Peach

your first day in central command, donning the blue shoulder mark with gold insignia, you walked alone into the hallways. you were placed under mustang for care, just to be safe, to guide you along the idiosyncrasies of this outrageous position. “what’s your schtick?” he asked you on your first day.

“my schtick?”

“you know. what makes you special? what’s your research on?” 

“oh,” you chuckled nervously. “well it’s a little bit of everything.”

he offered you a cup of tea. you refused. “c’mon. don’t be shy. tell me.”

“no i’m— i specialise in imitating people’s power. like, your flame alchemy, or tucker’s chimeras.” you crossed your legs in your chair. “it’s really a little bit of everything.”

“couldn’t find something you liked so you came after all of us, huh?” he laughed, pouring his own cup of tea. 

“it’s still very… in the works,” you giggled. “i’m gonna need some help.”

“i got your back,” he promised, soft and gentle. almost genuine.

roy mustang was a charmer. you’d heard of him way before your alchemist exam, along the grapevine twisting through the streets of amestris. manipulative, sure. lazy, of course. you watched him then, kicking his feet up on his oak desk, not even minding the paperwork spread across the surface. “tell me about yourself.”

“i started practising alchemy with my fath—”

“about yourself, not your alchemy.” 

you were taken aback for a second, the sour taste of surprise on the tip of your tongue. “not—” you stopped short. when has anyone ever asked you about anything but your alchemy? “i’m from rush valley.”

“really?” he cracked a small grin. “i’ve never been. tell me about it.”

and so you did, telling him about the town’s centre that saw the rise of a lot of shops, unique cuisine. the rocky cliffs that loom over the land, and how you’d lived just a little out of the way, out of the city centre. “and coming to central city, it’s been…”

“weird?” mustang finished for you. “loud? busy?”

“all of those things,” you breathed, but still searching for the right word to grace your tongue. “but also, promising.”

the ishvalan civil war was easy on nobody. king bradley’s order #3066 had state alchemists doled out like weapons on the front line of ishval. you never wanted to; no one did. but it was an ultimatum; work for the fürher and steal millions of innocent lives, or lose your own. (you would have picked the latter. you should have.)

“you can’t say no,” roy told you, hands met in an uneasy camaraderie in front of him, placed squarely on his large oak table. “i’m sorry, major.”

“you call me major like you aren’t in the same rank,” you laughed, trying to ease the tension between the two of you. the knowledge, the impending judgement of the two of you hung like a stench between you, pregnant with silence, thick with nervousness. it clogged up your throat and stings your nose, and you could tell by the waver in roy’s voice that he felt the same. 

“you are still my subordinate.” he chuckled, leaning back slightly. you both wondered in what world you’ll ever be able to relax again. 

the clock ticked, seconds falling away. you’d been in this room, his office so much that you started to see parts of you in it; an extra cloak you’d left on your last visit, your favourite pen in his mug-turned-pen-holder, little sticky notes you’d left him, asking can i have my pen back? and please give me back my pen. and STOP STEALING MY PENS.

“will you be okay?” he asked, his voice softer now. like he was treading on water, on eggshells to see how you would respond. you look at him, curious black meeting your gaze, and you have to smile. have to brave through your own inhibition. because you rely on each other, you and roy. it was silly, it was naive to think that he thought of you as any more than a pesky colleague, a friend to waste time with. but sitting here, in the thick of your arriving judgement, divine intervention, you couldn’t help but want to lean over. plant a kiss on the bridge of his nose, tell him, i’ll be okay. we’ll be okay.

but you couldn’t. because roy mustang is roy mustang, serial flirt and untouchable. he was regal and elegant and everything anyone could wish to be. but beyond all of that he was your friend—your superior, someone who put his life on the line for you and his friends time and time again. you had a debt to him you could never repay, and admitting your feelings would only worsen the burden of it. so you sat where you were, and watched the crease in his brow deepen. watched him from afar as you always had.

“we’ll be fine, roy.” you assured him.

“we’ll be fine,” he agreed. “but they won’t.”

the morning of the extermination came, and you stood, surrounded by ash and debris and the echoes of screaming children. you could barely recognise the town anymore, bloodshed and tears twisting through the veins of the place. the ground beneath you shakes, and you couldn’t let yourself look at the destruction you were contributing to. the pleas, the looks on their faces before you knocked them to dust.

somewhere behind you, roy was thinking the exact same thing. one meticulated snap after another. a power promised to serve and protect, exploited to kill and conquer.

you ended the war. the state alchemists ended the war. but at what cost?

“the hero of ishval,” roy gnashed his teeth together, the two gilded stars added to his shoulder marks glinting in the reflection of the fluorescent light. “that’s what they’re calling me.”

his skill and notoriety earned him that title. his dedication to his service, his passion to go above and beyond for his state. but you watched him crumble to dust when you returned to amestris. watched him cry. the hero of ishval, reduced to a little boy who just wanted to be told good job. 

“i know,” you whispered, soft and delicate against his skin. 

“i killed those people,” he continued. “and they’re calling me a hero.” 

fucked up, wasn’t it? amestris’ best soldiers, choking back tears as they were awarded for their valiant efforts, for their skill and magnitude. for causing irreparable damage to a town that never meant harm. for killing innocent lives. for being a part of a system that exploited their men and women, using them as weapons when they had promised to protect. 

you held roy and he held you. for a few hours you sat like that, a fragile man refusing to cry, and you, trying to hold it up for him to rely on you. but the moment he reached up to you, lips next to your ear, and whispered, “you’re allowed to cry, major.”, you felt the unfamiliar pinprick of tears welling up behind your eyelids, the sting in your nose. 

“i didn’t want to do that,” you whimpered. “i didn’t want to—”

“i know, i know,” he hushed you softly, rubbing your back. your mind subconsciously drifted to the locked latch on his office door, for fear anyone would come in and witness a primitive moment between two friends, trauma-ridden and guilt-stricken, holding one another like the world burnt down around them. and perhaps it did. the world you’d once known. 

because the ishvalan civil war changed people. the ishvalan civil war changed you.

you tried to leave, tried to resign from service but they didn’t let you. 

“you’re too valuable to us as an alchemist, major,” general grand had set his foot down. “unfortunately, we cannot accept your resignation.”

you clenched your fist, your jaw locking. “yes, sir.” you grunted through your teeth, eyeing mustang who, lingering by the doorway, avoided your gaze. it was not said, but you can hear it in grand’s smile. 

run away, and we will find you. 

 and so it was settled; you would kill yourself to run away.

the plan is simple. set it on fire, and die.

of course, you don’t actually die. you leave your badge and uniform and shoulder marks there next to a mutilated, burnt corpse surrounded by raging fire, and you escape. you run from amestris, from the burden of knowing you killed innocent people.

you’d watched mustang’s fire alchemy enough to understand the mechanics of it. you knew that riza’s tattoo held the secrets to her father’s research, and mustang had, at her insistence, scorched sections of it off after he mastered it, but you’d seen enough that you could replicate it with fine little flaws that would go unnoticed to the naked eye. 

and so you’ll use that. throwing mustang under the bus wasn’t your intention. you didn’t mean for him to be your scapegoat, but seeing how much time you’ve spent with him, his alchemy is the one you know best. that you could replicate without major implications or fuck ups. and so you will, because you have nothing left to lose. 

the alleyway is narrow, dim-lit by the glowing orange fluorescent of the streetlamp that looms over you. little puddles of water ripple along the surface as you splash through them, the sair stuffy and damp. you have to get to the central library; you’d been there many times previously, roaming hallways and narrow aisles, picking up documents for your superiors, doing research for your yearly report. the place, while still well-secured and protected, is still the least patrolled of the central government buildings. 

you slip your hood up over your head, pulling your mask up. you give yourself one more chance to back out, to step away and go home. what are you doing? all this, all the trouble you’d been through over the years, all the friends you’d made, the work you put it; are you finally ready to throw it all away? 

yes. you are.

you pad softly towards the back of the library, the shrubbery and dark green shadows hide the cans of kerosene that you’d left here in preparation. you pull on your gloves— a makeshift version of mustang’s— and pick up one of the cans. you had no doubts in the nature of your alchemy; you knew you could start a fire. but the precision, the power, the strength to keep it going as long as needed, that was a skill that only mustang had mastered. 

it drools from the spout along the little pasture at the back of the building, and you’re careful to follow the plan you’d drawn out in your head, memorising the schedules, the paths of the patrolling officers. stepping cautiously as you come up to one of the half open windows you had left open in a room that went mostly unused, setting the can down before hoisting your legs over the sill, sliding inside. 

you reach over, grabbing the can and pulling it up into your embrace. you huff a small breath, slow and hesitant, looking up at the rows and rows of bookshelves that line the walls. 

just this room, you think. whatever is in here, people could miss it. hopefully the guards patrolling the library would find the room before the fire spreads too much, and by then, you’d be long gone. the stench of kerosene has stained your hands, but you pay it no mind as you begin to soak the old wooden bookshelves in pale yellow. you should, in theory, have time— the patrolling officer on duty should still be on the other side of the building. 

when you’re done, you’re out of breath. the kerosene fumes are getting to you; you need out, and out quickly. you let the can clatter to the floor, testing out your flame alchemy on your right hand. the can hits the floor with a loud thud, and you shrug it off. no one should be near enough to hear, you think. right?

god hates you. god is watching and praying on your downfall, because at that very moment you hear approaching footsteps and you freeze in your tracks. “is there someone in here?” comes a muffled voice through the door, low, commanding, familiar. 

the smell of the kerosene has to be obvious, wafting through the bottom of the door. you need to go; now. but the voice comes again, “hello?” and a shiver trickles down your spine.

it’s roy.

what the fuck is he doing here? you know state alchemists are sometimes called in to fill in for patrollers who call in sick or are posted elsewhere, a little placeholder before they find a new regular. but you didn’t know— you thought they only asked majors, nothing above the lowest rank of alchemy. here you are, staging the scene for your fake suicide and here comes your superior, the only man you’ve trusted in your life, ruining months of planning, weeks of preparation. 

go away. go away.

“i know there’s someone in here.”

go away. please, go away.

“the fuck— is that…”

the handle of the door jiggles, and you think. stay, explain and risk him selling you out to the central command, and spending the rest of your sorry life in central prison? or leave now, leave the kerosene and the soaked bookshelves to be found and your meticulous planning, obtaining and memorising routines and schedule, all for naught? when would you have another chance like this? 

as quiet as you can, you snap your fingers together. just a small flame would do, anything to just get the fire started. but your trembling hands fail you, the leather of the gloves slipping past each other without enough friction for the gases to instantaneously react and pop. the door swings open, and it’s too late to escape. 

“major?” roy looks at you, and you force yourself to meet his gaze.

“colonel,” you greet him, your voice threatening to shake. your throat squeezes.  

the look in his eyes is devastating. the softness against onyx glass, both confusion and understanding mixing in a melting pot of empathy. “major, what are you doing here?”

you watch him closely. note the holster on his hip, his quivering, hesitant hands. he stands at the doorway, slouched slightly. “i could ask you the same thing,” you whisper. 

the smell, the can lying at your feet, the slow, steady drip of excess kerosene. if he pieces it together now, he doesn’t show it. you’re frozen where you stand, your hands behind you shaking too much to attempt to snap, posture poised to escape by foot. “don’t tell me you were about to do what i think you’re about to do, major.” he says so softly, calmly it makes you angry. how dare he patronise you at a time like this. please, just be angry. yell, scream shout. you wish he would give you a reason to fight. 

but instead he’s taking his hand off the holster on his hip, holding them up in faux surrender, and steps closer to you. 

“roy,” you voice wavers, and you curse it. “leave.”

“i can’t do that,” he whispers back. 

you need to distract him. you need to get your fire going, or somehow get him to start it. why won’t your fire work? how could it fail you now, after months of practice? how do you distract him? your eyes dart around the dim-lit room, searching for a way out. an escape. something to throw at him and run. 

“major,” he begins. “i know it’s hard. we’re all in the same boat as you.”

“shut up,” you hiss, “you don’t know anything.” 

he shrugs, dropping his arms. “you think i don’t know anything? you think i wasn’t there killing those people next to you?”

you bite your tongue. it’s unfair of you to take out this anger on roy. unfair of you to invalidate his own experience when you fought side by side. distract him. distract him.

“don’t do this, major.” he reaches for you, gloved hand outstretched. distract him. “don’t do this. you have so much amazing potential as an alchemist, and you’re sweet and funny and all the other alchemists love you.” roy pauses for a second, weighing the words on his tongue. distract him, distract him and set it ablaze. “...i—”

you don’t let him finish. you take the last step forward, closing the gap between the two of you and pushing your lips onto his, sealing his words in his mouth. he’s taken aback, stumbling slightly with a slight squeak of surprise, before his eyes flutter shut. he relaxes into your unwelcome welcome kiss, and your mind’s reeling a mile a minute. you’d always wondered what roy’s lips felt like, the soft breath against your skin. you never thought he’d feel this soft. 

now. now. now. your hands move wildly behind your back, taking this welcome distraction to finally produce your flames but your wrist is met with sudden resistance, a warm grip wrapping around you. “i’m not stupid, major,” roy breathes against your lips. but you’re looking at each other now, eyes glimmering, and he’s the one who presses his lips back to yours, hands wrapped around your wrists, slipping off your gloves. “be a good girl now.”

ruined. ruined. ruined. you push him off of you, glowering at him with a retort on the tip of your tongue, but you watch him light your gloves on fire, evaporating within seconds, dull ash flittering to the ground. “fuck you,” you hiss. “i fucking hate you.”

“you don’t mean that,” he murmurs, eyes shimmering, backing you into the corner. your hip hits the corner of a desk, piles and piles of folders scattered against the surface. you yelp softly, but roy swallows your noises, cupping your cheeks in his big, leather-clad palms and kissing you softly. he's touching you, handling you with such affection, such mirth and adoration in his eyes. you'd never imagine in any lifetime that you'd be right here, inches away from his lips."do you mean that?"

no. no, you don't, and it becomes an ache in your throat; a fire to be sated, to be extinguished with his lips on yours. but you're so angry, so frustrated that all your plans have been for naught, putting a fierceness behind your kisses. it's gnashing teeth and biting lips, ragged breathing. fuck you, you think, curving into the swell of his jaw. fuck you. let me die. but none of it escapes past your lips. not when your pinned dead to his gaze, like a small flame behind the dark of his eyes. kindling, splintering fire.

"that's my girl," roy breathes, a small shudder leaving his lips. the smell of kerosene becomes familiar to you, the burning in your nostrils nothing more than a sting now. "up. get up."

"fuck you," you say again, but comply. there has to be some kind of nicotine, some kind of drug in his spit because you need him to kiss you. some kind of fire in his fingertips, because for a second you'd forgotten the whole reason you were in this room. all you can think about is how much you crave his touch. "fuck you."

he hoists you by your hips, up onto the table, shoving the contents to the floor. your breathing hitches and you pull him in by his collar, mashing your lips together. it's messy, clumsy, graceless, but neither of you care. all you can think about is the way he's gripping the sides of the table, almost shaking with the amount of force he has to reign in. you arch along with one another, lips wet and soft and warm.

"roy," you whisper, intonating like a whine, and you fucking hate yourself for giving in so easy. for listening to the ache in your tummy, the pull of his weight on you. maybe, your mind tries to scramble, the only part still rational. maybe you can still distract him. 

you curse the body that has betrayed you, but when his hands come up to your thighs, spreading them with little grace, and he says, "i know darlin'. i know." you can’t seem to find it in you to push him away. can’t find it in you to disobey him. 

your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in deeper. his hair is soft, smooth, jet black as you run your fingers through it, tugging at the roots. he lets out a small groan, breathy and airy and you relish in it.

you ruined everything. everything.

it doesn't help for you to repeat these things in your head. it doesn't, because all it does is make you want him more, to kiss him and to conquer his battles. to prove him wrong, to show him what a disservice he did upon himself trying to stop you now. you need to make him want you, need you. you need to string him out, and cut him off.

and so you keep kissing him. kiss him until you're breathless, your voice lost in his throat, his spit dripping down yours. you're pulling him, more and more, over you that you collapse together against the large oak desk. you're spilling out of his hands and he's overflowing yours, the lewd sounds your mouth filling the gaps of air between you. "major," he breathes. "god, how long have you been wanting this?"

years. forever. ever since i met you. "i don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you spit at him, tugging him by the lapels of his jacket, hovering over your quivering body. "shut up and kiss me."

