Aki Hayakawa X Reader - Tumblr Posts

⊱  as the world caves in ; hayakawa aki x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, explicit, smut, angst, mentions of violence and blood, vaginal fingering, creampie, petnames (sweetheart, my love)

summary: an encounter with a devil gone wrong wc: 3.7k

a/n: thank you @rindoom for being my beta <3

18 + // MINORS DN

“Hey! We gotta run!” 

What? The ringing in your ears and the thump of your heart muffled the noises around you. You stared at Aki’s lips moving but nothing registered.

“We have to move!” The force of your body being dragged back and forth in his tight grip should have brought you back from the daze. It should have. But instead you just stared at his lips moving — plush lips, lips you stared at so often, now cracked, dry, and speckled with blood. “Are you listening to me? Can you hear me?” 

You had stared at them so often — at him. You would follow him anywhere, everyone knew it. Follow him all the way to hell if you could and do it with a huge smile on your face.

Your heart thudded faster and skipped a beat. Palpitations — usually something that would flood you with fear, now brought you back from the terror you had been lost in.

“Please! We need to run!” 

Aki pulled you to your feet and grabbed your hand tightly. Don’t fucking let go. He intended to yell it at you, intended to make sure you knew. But as soon as his eyes met yours, he knew not to waste the time to speak, not a single second. You needed to run. Now.

You could barely process what had happened — it had all moved too fast. Too fast like the buildings on either side of you as Aki all but dragged you down the street at top speed. Too fast like the beat of your heart, like the breaths you were desperately trying to calm. 

Shooting pain radiated through your body as the blurring scenery fell down around you. No, no that wasn’t right — it was you that had fallen. You had tripped, broken up asphalt strewn everywhere, your body had slammed into the ground before you could even register it. Before you could even tell it was you, not the buildings, you. 

Your body was jerked up off the fractured ground, sending more pain everywhere, every inch of your body on fire. What had happened? Fuck, you couldn’t think.

“Need to move. Now.” Aki’s words were more for himself than you — you were clearly gone, mind hazy from the impact, from the blood loss, from the pain. 

His hand gripped yours again. “Can you run? We need to run.” You nodded. Could you run? The pain radiating through you said no, but the desperate look in Aki’s eyes said you just had no choice. This was it. You had to run.

Another tight squeeze of your hand and you were off again — hurtling down roads you couldn’t quite process, through parts of the city you were sure you knew, but at that speed, in that pain, you just couldn’t remember. His hand. His hand on yours. The only thing pushing you forward through the maze of shaking buildings and cracked streets. Through the rubble and debris that somehow kept appearing in your way, tripping the two of you up.

Aki didn’t look back until the rumbling subsided, until the chunks of debris that had tripped you over and over seemed to be missing. 

“You ok?” His hands held your face. You had stopped running, crouching behind a building off the main road. It was deserted, if you could have heard over the ringing in your ears and the thump of your heart, you would have heard nothing. Well, nothing aside from Aki’s heavy breaths, the crashes and screams that could have been mistaken as a tv left on too loud, save for the occasional rumble of street beneath you. “Hey, you ok? Please tell me you’re ok.” Aki shook your face gently, trying to get any response from you. Shock. He thought. You were in shock. 

“I-I’m ok.” Your throbbing body, the breath you were desperately trying to catch, you were not ok but you were alive.

“Ok, ok good.” He sighed briefly — relief washed over him. You were ok. He stared at you a bit longer, held your face in his hands. Just like he had always wanted to. Just like he had always dreamed of. He dragged a thumb across your lip. You’re ok. A loud yell startled the two of you, breaking the comfort of being lost in the warmth of his hands on you.

“They’re coming closer. We need to hide.” He was exhausted – you both were exhausted. Hiding had become your only option. His body ached too much, his lungs burned too much. He just couldn’t push forward anymore. Neither could you, though. Not when every single fiber of your being burned, not when every breath sent a shooting pain through you. You were both broken and failing. All that was left was to hide.

An unlocked door, creaky stairs, flickering fluorescent lights, and cracked tiles led you to a small room. Too small in fact. Perhaps it had served as a broom closet before its current use as a hiding spot for two trembling and broken devil hunters.

“Think we’re safe?” Your voice was barely audible to your own ears and you wondered if it was the throbbing in your head muffling the sound or if you had whispered the words unintentionally.

“Yeah… yeah I think we are for now.” Aki cupped your cheek. “How do you feel?”

“Honestly? like I’m dying.” The pain had only gotten worse when the quasi-safety of the room had calmed both of your breathing. The shock finally wearing off.

“Me too, but we are ok for now though.” He absentmindedly ran his thumb up and down your skin. 

“For now.” You sighed, leaning into his hand. His warmth radiating through you. You focused on the feeling, it helped dull the pain. “That was a close one.”

“Glad I got you out though.” He wasn’t sure exactly what he would have done if he hadn’t reached you in time. If he had let something happen to you. He thanked his lucky stars that his only worry at the moment was how bad your injuries were and not how he would get your body back home. He let his forehead fall to yours as images of you dead ran through his mind. No. No he had saved you. You were here with him. Your body so close to his he could almost feel your heart. Your face so close to his he could feel you breaths, slowly becoming steadier, wash over his face. 

“Aki…”

“Hmm?” You had pulled him from his thoughts. He was grateful that you had because the tears that had been welling up were threatening to fall. 

“Thank you.” You placed your hand gently on top of his. “I would be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

He didn’t reply, just closed his eyes and nodded. Dead. You would have died. He would have never been able to do this if you had -- to be this close to you. His heart raced again, like it had when he had seen you crumpled up in debris after being thrown to the ground by a devil. He should have never let you come. He should have told you to sit today out. 

“Do you think…” you stumbled for words. Ever since you had joined division four you had fought off feelings you were sure you shouldn’t have. Feelings that certainly would interfere with your work — that were interfering with your work. Feelings that now you just couldn’t hold back. Not when you had almost died. Not when the man you had not been able to get out of your mind had saved you. Not when his hand was on your face, body almost pressed against yours. And certainly not when the clamoring outside made it seem like at any moment your hiding spot would be found out. 

“Do I think what?” 

“Do you think…” Your heart was in your throat, your eyesight started to blur. Blur, why was it blurring? The proximity of Aki to you? The feeling of his fingers on your face? Or perhaps something different? You tried to focus on the words you were trying so hard to force out. Do you think I could kiss you. You repeated it over and over in your head but the blur in your vision only got worse. Made you feel woozy. Kiss you. Please. Your body felt weak – not weak like it had when you had shoved yourselves in the cramped little room, weak like you couldn’t stop your shaking legs from giving out. Weak like your whole body threatened to crumple into a heap.

“Hey, hey!” Aki was quick to grab your shoulders as your body fell on him. He slid down onto the floor with you in his arms. “Please tell me you’re awake. Please…” he felt desperate. He was desperate. You had to be ok. You had no choice.

You mumbled something as your vision came back to you, as you found yourself resting on the chest of the man who had dragged you into the small little room you were crammed into, as the light above flickered endlessly. He pressed a short kiss to your forehead. “You have to make it ok? I can’t live without you.” He pressed his face into your head, breathing in deep. Terrified that perhaps this time would be like all the others – only somehow worse. That he had saved you, pulled you from certain death, only to lose you in the safety of the little closet that just wasn't quite big enough for the two of you. “It’s enough ok? You can’t die. I’ve lost enough.” 

The amount of effort you used to lift your head felt unparalleled, as if it was the hardest feat you would ever have to accomplish. Lifting your head, trying desperately to stay there, stay with him. You were met with tears falling down his cheeks – Aki was crying. Stifling every single noise, holding back the sobs he was sure would come if he just let go for a second.

“Do you think we could kiss?” You finally got the words out. Your head was woozy, your eyes blurring, words certainly slurred – but you had said them. You had finally asked what you had been dying to ask since the moment you had met him. 

“W-what?” He stared at you for a brief moment before he could hold back no longer. He sobbed. Tears ran down his face as his body heaved. You were ok. You were ok and you were asking the most ridiculous question you could have ever asked. The last thing he had expected to come from you. The last thing he had expected to come from you as you lay half unconscious in his arms.

“T-that a no?” You tried to smile. You were sure it was crooked, sure that even in the flickering light of that room your smile looked forced. It was forced. The pain, the nausea, the damn flickering lights, how could you smile? You placed a shaking hand onto his face and wiped away a tear. “Sorry I jus-”

Your words stopped by Aki’s lips pressed hard against yours. Dry, rough, and cracked, but somehow nothing had ever felt better. He tried to pull away, but the moment his body shifted you placed a shaking hand on the back of his neck. Slid it up through his messy hair – half fallen out of his ponytail. It was as soft as you had imagined it to be, even knotted and certainly covered with dried blood. The taste of his tears overwhelmed you as he deepened the kiss, as he pressed his lips harder into yours, as he slid his tongue into your mouth. The kiss was only broken by the falling of an item somewhere out in the building. A small reminder that you were indeed not safe, not here. This room could quickly become your tomb if the two of you lost focus. 

“Are we going to be ok?” You weren’t sure and honestly neither was he. Perhaps you two had found this hiding spot and it would save you. Perhaps it was only a temporary reprieve and soon enough the devils you had been running from would be quick on your heels, desperately trying to claw down the door. Desperately trying to finish what they had started.

“Maybe.” Aki knew that was a lie. They would find you there, of course they would. Your scent wasn’t hard to find, especially now. There was no use telling you though, you had known. There was also no use in trying to move forward. Neither of you could run – the settling down of your heart beats, the adrenaline leaving your bodies – you were both in pain. Running any more than you had already was seemingly out of the question. You’d have to hope that someone else was going to take care of the devils, that someone else was out there having more success than the two of you had found.

He pulled you into another kiss before any more words could be said. Before the thought that the two of you might not make it out of there alive was put into words. You were quickly straddling him, the radiating pain in every extremity being dulled by the ache of need. The ache of finally having the man you had desired for so long pressed against you. You tangled your fingers with his hair and pulled gently. Something you had dreamed of. The gasp he let out was everything you had thought it would be – no, it was far better. Aki untucked your shirt and pressed his hands against the soft skin of your back. His lips stopped as he took in the warmth, as he let himself melt into the feeling of you. Soft skin, soft lips, soft breaths. Soft whines of 'Please Aki?' 

Your whine of his name was everything he had dreamed himself – your soft desperate plea for him.

He dragged his lips down your jaw to your ear. “I… I love you.” He said it. He had finally said the words he had been dying to say. The warmth of his hot breath, of the weight of his words, sent a shiver through you. Sent waves of life through you.

“I love you, Aki.” The pain was seemingly gone – replaced with a burning need to be as close to him as possible, to be his.

Another crash outside startled the two of you from the moment you were allowing yourselves to be trapped in. You jumped and gripped him hard. They were closer weren’t they? They were coming closer every moment. And yet all you and Aki could do was pull closer together, was slowly push your hands under each other's clothes. 

“If I die here with you, I’m happy.” A crash, somehow closer, pushed his hand into your pants. You gasped. His words. His hand. You would die happy too.

Aki slid a finger up and down your slick folds as his lips found your pulse. He kept them there, feeling your heart beat against them as he pressed a finger, then two, into your soaked cunt. “S’wet, my love. I had no idea.” His mind swam, he had waited too long. Too fucking long. And now his fingers were buried in your cunt, curling into your sweet spot, pulling the most beautiful whines he thought he had ever heard. 

“A-aki. Feels so good.” You would have been kicking yourself for waiting this long if it weren’t for the way his mouth was sucking on your throat and the way the heel of his palm pressed into your throbbing clit and he pushed his fingers in and out of you. 

“Sound so pretty, sweetheart. Sound so fuckin pretty.” Every push of his fingers had a new moan leaving you that somehow seemed prettier than the last. “Baby… baby I-“ you cut him off though, finding his lips pressing roughly into them. His hand stopped, losing his ability to do anything other than fall into the sweet taste of you. Your soft lip, your warm tongue, your racing heart beat. No longer racing from fear, but racing for him. Racing from this — his body against yours, fingers inside you, racing all because of him. He should never have waited this long. The nights you could have had. His time was so limited, but he could have fucking spent every moment with you. Now though, now if the two of you somehow made it home safe, he would never let you go. He was sure if it. Not when you felt and tasted and sounded this good. This delicious.

“Take me Aki, please?” You had barely pulled your lips from him, still grazing the chapped and peeling skin. “I…I don’t want to wait anymore.” Not when we could die. The rest of the sentence you couldn’t bare to speak, to put the words out there. To make the situation more real than it already was. He knew though, he knew the rest of that sentence — he completed it in his own mind. 

He nodded and pulled his hand from your pants. He started to stand up, slowly, helping you with him. When he was sure you were steady, he leaned into another kiss as he undid his pants and pulled his cock out. Thick, hard, and dripping with precum. You wrapped your hand around it, ran your thumb against the tip and spread the it -- he whimpered at the touch. Everything he had wanted. Well, soon to be everything. 

He helped slid your pants down, just enough, just in case you needed to leave in a rush. “Gonna lift ya, ok?” His voice wavered, from anxiety or fear or pure need you weren’t sure, but you leaned into him as he slid his arms under your legs and lifted you. He moved closer, pressing you hard between his body and the wall you had been resting against. Your legs almost touching the opposite wall — the room almost too small for this, too small for anything other than a couple crammed into a corner waiting for death to come and take them.  

You wrapped your arms around Aki’s neck as he slid his cock against your dripping folds. Groaning softly as he did, his eyes screwed shut already. 

More noises down the hall and his eyes were open. Beautiful and blue and looking directly into yours. Asking without the words leaving him. You pressed your lips into his in reply. You needed him.

He pressed into you agonizingly slow. His cock stretching you centimeter by centimeter. Even with the fear of being found, of losing everything, he didn’t want to rush this. Not this. Not the first time he pushed into your cunt, not the first time he could be one with you. He couldn’t rush what he had dreamed about for so long. 

The burning stretch of his cock had you pressing your head back against the wall. Had your tangling your fingers in his hair and gripping tighter than you had expected. Everything. It was everything you had ever wanted. When his hips finally met yours you both let out a sigh. Finally.

“Y-you ok, my love?” He could barely get the words out. But you couldn’t even respond. You pressed your hips against his and nodded. More. You had wanted to say more, but the pain and pleasure was overwhelming. 

His lips met yours as he dragged his cock in and out of you slowly. His mouth muffled the moans that you couldn’t hold back. His pace was slow as he moved. Savoring every single second of this — of being buried deep inside you. You pulled your mouth from his with a gasp. Aki had shifted your body, and from the movement of your broken body and his cock hitting that much deeper, had you seeing stars.

“A-aki!” You tried to not moan his name as loud as you did, but the force of his cock kissing your cervix threw you over the edge. He picked up speed in response, dying to hear his name fall from your lips more, louder, and lewder. You, of course, couldn't hold back. 

“Love you s‘much.” He stuttered the words as he slammed himself in and out of you, as his cock bullied itself harder and harder against your cervix. “Love you more than anything.”

He pressed his lips to yours, then moved down your jaw, wet hot open mouthed kisses, leaving a trail of saliva down your neck and back up. “We… We make it out of this…”

“All yours Aki” the words a breathy moan. “Yours.”

Mine. The thought was too much, the feeling of your soaked cunt gripping him tight was too much. The way I love you Aki fell from your lips over and over was certainly too much. 

He tried to keep his eyes open, desperately. He wanted to see your face as he made his way to your clit, puffy and throbbing, begging for attention. He rubbed gentle circles into you, that soon became faster and faster as he chased his own high.

Your words faltered and were replaced by whines and moans as your clit throbbed under his fingers and your body shook in his arms, as your orgasm hit hard. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. S’beautiful. Love you s’much” 

He followed you quickly. Thrusting hard into you. Your pussy gripping his cock tight, begging for him to give in. And give in he did. His head tipped into yours, his eyes screwed shut and nothing but your name fell from his lips over and over. 

You two stayed like that — his body deep inside you, holding you up against the wall under the flickering lights in the filthy little broom closet. 

“You… you are so perfect.” 

He could think of nothing else. Nothing except for the moment of the two of you finally giving in. Nothing but your sweet kisses and even sweeter words.

A loud crash outside the door jarred you both from the haze. He dropped your legs, letting you both rush to fix your clothing. The pleasure faded quickly and was replaced with the ache of your body again as more crashing and yelling came from down the hall. Fuck.

“I love you. No matter what happens.” Aki gripped your hand tight. “I’ve always loved you. From the moment we met. Ok?” 

You nodded. You wanted to tell him the same. That he was all you had ever wanted, ever needed. But before you could get the words out the door swung open with a loud crash. 

“HUMANS ARE SUCH COWARDS! THE MIGHTY POWER IS HERE TO SAVE YOU WEAK HUMANS.”

must be losing my mind a. hayakawa

word count — 1k

content — 18+, minors do not interact. nsfw, unestablished dynamic/relationship, f!reader, smut.

warnings — bickering, cursing, bratty!reader/bratty!aki if you squint, boob job, light oral (m. receiving), cum play/cum eating, dirty talk, degradation (only once).

“I didn’t take you to be such a pervert, Hayakawa.”

Aki likes to think he has a good, if not the best, poker face. Which is true most of the time… when the first few buttons of your blouse aren’t undone and he can’t see your cleavage peeking out to taunt him, accompanied by the fragile lace of your bra outlining your supple breasts perfectly.

He feels as though he’s losing his grip on sanity. He can sense his face growing warmer, his pants getting tighter as he tried his best to conceal the obvious bulge in his slacks with sweaty palms. You’re sitting so close to him— the sweet scent of your perfume is all he has to ground himself while he looks around the room, desperate for any sort of distraction. Only for his eyes to fall back to your chest any time he has to look in your direction.

You’re not stupid or as ditsy as he thinks you may be. You noticed his wandering eyes the first time. And every time it’s happened since then. So you bite back a grin, squinting your eyes a bit and clearing your throat to bring his attention to your face, “Do you mind?”

He’s a stuttering mess in the next second, with rosy cheeks and an obvious sheen dewing up his forehead, “I’m sorry— I really didn’t mean to, um— God, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t take you to be such a pervert, Hayakawa.”

“It’s not like that!” Aki nearly yells.

You hum, observing his (horribly feigned) shocked expression. When you lean in he doesn’t back away. You can hear his breath get caught up in his throat for a moment when you say, “You can touch them if you want. All you have to do is ask, ya know.”

He rolls his eyes, but you see his fingers twitch after the invitation falls from your lips, “Don’t fuck with me.”

“I’m not,” you giggle, “I’d let you do whatever you want to me. You’re cute enough.”

Cute enough. Aki seems to snap after that.

You realize that maybe you fucked up.

Because what started as a few squeezes and rough handfuls of your breasts with his tongue stuffed down your throat, quickly becomes you on your knees, patiently waiting for him to undo his belt and drop his pants. You said you’d let me do whatever I want. The remaining buttons on your blouse popped off a while ago, only for Aki to help you shrug the rest of the material off of your shoulders.

And when his cock is finally free, you’re squirming over the visual of him sitting in front of you alone— leaning back in his seat with his legs spread, stroking his cock leisurely. He notices you shift your weight on your knees and your sudden restlessness. He has the nerve to laugh at you. It’s deep and raspy, nearly causing you to pout.

“Look at you,” he scoffs, “You’re just as perverted as I apparently am.”

You smile up at him in such a mischievous yet genuine way, “Says the one who popped a boner over a pair of tits.”

“Watch it.”

His dick smacks against your chest, and you have to bite back another giggle. Precum paints your skin and you take it as a sign to squish your breasts together, engulfing his shaft between them completely. Oh, fuck. Aki groans before you even guide your chest up and down in one fluid motion. You can feel him chasing after it; his hips bounce up off of the couch for more.

You’re not expecting his large hands to reach down and cover your own, smushing your breasts together even more until the tight heat you’ve created drives him up a wall and his head is forced to roll back.

“Feels s’good,” he breathes, chest rising and falling in time with your bouncing.

It doesn’t take much after that. Poor Aki— so pent up and desperate for any kind of release, so much so that he’s cumming all over your chest in such little time with pitchy moans and groans. It’s messy and sticky, and even then he doesn’t stop. He’s still thrusting upwards into the plushness surrounding his cock that’s nowhere near soft yet. Giving you the perfect opportunity to wrap your lips around the tip and get the taste you’ve been drooling for.

Aki whines, feeling your hot, velvety tongue swirl around his aching head. “God, you’re a slut— I’m gonna— gonna fuckin’ cum again.”

The kicker isn’t the last few thrusts he manages to get in. It’s when you open your mouth wide and give him a perfect look at the first inch or two of his cock on your tongue, awaiting the load he's about to give you to eagerly gulp down. Eyes staring up at him as if this is the only thing you’ve ever wanted, and if Aki didn’t know any better he might accidentally say that he fucking loves you like a loser.

His vision is blurry for a few minutes. He forces himself to regroup, and to finally let up his grip over your hands and tits. The weight of his breaths forces his frame to shake while he comes down from the momentary ecstasy. Once again, you’re left gazing up at him.

“That good, huh?”

He groans. In annoyance.

“Do you ever shut up?”

However he’s still keen on returning the favor no matter how much you get on his nerves. It’s easy to coax you into his lap with his greedy hands and sneak his fingers into your panties, to mouth at your tits despite them being covered in his own cum while you writhe against him and tug at his soft hair. Aki— you sound even better than he imagined you would when you sigh out his name.

Between sloppy kisses, you moan into his mouth. Your thighs tremble around his hand uncontrollably as the rough pads of his fingers teasingly play with your clit. The lewd sounds in the air fuel both of you to keep going, mutually drowning in the willingness to see just how far this little escapade can go.

Unfortunately, neither of you manage to hear Denji busting through the front door.

I love your moodboards! If you haven’t done it before (I searched and couldn’t find it), can you make one for Aki Hayakawa please please please? 🥰

Dating Aki Hayakawa pt.2 <3

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ : hi hi!!! I’ve done one for aki in the past but I’ll never say no to more aki moodboards! >:)

aries,,i need to know ur thoughts on sneaking into a supply closet w aki while there are literal devils outside trying to break down the door …

sin supplier | hayakawa aki

PAIRING.  aki x fem!reader

LENGTH.  3.6k words

NOTES.  this is just. so horny laksdlk im sorry

SYNOPSIS.  aki knows he shouldn’t, but he just can’t help himself. 

CONTENT.  pwp, power imbalance (aki is the reader’s superior, but the reader has the upper hand for most of the fic), switchy dynamics (reader initiates and instructs), foreplay + teasing, dubcon (reader has persuasion/mind control abilities through a contract with a corruption devil), intoxication (aki’s state of mind is influenced by the reader’s abilities), slight corruption (m rec), blowjob, deep throating, cum swallowing, handjob, overstim (m rec), multiple orgasms (m + f), thigh fucking, cumshot, cum as lube, creampie, (unintentional) manhandling, ripping clothes, spit, biting (f rec), reader is insatiable and just generally insufferable

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING THE CONTENT STATED IN THE WARNINGS.

Aki knows he shouldn’t. 

He shouldn’t be condoning this, not when there are dozens of little Devils scratching at the door, bloodthirsty and desperate to get in—the same Devils the two of you were sent to this decaying old school to take care of. The same Devils the two of you were right in the middle of hunting down, when you’d pulled him into this crowded supply closet and kicked the heavy door closed behind you.

In the end, the Devils had been the ones to hunt the two of you down instead, and now they’re all congregated right outside the door to the supply closet. Attracted by the scent of his unease, if he had to guess. Or maybe another, more devilish, instinct that lies beneath it.

Aki shouldn’t be alone in small, dark rooms with any of his subordinates. Especially not you.

You: the Corruption Devil’s human consort—Division 6’s problem before the transfer made you Aki’s problem. And there’s no question that you are a problem; that much had become clear when he’d discovered exactly what ability your contract gives you.

You call it Persuasion; he’d call it Mind Control: an uncanny knack for getting exactly what you want, especially when it comes to things that shouldn’t be done. More specifically, your contract with the Corruption Devil—one of your many contracts with many dubious Devils, and arguably the most dodgy one of them all—grants you a certain, near-irresistible allure: you make people want to give you exactly what you want.

Near-irresistible. Not impossible to resist. There has to be some natural element of attraction present for Persuasion to really work. That’s what Aki knows from what he read in the paperwork, at least. 

He also knows that, as your superior, there’s no way in hell he should be letting you back him up against the supply shelf behind him—but the metal’s already digging into his back, and your fingers are pulling at the knot of his tie, working it loose. 

The insistent scratching at the door grows louder, and Aki manages a strained What the hell do you think you’re doing? 

“Depends, boss,” you offer sweetly, moving closer until your tits are pressed up against him. “What is it that you want me to do?” 

“This is…”

Inappropriate? Untimely? Fucking insane? Something like that; but his head’s cloudy and getting cloudier, and he loses the words as soon as you get on your tiptoes to press your lips to his throat, scattering hot kisses there as you undo the buttons of his shirt. 

He shudders, bringing a hesitant hand up to squeeze at the back of your neck—encouragement that he shouldn’t be giving, but the feeling of your tongue on his neck sends blood rushing between his thighs, and the space between the two of you so small that his stiffening cock is aching as it strains against your body. 

He knows this is risky in more ways than one: that the noises outside this tiny room keep getting louder, that the door won’t hold, that this shouldn’t be happening; but all these little things that he knows don’t mean a single thing when you’re murmuring up to him—Oh, you’re so hard. You know, I can help you out, Captain. 

