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#even if less WAS better for someone that's so individualized

ms-demeanor · 1 month

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Friends, I think we need to talk about Covid.

I want to get a few caveats out there before I start:

I am aware that there are people who need to exercise extreme caution about Covid; I live with someone who has two solid organ transplants and who is at the most immune compromised level of immune compromised. *I* have to be extremely cautious about covid.

Masking does prevent a certain level of transmission, and people who think they may have covid should mask and people who are concerned that they may be at high risk for covid should mask.

You should be vaccinated and boosted with the most recent vaccines that are available to you; covid is highly transmissible and very serious, you do not want to get covid and if you do get covid you don't want it to be severe and if you do get covid you don't want to give someone else covid and up-to-date vaccinations are the best way to reduce transmission and help to prevent severe cases of Covid.

We should be testing before going to any gatherings, and informing people if we test positive after gatherings, and testing if we suspect we have been exposed.

It is bullshit that there aren't good protections for workers who have covid; you should not be expected to go to work when you are testing positive

It is bullshit that people who are testing positive are not isolating for other reasons; if you have Covid you should not be going out and exposing other people to it even if you are experiencing mild symptoms or no symptoms.

We do need better ventilation systems for many kinds of spaces. Schools need better ventilation, restaurants need better ventilation, doctor's offices and hospitals and office buildings need better ventilation and better ventilation can reduce covid transmission.

I want to make it clear that Covid is real and there are real steps that individuals and systems can take to prevent transmission, and that there are systems that are exerting pressures that needlessly expose people to covid (the fact that you can lose your job if you don't come in when you're testing positive, mainly; also the fact that covid rapid tests should be ubiquitous and cheap/free and are not).

All of that being said: I'm seeing some posts circulating about how we're at an extremely high level of transmission and the REAL pandemic is being hidden from us and, friends, I'm pretty sure that is just incorrect and we're spreading misinformation.

I'm thinking of this video in particular, in which the claim is made that "your mystery illness is covid" in spite of negative tests. The guy in the video says that there's nothing else that millions of people could be getting a day, and that he predicted this because a wastewater spike in December meant that there was a huge spike in cases.

I've also seen people saying that deaths are where they were in 2021-2022, and that we're still at "a 9/11 a week" of excess deaths and friends, I'm not seeing great evidence for any of these claims.

I know that we (in the US, which is where the numbers I'm going to be citing are from) feel abandoned by the CDC and the fact that tracking cut off in May of 2023. But that only cut off for the federal tracking.

I live in LA county and LA county sure as shit is still tracking Covid.

If you want a clearer picture, you can see the daily case count over time compared to the daily death count:

Okay, you might say, but that's just LA.

Alright, so here's Detroit:

Right, but maybe that's CDC data and you don't trust the CDC at this point.

Okay, here's fatalities in New York tracked through New York's state data collection:

It's harder to toggle around the site for South Dakota, but you can compare their cases and hospitalizations and deaths for early 2022

To cases and hospitalizations and deaths from early 2024

And see that there's really no comparison.

Okay, you might say, but people are testing less. If they're testing less of course we're not seeing spikes, and they're testing less because fewer tests are available.

Alright, people are definitely testing less than they were in 2021 and 2022. Hospitalization for Covid is probably the most clear metric because you know those people have covid for sure, the couldn't not test for it.

Here are hospitalizations over time for LA:

Here are hospitalizations over time for New York:

As vaccination rates have gone up, cases, deaths, and hospitalizations have gone down. It IS clear that there are case spikes in the winter, when it is cold and people are indoors in poorly ventilated spaces and people are more susceptible to respiratory infections as a result of cold air weakening the protection offered by our mucous membranes, and that is something that we will have to take precautions about for the forseeable future, just as we should have always been taking similar precautions during flu season.

So I want to go point-by-point through some of the arguments made in that video because I'm seeing a bunch of people talking about how "THEY" don't want you to know about the virus surge and buds that is just straight up conspiracism.

So okay, first off, most of what that video is based on is spikes in wastewater data, not spikes in cases. This is because people don't trust CDC data on cases, but I'd say to maybe check out your regional data on cases. I don't actually trust the CDC that much, but I know people who do tracking of hospitalizations in LA county, I trust them a lot more. Wastewater data does correlate with increases in cases, but this "second largest spike of the entire pandemic" thing is misleading; wastewater reporting is pretty highly variable and you can't just accept that a large spike in covid in wastewater means that we're in just as bad a place in the pandemic as we were in 2022. We simply have not seen the surge of hospitalizations and deaths that we would expect to see in the weeks following that spike in wastewater data if wastewater data was reflective of community transmission.

The next claim is that "there is nothing else that is infecting millions of people a day" and covid isn't doing that either. The highest daily case rates were in January of 2021 and they were in the 865k a day range, which is ridiculously high but isn't millions of cases a day.

But what we can see is that when people are tested by their doctors for Covid, RSV, and the Flu, more tests are coming back positive for the Flu. Covid causes more hospitalizations than the other two illnesses, but to be honest what the people in the video are describing - lightheadedness, dizziness, exhaustion - just sound like pretty standard symptoms of everything from covid to the cold to allergies. There are lots of things your mystery illness could be.

The video goes on to talk about the fact that people aren't testing, and why their tests may be coming back negative and I'd like to point out that the same things are all true of Flu or RSV tests. People might be getting tested too early or too late; getting a negative test for the flu isn't a good reason to assume you've got covid, getting a negative test for covid isn't a good reason to assume you've got the flu, and testing for viruses as a whole is imperfect. There are hundreds of viruses that could be the common cold; there are multiple viruses that can cause bronchitis; there are multiple viruses that can cause pneumonia, and you're not going to test for all of these things the moment you start feeling sick.

He then recommends testing for multiple days if you have symptoms and haven't had a positive test (fine) and talks about the location of the tests (less fine). Don't use your rapid tests to swab your throat or cheek unless it specifically says that they are designed to do so. Test based on the instructions in the packet.

He points out that the tests probably still pick up on the virus because they're not testing for the spike protein, they're testing for the RNA (good info!)

The video then discusses something that I think is really key to this paranoia about the "mystery illnesses" - he talks about how covid changes and weakens your immune system (a statement that should come with many caveats about severity and vulnerability and that we are still researching that) and then says that it makes you more susceptible to strep or mono and that "things that used to clear in a day or two now hit you really hard."

And that's where I think this anxiety is coming from.

Strep throat lasts anywhere from three days to a week. A cold takes about a week to clear. The flu lasts about a week and can knock you on your ass with exhaustion for weeks depending on how bad you get it. Did you get a cough with your cold? Expect that to take anywhere from three to eight weeks to clear up.

I think that people are thinking "i got a bad virus and felt really sick for a week and haven't gotten my energy back" but that just sounds like a bad cold. That sounds like a potent allergy attack. That doesn't even sound like a bad flu (I got a bad flu in 2009 and thought i was going to straight-up die I had a fever of 103+ for three days and felt like shit for three days on either side of that and took six weeks to feel more like myself again).

Getting sick sucks. It really, really sucks. But if you're getting sick and you're testing for covid and it's coming back negative after you tested a few times, it's almost certainly not covid.

The video then says "until someone provides evidence that it's not covid, it should be assumed to be covid because we have record levels of covid it's that simple" but that's not simple. We don't have record levels of covid and he hasn't proved it. We have record high levels of wastewater reports of covid, which correlates with covid cases but the spike in wastewater noted in december didn't see a spike with a corresponding magnitude of cases in terms of either hospitalizations or deaths, which is what we'd have seen if we had actual record numbers of covid.

He says that if you want to ignore this, you'll get sick with covid, and that about 30-40% of the US just got sick with covid in the last four months (which is a RIDICULOUSLY unevidenced claim).

He says that we need to create a new normal that takes covid into account, which means masking more often and testing more often and making choices about risk-avoidant behaviors.

Now, I don't disagree with that last statement, but he prefaces the statement with "it doesn't necessarily mean lockdown" and that's where I think the alarmism and paranoia is really visible here. We are so, so far away from "lockdown" type levels that it's absurd to discuss lockdown here.

What I'm seeing right now is people who are chronically ill, people who are immune compromised, and people who are experiencing long covid (which may not be distinct from other post-viral syndromes from severe cases of flu, etc, but which may be more severe or more notable because of the prevalence of covid) are talking about feeling abandoned and attacked and left behind by society because covid is still out there, and still at extremely high levels.

I am seeing people who feel abandoned and attacked because the lgbtq+ events they are attending don't require masking. I am seeing people who are claiming that it is eugenicist that their schools don't have a negative test policy anymore.

And this comes together into two really disconcerting trends that I've been observing online for a while.

The claim that the pandemic is still as bad as it's ever been and in fact may be worse but we can't know that because "they" (the CDC, the government, capitalist institutions that want you back in the office, the university industrial complex that wants your dorm room dollars) are covering up the numbers and

Significant grievance at the fact that people are acting like number one is not true and are putting you at risk either out of thoughtlessness (because they don't realize they're putting you at risk) or malice (because they don't care if the sick die).

And those things are a recipe for disaster.

I think I've pretty robustly addressed point one; I don't think that there's good evidence that there's a secretly awful surge of covid that nobody is talking about. I think that there are some people who are being alarmist about covid who are basing all of their concern on wastewater numbers that have not held up as the harbinger of a massive wave of infections.

So let's talk about point number two and JK Rowling.

Barnes and Noble is not attacking you when it puts up a Hogwarts Castle display in the lobby. Your favorite youtuber isn't trying to hurt you when they offhandedly mention Harry Potter.

If you let every mention of Harry Potter or every person who enjoys that media franchise wound you, you are going to spend a lot of your time wounded.

People are not liking Harry Potter at you.

Okay.

People are also not not wearing masks at you.

You may be part of a minority group that experiences the potential for outsized harm as a result of majority groups engaging in perfectly reasonable behaviors.

There are kind, well-meaning, sensible people who go out every day and do something that may cause you harm and it's not because they want to hurt you or they don't care about whether you live or die, it is because they are making their own risk assessments based on their own lives and making the very reasonable assumption that people who are more concerned about covid than they are will take precautions to keep themselves safe.

We are not at a place in the pandemic where it is sensible to expect people with no symptoms of illness to mask in public as a matter of course or to present evidence of a recent negative test when entering a public building in their day-to-day life.

I think now is a really good time to sit down and ask yourself how you expect things to be with covid as an endemic part of our viral ecosystem. I think now is a good time to ask yourself what risk realistically looks like for you and for people who are unlike you. I think now is a good time to consider what would feel "safe" for you and how you could accomplish feeling safe as you navigate the world.

I'm probably going to continue masking in most indoor spaces for years. Maybe forever. There are accommodations that SHOULD be afforded to people who have to take more precautions than others (remote learning, remote visits, remote work, etc.), and we should demand those kinds of accommodations.

But it is going to poison you from the inside out if you are perpetually angry that people who don't have the same medical limitations as you are happy that they get to go shopping with their faces uncovered.

So now I want to talk to you about my father in law.

My father in law had a bone marrow transplant in 2015. That's the most immune compromised you can get without having your organs swapped out.

The care sheet for him after the transplant was a little overwhelming. The list of foods he couldn't eat was intimidating and the limitations on where he could go was depressing. It cautioned against going to large events, it recommended outdoor gatherings where possible but only if he could avoid sunlight and was somewhere with no history of valley fever. It said that he should wear masks indoors any time he was someplace with poor ventilation and that he should avoid contact with anyone who had an illness of any kind, taking special note to avoid children and anyone recently vaccinated for measles.

It was, in short, pretty much what someone immune compromised would need to do to try to avoid a viral infection. Sensible. Reasonable. Wash your hands and social distance; wear masks in sensitive contexts and don't spend time in enclosed places with people who have a communicable illness.

This is what life was always going to be like for people who are severely immune compromised, and it was always going to be incumbent upon the person with the illness to figure out how to operate in a society that is not built with them in mind.

It is not the job of every parent I encounter to tell me whether their child has been vaccinated against measles or chicken pox in the last three months. That isn't something that people need to do as part of their everyday life. However it IS my responsibility to check with the parents I'm hanging out with whether their children have been vaccinated against measles or chicken pox in the last three months so I know if it's safe for my immune compromised spouse to be around them.

If you want an environment in which you feel safe from covid, at this point in the pandemic (when the virus is endemic and not spreading rapidly as far as we can see from case counts) it is your responsibility to take the steps necessary to make you feel safe. Some of those steps will involve advocating for safety improvements in public spaces (again, indoor ventilation needs to be better and I'm personally pretty extreme about vaccination requirements; these are things we should be discussing in our school board meetings and at our workplaces), some of those steps will involve advocating for worker protections, guaranteed sick time, and the right to healthcare. But some of the things you're going to need to do to feel safe are going to come down to you.

If you are concerned about communicable diseases you have to be realistic about the fact that our society doesn't go out of its way to prevent communicable diseases - norovirus among food service workers pre-pandemic is pretty clear evidence of that. You are going to have to be proactive about your safety rather than expecting the world to act like Covid is at 2021-2022 levels when it is measurably not.

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kelseytheballerina · 9 months

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Reflections on building a better me

Exercise is not optional. Mental satisfaction from completing yet another workout cannot be overstated. Physical satisfaction from feeling good and enjoying your body in clothes, the mirror, and photos cannot be overstated. Stop messing around, stop info hoarding, go exercise. And tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. And the next day.

Looking your best depending on circumstances (ie, casual, dressy, bedtime, etc) is not optional. External confidence from taking care of your appearance top to bottom and loving what you see in the mirror is highly valuable.

You feel better when you eat better. You’re proud of yourself when you eat better.

Hobbies, hobbies, hobbies. Do you feel embarrassed when someone asks what you do all day and you can’t come up with an honest answer that doesn’t make you sound like a loser with no life? You need hobbies. Some that are outdoors, some that are indoors. Some that are taxing, some that are relaxing. You will enjoy life more, become a more well-rounded individual, and have positive ways to spend your time rather than racking up more hours on your phone. Get some hobbies. Plural.

Procrastination and laziness should disgust you. You shouldn’t be able to relate. You should strive to be above that. You like yourself better when you complete your tasks and get things done in a timely manner. You’re proud of yourself when you’re on a roll and have a productive streak. You’re impressed by productive people and no one likes a lazy bum.

Decide what you want from life and pursue it ruthlessly. Don’t take advice from people who don’t have the life you want, unless they were once on your desired path and fell off. Even then, you listen to them when they say what NOT to do (learning from their mistakes) but clearly they don’t know what TO do bc they didn’t make it to the finish line. Take “do this” advice from people who crossed the finish line and have what you want. You’ll find that the amount of input that is actually valuable to you has suddenly dwindled. Good. Less chatter in your ears.

Get yourself in order before you go around critiquing everyone else. Get YOUR face in order. Get YOUR body right. Get YOUR money up. Get YOUR style in order. Get YOUR relationship together.

Stop coming to everyone for validation like a toddler. Validate yourself. Do you like it? Okay then. Are you over it? Okay then. Stop being so weak. Stand tall, lead yourself. Stop being such a follower.

Be a good person. Help your family, lend a hand to strangers, give back, say sorry, do things for loved ones just because, show affection, work things out, watch your mouth, speak respectfully, remember that the world owes you nothing. Stop being an insufferable freak.

You can’t change anyone but yourself. Get yourself in order and be a good role model. That’s all you can do. Give people advice when they want it and then go about your business. Get yourself in order. Get yourself in order.

Outrage content is the lowest form of entertainment. Engage in things that make you happy or educate you. Doom scrolling only leads to doom. Don’t like this person? Don’t click on their articles or videos. Unfollow and block. Don’t like these people? Leave their spaces. You don’t have to be outraged every day.

Always keep your word to yourself. Make a plan, stick to the plan, always deliver. If you can’t be reliable for yourself then who can you be reliable for?

#yours truly ♡

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dathen · 9 months

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We’re so used to the sexual reading of the entire book of Dracula, which takes the sensuality of the early chapters and jams everything that follows it into the same metaphor no matter how poorly it fits, but I feel the segment we’re approaching works much better with a lens of chronic illness and disease.

Vampire legends are inextricably intertwined with disease. Many of them are said to have been birthed by burying victims of disease too soon, who later seem to rise from the dead. But what’s more is that Stoker and his family have deep-seated trauma over disease: his mother had to flee her hometown at the age of 14 because of a horrific cholera epidemic, and Stoker himself was bedridden as a child from an illness that no one could identify.

Found this quote from Irish Historian Mary McGarry:

Bram as an adult asked his mother to write down her memories of the epidemic for him, and he supplemented this using his own historic research of Sligo’s epidemic. Scratching beneath the surface (of this essay), I found parallels with Dracula. [For instance,] Charlotte says cholera enters port towns having traveled by ship, and can travel overland as a mist—just like Dracula, who infects people with his unknown contagion.

I bring this up because a lot of academic analysis insists that Lucy sleepwalking is proof of her being the Slutty Woman archetype that needs to be punished. This suggested symbolism is hilarious when put next to the text saying she inherited it from her father, but I’d like to suggest a different angle from the lens of disease suggested earlier:

Lucy’s sleepwalking is a condition that predates Dracula but makes her an easy target for him to prey on. Through the lens of disease symbolism, she now is someone with chronic illness or disability who is especially vulnerable to infectious disease. This becomes a cross-section of Stoker’s trauma regarding disease: his own mystery illness and his mother fleeing a plague.

To wind down my rambles with a bit of a soapbox, I feel this adds a very poignant layer to the struggle to keep Lucy alive. The COVID pandemic showed a horrifying level of casual ableism vs disabled and immunodeficient individuals, shrugging off their vulnerability and even their deaths with “well COVID only kills them.” There’s something deeply gratifying at seeing the way everyone around Lucy fights to the bitter end to protect her and refuses to just give her up to Dracula, whether it’s Mina physically chasing him away or the suitor squad pouring their blood into her veins or Van Helsing desperately searching for cures. The vulnerable deserve no less than this. They’re not acceptable casualties.

#dracula daily #ableism cw #dracula daily spoilers #lucy westenra

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hyomaslut · 9 months

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──★ ˙🌟 ̟ !! gold star redemption program. 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ's ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇʀ

✿ ─ synopsis: you are the new manager for team blue lock and you have a great idea to make the players get along better. after all, positive reinforcement worked really well on dogs, why not men? ✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma + kunigami rensuke referenced ✿ ─ cw: smut, fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, aged-up!characters(18+), pet names, kissing, penetrative sex, oral receiving/giving, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, rough sex, deepthroating/face-fucking, non-exclusive relationships, lots of jealousy, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, shidou is an asshole, rin threatens murder, somewhat proofread ✿ ─ notes: okay so every is going to ignore the logistics and mental gymnastics done to put all these guys on the same team and have any of this go on, right? cool. this work was requested by @anastasiablossomlove pls enjoy!

managing team blue lock was no task for a person of average conviction. anyone with less of a spine would be easily trampled and consumed by the members, all with big personalities and even bigger egos. you took to the role with exceptional organizational skills and a positive attitude that didn’t falter, even under the cold glares of the less compliant men of the team (cough cough itoshi rin cough cough barou shouei). before the end of your first week you had drafted up detailed and individualized meal plans, unique to each of them. by the second you had worked with the coach to create special training regimes that works towards their fitness goals while providing challenge and variety. right under their noses you dug your pretty fingers into every part of team blue lock, finding every issue and soothing every conflict, turning a group of somewhat wild animals into a well functioning machine with you at its core.

and not a detail slipped your eye. you could always tell when kunigami had pushed himself too hard in the gym by the stiffness in his shoulders. honestly you doubt you would’ve been able to convince him to let you help him if he wasn’t just as sore as you predicted. but the minute your palms were pressing into his back he was groaning in relief, “you’re an angel” grumbled under his breath. he’s a bit less embarrassed the next time around, blushing while asking you to fix him like you did last time.

you quickly took responsibility for doing chigiri’s hair before every practice and game. after seeing it fall out of its style and flap wildly in his face whenever he reached top speed on the field, you decided he needed something a little more reliable to keep it out the way so his eyes could stay on the ball. though when his hair was this soft, who could blame you for taking a bit longer than necessary, brushing through the knots and gently scratching at his scalp. plus, he didn’t seem to mind all that much, always red faced and all smiles, leaning into your touch. the thank you kiss he plants on your cheek lingers long enough to leave a matching blush on your face as a token of his appreciation.

being the backbone of their system earned you respect, acknowledgement, even affection from the overly friendly members of the team (cough cough bachira meguru cough cough shidou ryusei). no one could deny the benefits of having you around, always offering all kinds of helpful advice and showed not a shred of judgment when listening to their problems. and you weren’t exactly ignorant to the fact that your constant support was causing some of your new friends to become especially attached to you. maybe to someone else it would be a bigger concern, but in your eyes, this was only another opportunity to do more for your team.

that’s why you implemented the gold star redemption program to help motivate them. it was quite simple to follow, you had a chart with all of their names along with cute, slightly wonky doodles of them, and a list of ways to earn gold stars. from goals and assists to being on good behavior, whatever way they earn their stars, team members can then cash them in for certain prizes from you. the list had looked something like this…

2 ☆ = snack or drink of your choice 4 ☆ = a home cooked meal 5 ☆ = a kiss <3 7 ☆ = a massage <33 10 ☆ = private training session <333

the objective was to give incentives towards cooperation. not to mention, it’s always good to strengthen bonds with your team members. it seems, however, that you underestimated how much of your time this new system would take up. or maybe you just overestimated how easy it would be to keep up with the greedy desires of so many egoists at once.

ever since your arrival, anyone with eyes could see that isagi yoichi carried a torch for you. you let him talk your ear off for hours about tactics and players, never tired of his company or too busy for his rambles. it gets his heart thumping obnoxiously loud in his chest. so yoichi makes it his objective to dote on you as much as possible to try to make up for all the time you spend fussing over everybody else. always staying after practice to help you or walking you home. so when you start handing out stars for that kind of stuff, isagi is already making a steady income. he considers himself a gentleman, so at first he spends his stars on meals. and he’s more than happy to eat your cooking, stirring up all kinds of wifey fantasies in his head and enjoying his lunches with you. but at night, when he’s lying in bed, the big ticket item at the bottom of the prize board haunts him. and when he can’t take it anymore, he slips into your tiny little office that you share with the coach, a self-satisfied smile on his face when he lets you know that he just finished the stat sheets you asked him to fill out, earning him his tenth gold star. enough for one private training session.

