Was really fun to write, but this ended up looking like pwp to me oops (obvious warning for NSFW). And also only one part. I had two parts written but the second part was trash and no good so I cut it down to just this

Prompt: I was wondering if I could ask something for the follower special? It is an AU where the Akatsuki are demons and have to tempt human souls into hell and also cause general mayham and destruction around the world. The scenario thing would be Sasori is tasked to collect s/o soul but it turns out that s/o is not easily swayed into temptation and he grows interested in her. Maybe it eventually leads to sex between them or something? sorry if this isn’t specific enough. I hope you have a good day.^^

Work
has been exceptionally strenuous for him recently. Not that it was an easy job
per se, but it never vexed him like it did now.

He
always held himself as an ideal example of how a demon in his position should
perform. Not like those disgraces Hidan and Kakuzu, who seized—more like purged—too
many souls and created a frustrating disorganization. Not like Itachi, who
seemed uninterested in the task he’d been burdened with. No, Sasori did his job
well. It’s always been easy for him; he’s always fulfilled his duties. But now,
this setback is taking a toll on his patience.

There’s
one soul, one agonizingly tenacious soul always on his mind; he can never seem
to tempt it past the borders of salvation. He just can’t take it. He feels like
he must have memorized every facet of its being by now. It nauseates him
whenever he feels it because damn, he
doesn’t like to be beguiled. This shouldn’t be so difficult.

Still,
the time he spends distressing over the situation could be spent solving it, so
he ultimately decides to resort to divine intervention. Not a notion he
particularly favors, he hates it, in fact. He feels it’s unnecessary and he
definitely doesn’t enjoy fraternizing with humans. It’s so much easier and so much more satisfying getting to twist
their minds from afar, to play their emotions and morality until he can drag
them down. But it usually guarantees success, and fast too, almost always. And punctuality
is key. So he goes through with it.

The
annoyance of the humans surrounding him is only overruled by a sense of triumph.
This one damn soul is picking at his diligence like none other before, so the
reward of dragging them down where they belong will be a relief.

During
his undertaking out into the human world, he can’t go without indulging some
malicious endeavors, just to pass the time. Modest as he is, it’s in his nature
to stir turmoil. He’ll send a few dark and calamitous thoughts to humans as
they pass him on the streets, enjoying the way their faces twist into confusion
or disgust or apprehension. 

The closer he gets to his target soul, the hotter
the fire of frustration grows in his human form. And he’s always hated that too,
how much he can feel when he’s not in his own skin. It has its perks. It’s
sometimes interesting. But the feelings of annoyance amplify and it makes this
predicament all the worse.

It’s
a busy city, a big city, and he finds her about to cross a crowded street as
the walking sign turns.

He
follows her amidst the crowd that moves to the other side of the street. She’s oblivious,
unsuspecting. It’s a few more blocks down the line when he realizes she’s
really not perturbed by his presence. Not that he wanted to be noticed,
but there should have been signs that his persuasion was working by now.
Hesitation in her gait, glancing around nervously to wonder if the voices were
really in her head, maybe she’d even stop in her tracks and he’d get to pass
her and see that disgruntled look he so loves to see on humans. But nothing.
She just keeps walking.

This
process was usually facile and without any complications. Out of any of the
Akatsuki, he’d never failed to carry out his work. He’d always taken souls efficiently
and without delay. Which is what makes this so frustrating. This must be a
mistake. Maybe her soul wasn’t his to take, and there had been some unusual
complications.

Human
time seems to pass by much too slowly, but he must have been following her for
about an hour now, watching her slip into shops and come out with bags on her
arms. He trails her until they’re in a less populated part of the city, only a
few other humans littering the streets. Now by this time, he has half the mind
to just strangle her to death, heaven or hell be damned, he didn’t care where
she went. He just wanted to get rid of her so he could go back down and focus
on another soul. He’s really convinced that this was a mistake. There’s
no way she could possibly be so durable that he can’t lure her in after this long. So the only logical
explanation is that she’s not meant to be damned.

She
turns abruptly, and looks him right in the eye. Sasori stops in his tracks,
realizing he must have been neglecting how much distance he put between them,
but lets no emotion cross his face. 

There’s a latent fire in her eyes, one he
senses every day, one only captured by his demon sight. It’s a mark of those who
are meant to be tempted, proving that she’s a definite target. It’s interesting
because it contradicts her soft face.

He’s
reading her now, twisting his way into her mind to see what she’s really
thinking. She wants to go home, wants to take a bath, then get into bed and
sleep. Not thing the cursed souls usually think about, which heightens his suspicions.
But he also sees she’s conflicted, scared, though he can tell that by her
expression alone.

Before
he can conjure anything artful to say, she pulls something from her pocket and
he moves out of the way before the fiery substance sprays past his face.

“Get
away from me,” she barely chokes out.
He can tell that she meant to scream, but it’s caught in her throat. Realizing
she’s missed, she raises the pepper spray again, angles it right at him, and it’s almost enough to make him chuckle. Even if it had hit him, he doubts it would have done
anything. Though his human body is susceptible to pain, it takes much more to
hurt him. But needs to muster a more human response.

He
raises his hands, shielding himself, and backs away. “Calm down lady,” he
snaps, in his best distressed tone. It sounds silly and nauseating, but he
needs to push her into vulnerability before he can even try and figure out
whether he needs to take her soul.

“Stop
following me!” she shrieks this time, and he does like how desperate it sounds.

“What
are you talking about?” he shouts, feigning disorientation, like a human would.

