#show club tokyo night club

[icantalk710]

Tell me, what's...

Tell me, what's your favorite colour~

[puprdou]

jealous bf!manjiro sano who just can’t stand it when he sees you hanging out with another guy. how could you? standing there, practically challenging him with those sweet laughs that boy pulls out of you and those loving smiles that only he should be recieving.

jealous bf!manjiro sano who wraps his arms snugly around you whenever the both of you are in public, eyeing anyone who even dares look at you for more than 2 seconds with a look designed to kill, whilst he holds you like the precious, innocent little angel you are.

jealous bf!manjiro sano who hates seeing you getting harassed by those disgusting men all because you wore that pretty pink skirt that was just a tad bit too short he bought for you recently; tearing their eyes out, that had been lustfully looking you over, all on his own whilst sanzu watches him in a dark alleywall, all for disrespecting you.

jealous bf!manjiro sano who never lets you into the bonten headquarters, even if you’re feeling needy and you want to see him, because he knows the looks you’ll be given by his top executives. he can’t kill his executives, so, the only solution is to not let them see you; if they did, he would be forced to kill them. he hates those catcalls boys make upon seeing you, and he knew they would do the same.

jealous bf!manjiro sano who’ll kidnap that man who was harassing you just earlier at your favorite little store when he was taking you out shopping, tie him to a chair and force him to watch as he fucks you raw, showing him just how much of his you really are.

jealous bf!manjiro sano who doesn’t care if he has to fuck you in public, to make both you and others understand that your his, he’ll do it on every surface, with no care in the world who’s watching; at the club? don’t care. at the mall? don’t care. at a restaurant? don’t care. he doesn’t care where, or when, he’ll put you in your damn place.

jealous bf!manjiro sano who’ll have eyes on you at all times; whether it be his executives keeping an eye on you as your very own little bodyguards thanks to his order, or whether it be he’s tracking you, he will constantly know where you are at every second of the day.

jealous bf!manjiro sano who’ll destroy all of tokyo if he has to once he finds out that you’ve been taken by an enemy mafia. he’ll kill every warm body in the entire state if that’s what it means to find you, he’ll turn all of tokyo into his murder house until your in his arms once again.

jealous bf!manjiro sano who’ll treat you with the most delicate love and care, despite the way he treats others as a feared boss of the most dangerous mafia in all of tokyo. giving you the sweetest kisses, the most tender touches, and the most loving words whispered into your ear by the end of the night as he holds you tight. ♡

© 2025 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔, all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, steal or translate my works onto other social media platforms.

[flopsxii]

random tokyo revengers head canons (most are x reader, a few aren’t.)

feat. sanzu haruchiyo, sano ‘mikey’ manjiro, mitsuya takashi, matsuno chifuyu, inui seishu, haitani rindou, baji keisuke, haitani ran, kokonoi hajime, kazutora hanemiya, sano shinichiro

tw. violence, drug usage.

my note: just some stuff that came to mind :P

𐙚 bonten!sanzu is definitely the type to make his victims play russian roulette, changing the odds each time to increase his excitement. he would also probably make his partner play if they were unfaithful.

𐙚 despite how aggressive everyone views mikey he is definitely a really affectionate lover. he would cling to you all night, light snores escaping his lips and becoming impossibly closer; tangling his legs with yours. however, sharing his food is a step too far for mikey, he would definitely find a seperate portion for you though!

𐙚 rather than confessing in a traditional sense, mitsuya would definitely confess to you through a letter and a heartfelt gift. most likely something he’s made himself, with you specifically in mind. with his heart on his sleeve and a shy smile on his lips, mitsuya would hand you a small bag, containing a letter with your name written messily on the front and also a neatly wrapped gift he hoped you’d love.

𐙚 one of chifuyu’s favourite ‘dates’ with you are days you spend by his side in his store. even if you just sat there looking impossibly beautiful and he rushed around the store with so many tasks ( arguable looking like he’s losing his mind), he’d feel somewhat calmer knowing you were there with him. plus, all the animals had someone to cuddle with, proving to customers how domesticated they were.

𐙚 seishu adores mundane things. cooking, cleaning, sleeping, showering, bike rides and shopping becoming that much more precious because you’re there. he’s sure that these things would be a bore to him if he were to be on his own. but ever since you came along, that has never been the case.

𐙚 despite how much time he already spends inside his store, chifuyu would definitely spend multiple evenings a week just playing with the animals and making sure they’re content rather than being a home. don’t worry, peke j comes to work with him and has so many new friends!

𐙚 rindou definitely runs his sets by you. if you praise it then he is hyped to present it to an audience at he and ran’s club. it honestly depends on your reaction, if he’ll play this set or play it safe and reuse an old one.

𐙚 conveniently, all of mitsuya’s prototypes are your size and somehow every piece looks like it was made for you; which it probably was. at this point, mitsuya designs clothes subconsciously with your figure in mind and since they fit and look so good on you, you just happen to have to model each and every piece.

𐙚 going out on extravagant dates is never on keisuke’s agenda. it’s not because he doesn’t want to spoil you and show you off, he simply doesn’t feel the need to go on these types of dates. simply smoking a zoot with each other is so impossibly intimate, having deep talks with his lovely partner is all he could ever dream of. plus… saving money on snacks, za and movies is 100% better and he’s certain you agree too!

𐙚 no one could ever suspect it, but ran loves it when you colour in his tattoos. he’s sure his friends would poke fun at him, calling him a simp or any other insult they could think of, but seeing that smile on your face as you play such close attention… he would take any insult to see it again and again.

𐙚 there’s many reasons why koko loves you. maybe how ethereal you look, how supportive and loving you are towards him… but above all else, you could be one of the only people that don’t want him for money. koko will send you money as a surprise, so you can buy yourself something nice but nine times out of ten, you will send it straight back. the other one time, you’ll come bounding home with a gift for him in your bag!

𐙚 mikey is definitely the type to sneak into your house late at night, whining about how he just missed you so much and he couldn’t wait till morning. most days, you’d wake up and find mikey almost on top of you when he wasn’t there the night before.

𐙚 if you happen to be related to any of toman, you can bet that instead of having one other brother, you now have a whole gaggle of them worrying about you. even if you’re out with your friends, you’re bound to find at least one member of toman nearby. just in case, of course!

𐙚 kazutora trusts you, keisuke and chifuyu more than anyone else and he’s been so thankful for his support system after his time in prison. however, no one sees the raw, vulnerable and so impossibly kazutora side of him. he thinks he’d been seen as weak but he’s so thankful he has you.

𐙚 he splits his time almost evenly, bikes and you. shinichiro loves both so much! however, he loves when he can mix both together! the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist and your head leaning against his back… he couldn’t ever think of something so perfect. perhaps, he’ll build a bike just for you and then you can race each other!

𐙚 despite your hesitance, sanzu is definitely the type to convince you to try substances with him. ‘it’s a bonding experience!’ he’d exclaim, a red punisher on the tip of his tongue, taunting you to take it. his blown out pupils and cute smile is all the convincing you need before you press your lips against his, slipping the pill from his mouth and into yours.

𐙚 on the rare occasion that you do accept an expensive gift that kokonoi gives you, he’s overwhelmed with happiness when he sees you wear it or use it during your daily life. he loves that he can spoil you!

𐙚 ran loves that you and rindou share a close friendship. aside from you, rindou is who he trusts the most and the fact that he can spend time with both of you at the same time… it’s just a dream come true!!

[kurokawaia]

RIGHT HERE 彡 Izana Kurokawa

WC; 1.3k+ | !MDNI! 18+ | TW/CW :: tenjiku! izana, x fem! reader, afab, reader is wearing a skirt, club setting, alcohol, suggestive, izana is quite handsy, pet names 'mahal' 'princess' 'baby', voyeurism?? hickies, readers first time in receiving a hickey, reader is timid and shy, possessiveness mention + more

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 :: it's your first time relationship with Izana, you know that he's relatively experienced, and he knows that you are not. Despite Izana being quite the dominant person, he's taking it slow with you. However, you should've kept your mouth shut and waited until the two of you were home.

m.list | tokyo revengers m.list

You've been here for a couple hours and Izana hasn't pressured you to do a single thing in the club. He knows that it's a dangerous place to be in when you're a woman, and being as sweet and pretty as you, he is not going to leave your side.

Izana doesn't mind staying seated with you on the red velvet longue because your all tucked up against him, his arm over your shoulder while he holds a glass of whiskey on the other. It's not hot or stuffy in here, in fact, it's quite chilly due to the air-con blasting on full, so Izana as donned his leather jacket around your shoulders.

The other members of Tenjiku where everywhere, on the dance floor, directly at the bar or flirting with the waitresses. The only people who weren't, were you and Izana who were watching from the VIP floor upstairs, along with Kakucho who was sitting on the couch horizontal from us to the side.

Kakucho wasn't really paying attention, he was quite engrossed on his phone. You wondered how he even got into the club, due to how he was fourteen going on fifteen, but Izana is quite influential and he follows Izana around everywhere.

However, you weren't paying attention to anything apart from Izana and the sensual music being blasted through the speakers. Your right leg was placed over Izana's left while his arm tightens around your shoulder and you sigh in contentment.

You know that Izana is possessive of you and his actions show that, he makes sure everybody knows who you belong to, so you'll always be safe. Although, there's been a thought running through your head the entire night, you'll nibble on your glosses bottom lip while fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.

Of course, Izana noticed the moment you started doing it, but he didn't want to pry you too much, simply just engaging in normal conversation with you. But, now? he really wants to know, you've been like this for hours and it's really riling him up.

He's motived how your cheeks flushed whenever you looked up directly up at him while speaking and he knows you have something you want to say, something dirty.

"What's with you, mahal? You've been acting strange all night," Izana hums after drinking the last of the whiskey in the crystal glass before he places it down on the table, his head moving to face yours.

You shake your head quickly, placing a hand on his exposed chest as your curl over into him and you instantly regret doing that because his toned upper body looks really good. Especially in a button down black shirt which was buttoned down quite a bit.

"It’s nothing! I’m fine," you protest with a gentle smile.

Izana lets a smirk cross his lips as his hand squeezes your waist every now and then, his purple iris' glint in satisfaction when he sees you beginning to unravel. "You're a terrible liar, mahal. Spill it."

You take a deep breath while gazing down, looking away from him. "It’s just... there’s something I want to ask, but it’s kind of... embarrassing."

"Oh? Embarrassing?" he teases, lips grazing just below your ear and your heart begins to pound in your chest. "You've really got me curious now."

"It’s not a big deal or anything! I just thought... maybe you could—" you stop mid-sentence, you bury your face into the side of his chest. "Never mind, it’s stupid."

Izana leans back into the soft velvet, and he cups your chin, amusement is evident on his face, specifically his lips, he is enjoying this. "Don't do that, baby. Tell me. Whatever it is, I promise I won't laugh."

But the way he said he wouldn't laugh made you believe otherwise. "I was wondering if... if you could... give me a hickey."

Izana blinks in shock for a few moments, you've never been this forward with him, it's always Izana guessing what you want and 10 times out of 10 he is correct. However, this was a shock to him.

"A hickey, huh?" he replies, his voice low as he whispers sensually in your ear. "So... that's what's been going through that pretty head of yours."

"I just thought it might be... I mean, I trust you, and... I’ve never had one before," you stumble over your words, trying to keep your composure but the way you are pressed so tightly against him and how hot is breath is to your skin... "But if you think it’s dumb, I—"

Izana cuts you off with a soft chuckle, his hand tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze. "You think I’d let you ask me something like that and call it dumb?" his voice still in that teasing tone. "If you want one, mahal, I’ll make sure you never forget it."

"R-Right here?" you ask in disbelief. "Maybe we should wait until we get-"

You cut yourself off when you see the look in Izana's eyes, primal and need. It makes sense, this will be the most he has ever done with you and he's going feral, he's going to mark you up, everyone will know who you belong to and that you're taken.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth while butterflies stir in your tummy and lower abdomen. He's sitting there studying every square inch of your body, purple eyes gazing over your neck, your flushed cheeks.

Izana's fingers lightly trace your jawline, sending shivers throughout your body. This did nothing to quench the arousal you felt pooling in your underwear.

"You're so nervous, mahal," he coos in a low voice, his thumb playing with your bottom lip. "You asked for this, didn't you?"

You nod, your breath hitching as he leans closer, his warm breath fanning against your neck. He chuckles softly, and the sound is smooth.

Izana's lips touch your below your ear trailing to the dip of your neck before slowly trailing back up and you knew he could feel your heart pounding beneath your flesh. And he could, he was resisting the urge to take you right there and then on the couch, but he couldn't, he's promised himself to take it slow, just for you.

"Relax," he hums. "I'll take care of you, mahal."

He presses his lips against the side of your neck, soft at first, leaving a trail of kisses as he searches for the perfect spot. When he finds it—you whimper—just below your ear—he smirks against your skin before pressing harder, his lips tugging gently as his teeth graze the surface.

The sensation makes you gasp, you breath so heavily in his ear, whimpers mingling in, your hands instinctively gripping the fabric of his shirt.

Izana’s grin widens, his voice dropping to a whisper. "That’s it. Just stay still for me, mahal."

He works slowly, almost lazily, his lips and tongue leaving warmth and a faint ache that makes your head spin. He pulls back briefly, his eyes flicking to the mark before he leans in kissing your neck around the red mark gently while squeezing your thigh.

Your cheeks are flushed red and your heart continues to beat fast, not slowing down. Izana cups your jaw, tilting your chin up so you meet his gaze.

"Perfect. Now you have something to show off that your mine" he murmurs before his eyes flutter shut and place a kiss to your lips, pulling away he smirks gently.

You can’t meet his gaze, your face burning, and he chuckles, pulling you closer so you’re tucked against his chest.

"You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?" Izana chuckles. A few moments pass before he begins to stroke your hair down and he leans his head down to your ear. "But don’t get shy now, mahal. I’m not done with you yet. I'm thinking about all the things I'm going to say to you, what I'm going to do to you when we get home."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | tokyo revengers m.list

that last sentence was a chase atlantic reference to their song triggered, if any of you cared to know...

[satoruhour]

Need sukuna in racer au 😩

REWARDS FROM A RACER

a/n: more of smut than him being a racer …. im not opposed to doing a ‘how they met’ ngl

wc: 2.1k

warnings: ooc sukuna, dom!sukuna, lewd declarations in public, he’s a little mean and calls you ‘whore’, ‘slut’, praise, degradation, pet names, car sex, semi-public sex, oral (m! receiving), light face-fucking, unprotected sex, riding, p → v penetration, clit stimulation, dash of daddy kink, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“doll, c’mon, we don’t have much time till the race starts.” 