"yeah?" he taunts you. "want me to kiss you here, in the middle of your little arson case? want me to be nice to you when you were about to burn a building down? maybe you are a little stupid," he flicks your head. "you don't get to tell me what to do here, sweetheart."

you almost whine. almost thrash in his arms, almost throw a tantrum when he moves away from you, refusing the chase of your lips. "nuh uh," he continues. "you've been a very, very bad little girl."

the situation is ridiculous. what is his point in doing this, in taking away from you the only thing you've ever been brave enough to see through? he straightens up, gazing down at your figure sprawled against the dark oak table, glistening in the moonlight.

"you're beautiful," he whispers, dragging his fingers over your exposed skin. his touch lingers, raising goosebumps in his wake, and you shudder. ""what are you thinking about?"

the slick in between my legs. your hands on my skin. "how to set this shitty place on fire," you lie, gnashing your teeth together. "how much i want you to get off me."

roy chuckles, running a knuckle between your thighs. "are you sure that's what you're thinking about?" his skin makes contact with your heat through the layers of your uniform, and you keen. "something tells me otherwise."

you try to move, try to reach for his lapels or his coat or anything for some kind of leverage against him, to pull him down. but he stops you, gripping both wrists in one large palm.

"don't even think about it, major." he breathes against the skin of your thigh. "maybe i need to teach you a little lesson, hm?"

how did you even get here? in all the ways you'd imagined that this night would end, you'd never imagined this happening. not pinned under colonel roy mustang, his hands gripping yours above your head, some kind of tension palpable enough that you can hardly wade through it.

"you have no idea how much i've thought about this," he chuckles. "always wondered what you'd look like fuckin' powerless under me. never thought you'd be so fuckin' pretty, yeah?"

how much i've thought about this. your eyes snap up to meet his, a look of confusion crossing your features. "you— what?"

"don't pretend like you don't know, major," his fingers trace the seam of your pants, directly along your cunt. "you know what i'm talking about."

"no, i fuckin' don't," your retort catches you off guard, a small huff of breath exhaled through your lips in the shape of those words. "you—"

"and i know," roy's hands, skilled and gloved, shift to the buckle of your uniform pants. "that you've wanted this too. haven't you?"

you look at him. you don't know what you look like, and frankly you're scared you'd be humiliated if you did. because your eyes, rimmed with desperation, some sort of sick want to be held and told, good job, i'm proud of you, peer up at him innocently.

"answer me."

"yes." it's out of your mouth before you can stop it, but you don't bother hiding it. "yes, yes."

roy mustang undoes the buckle of your pants so swiftly you make it a mental note to ask him why he's so skilled at removing women's buckles, but it's lost to you the moment the stiff, starchy material falls away. the air is cold and his palms are so hot, burning you with every simmering touch he graces your unmarked skin.

it's almost ridiculous, the way he shimmies your pants down your legs. "c'mon, help me out a little here, sweetheart." he grunts, and you help him, lift your hips up just a little to let him in just a little more. it slides off with regrettable ease, and you're left pantsless in a cold room.

so thank god his lips are immediately on yours, because you suck the warmth right out of him that way. you take, take, take, your freezing fingertips to his burning ones and you keep taking until it hurts, until you're dizzy with heat. roy warms you up so nicely, snaking his arms behind your back and pulling you close to him, a tight embrace that you can't even begin to count how much years since you've felt.

"baby," he whispers, and the pet name makes you shiver, your core quivering. "tell me. do you think you've been a good girl these days?"

you look at him, kiss drunk, his lips swollen and red and so kissable. "no," you answer truthfully. "i've been far from it."

he gasps mockingly, kissing your forehead. "maybe you aren't that much of an airhead, baby,"

you flush furiously. on any other day, in any other circumstance you would have retorted, shot back with a comment of your own, but you can't. you don't know why. you're sunk, surrounded by waters, tossing you every which way, shallow enough to keep you alive, but deep enough that you could barely reach out of the water, call for help. you've sunken deep into this headspace, and you do what roy has never seen you do.

you whine. and you beg.

"need to feel you," you whisper. it's ridiculous, the rational part of your brain yells, but you can't seem to reconcile your thoughts to your actions, your words. "roy, roy."

"you think you deserve it?" he tuts, another finger rubbing a circle through the thin fabric of your panties, and you buck into his hands, pushing back for more, more. "i don't think you do. i don't think you deserve anything."

that makes you livid. it makes you flush, your cunt ache. "you're terrible," you spit. "if you won't make me cum, let me do it myself."

"i didn't say i wasn't gonna let you cum," he grins, pearly whites flashing fluorescent at you. "i just said i don't think you deserve me touching you just yet."

he bends down now, nosing against the damp spot on the centre of your panties, trailing soft kisses against the skin of your inner thighs, the junction for your legs meet your body, the sensitive skin between your legs and where you need him most. "what do you think, baby?" he whispers, peering up at you from between your legs. "do you think you deserve this?" he licks a stripe along the wet spot, and you clench, the ghostly feeling of his tongue against you brushing you against the wall of your orgasm.

"roy," is all you can manage.

"i asked you a question, major." he sticks his tongue out, pressing it flat against the crotch of your panties, the warmth and heat of his mouth making you gush even more slick. god, he's such a fucking tease, hands behind his back and refusing to touch you even as you buck your hips forward to meet his mouth. "answer."

"no," you almost sob. "no, i don't deserve it."

he smiles. wolfish, sinister. "that's right." he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. "you don't deserve this. i'm so fuckin' nice to give this to you, right? say yes."

"yes."

"yes, who?"

you look down at him, and he peers back at you, curious, demanding. you rake your hazy mind, trying to think whether he had mentioned something in passing to you, whether you keep the notes he's written for you. but nothing comes to mind. daddy? master? colonel?

what finds fruition on your tongue is, yes, sir.

roy mustang groans. groans, guttural and horrendously sexy, against the clothed dampness of your pussy. "sir, huh?" he teases you. "you like when your superior fucks you?"

another question. another, "yes, sir."

you can see the way it makes him flush, the tips of his ears turning red as he listens to you. "good girl," he grunts, licking another fat stripe up against the seam of your panties. "good fuckin' girl."

the feeling of his tongue on you, couples with the hands that slowly, slowly slither up from your calves to your knees to your thighs, to burn you alive. you can't help but whine, humping back against the ridge of his nose, the feeling of his tongue. "sir, sir," you whine. "wanna— wanna feel you."

you're gonna be the death of me, he thinks, looking up at you with an obsidian gaze. "want to feel me, baby?" he asks, slipping a single finger under the elastic of your panties. "want me to get rid of this stupid piece of cotton?" you nod frantically, your hands clutching the ridges at the head of the desk, vision blurry. "then beg."

when roy makes a command to you, you never hesitate to abide by it. never hesitate to drop what you're doing to join him for a meeting, or come with him for lunch. you hand him your pens when he asks for one. you do what he tells you, like a good subordinate. so now, it's in your very nature to obey him completely. "please, please sir. take off my panties, please."

"more."

"roy, fuck, please. please, pleasepleaseplease."

he looks at you, some kind of sick, twisted pity in his eyes. your voice, hoarse and strained, pitching upwards in a plea, it melts him. he, untouchable, invincible, reared to his knees. roy mustang kisses you once, twice, sweet spit slick on your lips. “good girl,” he whispers, and his fingertips dig underneath the flimsy cotton of your panties.

plain white, stretching over the curve of your hips and ass, a pretty pink little bow in the centre of the elastic. “pretty,” he whispers, almost mesmerising. “pretty little thing.”

he keeps his promises. always does. he tugs, once harsh, one more time gentle, and your hips lift intrinsically, the cotton falling away, down your hips to your thighs, revealing to him your slick pussy, cunt glistening with wet. he chokes back a groan, but his eyes never leave the string of slick that connects your skin to your panties. his eyes grow impossibly darker, gaze flicking up to meet yours. 

“you’ve been keeping this pussy away from me, huh?” he taunts, pulling your panties further down so it dangles by your ankles, before slipping them off completely, tucking it into his pocket. “years of fuckin’ teasing me, hiding this princess cunt away from me.”

you mewl. “shut up,” you moan, swivelling your hips to back up closer to him. “you— you never wanted me.”

“lies. fuckin’ lies.” he seethes, hunching over you. “look at you. you think i never wanted you? you’re irresistible, fucking insatiable. kept you around hoping one day you’ll cave.” he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “and i’m fucking glad i waited.”

the words make you shiver. make you arch your back to chase more of him, desperate for some kind, any kind of touch. 

“be patient,” he huffs, drawing patterns into the plush flesh of your thighs. “you want this, huh? tell me. tell me you’ve always wanted me.” it’s a command but the way his voice pitches upwards, it finishes like a plea. tell me you want this too, he begs. tell me i wasn’t the only one who wanted this. 

“yes,” you answer, breathy. “i want— always wanted this,” his hands, warm, so warm, fit like a glove along the curve of your hips, the divots where your torso melds into your legs. “roy, wanted you.”

he groans. “you’re such a bad girl,” you can hear something moving, clunking like metallic, but you can’t keep your eyes open long enough to see, to understand. “need to teach you a lesson, yeah? say yes.”

“yes,” you gasp. “yes sir.”

“bad fucking slut, begging for her superior to fuck her dumb. aren’t you?” his voice is getting frantic, and you feel him moving against you desperately, his hips pressing to your bare, uncovered cunt. his pants, thick and rough, drag along your clit and you stutter out a whine before you feel it. 

the hardening bulge in his pants. the painful, excruciating fruition of his desire, prodding against your pussy. fuck. fuck. you want it, need it, more than anything else you’d ever thought about. 

“answer me, slut.”

“yes!” you wail, desperate, clinging on to his jacket. it’s infuriating, humiliating that you’re naked waist down, your suit and jacket haphazard on your torso while he’s still picture perfect, kept and clean other than the desperate tent in his pants. 

“close your eyes, major,” he commands you, and you frown, mouth open and poised to question him, but you’re met with a stern tap on your cheek and harsh words. “i said, close your eyes.”

you blink back at him, still defiant. 

something in his jaw shifts and you don’t see it happening, but his fingers come up to your collarbones, clad in leather and warm. they wrap around your throat, and he gives you a tight squeeze. you gasp, your throat bobbing under the sternness of his hands. “i’m not going to repeat myself, major.”

you can’t retort, not without your voice cutting out, your dignity wavering, so you let your eyes flutter shut. your hands coming down to grasp at his arm, not quite pulling him off, more a kind of grounding, centering yourself as shapes and colours spin behind your eyelids. your cunt throbs, clenching around nothing as he just squeezes harder, and then suddenly lets go. 

you stutter through a cough, a gasp, but force your eyes to remain closed. you don’t dare disobey him now, not as you feel him move against you, warm leather tracing down your thighs and lifting up, up, up to expose your bare pussy to the cold air. “s-sir,” you whimper. 

“shhhh,” he hushes you, and from the sound of his voice, the vibrations against your core, you can tell where he is; close to your pussy, right above it maybe. it proves right when you feel his tongue, warm, wet, soft run up along the slit of your pussy. you whine, a full body shudder rippling through you, crawling under your skin. “stay.”

the low timbre of his voice convinces you to listen, and stay. stay as he drags his tongue, tantalising, torturous against your cunt, lapping up any of your gush and slick. you can’t see anything, all your trust embedded in the man in front of you as he holds your thighs open, lips right up against your pussy. 

roy pauses for a while, the warmth of his tongue and fingers and draping presence leaving you cold for a second before you hear a bit of shuffling, a bit of rustling, shifting. “be good now,” he murmurs. “okay?”

and that’s when you feel it. cold metal, warming up as he drags it up, down along your slick. your eyes shoot open when it dawns upon you what exactly is pressing into your warm skin, a broken gasp tearing through your throat. his gun, his hands on the handle, nowhere near the trigger, guiding the tip against the slit of your cunt. “r-roy—”

“i said, be good,” he grunts, other hand returning to wrap around your throat. “i said i was gonna teach you a lesson, didn’t i?”

you can’t help but clench, can’t help but let your jaw drop open as the barrel rubs against your clit. “oh my god, oh my god,” you stutter through the constriction of your throat. why aren’t you scared? the feeling of the gun against your pussy does nothing to terrify you, but all to arouse you. it’s insane, the chill of the metal material pressing up against your welcoming slit, your pussy subconsciously gushing as it rubs again, and again, and again against the wet of your cunt and pushes in, your back arching into him as his gun fucks you. 

“you like my gun?” his voice is rough, scratching against your ear drums. he lowers himself, his thumb and index finger tightening against the pretty column of your throat. “you do, don’t you? don’t even know if i have my safety on, baby. i’m sure i turned it on, but—” but you cut him off with a mewl, and you can see the quick second of confusion on his face. 

“ah,” he says when he gets it, the frown in his forehead smoothing out. “you like the danger. you like that i could just—” he mimics the sound of a trigger and a shot, “— don’t you? tell me you like it.”

the oblong shape of the barrel fucks your walls strangely, warming up quickly bathed in the syrupy slick of your pussy. “i-i like it,” you whisper, barely audible over the schlick, schlick sound that your pussy makes every time he works the barrel into your tight pussy. you’re so debauched you can’t gather enough willpower to buck your hips down to meet the rhythm of his thrusts, just letting him stretch you open with the round tip of the gun. “h-haa,” you whimper, throat squeezing with the force of his hand. 

“good. good girl.” he breathes, shoving the gun deeper in. it’s humiliating, the way it hurts, the way that doesn’t even deter you from wanting more. the metal is solid, stiff, unyielding, unlike a normal cock. it doesn’t meld to the shape of your walls, or give way, but insteads stretches you out and open and begging for more. “taking it like such a good girl. learning your lesson, hm?” 

“shut up,” you hiss at him, trying to keep your eyes open, but they refuse. so you glare at him through hooded eyes, keeping them in focus, trying so hard to stop them from rolling back into your head. 

he tuts. gives you one last shove, the barrel of the gun pressed up against your sweet spot, and you fall apart, legs giving out and eyes rolling back. it’s all too much and yet not enough to cum; but just as you’re about to beg for more, just a little more, he pulls it out of you. 

roy relishes in the look you give him, part shock, part disgust, but most of all, annoyance. “roy—” you begin, but you don’t get to finish. 

“i was just calling you a good girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to loom over you. he brings his hand, gun in grip, up to your face, and presses the slick barrel to the seam of your lips, globs of clear and white coating the black polish of the gun. “you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?” he presses harder, and your lips part subconsciously, letting the warm metal slide into your mouth. you groan at the sour, sweet taste of you on your tongue, and drop your jaw to make way for the smooth surface of the gun. “suck. clean it up. lick it till it’s spotless.”

you frown at him, but he responds by shoving it further in, and you gag around the barrel. “i said, suck.”

like a cock, like his cock, you bob your head up and down the shaft of the gun barrel, taking all of it down your throat. you taste yourself, along with the tanginess of warm metal, melting together in your mouth, metallic and sour and disgusting, and yet you can’t seem to disobey. can’t seem to stop, or falter. because to you, right now, disobeying roy is so much more terrifying than the gun in your mouth. 

and he’s looking at you, really looking at you, a cross between some kind of admirer and a predator, wanting to consume you whole but savour it, mesmerise the curves of your body as he tears it apart. love as consumption, love as violence. 

“wanna fuck you on my cock,” he hisses, pulling the gun out of your mouth. “gonna let me? let me into your little princess cunt?”

your lips part in a soft gasp as he drags the bulge of his pants along your bare clit. “yes,” you answer, eyes fluttering shut. “please?”

roy looms over you, his figure hulking and dark. he tips your chin up with a single finger, his gaze so intensely sharp you feel it penetrating through your lungs, scuttling between your ribs. and then he goes soft, dips his head down to press his lips to yours ever so sweetly, groaning the tangy taste of yourself on your tongue. 

“give you what you want,” he grunts as he pulls away, hands unbuckling his belt, shucking it down just enough to free his cock. “gonna give my girl what she wants.”

his girl. if there was still any fight left in you after the last ten minutes it’s completely withered away now, the words burning through your torso and flicking out at the tip of your cunt. “your girl?” you ask, dazedly.

“my girl,” he repeats, pulling out his cock. your breath hitches as he lets it free, springing up thick and fat, a pretty shade of pink. the tip of it is bruisingly red, oozing precum in globs of pearly white, and he steps closer to you, scooping you into his arms. “my best girl.”

a whine climbs through your throat and tears out of your mouth. best girl. you aren’t, could never be, not with the lingering scent of kerosene in the room, almost forgotten in your haze to feel him moving inside of you. you aren’t good, nowhere near the best. but in this dingy, dim-lit room, your panties tucked in his pocket, your superior’s cock bumping clumsily against your slick covered folds, he’s convinced you're the best girl in the world. 