“You’ve
been following me, I know you have.”

Now
he has to sink deeper into her conscience to find what he’s looking for.
Something that will disarm her, mentally and physically, since she’s still
pointing the spray at him. “This is my apartment building you crazy bitch. What
the hell’s wrong with you?”

It’s
said mostly to fuel something inside her, in hopes that he’ll gain a fragment of
the susceptibility he needs to drag her down. He knows human nature well enough
to understand words alone can aggravate and hurt, but the insult doesn’t seem
to register in her mind. He only senses fleeting guilt, but mostly caution.

“You’re
lying,” she says. “Get away from me before I call the police—”

“I’m
trying to go home lady!”

Shit
he really hates this, but it’s working. It’s enough that she slowly lowers the
spray, and in her mind, he feels the caution gradually fading.

“You
said you live here?” she asks, glancing up at the building towering over them,
and Sasori nods. “Well, I live here,”
she tells him.

Of
course she does. It’s the reason he chose to say what he did. He knew it would
give her some false sense of security, but she’s not completely subdued just
yet.

“How
do I know you’re not lying, and you’re just trying to lure me into a trap or
something?”

The
suspicion of humans is always amusing. “I already told you I’m not following
you, I just want to go home.”

“What’s
your apartment number?”

“425.”

“How
long have you lived here?”

“Two
months.”

“Why
haven’t I seen you before?”

“Maybe
you just weren’t looking hard enough.”

It’s
easy enough to muster replies when he already knows what she’s going to ask.
That last response definitely caught her, he can sense the ease that spreads
through her tense body from finding it so whimsical. There’s still the tint of
caution, though.

“Why
have you been following me so closely then?” she asks, pepper spray finally back in her
pocket.

“Coincidence
maybe? I don’t know. But you don’t just go attacking people like that… As if my
day wasn’t shitty already.”

And
that look on her face is perfect. He knows he’s got her. He actually feels the guilt
seeping in, and the furrow of her brows is telling of her breaking discretion.

“Shit,
I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head and rubbing her temples. “It’s been a
shitty day for me too. I was just scared, sorry.”

Now
it’s guilt and embarrassment, an excellent start to breaking her down. He just
hasn’t decided how yet. “Yeah, I can tell.”

A simple
thought, a human thought, runs
through his mind that he quickly chases away—why are the ones meant to be
damned so alluring? It’s a little interesting how that works. But her eyes are
very captivating, and her soft features do make the reality of her situation a little imbalanced.

“It’s
cold,” he says. “I’m heading inside. Try not to pepper spray me. I won’t make any sudden movements.” He delves into her intimate thoughts as he moves past her. She’s
definitely intrigued with his sharp tongue. It’s easy for him to mold his
personality to humans’ desires, anything that will bait them.

It’s
when she follows him into the building that he’s certain he has her right where he
wants her.

“I
really am sorry,” she says from behind him. 

He heads into the nearest open
elevator, and knows she’s going to choose the fourth floor before she even
presses the button.

“You
seemed quick to pull that out on me,” he says. “Ever had to use it before?” Now he’ll
see how open she’s willing to be.

She
shrugs. “Once or twice. On creepy old perverts though, never someone like you.”

“Someone
like me?”

He
glances over at her as the elevator shakes to life, and sees her blushing a
little. Ah, so this is progressing fast. A little breach into her mind and he knows
what she’s thinking. 

She likes his red hair, his intense eyes that seem to glow
whenever she stares into them. He’d be glad to tell her that the glow is no
illusion, it’s common in demons, that little subtle flicker that seems to
entice humans so easily. But for now, he’ll let it draw her in. 

“I
mean you don’t look like the creep type,” she tells him. “Though, I guess you
can’t really tell.” She smirks at him, the first visible sign that she’s succumbing to the manufactured charm. “So maybe you really were following me.”

“Maybe.”

The
smirk doesn’t relent, not even when the elevator door opens to the fourth
floor. 

He senses a hint of caution once again, and after looking into it, sees
that she’s wondering if he’ll go the right direction to his supposed room.
She’s still concerned that he may in fact be a creep, despite the humor in her
tone.

And
he denies her suspicions, moves out of the elevator and takes a smooth right
turn and feels the relief in her body, and the desperate curiosity.

“Either
way, I really am sorry, and you should accept my apology,” she calls after him,
heading the opposite direction to her own room.

“I’ll
think about it,” he says without turning around. He knows what he needs to do
to lure her in, and that’s remaining as mysterious as possible. That’s what she
likes.

He
reads her one more time before she makes it inside her room. She’s not worried
about bathing and going to bed anymore, she’s worried about seeing him again.
Excellent.

~

He’d
disappeared once confirming that he caught her interest, returning to his world
to take a few more souls in the interim. 

Why couldn’t it always be this easy?
Down in the comfort of his dark domain, no need to venture out of his way and manually
take human souls. All it takes is pulling a few strings of anguish here and
there, depressing them until their souls are easy to pick and drag down. It’s
not as pleasing as it should be, mostly because there’s a far better prize
waiting for him up in the human world.

When
it’s time to continue that mission, he leaves again, timing the situation to
his liking so he runs into her about two days later as she’s making her way
down the elevator.

She’s
surprised to see him, but he doesn’t miss the flare of excitement that crosses
her mind. He’d made sure to implant a suggestion in her mind earlier, that she shouldn’t go check his room, mostly out of fear that it may be too forward and too out of the ordinary. It made sense to her, so she stayed away, despite her tormenting curiosity. 

