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cherry waves / hayakawa aki

Aki is undeniably, wholeheartedly in love with you, and there's nowhere he tells you he loves you more than right here, in his bed, when you're under him.

cherry waves - deftones

all my love to @kentoangel for giving me the inspiration to make this fic!!!! ilysmmmmm!!!!!!!!!! 💗

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 6.1k

tags: 18+, smut, fluff, fingering, cunnilingus, tender sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, smoking, established relationship, lots and lots of i love you's, soft dom aki

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

Aki is undeniably, wholeheartedly in love with you. 

He tells you every single day. Before he goes to work, he leaves a note on the fridge: There's cash on the coffee table if you want to go out and treat yourself. Have a good day baby. I love you. :) His handwriting is neat, sleek, and formal, like him personified with pen, but when he gets to the I love you, the letters seem to become a bit messier. He scribbles them nervously, as if he feels a little embarrassed about writing it, about seeing the words on the paper, tangible and real. Regardless, you pluck the note off the fridge and keep it in your drawer, alongside the hundreds of others he's written for you. 

With his voice, he asserts it even more. When he manages to get a break at work, he steps aside to call you for as long as he can, even if it's only for a few minutes. He tells you he loves you before he hangs up the phone, says how much he misses you while admiring the polaroid of you in his wallet. I think about you every second that I'm here. I can't wait to come home to you. 

He'll profess his love in the late hours of the night, limbs tangled with yours under the sheets, while he holds you close to his chest. He litters your forehead with the lightest, most delicate of kisses, as though you're made of porcelain beneath his lips. The words are uttered drowsily, like they're heavy in his throat, and he whispers them over and over again, as if his fondness is spilling over, uncontained. You're already fast asleep in his arms by now, so his I love you's fade into the darkness, but perhaps you'll end up hearing them in your dreams. 

It slips off of his tongue again when he shares lunch with you. He takes an orange from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, peels it, pulls the pieces clean apart. There's an odd number of slices. He gives you the extra one. The citrus tastes sweet on his tongue, just as sweet as what falls from his lips. God, I love you so much, you know that? It catches you a bit off guard when he says it out of no-where, but before you can ask him where his sudden remark came from, he's shutting you up with a kiss that tastes sugar-coated. 

He's just lucky to have you. Lucky and oh-so grateful to share both his life and his love. This quiet scene, shared between only the two of you: it's simple, but he's never felt more alive. Aki is finally able to live how he's always wanted, enjoying the most mundane of moments with the one he genuinely loves, who loves him just as much. 

If he is the moon — cold, monochrome, and stormy — then you're definitely the sun, shining like rays of daybreak light and eternally warm like a summer's heatwave. In a world of devils, of heartache and the bitter taste of blood, you would be his idea of an angel. 

He's still not sure if he even deserves this, nor does he understand how someone like him got so damn fortunate. And it's cheesy, but he wouldn't trade this life for any other, or for anything in the universe. He just wishes he got the chance to meet you, to cherish you and this life, so, so much sooner. 

All he can do now is make the most of it, tell you he's in love with you in as many sentences as he can possibly fit it into, kiss you until his lips are bruising, promise you, I'll stay with you, for as long as this world will allow. Cross my heart and hope to die, my love. 

There's nowhere else he belongs but here. His arms belong wrapped around you, his lips belong on yours, he longs to be as intertwined with you as possible. There's nothing he wants to say more than your name and infinite chants of I love you, I love you, I love you. 

And there's nowhere Aki tells you he loves you more than right here, in his bed, when you're under him. The phrase is whispered in your ear, warm and true, the slightest bit shaky. "You're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I'm so in love with you." He says the words softly, but in your chest, they feel like the intense blaze and explosion of a sky filled with fireworks. 

A vinyl spins and spins in the humble record player, and the speakers play a song. The low music resounds in harmony with the soft pitter-patter of rain. Droplets blanket the tin roof above and then tap gently against the window. Silk curtains are pulled slightly ajar, and blurry, fluorescent lights from the city shine through fogged up glass, illuminating the dim room. 

His clothes and yours lie in a heap on the floor. He slipped off his oxfords at the door, shed his suit jacket over the couch. You loosened his tie and tossed it aside, popped each button on his dress shirt, unfastened his belt and his zipper to pull down his slacks. You reached into his hair and tugged on his hairtie until it came free from the topknot and the dark strands fell around his face. 