“let me in,” he all but begs, pushing closer. your hand slithers down two where you are about to meet, angling his cock for him. his hands are busy, one braced on the table, supporting himself, and the other wrapped around your back, keeping you close. “let me in, okay?”

the tip of his cock is excruciating. it’s fat, mushroom tip bludgeoning into the small slit of your pussy. you both groan, his forehead falling forward to press against yours as you work his tip into your cunt. “roy,” you whine, mewl, claw at his shoulders.

“i know, baby,” he grits his teeth, hand slipping to guide your hips further forward, tipping your back against the table. “open up for me— shit. you’re fucking tight.”

your back against the table, your legs hitched up against the edge, he manages to slip himself further into your tight heat, some kind of eminence in the way you both shudder and moan at the feeling of him stretching you out. “you’re so big,” you manage through muffled whimpers. your hands reach out for him, almost like you’re trying to grab him. “come— c’mere. roy. come—”

and he does, leaning over you and letting you wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. he chuckles. “just wanted to be near me, is that it princess?”

you whine an affirmative, and he places a wet kiss on your forehead. “are you all the way in?” you ask, eyes barely open enough to glance down to see for yourself. 

“no,” the word makes your pussy clench tighter. he’s already nudging against the sweet spot of your gummy walls, already burning at the stretch of his cock in your pussy and he’s not even all the way in? you try valiantly to peer down where you are connected, where your poor, abused pussy is stretched out around the middle of his cock. “a bit more to go, okay?”

you nod, and he pushes, so fucking slow and steady until all of him is inside you, until you can feel him nudging against something deeper, sensitive. it feels like you’re suffocating, like you’re stuffed full of his cock; and you are. you are, stuffed to the brim, bursting at the seams. one move and you’re collapsing, falling apart, legs instinctively knocking together as you cry out. 

“stop that,” roy snaps, and you feel a quick sear of heat against your thigh. just a small pinch of flame, enough to bring you back to your senses. “keep them spread. got it?”

“y-yes,” you answer shakily. 

“yes who?” 

your pussy tightens and he hisses, tapping your cheek with enough force that your neck whips to the side. “yes sir, yes sir,” you babble unconsciously. he flashes you a grin, a cheshire smile that you fell so infatuated with, and now it’s here in front of you, balls deep in your pussy. crazy how life turns out, you barely manage to think before he’s rearing back and slamming into your pussy again. 

it’s calculated, the way he’s fucking into you, the tip of his cock ramming into your sweet spot again and again and again. he’s hammering at it, the cruel man, rutting in glee at the way you’re falling apart beneath him. your eyes are rolling back and hardly focused, glazed over with a sheen of ecstasy, and your jaw loose. he’s forcing small blabbers and whines and whimpers out of you with every malicious slam of his hips.

they’re earth-shattering. you’ve been fucked before, had men and women alike vy for your attention, but none have ever come close to the way roy mustang is fucking you right now. he’s so careful, so precise with the way he’s treating you, words soft and mellow, completely contradicting the rough, borderline torturous movement of his hips. “that’s my good fucking girl,” he whispers in your ear. “just lying there and taking it, huh?”

you feel something pressed to the side of your head. when your eyes come back into focus you glance to your left; the sheen of the metal gun greets you. the barrel pointed at the side of your head, roy’s fingers dangerously close to the trigger. 

“go on,” he murmurs. “keep fucking my cock.”

you don’t dare disobey. his hips still slightly, continuing a shallow thrust every so often. you whine but oblige, backing your hips down to meet his hips. “sir, sir,” you whimper, tears springing into your eyes.

he tuts. “don’t you dare complain,” he hisses, shoving the tip of the gun harder against your temple. “keep fucking my cock or i’ll pull it.”

you know he’s bluffing. the safety’s on, and he would never pull the trigger on a colleague, on a friend. but it freezes in your heart, a small hand wrapped in ice twisting around your ribcage and squeezing. the thought of it terrifies you, but more than that it arouses you. the laying down of your life in his hands, trusting him not to pull it. it excites you, sends a reckoning through your bones. so you do what you’ve always done for roy mustang, and that’s obey.

you’re pathetic, hips dragging uselessly up and down against his cock. he’s nice enough not to sneer at you, pathetic pussy half decent at swallowing his cock, because you’re so goddamn tight, so goddamn beautiful. half of him wants to drop the mean demeanour, just shower you in as much affection as he can. but the other, more rational part of him knows; you need to be taught a lesson.

“that’s it,” he smiles. “my little arsonist finally doing something good for once. think i fucked the lesson into you yet? think you can be a good girl now?” he takes you by surprise and shoves himself inside you down to the hilt, watching the way your tits jiggle under your uniform, your eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. “or do i have to cum in you, leave a little reminder?”

you shudder at his words, eyes going wide. god, god, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, saying what you’ve always imagined him to say. suddenly, you’re begging again. words muffled, eyes glassy with tears. “cum in me,” you beg. “cum inside, knock me up, please.”

“yeah?” he muses. “need a constant reminder of how to be a good girl? a little life time punishment, give you a little baby? maybe that way you'll have to stay with me,” he’s growing restless too now, thrusts messy. “god, you know i’ll give it to you. c’mon. beg for it.”

you look up at him through the tinted glass of your tears. crystalline pearls running down your face as you beg, “please, plea— holy fuck, yes, right there! roy, roy please knock me up, please cum inside!” you’re not even caring, not even half awake to realise that your own orgasm is creeping up on you. the tightness in your abdomen, the sudden urge to—

“i need—” you gasp when you realise. “i need to go.”

“go?” he slurs, pussydrunk on your sloppy, gooey pussy. “go where, baby?”

“no,” you shake your head vehemently, taking the palm that holds the gun in both of yours, the gun clattering to the table as you guide him to your navel. “i have to go.”

his eyebrows pinch for a second before he realises. “you need to go.” he looks down now, at his hand hovering above your navel, your palms so much smaller in comparison to his. roy looks back up at you, something malicious flickering in his eyes before you feel his hand cover your tummy, and pushing.

the gasp that bubbles past your lips is criminal. the way your body reacts is almost primal, bucking into his arms, back arching. “roy, roy, stop—”

“hold it, okay?” he whispers, pushing a little harder. the pressure is insane, dizzying to you. “don’t you dare piss on me.”

“roy—”

“wrong name, baby.”

“sir,” you almost squeal, the combined force of his heavy thrusts and the pressure on your navel impossible to tolerate. you’re trying to reconcile your senses, trying to hold it as much as you can but it’s no use. “i have to, i have to go.”

“gonna piss on me?” he’s rough now, slamming his hips into you with a lewd slapping sound of his pelvis against your ass. “gonna wet yourself like a little untrained puppy? i thought you were my good fuckin’ girl.”

“it hurts,” you whimper. “can’t hold it, can’t.” 

“just a little more,” he coos at you, relishing in the way your face pinches, genuine desperation painting your cheeks. “just hold it a little more, okay? you can do that, can’t you?”

you want to shake your head no. but if there’s anything that you’ve learnt tonight it’s to obey roy mustang. so you do, holding as he continues the torture on your cunt. his hand leaves your navel, coming down instead to toy with your puffy clit, sore and neglected. you bite your lip, muffling the whimpers that threaten to betray you as he rubs a slow, torturous circle against you. 

“hold. it.” he says one more time, and you can’t listen, can’t obey. not with his fingers speeding up, rubbing your clit with precise movements. not with his cock buried inside of you, pressing against spots you never even knew anyone could reach, before pulling back and slamming into you at a pace that makes you dizzy. all of it, all of it is so much.

and when you cum, you cum hard.

the pressure on your bladder releases as you cum, your stream gushing out as your cunt tightens around his cock. a loud moan claws through your throat, head tipping back as he fucks you through it, the wetness and sloppiness additional lube to ease the chase of his own high. it’s messy, wet, disgusting; and roy’s looking at you like you hung the moon.

“pissed all over me,” he snarks, and you can only whimper, the aftershocks of your orgasm still catching up to you. your mind’s a haze, clouded over with the wet, warm feeling of liquid pooling under your ass, on his pants, all over the both of you. “couldn’t even listen to simple instruction.”

“i tried,” you beg. “please— i’m sorry.” 

sorry. that’s new. that’s something he’d never heard from you. an apology, and a genuine one at that; or as genuine as a post-cumming apology can be, with his fat cock still inside you. it rears something in his head, a flame igniting. “i’m gonna fuck you now,” he whispers. “gonna use you ‘til i cum inside you. wanted me to knock you up, right?” he pants, head dropping to rest against yours. “tell me again. tell me where you want it.”

“inside,” you breathe, your mouth hanging open. he pants into your mouth and you want to swallow him whole. “want your cum i’side.”

“gonna give it to you,” he whimpers. he’s close, so close. 

“sir,” you whisper. “roy.”

“yeah?” he strains. 

“i—” you begin, but it gets caught in your throat, with a particularly strong thrust into you, pushing past the limits you didn't even know could be reached. your words are swallowed by his kiss, a desperate press of his lips to yours as he reaches, chases, grasps his orgasm. and it’s you, wrapping your legs around him and sighing, that push him over the edge. 

it’s blinding, the feeling of his cock throbbing inside you as he cums. his cum is warm, thick, and you can feel it filling you up slowly. “oh my god,” you whimper. “yes, yes.”

“take it,” he grunts, shoving himself further into you. “take it, take it.” and don’t waste a drop, he can’t find the tongue to say. 

you hold each other as you come down from your high, breathing and panting heavily. your foreheads are pressed against one another, and it’s like now that his balls are emptied in your womb, all sense and sensibility come flooding back. his brain’s finally the one in charge, and yet he doesn’t want to leave. 

but despite himself, he has to. for his job, his country. “baby,” he whispers softly, after a few minutes. “what were you doing here?”

you don’t want to answer. you wish, wish to whatever deity is looking down upon you now will show you mercy, swallow you whole into the ground. but nothing changes, and he’s just looking and you and looking at you. you don’t know how to answer. 

“were you,” he begins. “going to set it on fire?” 

“just this room,” you promise quickly, sitting up to grab at the lapels of his coat. “leave my uniform and shoulder marks, produce a corpse.” he looks at you, pity stirring in his dark eyes. “run away.”

from you.

“i can’t, roy,” you beg him to understand. to acknowledge you beyond pity, but as a person. “i can’t serve as an alchemist anymore. not when i have blood on my hands.” 

“you don’t—”

“i do,” you plead. “i took an oath to protect and i ended up killing.”

“for the sake of amestris.”

“for the sake of the führer,” you bludgeon on. “for whatever stupid reason he had to attack that innocent town. they didn’t have to die, roy,” you’re on the verge of tears, and he drops everything to hold you now, scoop you into his big, big arms. “i want— marcoh left, so many others resigned, why can’t i?”

you grieve for a life lived disillusioned, a state that promised you success and made you kill for it. you grieve for a hand that has touched blood, spilled blood. you grieve not only for who you were before this, but who roy was, who the other state alchemists were. you grieve for the people you were forced to eradicate, a city turned to dust in just days. the ishval civil war changed you, changed everyone, and you needed out. 

roy holds you as you cry, lets a few of his own tears fall as he listens to you. the wreckedness of your voice, the hoarse throat; roy never believed in higher powers, but he calls on them now to keep you safe, to keep you healthy and strong, and to never let you cry these crystalline tears ever again. 

“go,” he whispers. “i’ll handle the rest.”

you still. look up at him. “what?”

“i said, go.” he can’t look you in the eye, focusing instead on his gloved hand, and what he was about to do. “promise me you’ll be safe.”

divine intervention. a way out. an escape. “you…”

“major,” he begins. “it was a pleasure serving with you.”

roy turns to look at you one last time, onyx eyes soft and mellow, brimming with glassy tears. you can see the way his lip trembles, aches to feel yours one last time. “likewise,” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. “it was a pleasure, colonel.” 

he watches in silence as you hop off the table, leaving your uniform and your marks on the ground, amidst the puddle of kerosene on the other side of the room. watches as you soak them up, and look at him. “you don’t have to,” you start, your voice wavering. 

“it’ll happen anyway,” he laughs, but there’s a hesitance, a reluctance behind it. “i said it once, i’ll say it again. i got your back.”

you give him a watery smile. “thank you, roy.” there’s a moment of silence, a beat passing between the two of you. you know time is not, has never been, on your side, and it doesn’t let up, not even in this moment. your goodbyes have to be quick. 

so you take a small step forward towards his unmoving figure, and reach up on your tiptoes. he doesnt move, just holds his breath, and you kiss him. sweet, genuine, melting. your lips are soft, bruised a little from your previous interaction, but he savours it all anyway. the way you gasp when he kisses you back, planting his hands against the small of your back to bring you closer. the sway of your body in his arms. the way you hands slip into the divots of his coat, clutching it like a lifeline. he drinks it all in, and knows this is the last time he will see you, kiss you, touch you. 

i love you, he wants to whisper, desperately, clinging onto you. i love you, i love you, i love you. 

but he doesn’t. he lets his lips and his hands speak those words, flood out of his fingertips like waves crashing upon a shore. don’t leave me, please.

but you do. you have to. your mind’s made up, and when you part, he can see the hesitance on your face fade. “i'm sorry,” you whisper. "goodbye."

and before he can whisper goodbye back, before he can convince you to stay one more moment, you twist out of his grip and climb out the way you came from. you don’t stop to look back. you don’t stop, and before long, you’re a shadow in a sea of static, blending in with the night.

behind you, central library roars to life. more than just the room you’d doused in kerosene, you’re sure. the size of the fire is terrifying to witness, plumes of smoke rising to the sky. you can hear the shouts of agony, of worry, the sound of the city waking up to its newest accident. but you’re long gone.

amestris has crumbled before you. life long dreams shattered, the pursuit of happiness ending in the path to disillusion. 

there’s a piece of paper in his coat pocket. roy pulls it out, words illuminated by the bright flames.

eastern desert.

a sudden knowing. another door open. he smiles.

Geto purrs. "Are you going to cum like that?"

"No, but... that feels really good."

Your needy words are orders to him so he continues to fuck you like that, just as you ask him without saying anything else: slowly, with open palms barely pushing your belly down to get the feel of how deep he goes inside you. His hips create long rolls that end with him out of you only to slam back in with an audible "clap" of skins that keeps your swirling breaths company.

The curling pubes tickle your clit each time he thrusts in and out, so deep, so desperate, you can feel a trail of your dripping juices slide from your pussy onto the sheets.

"Faster," you demand in agitation.

"Yeah?" At that precise moment his strokes trace a more precise and prolonged rhythm, more cruel and firm, forcing your pussy hard to take the full thickness of his cock. "Like this?"

The "yeah" that escapes from between your tender lips barely reaches the surface, climbing amidst Geto's curses and your uncontrolled moans. Then his thighs cage yours and his big hands reach for yours to bring them on top of your head— his body crushes you against the mattress that growls behind each of his pounding, his chest squeezes your nipples, his wet forehead rests on yours and his warm moans sneak through your half-open mouth.

"I love you." The rocking of his hips reaches even deeper after he utters those three words. "I love you." He repeats again, and your stomach flips. "I love you, my beautiful, beautiful (Name)."

His lips attack yours without giving your broken voice time to take center stage. He dulls the nauseating taste of curses with the softness of your mouth, with your lovely tongue playing with his, Geto is even forced to suck gently on the tip of it; the latter being what brings him to his orgasm.

Deep grunts make the skin on the back of your neck bristle, his body finishes trembling over yours as he whispers in your ear, begging you to cum for him, please.

"Comin', c-comin', Suguru..." You warn him by arching your back and three fingers massaging your clit accompany you on your high, along with lazy thrusts.

"Attagirl."

Your trembling fingers seek his face and you draw him to you in a sloppy kiss in which Geto finishes by sucking on your lower lip. "I fucking love you too."

By then his hands are playing with the skin of your tummy, traveling from your hips to your chest. His face draws a pleased grimace. "I'm yours, (Name)." There's an anchor sinking into his ribs as he admits it out loud. There, as he closes his eyes and melts from the caresses you bring to his skull he is pleased when you repeat a firm:

"I'm yours, Suguru."

Geto blinks slowly and anyone could see big hearts etched in his pupils. "Let's go get sushi, I'm fucking starving."

"Damn, I thought you said my pussy was enough." You manage to control a smile that almost takes over your lips. He leaves a fleeting kiss on your shoulder accompanied by a giggle.

He looked at you as you walked past him, and even if you saw the way he looked at your chest you kept quiet and smiled to yourself, carrying on with what you were currently doing. You were a woman, his woman. People did not really cared about how you met each other, were you friend, hunting buddy ? Who knows. The only thing that they were sure of was that the two of you were undoubtedly and madly in love with each other. 