“You
know I really was beginning to think you were a creep,” she tells him. “When
you didn’t show up after that night, I thought maybe you had just followed me
in here, tried to get lucky.”

“Sorry
to disappoint you.” He joins her in the elevator and sees her flirtatious smile
out of the corner of his eye. He also sees that he’s been on her mind these
past two days, and on more than one occasion, she’s let her conscience drift into
more sensuous thoughts. She’d wondered what it would have been like to invite
him into her room that night, even what it would have been like to follow him
to his room. Sasori is quite surprised, and quite pleased.

“But
really, why haven’t I seen you around before?” she asks. “Even in two months, I
imagined I would have at least heard of someone new moving in, and on my
floor.”

“I
don’t get out much. Only when it’s necessary.”

“Necessary?”

“I
have a remote job. But sometimes work requires me to go out and handle things
on my own.” He loves that she doesn’t realize how true that is.

“Oh?
What do you do?”

“Aren’t
you nosey.”

The
elevator reaches ground level and he lets her step out first. She waits for him
though, and when he’s at her side she gives him a small smirk. “I’m just
curious.”

They
walk out of the apartment complex and she prays that he’s heading the same way
as her, so he does.

“Is
that where you’re going now?” she asks him.

“No.
I just want some fresh air.”

“Right.
The polluted city air is very refreshing.”

“To
me it is.”

That smirk is probably perpetual, he thinks. He feels the warmth of comfort radiating off of her.
“Also, I don’t even know your name.”

He
thinks about evading her curiosity again, but he’s surprising lenient, and he’ll give her this much.
“Sasori.”

“Sasori,”
she repeats it, and likes the way it sounds. “Don’t you want to know mine?”

“Not
particularly.” He already knows it. And there’s a flash of concern and
disappointment in her mind, but it’s overwhelmed by intrigue.

“Oooo,
you’re the indifferent type I see.”

“You
could say that.”

It’s
in that moment Sasori wonders why he’s prolonging this. He’s not usually this
sadistic, but the more he can break her will, the more rewarding it will be
once he drags her down. He’s not quite there yet, which is still confusing and irritating, but it can’t be too much
longer.

They
walk another few blocks, conversing about nothing in particular. He can
still sense her attraction, how she steals glances at him when he’s looking the
other way. 

She loves the mystery surrounding him, the aloofness. Which is good,
because Sasori doesn’t have to feign anything beyond his usual demeanor. It
seems that she enjoys the way he brushes her off. He knows some humans can be
like that, it just incites their curiosity.

When
they near her office building, Sasori ponders whether he should bring her to
that frantic apprehension of separating that she’d had the night they parted
ways. It would be satisfying, but there’s something nagging his mind all of the
sudden and he doesn’t want to deal with her at the moment.

He
doesn’t leave her completely untended. He implants a memory into her mind. Something
like them parting ways quite congenially and her being satisfied with the
farewell wave he offers her.

He
vanishes and adopts his demon form, but doesn’t go back to his world. He
wanders around taking his new frustration out on the more pliable souls he’s
used to. It takes nothing but a few bad thoughts before he can send them down,
or at least lower their will enough to let one of his other colleagues grab
them.

It’s just a thought, but maybe he never needed to switch to his human form in the first place. Would her soul be easier to claim like this? Still in his usual form, just in her human domain? Probably not.

But he considers it and decides to follow her around for the rest of the day. 

He follows her
when she goes to work, unseen by her eye and every other human eye. Traveling
in his true form is much more pleasant, he decides.

At
work, she chats with her friends in an unusual way. Though
she doesn’t bother censoring her sultry nature when she’s with him, she’s much
more relaxed here. She’s smirking and laughing and joking. With him, she seems
focused on nothing but pleasing him and working her way around his mystery to
figure him out. In her mind, she’s complacent, but excited with the prospect of
what’s occurred these last two days. She’s desperate to solve the enigma of his personality. And it frustrates Sasori to no end.

How
can she be so frivolous, but not fall to his temptation? How is she so strong? She
should be the type to easily succumb to the workings of his charm. But she’s
not. He can’t get her.

As
she checks her phone on her break, he knows it’s fortunate that he implanted another thought into her that same morning. A thought not to ask for his number, which he could have easily conjured, but he wouldn’t have wanted to deal with that. Now, he wonders what she’s doing, who she’s
talking to. But he doesn’t check. He’s focused only on her, wondering if this
proximity combined with being in his true form really will change her suscpeptibility.
But no, of course, just as he suspected.

Suddenly
a co-worker comes to speak to her. A man with a sharp face and obnoxiously
flirtatious smile, and Sasori can see the fire in his eyes.

He
has half the mind to send the man down when he starts speaking to her,
blatantly sweet talking and inching a little closer to her with every second.
Sasori reads her and finds she’s not interested, though she’s indulging the
thrill of it nevertheless.

How
mean-spirited.

Even
with this man, nothing about her fire changes. And for once, Sasori’s glad. He
would have been outraged if this man, this mere mortal, somehow affected her
will, while he had been unproductive thus far.

The
man meanders around what he really wants. Sasori barely has to read him to know
he’s inwardly anxious, inwardly desperate. He asks her what her plans are later
tonight, and Sasori waits.

Why
is he so concerned with the answer? Why does he care? Why is he so concerned
when he could just read her and find out before she speaks? Something must be
really wrong for him to lose his wits.

He
finds it just as she says it, “I have other plans.” And Sasori loves the way
the man’s heart drops.

“Okay,”
the man says, sheepishly, as he scratches the back of his head. “My bad, maybe
another time?”