in all the times you thought about sex with isagi, you’re not sure you ever pictured it to be like this. bent over your own desk, tennis skirt bunched up around your waist, your star player too eager to sink into your pussy to even push down your underwear. they stayed tugged to the side, thoroughly soaked from the way his hips meet yours in sloppy desperate thrusts. “i knew i needed to fuck you when i saw this skirt,” he confesses, eyes fixed to the point where you connect, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you, “you’ve been tempting me all day, so be a good girl and take my cock, okay?” before you can respond he hooks a finger into the elastic of your panties to let it snap back against your skin, drawing a small yelp from you. he changs the angle to fuck you harder, deeper. you wonder if this could be the same sweet yoichi that carries your things and bashfully tells you your outfit looks good.

apparently that yoichi doesn’t exist once he’s balls deep inside you, all that’s left is the side of him you’ve only caught glimpses of when he’s dominating his opponents on the field. and if you thought that it was a chance encounter, you’re sorely mistaken as week after week isagi makes sure he earns his ten stars and you get to know just how mean he can be. his grip is always tight around your hair, whether it’s pulling and steering you into the position he wants or guiding your head down to take more of his dick. god forbid he asks you nicely for something like he always does when you’re not ‘training’. one time you even had the gall to suggest the idea to him and lived to regret it as now if you want anything from him, isagi is only accepting the most convincing of your begs. “c'mon princess, mind your manners, if you wanna cum then you’re gonna have to ask really nicely.” and no teary eyed puppy dog look will get you what you want, even when he makes getting your words out so difficult. truthfully, he never intends to be so hard on you, but having you crying and begging for his cock is the only way to soothe the devil on his shoulder that tries to tell him to take you for himself. in the aftermath, you start to recognize your yoichi again, sheepish in his apologies for how rough he was with you, kissing away the tears that run down your face. he’s lucky you’re too fucked out to charge him for them.

there’s not a world where you offer bachira meguru sexual favors in exchange for playing soccer and he says no. he was already gonna do that anyway, and now not only does he get to make even more of a game out of it, but his reward for winning is the cute little manager he’s had his eyes on for far too long? consider him sold. bachira knows it would be most fun for him to save up and have sex with you as soon as possible, but all of a sudden he has five and he’s itching for a kiss. one he decides to give you right before practice starts… in front of the whole team. but can you blame him? he’s already been waiting forever to feel those pretty glossed lips on his, you couldn’t really expect him to make it through the next few hours when he’s so close to getting what he wants. and you could maybe understand that, but was it really necessary to go for a full open-mouthed wet almost make out that left you panting when everyone’s eyes were already on you? you suspect not, but bachira doubles down, telling you it was of upmost importance that he got it in, else he wouldn’t be able to focus. he neglects to tell you that he overheard reo in the locker room talking about what he was gonna do now that he had five stars. shidou already made it very clear that he would be first to ten, so bachira had to be crafty in order to secure at least one first from you.

meguru was certainly one of the more needy players, right under nagi that required some form of encouragement every step of the way to get anything done. bachira usually does what you tell him to, but not without whining about deserving a prize for being good. quite frankly, you dread having to ask anything of him, because he is determined to be fully compensated for even the smallest of requests. even a task as easy as grabbing something on a high shelf was met with a cheeky smirk and a request for a kiss. and don’t think he’ll budge either, holding the item hostage if he thinks he can squeeze two out of you. it didn’t make it any easier that bachira didn’t possess a shy bone in his whole body, openly showering you in affection when the others were around, holding your hand and nuzzling his face into your collar. it was enough to make even a professional like you blush. he acted as if he was oblivious to the jealous stares of his friends, but the smug cat-like smirk he sends them and the way he only holds you tighter when you try to shyly brush him off gives him away. it may come as a surprise considering his reputation for being a bit delusional, but bachira tries to root himself in reality for once. he frequently reminds himself of the nature of your relationship and tries his best not let his imagination run wild with anything that would be beyond the boundaries you’ve clearly set. things like picturing himself taking you on dates, coming home to you at night, introducing you to his mom. they were all too dangerous to let his mind settle on them for too long.

and what better distraction than burying his face between your thighs. it’s hard to think of much when he hasn’t bothered to stop lapping at your cunt long enough to take a breath in a couple minutes. suffocating was the least of his concerns when the clench around his fingers lets him know your orgasm is just around the corner. meguru swears that your pathetic little whimpers and the slick dripping down his chin are like a straight hit of dopamine to his brain and he’s at real risk of addiction at this point. lidded amber eyes travel up to watch your expression twist into one of pleasure as you gasp out his name. now that catches his interest. when your vision clears and your brain is functioning again after that intense high, you search for his comfort as if you had done any of the hard work. but all you’re met with is that signature wild look that he gets when he brushing past the enemy team’s defense straight towards his goal. it’s your only warning that he’s far from tired and even farther from sated. “if i can keep going, so can you baby. i know you have more for me. jus’ need t’see you make that face one more time.” you have no room to protest, his tongue already finding your clit and working towards bringing you to the edge once again. by your fourth time cumming, you’re sobbing for a break and debating whether you should charge him four times over or give him a star for each one.

someone who was on board with your system from the second that you explained how it worked, was shidou ryusei. what better way to celebrate another one of his blood pumping, heart stopping performances than racing to the locker room to blow a load in his favorite girl while his teammates debrief with the coach? to him it was simple, you fuck him, you feed him, you take care of him, you spend time with him. shidou is, by all of his definitions, dating you. while some might be turned off by the idea of dating someone who isn’t offering exclusivity, he didn’t see it as much of an obstacle. not when he spent star stickers like a gambler on a slot machine, having you multiple times a week if the economy allowed it. and if he’s short a few, no worries, ryusei is quite the negotiator. it starts one week when he’s only missing a star or two, promising he’ll pay back the difference, you know he’s a good customer. it’s probably not a good idea to give in to him though, as the next time he wants a private training session, he’ll insist they’re only nine stars for him. he has made all kinds of fake coupons from 50% Off! to Buy One Get One Free! to even a homemade punch card in his own terrible handwriting. shidou was the first one to ever get a star taken away when he tried to give you an arby’s gift card in exchange for a blowjob. he didn’t try that tactic again.

the worst is when he tries to haggle in the middle of sex. your legs are thrown over his shoulders and his tip is kissing your cervix when he chooses to whine about not being able to kiss you because he has no stars left. he worked too hard to get good star credit, he can’t go into star debt!! “ and with his lips just hovering over yours, his hot breath fanning across your face, how could you say no? in a moment of weakness, you have unfortunately given an inch to shidou, infamous mile taker, and now it’s hard to get him to pay for any of his kisses, especially while he’s fucking you. you thank god that at the very least no one knows he’s been getting them for free… if only shidou would allow your life to be that easy. even worse than giving him an inch, you expected shidou to keep a secret. and you thought his big mouth was something you liked about him. until he’s using it to brag to everyone that he’s your favorite, practically your boyfriend, all because you let him get away with a smooch here and there. let’s just say you had to give out a lot of free kisses to smooth over the problem his bragging habits created.

honestly ryusei was starting to cause a lot of confusion outside of the team with his antics. what with his always hanging off your arm, giving you as much affection as you’d tolerate, calling you sweet nicknames. the people in your life were actually starting to believe you two were dating. not that shidou does anything to discourage such rumors, only grinning and agreeing every time someone mistakes you as a couple. hell, he was starting to get you confused, saying things during your training sessions that certainly didn’t fit the transactional nature of the act. “holy shit you’re so tight- love this pussy, l-love you so much. say my name. c’mon baby, say you love me and i’ll make you feel so fucking good.” and only because ryusei always makes good on his promises do you allow yourself another moment of weakness.

itoshi rin didn’t have much interest or faith in you upon first introduction. he sized you up as some nobody doing this whole manager thing as a fun extracurricular, so as long as you stayed out of his way he didn’t care what you did. with his luck, he shouldn’t be surprised that you were immediately in his way, extremely often, rambling to him about ideas and strategies that he had no intention on listening to. although even he could admit, he understood why the others were so easily charmed by you. he was wrong about how seriously you took your job. not that it changed anything. at least that’s what rin tells himself, but in reality your relentless efforts and endless dedication to supporting all of them was something that spoke to him, made him a bit soft for you. it didn’t help that you were his type in every sense of the word, your attractiveness doing nothing but make feigning indifference a lot harder for rin. your seemingly endless patience didn’t help either. you always responded in kind to all of rin’s harsh words and cold stares, never let his sour attitude deter your subtle acts of service like getting grass stains out of his uniform and making sure he stays unbothered during his yoga. against his will, he was slowly warming up to you, but you were still caught off guard when rin started cashing in his stars, even if it was just a meal. he had lots of them sitting idle on the chart waiting to be used, so you supposed it was only natural for him to get some free food out of it. but you were even more taken aback when a couple days later he requested a massage from you with insistence that he only asks because he’s been extremely tense as of late. which wasn’t entirely untrue. rin had been very tense. just not from anything soccer related like he’d like you to believe. he was tense from the stress of his budding feelings for you combined with the dread of knowing he probably will never have you all to himself. at least not with this stupid reward system in place.

he despises it. he absolutely hates going about his day knowing there are other guys, his shithead teammates, that are getting your time, attention, and affection for the price of a couple of stupid fucking stickers. he misses the days when shidou’s incessant bragging about how many times he was able to make you cum or bachira’s unnecessary details of what your pussy tastes like didn’t bother him. now his blood boils to hear them talk about you like that. that kind of anger makes it clear to him that being your friend was simply not an option anymore. which is how he settled on getting a massage from you. he would satisfy this overwhelming craving he has for you and go back to normal and be able to focus solely on becoming best in the world again without thoughts of you plaguing his mind. that was his hope going into it, but feeling your warm touch on his bare back, melting away years of untreated knots and neglected aches in his body, he could almost blush at the intimacy he feels. especially when that foreign kindness he loves so much is on display as you reassure him that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about and that you’re proud he finally put his pride aside long enough to let you help him. you’ve got him, hook, line, and sinker now. no use in struggling so hard, he supposes, as some part of him knows he’s doomed to fall sooner or later. perhaps it’s time to surrender. he fought a good fight, but his greed for you was candidly too tough of an opponent.

and to rin, surrender looked like asking you when’s the soonest he could book a private training session. you don’t think you could look any more shocked. rin had a quick turn around from someone you doubted even liked you, to someone reserving as much of your time as his stars could buy. the more often he was with you, the less time you spent giving those lukewarm brats the treatment he wants reserved for him. and he wishes he gave in a lot sooner when he feels the wet heat of your mouth around his cock for the first time. how fast he would’ve folded if he knew how pretty you would look on your knees for him. rin tried to be gentle and let you set the pace, but between hissing out curses and barely biting back moans, that same greed to get more from you has his hand twisting itself in your hair and pushing down on the back of your head. he couldn’t help it. and it was so worth it to watch you choke and sputter around his length but never pull away. he knew you weren’t a quitter. “shit, feels good… don’t stop,” he all but gasps, hips instinctively jumping to reach further down your throat, grip tightening when you try to come up for air. after a long moment of breathing through your nose you relax enough to let him ease himself the rest of the way in. rin sighs in relief when your nose finally presses against his pelvis. the way you look up at him starry-eyed and full of adoration made his chest feel heavy with desire to be the only one you ever look at. it drives him crazy that any guy on the team can see you like this, and that heartache has rin fucking your face to forget it. “fuckkk. don’t look away, eyes on me, g’nna cum in that pretty mouth.”

you couldn’t deny that your new attempt at encouraging the team had its kinks. while overall the amount of arguments that broke out between players lessened to keep on good star-earning behavior, you could tell that it came with its own set of tension creating problems. you also couldn’t deny that being pulled in every direction by men vying for your attention was both very time consuming and extremely gratifying, but you think you manage it well. save for when they were already pumped up with adrenaline from a game, that is when real issues arise. especially when a player from the enemy team thinks it’s a good idea to try and hit on the cute little lady holding the clipboard. fatal mistake.

it starts with your favorite pot stirrer, bachira, calling out from his position, making everyone else on the team aware of the situation. “no shot dude, she don’t want you! focus on losing!” you’re confident you can diffuse whatever is about to go down before you notice rin leaving the ball alone in centerfield to beeline straight towards you. threats are flying from his lips on approach, quick to get in the guy’s face, planting his hands on his shoulders to shove him back. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing? i’ll kill you if you don’t get the fuck away from her.” you think maybe you have a shot of getting rin under control if you just- your eyes widen in horror as a flash moves in from your peripheral. there are no words, just shidou drop kicking this poor stranger at top speed. you cringe as you watch shidou knocks this guy off his feet, cleats first, taking rin down with him. what a way to earn a red card.

this was a fun project and request tysm!!! i just went about it in the interpretation i found most interesting, i really hope it was to your liking!!!

#divider credit to @cafekitsune #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock #bllk #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi smut #isagi yoichi smut #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei smut #shidou smut #chigiri x reader #kunigami x reader #miwa sins

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c-rowlesdraws · 3 months

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(Note: I’m writing this in good faith and not trying to come across confrontational)

Have u forgotten u can vote 3rd party? I know there will likely not be enough people voting independant party for a non red or blue president to be elected THIS voting cycle. But. If enough people vote independent maybe america will wake up and realize there are more than 2 shitty options. (It takes time to change, and change for the better)

Look the problem with the blue no matter who mindset is that these people know you are going to vote for them no matter what. Not because you necessarily like them but because at least they aren’t the other guy. Which gives dems absolutely no incentive to not be a piece of shit. Like do you get it? They will be awful and endorse genocides and all other terror because they know you will let them get away with it. Maybe biden isn’t as bad as a republican would have been but he is still pretty fucking bad. Personally, morally, I cannot in any way justify voting for him again.

voting for someone as damage control in an election does not mean you can't heckle the shit out of them once they are in office. You elect the officials you think you and groups you belong to have the better chance of pressuring into better policies, and who will do the least amount of damage in the meantime.

Democrats are relentless towards their elected officials-- at least the ones I know who are actually politically active are. They call, they protest, they campaign. Plus, as you're demonstrating, people on the left do not blindly vote (that's the other guys). It's totally unrealistic to say that elected Democratic officials just think they have an easy ride.

people can and should vote for whoever they want to in local elections, primaries, etc. But in the big one, the president one, the one in the fall, voting third party is like drawing up plans for a nice new extension on a house that is actively being set on fire. Voting for president is damage control. Voting is your hard-fucking-won civil right. Voting in smaller elections can also be damage control; when there is no-one to feel "good" about voting for, you vote for the less-worse one, because maybe that one is more receptive to the idea of climate change being real than the other one, and you can work with that.

Sometimes you get to vote for the option you align with the most. But sometimes voting is about picking the option with the cracks that you can dig your fingers into and pull open. Or at least the one who won't start taking a sledgehammer to civil rights and environmental protections (and, and) with all his buddies while you work to build support behind a candidate you can feel good about voting for in four years.

Biden has shown he can change his policies over time, with pressure. Democrats can be swayed in ways Republicans cannot. One major party can be pushed more left. The other one will drag us into a darkness that I don't even want to think about. The presidency is about so much more than just the individual sitting in the Oval Office.

Voting is strategic. It is strategic. It is not negative moral karma to vote strategically. It is one action amidst all the other actions you can take to fight for the future you want.

#please read my original post again if you're still unclear on my political stance #us politics #ask #catie talks #i don't want to publish more of these asks but I feel compelled to reply to at least some #this website was a fucking waking nightmare in 2016 and I'd feel sick scrolling through tag after tag on a political post #of people saying that hillary was a warhawk and a monster and just as bad as trump and they couldn't #morally justify voting for her #and seeing that attitude showing up again makes me want to throw plates

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astrosouldivinity · 8 months

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7H Open Enemies: 👿

The placements/house ruler in your 7H can show you who your open enemies are. Friends, family, associates, etc. You’ll be able to perceive these enemies way easier than your hidden enemies because they will attack you out in the open. So just knowing what to look out for you will be able to protect yourself. 💚

7H Moon/Cancer: Your enemies will be highly observant and manipulative. They will observe you just to see what your weaknesses are and then strike! They may also appear as someone that wants to help you and maybe even someone who wants to date you/befriend you but they will not have good intentions for you whatsoever so beware.

7H Sun/Leo: Your enemies will be highly competitive and destructive. They will try to dim your light and enjoy putting you down. Your enemies are passionate about making you feel worthless and insecure. They may also have a desire to outshine you and just want to appear better than you overall. Your enemies are fairly obvious though. They give off obsessive fan energy tbh.

7H Mercury/Gemini/Virgo: Your enemies may display trickster-like tendencies. They could be master con artists tbh. Prone to gossip, & slander, they will try to hurt you socially. But essentially, your enemies will attack your intellect and downplay your intelligence overall.

7H Mars/Aries/Scorpio: Your enemies actually want to fight you! They may even try to start petty one-sided competitions with you and engage in reckless, impulsive, and overly aggressive behavior. It’s literal war with your enemies so they will be pretty easy to spot out in the open.

7H Saturn/Cap/Aqua: Your enemies may have clout-chasing tendencies. They may even try to destroy your reputation through blackmail, and gossip. They can be insecure, opportunistic, cruel, and calculating. Your enemies may even believe that they are better than you and have no issue making you feel less than them. They may also try attacking your career as well so keep an eye out for sabotaging behavior.

7H Venus/Taurus/Libra: Your enemies are insecure af. They may even compare themselves to you physically but also resource-wise. Your enemies are envious and superficial. Beware of people who appear super kind and almost like too good to be true energy because it probably is tbh. Your enemies may also be more likely to be old friends or lovers so be careful who you reconcile with and make sure their intentions are pure.

7H Jupiter/Sag/Pisces: Your enemies are ruthless bullies. They will try to put down your intelligence and make you doubt the knowledge you possess. Your enemies may also display traits of egocentrism. The good news is your enemies will be easy to perceive. They will attack you head-on and will humiliate you publicly.

7H Uranus/Aqua: Your enemies may be unpredictable, condescending, and callous towards you. They will attack your intellect and feel threatened by your uniqueness, intelligence, individuality, and self-love. They may even engage in childish debates with you and try to make you feel inferior. Your enemies will outcast you too if you go against their beliefs/hierarchy.

7H Pluto/Scorpio: Your enemies are harder to spot because they are skilled at hiding themselves in plain sight. Their traits will consist of secretiveness, manipulativeness, and viciousness. Mind games are prominent here too. Not only will they try to destroy you mentally, they will try to harm you emotionally as well.

7H Neptune/Pisces: Your enemies will have victim complexes and will try to use guilt and shame to manipulate you. Similarly to 7H Scorpio/Pluto, your enemies are also hidden but to a certain extent. But regardless of them being sneaky, you will be able to perceive their intentions from them repeatedly hurting you mentally and emotionally.

#astrology #spirituality #zodiac signs #astroblr #shadow work #astrology observations #astrology posts #astro placements #zodiac placements #zodiac #astrology open enemies #7th house #7h placements #7h synastry #natal chart #birth chart #astro notes #astro

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hxnbi · 1 month

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「 FALLING FOR YOU 」

synopsis: who fell first and who fell harder

characters: itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuta

ITADORI YUJI ➽ he fell first, and he fell harder

Let's be honest, this poor boy has gone through so much. And to have someone who reciprocates his feelings? He felt like he was on cloud nine when he learned that you thought the same thing; "I love you too, Yuji." So much so that he made you repeat it again and again until he was forcefully pulled away by Megumi and Nobara, as you were too overwhelmed by Yuji's... several confessions?—practically busy exploding in joy yourself to configure another thought.

Nothing in the entire world could be better than being with you for the rest of his life, and he made sure that you knew that there were no doubts.

Whatever or whenever it was, Yuji was at your beck and call. You may as well have compared him to a golden retriever-like boyfriend, because that was exactly what it was. He was so incredibly touched that you reciprocated his feelings, so much so that he wanted you to know for sure that he was devoted to you and only you. And in that regard, he indeed succeeded.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ➽ you fell first, and you fell harder

No one, not Gojo, Yuji, Nobara, or even yourself—would've ever expected you to fall in love with such an aloof person, that person being the stone that is Fushiguro Megumi. Something that intrigued you from the moment you met him. It was shocking, and honestly, even refreshing, to see Megumi smiling. His stoic demeanour in saying practically anything, regardless of its seriousness, and his piercing, borderline terrifying gaze hid a plethora of emotions beneath that impassive tone of his, and try as you might, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

But as much as Megumi loved you, he also kept his distance from you. And that pained you to think that perhaps Megumi really didn't care about you as much as you thought—that is, until you realized the reason for why. He just didn't want you to be in danger. He tried to keep you far away from him, but for that reason alone, you found yourself falling harder and harder for the boy who had captured your heart. All that he did, the danger that he put himself under, was for you. And before you even knew it, you found yourself hopelessly in love with the person who had now become the centre of your world.

GOJO SATORU ➽ you fell first, and he fell harder

At first, it was just a tiny crush. Perhaps even a little more. Because, let's be real, who wouldn't be at least somewhat attracted to the strongest sorcerer? At first, that's what you thought. There was no way that someone as powerful as Gojo Satoru would pay attention to an average sorcerer like yourself, right? Wrong.

As Utahime and Megumi would say with utter conviction, Gojo can be an arrogant bastard at times. He's aloof, confident, and charismatic, but he's also just an individual—just an everyday human being. You were the one who truly understood him. You loved him for who he was—not for superficial reasons the rest of his world saw, but because he was a guy whose heart was genuine.

And he found himself falling for you, truly. He found himself loving and appreciating every part of you. To have someone so genuine, so open, unlike him, forced to view himself as merely "the strongest." He felt as though he could be weak around you. He fell hard for you and only you, and that would never change. Anything less would be a betrayal of your love.

OKKOTSU YUTA ➽ he fell first, and you both fell harder

I'd like to think that Yuta, for sure, has thoughts that he doesn't deserve to have you. So he stares from a distance. Everything that he did, the life that he lived, was cursed to a degree that nobody saw when he dared to acknowledge. He thought that you didn't deserve that. But even as he muttered those words to you that day, you looked at him—not with fear, not with disgust, not even with pity, but with sympathy and love.