Whatever misgivings he might have don’t stand a chance when you’re rubbing his cock through his slacks, and he can feel the grip of that allure—Persuasion—tightening the closer you get. Desire shoots through his veins like a drug, heightening into an insatiable craving for you, you, you—tunnel vision that narrows, senses that sharpen until all he can see, smell, hear is you. It’s a desire so intense that just the smell of you hits him with the dizzying urge for more.

And something else: an ache to please—the irresistible imperative to give you exactly what you want, whatever you want.

By now, Aki understands something that wasn’t in the paperwork: that your ability must grow stronger with proximity—and if it’s a concentrated, airborne vapor that somehow emanates from your skin like he thinks, he must be right in the thick of it. But he’s past the point of caring about which desires are natural and which aren’t; he’s already feeling you—one hand still wrapped around the back of your neck, the other slipping down the small of your back to squeeze your ass. 

And he shouldn’t, it’s not like him, but all he cares about is one thing.

It’s definitely not the banging at the door, which he only registers dully, managing the weakest of protests—They’re right there—as you sink down to your knees in front of him.

You look up with an insincere pout, retort with an equally insincere, “What’s right there, Captain?”

“The fucking Devils,” he slurs, “they’re—”

But you’re running your tongue over the stiff bulge in his slacks, and the heat of your mouth is hitting his dick through the fabric, and he’s cutting himself off with a groan.

“Are you really that worried about it?” you tease up to him. “I never thought a guy like you would stress over small fry like that. Plus, don’t you have some…” —you pause, squeezing his cock through his slacks, sending precum oozing down his thigh— “...bigger problems?” 

Another slam against the door. He wants you so badly he can barely even bring himself to say, This isn’t—I should really—

And even then, it doesn’t sound that convincing.

“Should really what?” you muse, pulling his zipper free.

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he should do; he only knows that he wants you to keep going, that you’re tugging his slacks down to pull his cock out, and it feels so good when you grip the throbbing shaft that he’s oozing precum all over your fingers and moaning before you even start to jerk it. 

“You should really take care of those Devils, right?” you laugh, leaning forward to spit messily on the tip of his dick, smiling up at him when he inhales sharply through his teeth. “Go do something about them, then,” you say—spit coating the length of his cock as you stroke it, spit glistening on your upturned lips in the half-dark—it’s a dare.

In those truth-or-dare games as a kid, Aki would always choose truth; he’s come to terms with the truth of this situation—that he should take care of the things beyond this room, but all he cares about is what’s happening inside of it. 

He’s too far gone, too hooked on the feeling of your mouth as you swallow up his dick. All the way, until the tip of your nose hits his pelvis and he’s twitching in your throat, leaking hot precum balls-deep in your mouth. You pull back when you have to gag, then swallow it again—bobbing your head over and over, leaving him covered in spit and moaning from the soft, wet flesh of your cheeks and your tongue on his cock. It’s so good; you fuck him with your mouth until he’s one swallow away from cumming down your throat.

He holds it, tries to pull out, slurring, God, I’m gonna—, but you ball your hands up in the fabric of his shirt to pull him forward, sucking him in to the base again; and he’s knotting his hands up in your hair, groaning—You wanna swallow my cum? 

You gargle around it, digging your nails into his skin. So he stays where he is—one hand resting on the back of your head, his dick buried in your mouth—and lets the pleasure hit, twitching against the tight ridges of your throat with each spurt of cum he shoots into you. 

You cough, choking on it over and over, with tears pooling in your eyes. But you keep it down until he’s done, swallowing almost everything he gives you, so there’s just a little pool of thick white left on your tongue when he pulls out. The sight of his cum in your mouth sends his head spinning, sends more blood between his thighs—but he’s still hard, never went soft; he wonders, studying you through lashes weighed down by pleasure, if it’s a result of whatever you’re emanating, or if he just wants you that badly. 

He pants, tries to catch his breath, but he doesn’t even have time to do that before you wrap your fingers around his cum-coated dick. He grits his teeth, swears at the intensity, watching you tilt your head, part your lips, and adjust to take his balls in your mouth. It’s sloppy, messy: sucking him with spit dripping from the corners of your mouth and your fist slippery with cum as you jack the sensitive tip of his cock. 

It’s—ah, fuck—it’s—

It’s too much, it’s so good; something in between the two. He’s groaning, gripping the metal of the shelf behind him as another high builds, intensifying when you start to moan with your mouth full of him—a needy, muffled sound that goes straight to his head and clouds whatever coherent space might have been left with one urge: he needs to fuck you.

Something hits the door from the outside with enough impact to make the hinges groan.

Fuck, he slurs feverishly. It’s not gonna hold, c’mere, get up. 

You’re up, pulling him down by the collar and into a sloppy kiss; he tastes his cum on your tongue, feels the desire flare in his chest like he took a hit, runs his hands down your sides.

So are you gonna fuck me? you ask, pulling away to look up at him through your lashes. Or are you gonna stall until the door breaks?

His hands catch your hips; he squeezes, twists you around before pushing you forward against the metal with enough force to send supplies rattling off the sides of the shelf and crashing to the floor.

“Shit,” he says hazily, so drunk on the intensity of the want in his veins, his head so muddled with it that he’s worried maybe he hurt you. “Are you okay?”

But you’re laughing, hands tight on the metal; he dips his neck down to bury his face in your throat, to get closer. Because the closer he gets, the more intoxicating the smell of you is—the more addicting.

“Attaboy, Captain,” he hears. There’s a buzz in your voice, as if he’s hearing you through static. “To be honest, I didn’t really think you had it in you.”

He takes a deep inhale of the dizzying, up-close smell of your skin, and slurs, “Why’s that?” 

“You’re Public Safety’s good boy, aren’t you? Proper, moral, obedient. I know you play by the rules. You do whatever they tell you.”

He’s sucking at the skin of your throat, pulling blood to the surface over and over, and you’re laughing, “But look at you now. Getting your dick wet on a mission. Fucking the subordinate you’re supposed to be protecting.” 

He laughs wryly against your throat. “God,” he murmurs. “You’re such a pain in my ass, did you know that? This is all because of you.”

“You’re as depraved as they get,” —your words are shaky, disrupted by your shudders as he nips at your throat; he runs his tongue over the skin, feels an instant head high the moment he tastes you— “but I like it for you. Keep going.”

The taste of you is like an addiction; he can’t get enough, keeps licking and sucking your skin and getting himself higher.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he says without thinking, barely even in his head; his body seems to move on its own, his hand slipping down the front of your slacks to rub over your pussy through the fabric. “How long have you been wanting this?” 

There’s a series of bumps at the door as he unbuttons your slacks, pulls your zipper down, hooks his thumbs over the sides and pulls them down, bringing your panties down with them. His dick leaks precum onto the bare skin of your ass. 

“It’s been—” you say, breaths catching when he positions his cock at the apex of your thighs from behind and slides in between them, “—it’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” he slurs, with his dick throbbing between your thighs—slick from your pussy, hot from your warmth, “I thought so.”

He spares a glance back at the door, watching the shadows swarming in the sliver of light beneath it; he’s running out of time, but he could spend forever nestled between your thighs, feeling the slick from your pussy dribbling out onto his dick, getting the shaft sticky and warm. He places one hand on the shelf next to yours, rests his weight there as he sucks your throat, each second at that proximity getting him drunker.

“Don’t act like you haven’t wanted it, too,” he hears you say through the fog in his head, each sentence punctuated by a gasp. “Just because you never acted on it doesn’t mean you didn’t want to. My Devil shows me how easy someone would be to Persuade. I know exactly how much attraction is already there. I barely even had to do anything and look at you—I could give you any command in the world and you’d do it.” 

His free hand is on your tits now, squeezing, kneading. “So why don’t you?” he murmurs.

You laugh a little. “Okay.” And then comes the command: “Touch me.” 

The urge surges in his chest—the imperative so compelling that he forgets all about the buttons on your shirt and instead balls his fist up in the fabric right where it is and pulls, tearing your shirt open. Your buttons go flying: some to the shelf, some to the floor; but he doesn’t apologize this time, just slips his hand through the opening in your shirt to pull down your bra and knead your tits. They’re warm in his palm, soft enough to make his dick pulse against your ass.

“And what else do you want?” he murmurs.

“Move,” you instruct. “Don’t make me wait.”

You were right; he is obedient, he does follow instructions—especially when you’re the one giving them, especially right now, with the fog in his head and that control of yours overwhelming him. He does just what you ask—moves: licks the fingers of his free hand and brings them to your clit to circle it as he fucks the slippery space between your thighs, sliding his dick back and forth until he’s coated in your sticky, hot mess.

“I’ve got the most morally upstanding guy in Public Safety,” you laugh shakily, squeezing your legs around his dick, “and he’s right between my thighs.” 

“Can you blame me?” he says hazily against your ear, overtaken by the desire for more instruction, another opportunity to please. “I just wanna give you everything you want.” 

There’s a cracking sound at the door: wood splintering, maybe, but he doesn’t care about that when you’re saying, I want you to put it in, I want to feel your cock stretching me out. 

That little half-gasp, half-moan when he pushes past your tight entrance; the feeling of you clenching on his dick, your gooey walls sucking him deeper as he eases into you—it’s overwhelming. It’s almost as addicting as the smell of you, as the sounds you make when he fucks you up against the shelf, nipping at your ear and asking—Is this what you wanted from me? 

Yeah, you gasp, now fuck it deeper.

And he does; he buries his cock all the way in you over and over, slurring, Spoiled brat, you always get exactly what you want, don’t you?

Always.

And what do you want now, huh—do you want me to make you cum?

You slur an affirmative with his fingers rubbing your clit, so he fucks you harder—hitting some spot that makes you moan Right there. A few more deep strokes in the same place and then you’re cumming: walls pulsing around his dick, gasping and moaning and squirming, pressed up between him and the shelves; it takes everything in him not to pump you full while he fucks you through it. 

He pulls out when it’s over, but you whine for more: Put it back in, I want you to fuck me until you cum. 

So he pulls you over to the little desk sitting beside the shelf, pushes the things on it to the floor in the same second that he bends you feverishly over the surface. You’re laid out over it, hand gripping the opposite edge, and he watches it tighten as he nudges your hips up and eases back into you.

Whatever you want, baby. 

He buries it deep, feels your sensitive walls tense up as he leans over you—one fist balled up on the desk, the other gripping your hip. There’s a crash at the door, another loud crack; but you’re turning your head to him and he’s tilting his, slipping his tongue into your mouth to swallow up your moans as he fucks you from behind. 

And when he pulls away to nip at your lips you’re slurring instructions: fuck me deeper, fuck me harder, give it to me. Each little command makes his head spin; the grip you have on him is so strong, and your pussy is eating him up so greedily—how could he not give it to you exactly how you want it? How could he not fuck you deeper, harder, give it to you until your thighs are shaking, until everything’s so wet and tight and your moans are turning into pleas? 

It feels so good fucking into you that when you tell him to shoot his cum all over your pussy it only takes one more thrust before he’s ready to give it to you; and then he’s pulling out, breaths catching, jerking his fist over his cock until the tension snaps. His cum spurts out onto you—coats your puffy, glistening lips and stretched hole in a sticky white mess.

He leans over you: fucked out, head hazy, his dick still twitching in his palm—still hard as he watches his cum dribble down the outside of your pussy. And when you tell him to fuck you again—put it back in, I want more, make me cum again—he drags the sensitive tip through his own cum, smears it over your hole, and pushes it back into you while it’s still hot. 

Hot and—God, it’s wet, he’s groaning; it’s wet and tight and so slick in you, so lubed up with your juices and all of the cum he pushed back inside that the thick white liquid smears back onto his cock with each stroke, gathering all over the shaft and the base. He grips your ass, spreads you out, watches the rest of his cum drip down your skin, watches his cock disappear into your pussy with his teeth gritted against the sensitivity; it’s too much, but he’s so feverish with the urge to give you what you want that he’ll take it. 

He’s panting from the overstimulation, but by the time you tell him you’re close—bent over the desk with your fingers on your clit and your back arching—the pleasure’s building up again for him too, another knot tightening in his stomach. 

So when you gasp I’m cumming, and he feels the waves of another orgasm hitting you—your cum-slick walls contracting on his cock over and over—he’s right there. He’s already on the edge when you slur, Cum inside me, fill me up. 

Yeah, baby, yeah—he digs his teeth into your shoulder, and the tension snaps; with a shudder, he shoves his cock in deep and lets your convulsing walls milk him while you cum, pumping you full of the rest of it as he rides the same wave that’s making you squirm under him.

There’s a pause: just a few moments of respite.

His breaths slow as he listens to you catch yours, and for a second even the Devils are quiet.

And then there’s a deafening crash and another loud splintering sound—the door’s going to give. He’s still breathing hard as he disentangles himself from you; then he’s pulling up his slacks, buttoning his shirt and crossing the room to swipe his sword off the floor. 

“They’re about to break through,” he says, looking your way to find you reclining lazily on top of the desk. “You should get ready.”

He fixes his face with a stern expression, but for a split second he wonders about this feeling he has: the grip, the imperative—the Persuasion—is gone, but the desire lingers. 

“Can’t you take care of those Devils for me, Captain?” you smile crookedly, gesturing to your tattered shirt. “I can’t really work like this. Wouldn’t be professional.” 

Aki clenches his jaw. “You make this job even harder than it already is. You know that?”

“How so?” 

“Slovenly. Insolent. Lazy. Not to mention—”

“Gee,” you interrupt. “No wonder you like me so much.”

“Can’t stand you, actually,” he mutters, glancing at the door, which is rocking in its frame from repeated impact on the other side.

“My Devil doesn’t lie to me,” you say, studying your nails. “You’ve wanted me since the moment I joined your Division.”

“God, you’re a pain,” he says wearily as another deafening crash puts a massive crack in the door. “I’m this close to killing you instead of them.” 

“You could’ve killed them already if you weren’t wasting all your time flirting with me.”

You laugh when he rolls his eyes, then twist your face into an exaggerated pout. “Won’t you protect me, Captain?”

“Fine. I’ll take care of it by myself. Not like you’re giving me a choice.”

“Perfect.”

“But when I’m done,” he says, pulling his sword from its holster, “I think it’s time I taught you some manners.”

You smile widely.

“Yes, sir.”

THE END HAHDHD

STOPPP💀

I think I fell even more in love with this man, not the him with his shoe on my face and sword on my neck tho, I would kick him really hard if he did that to me 💀

arrival in tokyo / hayakawa aki

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

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 23.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then repeat what I said." Aki commands. 

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

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

He also happens to be pretty fun to mess with. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, come on. Just tell me." 

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

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

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

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

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

Aki scoffs, "What's it to you?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Or what?" 

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

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

"C'mere." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aki taunts, "Yeah? You think so?" 

"I know so." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tch. You're an asshole."  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't think they warrant answers." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And you have a small dick." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And? What else?" 

"And that you have a small dick." 

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

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

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

He's caught onto you, hasn't he? 

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

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

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

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

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

"You're projecting." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I… I don't…" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah, s-shit," Aki stammers, "You…" 

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

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

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

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

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

You retort, "Why should I?" 

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

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

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

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

Aki stutters, "No, I'm-" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then get on your knees." 

You don't need to be told twice. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good. That's what I like to hear." 

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh? You think it's pretty?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, "Mhmmm. Yes, sir." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirk. "Then don't." 

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

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

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

You huff, "Yeah, I'm sure." 

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

"Aki." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just as badly as you." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I will if you ask nicely." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aki-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hear the button on your pants pop. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhmm, yessir." 

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

"Open your mouth." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You manage to reply, "Mhmm.." 

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

I'm right here. Focus on me. Got it? 

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

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

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

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

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

Shit… You want me to go faster? 

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

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

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

A tight knot coils in your stomach, your edge coming closer, closer — Aki holds you tight, and he pulls his fingers out to briefly rub 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. 

CIGARETTE SMOKE

|| the third entry for the series “𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄”

content warnings ─── yandere themes, implied kidnapping, hints of smut, jealousy.

is it bad that you want to take someone just to protect them from this world? aki regretted but doesn't feel bad about it.

we devil hunters don't have the long life to live.

there's a certain annoyance that has been creeping up on me since you joined the division. you clearly didn't belong here and sometimes i would ask myself why are you here? why are you wasting your life in this hellhole for no reason. you're alive. happy. you aren't here for revenge. to avenge your loved ones from the devils. you have no purpose here. you don't belong here.

however it's not my place to dictate someone's choice of being here but you infuriate me to no end that i wished for your demise. i didn't understand why i feel this way towards you. it doesn't make sense. you were a nobody to mine. not the one i should care for but sometimes i can't take my eyes off you.

the gnawing feeling of seeing you so friendly and close to someone like denji makes my blood boil and it's easy to ignore it but i can't not when you're starting to grow on me.

what casual moments between us, i have cherished it. not realizing what effect it could have on me. i started to see you on my dreams. started to crave your presence that i can no longer breath and it hurts me so much that i have started to feel this way to you more than i would like to admit.

then we started to lay on the same bed. where can i hear you breath. feel you under my fingertips. the softness and warmth you provided for simply existing. how it provided the intimacy of comfort and security. drown in the depths of the pools of your eyes that i can no longer swim and sink in to you.

is this what it feels to fall for someone who is close but is distant. how could it be when you're the one who initiated it. how cruel are you but i can't blame you. we simply comforted each other with our bodies and it's my fault that i let myself feel what i wanted to feel.

this would be our last night together. allow me to cherish you. let me feel you. let me sink my teeth unto your skin that you will feel me for days.

the gasps and moans that left your lips breathlessly is the air i breath. say my name the way i like it. say my name as i touch you in places where it brought you pleasure. the stretch marks and scars decorating your skin that i have memorized. the curves and every swell of your body where i have kissed and worshipped. allow me. allow me. allow me. allow me to savor all of it. you won't deprive me of it. i know of it since you're helplessly under me.

that's right. that's how things should be. you and me. nothing else in this world that can stop us. not even the devils.

why won't you be mine?

the thought occured to me. why? we have shared our thoughts. the touch that i came to miss. the kisses that i denied at first and learned to crave. i have touched you. we've exchanged sweet nothings. the string of salivas connecting our lips. my lips on yours and my spent deep inside you. painting your walls white as you came around me. isn't it enough that we belong to each other. you're mine. you're mine. you're mine. you are mine.

so forgive me. forgive me that the last thing you will ever see is the smoke coming from my cigarette as i lay claim on you. protecting you from this cruel world that took the people i loved and i won't let it happen to you. i don't understand myself why i am asking for your forgiveness when i know you won't forgive but it won't hurt to ask. you're too kind and that was your mistake for having me. for letting me in your world that I claimed to be mine.

my thoughts are muddled and the only thing that keeps me sane of my reality is the light coming from the end of my cigarette and your warm body resting beside me. warm. it is a good thing. you're still alive and you'll wake up with me beside you. that's better. is all i can think as i watch my cigarette smoke disappear in the thin air like you were.

♡ threesome / hayakawa aki & angel ♡

♡ kinktober 2022 ♡

pairing: hayakawa aki & angel x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

content: soft dom aki, soft dom angel, voyerism, dirty talk, praise, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.), reader uses female pronouns, if angel can’t fuck you himself then watching aki fuck you is the next best thing

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

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." 

18+||MINORS DNI

If you start crying while Aki is eating you out he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and mumbles “You’re okay.” And you know he’s right. You’re safe with him and he’s there to take care of you.

Wanna cradle Aki’s face n kiss his neck, carefully leaving the sweetest kisses right below his ear, along his jaw, all the way down to his collarbone, taking care to show how much I love him with each kiss. Lips pressing gently but firmly onto his skin, lingering for a moment, just long enough for my love to pour into his skin, slowly soaking into him and filling him with warmth.

Aki kisses it before he eats it

fantasising about husband! aki who can no longer hide just how much he longs for you when you accidentally walk in on him.

fem! reader, 18+, friends to lovers, semi-angst, marriage of convenience, fluff, love confessions, mutual pining, (male) masturbation, making out, fingering, sitting cowgirl, dick riding, vaginal creampie

3.9k (unedited)

reblogs are appreciated ~

it’s embarrassing, really, just how quickly aki adapts to a life dominated by your presence, and yet, it happens so naturally, that without realising, he’s accepting it as easily as he does breathing. 

with the both of you now settling into the final years of your twenties, your marriage had been born from the promise of companionship, should neither of you settle with a partner of your own. it was you who had drunkenly slurred the idea after he’d accompanied you home after a night out—rambling something about how much you loved him—and because you were so stupidly inebriated, you had shrieked with laughter when he’d actually agreed. 

the promise isn’t mentioned again for the two years that had followed, until a few months after aki’s twenty-eighth birthday, and it is denji, of all people, who brings it up. in truth, after ignoring it for so long, you’d actually forgotten all about that particular night, and so, after aki shoos denji away with a carefully aimed glare, you’re pleasantly surprised when he then proposes that the two of you marry, because—in his very own words—it made sense. 

it’s not quite the proposal that you’d imagined when you were far younger, enamoured by the idea of marrying your very own prince charming, and yet, it’s all too easy to agree, and a month later, your life is eternally tied to aki’s with a single signature upon a piece of paper. 

only, a year later, and the relationship that is shared between the two of you remains strictly platonic. 

you aren’t exactly sure what you had been hoping to change once the two of you married, but even power has begun to notice that your marriage with aki isn’t at all what it’s made up to be. 

‘you don’t share a bed?!’ she’d exclaimed one evening after coming to visit and poking her nose around your bedroom long enough to discover that the wardrobe is home only to your clothes. 

‘we’re friends,’ you’d stressed, brows furrowing. 

‘yeah,’ denji had piped up from somewhere down the hall, head buried within the depths of your fridge, ‘but you’re married.’ 

‘hm, hm,’ power had nodded, agreeing, and you’d had to hide your grimace by busying yourself with shoving her from your bedroom and clicking the door shut behind you. 

the conversation had quickly changed after denji had convinced you to accompany them to lunch—‘cause you’ve got nothin’ in—but it’s still one that you catch yourself thinking about when you tuck yourself into bed each night. 

lately, more often than not, he’s the reasoning behind your last thought at night, and the first when you rouse from sleep in the morning. at first, you chalk it down to the fact that now the two of you live together, it’s only natural that he’s who you think of when ordering takeout, because it’s also obvious that you’d wonder what he’d like to eat tonight. it’s also totally normal for hope to rear its familiar heat in the centre of your chest when you return home from work—because, why on earth wouldn’t you pray that he made it home safe and sound? and, of course, it’s just curtesy to ask if he’d like to join you when you’re watching one of those shitty chick flicks that are shown every friday evening, hiding your smirk behind a cushion when he grumbles under his breath about how terrible the movie is, but still comes to slouch on the settee beside you, your feet nestled on his lap. 

there’s nothing unusual about marrying your best friend. 

at least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

until, one night, everything changes. 

it’s new year’s, and your small group of friends have gathered to denji and power’s apartment. 

it’s just the four of you crammed onto the small settee, a concoction of what smells to be both vodka and beer glaring up at you from the depths of the glass that power had shoved into the palm of your hand upon arrival. you haven’t yet dared to take a sip. 

there’s another of those shitty chick flicks playing in the background, but no one is really paying attention to the screen, all eyes focusing on the clock that has been pinned—lopsided—onto the wall. there are only a few minutes until midnight, and suddenly, you’re all too aware of the heat of aki’s thigh pressing to your own, his arm brushing against yours when he lifts a hand to push a loose strand of hair from his face. tonight, the inky tresses are free from their usual tie, and for a reason known only to the heavens, you can’t stop glancing at him from the corner of your eye. it’s not as if you’re a stranger to this particular hairdo, but tonight, the blues of his hair entice your stare back toward him, over and over, and the more you do so, the more confused you become. 

fortunately, power pins your attention onto her when she all but throws her weight onto your shoulder, giggling loudly, ‘hey, hey!’ 

‘hey,’ you hum down at her, vaguely aware of denji jumping from his seat, hopping over the back of the settee, and disappearing down the hallway.

power leans forward so that her cheek is pressed to yours. the stench of beer is heavy on her breath, and when your nose crinkles, she only laughs harder. ‘you guys gonna kiss?’ 

you don’t have to look to know that aki is staring at the back of your head. awkwardly, you clear your throat, unable to hide your wince in time. denji returns, bowl of freshly cooked fries in hand. he’s already shovelling a handful into his mouth, belatedly remembering to share by shoving the bowl under power’s nose so suddenly that, in her surprise, her left foot kicks out and connects with his knee. he howls, the bowl dropped to his lap, and power snatches it, scoffing down a mouthful herself. cheeks stuffed, she points to the clock, and a garbled yelp of excitement escapes her. 

‘look, look!’ 

there’s just a minute left. 

a warm hand eases over your crown, and the way that your spine relaxes is instantaneous. it’s reflex, the way that you curl into his side—as you have hundreds of times before—and you pointedly ignore the way that power jabs her elbow into denji’s flank, his eyes watering as he chokes on another mouthful of fries. 

the clock tick-tocks, and the tip of a nose is ghosting over the shell of your ear. his fingers tickle down the back of your neck, and the brush of his lips at your temple welcomes you into the new year. 

it’s not quite the kiss that you’d hoped for, once, when you still dreamt of new year kisses way back in your teen years, and yet, your pulse skips a beat all the same. 