He pulled your pants down and off of your legs, then hooked his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. He kissed you through the fabric, grinning when your legs shivered, before taking them off, leaving you in only the shirt you were wearing.  

The album playing is one Aki picked out. The music itself is a bit grungy, maybe even a little out-of-style, but it's one of your favorite bands, and since it's your favorite, it became his too. He plays the cassette you gave him in the car when he drives, listens to the record on loop when you're gone because it always reminds him of you. 

Strands of his hair tickle your face when he places a tender kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, your jaw, and finally your lips, where he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger to drag you in closer. He doesn't want to pull away, and so he lingers for far longer than necessary, kissing you softly, effortlessly. 

Your arms wrap around him, and you hold the back of his head with one hand, trail your fingers down his back with the other, and trace the scars that are littered between his shoulder blades. His hands find your thighs and he grips them carefully, slowly spreading them apart. 

He pulls away to pepper your neck with kisses and playful nibbles of his teeth, his lips unable to stay off of you. His fingers trail up, under your shirt, and on your chest, below your ribcage, his fingertips trace shapes onto your skin. It tingles when he draws circles, hearts, spells out the letters of his name with a feather-light touch, wishing he could engrave them in. If he could, he'd cover every last inch of you with his own being, until there's unmistakable proof that he was there, that he's in love with you. For now, the hickeys he's leaving on your nape will have to do. 

"So gorgeous," He mutters against your skin, words muffled, breath hot. "God, I just adore you." His voice is deep, quiet, as smooth as the velvet sheets and as familiar as the guitar riff you've long since memorized in this song.

When Aki leans back, there's a faint grin on his face, and the kindest look in his eyes. Just looking into them makes you feel like you're drowning in warmth. It's hard to recall when you first met him, it feels like forever ago. His gaze was so cold and frigid then, but now, it's taken on a much softer hue. 

Aki dotes on the fact that you're wearing nothing but his own shirt. It's one of his old t-shirts that you dug out from his dresser, and it's a baggy fit, but it looks beautiful on you, he thinks. His palms glide under it, caressing your bare skin. From this view, you look stunning. The way you're laid back on his pillow, arms sprawled out with hands upturned, you look absolutely darling, like a dose of fathomable heaven. 

Your senses are filled with the smell of his sheets, his clothing, and his laundry detergent. His cigarettes, his room, just the smell of him, it makes your head spin, and you melt into the comfort and familiarity of it all. You reach up to tuck his messy hair behind his ears, fiddling with the piercings on his lobes as his hands travel down. The glint in his earrings capture the hazy glow of the city lights. 

His hands reach your hips and he holds them tight, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles on your skin. He lifts them, aligns you, takes a deep breath. His heart pounds with anticipation, but he looks to you, asks if you're ready first, and only when you nod does he continue. With a hard swallow that makes his Adam's apple bob in his throat, then a fragile gasp and whine, he steadily presses inside you. 

You're so wet from the hours Aki spent teasing you before this, and so messy from the countless times you've came already for him. The inside of your thighs are shiny and glistening, covered with the love bites and pretty bruises he left there. 

It's on nights like these where Aki not only tells you how much he loves you, but shows you. He pleasures you all night long, until you've cum over and over again for him. Until morning light starts to seep through the blinds, and you're too tired to continue, falling asleep in his arms after the waves of pleasure subside. 

Earlier, he made you cum on his fingers, one hand holding his cigarette, the other nestled between your legs. He takes a drag in from the cig, tilting his head to exhale the smoke away from you, all while his middle finger runs up and down your pussy. He gets it wet with your slick before slowly pressing it inside, all the way to the knuckle. He drags it in and out, in and out, and when you buck your hips to meet his hand, he adds another. 

His ring finger stretches you out deliciously, and once it's all the way in, you can feel the cool metal of his promise ring pressed up against your entrance. 

It rests on the base of his finger: a modest, silver band. You wear a similar one, but yours is adorned with a bright, glittering diamond. He saved all his paychecks for months, surprising you with the matching set on your anniversary. Since then, he never takes it off, his promise to be yours anchored to him wherever he goes. 