His vulnerability, even when he was at his lowest, was undeniable. But that made you even more determined to help him—to be that person that Yuta could, for once in his life, lean on without reservation. His timid yet endearing personality drew you in, despite the darkness that surrounded him. But, unbeknownst to you, he had already fallen for you.

Yuta was enthralled, captivated—enchanted even—by all the kindness you showed him from the very moment he laid eyes on you. The way you would act like he was just an average person, regardless of the circumstances. He loved you for who you were, and you were the same.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

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lavishlyleo · 5 months

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Astrology Observations 5

One thing I've noticed with Gemini Moons is that while they do love to talk to people and share their thoughts, if they aren't interested in the conversation's topic or if you stay on one topic for too long, they tend to zone out. If they aren't very invested in the convo at hand it will be VERY noticeable (e.g. blank stares, they suddenly go very quiet, dry repetitive responses, checking their phone frequently).

The same can be said for individuals with a lot of Air in their charts in general, especially Gemini and Libra. It can be hard to keep these individuals attention for prolonged periods of time. They like to cut to the interesting part so keep what you have to say very brief and to the point.

Not something Leo Moons are known for, but that I've noticed is that they can be really good at analyzing peoples behavior. Like, they'll see how someone acts and can make connections to their own behavior to understand some elses emotions and feelings. It's how many Leo Moons relate to people, bonus points if their Moon is in a water house!

In your Natal chart, if your ruling planet 's transit is in opposition or square with your natal ruling planet's sign, it can indicate a period of bad luck and hardship. It may feel like the world is against you at the moment, especially if said aspect is in a less than 5° orb. Not a great transit aspect to have.

For example, My ruling planet is Jupiter (Sag Rising) and it's in Scorpio at 9°. IRONICALLY ENOUGH, in my Solar Return chart for this year, Jupiter is in Taurus at 9°. So I'm expecting a lot to happen this year. Later on this year I'll make an update on this aspect.

If you have Scorpio or Pisces in your SR top 3 this year, don't take this lightly!! Like I said in my last post with manifestations, this will be a year that your manifestation power is at an all time high! You may literally speak things into existence, for better or for worse.

On the topic of Scorpio/Pisces SR top three, my advice for this (and I'm speaking from experience) is try to think about things you want to happen, not things you don't want or like. For example, if you think about how much you don't like a certain person, later on down the line you may find yourself suddenly coming back in contact with that person a lot more, when either you wanted to or not.

People with Cancer personal placements, I'd advise you to frequently check the Moon's transit and positions! Whenever it's the full or new moon, keep tabs on what happens those days and how you feel. Let me know in the comments anything interesting that's happened to yall during those times!

I've said this once and I'll say it again, Scorpio Mars are some of the most PERSISTENT people I've ever seen. When it comes to their desires, NOTHING stands in their way. However this can be detrimental if it's bad habits like drinking, smoking, stealing, ect. One way or another they will get what they want, even if it costs them everything. These people can truly be the victim of their own desires. Honorary mention- Taurus and Leo Mars.

Listen, if you ever need someone to promote your music, call an Aquarius Venus/Dominant person. I swear to god these people listen to the most obscure, outta pocket things I've ever heard.

Taurus 6th/5th housers tend to be those people at work that live by the slow and steady motto. They don't like to rush and do a sloppy job on whatever their working on.

On the other hand, Aries 6th/5th housers may be very fast workers, and it usually works well for them, works well under pressure. not the most thorough people but for the most part they get the job done.

People with a lot of Gemini and Leo placements in their chart tend to give off Aries energy.

Capricorn and Scorpio relationships are literally ride or die. I know a couple with many of these placements and they are so possessive of each other. Even after heated arguments and many hardships, they always come back together and work out their issues, it's really sweet!

When in an awkward situation, Libra Risings tend to try and break the tension first. Sometimes they can make the situation more awkward doing this but they're always the ones to bring the vibes back to the way they were, so I appreciate it. Gemini Risings may also do this but can be slightly more unhinged in their methods. I love both regardless for it😭💕.

The reason puberty for all of us hits hard is because it's around this time that Saturn is usually in the sign opposite from our Saturn sign. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it, itcchanges a lot of what we focus on and introduces us to new struggles. Although with Saturn retrograde, the age of which these changes can affect us can range from 13 all the way up to 25. Saturn is trying to toughen us up before we become adults.

What your Rising Sign's season is may be the season/months you prefer. For example, I'm a Sagittarius Rising and I tend to like late fall/early winter.

Your Moon sign can show how you process not just your emotions, but how you handle other peoples emotions, and how you relate to them. For example, a Leo Moon may relate to others by thinking of themselves in someone elses shoes, and how they would handle situations. While a Gemini Moon may relate other peoples emotions with stories from others that they've heard, and use what they've observed from other people to help others.

Venus PC Moon can also show this, I'd look at both sign's relationship to see the full picture of how one truly processes theirs and others emotions.

Moon/Pluto Aspects in someone's chart can show a relationship where however the mother treats the native, is how the native will end up treating her as they get older. For example, if the mother was negligent to the native in their younger years, then as they get older they will have a detached and impersonal attitude towards her. Basically the natives mirror how they were nurtured in youth.

"She say do you love me, I tell her only partly. I only love my bed and my mama I'm sorry." -Drake, a Cancer Moon.

People who say Gemini/Libra placements are indecisive have CLEARLY never met someone with many personal fire placements, especially if it's their top 3. Fire sign energy is naturally high and can be all over the place sometimes, this can include their thoughts and decision making as well, mostly concerning the direction of their passions and work. They may have a million ideas of what they're about to do but have trouble slowing down and planning it all out into managable chunks at a time. Will fight for what they want but may have trouble picking their battles wisely.

HEY HEY, new post! I actually had this one in the drafts for awhile! I just got around to posting it now! I haven't been on at all lately because I'm having trouble finding what else to post about. Sooo I'm thinking of doing a little zodiac game soon since I want to practice my art more :] .

More Nitro Nexus art!! I'm not sure when I'll be officially starting my Anthro's Anthem series with him but if I'm being honest I probably won't be releasing the first official chapter until like 2025-2026. I have a lot planned for it but I don't know when I'll get around to it. Only time will tell!

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danistartt · 1 year

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Gentleman- Jamie Tartt

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, richmond team warnings: language. i think i read this one too many times. about: request! secret dating because reader works for Richmond (as like pr or physio or something) but when they win a match one day Jamie is so overcome with joy he just has to kiss her

“Don’t you think someone is bound to get worried you’re coming in here every day?” you wonder, pinching away individual blades of grass stuck among the fuzzy dandelions of Jamie’s socks.

“Nah,” he says, watching your careful attention from his place on the pillow. He’s feeling bad about putting his muddy shoes over your clean lap, but you haven’t complained once, only appreciating the easy access to touch him. “They don’t know I come up here.”

You look perplexed. “Where do they think you go?”

Jamie shrugs. “The loo?”

“The one not in the locker room? Six times a day for ten minutes?”

“I keep myself hydrated,” he tells you, lifting up his water bottle to wag it at you. “Y’know, to keep up appearances.”

You chuckle, pushing the web of your thumb around his ankle and trying to touch your pointer. Your phone blinks up at you, the time precarious. Your hand slackens. “You need to get back soon.”

Jamie gets that sticky feeling he does whenever he has to leave something, gross and pleading at the pit of his stomach, his every cell calling out for him to use his time better. He wants to touch you like you’re touching him. He shifts onto his elbows and stares at you. “I can be a little late.”

You frown at the idea, your hands still and warm on his calves. “No, Jamie.”

“Yes, Jamie,” he murmurs, his arms making quick succession in tugging you to him. He’s strong, he’s always been strong, but you don’t tend to notice until he’s pulling you out from beneath his legs and hugging you in a single movement.

You don’t want to encourage him but you want even less to not make your delight shown at being pressed against his chest.

The minute changes. Your care for it begins to dwindle.

“Jamie!” you squeal, not moving.

He says your name in the same tone, as condescending as he used to be but sweetened by the kiss he presses against your hair. “C’mon, love,” he encourages, a horrid influence working.

“No,” you insist weakly. “Ted’s waiting for you. The team’s waiting for you.”

“But I’ve been waitin’ for this all day,” he complains pointedly. “Maybe I should trip o’er the ball or somethin’. Make a nice excuse to spend hours here with ya.”

“Jamie Tartt? Not believable.”

He makes a pleased noise, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You’re right.”

Another minute. Ted’s brown eyes bore into your subconscious.

Painfully, you peel yourself off of Jamie, slotting his thighs between your own. You watch his pupils dilate from above him.

“No,” you start, gently holding his face in your hands in a plea and causing the opposite effect you’d meant to. “No time. Later.”

He grasps your coat tightly.

“I promise. Just go to practice.” You spy the time and scramble off of him. “Now.”

He groans, catching your wrist when you hurry to collect the loose strands of his hair. He holds up a hand, pinky finger outstretched, and stares in question.

You roll your eyes but hook your own through his, a grin making its way to his face. “Y’know these’re binding, right?” he asks pragmatically.

You’d taught him that. The prick. “Yes,” you say exasperatedly, trying to pull him off the couch.

“‘M goin’,” he mutters, letting you. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

“No you will not,” you gasp. “They’re going to think you have a bladder infection.”

“I’ll make somethin’ up,” he shrugs, looking around. He picks up your keys off your desk and wags them. “Maybe you dropped your keys when you were headin’ in.”

“Jamie,” you warn. “You can’t leave the team so much because, beside the fact that they’ll notice something is up, you actually like being with them and—”

“I like you better. A lot prettier.” He closes his fingers around the keys.

You inch closer slowly, but he’s undeterred and blows you a kiss, leaving your office with only muddy tracks left in his place before you can catch up. “Do not come by in half an hour!”

He listens to you. Kind of.

You see him a few hours later, a cocky glaze on his features, keys clicking against one another. “Hey, doc, I think ya dropped somethin’.”

You snatch them from him. “What a gentleman.”

“Right? Had to fight for it, too. Coach must really like returning keys.”

“How’d you get him to give them up?”

“I jus’ left,” he shrugs.

You gape at him. “What?”

“I told ‘im I found your keys, he said he’d give ‘em to you after practice. I said you might need ‘em now and then I just went inside ‘fore he could call Will over. I should actually be gettin’ back now, our screaming break’s probably over.” He slinks over to you and kisses your forehead, smelling like grass and sweat and lavender detergent.

“What?” you echo.

“I’ll see you later. Can you pick up some food before you get home? Kent don’t really like it when I leave the screamin’. Says it’s most effective on me.”

He smiles at you, waves, and leaves you perplexed.

You put down what he stole from you and notice vibrant pink peeking beneath metal, a green stem’s end through the ring. When you pull it out, you recognize it as one of the flowers that keep growing at the far right edge of the field. You melt into your seat, pouting at the crumpled petals.

“So, what’s the verdict, Doc?” Ted asks when you come out of your room, dipping a finger behind your right glove.

“He’ll be okay. He can play this week’s game as long as he doesn’t put too much pressure on his foot. I told him to ice it periodically for two days and then just make sure it isn’t swelling.”

“No permanent damage, then?”

You laugh. “No permanent damage.”

Sam pushes your door open, leaning on a crutch.

“How you feelin’, champ?” Ted asks.

Sam shrugs. “I’ve been better. At least Doctor Y/n gave me the all clear for this week.” He looks pointedly at you, as if Ted might need confirmation from you.

“Under what conditions?” you pry.

“Rest, ice, compress, and elevate,” he lists off his fingers.

“The most important for you, Mr. Obisanya, being…”

“Not being on it for two days,” he answers, ever the great student.

“I wish all my patients listened as well as you do,” you commend, letting him go with a smile.

Ted watches him go, turning back to you with a cheery expression. “Well, thank you, Doc.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” You toy with your gloves, listening to the team erupt in noise once Sam assumedly gets back.

“And also to bring a smile to all our faces. Not to say that’s a purpose. Just a nice bonus.”

You laugh. “Thank you, Ted. Is there anything else you need from me?”

He shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. Just wanted to ask if you were interested in goin’ out with the team and I tonight.”

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, just the Crown and Anchor. We haven’t officially asked ‘em yet, but one thing that doesn’t change no matter where we are is that athletes always appreciate a good drink with good company.”

“Very true,” you murmur, contemplating. You hadn’t gone out with the boys in a while and you were beginning to miss their antics. You could sit around the house for the evening, or you could spend that same evening a little drunk with your friends. “You know what? Sure. I’d love to.”

“Alrighty then!” Ted cheers, pleasantly genuine in the way no one else is. “I’ll let ‘em know. We’ll see ya later, Doc!”

“You too, Ted!” you call after him, slumping into your chair once you’re alone. Your phone vibrates from the table, lighting up with a picture of Jamie that he’d insisted you set as his profile picture. “Hello?”

“Coach says yer coming with us tonight?”

You stare at your door. “He just left. How could he have possibly already told you that?”

“Team groupchat. He was very insistent about it an' m'honestly not that upset about it anymore.”

You laugh. “I am going. Are you?”

“Course. D’you want me to pick you up?”

“How do we explain that?”

“I’m a gentleman?”

“To this degree? Do you think they’d believe that?”

“I’ll go before. Help ya pick out your clothes, put ‘em on?”

“You’ll see me when I get there.”

“C’mon, love. I want to be the first.”

“You always are!”

“Do you really wanna risk that streak?”

“Yes.” Other voices begin to filter in, still far away but getting closer. “I’ll see you there, Jamie. I love you.”

Jamie pauses, a soft shuffling noise preceding what is clearly Jamie’s palm curving around his phone’s speaker. “I love ya, too,” he whispers. You hang up, leaning into your seat. Your phone zzpts in your hand.

send a picture. Three dots, blinking in and out. please.

Humming, you debate it before: i’ll think about it.

Jamie, of course, is the first to see you.

He looks for you in every creak of the pub door, slyly craning his neck to check for the color of your hair or the burgundy coat you tend to wear on these outings. When he finally catches sight of you, he looks away, satisfied to have been the owner of the first glance.

The others spot you quickly, raising their beers in your direction. Zoereaux puts your drink in your hand, cold bubbles splashing the curve of your thumb.

You thank him, kissing his cheek in greeting as the others crowd you. “Maybe I should be worried you all know my order.”

“Absolutely not,” Ted chimes in from your other side. “Knowledge is love.” He hugs you too. “Glad you could make it, Doc.”

You push yourself onto a seat next to Jan Maas, tipping your glass at him. “You look nice,” he says.

“Thank you,” you respond. “You too.”

“Doc?” Isaac asks.

“You can call me by my name, Isaac.”

He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Nah. Feels weird now.”

“Alright. What’s up?”

“My sister says thank you for the advice. Her leg’s all better now and she told me to invite you over for dinner.”

“She doesn’t have to do that.”

“She insists.”

“You should just accept,” Colin says. “She makes a good Shepherd’s pie and won’t give up.”

Isaac nods, jutting a finger in his direction.

“Of course, then. Can’t wait.”

The conversation continues, and you indulge a glance at Jamie to find him looking back at you, an inquisitive pull to his brows. Your eyebrows jump, trying to ask a question with only your features.

You pull your phone from your pocket and begin typing out a message for him when the topic somehow heads back to you.

“Hey, d’you end up going on that date?” Bumberbatch asks suddenly.

You blink. Jamie turns to him curiously. “What?”

“With the prick. You know. Coiffed hair, All puffed up.”

“Um.” You try very hard to not look at Jamie, who’s surely staring at you with wide, amused eyes. “Yes. Yes I did.”

“How’d it go?” Isaac urges. Your mouth is open with no certain words to comfort.

“Yeah. How’d the date with the prick go?” Jamie pipes up, sliced brow up. He’s awful. Truly, truly awful and he knows it.

You force a smile at him. “Not as bad as I thought.” The team mumbles in satisfaction but Jamie doesn’t give.

“Not as bad, huh?” Jamie repeats, lips thinning in thought. “I dunno.” He does a little shake of his head and licks his lips, meeting your eyes again. “Maybe it went a little better than that?”

You clear your throat, heat rising to your face though you try desperately to keep it down.

Colin raises a brow. “Why would you say that?”

Jamie shrugs, unfairly unphased. “Just askin’.”

The attention moves off of you. You glare at him.

He smiles and, in the wake of a controversial argument between cartoons, winks at you. Your legs go weak.

You’re supposed to sit with the coaches during matches. Keeley had been upset at first and Rebecca sorry, offering a replacement medical professional for a game if you were so inclined to observe a game from the box seats, but you’d refused. Your place, although precarious with flying balls and the grandest source of stress, is kind to you.

You sit behind Ted during matches. The back of his head is surprisingly comforting in the tensest points of a match, and you find you can catch the preliminary movements of his fingers when you’re nearby.

There isn’t much contorting you have to do to sprint into the field if you’re needed, and the seat itself isn’t too bad when you’re not. Also, you have a great view.

You’re close enough to feel the strength with which the players kick the ball, you’re part of the very exclusive audience to the coaches’ hope, and when he gets close enough, Jamie can hear your cheers for him very clearly.

You’re completely sure he can hear you now, shouting at the top of your lungs up front with the coaches, fists tight enough to shake. He speeds up with renewed energy, the ball a blur between fast legs and fake passes. You grasp Roy’s arm with everything in you and let your eyes move to the timer. Less than fifteen seconds to go and a tie glares in blocky red numbers.

Your fingers spark with something hot, curling tighter around Roy’s wrist when the ball is passed to Jamie.

The time goes by too slowly and the ball flies too fast, a defender slamming to the ground with his hands up as Jamie’s kick sends the ball into the net. The clock ticks for the last time. The arena erupts in sound and a combination of red and blue.

You scream, finally letting go of Roy to drag your hands to your face. Isaac and Dani embrace on the field, most of the others running toward Jamie but Jamie is sprinting toward you.

You realize too late what’s going on, too proud of Jamie, too dizzy on adrenaline and excitement to realize what’s about to happen and why it shouldn’t.

He comes up to you beaming, picking you up easily and spinning you around. You respond immediately, palms against his warm cheeks, lips pressing repeatedly against his forehead and then finally his lips. “You did so good,” you praise, hoping he can hear you even through the overwhelming noise. “I’m so proud of you.”

He grins, finally catching your lips and lowering you to the floor. It takes only two seconds for what happened to settle in. You can see it on his face, the exhilaration contorting into recognition. He finally looks away from you and gulps.

The stadium is still loud, but most of the team is looking at you, caught in differing positions of celebration. Ted stares at the both of you, jaw dropped.

“What do we do?” he whispers to you. “Do you think they’ll believe it if we say it was an accident?”

“No,” you respond just as quietly. “No, I don’t think so.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt reader insert #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt secret relationship #jamie tartt x reader fluff #secret relationship #jamie tartt x reader secret relationship #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #jan maas #richmond team x reader

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latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 10 months

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⌗︙・⚠︎ being intimidated by love-struck and obsessed wriothesley ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝

Wriothesley is aware of how intimidating he is.

Sometimes he doesn't even mean to be, and he feels a bit guilty about it. Given his stoic and less-than-inviting expressions, he doesn't blame the average person for flinching in his presence whenever they notice him in the vicinity. Hell, he's accidentally given the staff at some of the restaurants he frequents a bit of a fright from his tone and expression alone. And all because he had been simply inquiring about his meal, as it had taken longer than usual to be brought out.

But his seemingly unapproachable manner doesn't mean that Wriothesly doesn't attract his fair share of admirers and potential suitors. He'd have to be a fool to not see the lovestruck stares that were thrown his way by certain individuals, to not hear the hushed whispers of admirers fawning over his attractive features and squealing whenever he'd coldly glance their way for a split second. He isn't one to let all of that admiration inflate his ego, let alone pay much attention to it, to begin with. If at all, he'd rather avoid people's attention, much preferring to enjoy the quietness of solitude.

But he doesn't care about any one of them. Wriothesly only cares about you—his eyes are reserved for you and you alone.

Love-struck gazes on your form are often what he finds himself doing a good majority of his time, his heart beating so hard—so painfully loud—that he feels dizzy by just looking at you. Wriothesly looks at you as if you're the very reason he takes each breath, the reason why he wakes up and gets up out of bed, the very reason why he lives on. Sometimes if he catches himself passing by a mirror after having seen you, his cheeks and even ears are tinged with blush. To the unsuspecting eye, the dark haired male is more akin to a happy dog having received a treat for being good, his gentle smile and softened eyes making him look nothing like the intimidating man he is supposed to be.

But his lovesick puppy gazes fade away upon seeing you with somebody else, somebody else making you smile and laugh in a way that makes his belly fill with warmth but is quickly snuffed out once he remembers that your sweet laughter is not for him. Jealously rears its rotten, ugly head within Wriothesly's gaze, sick thoughts coiling to fruition within his mind. He cannot stand the thought, let alone the sight, of you interacting so merrily with someone that is not him. If looks could kill, then the bastard would have long since torn to pieces, left as a bloody pile heaped upon the ground long ago. He ends up crushing the fragile tea he'd been holding in his hand to pieces from the raw anger surging through his veins.

But it is not just possessiveness that fuels his obsession with you. It is envy—envy that others could make you laugh and grin so merrily in ways that he cannot. You are uneasy around him, unwilling to spare him one of your smiles that renders him a clumsy fool.

Self-hatred festers inside him every time you flinch in his presence, how when he does manage to ease a measly excuse of a conversation from you, you don't even look him in the eyes—the dust gathering in the dingy corner of a room is far better than looking at him. He supposes that your less-than-stellar first meeting has something to do with your wariness around him, as well as his frightening demeanor and voice—he sometimes forgets that he comes off as scary to you even if that was far from what he was intending.

But Wriothesly can only hold in his suppressed feelings for so long. He's only human, and even he has his limits too after all, no matter how standoffish and collected he appears on the surface. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in your warm embrace, bury his nose in the side of your neck and soak in the tranquility of being so intimately close to you without having to worry about scaring you off once again. Those daydreams that leave him shuddering with need and wanting more can hardly suffice anymore.

Wriothesley is uncertain for how much longer he could possibly hold in his festering feelings.