“Definitely.”
Definitely not.

Sasori
sees that no matter how cordial she plays herself to be, she only has her eyes
on one prize when it comes down to it. And that’s him. Although, he knows
that’s compliments of his manipulation, of his fabricated interest. It’s next to
impossible for her not to be captivated by his charm.

She’s
back at her desk now, and he stands right across from her, watching her, inspecting
her.

Something
about this woman drives him crazy, and not in a good way. This is
unprecedented. For a human to evade his temptation, a human who’s rightfully
eligible for damnation. It’s frustrating. But the more he watches her, the more
he focuses on her alluring voice and her alluring eyes, all he wants to do is
pick at her and see what makes her work, what makes her able to so easily fight
him.

~

The
next day, she asks him out. Sasori can sense the confliction in her mind as she
tries to convince herself that it’s not asking him out, more like asking him to
join her for a drink. Which by its very definition, is still like asking him
out. But she refuses to see it that way. 

It would be especially degrading if he
rejected the date—which again, she reminds herself that’s not what it is—but
fortunately for her, he doesn’t, not completely. He gives her a simple “I’ll see”

He
does enjoy her struggle though, watching the smooth façade break as she asks
him to meet up for coffee—or a drink, or “whatever
he wants really”.
So flustered.

But
she can’t let the awkwardness of the situation steer her away from her true
goal. Hopefully she can get him tipsy enough to actually let loose and give her
something. Obviously, for him to agree to this, there must be some interest
there. Even if he’s only entertaining her for the sake of neighborly
formalities or something like that. This is all assuming that he agrees to go
out with her, so she has one more thing to worry about.

Purposely
of course, he had run into her as he entered her apartment complex later that
night. There was an antsy aura all around her, and he could tell she was still
waiting for a definite answer.

“It was a long day at
work,”

she’d told him after he greeted her. “I’m
exhausted.”

He’d
read her, saw that she was waiting for him to mention their little date, hoping
he’d be thrown off knowing she might not be up for it anymore. He entertained
her just a little, even if the play at indifference was annoying. He’d teased
her, asked her if that meant she was blowing him off, and she took the
opportunity to assure him that she just needed to freshen up, and get
a little alcohol in her, then she’d be fine. That had definitely been said with
seduction playing on her lips.

And
now, sitting next to her at this bar that’s much too festive for his likings,
she’s really working for her objective. The fire in her eyes is blazing, and it
intrigues him because he knows there’s so much potential here. 

Her thoughts are
becoming garbled. She wants to retain composure, but she wants to test Sasori’s
tenacity at the same time. The idea of random encounters turning into something
more has always excited her. Something she’d read in cheesy romance novels and
cringed at because how does something like that work out so perfectly? Maybe she’s
experiencing that now. Even in this light—or lack of it, all she can focus on
is the enticing gleam in his eyes. The noise of the club keeps drowning out
because all she can focus on is his smooth voice when he talks and damn, this
is so weird, but too tempting not to chase.

“You
know, I think this is pretty funny,” she suddenly tells him. “I try to blind
you with pepper spray just a few days ago and you agree to come get a drink
with me. You’re either very forgiving or very attracted to me.”

He
hadn’t touched the drink on the bar in front of him. Alcohol never settled
right with him, though it is quite the tool when inciting mayhem. And she’s
proof that humans lose their modesty when inhibitions are scattered.

“We’ll
just say it’s both,” Sasori tells her. And he keeps it at that, because apparently
it’s enough to fire her up in more than one way. She gets this silky smile on
her face, and Sasori can’t help but watch her lips carefully as she takes a
drink from her glass.

He
scans the little club, feeling so many other potential fires, others that would
be easy to drag down in the state they were in. Avarice, need, lust. So easy to
manipulate. Which is why it’s suddenly disorienting that he can’t pull her
strings with that alone. It’s like she’s not ready. There has to be something more to tempt her before it’s an
easy drop into damnation.

“So
you don’t have a girlfriend or anything, do you?” she suddenly asks, staring
into the empty bottom of her glass. Sasori reads her sobriety and finds it’s
not moderate, but not as bad as she’s leading him to think. She has this dazed,
silly look on her face, the face of a typical drunk.

“No,
I don’t.” He takes his own glass in hand for good measure, before she starts
getting suspicious. “I assume you’re not seeing anyone.”

“Why
else would I be here with you?”

There’s
that smile again, a lopsided smile, but Sasori knows it’s fabricated.

Oh,
so she’s playing with him. Hiding her excitement and desperation under the guise
of being tipsy. It’s because she’s sure once she loosens up, he will too. But
she seems to completely miss that he really hasn’t taken a drink.

He
gives her a small smile in turn, a smile that he’s learned persuades the human
mind into relaxing, into temptation. It’s soft and beguiling, and she likes it.

Two
glasses later and she’s actually succumbing to the alcohol, but it’s a Friday,
and she has high tolerance, and she knows it won’t cloud any of her decisions.
Sasori knows that too. She might be trying to make it seem that way, but it’s
not true. It’s not working the way she wants it too though. He’s still just as
stoic, still hasn’t bothered to ask her name, and Sasori sees that’s the one
thing on her mind.

He’s
hoping he won’t get the chance to know it. He’s expecting this to end soon. The
less formalities, the less human semblance he experiences, and that’s what he
aims for.

“I
think that’s enough for one night,” she murmurs, just as she finishes the last
sip of her third drink.