“i know, ’kuna! give me a minute, ’m just tightening the screws on the crankshaft.” you already hear the joke from miles away, a soft chuckle comes after he mumbles “heh, shaft” and you resist the urge to roll your eyes while stifling a smile. it seems like sukuna had enough of waiting for you in the driver’s seat, so he meets you at the front of the car where the hood is popped.

if anyone told you sukuna was someone who would’ve made time for anyone else but himself, you would laugh in their face because when had ryomen “king of curses” sukuna ever thought about anyone but himself? he had all that he could have: a ’66 Ford GT40 (that he named king of curses — a tad bit goofy, he knows), girls on his arm, first place for every race he took part in. he was untouchable.

but during a night in the midst of a drag race he saw you outside a club, barely catching a glimpse of you shoving off a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. he wasn’t surprised to see kenjaku — another racer from another region and someone who he had an infamous rival with — laugh when he had come to your rescue, cut off when the king of curses landed a clean hit to the other’s face. sukuna made sure you were okay after the whole debacle, but he also fucked you silly to show you how a man should really be treating you.

it was the only race he ever lost.

“sometimes i forget how much shit you put up with when you’re with me,” sukuna grins, a sneaky hand moving from your waist to your ass to squeeze it, “fixing my engine like an obedient little girl.”

you simply turn to him with a bored expression, but you can’t deny the throb between your legs when he talks to you like that, “glad you’re self aware, ’kuna.”

“smart mouth you have there, hm?” sukuna pulls you even closer against his front and you can already feel the half-hard bulge there. he’s always hard before a race, too. that you know, because it’s an emerging characteristic of his that you’re not opposed to because sukuna ends up pounding into you in his driver’s seat once the race is finished. he just can’t help the adrenaline, can’t he?

“guess i’ll just have to ruin you,” sukuna cuts off your next reply with a messy kiss, swallowing the soft moans that leave your mouth at the temporary relief you’re getting from grinding on him, “later.”

you scoff, feigning annoyance, “yeah, yeah, i know. you never miss a race.”

sukuna just smiles, smacking your ass slyly and makes his way to the driver’s seat before you have time to gasp, simply raising an eyebrow (“don’t tell me you didn’t like that?”) when you slap his chest later in the passenger seat.

“oh god, he’s going to do that thing again right?” beside you are the other more prominent racers of tokyo, the famous four excluding sukuna. gojo is the one who asked the question, nudging you with a grin that’s got you groaning into your hands. slowly, you nod.

across from you is sukuna in his Ford GT40, shouting with his windows rolled down, “i’m gonna fuck you so good after i win this race, princess!” and while you’re turned on at the prospect, you’re also wincing at how everyone whoops and cheers because he does this in every race. it never gets old, though, just as the laughter of the other four floods your ears.

“do you really have to scream it every time?” you lean down to the window once the two cars are at the starting line, running a hand through his mildly sweaty locks. his perspiration is a little pink from the dye he’s used to top up the colour of his hair and you jokingly wipe your wet hands on his top.

sukuna grabs your wrist, pulling you gently to give you a noisy, sloppy kiss, his words whispered against your lips, “they have to know how you scream every night.”

you tsk with a laugh, hand reaching down to palm his dick that makes him grunt, “give ’em hell, baby.”

and he definitely makes the other wish he never was born. sukuna likes to play dirty, bumping into the rear of the other when he’s behind, sending a middle finger to the racer when he passes him, it’s part of why your boyfriend tends to prefer solitude because he’s not on everyone’s good side.

with skidding tires, sukuna finishes with a dashing grin, but he’s so focused on you that he doesn’t realise the crowd around him, some reaching forward to congratulate him, others wanting to touch his car. the racer barks out before anyone can violate his ride.

“oi, you fuckin’ idiots dare touch my car and i swear i’ll fuck up yours.”

beside you, geto mutters out a yeesh while gojo just giggles, patting your shoulder before you bid goodbye to the famous four. the crowd makes way for you, naturally, when you walk towards his car, because what kind of mental person willingly dates sukuna? they follow your figure as you make your way to him, swaying your hips for everyone to see, but you hardly care when all you can fixate on is his promise to you before every race starts.

and all he does that night is fulfil his promise, whisking you away from the cramped parking lot and into the late tokyo roads, whizzing past street lamps and cop cars and howling at the top of his voice. he loves it, he loves you and you see it every time he drives you home after a late night race and every time he noisily drives up to you when someone’s bothering you.

sukuna loves your body, too, because all you know later on is his cock in your mouth on a quiet, remote mountain used for drifting. with the winter season approaching, it was desolate, except for the way your head bobs up and down on his length, which hardens even more inside your mouth.

“that’s it, fuckkk yes.” sukuna groans, a hand clutching onto the leather of his seat while the other finds purchase in your hair, pulling on your locks till it hurts. with his hips moving erratically paired with the soreness in your jaw, it’s really the only thing you can concentrate on in an awkward position while hovering over the stick shift. “suck like the dirty cockslut you are.”

“’kuna, mmfhh—!” your hands rush to find his thighs on a particularly deep thrust, tip hitting the back of your throat and you look up at sukuna through teary lashes and breathe through your nose before he lets you off briefly. but your mouth is too warm just like how your pussy feels and sukuna forces your head onto him again.

sukuna groans when he lets you do your own thing, mouth taking half of him while your hands help you with the other, alternating between taking sucking the bottom of his cock and lapping at his tip, continuing to flutter your lashes at him.

“stick out your tongue f’me, doll,” he manages to choke out a moan, grabbing his cock to slap it on your tongue (it’s so heavy that you moan), making lewd sounds before he starts thrusting again, feeling every inch of your mouth with no time to warn you of his impending orgasm until the car is filled with his incessant groans and grunts, hips faltering at how your mouth just keeps sucking. “fuck— i’m cumming.” sukuna spills unexpectedly, shooting his cum deep down your throat and you moan around his shaft. he’s not laughing now, focused solely on getting every last bit of cum into your system as he tilts his head back in utmost pleasure. 

“take all of it,” his movements slow down, admiring how you look like you worship him with a lax mouth and pleading eyes, and he knows you do, but before that he’s ensuring you know that his worship of you overtakes yours by miles, pulling you impatiently to his seat before dragging your panties to the side. the other likes it when you wear skirts, easy access he says, licking his lips in anticipation when he sees how the fabric sticks to your cunt from how wet you were, leaving a string of arousal that snaps once it’s far enough.

“well? what’re you waiting for?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, a small chuckle leaving him when you mumble out a i’m getting to it! as you gather the slick leaking from your needy pussy. the feel of his mushroom tip against your clit is gratifying and you line him up before sinking down slowly. even after taking him multiple times, his size always makes your eyes widen and jaw drop at the stretch, incoherent whimpers leaving as he watches you take all nine inches of him.

“s’kuna, f-fuck…” you wrap your arms around his neck, suddenly shy at being so spread open for him to see, “s’big, you’re so big!” he hums, pressing little kisses down the side of your face while kneading your ass, plush thighs nestled around his pelvis so cutely that he appreciates your brief pause before you start riding him — because he can’t resist cumming when he sees you crying on top of him, trying his best to prolong the way you feel around him.

“i know i’m big, but you’re taking me so well, aren’t you, baby?” sukuna coos, holding your eyes that struggle to stay open as you bounce on his thick cock, ass meeting his hips in noisy pap’s as you flood his car with whining pleas of him filling you to the brim. there’s a white ring of pre-cum at the base of his shaft where your juices mix, dripping down the hilt and onto his balls, definitely soaking his leather seats. “just a whore for me to fuck stupid, yea?”

you nod frantically, babbling to no one as you throw your head back, pussy clenching when his lips meet your tits and he sucks hard on your nipples, flicking his tongue around your buds before moving to the other. “got so t-tight from me doing that,” sukuna laughs, wrapping a hand ’round your chin to force you to look at him. lips pursed, eyes blown wide from his cock in your cunt, hair sticking to your forehead, he swear he could cum deep in you right there and then.

“you love how i stretch you out?” he then yanks your head down to make you watch how your pelvis meets his, juices spurting in all directions by how wet you were. it truly was a sight, how his cock disappears into you and reappears, thighs burning from how fast you were bouncing on him.

“love it s’much, daddy,” you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you grab his free hand, bringing it to your neglected clit that’s been throbbing all night, “but i n-need you here, s’kuna…” and when he starts to rub circles into your puffy clit, you jolt at the feeling, screaming out obscenities at the sensations that overwhelm your body. he knows you’re getting tired and close, too.

so he shocks you by thrusting up, your body immediately halting to receive the way he rails into you and while your muscles are still cramping, it’s infinitely better than riding him. with his thrusts and his hand on your clit, you can already feel the coil in your stomach turning as your body slumps against him, “daddy!”’s spilling from your lips with mixed wanton moans. “that’s it, a good little slut who’s taking daddy’s cock, fuck—”

“so warm, and tight,” within seconds, his thrusts are irregular when you start to clench around him again, high-pitched whines filling his ears before you reach your high with a slack jaw and trembling thighs, body lined with sweat. but it’s the way your cum leaks down his length that gets sukuna releasing after you, the familiar pleas of wanting his cum deep in your cunt. he does just that, grunting into your neck when his hips thrust deeply before he releases his hot, thick semen into your pussy, gushing out because there’s just so much.

“love it when i breed my girl,” he mutters with a laugh breathlessly while you’re moaning softly at how he’s still spilling into you, overflowing cum leaking from your cunt even when he’s still inside. sukuna grins when your hips never really stop, still continuing to grind aimlessly.

“love my sweet girl who can’t think of anything but getting fucked stupid.”

[yuikomorii]

AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 5

// I finally found the time and inspiration for this chapter! I’m not sure why, but I had the most fun writing this one so far. I think Ayato will make you laugh—at least, I hope so! I’ve already started ch.6, and from how things are shaping up, let’s just say it’s going to be... interesting. >:3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Ayato’s monologue

No, no, no… this can’t be happening!

There’s absolutely no way this girl is the same person, right? Tokyo is a massive city, full of people. What are the chances I’d run into her again? Statistically speaking, as Reiji would say, I should be in the clear!

And yet… the height, the voice— they’re similar. Way too similar. No, scratch that. It’s not just those things. It’s the mannerism too!

Ugh, this is bad. Really bad. If she recognizes me, I’m not just in trouble—I’m done for.

I can already imagine her running back to her friends, completely out of breath, being like:

"You girls will NOT believe what just happened. So, you know Ayato from SAKAMAKIS? Yeah, THE Ayato? Well, guess where I met him? At a private strip club! And he wasn’t even having a good time! The guy looked like he was about to pass out from drinking too much! I swear, I thought I was gonna have to call an ambulance. Or an exorcist. Maybe both. Hahaha!”

…And that’s how I’d end up on the news, with my career pretty much over.

Yui: Uuh… Are you alright? You’ve been spacing out a bit. Is the cut hurting you that bad?

Ayato: …!

( Okay, stay calm. I can’t let this show on my face and let her see how much this is stressing me out. )

( If I act like everything’s normal, she won’t remember me from that night. Yeah… she definitely won’t make that connection. )

Ah, yeah, no biggie. I’m just a little tired. Y’know, idols have quite messed up schedules, so it’s normal to get less than five hours of sleep.

Yui: Eh? Less than five hours? That’s…

I’m sorry to hear that. It must definitely be tough…

Ayato: I mean, sure, it sounds a bit insane, but it’s just part of the job. No worries~.

( Good, we’re having a normal conversation. Nothing’s too suspicious. )

Yui: If it helps, in case we win, you’ll have the chance to relax in the onsen!

Ayato: Heh, right!

( Now that she brought it up, spending a bit of time at an onsen sounds pretty good. A long, hot soak to just melt away the stress... mhm, that’s exactly what I need after this. )

Yui: I suppose Ayato-san doesn’t usually have time for that, no?

Ayato: Hmm… more or less. When we’re promoting in Japan, we have some hours off, so we can basically do whatever we want.

Yui: Is that so? But how do you deal with your fans then? I’m sure they would always be in your face wherever you go because they love you.

Ayato: That’s because I—

( Danger alert! If I say I go out in disguise, she might put two and two together! )

—I honestly don’t mind that. After all… I go with bodyguards! Yeah. Big, scary guys. You know, keeps the crowd at bay.

Yui: Ah, makes sense. I thought you sometimes spend time with fans too.

Ayato: ( Hah? Spend time with fans? What kind of fantasy land is she living in? Does she seriously think idols just go around hanging out with random fans like it’s some slice-of-life anime? )

( Is she really that dumb... or does she just know absolutely nothing about how being an idol actually works? )

Well… let’s just say that kind of thing isn’t exactly in the job description.

Yui: I see… However, would Ayato-san spend time with them if allowed?

Ayato: ( Tch… What’s up with this loaded question!?What am I even supposed to say— “Sure, let’s go grab boba tea sometime”? )

( This girl’s really pushing it... or maybe she’s just too lost in her own world. )

Ayato: Hmph, depends on the fan. If they’re not screaming in my face or trying to steal a lock of my hair so as to sell it for thousands later, maybe I’d consider it.

( Anyway, the hell’s this supposed to be? An interview? )

( Just focus on cooking, girl. Last time I checked, I wasn’t here for a therapy session. )

You ask a lot of questions, y’know that? Shouldn’t you be paying more attention to that pot over there before it explodes?

Yui: …! S-Sorry, I’ll fix it right now!

Ayato: ( Haa… this is gonna be a long day. )

Yui: Phew, luckily everything’s fine. Usually cooking is my strong point, but today I was careless… I apologize once again…

Ayato: Just don’t poison me and we’re good.

( Though honestly, if this keeps up, I might start envying whatever Subaru’s doing, even if it’s just sulking alone in a corner, while a girl cooks his part. )

Yui: Thank you for your understanding. You’re surprisingly really kind.

Ayato: Heh, “surprisingly”? What’s that supposed to mean? Do I look like some grumpy, unapproachable guy to you or what?

Yui: N-Not at all! It’s just that… when I think of idols, I imagine really hard-working people. I merely thought you’d all be very stressed out and not have much patience to deal with others.

Ayato: Well, you’re not totally wrong.

( She’s not as clueless as I thought. We are indeed overworked half the time and running on caffeine and pure ego the rest. )

Yeah, it’s not exactly a walk in the park. But hey, some of us still manage to be charming.

( Like me. Obviously. )

Yui: ( The truth is, based on my first impression, I thought he was cold. Everyone else kept saying he’s friendly off-stage, though. )

( But now… after he apologized and considering how our conversation’s been going, I really do believe he’s a good person too. )

I think that’s one of the reasons why fans love Ayato-san so much.

Ayato: Because I’m charming…?

Yui: Not only that. But despite your visuals and high status, you still don’t let fame get to your head. You’re able to converse with people casually, as if we were on the same level as you.

Ayato: …Huh.

( Okay, now she’s making me sound like some kind of saint. But, I guess it’s just better to give her a cheesy idol-like reply. )

Ayato: I mean, gotta stay grounded, right? Fans are the reason I even have the spotlight in the first place.

Yui: That’s true, but I also think it’s because of your talent.

Ayato: ( Talent, hm? She must’ve actually paid attention to the MVs and stages to say that. If she hadn’t, she’d most likely be commenting on my looks like most people do. )

Of course~!

( However, I admit that sometimes it’s nice to hear someone notice that instead of what’s on the surface. )

Yui: ( After all, Ayato-san is exactly how Hana-san described him. )

( Wait—! Hana-san! The autograph! How could I almost forget about that!? )

Yui: So… since the food’s almost ready, do you mind if I ask you something? Just a small favor.

