I write sometimes

Angel's predicament has always been this: he wants to touch you, he wants to feel you, he wants to be closer to you. But he can't, for obvious reasons. 

It tends to keep him up at night. Angel curls up under his bed sheets, pure white wings fanned out, pumping his cock while he thinks about you. After many restless evenings, he came to the conclusion that he would do anything for one chance with you, regardless of the circumstances. 

So, if Angel can't fuck you himself, watching Aki fuck you is the next best thing. Fortunately for Angel, Aki really likes having an audience. 

Angel sighs, leaning back further in his chair, admiring the view. His pants are pooled at his ankles, his face is flushed pink, and his hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking up the length slowly with an open grip. He spreads his legs a bit more and then quietly chokes out, "Aki… How does it feel?" 

Aki has you caged in under him, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He swallows before he speaks, his voice shaky, to the point where he sounds like he's high, "Really f-fucking good," He stutters, "She's soooo good." 

Aki has you positioned perfectly so that Angel can see everything, including the way Aki's thick cock presses inside you. The shaft is slick and glistening when he pulls out, echoing a wet sound when he shoves it back in deep, his cockhead nudging at your cervix. 

"Tell me more," Angel twists his hand and squeezes, breathing harshly at the sensation. 

Aki obliges, "It's really warm, really fucking tight," He breaks into a whine when he shoves back in again, his words starting to slur, the pleasure downright overwhelming, "Squeezing my dick so much… Every time I pull out, feels like it's sucking me back in." 

Angel moans loudly at that. 

Aki is still in his work clothes, his hair loose. His suit jacket is falling down his shoulders, but still manages to cling to his arms. His tie is loosened, his slacks are pulled down to his thighs, his shirt is unbuttoned at the top. Same with Angel; the devil's pants are pulled down, but his dress shirt and jacket are still on neatly. It's a stark contrast to you, stripped completely naked, your body exposed to both men. 

The way they're watching you is so intense — It makes you feel dizzy, like you're not sure who you should focus on. Aki, who's tall frame is positioned over you, his hair long and messy, his cheeks flushed red. Or Angel, who's observing your every move intently, taking in every detail of the scene, his wings gently fluttering. 

"Shit," Aki groans, and he dips his head over your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him, fingers tangled in his soft hair as he whispers in your ear, just quiet enough for only you to hear, "You're so damn wet, baby. You getting off to this? You like when someone else watches me fuck you?" 

All you can manage in response is a nod as Aki's teeth connect with your neck, nipping little hurried love bites into the skin there. You tilt your head to give Aki better access, and when you do, you catch eyes with Angel for the first time in a while. 

Angel's lips are parted, and strands of his cherry red hair stick to his forehead from sweat. He's jerking himself off steadily, his gaze flickering between you and Aki. His cock is pale and pretty, the sensitive tip leaking with precum, coating his palm each time he pumps it. He looks so disheveled, so needy. A total mess, just from watching you get fucked. The look in your eyes when you turn to him — pupils blown, desperate — is enough to make Angel's dick throb hard in his hand. 

Aki places delicate kisses up your jaw, over the shell of your ear, and his breath is hot on your skin when he mutters, "You're doing so well. Can you get a bit louder? Let Angel hear you, sweetheart." 

Aki's voice is soft and sweet, his lips are tender, but the way he fucks into you is relentless. He shoves himself in with deep, hard thrusts, focused on giving Angel the best show possible, on showing him just how well you can take his cock. Aki caresses your thighs with his palms, lightly squeezing, and he presses his lips to your cheeks, then your forehead — Faint kisses that contrast perfectly with his brutal pace, sending tingles up your spine. 

You manage to stutter, "Feels amazing, Aki, d-don't stop-" 

"Oh my God…" Angel tosses his head back as he jerks himself with more fervor, feeling himself getting closer, his dick getting harder when he hears your sweet voice. 

"Angel," Aki says, and it quickly draws the devil's attention back. Angel opens one of his eyes, and Aki continues, "Tell her what you wanna do to her."