‘happy new year,’ he murmurs to your cheek, thumb slipping to press to your pulse, and you know that he can feel the way that it stutters, faltering beneath his touch. 

it’s just aki, you tell yourself, because it’s easier to lie than it is to acknowledge the way that your stomach twists itself into knots. 

from over your shoulder, you peek towards him, unsurprised to see that his stare is already focused on you. he blinks, once, twice, and something in his eye shifts, his lids drooping as his gaze lowers to your mouth. subconsciously, your lips part, as if to say something—anything—to save yourself from the press of the pad of his thumb at your throat, but all that comes out is a stuttered repeat of his sentiment, the words choked upon when that damned thumb of his strokes over the length of your jugular. 

clearing your throat, you try again, despite the fact that you’re sure he can feel the perspiration that has begun to form on the surface of your skin. you force a smile, one that is returned by the crooking of the corner of his mouth, and you will yourself to feign indifference, even though you’re sure that he can feel the way that your pulse jumps at the sight. 

‘happy new year, aki.’ 

ଓ

the new year passes. 

the world settles into its usual routine, and things in your shared apartment appear to be just as normal. 

only, they’re not. 

aki has always been a constant in your life, this, you’re grateful for. yet, after new year’s, something changes between two of you. you’re a little slow to realise that all too suddenly, he’s everywhere. 

he’s there when you’re stirring your morning coffee, squinty eyed as he smiles when you thank him for boiling the kettle for you because you’re running a tad late this morning. it isn’t until you’re rushing out of the apartment, handbag swinging on your shoulder, that you realise that he is the one who is late for work, as he’s usually out of the door at least an hour before you drag yourself from your bed. 

he’s also there when you’re returning home from work, waiting to greet you as you’re kicking your shoes from your feet and slumping onto the settee with an exhausted groan of relief. the tips of his fingers are kneading at the ache that has formed in the arch of your foot, and you fail to realise that he’s staring at the column of your throat, as your eyes are closed. this happens once, twice, and upon the third time, you’ve started to become a tad suspicious, because usually, he doesn’t arrive home until long after the clock reads six pm. 

a month later, when he catches you kicking at the boiler because it’s stopped working, again, it is he who calls to have it fixed. in the meantime, he leaves freshly boiled hot water bottles outside of the bathroom door, ready for you to bundle into your dressing gown after you finish bathing under an uncomfortable spray of cold water. you’re a little dramatic, sure, when you exclaim that the cold is going to be the death of you, biting the inside of your cheek to hide the smile that tugs at your lips when he huffs, rolls his eyes, but still takes your hands in his to warm your fingers. 

another month passes quickly, and another, and another. you’ve grown long accustomed to the fingers that stroke at your elbow whenever he passes by, to the knowing smiles that conceal secrets that you’re not privy to, hidden behind the rim of his mug as he all but inhales yet another mouthful of coffee. he still comments on your shitty chick flicks, yet, sometimes, you compromise, and he forces you to sit through a range of disaster films that stretch on for almost three hours at a time. oftentimes, you’re falling asleep beneath the blanket that he’d thrown over you just an hour or so before, and yet when you wake, you’re tucked into the comfort of your own bed. 

all too soon, you find that each smile, each brush of his fingers, each cup of coffee, each hot water bottle, and each blasted three hour disaster film, are all driving toward something that you can’t control. 

spring arrives, and with it, so does the realisation that you are helplessly in love. 

and yet, it isn’t you who confesses first. 

today, exhaustion has you sent home from work an hour earlier than usual. again, aki’s brogues are stacked neatly on the shoe rack when you step inside, the front door clicking shut behind you. you’re too tired to ponder on the reason why he’s home far earlier than he should be, your feet kicking themselves free from the shape of your heels. the relief is instant, and a sigh has your chest heaving, shoulders slumping low enough for the strap of your handbag to slip down to the crook of your elbow. you allow it to thump to the floor, and you can already hear aki’s voice reprimanding you, but you’re shattered, and right now, all you want to do is go to bed. 

rolling your neck until it cricks, you shuffle your way down the hall, pausing by the living room door to see that the television is switched on, but muted. a brow raising, you move on, only to halt when you hear a noise coming from inside your room. if you were more alert, you probably would have hesitated just a second longer, but before you can stop, and think, your hand is twisting at the door handle, the door flying open. 

and there, sprawled across your bed, buried within your sheets, lies aki. 

only, aki is naked. 

the sheets are draped over his legs, his thighs spread, and between them, his cock stands proud, leaking an iridescent mess all over his knuckles. his abdomen is tense, muscles taunt underneath the surface of his skin, and your eyes linger for a moment too long before you acknowledge just what is happening. 

‘what the—?’ 

aki actually shrieks.

then, at the same time, you both yell at one another, the merge of your voices displaying varying tones of mortification:

‘what the fuck?!’ 

‘in my bed—seriously?!’ 

horrified, you’re spinning back towards the door, and he’s scrambling from the bed, and there’s a fumble, and all of a sudden, his fingers are curled around your wrist, and he’s begging you to stay, but all you can focus on is the wet of his knuckles pressing to your skin, and you blurt:

‘is that your wank hand?’ 

you’re not even looking at him, but you hear the stutter of his breath and his grip is tightening, ‘my… my what?’ 

you exhale loudly, skin aflame with embarrassment, ‘your wank hand—it’s… it’s wet.’ 

‘fuck, fuck,’ his fingers are all but ripped from your skin, and he’s stumbling somewhere behind you, cursing under his breath. curiosity has you daring to peek over you shoulder, but it appears that you’ve misjudged his ability to dress quickly, as he’s only just shoving a leg through the crumbled leg of his favourite sweatpants. and again, your stare is lingering between his legs, where his prick is starting to droop, his arousal now forgotten. only, he catches your stare, and he somehow stubs his toe on the bedside table, yelling another curse as he trips, falling flat on his arse as he does so. he’s wide eyed, a smattering of red staining both the bridge of his nose and the crests of his cheeks, and you can only gawk back at him, bewildered. 

for a long moment, there’s a tense silence that stretches between the two of you. 

you remain by the doorway, and he hasn’t moved from the floor, staring at you just as intensely as you stare at him. 

and then: 

‘i love you.’ 

your lips part, your mouth opens, and then it closes. again, you try, your tongue fumbling against the inside of your cheek, your breath catching in the back of your throat. again, your pulse is hurtling angrily at the side of your neck. again, your gaze slips, eyelids lowering, aimed between his legs, to where his cock is still half-hard, resting against the crease of which his hip meets his thigh. 

eyes snapping toward his, you squeak, ‘come again?’

he clears his throat, glancing at your mouth, once, twice, and then croaks, ‘i love you.’ 

your knees crumble, bending to accommodate your weight as you crouch before him. your face is buried into the palms of your hands, and your chest heaves as a tiny sob is forced from between your lips. there’s a relief, a hot, burning sensation that prickles at your stomach, and although this isn’t the kind of confession that you’ve dared to imagine, it’s a confession all the same. 

‘god, fuck, aki—’

he’s scoffing on a laugh, one that sounds as painful as it feels, and his hand is reaching to tug at yours so that he can see your face. ‘s’this where you say you don’t feel the same?’ 

you’re laughing—wetly, but still, it’s a laugh—and instead of answering his question, you ask: 

‘is that your wank hand?’ 

this time, he’s snorting, and his hands are pulling at you just as he’s leaning close enough that the bridge of his nose bumps to yours. it’s the only warning that you’ll receive, one that you deem unnecessary, as you’re already meeting him halfway, chin tilting upward just as his lips mould to the shape of your mouth.

you’re unable to focus on the taste of him, not really, not when his hands are grabbing at you greedily, your breath faltering when his fingers are urgently tearing at your clothes. the next few minutes are a blur, and his kisses are a flurry of tongues, gasps stolen between breaths when the blunt edges of his teeth bite into the plush of your bottom lip. there’s a pause when your shirt is all but ripped over the top of your head, his mouth like fire when his lips press to yours again, and it’s quickly followed by another pause as he helps you to shimmy you out of the remainder of your clothing. desperation has him kicking the fabric of his sweatpants from his leg, his fingers deftly ridding you of your bra, your knickers quickly joining the pile of discarded clothing soon after. 

his kisses are frantic, sloppy, and his fingers are blindly exploring each inch of skin that he can get his hands on. it doesn’t take long for him to discover the ticklish spot beneath your ribs, or the quiver of your thighs when his fingers grip at your waist, hoisting you atop him. a surprised oof escapes you, mostly formed around the fact that your head is spinning. 

things are moving quickly—too quickly—and when you manage to tear your mouth from his long enough to voice it so, he’s stilling, spine rigid as he peeks at you through a long strand of hair. 

‘wanna stop?’ the deep gravel of his tone suggests that he hopes for anything but. 

‘no,’ you confirm his hopes, the curve of your smirk smothered by the press of his lips. 

he’s mouthing at the pulse that beats a steady tune at your throat, his fingers, gentle as they pinch, stroke and tickle their way towards the centre of your legs. you shudder, anticipation trembling down the length of your spine, and when his thumb presses over your clit, your breath catches, eyes widening as you peer down at him. his touch is like fire, your skin scorched, thrilled, and he swallows down the lust-driven mewl that is muffled when he kisses you yet again. it’s almost painful, how slowly he works you open, your opening stretching around the press of his fingers, but he welcomes the feel of your lips at his throat, your teeth at his collarbone next, and your fingers twisting into the length of his hair. above him, your hips rock to-and-fro, and his fingers are tugging free with a wet squelch that has you grimacing, and him, grinning. your pelvis rolls, the plush of your cunt gliding up the rigidity of his cock, his balls heavy between his thighs, and the moan you exhale across the curve of his cheek is mirrored back to you, his lids blinking rapidly in order to watch the way that you sigh for him. 

‘love you,’ he breathes, pupils blown wide as he stares at you as if seeing you for the very first time. you’re unable to describe the warmth that is burning its way up the column of your throat, and yet, your fingers tug at his hair, again, coaxing him in for another kiss. 

‘i love you,’ he groans the syllables of your name, the width of him stretching the searing walls of your cunt wider than his fingers ever could. 

‘shit, yes—justlikethat—l-love—fuck, i love—hngh!’ repeatedly, his cock claims home inside the wet of your cunny, which eagerly welcomes him in, over and over, the schlick, schlick, schlick of his sac—long stained with the evidence of your arousal—smacked tight against the curve of your rear with each thrust as he pistons his girth past the stretch of your fluttering hole. 

‘g-gonna—ah, ah!’ and then, his slit is painting thick strands of opalescent jism that have your inner walls glimmering a pretty shade of pearl. your clit is still humming with the aftermath of your own peak, pulse deafening as it thunders an uneven beat past your tragus and down the canal of your eardrums. exhaustion has your thighs trembling around the width of his waist, spine curved as you collapse just enough to rest your cheek to the sharp jut of his shoulder, gasping loud enough to encourage the gentle hum of laughter from out of his lungs. the glide of his cock thump, thump, thumps dangerously close to the tight opening of your cervix, the seam of his sac glistening with the drooling mess that somehow oozes free from the vacuumed grip of your puffy orifice. eventually, he stills, spent, and the back of his head clunks against the wooden surface of the bedside table. 

he wheezes a laugh that bubbles from somewhere deep in his chest, and the force has his shoulder vibrating, your cheek jiggling along, until, soon, his laughter titters into something that sounds less pleasant. when the tip of his nose traces the shape of the shell of your ear, it’s cold, wet, and there’s a choked sob that gargles from the back of his throat, and your fingers clutch at his ribs, desperate to feel the warmth of him just a tad longer. ‘i love you,’ he murmurs, voice thick, hoarse, strained with the weight of a fear that you understand his ego won’t allow him to acknowledge aloud. 

still, you nose at the space beneath the cut of his jaw, and there, is where his scent is the strongest, the familiarity of nothing but him, him, him now intermingled with the salted musk that clings to the surface of his skin. and there, is where the shape of your smile eases the uneasy ache that roughly thwack, thwack, thwacks his jugular against the bridge of your nose until it begins to settle into a pace that comes with the soft exhale that flutters across the back of your head. and there, is where you breathe that no, this isn’t where you say that you don’t feel the same, because, actually, you love him too. 

he’s laughing again, vocal chords twisting around the sound of relief, and when his mouth seeks yours again, his hand comes to cup the shape of your cheek, fingers brushing at the wispy baby hairs that wind around the tip of his finger. the taste of him dominates the inside of your cheeks and the flat of your tongue, and when your fingers curl over the circumference of his wrist, the corners of your eyes crinkle with the stretch of your smile. and just as aki’s lips part—awed—you tug his hand from your skin, your fingers slotting between the crooks of his own. the corners of your mouth morph into the shape of a smirk, the dampened surface of your forehead nudging at his, and you ask:

‘is that your wank hand?’

♡ @akicore ♡ @bleubrri ♡ @half-baked-biscuit ♡ @meownotgood ♡ @nimbixan ♡ @playgrl0 ♡ @pussydrunkfyodor ♡

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let us live, if we must die. / chapter three: eclipse

You are a witch, and since the purging of all magic, you've been forced to live a life of solitude and secrecy. Your destiny was always beyond your control — until, by a pure twist of fate, you unknowingly fell for the kingdom's only prince. 

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pairing: prince!aki x witch!reader

word count: 15.3k

tags: fantasy au, royalty au, reader is fem, reader has many Thoughts, hurt / comfort, aki comforting reader, angst, but don't worry they're figuring things out

notes: thank you for patiently waiting for this chapter, I hope you enjoy it!! the next chapter will be long as well, so I appreciate your patience again... love you and appreciate you

masterlist read on ao3 join the taglist here!

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You always knew Aki was royalty. 

In the time since you first hid away in this forest, you've learned to take necessary precautions. You track the whereabouts of demons each time you go out, drawing them away with spells, and watching for fresh footprints. You learned to attune yourself completely to the magic circle you created, to be sure you'll catch the faint waves of an unfamiliar aura the moment it enters. 

Spells can summon certain books from a handful of easy to find materials, and those books can then be used to summon more. Your mother's grimoires, the few you managed to take with you when you fled the city, became your gateway into a world you'd never once known. 

Deciphering magical tomes takes patience. It's a lengthy process, but it's worth it. You've learned the means to make valuable potions, and you've mastered spells that could save your life: invisibility, hypnosis, spell-shields. With so much time on your hands, and with the unbound freedom to do so, you have no reason to ever stop honing your magic. 

You can always learn more, you can always be safer. You must be prepared for every situation, and you need to take all outcomes into account. No-one can be trusted; no-one but yourself. In the moment of truth, you can't afford to make any mistakes. You need to be ready. For anything, and everyone. 

And so, when an inexplicable, elven, injured stranger comes knocking — and promptly passes out — at your door, the first damn thing you're going to do is check all his pockets. 

It doesn't take the wisdom of a thousand year old wizard to know he was from the city. The kingdom is the only notable settlement for miles. There's small towns here and there. Farmland you'll pass if you're making your way to the gates. No offense to him — to Aki, right, you still need to learn his name — but he doesn't seem like a farm boy. Or an adventurer. Or royalty, for that matter. 

You couldn't have known. Obviously, he'd be from the city, but royalty? An alleged demon-hunter and a man of royalty, how does that make any sense? 

Staring up at the shadow-filled ceiling of your bedroom, you pull your blanket up to your chin, and rub your pained temple with two fingers. You can't seem to get comfortable, no matter how much you've been tossing and turning in your bed. The living room has been silent. Aki is probably asleep now. Your mind can't seem to stop racing, either, and perhaps that's why you can't catch any sleep. 

The clothes he showed up in were simple. Racking your brain and snuggling into your bed, you bring yourself back to the moment you met him. You recall the discomfort in his expression, the crimson on his palm. The way moonlight framed him with dark hues and fuzzy edges. 

You don't know enough about jewelry to be able to tell if the earrings on his pointed ears are the expensive sort. They're simple, black, and made with smooth metal. You remember seeing a gemstone you couldn't recognize, delicately placed in the center of a hanging star. Now that you're thinking about it, they could be worth more than your life, if you're unlucky. Or maybe they're worth nothing, you suppose. Just the sort of imitations they sell for substantial mark-ups at early morning markets. 

After the mysterious stranger passed out on your doorstep, you dragged him inside and out of the rain. You didn't have a choice in the matter at the time, really. He was already limp and Gods, was he heavy. Setting up the cot and plopping him onto it was the true challenge. 

Miraculously, you found no other major injuries once you inspected him. And thankfully, most of the plant life you collected that day is perfect for healing. 

Thankfully for him, at least. You weren't exactly thrilled to spend your entire stock on someone else. You'll have to put your plans to practice potion-making on hold, you suppose. In any case, he came at just the right time. Thank the Gods for that. 

The gash on his side was as dire as you thought. It was a jagged, clearly painful slice, no doubt made by the trained swipe of a demon's talons, and enough to make you wince when you removed his shirt to examine it. Demons usually aim for the throat, whenever possible. Aki is lucky he managed to throw one of them off its aim. 

You tended to the wound quickly, cleaning it with fresh water, and salving it with herbs. Finally, you wrapped his torso in makeshift bandages, tearing off parts of your cape when you began to run out. 

You rinsed his shirt, scrubbing what stains you could out of the fabric. Upon further inspection, you noticed his hands were covered in scrapes. His fingers are long and thin. Pretty, almost. His palms were calloused, rough to the touch. Dried blood was caked into his skin. Carefully, you scrubbed the blood from his palms and his knuckles, while you tried to keep your gaze from drifting up to his face. A pointless endeavor, in the end. 

His hair fanned out around him, still slightly-damp. His brows were pinched as he slept. Warm firelight danced softly over his features: a sharp jaw, a straight nose, messy bangs. You forced yourself to look away, your face growing hot. You can't get distracted. Before he wakes, you have more important things you need to take care of. 

Once you were all finished patching him up, you leant close to make sure he was still sleeping; his chest rose and fell steadily, he exhaled in slow, calm breaths. Then, you proceeded to rummage through what he had on him. If you couldn't pick his brain yet, your best shot at discerning who he is or what he's after would be to search his belongings — and that you did. 

His pants had no pockets on the back, but two in the front. The left pocket was empty, save for one silver coin. Money means nothing to you, and so you returned it, right where it was. A promise to get out of your hair eventually was the only payment you needed. 

The other pocket, however, did carry something. Something very, very terrible. 

In the right pocket of his trousers, you found a small, gold medallion. It was smooth, circular, with a sparkling blue gem in the middle — reminiscent of the sea, and the color of his eyes. Intricate engravings surrounded the stone: runic text you couldn't quite make out in the low light, and the sun, the moon. Along with a winged dragon, curled around the empty space. 

Your heart sank so deep in your chest you just about let it drown, and that's when you knew you were absolutely doomed. 

This is the kingdom's symbol, the kingdom's royal crest. Commoners and knights are allowed to carry similar motifs, but only someone of great importance would have a medallion with this stone, and these exact symbols. 

Sapphires are only meant to be worn by descendants of royal families. They're priceless. Imitations can rarely capture their luster, although creating them is punishable with prison time — and Gods, with the way this gem sparkles when you hold it close to the fire, your head is practically spinning. 

You hold the medallion in shaky, unsure hands, unable to tear your gaze away. The room begins to twirl around you, and the gem inside shimmers, with a depth unlike anything you've ever seen. As though worlds upon universes are hidden inside it. Your throat feels as dry as a desert, and your heart won't stop hammering. You glance up. None the wiser, the man you've saved is still sleeping peacefully, his features soft, and his lips parted slightly as he lets go of faint, steady breaths. 

Oh, you've really done it this time. Could you have crossed paths with anyone worse? 

Perhaps he's a thief. He could have stolen the medallion, snatched it right out of the pockets of some oblivious royal advisor, and now he's hiding out here to avoid getting caught. As much as you want to believe that, as much as you want to imagine you don't have a man of importance in your cottage right now, that conclusion hardly makes sense. 

This man, a thief? And one skilled enough to steal a royal medallion, of all things? With the way Aki came stumbling into your magic circle and onto your doorstep, you doubt he'd know subtlety if he was hit over the head with it. 

He doesn't talk like how you imagined royalty would — Granted, how does a royal person talk? You always imagined some sort of overly flowery, fancy speech. Like the kind in the books you've read, about places and tales you'd much rather escape to. 

Aki. You've never heard a name quite like his before. Just a few syllables, just a few letters. Kings and princes and squires usually have much fancier names, don't they? The knight in the book you've been reading is named Heinrich Vincent, and the princess is called Miss Edith Violet. Perhaps only the most important people have important names. Or perhaps, those books are just as you assumed they were: fairytales, and nothing more. 

Aki is someone special then, he must be. That's your assumption — it's the only assumption you can come to, despite how the very thought makes your chest ache. He's probably a royal guard, someone with a bit of fighting experience, who thought he could stand a chance against a forest full of devils. Maybe he's some duke's distant cousin. He could be a mere knight, accepted as royalty after he became a princess' suitor. 

Honestly, he could be anything, for all you care. Your magic is what caused him to nearly die out there. It was your spell, your doing that drew the demons together. You, heralding demons with your magic, like you're one of the archmages the history books warn about. 

Your magic. Damn it all. The predicament you've found yourself in is so much worse than you ever could have imagined. 

As the night stretched on and the rain battered your cottage, your more present problem helped to keep your worries at bay. You kept busy, preparing his medicine, and tending to the roaring fireplace. He mumbled in his sleep, occasionally. It wasn't really anything of note, merely fragmented sentences that barely made sense. Mumbled swears and slurred, barely-there apologies to no-one in particular. 

When the man awakened, you held your resolve. You ignored the skip in your heart when his soft eyes met yours. You kept your unpracticed voice from wavering, and didn't shy away from any conversations. 

It's been a very long time since you've heard someone else talk, especially this much. Those knights from ages ago only spared you a moment and a handful of words. Your own voice is comfortable, a melody your ears would gladly be wrapped in. You hate this, though. You despise the way you sound when your tone is threatening to wobble. The lump in your throat is all his fault; you can't think when he's speaking to you, can't focus on anything but the firelight as it flickers over his face. 

And Aki's voice is smooth. Ridiculously smooth. He sounds assured when he speaks, his tone deep, words careful. You can't help but be hung onto everything he says to you, your spine tingling and your heart racing. It's strange, to hear a voice besides your own for once, and to have someone else filling the empty space in your quiet little cottage. 

Aki's voice holds the ocean, every word plunging you into deeper depths, until he has warm waves rolling gently over your shoulders. Heat and exhilaration engulf you whole at the simplest of sentiments. Thinking to yourself, you toss and turn again, your worn, wooden bed creaking slightly from your movement. Even now, you can't help but think of him. You picture his voice, quiet and calm. You imagine the soft smiles he gave you, and your veins surge with a feeling you can't possibly describe. 

You could listen to him speak forever. But Aki and forever are two luxuries you aren't afforded. 

If he ever discovers who you are or what you've done, you won't even get a trial. He would hate you. You could never be allies, not with the secrets you hold. Not when he is royal, and you are a witch. 

A man with such important ties to the kingdom, royalty or not, could make your fate whatever he wished. They'd schedule your execution for the very next morning, surely. The sooner you're disposed of, the better it is for the land. Hundreds would crowd the square to gawk at the witch a nobleman captured. Your poor mother would be frowning upon you from the heavens, as she watched her only child suffer her same fate. 

Even as your eyes met those of your executioner, your hands tied behind your back with your wrists rubbed raw from the rope, and your head rested over a thick piece of wood, you wouldn't fight back. None of them would see an ounce of your magic, for better, or for worse. It would die with you, and everything would be your fault. You should have been more careful. Less kind. 

Would Aki want to dispose of you himself? Could he be the one to bring his blade down on your neck? Would his normally-gentle expression be contorted in disgust, guilt, or conviction, as he whispered a deathly quiet I'm sorry to you, before his hands tightened on the hilt? 

You aren't sure, nor do you want to know. If he ever proves dangerous, in order to survive, you would have to take matters into your own hands. He seems to trust you now, but if you became enemies, if you were ever forced to —

Aki's soft, slight smile drifts through your mind right then. In your dark bedroom, you can't help but groan, and cover your face with your hands. 

No, you couldn't, you wouldn't. And it isn't just because it's him. It isn't simply because Aki is inexplicably kind and intriguing and the first person to speak with you in years. When you imagine him discovering the truth, learning who you are and deciding he hates you, a metaphorical knife twists into your gut. You'd rather he just take you to the kingdom and have you dealt with there, because even with your life on the line, you know you couldn't hurt him. 

This man could very well lead you to your end. So why, why did you tell him to stay? 

Death has always scared you, always haunted you. You've heard the stories they tell of mages, tales painting them as wicked beings who crush those who stand in their way under their feet. You want to be better. Pin you as soft, weak, or everything in between, you hardly care. Magic was meant to help, not harm. One day, perhaps far after your lifetime, magic and death won't walk hand in hand. One day, you hope you might be free. 

And Aki — he would have died without you, you're sure of it. He might not be an adventurer, but you can buy that he's an experienced fighter. His body is covered in scars, in slashes left by devil claws or teeth. His palms are rough and calloused, which would make sense if he often wields a sword. He claimed to be a devil hunter, and when he spoke, the clearest sense of desperation present in his voice, you couldn't help but believe him. 

You are a mage. A terrible, less than human blight, according to those in the kingdom. And Aki might be royalty. If you ever wound up following him to the city like he offered, you could be punished for even laying a single finger on him. 

But were you just supposed to let him perish? 

When you stood frozen in place at your door, clutching your heart as thunder broke through the night sky above, you were reminded of the kingdom. Of the death you witnessed there: the deaths of strangers, your acquaintances, your family. Your mind whirled with the image of the man you saw through the door's peephole. Chest heaving, blood dripping over his fingers; dull crimson, like the blade of an executioner's sword. 