He'll replace them someday; he's going to ask you to marry him in the future, and he's already convinced himself of it. He hopes you'll take his last name. There's no-one in the world he trusts more with the Hayakawa surname than you, and no-one else he'd rather pass it on to. Giving you that piece of himself would be a blessing. 

Aki's hands are so large and so pretty, big enough to eclipse your own when he holds them, or to cup your entire face with his palm like it's what he was meant to do. And his fingers are perfect; they're so long and slender, and they feel so good as he fucks you with them. You gasp when he curls them upwards, and his lips can't help but form a smile around his cigarette. 

You're always so receptive to his touch. You still giggle every time he kisses the back of your hand or the tip of your nose. Your heart still pounds when he embraces you, when his eyes lock with yours for too long. You fall apart for him every time, just as easily as the first. 

He finds it endearing, and he can't help but want to please you more and more, give you all of his affection. He stamps his cigarette out into the ashtray resting on the nightstand, abandoning it to put his full attention on you, whispering the most divine words into your ear. 

Listen to how wet you are. It feels good, right? Tell me it feels good.

He pumps his fingers in and out to a careful, tender rhythm. He makes sure to press them in enough so that each time, you feel the cold edges of his ring. 

Oh, baby, are you close? Don't hold back, I want you to cum for me. 

Aki can feel you tightening around his fingers. He notices your breathing picking up and your body starting to tense. He drags his fingers out and brings them to your clit, where he rubs tight circles, just how you like, in the way that always brings you to the edge for him time and time again. 

That's it. You're so beautiful when you cum, sweetheart. You make me want you so bad. 

Your thighs are sore, and your whole body is trembling, but Aki holds you close while you come down. You can go one more time for me, can't you, baby? Of course, when he asks you that, the answer is always going to be yes. 

He's dying to taste you, and so he makes you cum again, on his tongue this time. He plants open-mouthed kisses on your stomach, your hips, your thighs, onto every bone, mole, and soft spot his lips can find. Raise your hips a little for me, He instructs, sliding his arms under your thighs when you do so, There you go. Can you spread your legs a bit more for me too? 

He laps up the mess, presses his tongue in, fucks you with it. The rich flavor of his cigarettes still lingers in the back of his throat, and your sweet taste combined with it makes him feel delirious. 

He buries his face between your legs, his nose nudging at your clit, and he groans into your cunt when you run your fingers through his hair and pull him in. He kisses your clit with soft lips, licks it with the flat length of his tongue, takes it into his mouth and sucks on it hard. You're so pretty, he mumbles, but you hardly hear it. Your legs wrap around his head, and he doesn't stop until you're cumming for him again. 

Making you cum, listening to your pretty moans, watching you fall apart to his touch, it gets him so hard. His dick aches, throbs ceaselessly in his briefs, leaks out where it rests thick and heavy against his thigh. His mind goes foggy with lust, and he can feel the pure and utter want for you burning in his veins, settling in the cavity of his chest.

There's something about you that always makes him want more, makes him crave you, and causes him to desire everything you're willing to let him have. It's insatiable. He wants to be inside you so bad he can hardly stand it, but honestly, he could get off on just this alone. 

He could do this all night, surely. He always puts your pleasure above his own, and he would worship your body forever, make each curve and dip into his form of a prayer, if you'd only let him. He'll make you cum as many times as you can take, and as many times as you want. Whatever you want him to do, he'll do it for you. However much you want him to give, he'll give you even more. At your request, he'd give you every last part of himself. 

But on nights like this, even when your eyelids are heavy and threatening to shut, you need more of him. You want to be closer, so even when you're spent, you always end up begging him please, Please, Aki. I want you to fuck me. He wants it just as badly, if not more, and when you ask him like that, how can he resist? He'll always give you exactly what you ask for. 

His cock is thick and so fucking pretty, a perfect stretch when he fills you up. Aki takes his time, eases into you slowly, and you savor every single inch of him. The sight of his dick pressing inside you is damn near intoxicating, and he wouldn't be able to tear his gaze away if he tried. His pupils are blown, eyes glazed over, and his lips are slightly parted, quivering. 

When he's finally all the way in, you can feel his dick in your stomach, and he groans, pulling you in even closer by your waist. He hasn't even moved yet, and his head is already spinning. He waited so long for this, ended up teasing himself just as much as he teased you, and you're so tight around his cock, the feeling might consume him. He doesn't think he'll be able to last long, but he'll try. 