"I wanna, fuck," It's difficult for Angel to get the words out. He's so close already, his wings twitching, his dick aching in his palm. He has to slow the pace of his hand to keep himself from cumming, taking in a deep breath to calm himself down further. "I wanna touch her. Really bad." 

Aki replies, "Yeah? Where? Here?" His large hands move to cup your breasts, pinching and twisting at the nipple. 

"Yeah, y-yeah, shit, Aki. You're fucking her so good." Now that he's got himself started, Angel can hardly hold back from babbling everything that comes to his mind. Watching the way Aki fucks into you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread you open, his cock stretching you out, his balls hitting your ass; it's so filthy, but so fucking addicting. 

It's addicting for Angel to close his eyes and focus on the sounds: your whines and Aki's quiet groans, the echo of skin slapping against skin, and the disgustingly wet squelch each time Aki thrusts in — It's intoxicating for Angel to imagine that he's somewhere in between. Before he even realizes what he's saying, Angel admits, "Want her to suck me off." 

A little smirk falls on Aki's face. God, he knows he shouldn't get turned on by that, but something about imagining fucking you senseless while you're choking on Angel's dick, struggling to take the two of them at once, has him feeling lightheaded. 

And Angel knows he shouldn't get so worked up just by watching this, feeling himself pushed further and further to the edge by the way you chant another man's name, Aki's name. He's watching his co-worker fuck you, he's gonna have to go to work tomorrow and see you and him and know that he watched the two of you fuck each other stupid. 

Aki grabs your face by your cheeks, his tone sultry when he mumbles, "Bet you'd look so pretty baby, sucking off Angel. You want to, don't you? Admit it." 

You nod your head, babbling, "Uh-huh, wanna make you feel good, Angel-" 

Angel feels his heart skip a beat in his chest when you address him directly, his breath hitching, but you're cut off when Aki commands, "Stick out your tongue." 

Aki presses his thumb to your lips, and when you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out as you were told, he bullies his thumb into your mouth until you suck on it obediently. 

"Ohhhh God, I can't, I'm gonna cum," Angel whines, feeling on the edge of his high. Aki grabs your chin and tilts your head forcibly until you're looking at Angel. 

With your eyes on him, your lips parted and Aki's thumb shoved in your mouth, Angel can't hold back anymore. He spills all over himself, cumming in thick ropes, getting his hand filthy. He looks so pretty when he finishes, his face blissful, his eyelashes heavy and fluttering. His voice is sweet and high pitched as he mutters an incoherent mix of swears and your own name. You swear you can see his halo glow brighter, spilling yellow beams of light onto his form, reflected upon his eyes.

Aki can feel you getting close, your cunt tightening around him, so he takes his thumb out; it's still wet with your saliva when he rubs your cheek and asks, "You gonna cum, baby?" 

"Mhmm, mhmm." 

"I'm close too," Aki chokes out. He clumsily wedges his hand between your legs, his fingertips rubbing precise circles on your clit, and he adjusts his pace, fucking you to a steady rhythm, one he's sure will make you cum. "Cum for me and Angel, and let Angel see your pretty face." 

His instruction is all it takes before you're over the edge, cumming around Aki's dick, with your head tilted towards Angel. Aki feels you get wetter; he nearly slips out, but he buries his head in your shoulder, clumsily chasing his high, his hands gripping your waist to pull your body even closer to himself. 

Angel slowly opens his eyes. He's still calming down from his release, his hand stroking his dick lazily. He pleads through shallow breaths, voice weak, "Aki… wanna see you cum on her. Can you?" 

Angel just barely catches the way Aki gasps, Yeah, yeah, before he pulls out, his fist hastily jerking his cock until he's groaning in pleasure, cumming all over your stomach and your chest, getting you sticky and messy with ropes of his white cum. 

Aki takes heavy, quickened breaths, and Angel reaches up to push messy strands of hair from his forehead. Aki cups your cheek and quietly praises, "So good, so good. You did so good for us. So perfect." 