Ayato: ( You‘ve been asking me countless things anyway, so it wouldn’t make any difference. )

Fine, go ahead.

( She’s looking at me with puppy eyes… this better not be something like “can you say hi to my hamster” or whatever girls ask on fan calls these days. )

Yui: Could you please sign this napkin?

— hands it to him —

I know a piece of paper would’ve made way more sense, but I just remembered that a co-worker of mine, who really admires you, couldn’t be here today…

That’s why, I was wondering if you’d be willing to give her an autograph? Her name is Hana.

Ayato: ( Well, it’s definitely not the weirdest thing I’ve signed. At least it’s not a bra this time. )

Alright. Can’t have your friend crying at work over a missed chance to meet the Great Ayato, right~?

— signs it —

Here you go.

Yui: Woah, thank you, Ayato-san! Thank you so much!

Ayato: Heh, no need to get all dramatic. It’s just a napkin.

Make sure she knows it’s a one-of-a-kind, limited edition autograph, okay? I don’t usually sign tableware.

— Yui giggles —

Ayato: Now… is the takoyaki done too?

Yui: Yup! That one was easy to make after—

Ayato: Gimme! Gimme!

Yui: Eh?

( His eyes just lit up like a kid at a festival…! Does he love takoyaki that much?)

Ayato: What? Don’t just stare! Hurry up and let me give it a taste check!

Yui: Fufu, sure thing.

— places the plate in front of him —

I think they came out a bit crunchy instead of the usual soft texture, so if they aren’t yummy, I can try to—

Ayato: Shh! No more talking. Let me enjoy this moment.

— starts eating —

…!

Yui: ( He looks… shocked? Did I really mess up that badly?)

— Ayato stops chewing —

Ayato: Okay, these… these are actually good. Like, dangerously good!

( Crunchy or not, this flavor’s legit. Did she secretly get trained by some takoyaki master in Osaka or what!? )

Seriously, have you never thought of opening your own takoyaki stand? I’d be your number one customer, no question!

— grabs another one with zero hesitation —

But no raising the price just ‘cause I’m famous, got it?

Yui: ( Wah—! He’s patting my head…! )

( Getting praised like this… it’s making my heart beat so fast for some reason. )

I-I’m glad you like them, Ayato-san! But, uhm… you shouldn’t eat them all. They’re for the contest, remember?

Ayato: Just one more~

Yui: ( Fufu, he’s acting like a child again... )

( Even got crumbs around his mouth like one, but he doesn’t seem to notice. )

— gets closer and starts wiping the crumbs off his mouth gently —

Ayato: …?

( What the hell is she doing? )

Oi, what’s up? Are you cleaning me up like some kind of child?

Yui: ( Oh no! I think he’s mad! )

S-Sorry!

— tries to move away quickly —

Ayato: Haa…

— grabs her arm and pulls her back —

I didn’t say it bothered me, did I?

Go on. If you're going to do it, you might as well finish.

Yui: ( He doesn’t mind it at all…? To think that an idol such as himself would let an ordinary person touch him like that… )

( But now that I’m so close… I can see how small his truly face is. It’s almost like it could fit right in my hand, even if he’s a boy… )

— suddenly touches his cheek—

Ayato: ( I don’t feel any crumbs there though. )

Yui: ( His skin is so smooth... way softer than I imagined. His entire face is so delicate too, almost unreal. )

Ayato: Are you done checking me out now? Or should I start charging you for the VIP experience, since you’re getting a bit too personal with me?

— chuckles —

Yui: ( W-Wait! What on earth am I doing!? )

I-I wasn’t checking you out! I was just... trying to clean your cheek! That’s all!

— pulls her hand away —

I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to cross your boundaries!

Ayato: Relax, relax. It’s not like you’re the first one to stare. But… you’re still the first one to get this close without permission~

Yui: ( Uhh... this is so embarrassing! What even got into me!? )

( To make matters worse, there’s something about his words that’s making my heart race even faster than before...! )

( I wonder if he can hear it, the way it’s pounding... )

Ayato: You know...—

*Knock Knock*

Chief: Excuse me, but we’ve got a problem!

[deadghosy]

THIS DUO AS READERS X HAZBIN HOTEL GANG

prompt: two gen z twins fall into the grasp of hell and the hotel crew as they cause such an entertaining impression.

These two cause so much trouble in one go. Like literally you guys plopped into hell just causing chaos as the pink twin started to set hospitals and buildings on fire as the green twin was just scamming sinners😭.

The twins died looking like their favorite colors, green and pink as the smart one was green and the slight dumb one was wearing pink. The twins even have matching bracelets that have the other’s color. They also died as Gen z’s.

Oddly enough, the pink twin can go into the wrath and pride ring as the green twin and can stay in the pride ring and go into the envy ring.

You two can’t even BE LEFT ALONE HOLY SHIT- LITERALLY CHARLIE HAD YOU TAKE CHARGE IN THE HOTEL ONLY FOR THE BAR TO BE BURNT DOWN AND A HOLE IN THE WALL 😭😭

Alastor found the green twin amusing as they are very quick and smart. Hell they were the one to figure out that Alastor was in a leash when they first met him. So alastor made it his goal to try to trap the green! reader. He also found the pink one amusing, but they were just a nuisance at times 

Pink reader and Angel dust is such a funny duo as he seems to look after you since you aren’t good at taking care of your own self which is sad but at least someone cares for you.

“You’re not ascending to godhood. You’re just dehydrated….” “OUT OF MY WAY GAYBOY!” *few minutes later* the pink twin was breathing heavy on the floor. “Hopital..”

I feel like Lucifer would definitely try to adopt the twins as he find them adorable. Like Lucifer had most definitely made a pink and green duck with a magnet that makes the two ducks hold feathers.😭💗

Niffy love the twins equally as they like to hang around with the hotel maid as she shows them how to clean.

Sir Pentious find you two amazing as literally green! Reader overthinks a lot but pink! Reader doesn’t think and just acts head on. So he gets green! Reader to help with his building as pink! Reader just decorates.

The egg boiz love hanging out with the twins as they just walk around and cause havoc inside the hotel and to residents.

Headcannon on pink! Reader knowing how to use and gun and accidentally shooting themselves only to regenerate themselves as everyone panics except their own twin.

I imagine Cherri trying to bring the twins to a club and the green one is like “if you’re bring us, prepare for shit to go down.” And Cherri didn’t believe it until the club is ablaze as pink! Reader just smiled with their sharp teeth showing with their twin beside them having a tired face like. “I told you so.” Cherri’s face was so traumatized at how you did it.

Vaggie most definitely has some rules for you, even a bed time for pink as they are so adhd core 💀 so she need to drain their energy before they set anyone on fire.

It was a dark hellish night as the green twin walked into their shared room for the big dinner. “Hey just double checking, you cleared your calendar for dinner tomorrow night with the staff right? I’m dying to go to that new place like I can’t-” the green twin stops seeing their own twin spacing out. “Oh sorry, dinner, tomorrow, me.” “YAYYY” the pink reader starts to clap excitedly

Husk hates pink! Reader as they are so damn energetic and have no filter. Yeah husk has no filter as well, but pink! Reader has the worst filter ever to the point husk wants to duct tape their mouth.

STOP IMAGINE PINK! READER DRIVING LIKE SPONGEBOB AS GREEN! READER IS READING OFF A MAP SO CALMLY😭😭

“IM DRIVIN THIS HOOEEE” pink yells as green just calmly looks up and point to an exit turn as pink swerves the car as if this shit was Tokyo drift.

The combat the twins is so strange but destructive, like literally green’s combat is martial arts and poison as pink is street fighting but also just weapons like guns and bombs.

The Vee’s fucking hate the twins with a passion as those two are just bad luck for them.

lol I can see pink just bursting into the Vee’s tower on accident as green just waves at the three overlords.

Velvette finds the twins worthy of being models for her, but the thing is when she finally got the twins to meet her. They both accidentally ruined her studio as there was fire on the floor and curtains. HELL EVEN THE FIRE IS ON FIRE?! HOW TF-

Vox had found green amusing at how smart you are with calculations. He thought he could trick you with his hypnotizing power, but nah you poked that bitch’s eyes. He yelled falling to the floor just screaming at green being a bitch and a whole lot of degrading words. 

Valentino likes pink..for some reason . It’s because you are pink like Angel dust… but like then his admiration fell so quick when you glitter bombed his whole porn studio.

Pink! Reader was arguing with Vox as green! Reader has a needle ready to drain blood from the tv overlord. “Fuck you, YOU BITCH” “ya mama.” “YA MAMA, with cha bald headed ass.” “Ahh you mad.”

Yeah pink has a restraining order from the Vee’s as green just gets a warning 😭

Pink is a pyro maniac as green is a mad scientist type shit. 🦆

Yeah so the twins lore is that they were in a bad household with a mom who was a stay at home mom and an alcoholic dad that cheats. The parents were very verbal and physically abusive. So the twins only had their self.

I can imagine that green! reader had told pink! Reader a joke and was going to tell another resident only for the pink twin to fuck it up cause they found it so funny.

“Did you know, that 1981 was the year that-” “AAAAaaaAAAAaaAA-”

Tbh green is the reason why Alastor is sometimes scared to talk to them about his plans. Like green would stare at Alastor and Alastor would just sped walk away. 😭😭

The twins troupe is also “calm friend x chaotic friend” cause of course it fits them but really green is also a psycho in a making

Green was the type of kid to burn ants and dissect frogs and animals. As pink also burnt ants but thrown rocks at houses and cars. But they most definitely burnt old houses and thrown hot honey buns at people 😭

“I FEEEL LIKE A FEM QUEEN! I FEEL LIKE FEM QUEEN! I FEEL SO CUNTY!” Is how pink! Reader felt when Angel dust did their makeup as they watched RuPaul‘s drag race series.

Imagine the sibling fights just being so chaotic as they literally have to wear a “get along” shirt lmao 😭

The two siblings literally was playing rock paper scissors when all of a sudden a bomb was heard off in the distance making green immediately looks at pink who just nervously laughs and runs off.

There was a time when pink awakened their hell powers on a Thursday as green was so confused. “Pinkie, how are you doing that?” The green reader says pushing their glasses to their face seeing their twin floating. “I-I-I- I don’t know broccoli, I’m scared.” “Well come down.” “I can’t. I-I-I- I can’t. Get help.” The pink twin says to the green twin as they are floating to the ceiling.

Yeah Lucifer had to take them down as he put a spell on pink! Reader for it to never happen again.

Below the cut I show I imagine then personally💗

Their personalities:

Green! Reader- calm, secretly crazy inside, smart, protective, over thinking, sometimes snappy, just wants to be loved.

Pink! Reader- cunty😘, crazy, starve touched, hyperactive, not focused much, under thinking, destructive.

Their appearance:

Green! Reader- looks like a teen and an adult. Has straight hair with glasses. Possibly have a mole by their cheek or lip but definitely has freckles. They are skinny but curvy as they don’t gain weight much.

Pink! Reader- looks like a young adult and a teen at the same time. Has curly hair with glasses but eye sight isn’t as bad. Has a mole by their eye and has freckled skin. They are slight chubby but more on the thicc side with the right thickness in their body.

Their specific pronouns:

Green! Reader- any, but people usually call them a he/him & she/her

Pink! Reader- she/they and them/her.

[thesoftuglywrites]

brat (affectionately)

Here is my submittal for @unintentionalseductress's Valentine's Day Blind Date Event!

Written for the lovely @flaneur001 (I hope you enjoy it and my selection for your blind date)

(This is my first time participating in this kind of event, as well as my first time ever writing for our beloved King of Curses so I hope I did the event and the character justice lol)

Disclaimer: No content warnings that I can truly think of to label them here. Fem!Reader/Modern!Sukuna/human!Sukuna/no curses au/Sukuna being a massive tsundere, is emotionally constipated and doesn't know how to show affection for the people that he loves and cares about... but he tries/he's got the tattoos, but not the facial ones.

WC: 8.6 K

Enjoy!

“I can’t believe that you talked me into this,” you grumbled, pulling your winter coat closer to your body as you closely followed behind Shoko, batting away a puff of cigarette smoke that she had exhaled out and that you had accidentally walked into. “I don’t need to go on a blind date right now, I should be studying for final exams.”

The cold winter air bit at your exposed skin the longer you followed Shoko to the supposed meetup spot that she had preselected for you and your blind date. Why she decided to do this for you, nay, to you, was something that was way beyond your comprehension at the current moment. When she initially had told you that you were going to be going on a blind date tonight, you had laughed in her face, thinking that she was joking; you were sorely mistaken when she didn’t laugh and instead grabbed your jacket and your wallet and threw them at you, clearly indicating to you that she wasn’t joking and was, in fact, serious about this. 

Shoko let out a snort, and shot you a look over her shoulder with a lit cigarette clamped  in between her teeth as the two of you trekked through the labyrinth that were the back alleyways of metropolitan Tokyo. She plucked the cigarette out of her mouth, and swung her body around to face you, but continued to walk backwards so she wouldn’t break her pace. “Girl, the first time I met you, you had your nose in a book and were a month ahead on assignments that your professors had already put out. If anything, you already have the material written on the inside of your eyelids and inscribed into the sulci of your brain. You’ll be fine taking one night off. Besides, you need this.” She twirled back around, facing forward once again. 

You were a third year university student who had been lucky enough to spend your autumn and spring semesters in Japan at the University of Tokyo as an exchange student. You had done everything in your power to prepare yourself for your travels by studying up on the language, both the verbal and written aspects, the culture, etiquette, the inner workings of the university that you would be attending, and among various other things that were at your disposal before you would embark on your travels.

Shoko Ieiri was your dorm mate. She was the first person that you actually, truly got to meet, and really the first person that took you under her wing. The two of you did your best to communicate, given the fact that neither you nor Shoko really was fluent in each other’s languages. With time, however, you eventually found even footing when it came to communication between the two of you. Shoko was the one who had taken you around the city, introducing you to many eateries, bakeries, and cafes that she would visit, along with miniscule spots that she would spend what little precious free time that she had.

She had also been the one to introduce you to her circle of friends, as she had quickly noticed that you had a tendency to stay in your shared dorm. You didn’t join any clubs, you didn’t go to any campus parties or mixers, citing the main reason being that you simply wanted to focus on your studies so you wouldn’t flunk out of the classes in a university that you had fought tooth and nail to get assigned to. To be fair, it wasn’t a total lie.

While you were apprehensive at first, mainly having anxiety about meeting a group of people that you had no idea existed while they already seemed to have a great deal of information about you, you agreed to meet them nonetheless, over dinner and drinks. Those worries were immediately quashed the second that Satoru Gojo threw his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close into his side, as if you were lifelong friends instead of strangers that had just met seconds prior. Suguru Geto, who side-eyed Satoru with how touchy he was being with you, kept the exchange flowing by asking you questions about you, your life, your country, if you were taking a liking to Japan, etc. Kento Nanami, quietly listened to what you had to say, and continuously poured your sake for you throughout the event, granted he was a few years older than you and he constantly shot down your efforts to try and pour his drink for him; even though he didn’t take much of an active participation in the conversations that were happening around you two, the silence between you two wasn’t uncomfortable–it was even welcomed. 

