find me when you decide to not be a bitch.” You tucked one of your feathers into her headband. “Au revoir cher.”

Mimzy snatched the feather out and crushed it in her hands. “I don’t need you or him. I don’t need your hotel! I hope those angels kill all of you next Extermination Day, bitch!”

Back at the hotel, Alastor was in the parlor, listening to Charlie’s plans for her visit to Heaven. “Soooooo, how did it go?” he asked in a sing-song tone once he spotted you. You’d told him your plan to find Mimzy before leaving.

“As well as could be expected. I don’t think she’ll bother us anymore. I told her we’d gift wrap her for whoever came looking if she tried something like yesterday again.”

“Hmm, but that would be such a waste of good gift wrap.”

Later that night, in your suite, you went into more detail about your conversation. You were on Alastor’s lap, venting your hurt and tears. “I know she’s gotten worse in Hell, that she’s been using you, but I thought she was still our friend.” He let you get it all out, handkerchief at the ready when you were.

“I thought so as well, cher,” he said quietly. “I hate to admit it but Husk pointed it out to me. We can’t have her interfering though.”

“No,” you said simply, drying your eyes.

Alastor looked down at you, that sharp edged smile just a bit softer than usual. “I think I know what can help you for now, my dear.” With that he stood you both up and started humming, a question in his eyes. Your voice felt a bit hoarse from crying but you hummed along, practice making you harmonize. Then he swept you into a dance.

After a few numbers, you felt up to singing. The two of you danced until you were tired (Alastor probably could have kept going but he didn’t have an emotionally stressful day). That night you fell asleep in his arms, glad you’d married someone that understood you like he did.

——————

A/N: this is more than a little self indulgent on my part. My frustrations with aphobes knows no bounds. Kinda prompted after discussion with a therapist concerning aphobia and the nonsense acespec people deal with. Never forget how valid you are. 💜🤍🩶🖤 💚🤍🩶🖤 Cheers darlings!

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

#hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #hazbin alastor #hazbin mimzy #alastor #alastor x reader #asexual alastor #asexual reader #asexual #acespec #ace representation #aphobia #aphobes fuck off #aroace

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theminecraftbee · 4 months

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> check social links

(Which Social Link should I check on...?)

0 FOOL School Rescue Committee Should this really be an official school club? The group of Persona-users that I'm in now, whether I like it or not. At least I'm helping people by doing all this weird magic nonsense...

I MAGICIAN Scar A fellow Persona-user a year below me, although my senior in fighting Shadows. He's dragged me into his scam crystal-selling operation, which is actually weirdly fun.

II PRIESTESS Beef Pretty large and muscular for a priestess, but sure, I'll bite. A volunteer EMT who is trying to decide whether to follow his family's wishes for university.

III EMPRESS Gem A fellow Persona-user in my year. She wants me to help her study for entrance exams, apparently. Not sure why she's asking me, I missed an entire semester? But it's good enough study for me as well.

IV EMPEROR Impulse A fellow Persona-user in my year. He has a single-minded devotion to overworking himself, despite the fact he seems to be trying to prove it's fine for some reason.

V HIEROPHANT Xisuma An older man who hangs out in the local tea shop. Keeps trying to parent me for some reason, although it seems like his relationship with his actual family's a bit less good, so maybe that's why.

VI LOVERS Etho My lab partner. The whole school's obsessed with him for some reason. My only solace is that he seems to be just as disconcerted by that fact as I am.

VII CHARIOT Skizzleman A fellow Persona-user in my year, and my first friend in this town. I'm helping him find a part-time job. He's sort of ridiculously cheerful, but I know he understands me better than most people.

VIII JUSTICE Grian A fellow Persona-user a year below me, although my senior in fighting Shadows. Keeps dragging me into his pranks, although for such a gregarious guy, he's weirdly isolated.

IX HERMIT Joe Hills One of my teachers, and the head of the School Rescue Committee. He's, frankly, the most bizarre guy I know, and I don't know what to make of any of the "wisdom" he tries to impart on us.

X FORTUNE Tango Apparently, he's a bit of a prodigy in the robotics club, but he first came to me to confess he's considering quitting. I have no idea why this is my problem, but Impulse frowned at me about it, so here I am.

XI STRENGTH False A local martial artist who's been decorated with a number of titles. I just wanted her to teach me how to fight better, but apparently, she's starting to doubt her own fighting ability as well.

XII HANGED MAN Jimmy Igor's assistant in the Velvet Room. He's a bit of an idiot, but he's also my idiot. Mostly wants to request I escort him to places in the human world, although he wants specific fusions sometimes too.

XIII DEATH Cleo A "florist" in town who can source us weapons and fence goods from Altered Space. I'm pretty sure she's actually Yakuza, or at least criminal. She and Joe know each other, although strangely, she doesn't seem to remember from where.

XIV TEMPERANCE Iskall and Stress Two priests at the local shrine. I work for them occasionally to help them with odd jobs around town. They share some common past they don't like to talk about.

XV DEVIL Ren The student council president. He's bizarrely mad with power on a good day, which is weird, because he's also bizarrely kickable on a good day. Keeps on trying to rope me into the Student Council.

XVI TOWER Doc An inventor trying to invent a safe new clean energy source. According to rumors, his last try exploded, killing his lab partner, which constantly makes me question why I'm here.

XVII STAR Zedaph Proprietor of the famous local "Mystery Stir Fry Extravaganza". Frankly, his creations terrify me more than Doc's do. I have no idea why this is Impulse's favorite restaurant.

XVIII MOON Mumbo A fellow Persona-user in the year below me. Apparently, he still gets bullied a lot, but he has a scheme to, and I quote, 'learn to be something scary, like a horse.' Good luck with that, mate.

XIX SUN Pearl An artist that I've always admired. Recently, she was in a terrible car accident, and her hands now constantly shake because of it. I still think she can draw organic shapes better than me, though.

XX JUDGEMENT Soul Reappearance Committee Judgement. Hah. I guess you'd call this Judgement Day, sure.

XXI THE WORLD ... It's me.

#smallishsona au #a bee fic #WOO I HAVE THE FINAL LIST OF EVERYONE!#some of joel's descriptions here actually give away the social link plotline #but a FEW of them actually do not.#but WOO HERE ARE THE SOCIAL LINKS! :D

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onirique-amaranth · 1 year

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⎮Just One Drop⎮

⏤ Characters: Sakusa Kiyoomi⎮reader

⏤ Including: nsfw (-17)

⏤ Warnings: vampire! Sakusa, bottom! Sakusa, top! Male reader, implied athletic/tall/buff! Male reader, blood mention, injuries, virgin Sakusa who almost never touches himself; may do a part two. Not proofread, I have no brain for that, this whole fic is a mess ngl-

⏤ Summary: Finding your mate and sharing a bit too strong bond.

⏤ 6.400 words

Itachiyama, a private school in Tokyo, and somewhere you dreamed to go to.

It was known to have a lot of athletic clubs, the best equipment, support for the students and a foreign exchange program. Though it was available every year, not many students had the opportunity to get accepted, as it was extremely selective.

And it was because of its same exchange program that you got the opportunity to join this school for, at least, a year. Possibly more if you proved yourself good enough. This opportunity was the greatest you could have. You were currently in a public school, which wasn't bad in itself, and you liked it, but knowing that you could spend a year somewhere much better, who were you to not take this chance.

The program was offered only for students that were part of a sports club, had good results and were recommended by their teachers. Though, this part did not matter much, as it was only showing how much you were valued.

Thankfully for you, and your hard work, you ended up fitting in with their requirements, more or less without surprise. Compared to Itachiyama, your school didn't have much money to spend on clubs, and you couldn't enjoy the sport as much as you wanted to. But with this program, you may be able to train with a real coach, learn more, and know how it feels to have a real team.

So, without any more hesitation, you accepted to leave your country for Tokyo, along with one of your friends.

And only a month later, you were on a plane, going to Japan and joining Itachiyama Institute as a third-year student.

Without any surprise, you were welcomed nicely by some teachers and a few students, which were all more than kind and lovely. There was no doubt that the school chose the calmest and sweetest student to give a good image from the start.

That's how you met Motoya Komori, another third-year who was in the volleyball club, and he quickly became a good friend. The next day, he took the time to show you the city, explaining how everything was working for your first days here, and the time spent helped you to bond together and create a great friendship.

Perhaps it was a surprise for you, but all the students from the exchange program including you became rather popular, as you were for most foreigners and athletes, you fitted right in the standards of this school.

Fortunately, everything was going well. Your first month has been perfect in every way. Despite now living in a whole new country, and only knowing a bit about it, you manage to meet multiple people, get a few friends, some close ones too and joined the club you loved the most.

Unsurprisingly, you weren't the best player here, as you did not get the opportunity to have a coach or a clear routine before. But now, it was the moment to enjoy and improve yourself, you were still an over-average player and training with a good team could only help you. A strong motivation takes over, wishing to become better and be a regular.

As days passed, you gained some habits from this new lifestyle, as every morning you spend time with friends from your class, and then for the rest of the day, you would be with your club members or Komori and his friends, now yours too.

For a reason that was unknown to you, Komori was always busy in the morning and couldn't be with anyone, same for when he was finishing his practice with the volleyball club, he never had the time to do anything after. You never tried to pry into it, as it wouldn't be respectful, and it was normal for him to have things to do. Simply, you just grow curious about why he was so secretive about it, though, you did nothing to find out.

Honestly, you forgot about it for a long while, until you saw him one morning walking into the school, a guy next to him.

This someone was surely a third-year too, they seemed really close, and you couldn't help but feel curious. This unknown person, you guessed was a man with the name Komori pronounced, was rather attractive, also catching your eye by how different he was from your friend.

Komori was someone always joyful, excited, extremely friendly and liked by most people, while this guy was the complete opposite of what you were seeing. He was wearing a mask, no sign of happiness could be found on his face, nor any other emotions except annoyance and tiredness.

Compared to your friend, he was not greeting anyone, not talking or barely a full sentence while replying to Komori, and would not try in any way to interact with any person, or simply ignore everyone. You had no clear idea of who he was, or what was his full name, but he managed to stay in your mind for a long while.

In the following days, you would notice him everywhere you were going, unable to ignore him or not recognize him from afar. With his black curly hair that looked extremely soft, the mask he was wearing, hiding his features except for some, like the two moles on the right of his forehead, and his aura, he was easily seen.

It was driving you crazy.

How effortlessly your eyes were drawn toward him. There was no reason for it that you were aware of, but it was as if something was enchanting you toward him.

You still did not know who he was, and yet, he was occupying your mind, magnetic and hypnotizing for you, catching your attention and poisoning your mind. For no reason, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and especially did not want to think about him particularly. It was a strange and bothersome feeling, being thrown toward someone so hard, but not even knowing anything about them that could explain it all.

Days passed, and this odd attraction did not stop one bit. The most frustrating was that you were the only one sensing it, never once, he looked at you. Though it should be normal, something inside of you was annoyed to not end because of this. After all, you were nobody for him, and he was nobody for you.

Thankfully for you, the next week, you never saw him once. And so, you almost forgot about him until today. At lunch, as you were eating with everyone and joking around, talking about the last practice or your classes, Komori suddenly started to act strangely. He would blush and stutter while talking, which was far from his usual self. You saw how most were sending him a sweet smile and motioning for him to say something, leaving you confused.

For some more minutes, he stayed silent, looking blankly at his empty plate, until his head suddenly shot up. With a bashful grin, he offered you to come to his practice this afternoon, to watch him and maybe do something after together. In amusement, you watched as his cheeks turn a deeper shade of red, Komori looking away in embarrassment at his sudden outburst.

As curious as you were about volleyball and what Komori’s practice looked like, you accepted quickly, as refusing was not an option for you. And genuinely, you never saw him brighten up this quickly, his smile was blinding, to say the least, it could be compared to the sun at this moment. Komori looked so excited and happy that he was jumping on his chair, the others looking at the two of you amused. Soon enough, it was time to go back to class and after patting your back, everyone left after the bell rang.

The hours passed rapidly, you barely even remember when you started the second class of the afternoon, or when the bell rang and everyone left, either to go home or to their club. At this point, you were moving on autopilot, noticing last second how you were standing in front of your gymnasium and not the volleyball team’s one, making you sigh.

You walked alone to the other gymnasium, making sure it was the one Komori told you about, this time, before going in its direction. Carefully following the path, you look up a split second from your phone, and you see him. Here he was, waiting outside the building with his back resting against the wall, the same man living rent-free in your mind for more than 2 weeks.

Thankfully, he was too busy on his phone to notice you pass by him, you opened the door in haste and entered the gymnasium. Even though you only saw him for some seconds, the sudden pressure you felt before the door closed behind you sent shivers up your spine. Your hands were still shaking as your body was screaming at you to run away. You took some seconds to inhale deeply, calming yourself down to not cause a scene before stepping forward.

As he was quietly waiting for Komori, Kiyoomi was pulled out of his thoughts by the sounds of steps going toward him, he already felt annoyed, sure that he was one of his teammates. Turn out he was wrong, as the person did not even stop, and thankfully, only passed by him without a word.

But then, it hit him, the sweet scent he has been smelling continuously these last weeks. His grip around his phone tightened, all his muscles tensing as he resisted the urge to just yank you toward him and feed. It was such torture when he felt your eyes on him, only wanting to look back at you, but you kept walking as if he wasn’t there.

He barely had the time to look back before the door closed behind you, the view of your nape and shoulders, along with the shape of your upper back graved into his mind, making his mouth water. He tried so hard to find who was smelling so sweetly for weeks, to no avail, and here you were, showing up like it was nothing. How could you not be aware of him and what you were doing to him, it was insane.