More than one caught on the way Neteyam looked at you whenever you would be around him, the way you would sneak a peek when you thought he wasn't looking. But little did you know he had his eyes on you every-time. When he wasn't busy with his duties as a warrior, he would always be near you, a hand in the small of your back, making you glow like crazy - I'm a fervent believer that Na'vi don't blush but that their little freckles glow, fight me. He would gently grab your long braid and would bask in the feeling of joy it would procure him, knowing that you trusted him enough to let him touch this part of you. And touching a Na'vi's braid was probably one of the most intimate thing someone could do, so when the two of you were together, people learned to avoid looking at you both, you were so Lovey-dovey. Eventually, Neteyam's mother told him to not touch your braid in public and the boy was mad, but he smiled and agreed, gently cursing in his head. He couldn't rub to the man's face his claim on you, what a shame.

Because even though the Omatikaya greatly respected their chief's son, they never saw him as someone who would be jealous or selfish - like his brother. And boy, they were wrong.

"Did you see how he was looking at you ?" he laughed, throwing his head back and looking at the little stars who glowed on your cheeks.

"You're mean Neteyam..."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." his voice trembled as he was trying to calm himself down. "No, but have you seen it..?" he bursted into another fit of laugher, gently laying his head on you shoulder.

"Neteyam !"

"He definitely wanted to hit on you." Neteyam said with a sudden blanked face. When he was like this it was impossible for you to understand what he was thinking. Well, no matter how much time you spent with him you never had been able to read him properly, he was such a mystery and it never failed to fascinate you. Each day was a brand new day with him. "He don't understand, but I'll let it slide."

"He his your little brother, why would he looked at his brother's girlfriend." you asked, genuinely confused, lowering your bow and turning to face him. "He is very nice to me, he don't think of me like that."

"Oh love, you're so sweet, it hurts." he said, towering over you and kissing your forehead in a soft manner that he was only able to do. The only thing that made your heart flutter. "Don't be fooled by those pretty green eyes, he can be a skxawng sometimes. But he's never gonna act on his little crush for you, he knows you're mine." He gently took your bow off your hand and putted it next to you, on the ground, before gently pushing you against the tree you two were hiding behind - not without putting his hand behind your head in order to protect you, he was a gentleman. He looked at your big round eyes and laid down for a kiss, whispering against your lips "My mate. Mine."

"Net'..." you mewled, pushing yourself further into the rough bark. Sensing what was coming, you were getting nervous and oh so excited. Your tail was swaying back and forth and you grabbed it in your hand, clutching it closer to your chest. You were a warrior too. Not the best, but you were skilled. And yet, you still acted like you were just a young Na'vi; not so innocent touches would make you blush and dirty words would make you wonder. And being the nice little soldier that he was, Neteyam loved teasing you. It would come off as cute for the other, but some knew, his brother knew, his father knew, when you two were alone, Neteyam was mean.

 He lowly growled, gripping at the tree, before stepping back and looking at you with that adorable smile that made everyone fall for him. "How much time left ?"

"Four eclipse..."

"I'll wait."

What you loved about your future mate was that he was compliant. When you told him that you wanted to follow every and each tradition of your clan, he was confused at first. His father, the dream walker, did not followed those tradition, he mated with his wife under the eyes of Eywa, he never explained to his son those so called tradition. Their grand-mother once tried, but perhaps they weren't interested as they just waved it off. His father, the chief of the clan, was really open about a lot of thing. If someone would come to him and ask him to do something according to the tradition, he would seek advice to his mother-in-law and work in tandem with everyone. However, since he took the lead of the clan, since the Omatikayas left their Hometree and lost a part of their identity, some traditions got lost along the way. Eventually, when Neteyam was aware of everything which would happen he agreed. No matter what, he was going to agree.

It's been two day and one night. Neteyam did not laid his eyes on you for a whole day. He was tensed, easily irritated, and snapped at his brother more than once. Eventually, Lo'ak decided to let his brother drown himself in his envy of you. Your pretty eyes, you pretty hair, your pretty smile, pretty pretty you. You were like a drug to him and it was honestly concerning his family. Nice and soft Neteyam was angry. How weird.

According to the tradition, you two would hunt during three days. What you caught would be served to the people of the clan. Plenty of food for the feast meant that you were 'worthy', it was the equivalent of the amont of money someone would put on their wedding, except that here it was all about skills. Then, you wouldn't see each other for two days, until the fest begins. You would mate in front of everyone, under the Tree of Souls, and spend the day after together, just the two of you. What a sweet schedule.

"Son."

"Sir."

"Just-... You can call me Dad." Jake sat next to Neteyam - who straightened his back, and a blank filled the air as none of them wanted to speak. "I am- I'm very proud of you. I don't say it often but everything you achieved, it makes me really happy to see that you are seeking true happiness. She's great for you, you are perfect for each other, I know it, please take care of yourself, both of you."

"Dad. Thanks." he thanked his father, smiling at him. But even Jake could see that he was not really there.

"I... This is not the reason why I am here." The dream walker looked uncomfortable, it did not escaped Neteyam's hawk eyes; he was scratching his head, avoiding eye contact and bouncing his legs. If it was another day, he would have laughed, now he just wanted his father to leave him alone respectfully of course. "Those traditions. I understand that those are our legacy. But, you know... What's going to happen tonight, on Earth, it wasn't like that. I just want you to know that if you see me being...uncomfortable, it's because it's weird for me to see my son fuck his girlfriend, you know ?"

"I think ?"

"Good. I'm leaving." Jake beamed, happy to be free from the thought that was taunting him for a few days now. He made a quick escape and left his son is the tent.

"Before we go and fest from their catch, we will witness the love that the mated pair held for each other under the kindly eyes of Eywa. Our ancestors did it and under their wish, we will carry this tradition tonight." Jake took a break and roamed the assembly of blue people who were sat in the same pattern as when they transferred his soul into his Avatar body. He resumed, "But before, the female will perform the courtship ritual for her male. May the bonding start !"

A traditional music arose in the air and the Na'vi started to sing along while the area suddenly glowed blue. Neteyam, who was sitting on the ground, watched with careful yet hungry eyes the silhouette of you, his girlfriend, as you made your way over him, dancing along to the sound of the voices and the rhythm of the drum. You were careful with every step you took, and even though you were not the best dancer out there and was a little bit clumsy on your legs, Neteyam was absorbed. You, pretty you that he has not been able to see for two days. Pretty you that was putting your shyness aside in order to offer him the time of his life, a souvenir he would never forget. So perfect.

Soon enough, you reached him and kneeled in front of him, a slight quiver in your voice as you spoke, "Net'..."

You were breathtaking, and Neteyam was ready to fight gently disagree with anyone who would say otherwise. He took your face between his hands and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, murmuring to your ear praises and words of affection, "Love. You did so well, I'm so proud of you."

"It was all for you."

"All for me, I love the sound of it. My dear."

"My Neteyam."

He was looking at you with so much adoration that it was physically hurting you. A familiar wetness between you leg signaling that you were ready to be mated.

"Net'..." you mewled, not really knowing what you were asking for. Your ears were twitching and you tail flicking, you body was ready, and you were too, but how were you supposed to ask something so filthy when he was there to make love to you. Or so you thought.

"My perfect mate. You are gonna be the mother of my kids. I'm gonna breed you, how do you like the sound of that ? Wanna be full with our love ?" he was whispering sinfully in your ear, towering over you as he slowly and carefully started to push you to the ground, one hand on your belly as he did so. He distanced himself from you in order to look at those pretty glowing freckles and kissed each one of them before kissing you passionately.

He wanted to make love to you, really. But you were so pretty, so compliant when he dragged his hand across your braid and teased the end of it, making you whimper and moan in his mouth. He really wanted to show them all that he was just like they think he was, sweet, nice, caring. And it was true that he was all of that. But seing you so pretty under him ? He just wanted to make you scream, to let them know how mean he was to you, how mischievous he could be when it came to teasing you. He wanted to tease you all night, to fuck you on the long table for everyone to see, both of you surrounded by the evidence of your talent for hunting. He wanted you to ride him on top of the Floating Mountain in order to see your pretty cheeks glowing and match with the fluorescent vegetation. He wanted all of that, all of you. But right now, as he made eyes contact with his brother - who was frowning, he just wanted to show them all that you were his. No more lingering touches or longing stares, they would learn tonight. You can't take a warrior prize.

He slowly made his way down to your neck, licking the skin as if he was no more than a puppy reuniting with its master - but that is exactly what he was. If you were a prize, he was a fool for you, an animal, he could crawl at your feet and tame a Thanator for you. Laying his eyes on your chest, he took a minute to contemplate the complicated jewelry on your top, black beads and gemstone were all over it, the color he liked the most on you. He slowly slipped his hand under it, cupping your breast in his hand. Massaging, squeezing, he couldn't get enough of it, you were like the missing piece, you fitted him so perfectly. 

"Can you imagine it ? Sweet and hot milk dripping from here as you're nursing our child." 

His words made you cry for more. You reached out and hugged him closer to you, still letting some space so that he could continue with his ministration. As you threw you head back in pure bliss, you gaze fell upon the assembly of people behind you. They were singing Eywa's praises and some of them were looking intently at the both of you. It made you feel self-conscious but  excited. Oh so excited. You kept you eyes on them as you were whimpering your lover's praises as he was rubbing your breast from one hand and pressing your pelvis to his, grinding his hips like a horny dog. 

He was trying so hard to keep composure. He could feel their stare on him, and with that the weight of their expectation. He shouldn't lose control. No. He can't lose control. You were making it hard. In every sense of the word. Then, he noticed something. Your tail, which was previously swinging in every direction, was now on the side. Twisted on you left. Just like a fucking animal. You were ready to take him in. And it was enough to make him go feral. Sweet Neteyam gone in the blink of an eye. Now he was not a warrior, a hunter or whatever title the Omatikayas had for him. He was just a man. A simple man with his beautiful girl in front of him. What was he supposed to do ? Fuck you dumb. And that is what he was going to do.

"The tradition. Let's make it just like in the tradition." He literally growled, showing you his teeth, and then easily turn you around, one hand resting on your back and his other arm keeping your ass on his painfully erected cock. "Bend for me love. Look at them when I make you scream my name, look at Lo'ak, let him know that he will never have you. Because you're mine, my pretty little mate. So pretty from the back, so strong, so eager to carry my children, my perfect mate..."

He kissed your shoulder and bent you even more, your hips at the perfect angle for him to finally indulge in his fantasies and breed you.

"Neteyam, I see you. I always do, I always did and I will always see you. Because you are-" your declaration of love was cut short by Neteyam as he grabbed the tip of you braid, softly blowing on the hair to reveal the ligaments in it. You were feeling hot and cold at the same time, your body was falling, or was it floating ? The power that this man had on you was crazy. 

He gently tug on your hair, making you moan slightly, and finally decided to put your bottoms aside. He thrusted his hips a few more time on your ass before finally giving in the temptation as he pushed his length inside of you, making you both moan loudly and making sure to look at Lo'ak while doing so. He was being mean, rubbing it to his face, but he couldn't help himself. When his brother finally gave in and lowered his gaze he gave a few experimental thrust and roamed the area with his eyes in order to look at each man who were hitting on you lately. They all lowered their gazes and Neteyam was finally satisfied. Now, he could fuck you just like you deserved to be fuck, like his good girl.

"Ah you're so good to me..." he moaned, bending over you and licking and biting your ear before retracting to his previous position. He gently grabbed your tail and rubbed it while thrusting into you at an increasing pace. The Omatikayans were reaching the end of the song and the beat of the drum was getting faster and louder. All of this were making you hurried, excited, you were both going at it like animals.

"Ah ! You- You are going too fast, Net'. Neteyam !" you moaned, hiding your flushed face between your hands as your body was swaying back and forth.

"Hum ? Love ? I can't hear you, you- you want me to stop ?"

"No, please, please, Neteyam, love me !"

"I- " he groaned, granting you with rough snaps of his hips, his heart filled with joy and love for you. "I love you too, I see you... All mine, displayed for everyone to see. Yeah, you're mine, my mate."

He slowed his pace and grabbed your braid, looking for a sign in your eyes. And when he finally found it, he took his braid and slowly approached the end of it. Slowly, the filament intertwined and connected to each other, making you gasp. For a second you thought that you could see pictures of your past and you future flash before your eyes but it was soon drown by the weird but Oh! so delightful feeling of an extra appendice, right between your leg. Your body and your mind was connected to Neteyam's one, you were able to feel everything and so did he. It was delightful, exhilarating, blissful. Even when everyone was scrutinizing you and your lover, being the witnesses of your love for each other, you two were in your own world, feeling twice as much pleasure than before. 

"Look at him." Neteyam found the strength to laugh, gently grabbing your hair and turning your head toward his brother. "Mouth it."

Half lidded eyes met big round eyes. Both of your freckles were glowing, face flushed and lips parted. Lo'ak was looking at you. No, he was devouring you. he was enjoying this, because he knew he could never have you. "My Neteyam..." you whispered as an orgasm ripped through your body, making you both completely fall on the ground as Neteyam was also victim of this atrocious and breathtaking orgasm. He filled you up to the brim and pumped his cum in you a few more times before engulfing you in his warm embrace, peppering your face with soft kisses.

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 precice 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 close 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. 

You're Giran's assistant. While he acted aloof around you, as he did with most people, he actually gave a bit of a damn about you. He'd known you since you were a kid. The daughter of a guy he'd grown up with. He groomed you for the broker business. While you never made the deals, he was the face of the business after all, you helped him procure things that were requested of him. Be that items or people.

He'd give you the details and you'd fetch whatever the customer was looking for. You'd also keep an eye out for anything that may benefit Giran in the long run. You were always in the background, but you loved the life. No matter how glamorous it tended not to be. You were even the one who found Toga. Well, she found you technically. Though you never went to all the meets, especially when it came to the League of Villains, everyone knew you worked with Giran.

He'd never bring you along to those dealings if he had his way. Giran knew that would become harder to do once you knew of the existence of Shigaraki Tomura, however. Even with Kurogiri present Giran knew that Shigaraki was unpredictable and wouldn't risk having you in his sights. A seasoned vet like him even bolted as soon as he got payment.

You knew your luck was changing the night Giran got the call. It sounded like a regular one, Giran responding with "yeah" and "uh huh" now and then. Suddenly he sat up straighter, much more tense than before. Finally, he ended the call with "Alright. I'll let her know. Thanks." Your head snapped to him and you watched intently as he hung up. He sighed and immediately pulled out a new smoke. "Well?!", you commented with unbridled excitement.

"That was Kurogiri." Your eyes widened. Your giddy feelings dialed down a bit, knowing that you might be turned down. Giran took another drag before continuing. "Says he had to clear it wit' the big guy in charge first, but ya can head over tomorrow night. Apparently the League has a few days off to lay low for a bit."

You briefly wonder what the All For One thinks about you wanting to visit with Shigaraki, but he must think it's something alright for the villain. Those thoughts don't last too long with your excited nerves already building. "Thank you!", you squeal as you leap over to Giran and pull him in close for a hug and kiss his cheek. "Yeah, yeah.", he sighs but you can see the workings of a small smile on his lips. "Don't say I don' do nothin' for ya."

The time finally comes despite it seeming like the hours ticked by slower than normal. You know it's just your excitement building, but it was torture none the less. You park down the street and take a few deep breaths to ease your nerves. Before you get out of your car you notice a few figures walk out of the very bar you intend on walking into. You recognize them as League members, and you figure they've been let go for the night to enjoy the free time you were told about. Some leaving together, like Toga and Twice; others heading out alone, namely Dabi.

You exit the vehicle and head over to the bar door. You steel your nerves and find whatever confidence you can to not seem so anxious. When you step inside it's pretty much what you were expecting. Nothing to write home about. A man with black smoke where his head would be turns and focuses his yellow eyes your way. You can only assume that's Kurogiri.

The very man you came to see sat quietly at the bar facing him. You notice a few newspapers laying around the bar top nearby, as well as a glass of amber liquid. You can't help but stare at the slender figure of the guy you've come to have a crush on. "You must be the young lady Giran called about." You nod as you take a few timid steps closer to the pair. "Yeah, that's me."

"This is Shigaraki Tomura.", he says as he extends his hand to point him out even though he's the only other person in the room. You give your name and wait for Shigaraki to acknowledge you. That turns out to be a number of excruciating minutes later. It's when Kurogiri clears his throat and lowly tells him "Don't be rude." Finally, Shigaraki sighs as if he's being burdened and turns his head in your direction.

He sits up a little straighter after taking in your appearance. He still has Father over his face, but he actually removes the hand to get a better look of you. You notice his ruby gaze move over your form, but he doesn't make any expression that shows he's impressed. However that turns out to be just the case. He is impressed.

You're infinitely cuter than he expected.