The only person that you truly had an issue with connecting with, was Sukuna Ryomen. 

He didn’t say much of anything to you with the exception of a curt nod in your direction when you first made introductions to each other. He sat at the end of the table, slamming beer after beer after beer, but never once did he partake in the group dialogue. He sat quietly, watching everything unfold around him. 

There were two things that you remembered from that whole meetup. The first being the fact that his eyes never left you. If you weren’t distracted by something or someone else, you became acutely aware of it–so much so, that it almost made you extremely self conscious; the way that he was staring at you made it seem like he was analyzing every move. The second thing, was when you had gone to pay for your dinner and drinks, the server that had been attending to your table had told you that your tab had already been taken care of; when you asked who it had been for further clarification, they responded: “The gentlemen with the pink hair requested that anything you ordered be applied to his bill, ma’am.” 

You couldn’t even thank him or pay him back for it because he had taken off much earlier before everyone else was finished with their food and drinks. When you next saw him again after that, you tried to bring up the topic of paying him back, and he immediately wouldn’t hear the rest of what you had to say. 

“I wanted to pay for your meal,” he said to you. “You don’t need to worry about paying me back.”

Since then, you two really haven’t interacted. He hadn’t made any effort to get to know you better or talk to you one on one whenever there was a group hangout, simply choosing to ignore your existence and engage with the others; and you were perfectly content with that. 

Fast forward to the present moment, you and Shoko rounded the corner around a little dumpling and takoyaki stand that was operated by an elderly couple, bringing you two back out to the main street, and you could make out four figures standing near a streetlight in the distance. The closer the two of you got, you could make them out to be Satoru, Suguru, Kento, and Sukuna.

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” you heard Sukuna growl the closer you got to them. “This is a complete waste of time and I don’t need to be doing this!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Kuna-Tuna!” Satoru chided, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “You’ll have a great time with your date.”

“Okay, how many times have I told you to stop calling me that?” Sukuna straightened up, almost nearly squaring up with white-haired, blue-eyed man that was clearly past the point of annoying him.

Satoru being… well, Satoru, didn’t pay any mind to the hot headed man that was growing increasingly agitated in front of him, and kept up with his nonchalant, playful attitude. “Oh… since the second year of secondary school? Frankly, I don’t know why you keep trying to get me to stop calling you that when it’s pretty clear I’m not going to,” Satoru chortled.

“Hey, lover boy,” Suguru cut in, before Sukuna could respond–or rip Satoru’s head off, either one could work–and flicked his chin towards the direction that you and Shoko were approaching from. “I would think real carefully about your next move. You wouldn’t wanna scare off you dare, now, would ya?” 

Wait.

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, what?

Sukuna was your date?

Where there was once annoyance and irritation, it was quickly replaced with anxiety and apprehension; you could feel your heartbeat quicken, your mouth went dry, and your palms go clammy the closer and closer you got to the others. It wasn’t like you were afraid of him… but you certainly weren’t close with him to begin with; he was just intimidating. He towered over you, easily standing at six feet and five inches and was built like an ox. He swore like a sailor that had just gotten back into port, and did everything in his power to make himself appear larger than he actually was and take up as much space as he possibly could. Sukuna acted without a care in the world, and he certainly cared less what others thought of him.

For lack of a better word, Sukuna Ryomen was loud, and crude, and brash; everything and everyone around him could either tolerate him for who he was and what he stood for, or they could fuck right on off. In a way, you did have some sort of respect for him, though. To be your own individualistic person in a conservative, collectivist society like Japan certainly couldn’t have been easy. 

“Ah, there you two are!” Satoru called out, greeting both you and Shoko as you approached them. “We were wondering how long it was gonna take you guys to get here.”

You kept your gaze downward as you could feel the heat flush your cheeks, feeling more self conscious than ever before, rivaling the time that you were about to meet your current friend group. From your peripheral vision, you could see Sukuna maintain his gaze on you. 

“Hope you guys weren’t waiting too long.” Shoko plucked the cigarette from in between her teeth, exhaling out another puff of smoke that you accidentally walked into again, causing you to unintentionally breathe in the toxins. You were too anxious to really pay attention to it, too lost in thought as you dreaded the next several hours that were to come.

“No, thankfully not,” Kento responded, reaching up to push his hair back into the neat side part that he always sported. “We would have been here a bit sooner had someone–” Kento threw a menacing glare in Sukuna’s direction, causing Sukuna to scowl back in return – “not put up such a big fight to get him here in the first place.”

Shoko paused, the cogs in her head slowly turning as she realized that Kento, Satoru, and Suguru all had disheveled appearances the more that she inspected them. “Did… did it take the three of you guys to get him here?”

“Yep,” they all simultaneously answered all at once.

“We nearly had to pick him up and carry him to get him here,” Suguru grumbled under his breath as he reached up to rub at the back of his head, his fingers threading through his hair. “Nearly pulled a chunk of my hair out, too…”

Oh. Great, you thought to yourself. 

He clearly didn’t want to be here, just as much as you didn’t want to be here, either. 

You turned to Shoko, keeping your voice low. “Shoko, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean… does it just have to be the two of us?” 

Shoko detected the hesitancy in your voice and pulled you off to the side, a bit further away from the rest of the guys so that you could speak a bit more inconspicuously. “Are you nervous?” she whispered, her eyebrows furrowing as her eyes looked at you with concern.

“A bit. I just, I don’t know, I don’t know Sukuna very well and I don’t think he likes me all that much…” Your voice trailed off as you voiced your worries. 

Shoko fought off a snort. “You don’t know the half of it when it comes to Sukuna, Y/N. You really don’t.”

“Shoko,” you quietly moaned, borderlining on a whine. 

“Listen, if you’re really all that nervous, we honestly don’t have to go through with this. Satoru, Suguru, and I thought it would be good for the two of you to hang out with each other one on one,” she explained. “Plus, Sukuna likes you a little bit more than he lets on. I promise that he does. He’s just… not very good at showing it.”

You let out a dismayed sigh, not wanting the actions of the other boys to go in vain, seeing as how it took some effort on their part to get Sukuna here tonight. “No, I’ll do it. Just–just keep your phone on standby in case things start to go south.”

“Of course.”

Satoru was the first to break the tension. “Welp!” He clapped his hands together once to get everyone’s attention on him. “Sukuna, we leave our beloved Y/N in your care. Take her to a night out on the town, get dinner, drinks, maybe visit that new arcade that just opened up in downtown Harajuku?” he said, slowly backing up as Shoko, Suguru, and Kento followed suit, leaving you and Sukuna by yourselves. “Have fun, you two!” 

They rounded a corner, officially leaving you and Sukuna together.

By yourselves.

Alone.

Sukuna turned to you, his eyes looking you up and down as he took in your appearance. “You look nice,” he complimented, unsure of how to start the conversation between you two. He could, however, sense your unease. “Better than I do, actually.” 

Though he wasn’t in earshot of the conversation that happened between you and Shoko, he had a pretty good idea of what it was about.

“Thank you,” you softly chuckled. You kept your gaze down, looking at his feet rather than his face. “Though, I wish I wasn’t wearing my glasses.”

His head cocked to the side slightly, genuine confusion coloring his features. “What? Why?” 

“I just prefer to wear my contacts, really. I haven’t been to visit the optometrist here and I’ve run out of my yearly supply, unfortunately. I’ll probably have to do that over winter break once exams are over.” 

Sukuna let out a low hum, digesting your words. 

You raised your eyes to meet his, looking at him quizzically. “What is it?” 

“Well, firstly: thank you for finally looking at me.” He chuckled, a soft smile forming on his face. A rarity if you ever saw. “And secondly: I think I prefer you with glasses. You look rather cute, if I do say so myself.” 

A flash of heat burned your cheeks at his comment, before you tried to save yourself a night of needless agony. “You know, Sukuna, you really don’t have to humor me if you don’t want to be here,” you said, not beating around the bush anymore. “We can just go our separate ways and if the others ask about it, we can-”

“Who says that I don’t want to be here?” he interrupted, his eyebrow raised. 

You deadpanned. “Gee, I don’t know, maybe the fact that it took three grown men to get you here in the first place, and also taking into consideration that you put up such a fight, too.”

He threw his head back as a loud, boisterous laugh rang from his diaphragm. “That was before I knew that it was you, brat.” 

“Brat? Seriously?” 

He chuckled, and walked past you, waving a hand over to indicate that he wanted you to follow him. “Affectionately, of course. Now, c’mon. There’s a new ramen spot that just opened up not too far from where we are now and I’ve been dying to try it out.”

You looked as he started to stalk off in the direction where the ramen bar is, watching his back retreat the further and further that he gets away from you. Against your better judgment, and the annoyance that was starting to swirl in your chest at the mention of being called a ‘brat’, you follow him. 

The train to downtown Tokyo is packed full with the evening rush of salarymen and women that are just getting off of work, to the point where it felt like it was a tin of sardines rather than a train car. Sukuna, using the full scale of his body and height to his advantage, blocked you into a section of the car where your back was up against the side of the car, but maintained his distance in order to prevent others from encroaching on your personal space. This was the most up close and personal that you’ve ever been with him, and with careful eyes, you observed all of the details that your date had to offer you. From the hem of his shirt, you could somewhat make out the darkened lines of black ink that resembled tattoos that just barely peaked out, where it wasn’t obscured by his jacket. He had a bit of peach fuzz on his chin, indicating that he maybe had just shaved. His hair, though slightly spiky, was smoothed back into a neat fashion, in some sort of measure–maybe that was Suguru or Satoru’s doing, who knows. Your eyes fell to his ears, noting that he had small black gauges in his earlobes. Were they new or had you just never noticed them before?

“What is it?”

His question brings you out of your train of thought and you realized that his eyes were on your face, looking at you with a curious expression.

“I’m sorry–what?” Your words tumbled out as they left your mouth.

“You’re staring at me. What is it, brat?”

You glanced away, not paying attention to the fact that he called you a brat again. “I–it’s nothing. I swear.” 

His eyebrow cocked at that, not believing what you were saying for a single second. He leaned down to meet your eye level, putting his face closer to yours than what you deemed necessary. “Are you sure about that?”

You could feel the heat flush your cheeks again as you backed further into the plastic and metal side of the train car, trying to create distance. “Y-yes, I’m sure!” 

He smirked at how flustered you were becoming, before silently shrugging his shoulders and closing his eyes, a silent way of saying: “Alright, then.” He straightened back up to his full height, but the smirk on his face remained.

When the train finally reached the desired stop, Sukuna had placed you in front of him, enclosing his jacket around you so that you were quite literally tucked against his chest. Once again, he used his height and size to his advantage, and began to walk the both of you forward through the crowd of passengers. Once out of the train car, he let you out of his jacket and continued to lead the way, but maintained a close enough proximity to you where your hands were nearly touching.

It was a ten minute walk from the train station to the ramen bar that Sukuna was so highly eager about. In the near distance, you could see the red paper lanterns decorate the outside with fairy lights strewn across the top of the entrance, and kanji characters that you most certainly weren’t going to be able to decipher. The hostess greeted you two with a bow and immediately sat both you and Sukuna in a booth that was public enough to put you close to the kitchens where you could see the chefs cook and create the meals that other patrons ordered, but private enough to where you could have your own conversations without the fear of others eavesdropping in on them, and the lighting dim enough to where no one else could truly see you unless they were actually stood at the edge of your table.

“So? What do you think?” Sukuna asked, the smug smirk having really never left his face since the departure from the train car.

“Of the restaurant? It’s nice. It seems fancy, all things considered,” you murmured, as you took out your phone to scan the QR code that pulled up the menu, only to be sorely disappointed to see that there were no English translations available for the food descriptions, and that it was all in katakana. “God dammit,” you muttered under your breath. 

Sukuna noticed your distress. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not very good at reading the Japanese alphabet,” you muttered. “And there’s no English translations available on this menu for me to figure out what I want.” 

“Let me help you out, then.” He waved an open palm towards you so he could look at the menu with you. 

You turned your phone to Sukuna, sharing the screen between you and him. His eyes scan the options that are listed. “What kind of ramen do you like? Are you a miso girl? Seafood girl? Cold noodle broth? Or do you like spicy ramen?” His eyes glanced at you as he listed your options. 

“Um… spicy ramen is fine.” 

“You want spicy ramen? You tryin’ to be adventurous today?” 

“What do you mean? I like spicy food,” you protested.

“You like spicy food, but you can’t tolerate it. And besides, this is the kind of ramen spot  where when they say a particular dish is spicy, they actually mean it.”

You sat up a bit higher in your seat, slightly offended by his observation. “How do you know what I can and can’t tolerate?”

Sukuna snorted. “Did you forget that I was there when Satoru dared you to eat the hottest spice level at that Korean fried chicken place we all went to once? You were practically dying while Kento, Shoko, and I practically had to raid that convenience store that was next door to get you milk products and ice cream to help alleviate your pain.”

“Maybe I’m trying to expand my palate and build up on my spice tolerance,” you rebuked, your eyes glancing off to the side as subtle embarrassment made its way to the forefront of your mind as you reminisced on that moment.

He leaned forward, his brown eyes intensely focused on your face. Even if you weren’t directly looking at him, you most certainly could feel it. “You really want to take this night as an opportunity to do that?”

“... I’ll have miso ramen…” 

“Good girl.” 

At the mention of being called ‘good girl’, the heat returned to your cheeks tenfold and the flusterment hit you like a freight train all over again. 

The server approached your table to get your orders input into the kitchen. Sukuna ordered for both you and him, speaking in a fast paced dialect that you couldn’t keep up with. You could make out some words, but the rest of it all jumbled together. The server bowed, and swiftly turned away and returned to the back of the kitchen. 

“I got you water to drink, if that’s alright with you?” he asked, as he leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“That’s fine.”

A small silence settled between the two of you before you decided to bite the bullet and start asking your date some questions. 

You started off small. “You have tattoos… right?” 

Another smirk formed and he nodded his head once. “I do, in fact, yes.” 

“May I ask what they are?”

He reached down and pulled up the sleeves of his jacket to reveal two black rings around both of his wrists. “You may or may not have seen these before. I know that I typically wear long sleeves around you whenever we’re out and about doing something with the rest of the group,” he mused. “Can’t fuckin’ stand the shit that this hellscape society thinks that I’m goddamn yakuza just because I have tattoos.” He pulled his sleeves down again and then reached up to pull at the collar of his shirt to reveal two thickened lines that were bilaterally placed on both sides of his shoulders. “And then these two lines start at my pectorals and then go all the way up past my shoulders and down my back.” He released his shirt and let his hands rest on the table, mere inches from yours. “I’ve got more I could show you, but then I would have to undress myself in order to do that,” he chuckled. 

A giggle escaped you. “Do they have any significant meaning or are they just because they look cool?”

He shook his head. “In a way, yeah. I mean, they are supposed to represent the brandings that criminals would receive in pre-Edo Japan, but I like how simplistic they are.”

