Cardinal sin

Creme

"And the guy was like 'I wasn't even in the country' so we checked the databases and it was TRUE! Turned out some kid with a shapeshifting quirk just really liked funko pops." Keigo finished his story with a loud cackle of a laugh, and you couldn't help but join him. You'd been listening to him talk for what felt simultaneously like only a few moments and a lifetime- you loved it. The expressions he made, the voice impressions he did, the way he would gesture with both his hands AND his wings. He was so... pure. So good that you never wanted this moment to end. Your spoon scraped the bottom of the ramekin as you searched for more of the delicious treat inside it. Keigo paused in his story-telling. "If you want more, I can make more." He smiled widely, as if asking permission to serve you- god, could you get used to that.

"No- I probably shouldn't. Too much sugar might make me sick. I'm not even hungry after dinner, I just have a really bad sweet tooth." You admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed by your not-so-adult eating habits, but he just sighed.

"Well, if it'll make you sick, it's a no-go. But there's nothing wrong with having a sweet tooth. You only live once, you might as well enjoy it." He leaned across your tiny, two-person table. His elbows rested on the glass surface, his chin rested on his clasped hands. "I also have a soft spot for sweet things- I think I'm craving some right now." He smirked. You tried not to blush, you really did, but you didn't have much of a choice when he looked at you like that- when he SPOKE like that. You decided then and there that, yes, he knew what he'd been saying. Nothing about Hawks was ever an accident. Every move he made, every word he'd said was calculated, thought through. He had a plan, a script- and you were playing your part so nicely. He liked it, clearly, he liked you.

"And-" you paused, attempting to clear your arousal from your throat- it didn't work. "What are you craving... specifically? Fruit, chocolate, cream?" You knew your voice sounded teasing. You'd wanted it to. You were going to give this monster- this angel- a taste of his own medicine, even if it killed you. One look in his eye and you could tell it just might. He grinned, and leaned back in his chair, a look of contemplation washed over him. He reached up, crossing his arms over his chest and pinching his bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb. He pulled the pink flesh downward, exposing his razor-sharp pearly white teeth. You imagined what it might feel like for those teeth to graze your back- and then immediately pushed the thought back into the recesses of your mind to be filed away in the 'for use with sir buzzy' cabinet.

"I think you know exactly what I want, (Y/N)." His voice dropped several octaves. His eyes burned into you with passion and that familiar hunger you had felt at the restaurant earlier today- god that had all happened today, didn't it- Everything all started today- it all started just 11 hours ago with that cookie. That damn cookie. "The question isn't whether or not I want it, but whether or not you'll let me have it... Baby bird." He licked his lip after the term of endearment, and grinned. "But- I think it's getting late... and you need your rest." He checked his watch, and sighed. "Yeah, sadly it's almost Ten." He looked back up at you with a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, almost devious in nature. "Would you like to sleep over?" The question came as an absolute shock, you really, truly had not expected it. You didn't have an answer prepared, so you said the first thing that came to mind.
"Yes." The smile that followed your words on his face was unlike any of the other grins he had ever given you- It wasn't triumphant, or satisfied, it was soft, but sensual. It was similar to the look you'd seen on people's faces when they came back from long trips and their pets had been waiting at the door. It was a look of waiting for something for a very long time and finally receiving it. It was a look of gratitude, happiness, and found home.

"Hmm. Pack an overnight bag. We'll sleep at mine, I'll bet my bed is bigger." His instructions were prescriptions, they left no room for argument or questions- you liked it that way. You liked when he took complete control and you didn't have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing and somehow snapping yourself out of this wonderful, vivid dream. You needed more instruction, more specific demands. You wanted to please him.