He was tempted to run after you, just to get a longer time to enjoy your smell, but sadly, his cousin showed up at the same. And unfortunately, he was forced to push to the back of his mind his thoughts about you, or everything that he imagined he could do. Rapidly looking suspiciously at his cousin as he seemed much happier than usual, and then, when a smelled a whip of your smell on Komori, his eye twitched. Did you two know each other?

Kiyoomi couldn’t help but wonder what was making you so attractive. Perhaps it was your scent, the sweetness of your blood, or how you were cleaner than the rest, the remaining scent of your body wash and shampoo still on you, even after a long day. He knew it sounded creepy, but his need to feed was taking over his senses, and something deep within him was calling, craving for you. Despite all his efforts, he couldn’t help but fantasize about you. And knowing that his cousin could be close to you, made him feel especially annoyed for an unknown reason. In the end, you were always on his mind.

Stepping inside the gymnasium, you were thankful to recognize some players, you took the time to greet some of them whom you knew through Komori’s acquaintances, before sitting in the bleachers. At the same moment, Komori and the guy from earlier came in, one looking overly excited and the other annoyed to no end. It was strange how he looked so upset but also so close to your friend.

Someone from the team yelled “Kiyoomi” and you watched as the man’s head shot up, sending a death glare to the too-joyful player. It seemed like your guess was right, he should be a third-year too since the player called him “senpai”. Though you were only sure of his last name and age, and still knew nothing more. At least, it’s a good start, maybe if you learn more about him, you’ll manage to get him out of your mind, as ignoring him was not working.

Soon enough, the practice started, and you tried your best to find and watch Komori. Despite your efforts, trying so hard to focus on your friend, your eyes were always drawn back on Kiyoomi, each movement hypnotizing you.

You couldn’t help but observe him with curiosity, almost forgetting about Komori, that was looking over you at that moment, disappointed that your eyes weren’t on him. In silence, he followed your gaze, curious about who you were so focused on, only to find out that you were watching his cousin. He felt his heart being crushed when he saw you with the eyes of someone who was a bit too interested in someone that was not him.

What pissed him off the most, was how Kiyoomi was acting. He seemed nervous, and clearly destabilized because he was feeling your eyes on him. The light blush on his cheeks was even more annoying, especially when it worsens after the quick look he would take whenever you weren’t watching him anymore. Komori felt his patience run out, not only his cousin had to get interested in his crush, but he managed to get your attention too.

He was going to turn around to focus back on the game, too fuming to watch much longer until he saw his eyes. Komori felt his blood run cold when he witnessed Kiyoomi’s pupils shaking violently, expanding and narrowing rapidly without any control. In a panic, he called a time-out immediately, taking his cousin by the arm, and dragging him away to the changing room without another word, leaving everyone puzzled.

The players, despite being confused, decided to grab their water and relax until the two came back to the court. One of them, that was your friend, called you down, wanting to introduce you to the rest of the team, excited like a cute child. He quickly explained who you are, that you came because of the exchange program and were really talented in the sport you were practising.

Without any surprise, you hit off with all of them rapidly, immediately feeling welcomed and appreciated. You could only enjoy how easygoing they were and how simple it was to have a nice discussion with them, the gloomy mood becoming more joyful and light-hearted.

With your arm thrown over a second year’s shoulders, you relish in the good ambience, almost forgetting about Komori and Kiyoomi. Softly laughing at a dumb joke a player was saying, you felt more comfortable than ever with them. You almost did not notice your friend come out of the changing room, alone this time, looking much calmer and relaxed than earlier.

Not mentioning what just happened, he joined the discussion as if everything was fine, standing next to you, close enough to be able to whisper some jokes about the players in your ear. Though everything was going well, you could still feel Komori glance at you anxiously, despite his calm and collected act, something seemed wrong.

Some long minute passed before the intriguing man came back, Kiyoomi finally got out of the changing room and joined the rest of the team, just next to you. Though, Komori quickly placed himself between you and him, putting his hand on your shoulder before introducing you, making you discover that they were cousins.

It was making much more sense now, as you could understand why they were extremely close and often together even though it seemed like one of the two did not like the other around him.

Komori took a quick glance at you, not saying anything. Normally, you try to shake hands as a greeting. But thankfully for you, a while ago you noticed how Kiyoomi was avoiding every skin-to-skin contact with absolutely everyone. So instead, you simply bowed, hoping it was enough.

Thankfully for you, you noticed a while ago how he was avoiding every skin-to-skin contact with anyone, so you didn't try to shake his hand, but simply bowed. You spotted from the corner of your eye how Komori exhaled in relief, knowing how Kiyoomi would have lost it if you touched him without washing your hands or putting on hand sanitiser.

Glad that the incident has been avoided without him needing to intervene, he started talking to you, being the one mostly holding the discussion going. He kept standing in between you and his cousin, pushing him to the side little by little discreetly.

You could see how it was annoying Kiyoomi, and he was starting to lose his patience. The tense atmosphere was making you feel more and more uncomfortable, the situation not getting better in the slightest, so you decided to tell Komori that they should start practising again, as they lost a bit too much time already.

He blushed in embarrassment, and apologized immediately, motioning for Kiyoomi and the rest of the team to go back on the court. As he walked away, the black-haired male was still standing in front of you, eyes piercing through yours with an unrecognizable expression on his face. And then, he left without another word, his shoulder brushing against yours as he almost gently pushed you to the side.

During the rest of the practice, the game changed as he was looking at you, and you were looking somewhere else. You could feel his eyes on you, but you tried your best to focus on the rest of the players instead, despite the burning feeling on the side of your head and neck.

You could see Komori being annoyed at his cousin's behaviour and almost calling him out in the middle of the game, hiding his anger, which was in reality jealousy and kept acting strange.

The tense atmosphere between the two was distracting, especially you that was observing from afar, and you were unable to keep track of what was happening when the two guys were staring down at each other. The other players were awkward too, and the training session was cut short, unexpectedly stopping one hour earlier than usual.

You took the opportunity to exchange numbers with the rest of the players, some of them inviting you to upcoming parties or for lunch. You enjoyed your time with them, meanwhile, Komori and Kiyoomi had already disappeared from the court. You barely had the time to see them get out of the changing room, freshly showered and dressed in their school attire as Komori bids you goodbye, followed by a short apology as he drags Kiyoomi away, whose eyes weren't leaving yours.

That peculiar tension disappeared the moment he stepped out of the building and was out of your sight. It left you shivering, a foreign urge, a nameless craving bubbling deep into your stomach, mind, and heart. It leaves you gasping for air as if something just punched you in the stomach.

The same night, as you were finally home, laying down on your bed with your eyes closed, you felt it, this other presence in the back of your mind. It was subtle, too subtle for you to make anything about it, but it was here. Though the tiredness took over your body, your mind fell into an endless void, unknowingly going straight into his trap. And then, he was here again, the same captivating face and enchanting eyes staring down at you. It was luring you in, making you step forward until you were close enough for him to grab your face, bringing you into a heated kiss.

Everything went too quickly, and before you knew it, the blood in your veins was boiling up, almost as if electricity was going through them. Your legs and core were burning up, tensed and overwhelmed by everything that was happening, this delirious dream driving you mad. It seemed so realistic, you could feel his warmth, smell him and touch him. You couldn't resist the temptation as you held into his waist, bringing him closer and sliding your leg in between his. The moan he lets out was resonating in your mind, echoing through the white void of your imagination.

Your brain was screaming at you to get away, push him and snap out of it, but you weren't able to, too focused on his lips and his taste. The same magnetic aura made your mind go blank, forgetting what you were thinking about the second before.

Kiyoomi smirked at your reaction, wrapping his hands around your neck, his nails digging into your skin to have you even closer, trapping you in his hold. One of his hands slowly danced down, tugging on the shirt you were wearing, exposing more skin as he had the opportunity to move down and gently bite your neck and shoulder.

Everything was too tempting, and he couldn't help but lick the side of your neck, searching for the softest part. He looked down at you, mouth still wide open until his fangs touched the side of your neck, and his mouth closed suddenly onto you, like a predator jumping on its prey.

It hurt so bad at first, your skin was burning, as if someone threw you in a pit of fire. But slowly, the pain subdued, a strange sensation being left behind, your pain and pleasure being twice stronger. You were confused about what was happening, while Kiyoomi was completely high on the taste and satisfaction he felt.

It was certain now, he had found his mate, your linked sensations and dreams were the proof of it. He could feel the pain on his neck as he bites you, his own hands copying you when you cup his face, trying to tug him off. Kiyoomi know how rare it is to get a link this powerful, but he didn't mind it one bit, he was not even expecting to meet his mate one day, and yet, it happened.

The only frustrating part was that everything was happening in your minds only. For now, the link was temporary and would disappear within a few days.

He needed to see you again.

He sensed you grow more frantic, desperately to get him off as now, the bite was really painful. As gently as he could, he opened his mouth, his fangs slowly retracting from your delicious flesh. The smell of your blood was still tantalizing him, but Kiyoomi needed to be patient, it was useless to rush things.

When finally the pain disappeared, you were able to breathe correctly again, fear leaving your mind. Even though it was not real and this guy couldn't harm you, the threat of sucking you dry or killing you was still on the back of your mind. Deep down, you were aware that he never threatened you, and the whole atmosphere didn't feel like he wanted to harm you… especially with how his body was reacting.

His hands were still on your jaw and shoulder, thumb softly caressing your skin, lips colliding soon after. Kiyoomi keep peppering kisses all over your neck, nuzzling against you as he enjoyed the scent of your perfume and blood.

Curious, you look down to observe him, his red eyes catching your attention. In a beautiful way, his pupils were overtaking the colour, blending into a deeper shade, only adding to the profoundness of his eyes. Despite behaving so sweetly, he looked high and mad, with remaining blood on the corner of his lips, staining his skin.

His tongue darted out, licking the blood off with an expression of pure ecstasy, swallowing with great pleasure. His lips parted to let out a sinful moan, showing off his long and pointed fangs, and the urge to taste you again get stronger.

Before he could try to touch you again though, you slapped his hand away, mind clearing up as you took a step back, putting some distance between you and him. He tried to go after you, his hand reaching for your shoulder. Kiyoomi was only some centimetres away before everything went black, and you woke up. His frustrated and disappointed face echoed in your mind as everything disappeared around you, the ground vanished and let you fall endlessly.

You woke up after this, the fall in your dream forced you awake. You were panting and sweating profusely, your heart beating erratically, still unable to process everything that you just dreamed of. But you weren’t so sure if it was a dream anymore, as you could feel your neck burning and hurting, and after checking in the mirror, your body was covered in red nail marks. They were on your neck, clearly recently made and far too similar to the place Kyoomi was holding you for this to be a coincidence.

You felt sick, your mind was aching and your stomach turning, as you felt as if something was missing. Strangely, you craved something but had no idea of what exactly. And to not help you with this situation, you rapidly found out that you were hard and dripping, which wasn’t something you wanted to be right now.

Even after a few minutes, you were still in the same state. You tried to take a shower, to ignore it, watch things that you found disgusting and made your stomach turn, and not in a nice way. But despite this, after doing everything you could think of, it wasn’t coming down. Desperate, and wanting to enjoy your morning before classes, you decide to check the time, seeing how there wasn’t so much time left before going to school.

Seriously hesitating on what to do, you knew that if you were still like this after long minutes, it wasn’t going to disappear suddenly within this short span of time. Groaning, you convinced yourself that you had no other solution, as you dropped what you were doing and went into the living room, throwing your school bag beside the door.

And that’s how you ended up sitting on your sofa, lifting the front of your shirt and holding it up with your teeth as you pulled your pants down, stroking yourself slowly. Gradually going faster, you felt your mind go blank, forgetting about all the strange things that happened to you, unknowingly distracting someone else as you relieve yourself.

Unfortunately for the poor volleyball player, the link between you wasn’t effective only in your dreams, but all the time, both during the day and the night. This means, that if one of you feels something in a strong way, the other will immediately sense it and share that feeling too.

And so, while getting dressed after waking up feeling discontented by his first dream shared with you, Kiyoomi felt the powerful pleasure going through your body. That bliss coursing through your veins as much as it was in his, his mind went blank as a wave of satisfaction hit him, hard.

His knees went weak, and he almost fell onto the ground, legs shaking as the sensations were far too powerful for him to withstand. Kiyoomi didn’t know how to feel. First, you ignored him almost all the time during school, then you ended up being pushed away by you inside your dream, and now, you were masturbating just after waking up. Did it mean that he has enough effect on you to give you a hard-on and make you lose your mind?

Though he wasn’t able to think much longer as he felt his legs give out, the feeling was breathtaking, almost electric, as he never felt something this strong with anyone before, even with those he had a link with.

Usually, he finds that kind of act absolutely disgusting and unhygienic, which explains why he never touches himself, except for the exception of doing it in someone else’s dream. He was never touching himself, or even thinking about it, even less about spending a night with someone. It was just a distraction.

But, with the raw pleasure he sensed, unable to ignore it as long as you were feeling it, he could feel his resolve crumble. Your euphoria was taking over his senses, as he could almost feel you, hear you mean and grunt in his ear, imagining your voice as you murmur his name, and unconsciously, his body started to react.

He really wanted to fight it, refusing to let himself get indulged in such a gross and odious act like this, especially in the morning. But, knowing it was you, pleasuring yourself because of him, was exhilarating, to say the least. It was maybe a unique opportunity to share something with you outside of a dream, pleasuring himself at the same time as you, as if you were the one doing it for him. The idea was so tempting.

Fixated on what he wanted to do, he completely ignored Komori that should be waiting for him outside the house by now. He could wait for a bit longer anyway, you weren’t going to be at school early today so, there was no reason for them to be in a rush.