"Oh, fu-uck, baby-" Aki's voice cracks into a moan as he starts to fuck you, echoing a wet sound when he rolls his hips out, then presses back in deeply. He mumbles, "You feel so amazing, I love you. God, I love you." 

Before you can tell him you love him too, his lips come crashing onto yours. He kisses you slowly, at first, but he can't help himself from wanting to indulge in you further. Your lips feel like all he could ever need as they mesh with his. Then, he's kissing you deeply, breathlessly, like he can't get enough. He sucks on your tongue, sighing when he thrusts into you. He buries his cock in deeper just to feel you moan more into his mouth. Your hands thread through his hair, holding it back, keeping it out of his face. 

Honestly, the feeling itself isn't what turns you on the most. It's knowing that he is the one fucking you, Aki's dick is inside you. Aki, whose cold exterior you broke past, whose heartache you managed to cure. Aki, who deserves so much more than what the world has given him, who is nothing like what people say about him. 

Aki, who keeps his arm linked with yours while he makes dinner, trying out new recipes to find which one you like the best. Who wipes the tears from under your eyes with his thumbs, who gives you his jacket when it's cold outside, who still blushes when your knee bumps his in public, who makes you feel completely and utterly safe with him. Aki, who kisses you just like this, like the world is going to end. 

The way Aki loves is intense, but tender. It's exhilarating, but sincere. It never fails to take your breath away, yet still feels like a home you can return to. The kind of love that grounds you, but not without allowing you to fall for him more and more. The kind of love that's purposeful in everything, because in every possible instance, you're the one he wants, and the one he needs. You, and only you. 

When he draws away from you, his lips are ghosting on yours, and he whispers it again, "I love you," voice just barely audible over the music and the downpour. He pulls back further, reaches a hand into his messy hair to brush it out of his face, then cups your cheek. You lean into his warmth, his touch. You can feel the outline of his ring, and he has a stupid grin on his face when he mumbles, "Look at you. So beautiful, and you're all mine. How did I get so lucky?" It's true, but really, he's all yours — so hopelessly addicted to you. 

Aki makes love to you softly, almost lazily. It's sweet and passionate, and gives you a chance to enjoy the atmosphere and every little detail of it all. Aki's cheeks are flushed, his eyelashes flutter, and his chest heaves with every ragged breath he takes in. His moans are loud and needy, each roll of his hips deliberate, never too hard, because he knows how to make you cum without the need to be rough. 

Every time he shoves his cock in, it sends blood rushing to his head, and with each drag out, he whines from the pressure. He's sweating, and he grabs your shirt to hastily tug it up. Not enough to take it off, just enough to expose your chest to him. 

The storm is picking up now, and the rain has grown to a loud, universal drum as it pours from the sky. The record player is still going, vinyl spinning idly as it plays the next song on the album. Aki fucks you through it, nearly to the rhythm, but he isn't paying attention to the music. He's just focused on you. The ambience is drowned out by the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and Aki's voice in your ear. 

"So good," Aki slurs, and one of his hands grips your waist, while the other finds yours to hold it tightly, your fingers interlaced with his. "You take my cock so well." 

"Aki… I..." You stammer out, unable to say much more than that. 

"Yeah?" Aki stops completely, giving you a second to breathe. He leans in a little closer, studies your face, and quietly asks, "What is it, baby? What do you want?" 

"Want you deeper, I want you to fuck me more, please-"

"Shit," Aki sighs, clearly losing his composure for a second. He already had an idea of what you were going to ask for, but he still absolutely loves when you beg for him. He exhales a shaky breath, "Okay, baby, okay." 

Aki's pace quickens a little, and he presses his body closer to yours, desperate to get himself even deeper inside. He's gasping, finding it difficult to breathe as he fucks into you harder, with less of his deliberate movements, and more of his own desperation. He's losing control, little by little, with each thrust and each noise he pulls out of you. You wrap your arms around him, and it's like he's falling into you. 

All it took was that little bit of extra speed, shoving his cock in deeper, harder, and your heavenly moans and cries into his ear for him to be just barely hanging onto the edge. You feel good, way too good. Too perfect, and he's too vulnerable, linked inseparably with you. 