Your head slightly cocked to the side. “Why did you want to get the brandings of pre-Edo criminals on your body?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to get the brandings of pre-Edo criminals on my body?” He shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms again. A thoughtful look crossed his face as he decided to change the subject of conversation. “Will you be around during the summer season?”

“I’m not entirely too sure,” you answered, folding your hands together on the table, resting them there. “I’d have to see what my visa would allow for me considering that the school semester would be over and that’s really the only reason why I’m allowed in this country to begin with. Why?”

“The group and I like to visit private onsens up in the mountains during the summer season. Can’t really do the public ones because of the tattoos, ya know? It’s also matsuri season, too. I figured that you might wanna stick around for that and experience it, too.”

A smile formed on your face as you thought of the future prospect of experiencing a summer festival with the group of people that had so graciously accepted you into their circle. “I’d like that.” 

“I figured that you would. I remember you talking to Shoko and Suguru about how you always wanted to attend both the Gion and Sanno matsuri festivals.”

You squint your eyes at him, surprised. “Wait, how did you know that? I said that ages ago…”

“Call it a photographic memory, brat.” 

“Oh, yeah?” A wisenheimer grin formed, as you sized him up, ready to have him put his money where his mouth was. “What else have I said, done, or did that you can remember, you wannabe Savant?”

“Oh, where does one begin with you?” Sukuna sighed, rubbing his chin as he looked up to the ceiling as he racked his brain to carefully answer your question. “Well, for starters: you just told me that you prefer to wear your contact lenses over your glasses–which, to be frank with you, I find to be incredibly ridiculous as I think you’re very cute either way. I also remember you saying that you prefer to dress a bit on the formal masculine side when you go out–very chic, by the way–but really you would rather stay inside and indoors than go out and wear comfortable clothing. Baggy t-shirts and sweatpants, I’m assuming? What else…? Oh! I also remember you saying that you like to sing, but you wouldn’t do it when we all went to karaoke–which, I’m going to assume is because you either don’t feel comfortable singing in Japanese or because you have stage fright and don’t like singing and putting a performance in front of others, either or are plausible–but I have heard you hum before. You hummed the melody to Howl’s Moving Castle, which makes sense considering the fact that you’ve said that you’re a fan of Studio Ghibli films; your favorites being Howl’s Moving Castle and The Wind Rises. I’ve also noticed that you don’t like grand, extravagant gestures–basically anything that Satoru does for you–but you do have a soft spot for much smaller, and intimate ones; ones that are well thought-out and take careful consideration for you and what you want.” His eyes drifted down from the ceiling to meet yours once again. “...How am I doing so far?” 

The grin slowly but surely faded from your face the more and more that Sukuna went on with his answer and it became abundantly clear to you what Shoko was talking about earlier, saying that Sukuna liked you a bit more than he initially let on. He paid attention to you, from the most macroscopic level to the most microscopic detail that you have offered him, whether it be intentionally or unintentionally. This man quite literally just read you like you were an open book, from the first page to the last. What had him so intrigued about you, you had no idea. 

You were stunned.

His smirk deepened the more he looked at you and the more that your silence filled the table. “What? No witty remarks? Cat got your tongue?” 

“No–I mean, yes, I just…”

“At a loss for words at how much I’ve noticed?”

You dry swallowed. “Yeah… I guess that’s it.” 

Your server approached the table, setting the drinks and bowls of ramen in front of you. They promptly bowed, telling both you and Sukuna to enjoy the meal that the chefs prepared for you. Sukuna reached into the circular tin at the edge of the table that stored the chopsticks, grabbing two packages. He ripped the packaging off of yours and effortlessly broke the sticks apart, before handing them over to you. 

You positioned the sticks in your hand, ready to dig in just before you heard a chiding: “Ah, ah, ah.” You glanced up to see Sukuna looking at you with a disapproving look on his face, his palms pressed together at the front of his chest.

“Oh, right. My mistake.” You set your chopsticks down to the side of the bowl and mimicked his position, pressing your hands together at the center of your chest. 

“Itadakimasu!” you both chanted, your voices blending together as you bowed both of your heads together simultaneously. 

“Ladies first.” Sukuna gestured to your bowl, giving you to go ahead to start eating before him, even though you were fairly certain that he was older than you. You didn’t question it.

“What did you order, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Sapporo ramen. Felt like it would do me some good on this winter night,” he replied, before swigging down several gulps of the tall pitcher of beer that he ordered as his drink. “Go ahead and eat. Let me know how the miso dish is, yeah?” 

You nodded, using your chopsticks to break the dish and stir the contents around your bowl.

Uncertainty began to churn in Sukuna’s abdomen as he looked at you, noticing that you weren’t really looking at him… or talking to him; like all of the other interactions that you’ve had with him prior. He hated feeling like this–like he needed to be walking on eggshells around you. “I haven’t… made you uncomfortable, have I?”

The question caught you off guard, making you look up at him from your bowl to see his eyebrows furrowed as he gazed upon you with a somewhat concerned expression. “N-no. I promise you haven’t.”

He let out another low hum, his chopsticks twirling around in his fingers like it was a skilled craft that he had learned at the dinner table as a young child and had perfected the motions throughout his years. “Can I ask you a question, then?”

You mutely nodded; the aroma of the ramen bowl reached your nose, nearly causing your mouth to salivate.

“Did you not like me when we first met?” he asked, officially throwing all caution to the wind, fighting through the embarrassment and self-consciousness that began to plague him. “You never really chose to interact with me unless you absolutely had to, always choosing to go with either Shoko, Satoru, Suguru, or Kento.” God, he felt like such a little kid asking this question. He could feel his cheeks heat up, his face beginning to flush red, but he was choosing to attribute that to the alcohol that he had consumed, rather than his own emotional state of being. 

If it was with anyone–legitimately, anyone–else, he wouldn’t have cared if they liked him or not; why were you suddenly the exception to his own ego and self esteem?

“I feel like I should be asking you that.” 

Now it was his turn to be caught off guard. “What?” 

“You kind of did the same thing, too…” you sheepishly replied. “You never really interacted with me, either. Plus, I found you to be quite…” You hesitated to say the next word, afraid that you might insult him.

“Found me to be quite… what?” Sukuna prompted; he honestly wanted to know what you were thinking.

“Okay, don’t be mad at me when I tell you this, but I always found you to be…” if there was ever a time to be honest, now was the time to do it, “...unnerving.” 

“Oh.”

You hated his one word answer; he seemed dejected at the most minute level that you were able to detect and you absolutely despised the possibility that you might be the cause of it. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you.” 

“No, I’m not upset–I just don’t know why I expected anything different, to be honest.” 

You internally cringed at his answer, knowing that, in some way, shape, or form, he was indirectly calling you out for your behavior towards him; you realized that you hadn’t been very fair to him, much like had anything or anyone else was in his life. It unsettled you to know that, in a way, you somewhat contributed to judgment, much like the rest of Japanese society had done to him. 

You knew better than that. 

“I’m really not upset. Honest. Please don’t think that I am,” Sukuna uttered, noticing your internal monologue play out on your face. He set down his chopsticks on the hashioki that was beside his bowl and grabbed your hand, trying to convey his sincerity to you. You looked down and saw that his hand completely enveloped yours, his lightened skin tone contrasting yours. “Listen, I know that I don’t exactly give people a warm, fuzzy appearance when they first meet me. Plus, the reason that the others continue to hang around me is because we’ve known eachother since early childhood–they’ve known me and have dealt with my bullshit for the longest time; I should have known better when it came to meeting you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t make much more of an effort.” He gingerly squeezed your hand, his thumb slowly swiping along the ridges of your knuckles. 

“Maybe we’re just both failures at being sociable,” you dryly chuckled, trying to add some humor to the somber moment. 

Sukuna snorted. “Maybe we are.” 

The entire dinner was dealt with in a comfortable silence that settled between the two of you as you both ate your meals together. The discomfort and anxiousness that you initially felt at the start of your outing was long gone, finding yourself to be a bit more at ease with your dinner companion. It also helped that the meals that you both ordered were absolutely delicious, the broth from your ramen filling you with a warmth that you knew was going to last you throughout the night. When it came time to pay for your meals, you attempted to reach for your wallet, but Sukuna was much quicker with the money than you were, giving you that same disapproving look that he gave you at the start of your meal.

As soon as you both stepped outside of the restaurant, the winter air assaulted you once again, making a shiver rip through your entire trunk, rattling you to your core. 

Sukuna immediately noticed this. “Are you cold?”

“A bit,” you answered, wrapping your arms around yourself in order to preserve what little warmth your body could conserve. 

Without hesitation, Sukuna shrugged off his coat, placing it around your shoulders, making you do a double take at him. “Won’t you be cold?” you asked, concerned. 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” he cooly responded, trying to fight off a laugh that bubbled in his abdomen at how you were practically drowning in his coat. “You drink enough alcohol and eventually it’ll keep you warm. Plus,” he grabbed the collar of his coat, pulling it tighter around you so that it hugged your body a bit more snugly, “if I do get sick, you can always take care of me and nurse me back to peak physical health.” 

You barked out a laugh. “I think you’ll be sorely disappointed at how badly I play nurse.” 

“Please. I’m sure you’re a lot better than you think you are,” he said, wrapping an arm around you, tugging your body into his side, his hand rubbing up and down your arm to try and create friction based warmth for you. “Besides, you can’t be any worse than Satoru is. I got food poisoning once from 7-Eleven sushi that must have gone bad on the shelf, and I asked him to get me some clear broth, something that would be easy for me to digest after being violently sick for god knows how long–the man decided to get me a full scale meal from McDonald’s instead. He’s like a child that has the shortest attention span, I swear.” 

Sukuna began walking you forward, you assumed back to the train station so that he could take you back to your dorm where you knew Shoko would be waiting for you. You passed an alleyway where you could see an entryway to a little night market had been set up when it previously hadn’t been before. 

“Hey, do you wanna see what that’s all about?” you ventured, craning your head to look up at him. You weren’t entirely too sure if you wanted your date to be done and over with just quite yet. 

“Sure, why not.”

He turned the both of you down that alleyway, where you passed a bunch of stalls and minishops that were selling various goods and services in preparation for the upcoming holiday season. You maneuvered your way out of his grip, feeling unbearably hot as Sukuna’s body heat began to seep through both yours and his coats. “I think I’m warm enough now,” you murmured, putting a bit of distance between you two, but still stuck close to him. 

You both approached a little art section where people were paired off, one person sat in a posed position while the other faced them in the other direction and attempted to draw them. 

“Come on. I wanna draw you,” Sukuna declared, pulling you towards the festivities. 

“Like one of your French girls?” 

“Ha.” He robotically laughed, finding the reference in poor taste. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

He grabbed your hand and led you to an open seat at the very far end, where there another seat had a selection of paper on an easel and a variety of pencils and markers available. 

“Since when do you draw?” you asked, taking the seat opposite of where Sukuna was sitting. 

“Brat, I’ve been drawing. You just never really bothered to ask in the first place,” he retorted, shooting you a playful smile. “I just recently took an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop that’s not too far from the university campus and I’ve been needing to work on my portrait skills, anyways. Now–” he grabbed the easel, placing it in front of him and selected the desired lead grades for the pencils that he wanted to use after careful consideration, “–turn your chest slightly to the side, but still keep your eyes on me.”

You followed his instructions, and held the position to the best of your ability, watching as Sukuna got to work. You don’t know how long you sat there for, but you observed Sukuna in his element, staring him down as he continuously glanced to you and away from you; though you couldn’t see what he was illustrating, you could see his hand that expertly gripped the pencil in between his fingers, fly across the paper. The cold, winter air continued to bite at your exposed skin, making your body want to shiver in retaliation to the elements, but you did your best to remain as still as possible, wanting to be a good muse for your artist. 

“Have you always wanted to be a tattoo artist?” you wondered, holding steadfast to your stationary position.

He silently nodded, but his gaze was still focused upon his canvas; his eyes were strict with the attention to detail that he was placing upon the paper in front of him. “Wasn’t good enough for university, but I was always pretty good at crafting art and drawing random shit when I was a kid growing up. Figured I could make a career out of it.”

“What would you want to specialize in?” 

He glanced up to you, shading in several more patches in between the lines. “Black and gray realism.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“You know, for someone that’s supposed to be a statue right now, you certainly are asking a lot of questions,” Sukuna teased, as he fought off a smile from forming on his face. “But, to answer your question, I like the attention to detail that that style requires. Now, no more questions, or talking in general–I’m almost done.” 

Five minutes later. “Aaaannnnd, done!” he announced, carefully taking the paper off the easel as he set the pencils off to the side. 

“Let me see it!” you said excitedly, jumping off the chair, eagerly making your way over to him so you could see what he drew for you.

“Nope,” he responded, his lips popping on the ‘P’. He held the paper above your head and carefully folded the paper so that he could tuck it away in the back pocket of the jeans that he was wearing. “I’ll give it to you when you get back to your dorm.”

“What? I just sat here for like twenty five, thirty minutes and you’re not even gonna let me see the final product? Rude.”

He chuckled once again, “I’m not saying ‘no’, brat. I’m simply saying ‘not right now’.”

“You’re still calling me that? How would you like it if I called you Kuna-Tuna?”

He reached up and ruffled the top of your hair, threading his fingers into the strands of your dark, brown hair. “Affectionately, of course. Plus, there’s a stark difference with that nickname coming from you versus Satoru and Suguru.” He sighed, ascertaining how late it was and that he needed to get you back to your dorm before the subways would shut down for the night. “I need to get you back to your dorm. It’s already late and I don’t want to pay the inflated rates for a taxi.”

“Oh. Right.” That one simple sentence brought you back down to reality, and you could feel a slight sadness begin to take hold in your chest. You didn’t want this night to end; you actually ended up having a lot more fun than you initially thought that you would, and your relationship with Sukuna was no longer on the rocks. You could actually see yourself becoming a lot closer with him if things continued to progress the way that they were after this. 

“Hey, don’t look so down,” Sukuna spoke softly to you, his voice taking on a tender edge that you’ve never heard from him before. “After exams, you’ve got winter break, yeah? We’ve got plenty of time before that, and then some after. I figured I could take you to the Ghibli museum, if you’re not going back home, that is.” He looked unsure as he said that, hoping that you would prove him wrong and still be in Japan over the break. 

“Like… as another date? Just the two of us?” you questioned, your eyebrow raising slightly.

“If… if you’ll have me, that is.”

You enjoyed seeing him flustered. It was a nice change of pace to the arrogant, smug facade that he always bared to the rest of society. You reached up and playfully, but gently punched him in his left pectoral muscle with a closed fist. “I’ll always have you, Kuna-Tuna.”

You shrugged off his jacket, handing it back to him before you two made the journey back to the train station. Just as you got back to the main street, you were about to walk on the outside, closest to the edge of traffic before Sukuna tugged on your coat sleeve, making you trade places with him so that he would be on the edge of the sidewalk, rather than yourself. When you got to the station, waiting for the car that would take you back to campus, a group of drunk, rowdy salarymen got too close for comfort for both you and Sukuna. Being the guard dog that Sukuna was, he pulled you tighter into his side and shot the men several glares that would have decimated them if looks could kill–strongly implying to them that they should keep their distance if they knew any better. Thankfully, even through their inebriated stupor, they took the hint and ventured to the far side of the station, keeping their distance from both you and Sukuna.