Before he could move towards his bed, a spike of pleasure made him collapse on the ground. In a haste, he pulled his pants down, almost ripping his underwear off as he touched himself for the first time outside a fake reality. The simple contact of his palm against his wet tip made him whine, back arching as his body was sensitive to the point he could feel something come out already. All his muscles were tensed, and he had difficulty breathing as he was overwhelmed by everything.

Kiyoomi barely started to move when a new wave hits him, feeling your body tense up at the same time as him, he could discern the shakiness of your legs, and almost hear the grunts escaping your lips but muffled by your shirt. Your mind was utterly blank and empty as the link became stronger, now truly unbreakable, as you were unknowingly solidifying it.

Now, Kiyoomi was able to hear your erratic heartbeat, your unstable breathing, and how you struggled with each inhale. The best thing was the shared pleasure, Kiyoomi could feel each rapid stroke, as he would reply with a slower but tighter one, absolutely worsening your sensitive state.

As Kiyoomi was trying to match up with your pace, something new emerged, as he felt your body tense up, your breath stopped as a strong sensation broke through your entire body. At this instant, your release triggered his own body to follow you, and cum instantly, even if he wasn’t physically ready to.

And here he was, in the middle of his room, touching himself for the first time and coming after only a few movements of his wrist. His whole body and brain broke, not functioning anymore, as everything came to a stop.

It was far too embarrassing. It was so lewd and humiliating, but oh-so-satisfying to have his body give out, Kiyoomi needed it more than anything.

The thought of being connected to you, being so close to you, feeling whenever you do it, whenever you lose yourself in the forbidden pleasure. It only makes him more addicted to you, desiring to see and taste more.

If the smell of you and your blood weren’t enough to make him lose his mind, the way your body was moving, how big you were compared to him, and how it left him so many places to bite onto, definitely did. The thought alone could bring him to new highs. He could imagine it already, how he could suck your blood out of you, slowly driving you insane, only for the aphrodisiac of his bite to overwhelm you, him only being able to bring you this endless pleasure.

Minutes were passing, and despite his mind slowly becoming clearer, he was still frozen in place, his body unable to move. Cum was running down his shaft, onto his hand and sliding down to his elbow, pooling onto the ground.

He was finally able to breathe correctly, enjoying the relaxed state he was in, high on the pleasure he felt not so long ago. Thankfully for him, it seemed like you only needed to do it once to be satisfied, or else he would have been passed out by the end of the second time.

But Kiyoomi spoke too soon because he felt it again, this time much stronger, the link activating in a way he didn’t know was possible, his body moving without his consent, his hands going back to hold the tip. His hand moved in synchronization with yours, obediently following your lead even if he didn’t want it.

He shrieked at the aggressive tempo, the pace was far too quick for him, along with the tight hold around his dick, driving him insane, he was losing it. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything to free himself from this power you had over him. He wanted to tell you to slow down, to let him some minutes to regain control of his body, but it would impossible for you to hear, and even so, you were too lost in the headspace he forced you into.

It was his own fault, after all, if he didn’t play with your mind while you were sleeping, he wouldn’t be here right now, unable to control his own body or mind. Everything was blurry around him, his ears were buzzing and his lower body was shaking as he tried to hold himself up, gripping the edge of his bed.

Kiyoomi was awfully sensitive, with no stamina during this kind of play, and so, before he knew it, he was cumming again. Without a doubt, you felt it, and yet you weren’t stopping. His hand was still moving at the same pace despite having just came, and he was now completely drenching his pants, unable to stand up anymore. Kiyoomi fell to the ground, his back hitting the side of his bed as he spread his legs, giving up and leaving you to do all the work.

He knew he couldn’t stop you now, not even decrease the pace until he regain his body’s control. Unfortunately, as long as you’re in this state, you will be the one with the upper hand, and he was forced to endure it. Currently, he couldn’t do anything except roll his head back, arch his back and let his mouth hang open, letting out the most sinful sounds he ever heard made.

It went like this for so long that he lost count, his body shaking uncontrollably. Then suddenly, you were slowing down, and he could finally breathe correctly, inhaling as much air as he could, his lungs burning. Kiyoomi thought he could relax, but something felt wrong, as he didn’t feel you finish, with no sensation similar to what he felt the first time. Were you really done? It seemed suspicious.

As he thought this, you were breathing heavily, so close to your high, as you moved your thumb towards your tip, barely pressing your nail into the opening, sending Kiyoomi’s body lurching forward. His voice broke as a moan was forced out of his mouth, this action hurt so fucking good, the pain was addicting. His hips thrusted up uselessly, knowing he wasn’t the one in charge of the stimulation he was receiving.

And it’s only after another orgasm that he broke down, whimpering your name out loud, begging and whining, crying, pleading for you to stop, and then to keep going, to give him more. Until finally, he shouted out something intelligible, squirting over himself, and his pants, making a complete mess as he was too drunk on these sensations to process anything.

He humped the air, searching for you as something snapped inside of him, his eyes rolling back in his skull, his whole mind filled with thoughts of you. He hoped you were losing your mind too, while thinking about him, making a mess while hoping he could be there with you. Kiyoomi would do absolutely everything to be in between your legs, lapping at your dick, devouring your thighs and tasting you. He could offer his mouth to you, his entire body, doing anything that could make you happy.

There were hearts and tears in his eyes, Kiyoomi knew that he needed to have you, to make you his, and have you as desperate as he was for you. It was crazy how badly he was dreaming of marking you, now, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your neck, and forcibly making you cum inside of him. Just imagining how he could drive you mad with only one bite, only a single bite and you were his forever, obsessed with his scent, hypnotized by his eyes and entranced by his body.

He was aware that a single bite could drive any human insane, making them mad and high on a surreal pleasure. And he couldn’t help but dream of biting you countless times, cover neck and shoulders in his beautiful marks, making you bleed, tasting you without feeding.

He could see and feel it already, how you would fuck into him harder, unable to think of anyone else but him, destroy his body until he couldn’t walk anymore. How you could make a mess out of him, and only he could bring you to an ecstasy you never felt before, become addicted to this link and sensations.

For the first time, Kiyoomi desired someone, wishing that you could be his and only his. As his mind was taken away, disappearing into a pit of need and want, determined to make a move as soon as he can, his body went limp.

You weren’t in a better state on the side, his numerous releases made you almost pass out by the end of it, and as you try to slow down your breathing, needing to get ready to go to school, something in the back of your mind snaps.

You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you were in the same dream as before.

⏤ Thank you for reading! I wish you a great day.

⏤ here is my masterlist & ko-fi ⏤

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another-lost-mc · 9 months

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Omg a fellow F1 enjoyer here!! I absolutely love all your works, but I especially loved that one even more! 🥺 can I request for the dateables and side characters too pleaseee? 🫣

a/n: I'm glad you liked it! the demon bros were more like mc's little crew and it was such a cute idea. I think the others would still support mc in their own way too.

➤ when MC is a professional F1 driver | the dateables + mephisto

1.3k words | sfw | gn!reader | fluff & slice of life shenanigans

cw: developing relationships with the other characters (except for baby brother luke who is strictly platonic and mc's #1 fan).

related versions: the demon brothers

Diavolo

— He's thrilled that you're forging your own path in the Devildom and that the demon brothers are involved.

— He's impressed by your abilities but he still worries about your safety.

— Every morning when Barbatos brings him his morning paper, he scans the front page and sports sections for articles or photos about you or your latest race.

— He saves clippings of all your newspaper/magazine appearances and keeps them in a scrapbook.

— His original intention was to give it to you as a gift when you finished your year in the exchange program. He ends up making copies for everyone who wants one and keeps the original for himself.

— He has his own impressive vehicles. your excitement is palpable when he shows you the collection in his garage. When you go out together, he offers you the keys and hopes that you'll take the wheel. (He can't explain why he likes it so much.)

Barbatos

— He's a skilled driver himself even though he rarely needs to drive. Portals are so much simpler.

— The Devildom racing league tightens up its safety and security measures when you join. Barbatos personally oversees that their lax approach to rules and safety are amended. He argues that there's a fortune to be made for having the novelty of a human world driver on their track. He promises with fake smiles that their license and investments will suddenly be forfeit should anything happen to you due to their negligence.

— Barbatos doesn’t have a lot of free time to watch your races in person, but he follows your Devilgram account and watches the highlight reels that Asmo posts when he is done working for the day.

— He receives your fan club's newsletter. He's also purchased some merchandise as well, including a coffee mug he uses when he drinks tea privately in his chambers

— The Little D’s are some of your biggest fans too. Some of them make zoom-zoom noises as they race each other in the halls of the castle. (Little D Number 2 has tried to "borrow" Barbatos' fan merch, several times, but always gets caught.)

Simeon

— He's not sure why humans are so fascinated in sports or activities that look far too dangerous. He admires your passion and hates it at the same time.

— He’s a little nervous the first time you offer to take him out for a joy ride, but later he admits it was surprisingly enjoyable. (Anything with you is enjoyable, though.)

— He and Luke go to your races and both of them have a small collection of your fan merch.

— He’s very concerned about your safety. He knows humans are less durable than demons are and he watches from the stands with the pent-up energy of a bird about to take flight. If something happens, he's going to be out of his seat and flying to your side to help you.

— He secretly hopes you’ll retire from this career sooner rather than later because he’s terrified you’re going to get hurt (or worse) one day.

Luke

— He’s fascinated by the sport and how talented you are. He thinks it's a little scary how fast the race cars drive and he reminds you before each race that winning isn't important, as long as you're safe and having fun!

— He makes cupcakes and other yummy treats for you to celebrate your big wins. The cake and icing is dyed the same bright colours as your racing car.

— He loves it when you give him a chance to visit you behind the scenes at the track: exploring the pit, letting him sit in your car with your too-big helmet teetering awkwardly on his head.

— The others get a little jealous when you show Luke special attention, like when you wave to him in the crowd before a race or hug him when he runs up to you after.

— Luke likes sitting shotgun when you drive him and the others around town or for little day trips. Mammon even gives you permission to take him for drives in his own car sometimes. (Mammon lets Luke sit in the front seat with you if the three of you go somewhere together.)

— Luke talks about you constantly with his roommates in Purgatory Hall. He also mentions you a lot to Michael and even offered to send him some of your fan merch.

— (Michael grows more curious about you with each story or photo Luke shares with him, but he won't admit it to himself or anyone else.)

Solomon

— Solomon doesn't have an interest in most human sports, but when he meets you, his interest in the racing world is piqued.

— Whenever he wants to go out somewhere, he insists that not only should you go with him, but that you should drive, too.

— (There's something about your cool confidence and quiet joy behind the wheel that makes him feel things.)

— Your fan following in the human world is almost as impressive as your growing popularity in the Devildom. He goes on a little shopping spree, buying up the various official and fan-made merch that was sold during your rise to success.

— He keeps his favourite items for himself but lets the others have their pick. You think it's embarrassing how he even managed to find some of this junk (really, who has a pristine copy of an old racing calendar?). The demons and angels divide it all amongst themselves without too much arguing—at first. (You leave when someone suggests Rock, Paper, Scissors to settle some of the arguments over the most coveted items everyone wants for themselves.)

— Solomon rolls his eyes when Mammon claims loudly that this stuff is gonna sell for a fortune in the Devildom, but he knows the Greed demon has no intention of selling any of it. (Asmo confirms later that Mammon keeps everything he claimed, including the little collectible figures of your old racing car, on a shelf in his bedroom.)

Mephistopheles

— He's completely unimpressed with you when you first arrive, and he really doesn't understand what all the fuss is about. So what if you're human? You're completely ordinary and boring and unremarkable, so why should he care?

— The revelation about your human world profession, and your dramatic debut into the Devildom racing scene, changes his mind. Professionally, anyway.

— It's hard to refuse his next assignment when the prince himself takes such an interest in you. Mephisto is the RAD Newspaper Club representative tasked with covering your career and setting up interviews and photo-ops that the rest of the school are clamoring for.

— Mephisto really underestimates your popularity. He grits his teeth when Asmo cackles on the other end of the D.D.D. and informs him that he'll be added to the list of news outlets that want an interview with you.

— Seriously???

— (He refuses to be affected when you admit bashfully that interviews are something you'll never get used to, and that maybe if he's feeling generous, can he be kinder than some of the human world reporters used to be?)

— He gets special access, along with one of the Newspaper Club photographers, to the front row staging area so they can capture the best shots of you before, during, and after each race. He hates your bright smile when he grudgingly hands you a photo afterwards. Don't get the wrong idea, either: it's for his younger brother. Mephisto couldn't care less.

— (His brother is over the moon when Mephisto gives him the signed photo later. If he's smiling, it's only because his brother is happy!)

#obey me #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #obey me little d #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #obey me luke #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #obey me mephistopheles #mephistopheles x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

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beardedmrbean · 29 days

Text

Black Americans like me are often guilted into defaulting to supporting the Democratic Party — but with friends like the Democrats, who needs enemies?

No matter the paternalistic garbage they regurgitate into party talking points about our existence, we’re supposed to hold our noses and show our support for our political frenemies.

And now the stench of racial-rhetoric bile has emitted from the mouth of Gov. Hochul, with insulting and ignorant comments about black kids.

While speaking onstage in a California forum about her desire to have more of a diverse workforce in artificial intelligence, she attempted to highlight the disadvantage some have — but instead made an unfounded presumption about them.

“Right now we have, you know, young black kids growing up in The Bronx who don’t even know what the word ‘computer’ is,” Hochul said.

“They don’t know, they don’t know these things,” she continued.

“And I want the world opened up to all of them.”

Of course, her statement about black children’s knowledge of the existence of computers was met with swift backlash, even from lawmakers within her party.

“Deeply disturbed by @GovKathyHochul’s recent remarks and the underlying perception that she has of Black & brown children from the BX,” lamented Bronx Assembly member Karines Reyes on X.