"Oh my God, I c-can't, you feel so- fuck, fucking amazing," He stammers, barely able to get the words out, moaning after every unsteady thrust into you as he begins to lose his rhythm. His high-pitched whines are a perfect contrast to the deep vibrato of his voice. "I can't, baby, I'm so close, I'm gonna cum-" 

He's trying so much to hold out, but he's so needy, and it's made evident by his moans and the love-drunk expression on his face when he leans back to look at you. His eyebrows are knitted, his lips are parted, and he's flushed red, all the way to the tips of his ears. Despite how badly he wants it, he thinks he might be able to keep going for a little while longer, but when you start begging for him to let go, to cum for you, he's done for. 

He gives you a couple more desperate thrusts before he pulls out, panting hard, and his dick throbs in his hand as he jerks it. He whines your name as his cum spills out all over your pussy, your stomach, and your thighs. All over his own trembling fingers and down his knuckles, making his hand sticky and messy. 

Aki takes a moment to catch his breath. Strands of hair stick to his forehead from his sweat and he does his best to brush them away. He glides two fingers through the mess on your stomach, then collects what drips down your thighs, before bringing them to your mouth. You open before he has to tell you to, and he smears his cum all over your tongue. You suck on his slender fingers and twirl your tongue around his whole hand, licking up every last drop. 

"That's it," Aki praises, exhaling a shaky sigh, "Such a good girl for me. You made me feel so fucking good, baby." 

You hum around his fingers in response. 

He's close to collapsing, his whole body covered in a blanket of exhaustion, but his focus is on you. He's still so damn hard, already dribbling pre-cum out all over your soft stomach. And he's still so eager to please you, still so desperate to have you. Watching you take his fingers just reignited that feeling. 

Aki takes his fingers out, and they're wet with your own saliva when he grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks. He swallows, and the way his normally resolute voice wavers implies that he's the slightest bit nervous when he admits, "I still need you." 

"I need you too. Please."

The tip of his dick is sensitive, to the point where just pressing it to your entrance makes him whine and briefly falter. He strokes up the length, trying to get himself used to the stimulation, swiping his palm over the tip to smear the shaft with his pre-cum. He doesn't want to make you wait for too long, so he brings it back to your pussy, dragging it over, getting it messy with your slick and his cum before he slowly eases back in. 

"Oh, God," Aki's head falls, and you wrap your legs around his back, tangling your fingers in his hair. You run them through close to the scalp, gently holding the back of his head, and he stammers, "S-So… It's so…"

It's so sloppy, so wet. So overwhelming, and all too much. His cock slides in and out with ease, and he fucks into you as much as he can possibly handle without falling apart at the seams. Your thighs are soaked, his dick is unbelievably messy, and the wet sound echoed each time he shoves himself in is so damn loud. 

"Babydoll, I'm-" Aki mumbles, but he's unable to finish his sentence, breaking into a string of pathetic whimpers. He feverishly gives your neck open-mouthed kisses as a way to shut himself up. 

The overstimulation is already starting to get to him. His legs are weak and shaky, threatening to buckle under the weight of each thrust into you. His dick is so goddamn sensitive that he can hardly handle this, and yet, he can't stop. The only thing running through his brain, through every nerve in his body is that he needs you, he needs this. He grabs your face with his hand and you hook your arms around his neck to pull him in, your lips clumsily connecting with his. 

Aki moans into your mouth as he kisses you, and mutters an I love you that slurs off of his tongue when yours swirls around his. The taste of himself on your mouth has him reeling, and he can't stop himself from rutting his hips into you hard. When he pulls away, there's drool dripping down his chin, and he wipes it hastily with the back of his hand. 

With his head in such a blur, he ends up telling you every little thought that enters into his mind. "Feels so g-good… So warm… Really w-wet, ah-" 

God, you just love him when he's like this. So fucked out and drunk on you he can hardly speak, his head so cloudy all he can think about is how you're making him feel. It's a side of him only you get to see; he's cold and serious with everyone else, but he's got a soft spot for you. The truth is, even when it seems like he's the one in control, you're the one who's held all the power over him from the start. You always have. 

You can leave hickeys on his neck that all his co-workers will see, scratch up his back with your fingernails until they leave red streaks across his skin, touch him anywhere and everywhere you please because he's yours to touch. Play with his pretty cock all you want, until he's pleading with you to let him cum, to give him more because he needs it. You can stuff his own tie in his mouth to keep him quiet, wrap your hands around his throat while you ride him. And he'll love every second of it, pure devotion reflected in the gaze he can't seem to keep off of you.  