"Yeah, that was amazing," Angel nods in agreement, "I don't care what we have to do. Next time, you're gonna switch places with me, Aki." 

A respectful mumble of “Rollo-kaicho” rose from the scatter of students milling around as he walked past, though nothing that a returned nod of acknowledgement couldn’t settle.

The peacefulness that blanketed the stately campus as the sun sank further and further down the horizon reminded him much of the night of the Young Mage’s Social ball, and more so, you. Rollo could recall that particular evening with perfect clarity, the sights and sounds replaying again in his head as the purple-clad mage made his way indoors, the old wooden door swinging shut behind him with nay a creak, shutting out both the wind and the sounds of the city.

‎

His own footsteps were the only sound ringing across otherwise empty corridors as the boy turned the situation he had found himself unexpectedly stuck in over and over again in his mind. It had never been his intention to fall over his own set trap, yet how was it he did so anyway despite all his wariness and discipline?

This had all begun as a plot for revenge right after he had been bested, by villains no less. It would be hard for Rollo to even admit that he had come to terms with the beating he received several months ago, let alone the night after it happened, and his next plot had already begun to hatch the moment you swept into view dressed in your masquerade costume, accompanied by none other than Malleus himself. From everything he witnessed, it was clear that the Draconia housewarden cared greatly for you, and dare he guess, maybe even had some unexpressed feelings for you. 

Not that he hadn’t noticed you before that night, but it was certainly the first time that he had come to realize just how central a place you held among the Night Raven College students, and how crucial a card you would be in his next plan to wipe that smug smirk off of that wretched fae prince’s face.

The night of the Young Mages’ Social ball had been surprisingly ordinary, given what had just happened. He had been exhausted and dead on his feet, even if he showed no sign of it outwardly; the orderliness of the hall that he painstakingly cleaned after the last fire lotus had withered was a welcomed sight. Alas there was no time for sleep, not that it would matter given his already heavy eyebags. But despite his state, you had instantly caught his eye at the start of the ball, quietly huddled towards the back of the Night Raven group, trying your best to look anywhere but at him or at the rest of the crowd as you and your friends were singled out as the saviors of Fleur City. And it was obvious that you were feeling even more out-of-place as the dance began in earnest, though whether it was from the crowds or just general awkwardness, Rollo could not say.

Taking his leave from the merrymaking, the white-haired Council President could find no surprise within him when he found you sitting alone later outside of the hall, enjoying the peace and quiet that had fallen over the city with the arrival of night, looking up at the blanket of stars, a glass of what looked like juice in your hand.

“May I join you?”

You had jumped at his words, though you did settle quickly upon realizing it was just him for reasons unbeknownst to Rollo. “By all means,” you replied, waving him down to join you. After all, he did just try to essentially kill your friends and all mages in general. Perhaps you knew something he didn’t, the purple-clad student mused to himself, subtly watching you from the corner of his pale green eyes. Or perhaps you were just presumptuous, given you hadn’t been affected as badly as the rest.

The dark sky was clear of clouds, the dark of space dotted with twinkles as far as the eye could see, the moon hanging alone amidst the barren sky; an alluring sight for weary souls - and judging from how discreetly you had excused yourself from the social, you definitely were tired. 

A pause as Rollo took a seat a respectful distance from you. “Too much?”

You nodded. “Too much.”

Whatever it was, you seemingly held no ill will towards Rollo, simply accepting his quiet company. And so the two of you sat in comfortable silence as the young mages danced and laughed the night away just a stone’s throw away. The minutes melted into hours as the world continued to turn, though the calmness of the reality around him was a far cry from the turmoil of thoughts within his head. 

When the night started to grow old and the cacophony of noises began to die down, it was as if an unheard bell had gone off, and you reluctantly stood, empty glass now in hand - your friends were bound to come looking for you should they notice you were missing. And with you leaving soon and that night being the last one you were spending at Noble Bell College, it was finally time to launch the first phase of his plan.