You've seen the way one looks when light is slipping from their eyes, with no hope left of clinging onto it. You imagined the sapphire spark to Aki's eyes fading into nothingness; crushed, and crumpling. Right then, your mind must have made itself up. 

Aki doesn't deserve to die. Royalty be damned, he doesn't deserve to be eaten by those demons, left behind in an endless forest, afraid and alone. Trusting him here might wind up as the worst, most regrettable decision you've ever made. And yet, he has already trusted you with his life, hasn't he? 

Your heart just needs to take the first, fatal step. Perhaps you need to let yourself trust. 

Fucking hell. You need to stop your incessant thinking and let yourself sleep, that's what. Honestly, you've never felt this stressed in your entire life. How in the world are you supposed to handle this? Handle him? 

He won't discover you're a mage, you'll make certain of that. You can't afford to be naive, no matter how you might be feeling. It doesn't matter how fast your heart is pounding right now as you lie in bed, sleepless, unable to keep your steady stream of thoughts from flowing back to him. Simply put, it's your fault he's in this mess in the first place — and you're going to be the one to fix it. 

With a few small adjustments, you can make sure all of the magical items in your cottage are properly hidden away. You could heal him faster, if you were allowed to use magic. A potion would have him feeling better in no time, a healing spell could seal his wound almost immediately. Though, obviously, you'll have to work with the old ways for now. You'll need to make sure you're waking up early tomorrow to gather the necessary materials. 

His wound will need to be tended to frequently, to keep it from getting infected. You'll prepare a concoction of herbs for him to take twice a day, and that'll help to keep his energy up. Rest will be important too, of course. There's plenty of normal, boring books strewn around your cottage, if he needs something to put him to sleep. As long as everything goes to plan, he should be fine to leave in a couple of days. 

Right. Just a few days, and he'll be gone. The stranger you met by chance, who you saved on purpose, will fade into the forest until he becomes a fuzzy, unimportant blip in your memory. 

Somehow, the thought doesn't fill you with the relief you would've expected. 

In your cupboard, you still have some white-hazel left. Normally, the small, thin-petaled flowers don't grow during this time of year. You've decided to start keeping some extras as of late, just in case. White-hazel makes the mind foggy. The dried petals have to be sealed carefully in a jar, because the smell alone can get into your head. You would use small batches of it to ward away demons, before your distraction spells were perfected. 

You doubt you'll ever be able to forget him. However, with a potent enough dosage, if you gave Aki some of those petals, you could erase every memory he has of you. 

You'll allow him to stay, just long enough so he can recover. Once he's healthy, you'll send him on his way with a filled flask — a potion, infused with a hint of your magic. He'd only need to take a sip or two. Then, everything up until the moment he entered the forest would be lost. He wouldn't remember you, or your cottage, or the pain the demons brought upon him. It's better this way, really. 

In the meantime, you must avoid growing closer to him. Revealing even the smallest of details could put you at risk, before you have the chance to make good on your plan. He doesn't have to know your name. Nor anything about you. 

Aki is nothing more than a stranger, an unlucky coincidence, an empty promise. Ultimately, he will stay that way. 

When you eventually drift off to sleep, it isn't until hours later. Your heart stays tied up in knots, and you dream of nothing but a cold, shuddering darkness. 

— 

One thing's for sure, if Aki is a man of royal blood, he certainly doesn't act like it. 

He isn't… uncouth, as a fancy nobleman might call it. Actually, he's pretty damn polite. He always keeps his space in the living room tidy. His voice is gentle when he speaks to you, dripping with a thick sense of kindness you aren't at all used to. In the few days since he first started staying with you, he's been nothing but patient and respectful.

He's kept to resting, mostly. After the first night, you managed to move all of your spellbooks and magical items to your bedroom. By the second, you had properly concealed everything behind magic that should be impossible to detect. Although you weren't about to give him a reason, you finally made sure to mention he should continue sleeping in the living room, and avoid entering your bedroom under any circumstances. 

When you told him this morning, Aki didn't question it. He flashed you a slightly amused look, while he tugged on the laces of his boots to tighten them, and plainly, he answered, Of course. It's your bedroom, obviously I wouldn't go in. Do you take me as rude? 

Huh. No, he's far from rude, even though you never wound up formulating a response. He doesn't complain about the bitter herbs you have him take. He barely winces or grumbles while you tend to his wound, rewrapping his bandages. 

Sometimes you'd find him pacing around the living room to stretch his sore legs, but otherwise, he's been getting plenty of rest in his cot — just as you'd instructed. He's so quiet some days, if you're reading or tidying things in your bedroom, you'll tend to forget he's even there. Aki is different from what you were expecting, that's all. 

He's a good sort of different, though. Maybe it's your fault, for having such silly expectations in the first place. You thought people from the kingdom — especially people of royalty — were supposed to be stuck-up, selfish, boring. Overly-posh, and with nothing interesting to talk about besides themselves. 

You admired those from the castle when you were younger. You wanted to be noticed by them, or maybe you wanted to be them. Now, you can only imagine royalty as bland and heartless. They spend their days cooped up in their castles, tending to dull affairs. And for their nights, they attend such fancy dinners and parties, while the commoners in the kingdom are left to rot. 

Aki serves to defy all of those expectations. 

Granted, the moments you've spent together since the night you first took him in have been few and far between. He didn't seem to notice how you initially avoided him, and he didn't protest when you'd leave for the entire day to forage. He doesn't comment whenever you stow away, the door to your bedroom shut tight, while you keep to yourself for hours at a time. It's difficult to find words whenever he's near. You get choked up inside, your heart pounds in your ears like that of a frightened rabbit, and you aren't sure if it's because of the lingering fear, or perhaps the proximity. 

Tending to his wound shouldn't be the event your overthinking brain makes it out to be, but Aki sits so close, closer than anyone else has ever been. You can hear the echoes of his breathing, can feel his soft and scarred skin underneath your fingertips. His muscles tense as you press gently to the sore scrape on his side. 

Can he hear the quickened edge to your breathing, too? You wonder if Aki knows he's already killing you from the inside; no-one has ever trusted you like this, just as you've never trusted another. It's relieving to know your foolishness is mutual. 

Your conversations while you're patching him up are pleasant, albeit brief. They're space and silence fillers. Still, it's the only time where you truly get to talk to him. Where you can exchange more than a couple of words, at least. You know you only have yourself to blame, but you don't want him to realize you know more than you're letting on. You try to keep your time together and your questions to a minimum. 

Aki explains that although he's found himself in plenty of scuffles with devils before, he hasn't been wounded like this in quite a long while. Weaker devils rarely faze him, but this time, he was distracted. It'll be relieving to finally recover, he says. He wants to be able to move, to fight again. He's been growing a little stir-crazy here, apparently. 

In a hurry to leave, are you? You mumbled, while you carefully pressed a damp rag to his skin, your gaze focused on the task. The fireplace crackled from beside you, warming your limbs and chasing away the cold chill of the night. You miss the kingdom that much? 

I don't miss it at all. Aki answered, not missing a beat. He shivered from the coolness of the cloth, a fire-lit glow pooling over his slightly-tanned skin. I just feel like I could be more useful. I'm not accustomed to… to this. You're the first person I've ever owed my life to. The sooner I recover, the sooner I can begin finding some way to repay you. 

You wanted to reassure him repayment won't be necessary. In the end, you held your tongue. 

Aki continued, and with nothing else to fill the air, you listened. He's quite a good story-teller, in your opinion. As your fingers curiously felt the ridges of another deep scar on his stomach, Aki recounted the tale behind it: he was far from the city. Miles and miles, in fact. The devil he encountered was three times his size. It had a body made of bone, with a wolf-like, hollow skull, illuminated only by red eyes that shone like glowing, flickering flames. 

And you defeated it? You hum in slight disbelief, a brow raised; this time, you're looking up at him, bandages held loosely in your hands. All by yourself? 

Yes, all by myself, Aki answers, tone smooth and unflinching. His expression can't be read, but you swear you catch a hint of a barely-there smile on his lips. 

Defeating it was the easy part, He says, pointing to the jagged scar, Save for the blow it landed right here. I followed its trail into the mountains, and by the time I tracked it down, I was utterly lost. I slept out there for three days before I finally found my way back to the closest town. I showed up exhausted, hungry, and covered in every kind of scrape and bruise you can picture. 

You smooth out his bandages and secure them with a tight knot. Sounds like how we met. 

Yeah. Those townspeople weren't as kind as you are, though. They fed me river snails. 

Right then, you can't stop yourself from laughing. You're chuckling through your words — he sounded so damn serious — and you're gazing up at him with a rather playful grin. 

Snails? You question, Did they taste disgusting? 

Aki is smirking slightly, a potent spark burning in the back of his sapphire eyes. They were awful. Way worse than any medicine you could ever give me. I guess the people there thought the snails had healing properties- It took me a whole week to recover, by the way. And the inns were out of rooms, so can you guess where they had me stay? 

I'm not sure. Where? 

A brothel. 

When you freeze, your eyes going as wide as a full moon, Aki clears his throat, and he nervously glances between you and the fireplace. It was uneventful. Very, very uneventful. Definitely nothing like what you must be imagining- sorry. We should save the rest of those stories for another day. Right? 

You remember rolling your eyes, before you breathed an amused exhale, and proclaimed that yes, it certainly sounds like a stupid story, but you would like that. 

The logical side of you says you probably shouldn't. Aki isn't your ally, nor could he ever be your friend. Looking forward to the few moments you spend together is pointless, when the both of you will be forced to forget them in a few day's time. 

Aki's experiences are enthralling. His voice is like a damn vice, lulling you into getting lost in him. You haven't been anywhere but the kingdom many ages ago and this forest. But Aki has seen towns, oceans, and mountains. In pursuit of the devils he's set out to slay, he's been to places you could only dream of. He is a dream you cannot have, a friend you must not make. 

As the days stretch on and on, and as your forgotten dreams meld with the intricate stories Aki recounts for you, those little talks seem to stick inside your mind. 

If only things were different. If only you weren't you, and he wasn't what you know him to be. A man of royalty, conversing with a witch. 

Darkness will always be ruined by light. 

For now though, you have to focus on the present. Aki has been healing well from his injury. In only a few days, he's recovered most of his energy. Although he still needs a bit more time before he can put a true amount of strain on himself, he's fine to walk, at least. Fine to leave the cottage, as long as he isn't wandering far. 

And he's well enough that he can finally join you, as you venture into the depths of the forest to search for the belongings he left behind. 

— 

"Do you think my bag is still out here?" 

Staring down at your feet, you breathe a light tsk at that, and you kick a pebble with your next step forwards to send it skittering in front of you. "Possibly. Demons don't tend to mess with human junk. What did you have in there?" 

Aki hums in thought, his brows pinching. He attempts to count by using his fingers. "I had a notebook, a pen, some ink, some gold… some clothes, I think. Nothing too important." 

"If they got into your bag, maybe they'd take the coins," You answer methodically, "But otherwise, everything should be right where you left it. Keep an eye out, and let me know if anything starts looking familiar." 

The bright rays of the sun warm your bare skin, shining onto your arms and shimmering over the rippling, shallow water. You've been following the river's edge for a while now, walking along the path it creates while occasionally veering closer to the forest to look around. Aki couldn't recall exactly where he was attacked; not that you can blame him. That night was dark, stormy, and either way, every tree and bush and field of grass looks exactly the same. However, he did remember hearing the babble of the river nearby. Following it gives you the best chance of finding his things, you suppose. 

Today, the sky is bright blue and cloudless. Gravel crunches under your boots. The river laps at the rocks, and morning songbirds chirp from the distant trees. With your hands shoved in your pants pockets, and your gaze focused on your feet, you make sure to take careful steps over fallen logs and twisted roots. Aki keeps pace beside you, following you more than he's following the river. 

His hair is half-tied up like the day you met him, showing off his delicate earrings and pointed ears. He looks much different in the sunlight. More handsome, surely, spotted rays shining through the forest's canopy to paint amber patterns across his skin. The sleeves of his tunic have been rolled up to expose his scarred forearms. 

He keeps a healthy level of distance from you, not straying too far or walking too close. He's glancing between the path ahead, the forest, and sometimes to you. You're glad. If he was any closer, you doubt you'd be able to keep your thoughts clear. 

Demons — or devils, as he calls them — are few in number during the early morning hours, so you made sure to leave with Aki just after dawn. By now, you likely have two or three hours at most, before the devils start appearing from their dens. 

You're already halfway along the river's trail. You should be able to finish searching, and you'll have plenty of time to head back to the cottage. You'll plan to collect some herbs and mushrooms on the way back. That way, locating Aki's belongings or not, this trip won't end up a total bust. 

You'll find his things though, hopefully. This side of the forest was where you placed your distraction rune. 

Aki has to walk a bit slower than you. Clearly, he's trying not to let the pain still left in his side show; he doesn't wince or falter much from the pace you've set. Although you don't mind, you aren't used to having to wait for someone else to catch up. You fall into a rhythm of skipping ahead, hopping over stones, and then stopping once you get a short way in front of him. Aki gives you an entertained look when you wait, turning back to glance at him. You decide to deliberately slow down to keep yourself at his side, and you try to ignore the heat you feel budding at the back of your neck. 

The sun's warmth is calming. It shines sparsely through the trees, evoking a heavy feeling in your veins when it hits your skin. If it wasn't for Aki walking so close beside you, you'd probably have fallen asleep standing up. You roll your shoulders backward, and stretch your arms to the sky. Then, you yawn, trying to blink away the fuzziness in your vision. To no avail, unfortunately. 

"Tired?" Aki pipes up. You hadn't noticed he was looking at you until his voice startled you awake. 

You rub your eyes, shrugging. "Kind of. But I'll be fine." 

If you instead were honest with him, with yourself, you are very tired. Your head feels weighed down by thick stones, as large and cumbersome as the ones in the river bed. Your limbs feel weaker and more sluggish than usual, as though they're actively working against you. Since Aki started staying in your cottage, you haven't slept well at all. Last night, you kept tossing and turning, thinking just to think some more. Your mind won't keep steady. 

You hate not knowing exactly what you're supposed to do. You hate that you can't figure him out, no matter how much you think or try to pry information from him. Your messy plan could go awry a thousand different ways because of a thousand different things and — 

Aki is still staring at you. Blinking, you turn away, hoping he didn't notice you zoning out. 

"You sure?" Aki asks, a brow raised. Okay, he totally noticed. "That's probably the fourth or fifth time you've yawned in the past five minutes. We can take a break, if you'd like. I wouldn't mind pushing our search back to tomorrow." 

"I'm okay, really," You scoff. You kick another pebble, and watch as it flies into the river, pushed by the current for a bit before it slowly sinks to the bottom. "Let's just hurry. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we'll be safe from demons." 

For a couple of moments, you both fall into silence. The only sound to echo between you is your boots crunching the gravel. But still, Aki's gaze is on you: astute and sparkling. Even though you're staring at your shoes, you can clearly see him glancing at you from the corner of your eye, his mouth pressed into a focused line. He's pondering. Was it something you said? 

You didn't mess up, did you? 

Aki breathes a small hmm, and he calmly concludes, "You aren't familiar with devils, are you?" 

Suddenly, you're stopping in your tracks. Aki freezes beside you. His expression is unreadable as you turn to face him, giving him a particularly annoyed look. 

"What makes you say that?" You retort, hardly trying to hide the bit of harshness laced through your tone. You've been fighting the stupid creatures for almost your entire life, of course you're knowledgeable about them. Knowledgeable enough, at least. 

"Well, you call them demons," Aki replies, sounding indifferent. "Pretty sure my great grandparents were the last ones to call them that." 

"It's the same thing." You turn back to following the river, and continue walking while you speak. "I've survived out here for as long as I have, with demons lurking in every inch of this forest. And you think I know nothing of them?" 

Demons. You couldn't recall what your parents might've called them, or what those in the kingdom knew them as. During your earliest days in the forest, you remember summoning a book on, to quote the book's title: Formidable Demons and Magical Creatures. The book must have been centuries old. At the time, you didn't have enough experience to decipher it. You flipped through the pages and memorized the illustrations of "known demons", before tucking the tome away on your shelf, to be read at a later date. 

Damn. You have plenty of first-hand experience, but if most of your knowledge is sourced from some dusty old book you never actually wound up finishing, maybe he's right. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way," He apologizes, speeding up a bit so he can continue walking beside you. "I'm not knocking how resourceful you are, it's impressive. Perhaps I should have worded it differently. You're familiar with devils, yes. But I think your perspective of them might be much different from mine." 

Your eyes narrow. Thinking, you cross your arms in front of you, and your gaze drifts back to the path ahead. 

"Okay, so," You start, your words a bit less assured this time, "I know demons- devils- come in multiple forms. They feed off of fear, they're always carnivores, and they can only be slain, they'll never die of old age. There. Promise you'll cut me some slack if I missed anything." 

"Don't worry," Aki hums, "That was perfect. Devils grow stronger in the presence of fear. I'm sure you already know as much. They become drawn to the fear people have for them, like a moth to firelight." 

When you find yourself absently glancing back towards Aki, your eyes wind up meeting his own. Holding his gaze feels soft, as though you're falling into clouds. You examine the distinct, pointed shape of his ears. His earrings shimmer once they catch the sunlight, and sway slightly with each of his steps. 

"Correct me if this isn't right, but I've heard demons love elves." Your brows form the slightest pinch. "Supposedly, their blood is ripe with magic." 

Aki laughs. "Those stories about elves are just tales. My blood is no more delicious than yours. And either way, even if it was true, I'd wager devils haven't done a very good job at making me their prey." 

"Makes sense. I guess those creatures don't care whose blood they're spilling, as long as they can get their fix of it." 

"What else do you think of them?" Aki asks, his head tilted slightly in your direction. "Of devils, I mean." 

You fall silent. Cautiously, carefully, you attempt to figure out what sort of answer Aki is wanting to hear. 

The oldest tales, just as old as the ones you once read about elves and kings and long-gone magical creatures, say devils were born jealous of humanity. They envied the magic humans were capable of using — and so, they sought to extinguish it. Your current understanding would tell you devils don't care for magic, or humanity, or jealousy. All they desire is destruction, for common folk and mages alike. 

The relationship between humanity and devils is reciprocal. Humans and elves are the only ones capable of destroying devils, but devils need people in order to grow stronger. Devils need their fear, their torment. Weaker devils will go after whatever they're capable of hunting, but intelligent devils know how to bend people to their advantage. They excel at manipulation. And as senseless as it might seem, devils do possess plenty of things humanity does not. 

You fiddle with the straps of your backpack, running your thumbs over the smooth leather and gold buckles. In response, you can only think to offer the most simple, obvious of statements. 

"I think anyone who chooses to make a deal with a devil is a fool." 

Aki goes quiet. Then, he grins, and breathes something of a half-laugh, half-sigh. The gentle sound does well to put you at ease. 

"Yeah," He replies, "Foolish, greedy, or desperate. Or perhaps all three. Careful-" 

Nearly tripping, you stop when he does. You almost walked right into a large log, where the river bends and breaks upon the mossy wood blocking its way. Aki briefly extends his hand out for you to take, but you hop over without his help, taking a large step over the log before returning your hands to your pockets. 

He's making that same endearing, pondering face again. 

"You've probably already heard this story, but," He begins, speaking while you both walk, "They say devils came into existence the day the elves cast their first spell. Mankind was impure. The Gods made devils our punishment for casting magic ripe with impurities. When elves first discovered healing spells, devils began to appear with the ability to heal themselves of any attack inflicted upon them. Humanity discovered fire magic. Then came devils with fire-drenched skin. Their bodies melted metal, and they scorched the ground they touched, leaving an ashen trail in their wake." 

You like the way Aki tells stories. He recounts them in such a deliberate way, as though he's reading directly from one of your fairytale books. This story is grim, and certainly one you've heard before. Yet, you can't stop the smile that begins to tug at your cheeks. 

"Mhmm. And then, the devils slaughtered everyone and left the world in ruin," You tease, glancing towards him playfully, your hands at your hips. "Do you enjoy scaring children with that old story?" 

"Occasionally. My version of it usually ends with humanity defeating the devils, though. You know, happy endings and such." 

"Right. A happy ending sounds nice. Don't want to scare them too much." 

Aki hums in agreement. "We could have one- a happy ending. That story isn't over yet." 

His story, or yours? 

You swallow, thickly and heavily. The trees above you whisper in the slight wind, and the river babbles, flowing steadily downstream. You try to keep your focus on the path ahead of you, instead of Aki walking beside you. 

"It's just a story," You assert. "Maybe magic was the source of demons a thousand odd years ago, but it hardly matters now." 

Aki's mouth forms the faintest pout, and he glances down at his shoes. "I'm sure it isn't much of a surprise, but I've never actually seen magic." 

"You probably never will," You answer, your voice turning somber, resolute. "People believe magic and mages to be dangerous. As long as they continue to think anyone capable of casting magic is a devil themselves, you won't even hear an utterance of the word." 

"Do you agree with them?" Aki asks flippantly, a brow raised. 

"Huh? What do you mean?" 

"Do you think mages are dangerous?" 

Out of everything he could have said, everything he could have possibly mentioned, why would Aki ask you such a question? 

Right then, you're sure your heart must have defied gravity and reason to drop directly into your throat. You nearly choke. Your spine prickles, unease running rampant through your system. You aren't sure how you manage to come up with any words in the first place, but somehow, you decide to talk without thinking. 

Your shoulders feel tense. "Obviously. Magic could be used to level a city, to mind control a king, to win any war. Or to start one, for that matter." 

Aki hums. For once, his smooth, persistently calm voice grows close to getting on your nerves. "It's difficult. Magic has already done so much harm, but it could do just as much good. When I think of mages, I just see… people. People who want to survive. They aren't monsters or devils." 

You stop in front of him, and he stops with you. Aki's head tilts slightly. As though he knows you want to speak, he's just waiting for it. 

"You know," You're starting, brows pinched, arms crossed, "Those sorts of statements could get you strung up for heresy." 

"Good thing we're far from the city then, right?" 

Nearly, in a hazy mix of confusion and exhaustion and fear and admiration, you almost form a rebuttal. Your arms drop to your sides, and your hands become clenched into fists. Your lips part slightly, to say something your mind hasn't quite decided on yet, just to close at the tightening of your jaw. He's messing with you. He must be. 

Mages aren't people — You aren't like him, you are fundamentally different. Surely, he knows what mages truly are as well as you do. You were born with a spark in your veins and a fire at your fingertips. Humanity, and perhaps the Gods themselves are afraid of you. No-one can stomach you but yourself. Aki is but a man; a foolish, stupid mortal. And you were promised a cage. 

Aki's gaze on yours appears to soften, his arms crossed loosely, his gaze flickering from the conflict on your face to your stiffened posture. Nervously rubbing your arm with your palm, you can't meet his eyes anymore; you can only look away. Your vision chooses to focus elsewhere, on anything but him. Fortunately, just beyond where Aki is standing in front of you, if you squint, you can spot something at the edge of the trees. A leather bag, partially torn open, resting in a patch of grass and tiny flowers. 

"Hey, is that your stuff?" 

Aki's eyes widen, before he turns to look in the direction you've started pointing towards. 

"Well, shit." 

— 

The scene surrounding where Aki's bag lay discarded is true to what he previously described to you. 

As you approach, and as Aki kneels down to gather his things, you glance around the area. You find his sword amongst the grass a foot or so away, steel separated from hilt, the blade tainted with dull blood-stains. The steel is chipped — from gradual wear or from a devil's fangs, you aren't quite sure. His bag is crumpled. A medium-sized hole has been torn into the side, certainly made from a devil's sharp teeth. For now, you slide your pack from your shoulders, and allow him to put his belongings inside. 

There's no gold in his backpack, nor could he find any in the grass surrounding it, of course. There is, however, some rations, a spare tunic, a quill pen, and a notebook — still in his bag, so thankfully, the pages were kept dry from the rain. 

Aki fussed over losing a jar of ink, but you assured him it wouldn't be a problem. It'd be best to head into the woods anyways, to find herbs for him and food for the both of you. Black Dragon flowers are common in this area, and when crushed up, they can be used to make ink. If either of you could find a few blossoms, you'd be glad to make some for him. 

"In return," You said, as Aki rose to his feet, matching your gaze with a curious one, "See if you can find me some wood. A few branches might've fallen during the storm. I need something thick and sturdy. About this," You gesture with your hands — "Big." 

"Ah." He dusts the dirt from his knees with his palms, and hands your pack back to you when you reach out for it. "For firewood?" 

"No, silly. We have plenty. It's for carving." 

Aki smiles, perhaps considering, or perhaps recalling the little sculptures made from wood that are strewn throughout the shelves in your cottage. "Right. Deal." 

With a plan now in mind, you crammed what remained of Aki's bag into your own pack — to use for scrap material — and you ventured through the trees, and into the forest. 

It's much easier to keep your mind from wandering with a task to occupy you. Gathering some mushrooms for eating and finding the flowers you mentioned doesn't take too long. Together, you and Aki head a short ways into the forest, staying careful to keep far from where the devils often make their dens. This area is relatively safe regardless, but it's still good to be on your guard. You let yourself forget about your previous conversations, while you quietly show Aki the difference between the herbs he needs and the fauna he shouldn't touch. 

You don't talk much, only a few words at most, until you're busy gathering the last of what you need. 

Aki comes over, a smooth piece of wood held in his hands. Rested on your knees, you grab the stems of a handful of herbs, and swiftly tug to pull their roots from the ground. You glance up at him as he leans down to hand the wood to you. The canopy of trees is much thicker here. Shadows dance across his face, his arms, his palms and his clothes — still dusted with dirt from searching through undergrowth with you. 