“Our children are bright, brilliant, extremely capable, and more than deserving of any opportunities that are extended to other kids. Do better.”

While many want to translate this moment as being a gaffe, I believe it served as a window into the mindset of many mainstream elitist Democrats.

Hochul inadvertently revealed how she’s a country-club Democrat who perceives anyone who isn’t a member of the upper class as being beyond ignorant and incapable.

To smother the mild guilt they feel for being fortunate, such people pretend to understand the plight of the unfortunate with leftist virtue-signaling.

Ironically, her twisted belief that black children are ignorant of a word reveals her ignorance about the world.

It would be bad enough to presume black children in The Bronx don’t have computers, but she verbalizes an even more putrid belief that the word “computer” isn’t anywhere to be found in their vocabulary.

It makes me wonder: How deep does the pit of Democratic condescension go?

Does she believe black people in The Bronx use rotary phones because they never discovered the wonders of an iPhone?

Would she be shocked to know that black people don’t walk barefoot in New York and that shoes are readily accessible to them?

There has yet to be a day that I regret leaving the Democratic Party and choosing political independence, because I know that this mentality of seeing people who look like me as expectedly pitiful — and being shocked when we are successful — is rampant.

Hochul and her country-club Democrats pass themselves off as being the saviors of black people when we didn’t ask them to be.

They’re self-serving narcissists who use our likeness for social clout and voter-base bragging rights — when, at the end of the day, we are nothing more than the help that caters to them at their exclusive clubs.

The party I used to support still argues that black people are less capable of getting a government-issued ID to vote, when I’ve yet to meet a black adult in my entire life who didn’t have one.

And now it makes sense: They think we can’t Google where the DMV is because we don’t have a computer to complete this task. I mean, what even is a “Google”?

I have a problem with being led by elitists who’ve disconnected themselves from the reality of the average American because they often invent falsehoods about our existence — as it’s more comforting for them to use their imaginations than to leave their gated communities.

I spent part of my childhood poor and homeless, yet I’ve defied the Democratic odds of not only knowing how to use a computer but previously having an entire career in the information-technology field.

Being poor is not the same as being incapable or unintelligent and lacking resources, and it doesn’t determine your outcome unless you want it to.

Gov. Hochul, that “black people not knowing about computers” line might get applause from your golfing buddies on the sand trap, but it doesn’t jive with anyone outside of those gates.

#nunyas news

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purriteen · 3 months

Text

Ad victor spolia, chapter five

content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years), somnophilia

author’s note: it's been like a month but have this double release I'm feeling generous (crappy proofreading/editing, be warned)

word count: 3,476

Previous chapter

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Your head is throbbing from the hangover. You only vaguely recognise the room you're in, with the large Palladian windows and exquisite furniture you're pretty sure it's the master bedroom, and the arm that drapes over your torso as you realise your back is pressed against a warm, distinctly male body.

You're startled at first, and when you turn around to find that it's Coriolanus, in a pair of pyjama pants and a loose sleeping shirt, you hardly feel any better about the situation. It takes you a minute to register that he's awake, blush spreading on your cheeks like wildfire when his eyes meet yours.

You feel so exposed like this, groggy and hungover, in the now wrinkled black slip dress that offers you little coverage. You can't even remember taking your ballgown off in the first place.

"Silia? You're finally awake. I was worried about you, after what happened last night," He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Without all that product in it, his curls have returned. He must've had time to shower sometime between your blackout and now.

Your brows furrow, anxiety building in your chest at his words. "What do you mean, after what happened last night..?" You inquire, although you're not sure you want to know. The whole scenario looks so incredibly wrong. But you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt - how likely is it really that anything would've happened?

Even if it weren't so immoral and disgusting, your brother being intimate with anyone is just unthinkable to you. At most, he'd probably have attended one of those decadent gentlemen's clubs, if he didn't have so much to lose, being the President and all.

The thought appalls you - but it's not just the idea of him partaking in exploiting the less fortunate women in the Capitol, there's something more to it that you can't quite put your finger on. You push it aside for now; you have bigger, more urgent problems to deal with.

He appears deep in thought for a second, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows thickly. "Coryo? What happened last night?" You repeat, this time with more urgency in your voice. You shift into a sitting position, your thoughts running wild with ideas of whatever awful thing could have landed you here, making it impossible for you to stay in that half-asleep state.

He finally looks up at you, stretching out one of his hands to stroke your cheekbone. There's something about the look on his face that makes him seem pained, wounded.

"You got.. very intoxicated. One of my men found you in the corridor just outside the ballroom, with a low-ranking gamemaker. They caught him red-handed, trying to.. to take advantage of you."

His words start to sink in, and a wave of nausea washes over you at the thought.

Someone had tried to force themselves onto you.

Someone who was likely a friend or at least a colleague of Remus. Who'd possibly even worked with your brother at one point, when he was a gamemaker intern.

"I'm so sorry, Hersilia, I shouldn't have let you get so drunk in the first place, I had your glass checked for any trace of drugs, of being laced with anything, but the lab couldn't find anything. I should've kept a closer eye on you, protected you from anyone who might even think of laying a hand on you.." His voice trembles, and you're surprised to see your brother so raw, so different from his usually so very controlled self. You hardly even recognise him, but you can't help but think that you should be used to it by now.

You find yourself in a tight embrace, feeling both unsettled by his strong arms wrapping around you like a vice, a snake, yet somehow safer. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to speak.

"Did.. did he do anything?" You try not to let your fright show, but your voice comes out a hoarse whisper. He finally lets go, and shoots you a concerned, puzzled look. He takes a deep breath before talking again. "How much do you actually remember of what happened? You were barely conscious when they brought me to you."

You try and think it over. But the last thing you remember is sneaking off to the powder room to gossip with an old classmate of yours. Idesta Harrington. She'd been a childhood friend, although you hadn't stayed in touch since you seemed to run in different circles once you'd gone off to the Academy.

Although a lot had changed, she was one of the few whom Coriolanus did not deem 'beneath the Snow name' or otherwise not suitable to be around you. You knew he'd been in the same grade as her older brother, nicknamed Pup, too. You couldn't for the life of you remember anything distinct about him.

"Everything after I went to the ladies room with Dessie is just.. gone. Blank. Don't remember any of it," You try to speak, but this time a sob gets caught in your throat, the shame and shock you felt threatening to spill over.

Coriolanus takes note of this. He's relieved, but not particularly surprised that you believe him. It very well could have happened anyways - with how wasted and vulnerable you'd been. He'd have to figure out how to deal with the imaginary attacker later.

Perhaps he'd have to choose from one of the actual gamemakers to banish to the districts, or he could take one of the few Capitol-born traitors currently awaiting punishment. He'd have to probe doctor Gaul for which member of the team she'd be least upset about losing.

Whatever he needed to do to show you that he would always be the one to keep you safe, to reinforce what he already knew but had yet to get through your disgracefully thick skull. Truthfully, Coriolanus didn't know why he was so protective over you sometimes.

"You were discovered before he could do anything to really hurt you. I would've never forgiven myself if.." He trails off, letting you believe he struggled to even say it aloud. It worked as intended, and you practically throw yourself into his arms, gripping his shoulder tight.

"It's not your fault, Coryo," You insist, sobs wracking through you as you hold onto him.

He didn't necessarily enjoy seeing you so frightened, so distressed, but he felt powerful like this. You had never once made him feel unsure or lesser than in the way Lucy Gray did. You were so much easier, safer to love. He relished the feeling.

"I know, dove. But I was so worried," He sighs, petting your hair as your head rests on his shoulder, burrowing into his pale neck. You allow the almost overwhelming, but familiar scent of roses that followed him around to comfort you somewhat.

"I didn't want you to sleep alone, I'm sorry, I just couldn't let you out of my sight. My conscience wouldn't let me," He kisses the top of your head, and you nod in understanding.

You don't question even for a second that what he's saying is the truth. You hadn't seen him so distressed ever. Even when he sat you down and explained that he had enlisted all those years ago, or the prospect of selling the penthouse, he had been more so embarrassed and shut-off than distressed, like he was now.

You find yourself thinking that maybe you'd misjudged him. Maybe, he was just as damaged and conflicted as you, rather than evil through and through. Torn between his protective, caring instincts and the ruthlessness his career of choice demanded. You try to scour your emotions, looking for anything that stood out or suggested otherwise, but you find nothing tangible.

Something about the situation still feels wrong, though. You just can't figure out what. You chalk it down to the shock of finding out about the danger you'd been rescued from last night. Everything he'd said made perfect sense in your head - he'd even respected you enough to leave your clothes on, instead of giving you the bath you truthfully needed by now. And why would he lie about such an awful thing? He wouldn’t go that far.

As he cradled your trembling form in his arms, you knew that this, this was the Coriolanus you cherished and loved. The one who made you feel so safe and doted on and adored, even in the darkest of times. For the first time in many years he felt like the Coryo you remembered from your childhood again.

A couple weeks had passed since then. The two of you had grown closer, largely thanks to Coriolanus' unwillingness to let you leave his side. You couldn't blame him for that, though - he seemed perhaps even more traumatised by what happened that night than yourself. You couldn't bear the thought of worrying him even more, and since you didn't have much to do anyways, you complied. You figured the paranoia would fade sooner or later.

But he'd taken it a step further by insisting on assigning you security detail for whenever he wasn't around as well, even inside the house. You'd grown quite fond of the first one he assigned, Salomon, though you just called him Sal for short. He was around your brother’s age, short but stocky, with buzzed chestnut brown hair that appeared reddish in the sunlight. You knew because he'd always follow you around on the sunny afternoons you spent tending to the part of the garden Coriolanus had allowed you to make your own. You'd enjoyed listening to his anecdotes from 'back home', which in his case was district four. It was so unlike your life in the Capitol.

But one day, Salomon was gone, just as you'd started to really warm up to him. In his place was a tall, broad-shouldered man who appeared to be in his thirties, but his face was rough, hardened and his storm grey eyes, devoid of any pop of colour, looked as if he himself might as well have witnessed the chain of disastrous events that had led to North America becoming Panem. A cold, cut-throat military man. He was a man of few words, watching over you like a hawk and bringing an uncomfortable, prickly tension with his presence into your everyday life.

You attempted to bring it up with your brother over dinner. He'd coolly explained that it was for your own safety - Salomon had only been a placeholder until he had found someone better suited to keep you safe, someone he could fully entrust with your safety. Still, you'd pleaded your case of how you missed the company Sal provided, and Coriolanus promised you that he would find more time for you outside of work to make up for it personally.

He didn't seem to grasp the concept of you desiring a social life outside of him, which was beyond concerning, but for now you figured that was the best you would achieve. After months of feeling so confused and nothing short of isolated, you were much too exhausted to risk going back to that by confronting him.

Although the both of you had warmed up to each other more as of late, he was still rigid in his decisions - Coriolanus always needed to have the last word. You tried to accept him as he was, and you even felt as though he might be letting up on his sometimes overly controlling tendencies on his own. Just a little bit, enough to give you a spark of hope.

However private Centho, as you'd come to find out he was called, even after a week, still brought malaise to your life every time you had to be alone with him. You couldn't bear it. Finally, you'd come to an agreement with your brother - inside the safety of the presidential palace, you would be allowed privacy. No more security detail. You figured the storm had blown over by now and that was that.

Yet, now that he could no longer station someone outside your bedroom door at night, the deal came with the condition that you would instead sleep in his every night. He had arranged for the staff to bring you a spare bed that was placed a couple feet away from his own. But somehow you always woke up to find yourself snuggled up to him every morning, without fail.

At first you told yourself it was just the winter chill. His bedroom was large and airy with massive windows, so you figured that made the most sense. But the snow had started to melt away bit by bit already, and regardless, you were provided with infinite warm pyjama sets and bedding. That was no excuse.

Perhaps it was the size and roughness of the mattress. It was of the highest quality you'd find in a folding bed, but it didn't compare to the comfort offered by the plush, extravagant bed you'd grown accustomed to. You wondered if you were starting to become spoiled.

The whole situation reminded you of a book you'd read when you were little, one of the many that you had been forced to burn in the fireplace to keep warm during the dark days. It was about a princess who'd been tested to see if she was noble enough to marry a lonely foreign prince, using a single pea that was placed under tens of mattresses stacked on top of each other. If she was worthy, she'd feel the pea when she laid down through all of those layers.

You'd imagined that one day, when your family was by some miracle no longer dirt poor, you might get to marry a 'prince' too. Of course, there was no such thing as royalty in Panem. That belonged in the old world. Here, you didn't need a title to be important - you needed money and influence.

Finally, you'd had to come to the conclusion that in truth, it was his warmth, his embrace that you were after. He was often too busy for you in the daytime, and although you enjoyed getting to spend more time with Eugenie again, you wanted him. It was his company you were after.

You'd missed out on so much when you were little - first, he was always studying, and then after he'd graduated the academy, he was all about both studying and building his career. You wanted to finally get a chance to bond with him, properly this time. The real him.

But once he brings you to the cell your supposed attacker is being held in, you begin to feel that perhaps, he's just as unpleasant if not more beneath the surface.

You vaguely recognise the man, although you can't quite put your finger on it.

Then it hits you like a bucket of ice falling over your head. Romulus. Romulus Dolittle, the youngest son of your former neighbours. He'd been your first friend, you first crush, your first and only kiss. Even if it had just been a quick peck.

Despite the glass wall separating you from the gaunt, bludgeoned prisoner you once called your friend, you can tell he knows exactly who you are, too.

"This, is Romulus Dolittle. You might remember him from the Corso, before his family moved away. Regardless," Coriolanus is clear-spoken and seems entirely unfazed at the sight of the bloody pulp right before your eyes, as if this was a daily occurrence for him.

You can feel bile rising in your throat at the thought that it very well could be - is your brother the one who did this to him? Had he personally made the poor man's life a living hell on the daily?