”I would like to write to you,” Rollo started, immediately cringing internally as the words left his lips, but there was no going back now. “If it is alright with you.”

He held his breath as you considered his request, your head cocking to the side as you contemplated. “Sure, why not?” You shrugged, shooting him a light smile, your hair gleaming in the waning moonlight. “Goodnight, Rollo.”

Exhale. And that was that.

‎

But now here he was, Rollo mused, eagerly anticipating the opportunity to read your letter alone. Has his plan gone astray? He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts of you, just till he could be alone. For all his routine and self-discipline, you were the one temptation he couldn’t seem to get squash down.

Coming to a pause at the fork in the hallway, the Noble Bell Council President paused. The last thing he wanted was to be interrupted tonight in the midst of his much-needed analysis of your letter, so against the burning desires of his heart and the weight of your letter heavy in his robes, he forced himself to take a detour, his feet carrying him down sparse corridors towards the councilrooms. It was easy to spot his Vice President still hard at work amidst the otherwise empty room, scouring through a stack of papers at his desk, head down and pen scribbling away.

A quiet clearing of his throat was enough to get the attention of the occupant inside. “Rollo-kaicho!” Said student rocketed up from his seat, hurriedly adjusting his slipping striped cap. “What brings you here at this time of day?”

“I wanted to check in before I retired for the day,” replied the white-haired boy, giving a courteous glance to the rest of the unoccupied desks before returning his gaze to the other. “Is there anything I should know about?”

The Noble Bell Vice President stuttered for a moment, lost for words and wrecking his tired brain in an attempt to find what to say. “I-uh-“

Pulling out his celestial-patterned handkerchief, his movement just barely managed to cover the disgusted look that fell over his expression, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing as the stench of magic overwhelmed his senses, though Rollo still managed to keep his tone neutral. Even if he was the one to initiate contact, that hardly made a difference with his nausea. “It’s fine,” the magic-adverse mage managed to grit out without a hint of distaste, his tone as neutral as it always has been. “Please have the points ready for me tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, Rollo-kaicho. I apologize again.”

‎

Finally being able to lock his room door behind him brought a relief much like cold water over hot iron, ending the depraved pulsing in his mind that the mere presence of the envelope in his robes against his chest brought on with every passing second. Tossing the heinous paper carelessly onto his well-worn table top, Rollo instead hurriedly picked it back up again, pale green eyes scanning for any further damage he had caused, though fortunately there was none to be found.

Letting out a sigh of relief, the white-haired boy settled into his chair. Now, to satisfy both his curiosity and anticipation.

Trembling fingers carefully peeled open the envelope, revealing a slightly yellowed, unevenly folded paper much to Rollo’s chagrin - he would have much preferred if you used a perfect white piece of paper, quality stationery instead of this random piece you must have had left over from your homework, and if you had folded it the same way he did all this time. But he supposed he couldn’t expect that high a standard from you, given the riff-raff of mages you found yourself in the company of. As he gently freed your letter from its paper enclosure, his sensitive nose caught a whiff of a familiar scent, the smell probably having lingered on from when you first mailed it out.

The light fragrance of your favorite shampoo, Rollo deduced, bringing the paper up to his nose. He recognized it, no matter how faint it was. You must have just finished showering when you wrote and sealed the letter if the aroma still endured. A breath of fresh air amidst the rank odor of magic and mages.

And then he began to read.

Dear Rollo, the letter began as it always did, those two words enough to have his heart skip a beat like nothing else could. But this time, the next few that followed were even better. Your letter came late, and it was sorely missed.

Line by line, you spelled out your daily ongoings, your interactions with your fellow schoolmates, your inner thoughts. Rambling about anything and everything that came to mind, thoughts spilling out without filter straight onto paper. About how Grimm (that filthy magic cat) nearly failed his test again and about how Deuce and Ace got into their latest spat of trouble with their housewarden Riddle. About how Jack and Epel were like to work with on your history project, and how you felt about one of your lunches being stolen by Leona.