#lati thirsts #tw yandere #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #yandere wriothesley #written before the release of fontaine so pardon the potential inaccuracies #once we get him then i can rewrite this to make it more accurate

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meownotgood · 2 years

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arrival in tokyo / hayakawa aki

Aki has found you insufferable from the moment you were paired up together. It's bad enough that they're forcing him to work with a damn devil, but you happen to be the most disobedient, irritating devil he's ever met. You seem to have quite the attitude, and brats like you ought to be put in their place.

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 23.2k

tags: 18+, smut, exhibitionism (aki fucks you in an alleyway), light degradation, praise, pain play (aki puts his cigarette out on you), begging & teasing, face-fucking, thigh-fucking, spit kink, fingering, choking, 1 (one) spanking, pet names (good girl, baby, etc.), aki is a bit of an ass, he punches you in the face once

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

I want you two patrolling the south district all afternoon. I know you're not thrilled about this, but please, try to get along. I better not see you two fighting, understand?

Oh, and Hayakawa, take a back seat today. If anything happens, just let them handle it, alright? Don't worry, I know they are more than capable.

Those words seem to echo inside Aki's head, resounding with every heavy step he takes, with every loud clack of his shoes against the pavement.

Just let them handle it? Why? Is he not fit to do his own job? He isn't helpless or weak, far from it. The squad he leads is one of the strongest in the prefecture, dammit. There's no way a brand new recruit, someone so irresponsible, bothersome, mindless — There's no way someone like you is stronger or more capable than him. That's ridiculous.

You should be listening to his instruction, stepping back and allowing him to handle things, like a subordinate ought to do. Honestly, it's best you just quit right now, because if you're not going to do that, there will definitely be some serious problems.

Speak of the devil, your voice stirs Aki from his thoughts: "Sir? Can you slow down? You're walking really fast."

"No. Keep up or I'll leave you behind." Aki snaps back.

The city is rather bustling today. People walk about, cars on the street inch forwards in the afternoon traffic, and the whistles of trains can be heard in the distance. There's a light breeze that wafts through the air, tickling the hair on the back of your neck. The sun beams down, warm heat radiating off of the concrete sidewalk.

You've never been to Tokyo before — or any big city, for that matter — so the atmosphere is totally unfamiliar to you. Various storefronts are busy with shoppers. The walkway is crowded as tons of people commute from place to place. Skyscrapers stretch into the clouds, to the point where you have to crane your neck to look up at them. Wow, and you thought Public Safety's headquarters were huge.

With the way the man in front of you is rushing though, there's no time to enjoy the nice weather, nor take in any of the sights. You have to keep your eyes glued to his back if you want to stay at his heels and avoid getting lost in the crowd. You definitely didn't expect to spend your first devil hunting patrol sightseeing, but still, it would have been nice not to rush around everywhere.

Aki Hayakawa is who you've been assigned to work alongside today, and he seems… interesting. Besides the woman you talked to earlier, he's the only devil hunter you've met so far, and he doesn't exactly give the best first impression. Respectfully, he's impolite. And to put it bluntly, he's kind of a stuck-up ass.

When you first met him, he didn't even say hello to you, nor bother to introduce himself. He just looked down on you with an annoyed expression on his face that only seemed to worsen the longer you met his gaze. When he spoke, he acted as if you weren't even there, talking to the woman in front of you like he couldn't care less that you're standing right next to him. I'll work with them for now, but after today, I'm done. I'm tired of getting paired up with trouble-makers.

Trouble-maker? You? Oh, come on. You're not that much of a nuisance… Probably.

He's awfully up-tight, too. As you were both walking out of the Public Safety building, you were asking him questions: Hey, sir, what's it like working at Public Safety? Do you like it here? What devils do you have contracts with? There's a sword strapped to your back, is that what you use to fight? Hey, which do you prefer, ramen or udon?

And he gives you straight to the point answers: It's fine. Yes. That's classified. Yes… And can you stop asking me stupid questions like that?

Interesting, inscrutable, and cold: those are the best words you can think of to describe him. Cold like a sharp breath of winter. The type of cold that makes trying to get closer to him feel like trekking through the flurry of a heavy snowstorm. He's kept his eyes forward the whole time you've been walking, refusing to spare you any kind of glance. If you try to talk to him, all you receive in return are dry responses.

You know he's your senior, and from what you've heard, he's supposedly an avid devil hater. It's not difficult to assume why. With these dark and brooding types, it always tends to be the same story. Some kind of complicated revenge plot, or something like that.

The woman from before — Makima, was that what she said her name was? — told you that you were a special type of person, one who isn't human, nor devil. Hybrids, they're calling it. Supposedly, it's a rare sort of phenomenon. Hardly anyone has seen it before, and most people don't even believe it's true.

Before Makima found you, you spent your whole life living out in the country. There's not many devils there, so subsequently, not many devil hunters. Besides what you heard in rumors and passing stories from the city, you were oblivious to the topic. Makima had to explain everything to you, and even then, your powers were still a total mystery.

You still don't fully understand how to use them. Makima told you it'll take some practice, so stick with Hayakawa for now until you're able to get the hang of things.

You might find him difficult to get along with, She said, But he's one of the most talented devil hunters I have working with me. I think you two could learn from each other.

You didn't exactly want to become a devil hunter either, but Makima was the one who convinced you. Actually… she says the only way you'll be given any rights is if you're under her protection. Otherwise, it's fair game for you to be hunted as a devil. So you wouldn't exactly say you had a choice.

Well, it's pretty safe to assume that's why Hayakawa doesn't like you. If people are willing to hunt you as a devil, then you're sure they must see you as one, too. Out in the country, nobody seemed to bat an eye, but the city seems to be full of lots of die-hard devil haters. Unfortunately, you doubt you'll be able to change his mind on that; people from the city are always set in their ways.

Maybe he feels annoyed about being forced to work with a devil, especially one his boss implies is stronger than himself. You can bet he's still thinking about it, fussing over what Makima said, and if it's actually true. To be honest, even though you're sure he hates you, he doesn't seem like the type who's always a dick to everyone, just to those who happen to tick him off. There might even be a sweeter side to him in there… somewhere. Who knows.

Either way, he's definitely interesting, and although he can be annoying, he's fun to observe. You want to find out more about him, if you're able. Besides, if you're going to be working with him, for however long it might be, you figure it's a good idea to try to understand him. As best you can, anyways.

You've noticed that everything about him, from the way he looks to the way he talks screams professionalism.

You threw on your uniform haphazardly, but Hayakawa has his suit buttoned perfectly, tie tucked in neatly, collar of his dress shirt straightened exactly. His hair is tied up nice and tidy, showing off a pair of simple earrings. With every word he says, he sounds sure of himself. His voice has a certain deep, smooth vibrato that makes you feel commanded to listen to it. You haven't seen him fight, but you can imagine how precise he'd be with the sword that's strapped to his back.

He's handsome. He'd totally be your type, if he wasn't so pretentious. He's a smoker. You saw him smoking a cigarette outside the Public Safety building when Makima first led you in. The way he carries himself implies he's decently strong, probably more so than he appears. And he's also —

"Listen up," Your attention is pulled back to Aki when you suddenly hear him open his mouth, "If we see a devil, step back and watch me handle it the right way, got it? I don't need you making a mess for the cleaning crew when your powers end up going haywire…. Are you even listening right now?"

"Mmmmm… Nope," You reply, "You're gonna have to repeat all that."

Aki sighs in annoyance, "When I say something, I'm not saying it because I want to hear myself speak. Listen when I'm talking to you. Can you not even do that much?"

"Geez, I heard you the first time, calm down. I was just playing around."

"Then repeat what I said." Aki commands.

"Don't fight the devils, don't make a mess, blah blah cleaning crew."

There's a few seconds of silence. It's almost like you can hear his eye twitching in irritation, the bridge of his nose knotting up as his temper rises. Finally, he says, "Just… Stay out of my way."

He also happens to be pretty fun to mess with.

You chime from behind him, "Whatever you say, Lieutenant."

There's something about Aki that makes it both extremely easy to get on his nerves and very entertaining to do so. Your existence alone seems to be enough to get under his skin. When you make a joke or poke fun at him, he falls for it every time. If he really wanted to shut you down, he could easily ignore you, but he has this sort of complex about him that makes it impossible.

It's a constant struggle, where he feels like he has to have the upper hand, the authority over you. Where he feels like in every situation, he has to be correct, and you have to be the one proven wrong.

If you say go left, he'll say go right. If you say go slow, he'll say go faster. Someone like him, who's cold, diligent, and sensible should be totally incompatible with somebody like you, and in many ways, you are. But that just makes you want to get closer to him, to shatter the expectation and have him come to understand you just as much as you want to understand him.

Aki Hayakawa is clearly the type of man who strives to achieve his goals by any means necessary. He's determined, but doesn't seem egotistical, which makes him intriguing. You think he seems like the type of person who has his own sense of justice, his own tightly-knit morals. He follows the orders that are given to him and sticks to his principle. In short, he's the type of person who doesn't understand how to have any fun.

It'd be amusing to chip away at that, you figure. To get him to go against those values, to see him choose the immoral route instead. Being forced to work alongside those he swore to kill, to get revenge on, a devil, would probably be the first step.

So as much as he is difficult, and as much as he is a total hard-ass, he's also fun, you conclude. It's fun to wear down his serious exterior, to see him when he strays away from his usual poker-faced expression. It makes you wonder just how far you can push him, what else you can manage to get out of him. At what point would he finally break? When would that stern, rule-following demeanor finally snap, and what would happen when it did?

You've quickly found yourself trying to do anything to create sparks, to bring some sort of heat to that unshakeable cold. Aki makes it almost too easy, because whatever you say or do seems to immediately put him in a bad mood. That's why as you've been walking behind him, you haven't just been sightseeing. You've been formulating a plan.

You overheard Makima when she was giving him orders; Aki was given specific instructions not to kill you, not to fight you, and to let you handle any problems that occur. You're sure he's got to be dying to defy those, to put an annoying brat like you in your place.

You're going to figure out just what makes him tick. You'll find something that'll really piss him off, and then, once he snaps, you'll have won. Even if he thinks he's the one with the upper hand, if you can get him to defy the rules, to live a little, everything will have gone according to your plan. You thought being a devil hunter would be nothing but boring nonsense, but maybe now, things will start becoming entertaining.

He thinks you're some sort of trouble-maker? Then a trouble-maker is exactly what he's going to get.

"Hey, sir, I wanna know something," You ask him, speeding up a little so you're walking closer behind him, "Why do you hate devils so much?"

Aki's reply comes quickly and point-blank. "None of your business."

"Oh, come on. Just tell me."

"No," Aki says firmly, "Stop asking."

Your lips form into a subtle pout. "If we're gonna be working together, we should try to get to know each other, right? Why won't you just say it?"

"I have no intentions of getting to know you."

You pause for a moment, realizing you've hit a dead end. It seems like trying to get him to open up about anything is a no-go. You need something you can work with, something that's gonna give you a bit of leverage over him. If he doesn't want to play nice, that's fine. You have to change your approach, and there's one thing you think will work perfectly.

"Hm, well," You muse, "I want to get to know you. Tell me, would you say you're a strong devil hunter? Or a weak one?"

Aki scoffs, "What's it to you?"

"I just wanna make sure I'm working with someone who's on my level, not someone who's gonna hold me back."

There's a slight pause, before he replies, "The civilian sector is where weak devil hunters operate, not here."

He's avoiding the question. Are you touching a nerve, is he insecure? You might just have him with this.

"I don't think that's true, and you know why?"

Aki doesn't respond, waiting for your answer. You give him a moment to simmer, to try and figure out what you're going to say next. His arms are held uniformly behind his back, and you can see his hands start to tighten, his knuckles start to tense. You're glad he's not facing you, because if he was, he'd see the shit-eating grin plastered all over your face right now.

"I think Public Safety is filled with nothing but weak, useless devil hunters. I know 'cause… I'm looking right at one."

Aki abruptly stops in his tracks, and you nearly bump into his back when he does. He turns around on his heels, and for the first time since you left, you're looking right at him. His eyebrows are furrowed tightly, the bridge of his nose is crinkled up, and he's eyeing you up and down with this look of utter disgust and contempt.

Yeah, you've really done it now, but you can't shrink away just yet. You have to keep pushing, 'til you get him right where you want him.

"What the hell do you know about me?" Aki says, and the tone of his voice is much angrier than before, much harsher. You're aware that you're making a scene now, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, with people walking around you, giving the both of you dirty looks.

You can't pay any attention to them, you have to keep focused on Aki. Don't look away from him, don't show that you're at all affected, otherwise this won't work.

You reply, "You seem pretty weak to me, and what that lady said before confirms it, does it not?"

"I'm not weaker than you. You don't know the first thing about what makes a person strong or weak." Aki's eyes narrow as he examines you, his posture rigid.

"You sure about that?" You counter, straight-faced. "I heard what that lady said, she told you to let me handle things. So why did you tell me to let you handle it instead? You don't strike me as the type who'd disobey orders."

Aki steps in a little bit closer to you. With the way you have to look up at him to continue meeting his gaze, you're suddenly aware of how tall he is compared to you, his body casting a harsh shadow over your figure. He just about towers over you, in fact. It gives you the feeling that to him, you must be small and meager.

He utters his next words a little quieter than before, through gritted teeth, "Shut up. I'm your superior for a damn reason. If I tell you something, you listen and you don't question it."

"Oh, whatever," You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, "Superior doesn't mean anything if you're a weakling."

"You've got quite the attitude, don't you?" Aki leans over you, his voice sounding much closer to your ear, "I suggest you start watching your mouth, unless you want to have problems with me."

"Why don't you watch yours?" You keep your gaze locked on his, despite how difficult it is to meet his sharp stare. "You've done nothing but be rude to me since we've met, you know. I didn't do anything, I don't think it's justified."

"And you've done nothing but get on my last nerve."

You shrug, seemingly unaffected by his mood, but you feel the smallest tinge of regret, the slightest feeling of nervousness. For a second, you wonder if pissing him off this much is a good idea, but before you can contemplate it much further, you're already saying, "Not my fault you've got such a short fuse."

Aki brings his hand to your shoulder. He grips you hard, dragging you in. He's so close, mere inches away from your face; you can smell his fancy cologne, see the glimmers of spite that linger in his gaze.

When he speaks again, his voice is a low, strict murmur, "This is the last time I'm going to say this to you. I am your superior, and you're going to treat me as such. Start taking this job seriously and stop acting stupid before it gets you in trouble. Do you think I wanted to deal with your bullshit, to be forced to work with scum like you?"

The way he's scolding you, the deep and resentful tone of his voice: something about it makes heat rise to your cheeks, makes your heart pound impossibly faster. You feel embarrassed. There's a tight cord of anxiety forming in your chest — You feel like shrinking away from him, like you're suddenly the weak one in the situation. You were so confident earlier, but all it took was him reprimanding you like this for you to instantly regret what you just did.

You feel like telling him, I'm sorry, please, forgive me sir, because everything from him telling you off to the way he stands over you, expression unyielding, hand tightening on your shoulder — You feel overpowered, in every sense of the word. At his mercy. The pressure is building, but before you can look away, Aki tilts your chin up a little with his finger, coaxing you to keep meeting his gaze.

He leans forward just slightly more, and you notice now how he's speaking with his mouth mere inches away from yours. His lips look soft, they're parted a little, and although his tall frame in your vision is the only thing you can see, you know there's still people shuffling past. All these passerby, watching you get scolded like a child who's been naughty.

Aki continues, "The only thing I want you to do from now on is sit back, keep your damn mouth shut, and listen when I give you an order. It's not that hard to do, so quit acting like a brat and show me some respect, got it?"

You could do that, you really could step away right now. You could say you're sorry, and that would be that. But as much as the pressure is on right now, you still feel a lingering sense of satisfaction. He thinks he's the one in the driver's seat, but you can see it in his expression — His eye is twitching, his lips are pursed, his fingers are trembling ever-so slightly in frustration — He's going to snap. And you're the one who pushed him this far, who managed to get him this way.

Honestly, being pinned under his thumb like this, treated like you're lesser, getting him really, truly pissed — It gives you a sort of thrill. A certain kind of high feeling, like even though he's in control, he's the one scolding you, it still feels like you've won. You accomplished what you set out to do, did you not? You got under his skin enough to make professional, no-nonsense Aki stop working just to reprimand you and cause a huge scene.

This predicament of yours causes you to ponder the same thing you were dwelling on earlier, that same train of thought. How far would Aki go just to get the upper hand over you? What would he do to prove that he's right and you're wrong?

You know you shouldn't enjoy pushing his buttons like this. You're sure the logical option here would be to fall back in line. Go back to work, follow orders like you're supposed to. But where's the fun in that? You can push him further than this. He's nowhere near close to breaking yet, and you want to find out what happens when he does.

So, you say something you probably shouldn't — No, definitely should not say. Two little words that you know will piss him off more than anything.

"Or what?"

There's a pause. His hand is on you, his grip flexes, his body is so, so close. A brief stare-down, a deadlock that leaves you listening to the sound of your own heartbeat drumming hard in your chest, your mind spinning as you wonder what he's going to do, and what he's even capable of doing. And then —

"How about I show you, hm?" Aki stands up straight, peering down at you with an unreadable expression. He tilts his head, gesturing to the side, towards an alleyway that rests in between the tall buildings and crowded street corners. It's dark, and despite how much you squint your eyes, it's impossible to tell where it leads.

"C'mere."

Before you know it, before you even understand why, you're following him as he leads you deep into the alley. It's quiet, sort of dingy, cast in a dim, cool shadow. Far enough away from people that you can't hear them, but still close enough that you can see their shapes as they pass by the entryway.

You're walking into the alley deeper, further, and you're about to ask, "Hey, sir-" But before you can get out, What are we doing here? He cuts you off by turning around and grabbing you by the collar of your shirt, slamming your back against the brick wall.

Aki quickly has you caged in here, one hand tightly gripping your collar, the other placed firm on the wall beside your head. His knee slots into the empty space between your legs to trap you further, and he pulls you off the wall, dragging you forwards roughly by your collar until you're closer to his face. All you can do is sit there, limp, unable to move as he has you cornered. The impact of your back hitting the wall made your eyes shut involuntary, but you slowly open them now.

You can look at him a lot closer than before; you study his earrings, black and shiny, glinting in the low light. His jawline is sharp, his nose is pointy and defined. He smells like cigarette smoke and cedar, completely intoxicating. Pinned this close against him, with his eyes never leaving yours, you feel like you could drown in his gaze. He's looking at you in a certain way that makes you feel trapped, like he's looking at something inferior, something he owns.

Aki manages to somehow sound even more pissed when he speaks this time. "I don't know why you think it's acceptable to talk back to me, but you need to be taught something about respect, because clearly, you don't get what it means."

You retaliate, "I don't need to be taught shit from you."

"Apparently, you do. You fail to understand something as simple as respecting authority. If I was in your situation, I wouldn't be acting like this, I'd understand my place. But I guess you just don't get it." Aki's eyes narrow and his fist tightens on your collar. He keeps a resolute, level tone. "Miss Makima should have never taken you in, I think you're a lost cause."

It's difficult to speak with your collar choking you, Aki practically holding you up by it, but you still manage to spit out, "Huh? My situation? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You really don't get it, do you? I guess I have to spell it out," Aki scoffs, "You're a fucking devil, and devils are less than human. As long as you're a devil, you'll be my subordinate, that's just the way it is. You should appreciate that I'm kind enough to give you this much."

That word in particular, devil — The way he says it is laced with so much animosity, chewed up and spat out from his lips, like he hates even having to say the word. Like it's something about you, about this world, he absolutely, wholeheartedly despises.

Your hands reach for his, grabbing at his knuckles, at where he grips your shirt, but to no avail; he refuses to let up. His thigh slides further upwards until you're sat between it, and you can start to feel the slightest amount of friction between your legs.

You counter, "Well, aren't you nice. This is what you call kind? Treating me like shit, talking down to me like I'm some kind of animal?"

"The way I'm treating you is all you deserve. I could kill you right now, but I'm generous enough to let you live. If you knew what's good for you, if you were at all smart, you'd ditch the attitude and be on the ground, licking the dirt off my shoes."

"Nah," You shake your head, and despite your situation, even though it would seem like he has the advantage here, you still have a playful smirk growing on your face. This is it, you're winning. "That lady told you not to kill me, and dogs like you always do as they're told."

"Makima told me I can put you down if you try to run or disobey my orders. If you think your insignificant life means anything to her, you'd be dead wrong."

"Put me down, eh?" You cock an eyebrow, a dry laugh escaping your mouth, "Like you even have the balls to do that."

Aki taunts, "Yeah? You think so?"

"I know so."

After you say those words, everything happens in a matter of seconds.

You notice his grip on your collar flex before he twists, still holding onto you. He roughly flings you away from the wall, with enough force that you stumble and fall on your ass. You manage to push yourself up, Aki standing over you and watching, allowing you to shakily stand to your feet. You don't have time to prepare to fight, though, because the second you've got your bearings, the last thing you see is him cracking his knuckles before his fist connects with your face.

Fuck, he hit you hard. So hard you fall back again, all the way until you're on the ground. You can feel blood welling at your split lip, and you taste it on your tongue, where you accidentally bit down. The concrete pavement is icy cold against your skin; it feels good, almost, helping to soothe the stinging in your cheek.

You really didn't expect him to hit you like that… Although, in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. Slowly, your senses start to return, the pain beginning to fade, but your daze is completely shattered when you feel Aki's foot come down on your face.

He steps on your head with what feels like his full weight, grinding your cheek under his foot like you're a doormat, shoving your face further into the floor. It's filthy: the way you're pinned between the bottom of his shoe and the dirty ground of the alleyway. There's the sound of steel scraping metal, his sword being drawn from the sheath, the low hum of his voice — Don't move. — and then, you feel the sharp edge of his blade on your neck. So close, one misstep or tiny movement from slicing into your skin.

Although your state doesn't make it easy, you're still able to see him in the corner of your vision; his expression deadpan, as if he's looking down at something far lesser, an insect.

"You didn't put up much of a fight, did you?" Aki taunts, his eyes examining you, "Only one hit to take you out? If you weren't a devil yourself, I'd say there wasn't a good likelihood of you surviving past your first mission."

You ignore him. "Get your foot off my fucking face."