Hardly befitting of royalty, isn't it? Isn't he? 

You smile to yourself, and chase away the thought. 

"Will this do?" Aki asks, turning the piece of wood over, while he runs his fingertips along its rough surface. "It's the best I've found so far." 

"Mhmm, that's perfect. Thank you." You take it from him, and reach for your pack beside you, flipping it open to stuff the wood inside. There's little space left, but eventually, you're able to fit it carefully beside a few small pouches of mushrooms and herbs. 

Aki stands. He hesitates, before he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with his palm. "This… might be a stupid question. But it's still okay that I'm staying with you, right?" 

"Of course it is- It's fine." You shrug, your focus kept on the foliage. With more carefulness, you gather a few of the thickest leaves. They'll be good for sealing his wound, for guiding it to fully heal. "Why? You want to leave that badly, huh?" 

Aki tucks his hands into his pants pockets. "I don't want to intrude. That's all." 

"I already told you, you're staying until you get better. No protests." Your tone seems to carry a familiar lilt of annoyance, but to his surprise, when you stuff a bundle of herbs into your pack and glance up at him once you're finished, your gaze is warm. You're donning the slightest, softest smile. 

"And just so you know," You mutter, glancing between him and your backpack as you snap it's buckle shut, "Your company isn't unpleasant." 

"Huh." Aki breathes a light-hearted huff. "Is that a compliment?" 

"Partially." 

Glancing away, looking towards the forest, he can't help but mimic your smile — shyly, almost. It's stupidly endearing. You hate how endearing he is. 

"Your company isn't unpleasant either. I mean-" He stammers, "It's nice. I enjoy talking with you. I was thinking, if you'd like, when we get back, I could-" 

Still staring into the trees just beyond you, Aki stops. An abrupt, nerve-wracking pause follows, long enough and silent enough to have your gaze flickering over him. His jaw is set. His eyes are wide, his face is slightly panicked. You swallow, freezing up. Slowly, without moving a muscle, you follow where Aki is looking — just in time to see the bushes a fair distance in front of you rustle. 

The trees sway, whispering dark promises as the wind picks up, a sharp breeze gliding over your bare skin. It's probably nothing. No, it's surely nothing. The chance of a demon- a devil- traveling all the way out to this side of the forest without outside influence is slim. You know this, and yet — 

You're fine. You have to convince yourself, you need to remember that no matter what, you're going to be perfectly fine. If it is a devil, the most important thing is to keep your cool. Level your head and breathe deeply, just as you've learned and practiced, like the books you read have instructed. In, and then out. You need to breathe. 

It's fine. It might not detect you if you're able to stay calm. Perhaps you're panicking for no reason. You're exhausted, you're seeing things. Your weary mind is playing cruel tricks on you. The longer your stare lingers on those thick, rustling bushes and shadow-filled trees, the more your breath sharpens, the stronger your heart begins to thump — Fuck, why can't you just stay calm? 

Stay calm, stay calm. This is stupid, you're acting stupid. There's nothing, there has to be nothing; no danger, no devil waiting to attack and tear the both of you in two. You won't need to defend yourself, you won't have to blow your cover. What if he already knows? With the way he brought up mages earlier, maybe he's going to run and leave you to be ambushed, maybe he planned this, maybe — 

A gentle palm is placed on your shoulder, and you practically jump out of your own skin. 

You whip around to look at the man you nearly forgot was even there; Aki eyes you with concern, never tearing his gaze from you as you scramble to unsteady feet. Standing close beside him, closer than you should be, you're focused on the forest again. Stress is present in your features, while an obvious shake lingers in your limbs. 

"Aki-" You mumble, speaking on the edge of an anxiety-ridden whisper, "We need- Shouldn't we-" 

"We're fine," Aki answers calmly, quietly. He reaches for your hand, and he grabs it softly. His palm brushes your knuckles. His fingers caress your skin as he squeezes faintly, and your heart pounds so hard it displaces your ribs. "Look." 

He points, and you allow your hazy vision to come back into focus. Through the trees, approaching cautiously while hopping among the shadows, you spot the thin legs, patterned coat, and small horns of a baby Great Elk. 

Aki hums, "I've never seen a baby one before." He murmurs low enough for only you to hear, in pleasant disbelief. "They never get this close. Sorry, are you-" 

Suddenly, as he is turning towards you, you're pushing away, and yanking your hand away from his. 

"I'm fine," You answer, taking a few steps back. At the sound of your voice, no longer hushed, the baby elk runs, scampering back into the trees. Aki watches uselessly as you retrieve your backpack and sling it over your shoulders. "Let's just go."

Your voice is unsteady. Your gaze is focused on your shoes. You clutch the front of your cape, the space closest to your heart, and you press one hand to the back of the other. Idly, your palm runs over the shape of your own knuckles, as your teeth nervously find your bottom lip. 

You understand what it feels like to let fire dance in your palms, to have spell-spawned sparks flickering underneath your skin. This is far worse. The hand Aki touched feels as though it's burning. 

"I'm sorry," He murmurs, "For a second, I really thought it was-" 

"I said, let's go." 

You're already turning, walking in a direction he'd never recall if you left him to be lost out here, and so Aki has no choice but to follow. 

He sighs defeatedly. "Okay. That's alright. We can go." 

As you and Aki walk back to your cottage, you make your way there with the most distance that's ever been between you. 

— 

"Hold still." 

"Shit- Sorry. I'm trying." 

Aki flinches as you carefully press a cool, damp cloth to his side. Squinting, using the dim light from the fireplace and the flickering candles to illuminate your task, you focus on cleaning what remains of his wound. 

These past few days, although still a bit sore, it hasn't been bleeding much. What was once a large, gnarled gash has healed into a faint, red scrape. It probably won't leave much of a scar after all. He has your medicine to thank for his quick recovery. You weren't sure how the wound might fare after he spent the day traveling through the forest with you, but aside from a hint of discomfort, he seems relatively healthy. Still energized, even. After setting the rag aside, you grab a handful of fresh bandages, which you made from the scraps of his old, stained tunic. 

"It's healed well," You comment plainly. You and Aki are sitting on the wooden floor, cross-legged, close to the fireplace. Close in proximity. The persistent heat of the fire flutters across your arms and your back, chasing away the cool night air. 

Reaching into a wooden bowl, you use two fingers to smear a thick herbal mixture onto the inside of the bandages. Then, you swiftly begin to wrap them around his bare torso, taking note of the way his muscles flex. 

You breathe a low, inquisitive hum. "Still seems tender, though." 

"It is. A bit." Aki supports his weight with his palms, leaning back to give you more room. Firelight curves over his chest, his shoulders, his collarbones. "But I'm doing alright, thanks to you. I'm sure I'll be fully healed soon." 

And soon, he'll be leaving. 

You try not to think about it as you focus on the precise movements of your hands. There's far too many stressful things you still need to mull over, and now isn't the time. 

Wrapping his bandages is a careful, but quick process; at this point, you're used to it. Aki keeps as motionless as he can manage while you tie the bandages off to keep them in place. You collect the wooden bowl in one hand, before promptly rising to your feet. He watches you snatch his spare tunic from where it hangs over the edge of his cot. He catches it once you toss it at him. 

"I'm going to make dinner," You remark, "Stew probably, same as last time." Already, you're turning on your heels, heading into the kitchen. You set the wooden bowl aside, and Aki scrambles to pull his shirt over his head. 

"Wait-"

He's rushing to come stand beside you, still straightening his tunic and fitting his arms through the sleeves, while you're plopping your backpack onto the counter. Aki reaches back, fixing his hair and pulling it from beneath his neckline. Busy focusing on opening your backpack, you give him a raised brow, a perplexed side-glance. 

"Let's make it together," Aki says — and with how ridiculous his preposition sounds, with how unheard of it is to you, you can't help but laugh. 

"That isn't necessary." You shrug, and turn back to your bag. You root around inside for a moment, before you find a small leather pouch, containing several bonnet-shaped mushrooms. 

"I know," Aki replies; he's already reaching into your cupboards, wasting no time finding a couple of bowls and a cutting board. His mind has been made, apparently. "I want to make it with you, though. Can you teach me?" 

Your eyes narrow. Your hands are shuddery as you pull the pouch open, briefly counting the mushrooms inside. Inevitably, you breathe a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping from the weight of it. Aki sets the cutting board down, his gaze flickering over you, and you dump the mushrooms out onto the counter in front of him. 

"Chop these up into small pieces. Knives are in the drawer to your right." 

He doesn't need to be told twice. 

Silence falls upon the kitchen as you and Aki prepare dinner together, side by side. His knife — your knife — echoes rhythmically against the wooden cutting board as he carefully chops mushroom after mushroom. You grind herbs to use for seasoning with a mortar and pestle. The fireplace crackles, and your foot taps against the floor just slightly. Too slight for him to hear, and not enough to calm your nerves. 

Any slight lull makes you think too much. About devils, about the kingdom. About him, and what you're going to do once he's gone. At the very least, this silence is much more comfortable, compared to the prickling stillness that befell the both of you on the way back to your cottage. You're grateful you haven't yet ruined things. 

Since then, you've barely managed to regain the faintest sliver of your composure. Your heart isn't pounding anymore, thankfully, despite how close the two of you need to stand to work together in the kitchen. You designed your space for one, not for two. The stove is in the middle of the counter, and in order to reach to dump ingredients into a pot, you need to lean so close to him your arms nearly touch. 

Instead, your heart aches, twisting and pulling at your chest, sending blood rushing to your fragile hands and making them shake each time you remember the way Aki touched you. He grabbed your right hand. It still feels warm, in a way. Haunted by a touch softer than a flower's thin petals. Your mind swims, your grip on the pestle faltering slightly. 

Gods, you're ridiculous. A more composed version of yourself would surely be scolding you right now. 

First, you let a man you hardly know into your cottage, a man who happened to be royalty, of all things. Then, you panic over nothing, getting all freaked out over a harmless baby elk. Now, you're allowing yourself to nearly lose your damned mind over such a small, inconsequential, useless touch. Over Aki's touch. 

Aki, who's life exists in a universe far removed from your own. Who is going to leave, who has a few days left before he will have to forget about you. You really, seriously need to get a grip. 

"I'm sorry," You mutter, breaking the silence, your voice barely loud enough to be heard. Aki stops though, glancing in your direction, making it clear that he did notice. "Normally I wouldn't get scared like that. You know, when we were in the forest. I just- I'm stressed, that's all. Or tense, I guess. And exhausted." 

"I knew you were still thinking about what happened earlier," Aki concludes, reading you correctly. He scoops a handful of chopped mushrooms into his palms, and places them into the already-boiling pot on the stove. "There's no need to apologize. I must have startled you. I was… scared too, for a moment." 

Aki's knife swiftly hits the cutting board as he cuts the rest of the mushrooms, and you prop your head on your palm, your fingers drumming against the counter. 

He's only partially paying attention to the task at hand. His eyes continuously and not-so-subtly keep drifting away from the cutting board, and back to you. You really wish he wouldn't. Your heart is already beginning to skip again; you don't need it running and tripping over itself while you're trying to thinly cut up some parsley. 

"You're going to chop your finger off." 

Aki stops at your words. Your gaze is focused on your bundle of parsley and scissors, but he still looks towards you anyways, breathing a slight, playful laugh. He elegantly twirls his knife in a circle before returning it to the cutting board — only this time, he makes sure to watch what he's doing. 

"I cooked for my family a few times when I was a kid," He starts, chopping a mushroom carefully and slowly. "That was ages ago, though. I think I forgot everything I once learned." 

You still remember your mother's cooking lessons like she taught them to you yesterday. Keep your knives sharp. Watch the stove, try not to use too much firewood. You can add, but you can never subtract. Were those moments the last time you shared the kitchen with someone else? 

It's a bit difficult to get used to. You keep expecting to have more work, you still feel surprised when you turn to see someone standing next to you. But it feels calming. A crisp, fluttering feeling you can't quite put your finger on — not that you want to, you'd rather not face it. You've decided it's nice to make dinner with him, simply sharing your space, even though you aren't doing anything too special. For the first time in what might be forever, you aren't alone. 

Perhaps you should be savoring this. 

"I did too," You reply, pausing the movement of your scissors for a moment. "But when I was a kid, I hated cooking. I cut my hand once, the first time I tried to peel potatoes. My mom bandaged me up. From there on out, I would cry every time she asked me to cook with her." 

Aki breathes a slight hmm, and he reasons, "You were scared of getting hurt again." 

"I suppose so." 

"Did you ever end up cooking with her?" 

"No. I remember some of what she tried to teach me, but… I mostly taught myself," You answer, briefly hesitating. "This is the first time I've tried to cook with someone else since then, I think. I like it. I like your company." 

Too honest, perhaps. Your mother might have told you to keep on your toes in this situation, to avoid giving away too much information. But your heart is already beating fast, and the words have already left you before you've thought about them. 

Aki glances at you, your gaze staying focused on your hands, on your work. You seem lost in thought. He finds it difficult to read the blank expression on your face. 

"I understand. I think I get how you feel, honestly." His voice is smooth, calm. Drifting through you, until it sparks within your chest like a brand new star. "My mother never got the chance to teach me much. She was busy working, or busy tending to my younger brother." 

"Your mom," You answer quietly, "Do you miss her?" 

"Yeah. And you?" 

Your jaw tenses, your teeth uncomfortably grinding together. You place the parsley into the pot, and dust your palms over the counter. "Of course. You always miss the family you've lost." 

He's long since finished chopping up the remainder of mushrooms, but Aki's grip tightens on the knife, and he idly taps the tip of the blade against the firm cutting board. He hums a slight mhmm in agreement. 

"My mother always said cooking was one of the most important skills one could learn," Aki continues. "I thought she'd have more time to teach me. She would tell me, 'You need to be prepared if you go off on your own, you won't always like what other people make for you.' Something like that. I'm not sure I believed her, at first." 

"Uh-huh," You raise a brow. "And then you were forced to eat river snails." 

Oh. Realizing your change in tone only after the fact, you look at him immediately, your nerves prickling, your skin heating up with embarrassment. Truthfully, you haven't had much practice with conversations; Aki is the first. You've said more to him in the past few days than you think you ever have. 

Perhaps you should've thought more before you spoke. It's one thing to say something you might regret, it's another to raise tensions with him. He was serious, and you just made some stupid joke that sounded flat enough to be a rude comment — 

But Aki smirks, he laughs wholeheartedly; the sound rings through you, tender and burning. You feel a reassuring wave travel all the way down your spine. 

"Okay, I think I would've had to try those regardless," He hums, exhaling another amused huff of breath. He drops the rest of the mushrooms into the stove pot, and with nothing else to do but wait for the stew to be ready, he swiftly reaches for a rag, and begins wiping down the cutting board. 

"They were supposed to make you heal faster, or not get sick- or something, I'm not sure," He continues, "They never actually did anything. Trust me, if I was cooking for myself, I wouldn't have opted to include those." 

"At least you tried them," You reply, shrugging. "Now you've got a good story to tell. Besides, there's plenty of things that might look awful even though they taste pretty good." 

"Truffles," Aki says through a groan, "Gods, how I refused to eat those. It drove my parents up a wall." 

"What's that?" 

Propping your head up with your arm once more, you glance at him, diligently looking at him up and down, giving him all of your attention. Aki smiles, and he sets down what he's holding to turn towards you fully. Matching your gaze, he rests his elbow on the edge of the counter. 

"They're these shitty little black mushrooms," He says straightforwardly, and you can't help but chuckle. "Apparently, they're hard to find, so… my parents would be furious with me for wasting them. My dad, he was the one who taught us to be frugal. He made me try this chocolate. Super fancy, expensive chocolate. It was similar to the mushrooms, and my dad decided to tell me they were the same. He said, 'You know those are truffles, the mushrooms you hate, right?'"

Aki lets go of a small, breathy laugh, and he glances away as he recalls the rest of his story. "It wasn't. They're only called the same thing, but they're completely different- the chocolate, and the mushrooms. He got me to try some the next time we had them, though." 

"Hm," You reply, "Did you like them?"

"Nope. I didn't finish my first bite, I spat it out." 

Smirking, your gaze meets his own expectantly. "Your dad was probably mad, then." 

"Definitely. But I was expecting chocolate. Those mushrooms are good, but you're supposed to savor them. They are the complete opposite of sweet." 

"What's chocolate?" Your eyes squint as you think, trying to remember if the name is something you've heard before. In a book, maybe. It certainly sounds familiar. "Is that a mushroom too?" 

Aki stares at you, surprised. "You've never had chocolate?" 

"Nope." 

"It's- damn." His hand comes to hold his chin, his brows pinch with faint frustration. "It's sort of difficult to describe. It's sweet. It melts in your mouth, if that makes sense. There's a lot of vendors who sell chocolate in the kingdom. When we get there, I'll buy you some." 

Suddenly, as he seems to catch himself, Aki clears his throat. He stutters and glances away, "Er- if you wanted to go with me, that is. There's no need to make any decisions right now. It was just a suggestion." 

The room grows silent. Aki's gaze flickers to check on the stove, before traveling back to you. To your eyes, to your mouth. When your gazes meet again, you find it impossible to look away, despite how much your quivering heart desperately begs you to. 

Finally, you look down at your hands, and mumble hesitantly, "You'll be leaving soon." You press your thumbs together, nervously fiddling. "Right?" 

"That depends," Aki answers, "When do you think I'll be healed enough?" 

"Soon. Probably within the next few days, at the earliest. Your wound looks fine. You should keep resting, once you're feeling energized and no longer sore, then…" 

You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. Aki doesn't fail to notice how you're no longer looking at him, your voice becoming uncertain and much quieter. 

Aki takes a deep, long breath, and he speaks calmly, gently. "Whenever you tell me you're ready, I'll leave. There's no pressure to come with me, and I won't force you to make a decision. I don't have any problems with leaving alone. I'll be alright, you won't have to worry about me. Please, don't forget that." 

It should be fine, to let him leave alone. You'll follow your original plan. The next time he's asleep, you'll prepare the potion to alter his memory; you could have it done by tonight, easily. If he follows your directions, he shouldn't have a problem with making his way out of the forest safely. As foolish as he is, Aki is resourceful. He wouldn't let himself get caught out again. This is what should happen, to keep the both of you safe, and apart. 

So why do you feel so hurt? 

For longer than necessary, you're silent. In the corner of your vision, you catch the way Aki peers at you worriedly. 

"Are you alright?" He asks, his words taking you a bit off guard. 

Reflexively, you nod — but oh, how he is making this so much harder. You're fine, you were fine, until you heard his soft voice check up on you. Now, you feel like a dam on the edge of bursting. He noticed, of course he would notice. You're standing close enough for him to see your little tremors, for him to hear when your breath starts to hitch. You had made up your mind about your future long before you met him, but Aki had to go and change it all. 

Perhaps you hadn't realized how much it truly hurt until he'd spoken. Those are words you haven't heard before, you've never felt a sensation so suffocating. Your throat is dry, your heart is encased in thorns — but you're alright. You have to be. You have to tell him you're fine. 

"I'm alright," You answer quickly with a swallow, leaving it at that. 

"You sure? Your hands-" Aki murmurs, his gaze flickering down to them, and then back up. "You were doing that earlier." 

Ah. You were, and you are. Both of your hands have moved to timidly clutch the front of your cape, your thumb running over the grooves on the shiny front button. 

Sighing, you forcibly let your arms fall. You still can't look at him, so instead, you keep your focus on the dirty ends of your shoes. "I promise, I'm fine." 

You're sure you don't sound very convincing. 

The pot on the stove bubbles, the stove top's low, orange flame flickering faintly. Aki stays silent, considering his next words carefully. 

"You still don't trust me," He decides, his voice quiet and assured. It's a statement more than anything; he knows you do not trust him. He knows it's a fact he cannot change. "But if there's anything- something I did, or something you want to tell me, you can. I'll listen." 

As if you could ever tell him. 

It'd be foolish to let him see this different side to you, regardless of how much you already trust him — more than he realizes, clearly. More than logic and everything you've learned should dictate. Unfortunately, you can no longer keep your thoughts quiet. You've got a battle raging within you, and those aching waves of stress are pulling, pushing, and growing closer and closer to drowning you underneath. 

Aki can't stay. You shouldn't even entertain the thought; what the hell are you thinking? Aki is a stranger, he's dangerous. If he truly is royalty, you could be punished for ever thinking you were allowed to look at him, let alone speak to him. 

The kingdom isn't as far as you'd prefer it to be. His wound is healing. You are helping him get back on his feet. You're guiding him closer to leaving, little by little. 

Deep in your foolish, pounding heart, you want to believe Aki would trust you as much as you want to trust him, regardless of your best-kept secret. Yet, if anyone questioned him upon his return, if he was at all seen as suspicious, they could find out about you. His intentions wouldn't matter then. Protecting you or even himself wouldn't be an option. There's only so much he can do to bend the rules around witches. Royalty or otherwise. 

You hate this. You hate that Aki could discover the truth at any moment. He could look at you differently, with less kindness and more revulsion, once he realizes he's supposed to hate you. He is fucking supposed to, to hell with thinking mages are people, those words can't be trusted, he isn't meant to be trusted. With how distracted you've been, he could kill you, if he truly wanted to. But would he? 

The pit of your stomach swirls with a shadowy sense of dread and anxiety. You hate how you've become closer to him, you hate yourself for letting your guard down, even though you swore you wouldn't. Above all else, you hate how these sharp, never-ending feelings are becoming far too much. 

It hurts. There's a hundred thoughts gnawing at your mind, a thousand rapid beats of your heart to keep track of, and a million pins and needles under your skin, running up along your spine with a painful, oppressive intensity. 

You're worried. You're scared, scared of what will happen, scared of him, and everything. Scared of losing him, as awful as it sounds. Your cottage would become so lonely. You would fall into suffocating silence once more. Aki is different from the men you met before, from the people you've learned to fear. He is someone worth keeping. 

Each sensation — the stress, the longing — pushes at either side of you like two stone walls closing in. Closing and crushing and swallowing you; your hands are trembling, and Gods, you're exhausted. When was the last time you slept properly? Was your mind ever working as it should be to begin with? 

And why can you never seem to stop thinking about what it felt like to have your hand in his? 

In the end, it doesn't matter. 

None of it matters, your attempts to hang onto yourself and your wavering composure are rendered useless. He blends out of your focus as the world grows blurry around you. You grip the front of your cape tighter, your shoulders tensing before they tremor. Your breath is short, your throat feels tight, and your thoughts are fatigued like a string pulled taut. Fragile tears are beginning to fall down your cheeks, and you can do nothing to stop them. 

Aki freezes up completely, eyes wide, gaze locked on you. 

"Sorry," You're babbling, shaking your head, willing the tears to stop — although you know they most certainly won't. Your chest aches, your throat hurts. Small droplets fall from your face to hit your fingers and knuckles. You're so stupid, so weak. "I just- I don't want to-" 

Without an ounce of hesitation, Aki shifts closer. He's slow when he reaches out to you, giving you plenty of time to move away if you'd prefer to. You don't. Glancing down at you, his warm palm finds your cheek, his touch slight and delicate, as though he's still expecting you to flinch away. Carefully, his thumb swipes underneath your eye to catch a tear before it falls. His touch caresses you softly, far too softly. And finally, you break. 

He could hurt you, he could destroy you if he knew what you truly were. Instead, the fear all melts away, because he chooses to be gentle. 

Your shaking hands hold onto your cape as tight as you can manage, while your tears turn into hard sobs that shake your entire figure, and make his heart want to splinter and shatter. Aki mumbles something low under his breath, words you barely catch despite how close you both are: an earnest mixture of shh, and it's okay. 

In this moment, you have never been weaker. Not since the day you first left the kingdom behind you, and began to cry, when you believed you were meant to be alone. It's been years of isolation, since then. Is it so wrong for you to know you have needed this? 

For once, leaning into his touch feels right; it doesn't burn, it isn't nerve-wracking. It's everything you've ever needed — it is so much more as you press your hand to the back of his, keeping him in place so he won't pull away. You focus on the warmth of his touch, tenderness surging all around you, your heart pounding to a fierce, unsteady rhythm. 

It could be wrong, it could be reckless, to believe this is the safest you've ever felt. To know that if you were to pull him close like you've been wanting, you might not be able to let go. You want to embrace him, to have someone hold you, after ages and ages of feeling nothing against your skin and at your back but the whispering wind. 

Aki's arms around you would be far too overwhelming — to have him hold you tight while you breathe in the scent of firewood on his clothes, and listen to each beat of his heart, your head pressed to his chest. No, you wouldn't let go, not until you've memorized the sound. The thought alone could bring you to tears, if you weren't already breaking down in front of him, sniffling and holding onto your cape with a grip tight enough to make your fingers ache. 

"I scared you earlier, didn't I?" Aki says, his voice low, as calming as it always is. His breathing is slow, and yours tries to calm down to match. "I'm sorry." 

Maybe he did, but you've already forgiven him. Aki can't know the true reason why you're crying, or any of the multitude of built-up reasons. They'd be impossible to say, far too difficult to talk about. You can't tell him you might miss him if he leaves you behind, even though it's what you planned to let happen in the first place. Even though someone like you has no right to want to follow someone like him. To the kingdom, no less. You'd be shunned. Imprisoned. Or much, much worse. 

Aki is kind and thoughtful, his presence alone makes you want more — your tides pulled in his direction, an ocean of uncertainty reaching up to a bright, brilliant, unreachable moon. His touch is warm light, shining through thick darkness. Your darkness, illuminated wholeheartedly. 