Just like that, the minutes slipped through his finger, and with a pang in his heart, Rollo came to the end of your letter.

He placed the paper down on the paper, taking a breath.

How was it that he could feel so attached to another person through a simple piece of paper? How did you ensnare him so effortlessly, bypassing his hard-fought discipline as if it didn’t exist? Did all this mean that his revenge plot against Malleus had already gone awry?

‎

The night was cool and quiet, the moonlight that shone through his stained glass windows bringing the Noble Bell Council President back to that fateful night. A light gust of wind seeped in through a small crack, creaking the old wooden panels in the floor as it blew through his room. 

Your writing had improved, Rollo noted, as per his guidance in his previous letter. You were using a ruler to ensure straight lines, and your handwriting had neaten greatly; a far cry from your first reply to him, the memory of those scrawling letters that ran up and done and every-which way except straight across the paper still causing shivers to run down his spine. That was bad.

Carefully and painstakingly refolding the paper, Rollo stood, returning it to its envelope before moving to stow the letter within his secret compartment above the fireplace, with previous letters neatly arranged upright according to date received. His fingers lightly brushed past all your correspondence with him, his chest fluttering at your willingness to speak with him, his mind already churning with how and what he should reply to you. Would you be interested in perhaps coming back to Noble Bell? Maybe he should visit Night Raven College? Even if that blasted Draconia was there, it would be worth it just to have some private, personal time with you, the white-haired mage calculated, his hand tapping an unknown rhythm across his desk that he now leaned against.

‎

There was no point in denying his obsession with you, not at this point - it had been awhile since you started to occupy his every waking moment and thoughts, and being as organized and detailed as Rollo was, he could pinpoint the exact moment when he began to spiral. Sure, his first letter had been full of nothings, meaningless pleasantries and stories that he polished to perfection over the course of a night of restlessness. But what he got back was your heart on your sleeve, your mind like an open book for him to pick apart and examine.

As things turned out, the more he picked, the more he found. Questions he sent always came back answered, with you evidently letting slip more than you intended to originally say, sometimes directly and sometimes when he read between the lines. 

A single line in your third reply to him was all it took to begin his unending slide. 

You were from a different world.

The more he sat on it, turning it around and round in his mind, the more his chest grew warm, and you began his center of focus. Even the mere passing pondering of what you were doing now was enough to grip Rollo’s entire being, to have his heart rate increase and his thoughts to jumble. After all, in this foul, tainted world, there could be no purer person than someone who came from a place where no magic exists.

You were perfection embodied. 

In a twist of fate, you turned out to be pure, a shining beacon amidst the foul-smelling heathens. A gift from the heavens, a blessings from the divine meant for none other than him, that no one could properly appreciate except for him. Sure you weren’t the most orderly, and you did have your moments where you were occasionally wowed by magic, especially the inhuman feats from that wretched Malleus Draconia, but you remained untainted despite your constant proximity to the taint of magic that surrounded and cloaked you as if a heavy fog. Never indicated anything more than a passing interest in the magic that your companions wielded and an admiration that Rollo was sure he could rid you off. All you needed was time away from those mages, spent instead in his company.

‎

Stepping away from his desk and moving now towards his personal bathroom, Rollo came to the answer he had been looking for as the boy moved to undress himself for a nighttime shower. It had been in front of him all this time.

The answer was no. 

No, he hadn’t forsaken his plan to wield you against Malleus; sure the exact details had changed as the months went by, but everything he did was as he had schemed. Just that now, you didn’t have to be a means to an end, you didn’t need to be just another casualty wrecked up amidst his crusade against the villains. Stealing you away from the fae prince would be one of the largest blows he could deal with to that condescending prick, the beginning of his downfall - the excitement tingling at Rollo’s arms as he imagined the crestfallen expression that would twist Draconia’s face, the streak-free bathroom mirror reflecting the pale green eyes that lighted up in callous pleasure.

It would be glorious.