Aki leans his head down a little. He's silent, and in the corner of your eye, you can see the way his jaw flexes, the way he gathers saliva in his mouth. Then, before you have a chance to react, a glob of his spit lands on the front of your shirt.

"Filth stays on the ground, where it belongs."

You wiggle a little under him, trying to see if there's a way to get up, but Aki responds by pressing the blade of his sword firmer to your neck. Now, if you move even a centimeter, it's sure to cut you. Aki addresses it: "Didn't I tell you not to move? You're going to end up hurting yourself."

Hurting yourself. Like he isn't the one holding the sword that's pressed to your throat right now. Like you're the one who caused this to happen, not him.

You sigh defeatedly, "This is pointless. We both know you're not gonna kill me, so just let up already."

"Of course I'm not. It isn't worth my damn time. Wouldn't be worth it to have to clean up the mess afterwards, either."

With his foot still pressed to your head and his sword on your neck, Aki uses his free hand to rustle through the pocket of his suit jacket. He pulls a thin cigarette from the pack, sticking it between his teeth. He finds his lighter next, and you can hear him strike the wheel with his thumb. One, two, three times, before there's a flame to bring the cigarette to life.

You're still slightly dazed, but the adrenaline is starting to overpower the hazy feeling. Your cheek is sore from where he keeps stepping on it. There's a slight, dull sting coming from your lip, and you can feel the blood starting to dry.

Now this, this is the most pathetic you've felt in a long, long time. Your lip split from where he hit you, his foot shoving your face into the ground, his sword on your neck, all while he nonchalantly lights his cigarette.

This is what it's like to lose against him, to genuinely find yourself beneath him, obedient. However, the most pitiful position you've been in since you met him also happens to be the most exciting.

That thrill from before: you can feel it now, even stronger. In reality, it never truly went away. You're annoyed, but your heart pounds in your ribcage, you feel fire under your skin. Your head feels fuzzy and light, like you're floating in fluffy white clouds, fogging up and obscuring your vision, making it harder to think clearly or rationally.

You should be done, you really should be done with this. The attitude, the quarreling. A sword to your neck should be the final straw. But should means nothing to you. Since when have you done what's correct, what you should be doing?

You said it yourself. Aki isn't going to kill you. The heart-racing thrill: you want it more, you can take more from him. This is the most entertained you've felt all damn day. The exhilaration is so fun to chase, and Aki is so, so easily toyed with.

There's a little smile tugging at your lips when you speak again, and you hope Aki can't hear it in your voice. "That lady told you not to fight me, did she not? I wonder what she's gonna say when she finds out you went directly against your orders."

Aki speaks in between the cigarette in his teeth, grinding his heel a little harder into your cheek, making you wince. "Do you want me to give you another thrashing, or are you gonna shut up now?"

"Tch. You're an asshole."

"Yeah, sure." Aki shoves his lighter back in his pocket, taking a long, drawn-out drag from his cigarette. The smoke spills from his lips as he tilts his head back and slowly exhales. Finally, he says, "What's your point?"

Your point? Your point is he's infuriating, impossible to get along with, and the most insufferable person you've ever had the misfortune of working with. Your point is that Aki is utterly difficult, and yet, he's the most captivating person you've ever encountered.

No-one has put you in your place quite like this before. Nobody has ever made you feel this overpowered, this pathetic. There's something exciting about Aki being the first.

There's elation, a thrill, in the feeling of being conquered by him, of having the power shifted away. And there's euphoria in the feeling of getting closer to him, when his hands were on you, when his mouth was just inches away from yours. There's a certain dizziness to the way he smells, to the way he effortlessly towers over you, to how physically strong you know he is, even though he holds himself back. The low, sultry lull of his voice goes right between your legs every single time he talks.

Perhaps you want to break him just as much as you want to be broken. The idea of getting closer to him, closer than ever before, beating all the odds stacked against you, is absolutely alluring.

Aki is a sworn devil hater, a model for professionalism, dignified and principled in every way. How amazing would it be to see him defy that, to make him want you, even though it contradicts all of his supposed values? He's been putting on this front, acting like he stand you, but the way he touches you even though he doesn't have to, the look of clear want in the back of his eyes that he's been trying to hide — Those things say differently.

So maybe there's something else, something more you can gain from this struggle. Maybe, just maybe, there's another way to go about this. There's a different approach you can take, one much, much more satisfying. It's high risk, high reward. You're really not sure if Aki — straight-laced, goody two-shoes Aki — would ever do something so indecent. Aki, who hates devils, who always follows the rules, and who has no idea how to enjoy himself. A part of you is sure this won't work, but if it does, if this pays off…

"You wanna know what my point is? Do you?" You taunt, finally breaking the silence between the two of you.

Aki fiddles with the hilt of his sword, causing the blade to tap gently against your skin. He replies simply, without any elaboration: "No."

"My point is I think you're compensating for something."

Aki snorts, "Really? You were silent for so long, and that's the best insult you can come up with? You can do better."

"I'm not saying it 'cause it's an insult, I'm saying it 'cause it's fucking true," You argue, speaking through gritted teeth. You're looking right up at him now, your gaze shooting daggers. Aki stares back with nonchalance, but also with a hint of curiosity, taking another lazy hit from his cigarette.

You continue, "Guys like you only act this way because they're compensating for whatever they don't have. Did it make you feel good to take your frustrations out on me? Why don't you toss me around a little more, it might make you feel even better."

"I wouldn't have needed to do this if you just followed my orders in the first place."

"Nope, this isn't about that for you," You wiggle a little bit under his weight, "This is about you wanting to take your anger out on a poor, defenseless devil."

"This is about me teaching you a lesson on discipline. Seems I was unsuccessful. You haven't learned a thing."

The blade of his sword, cool and sharp, presses further against your skin, shutting you right up. Your breath catches in your throat and you stare back at him, wide-eyed.

Aki holds his cigarette idly between his fingers, smoke rising up from the end. "You run your mouth way too much for your own good. For a 'poor, defenseless devil' you were acting real cocky earlier. What happened to that? You're the one who called me weak and useless. Now look at you."

Then, Aki leans over, resting his weight on his bent knee, on the foot still pressing your face into the ground. In a tone much quieter than before, he says, "So, are you going to be quiet, or should I shut you up myself?"

You eye him up and down. It's hard to breathe, hard to speak or even think, but you're just barely able to keep your guard up. You ask, "Are you going to answer any of my questions?"

"I don't think they warrant answers."

"Tell me, are you compensating for something? Or not?"

Aki scoffs, "Are we really still on this subject?"

"The fact that you won't tell me just means I'm right. You're probably a virgin, getting all pissy with me 'cause you're mad no girls will give you any attention."

You can see the way Aki's jaw flexes, partially gritting his teeth as he sternly commands, "Watch your damn mouth."

But you don't: "Is it fun to be Public Safety's measly little dog? I'm sure they keep you on a tight leash, never allowing you to have any fun. I bet you spend all your time running around, doing errands for that bitch, hoping someday she's gonna give you a chance. I'm sure that-"

You cut yourself off with a sharp intake of breath when you feel Aki press his blade into your neck. The pressure is only slight, but it's just enough to prick your skin. A thin rivulet of blood trickles down your neck, pooling onto the sidewalk under you, spilling from the small cut his sword created. Thump thump thump — Your heart beats faster, so hard you can hear it loud in your ears and feel it pounding in your chest.

Sword to your throat, his foot stepping on your head, your own blood spilled; your body is frozen, but your head feels high. And when you peer up at him through blurry vision slowly beginning to focus, Aki looks like he's about to fucking lose it.

Where his hand clasps the hilt of his sword, his grip tightens, his knuckles clenching. His lips curl into a scowl, his eyebrows furrow into a knot. He glares down at you with frustration, with a look like he wants you dead. This time, all he can manage is a choked, restrained, "Shut up."

Your breathing comes out much harsher than before, and your eyes nervously flicker across his form. There's pressure building in the air, in between the two of you, so tense it feels like it's weighing down on you. With a voice that comes out weaker than you intend, you mutter, "Am I right?"

"You're disgusting," Aki flicks his dying cigarette, scattering ash down, where it lands all over your clothes. "That's what you are."

"And you have a small dick."

In a single moment, with those few words, the cord of tension snaps — Aki swings his sword away from your neck and brings his foot off of your head. He takes a few steps back from you, then commands, "Get up, and don't make me tell you twice."

You're a bit weak when you move, your limbs numb from laying on the hard concrete for so long. Hesitantly, you sit up, brushing the ash from the front of your shirt with your palm, the fabric still a bit wet from where he spit on it.

Aki drops his cigarette butt on the ground, stamping it out with his shoe. You catch him sliding his sword back in the sheath strapped around his shoulder, muttering something to himself so quietly you hardly hear it. Something like, Can't believe I got your filthy blood all over it. Then, he grabs your elbow to yank you up the rest of the way, to your feet.

Aki holds onto you tightly, guiding you up against the wall, putting you in the same position he had you in earlier: his height dwarfing yours, his knee caging you in. One of his hands presses flat to the brick, beside your head, while the other moves to grab your chin, forcefully tilting your head up so you have no choice but to look him in the eyes.

There is it again — That sort of possessive look present in his gaze, framed by his messy bangs and heavy eyelids. He's close, so close, even more than last time, it seems like. If he were any closer, you're sure he'd be able to hear how much your heart is pounding right now.

Aki exhales a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back to relieve some of the tension there, before he finally speaks.

"Why don't you say what you said again? To my face this time."

The frustration and anger you felt from him earlier have all but disappeared from his voice, replaced by the smooth, scolding tone you've become plenty familiar with by now. You can hear his breathing, soft and controlled. You can see the subtle rise and fall of his chest. There's that intense pressure again, combined with heat, with the closeness between the two of you. With the warmth radiating off your body and his, made stronger by the animosity.

Once again, the balance has shifted, but not in the way either of you expect, not in the way it would seem. In reality, by bringing the two of you closer, Aki just did you a huge favor.

You answer, "I said you're Public Safety's mutt, and not a very good one, at that."

"And? What else?"

"And that you have a small dick."

Aki taunts, voice deadpan, "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Oh?" You huff a dry laugh, "Is that an offer to show me?"

"Tch," Aki scoffs, his eyes narrowing in contempt, "Don't be ridiculous. Do you think I don't understand what you're getting at? Do you think I'm stupid?"

He's caught onto you, hasn't he?

A grin tugs at the corners of your cheeks. "Of course not, sir. I think you're quite smart, actually. I just think you could stand to live a little, and if you understand what I'm getting at, then you should know what I mean."

Aki keeps his hold on your chin, gripping a little tighter. The pad of his thumb brushes ever-so slightly over your bottom lip, where the blood has nearly dried. You're hot all over, and his hand is cold; his touch causes you to shiver.

Aki continues, his voice low and quiet, "How do you imagine all of this playing out, hm? Acting like a brat isn't going to get you what you want. You seem to believe you're doing something here, but look where your antics have gotten you."

His eyes flicker down, to the shallow wound on your neck. A dried stream of blood still lingers on your skin, and a tiny pebble of fresh blood wells from the cut, threatening to drip down. Then, his gaze flicks back to your face, resting on your lips. "All you did was end up getting yourself hurt."

"Hm…" You muse, tone exaggerated as you feign thinking. His thumb continues to toy with your bottom lip as you talk. "No, I don't think it's what I want. It's what you want, actually."

"You're projecting."

You can't help but chuckle at that. There's a slight, teasing lilt in your voice when you speak again, the words dripping like honey, sweet and saccharine, "Isn't it hard, sir? It has to be so difficult, always following someone else's orders, never having the opportunity to take what you want. Why don't you be selfish for a change? Don't you want to have some fun?"

Aki feels your lips quiver under his thumb. Your pupils are blown, gaze pooling with something he knows, but can't even begin to fathom. And when he moves his hand, faintly cupping your cheek, he feels the warmth radiating from your skin, the fire quickly spreading from you to him, filling his own body with a steady burn.

His touch, delicate and light, is a perfect juxtaposition to his next words: harsh and strict. He replies, "What's difficult is having to deal with you. I'm sick of it."

You feel his fingertips as they start to trail your jawline, tracing the shape, all the way until his hand is able to firmly hold the back of your neck. Your breath hitches, your eyes widen. Aki can see it in your face, in your reaction — The way his intimate touch intoxicates you, instantly sending blood rushing to your head.

"I… I think…" You manage, gnawing on your bottom lip in an attempt to maintain your composure, "I think you wanna have fun, you just don't want to admit it. You don't have to hold back with me, you know. I'm sure you wanna enjoy yourself."

"No, I don't. What gives you the impression that I do?" Aki replies, but he offers a tender squeeze to the back of your neck, and when he exhales, his breath comes out the slightest bit shaky. His eyes narrow, and it's like you can see the way his gears are turning, thought process reflected in his gaze. As if he's wondering, debating back and forth with himself… Does he? Does he want to enjoy himself?

You've been keeping your arms at your sides since he first pinned you here, but with his eyes never wavering from your face, Aki can see your hand start to move in the corners of his vision. You wedge an arm between yourself and him, hesitantly pressing your palm to his chest, over the folds of his suit jacket. The fabric is soft to the touch, smooth. Clearly well-kept, dry cleaned and ironed to make it so.

You can feel the way his heart drums under your palm to a quick, eager rhythm, how his chest swells with every deep breath. The bridge of his nose scrunches ever-so slightly — the only sign that he noticed — but Aki doesn't move, nor does he make any attempt to stop you. He's frozen in place, tentatively waiting for you to take the next action. Entertaining you, to the slightest degree.

And you do just that: with a faint smile on your face, you slowly drag your palm down. Over his chest, fingertips ghosting across the crisp folds in his jacket, over the neatly done buttons. Then, down further, to cup the shape of his hip, to rub circles on his thigh, your hand just barely squeezing.

"You say that you don't, but," Your voice is quiet, your fingers rub teasingly close to his inner thigh, and Aki bunches the hand that rests on the brick wall into a tight fist. "You're here, aren't you? You could get off of me any minute now and leave me here in this alley, but you haven't. You wanna tell me why that is, hm, Hayakawa? You wanna tell me what you're doing right now, why you have me pinned here?"

No, you know why, and you want it just as badly as he does. You want to find out what he looks like with his crisp suit out of place, his tie loose, his shirt unbuttoned. You want to hear his voice when he can no longer maintain his level tone, what it sounds like when he breaks.

You take a deep, trembling breath in. Aki exhales a slow, steady, controlled breath out. Here in this moment, it feels as though time only exists between the two of you. It passes in fractions, in every flicker of Aki's eyes over you, and in every faint beat of your heart.

You can hear a plane as it flies overhead, a distant car horn honk — A subtle reminder that you're still in public, that what you're about to do is incredibly risky, but honestly, you can't bring yourself to care. The risk will make this all the more exciting.

You speak to fill the growing silence, voice barely more than a whisper, staring up at Aki through your eyelashes. "You're so quiet. I bet you're thinking about it."

Aki swallows, his voice lowered to match your volume when he replies, "Thinking about what?"

You smile. "About bending me over and taking me in this alleyway, right here, right now."

Aki sucks in a harsh, sharp breath. You lean in further, and his head dips in a little lower — Perhaps by accident, perhaps by choice. You stand up straighter to bring yourself closer to him, practically on your tiptoes; Aki can feel your warm breath fan out over the shell of his ear when you speak.

"Well?" You ask. The heat from your breath and your soft voice in his ear causes Aki's whole body to shiver. "You're the one who said you didn't want to deal with bullshit or messing around. How about we get to the point, and you go on and tell me what you want to do to me."

"I… I don't…"

Aki trails off; the words are stuck in his throat, unable to form, and he cuts his sentence short with a loud gasp when your lips suddenly press to his ear. Your hand grabs the diamond of his tie, yanking him in even closer. You trail kisses down his cheek, his jaw, so light they can hardly be felt, so teasing they send sparks of electricity through his veins.

You whisper against his skin, "Tell me how badly you wanna fuck me right now."

"I think… I think that's just what you want." Aki tries to keep his voice unshaken, but you can tell how it's beginning to waver, his resolve faltering. There's a warm flush blooming on his cheeks, and he leans his head further into your shoulder, hoping you won't be able to see it. "You're awfully desperate. As if you even have the privilege to be."

"No, you definitely want this, just as much as me. You're the desperate one here, I'm sure."

Aki grits his teeth and chokes out, "I don't fuck devils."

You grip his tie tighter, pulling him in until you're able to press your lips to his neck; Aki's body curls over you, obedient. His heart is pounding — You can feel it, the way his pulse thrums steadily beneath your lips. Your teeth connect, nipping faint love bites, mouth hot on his skin, and he's practically melting at the sensation, his weight starting to slide down the wall. I don't fuck devils, he claims, but when your hand trails from his thigh to between his legs, you can feel where the stiff outline of his cock strains his slacks.

"Ah, s-shit," Aki stammers, "You…"

Whatever he was hoping to say dies out when you squeeze him. Aki sighs deeply, his thigh sliding down from the wall, his hips subtly shifting back to give you better access.

You palm his dick; he's so warm here, throbbing and aching under your touch, so much that you can feel his cock pulse even through the fabric. When you squeeze again, harder this time, Aki can feel precum dribble out, getting his dick messy, his boxers filthy.

You press a long, lingering kiss to his collar. Then, you pull away to admire your work; red smears cover his skin, up and down his neck, and the crisp, white collar of his dress shirt is marked with a vivid lipstick stain.

"Wow, you're so hard," You tease, trying your best to hold back a snicker, "Is this just from me kissing you? I knew you wanted me, but I had no idea you wanted me this badly."

The only thing Aki can manage to mutter into your ear is a quiet, forceless, "Stop."

You retort, "Why should I?"

Aki swallows hard to clear some of the dryness in his throat, then murmurs, "We can't do this, not here."

Yeah, he says that, but his words carry no bite, and his actions betray them; even while he speaks, even while he says we can't, he's rutting his hips into your touch, desperately seeking out more friction. A hushed whine leaves his lips when he grinds himself hard against your palm.

"Oh?" You smirk, "So that's what you want, you want me to stop, huh?"

Abruptly, you take your hand away from him. Aki's breath hitches from the lack of contact. His cock aches even more, suddenly feeling terribly confined in his slacks. So desperate to come free, to feel something.

Aki stutters, "No, I'm-"

You cut him off, "You're so needy, poor thing. All you have to do is admit you want me to touch you and I will. You think you can do that, sir?"

"Fucking," Aki growls, his hand squeezing the back of your neck, "What I want right now is to shut you the hell up."

"Hah, is that so?" You laugh, "And how are you gonna do that? Are you gonna shut my mouth with-" Your hand returns to grab him, palm stroking the shape of his cock through his pants, and Aki can't hold back a groan. "-this?"

The moment you said that, the second your hand began palming him again, it's almost like you flipped a switch. The last of his resolve was finally chipped away, his need for you reached a boiling point, and now, there's no turning back. You can sense it in the way his breath starts to quicken, in how his hand grabs your side with a tight grip, wrinkling up your dress shirt. You know he isn't holding himself back anymore when his lips hover over your neck, his breath warm, and he finally says what you've been waiting to hear.

"Yeah, you'd fucking like that, wouldn't you?" Aki's voice is low and sultry, laced with a hint of annoyance; his tone makes you feel weak, your heart flipping, the breath punched from your lungs. "Bet you're dying to have my cock down your throat. As if you even deserve it, considering the way you've acted."

A soft whimper escapes your mouth before you have the opportunity to stop it, and you swear you can hear Aki huff the faintest chuckle. He runs his hand down your lower back, all the way 'til he finds the curve of your ass, and you gasp when he gives it a firm squeeze.

Your eyelids flutter, and his tongue swipes over your neck — You're like putty in his hands then, instantly yielding. His tongue, warm and wet, licks up the stream of dried blood from your skin, the taste metallic in his mouth. You hastily rub his dick with your palm, and his lips latch to your wound; he sucks fresh blood from it, his teeth nibbling faint impressions, your taste fogging up his head. Somehow, you swear you feel him get even harder.

Aki mutters into your neck, "You're awfully quiet now."

It's difficult to formulate a sentence with his mouth all over you, but you manage to hesitantly ask, "And… And if I say that I do? If I say I would like that?"

Aki presses his lips to cut, placing a kiss so unexpectedly soft and tender it makes your head spin, your thoughts teetering. His fingers thread up through the base of your scalp, sending tingles down your spine. He answers, "I'm not sure you've earned it, honestly. You'd be lucky if I gave you my fingers — No, you don't even deserve that much. The most you deserve is my shoe to grind down on."

You're not even thinking before you babble, "I deserve it, I do. I… I really want you, please."

"Oh, you're so greedy," Aki hums, muttering breathlessly between his lips peppering teasing kisses on your neck, "I know you'd be happy with anything I give you, but you still want more."

You nod, squeezing the stiff tent in his slacks, and Aki sighs into your skin, quickly pulling back so he can look at you. He grabs your chin with his fingers, tilting your face towards him; his gaze meets yours, and his eyes are pooled with lust, pupils blown out wide, swallowing the blue of his iris.

In a low tone, voice smooth, Aki says, "I like it when you beg for me, it's fitting for a pathetic little brat like you. Why don't you beg a bit more, then maybe I'll consider giving you what you want."

This may be the first time you've listened to his orders, but the second you've realized that, pleas are already falling from your mouth and you can't do anything to stop them.

"Aki, please." You whine, and it's the first time you've said his name like this, too. The way you say it so desperately, like you really do need him — Aki feels his heart skip a beat in his chest, and his dick pulses under your hand. You plead, "I really want it, don't be mean to me."

"No," Aki scolds, his eyes narrowing, and he leans in a little further, speaking softly, his lips mere centimeters away from yours, "If you want it that bad, then ask me properly. Tell me what you want, and speak with some respect, otherwise you're not getting it."

You hesitate for a moment, listening to the heavy breaths — yours, and his — as they echo around the alley. Only for a moment, though, because you know exactly what he wants to hear, and that happens to be the only motivation you need.

Finally, you stammer, "I want your cock, Hayakawa, sir," You gulp, Aki's breath hitches, and then, you continue, "I want it in my mouth, want you down my throat."

"Fuck, you think you can take it?" Aki mutters breathlessly, and when you nod your head, he takes one step back from you. He briefly eyes you up and down, and his hand tremors slightly as he brings it to your shoulder.