He’d
been forced to use just a bit of his divine powers to alter her perception, just
to make it look like he’d been participating in the drinking. It seemed to ease
her mind, and excite her too.

He
doesn’t respond, just gives her a meaningful look meant to encourage her to
carry on. The more she talks, the more vulnerable she becomes. And maybe she’ll
suggest that they depart now, so he can get her alone and work on manipulating
her then. The dozens of other corrupt souls in this club are clouding his concentration,
and given she’s not that easy to tempt, he needs complete focus.

“Should
we leave?”

Ah,
the magic words. “If you think we should.”

“Yeah…
I’m a little worn out, and I think we should just head back to my place.” She’s
nervous, wondering if it’s too bold and wondering how it would look if his face
twisted into confusion and disgust, how it would look if he walked out on her.
The slur of her words is mostly forced, because drunk impulses don’t seem as shameful
as sober impulses, and it was definitely more of the latter.

“You
think so?”

Now
she’s anxious, and can’t quite decide whether it’s compliance or hesitance that
edges his voice. “Yeah.”

So
he nods, but says nothing. It sparks the hunger inside of her and she’s
suddenly too excited to hold it in. He sees her legs shift against each other,
sees the way her chest rises, inflated by anticipation. “Well, let’s go.”

Sasori
uses yet another sly perception to save himself from handling human money, and
as she unknowingly skips out on the bill, she wants to grab his arm and
practically pull him back to her apartment, but she refuses. She definitely
wants to touch him, the urge is almost too much, and blurry inhibitions aside,
it’s almost unbelievable just how eager she is.

The
entire walk back, she can’t keep her eyes off of him, but he doesn’t look at
her once. She’s already guessed by now that it’s just his nature, or maybe he’s
mentally preparing himself? Though she’s never heard of that. Someone so quick
to comply with impetuous urges should be a little more approachable, a little warmer,
she thinks. But again, that’s just how she is. And she definitely likes the aloof
demeanor.

He
keeps all of this in mind as they enter the complex and step into the elevator,
making sure his charm is amplified until no human would be able to at least
resist some temptation. It’s then that he thinks he can finish the job. A few
more seconds and he’ll have her lured deep enough that he can
take hold of her will power, force just enough malevolent ideas into her until
she’s fair game and he can take her. 

As for precautions, the elevator cameras
won’t catch anything that he doesn’t want them to. His human form will be imperceptible.
There will be no trace of him. Her lifeless body will simply sink to the
ground, while her soul goes with him.

The
elevator moves and he reads her, but nothing changes. She’s still bordering
good and bad, stuck in a frustrating limbo. Her flame is fierce but it’s not enough. He’s confused, thinks maybe that
it hasn’t completely registered yet, but even when she drifts closer to him and
runs a hand down his chest, he can’t grab her soul.

He
tries again, tries projecting something malicious into her that will catch her
off guard. Shit, he doesn’t even care if she’s terrified of whatever he sends
in, he just needs her defense lowered. It doesn’t make sense. His charm has
worked, that’s obvious. She’s easy to tempt but not easy to break. This isn’t
something he’s experienced before.

Her
hands are at his sides now, tugging him a bit closer as she draws near. The
feeling of her touching his body, this human body, is so different, so unlike
anything he’s used to. He doesn’t hate it, but he doesn’t like it either. It’s
just wrong.

There’s
a sultry, dazed smile on her face. The flame in her eyes is right in front of
him and before he can think of what to do, she presses her lips against his.
And that’s something he doesn’t like. It startles him and he recoils just
slightly. 

Luckily, his expression remains calm. It retains some of the
mysterious and immobile demeanor that he knows she likes.

This
is irritating, but all the more reason for him to continue with his task. If
he doesn’t get her, then this will all have been futile. And though he hates
wasting time, he’d rather complete the mission out of spite, no matter how long
it seems like it’s going to take.

Besides,
he can feel she’s losing her focus. Right before the elevator reaches her
floor, she places one more hard kiss on his lips and he doesn’t stop her.

Grabbing
the collar of his shirt, she tugs him out and heads to her apartment. He
definitely doesn’t like how she’s handling him like this, though he knows it’s
part of the process. To break her down, he needs to build her up first. And if
it means allowing her to take the reins, then he’ll momentarily endure it, even
though the thought of a human becoming so domineering disgusts him.

She
doesn’t even bother turning the lights on when she brings them both into her apartment.
Sasori clears his head for the moment to focus on tempting her, to make sure
he’s still as alluring as can be to this woman. Her hands are on him again, on
his arms, on his chest, on his neck. She pulls him down for a deep kiss, and it
takes a moment to adjust, but he mirrors her movements in spite of the growing contempt.

Before
he knows it, she’s pulling him to the couch and they fall at the edge. He lands
on top of her, and he feels the press of her warm body, feels the lust
practically radiating from her body.

She’s
thinking of a multitude of things, things he’s sure humans usually think about at
this time. She’s hoping that she won’t embarrass herself in some way, wonders
how big he is, wonders if he’s going
to bring up the topic of protection, or if she’ll have to sheepishly mention
that she’s on the pill.

He
doesn’t ask. It only makes the fire in her stir harder with apprehension. 

She’s
grinding up into him now and he almost jerks away. What’s supposed to be human
pleasure is new to him, so he doesn’t know how to adjust. He’s never had to go
this far before to capture a soul, and it’s a little humiliating to fall to
human endeavors.

With
every little gyration of her hips, he tries hard to dig in and grab onto
anything that will give him leverage to grab her soul, but there’s still
nothing significant enough. Hunger wracks her brain, but that tends to be most
humans, and it’s still not enough.