"You're safe," He murmurs. His voice barely registers. "I wouldn't let anything hurt you." 

He couldn't, he has no idea you're a terrible, filthy liar. Aki is a good man. He reminds you of those knights in your stories — unwaveringly good, no matter the danger they're presented with. And you? You are nothing more than a witch. 

Thankfully, Aki doesn't need to know. 

He doesn't have questions, he simply continues to brush his thumb over your cheek, tenderly and rhythmically. His touch is slight, overly gentle in an attempt to keep you comfortable, but it's more than enough to gradually help you relax. You can't recall the last time you cried like this. Nor the last time you let anyone touch you, you never planned to allow this. You can't become overtaken by emotion, holding your focus is much more important. Perhaps you needed a way to finally let go of your budding stress. 

Aki seems to think so. He holds your face in his palm as you cry, never pulling away, grounding you with his presence. Ever-so patient, he stays, while you fully succumb to everything washing over you. Until the waves slowly subside, allowing you to breathe again. Your sobs begin to calm, your tears start to dry up. Your whole body tremors as you breathe a long, shaky sigh. 

Still, he keeps his pretty palm on your cheek. It belongs there, you think. 

"How are you feeling?" Aki says softly, after a few beats of silence. "Mad? Upset?" 

At first, you don't answer. You try, although you know it's futile; your mouth opens, but your voice is weak, your throat is sore. No words come out. You're feeling a thousand things, even if you could voice them, you aren't sure where you'd start. You swallow, and to your disappointment, Aki takes his palm away from your cheek, abruptly reaching for something. 

In a rush, he hurries to turn off the stove, swearing quietly under his breath. You hadn't realized how much time had passed — how long have you been crying? Long enough to make your nose stuffed and your throat sore, and enough to let the stew boil over, evidently. 

Aki leaves it, for now. He reaches over you to grab your backpack, briefly putting your bodies unbelievably close. He roots around inside until he finds your flask, still half-full with fresh water, and he sets it on the counter, allowing you to move at your own pace. You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand first, before you grab it, unscrewing the cap, taking a few sips. 

You want to tell him. You want to feel his soft touch again, you want his words of reassurance, and his trust, and his kindness. How could you fear him, when Aki is tenderness incarnate? As soft as the sky, as earnest as an echo. And as necessary as it is, you're already sick of lying; you don't want to hear his voice, look him in the eyes, and know you are lying to him. 

Though, you can't say a thing. Your voice is weak, your body and mind are exhausted. And so, this time, you resist. 

Aki breaks the silence first. "You're allowed to be mad at me. I wouldn't blame you if you were." 

"I'm not mad," You answer, screwing the cap back on the flask, setting it down on the counter right where it was. You aren't meeting his eyes, but your voice sounds clearer, less strained. "I'm okay. Just tired." 

Your shoulders shrug weakly. Aki's next breath seems to shake, his arms crossing around his chest frustratedly, his gaze traveling down. 

"I shouldn't-" His jaw clenches, before he lets go of an exasperated sigh. "A devil wouldn't have snuck up on us like that. We would've known- they aren't small, and they make much more noise when they're approaching. I shouldn't have worried you. If you think I should… head for the kingdom, I will. I could leave tonight." 

Your throat feels dry again. "It's fine." 

"No," Aki counters, his voice wavering; it never wavers, "This is my fault. To see you hurting so much, when I know that I- maybe I just-" 

"Aki." 

You glance up at him, and your abrupt utterance of his name forces him to meet your gaze. Your eyes are still red, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, your cheeks damp from tears. Your expression is earnest, hiding a thousand emotions he couldn't begin to make sense of. But he wants to try. 

"Don't go," You murmur, softer this time. Close to breaking once more. "I've already forgiven you. Thank you. For being here." 

For showing you a kindness you aren't used to, for comforting you without asking questions. For finally making you realize that you aren't meant to be alone. You want to say his name a thousand times more. 

Honestly, you aren't sure what Aki takes away from your words. He seems to hesitate, but after a moment of thought, he reaches for the bowls he'd grabbed for the two of you earlier. One for you, and one for him. 

"You should get some sleep after we eat," He suggests, his tone nice and gentle, laced with concern. He places your bowl in front of you, on your side of the counter. 

"Mhmm…" You nod in agreement, and search through a drawer on your left to find a wooden ladle. "My head hurts." 

Completely serious, Aki replies, "Do you want me to stop talking?" 

Genuine and soft, you break into a laugh — a sound he is more than glad to hear — and you smile to yourself, while you pour some stew into your bowl. It warms your palms, steam brushing against your face. When you pass the ladle to him, he's instantly caught on the faint sparkle in your gaze. Hook, line, and sinker. 

"Absolutely not." You hum playfully, an eyebrow crooked. "It would be far too quiet. Besides, I like your voice." 

Aki fills his own bowl, and with the warm, pleased look that encompasses his features, you swear he almost seems flustered. "I hope you aren't implying I talk too much." 

"Nope. If anything, it's not enough." 

You reach into a drawer to grab silverware, and Aki heads over to the dinner table. He's already sat down across from your usual seat, and once you're able to follow, you notice your chair has been pulled out for you. 

Your conversations lull as the two of you eat together, once again enjoying the simple comfort of company. The warm stew soothes your throat. It has your body and your limbs relaxing, calming. You exchange a few words. Aki compliments your cooking, and you politely thank him for his help. You comment how you rarely see baby elk, they're normally so skittish. It was cute. It would be nice to see again, under different circumstances. 

Everything returns to normality. The same way it always was, when words shared between him and yourself become as natural as breathing. Once again, it feels right. 

The next time you speak, it's after you've stood and both rinsed your bowls, just before you're about to head into your bedroom. 

Aki clears his throat. He sits on the edge of his cot, his hands placed uniformly in his lap, the fireplace's low flame flickering over the sharp angles of his face. 

"Do you really want me to stay?" He asks, as he already has. Perhaps he's expecting the answer to change. 

You consider, drumming your fingertips over your bedroom's door handle. Then, at last, you answer. "Is it so wrong if I do?" 

"It isn't. I was thinking, actually, I… I don't think it's a good idea for me to leave," He says, glancing at you. "My wound is- it could reopen. It'd be better not to take any risks, to rest for another week or so. Or maybe two weeks. Or- I don't know. We'll see." His next words are entirely unsure, a shot in the dark, a question and a plea wrapped into one: "What do you think?" 

As one would expect, he'd leave it all up to you. 

Your hand grips the door knob tighter. You take a slow, gradual breath, and hope he doesn't notice your newfound reassurance. 

He isn't leaving. Not yet. Thank the Gods. 

"Of course," You murmur, without turning to look at him. He'd see the small smile on your face if you did. "You can stay." 

📌📌📌🥺♥️😭🤲🏽

cherry waves / hayakawa aki

Aki is undeniably, wholeheartedly in love with you, and there's nowhere he tells you he loves you more than right here, in his bed, when you're under him.

cherry waves - deftones

all my love to @kentoangel for giving me the inspiration to make this fic!!!! ilysmmmmm!!!!!!!!!! 💗

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 6.1k

tags: 18+, smut, fluff, fingering, cunnilingus, tender sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, smoking, established relationship, lots and lots of i love you's, soft dom aki

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

Aki is undeniably, wholeheartedly in love with you. 

He tells you every single day. Before he goes to work, he leaves a note on the fridge: There's cash on the coffee table if you want to go out and treat yourself. Have a good day baby. I love you. :) His handwriting is neat, sleek, and formal, like him personified with pen, but when he gets to the I love you, the letters seem to become a bit messier. He scribbles them nervously, as if he feels a little embarrassed about writing it, about seeing the words on the paper, tangible and real. Regardless, you pluck the note off the fridge and keep it in your drawer, alongside the hundreds of others he's written for you. 

With his voice, he asserts it even more. When he manages to get a break at work, he steps aside to call you for as long as he can, even if it's only for a few minutes. He tells you he loves you before he hangs up the phone, says how much he misses you while admiring the polaroid of you in his wallet. I think about you every second that I'm here. I can't wait to come home to you. 

He'll profess his love in the late hours of the night, limbs tangled with yours under the sheets, while he holds you close to his chest. He litters your forehead with the lightest, most delicate of kisses, as though you're made of porcelain beneath his lips. The words are uttered drowsily, like they're heavy in his throat, and he whispers them over and over again, as if his fondness is spilling over, uncontained. You're already fast asleep in his arms by now, so his I love you's fade into the darkness, but perhaps you'll end up hearing them in your dreams. 

It slips off of his tongue again when he shares lunch with you. He takes an orange from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, peels it, pulls the pieces clean apart. There's an odd number of slices. He gives you the extra one. The citrus tastes sweet on his tongue, just as sweet as what falls from his lips. God, I love you so much, you know that? It catches you a bit off guard when he says it out of no-where, but before you can ask him where his sudden remark came from, he's shutting you up with a kiss that tastes sugar-coated. 

He's just lucky to have you. Lucky and oh-so grateful to share both his life and his love. This quiet scene, shared between only the two of you: it's simple, but he's never felt more alive. Aki is finally able to live how he's always wanted, enjoying the most mundane of moments with the one he genuinely loves, who loves him just as much. 

If he is the moon — cold, monochrome, and stormy — then you're definitely the sun, shining like rays of daybreak light and eternally warm like a summer's heatwave. In a world of devils, of heartache and the bitter taste of blood, you would be his idea of an angel. 

He's still not sure if he even deserves this, nor does he understand how someone like him got so damn fortunate. And it's cheesy, but he wouldn't trade this life for any other, or for anything in the universe. He just wishes he got the chance to meet you, to cherish you and this life, so, so much sooner. 

All he can do now is make the most of it, tell you he's in love with you in as many sentences as he can possibly fit it into, kiss you until his lips are bruising, promise you, I'll stay with you, for as long as this world will allow. Cross my heart and hope to die, my love. 

There's nowhere else he belongs but here. His arms belong wrapped around you, his lips belong on yours, he longs to be as intertwined with you as possible. There's nothing he wants to say more than your name and infinite chants of I love you, I love you, I love you. 

And there's nowhere Aki tells you he loves you more than right here, in his bed, when you're under him. The phrase is whispered in your ear, warm and true, the slightest bit shaky. "You're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I'm so in love with you." He says the words softly, but in your chest, they feel like the intense blaze and explosion of a sky filled with fireworks. 

A vinyl spins and spins in the humble record player, and the speakers play a song. The low music resounds in harmony with the soft pitter-patter of rain. Droplets blanket the tin roof above and then tap gently against the window. Silk curtains are pulled slightly ajar, and blurry, fluorescent lights from the city shine through fogged up glass, illuminating the dim room. 

His clothes and yours lie in a heap on the floor. He slipped off his oxfords at the door, shed his suit jacket over the couch. You loosened his tie and tossed it aside, popped each button on his dress shirt, unfastened his belt and his zipper to pull down his slacks. You reached into his hair and tugged on his hairtie until it came free from the topknot and the dark strands fell around his face. 

He pulled your pants down and off of your legs, then hooked his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. He kissed you through the fabric, grinning when your legs shivered, before taking them off, leaving you in only the shirt you were wearing.  

The album playing is one Aki picked out. The music itself is a bit grungy, maybe even a little out-of-style, but it's one of your favorite bands, and since it's your favorite, it became his too. He plays the cassette you gave him in the car when he drives, listens to the record on loop when you're gone because it always reminds him of you. 

Strands of his hair tickle your face when he places a tender kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, your jaw, and finally your lips, where he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger to drag you in closer. He doesn't want to pull away, and so he lingers for far longer than necessary, kissing you softly, effortlessly. 

Your arms wrap around him, and you hold the back of his head with one hand, trail your fingers down his back with the other, and trace the scars that are littered between his shoulder blades. His hands find your thighs and he grips them carefully, slowly spreading them apart. 

He pulls away to pepper your neck with kisses and playful nibbles of his teeth, his lips unable to stay off of you. His fingers trail up, under your shirt, and on your chest, below your ribcage, his fingertips trace shapes onto your skin. It tingles when he draws circles, hearts, spells out the letters of his name with a feather-light touch, wishing he could engrave them in. If he could, he'd cover every last inch of you with his own being, until there's unmistakable proof that he was there, that he's in love with you. For now, the hickeys he's leaving on your nape will have to do. 

"So gorgeous," He mutters against your skin, words muffled, breath hot. "God, I just adore you." His voice is deep, quiet, as smooth as the velvet sheets and as familiar as the guitar riff you've long since memorized in this song.

When Aki leans back, there's a faint grin on his face, and the kindest look in his eyes. Just looking into them makes you feel like you're drowning in warmth. It's hard to recall when you first met him, it feels like forever ago. His gaze was so cold and frigid then, but now, it's taken on a much softer hue. 

Aki dotes on the fact that you're wearing nothing but his own shirt. It's one of his old t-shirts that you dug out from his dresser, and it's a baggy fit, but it looks beautiful on you, he thinks. His palms glide under it, caressing your bare skin. From this view, you look stunning. The way you're laid back on his pillow, arms sprawled out with hands upturned, you look absolutely darling, like a dose of fathomable heaven. 

Your senses are filled with the smell of his sheets, his clothing, and his laundry detergent. His cigarettes, his room, just the smell of him, it makes your head spin, and you melt into the comfort and familiarity of it all. You reach up to tuck his messy hair behind his ears, fiddling with the piercings on his lobes as his hands travel down. The glint in his earrings capture the hazy glow of the city lights. 

His hands reach your hips and he holds them tight, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles on your skin. He lifts them, aligns you, takes a deep breath. His heart pounds with anticipation, but he looks to you, asks if you're ready first, and only when you nod does he continue. With a hard swallow that makes his Adam's apple bob in his throat, then a fragile gasp and whine, he steadily presses inside you. 

You're so wet from the hours Aki spent teasing you before this, and so messy from the countless times you've came already for him. The inside of your thighs are shiny and glistening, covered with the love bites and pretty bruises he left there. 

It's on nights like these where Aki not only tells you how much he loves you, but shows you. He pleasures you all night long, until you've cum over and over again for him. Until morning light starts to seep through the blinds, and you're too tired to continue, falling asleep in his arms after the waves of pleasure subside. 

Earlier, he made you cum on his fingers, one hand holding his cigarette, the other nestled between your legs. He takes a drag in from the cig, tilting his head to exhale the smoke away from you, all while his middle finger runs up and down your pussy. He gets it wet with your slick before slowly pressing it inside, all the way to the knuckle. He drags it in and out, in and out, and when you buck your hips to meet his hand, he adds another. 

His ring finger stretches you out deliciously, and once it's all the way in, you can feel the cool metal of his promise ring pressed up against your entrance. 

It rests on the base of his finger: a modest, silver band. You wear a similar one, but yours is adorned with a bright, glittering diamond. He saved all his paychecks for months, surprising you with the matching set on your anniversary. Since then, he never takes it off, his promise to be yours anchored to him wherever he goes. 

He'll replace them someday; he's going to ask you to marry him in the future, and he's already convinced himself of it. He hopes you'll take his last name. There's no-one in the world he trusts more with the Hayakawa surname than you, and no-one else he'd rather pass it on to. Giving you that piece of himself would be a blessing. 

Aki's hands are so large and so pretty, big enough to eclipse your own when he holds them, or to cup your entire face with his palm like it's what he was meant to do. And his fingers are perfect; they're so long and slender, and they feel so good as he fucks you with them. You gasp when he curls them upwards, and his lips can't help but form a smile around his cigarette. 

You're always so receptive to his touch. You still giggle every time he kisses the back of your hand or the tip of your nose. Your heart still pounds when he embraces you, when his eyes lock with yours for too long. You fall apart for him every time, just as easily as the first. 

He finds it endearing, and he can't help but want to please you more and more, give you all of his affection. He stamps his cigarette out into the ashtray resting on the nightstand, abandoning it to put his full attention on you, whispering the most divine words into your ear. 

Listen to how wet you are. It feels good, right? Tell me it feels good.

He pumps his fingers in and out to a careful, tender rhythm. He makes sure to press them in enough so that each time, you feel the cold edges of his ring. 

Oh, baby, are you close? Don't hold back, I want you to cum for me. 

Aki can feel you tightening around his fingers. He notices your breathing picking up and your body starting to tense. He drags his fingers out and brings them to your clit, where he rubs tight circles, just how you like, in the way that always brings you to the edge for him time and time again. 

That's it. You're so beautiful when you cum, sweetheart. You make me want you so bad. 

Your thighs are sore, and your whole body is trembling, but Aki holds you close while you come down. You can go one more time for me, can't you, baby? Of course, when he asks you that, the answer is always going to be yes. 

He's dying to taste you, and so he makes you cum again, on his tongue this time. He plants open-mouthed kisses on your stomach, your hips, your thighs, onto every bone, mole, and soft spot his lips can find. Raise your hips a little for me, He instructs, sliding his arms under your thighs when you do so, There you go. Can you spread your legs a bit more for me too? 

He laps up the mess, presses his tongue in, fucks you with it. The rich flavor of his cigarettes still lingers in the back of his throat, and your sweet taste combined with it makes him feel delirious. 

He buries his face between your legs, his nose nudging at your clit, and he groans into your cunt when you run your fingers through his hair and pull him in. He kisses your clit with soft lips, licks it with the flat length of his tongue, takes it into his mouth and sucks on it hard. You're so pretty, he mumbles, but you hardly hear it. Your legs wrap around his head, and he doesn't stop until you're cumming for him again. 

Making you cum, listening to your pretty moans, watching you fall apart to his touch, it gets him so hard. His dick aches, throbs ceaselessly in his briefs, leaks out where it rests thick and heavy against his thigh. His mind goes foggy with lust, and he can feel the pure and utter want for you burning in his veins, settling in the cavity of his chest.

There's something about you that always makes him want more, makes him crave you, and causes him to desire everything you're willing to let him have. It's insatiable. He wants to be inside you so bad he can hardly stand it, but honestly, he could get off on just this alone. 

He could do this all night, surely. He always puts your pleasure above his own, and he would worship your body forever, make each curve and dip into his form of a prayer, if you'd only let him. He'll make you cum as many times as you can take, and as many times as you want. Whatever you want him to do, he'll do it for you. However much you want him to give, he'll give you even more. At your request, he'd give you every last part of himself. 

But on nights like this, even when your eyelids are heavy and threatening to shut, you need more of him. You want to be closer, so even when you're spent, you always end up begging him please, Please, Aki. I want you to fuck me. He wants it just as badly, if not more, and when you ask him like that, how can he resist? He'll always give you exactly what you ask for. 

His cock is thick and so fucking pretty, a perfect stretch when he fills you up. Aki takes his time, eases into you slowly, and you savor every single inch of him. The sight of his dick pressing inside you is damn near intoxicating, and he wouldn't be able to tear his gaze away if he tried. His pupils are blown, eyes glazed over, and his lips are slightly parted, quivering. 

When he's finally all the way in, you can feel his dick in your stomach, and he groans, pulling you in even closer by your waist. He hasn't even moved yet, and his head is already spinning. He waited so long for this, ended up teasing himself just as much as he teased you, and you're so tight around his cock, the feeling might consume him. He doesn't think he'll be able to last long, but he'll try. 

"Oh, fu-uck, baby-" Aki's voice cracks into a moan as he starts to fuck you, echoing a wet sound when he rolls his hips out, then presses back in deeply. He mumbles, "You feel so amazing, I love you. God, I love you." 

Before you can tell him you love him too, his lips come crashing onto yours. He kisses you slowly, at first, but he can't help himself from wanting to indulge in you further. Your lips feel like all he could ever need as they mesh with his. Then, he's kissing you deeply, breathlessly, like he can't get enough. He sucks on your tongue, sighing when he thrusts into you. He buries his cock in deeper just to feel you moan more into his mouth. Your hands thread through his hair, holding it back, keeping it out of his face. 

Honestly, the feeling itself isn't what turns you on the most. It's knowing that he is the one fucking you, Aki's dick is inside you. Aki, whose cold exterior you broke past, whose heartache you managed to cure. Aki, who deserves so much more than what the world has given him, who is nothing like what people say about him. 

Aki, who keeps his arm linked with yours while he makes dinner, trying out new recipes to find which one you like the best. Who wipes the tears from under your eyes with his thumbs, who gives you his jacket when it's cold outside, who still blushes when your knee bumps his in public, who makes you feel completely and utterly safe with him. Aki, who kisses you just like this, like the world is going to end. 

The way Aki loves is intense, but tender. It's exhilarating, but sincere. It never fails to take your breath away, yet still feels like a home you can return to. The kind of love that grounds you, but not without allowing you to fall for him more and more. The kind of love that's purposeful in everything, because in every possible instance, you're the one he wants, and the one he needs. You, and only you. 

When he draws away from you, his lips are ghosting on yours, and he whispers it again, "I love you," voice just barely audible over the music and the downpour. He pulls back further, reaches a hand into his messy hair to brush it out of his face, then cups your cheek. You lean into his warmth, his touch. You can feel the outline of his ring, and he has a stupid grin on his face when he mumbles, "Look at you. So beautiful, and you're all mine. How did I get so lucky?" It's true, but really, he's all yours — so hopelessly addicted to you. 

Aki makes love to you softly, almost lazily. It's sweet and passionate, and gives you a chance to enjoy the atmosphere and every little detail of it all. Aki's cheeks are flushed, his eyelashes flutter, and his chest heaves with every ragged breath he takes in. His moans are loud and needy, each roll of his hips deliberate, never too hard, because he knows how to make you cum without the need to be rough. 

Every time he shoves his cock in, it sends blood rushing to his head, and with each drag out, he whines from the pressure. He's sweating, and he grabs your shirt to hastily tug it up. Not enough to take it off, just enough to expose your chest to him. 

The storm is picking up now, and the rain has grown to a loud, universal drum as it pours from the sky. The record player is still going, vinyl spinning idly as it plays the next song on the album. Aki fucks you through it, nearly to the rhythm, but he isn't paying attention to the music. He's just focused on you. The ambience is drowned out by the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and Aki's voice in your ear. 

"So good," Aki slurs, and one of his hands grips your waist, while the other finds yours to hold it tightly, your fingers interlaced with his. "You take my cock so well." 

"Aki… I..." You stammer out, unable to say much more than that. 

"Yeah?" Aki stops completely, giving you a second to breathe. He leans in a little closer, studies your face, and quietly asks, "What is it, baby? What do you want?" 

"Want you deeper, I want you to fuck me more, please-"

"Shit," Aki sighs, clearly losing his composure for a second. He already had an idea of what you were going to ask for, but he still absolutely loves when you beg for him. He exhales a shaky breath, "Okay, baby, okay." 

Aki's pace quickens a little, and he presses his body closer to yours, desperate to get himself even deeper inside. He's gasping, finding it difficult to breathe as he fucks into you harder, with less of his deliberate movements, and more of his own desperation. He's losing control, little by little, with each thrust and each noise he pulls out of you. You wrap your arms around him, and it's like he's falling into you. 

All it took was that little bit of extra speed, shoving his cock in deeper, harder, and your heavenly moans and cries into his ear for him to be just barely hanging onto the edge. You feel good, way too good. Too perfect, and he's too vulnerable, linked inseparably with you. 

"Oh my God, I c-can't, you feel so- fuck, fucking amazing," He stammers, barely able to get the words out, moaning after every unsteady thrust into you as he begins to lose his rhythm. His high-pitched whines are a perfect contrast to the deep vibrato of his voice. "I can't, baby, I'm so close, I'm gonna cum-" 

He's trying so much to hold out, but he's so needy, and it's made evident by his moans and the love-drunk expression on his face when he leans back to look at you. His eyebrows are knitted, his lips are parted, and he's flushed red, all the way to the tips of his ears. Despite how badly he wants it, he thinks he might be able to keep going for a little while longer, but when you start begging for him to let go, to cum for you, he's done for. 

He gives you a couple more desperate thrusts before he pulls out, panting hard, and his dick throbs in his hand as he jerks it. He whines your name as his cum spills out all over your pussy, your stomach, and your thighs. All over his own trembling fingers and down his knuckles, making his hand sticky and messy. 

Aki takes a moment to catch his breath. Strands of hair stick to his forehead from his sweat and he does his best to brush them away. He glides two fingers through the mess on your stomach, then collects what drips down your thighs, before bringing them to your mouth. You open before he has to tell you to, and he smears his cum all over your tongue. You suck on his slender fingers and twirl your tongue around his whole hand, licking up every last drop. 

"That's it," Aki praises, exhaling a shaky sigh, "Such a good girl for me. You made me feel so fucking good, baby." 

You hum around his fingers in response. 

He's close to collapsing, his whole body covered in a blanket of exhaustion, but his focus is on you. He's still so damn hard, already dribbling pre-cum out all over your soft stomach. And he's still so eager to please you, still so desperate to have you. Watching you take his fingers just reignited that feeling. 

Aki takes his fingers out, and they're wet with your own saliva when he grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks. He swallows, and the way his normally resolute voice wavers implies that he's the slightest bit nervous when he admits, "I still need you." 

"I need you too. Please."

The tip of his dick is sensitive, to the point where just pressing it to your entrance makes him whine and briefly falter. He strokes up the length, trying to get himself used to the stimulation, swiping his palm over the tip to smear the shaft with his pre-cum. He doesn't want to make you wait for too long, so he brings it back to your pussy, dragging it over, getting it messy with your slick and his cum before he slowly eases back in. 

"Oh, God," Aki's head falls, and you wrap your legs around his back, tangling your fingers in his hair. You run them through close to the scalp, gently holding the back of his head, and he stammers, "S-So… It's so…"

It's so sloppy, so wet. So overwhelming, and all too much. His cock slides in and out with ease, and he fucks into you as much as he can possibly handle without falling apart at the seams. Your thighs are soaked, his dick is unbelievably messy, and the wet sound echoed each time he shoves himself in is so damn loud. 