"Then get on your knees."

You don't need to be told twice.

With his hand on your shoulder, Aki guides you to switch places with him, so that his back is to the wall and you're positioned in front of him, at his feet. He hurriedly pulls his sword strap off his body to make himself more comfortable, tossing it to the ground with a clatter. Then, he holds the back of your head, gently coaxing you to your knees.

His heart thrums hard in his chest, a wave of anxiety rising in his nerves. If he's being honest with himself, Aki still isn't sure if he should be doing this. No, he definitely shouldn't. He should get back to work, stop acting stupid, quit messing around, but he just can't.

Honestly, when did he get this way? Was it when you first laid your hands on him, or was it when he figured out that you wanted him, when you gazed at him with that hazy look in your eyes like you're just begging for him to take you? He isn't sure, he doesn't know when or why or how he became unable to resist you, but right now, he really doesn't care.

He wants this way too damn bad. He needs you so much that all he can do is sit back and let this happen, even if his brain is telling him he shouldn't be.

And when he sees the way you obediently sink down to your knees in front of him, hands promptly fiddling with his belt to get it undone: it makes his head feel hazy, clouded with a certain sense of adoration, and all of his hesitations are quickly tossed away.

You stare up at him expectantly for a second, and Aki chides, "What are you waiting for? You're not chickening out, are you? You're the one who said you wanted this right here, right now."

You're not, definitely not. You hesitated for a moment only because you suddenly realized the gravity of your situation, and you can hardly believe it's even happening.

This is it, you did it, you won. You've got rule-following, devil-hating Aki Hayakawa pushing your head towards him, exhaling a heavy sigh of relief when your hand cups his bulge through the fabric of his slacks, his dick throbbing and stiffening beneath your touch. When you look up at him, you can see he's practically panting, his lips parted as he reaches up and grasps his tie to work it loose. His eyes never leave your figure as he watches you, anticipating your next move with bated breath.

This is really happening, you're going to do this right here, down a dingy alleyway in broad daylight and… Honestly, you want him so badly you can't even begin to question things.

So, you shake your head and reply, "I'm not. I'd never. And I won't change my mind."

"Good. That's what I like to hear."

The metal buckle of his belt clangs as you unfasten it. In this moment, everything starts to seem louder in your ears, more surreal. You can hear the sound of his breathing, shaky exhales quickened with nervousness and excitement. The smell of him fills your lungs: his rich cologne and cigarette smoke.

With his belt undone, hanging in the loops, you pop the button on his slacks next. Your fingers clasp around his zipper, pulling it down slowly, and as you do, Aki shoves his hand in his jacket pocket. He finds a cigarette, placing it between his lips, then his lighter, and he uses his palm to shield it from the breeze. You're edging his pants down his hips when you hear him strike the wheel, flame bringing his cigarette to life.

The outline of his cock is even more noticeable through his boxers, thick and heavy where it sits on his thigh. There's a bit of wetness seeping through the fabric, from where his precum has dribbled out and dirtied it. Aki shoves his lighter back in his pocket, holding his cigarette between two fingers; he brings it to his lips, inhales from it deeply, lazily, and when your palm cups his dick, he groans, puffs of smoke falling from his mouth.

He's so fucking hard, so needy — You can't help but tease, "See, I knew you wanted to have some fun with me, Mister 'I don't fuck devils.'"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Aki snaps, flicking the ash from his cigarette, his eyebrows furrowing up, "God, always such a pain in my ass — Why don't you put that pretty mouth of yours to use, show me it's good for more than just giving me lip."

"Oh? You think it's pretty?"

Aki seems to falter for a moment. "It's-"

He interrupts himself with a shuddery gasp when you press your tongue to his clothed cock, breathing hot air that he can feel even through the fabric. You swirl your tongue around him, getting the fabric of his boxers even wetter. His whole body shivers, and he leans back further against the wall to support himself.

You place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his stiff bulge; Aki whines softly, and through his heavy breaths, he's just barely able to choke out, "I can't… Don't tease me."

As much as you want to oppose those words, you can't deny that you want this just as badly as he does, and you're getting a bit impatient yourself. So, you simply flash a playful smile in response before hooking your fingers around the waistband of his briefs, gently tugging them down, pressing one last delicate kiss to his clothed cockhead as you do so. You yank his boxers past where his hip bones jut out, then to his thighs, just enough to take his cock out.

It's thick, pale, with a slight curve to it — So damn pretty that you nearly start drooling at the sight. Aki holds his cigarette deft between two of his fingers, reaching down to grab your face with his free hand, just as you wrap your hand around the base of his dick, stroking him to a lazy rhythm.

He mouths something so quietly you almost miss it: Hold still. Then, he shifts his hips until he can lay the length of his cock over your cheek. For a moment, he holds you there, admiring the way it dwarfs your face, a little half-hearted chuckle escaping his lips.

He brings his thumb to the tip of his cock while your loose palm continues to pump him. A faint, wet sound echoes in your ears as he rubs circles over the slit, gathering the sticky precum that leaks from there. He presses his thumb to your mouth, and when your lips part, he shoves it in, smearing his precum over your tongue.

"There we go," Aki praises, exhaling a long, unsteady breath. Your lips close around his finger and you give it a gentle suck. Aki groans, "Yeah, want you to suck on me just like that," He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks. "Got it?"

You nod, "Mhmmm. Yes, sir."

Sir. His cock throbs just at that. You've been so damn difficult, always arguing with him, always trying to get on his nerves, but now that he's finally figured out what you wanted from him, you're unusually well-behaved. He could get used to seeing you like this, he thinks. Your obedience just makes him want to ruin you.

Aki presses the tip of his cock to your lips, and you feel it throb hard when you kiss it. He pulls on your chin, coaxing you to open your mouth. Smoke wisps up from the end of his unattended cigarette. Punctuated by his harsh breathing, he slurs a string of instructions: Open wide. Stick out your tongue. C'mon, you're gonna have to open wider than that.

Once you take him into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head down on him, your throat adjusting to his size, Aki gulps and praises, Atta girl. Keep taking it just like that. Watch those teeth for me.

God, if being scolded by him makes you feel high, then being praised by him takes you even higher. Your head feels fluffy, and you whimper weakly around his cock. Aki presses down on the back of your head with one hand, bringing his cigarette to his mouth with the other.

He takes a deep inhale before he's mumbling around the smoke, "Oh, that's it, baby." The pet name slips from his lips before he even realizes. His words make you even dizzier, and he tosses his head back, Adam's apple prominent in his throat, "Fuck, don't stop until it's all the way in, yeah?"

Aki groans when your tongue swirls around his length, pushing your head down more, encouraging you to take all of him. It's so much, he's too much, his cock filling every part of your mouth and your throat, to the point where it's difficult to breathe, let alone keep your composure. The only thing you can think about, the only thing filling all of your senses is him, and all you can do is stare up at him, doe-eyed, as he shifts his hips forwards and crams his cock all the way down your throat.

The tip of your nose nudges at his pelvis. Aki holds you in place, his palm rubbing the back of your head, fingers toying with your hair. He can see the way you're struggling to take him, muffled gags sending weak vibrations down his length, but he doesn't let up — He makes you watch as he takes a long, drawn-out drag from his cigarette, smoke falling from his lips as he exhales slow and steady.

With your warm and wet mouth around him, swallowing him up, the nicotine seems to hit his system harder than before — Aki feels his whole body relax, his eyelashes heavy and fluttering, his shoulders slumping.

"You're finally quiet now… I knew you could be good for me." He mumbles breathlessly, and he holds his cigarette between his teeth so he can reach down, wiping the tears welling at the corners of your eyes with his thumb. He feels the heat radiating off of your cheeks, and he carefully brushes messy strands of hair from your face so he can get a better look at you, tucking them carefully behind your ears.

The cock-drunk expression already present on your face, the pleading look in your eyes, the way your mouth feels around him — Aki's breath starts to come out sharp and fast, his heart pounding in his chest, and he knows, he knows he can't restrain himself anymore, even if he wanted to. Not when it's this good, not when you look so needy for him, not when he's this desperate for you.

It doesn't matter if he shouldn't be doing this, he doesn't fucking care if someone turns and walks right down this alleyway. He's going to be selfish, he's going to take what he wants from you. This is what you wanted him to do, isn't it?

Finally, he drags your head back, giving you a second to breathe and your jaw some relief, but the moment is short lived when his hips abruptly rut forward, shoving his cock back in. Aki takes control then, gripping your hair tightly as he starts up a rhythm, fucking himself into your mouth.

The alley quickly becomes filled with the wet sounds of you slurping and choking on his dick. He reaches so deep into your throat, and as his pace gets rougher, more and more greedy, your throat starts to ache, and your mind is a muddled blur, thoughts consumed by the feeling of his dick in every corner of your throat.

His cigarette is nearly spent, and Aki takes one last drag, sighing as the smoke leaves his lungs. He taps the cigarette with his finger, flicking the ash to the ground below, before he asks, "Where do you want this?"

You're confused, at first, but Aki shows you what he's getting at when he hovers his cigarette over the nape of your neck, where exposed skin peeks out from the collar of your shirt. His expression is unreadable, but when you look up at him through your eyelashes, you notice how his pupils are blown out wide, how his face is dusted a warm shade of pink.

"Shit… Should I put it out right here?"

You mumble around him, the vibrations on his cock causing him to inhale a sharp breath through his teeth, and Aki seems to take it as a yes.

He presses the end of the cigarette down, putting it out right on your skin, just above your collarbone. He grinds it in deep, using your neck as his ashtray, and it burns. You whine as an enveloping heat blooms over your skin, across your neck and your shoulders. There's a bit of pain, cold and warm at the same time; it mixes with pleasure, with the ache between your legs, and then, it goes numb. Aki flicks the cigarette away once it's completely out, a slight, satisfied smile forming on his face.

"You're so amazing, God," He praises, exhaling a shaky sigh, "Such a good girl."

The sounds coming from the both of you grow louder and louder, more and more obscene. You're choking on him, and he's panting, his chest heaving with every breath, low whines of pleasure falling from his lips between every gasp. What if someone hears you? Someone could turn down this alley, they'd hear your gags and whimpers, and they'd see you on your knees, your superior's dick in your mouth, Hayakawa's dick — While the two of you are supposed to be working, no less.

What would his co-workers, what would his boss say, if they went looking for him and saw this? Utterly square, professional Aki, getting off instead of doing his job. In a dingy alleyway, his cock down the throat of a fucking devil. He's always so calm and composed, poker-faced, but here, his face is flushed red, his lips are parted, quivering slightly, and his expression is contorted in pleasure as he falls apart at the seams. If anyone saw, he'd never live it down, surely.

Your eyes flicker over to the entrance of the alley. Shadowy figures of people can be seen walking past, faraway and tiny, but still there. You're sure the darkness of the alleyway is enough to conceal the two of you, but if any of them come this way, if anyone walks back here…

"Hey."

Aki's voice interrupts your thoughts, his hand grabbing you firmly by your cheeks, and your gaze immediately darts back to him. There's a slight look of annoyance on his face, and in a resolute tone, his hips stalling, he sternly commands, "Look at me. Don't look anywhere else, I want you to focus on me."

You offer him a shallow nod. Aki starts up his rhythm again, his hand returning to hold the back of your head, shoving you down onto him, and his hips shifting forwards, inching his cock further into your mouth. You force yourself to keep your eyes on him, on his face.

Even though it's difficult to breathe, difficult to take him, it feels good, he tastes good. You begin to match his pace, bobbing your head in tune with his movements, swallowing him up as best you can manage. It's messy, wet tears coating your cheeks, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

His dick leaks warm precum down your throat. The shaft glistens from your drool each time you pull back, smeared a diluted red from what remains of your lipstick.

Aki brushes his fingertips over the cigarette-sized burn mark on your neck, rubbing it with his thumb, making it sting. You whimper, tears streaming down your face, and Aki cups your cheek in his palm, his thumb wiping them from your eyes. He sighs, and with his gaze still locked onto yours, you can see how his eyes become filled with adoration, his expression softening. In a voice barely more than a whisper, he mutters, "So pretty when you cry for me."

His breathing gets a little faster, his pace grows a little rougher, until he's fucking your mouth relentlessly, rolling his hips in an attempt to get himself even deeper inside. Your tongue swirls around his length — Aki whines, his body tensing; the stimulation on his dick is too much to handle, too perfect, too good, and when you force your head down, sucking hard, Aki can't take it, suddenly gasping, "F-Fuck, I'm gonna-"

He cuts himself off with a loud moan, his grip tightening in your hair, his head tossed back. For a moment, he considers pulling out, but when you shut your eyes and take him as far as you can, your lips wrapped around his base, he gives up; he buries his cock in your mouth as far as he can manage.

The pleasure builds, builds, builds, until with one last harsh suck on his dick, Aki feels it all boil over. Beads of sweat form on his forehead. His voice is strained, breaking, words slurred and nearly incoherent as he mumbles, "Oh God, cumming, I'm cumming — Swallow it, pretty baby."

And then, he's moaning through desperate gasps, his cock twitching as he spills into your throat. You swallow nearly all of his cum, reaching up to grip his thighs, your fingers digging into the fabric of his pants. When he's finally spent, sure that he's given you every last spurt of his cum, he relaxes, his body slumping against the wall. His hand softly strokes the back of your head: a subtle form of praise.

When you pull back, you wipe the drool from your chin and the tears from your face with the back of your hand. Aki catches his breath. His bangs stick to his forehead from his sweat, and he reaches up to hastily push them out of the way.

Slowly, he comes down, his eyes fluttering open; his gaze immediately darts to the entrance of the alleyway, lingering for a moment as the stars fade and his vision comes back into focus. No-one, that's good. He blinks away the rest of the haze before his eyes return to you.

You look like a mess, your cheeks tear-stained, your hair ruffled, trying your best to stifle little coughs. Well, he's sure he isn't faring much better. He's got to look pretty disheveled, too, with his tie loose, his face covered in sweat, and his cheeks red hot. And he's still hard, his dick starting to ache again, just at the sight of you.

Fuck, you could barely take him. You were choking on him so much, but still staring up at him with an eager, lust-filled look, like you were enjoying yourself just by pleasing him.

Yet, even though you could barely take him, even though you're still struggling to breathe, you're looking up at him with a wild, excited expression, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Aki has his gaze locked onto you, and he watches as you open wide, stick out your tongue, and let him see the bead of white — his cum — that lingers there.

Half in disbelief, half in pure ecstasy, Aki slurs, "Oh, God…"

You giggle, putting your tongue back in your mouth, and Aki swears he feels blood rushing to his dick when you swallow. When you speak, your voice is sickeningly sweet, enough to make Aki's heart leap when you ask, "You gonna fuck me now, sir?"

"Shit," Aki pushes himself off the wall, stumbling a little when he stands up straight. He finds his footing, then he crooks a finger at you, mumbling, "Up."

Your legs are a little shaky when you rise to your feet. Aki yanks his boxers up, not bothering to re-button his pants or fix his ajar belt. His hands fist your shirt collar, and before you can say anything more, he's yanking you towards him; his eyes flutter shut, and his lips come crashing onto yours.

The kiss is messy and desperate — You're wrapping your arms around his neck, and he's gripping your sides, dragging your body as close to his as he can get you. His lips feel just as soft and perfect as they look, and when they part, he's licking into your mouth, sucking eagerly on your tongue. You grip his tie to yank him in even more, and he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, bringing a hand to your jaw. His touch is delicate, a perfect contrast to how greedy his kisses are.

He tastes like fresh mint and the rich flavor of his cigarettes. You taste like himself, and the sensation has him reeling. His head goes foggy and light as he melts in the feeling of your lips on his, and just from this, he's already getting hard in his briefs again. You just taste too good, kissing you feels too amazing, too addicting. God, he's going to want to have you again, isn't he?

With his palm still holding your side, Aki carefully twists, switching your position with his. Before he presses you up against the wall, he places his hand over the small of your back, providing a buffer between you and the hard brick. Then, his hand is fumbling to pull your dress shirt out from where it's tucked into your pants. As soon as he's got it, he slips his hand up your shirt. Your whole body shivers at his touch, his hand cool on your warm skin.

Trailing his fingertips over your soft, bare skin, Aki feels the curve of your waist, traces the shape of your spine; he feels you melt into his touch, your body slumping, your back arching into him.

His fingertips are nimble, and his palm is calloused, but his touch feels absolutely heavenly. As his lips press harder against yours, he gropes and squeezes your breast through your bra, and you groan into his mouth.

When he pulls apart from you, you're both struggling to catch your breath, panting heavily, but he gives you little time to rest. You catch a glimpse of his face before he dips down — Pupils blown out wide, his face flushed, eyelids heavy — and then, his lips press softly to your neck.

You sigh out his name quietly, your fingers tangling through his hair, his topknot starting to come a little loose. His head feels fuzzy, his thoughts cloudy, but in a brief moment of clarity, between his gentle kisses and love bites, Aki whispers to you, "You wanna get out of here?"

Your response comes quicker than he expected. "No," You shake your head, gripping his hair tighter, "I can't wait, I want you right here."

Aki laughs dryly, burying his face into the nape of your neck. He should have known you would say that. His soft bangs brush over your skin, and his fingers absently toy with the hem of your bra, threatening to slip under.

"God, that's…" He pauses, exhaling a shuddery sigh, "That's dangerous, you know?"

"We've already taken plenty of risks, haven't we? What's one more?"

A bird chirps from somewhere above. A train whistles from someplace far away. Aki's hand slides down, feeling out the ridges of your ribcage. He rubs slow circles into your side with his palm, lost in thought. After a steady, deep breath, he softly replies, "If we… If I do this, then I'm not gonna be able to stop."

The way he says those words, his tone deep, his voice wavering — It implies exactly what he means. I won't be able to stop myself, I won't be able to hold back, even if someone walks down this alley.

You smirk. "Then don't."

Aki steadies himself with one last shaky breath in through his nose, out through his mouth. Then, he takes a few steps back from you. You see him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He reaches up, adjusting his askew tie, his eyes giving you a quick once over. He allows himself one last chance, one more moment of contemplation, of considering if he should actually go through with this. If he should really fuck you, you, a damn devil, right here, right now.

Well, should he? He's pretty sure he already established that he shouldn't, he just can't find it in himself to care. Right now, he's listening to his dick instead of his brain, but honestly, who can blame him? The way you're looking at him — It's like you're begging for him to let go, like you need for him to take you right now, in whichever way he pleases. It's absolutely intoxicating.

Still, you can see the hesitation in his gaze, the way he bites his bottom lip, how his fingers around his tie tremble more than they should. His tone seems genuine, softened at the edges when he asks you, "Are you sure, are you certain you want to do this?"

You huff, "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Because I'm- I mean, you can say if you want me to stop, y'know, if you…"

"Aki."

The firmness to how you say his name causes Aki to freeze. He eyes you up and down expectantly.

You continue, voice low, steady, "I'm sure, I've been sure. I told you, didn't I? You don't have to hold back with me." You breathe in, breathe out. A deep, heavy sigh. And then — "Do your worst."

Aki gulps. Do your worst. He wonders what his worst might be. What, exactly, you'd let him do to you. How much you'd be able to take. He supposes he'll find out.

In a strict, level tone, he commands, "Face against the wall."

You follow his instruction immediately, spinning around, and Aki continues, "Bend over. Spread your legs for me. Place your hands on the wall, like-" He steps forwards, grabbing your wrists in each hand and guiding you to press your palms flat on the brick. "This."

One of his hands settles on your waist, while he places the other on the small of your back. Aki guides you carefully until you're arched to fit perfectly under him: his tall frame is leant almost completely over yours, his hips are pressed up flush to your ass. Your arms are bent, your cheek nearly touching the brick wall, your legs spread a bit.

In this position, he's so close, and it's so obscene, your body arched, your legs open. Aki takes a deep breath, and with his chest fitting into the curve of your back, you can feel the way his chest expands, then contracts.

His body is large enough to dwarf your own, casting you in his cool, dim shadow. He wraps his arm under your stomach to pull you closer to himself, and when he does, you can feel the stiff outline of his cock in his briefs rub up against your ass — Already so hard, straining the fabric uncomfortably, dribbling precum out over his thigh.

Aki leans down, his deep voice close to your ear, breathless: "How bad do you want this?"

"Just as badly as you."

Aki chuckles. His palm travels down your back, all the way to caress the swell of your ass. "So, very, very badly then, huh?"

Your response comes in the form of a half-sigh, half-whimper as you shift to grind your ass on him, but to your surprise, Aki grabs your waist with an iron grip. He holds you still, stopping you. "Hey," You huff in frustration, "What's up, did you change your mind? Is someone coming?"

"No. I'll keep going, but there's something I want you to do for me first." Aki replies; his voice is suddenly stern, resolute, and it throws you off a little.

The gears in your head start to turn, and timidly, you ask, "And… What might that be?"

His hips shove towards you firmer as he drags you in, even closer. You can clearly feel his hard cock pressed up against you, but with him holding you still, you're provided no movement, no friction. It's fucking agonizing. His lips ghost over the shell of your ear, and he speaks at barely more than a whisper when he mutters, "I want you to apologize."

Aki nips at your ear; his warm breath and the intense closeness of his body on yours spread a wave of enveloping heat over your back. It's difficult for you to speak, your voice sounding feeble, but you still manage to ask, "...For what?"

Aki replies matter-of-factly, "For acting like a brat, and for your blatant disrespect."

"You… You can't be serious," You huff, rolling your eyes, "There's no way I'm doing that."

Aki's lips graze over your jaw, soft, but barely there. "Then you're not getting fucked. It's a pretty simple request — I'm not sure why you'd decide to throw a fit now, when you're so close to getting what you wanted. I thought you were more desperate than this." His voice is low, the slightest bit condescending, "You're still my subordinate, so be good and apologize like one."

Without a second thought, you snap, "Oh, bite me, you prick."

"I will if you ask nicely."

Aki grabs both of your hips, holding you still. Hesitantly, he grinds his clothed cock against your ass, a small gasp escaping his lips. Even through the layers of clothing: his boxers and your slacks, you can feel him. So thick, so close to giving you what you're desiring, but not quite.