He'll let you do anything you want to him, and he'll give you anything you ask for. Especially when he's this overwhelmed, drowning in his own pleasure. And if there's anything you want right now, it's to watch him lose his mind for you. 

So when you tell him to fuck you deeper, harder, pleading, Don't you dare stop, not even for a second, he'll do just that. When you tell him to kiss you, bite you, he does, placing hurried pecks over every inch of your face, leaving impressions of his teeth on your neck and shoulders. And when you tell him to keep talking to you, praise you, I want to hear your voice, his words are incoherent and breathless, but he stammers them all the same, and without a second thought. 

"Love you… I… A-Ah, it's-" Aki manages, trying to form something complete, but failing every time. His breaths are quickened and his chest is heaving when he begs, "Please," although he's not sure what he's even begging for. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and beads of sweat drip down his forehead. It's too much, but he needs you so badly he can't quit. He's desperate to feel you cum on his cock. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him, secured at the ankles. You glide your hands up his chest, then to where his collarbones jut out. Over his shoulders, up to his jawline, then down again to squeeze his arms. He's pretty, so pretty, the prettiest boy you've ever seen. 

He can feel you tightening around him, and can tell your moans are picking up as he fucks you. His thrusts are shallow; he needs the friction, but also longs to stay deep inside you. He's dizzy, seeing stars, and even though he's so overwhelmed that he's not sure if he can handle cumming again, a familiar knot starts forming in his gut. He chokes out, "C-Close." 

"Me too," You reply, "Want you to cum for me, fill me up, please, Aki-" 

There's no way, absolutely no way he can resist that. Between you begging for him and the way you say his name, he's done for. He'll always give you just what you want. 

The tension snaps, and Aki grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him, fucking you through his orgasm, filling you with his cum. He cums so hard, so loud, so desperately, his muscles tightening, his dick throbbing in your stomach, all while he whines your name and a mix of disjointed, endless I love you's. 

His thrusts become messy, unrelenting, and he doesn't stop, not when it sounds like he can hardly breathe, or when his whole body is trembling. Before he collapses onto you, he wedges a hand between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. The feeling is one of utter euphoria, and it's enough to bring you to the edge. You slur his name over and over again as you finish, saying it in ways that make his heart flutter and swell in his chest. 

He slows when you're finally spent, his voice in your ear hoarse, but gentle, words spoken under his breath. "That's it, cum on me, baby. Just like that... Oh my God...."

The record has long since stopped by now, and the rain still falls, but nowhere near as hard as before. It creates an air of silence, and you're suddenly aware of your own heart in your ears, and Aki's heavy breaths, his swallows and meager gasps for air. His weight pins you to the mattress, and he pulls out incredibly slow, wrapping his arms around you to hold you even closer to himself. He smells of sex and sweat, of lingering smoke and a cozy familiarity. 

"You okay?" He asks, finally managing to catch his breath, whispering into the shell of your ear. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay." 

"I love you so much. More than I could ever find a way to express," Aki sighs, taking your hand into his own, "You're the best thing that ever happened to me." 

You give a little half-hearted chuckle, and then you reply, "I love you too. So much." 

Aki pushes himself up a little to meet your gaze. His cheeks are covered in a rosy blush, and when your free hand comes to cup his cheek, he holds it there, his fingers tenderly rubbing circles into your knuckles, brushing over the curve of your ring. 

He smiles, softly, warm enough to melt fresh snow, and the bridge of his nose crinkles ever-so slightly. After a moment of hesitation, he asks, "You tired, baby?" 

You nod, eyelids heavy, your whole body weak and weary. Aki leans in, and you can feel his smile against your lips when he kisses you. He holds it, keeping his lips on yours for far longer than he needs to, like he always does. When he pulls back, he whispers, "Let's get you ready for bed." 

Aki gives you as much time as you need to rest, and when you're ready, he tugs your shirt over your head and carries you to the bathroom. He showers with you, lets you lean on him while he washes your hair, and kisses every inch of your skin while you both relax under the hot water. He dries you off, helps you get dressed, kisses the tip of your nose, asks if you're hungry. You say that you're not, but he offers to make you something anyways, and for his cooking, you can't refuse. 