"Babydoll, I'm-" Aki mumbles, but he's unable to finish his sentence, breaking into a string of pathetic whimpers. He feverishly gives your neck open-mouthed kisses as a way to shut himself up. 

The overstimulation is already starting to get to him. His legs are weak and shaky, threatening to buckle under the weight of each thrust into you. His dick is so goddamn sensitive that he can hardly handle this, and yet, he can't stop. The only thing running through his brain, through every nerve in his body is that he needs you, he needs this. He grabs your face with his hand and you hook your arms around his neck to pull him in, your lips clumsily connecting with his. 

Aki moans into your mouth as he kisses you, and mutters an I love you that slurs off of his tongue when yours swirls around his. The taste of himself on your mouth has him reeling, and he can't stop himself from rutting his hips into you hard. When he pulls away, there's drool dripping down his chin, and he wipes it hastily with the back of his hand. 

With his head in such a blur, he ends up telling you every little thought that enters into his mind. "Feels so g-good… So warm… Really w-wet, ah-" 

God, you just love him when he's like this. So fucked out and drunk on you he can hardly speak, his head so cloudy all he can think about is how you're making him feel. It's a side of him only you get to see; he's cold and serious with everyone else, but he's got a soft spot for you. The truth is, even when it seems like he's the one in control, you're the one who's held all the power over him from the start. You always have. 

You can leave hickeys on his neck that all his co-workers will see, scratch up his back with your fingernails until they leave red streaks across his skin, touch him anywhere and everywhere you please because he's yours to touch. Play with his pretty cock all you want, until he's pleading with you to let him cum, to give him more because he needs it. You can stuff his own tie in his mouth to keep him quiet, wrap your hands around his throat while you ride him. And he'll love every second of it, pure devotion reflected in the gaze he can't seem to keep off of you.  

He'll let you do anything you want to him, and he'll give you anything you ask for. Especially when he's this overwhelmed, drowning in his own pleasure. And if there's anything you want right now, it's to watch him lose his mind for you. 

So when you tell him to fuck you deeper, harder, pleading, Don't you dare stop, not even for a second, he'll do just that. When you tell him to kiss you, bite you, he does, placing hurried pecks over every inch of your face, leaving impressions of his teeth on your neck and shoulders. And when you tell him to keep talking to you, praise you, I want to hear your voice, his words are incoherent and breathless, but he stammers them all the same, and without a second thought. 

"Love you… I… A-Ah, it's-" Aki manages, trying to form something complete, but failing every time. His breaths are quickened and his chest is heaving when he begs, "Please," although he's not sure what he's even begging for. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and beads of sweat drip down his forehead. It's too much, but he needs you so badly he can't quit. He's desperate to feel you cum on his cock. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him, secured at the ankles. You glide your hands up his chest, then to where his collarbones jut out. Over his shoulders, up to his jawline, then down again to squeeze his arms. He's pretty, so pretty, the prettiest boy you've ever seen. 

He can feel you tightening around him, and can tell your moans are picking up as he fucks you. His thrusts are shallow; he needs the friction, but also longs to stay deep inside you. He's dizzy, seeing stars, and even though he's so overwhelmed that he's not sure if he can handle cumming again, a familiar knot starts forming in his gut. He chokes out, "C-Close." 

"Me too," You reply, "Want you to cum for me, fill me up, please, Aki-" 

There's no way, absolutely no way he can resist that. Between you begging for him and the way you say his name, he's done for. He'll always give you just what you want. 

The tension snaps, and Aki grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him, fucking you through his orgasm, filling you with his cum. He cums so hard, so loud, so desperately, his muscles tightening, his dick throbbing in your stomach, all while he whines your name and a mix of disjointed, endless I love you's. 

His thrusts become messy, unrelenting, and he doesn't stop, not when it sounds like he can hardly breathe, or when his whole body is trembling. Before he collapses onto you, he wedges a hand between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. The feeling is one of utter euphoria, and it's enough to bring you to the edge. You slur his name over and over again as you finish, saying it in ways that make his heart flutter and swell in his chest. 

He slows when you're finally spent, his voice in your ear hoarse, but gentle, words spoken under his breath. "That's it, cum on me, baby. Just like that... Oh my God...."

The record has long since stopped by now, and the rain still falls, but nowhere near as hard as before. It creates an air of silence, and you're suddenly aware of your own heart in your ears, and Aki's heavy breaths, his swallows and meager gasps for air. His weight pins you to the mattress, and he pulls out incredibly slow, wrapping his arms around you to hold you even closer to himself. He smells of sex and sweat, of lingering smoke and a cozy familiarity. 

"You okay?" He asks, finally managing to catch his breath, whispering into the shell of your ear. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay." 

"I love you so much. More than I could ever find a way to express," Aki sighs, taking your hand into his own, "You're the best thing that ever happened to me." 

You give a little half-hearted chuckle, and then you reply, "I love you too. So much." 

Aki pushes himself up a little to meet your gaze. His cheeks are covered in a rosy blush, and when your free hand comes to cup his cheek, he holds it there, his fingers tenderly rubbing circles into your knuckles, brushing over the curve of your ring. 

He smiles, softly, warm enough to melt fresh snow, and the bridge of his nose crinkles ever-so slightly. After a moment of hesitation, he asks, "You tired, baby?" 

You nod, eyelids heavy, your whole body weak and weary. Aki leans in, and you can feel his smile against your lips when he kisses you. He holds it, keeping his lips on yours for far longer than he needs to, like he always does. When he pulls back, he whispers, "Let's get you ready for bed." 

Aki gives you as much time as you need to rest, and when you're ready, he tugs your shirt over your head and carries you to the bathroom. He showers with you, lets you lean on him while he washes your hair, and kisses every inch of your skin while you both relax under the hot water. He dries you off, helps you get dressed, kisses the tip of your nose, asks if you're hungry. You say that you're not, but he offers to make you something anyways, and for his cooking, you can't refuse. 

When the two of you finally sink back into bed, Aki holds you close. His shape fits to yours perfectly, like two halves of the same whole. You can feel the metronome of his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. His hand grabs yours, absentmindedly, like the way magnets are pulled together, destined to find one another. 

"I have the day off tomorrow, what would you like to do, baby?" He asks as he plays with your hair, twirling strands around his fingers. 

"Mmm…" You feign thinking, but really, you're just trying to fight off your ever-growing sleepiness. "Can we go shopping?" 

"We can go wherever you'd like. You wanna go out to eat, too? We haven't in a while." 

It's because your cooking is so good, You think, but you answer with a nod so light you're hardly sure if he even noticed. He places a kiss on the crown of your head and replies, "Alright, we'll go somewhere nice." 

In your head, you imagine how the day with him tomorrow will go. Aki will slip out of bed to make breakfast as silently as possible, careful to avoid stepping on the spots that make the floor creak. You'll wake up to the smell of coffee brewing, to breakfast in bed. Aki will take you to the stores he knows you love, the ones that have the clothes you always say you feel the best in. He'll take you out to the restaurant you never ask for, because you know it's too expensive, but he secretly knows it's your favorite. And of course, he'll pay for everything. 

You begin to fall asleep as the scenes play out in your mind, melting into the lull of his soft breathing and the warmth of his arms. 

Aki's voice is drowsy when he asks, "You still awake?" 

There's no response, so he pulls you closer, holds you safely, presses your head to his heart, and tells you one last, I love you. 

And when he drifts off as well, he'll love you still, wholeheartedly. Even in his dreams, then until he breathes his last, and when he does, he's sure he'll continue to love you in the lifetime after this one. 

I'll love you as much as my heart can take. Cross my heart and hope to die. 

😭🤲🏽❤️

looking down the barrel of a gun // aki

cws- aki/reader, semi-public sex, blow jobs, blood kink, finger/hand kink, size difference

word count- 3.6k

Aki feels half-asleep, limbs heavy, eyelids drooping, but he would sooner die than tap out of his current predicament. After a day that seemed to pass within the blink of an eye, it feels like heaven to be here. He’s so dazed that his senses are dulled, as though he is submerged under water.

You’re on him, sitting lightly on his lap and bruising his neck with little bites and kisses. He doesn’t know your name, he never asked, and you never told him. It’s better this way, a brief encounter ignited by pent-up, neglected feelings, full of passion found at that moment. Aki leans back against the cold brick wall of the alley. You pushed him there, mumbling something about not wanting to waste time heading up to his apartment.

Aki has his broad hands on your hips, still clothed to his irritation. It has been a hard day. From dealing with Denji to having a close brush with death, Aki is not feeling the slightest bit patient.

He takes his hands and runs them up your thighs. You’re wearing loose shorts, perfect for him to slide his relaxed palms up your feverish skin. He stops his fingers when he feels the lacy border of your panties. He may not be feeling patient, but the desire to watch your reaction drowns it out.

“You like that? Huh?” Aki dips his head into the crook of your neck, not waiting for an answer. Of course, you like it, he barely has to touch you for you to start trying to grind down on him. You’d probably be fine with anything he’d give you, his leg, his shoe, his cock.

You don’t manage an answer, only a breathless sigh as Aki mouths at the pulse in your throat. You sound needy and not quite there, like he could hold you too hard and you wouldn’t say a thing. That realization is dangerous, he’s tempted to go further, push you harder, see exactly how much you would take.

He traces your pulse with his lips, wondering absently how your skin is able to feel so supple. The skin there is thinner and smells faintly of nervous sweat. He flicks his tongue out to taste you; salty, and under that, he can feel the blood rushing down as he presses harder with his lips. He can practically smell it, the dark, overwhelming metallic scent. In a moment lost to his clouded mind, Aki clamps his teeth on your heated skin, right above your carotid artery. He’s careful and delicate as he draws blood, but you still let out a weak gasp. Your rich blood fills his mouth and drains over his tongue, further clouding his judgment.

“C’mon,” you breathe above him. “Touch me.”

Aki squeezes your hips, hard, while he reluctantly parts from your wound. It's small, not quite what he expected to see, but it still puts a knot in his throat as he examines the damage he left. Your skin is already bruising around the indentions his teeth made, purple tinted skin mingling with the leftover droplets of blood. He feels like an artist staring proudly at his masterpiece painting, a mottled mess burned on your skin.

“I am touching,” he retorts as he finally leans back. He doesn’t normally consider being immature, but encounters like this bring it out of him. It feels good to let loose a little, let his hair down, figuratively and literally.

You glare down at him and Aki finds it hard to take you very seriously with such a marked-up neck. He has to stifle a sly smile and a string of accusations; You aren’t embarrassed to be throwing yourself at me like this? You don’t feel an ounce of shame, do you? I bet you’re already wondering how to arrange to see me again, I haven’t even properly touched you.

Before you can think to utter another protest, Aki indulges you, sliding his thin fingers under your panties and resting his thumb right under the entrance of your cunt. His other hand snakes back, moving over your shorts to rest right on your tailbone, just above where you’d prefer him to touch. As his palm stills on your thigh, he can feel your skin prickle with anticipation.

“What do you want?” Aki asks, returning his mouth to your neck. This time, he works his way up to the corner of your lips, running his tongue over where they blend into your skin.

“Huh?” You to look him in the eye and he swiftly stops your questioning by sucking your lower lips in between his.

You close your eyes then, question drowned out in bliss as Aki traces your teeth with his tongue. He knows how to shut people up, whether it be at work or at times like this. You make it easier than most though, accepting his tongue with no disapproval, even with your neck aching. He can determine that you’re enjoying yourself, your wetness seeping onto his thumb is a sure enough sign. You take him well, so good and enthusiastically, that he suddenly feels like it would be a crime to not at least acknowledge you.

“You wanna do something for me?” He asks after hesitantly pulling away. The mess of coagulating blood smeared across your throat is calling his name.

You shoot him a curious look, the effect is dulled by your shamefully flushed face, and shrug.

Aki rewards you with a smile and leans back, taking his hand out of your shorts. He watches with thinly concealed amusement as you try and curb your squirming. A small part of him feels as though he’s being too mean, that he should pay attention to you first. That soft voice is smothered by the way you look down on him.

“Get down there,” he clarifies. When you go still on his lap, Aki places a hand on your head, slowly pushing you to your knees as he observes the way his hand covers the majority of your head. He wonders how hard you’ll allow him to go as he chases quick flashes of images of you, choking around him, provided by his arousal-tainted imagination. “You know what to do.”

You give him a strange look as though you almost don’t believe what he’s saying. Then, you seem to take note of his massive hand on your head and the thick tent forming in his pants. Aki can practically see you think, he watches as your eyes move down his body, taking him in. Then, you acknowledge him with a small smile and a nod.

Aki lets his head rest on the brick behind it and he closes his eyes. He enjoys watching, but there’s something addictive in not knowing what will happen. His other senses make of for the loss of sight, every one of them hyper-aware of you sinking to your knees between his spread legs.

First, there’s a gentle, nearly imperceptible touch on his stomach. He can feel it through his itchy suit jacket. Your fingers are wandering, drifting cautiously over the rough fabric. You barely apply any pressure, the contact is so fleeting that Aki briefly wonders if he’s making this all up in his head. As he loses himself to your barely-there touches, he feels himself slowly grow harder in interest. He’s not fully there, but close. Your hand slipping under his shirt does the trick.

Your palms are slightly clammy and warm, but the contact is still welcome on his stomach. You rest your hand just above his waistband, digging your nails into his bony hip as you slide your thumb under his pants. Despite himself, Aki sighs at the touch and arches into it. It’s been a long time. Everything is more intense, your hesitant, testing touches, the way your soft fragrance mingles with the blood in the air. Aki feels dazed and inhales deeply. You cloud his mind, your cloying blood, and the scent of your arousal. Aki wishes he had half a mind to reach down and taste you. But no, he wants to savor this.

You seem to be done wasting time because you ruck his shirt up his stomach and begin messing with the button of his pants. It’s taking you a little too long for Aki’s liking, so he grudgingly opens his eyes to help. The sight of you sitting obediently on your knees, intensely staring at his crotch has Aki fumbling to get his pants undone as quickly as possible. They suddenly feel too constricting, too rough on his sensitive cock.

After a moment, Aki’s pushing his pants down, just enough to free up his crotch. He leaves his boxers on, letting you take over and resume your attention. Aki keeps himself focused on you as you begin to lavish him with those soft, teasing touches that he’s quickly come to love. Your hands feel careful and inexperienced as you trace the outline of his dick. Your eyes shine brightly in the dim light. It's difficult to make out much in the darkness, Aki can only clearly see the wet blood drying on your throat and the glassy shine of your eyes.

“C’mon,” he says, too desperate for his taste, angling his hips a little higher. “Touch me.”

You meet his eyes, smile, then lean down. He didn’t expect you to mouth the concealed head of his cock. Even through the cotton, Aki feels everything. Your warm, inviting breath, the damp of your tongue, the soft way your lips mold to his length. He feels himself pulse hard, the blood is rushing from his head faster than he can process and it has him reeling. Aki feels a twinge of embarrassment, here he is, sitting and squirming around in a dark alley, and you haven’t even touched him fully.

“Here,” Aki grasps your hand, perhaps too rough, and guides it to his waistband. “Get in there. You do something for me, I do something for you.”

You say something and comply, but it’s drowned out in Aki’s blurring thoughts. As you reach in to finally touch him, Aki can’t see anything but the way his hands dwarf yours. It's almost obscene; his fingers are thin and long and spam the length of your palm and first knuckle. Even as you tenderly pull his boxers down, he can’t think of anything but how it must feel to bury his fingers knuckle deep inside of you.

“You paying attention?” You ask and he snaps out of it as quickly as he fell under.

“Yeah,” Aki sighs and rolls his hips, grinding his overly-sensitive cock against your unsure hand. He can see a dribble of pre gleaming faintly in the light, and before he can stop himself, he’s swiped it up with his thumb and pushed it into your mouth.

“How’s that taste, huh?”

You respond by sucking his thumb into your mouth, wrapping your kiss-swollen lips around the digit. Aki sucks in a labored breath as your tongue traces his thumb. It should be humiliating for you to do this to someone you met maybe an hour prior. You don’t know his name, you don’t know who he is, yet you’re here on your knees for him, lavishing his fingers like they’re holy. Your tongue feels feverish and unnaturally wet, though that may be his hazy mind speaking for him. Even with his whole thumb buried in your warm cavern of a mouth, the rest of Aki’s fingers span the entire length of your jaw, coming to rest behind your ear.

“That good?” Aki chuckles and puts his other hand on his cock. Suddenly, he’s feeling far more patient. He could take his time watching you shamelessly worship his hands like they’re his cock.

Slowly, he wraps a hand around himself and has to bite back a groan as he finally stokes the rolling fire in his gut. The combination of your teeth dragging across the pads of his fingers and his hand tightly squeezing his shaft feel sinfully good. It takes everything in him to not give in and pump his hand hard. The amount of pre oozing from his slit is ridiculous, honestly. You’re too lost in bliss to notice.

“You ready?” Aki murmurs and hesitantly removes his thumb.

It’s wet, practically dripping in your saliva. You look rather pleased with yourself, so Aki wipes the smug look right off of your face by pushing your head towards his angry-hard cock. It's flushed a deep red and as he guides it into your mouth he can feel its near violent pulse.

You take it in your mouth, immediately getting to work. You’ve done this before, it’s obvious in the way you hollow your cheeks to take him deeper. Even with tears pricking at your eyes and having to struggle against gagging, you suck him in without faltering. Aki finds himself in a trance as he watches his cock sink into your mouth. He feels so relaxed that he finds himself reflexively reaching for a cigarette that isn’t there.

“Fuck,” Aki lets out a shuddering groan as you take his entire length. He can feel it in your throat, getting sucked in deeper and tighter. It feels intoxicating. Your mouth is velvety smooth and almost too warm, wet to a nearly vulgar degree.

Aki looks down at you, lips darkened with saliva and eyebrows furrowed with effort and he barely keeps himself from coming right then and there. You look filthy, not just because of the way you’re kneeling in a dark, trashed alley, but in the way you gaze up at him without an ounce of shame. Some of your actions are uncertain, but you more than make up for them in the sloppy way you get him off. There’s spit everywhere, your eyes are even watering as his cock rubs the wrong places in your throat, but you don’t seem to mind all the fluids.

As he stares, Aki can feel himself swell with arousal. It’s insane, he isn’t used to being so interested.

“I’m close,” he rasps, slipping his thumb back in your mouth right alongside his cock. The added girth stretches your mouth to its limit and you gag. The motion forces your throat to constrict and tighten around Aki’s cock.

The sensation, along with the profane way you allow your spit to freely spill from your lips, has Aki abruptly trapping your head in a vice grip, tossing his head back, and spilling deep into your throat. It catches him so off-guard that he can’t smother his low moan that radiates from deep in his chest. He looks down, sluggishly, sated, and huffs a laugh at the way you’re sitting there. His come is spilling from your lips and you spit it in a vile puddle at your side.

“Ah, sorry. I would’ve warned you,” Aki winces and leans forward to wipe your mouth with his shirt. Now that his mind is cleared up, he can’t help but think, why did I do that?

Your eyes don’t leave his as he cleans you, they’re dark with lingering arousal and it hits Aki that he has something to do for you now. You’ve more than earned it, he thinks. Before you can ask, Aki pulls you back onto his lap, once again entranced by the way his entire body seems to overshadow yours. He’s just so big, everything from his long, spindly fingers to his lean, powerful legs. As he notes the differences between you two, his dick begins to stir again.

You waste no time as you carefully position yourself on his lap and Aki helps you out of your shorts. He silently breathes a curse directed at the poor lighting, he wants nothing more than to clearly see your cunt as you press it against his cock. Before he can chase that thought further, you’re sliding across him, basically stroking him with your soft pussy. Aki didn’t know it was possible to get so hard in so little time, but you proved him wrong.

“You’re- Fuck,” Aki stutters and his hands hover over your hips. “How are you so wet? I didn’t do anything.”

You grind down harder, letting out a small groan of your own. It sounds melodic in Aki’s ears, and he immediately decides that he needs to do whatever he can to pul more of those sounds from you.

“I can be wetter,” you murmur, leaning in close to his ear. “Touch me, you can’t fuck me, I don’t have a condom.”

Aki nods as you softly mouth the side of his throat, mirroring his earlier actions. You aren’t bold enough to bite him, but your velvety soft lips make his skin prickle with gooseflesh.

Even though his cock is burning to be inside of you, Aki settles for running his hand down to cup your cunt. He keeps his touch so light, just barely hovering above your swollen, neglected clit. He doesn’t relent, even when you arch into him, thrusting your clothed tits in his face. As Aki regards them, you lift your shirt, exposing a lacy bra. It’s too tight for you, your breasts are practically spilling out and Aki can see the edge of your areolas peeking out.

He looks up into your dark eyes and then back down at your chest, murmuring, “What’s all this about?”

You respond with a sly smile, then wrap your hands around his neck and push his face in between your tits. Aki’s instantly lost in the soft, warm pressure of them and he can’t help but finally slip one of his long fingers into you. You deserve it, he thinks, you’re so willing and malleable in his hands. You gasp and grip his hair, tangling the strands right from the root. It draws out a moan, deep and unabashed, from Aki and he returns the favor by curling his finger inside of you while grinding his palm onto your clit.

You’re making a mess, you’re leaking everywhere, your juices defiling Aki’s hand and your panties. He absently wonders if the scent will linger on his hand. In return, Aki tugs your bra down with his teeth and you shrug the straps down. He sets a rhythm, pumping his fingers, pressing your clit, and sucking bruises into your chest all at once. He stays away from your pebbled nipples, knowing that the moment he gives them attention, he won’t be able to stop himself.

Despite his better judgment, your nipples look overwhelmingly tempting and Aki gives in, wrapping his lips around one of them and giving it a light nip. He needs to test you, discern how much you can take. You seem too lost in pleasure to give him valid feedback though. He looks up to gauge your reaction and is met with the sight of your head thrown back as you wantonly roll your hips down to meet the pumping of his fingers. Aki then notices your arousal seeping around his finger.

“Can you take another?”

You nod and breathe out a soft, “Yes.” So he indulges you, pushing a second finger in and watching you greedily suck it up.

You give slightly under his internal touches, so without warning, he slides another in and you clutch his hair like you’re afraid you’ll float away. Every time you tug at his hair, Aki leans back in to shower your chest in little bites and open-mouthed kisses. He can hear your heart pounding furiously and he can’t keep himself from dragging the points of his teeth over your nipple. You arch and clench hard around his fingers.

Aki can’t process anything but the soaked sound of his fingers plunging and stretching you. The way you sigh and groan as he explores your insides. He finds that sweet spot deep within you and strokes it while he smashes your clit into his palm. The wet, sloppy sounds are music to his ears and goad him into full-on sinking his teeth into the meat of your breast.

That gets a reaction out of you, a loud, sharp, “Fuck!” as he draws more blood. You don’t jerk away, so Aki rewards you with a faster pace, fucking you hard with his fingers as he soothes the wound he inflicted.

It’s hard to think, you’re so small and warm and your blood is cloying, stifling the rest of his senses. It tastes sharp and metallic and Aki stops himself before he tears your skin again. It's so tempting though, your tits are so soft and yielding, like they’re begging to be defiled.

As Aki smooths his tongue over the wound, you begin to tug harder at the roots of his hair and grind down with more vigor. You’re heaving, panting unashamedly, and gushing around his fingers. Aki realizes what’s happening belatedly, it takes you clenching around his fingers so hard that they nearly slip out for it to click for him.

You fall limp, burying your face in his neck and melting into his chest. The blood smeared across your tits is getting on his shirt, it will probably stain. Aki can’t bring himself to care though, there’s not much he can think of apart from the sharp fragrance of your arousal and blood. The scents mingle in the air and drift up Aki’s sinuses. They couple in his head, blurring his thoughts together.

Aki is barely lucid as you peel yourself off of him and gather up your scattered things. He watches you, vaguely interested but more focused on his raging, pulsing cock. You glance down at it, standing straight up, all violently hard, and you just smile before walking away.

Aki watches you go, then heads up to his apartment, wondering how he can find you again.

arrival in tokyo / hayakawa aki

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

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 23.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then repeat what I said." Aki commands. 

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

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

He also happens to be pretty fun to mess with. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, come on. Just tell me." 

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

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

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

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

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

Aki scoffs, "What's it to you?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Or what?" 

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

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

"C'mere." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aki taunts, "Yeah? You think so?" 

"I know so." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tch. You're an asshole."  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't think they warrant answers." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And you have a small dick." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And? What else?" 

"And that you have a small dick." 

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

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

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

He's caught onto you, hasn't he? 

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

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

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

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

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

"You're projecting." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I… I don't…" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah, s-shit," Aki stammers, "You…" 

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

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

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

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

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

You retort, "Why should I?" 

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

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

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

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

Aki stutters, "No, I'm-" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then get on your knees." 

You don't need to be told twice. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good. That's what I like to hear." 

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh? You think it's pretty?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, "Mhmmm. Yes, sir." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirk. "Then don't." 

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

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

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

You huff, "Yeah, I'm sure." 

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

"Aki." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just as badly as you." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I will if you ask nicely." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aki-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hear the button on your pants pop. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhmm, yessir." 

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

"Open your mouth." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You manage to reply, "Mhmm.." 

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

I'm right here. Focus on me. Got it? 

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

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

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

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

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

Shit… You want me to go faster? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You still want me, don't you? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aki, please. 