“This
isn’t too fast for you, is it?” she breathes.

He
thinks that’s a stupid question. Of course it is, by human standards, he
thinks. But he knows humans don’t abide by their own standards, and this is
hardly uncommon. But the fact she’s asking, and that there’s a nervous
apprehension in her mind, lets him know she genuinely wants to make sure he’s consenting.

He
just shakes his head. “Not at all.” He projects a feigned desperation—an impatient need into her mind, leading her to think
his lack of words is simply a consequence of his growing arousal. And it works.

Suddenly
her hand is sliding beneath them and she rubs his crotch. He exhales sharply,
and hadn’t realized until then that he didn’t really need to project anything
into her mind. His body reacted in full to her ministrations. He becomes painfully
aware of the bulge in his pants, and hates that he’s in this position.

She
continues to rub him, adding fuel to the fire flourishing in his body.

All
the while she’s still kissing him, trying to press her tongue into his mouth,
and he relaxes to let her do so. It’s an odd sensation, he doesn’t understand the appeal. He doesn’t really understand most of this, it seems
messy and rushed and too much.

Now
she’s yearning for his touch, and he reluctantly obliges. He starts by running his
hands down her sides and ventures further until he can grip her ass in a firm hold.
She practically squeals into his mouth, and he wants to grimace because wow,
humans are easy to excite. But he continues.

“I
need this off,” she whispers, using her thumb to tug at his waistband. The
pressure against his crotch is harder now, and she reaches for the zipper of
his pants to quickly pull it down. 

Sasori’s mind is cluttered, because he’d be
lying if he said this wasn’t his first time. Demons don’t worry about this sort
of thing, and though it’s not unheard of when it comes to tempting them, he
abhorred the idea of ever resorting to this. It’s just so… confusing.

His
fingers venture just a bit further around until he can reach under and rub over
her cotton pants to work her clit. She gasps and breathes hot air into his face
when she exhales a shaky moan. She writhes against him, trying to find the
perfect angle to get his fingers right where she wants them. 

That, she doesn’t
have to worry about. He knows she wants it just a little harder and just a
little lower so he does it, and wonders if the alluring, unadulterated moan she
lets out is telling of how close he’s getting to taking her.

“Sasori,”
she breathes his name, and his motions falter. She struggles to speak under
moans and small whimpers. “I really like that name…”

He
doesn’t care. He’s reaching for any opening that he can, he feels like it’s so
close. Then she leans closer and whispers into his ear.

“My
name is ______.”

And
that’s not something he ever wanted to know.

Up until now, he’d made sure to suppress her urges so she wouldn’t ever tell him that. But his mind and body are currently occupied. It’s then that he realizes he’s
never revealed his name to a human before. So to hear it fall from her lips is
unnerving. But he’s angry. This is becoming much too intimate for him, and almost
not worth dragging her soul down.

The
second he tries to gauge the flame in her eyes, he sees she’s much more
susceptible than she’s been all night, and he jumps at the opportunity.

He
lets his aura surround her and he can sense the new spark of adrenaline in her
body, and waits for the opening that he needs to finish the job. But as she
palms his erection it’s difficult to concentrate. He has half the mind to curse
at her to stop, to terrify her, like a demon should. But he can’t. He can’t even tell if his projection
is working because her hand is too insistent.

The
rush of influence definitely backfires when she slips a hand into his pants and
presses her warm palm right against his sensitive skin. He doesn’t react, tries
to stay as indifferent as possible, because this sensation is still unsettling
and he doesn’t know how to quell the fire in his lower body.

She
strokes his hardening cock, pressing her thumb against the head and liking the
way his body stiffens.

Why
isn’t this shit working? The closer he gets, the easier it should be to manipulate
her will and morality, but no. Damn it. Though odd given his current
predicament and the way she’s suddenly stroking his cock, he thinks of that
idiot Deidara. Manipulation is an art,
he always says. And Sasori doesn’t know how he’s even able to tempt souls when he’s
so ridiculous and naive. But Sasori wonders if he’s ever been in this situation
before, wonders if any other demon has ever found themselves tempted under the
willpower of a human.

She
presses her entire palm flat down on his hot length and he actually groans, an
actual groan that sounds so afflicted with human lust. She runs it up and down
twice before removing her hand completely, and Sasori doesn’t understand his utter frustration at the absence of her hand.

After
reaching for the hem of her shirt she pulls it off and flings it to the side.
Sasori catches the smallest gust of air and the smell of her sweet perfume
floods his senses. And it’s quite enticing. 

A second later her bra is off too,
and she’s lying beneath him, skin practically glowing under the pale moonlight
slipping through her curtains.

Sasori
blinks. This is a human, a woman, exposing herself to him in a way that he doesn’t
quite understand.

Well,
he understands it. He knows better than anyone how lust incites the human brain
into a frenzy, but it’s different experiencing it first-hand.

And
speaking of hands, she’s returned to her earlier ministrations without delay, using one
to stroke him faster now, while the other tugs at his shirt and pants. “Please.”

Her
brain is on fire. She’s so eager, and Sasori doesn’t know if catering her lust
will yield better results than refraining so he can frustrate her. But he
chooses the prior because something says that’s the better, more pleasing
option.

He
throws off his shirt, tugs down his pants and—boxers apparently. He’d hardly
noticed how exactly he dressed this human body, he’d merely mirrored a man he
found on the street. That realization makes this even more confusing because he
wonders if his human body actually looks
different from his true form. Whether he’s impressive or not, isn’t much of a
question, since her mind is completely occupied with the weight of his cock in
her hand, and she drinks up the sight of it with gratification.