As he slowly humps your ass, searching for whatever bit of friction he can receive, your mind begins to wander. His breath in your ear is heavy, shaky.

You think of when his cock was in your mouth, and imagine what it would feel like filling you up, his dick stretching you out. You imagine his precise fingers on your clit, long digits shoved in your aching pussy. A lump grows in your throat, a knot tightens in your chest. You want him so badly, so much it aches, and judging by the way he grinds on you, starting to rub his dick up against you with a desperate fervor, you're certain he wants you just as much.

Your lips quiver, words on the tip of your tongue, until finally, you blurt out, "Aki, fuck- I can't wait anymore. I really want you, please."

The desperate, syrupy tone to your voice causes Aki to briefly falter, if only for a second. His heart flutters in his chest, blood rushing to his cock, but his daze is shaken when you try to move your hips. He holds you firm, gripping even tighter: A silent command to hold still.

"You're so needy," He teases, his voice cold, but the slightest bit strained. When you yield, going slack under him, his hand slides around to your front, fingers toying idly with the button on your slacks. "We're supposed to be working, you know. But here you are, begging for me, and you couldn't even wait for us to go somewhere more private. You want my cock that badly? Tch, dirty girl."

Growing impatient, you counter, "And you were supposed to show me around the city, yet you're in some dingy alley getting your dick wet instead. I wonder what that says about you."

Aki wraps his arm around your stomach, dragging your body closer to his, making certain you feel the outline of his cock, how hard he is, how much he's throbbing. He mutters, "C'mon. That's no way to get what you want."

Even though he has his dick pressed up to your ass, even though he's grinding against you lazily, each of his sentences punctuated by his ragged breathing, Aki's voice assumes that same familiar, scolding tone. The tone that quickly puts you in the same overpowered, weak state you shifted in and out of when you first began this struggle. You're losing, again. But your head couldn't feel any higher.

Aki continues, his breath hot on your ear, "Talking back to me is going to get you nowhere. I'm sure I told you this before, I thought you understood. Were you not listening again?"

"I know," You slur, and there's heat rising to your cheeks from the embarrassment, from the pressure, "I was listening, I swear."

"I don't think you were. If you had been paying attention, you'd be busy apologizing to me right about now."

"Aki-"

"Be quiet." Aki snaps, "I don't want to hear anything else out of your mouth unless you're doing what I asked."

Slowly, teasingly, he glides his hand down, his palm caressing your inner thigh; when he hears the immediate hitch in your breath, he drags his hand away, further from what you want. You can't help but whine in disappointment.

Aki grinds a little harder against you. His cock is sitting thick and heavy on his thigh, the fabric of his boxers soaked from his dribbles of precum. He's aching, dying to be inside you, to feel your tight walls around his cock, to fuck you stupid. But still, he doesn't let up, refusing to give in. He won't, not until you're compliant. Not until he wins.

Your breathing comes out faster, more uneven, and Aki is panting just as hard. He slips his hand under your shirt, fingertips tracing circles on your stomach, his touch so light and delicate it makes your whole body shiver. The shape of his dick on your ass, his touch on your skin, his large figure caging you in, his warm breath on your neck — Everything reaches a fever pitch, and with your mind in a haze, you finally crack.

"I'm sorry!" You shout. Tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes as you continue to babble, stumbling over your words, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sir, please, forgive me. I really need you, I can't…"

Aki taunts, voice low, "Are you? What are you sorry for?"

You hear the button on your pants pop.

"For…" You gulp, "For acting like a brat, and for being disrespectful to you."

Then, you hear the zipper: drug down agonizingly slowly, the sound and the anticipation that comes with it seeming to cut through the echo of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You start to speak again — Sir, please, I'm — but before you can finish your sentence, Aki's fingers slip under your slacks. You cut yourself off with a sharp intake of breath.

"There we go." Aki praises, and he rewards you by pressing his fingertips to your clit through the fabric of your panties. He rubs faint, barely-there circles, but it's still enough to give you some of the pleasure you had been oh-so desperately searching for. Your legs tense up, a quiet whine escaping your lips. Your hands, still pressed to the brick wall, tighten into fists.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Aki takes his hand away to grab your pants, gently pulling them down to your thighs. Then, he cups your pussy in his hand. He can feel the warmth there with his palm, and when he speaks, his tone returns to the certain deep, resonating vibrato that always sends a pang between your legs. "Do you think you've been good enough to have me touch you? You think you've earned it?"

"Yes, yes," You reply quickly, but can hardly speak, nodding your head hurriedly. You're so wet, you're practically dripping, and you're certain he must be able to feel it through the damp fabric of your underwear. "I deserve it, I can be good. Just please-"

Aki interrupts, "You wanna be good for me?"

"Mhmm, yessir."

Leaning his body over you all the way, Aki hikes your dress shirt up to your chest, until his hand is able to grip your bare side. He gives you a gentle squeeze, then brings his other hand to hold under your chin. Carefully, he tilts your head upwards, guiding you to look up at him, his face situated directly above yours.

"Open your mouth."

You're following the command as soon as you hear it. You open your mouth slowly, staring up at him through a half-lidded gaze. It's difficult to see from this angle, but you're sure he looks composed, his messy bangs falling to frame his face. His expression serious, but his pupils blown out wide.

Aki taps his finger gently on your cheek. "You need to open wider than that. Stick out your tongue some, too. There we go."

He grips your chin tightly, his jaw flexes. A red-hot fire rises to your cheeks — You're embarrassed, sitting here with your mouth open wide and your tongue out, eagerly waiting for what you know he's going to do. This should be such a pathetic position for you to be in, this should be totally humiliating.

Shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself, of how desperate you're acting? And yet, all you can manage to think of, the one sensation that dominates everything, making your thoughts feel flowery, your limbs feel weak — All you feel is that utter, all-encompassing thrill.

And when he gathers saliva, spitting a glob of it directly onto your tongue, you whine, your thighs shake, your head feels dizzy and fluffy; Aki commands, "Swallow." And you're listening to those instructions to a tee, instantly feeling a rush of adrenaline and an ache between your legs the second you've swallowed down his spit.

Aki sighs deeply. His dick throbs once he sees you swallow, sending precum oozing down his thigh. His forehead falls to press to yours, his bangs brushed over your face. "Oh, fuck… Good girl."

He swiftly hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, hurrying to pull them down. His palms stroke your bare thighs, the stiff outline of his cock shoves against your ass — Even less friction than before, and you can feel it pulse with need, the fabric of his boxers a soaked mess.

"Where should I touch you?" Aki asks breathlessly, "Right here?"

Before you even have the chance to answer, he rubs his fingers through your soaked folds, gathering your slick on the digits. You're dripping out all over his knuckles, his hand quickly becoming a glossy, wet mess. Aki chuckles quietly, and he places a quick kiss to your forehead before leaning his head back over your shoulder, speaking close to your ear once more.

"God, you're wet… Did that turn you on, baby? Shit," His dick throbs, he exhales a half-sigh, half-moan, "You like it when I spit in your mouth? You're filthier than I thought you'd be. I love it."

You can't manage a response to that, just a feverish nod. Your eyes screw up tight, and you hear Aki spitting again — This time, into his hand. He brings his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit with the base of his spit-soaked palm, firm and rough.

If you're filthy for this: for wanting him to fuck you right here, in public, for getting wet when he scolds you, when he spit into your mouth — You're filthy, sure, but he's no better than you, is he? His dick is so hard it's aching, and you can feel his heart pounding like a drum where his chest presses to your back. He's the one who has you bent over here, who's getting off on teasing you perhaps even more than you are.

The heel of his palm rubs slow, deep circles on your clit. Aki taunts, "Feel good? I want you to tell me how it feels."

"Aki- S-Shit," The words barely come out, and you're speaking through tiny gasps when you mutter, "It's really good, please-"

You're not sure what you're begging for at this point, but Aki seems to get the hint. He brushes his fingers over your pussy, fingertips teasing at your entrance. "You want them inside?" He doesn't wait for an answer before he's easing two of his fingers inside you.

"That's it," Aki coos, his voice a little shaky. His fingers stretch you out, slowly and carefully. "Can you take them all the way?"

You manage to reply, "Mhmm.."

Your heart pounds incessantly in your ears, your legs threaten to buckle. You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself, and briefly, Aki stops. His voice in your ear is quiet, calm, seeming to resonate deep in your skull, deep within your chest.

I'm right here. Focus on me. Got it?

You're pinned beneath him here: Aki resting his body weight on top of you, his fingers inside your cunt, holding you up by your tummy with his other arm. You press your thighs together, the inside of them slick and wet, his arm right between them. You can feel the smooth fabric of his suit jacket sleeve rubbing your skin. If his sleeve isn't filthy already, it's going to be ruined after this, surely.

Aki presses his fingers in knuckle-deep: his ring and his middle, the two longest. And they're so long, reaching so deeply inside you, stretching you out perfectly. Gently, he curls them, pressing them right up to your sweet spot, eliciting a needy whine from your lips.

I know it feels good, but don't make too much noise. We wouldn't want anybody to hear us.

You offer him a shallow nod and try to stifle your noises as best you can, but you're unable to hold back a few weak whimpers. His fingers are already soaked, glistening with your slick when he drags them out, echoing a lewd, wet sound when he pushes them back in.

With a soft groan, he shoves his cock firmer against your ass; he can feel it throbbing, aching with need. You're so wet, and he knows if he were to sink his cock into you, it'd slide in so easy — The thought alone is enough to make him feel delirious.

Shit… You want me to go faster?

Aki fucks you with his fingers until your legs are starting to shake. Your walls are so tight around the digits, squeezing them each time he drags them out, sucking them in greedily when he presses them inside — God, you're so desperate for him. Aki wants to give you more, needs to give you more. You've been so good, you deserve it. You deserve to have him give you everything.

He hears your breath start to pick up, sharp and desperate. The pace of his fingers stays steady, controlled, Aki determined to make you cum. His lips press faintly to the shell of your ear.

That's it, keep going, just like this. You're doing so well.

A tight knot coils in your stomach, your edge coming closer, closer — Aki holds you tight, and he pulls his fingers out to briefly rub precise halos over your clit, his fingertips soaked with your slick. You're shaking, gasping, up on your tiptoes as your back arches into him.

I want you to cum for me. You think you can do that, pretty girl?

His words are all it takes to make you fall apart. Your whole body trembles, your moans growing louder and louder; His free hand quickly comes to cover your mouth, his palm muffling your noise. He coos, Shh, shh. That's it. Oh, baby…

You cum hard for him, your whole body trembling, and Aki shoves his fingers back inside; he fingers you through your orgasm, blood rushing to his cock when he feels the way your cunt pulses around the digits. He draws out as much pleasure from you as he possibly can, only slowing when he notices you beginning to come down, and only dragging his fingers out of you when he's sure you're completely spent.

As you catch your breath, your muscles relaxed, the exhilaration in your head starting to fade, Aki removes his palm from your mouth to hold you up, close to himself, your weight supported on his arm. "You alright?" He murmurs, and you offer him a quick nod and a slurred, Yes.

You still want me, don't you?

You laugh. Come on, is that even a question you have to ask?

You're right. With the way you're already shifting your hips to grind your ass on him, a desperate look in your eyes as he grabs your chin, tilting your head up and to the side so he can look at you — It's clear you're nowhere near close to satisfied, and there's no way in hell Aki's quitting now. Not until he's given you all he has, not until you've finally had enough.

With his hand holding your chin, Aki runs his thumb along your bottom lip, bringing his other hand in front of your face. His fingers are soaked, glistening in the low light, and he slowly spreads them apart, letting you see the way your slick and cum sticks between them. "Look at that. You made such a mess, you gonna clean it up?"

His thumb pulls down gently on your lip, and you take the hint, parting your mouth obediently. Aki presses his fingers in slowly, careful not to push you too far, so you won't gag. Your tongue swirls around the digits, licking them clean, tasting yourself.

And once again, just like all the times before, the praise he utters into your ear sends your heart fluttering: That's my girl. You think you can take my cock now?

As soon as he's pulled his fingers from your mouth, still wet from your saliva, Aki makes quick work of yanking down his boxers. He grabs your hips to drag you towards him, his cock sliding in between your thighs. He's so hard, fucking aching, precum dribbling out from the sensitive tip, and it's so wet, messy with the slick that coats your thighs, your cunt practically dripping out onto him.

Aki, please.

The way you say his name so sweetly, so perfectly — He wants to fuck you so badly he's starting to get dizzy, to hear you say it over and over again, to make you say his name. His, because he's the one you're so desperate to have, he's the one you're bent over in a dirty alleyway for. You belong to him and you know it.

So desperate for me. Be patient.

Without even thinking, you counter, stammering, "I'm… I'm not desperate."

"If you're not, then," Aki rubs circles into your skin with his thumbs, holding your hips tightly. He ruts forwards to a lazy rhythm, fucking into your plush thighs, the shaft warm and wet, throbbing incessantly, the friction delicious on his aching cock. "You're fine if I keep doing this?"

He could spend an eternity here, teasing you as much as you can take, making you beg for him again and again, his dick buried between your thighs. But he knows what you want, knows what you need. You need more.

You can hardly speak: "No, I… I'm…"

"C'mon. Spit it out." Aki demands, "If you want it, tell me."

You swallow down the lump in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribcage. Your words come out as barely more than a whisper.

Aki, fuck me.

Aki scoffs. Tsk. Try again. Ask properly.

God, he's fucking difficult, even up until the very end, but you'd be a liar if you said you didn't enjoy it. You'd be lying if you tried to claim you didn't love this: the way he forces you into obedience, time and time again.

I want… I want your cock. Hayakawa, sir.

You hear a quiet whine, a hitched breath, as Aki presses his cockhead to your entrance. His dick throbs hard, and his voice trembles ever so slightly.

Ask nicely. Say please for me.

Then, a deep sigh of relief when he eases inside, pushing past the initial tight ring of your cunt, stretching you out just barely, around the fat tip of his cock.

God, it feels so good — You want him to sink all the way in, to fill you up with the entire length of his cock, to feel him as deep inside as he can possibly get. Without a second thought, desperate pleas continuously fall from your lips: Please, please, please.

Aki sees the way your legs begin to buckle, his arms around your middle holding you up tighter, closer to himself. You're under him, with his body leant over yours, his large frame dwarfing your own — You feel overpowered, owned, and the feeling only seems to multiply when one of his arms snakes under you, his large hand carefully wrapping around your throat. He squeezes, not tight enough to hurt, but enough to make you melt, your head floaty and high, your nerves going numb.

In a tone that's deep, smooth, intense, Aki mutters into your ear, "That's a good girl."

Then, he rewards you, easing himself into you slowly, stretching you out around his fat cock. His knuckles tense, fingers tightening around your neck, his touch sending tingles throughout your head, your shoulders, your spine. Through heavy eyelids, his gaze flickers down; Aki watches, vision hazy and blurred at the edges as the shaft of his cock is buried deeper and deeper inside you. He's so wrapped up in the sight that he almost doesn't catch when you weakly mutter, More.

God, I'm gonna give you all of it.

And he does: he groans when he's sheathed himself all the way in, down to the hilt, gently rocking his hips, burying himself into you as much as he can manage. He's so deep; you can feel his cock in your stomach, all the way inside you, throbbing to a dull rhythm. His hips are shoved deft to your ass, his warm, bare, sweat-soaked skin pressed against yours.

Aki takes a moment to catch his breath. You take him perfectly, just as well as he imagined — No, even better. You feel so damn good around his cock, squeezing him tightly when he nestles in deeper, sucking him back in greedily when he tries to pull out. Perhaps if he knew from the start that you would feel this fucking amazing, he wouldn't have wasted so much time; he'd have you bent over for him from the minute you got here.

You feel his warm breath on your ear, his quiet voice, genuine and strained: You feel so, so good.

Starting up a gentle rhythm, Aki fucks into you with shallow thrusts, each movement careful and hesitant as he tries to give you a chance to get used to the feeling of him stretching you. He rests his weight on your back — You can feel his heartbeat drumming wildly in his chest, even through the layers of his shirt and suit jacket. If it wasn't for him holding you up, you're sure you would have fallen by now.

He gives your neck one more faint squeeze as he shoves his cock in, sending blood rushing to your head, before he drags his hand over to your stomach. With the heel of his palm, he presses down, adding more pressure, and you can't help but whine out his name.

"Aki," You manage, voice threatening to break at the end.

"You want more? Shit, you want me to fuck you harder, yeah?" Aki interrupts, saying exactly what was on your mind. "You gonna keep your voice down?"

In any other circumstance, or if Aki wasn't busy fucking your brains out, rendering coherent thoughts unable to form, maybe you would have considered yourself pathetic. Maybe you would have thought this, what's happening right now, was utterly embarrassing for you. Here you are, in a dirty back alley, with your superior's dick inside you, his hands all over you, and all you can think about is how badly you want more.

Your superior, fucking Hayakawa, who's a total ass, utterly insufferable, and here you are, begging like a little bitch for him to fuck you harder.

Without even considering whether or not you'll be able to fulfill his request, you're babbling, "Uh-huh, yessir, yessir."

Aki's lips graze over the shell of your ear. If you get too loud, I'm going to stop. Show me how well you can take it.

Whispered, slurred, you mutter a promise to him: I will.

After that, once he hears you say those few words, Aki stops trying to hold himself back.

His hands grip your bare sides, his fingers trembling, his palms warm. He starts fucking you like he really means it, burying his cock in over and over. The buckle of his belt jingles, still hanging loosely in the loops of his slacks, and the soft sound of skin hitting skin — his hips hitting your ass — begins to bounce off the enclosed walls of the alley. You can hear him in your ear: his gasps for air, hushed curses, little moans of ecstacy that he's unable to hold back, and you're practically biting on your tongue to shut yourself up.

Aki fucks you like he needs you, like he needs this, like he's needed someone to fuck like this for far, far too long. It's like he's taking out his frustrations on you, all of his resentment, and all of that pent up desperation he's had for so long now, everything building and building until it explodes — Until he fucks you like he's unable to quit.

One of his hands presses to the back of your head, shoving your face into the wall, the brick rough on your cheek. The other glides over your bare ass, where he grabs and squeezes, and when you promptly whimper, he's not sure what overtakes him, but he gives your ass a firm slap — Immediately soothing the sting by caressing your skin with his palm.

Fuck, I can't- You're squeezing my cock so much.

Your hands tighten, grabbing uselessly at the wall, fingertips scraping the surface. Aki suddenly grabs your chin, roughly jerking your head upwards, and you hear him mumble something that sounds like, Open.

You take the hint, opening your mouth wide, and while he's still fucking you, rutting his hips to a desperate fervor, Aki messily spits — The glob drips from his tongue, a string of drool, a total mess of his saliva. When it falls to your mouth, you gulp, and Aki groans, his dick throbbing at the sight, at the way you eagerly swallow down his spit.

He leans back, then, spitting another messy glob of saliva — It drips down your ass, all the way to the shaft of his dick, getting it slicker, wetter when he shoves it back inside and God, it's so damn wet, so soaked, so easy for him to fuck himself into you.

You're both getting louder, despite your attempts to keep quiet, and Aki hastily brings his hand to your mouth, covering it firmly with his palm. He leans in, his voice low and strict when he scolds, "I told you to be quiet. Do you want someone to hear us, or what?"

… Actually, he knows he shouldn't get excited by that thought — He knows he shouldn't feel his dick get harder, his breath come out quicker, and his heart hammer faster when he imagines someone walking down this alley and seeing him fucking you senseless, but he just can't help it. He can't help but feel like he wants someone to see, to know just how desperate and needy you are for him.

But, even if he enjoys the idea, he's still a man of his word, and when you're acting disobediently, something needs to be done.

So, Aki begins to slow his pace. His thrusts are deep, but restrained, agonizingly teasing as he drags his cock out lazily, feeling the way your walls tighten, gripping the shaft. You mumble something incoherent into his palm; perhaps a protest, or possibly a plea for more.

Nevertheless, Aki ignores it, and asks, "Can you hear that?"

You promptly shake your head. Honestly, it's hard for you to even hear anything. His voice sounds like it's been plunged underwater, your head fuzzy with clouds and fluff, your brain practically unable to think. All you're focused on is the intense pleasure you're feeling: warmth that spreads across your entire body, pooling in your gut, causing your legs to shake and your toes to curl. You try your best to pay attention, and you don't notice it at first, but then —

When he thrusts in again, that's when you hear it — A disgustingly wet noise, so loud, the echo seeming to fill the entire alley.

Heat rises in your cheeks, and a low chuckle falls from Aki's mouth. "So fucking wet…" He taunts, "You're still so loud. God, what am I going to do with you?"

Aki keeps his palm deft to your mouth as he begins rutting into you harder again, burying his face into your neck to stifle his noise. He fucks you faster, harder, putting his full weight into every thrust. His pace grows ragged as he chases his own pleasure, his hand shifting, his thumb pressing to your lips, urging you to part them. And when you do, he's shoving his thumb into your mouth, pressing it to your tongue, mumbling the command: Suck on it.

You do as you're told, lips closing around his thumb as you suck gently, your moans muffled, quiet. Aki feels himself start to lose control, his edge growing closer.

He groans, "Shit, I can't- I'm close-" He thinks he can hold out, but when you start whimpering around his finger, shifting your weight on your heels to press your ass into him, urging him to fuck you even deeper, he's pressing his lips to your throat, muttering into your skin, "You want my cum?"

"Yeah, yeah, I want it-"

"F-Fuck… You gonna ask for it nicely?"

Aki thinks, Of course you are.

"Uh-huh," You're stammering, nodding your head feverishly, Aki fucking you to a desperate pace, "Please, I want your cum, Hayakawa, sir, please."

Hayakawa, sir. God.

Aki yanks your dress shirt up to your chest as he pulls out, and he wraps his hand around his cock, jerking it with a tight grip. The tension snaps, and Aki gasps — His cum shoots from his cock, ropes of sticky white covering your back, your ass, dripping down to your thighs, getting you utterly filthy. He lets his cock lay over your ass, squeezing the sensitive tip of his cockhead, making sure everything he has to give you drips out onto your skin.

"H-hah, shit," Aki mumbles, his voice hoarse, breathless, "So messy… Such a good girl. Such a good girl for me."