"You don't expect me to believe that he attacked me, do you?" You interrupt before you can even consider your words. Coriolanus' jaw ticks as he turns to look at you, and you feel as if you want to crawl out of your own skin.

He puts on a cold, thin-lipped smile. When he speaks again it's in an overly calm, smooth tone, as if explaining a complicated subject to a small, petulant child.

"If you had let me finish, you'd know that he is not here under suspicion of attacking you. He was involved in a rebel conspiracy." He explains, the disdain in his voice as he utters those last two words barely concealed.

Your fingernails dig into the skin of your palms as you resist the urge to claw your brother's eyes out. The hint of a self-satisfied smirk in his eyes tells you he knows just as well that the bloody pulp of a man was innocent.

"Why are you showing me this?" You manage to keep a steady tone, feigning nonchalance as best as possible. And although he plays along, you can tell Coriolanus is not buying it. He turns away from you again, facing the glass barrier separating you from the supposed traitor once more.

"Because, Hersilia. You must understand, that even those you trust the most, even your oldest friends, will betray you and everything that the Capitol stands for, if they believe it is in their best interest." He begins, and the urge to tear the flesh off of his smug face returns for a brief moment.

Then you watch as two peacekeepers enter the cell, dragging Romulus out in chains.

"Tomorrow, after he has been cleaned up, the very first public execution in the history of the Capitol will take place."

The whole encounter left you in a state of shock. Once you'd returned to the manor and finally calmed down a bit, your brother had played the recording of Romulus' confessing to the crime, although you could tell by how hoarse his voice that he'd been screaming before. It was likely brought on by torture at the hands of the peacekeepers guarding him.

You could tell Coriolanus was trying to twist the situation in his favour, as he always did. But this was all too much. You felt as if he was taking you on a sick rollercoaster that would only lead you into your impending death.

You knew you couldn't go on like this. You had to do something about it. But how?

Meanwhile, Coriolanus could feel you slipping away from him. He must've taken it too far, and above anything too soon, with showing you Romulus' fate. He thought he could take advantage of your inevitable breakdown to reinforce his status as being the one to comfort you and care for you no matter what, but it seemed that this time, he couldn't.

He did everything he could, against your will he held you as you cried until your eyes dried up, allowed you to wander about the house more freely, he had even given you permission to go into town without him again so long as you brought someone with you. And Centho was finally off your back no matter the unease he felt at being unable to watch over you through that man's observations.

He'd instead opted to give you a diary of sorts to write your thoughts down in, an elegant black leather book with a silver padlock and your name engraved in cursive. Hersilia Honoria Snow. He figured that if you were going to insist on shutting yourself off from him, you might instead turn to something else, and he would much rather see to it that he was in control of that variable rather than give you true freedom.

But, you refused to write anything, and the spare key he had neglected to tell you about only provided him with two hundred blank pages worth of insight.

You had stopped making small talk with him almost entirely. All you did was ask too many questions about Romulus, asking to see Tigris, trying to convince him to let you spend time with Persephone and Remus again. He had to remind you that Remus and his family was only spared from execution because of the scandal their deaths would otherwise cause, and that quickly shut you up. Coriolanus doubted the man would be keen on spending time with someone who falsely accused his little brother and got him killed regardless.

He on the other hand was pleased to have smashed two birds with one stone. No more cannibal friends, no more sleeping on your own and leaving him in the dark. But he needed you to trust him again. Everything had been going so well until now.

So he gave in. You would finally get to see your dear cousin again and get some well needed answers.

Well, you wouldn't get any of those, but you didn't need to know that. Yet.

taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse, @priyajoyy, @euphemiaamillais @harvey-malfoy

#banner credit: @benkeibear #minors dni #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x you #named reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #thg fanfiction #eventual smut

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returnofnonya · 11 months

Text

From Thief To House Husband Part 3: Finale

Life was nearly perfect now. The eldest son of the Smith family was under my control. Or rather, under the control of my best friend Roy. Regardless he was too busy going to raves at gay clubs and getting his back blown out at night to cause me any more problems.

The other two Smith boys had already moved out and were enjoying their independence, so things were going perfectly.

Until Mrs. Smith came home. I had to pretend to love this woman, which was difficult because quite frankly I didn’t even like her. I was able to endure it until she told me that she got promoted again, this time to a position that would require less travel. No more business trips to leave me alone so that I could have my free time.

I tried putting up with her, but apparently distance creates longing. She wanted to spend time with her husband, oblivious to the fact that he didn’t even exist anymore. I couldn’t take it anymore, so on Christmas Day her annual handmade gift was divorce papers that I printed out after my lawyer sent them over.

Rather unfortunately for me, she was the breadwinner and stood to keep a pretty hefty sum of her fortune. I knew I had to sabotage her in the divorce, so I’d have to call upon the only potential ally I had left, Officer Kevin.

Kevin was an older guy on the police force, now a detective. He had always shown Roy and I mercy and tried to help us get on the right path. One of the only good pigs in existence as Roy and I would put it. I knew he had his regrets, so I decided to stop by the station and give him the opportunity of a lifetime.

Upon my arrival I requested to speak with him privately, and being a rich white man I found that it was pretty easy to walk into a police station and ask for whatever I wanted. In a matter of minutes Kevin and I were alone in the conference room.

“Uh…Mr Smith, it’s a pleasure as always to see you, but the incident happened almost a month ago. I’m not sure how else we could possibly help you.” He stated, confused.

“Not the police department, but you, Kevin Bacon.” I grinned, a nickname Roy and I had for him.

“Oh I see Roy has been influencing you a bit, yes?”

I shook my head. “No. Mateo. See Bacon, I didn’t die. I transferred myself into a new, fancy body.” I pulled out my briefcase and showed him the vials. “Each of these can extract my consciousness and allow me to focus on someone. They allowed me to take over this asshole, and for Roy to take over his son. Our lives have been paradise, but unfortunately this body’s wife has returned home. I filed for divorce, but there’s a problem. His wife is being represented by Santiago.”

Bacon caught on surprisingly quickly having seen lots of strange things unfold in his time on the force. “I see…it does suck for you that ‘your’ wife is being represented by the most bloodthirsty lawyer out there.” Bacon hated Santiago, he was one of the best lawyers around and loved by rich white trash. He could get DUI charges of a rich kid shotgunning tequila on a security camera behind the wheel of his car dismissed and sealed from the records.

“Yes, right now we both hate him, so I have a proposal for you. Become Santiago. Sabotage my wife’s chances against me, get me as much money as you can. Then you can spend your life as a relatively younger and incredibly wealthy lawyer and make sure he never lets another scumbag off easy.”

Bacon thought about this proposal, and his life. He got into the force to make the world a better place and tried to help good guys in bad situations like Roy and I. He had obviously failed in that department given that he and I stole other people’s lives and bodies. Come to think of it, he didn’t accomplish a single one of his goals. Surely by taking an asshole like Santiago’s body, he could stand to make some changes in the world using his resources and connections!

“…okay, I’m in.” He said, hesitant and determined at the same time. We sat down and began forming the perfect plan.

Later that night Santiago was in his office. Highest floor of the building, of course. He was preparing himself for a charity gala, despite really not giving a fuck about anyone underneath his tax bracket. He likes to go and enjoy fine wine and network while cutting one the smallest checks at the event. Given the fact that my vessel was currently involved in one of Santiago’s cases, it was pretty easy to be let into his office. Bacon and I walked in together, a half filled vial in my pocket for when the time would come.

That’s when we saw him wearing this stupid outfit. What possible reason would he have to wear this to a gala? Apparently he read the shock on our faces and simply said, “It’s noir themed. Now how can I help you Mr. Smith? Here to beg for mercy in the coming divorce? Having a beat cop with you won’t intimidate me at all.” This seemed to piss Bacon off, so he chimed in right away, “No. We’re here to tell you that you’ll be famous for negotiating one of the worst divorce deals in history after we’re done with you.” He seemed determined, so I handed him the vial and he took it immediately, throwing his soul into the unsuspecting Santiago who groaned, stumbling back for a moment before chuckling.

“Oh my god! I’m 20 years younger, and apparently hung like a horse! But…why do I feel so light?” Bacon asked using his new mouth. “Simple. I gave you half of a vial. You’re not rooted inside of Santiago like I am into this asshole, and you won’t be unless I’m satisfied with how the divorce ends. Keep in mind my body died after I abandoned it, so who knows what will happen if the possession expires?” Bacon looked shocked but I just chuckled and walked up to him, copping a feel of his new tits. “I need my insurance policy. You’re a good guy, after all. Now how about you stop looking like a betrayed puppy and show me how big that new meat is?” Due to the stress of his job and his former age, it had been a while since Kevin got laid. He was in no position to say no.

Soon enough we were making out fiercely, me ripping his button shirt open and grabbing at his tits while he pulled my pants and underwear off in one swift move using his new body’s strength. “Put it in, I’m ready…” I whispered against his lips. He seemed shocked by that given Santiago’s size, but it made sense when he reached for my hole and realized I had a vibrator inside of me all day long. He pulled it out, earning a moan from me as he shoved himself fully inside, causing me to arch my back and moan even louder.

Santiago was a regular Casanova. His assistant was paid more than enough to turn a blind eye to the secret after hour meetings that went on in his office. The sound of skin slapping filled the room as Bacon hammered me like his life depended on it. Even with my prep Santiago’s meat was huge and earned more and more moans from me as I gripped the edges of the desk for dear life. “Goddamn he’s a monster! No wonder he’s so fucking audacious!” I moaned as I clenched my hole around his cock, leaning up to start sucking on his tits.

“I haven’t had sex this good since the fucking 80s!” Bacon moaned out as he slammed in and out of me. His attention was directed to a mirror in the office and he watched himself as he controlled Santiago’s body, forcing it to have sex with the enemy who he was about to sabotage the whole case for. He couldn’t hold it anymore and he slammed one final time, moaning loudly as he busted deep inside of me and triggered a chain reaction, making me shoot a high arch that splattered his tits. I was only human, there was only so much prostate abuse I could take.

We stayed still for a moment, both panting and covered in sweat, a stupid grin on our faces. “Mm…here’s to getting our perfect life, Bacon.” I said before smacking his ass. “Now, go and begin sabotaging this case then you can keep his body forever and drop by to have some fun with me and my son.” I winked and slid out from underneath him.

Soon after that life went exactly as it should have always been for me. Kevin honored his end of the deal and made sure to destroy my wife’s case against me by creating a fake affair, allowing me to get away with 60% of her assets. I then let him drink the rest of the vial and permanently become Santiago.

From there on, life was a breeze. My other sons cut contact with me, the one that stayed was a whore who loved pleasing me, and I had a massively hung lawyer who lived to please me and get me out of any legal trouble I found myself in.

My days of being a thief were behind me, for good now.

(I had some pretty severe writer’s block but I figured you guys deserved a finish story. Hope you liked the thief to house husband series!)

#male possession #older to younger #revenge #male body possession

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lutewife · 4 months

Note

Imagine dancing with fem! Alastor.... Especially in the rain

-⚱️

"Strangers in the Night"

gn!reader, platonic, lonely reader, sinner reader, no y/n written, reader is NOT a minor, only in retrospective

Warnings: Murder, existential crisis, really bad angst (im so sorry), overall freaky

Notes: Good to see you here with us Prochy anon 🫶 Finally somebody with style graced us with their presence, of course I can write it, darling! (I will make you cry with this, because I just knoooow how you love angst 🥰). I didn't write it in the rain cause Idk how rain works in hell so yeah haha

Summary: Reader comes back from a party, depressed and runs into The Radio Demon. Alas tries to make the reader smile, so she invites them to dance. But there is a twist...

Crossposted on Ao3: @domaiscool

You were coming back from a party. In your right hand there were scissors. You were playing with them trying to distract yourself.

Your head was hurting from the transient noise when you passed by the clubs and bars. Well, at least you thought it was by the noise. In reality, you just caught yourself on thinking too much again.

Was it the alcohol that did it for you? Probably.

You just wanted to get out of this loud district. You have had enough of drunk people and bad music for the night.

Yeah... The drunk people. Making out with eachother and whispering those sweet nothings into their ears constantly. Giggling and squeling.

It made you cringe, at least you wanted to think that. In reality, you were just too lonely to think "good for them". While being in hell, it was usually really hard to find a partner who actually loved you and wasn't just coming for your body. But at this point you just wanted what they had. You just wanted someone to rely on, to prey on. Actually even a friend, even family member, would be good. Your standards lowered when the loneliness got to you. Afterlife is sometimes like that and you just pretended you didn't care. It worked somewhat, at least it made you feel less depressed.

When you were drifting into your thoughts again, something, or maybe someone, interrupted you. In a spur of a moment you staggered, before finding yourself spread over on the ground, your butt hurting mercilessly, since you landed on the scissors.

- Hey! - you growled, massaging the sore spot, then got up quickly and looked before you.

It seemed like you arrived at the nearby park. Everything would be nice, amazing even, if you didn't have company. In front of you at the bench, was seated an elegant looking lady with some kind of walking stick, which probably was the reason of your hurting butt. Or maybe it was a cane? You couldn't make it out in such low light. What you knew for sure though, is that she was smiling from ear to ear.

- Oh, I'm sorry darling, did I startle you? That's what you get by walking with your head in the clouds! - said the woman, before robotically laughing. She didn't make any effort of giving you a helping hand. Whatever. It's not like helping people up was a common thing to do in hell.

You scoffed, trying to get the dirt off your clothes. Just as you were going to insult her in every possible way and language it hit you.

Red colour palette, cane, everlasting smile and the strangely familiar voice that was accompanied by the sound of the radio static...

You suddenly sober up.