Once on the train, it was just you and several other passengers that were evenly spaced out in the car; a complete contrast to when you first rode the train to the ramen restaurant. You both sat in silence, just enjoying each other’s company for the current time being. From your peripheral vision, you continued to observe him some more. His head was leaned back up against the car window, his eyes were closed–to some, it would indicate that he was asleep, but you knew that he was just resting his eyes. His Adam's apple was prominent from the way that his head extended backwards, and–

“You’re staring at me again, brat.”

“Your eyes aren’t even open, how the hell can you tell?!” you demanded.

“Call it a sixth sense. I’ve gotten really good at detecting when people stare at me.” Sukuna cracked an eye open, looking at you from the corner of it as a half hearted smile began to form. 

“Oh, of course you have,” you muttered, turning to your head to face forward so you were no longer looking at him anymore.

He let out another boisterous laugh at your remark, leaning forward as he did. The other passengers glared at him, finding it rather annoying that Sukuna was disturbing their peace. He could have cared less in that moment, paying them no mind. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you were standing in front of your dormitory building. You took several steps up the staircase that led to the front entrance, before you turned to face him, now standing eye level with him. You placed out an expectant hand, your palm facing upwards. “May I have my drawing now, please?” 

Sukuna reached into his back pocket, placing the folded piece of paper in your hand. “Here you are, like I promised,” he said. He raised his eyes to meet yours. “You know, for what it’s worth, I’m glad that Satoru, Suguru, and Kento dragged me out to meet you tonight.”

You giggled at that. “I’m glad I didn’t put up much of a fight with Shoko… it’s not like I would have won, to begin with.” You glanced down at the piece of paper, before glancing back up to meet his eyes once again. “I had a good time tonight. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“And, for what it’s worth,” you said, reiterating Sukuna’s words back to him, “I’m glad I got to know you a bit better.”

A red tint colored his cheeks for the nth time that night. “Yeah?”

You nodded, a small smile formed. “Yeah.” 

A beat of silence passed between you two before he asked you, “Can I try something?” 

You looked at him, questionably. “What is it?”

Sukuna took a step forward onto the first stair on the staircase, placing him at a higher height than you so you were no longer eye level with him. He reached towards you with a single hand, tenderly placing it on the side of your neck. He paused for several moments, gauging your reaction to see if you had any objection, to which you had none, before pulling you forward so that he could gently place a kiss to the crown of your hairline. Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his lips on your forehead, but you remained still, basking in the physical affection that he wanted to give you. It only lasted for several seconds before he pulled his lips away and took his hand off your neck and stepped backwards off the first stair, so that you were eye level with him again. 

“Have a good night, Y/N-chan. I’ll see you at the next group meetup, yeah?” Sukuna said, taking several steps backwards, but still maintaining eye contact with you. He reached up with one of his hands to rub at the back of his neck.

“Y-yeah. I’ll see you,” you stammered, your eyes locked on his retreating figure.

“Good. Get some sleep, yeah?”

“Y…you, too.”

Sukuna chuckled for the last time that night before he turned away from you, facing the other way so he could begin the venture back to his home. 

You stumbled up the stairs, nearly tripping over your feet as you did, inputting the code into the locked door before it granted you access back into the dorms. 

You unfolded the piece of paper to see the portrait that Sukuna had drawn for you and your breath caught in your throat when you first looked at it. There was such careful detail in what he had sketched out for you. From the way that he had shaded in your skin tone, to the meticulous line work that he had done for your face, specifically around your eyes, nose, and lips. He had drawn your hair to where it gently cascaded down your back, and wisps of stray strands softly wrapped around your face. To you, this sketch had felt like this was something that he had done with his heart and soul, rather than as a heat-of-the-moment thing to do simply because it was there. In this drawing, there was a gentleness and a tenderness that you felt like it couldn’t be replicated if he had tried to do it with someone else. 

He sketched you so beautifully in this; it was as if he had perfected his craft when it came to you. Had he done this in his spare time before? Was this truly how he saw you and interpreted you and your existence?

You turned to look through the window on the door to see Sukuna’s body frame get smaller and smaller the more that he walked away from you and put more distance between himself and the girls dormitories. 

Sukuna Ryomen was a man who was not good with his words; his actions, however, were far louder.

[yanyandam]

IDYLLE - HANMA Shuji x Rich!Foreign!Fem!Reader

Don't know if I'll really continue this, but I really want to, so consider this as a chapter ONE! Sorry for the inactivity!!

Tokyo, 2005. Kabukicho – the city’s diseased heart.

Hanma lit a cigarette with shaky fingers, not from nerves, but from the anticipation crawling under his skin. The night was slow. Too slow. And when he was bored, he needed to break something. Or someone. He prowled the neon-stained streets like a hyena, looking for some poor bastard dumb enough to cross his path.

That’s when he heard it:  some kind of foreign swearing echoing from a narrow alleyway. His head tilted, a crooked grin already forming. That wasn't Japanese. French? English? Arabic? Who gave a shit. It was different. He wandered over, all casual menace, and peeked into the alley.

There she was. A girl. Young, definitely not from around here. Maybe a tourist. Or maybe just a rich little expat brat pretending to slum it for the thrill. Hanma squinted through the smoke curling from his lips and took her in. Designer clothes. Leather bag that probably cost more than a month's rent in Shibuya. Her whole vibe screamed money. The kind of girl who’d never touched a dirty sidewalk in her life. And then it clicked. He had seen her before. Around the city, whispers in the underground. Some rich kid whose dad dragged her back to Japan for business or some shit. A foreign princess dropped in the worst fucking part of Tokyo? Hanma chuckled, low and cruel. Jackpot!

She was perfect. Out of place, out of her depth, and about to have a real Kabukicho night. No bodyguards, no map, no clue. Just a walking, talking goldmine with wide eyes and soft skin. Finally, something fun. Scaring the shit out of some sheltered little heiress in this cesspool of sin? Then try to get some cash?  Yeah. That’d scratch the itch.

–

The deeper into the district she wandered, the more twisted everything got. Garish lights cast fake warmth over cold concrete. Host club signs blinked above rusted pipes. Shadows stretched longer than they should’ve.  The air reeked of cigarette smoke, piss, and stale beer. Somewhere in the distance, someone screamed, drunk, angry, or both. A trash bag burst open beside her foot with a wet slap. She flinched. “@//!!##@!?” she hissed again, voice sharp, furious. She kicked the bag, wiped her shoe against the curb, and cursed some more. Behind her, a voice dropped into the silence like a blade.  “Hey.”

She froze. Turning slowly, she found herself face to face with a tall guy leaning half in shadow. Cigarette between his teeth. Hands in his pockets, smile nowhere to be seen. He looked at her like she was something that had just crawled into his territory. “What’s a thing like you doing in a place like this?” he asked, monotone.

She stared at him a beat too long before snapping back, her accent thick as a brick wall.  “Beats the hell outta me.”

Hanma tilted his head slightly. That accent? Rich girl trying to sound tough. Funny. He didn’t laugh, though. He just studied her. High-end boots. Clean, expensive jacket. Designer bag clutched tight like it could protect her.  Yeah. Out of place. Easy pickings. She scowled at his silence. “You’re local, right?” she said sharply. “So tell me…how the fuck do I get out of this goddamn shithole?”

He blinked. The tone. The nerve. He took a step closer. Just one. Just enough.  “You’ve got a mouth on you.”  Then, flatly: “I could help. But people don’t just end up in Kabukicho by accident.”

That hit a nerve. She snapped. “Oh, piss off. I took the wrong train, my phone died, and now I’m stuck in this dump surrounded by freaks and perverts. Happy?”

Hanma looked amused now. Not amused like he thought she was funny, amused like a man watching an ant crawl into a trap. “Sounds like a you problem.”

She stepped back. Not far, but enough to show she felt the pressure. “You gonna help or not?”

Hanma didn’t move. “Sure. I’ll walk you outta here. But directions cost money around here.” He smiled, wide now, something unhinged flickering behind his eyes.  “And you look like you’ve got plenty.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “What? Are you trying to rob me?”

Hanma shrugged. “Nah. Just helping you understand the situation.” He nodded toward the street behind him, twisting alleys, flickering signs, broken bottles and guys who really didn’t give a damn. “You’re walking around looking like a gold bar in a junkyard. Lucky you found me first.”

She squared her shoulders. “You think I’m scared of you?”

Hanma grinned again, lips pulling too wide. “You should be.”

He took another step. “But hey. Give me what’s in your wallet, and maybe you get home with all your teeth. I’m doing you a favor, really.” She didn’t answer. Her jaw clenched. Her fingers tightened around her bag. And Hanma just stood there, patient, amused, watching her squirm. 

Somewhere above them, a sign buzzed and flickered, half-dead kanji pulsing red against a building covered in grime. A busted AC unit groaned in the window of a love hotel. Down the alley, a drunk hostess stumbled in heels, shrieking with laughter at nothing. A cat hissed near a pile of steaming garbage. And right in the middle of it all:  Her. She exploded. Not at Hanma. Not even at the situation, really. Just at the universe. “FUCK! WHY. ALWAYS. ME?!” Then came the torrent, curses in a language that twisted like spit and razor blades. It sounded like she was casting a spell out of rage.

Hanma just stared.

Expression blank. Hands still in his pockets. This… girl? Thing? Whatever she was, she’d gone nuclear. She was pacing now, stomping, still yelling at absolutely no one. “What kind of god hates me this specifically?! I’m just tryna exist! I didn’t kill anyone! I PAY MY TAXES, OKAY—well, okay, my dad does, but STILL!”

Hanma blinked. Slowly. What the actual fuck? She wasn’t even talking to him anymore. Hadn’t been for a while. Just screaming at the walls, at the alley, at the broken vending machine nearby. From the outside, it looked like a very angry, possibly possessed model had wandered into the slums to reenact a breakdown. He tilted his head, genuinely puzzled now. “...She on drugs?” he mumbled to himself.

And then she stopped. All at once. Like someone hit a switch. She turned her face upward, toward him. Finally looked at him. Calm now, but still pissed. Her frown was solid. Unmoving. For a second, the light hit her just right; one of those sickly streetlamps with a dying orange glow. Hanma blinked again.

Oh.

She was pretty.

No, actually pretty. Not just rich-kid-put-together. Not club makeup or plastic face. Just… sharp-eyed, pissed-off, and raw. Hanma frowned and shook his head once, hard—like the thought offended him. “Tch.”  Nope. Not going there. Still, the chaos she just unleashed lingered in the air like gunpowder. He couldn't decide if she was insane… or the most entertaining thing he'd seen all week.

The girl had finally stopped her meltdown, and for a second Hanma thought she might just pass out on the spot from pure rage fatigue. She was quiet now. Breathing hard. Still frowning at him like he was the idiot here. Hanma clicked his tongue and took a step forward, back into character: sharp shoulders, lazy smile, eyes cold. “Alright, fun’s over. Hand over the cash, princess.” His voice dropped low. That tone that usually made people flinch. “This ain’t negotiable. You either pay the toll, or I get creative.”

He loomed a little, just enough to cast a shadow. But she didn’t even twitch. She just blinked slowly, like he’d asked her to repeat a math problem. Then, she sighed. Long, deep, dramatic. Like she’d just been handed another chore on top of a day full of bullshit. “Ugh. Fine.” She unzipped her bag, dug around, pulled out a crumpled wad of yen, and chucked it at his chest like she was throwing trash into a bin.

“Here, fucker.”

The bills hit his jacket and fluttered to the ground. Hanma stared. First at her, then at the money.  A full second passed. “…The fuck did you just call me?”

He bent down slowly, picked up the bills, eyes never leaving her face. His jaw flexed. She just stood there, unbothered, arms crossed again. “You wanted money. You got money. So shut up and fuck off or guide me out…whichever gets you off faster, psycho.”

Hanma’s hands curled around the bills. His grin came back, but it was thinner now. Meaner. The kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve got a real death wish, don’t you?” he muttered. He stuffed the cash into his pocket without breaking eye contact.

She raised an eyebrow.  “Yeah? Get in line.” A bottle clinked somewhere behind a dumpster. A rat scurried by. The streetlamp above them flickered again, as if even the electricity was on edge. Hanma was quiet. Tension crackled off him like static.  Because he didn’t know what the hell this girl was. Hanma stared at her like she’d just spit in his face.

She had nerve, sure, but this wasn’t just bratty rich-girl attitude. This was something else. Something off. She swore like a Yakuza boss having a bad trip. She talked to herself like a lunatic. She handed him cash like he was a fucking delivery boy. His fingers twitched. He stepped forward. Slowly. Boots crunching on broken glass. She didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. He leaned in closer, head tilted, grin gone now. Just teeth. “You know… usually I don’t hit girls.”  He paused. “Too easy. Too boring.”  Another step. “But you…are you even a girl? Or are you just some loud, cracked-out goblin in a skirt?”

She met his gaze, eyes looking like broken mirrors. “Try me, bitch.”

He clenched his jaw. One more step and he was right in her face. Hands still in his pockets, but his whole frame radiated violence now. He wanted to hit something. Not even for the money anymore. Just to shut her the fuck up. Then…

CLANK.

A loud rattle from the trash bin beside them. They both froze. Hanma slowly turned his head. The lid of the dented metal bin was moving. “…You gotta be kidding me.” Another rustle. A soft, throaty sound…mew.

Hanma frowned, then reached out and popped the lid open. A small, filthy grey cat stared up at him from inside. Big eyes, matted fur, twitching tail. It looked pissed off and slightly offended to have been discovered. He blinked.  “…Seriously?”  Then bent down and, without much thought, reached in and grabbed the thing by the scruff.

It meowed again, less angry now.

He held it up like it was a piece of trash he hadn’t expected to feel warm. It wriggled slightly, then gave up. That’s when he heard it. Her voice. Softer. Different. “…Here you are.” He turned back to look at her.

She wasn’t frowning anymore. Or cursing. Or posturing. Just… looking at the cat. Her eyes had lost that razor edge. Her shoulders dropped a little. And for the first time, Hanma wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. He looked between her and the ugly, pissed-off cat in his hand. Then muttered, genuinely confused: “…What the fuck is happening right now?”

Somewhere above them, a fluorescent sign buzzed like a dying fly. The neon red light painted Hanma's cheekbones in devilish hues, flickering every few seconds like a strobe from hell. Broken bottles littered the gutter. Water (or something pretending to be water) dripped from a rusted pipe above, hitting the concrete with a slow, rhythmic tap. And in this glorious, rotting cradle of Tokyo nightlife, Hanma stood there holding a feral trashcat like it was a sacred offering. The girl in front of him stepped forward cautiously, like one wrong move might spook a ghost. Her voice, for once, was hushed.  "Give him here..."