After staring at you for a few moments you finally hear him speak. "Giran said you like video games." His voice is higher pitched and raspy, but you can't help but find it cute regardless. "Yeah, I do.", you reply happily. You internally facepalm at your reaction. You must seem like a lame fangirl. It is almost too hard for him to take your bright eyes and girly admiration that's clear on your face. Almost.

"Well...Wanna play?" You nod your head emphatically and watch him rise to his feet. He places Father on the bar top for Kurogiri to look after. He eyes you one more time before turning to walk in the direction of a doorway towards the back. He doesn't say anything as he goes, simply waves you along after he starts walking. "Come on, little girl." Though you're elated he's willing to hang out with you, you narrow your eyes as you hurry to follow after him.

Shigaraki walks through the doorway and turns to head up a narrow set of stairs. "I'm not a little girl.", you chide him and he turns to glance back at you. He's almost appalled at the fact you're challenging him but can't seem to help find it endearing. He's not sure yet if he likes that you're growing on him after just meeting you.

Shigaraki simply replies with "whatever" as he turns back and continues up the stairs. He leads you to a room at the end of a bleak hallway. It's pretty bare: nothing on the walls, a single twin bed with crumpled white sheets, a closet and door that was ajar enough to show a small bathroom. One corner stood out as noticeably different than the rest.

There was a small flat screen television that's hooked up to a state-of-the-art gaming system. A few quality controllers sit next to it, and a nice, comfortable gaming chair topped off the area. "Woww.", you whisper in a hushed breath. Shigaraki takes in your impressed expression and feels the swelling of pride begin in his chest. Right where his heart would be to be exact. He wasn't even sure he could feel things in that part of his body anymore.

He points towards a plethora of games stacked in piles nearby. You find the collection he has both extensive and impressive. "Kurogiri said I should let you pick first. Something about being the guest." You nod and look over the titles. "How 'bout we start with this one?", you question as you pull the case out of a stack to show him the cover.

It's an older game. A first-person shooter zombie killing game to be specific. To his own surprise he's genuinely pleased with the selection you choose. It's 'an oldie but a goodie'. Definitely a classic that just so happens to be one of his favorites. He just nods and instructs you to set it up. You think about how he must be used to ordering people around as you work. Somehow only finding it more attractive of him.

Shigaraki goes over to a mini fridge and pulls out two sodas. He's once again confused when he comes back over and asks if what he pulled out for you is alright. Why does he even care? You accept the offered drink and finish setting everything up. Of course he takes the gaming chair after sliding a worn-out bean bag chair over for you to sit in. Naturally. It doesn't bother you, though. The two of you then begin a campaign that grows in intensity as time goes by.

You end up playing together longer than either of you expect. He loves how enthralled in the game you become, and you just so happen to be better than he even anticipated. He watches you out of the corner of his eye during the gameplay. You're certainly funny and make even cuter faces the more you get into it, especially when you're concentrating.

He doesn't seem to notice you doing the same as you take the opportunity to watch him in your peripherals. You already know he's cute, so you take notice of his hands. He grips the controllers with a pinky on each hand raised. It amazes you how much of an expert he is in doing so. It doesn't even seem to bother him in the slightest.

After yet another playthrough he sets down his controller and stretches his arms over his head. You do the same as you rise up off the bean bag. Afterward he pulls out his cellphone and you watch as he seemingly types out a text. "Do you drink?" The question catches you by surprise and you mumble out a quick reply with "Uh, yeah, I do."

His phone is already away when a minute later there's a single knock at his door before it's pushed open to reveal Kurogiri. He steps into the room and puts a tray down on the end table beside the bed that has a bottle and two empty glasses resting on it. He straightens up after filling the small glasses and he looks over to you two. "I do hope things are going well." You feel your face heat up slightly but nod still. "Yeah, fine.", Shigaraki says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Kurogiri takes that as his que to leave and nods before walking out. Leaving the pair of you alone once more. Shigaraki suddenly finds himself nervous and scratches his neck. That's when he realized that it was the first time he's done so since coming into his room and playing with you. Why were you able to do that to him?

Shigaraki doesn't allow the atmosphere to become awkward. He isn't sure what to say so he goes over to pick up one of the drinks Kurogiri poured. He only takes a sip or two before he sees you looking at him and he waves you over to join him. You make your way next to him and pick up your own glass. His eyes widen as the liquid seems to slide down your throat with ease.

After taking a gulp you place your nearly empty glass back down. You watch as Shigaraki keeps his own gaze locked onto yours. He brings the edge of his glass up to his lips, never breaking eye contact, and takes a larger gulp just as you had. You found yourself getting lost in his crimson eyes. Before you could register what you were doing and stop yourself you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him.

Shigaraki immediately froze at your actions. He gasped and you were able to slide your tongue inside his mouth to engage with his own. He was clumsy with it. Clearly evident that he was inexperienced. You cracked open your lidded eyes slightly to see him staring down at you wide eyed. Still in shock you mused to yourself.

With your eyes closed once more you felt him tilt down to the side and heard the click of his glass being put down. That's when you felt it. His hands tentatively placed on your hips. After a few moments their grip gets a bit tighter before you feel him smooth them around your back to pull you impossibly closer to him. Even with his hands behind you, you could feel his four fingers of each hand.

When you two finally part for breath, he doesn't take long before he's chasing your lips for another kiss. After a hearty make out session you sense him start to lower himself onto his bed. You stop kissing and look down when you hear the familiar clicking of a belt buckle. Shigaraki lets out a low chuckle with a dark look in his eye. "Why don' you be a good little slut 'n suck my cock. I'd like that, 'n I jus' know you'd like it too."

Your hot core instantly throbs at his words, and you grind your thighs together before you lower yourself to your knees. He's right, after all. You slide his pants and boxers down in one go. His legs are slim but toned. It's obvious he's strong, but unassuming looking. You think about how Heroes could underestimate him and come to find they're sorely mistaken.

When his cock springs free into your face your mouth waters. It's long and slim, like him, but curved just right. You gingerly take him in your hand and give him a few preliminary pumps to test his reaction. As soon as you take him in your hand it's obvious he tenses and give the subtlest jerk of his hips. He's already panting in anticipation and you've hardly started. You can't wait to see how else he'll react.

You give him a moment to gather himself. That's when you go for it and lick up his long shaft before pecking his tip and gathering the bead of pre that was present there on your lips. You hear the hiss he lets out as he sucks in a breath through his teeth at your initial motions. You watch him, keeping his ruby eyes locked with yours, as you sink down and wrap your mouth around him as low as you can at first. It's not balls deep quite yet, but you'll get there.

You bob up and down, sucking him off for the first few minutes. Then you bring yourself down as low as you can to get him as far back in your throat as possible. You're still looking up at Shigaraki as you watch his head throw back in ecstacy. Then you feel him grip hold of your hair at the top of your head. He's got a fistful as he pumps your head up and down to throat fuck him.

You picture it in your head. The slight sheen of sweat beginning to gather along his forehead. His eyebrows narrowed in concentration. The clump of hair he's gripping on to with a pinky raised. One wrong move of him lowering his pinky, especially while he's distracted like this, means the end for you. Painfully.

That's the thought that makes your pussy wet to the point it could pool on the floor underneath you.

He's doesn't though. Even with his mind fogged with lust and concentrating on not finishing in your tight, wet mouth too soon. He's grunting so much you could tell he's close, especially by the twitch of his cock in your mouth. Suddenly he's squeezing your shoulders and when you stop and look at him he's slowly pulling you off him. You're about to ask if he needed you to do something different, or stop all together (to your dismay), but he simply tries to catch his breath before speaking. "T-take off your clothes. Then you're going to stand up 'n bend over the edge of the bed."

You let out a mewl at his instructions and obediently rise to your feet. That has the spark of life going right to his cock, keeping him ready and twitching without your sweet mouth satisfying him. You really are his little obedient slut, aren't you? He couldn't be more satisfied with the decision to allow you two to meet. If it's half as satisfying to fuck into your heat as it was your mouth, he's going to have a harder time concentrating on anything else important.

Shigaraki swallows hard when he sees your naked form, timid and shy before him. He doesn't know where to look first. He figures he'll start with your beautiful face and work his way down your sexy body. He runs his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. His cock twitches yet again the way your eyes are shining with elation at him and how it's clear you're waiting for his next command.

"Good girl.", he coos as he takes one finger and tugs a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You hum in response and wait for him to continue. To tell you what you should do next. "Bend over the edge of the bed. I want your ass on display." You nod and obey as you get right into position and Shigaraki resists the urge to groan at how good you're being for him.

Once you're bent over, resting on his bed with your forearms, you wait to see what's going to happen next. You jolt when you feel him swipe a finger up through your folds and gather some of your slick. Since he's behind you, the only evidence of what he did next was the hmm of delight and the pop when he removed his finger from his mouth.

"You taste real good, Player Two." That let out another mewl from you and a grind of your legs at his words. Your heart was beating rapidly and you're sure if you pulled it out of your chest it'd go soaring. He actually thought of you as his "player two". Suddenly his was groping handfuls of your asscheeks. When he slowly, almost reluctantly, pulled his hands away you jolted again when you felt one of his hands fly down to swat your ass.

Hiding the moan that came flying out of your mouth would've been impossible to repress. Shigaraki let out a dark chuckle as he leaned closer to your ear. "You're still lovin' this, huh?", he questioned with a teasing tone. Out of nowhere, another spank. This time of the other cheek. Afterward, he smoothed his hands over the red area.

You could hear him chortle as he did so. "I noticed you were lookin' at my hands." His voice was now lower yet still raspy. "You get off on the fact that it's so dangerous to be around me." Another slap on your ass. "Spanking is jus' as dangerous. One wrong move. Just one time I come down too hard and that pinky could fall. You love that, huh?"

Another spanking, followed by loud, unholy moan from you. He's right, he could kill you on any one of the come down he does. His index and middle fingers slid down to run through your soaked folds. "I knew it. You're a danger slut. Aren'cha?" Suddenly he gripped the back of your hair and pulled you up to stand in front of his with your back against his chest as he kisses your neck.

"I knew you were special. Master said I'd have a playmate, but I didn't believe him. I should've known he'd make sure I'd have a sweet thing like you."

He turned your head to the side so he could vigorously kiss your mouth. When a few seconds was up he roughy pushed you down onto his bed. You look back at him and see that he's working his hard length once again. "Lay on your back. 'M gonna fuck you." You crawl up his bed and flop onto your side before turning over to your back. Your legs still rubbing together for some friction.

Suddenly you see him standing at the edge of the side of his bed. He's scratching his neck and it's obvious he's trying to say something, or at least convey something important. Finally, he speaks when he lowly states that, "I-I don't have a c-condom." His cheeks are red with embarrassment that spreads to the tips of his ears and down his neck.

You simply hum in understanding before you lean up and cup his face to reply to him. "That's okay.", you comment in a sincere tone. "You don't have to worry about anything. Just finish whenever you feel like you're ready." He eyes you for a moment and allows you to pull him in for a short but sweet kiss. He nods this time and crawls over your body to lay parallel with you.

Shigaraki sits back on his knees and watches as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds as it gathers an abundance of the delicious slick. That's when he aims it at your tight hole and begins to push inside you, sometimes having to thrust to give it an extra push into your core. He feels your gummy walls tight around him and he swears he could blow any time now.

So he steels himself, bringing his hands to hold under your thighs and push them up a bit. "Think I'll lose track and drop my last finger down?" You know he's taunting you, but it makes you wetter and clench all the same. The clamping down on him has him reeling as he bends over you to place one hand next to your head on his bed. He has to give a few more thrusts before he's mostly inside you. "Fuck, you're so wet.", he exclaims before figuring 'screw it' and plunges his cock balls deep into your guts.

"Such a good Player Two. Taking me so well. You're gonna lay there and take it and scream like a good girl, right?" Any words were long gone for you to respond with. You'd hardly gotten started, and your brain was fuzzy. You can't even imagine how you'll be after he fucks you senseless. You simply did what you could and nodded as you wrapped your arms around his frame.

Even though he was kind of clumsy, it was obvious this was a first time for him. One of his first times anyway. He was a fast learner and had little trouble satisfying you. Especially once he learned what that kink of yours was.

Shigaraki stared into your eyes and then kissed you roughly. As he pumped his cock into your tightening cunt, he brought a hand up to your throat. One pinky raised yet again of course. That's when he saw your eyes roll back and felt that pussy of yours clench him like a vice. "You love how dangerous I am. How I could kill you in the blink of an eye. There'd be nothing left of you. Nothin' left of this gorgeous body of yours." He chortled as if amused but seemed to carry a different aura about him as he went on. "That'd be a real shame. Your'e my Player Two after all. Giving me your body so freely."

"Yes, yes, YES!!", was all you could scream. It was true anyway. All of it. He drove you wild, especially like this. You wanted him and could only pray he'd have you to take again and again. "Such a slut. My little cum slut, right?" You nod again, briefly this time, knowing his hand was still on your throat.

He picked up his pace as he bullied your tight pussy. "Oh God!", he commented breathless and panting. "Such a sweet obedient girl. Ready to take her Master's cock." He feels your pillowy walls tighten around him and encourages you to continue. "Cum on my cock sweet thing. Do it." As he drilled into you, you were on the verge but still hadn't cum yet. He knew just what would send you over the edge.

With a stern voice, he once again demanded you cum on his cock. "...Or I'm gonna dust you for good measure.", he growled. That sent you over the edge and you clamped down the hardest and began to milk him dry. "Gah..c-cum-cummin'!" He was lost in his own post sex haze as he filled you with his colors, branding you his. "G-good girl.", he pants. "That's my good girl. All mine."

Your heart swells at his words and once the two of you come down from your highs, he slowly pulls out of you with a hiss. You're left there on your back, a panting mess when he rolls off you and awkwardly hands you some paper towels from nearby so you can wipe yourself up. You quickly do so and see him reach his hand out to take them back.

Watching closely as he walks over to a trash can and dusts the now tarnished rags in his hand to let them fall into the can. You had begun to sit up and look around for your clothes when he clears his throat. "You, uh, you can stay if ya want." You head flies to his direction and a smile begins to pull at your lips. "I'd like that."

Slowly and apprehensively, as if giving you the chance to change your mind, he climbs into bed and lays his arms over your head for you to curl into his naked body so he can wrap that arm around you. You glance up to him to see him eying you timidly. "Thank you." After a few comfortable moments of silence Shigaraki speaks up. "I think I should be thanking you, Player Two."

You giggle a bit into his skin before looking up to meet his eyes again. Now it's your turn to be timid. "Am... A-am I really you're Player Two." That's when Shigaraki was caught off guard. He scratches his throat a bit. He was fine with considering that of you, especially during the act. With one finger he moves a strand of hair that had fallen over your forehead and into your eyes. "Yeah. I guess ya are. Wouldn't mind it as long as it's you anyway."

The smile you gave him in response had his chest twisting in a way he never had happen to him before. He'd need to time to figure it out, but he knew he wanted you close regardless. Especially after the excursions that just occurred. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to rest on him.

After a few quiet moments, you broke the serenity surrounding the two of you with a simply question. "Does this mean I'm gonna be meetin' the League?" Shigaraki groaned and ran his opposite hand down his face. "I'd like to keep ya all to myself a little longer if that's alright with ya." You widen you smile before tucking your head back into his chest to nuzzle into him. All you do is simply comment with a quiet "yours" before sleep begins to overtake you.

Shigaraki didn't know what to do but just hold you against him. He'd hold you for as long as he could. He'd try to keep his finger positions in check, and hold back his overwhelming need to kill to keep his scratching in check.

No matter how much you liked being so close to death.

You clear your throat, grabbing the pair of black gloves that sat on top of the materials. You hand the sake bottle over to Ulquiorra, your eyes never leaving his as you work one hand into the set of gloves.

Grimmjow lowly whistles to himself, feeling the growing tension arise in the room between the both of you. “Here you guys go again, eye fucking each other.” he chuckles, jumping onto the pool table and shoving the solid 4 into one of the holes.

“Shut up!” you warn, turning your back on the both of them. Setting up the small station, trying to keep your snarky comments to yourself.

“Funny.” Ulquiorra comments with an eye roll, silently flipping off the light blue haired espada.

“One of you wanted to get this piercing—“

“Key word: one.” Ulquiorra draws out, giving you a stoic glare, crossing his arms over his chest as he relaxes into the wooden chair.

“Not my fault you simply can’t beat mister rowdy ass over there?” you shrug, walking over to him with a paper towel and marker in your hands. “He always chooses paper, y’know, it’s easy.” you lean over a bit, grabbing one of his hands and holding it up. You place a paper towel on the palm of his hand, letting it hover below his chin as you rub your lips together in thought.