- The Radio Demon...? - it slipped out. Terrified expression on your face didn't go unnoticed. The Overlord herself looked unbothered by the reaction.

- I'm sorry miss, I mean ma'am, I mean miss-misstress...? Uh... Lady? - you stuttered, the words seeming to fail you. She just grinned wider.

- Oh, how sweet! Now you're trying! - The woman seemed to make fun of your miserable attempts.

You just frowned even more, cringing. Nice. You were making a fool of yourself before The Radio Demon, who is more dangerous than fucking nitric acid. She could kill you here and there if she wished to. Fortunely, the woman didn't seem to want to. How reassuring.

Not knowing what to do with yourself, you sat down next to her, keeping your distance. It was too late to run away now.

The woman raised her eyebrow, noticing your movement, but she was rather pleased at your decision. At least you didn't fuck up that badly.

After some time she asked, as if casually:

- Why the long face, dear?

- Do I know you? - you responded with another question, wondering if you fucked up in the past and now she was coming for you.

- Oh, judging by your face, you know me very well - her smile almost extended beyond her face.

You felt absolutely terrified, but just as you were to stutter something out again, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth:

- Worry not, I don't want to hurt you.

You breathed out loudly. The woman seemed amused again (but with her expression it was hard to tell).

- Although I might change my mind if you won't brighten up that face of yours - her voice felt almost threatening, although her tone remained the same.

Intimidated, you tried to smile a little, but failed miserably. A loud groan escapes your lips.

- I can't. There's nothing to smile about in my life.

You could almost swear that The Radio Demon fought the urge to roll her eyes.

- No wonder you are so depressed, if you think like that - the woman stated dryly - Smile is a valuable tool, my dear. Even if you don't feel like it, you should use it - she lectured you, but you didn't feel like hearing her out. This was all a bunch of nonsense to you.

- No thanks, I'm not good at lying. Besides I don't like to - you said, dissmisingly, surprising the overlord. She didn't think of it that way before. Well, to be more precise, she has never had such a difficult audience.

The woman leaned on the cane slightly and stroked her neck, in thought.

- Do you enjoy dancing? - she finally spoke, her voice raised in question.

- Excuse me? - you felt perplexed at the sudden inquiry.

- I said, do you like dancing, my dear? - she repeated herself, expecting your baffled expression.

- I-I don't know? I've never danced before... - you just felt even more crestfallen and re-adjusted a strand of your hair that was getting into your eye. Was she planning something?The Radio Demon smiled even wider, knowingly.

- Well then... It is never too late to try! - she got up suddenly and gave you her hand.

In the moonlight, or should I say, in the deep red of the sky, she looked especially beautiful. Maybe even a little bit creepy, since her wide grin seemed really out of place in the low light. But the curly hair and wavy dress moving in the wind gave her a disturbing charm you couldn't really place a finger on. Either way, you took her hand warily.

Before you knew it, the woman pulled you along and snapped her fingers with the free hand.

It was strange. You were in hell, but the music which played that time was divine. Little lively melody, but oh goddess, how melancholic and real it felt. You didn't feel like you were a soul right now, even more so a demon; you felt like you were a child. Although a step away from innocence and step further into darkness. The woman really did sway you into a familiar rhythm. An unnaturally young soul, who wasn't suited for all the pain they felt. Finally: you smiled. But it wasn't a smile full of joy. It was a smile of regret.

Lost in the depths of hell, without a mother, or a father, or a sister, or a brother... Lost in the eyes of others, they simply forgot how to function themselves. Pulled into a tango with a much more powerful being, condemned to perdition in it's irises. A man who escaped from cruelty - that's who you were.

A younger version of you spoke, holding a pair of scissors. They were standing behind the woman you danced with and repeating it over and over again, but you didn't want to hear. You knew. And you didn't want to be reminded.

The music coming from the cane was starting to be even more hectic, not so divine as before. Now it was surely a music suited for hell.

Her dress was twirling. It reminded you of turquoise waves you've seen in the living world once. You wondered if the woman once was a human too, not some gruesome monster she was perceived as. Two strangers in the night, you seemingly didn't know anything about eachother, but danced nevertheless.

You were also amazed that you haven't stepped on her toes. It was a miracle, because you weren't thinking at all about your moves now. Too stuck in the past to be thinking rationally, you were yet to discover inevitable.

She twirled you and closing your eyes, you blacked out.

It went by like a flash.

Core memory of life. Playing in the night. Escaping from the courtyard. The smell of grass and trees. The scissors starring as a plane.

A deer. But was it?

Sneaking.

Closing eyes.

The tension.

And the release.

Scissors stuck in the flesh.

Happiness.

Momentarily.

It wasn't.

It wasn't a deer.

You were just depending on your mother. She told you to bring the dinner. Even your father was teaching you how to shoot animals. So you killed, because you weren't so keen on being hungry the whole week again. You liked your scissors more, although the animals fleed before you could stab them with it.

It was normal for you.

But what wasn't normal, was that you actually managed to kill it with your sharp scissors.

And that this time... It was a woman.

You groggily opened your eyes and winced. Your back was hurting.

- Fuck... - you groaned, getting up. You were seated on a bench. The same one The Radio Demon...

Oh.

Yes. The woman.

Where was she right now?

You could still almost feel her delicate hand on yours. Shuddering, you massaged it.

And then you felt something on your cheek. It was cold. A tear...?

And another. And another. Great. Now you were crying. Why? You knew exactly why. But you didn't even want to think about it. You wanted to erase it from your memory. Even if she probably killed more people than you ever did, even if she was now a monster, you just couldn't manage to stop your saddness.

Because you remember how she danced. Her twirling dress, the waves. Long, long time ago, she was human.

You'll block it out soon, surely. But before you do that, you decided to say one, important word:

- Sorry.

Proofread by: @koonczi

Fem!Alastor doodles on the header: @m00ndia

I still don't feel like it's good enough, but I hope you liked this lil' one shot :)

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fem!alastor #fem!alastor x reader #genderbend #alternative universe #gn!reader #angst #hazbin hotel angst

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too-much-gacha · 1 month

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Sweet dreams 1/4

disclaimer: this switches between referring to MC as MC and referring to MC as you, also is this extrovert!MC? I feel like it isn’t but maybe? I’m not sure. Also also, this can be read as romantic or platonic. Except for Luke. Luke is strictly platonic.

It's pretty common knowledge that ever since MC started consciously using magic, their room at House of Lamentation slowly became something akin to a mage’s tower. Though not in a “mansion-size extradimensional space in a kettle” way, but more in a “prevents unconscious use of magic from affecting everything around them” way. In hindsight- a particularly useful feature, when one's aware of how easily magic slips from the human exchange student when they're asleep.

In the beginning, it was small things: the house smelled like melted chocolate, butterflies in the greenhouse would blink at you with their wings or nearby flowers would recite disturbing rhymes. Soon things escalated. House of Lamentation is filled with liquid and everyone jumps at Levi for summoning Lotan again, but it’s not him. The liquid is actually… blueberry jelly? And Henry is outside his tank conversing with Satan’s pencil case about the latest discoveries within curses and hexes and how they relate to raising the prices of brushes for dogs, and after an hour or two it’s gone. Or that one time when suddenly Solomon had to run around Purgatory Hall trying to catch various potion ingredients when they decided to crown Luke as their Princes of The Pot Garden and carry him around. Things got hectic during one of the retreats at Demon Lord’s Castle. The film glitches during one scene and now instead of a dramatic reveal of the murderer there's a seal spinning in circles and a giant goose is chasing Mammon and Asmo and honking about eating cement and stolen homework in the UwU-voice. They are no longer in the Demon Lord's castle but in the car park of a supermarket, or rather the castle is the car park. And Mammon starts screaming bloody murder when the goose catches him in its beak. Then everything vanishes and MC wakes up, assuring they were watching the whole time and didn’t fall asleep. The puzzle pieces started to fall together after that, and that was one mystery solved. But why was MC falling asleep almost faster than Belphie? Well, the poor thing developed something akin to athletic heart syndrome. With so many stimuli, events and tasks happening every day, it became a default to always do something, be somewhere, help someone, play games with Levi, go clubbing with Mammon, pet Devildom cats with Satan bake with Luke, stop Solomon from baking with Luke, tinker with Thirteen, tea at demon Lord’s castle and so many more. Neither of those things bothered MC, they enjoyed each activity, but it became a norm to the point that if MC did something by themselves or just simply did nothing they’d fall asleep. Fortunately, for an identified problem, a more or less optimal solution can be found and everyone has their own idea of what to do when “a wild asleep MC has appeared”.

Lucifer

You were lying on the couch in Lucifer’s study, scrolling through Devilgram, while you waited for him to finish work.

You were planning on playing a round or two of chess after he’s done, but then Lucifer hears a thud. Your phone fell out of your hand.

Lucifer would come and cover you with his coat before going back to his task. He can handle a little unruly magic

But ultimately, when little fire creatures start jumping out of the fireplace and dancing together in circles, he decides that maybe it’s enough for today.

He puts your phone in his back pocket and picks you up, carrying you to your room, careful not to wake you up. Little fire sprites following right behind him.

You get tucked into bed with a little goodnight kiss on the forehead

And maybe just maybe if he will sometimes finish the rest of the documents while sitting in the bed with you

or maybe he’ll just leave them be and fall asleep with you

Satan

A lovely afternoon in the cat café by the park, herbal tea, pastries, whimsical cats and…

And you fell asleep, just as Satan was returning with a new bag of treats

Cats were starting to swarm around you as if you were their personal heater

If you were at HoL, reading together in his room or in the common room, he might have waited a bit, but this was the middle of the Devildom, so it was time to head home, but not before he could snap the picture of you surrounded by cats and sending it to the Cats group chat

As he carried you on his back, he felt something drop on his nose. There was no rain in the forecast for today, but that was chocolate dripping from the pink cloud hanging right above Satan’s head in a comically cartoonish way. Great. Just what he needed

He gets you both to your room, both sticky from syrup

the cloud dissipated somewhere around the kitchen, but it didn’t take all the syrup with it

“Did I fall asleep?” you ask drowsy

“Yes, do you want me to wash your hair? It’s all sticky from the chocolate.”

“Yes, please” he wonders if you registered what he said or was the reply purely automatic.

He washes your hair and does the same for himself. You wake up a bit more.

“To be honest. I’m having some munchies.” you hug him as he towels his hair. “Do you want some crackers and hot chocolate?”

Asmodeus

Nothing like a little self-care day with you putting on masks, styling each other's hair, painting nail–

“MC darling, you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fi–” a big yawn escaped you.

“Aww, I think somebody is sleepy” he accentuates it with a few head pats “I will run you a nice bath, and we can then snuggle up under blankets” you hummed in approval

He returned to his room to you sitting exactly the same, you even still had a hand raised mid-air like you were waiting for him to apply the next layer of nail polish, but the nail polish was applying itself everywhere but your nails

You fell asleep. You fell asleep!?

In other circumstances, he’d ask someone to carry you so he wouldn’t strain himself (gotta keep up the appearances)

But there’s no time for that if he wants his room and cosmetics in one piece and still useful

He picks you up bridal style and tiptoes to your room

He might then finish your nails, but he’d much rather snuggle up to you. He still needs his beauty sleep

Luke

Oh no! You fell asleep, better take the bowl with popcorn from your hands before both of you have a huge mess to clean up

To be fair, Luke almost fell asleep himself. The film wasn’t as interesting as you both thought it would be

But he knew what to do if you fell asleep, he had to ask somebody to take you to your room. Easy!

Except, nobody else was at HoL yet, and Luke heard murmurs from the half-empty bowl. The popcorn people were raising and arming themselves up

He can do it himself. He’s a big, strong boy. He doesn’t need other’s help. If Asmo and Levi can carry you, so can he.

He hooked his arms under your armpits and started dragging you off the sofa. Slowly, carefully so you won’t hit the ground. But the popcorn people started to breach containment, so he picked up the pace

Unfortunately, you were a bit too heavy for Luke and walking backwards did not help. He tripped on the edge of the carpet and fell, and you woke up when the floor met your head.

“Ouch,” you blinked once, twice. The popcorn army crumbled before Luke’s eyes, “Wow, would you look at the time? Come on Luke, we gotta get you to bed or Simeon will have my head”

You took Luke by the hand and started walking away, while he wondered what would happen if you hadn’t woken up. Would he be eaten by popcorn instead of the other way around

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me luke #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #fudge fudge fudge forgot to post it here

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fanficimagery · 2 years

Text

Angel’s Reina

The Sons of Anarchy have always wondered just what type of man SAMCRO's Princess was into, but she never dated. Or if she did, she was super secretive about it and managed to date undetected. Now, however, the Sons have some visitors and it seems they're finally going to find the answer to their long awaited question.

Words: 6.3K Author's Note: Sons!AU because Clay and Gemma make everything worse and I like to keep shit lighthearted and fun. Sorry.

For your entire life, being hailed as SAMCRO's princess felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders. Add in a mother like Gemma Teller and a stepfather like Clay Morrow, and it made life all the more difficult. Especially when puberty hit and the Sons of Anarchy suddenly became overprotective big brothers and uncles.

But while they were overprotective, they were also curious as to why they'd never gotten the chance to dole out some pain to a hormonal teenage boy who thought he could put his hands all over you. Jax and Opie were the ones who were most interested in your hopefully nonexistent dating life, but it was your mother who was attempting to plan a wedding to any Son of your choosing so long as it kept you in Charming.

And staying in Charming wasn't really in your plans until Clay wound up dead and your mother not too far behind him thanks to her binge drinking ways.

It took a while for things to calm down within the Sons after losing their President and Queen, but Jax and Tara filled their roles perfectly. You reluctantly took over for the garage, but not before Jax completely gutted it and then upgraded it. You didn't mind the paperwork and filing system, but technology made things faster and easier and you weren't about to fall behind like you mother constantly was.