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

So desperate for me. Be patient. 

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

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

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

You can hardly speak: "No, I… I'm…" 

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

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

Aki, fuck me. 

Aki scoffs. Tsk. Try again. Ask properly. 

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

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

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

Ask nicely. Say please for me. 

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

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

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

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

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

God, I'm gonna give you all of it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your hands tighten, grabbing uselessly at the wall, fingertips scraping the surface. Aki suddenly grabs your chin, roughly jerking your head upwards, and you hear him mumble something that sounds like, Open. 

You take the hint, opening your mouth wide, and while he's still fucking you, rutting his hips to a desperate fervor, Aki messily spits — The glob drips from his tongue, a string of drool, a total mess of his saliva. When it falls to your mouth, you gulp, and Aki groans, his dick throbbing at the sight, at the way you eagerly swallow down his spit. 

He leans back, then, spitting another messy glob of saliva — It drips down your ass, all the way to the shaft of his dick, getting it slicker, wetter when he shoves it back inside and God, it's so damn wet, so soaked, so easy for him to fuck himself into you. 

You're both getting louder, despite your attempts to keep quiet, and Aki hastily brings his hand to your mouth, covering it firmly with his palm. He leans in, his voice low and strict when he scolds, "I told you to be quiet. Do you want someone to hear us, or what?" 

… Actually, he knows he shouldn't get excited by that thought — He knows he shouldn't feel his dick get harder, his breath come out quicker, and his heart hammer faster when he imagines someone walking down this alley and seeing him fucking you senseless, but he just can't help it. He can't help but feel like he wants someone to see, to know just how desperate and needy you are for him. 

But, even if he enjoys the idea, he's still a man of his word, and when you're acting disobediently, something needs to be done. 

So, Aki begins to slow his pace. His thrusts are deep, but restrained, agonizingly teasing as he drags his cock out lazily, feeling the way your walls tighten, gripping the shaft. You mumble something incoherent into his palm; perhaps a protest, or possibly a plea for more. 

Nevertheless, Aki ignores it, and asks, "Can you hear that?" 

You promptly shake your head. Honestly, it's hard for you to even hear anything. His voice sounds like it's been plunged underwater, your head fuzzy with clouds and fluff, your brain practically unable to think. All you're focused on is the intense pleasure you're feeling: warmth that spreads across your entire body, pooling in your gut, causing your legs to shake and your toes to curl. You try your best to pay attention, and you don't notice it at first, but then —

When he thrusts in again, that's when you hear it — A disgustingly wet noise, so loud, the echo seeming to fill the entire alley. 

Heat rises in your cheeks, and a low chuckle falls from Aki's mouth. "So fucking wet…" He taunts, "You're still so loud. God, what am I going to do with you?" 

Aki keeps his palm deft to your mouth as he begins rutting into you harder again, burying his face into your neck to stifle his noise. He fucks you faster, harder, putting his full weight into every thrust. His pace grows ragged as he chases his own pleasure, his hand shifting, his thumb pressing to your lips, urging you to part them. And when you do, he's shoving his thumb into your mouth, pressing it to your tongue, mumbling the command: Suck on it. 

You do as you're told, lips closing around his thumb as you suck gently, your moans muffled, quiet. Aki feels himself start to lose control, his edge growing closer. 

He groans, "Shit, I can't- I'm close-" He thinks he can hold out, but when you start whimpering around his finger, shifting your weight on your heels to press your ass into him, urging him to fuck you even deeper, he's pressing his lips to your throat, muttering into your skin, "You want my cum?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I want it-" 

"F-Fuck… You gonna ask for it nicely?" 

Aki thinks, Of course you are. 

"Uh-huh," You're stammering, nodding your head feverishly, Aki fucking you to a desperate pace, "Please, I want your cum, Hayakawa, sir, please." 

Hayakawa, sir. God. 

Aki yanks your dress shirt up to your chest as he pulls out, and he wraps his hand around his cock, jerking it with a tight grip. The tension snaps, and Aki gasps — His cum shoots from his cock, ropes of sticky white covering your back, your ass, dripping down to your thighs, getting you utterly filthy. He lets his cock lay over your ass, squeezing the sensitive tip of his cockhead, making sure everything he has to give you drips out onto your skin. 

"H-hah, shit," Aki mumbles, his voice hoarse, breathless, "So messy… Such a good girl. Such a good girl for me." 

He comes down slowly, catching his breath, his arm coming to wrap around your stomach when he sees you starting to slip. With a shudder he can feel across his entire body, Aki drags his half-hard cock over your ass, over his cum, and although he's trying to calm down, when he looks at you like this, as you eagerly grind your ass up against him, he just can't. 

He's swiftly filled with the imperative to fuck you again, to get more, because he isn't done. There's more he can give to you, more he can take. 

Still, the prickle of nervousness welling in his chest causes him to turn and look towards the entrance of the alley. There's more people than ever. He can see their small, shadowy forms as they walk past. If any of them walk just a little bit closer, then… 

For a very brief moment, Aki considers stopping. He contemplates whether or not he should ask you if this is too much, if you two should get out of here like he initially suggested. But, all of those hesitations are cast away, all of his nervousness is replaced by a wave of desire the moment he hears you speak. 

You beg, "Aki, please. I want more, want you to make me cum- Please, can you?" 

It's risky, and only getting riskier. But when you ask him like that, when you beg for him to make you cum, how is he supposed to resist you? You always win in the end. 

So, Aki slurs, "Okay, okay, yeah." He places his hands gently on your waist, instructing, "Turn around for me, baby."

As you shakily stand to your feet, he holds you up by your waist so you won't fall. Then, he guides you to twist until your back is pressed to the wall, your weight leant on it, and your arms around his shoulders to keep yourself steady. 

Aki reaches up, grasping the diamond of his tie, carefully loosening it until it hangs undone around his collar. You clasp your hands around his neck, and he pops the buttons on his suit jacket next, taking it off and tossing it to the ground — It's filthy already, anyway — leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt. 

He hikes his sleeves up to his forearms, exposing his biceps, skin covered in scars from various contracts, and you're reaching down to jerk him as he does it, your palm around his cock quickly getting him hard again. 

Aki's eyes meet yours. Gently, he places his arms under your ass, lifting you up until you can wrap your legs around his waist. The metal of his earrings glint in the dim light, the tips of his ears a faint shade of pink. 

He looks so different from what you're used to, from the way he normally looks: so serious and poker-faced. Right now, his gaze is deep, filled with longing, his pupils blown wide. His messy bangs stick to his forehead from sweat, his eyelashes flutter, and his cheeks are flushed a light tinge of pink, warm to the touch when you cup his face in your free hand. 

He's pretty like this, you think. He's pretty when his bangs frame his face, when his hair is loose and unkempt, close to falling out of his topknot. He's pretty with his soft lips parted, when he's only in his dress shirt, with his slacks pooling at his ankles, when he's so goddamn needy for you. His voice sounds pretty and deep when he slurs a quick, You ready? And when you nod, he's easing back into you — The expression on his face then is the prettiest. 

It's warm, wet, tight, especially from this angle. Aki's breath hitches the second he's pressed in, and as his cock slowly fills you, the pleasure starting to build up again, he clumsily grabs your chin, pulling you in until your lips come crashing onto his. 

He moans into your mouth as he kisses you, his tongue swirling around yours, your hands fisted in his collar to drag him in even closer. He buries his cock in deeper, all the way, and it's so much, too much — His dick is so sensitive he can hardly stand it, and it's so damn messy when he thrusts in, the shaft smeared with his cum, your pussy dripping with your own arousal. He pulls his lips away from yours to gasp for breath, starting to fuck you to a steady rhythm, as best he can handle. 

His head is cloudy, all his limbs feel light, and when he buries himself in the tight warmth of your cunt, he finds himself drowning in the feeling. You feel so good, so amazing — You're so warm, so close, and there's so much pleasure. So much, so much, so much, and, God, he's going to lose his fucking mind. 

Your hand holds the back of his head, fingers threading through his soft hair. When he suddenly thrusts into you hard, you whimper, gripping close to the scalp, sending tingles down his neck and over his shoulders. Aki presses feverish kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your nose, and when he pulls back, his forehead falls to press against yours. His words are mumbled softly from his throat, barely more than a whisper. 

You take me so well, you know that? 

He's forehead to forehead with you then, his topknot coming looser and looser as your hands tug at his hair with every rough thrust. Aki can feel sweat dripping from his brow, can hear the wet squelch of his cock fucking into your soaked cunt. 

You want me to fuck you harder, baby? Tell me what you want, I wanna make you cum. 

You nod and babble without a second thought, Yeah, Aki, please. 

Aki gasps — Oh my God… — His pace growing faster, less contained. It's hard for him to breathe, even harder for him to think, but the way you say his name is so amazing, so perfect, all he knows is that he needs to hear you say it again. He doesn't care who hears anymore, he doesn't care that you're both getting louder and louder, your moans turning into screams. All he cares about is you, you, you. 

Aki grips your waist tighter, tight enough you're sure his grip will bruise. He commands breathlessly, "Want you to say my name again. Tell me who's fucking you so good right now." 

His voice is all it takes to have you oblige: You chant his name, over and over again, tell him, You are, you are, Aki. Each time it falls from your lips, his heart skips a beat, his dick throbs and holy shit — He needs to give you his cum, he needs to finish with you, more than he thinks he's needed anything in this goddamn world. 

With each thrust in, he's hitting that perfect sweet spot deep in your core, pushing you to the edge. You feel it coming, your breath starting to quicken, your muscles starting to tense, the pleasure boiling and boiling and —

"Aki!" You cry out his name, your eyes screwing shut, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum…" 

"Yeah, h-hah, I'm close too," Aki presses a quick, faint kiss to your forehead, his lips soft, his touch tender. Your high approaches with a rush of adrenaline and waves of pleasure, and just before you fall to pieces, just as you're reaching your peak, Aki's deep and smooth voice mutters instructions that push you right over the edge. 

Cum for me. Get my dick nice and wet, pretty girl. 

You're falling apart for him then, your whole body tensing, your hands clamoring at his back, grabbing fistfuls of his dress shirt, your cunt throbbing around his dick; you bury your head in his shoulder to stifle your noise, but Aki can still hear your moans, your wobbly chants of his name. Aki, Aki, Aki — Over and over again, so fucking desperate, so pretty, and all for him. 

Aki presses a firm hand to the back of your head, holding you there, close to himself. He fucks you clumsily, his hips beginning to stutter, and when he feels you cum on him, squeezing like a vice around his cock, he can't hold himself back from riding the same high. 

He shoves himself in deep, fucking you shallowly through his orgasm, his cock spilling inside, filling you with the last of his cum. He gasps out your name as he finishes, incoherent strings of curses and gasps alongside it — Fuck, fuck, feels so- Oh God, babygirl… — his voice high-pitched, strained. His vision goes white, his hands tremble as he holds onto your sides, and his whole body shudders before his muscles relax. 

Time appears frozen in place for a few short moments. You begin to catch your breath, your heart rate slowing down, the high you were feeling starting to fade. Once exhaustion hits your limbs, your body slumps, and Aki holds you up, muttering quietly into your ear, "I've got you."

His breath feels warm on your cheek as he exhales shallow gasps. Your eyelids feel heavy, sleepy, the warmth of his body held close to yours just amplifying the feeling. Aki whispers, "You okay?" And when you nod your head, he softly instructs, "Here. I'm gonna set you down. Put your arms around me." 

You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders, and very carefully, Aki puts you down, making sure you've regained your stability before he fully lets go. 

Everything starts to become clearer as Aki helps you get dressed, one of his hands kept on your waist to steady you. He pulls up your pants, buttons them, tucks your shirt in so it looks orderly. He brushes messy strands of hair from your face, his fingertips brushing over the marks on your skin, over your neck — Undeniable proof that he was there, that this was real. Even now, he still finds it hard to believe. 

Perhaps he should be angry with you, perhaps he should scold you for what happened. But… Honestly, after taking out his stresses on you, he feels too calm to make a big deal out of it. 

He fixes himself next: he pulls up his slacks and re-clasps his belt buckle. He bends down to snatch his suit jacket from the ground, pulling it back over his shoulders and buttoning it up. He grasps his tie, straightening it, pulling to make it tight. 

His gaze meets yours as he's reaching up into his hair, grasping the loose hair tie to pull it out, dark, messy locks falling around his face. "You're not talking," He says, crooking an eyebrow, "You must be tired." 

You groggily reply, "Mhmm… I am. Really tired." You pause, nearly losing your train of thought when you look at him, admiring the way he looks with his hair down, so pretty — But once you find it again, you ask, "Do you think anyone saw us?" 

Aki takes a quick glance at the entrance to the alley. The traffic seems to have cleared, with much less people walking by than before. Nothing seems suspicious, nothing seems out of the ordinary, and when he looks towards the other side of the alleyway, he concludes that the two of you are still very much alone. 

He shakes his head and replies, "No, no. I don't think so." 

Although your brain still feels hazy and muddled, and your body feels weak and weary, you've begun to come to your senses. The reality of the situation, of what happened, hits you all at once, and as if he can read your mind, Aki tells you, "We don't have to talk about any of this, if you don't want to." 

With his hair tie around his wrist, he grabs his hair, tying it up neatly into his signature topknot, nice and tight. He shoves his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket once he's done. 

"No, it's fine, it's…" You avert your eyes for a moment, trying to think, "It's okay. To talk about it, I mean. I don't regret anything." 

Aki hums, "That's good to know." 

He finds his cigarettes, pulling one out and sticking it between his teeth. Then, his lighter, and he tilts his head away from you to strike the wheel, a small flame bringing his cigarette to life. 

To break the silence, you ask him, "You gonna make me go back to work now?" 

Aki shrugs his shoulders. "C'mon," He replies, putting his lighter back in his pocket, smoke wisping up from the end of his cig, "I'm not that mean. You live around here? I'll walk you home, I'll tell Makima you got sick or something." 

"No, I don't. They had me staying at Public Safety for now." 

Aki takes a long drag in from his cigarette. The nicotine soothes his lungs, relaxing his body and his mind. He feels calmer, more composed, his worries melting away. Perhaps that's why, after he's exhaled the smoke from his lungs, when he opens his mouth next, he's saying to you, "I'll take you back to my place, then." 

"What?" You exclaim, "No way, that's not necessary." 

"I won't be there, I still have work I need to get done today. I'll give you my keys, you can leave whenever you're ready. Or stay until I get back, it's up to you." 

"But-" You're about to protest, but instead, you sigh in defeat. "Alright, fine. You missed a spot, by the way." 

"Huh?" 

You grab his shirt collar, still smeared with a bright red lipstick stain, and tuck it into his jacket. In the dim light, it's difficult to tell, but you swear you can see the slightest tinge of pink dawn on Aki's cheeks. He says nonchalantly, "Oh, thanks." 

Tapping his cigarette with his finger to scatter the ash, Aki brings his free hand to your waist, holding it hesitantly, his eyes scanning your face as if he's waiting for some kind of objection. When there is none, he brings his cigarette back to his lips, taking another drag before abruptly asking, "Did Makima assign you a buddy yet?" 

"...What's that?" 

"Everyone at Public Safety has a partner for going on patrols and such. It's safer that way, to work in pairs," Aki explains, "You should be mine." 

"Huh? Really?" You huff a dry laugh and lean back further against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're joking, right?" 

"Nope." When he answers, his voice sounds stern and serious as ever, true to his words. "My last buddy quit, so now I don't have one." 

"That's not what I meant. I mean like… Why would you ask me? I thought you hated my guts." You scoff, "You really wanna be buddies with a devil?" 

Aki eyes you up and down, his expression poker-faced. "Considering what I just did with said devil, I don't think it's so crazy." He tilts his head upwards, exhaling smoke into the afternoon sky. "I'll take back my proposal if you're not interested." 

"No, I'm…" You blurt out, looking away sheepishly, "I'm interested." 

"Good. I'll give the paperwork to Miss Makima. You'll have to sign some things tomorrow." 

As seconds bleed into minutes, puffy white clouds passing idly in the sky, Aki finishes his cigarette, dropping it to the ground and stamping it out with the heel of his shoe. He takes a step back from you, looking down, checking to make sure he looks in order. 

There's still one more thing lingering in your mind, and so, you ask him, "Hey, Aki." 

Aki looks up, "Yeah?" 

"Do you think I'm pretty?" 

Aki chuckles. He reaches down, grabbing his sword sheath from off the floor. "Yeah, I do. I thought so when I first saw you." 

You huff, "Wish you'd have just admitted to that from the start."

"Well," Aki stands up straight, tossing the strap of his sheath over his shoulder. A soft, ever-so slight smile forms on his face. "If I had done that, we wouldn't have had as much fun, now would we?" 

He rustles around in his pockets, finding his keys. The keyring jingles when he places them in your open hands. You examine them: there's a couple of silver keys, a metal tag with his last name, and a small label of a three digit number. His apartment number, you assume. 

"So…" You start, looking up at him, "I guess this means we'll be working together from now on, yeah? You better not argue with me the whole time. I'd like to do my job in peace, you know." 

Aki smiles a little bit wider. "Don't worry. I think we'll get along just fine." 

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. 

The endless lull of the clock on the wall would be enough to make Aki fall asleep, if he wasn't busy finishing up paperwork. 

He sighs, learning back further in his office chair, rubbing some of the tiredness from his eyes with his hands. Even though he rushed to the Public Safety building the second he was finished with his assignments, it still feels like he's been here forever. Thankfully, he's nearly done filling out papers. Soon, he'll be able to head home. 

As he stares absentmindedly at the ceiling, counting each speckle of popcorn in the drywall, he wonders if you're still at his place, or if you've left already. He told you to make yourself at home, so perhaps you're still there, watching late-night television. Maybe you raided his fridge and ate all his leftovers. 

A small part of him hopes you'll be there when he arrives, greeting him at the door as he walks in. Or maybe curled up asleep on the couch, because you couldn't stay awake any longer. He definitely wouldn't blame you. 

A gentle knock at the door stirs him from his thoughts. Aki sits up straight, and a voice from behind it quietly asks, "Can I come in?" 

"Yes." Aki answers, and he swivels his chair towards the door just as it opens. A woman with long, braided red hair steps in, and she greets him with a soft smile and a wave. 

"How was today?" Makima asks, closing the door, then crossing her arms behind her back. "What do you think of our new recruit? Did you two get along?" 

"They're…" Aki narrows his eyes. He taps the tip of his pen idly against the desk. "...Interesting." 

"Do you think they'll be useful?" 

Aki scoffs, "They like to mess around more than they like to work, but it's nothing we can't whip back into shape, so, yes. I would say so." 

"Hm, alright," Makima places a hand to her chin, cocking her head slightly. "I saw the paperwork you left on my desk. You made a request to change your buddy, didn't you?" 

"Oh, yes ma'am. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I'm just surprised is all. I thought for sure you two would end up hating each other. I suppose I was wrong." 

Aki stays silent for a moment. Yeah, that's what he thought too, wasn't it? When this day started, all he could do was count down the minutes until it was over in his head, until he wouldn't have to deal with you anymore. But now, he can't even focus on his paperwork because he's too busy thinking about you, too busy wondering when he'll get to see you again. 

Damn, when did he get so obsessed? Was it by your doing, or was it his? 

He doesn't know, so he just shakes his head and replies, "I thought so too. But I guess… I don't." 

Makima eyes him up and down for a moment. "Well, as long as you fill out all the necessary paperwork, and make sure you get our new recruit to fill it out as well, I can approve your request." 

Aki nods. "Okay, thank you." 

Makima turns to leave. Aki turns back to his paperwork. The clock continues to tick, and his pen scratches the desk as he checks a box, then messily signs his name in cursive. The door opens with a creak, Makima takes one step out, but then she abruptly turns around. 

"Oh, and Hayakawa?" 

Aki looks up. "Yeah?" 

"The next time I have you two patrol together, make sure you actually get some work done. I'm enlisting you two to hunt devils, not fuck on the job." 

And with that, Makima steps out of the office, leaving Aki to stare wide-eyed and red-faced at the door as it swings shut. 

broody, traumatized anime men with black hair are my weakness

CSM MASTERLIST

⋆ aki hayakawa- aki pining for you

⋆ denji- denji pining for you

⋆ kishibe- kishibe pining for you

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☆ CSM characters pining for you

⋆ Aki, Denji, and Kishibe pining for you hard ⋆ INFO... reader's gender isn't clear (I think), mutual pining, not proofread, might be ooc. ⋆ original request

⋆ AKI HAYAKAWA

With Aki pining for you, it was difficult on him. He was more closed off to you than to others. Everything around him reminded him of you—even a small scent that smelled like you would warp his mind into images of you. Everything was about you in his mind, even if he didn’t want it to be like that. He knew that with this line of work, he wouldn’t be here for long, and the same was true for you. So why would he put you or him through that pain? Knowing there's a possibility of that one mission going bad and either of you not returning to each other. He always longed for you and wanted to live a normal life with you—to have you in his arms. Yet he knew that with this stupid and dangerous job, he couldn’t. Although he couldn't distance himself from you, he tried. He tried his best to get away from you to get over his feelings. He couldn't, though; you both were partners, and if either of you started to drift away, you’d come back to each other like strong magnets.

It was evident that you both were strongly pining for each other; it was as clear as day in both of your actions. You both tried so, so, so hard to avoid each other as if you were the bubonic plague. Scared to get close to the point where there was no return, scared that if you got the tiniest bit close, that bond would get ripped from your hands due to some dirty devil.

You both knew there was no way to have each other in this line of work. You knew it, he knew it, and you both hated it. You longed for each other; glares lasting a bit too long, a mind filled with images of each other, and things as reminders of both of you made it so painfully obvious. You could have each other, yet there would be so much pain and suffocating agony with that.

That pain would be added to a hill of past aches, making that hill crumble with the suffrage of each other.

⋆ DENJI

He couldn’t have you, and knowing that hurt him. He was just some “stupid” half-human, half-devil hybrid, and you were an important, high-ranking devil hunter. A hunter is designed to hunt and kill things like him. He wished and longed for you. He wanted you to be his, to be able to kiss you, to be able to talk to you—even the ability to breathe in the same room as you would be some wish bestowed by the gods. He wanted it to be real, not some make-believe juvenile dream of his.

He’d distract himself with stupid little things in an attempt to get over you: taking care of Meowy, doing chores for Aki, hanging out with power, doing missions for Makima—anything that would get his mind away from you, he would do. He didn't mind thinking of you, man; he loved being able to have those sweet-lined reveries of you, yet the only thing that made them displeasing was him knowing that you'd never be his. He wouldn’t be able to recreate his dreams with you.

He could never get over you, though; he knew it. There were no amount of things in this world to make him forget you completely. You had successfully infested his mind. You were like the growing moss on an old brick wall, fungi growing on a log, and weeds growing on a green lawn. You were beautiful yet dangerous. You were something so unique, yet the more you were in Denji's brain, the more you took over. You were becoming the only thing his frontal lobe could think of.

He wished and wished there was some universe that would grant him his biggest wish. The wish of you both being together, he knew it was greedy, but even a universe where you two were at least the best of friends would satisfy him. Maybe in some universe, you two were destined to be together. But that universe wasn’t this one.

If only he knew you thought the same.

⋆ KISHIBE

Kishibe would drink more in an attempt to forget about you if that were even possible. That never worked, though; he knew he couldn’t have you and knew he couldn’t be with you, and that hurt the most. He was desensitized to things like pain due to his line of work, yet why did this specific pain hurt the most? He tried his hardest to push it down as much as possible and try to ignore it, yet that never worked.

Whenever he’s around you, he actually drinks less. He was scared he’d say something he didn't want you to know; it was his first time experiencing something like this. Sure, he might've had his share of flings and dates with others, yet you were just different. You were enchanting, as if you casted a spell on him the first time you worked together as partners years ago. This explained his fear of exposing his deep and raw feelings for you; he didn’t want to scare you off.

Although this attraction to you has lasted for a while since you first got assigned as partners when he was still in his youth, He never acted upon it, and although there were clear hints of you having similar feelings, he was too scared to act on it. Although he was a somewhat emotional individual, he was different when it came to you. He was more emotional, more weak, and more vulnerable. He was also sentimental; little things, scents, and memories would bring a tidal wave of nostalgia over him.

Memories of you both doing partner work when you both were young, killing demons together, and memories of bickering with each other would swarm over his being. Being overjoyed with the joy of those sweet memories—but that joy was short-lived—the feeling of knowing that you were only something he could view, something he could only glance at and not hold grounded him, it made it clear this wasn't some dream that could come to reality.

This was worse than death for him; it was agony.

main masterlist

“What color are your eyes?” your hands are cupping his face, fingers tracing every curve. 

“B-blue.” Aki stutters out, warmth rushing to his cheeks.

Your hands held his face with a tenderness neither the two of you thought you were capable of. 

“Blue?” Your hold on him is firm, forcing him to look directly into the two voids of metal and carnage that served as your eyes. It was one of the many things that reminded him that you weren’t human.

“What is blue?”

A firework goes off, dangerously close to nearby buildings. Shouts can be heard down below as fire crews clamor about to ensure the safety of surrounding city blocks.

He catches the look on your face with an expression he can’t precisely describe in the brief flashes of light. 

It makes his heartbeat quicken and drives a chill down his spine.

“B-blue, it’s the color of the sky and the sea.”

“Are your eyes like the sky and sea then?”

“I don’t know.”

You hum, face mere millimeters apart from him.

“I don’t know what this ‘blue’ looks like but…” you pause, “...I think your ‘blue’ puts the sky and sea's to shame.”