He raises a brow, “What’s this for?”

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.” you drly command, ignoring his question.

“You have a way with your words, Y/n. It’s cute.” Grimmjow flirts, wiggling his brows at the man that sat in the wooden chair, but stopped once he didn’t get the reaction he wanted. You shake your head and roll your eyes, uncapping the marker in one motion.

You raise a brow at Ulquiorra, cocking your head to the side as he sticks his tongue out. You swallow the bubble in your throat, trying to think of something else other than his tongue and how you wanted it to feel up against the coolness of your neck. Your crude thoughts sent a shiver down your spine as you dab the marker on the perfect spot in the center of his tongue.

“Keep your tongue out. Gotta grab the needle.” you mumble, keeping your gaze trained on your gloved hands and not the way he stares at you. Trying your best to gather the materials quickly without fumbling over your own two feet as you try to focus on the soft melody of the song that plays softly in the background.

You stand in front of the black haired male, thinking of a proper way to get this task over without embarrassing yourself. Except, your idiot best friend had already caught on, the dire situation was no longer in your control, it simply was playing out how he wanted it too. “Excuse me.” Grimmjow snickers, excusing himself as he tries his best to hold in the laughter but you hear his laugh echo through the shut door as you hover over the man that sat in the chair.

You pull away once you hear the door click shut, “I can’t see.” you pout, giving him a visible frown.

“Sit on me.” he replies with a clueless shrug. You nearly choke on your words, raising your brows in shock. You always knew he said things that had no meaning, but here recently you didn’t know if the constant teasing was out of spite or was it a sign.

You blink quickly, going over the three words he just said. Lightly gnawing on your lip, you let out a shaky, “Okay.”

You nervously swallow, wrapping both of your legs around him. You watch the paper towel fall slowly towards the ground, the bottle of sake now sitting at the edge of the pool table as his hands firmly grip your waist. Your very own heart starts to thump quickly in your ears, keeping your gaze trained on the way his drool fell onto his shirt.

You clear your throat, “On three?” you ask him quietly but he shakes his head ‘no.’

You nod, counting in your head as you watch the needle pierce his tongue. He didn’t flinch but you quickly studied his face for any discomfort, as you pushed yourself off of him. You grab the silver jewelry, giving him a small smile as you quickly replace the needle with the jewelry. Holding the end pinched between your fingers as he pulls you back onto his lap. Your chest colliding with his, makes you yelp in surprise, placing your hands on his shoulders.

You watch him grab the bottle off from the side, your shaky gloved hands working against each other as you roll the end, attaching it to the back. You take off one of the gloves and toss it onto the pool table. Ignoring the funny feeling starting to churn in the pit of your stomach.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asks you, playing with the ends of your shirt, his eyes studying your nervous state with a small smirk.

You chuckle drly, scratching the back of your neck, shrugging as you let your free hand slip off his shoulder. He did and everyone knew that. You’re lucky enough, you weren’t backing yourself into a corner and ignoring everyone’s gaze, especially his. He makes you feel things not even yourself could explain, always telling yourself that he would never understand or even harber those feelings back to you. But he always stares at you with such need and desperation, that it gives you some sort of hope.

You swallow thickly, “You do but, uh, it’s not a you thing. It’s more of a me thing.” you reply, looking over to the side as you hear him hum.

“If I did this,” he pauses, leaning closer towards your neck, startling you as you feel his tongue glide over the front of your throat. The coolness of the fresh jewelry feels wrong, deceiving almost. He had just gotten it pierced but you knew he didn't care about infection. Anything to get you aroused, he knows how badly you want him, and you have your best friend to thank. You shudder, forming closed fists into his shirt as you hold back the whimper. “Do I still make you nervous?”

“It’s going to get infected,” you pout, clutching your legs harder around him as you bite the inside corner of your lip. One of your hands grabbed the bottle of sake off from the table, swirling it around a bit as you ignored the lingering question he had just asked you once again. “It won’t stop bleeding.” you softly whisper, taking a sip of the sake as you hover over Ulquiorra. He sticks his tongue out one once more, watching you through his lashes, his fingers curling into your sides as you spit the sake onto his wound. You watch the liquor drip off of his chin and onto his shirt, it soaking in with the dried blood. “Better.”

Ulquiorra moans, not ashamed of the feeling, hooking two fingers underneath your chin, pulling your face closer towards his as his lips lightly ghost over yours. “Such a dangerous game you've just started.” he murmurs, green eyes staring up at you with lust.

You hum, “A game?” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips ghost over his ear, “Just kiss me.” you utter breathlessly, nipping at the shell of his ear.

He grunts in your ear, grabbing your chin roughly, kissing your lips hungrily, his fingers tangling themselves in the loose ends of your t-shirt. You tug at the bottom of his lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth, working your fingers through the ends of his hair. The taste of his blood enters your mouth, the mixture of drool and blood slipping from both of your mouths. You moan into the kiss, grinding yourself into him, as he kisses your jaw roughly. His teeth dragging along the side of your jaw, looking at you as his hands slip up your shirt.

You break away from the kiss, shrugging off your shirt as his fingers brush against your skin, a small chuckle emits from his lips at your needy reaction. He lifts up your chin slowly, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip teasingly.

Looking at him through your lashes, you pull away from his touch, “This is a bad idea.” you murmur, covering yourself as you try to get out of his strong grip.

He leans back into the chair, one hand straddling you as his other drags down the front of your chest. “You think everything is a bad idea,” he whispers, he looks at you briefly, turning his gaze back onto your breasts in the black laced bra. “It’s my turn to get what I want.”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat as his fingers unclasps the bra in one swift motion. You watch it lazily land on one of the sofas from across the room. You hope no one walks back into the game room, the both of you would never hear the end of it but a part of you wanted to get caught.

“Ulqui—“ you groan, a tremor going up your spine as the cold air hits your skin. He hums against you as he drags his lips over the sensitive parts of your chest.

He stops, turning his head slightly as he admires the shining jewelry. “How long have you had these?” he asks with a small smirk, his fingers playing with the small jewelry that were on both of your nipples.

“Doesn’t matter,” you sigh, giving him an eye roll but he pulls away, mimicking you as he starts to grope them both with his hands. “You’re ridiculous! I got them last year.” you fluster, hitting his chest lightly.

“I’m sure you’ll be the ridiculous one after this, babe.” he teases, his long fingers rolling your nipple as he kneads the other in his hand. You bite down on your tongue, holding back the small moan of ecstasy as he takes one of your breasts into his mouth.

Here you were, regretting your words, your actions, and the decision to pierce Ulquiorra’s tongue. You were in fact the ridiculous one, sprawled out onto the pool table, and moaning his name. His hands grip the sides of your waist, as you roll your hips against his mouth. Legs trembling around his shoulders, as he suckles on the sensitive bud. You throw your head back into the table, closing your eyes, as loud moans leave your lips.

“F-fuck!” you yelp, digging your fingers deeply into his scalp as you press down onto his head.

He hums, lapping up the small droplets of cum, as he curls two fingers inside of you. Lewd squelches filling the room, mixes with your moans making him groan out in need. “You’re so beautiful.” he murmurs to himself, pressing his thumb against your clit in a teasing manner. Looking down at you as he presses his mouth against your cunt, slurping up every little droplet as he picks up the pace. The sounds of your moans were music to his ears, a sound he will never forget.

You let out a pleasurable groan, “Ulqui! M’gonna“ mouth agape slowly, as you clench your thighs harder around him.

He looks up at you, smirking against your soaking cunt, his tongue brushing against your folds as he pulls you closer to him. “Ridiculous,” he utters, pulling himself away from you, prying your legs off of him. “You’re so ridiculous, cumming on my tongue like that.”

You close your legs in shame, “You made a mess.” you utter, giving him a small lingering pout.

Your face warmed and you puffed your cheeks. “Who says I couldn’t be one! Is it because of the hair? Y’know, yours is dyed too, right.”

A whisper of a laugh gusted from between his lips. “Yeah, yeah. So, you coming or what? We’ve got booze.”

Throughout your life, you were guided by one principle and one principle only: to seek pleasure wherever you could. From the tattoos, to the hair to the piercings, and the daily benders running high on illegal substances and alcholic fumes, not much bases were left for you touch on. 

Except this one.

You squirmed in your seat, tugging the hem of your short skirt down. Mikey’s words flashed in your mind, and you thought it over. While the topic of a woman’s virginity was a touchy one, it did not bode well that someone could casually remark on it. Even if that person was your friend.

Mikey sensed your mood souring, and from the jut of your chin and he knew you what you were going to say before you said it. 

“Yeah, fine.” You stuck out your tongue and swiped at a stray piece of strawberry from his sundae, squishing the sweet fruit between your teeth. Ruby red juice trickled down your chin, and you were too busy chewing to notice how Mikey’s onyx eyes darkened. “Do I have to abide by some stupid dress code or something?” 

Mikey leaned back, arm perched on the dessert shop’s head rest, a smirk quirking his thin lips.

“Sexy. That’s the dress code. Think you can handle that?”

You were going to make Mikey eat his words. 

The moon played hide and seek tonight, releasing its breath in the pattering of tiny drops that reminded you of static from an empty television. A world on the precipice of slipping into an unending darkness. 

Head to toe, you were wrapped in a leather bodycon dress, the likes of which would’ve made a nun clutch her rosary if you breezed past. Dousing yourself in a musky, jasmine fragrance, you fluffed up your hair and took one good look at yourself in the mirror. Despite the chill and the sudden uneasiness of tonight, you had to admit this one undeniable fact. 

Damn, I look fucking hot. You turned your body slightly to catch the rise of your ass, smiling in self-satisfaction how your panty line was clearly visible. So was the stiffening of your nipples behind the buttery, black material. You looked like sin incarnate, and there was no way Mikey could say you were not putting in an effort if you turned up like this. 

Hailing a cab, you tried to ignore how the driver’s eyes were on you the whole time. Your red-stained lips pursed into a defiant pout, willing for him to stop the car and try. You’ve got your pepper spray with you and a host of other self-defence tools. Let’s see if that slimy bastard could drive with one eye gouged out from your Swiss Army knife.

The address Mikey gave you was somewhere in the outskirts of the city, pretty close to the mountains and far away enough from civilisation. 

“A cold night, isn’t it?” 

You snapped back from your reverie to glance at the old man’s eyes from the rearview mirror.

“Huh?” 

“Coldest night in Autumn,” he nudged his head towards the blackened streets, illuminated eeriely by orange streetlamps. It seemed as if you two were the only living souls in sight. “Some say its when the veil between the dead and the living becomes the thinnest.”

You cracked a smile, though with your painted red lips, it came off as a sneer. “Don’t tell me you actually believe in all that crap.”

The driver chuckled at your bold statement. “My dear, when you’ve lived as long as I did on the road, shuffling people back and forth, you start to realise that these legends have a grain of truth to them.”

The Yūrei were tales told by mothers to keep their kids in line. Anyone who believed them after the age of five was just plain weird.

But, you held your tongue, not wanting to insult this man’s belief, no matter how silly it was. “I see. You must have seen a lot in your time.”

Unfortunately for him (and fortunately for you), the car slowed. A looming, nondescript double-storey house stood before you, lit from within warmly with yellow lights, glowing like a woman’s hidden crush. You paid your cab fare and stepped out, fighting off a chill.

The old man was right—it was the coldest day of the season. Every step you took echoed almost forlornly on the cobblestone path, and you felt your gut tightening the closer you got to the door. This did not seem like a party.

You were an almost a connoisseur with these soirees, and the fact that silence pervaded what was supposed to be a celebration was frankly disconcerting.

The warning voice in your head was too loud to ignore. You almost doubled back and booked it for the next cab, planning on texting Mikey that something came up when a deep voice stopped you.

“Y/N?” 

Turning around, you were met with a pair of amused lilac eyes. Luxury personified, he was dripping in a velvet purple suit with gold trimming and had neatly slicked-back hair that reminded you of a Trolls doll at a prom. Who is he? You plastered on a smile, backtracking.

“Y-yeah. Do I know you?”

“I’m Mikey’s friend.” Something felt off-kilter about the gleam of his smile. It reminded you of a dull blade—the edges were blunt, but if you pressed hard enough, you could cut yourself from the curiosity. A predator’s beam. 

He chuckled and leaned back against the wall, appraising your scantily-clad form. “If you would’ve told me Mikey had a hot friend who pulled up like this, I would’ve made a better effort at dressing up.”

You hid your discomfort with a smile. “I mean, you scrubbed up pretty well. I feel like I’m the one that’s underdressed.”

His eyes flickered to your hardening nipples. He touched the tip of his tongue to the corner of his mouth for the briefest moments, an oily smirk rising from the sharp, defined ridges of his features. 

“Do you want to come in? You must be freezing.”

A tremor you could not fight back took over you, trembling your core and chattering your teeth. You shot him a grateful smile, the wobble in your lower lip endearing. “Sure.” 

“The name’s Ran.” He took your hand, not to shake it, but to press his lips to the soft underside of your wrist. Your stomach churned and you tugged your hand away, about to chastise him loudly when another voice cut through your jumbling thoughts. 

“Stop being a creep to our guest.” Mikey’s voice lifted the fog in your mind, and you drank in his appearance. In a similar black suit, his cufflinks neatly pressed to his wrists reminding you of a Victorian gentleman, Mikey had on a ghost of a smile for you. “I see you’ve met Ran, our resident flirt.”

The man in question chuckled. “You wound me, Mikey. I am not a flirt.”

“You are, too.” 

Another voice, another man. You flickered your gaze to a man who looked similar to Ran, except with a lilac mullet streaked with darker shades of purple. His suit was pristine, a striped magenta tie adding to his polished sophistication, though his gaze remained at half-mast, giving him a perpetually bored air. 

With their eyes on you, there was little you could fight off the feeling that you were practically naked in front of them. 

“What’s all this commotion about?” You gulped at the sight of the latest addition.

A scar rifted down his face, over one white eye and with another vermillion orb firmly drinking in your uncomfortable expression. The next man was handsome in a roughened, roguish kind of way—the kind that a sleek black, double-breasted designer suit with a red tie could not help polish. 

His waves of midnight blue brushing his cheek, he turned towards another man with long, white locks and a tattoo on the shaved portion of his head, dressed similarly in an immaculate red suit with vermillion eyeliner sharpening his eyes. 

Bonten right in the flesh.

You stared past their broad shoulders towards the other room, your nerves palpable. The floor hummed from the vibrations of a speaker spewing out underground bass, but there was no one enjoying it. In fact, it felt like you were the only person on the entire guest list.

As if reading your unease, Mikey chuckled. “The main party is further inside. This is Ran’s villa and his mom hates noise. Come.”

His brisk invitation sounded more like a command, and you were placed in a tight spot. These gorgeous men lingered at the foyer, waiting for you to make up your mind. You took one look at their fit builds and handsome features and gulped. What was the worst that could happen?

Maybe you could even score someone to finally rid you of your virginity tonight. 

The thought bouyed you—leaving you susceptible enough to accept an offered glass of whiskey.

Other girls were there, too, as scantily-clad as you were. Some of them smiled. Others frowned at your choice of attire, as if they were not cut from the same clothe, technically speaking.

You forgot about them. I want to loosen up. Gulp after gulp of alcohol slipped down your easing throat. You almost lost sight of why you were uenasy in the first place. I feel fine.

The music fractured, like a broken toy unwinding, and you stumbled in your heels. A hand caught you, steady and sure. 

His smile was the kindest amongst the men here, soothing you. Calm. That was how you felt around him.

“Easy there,” Kakucho murmured, making sure you were able to balance yourself on your feet before he let you go. 

“I’m—hic—fine. Thank you.”

The scarred man’s empathy never faltered, lulling you into a false sense of comfort. He tugged your arm. “Come on. I know where we can sober up.”

You had no choice but to stumble after him. The world tilted. Shifted. You offhandedly wondered what was in your drink. Like a skittish foal, you trailed after him, looking over your shoulder. The janky sensation that you were being watched did not allude you. 

He led you down a darkened hallway, straight towards a bolted door. Voices murmured from the other end, and he gestured for you to go in first. The design of the handle intrigued you—a gryffin’s claw, and you twisted it, entering a dimly lit room. Candles were placed all around, and a few of Mikey’s friends perked up once you entered.

Someone handed you a drink and you took it uncertainly, sipping on the strong liquid. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Ran waved from his perch on a velvet sofa chair. Kokonoi was blowing smoke in circles around him, the air smelling heavily of nicotine. “Why don’t you come over here and sit with us?” 

Kokonoi shifted a little to the side and you ambled over towards them. An obedient little lamb. The minute you made to sit down, Ran tugged you onto his lap, the semi-chub under his pants chuffing your barely-clad pussy. You realised a second too late that you were the only woman in this room.