Then when things actually were calm and Jax started to make peace with the other MC's, only then did everyone start to loosen up and be at ease without constantly looking over their shoulders.

When the clubhouse parties started back up, it was hectic. The Sons and the hangarounds were ecstatic that the sweetbutts made a reappearance, but they weren't too ecstatic at Tara's rules for them. You sat and watched, and then helped your sister-in-law rid the clubhouse of the women who wouldn't stop pushing up on the married men. And when the men made a pass at you, you made sure to pull rank- as much as you hated it- and send the men on their way less they get a beat down from either yourself or your brother.

After numerous parties where you sent men on their way, the Sons started to become curious as to why you wouldn't hook up with anyone. They weren't as overprotective as they once were and were truly curious as to the type of man you'd invite to your bed. But when you refused to talk about the type of man you were attracted to, they took it upon themselves to figure it out by having shirtless men walk around the clubhouse.

They knew you didn't like them too old, so half the Sons were out. You'd seen Opie naked more times than you'd like to admit and never were awkward around him, so he was out too. You admitted to thinking Half-Sack was cute, but he was too nervous around you given your last name and Juice was- well he was too much of a horn dog. You didn't think he had it in him to be faithful, so you were never tempted by him.

The closest they got to you cracking was when Happy stripped out of his shirt in the middle of the club so he could be tattooed. The way he leaned against the bar, jeans riding low and the V of his hips on display, made you pause, but fortunately only Tara was the one who noticed. Her eyes widened, but you quickly shook your head and busied yourself to make you forget about the attractive sight just on the other side of the room. She laughed, but it was easy to squash the crush on the stoic man when you remembered the whole reusing condoms phase he went through and everyone who had to get tested for a STD.

Fortunately for you, Tara keeps your secret, but it was only a matter of time before the others found out.

Especially since the day before Halloween the Mayans decide to roll in for a weekend visit.

Sitting in your air conditioned office, your knee bounces anxiously as you stare at the clock in the corner of your computer screen. It's Friday, which means Halloween is tomorrow, and you're more than ready to start preparing for your favorite holiday. The second the clock strikes five, you're up and out of your seat, and lunging for the door.

"Alright, motherfuckers, clock out!" You yell after exiting your office. "It's Friday, tomorrow's Halloween, and if you're not dressing up then you know the drill! I want the candy tubs filled so all the crotch goblins of Charming leave here with a smile!"

Laughter meets your ears, everyone knowing how serious you took Halloween, and the men on shift start making their way towards you to clock out for the day. You smile at each of them, pulling the beanie from your head and tossing it onto your desk.

"YN!" Jax shouts. "Get over here."

Seeing your brother standing out in the parking lot, you immediately strip out of your plaid long sleeve. You wrap the sleeves around your waist, leaving you in a tank top and jeans, and continue to make your way outside. You squint your eyes as soon as the sun hits you, but you can still see a few new faces standing around your brother.

With a hand shielding your eyes, you nod at him. "What's up?" You quickly glance at the men around him, nodding in greeting, and you grin when you see a familiar face. "Obispo!"

The Mexican man has a lot more gray in his beard than you remember, but he's still as handsome as ever. You turn towards him, arms wide, and embrace him with a smile. "Princesa, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Bishop?"

"You can tell me for the rest of our lives, but it doesn't mean I'm going to listen." You squeeze him a little before stepping back. "What brings you guys to our backyard? Club shit or pleasure?"

"A little bit of both." You glance at each man then, shaking your head in amusement when you see their amused grins. "Mija, this is Creeper, Angel, and Ezekiel (call me EZ)." Your eyes trail over each man and pray the blazing sun is good enough reason to blame the impending redness of your cheeks on. Each man is handsome in their own right, but there's one among the group that is making your insides squirm.

You've heard the names of the Mayans before, but never really had any pictures to put a face to the name. Now, however, as Angel Reyes stands before you, you can't help but appreciate how he looks in a long sleeve shirt with its sleeves rolled up and showing off tattooed forearms.

When you see Angel's arms flex, your gaze darts up to his eyes crinkled in mirth and you know he caught you ogling. Narrowing your eyes slightly in return, you're about to introduce yourself when an arm is suddenly wrapped around your shoulders and squeezing you to the culprit's side. You grimace and look up to find your brother smirking. "Gentlemen, this is YN. Princess of SAMCRO." You roll your eyes at the title. "If you need anything and Tara isn't around, you go to her."

"Yeah, yeah. Prospect's still on bitch duty. I only handle the nuisances."

"Nuisances?" Angel smirks.

"Mhm. Some sweetbutts are rather persistent when it comes to a man in a kutte. If you got an old lady back home and don't want anyone pushing up on you, let me know right now. And for the love of god, stay away from Ima."

Jax chuckles as you sneer at the blonde's name. "What'd Ima do now?" Bishop wonders.

"Still has her sights on Ope, can't handle taking orders from Tara or I, and thinks she should get some special privileges around here because she's been around for years." You roll your eyes. "I swear to god, Obispo, the next time she looks at me wrong I'm gonna take a bat to that prissy little car of hers."

"I thought your fighting days were over, mija?"

Jax barks out a laugh and you're quick to elbow him as the Mayans glance between the two of you in amusement. "She's a Teller, man. If she can't walk around with a kutte, she's gonna walk around with bloody fists."

"Shut up." You swat Jax's abdomen before stepping away from him. "I'm not a violent person."

"Not until Ima's involved."

"Whatever." You give your attention to the Mayans. "If you're sticking around through tomorrow, you guys gotta follow tradition."

"And what's that, querida?"

You gulp under Angel's stare and quickly avert your gaze. "If you refuse to dress up, you gotta hand over cash for the candy funds. Every year we set out a few tables of candy and the kids of Charming stop by. There's usually four or five stations- candy, chips, drinks and pencils with pencil toppers to encourage them to stay in school. Bobby's in charge of the grill and Juice is on music. It's my favorite night of the year and no one is going to mess it up for me."

"You guys don't have to chip in," Jax says and you gasp, scandalized he would say such a thing.

Bishop, however, chuckles and reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. You give a short happy squeal when Bishop pulls out a fifty and gestures for his boys to do the same. Jax rolls his eyes as you skip forward and pluck the cash from Bishop's hand, and then kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Obispo."

"De nada."

Creeper and EZ are holding out twenties when you glance at them, and you pluck them with a smug smile. When you move on to Angel, however, he pulls his cash back when you reach for it. "Don't I get a kiss too, querida?"

You narrow your eyes at the smug Mexican, heart pounding. When he continues to smirk, you roll your eyes and push up on the tips of your toes to kiss his cheek while plucking the cash from his hands. "There. Happy?"

"Over the moon."

You snort and turn around, folding the cash in your hands to pocket when your brother's next words make you tense. "YN, are you- are you blushing?"

"What? No!" You blurt a little too fast, eyes wide when you look up.

Jax's own eyes are wide, mouth agape in his shock. Slowly but surely, he starts to smile. "Did- did one of the Mayans just break our case wide open?"

"No!"

"Uh, what case, 'mano?"

"Nothing!" You whirl around, pointing a finger at Angel who's quick to step back with his hands up. "Don't worry about it."

"Holy shit." Your brother laughs. "He did!"

"It's fucking hot out here, Jackson! I'm red because of the heat!"

"Or you're red because you got a thing for them Spanish boys," he says a little too smugly. Your mouth drops open and he laughs even harder. "Oh fuck. Wait until I tell the boys."

Unable to think of anything that will deter your brother, you hit him with your shoulder as you pass. "You're a dick, Jax."

"Love you too, sis."

As the group of men watch YN Teller stalk off, Bishop chuckles. "Care to fill us in, el presidente?"

Jax glances back at the Mayans, grinning. "For a couple years now we've been trying to figure out just what type of man my sister is attracted to. She's never brought anyone around and while we know of a few people she thinks are attractive, none of them have made her blush like your boy Angel has."

Angel suddenly preens at the news, clutching his kutte and straightening it out, and EZ rolls his eyes before smacking the back of his brother's head. "Don't even think about it, hermano."

"Why not? Big bro doesn't seem to have a problem with it."

EZ glances at Jax and the blonde chuckles. "If he thinks he can handle her, I say go for it. My sis is a pain in the ass. It'll be hilarious to see her squirming for once."

Bishop shakes his head at his secretary. "If you go after la princesa, don't mess around with the sweetbutts. We don't need any unnecessary drama."

"Whatever you say, Bish. Whatever you say."

Jax laughs as he gestures for the Mayans to follow him inside. "Come on. Let's hammer out the details for the gun trade because come tomorrow this place is going to be Halloween central and my sister will cut a bitch if anyone ruins her night."

. .

As the night progresses, the clubhouse fills with its usual hangarounds and sweetbutts. You've opted to tend to the bar next to Half-Sack, keeping an eye on the happenings all around to make sure you don't have to interfere. Occasionally your gaze slides over Angel, eyes narrowing at all the sweetbutts gathered around the group. You keep telling yourself you're watching them more than usual because Jax and Opie are there, but you can't fool yourself for long. You're keeping an eye on which sweetbutt is gonna get the most disgusting chores around the club for getting too close to Angel.

"Wow. Jax wasn't kidding." Tara slides onto a stool across from you, eyes sparkling in amusement. "The Mayan, YN? Really?"

Your gaze snaps to your sister-in-law and you lower yourself behind the bar, arms crossed atop the counter as your chin rests on your arm. "I can't help it. He's so pretty."

"Wow. I for sure thought you were going to be attracted to the bald one after I saw you ogling Happy that one time."

You chuckle. "They're all hot, Tara, but Obispo is too old, Creeper looks like a strong silent type and EZ seems just a tad too goofy. His smile reminds me too much of Juice."

"What do you like about Angel then? That is his name, right?"

"Yes, and.." you sigh longingly. "I don't know. "He's just- he's pretty," you whine. Tara's head tips back as she laughs. "And then he started with the pet names in Spanish and the lady bits started tingling. It was lust at first sight."

"Do we have to worry about you starting a fight over the Mayan?" Your sister-in-law continues to giggle.

You sigh and then straighten up, grabbing up a dish towel and wiping down the bar top. "Nah. I mean I might glare and be a little petty, but I won't start an actual fist fight. Just a couple more hours and then I get to go home, and all will be well come tomorrow."

"Or he and every sweetbutt dressed in a slutty costume will test your resolve tomorrow night, and I'll end up having to babysit your ass."

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying this."

"Oh I am," she muses.

Tara keeps you company for the rest of the night, pulling you from behind the bar and taking great pleasure in seeing you squirming over some guy. You end up sitting with the group of guys, sandwiched between Opie and Happy, and doing your best to not look in Angel's direction. Then when the clubhouse starts to clear out, Jax has Juice bring out a dry erase board.

"What's going on?" Bishop asks as he takes in the names written on the board.

"They're making a bet on what my costume will be," you say.

"Please let it be something slutty," Tig begs. "Like last year! That was a great costume," he says while crossing himself and then holding his hands together as if in prayer. You laugh.

"What were you last year?" Angel asks, eyebrow arched.

You slowly grin at him. "Slutty nun."

"The stockings. Oh god, the stockings," Tig groans as the men all chuckle.

"Dios mío." Bishop snorts, shaking his head.

Every bet is worth ten bucks and you're not surprised over half of them guess you'll be something sexy and/or slutty- Velma from Scooby Doo, Harley Quinn, and a ringmaster being some of your favorite guesses. Even the Mayans get in on the fun, Angel and Creeper immediately going the slutty route as well with hopes of you dressing as a sexy cheerleader or a sexy witch. Surprisingly it's EZ and Bishop who take their time thinking about it, but while their guesses are of the non-sexy variety, they still don't guess it.

"You guys are insane." You chuckle as they argue over who's got it right, some even changing their guesses.

"But did we get it right, querida?" Angel wonders.

You shrug and stand, getting ready to call it a night so you're well rested for dealing with all the candy hungry little gremlins. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"And don't go changing your outfit at the last second, lass," Chibs calls out.

"I'm not." Your eyes roll. "But just a heads up, you boys are on your own tomorrow. I'll be here in the morning to make sure we have everything that you'll be setting up and then I'll be going back home to dress."

"It involves makeup, doesn't it?" Jax guesses. You slowly grin at him and the men all curse, hurriedly changing their vote yet again.

"Happy guessing, boys! I'll see most of you tomorrow evening."

You get several decent hours of sleep before you make your way back to Teller-Morrow Automotive and make sure the early rising sweetbutts and Half-Sack know how to decorate for the evening's festivities. Then after making sure everything is in order so the night will run smoothly, you swing by the local diner to pick up some breakfast before heading home.

You don't have to start getting ready until three or so, so you set an alarm and go back to sleep.

And then when your alarm goes off, you take your time in the shower to exfoliate and prepare yourself for the transformation you're about to go through.

The first thing you do after drying off is blow dry your hair. You don't want to curl it too soon, so you clip it at the back of your head to deal with later. Then shooting off a quick text to your neighbor to get her ass to your place, you get started on your makeup.

From your hairline down to the top of your chest, you paint yourself white. Your neighbor gets in just in time to paint the back of your neck and your back, and helps you decide where the best places to shade in black are. Your temples, eyes, mouth, neck and collar bones get shaded in black, and then your neighbor helps you glue on some golden decals around your face, brow, neck and collar bones. You use the gold paint to paint your nose and mouth, and then you keep a small fan on your face while your neighbor curls your hair for you before pinning it to one side of your head so your curls fall over your left shoulder.

As you're looking at yourself in the mirror, you decide to put in some whiteout contact lenses to give you an even creepier vibe. Your neighbor helps you into your strapless white lace dress with a short train that looks as if you walked through ash, and then you dip your fingers into the golden paint one by one.