He comes down slowly, catching his breath, his arm coming to wrap around your stomach when he sees you starting to slip. With a shudder he can feel across his entire body, Aki drags his half-hard cock over your ass, over his cum, and although he's trying to calm down, when he looks at you like this, as you eagerly grind your ass up against him, he just can't.

He's swiftly filled with the imperative to fuck you again, to get more, because he isn't done. There's more he can give to you, more he can take.

Still, the prickle of nervousness welling in his chest causes him to turn and look towards the entrance of the alley. There's more people than ever. He can see their small, shadowy forms as they walk past. If any of them walk just a little bit closer, then…

For a very brief moment, Aki considers stopping. He contemplates whether or not he should ask you if this is too much, if you two should get out of here like he initially suggested. But, all of those hesitations are cast away, all of his nervousness is replaced by a wave of desire the moment he hears you speak.

You beg, "Aki, please. I want more, want you to make me cum- Please, can you?"

It's risky, and only getting riskier. But when you ask him like that, when you beg for him to make you cum, how is he supposed to resist you? You always win in the end.

So, Aki slurs, "Okay, okay, yeah." He places his hands gently on your waist, instructing, "Turn around for me, baby."

As you shakily stand to your feet, he holds you up by your waist so you won't fall. Then, he guides you to twist until your back is pressed to the wall, your weight leant on it, and your arms around his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

Aki reaches up, grasping the diamond of his tie, carefully loosening it until it hangs undone around his collar. You clasp your hands around his neck, and he pops the buttons on his suit jacket next, taking it off and tossing it to the ground — It's filthy already, anyway — leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt.

He hikes his sleeves up to his forearms, exposing his biceps, skin covered in scars from various contracts, and you're reaching down to jerk him as he does it, your palm around his cock quickly getting him hard again.

Aki's eyes meet yours. Gently, he places his arms under your ass, lifting you up until you can wrap your legs around his waist. The metal of his earrings glint in the dim light, the tips of his ears a faint shade of pink.

He looks so different from what you're used to, from the way he normally looks: so serious and poker-faced. Right now, his gaze is deep, filled with longing, his pupils blown wide. His messy bangs stick to his forehead from sweat, his eyelashes flutter, and his cheeks are flushed a light tinge of pink, warm to the touch when you cup his face in your free hand.

He's pretty like this, you think. He's pretty when his bangs frame his face, when his hair is loose and unkempt, close to falling out of his topknot. He's pretty with his soft lips parted, when he's only in his dress shirt, with his slacks pooling at his ankles, when he's so goddamn needy for you. His voice sounds pretty and deep when he slurs a quick, You ready? And when you nod, he's easing back into you — The expression on his face then is the prettiest.

It's warm, wet, tight, especially from this angle. Aki's breath hitches the second he's pressed in, and as his cock slowly fills you, the pleasure starting to build up again, he clumsily grabs your chin, pulling you in until your lips come crashing onto his.

He moans into your mouth as he kisses you, his tongue swirling around yours, your hands fisted in his collar to drag him in even closer. He buries his cock in deeper, all the way, and it's so much, too much — His dick is so sensitive he can hardly stand it, and it's so damn messy when he thrusts in, the shaft smeared with his cum, your pussy dripping with your own arousal. He pulls his lips away from yours to gasp for breath, starting to fuck you to a steady rhythm, as best he can handle.

His head is cloudy, all his limbs feel light, and when he buries himself in the tight warmth of your cunt, he finds himself drowning in the feeling. You feel so good, so amazing — You're so warm, so close, and there's so much pleasure. So much, so much, so much, and, God, he's going to lose his fucking mind.

Your hand holds the back of his head, fingers threading through his soft hair. When he suddenly thrusts into you hard, you whimper, gripping close to the scalp, sending tingles down his neck and over his shoulders. Aki presses feverish kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your nose, and when he pulls back, his forehead falls to press against yours. His words are mumbled softly from his throat, barely more than a whisper.

You take me so well, you know that?

He's forehead to forehead with you then, his topknot coming looser and looser as your hands tug at his hair with every rough thrust. Aki can feel sweat dripping from his brow, can hear the wet squelch of his cock fucking into your soaked cunt.

You want me to fuck you harder, baby? Tell me what you want, I wanna make you cum.

You nod and babble without a second thought, Yeah, Aki, please.

Aki gasps — Oh my God… — His pace growing faster, less contained. It's hard for him to breathe, even harder for him to think, but the way you say his name is so amazing, so perfect, all he knows is that he needs to hear you say it again. He doesn't care who hears anymore, he doesn't care that you're both getting louder and louder, your moans turning into screams. All he cares about is you, you, you.

Aki grips your waist tighter, tight enough you're sure his grip will bruise. He commands breathlessly, "Want you to say my name again. Tell me who's fucking you so good right now."

His voice is all it takes to have you oblige: You chant his name, over and over again, tell him, You are, you are, Aki. Each time it falls from your lips, his heart skips a beat, his dick throbs and holy shit — He needs to give you his cum, he needs to finish with you, more than he thinks he's needed anything in this goddamn world.

With each thrust in, he's hitting that perfect sweet spot deep in your core, pushing you to the edge. You feel it coming, your breath starting to quicken, your muscles starting to tense, the pleasure boiling and boiling and —

"Aki!" You cry out his name, your eyes screwing shut, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum…"

"Yeah, h-hah, I'm close too," Aki presses a quick, faint kiss to your forehead, his lips soft, his touch tender. Your high approaches with a rush of adrenaline and waves of pleasure, and just before you fall to pieces, just as you're reaching your peak, Aki's deep and smooth voice mutters instructions that push you right over the edge.

Cum for me. Get my dick nice and wet, pretty girl.

You're falling apart for him then, your whole body tensing, your hands clamoring at his back, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt, your cunt throbbing around his dick; you bury your head in his shoulder to stifle your noise, but Aki can still hear your moans, your wobbly chants of his name. Aki, Aki, Aki — Over and over again, so fucking desperate, so pretty, and all for him.

Aki presses a firm hand to the back of your head, holding you there, close to himself. He fucks you clumsily, his hips beginning to stutter, and when he feels you cum on him, squeezing like a vice around his cock, he can't hold himself back from riding the same high.

He shoves himself in deep, fucking you shallowly through his orgasm, his cock spilling inside, filling you with the last of his cum. He gasps out your name as he finishes, incoherent strings of curses and gasps alongside it — Fuck, fuck, feels so- Oh God, babygirl… — his voice high-pitched, strained. His vision goes white, his hands tremble as he holds onto your sides, and his whole body shudders before his muscles relax.

Time appears frozen in place for a few short moments. You begin to catch your breath, your heart rate slowing down, the high you were feeling starting to fade. Once exhaustion hits your limbs, your body slumps, and Aki holds you up, muttering quietly into your ear, "I've got you."

His breath feels warm on your cheek as he exhales shallow gasps. Your eyelids feel heavy, sleepy, the warmth of his body held close to yours just amplifying the feeling. Aki whispers, "You okay?" And when you nod your head, he softly instructs, "Here. I'm gonna set you down. Put your arms around me."

You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders, and very carefully, Aki puts you down, making sure you've regained your stability before he fully lets go.

Everything starts to become clearer as Aki helps you get dressed, one of his hands kept on your waist to steady you. He pulls up your pants, buttons them, tucks your shirt in so it looks orderly. He brushes messy strands of hair from your face, his fingertips brushing over the marks on your skin, over your neck — Undeniable proof that he was there, that this was real. Even now, he still finds it hard to believe.

Perhaps he should be angry with you, perhaps he should scold you for what happened. But… Honestly, after taking out his stresses on you, he feels too calm to make a big deal out of it.

He fixes himself next: he pulls up his slacks and re-clasps his belt buckle. He bends down to snatch his suit jacket from the ground, pulling it back over his shoulders and buttoning it up. He grasps his tie, straightening it, pulling to make it tight.

His gaze meets yours as he's reaching up into his hair, grasping the loose hair tie to pull it out, dark, messy locks falling around his face. "You're not talking," He says, crooking an eyebrow, "You must be tired."

You groggily reply, "Mhmm… I am. Really tired." You pause, nearly losing your train of thought when you look at him, admiring the way he looks with his hair down, so pretty — But once you find it again, you ask, "Do you think anyone saw us?"

Aki takes a quick glance at the entrance to the alley. The traffic seems to have cleared, with much less people walking by than before. Nothing seems suspicious, nothing seems out of the ordinary, and when he looks towards the other side of the alleyway, he concludes that the two of you are still very much alone.

He shakes his head and replies, "No, no. I don't think so."

Although your brain still feels hazy and muddled, and your body feels weak and weary, you've begun to come to your senses. The reality of the situation, of what happened, hits you all at once, and as if he can read your mind, Aki tells you, "We don't have to talk about any of this, if you don't want to."

With his hair tie around his wrist, he grabs his hair, tying it up neatly into his signature topknot, nice and tight. He shoves his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket once he's done.

"No, it's fine, it's…" You avert your eyes for a moment, trying to think, "It's okay. To talk about it, I mean. I don't regret anything."

Aki hums, "That's good to know."

He finds his cigarettes, pulling one out and sticking it between his teeth. Then, his lighter, and he tilts his head away from you to strike the wheel, a small flame bringing his cigarette to life.

To break the silence, you ask him, "You gonna make me go back to work now?"

Aki shrugs his shoulders. "C'mon," He replies, putting his lighter back in his pocket, smoke wisping up from the end of his cig, "I'm not that mean. You live around here? I'll walk you home, I'll tell Makima you got sick or something."

"No, I don't. They had me staying at Public Safety for now."

Aki takes a long drag in from his cigarette. The nicotine soothes his lungs, relaxing his body and his mind. He feels calmer, more composed, his worries melting away. Perhaps that's why, after he's exhaled the smoke from his lungs, when he opens his mouth next, he's saying to you, "I'll take you back to my place, then."

"What?" You exclaim, "No way, that's not necessary."

"I won't be there, I still have work I need to get done today. I'll give you my keys, you can leave whenever you're ready. Or stay until I get back, it's up to you."

"But-" You're about to protest, but instead, you sigh in defeat. "Alright, fine. You missed a spot, by the way."

"Huh?"

You grab his shirt collar, still smeared with a bright red lipstick stain, and tuck it into his jacket. In the dim light, it's difficult to tell, but you swear you can see the slightest tinge of pink dawn on Aki's cheeks. He says nonchalantly, "Oh, thanks."

Tapping his cigarette with his finger to scatter the ash, Aki brings his free hand to your waist, holding it hesitantly, his eyes scanning your face as if he's waiting for some kind of objection. When there is none, he brings his cigarette back to his lips, taking another drag before abruptly asking, "Did Makima assign you a buddy yet?"

"...What's that?"

"Everyone at Public Safety has a partner for going on patrols and such. It's safer that way, to work in pairs," Aki explains, "You should be mine."

"Huh? Really?" You huff a dry laugh and lean back further against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're joking, right?"

"Nope." When he answers, his voice sounds stern and serious as ever, true to his words. "My last buddy quit, so now I don't have one."

"That's not what I meant. I mean like… Why would you ask me? I thought you hated my guts." You scoff, "You really wanna be buddies with a devil?"

Aki eyes you up and down, his expression poker-faced. "Considering what I just did with said devil, I don't think it's so crazy." He tilts his head upwards, exhaling smoke into the afternoon sky. "I'll take back my proposal if you're not interested."

"No, I'm…" You blurt out, looking away sheepishly, "I'm interested."

"Good. I'll give the paperwork to Miss Makima. You'll have to sign some things tomorrow."

As seconds bleed into minutes, puffy white clouds passing idly in the sky, Aki finishes his cigarette, dropping it to the ground and stamping it out with the heel of his shoe. He takes a step back from you, looking down, checking to make sure he looks in order.

There's still one more thing lingering in your mind, and so, you ask him, "Hey, Aki."

Aki looks up, "Yeah?"

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

Aki chuckles. He reaches down, grabbing his sword sheath from off the floor. "Yeah, I do. I thought so when I first saw you."

You huff, "Wish you'd have just admitted to that from the start."

"Well," Aki stands up straight, tossing the strap of his sheath over his shoulder. A soft, ever-so slight smile forms on his face. "If I had done that, we wouldn't have had as much fun, now would we?"

He rustles around in his pockets, finding his keys. The keyring jingles when he places them in your open hands. You examine them: there's a couple of silver keys, a metal tag with his last name, and a small label of a three digit number. His apartment number, you assume.

"So…" You start, looking up at him, "I guess this means we'll be working together from now on, yeah? You better not argue with me the whole time. I'd like to do my job in peace, you know."

Aki smiles a little bit wider. "Don't worry. I think we'll get along just fine."

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The endless lull of the clock on the wall would be enough to make Aki fall asleep, if he wasn't busy finishing up paperwork.

He sighs, learning back further in his office chair, rubbing some of the tiredness from his eyes with his hands. Even though he rushed to the Public Safety building the second he was finished with his assignments, it still feels like he's been here forever. Thankfully, he's nearly done filling out papers. Soon, he'll be able to head home.

As he stares absentmindedly at the ceiling, counting each speckle of popcorn in the drywall, he wonders if you're still at his place, or if you've left already. He told you to make yourself at home, so perhaps you're still there, watching late-night television. Maybe you raided his fridge and ate all his leftovers.

A small part of him hopes you'll be there when he arrives, greeting him at the door as he walks in. Or maybe curled up asleep on the couch, because you couldn't stay awake any longer. He definitely wouldn't blame you.

A gentle knock at the door stirs him from his thoughts. Aki sits up straight, and a voice from behind it quietly asks, "Can I come in?"

"Yes." Aki answers, and he swivels his chair towards the door just as it opens. A woman with long, braided red hair steps in, and she greets him with a soft smile and a wave.

"How was today?" Makima asks, closing the door, then crossing her arms behind her back. "What do you think of our new recruit? Did you two get along?"

"They're…" Aki narrows his eyes. He taps the tip of his pen idly against the desk. "...Interesting."

"Do you think they'll be useful?"

Aki scoffs, "They like to mess around more than they like to work, but it's nothing we can't whip back into shape, so, yes. I would say so."

"Hm, alright," Makima places a hand to her chin, cocking her head slightly. "I saw the paperwork you left on my desk. You made a request to change your buddy, didn't you?"

"Oh, yes ma'am. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I'm just surprised is all. I thought for sure you two would end up hating each other. I suppose I was wrong."

Aki stays silent for a moment. Yeah, that's what he thought too, wasn't it? When this day started, all he could do was count down the minutes until it was over in his head, until he wouldn't have to deal with you anymore. But now, he can't even focus on his paperwork because he's too busy thinking about you, too busy wondering when he'll get to see you again.

Damn, when did he get so obsessed? Was it by your doing, or was it his?

He doesn't know, so he just shakes his head and replies, "I thought so too. But I guess… I don't."

Makima eyes him up and down for a moment. "Well, as long as you fill out all the necessary paperwork, and make sure you get our new recruit to fill it out as well, I can approve your request."

Aki nods. "Okay, thank you."

Makima turns to leave. Aki turns back to his paperwork. The clock continues to tick, and his pen scratches the desk as he checks a box, then messily signs his name in cursive. The door opens with a creak, Makima takes one step out, but then she abruptly turns around.

"Oh, and Hayakawa?"

Aki looks up. "Yeah?"

"The next time I have you two patrol together, make sure you actually get some work done. I'm enlisting you two to hunt devils, not fuck on the job."

And with that, Makima steps out of the office, leaving Aki to stare wide-eyed and red-faced at the door as it swings shut.

credit to @cyancherub 's fic gunsmoke in mirrors for inspiration

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

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lostyesterday · 6 months

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I’ve been thinking about disabled protagonists in Star Trek recently, which got me thinking about Seven of Nine. It’s interesting because I’m almost certain the writers of Voyager did not intend to write a disabled character, but they ended up accidentally writing one anyway, and one whose arc I find surprisingly compelling as a disabled person myself. Seven is dependent on electronic devices both inside her body and external to it in order to survive and she requires regular medical treatment and specialized adaptations to her environment in order to function. She is absolutely canonically disabled (as are all the other ex-Borg in Star Trek), even if the writers probably weren’t aware of that. The major reason that I think Seven’s arc resonates with me so much is because it reflects a deep tension between independence and dependence that is a fundamental and complex part of so many disabled people’s lives.

To be disabled is to be deeply aware at all times of your own dependence on external things (such as wheelchairs, canes, medications, etc.) and other people. At the same time, to be disabled is to also be deeply aware of the societal standards of independence and self-sufficiency you are constantly failing to live up to. You cannot do things that people are “supposed” to be able to do independently. You need help for basic tasks, and you have no choice but to trust that these external supports you are dependent on will not suddenly disappear, causing you to be unable to participate in society at all. It’s difficult to express to someone who hasn’t experienced it how much being disabled forces someone to consider their own level of dependence and independence constantly, how it becomes a deep part of one’s identity and can often be a source of trauma.

Seven’s arc on Voyager is often focused on the nature of individuality, but it is interesting how often “individuality” becomes a stand-in for independence. Seven’s disability makes her deeply dependent on the crew and resources of Voyager for survival. She could theoretically leave and use her own skills to do maintenance on her implants and install an alcove somewhere to keep herself functioning, but it would be a great risk, and her safety would be constantly in doubt. At the same time, Seven hates this dependence. She tries to rely on other people as little as possible, hating her need for the Doctor to diagnose issues with her implants and refusing to ask for help until she has no other choice. She hates this dependence because she sees it as challenging her ability to become a complete “individual” who is able to make her own autonomous choices. She hates this dependence because it forces her to rely on other people who could at any time abandon her or abuse their power over her.

So it’s far less frightening to pretend this dependence doesn’t exist, to hide it even from herself. Seven’s arrogance in her own abilities, her focus on her intellect and vast knowledge and superior physical abilities are in many ways genuine, especially early on. But at what point does this confidence in her own abilities – this reassurance that she is smart enough and strong enough to control her own destiny and be a true individual – become a coping mechanism to deal with the reality of her dependence on objects and people outside of her direct control?

Seven is told often by members of the Voyager crew that being an individual who makes her own choices and decisions is what she should strive for. And at the same time, those same people often exert control over her, attempting to restrict her autonomy. Janeway or the Doctor tell her that they know better than her what her needs are – that being an individual only goes so far. Seven’s anger at this contradiction is one of my favorite parts of her character, partially because it captures a similar feeling of anger deep inside me when I think about the ways society constantly pressures disabled people to maintain standards of independence impossible to live up to while at the same time deeply restricting our autonomy and freedom.

In the episode “Imperfection”, Seven says that what she wants most is to be useful. To be useful is to be a valuable part of society – someone who is self-sufficient and talented and certainly not deeply dependent on other people for basic survival. To be disabled is to have society constantly demand that you be useful, that you be independent and strong and never let your disabilities limit you. And at the same time, to be disabled is to discover over and over that you can never be that fully autonomous, fully functional human being seen as ideal in society. No matter what you do – no matter how far you run from the truth – it’s an impossible reality to escape.

#star trek voy #seven of nine #once i start talking about disability in star trek i cannot stop #i genuinely would love to hear other people's thoughts on this #lane posts

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safe-by-dawn · 10 months

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~Obsessive Lover~

Ticci Toby Ver./ Kinks, Fetishes, and other Head-canons

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A/N: Starting a small series to kick off the blog. Currently taking requests, so drop a name and I'll tell you what kind of lover I think they are.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NSFW under the cut! MDNI!

Toby is definitely an undercover pervert, and you'd never know the amount of times he sneaks a peek at you any chance he gets. He adores stalking any social media you have, saving your pictures to any device he can get his hands on even before you make anything official with him. Loves taking pictures of you when you're not paying any attention for material for later.

Sneaks into your room and steals anything that smells like you. At first it threw you off, but being the sick individual that you are, it started to intrigue you when some of your things wound up missing and for awhile you couldn't figure out why some of your favorite underwear wound up missing.

That is until you finally got with Toby for the first time and found a pair under his pillow.

This man loves to stare.

Even before you started your relationship with him.

You bend to get something and his eyes are glued onto your ass until you raise back up. You notice that he does it after some time, even going as far as wearing low-cut shirt and leaning into him just to get his eyes on you and watch the way he drinks you in.

It's intoxicating, you can feel his eyes burning through you anytime you're in the same room together, it's one of the things that drew you to him in the first place.

He's a very touchy lover, despite probably not being a big fan of touch from anybody else, but he just can't get enough. Expect to be groped and have his hands on you at any point in time.

He was taken in as a proxy super young, so the sheer pent up sexual aggression he has is unmatched after not having a chance in his youth with other women. You'd never know that until you got in the sheets with him though.

He adores the way your face turns a pretty red when he wraps his hands around your throat mid-fuck.

Toby has no knowledge of pain and sometimes can't gauge it on someone else so he definitely needs someone that can handle a beating in bed. You'll be left with bruising and scratches for weeks.

Loves biting and nibbling on you to hear any sound that comes from you due to it. It just drives him on until you're a bruised up mess under him.

A sadistic lover as well, loves watching you cry from it all being too much. Too much pain as well as too much pleasure at the same time can be a combo that absolutely tears you apart but he just knows if you didn't like it you wouldn't keep coming back to him for more.

The more confident he gets the less his stutter comes out, You can't convince me otherwise. It was very prominent early on in your relationship, lacing its way into almost every sentence, but as he gets more comfortable and knowing that you're not there as some sick joke, it still comes but he can form his sentences a little better.

Which also means that when his ego spikes from having you as a writhing mess under him, his mouth is absolutely dripping with seductive tease. It's like a switch flips inside of him, throwing you for a loop when he whispers the most vile things into your ear while he's balls deep.

Loves to call you his, going as far to whisper "Mine" in your ear when in close proximity to him. Calls you some of the best pet names around every one around you because he wants everyone to know what's his.

Loves when you show the bruises he gave you, prefers when you don't try to cover them up. Going as far as trying to wipe off the concealer on your throat that covers up the most recent one that he gave you when you do attempt to cover them up.

And if anyone else so much as thinks to lay a hand on you, he already has their hand in a vice grip, and then he fucks you later to solidify that you belong to him.

Toby is possessive as hell, and once you're finally his you're not getting out of it alive.

#ticci toby #toby rogers #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta smut #headcanons #ticci toby x reader smut #Lovers series #toby rogers x reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta

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