Ran nudged you closer, the act dragging your clothed clit against his zipper. You winced and sucked your teeth, catching his attention. “You okay?” Fidgeting on his lap, you nodded.

“That’s one of Mikey’s best whiskey,” Kokonoi nodded towards the glass in your hand. “You should drink up before it becomes too diluted.”

You dutifully did as he said. Slurping the stinging drink down one gulp at a time. The lights flickered in your periphery. Your body felt heavy—much too heavy—and your tongue was glued to the roof of your mouth. Swallowing, you suddenly felt a prominent ache in between your legs and the idea of Ran’s cock nudging against your slowly swelling clit did not seem so bad. 

The men spoke and you listened, trying and failing to hide how you were subtly grinding circles on Ran’s hardening cock. Opposite from you on another sofa, where you had been oblivious to his hooded stare, Kakucho was sipping on his drink, watching your thighs tense and tremble, your hips circling. 

It was time.

“Y/N.” His deep, baritone voice intoned your name with such decree, you snapped out of your funk. Below you, Ran tensed his thighs, nudging his crotch upwards and grazing your clit again. 

You moaned, low and laced with shame, cheeks warming. 

“You think you’re so discreet, aren’t you?” 

Your mouth fell open with an audible ‘pop’ when Kakucho stood up, walking straight towards you. When did his shoulders seem so broad and intimidating? 

“I saw you. Rubbing that slutty little pussy all over Ran’s slacks like a bitch in heat.” Something about his stance, his voice and his aura had the other men paying attention. Ignoring your wide-eyed surprise, he used his knee to nudge your apart further, splaying the fabric of your leather dress to bunch up around your thighs. You shrieked and tried to cover yourself, but strong, nimble fingers beat you to the punch. Holding your wrists in both his hands and pinning them down to the sofa. 

“Thank fucking god you noticed, Kaku-chan. I think she leaked all over my pants.” Ran tsked and the hair on the back of your neck rose when he ghosted a kiss on your pulse point. “All I did was put her on my lap and she can’t even behave.”

Shame rose inside of you, hot and insistent. Mikey’s eyes from the corner of the room caught your attention and you shot him a desperate glance. He lifted a brow. “Careful. That’s my friend you’re talking about.”

Undeterred, Ran chuckled. “Come see for yourself, boss.”

Using your momentary shock to his advantage, Kakucho spread your thighs further apart, giving the whole room a show of your neon-red lace thong and the incriminating little wet spot right at its seat. 

A few of the men groaned. Rindou, however, remained unfazed, sipping on his gin and surveying the scene with mild disgust. 

The air turned heavier, more heated when the other brother placed another soft kiss on your pulse point. Kakucho, with the air of an angel, became the devil incarnate when he slid his rough, calloused fingers up and down your soft thighs. He smirked when you started flinching, a whimper caught in the back of your throat.  

Ran moved your wrists behind your back, keeping them trapped with one, infuriatingly large palm, and clasped his other one right to your neck, grasping it almost possessively as Kakucho continued to massage your buttery skin. You jolted when Ran’s hand melted from your throat to curl around one perky breast, squeezing your plush flesh like it was a grapefruit he was assessing in a farmer’s market.

The other men were fully paying attention to you now. One of them—a man with a mop of pink hair and diamond-shaped scars on both sides of his mouth—chuckled lowly. “Think I can see her little pussy creamin’. You sure choose the best sluts, Mikey.”

Scandalised by his callous comment, you gasped and turned to find your friend chuckling. “I suppose I do.”

As if his word was an implicit permission, the men got bolder. Ran started tugging down the elastic hem of your leather dress, freeing your breasts to the room. A few of them groaned at how perky your nipples already were, begging to be sucked. 

“Stop,” you gasped, turning your face away in shame. Not wanting them to see how pleasure rippled across your features when Ran started twisting one turgid peak in his calloused fingers, clamping down on the flesh harshly with a few good pulls. As if he were milking you. 

Your thighs nearly slammed close on Kakucho’s head, but he was quick enough to push them back. “Koko, hold her for me, please?”

The white-haired man rolled his serpentine eyes and tossed his phone aside. “The things I do for you horny bastards.”

Despite his complaints, he obeyed Kakucho and lifted your knee, pining it to his lap, massaging the ball of your foot with steady strokes while Ran continued nipping at your blushing bud. Your hips snapped up, a gasp distorting into thin air as Kakucho managed to pull off your sorry excuse for panties and toss it to the ground.

“Wait, give it to me.” 

The scarred man picked your soil garment back up and handed it to his friend. Tucking it into his pants pocket, Ran’s growing smirk was felt against your neck. “You mewl so prettily, Y/N. It’s a shame what we have to do to you next.”

You barely gasped out the word, “N-Next?” when Kakucho’s hot breath hit your swollen and aching folds. There was nothing you could do—no place to escape—when his rough tongue parted through your folds, eliciting a yelp from you.

“She’s sensitive,” the pink-haired man remarked.

“Shut up, Haruchiyo.”

“Ngh!” you tossed your head from side to side, the sudden burn in your pussy second to the shame raging through you like a forest fire. 

You were not afforded the luxury of hiding your shame—Kakucho’s tongue eliciting wet squelches from your pussy, your wetness dripping on his chin and Ran’s slacks lewdly and with no pause; how you were almost undressed but most of the men remained pristine in their suits branded humiliation deep into your bones.

 “Please,” you cried out. “D-Don’t—”

Slim fingers grasped your chin and pushed your face towards him. Kokonoi’s tongue invaded the warm, gasping cavern of your mouth the same time Kakucho pushed his tongue deep into your pussy to lap against your golden spot. 

Kokonoi kissed you like a man wanting to devour you whole. Your cries were swallowed, swirled over in saliva and spat back into your waiting mouth, his grip on your chin unyielding. A pearly string connected your lower lip to Kokonoi’s mouth, and you whimpered when he broke it with a quick swipe of his pink tongue. 

Sharp pinches bloomed from your chest, and you felt Ran quickly tugging on your nipples with frenzied zeal. Coaxing towards the strongest orgasm of your life. Granted, you were still a virgin, but you had sampled pretty much every toy shaped like a cock in the market. Though from the looks of these men and how tall and formidable they were, you were sure no girth you have shoved into your aching, untainted pussy would ever hold up to their dominance and need to ruin you. 

Hatred and lust shared no differences when it came to how ruthlessly Mikey’s men were pleasuring your pliant body. Whatever they laced into your drink left you vulnerable and slow to reacting, your eyes languidly fluttering open and shut like broken blinds, your hips constantly undulating against the stiff length of Ran’s clothed cock.

Your keen was smothered by Kokonoi’s kisses and you were tugged back against Ran’s chest, his mouth fiercely claiming yours where his other friend had just been a few seconds ago. If Kokonoi was sensual lip-locking, Ran’s left little to the idea of who was truly in charge. Mercifully, he stopped playing with your nipples, only for a warm mouth to latch onto a reddened bud, sucking and flicking it with warm, wet strokes.

You flickered your eyes open long enough to find Kokonoi thumbing your neglected bud while his perfect mouth sealed over your other throbbing, turgid nipple.

Between your legs, Kakucho was growing even more pussydrunk, his groans reaching straight to your core. You chanced a glance long enough to find his pretty eyes crossed, your slick webbing between his chin and your pussy.

The seconds stretched into minutes, stoking the fire deep inside of you.

You didn’t orgasm as much as you shattered.

A loud wail could not be contained from Ran’s persistent mouth on yours and you broke away, screaming to the high heavens as your release punched you right in the gut with the force of a bullet train. Limp and sweaty, you slumped back into the older brother’s arms while the younger one clicked his tongue.

“Fifteen minutes. Took you assholes long enough to make her cum.”

Kakucho kneeled back on his haunches, his face completely soaked with the sheen of your juices and he raised one eyebrow towards Rindou. “Think you can do it better, Haitani?” 

Ran gently nudged you off him, and you slumped into the sofa like a noodle. Someone hitched your legs up, giving the room a view of your swollen, flush and messy folds.

This time, another mop of lilac hair settled in between your legs, and you cried out, hands fisting in his hair when he sealed his mouth over your aching clit, sucking on it lightly. It jolted you out from your post-orgasm haze, and your hips snapped up pitifully, a sob wrenched so easily from your fucked-out mouth.

“No more! Please!” 

Delicate fingers grasped your chin, and you did not see Ran tenderly coming up behind the sofa’s arm, prying your lips apart. Something scratchy and thin was stuffed into your mouth, and you were mortified to find that it was your soiled panties. 

Arms lifted you up, pulling you against the plush sofa, and nudging your own wrists over your head. A belt was lashed around your trembling hands, your whole body lifted up and towards a table where you noticed coils of rope in your fugue of lechery. Ran’s broad chest was warm underneath your cheek, and your head lolled to the side, not even caring to spit out the offensive item stuffed into your mouth. 

He laid you flat on the cool, wooden surface. Someone grasped your legs and tied them to the table’s wooden ones, exposing your puffy lips and the wetness that still dripped down your thighs like the world’s dirtiest secret. Your arms, already lashed, were tied with two ropes from the other side of the table. 

Warm fingers pressed on your pulse point, rubbing it softly. 

“So perfect for us.” 

Kakucho. He came back to view and leaned down to give you a kiss even through your makeshift gag, sucking lightly on your plump lower lip. A jolt of pleasure from between your legs indicated someone was back to eating you out. Jerking your head back, you moaned when Rindou started where he left off. 

Someone fished your panties out from your mouth and turned your face to the side. A stiff length nudged between your lips, and you took it without complaint, sucking on it like it was a lollipop tasting of salt, skin and clean musk. Whoever shoved their cock down your throat was neat, his well-trimmed pubic hair touching the tip of your nose. 

You had no choice but to loosen your throat if you didn’t want to die from choking on cock. The wet, lewd sounds of you taking Haruchiyo’s length was exacerbated from the deep squelches of Rindou eating you out like a starved man. The slick sounds of hands rubbing on cocks shiny with juices echeod around the room.

The air was scented with maddening musk and the smell of sweat. You were right in the eye of the storm of lust and mayhem, the dark room spinning. 

Over the din was Mikey’s constant onyx eyes fixated on you. They were flat and dark with reproach. 

You flickered your teary gaze to him, pleading. Stop this—I’m begging you.

But, he did not relent. He merely sat back in a singular velvet sofa seat, legs spread and chin perched in his hand, like a bored, dangerous king. Haruchiyo peered up at him from fucking your mouth to grin widely at Mikey, grotesquely stretching his scars. “She’s a natural—fuck, y’sure she’s a virgin?”

“Well, she won’t be now,” Ran grunted from the side, cock in hand. Kakucho heavy breathing insterpersed with your rough, gagging noises. Fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m cumming.

You squealed around Haruchiyo’s cock the same moment your release slammed into you, leaving you feeling even more jelly-like than before. If it weren’t for the ropes around your limbs binding you fast to the table, there would be no telling if you would’ve slipped off the high perch. 

Static filled your mind, eyes glossy as Haruchiyo retracted his slick length and started pumping fast strokes right over your parted lips, his other hand pinching your cheeks together to keep your mouth lax. The first spurt of cum you tasted tonight landed squarely on your tongue, and you could do nothing but take his load. It was bitter and musky, leaving you wincing and gagging. 

Two slim and rough fingers slipped into your mouth, stoppering you from throwing up his cum, cruel smirk glinting in your periphery. “Swallow it.”

Tears trickled down your cheeks and you obeyed him, gulping down his load. From somewhere below you, another set of fingers were working your clit while shoving two nimble digits right into your fluttering cunt. 

“No more,” you moaned, head thumping back onto the hard wooden surface. “No more, please—hmph.”

The next cock lodged itself right down your gullet, and you tried hard to pry open your eyes that were tacky with Haruchiyo’s previous release. The person was kind enough to smear the glistening sheen of cum from your lashes and you peered up blearily to find Kakucho’s reddened face completely contorted in pleasure. He used your mouth the same way Haruchiyo did, albeit in a softer way.

His thrusts were gentle, thumb on your lower lip holding you open for him. He was bigger—far girthier than his friend was—and you struggled to take him all in, choking around his massive base.

“Good girl,” he rasped. Someone was frantically fucking your tight, fluttering hole with those two maddening fingers. “Doing so well for us.”

Your leather dress was slicked with sweat, completely stuck to your skin. The cheap PVC was no match to hide the flecks of pre-cum the boys left behind, and you shivered to imagine how you would look like covered with their jizz.

Kakucho cradled your head while (Rindou?) suckled on your clit again. Trying to get you to the precipice of another orgasm. 

Before you could get into the rhythms, Rindou pulled back, and you were left gaping and empty. But, not for long.

A slick length slid through your rippling walls, the man groaning. Ran. You were sure it was him—no one else sounded that low and deep quite like he did. Except for Kakucho.

The scarred man’s midnight blue bangs were stuck to his face, his eyes hypnotisingly trained on you. Those incongrous orbs were mesmersing, and you wished you could stare into them for a little while longer to memorise their shimmering iridescence.

Shut the fuck up about his eyes, you’re getting fucked goddamnit.

Ran barely had time to settle into the hilt before he was wrenched away. Mikey loomed over you, seething and humming for murder. “I told you. It’s me who gets first dibs on her pussy. Don’t you dare fucking forget who owns all of you.”

Manjiro… except, this was not him. The Mikey you knew would never spew words like this. Gone was your sweet best friend, and in its place was a man whose slim, pinkish-tip cock was pulsing to be in you. He dipped his fingers through your seam, and smeared your juices over his entire length, giving himself some extra lubrication. 

You shivered when another set of pretty, ring-clad fingers tweaked your nipples and you gurgled around Kakucho’s length when Ran took to idly fiddling with your sensitive and swollen buds like they were his favorite toy. He ducked his head down to suckle on your points, and you nearly choked on Kakucho’s length when Mikey started thrusting—hard.

His strokes were punishing, meant to push his cock deep into your body til you could taste him at the back of your throat where Kakucho’s own cock was brutalising it. After setting a punishing pace, he started thumbing at your clit, and you felt like you were sure to explode. Every fiber of your body was made purely of sensation. You were floating and burning at the same time; a butterfly with their wings immolated mid-flight.

Stuttered breaths from the man above you signalled he was close to cumming. Though Kakucho was sweet, he was still apart of Bonten. He was still as fucked up as they were.

A loud groan barely prepared you for his seed splashing down your face in hot rivulets, cock jerking and throbbing violently as if pulled by a sadistic marionette. The large appendage bobbed once, twice, drooling white fluid down onto your fucked-out features. He rubbed his cum into your cheek and chin, dipping his fingers in your mouth to let you suckle on them docilely.

“Damn. Think we broke her?" 

Rindou’s voice floated from somewhere on the other end of the room. 

If this was Hell, you were already starting to repent. I can’t do this anymore. Perpetually nailed to a stake of pleasure and agony, you were fighting against both sensations warring and clashing to come out at the top. Someone please help me. 

The moment one cock left your mouth, another took its place. Mercifully, Kokonoi’s cock was less girthier than the others before you. What he lacked in thickness, he made up in length, and it nearly overwhelmed your gag reflex, causing you to puke up the alcohol you ingested earlier. 

Someone spat onto your heaving, jiggling tits and massaged their spit into your heated skin. Ran grunted your name and Rindou was panting heavily from your left, jerking his cock off. 

Covered from head to toe in their fluids, you were shaking so hard you would’ve nearly sliced off your tongue with your teeth if Kokonoi’s cock did not pin your mouth in place. You keened when Mikey started slapping your clit in time to his thrusts, and your eyes rolled back into your head at the sensation of Kokonoi squeezing down your windpipe as you tried to suck him off eagerly.

“Look at you,” Mikey snarled rabidly. “Taking this so well you fucking slut.” 

Your legs were pushed back slightly, hips tilted up by Mikey’s palms around your ass globes, giving him a deeper angle. Stars bounced in the back of your eyes, and you felt the telltale twitch of your friends dick deep in you.

“Cumming,” he moaned, platinum blonde locks stuck to his forehead, dark eyes manic with pleasure. “G’na… fuck…”

It was like no other feeling in the world when Mikey pumped his cock into you over and over again until hot warmth filled you up to the brim. Instead of feeling shame, you were in awe of how empty yet full you felt at the same time when his cock withdrew from your swollen walls. A little trickle of hot cum dotted the table, and you nearly had a heartattack when Haruchiyo swooped in right after his boss.

“Can I?” 

Mikey nodded, exhaustion lining his features as he staggered back towards the single seat sofa. “Knock yourself dead, Sanzu.” 