"Holy shit, babe. You look hot," your neighbor gushes. You wrinkle your nose at her, counting down the minutes until your fingers dry so you can be on your way. "Are you sure you're not trying to impress someone?"

"I'm not." You laugh. "I've had this costume planned for weeks. It's not my fault the hot guys came after."

"Hot guys? What hot guys?"

"Mayans from down south. There's this one in particular who keeps calling me pet names in Spanish. It's taking everything in me to not climb him like a tree."

Your neighbor laughs. "Well if you do, take a picture of him so when you give me all the filthy details, I'll have a face to put to the name."

"Will do."

When you're all set to go, you grab your golden starburst crown and carry it with you. You didn't want to put it on and hit the roof of your car, so you figure you'll just put it on when you get to your destination. Then after kicking your neighbor out and locking up, you find yourself in your car and heading back towards your place of employment.

The orange and black streamers along the fence line of TM Automotive makes you smile, as well as the purple twinkling lights you can barely see since the sun was still in the sky. Inside the parking lot, there are four long tables set up- each table draped in a black, orange, green or purple tablecloths. One table contains nothing but buckets of candy, another is lined with small bags of chips, another has juice boxes, and the last has fun pencils, pencil toppers, and tiny toy desk companions for the kids to play with. There are even Halloween inflatables- a Frankenstein, a patch of cruelly smiling pumpkins, and a black cat- and you can't help the giggle that escapes you.

Parking off to the side of the building and away from prying eyes, you hurriedly get out and use the reflection of your window to put your crown on. Once it's situated, you start your trek around the side of the building and towards the front where everyone is lingering about.

Jax spots you first and his brow furrows before you smile, wiggling gold-tipped fingers at him. "Cat got your tongue, Jackson?"

"Holy shit! YN?"

Angel, who'd been laying on his bike, smirks before pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. "Damn, mami, you do that yourself?"

"Yep." You strike a pose for them before giggling. "So, I think my costume falls under the category of skeleton. Who had that?"

Bishop raises his hand and the gathered men all groan as a roll of bills are passed over to him. He's all swagger as he saunters up towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Te ves hermosa (you look beautiful)."

"Thank you, Obispo."

Everyone approaches you, getting a close up of your makeup and wondering if you truly did do it yourself. And after you've answered their questions, you're surprised when Creeper asks if he can take a picture with you.

"Yeah. Of course."

You oblige him, standing just to the side of him as he takes a seat on a chair. With one hand on his shoulder, you glance off to the side as he stares the camera head on. Then for the second picture, you're staring straight at the camera so they can capture how wicked your eyes look.

"What about me, querida? Do I get a picture too?" Angel asks.

"Oh! I have the perfect idea," Juice says. Then looking at Angel, he says, "Sit up."

You can only shake your head in amusement, stepping closer to Juice as Angel hands his phone to the Puerto Rican. Juice proceeds to have Angel sit sideways on his bike, feet planted on the ground so his knees are parted. Then you're instructed to stand between Angel's knees as one of his hands grips onto his handlebar and the other gently holds onto the back of your thigh. Your breath lightly hitches, but it's still obvious to Angel as he smirks up at you.

"Shut it," you mumble.

Juice then instructs you to lightly cradle the side of Angel's face in your hand, your gold-tipped fingers sticking out against his dark facial hair. You hear many catcalls and swallow down a laugh, finally snorting when you hear Opie grumble, "Goddammit. She wore makeup on purpose so we couldn't see her blush."

Juice snaps a couple pictures of you and Angel staring into each other's eyes, and then he moves to stand behind Angel's back. Now both of Angel's hands are on the back of your thighs and you're looking up over his head, staring directly at Juice as EZ fixes his brother's kutte upon Juice's suggestion. He has you looking at the camera head on then, and he snaps a few more pictures.

"Thank you, mi reina," Angel murmurs when you're finally allowed to step back.

You quietly groan and tug on the hair at his chin. "Shut it. I actually know what that one means."

He chuckles darkly and lets you walk away to collect yourself. Then as you make sure the tables are all set and those who are going to help you pass out the goodies are ready, Angel and Juice huddle together so Juice can edit the pictures on Angel's phone with settings that the Mexican didn't even know his phone had.

The trick-or-treating starts before the sun even sets.

Parents used to be hesitant to let their children into the decorated parking lot for Halloween, but you did the most to change everyone's opinion about the MC. Not everyone approved of the tactics the Sons used to keep their streets clean and children safe, but the locals were less hostile towards the Sons now and even uttered a greeting to them when seen out in public.

The Mayans sit off to the side with the Sons who haven't been tasked by YN to hand out goodies, sipping on their beers and eating food that someone had grilled.

"Man, the people of Santo Padre are nothing like this," EZ says, gesturing to the people who are laughing and taking pictures. "They either hate us or are terrified of us. None of them would greet us with smiles like this."

"It wasn't always like this," Jax says. "They used to tolerate us- greeting us to be polite but then scurrying away."

"What changed?" Bishop wonders.

"YN." Opie grins as he watches the woman he sees as a sister. "As soon as Clay and Gemma kicked the bucket, YN fought tooth and nail to turn shit around for us."

The Mayans all glance at Jax at the casual way Opie mentioned his mother and Clay's passing, and the blonde shrugs with a chuckle. "It's no secret YN was dying to get out of Charming because of Gemma and the trouble Clay landed us in, but with them out of the picture she decided to settle down and help clear the club's name."

Angel glances at YN, watching as the kids happily greet her while some even high five her in greeting. He only has eyes for the skeletal queen that Tig's chortle startles him out of his staring. "Oh shit, boys. Ima incoming."

Everyone glances in the direction Tig is looking, but only Creeper sits a little straighter at the blonde bombshell sauntering her way towards them in a sexy nurse outfit.

"She might be hot, gentlemen, but she's not worth the trouble," Jax says. He leans back in his seat, arching an eyebrow as the woman in question nears. "What are 'ya doing here, Ima?"

"It's a party, Mr. President," she muses. "Isn't it an open invitation?"

"It is, but you also know it's YN's favorite holiday and you take sick pleasure in pissing my sister off."

The tightening of her smile is obvious, but no one says anything. "I promise to be on my best behavior," she says. "And besides, we have guests." Her eyes practically sparkle as she looks at each and every Mexican. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't show them a good time?"

Opie snorts, not bothering to cover it up or explain himself as Ima glares at him.

"We're good, mujer," Bishop says.

"Speak for yourself," Creeper mutters.

Ima hears him and practically perks up, sauntering towards him and placing herself in his lap. Everyone chuckles, shaking their head, but they figure this is a mistake Creeper needs to make and learn from for himself.

"Well while you're diddling the Sons' sloppy seconds, I'm gonna go check on mi reina," Angel muses as he stands.

Jax chuckles. "I got twenty bucks that says you can't drag my sister away from candy duty."

"You're on, vato."

"YN?" Ima petulantly pouts. "If you're looking for a good time, I'm loads better."

Creeper quietly groans as EZ starts to laugh. "So close." He pushes Ima off his lap and the blonde scoffs before stomping off when she realizes the group of men are not going to cater to her hurt feelings. "Are all the females like her?"

"Nah. Most of them are pretty decent," Jax says. "They're just being on their best behavior right now because kids are coming and going, and they know my sister will kick their ass if they step one toe out of line."

Everyone watches as Angel takes his leave, startling YN as he comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist while laying his chin on her shoulder.

"Are you really okay with that?" Bishop asks, gesturing to his secretary and Jax's younger sister. "If that's gonna be an issue, I'll warn him off."

"It's fine." Jax waves him off. "Let them have their fun. But if he tries to take her back to Santo Padre, then we're gonna have issues."

Opie laughs as EZ's smile falters. "YN is the only one who properly knows how to run the garage. If she splits, we're fucked."

Creeper chuckles as he keeps an eye out for a female to keep him company later on. "Don't say that, man. Bishop will encourage Angel to bring the girl home if it means she can get the office at the scrap yard in order."

Bishop salutes him with his beer bottle. "Chucky's a big help, but Lord knows we need someone else in there."

As the Mayans and Sons laugh over shared stories of Chucky and how he's faring down in Santo Padre now, Ima glares at the interactions from the opened doorway to the clubhouse. The hottest Mayan of the group chats up YN Teller and the other patched member she had sat on the lap of catches the attention of another passing sweetbutt. So far her night was not going well and she was not happy about it at all.

. .

Once the trick-or-treating is over for the night, you head into the bathroom to remove the golden decals from your face, leaving them only on your neck and collar bones, and then retouch your Halloween makeup. You even lose the crown before grabbing a beer and then head over to the group of men you felt at ease with.

As you're walking towards an empty seat, Angel surprises you by grabbing you by the wrist to tug you down onto his lap. Your eyes widen, though it's tough to tell with the way you're all painted up, but Opie still snorts his amusement. "Goddammit. The makeup is still covering the blush."

Hearing his words, you glance over at your best friend and flip him off as you let yourself relax in Angel's embrace. By the way he's holding your waist, he has no intentions of letting you up. So turning on his lap and snuggling down so you can rest your head on his shoulder, you ask, "Am I here because you want me here or because the sweetbutts are circling?"

"Because I want you here." You take a sip of your beer, grinning. "And because your arch nemesis keeps making the rounds, waiting for a green light from one of us."

"Of course she is." Your eyes roll as you look for the blonde in question. "She's angling for the title of old lady, no matter the charter. Whatever puts her in a higher rank than me, she'll take it and then use her position to order me around."

"What's her deal?"

"She used to fuck my brother in hopes of him giving her his crow, but then Tara came into the picture and stole his attention. When she wouldn't let up, I kicked her ass." You lift your head to take another sip of your beer, smirking when Angel groans at the thought of you being violent. "Then she honed in on Opie after his wife died and I shut that shit down. He got together with Lyla soon after and Ima tried coming in between them, so I kicked her ass again."

"You like throwin' hands, don't you?"

"If I need to, then yeah. I'm very protective of those I consider mine," you tell him. "So, if you need someone's ass beat down in Santo Padre, you know where to find me."

Angel chuckles as the hand resting on your thigh squeezes. "I'm yours, huh?"

"Mhm," you hum.

Your lips twitch as you hold his stare, your gaze briefly glancing at his lips as you subconsciously lean towards him. All the noise surrounding you seems to fall away, but before anything interesting can happen, a hand is landing on your shoulder.

"Goddammit, Tig! I was just about to win the bet," Juice complains.

Jax, Opie, Happy, Chibs, Bishop, and EZ explode with laughter, and you narrow your eyes at all of them. "What bet?"

"How long it'd take for you and Angel to hook-up," your brother muses.

Angel chuckles beneath you and you roll your eyes, standing up. As you finish off your beer, Tig says, "Hey sweet face, I heard Ima spreading some rumors about you to anyone who'll listen."

From the corner of your eye, you see the blonde in question falter in her steps, but you pay her no mind. "I don't give a shit who talks behind my back. Bitch knew better than to let me hear." Tig laughs, his gaze darting between you and Ima, but she doesn't say anything in response. Sighing, you then glance around at all the men who were hoping for some drama. "Anyone need a beer?"

As the night progresses, Angel's lap becomes your personal seat. You've tried four different times to sit on a couch or chair, especially when a sweetbutt sidled up to him when you made a trip to the bar or bathroom, but he always caught you and dragged you back towards him as you tried to pass. No one said a word and the sweetbutts backed off when they realized you were interested in him, but you had to shake your head at your brother when you could see the amusement and approval in his eyes.

You ended up having only two beers before you switched to water since you still had to drive home, and Angel stopped after three. Everyone's talking and laughing, and it makes your heart happy to see both MC's getting along.

By the third time you've yawned, Angel taps your thigh and urges you to stand up. "Come on, hermosa. Let's go."

"Go? Go where?"

"You need sleep."

Angel grabs your hand just as you catch Jax's gaze and at his arched eyebrow, you shake your head. You will not be spending the night in the dorms.

But still you walk hand-in-hand with Angel, letting him lead the way down a familiar hallway and towards a dorm that Jax most likely assigned him. Just as he moves to grab the key from his pocket, you place a hand on his arm to stop him. "As much as I wanna spend the night with you, I need to go home." Angel glances at you in surprise, mouth opening to reply, but you push on. "There's no way in hell I'm sleeping with all this makeup on," you say while gesturing to your face and upper body. "And I need my contact case for the lenses. I actually really like these."

Angel sighs, realizing you have a point. He gives up on the hunt for his room key, turning so his back is to the wall and he's holding onto both of your hands loosely in front of him. "Too bad, querida. We roll out as soon as we wake up tomorrow."

A moment of silence lingers between the two of you before your lips twitch. "Well.. you could always come back to mine." You step closer, dropping one of his hands so your hand can cradle the side of his neck before sliding back and scraping the back of his neck with your nails. His eyelids flutter as he quietly groans and you smirk. "Bed's big enough for more than one person."

"Is that right?" Angel gulps.

"Yep." You pull on his neck so he lowers his face towards you, but stop him when he's close enough for your lips to brush his. "Think of all the uninterrupted fun we could have." He tries to capture your lips, but you pull back just out of reach. "I would kiss 'ya, but I'm not about to smear my makeup all around your mouth and let those idiots out front know exactly what's going on."

His resolve seems to harden right before your eyes. "House. Now."

As soon as Angel straightens up, his grip tightens on your one hand and he practically drags you out of the hallway. You can't help but laugh at his eagerness, your laughter growing louder at the whoops and hollers you hear from both the Sons and Mayans as they watch him drag you away. Suddenly, you're very grateful for your skeletal makeup because you can feel your face and ears burning.

As you near the exit to the clubhouse, you can't help but smirk as you flip off Ima who's watching you and Angel with a frown.

Happy Halloween indeed.

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