Hanma gave her a sideways glance but didn’t resist. He held the cat out lazily, still gripping it by the scruff, its back legs dangling in the air like wilted noodles. She moved in, arms slightly out, hands open. “Come on, little sh—”

SKRRRAAT!

The cat, apparently still full of hellfire, twisted midair and slashed at her wrist with a crackling hiss. She recoiled fast, nearly tripping over her own foot.  "FUCK—!” The hiss echoed around them like static in a cave.

Hanma raised an eyebrow. The girl clutched her hand, face contorting, not with pain, not really. Something else. Something rawer. She didn’t say anything for a second. Just stared at the ground, chest rising and falling. Hanma squinted. “…What the fuck is your deal?”

She didn’t answer right away. Then: “I’ve been trying to approach him for hours…” She rubbed her wrist. Her voice came out brittle, like she'd forgotten how to shout. “…Then I ended up there.”

A pause.

Hanma blinked.

Wait.  That was it? That’s how she got lost in one of the dirtiest, sketchiest back alleys in Tokyo? By following a cat? A full second of silence passed.

Then Hanma broke.

“PFFFT—AHAHAHAHAHA—!”

It started like a cough and escalated into a full-on maniacal laugh. His head tipped back, body convulsing from the force of it.  “YOU FOLLOWED A FUCKIN’ CAT?!” He pointed at her with one hand, still holding the cat in the other like a sock puppet. “INTO KABUKICHO? Are you out of your entire goddamn mind?!” His boots scraped the pavement as he stumbled from laughter. “You serious?! What are you, some Disney crackhead princess?!”

She turned red with rage. Her hands balled into fists. “You lanky worm!”

“Oh, ho! That all you got?!” Hanma was doubling over, tears almost in his eyes

“You look like you live in a dumpster and fuck cardboard boxes—”

That did it, Hanma’s body jolted with another wheeze, arms flailing… And he let go of the cat. “Oh—shit.”

The cat dropped like a heat-seeking missile, hit the pavement with a wet thump, and took off down the alley, vanishing under a fence like a blur of grey fury. They both stood still. The girl stared after it, mouth half-open in quiet devastation. Hanma straightened up, slowly turning to her.  “…Whoops.”

The neon above them buzzed. A breeze kicked up a plastic bag, sending it tumbling like a lost soul. Her silence was worse than her shouting. Hanma scratched the back of his neck. Somehow… it had just gotten a lot weirder.

She stared at the fence where the cat had vanished, face stony. Her fists were clenched at her sides, jaw tight. For a second, Hanma thought she might scream again. Or maybe try to stab him with a nail file. Honestly, both would’ve been entertaining. But instead…

She just closed her eyes. And sighed. Long. Deep. Like she’d just surrendered her soul to the universe and regretted every decision that brought her to this precise goddamn alley.  “…Whatever.”

She turned back toward him. Her expression was unreadable now. Blank, but exhausted. “I’m done. Just—tell me how to get the hell out of here.”

Hanma arched a brow. No sass? No insult? No weird curses in unknown languages? She looked at him like she was done: with the cat, with the night, with Tokyo, with life. He puffed his cigarette, amused.  For a second, he considered sending her in circles just for the hell of it. But then again… he had gotten his money. And a laugh.

Not bad for a night that started with boredom and cigarettes. He took one last drag and flicked the butt into the gutter, watching the ember die.

Then pointed casually toward the far end of the alley, toward a dim-lit street that curved sharply to the left. “That way,” he said, voice smooth. “Couple blocks, then you’ll hit the main road.”

She didn’t even thank him. Just gave him one last sour look and trudged off, mumbling under her breath in that mystery-language of hers, footsteps echoing off the concrete. Hanma watched her go, the corner of his mouth curling.

She turned the corner. Disappeared into the neon glow.

He slipped his hands into his pockets and started walking the other way, whistling low under his breath.

Then, after a moment, muttered to himself with a lazy grin. “…That road leads straight to the red-light maze.”

A breeze carried the stink of the alley behind him. Somewhere, a siren wailed far off.

NOTE: lmao this was an x oc but i always feel so embarassed showing my ocs that I turned it into an x reader!

[monicascot]

Geisha Show in Tokyo | Tantra Tokyo Show Club | 芸者ショー

Experience the timeless allure of a Geisha Show at Tantra Tokyo Show Club! Join us for a night of elegance, culture, and mesmerizing performances by graceful geishas. Immerse yourself in the enchanting ambiance and make unforgettable memories at our night party. Discover the magic of traditional Japanese entertainment in the heart of Tokyo. Don't miss this captivating experience! #GeishaShow #TantraTokyoShowClub #NightParty #JapaneseCulture #TokyoEntertainment

[reallyromealone]

Title: Tokyo host club

Chapter: 5

Fandom: Ouran high school Host club x Tokyo revengers

Genre: fluff

Warning: omegaverse, Omega male reader, alpha host club, Sano reader, slight sexism, reader has tude

🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛

(name) was excited when he saw where Mitsukuni was taking him on their first date, getting approved by (name)s eldest brother to be with him unnatended, something that the blond wasn't going to take for granted.

(Name) Only went to the Tokyo science museum a few times in his life, between school and making sure his siblings didn't die, he didn't have a lot of free time-- and his side hustles didn't help with time management either. "I got us the VIP tickets! We get to see all the cool stuff and the space show!" Mitsukuni said excitedly and (name) tried to not seem overly excited but the Sano couldn't help but smile softly, eyes glittering a bit.

(Name) Excitedly explained everything, how things worked and the passion in his voice... Mitsukuni couldn't look away.

And the way he looked back at the Alpha... The pure unfiltered love for science and math.

That's when mitsukuni fell in love.

He fell so in love.

It wasn't until later into the night when they walked to the theatre, a large dome with a hologram projector in the middle. (Name) And Mitsukuni got the best seats and the two listened closely and being a risk taker, mitsukuni took (name)s hand; he was so happy when (name) laced their fingers. The host explained planetary alignment, every star and the paths they take.

After the show, (name) Was confused when two employees handed them gift bags and a thank you to mitsukuni for his donations to the children's learning centre, a free program for children to learn science and free summer camps. "You did that?" (Name) Asked when they got into the limo, a soft smile on his face and Mitsukuni shook his head "nope! I put it in your name so you did it!"

"I- I don't know what to say"

"Don't say anything, just enjoy!" Mitsukuni beamed and (name) looked at him softly.

(Name) Treated Mitsukuni to dinner after, nothing fancy but the diner had a great selection of sweets and (food flavor), mitsukuni not caring if he got whipped cream on his expensive shirt and chatted with (name) about the science centre, (name) listening and occasionally chiming in.

"Did you like the tool set?" Mitsukuni suddenly asked and (name) nodded "its-- it's great, thank you... My clubmates were impressed at your selection" (name) said with a bit of a grin "I'm going to be using them on my bike when I get home"

"What about your homework?"

"I finished that waiting for you"

"I forgot you're super smart" mitsukuni mumbled sweetly and (name) snorted "you really don't see how smart you are, do you?" The blond asked and (name) shrugged "I know-- I know I'm smart I just don't like making it my personality" he explained before continuing "If an alpha shows off their talent and is prideful in it they are seen as ahead of the game and brilliant but if an Omega does, they're seen as rude and obnoxious"

Mitsukuni didn't think about that, staring at (name) with a look that the Omega couldn't quite recognize but the Alpha decided at that moment he was going to see that (name) could be who he was without fear of judgement.

The two chatted away about school and life things "my grandpa wants to meet you, don't worry you don't have to fight another person he only fights Mikey now to keep him from doing dumb stuff" he said taking a bite of his food and Mitsukuni giggled a bit at the image "he's the only one who I know can beat Mikey"

Mitsukuni was curious about he mysterious grandpa, wanting to make a good impression to the elderly man who raised all five of the Sanos. When the moon grew higher, Mitsukuni brought (name) home and refused to let the Omega carry the things the Alpha got him at the science centre claiming that he shouldn't have to worry about these things with him around, the Omega opening the front door and letting the other put it inside before the two stood outside and (name) fidgeted a bit "tonight was fun... Uh, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I'll see you tomorrow, (name)" the blond smiled softly with warmth in his eyes before leaning and kissing (name) gently, (name) looked stunned but his scent gave him away at how happy he was. "Sleep well, (nickname)" the host club member then turned and left, (name) walking into his house and grabbing his stuff before rushing to his bedroom, ears burning.

(Name) Couldn't repress his giggles and joy, immediately pulling out the yarn and crochet hook and determined to make the alphas stuffed rabbit a perfect sweater.

-

It took a week of nonstop crocheting at any available moment he could spare and countless mistakes but... He made a cute little sweater for the toy.

And honestly? He was pretty proud of it, working on it all week made it smell like him and it was a soft yarn that was clearly real and not acrylic like he had seen at hobby stores when he went with Emma. He was a little nervous to give it to the alpha, he knew he would like it... He would like it right?

Oh god what if he didn't like it?!

He was rich, he could probably buy a billion of sweaters just like this!

(Name) Shoved the little sweater in his bag before going to class, trying to not think of the idea of giving this to the alpha.

When he got in, he quietly got his things together and not paying attention to the looks he was getting until a shadow loomed over his desk and he saw the twins leaning over him "sooo~" kaoru grinned deviously and Hikaru leaned on his brother " how'd the date go?" The elder twin asked with a slight sense of entitlement, (name) could tell he wasn't going to like the elder twin already.

"Pardon?" (Name) Asked bored, they didn't know each other remotely enough to be asking these questions, the Omega already uncomfortable with how close the alphas were getting "your date with hunni-senpai!" Kaoru said as if it were obvious and that got everyone's attention see there was the rumor of (name) fighting alphas and that hunni saved him but nothing about a date.

A host club member on a date?

With a commoner?

Who was the least Omega like person out of any Omega in the school?!

Before the class could blow up the teacher walked in, silencing everyone into their seats and (name) felt relief flood through him and shot a glare towards the twins while Haruhi looked mortified at the situation. (Name) Focused on his work, working diligently and efficiency and finishing before everyone per usual much to the teachers annoyance, despite this school being a place where he was supposed to be tested and have harder work, (name) breezed through it.

-

After class, (name) rushed through to his quiet corner during lunch but yelped when two arms wrapped around his own and almost flipped them when he saw the twins and knew they wouldn't hurt him but god they were annoying 'dont hurt your mates friends even if they are annoying' he thought and let himself be dragged to the host club.

The smell of roses was always overwhelming, it tickled his nose in a way he didn't like and wasn't used to, he was used to the smell of motor oil and snacks. "(Nickname)?" Mitsukuni asked curiously, eyeing the way the twins held onto him with a look (name) couldn't describe but the twins seemed to understand the look and stepped back from (name) and the flowery look returned on the alphas face.

"Why am I here?" (Name) Asked while fixing his clothes, a bit uncomfortable around so many alphas that he didn't really know but Mitsukuni was there so he was a little at ease. "We wanted to get to know you! Know who Hunni-senpai's little mate was!" Tamaki said dramatically and (name) shot him a look of vague annoyance "you could have just asked instead of dragging me across the school which was incredibly rude by the way, taking someone without their consent" his words cut into the president and twins egos a bit, Mitsukuni noting mentally how similar he looked to his brothers when he was upset.

Tamaki stammered a bit, not expecting this answer but (name) sighed a bit knowing he should have expected the fact his mates friends wanted to know him had to accept that he was going to be around them. "I forgive you for this, this time but don't make it a habit" he said flatly and sat beside his alpha, he wouldn't openly state that he considered mitsukuni his alpha as it was a very intimate thing to say but the Alpha knew he felt that way and the feelings were mutual.

"(Name)?" Haruhi walked into the club room "do you understand question 17 for the homework? I think it's a mistype" she asked and (name) immediately opened his bag to grab his homework and as he was slipping out his binder the little sweater fell out and onto the floor. (Name)S eyes widened and he quickly grabbed it and put it in his bag "what's that?" Mitsukuni asked the Omega who froze "it's nothing" his words too fast and the Alpha tilted his head and didn't press further, knowing the Omega will tell him when he was ready but didn't like being lied too.

"We heard you went to the craft club, you planning on going to a more omegan club?" Tamaki asked curiously and (name) shot him a glare "I have no intentions of leaving my club thank you"

Kyoya watched the Omega closely, the Sano wasn't like omegas they were used to and honestly it was nice seeing Tamaki be put in his place, the Alpha had a tendancy to be accidentally sexist especially towards omegas and the host club didn't help that as they often played into instincts to keep guest attention.

"Oh, how's Mikey by the way? Is he feeling better?" Kaoru asked and (name) was thankful for the topic change "he's fine, he does want a rematch though but Shin said he can have one when he cleans his room" he said with a small smile "oh! Kyoya, Emma found that chocolate you were looking for while she was out, it's by the crossing just off the music shop and the 109 building" pulling the bag of chocolate from his bags side pocket he offered it to the alpha.

Tamaki was a little jealous that (name) got along with everyone so easily outside of him and Hikaru, even making small talk with Mori on occasion.

But what he had learned was (name) was deeply family oriented and passionate about who he was and where he came from and according to kyoya, insanely smart.

"I heard your teacher might be moving you up to third year classes, that must be daunting" Tamaki chimed and (name) shrugged "I mean, finally honestly--- classes are boring and I mean, I should be in second year but medical stuff ya know?" (Name) Said casually and the host club didn't know but didn't want to make the Omega feel awkward.

"Oh! By the way we're planning a beach day! Would you care to join us?" Tamaki asked the Omega who shrugged "I guess? I would have to ask Shinichiro...."

"No problem!

[ageingfangirl2]

Ran's Little Waitress (Tokyo Revengers - Bonten)

RAN HAITANI X FEMALE READER

CHAPTER SIX: TIME OFF

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE

The first day off, you didn’t move much. The swelling was still bad, and the bruises were tender to the touch. Even the weight of the ice pack made you wince. You stayed in your favourite oversized hoodie, the one with the stretched-out sleeves you liked to tuck your hands into, and thick socks that barely matched.

You curled up in your blanket cocoon on the couch, the glow from your TV casting a soft hue across the room as you rewatched your favourite anime for comfort. The intro song played three times before you realised you hadn’t even touched the mug of tea you’d made.

By the second day, you forced yourself to move a little more. Your knees still stung with every step, but you shuffled into the kitchen anyway. Baking always helped. The smell of vanilla and warm cinnamon filled the apartment while you carefully kneaded dough with bandaged fingers. Something was healing about doing something so normal.

Rindou had texted you once to ask what kind of cookies you liked baking. Then followed up with a ‘no reason’ and a random meme about criminals loving sweets. You hadn’t asked questions, not even how he got your number.

Books and manga lined your small bookshelf, most well-worn and loved, and you found yourself picking up one you hadn’t touched in a while—a crime thriller that oddly mirrored your current feelings of unease. It didn’t scare you, though. It made you feel in control. Like you could anticipate threats now. Outwit them.

When night fell, you didn’t dare go out. Not even to take the trash down the hall. The thought of footsteps behind you in the dark hallway made your stomach twist. So instead, you stay in with a warm mug of cocoa and your knitting needles, the rhythmic click-clack of them working through rows keeping you grounded.