Instead of fucking Mikey’s cum back into you like you believed he would do, the pink-haired fiend knelt down right in front of your cunt and started to scoop out his friend’s release and swallow it down with his equally pink tongue. It was so filthy that your thighs clenched—hard. Sanzu moaned and groaned deeply, high off Mikey’s flavour, and it almost distracted you from Kokonoi’s stuttering hips.

He didn’t pull out from your hot cavern like what Kakucho and Haruchiyo did, but he held your face flush right to his crotch. Forcing you choke on his insane length. You thought it would’ve protruded out the back of your skull.

Haruchiyo chose the right time to fuck into you at a pace that left the table squeaking from the force. 

Kokonoi groaned, his pretty white hair falling in his face as he dumped his load unceremoniously down your throat. 

“Shit, she tightened up,” Sanzu ran his mouth, panting loudly. “Someone choke this bitch or something—wanna see how she seals herself on my dick.”

Kokonoi pushed you off his cock and you sputtered, heaving violently and spitting his cum back down your chin in throaty gags. Those snake-like eyes were hooded, a Black Mamba waiting to strike. “Messy,” he commented, and swiped his spat-out cum and smeared it around your face. Leaving you sticky with his residue. “Come on, doll. Not one drop wasted, okay?” 

As he spoke, he fed you his cum again and you had no choice but to swallow him down. You were positive your stomach was now 85% filled with all their jizz combined. 

It was hard to let it go down, but you eased your throat, a feat considering that Sanzu was jackhammering into you like a crazed rabbit. Like your lower body was separated from your upper one, you could segregate two base functions with chilling ease: to be fucked, to be swallowed. The violation of these two orifices shared the same goal—to plunder and penetrate you until you were soiled beyond rescuing.

Sanzu tossed his head back and with a loud groan, he came into you. 

More hot spurts. More cocks to take.

Ran came next, antsy after his turn being denied over and over again while Rindou naturally took your mouth. 

The same cycle started again. You were now drenched with cum and spit, your throat and pussy loose enough to take both brothers like a champ. 

Every man was sated, and you were already on the verge of your fifth (sixth?) orgasm of the night.

“Goddamn, tight ass bitch,” Ran groaned, and Rindou echoed his primal praise.

“So filthy. Glad we made her ours.”

They spoke over you like you did not exist; like you were just a set of holes to get them off. The perversity of this situation burned down your last resolve to hold back your tears and you started crying, not from the brutal throat-fucks, but from how callously those two pairs of lilac eyes drank you in. Pathetic. They were thinking it. She’s such a pathetic little slut.

“Aww, crying already, whore?” Rindou mocked, a pout forming on his lips. “Ran and I are not even done with you yet. Serves you right for getting your holes fucked by the others first. We’re the worst ones.”

A thrill of fear and arousal slithered down your spine. Rindou noticed your eyes sparking back to life and he snorted. “Look at’cha. So pliant. So easy to make a prey. I’m bored.”

“You’re bored?” Ran quipped before the edge of Rindou’s words could dig into your flayed soul. “I’m having the time of my life. Her p-pussy—fuck—”

Rindou slapped you. Hard. You cried out loudly, and he sneered. “I’m disappointed. That’s what you get for losing your focus on me, you useless whore.”

You tried your hardest to nod, but all that earned you was another slap. “Did I say a hole can respond? Did I tell you to shake your head?” 

Every line in your body stilled. Ran continued to fuck up into you like a crazed stallion, making you moan and shake violently. 

“I tell you how you can act. How you need to act. Not Ran, not the others. Focus on me… and don’t you dare bite my dick off or I’ll break your jaw in half.”

You scrubbed off the anger from your features at his direct warning; loosening your throat, shame burned through you with how easy you submitted to the Haitani brothers that the heat almost felt cool on your exposed skin. 

Rindou grunted, taking your submission in stride. He thumbed your tears away, popping his finger into his mouth and sucking off the salt tang of your agony. He continued to use your mouth like a fleshlight while his brother snapped his hips forward, punching his mushroom tip right onto your golden spot. You were so close.

Fuck, fuck. You choked around Rindou’s length, more tears cascading down your cheeks. 

He had taken to palming your impressive tits, slapping them and cruelly pinching the puffy nubs until you screamed and thrashed. Ran mimicked his younger brother’s debauchery, using the back of his ring-clad fingers to spank your clit until your thighs started shaking. Fully exhausted, you could do nothing but take their strikes and cocks. 

“Easy,” Kakucho murmured, his voice a ray of light in your dark fugue. “She’s almost gone.”

Rindou stared down the length of your body. Your entire face was soaked with spit and cum, your makeup ruined beyond comprehension. Smears of mascara and red lipstick streaked down all the way to your collarbones. The cheap-ass leather dress you wore was bunched up and cracking from the way how your body was almost bent in half. It was also looking worst for wear, speckled with streaks of cum. 

Your pussy… Rindou sucked in a huge breath.

He had never seen so much white pooling onto a table, not even during those meth-laced orgies Mikey forced them to participate in. Combined with the slick from your orgasm, every thrust created stringy webs between your thighs and is brother’s waist.

You were freely leaking for them now, and Rindou would be a fool to not take advantage of this situation.

He snarled, gripping onto your locks tighter and fucking up into your mouth with renewed vigor. One more stroke from Ran and you would cum undone. 

The younger Haitani acted on it now. 

Clamping his fingers around your nose, he continued to fuck up into your mouth as Ran raced towards the finish line of his orgasm. Your body reacted in due time, every synapse firing and alerting you towards danger. The lack of air quickly registered and you thrased violently, strong enough to almost break the table in two. Your screams were smothered by the thrusting of Rindou’s cock, its animalistic pace close to breaking you into two.

Your eyes rolled back into your head. Ran bellowed a curse word that sounded muffled from where you were. The world was starting to turn fuzzy around the edges.

“... good… she’s almost gone…”

Vaguely, you recalled that it was the coldest Autumn night.

The flames flickered in your periphery. 

Orgasms were called the little deaths, according to your workmate, Sasha. Le petit mort. The French claimed that the moment after your orgasm when a person hovered between conciousness was akin to death.

Dark spots lined your vision. Warmth filled you up. Bitter liquid poured down your throat and your hips stuttered violently.

Your body lurched forward, as if giving one final heave, as the white light of an orgasm raced through you at the same moment a flash of red warned you to the pain around your throat that never came.

The sound of metal clattered onto the floor. Blood mingled with musk. Your eyes slipped closed, rest encasing you in its feathery soft kisses, finally. Finally.

The coldest Autumn night stretched on.

The first couple of hours passed by quickly. The conversation kept you distracted, the music kept you hyped, and the sights outside the windows were breathtaking. But now that everybody quieted down, you can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable, antsy in your “seat”. You tried to keep your movements to a minimum, knowing it might bother the man below you, but you really couldn’t; your back began to ache, your feet felt numb, and you wanted to crack every bone in your body. So, you shifted slightly, but it still didn’t satisfy you. You wriggled and adjusted even more, looking for the perfect position, until you felt hands on your hips, stilling you. “Y/n, stop moving! I know you’re uncomfortable but stay still.” You mumbled up an apology, trying to stay as motionless as possible, which worked for a few minutes, but even then, after a while, the pain started again, and you had to move. It’s like your body had a mind of its own, no matter how much you wanted to just stay like you were, you body jolted in uneasiness. Your legs spread a bit, your body sinking into the man's chest, and your neck hung back, the loud sound of your spine cracking echoed in the car. But you couldn't care now about the pain or how you're still feeling caged, not with Kuroo's arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his head leaning on your back as his voice, rough and whispered, sent shivers down your spine "I told you to stop mov- Fuck" His sentence was cut short, now that you're further away from the city, the roads became rocky, unstable, you could feel every bump underneath you.

And you could also feel Kuroo underneath you. His boner poking out, you felt him against your ass. You tried to deny how good it felt, tried to act like you weren't affected, although you couldn't contain the sigh that escaped your lips when you felt his hands leave your waist, slid down and rested on your thighs. His fingers gripping you, he used his strength to shift you, now his clothed crotch was rubbing perfectly between your folds; you don't know if you should feel lucky or not that you decided to wear thin shorts today. The more you drove, the shakier the road will get, you were practically bouncing in his lap, on his dick. Honestly, Kuroo was struggling too much. He glanced to his side seeing most of his friends passed out, and the others too busy on their phones to pay attention to him. He straightened up, his lips mere inches away from your ear "Wanna feel more?" Your eyes widened as you quickly twisted your head to look at him. You barely had time to open your mouth though, he slightly lifted his hips up, pushing both his sweats and boxer down, just enough to free his aching, oozing dick. Your heartbeat quickened as you saw the tip poking between the soft flesh of your thighs, your thoughts were running a million miles a second; just a few hours ago you were barely acquainted with this man, and now you were drooling over him. He cut off your daydreams when you felt his kisses pressing against the nape of your neck, soft and sweet, a really unexpected gesture in this moment, but it only made you melt more into him.

Now it was your turn to lift your hips up, pushing both your shorts and panties to the side, and sinking back down onto his dick. You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet as you felt him slowly slide into you; you could feel all of him, so much of him. The tip kissed your cervix, made your back arch and nails dig into his arm. The veins that ran down his length, dragging against your gummy walls with each bump the car was hitting. It all felt too good. Both of you were trying your best to keep your voice down, to keep calm, not wanting to attract your friends' attention. This whole situation made it feel all so much better, so much more pleasurable. You clenched around him, surprised at how quickly you felt the knot form in your lower stomach, your head fell back, laying on his shoulder as your eyes, barely open and glazed with lust, met his. The eye contact made him hold you closer, made him bite down on the exposed skin of your neck. A few more bites and a few more bumps, a few more thrusts and kissing of your cervix, that all it took for that tight knot to finally give in, to finally break. And it's like Kuroo knew you couldn't keep your voice at bay, one of his hands flew to clasp against your mouth, while the other held your hips tight, preventing you from jolting up and attracting unwanted attention. Your orgasm triggered his own, his grip around you hardened, his knuckles turned white as his canines really sunk in, piercing through the thin surface of your skin, drawing blood, and he finally painted your insides white.

Flashbacks of a struggle and then being injected with something flash through 17’s mind. He knows that it’s because of his reluctance to these tests that he has to endure such treatment. Whenever 17 has to take a test, he always prefers it would be you administering it. Often it is Dr. Gero, who is so much more rough with him than you are. 17 shudders when you push back some of his hair.

“Are you ready for the male hormone test now? It’s really simple, and I think you’ll enjoy it.” You question him, and he sighs.

“Like I have a choice,” 17 spits out. He is completely restrained to the table. It’s a comfortable table at least.

You walk over to the desk in the corner and you begin typing something into the computer. A series of beeps and boops fill the air before a cylindrical device begins descending from the ceiling. 17 is confused by this device. You know what it’s for. Dr. Gero had you build this machine specifically with the thought of testing 17 in mind. This will be able to show you if the Androids are even able to have children. 

“This won’t hurt a bit. I’ll need to remove all your clothing.” You begin with his pants, undoing them as best as you can through the restraints. Then the shirt, which you cut off his body.

“Isn’t that just a waste?” 17 remarks sarcastically. You smile sweetly as you remove his underwear.

You gasp as you see the size of him. The length is slightly above average, but it’s the girth. He is quite thick around. You know you did the right thing getting the large size for the rings. You pull on some nitrile gloves and pick up your clipboard. 17 can’t even look you in the eyes right now. All his cockiness has been pushed aside for timidity.

“Such a large specimen,” you mutter to yourself. Gently, you grasp his cock in your hand and he hisses through gritted teeth.

“Hey! Be careful,” 17 moans loudly, unaware of how needy he really is.

You write down a few things on your clipboard before setting it aside. On the desk in the corner of the room, you procure a syringe and a bottle of some sort of pink fluid. 17 knows that you’re about to inject him with something.

“This is a virility drug. It’s mixed with sildenafil.” You explain to him. He swallows hard. He knows what this test is going to be for.

You inject him with the proper dosage and then you give him time to react to the drug. It doesn’t take long for him to get even harder than he was before. His cheeks are pink as the arousal takes a hold of him.

“How are you feeling now?” You ask him, scribbling more notes on your clipboard.

“How do you think I feel? You just injected me with probably the world’s strongest viagra. I’m horny as hell!” 17 seethes as he wriggles on the table.

“Yes, don’t worry about that. I’m here to test the potency of your sperm. So rest assured, you will get off.” He hates that he loves how smart you are. You never sugarcoat anything, and he loves the technical jargon you always use.

You set the clipboard aside once more before returning to him. With gloved hands, you grasp his cock. It’s leaking so much precum at this point, and you just touching him has him moaning softly. You love that you get to administer this test. You’ve been pining after him for so long.

“You’re very erect. It must feel pretty good to have my hands on it, yes?” 17 doesn’t even want to answer this. It feels heavenly.

You cup his balls and you realize how heavy they are. It’s a shame you’ll have to put a ring on both his cock and his balls for the first part of the test. It’s meant to test how long it’ll take for him to cum. But seeing as you need as much cum as possible, you need to make sure he lasts as long as he can.

“This might be a little cool to the touch,” you tell him as you grab both metal rings. You had opted for something better, but metal was all you were given.

17 whines as you begin fitting him with the rings. First, the one on his balls is put on. It squeezes a little bit, making them feel even more sensitive. Then you slip the one for his cock, smirking at how it is the perfect fit. He feels so lost in a thick fog of lust. He wants nothing more than a sweet release.

“I’m going to start the extracting machine now,” you begin as you walk over to the computer once more. “Unless you prefer I do this manually.” 

Though you are only joking. There’s no way you should get involved more than scientifically. Even if just the thought of jerking him off makes your panties so damp. Already you’re fighting off every urge to straddle him, push back your panties and ride him all day long.

A few more clicks of your mouse, and the extractor machine comes down fully. It opens up to 17 and shows him a fake pussy. He laughs when he realizes what this is. It’s a sex toy attached to a mechanical arm. It’s going to fuck him, and it’s going to make him cum. Just so that you can test his sperm, whatever that means.

17 doesn’t anticipate just how excited he is for this. Before he became an android, he was a loner. He barely got laid as it is, but this was going to be even better than he imagined. Now if only you could take off that damn lab coat, things might get a little kinkier in here. He thrusts his hips up slightly as the drug begins making him even more aroused. You rush over when you realize you’ve forgotten a step.

“I’m sorry 17, I haven’t even given you the proper lubrication.” 

His head is buzzing as he realizes what you mean. You pick up a bottle of generic water-based lube and you squirt some on your gloved hands. Then you grasp his cock again and you begin stroking him to make sure every drop is on his cock.

17 whines as you keep up a steady pace. This is mostly for your own benefit. You wanted to give him a little pleasure as well. His balls feel so tight already and he isn’t sure if it’s you or the drugs or the ring. It doesn’t matter. Everything feels so good right now. He feels like he could cum right away.

“There we are. Now, time to get you off.” You giggle softly, and his cock twitches at the sound.

17 moans loudly as the toy begins to swallow his cock. He can barely watch as he reaches so deep inside of it. It’s a slow pace to start, and he is quite grateful. He didn’t think something like this would feel so good. And to his luck, you remove your lab coat, revealing a tight sweater that accentuates your gorgeous tits.

“I knew you looked great under that coat,” 17 struggles to say. The machine begins jerking him off a little faster, and another moan falls from his lips.

You smirk at the display in front of you. When Dr. Gero first announced this test, you knew you had to jump on this chance. There was no way that 17 was going to let the doctor administer such an intimate test.

“Tell me how you feel,” you ask him. He rolls his eyes before whimpering softly.

The machine begins at a faster and deeper pace. 17 feels his heart beginning to race in his chest. This is too much. It’s way too good. It’s like this machine knows exactly how to make him feel so good. You probably studied his habits and programmed it to know how he likes to be ridden. This is all your fault.

“I feel fucking good, okay? Obviously I do.” He’s so shy right now. But it feels sensational. He can’t quiet the whines and the whimpers.

You reach over to cup his heavy balls, and that’s all it takes for him to fall off the edge. 17 cries out loudly, his orgasm taking hold of him completely. He mutters the sweetest little moans and pleading. It turns you on more than you could ever believe. You’ve never seen anything so sexual in your life. 

“Fuck yes! Fuck!” He’s moaning as the toy continues to milk him. Eventually, it slows to a gentle pace and it has 17 whimpering and shaking on the table.

You jot down a few more notes then you go back to the computer. The machine stops, leaving 17 on the table alone. His cock is still quite hard, you notice. Well, you did inject him with something strong after all. You walk over to him and strip off your gloves. You hover over him for a moment before smirking.

“Guess I’ll have to finish the job manually.” You say as you grasp his cock. 17 moans as you begin jerking him off.