Now
she wants him to undress the rest of her body, so he practically shoves the
pants down her legs, followed by her soaked underwear.

He
doesn’t know what impulse or strategizing guides him, but the second he glances
between her legs and see the we mess that awaits him, he presses a finger
against her clit and runs it down her heat. 

She mewls, so caught with the force
of her arousal that she again puts a pause to her stroking. It doesn’t
frustrate him as much as it interests him. She’s falling so fast,
and it reminds him of how easy it should be to just take her. But by this time,
he’s realized it’s going to take work. It has to happen soon. There’s no way
the barricade around her will is so strong that she’d be able to resist him in full.

He
presses his thumb against her clit and rubs in small circles, using the other
finger to gently rake his nails up and down her folds. She shivers and
practically whines, and he watches her facial expression intently, quietly. 

His
demeanor, contradicting the dispute going on inside his mind, is very bleak.
It’s surprising that it hasn’t discourage her yet, but she’s too far gone in
the pleasure to notice. He
studies what she’s thinking, what she wants. Nothing in particular, just more
pleasure, more of him. That’s a good
sign, he thinks.

“Sasori,”
she whines, thrusting her body upward every so often to put more pressure right
where she wants it. Her hand goes back to work again, but with half
the effort. Sasori’s working wonders on her body, all demonic influence
aside, and she’s losing herself in a dangerous way. Of course she’s concerned
that this man is almost a complete stranger, but this is definitely fulfilling
the curiosity that followed all those fantasy romance novels. She didn’t ever
think it would be this good.

It’s
only a few more seconds before she can’t settle with just foreplay anymore, and
she shifts around to widen the angle of her legs until she’s lewdly exposed to
him. He stops his rubbing before she tells him to, knowing already what she’s
expecting now.

He
didn’t really think, or hope, that it would go this far, but his rationality is failing him. He’s going to blame that on some other circumstance beyond his repair for
now. If what she’s hoping to progress into doesn’t finally make her soul easy to claim, then she must not
be human.

“Sasori,”
she murmurs his name, and the seduction practically falls from her lips. That’s
what he’s focusing on now, her lips, looking surprisingly tempting in the
shadow of the room. It’s then he becomes aware of the lingering scent of alcohol,
which nauseates him, but he ignores it for now.

“_____.”
That’s what she wanted to hear this entire time, her name coming out of his
mouth, no matter how dull, so he obliges.

That
rush of dark influence is still radiating from his body but it’s only done more
harm than good up to this point. He can see the fire
in her eyes again as she grasps his sides and nudges him closer in between her
legs.

“I
need you inside me.”

It’s
so lewd, so typical of a human. So tempting. He offers her a small smirk,
and sweeps his eyes over her body, making sure she sees it, and she moans.

He
doesn’t offer her a response to what she’s said, he just takes his cock from her
eager hands and slowly pushes himself inside.

She
moans at the fit, wondering if it’s wrong of her to be so entranced with this man. It’s astonishing.

She’s
tight, her insides are gripping him fiercely and that’s the most harrowing
sensation he’s felt all night. He makes a struggled sound from low in his
throat as he tries to adjust, as he tries to decide whether he’s frustrated or intrigued.

“You feel
so good, Sasori,” she whines, arching her body upward to press him in
deeper. He grunts as she does it, stilling his own movement so he can settle
with being all the way inside of her. She’s clutching at his shoulders now,
pressing her nails a little too brutally into his skin. “So good…“

He
studies her face, tries to watch for any change in the fire, but
she shuts her eyes tight and lets out a hard moan as her hips thrust up of their
own accord. It catches him off guard but he makes no sound this time, already
having acclimated to the tightness, and choosing to remain as impassive as
possible.

There’s
an urge to restrain movement all together, to just let her work her way on his
cock like she wants. It would mean less exertion on his part, and he could focus
more on manipulating her, though it looks like her tight heat will tug his
concentration no matter what she does.

He
decides it might be better that he take control so he can pace himself. He
grasps her hips and drives into her, pulling his cock out just until just the head,
then diving in again. Her entire body shakes with each thrust in, and Sasori’s
actually entranced with the tight expression on her face.

He
tries to concentrate on that instead of the tight squeeze of her walls around
him. It’s too unbearable to ignore. She feels so incredibly tight and he has to
wonder if this is even normal.

He
must hit a spot that feels particularly good because her body jolts, and all
that’s running through her head is again
again again please!
Taking the opportunity, he doesn’t hesitate to repeat
the exact movement.

“Like
that,” she moans, and it tapers off into something like a squeal.

His
hands settle farther up her sides, pressing fingers into the soft skin. He
grunts without warning when some odd sensation takes over his body.

His
hips continue their movements, thrusting into her a little faster than before,
chasing that sensation. It’s dark and heated, and it has to be his charm
working. He can feel her relaxing, falling, submitting. The harder he drives
into her, it’s like a part of her conscience descends. It’s something
similar to what he’s used to when he tempts souls from below, but it’s heightened
by the way her insides seem to suck him in every time he pulls out.

And
he can’t wrap his head around how wet
she is. It makes the slide of his cock even smoother and much more pleasurable.
But it’s quite messy, annoyingly so. This is the epitome of getting his
hands dirty.

She
bites her lip and groans, staring up at him with big, needy eyes as his thrusts
find a perfect rhythm.