You keep your phone close. Not for calls from the club—but in case he texted again.

Ran had messaged her once, briefly and bluntly, ‘You need anything?’

You didn’t answer right away, unsure if it was out of obligation or something else.

When you finally replied hours later with, ‘I'm okay. Thanks for checking in,’ he didn’t respond. But somehow, you felt like he read it right away.

Two days later, there was a knock at the door just as you pulled a fresh batch of cookies from the oven. The scent of brown sugar and chocolate chips lingered in the air as you wiped your hands on a dish towel and limped slightly toward the door.

You peek through the peephole. Ran.

Opening the door, you were hit by the sight of him standing there in casual clothes—dark jacket, no tie for once—with a white plastic bag dangling from his hand.

He held it out lazily, ‘Rindou made me bring you this.’

You take it, peeking inside to see the unmistakable tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Your favourite.

Your brow lifted, ‘Where is Rindou, anyway?’

‘Club business.’ It came too quickly. Too clean.

You squint at him, suspicious, but a smirk tugged at your lips, ‘Uh huh. You always deliver your brother’s snacks for him?’

Ran didn’t answer, just gave a one-shouldered shrug and looked past you, ‘You gonna make me stand in the hallway?’

‘I just pulled some cookies out of the oven,’ you offer, ‘want tea with them?’

That earned you the faintest smile, barely-there but real, ‘yeah. Sure.’

They sit at your small kitchen table, a mismatched set of mugs between them, yours with little cat faces, his a plain black one she grabbed without thinking.

He took a sip of tea, watching you as you talked—hands animated, voice soft, but brighter than it had been days before.

You pull your knees up onto the chair, showing that the bandages were smaller now, the swelling mostly gone. Your face, too, was significantly less bruised, just a light yellow-green under the eye now, mostly hidden beneath concealer.

‘I’ve been resting,’ you say, ‘staying in like you told me. But I think I’m ready to go back. I can handle it.’

Ran looked at her for a long moment, unreadable, ‘you sure?’

‘I am. I’m not gonna let some asshole scare me out of a job I worked hard to get,’ you hesitate, ‘I’ll be more careful this time. But I need this. I want this.’

He nodded slowly, ‘Alright. We’ll ease you back in. Not on a packed night. I’ll see what I can do, but no promises, because I want you healthy before you come back.’

You smile, relief softening your features, ‘Thanks for considering.’

There was a brief pause before you leaned forward a little, tapping a finger on the table near the cookie plate, ‘also… Mikey,’ your tone turned shy, ‘I wanted to thank him. Properly. Do you know if he likes anything sweet? I was thinking I could bake him something. Cookies, maybe? Cupcakes?’

Ran’s brow raised slightly at your genuine concern, ‘You want to bake Mikey something?’

You nod eagerly, ‘he saved me. I don’t think I’d be okay if he didn’t show up. It’s the least I can do.’

Ran’s lips twitched again at your sincerity, ‘he’s not really a sweets guy…but he’s got a soft spot for taiyaki.’

You hum, ‘taiyaki?’

‘Red bean filling. Sometimes custard. Don’t ask how I know.’

You grin, ‘Got it. Taiyaki it is.’

He took another bite of your cookie, chewing slowly, ‘You really bake just for fun?’

‘Yeah,’ you say, a little sheepish, ‘It’s comforting. Gives me something I can control.’

Ran stared at you, quiet for a second too long, ‘You’re tougher than you look,’ he murmured.

You smile softly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, ‘you’re not so scary when you’re holding a mug of tea and eating cookies.’

Ran snorted, ‘Don’t let the guys hear that.’

Bonten Headquarters - Late Afternoon

Ran walked into the lounge area of Bonten HQ with a plain white pastry box in one hand and a look of mild irritation on his face. Not at the contents—just at the fact that he’d agreed to this.

Rindou was sprawled on the couch, watching something on his phone. Sanzu sat nearby, flipping through a stack of cash like he was counting it just for fun. Koko glanced up from his laptop, and Takeomi was nursing a whiskey at the bar.

Mikey sat in his usual seat—quiet, statue-still, eyes half-lidded but very much aware of everything happening around him.

Ran set the box down on the table in front of him.

‘She made these. For you,’ he said simply.

Mikey blinked, ‘She?’

‘The waitress. From the club. The one you dragged home the other night.’

‘She baked for me?’ Mikey’s voice was faint, almost confused.

‘She wanted to say thank you,’ Ran flopped into a chair and crossed his legs, clearly not up for more questions. ‘I said you liked taiyaki.’

Koko arched a brow, ‘Is Ran delivering sweets now? What next, little pink aprons?’

Rindou perked up, ‘Wait, wait—she baked taiyaki? Like, from scratch?’

Sanzu grinned, ‘Guess she really is trying to impress the boss.’

‘She’s not trying to impress me,’ Ran drawled, ‘she just wanted to bake for the guy who cracked someone’s skull for her.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Sanzu smirked, ‘open the damn box, I’m curious now.’

Mikey opened it slowly, and the scent that hit the room was immediate: sweet red bean, a hint of vanilla and custard, and that perfect golden crust smell. Warm. Soft. Homemade.

He picked one up with his fingers, taking a bite with no hesitation.

The room went silent.

Then, Mikey paused mid-chew, eyes narrowing in thought, ‘These are good,’ he mumbled through the bite.

‘No,’ Sanzu corrected, reaching for another one, ‘these are dangerously good. I might propose to her.’

‘You’ll scare her off,’ Ran muttered.

Koko tried a bite and nodded thoughtfully, ‘She could open her own bakery.’

Takeomi hummed in approval, already going for seconds, ‘we should put her on payroll just to bake.’

Mikey, still munching, looked up at Ran with his usual emotionless stare, ‘She really made these for me?’

Ran nodded once, ‘said you saved her. This was her way of saying thanks.’

There was a pause. Mikey stared down at the taiyaki in his hand like it held the answers to the universe.

‘She can bake again,’ he said, ‘whenever she wants.’

Ran smirked, just a little, ‘I’ll let her know.’

[meownotgood]

under the influence / hayakawa aki

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

CHAPTER TWO — PINK LEMONADE MIMOSA

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 75.3k

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

masterlist.

read on ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're so dramatic." 

"What?" 

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

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

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

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

"You've never had sex before?" 

"I…" 

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

So, you were right. 

"Aki, what's wrong?" 

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

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

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

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

Aki visibly pouts. "Let me up." 

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

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

"You're way too serious." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anything. 

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

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

"I- I think I…" 

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah? You want more?" 

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

"Yeah. I do." 

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

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

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

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

"Okay." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're so pretty, Aki. 

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

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

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

"You okay?" 

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

"I'm fine." 

"You sure?" 

"Yeah. I'm sure." 

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

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

Aki blinks, doesn't answer. 

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

You already have. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You ever had a girlfriend? A boyfriend?"

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

"No. I haven't." 

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

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

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

"Why's that? Not interested?" 

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

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

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

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

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

"Lift your hips for me." 

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff, "Is that so?" 

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

"You aren't a burden to me." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's okay if you are." 

"I'm- I'm fine. Really." 

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

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

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

"Promise?" 

Aki swallows. "Promise." 

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

"You aren't used to this, I know." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah-" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can touch you, can't I?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost. 

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

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

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

"You want these off?" 

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

Your head tilts, "You gonna answer?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're ridiculous. 

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

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

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

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

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

"Stop, stop-" 

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

You follow along. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You wanna keep going?" 

Again, he answers, "Yes." 

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

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

"Yes." Aki answers, "Please." 

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

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

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

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

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

"Has anyone ever touched you like this before?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fortunately, Aki's oblivious enough to indulge you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You okay?" You ask quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I-" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is it 'cause you're too busy?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You think your heart might explode. 

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

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

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

"Uh," He clears his throat, "Sure." 

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

"C'mere." 

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

"Show me." 

"Huh?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay," He answers, "Alright."

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

And Aki moves, touching himself with your own hand. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A coy smirk tugs at the corners of your cheeks. 

Perfect. This'll be another first, then. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Somewhat." 

"Well, don't be." 

"That doesn't help." 

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

Aki blinks once, twice. 

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

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

"You ready?" 

Aki nods, "Yeah. Keep going." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aki huffs. "I'm trying."

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

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

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

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

Aki breathes in. "Okay."

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

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

And he tries. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please, Aki. I need you. 

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

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

He knows you're smirking now. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you were just getting started. 

"Don't cum yet." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You ask him, "How's it feel?" 

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

"Yeah? Keep talking to me." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pretty, you're so pretty. 

continue reading on ao3

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

[bootsukki]

warnings: mention of sex literally at the end, pro!kageyama and singer fem!reader

masterlist

tobio kageyama feels like he won the lottery when he met you two years before. he had met you thanks to a mutual friend who was getting married. you were really close friends with the bride and kageyama completely fell in love with from the moment he saw you and even much more when he heard you sign the bride's favourite song.

he knew who you were, of course. worldwide-known singer (y/n) who started voice acting before moving onto singing, one of your hits getting incredibly viral in the us and other parts of the world. with only 27, you were one of the biggest starts out there.

although he didn't have the chance to talk to you as much as he would have wanted to, destiny had you in kageyama's way and you soon found themselves meeting in other events, which led to today, a relationship that had started almost a year before.

kageyama hadn't seen you for over two months. between his brutal training schedule in italy and your packed tour calendar, your lives felt like two constantly orbiting planets, always close but never quite intersecting. so, when you told him that you'd be back in tokyo for a well-deserved rest at the same time he would be back in japan for the national time training, he knew he had to make the most of his time with you, so, the same day you flew into the city from your last show in korea, he invited you to a friend's birthday party.

kageyama got to the party just after sunset, slipping through the door onto the private club where it was going to be celebrated and he was grateful for the warm ambience it had—just a handful of people gathered under twinkling string lights, everyone laughing and talking about their own lives and careers. and there, in the glow of those lights, he saw you.

you were talking to your friend about something, completely immersed in the conversation, but, at the sound of footsteps getting closer, you turned, eyes meeting his beautiful blue ones.

you excused yourself from the conversation and mei just smiled, knowing how much kageyama had missed you and how much you seemed to as well. your face was fixed on him as you closed the between between your bodies, kageyama burying his face in your shoulder and he breathed you in, the familiar warmth and scent grounding him.

“i missed you,” he murmured softly, only loud enough for you to hear.

you laughed, arms tightening around him. “missed you too, tobi.”

as the night progressed, you guys moved from talking to other people to being tucked away in your own little world and even though they were instances were he was talking with other people and you were gossiping about the latest news, kageyama always had his hands on you, your back, your thighs…

as the night wore on, the crowd started to thin out and you found yourselves in the rooftop of the building, a quiet place to talk and whisper about everything—how exhausting tour had been, how grueling his last training camp was, how you both needed this time just for each other.

then, as you talked, kageyama leaned in, his hands slipping down to your waist and butt, squeezing softly, a soft giggle leaving your mouth as kageyama pulled you closer. your hands rested on his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes before leaning for a kiss that started soft at first but quickly grew deeper, charged with everything you hadn’t been able to say.

i miss you

i can’t wait to be with you

you’re everything i’ve ever wanted

i love you

as kageyama kissed you, he felt your hand rest on the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine and he held you more tightly, fingers curling around your waist still, losing himself in the feeling of finally having you back, even if it was only for a few weeks. during those moments, only you were on his mind, your warmth, your sweet voice, the way you were melting into him right now… nothing else.

what neither of you noticed was the person on the balcony of a building across the street, gawking at the scene with phone raised. the bystander’s eyes went wide at the sight of kageyama tobio, one of japan’s most famous volleyball players, in such an intimate embrace with (y/n), the globally adored singer. they snapped a photo, posting it almost instantly to twitter with a caption that set the internet on fire: “kageyama tobio and (y/n)… together. who else knew?!”

*****

the next morning, kageyama’s phone was buzzing like it was about to combust. every notification—messages from friends, missed calls from his manager, and hundreds of mentions on Twitter and Instagram. confused, he unlocked his phone, and the first thing he saw was the photo.

it was a little grainy, but there was no mistaking it. you were both were clearly visible, caught mid-kiss on that rooftop, his hand on your waist as you leaned into him. his jaw tightened as he read the comments:

OMG, they’re so cute together!

wait, when did this happen? have they been together for months?

kageyama looks… uh, let’s just say VERY into her.

are we sure it is (y/n)????

reply: girl look at her story, it is the same outfit and hair

she’s too hot for him

reply: dude have you seen HIM!??????

you soon found your way into the living room, bleary-eyed with your own phone in hand. “so… i guess the secret’s out?” you asked, holding up the same photo.

he let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. “yeah, looks like it. sorry, baby.”

“why are you apologizing? it’s not your fault.”

you sat down on the couch next to him, bodies hidden under a blanket as you scrolled together through the avalanche of tweets, instagram posts and fan theories popping up in real time. people were going wild, piecing together “evidence” of your relationship. photos from months back were surfacing, times where you were caught wearing a men’s sweatshirt at the airport that seemed incredibly familiar to one kageyama was seen wearing, leaving the same dinner place with other friends, kageyama going to one of your concerts in italy…

you leaned against him, snickering at a post where someone had theorized you’d secretly spent new year’s together just because you both had shared photos of the same fireworks display. “the internet detectives are relentless,” you laughed.

kageyama smirked, showing you another tweet. “this person says we’re engaged because i wore a ‘new ring’ in an interview last month.” he shook his head, laughing. “that was just the ring my sister gave me for good luck.”

you burst out laughing. “the fans are all out here playing detectives, and they think they’ve got us all figured out.”

as you kept reading, the sheer number of theories became almost too much. some fans had created detailed timelines, marking every time you’d been seen in the same city or mentioned the same places. there was even a thread speculating that you had matching accessories—someone had dug up an old photo of him wearing a bracelet that looked vaguely similar to one you’d worn on tour.

“apparently, we’ve been dating for years,” kageyama said dryly, scrolling through one particularly elaborate post.

you grinned, leaning her head on his shoulder. “imagine if we’d actually managed to keep it a secret for that long. these people would probably make better detectives than half the police force and we would be the best actors hiding it.”

he laughed, wrapping an arm around you, still smiling despite all the information it was being thrown at him about his own relationship that he hadn’t even thought about. “i mean… if i’m going to be the talk of the town just for being your boyfriend… i don’t mind it.”

you looked up at him, expression turning more serious as you took his hand. “so… are you okay with everyone knowing?”

he looked back at you, his own gaze softening. “i think so.” he brushed a thumb over your knuckles, a sense of calm settling over him. “i’m kind of done hiding.”

you both sat in silence for a moment, sharing a quiet smile. then, you opened instagram, scrolling to find the post with the photo that had started it all. after a moment of consideration, you shared it to your own story, captioning it simply: guess the secret’s out! great kiss btw

kageyama smiled, pulling you closer as you laughed together over the messages pouring in. you had weathered long months of keeping your love private, but now that it was finally out in the open, there was an unexpected relief.

“they are gonna freak out when they start analyzing your lyrics and find out we have the best sex in the world”

“kageyama tobio!”