He
returns the intense gaze, but there’s no decipherable affection, or indifference.
He’s focusing on her reactions, on her strength. It’s imperative to take note
of what tempts her the most, what’s pushing her soul past the limits of
salvation.

She
whines out his name again and it does something to his body. She isn’t reserved.
She’s not holding anything back, which is fortunate for him in that he barely
has to read her to know that he’s working her right.

"Fuck,”
she murmurs, and her eyes move away from his to look down and watch him slide
in and out.

He
follows her gaze, watching his rigorous movements, and noting that her mind is
mess of heat and desperation and excitement.

The
room fills with sounds of her exasperated sighs and sharp cries of
pleasure, accompanied by a very rare hard grunt on his part. He can’t deny that
it’s very erotic, and he’s beginning to understand where the appeal comes from,
understands why this is what weakens humans so easily.

He
convinces himself that the good that will come out of this strenuous mission will
be knowledge and experience, something to guide him in the future while
tempting humans.

The
sound of her whimpering brings him back to the present and he inadvertently
drives deeper and harder inside of her. When
she wraps her legs around him and presses her heels into his back, the added
pressure makes that sensation flare throughout his body again. 

This is it.
She’s relenting now, letting him in. It’s almost a clear path to her damnation
and he knows this is finally going to pay off.

He
pants for a moment after the heat boils over, then quickly regains his
composure.

"I’m
so close,” she whispers up at him.

And
so is he. It’s exciting to be this close to taking her. This has taken far too long. He could have gathered
a hundred souls during the time it’s taken him to grab her.

It’s
that uncanny anger that drives his next few thrusts, shoving her closer and
closer to the edge. She tightens around his cock, her legs trembling and chest
rising and falling.

The
squeeze of her insides is incredible and he groans just a little, knowing
this human body can only withstand so much before he has to give in to some pleasure. But it’s the excitement
of knowing that’s most satisfying, knowing he’s so close to getting to her.
The heat in her body is just as hot as the fire in her eyes, wide and searching
his in desperation.

Just
a little more. All he needs is just a little more, so he obliges to the salacious
desires in her mind and tells her what she wants to hear.

"Come,”
he rasps, eyes intense, hunger for her soul unimaginable. “Now.”

The
hands on his shoulders clench, fingernails stinging as they dig into his skin. ”Yes! Sasori—I’m… Shit!“

The
orgasm rattles her entire body. Her inner walls clench around him too hard and
it’s such an amazing feeling.

He
feels like it’s so close, so close that the anticipation mingles with the heat
in his body. He’s about to grasp the weakness he needs and then he’ll finally
get her—

And
then he’s coming with a strained groan, his body reacting in spite of itself, and pleasure floods him in an odd way. His muscles strain, he shudders lightly.

In
that moment his eyes flash with something quite inhuman, and she catches it.
Sasori senses the fleeting confusion in her and gathers his wits, forcing his mind to
focus on her demeanor, to see if he had finally completed his task.

But
no such luck. Still nothing. Nothing at all. At
most he’s pressed closer to the barricade, but he can’t break it.

She
thinks what she’s just seen is a trick of the eye, and blames it on the frenzied
aftermath of her orgasm. She looks at him, wants to enjoy the afterglow by
staring straight into that beautiful, soft face of his, but he looks tense.

He’s
enraged. How the hell did that not stoop her down low, to nothing? What the
hell is this? She can’t be some damn angel, some divine entity and he just
hadn’t noticed, could she? This isn’t possible. To resist his temptation from
below is one thing, but to resist it while he’s literally fucking her? What the
hell else could be going wrong?

He
thinks she whispers his name, and then pulls him down so she can bury her head
in the crook of her neck.

Elation,
intimacy, fulfillment. It all clouds her mind and it’s difficult for
Sasori to tell what’s blocking him from getting her. It has to be something holy,
something he can’t combat even with his power. It makes his head spin.

As
she lies beneath him, blinded by the fabricated intimacy that makes her so
comfortable and safe, she doesn’t know why he’s so reticent. But she knows
that’s how he is, and she thinks the fact he even let her finish and worked her
to orgasm should be telling that he’d been invested.

She’s
had more than her share of bland men who just finish, roll over, and wake up
way past noon the next morning before scrambling out. But something’s different about Sasori. Something
dark, and that definitely excites her. Something dark and erotic and
mysterious. And though she’s concerned that this might not progress past what’s
just happened, she doesn’t feel guilty about basking with him right now.

Sasori
wonders if the others are watching him, finding amusement in his predicament.
He wouldn’t be surprised, and has to wonder why he’s not strangling her right
now, why he’s not blowing caution into the wind and overwhelming her with pure
demonic presence.

He
could give up, too. But there’s something holding him back.

Temptation is betraying him, and he’s especially susceptible to
her charm when she looks at him so earnestly, so intently. What the hell is
this woman? What is she doing to him?

He really does love a challenge, though this is looking more
like an impossible task. Still, it’s oddly compelling. He was sure that he’d
have no patience at this point, but if anything, he’s considering tolerance—mercy. All because this is the most eventful
situation he’s found in decades, and it might possibly remain that way for the rest of his
ridiculously long life.

There has to be something to this woman’s strength, and frustration
aside, he can settle with that acknowledgement without too much resentment.

And he decides to take a different approach to this now, dipping
down to kiss her softly but quickly, and pulling back to watch her smile, to watch the fire simmer
in a captivating way. 

It’s just a matter of time before he figures her out. He’s not going to give up until he does, until he can claim her soul. It’s his job, after all.

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