When the two of you finally sink back into bed, Aki holds you close. His shape fits to yours perfectly, like two halves of the same whole. You can feel the metronome of his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. His hand grabs yours, absentmindedly, like the way magnets are pulled together, destined to find one another. 

"I have the day off tomorrow, what would you like to do, baby?" He asks as he plays with your hair, twirling strands around his fingers. 

"Mmm…" You feign thinking, but really, you're just trying to fight off your ever-growing sleepiness. "Can we go shopping?" 

"We can go wherever you'd like. You wanna go out to eat, too? We haven't in a while." 

It's because your cooking is so good, You think, but you answer with a nod so light you're hardly sure if he even noticed. He places a kiss on the crown of your head and replies, "Alright, we'll go somewhere nice." 

In your head, you imagine how the day with him tomorrow will go. Aki will slip out of bed to make breakfast as silently as possible, careful to avoid stepping on the spots that make the floor creak. You'll wake up to the smell of coffee brewing, to breakfast in bed. Aki will take you to the stores he knows you love, the ones that have the clothes you always say you feel the best in. He'll take you out to the restaurant you never ask for, because you know it's too expensive, but he secretly knows it's your favorite. And of course, he'll pay for everything. 

You begin to fall asleep as the scenes play out in your mind, melting into the lull of his soft breathing and the warmth of his arms. 

Aki's voice is drowsy when he asks, "You still awake?" 

There's no response, so he pulls you closer, holds you safely, presses your head to his heart, and tells you one last, I love you. 

And when he drifts off as well, he'll love you still, wholeheartedly. Even in his dreams, then until he breathes his last, and when he does, he's sure he'll continue to love you in the lifetime after this one. 

I'll love you as much as my heart can take. Cross my heart and hope to die. 

[fr4gments]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

Story Masterlist

[Chapter 1] New Beginnings

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Creampie, Cum Play

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Not even two months after your husband’s death, you find yourself completely broke. There’s no more jewelry or rare items in your house that are actually worth something. You don’t have any more furniture that you can sell. The money you make is barely enough to pay the mortgage to your house. Leading to only one option:

Selling the house.

You hold many memories dear to you between the house’s walls, but at some point your basic necessities are more important than mere memories. You have many pictures that can help you recall the happy moments, which should be enough for some time. Maybe one day you can rebuy the house, but for now you don’t count on it.

In the end, the house is far too big for a single person. And too gloomy for you. The sun doesn’t shine and brightens the house like it used to. Lately every corner is dark, full of recollections of him and his life. It completely brings you down because he’s gone. 

When you pack everything up is when you come to the realization that you’re better off elsewhere. Somewhere that’s big enough for you, a place you can afford. A place that doesn’t bring back the happy memories that not too long after turn gloomy and sorrowful. Somewhere you can start fresh and forget about it all. Forget the first twenty-four years of your life. Even the happiest moments.

Your quest to forget leads you to the outskirts of town, finding an apartment cheap enough that allows you to take two months off work to live off the bit of your savings and the profit of selling the house– But of course, you won’t be doing that. You’ll find a job immediately and use your savings to buy what you need and buy some of the furniture that you had sold. 

But right now you aren’t all too worried about what couch you want for your living room, instead you’re more concerned about getting the mattress up to your floor and into your room. You rented a moving truck and managed to convince the old grumpy neighbor next door to help you pack up some of the stuff, but now he’s miles away. You have no idea what you’re going to do next because you have no idea who anyone is.

So you stand outside the building, arms crossed as you try your best to figure out what you’ll do next. You can try to carry all of it to the third floor, but that won’t be too easy or good for you. You decide to leave it there for a moment and begin to go upstairs to finally see your new apartment. You were in a rush to find a cheap place to move to, and you didn’t even bother to check the unit out. You don’t really care if the place is luxurious or if it’s the biggest dump in the place, you just want to figure out where you’ll be putting your stuff. 

It feels like quite a workout when you get to the third floor, making you put your hands on your knees and pant for a moment. You realize that getting your stuff upstairs won’t be such an easy task, but you’ll somehow manage. Somehow. You still have to figure it out.

When you catch your breath, you walk to your door, your hand going into your pocket to find the key. As you get it out, someone who you can only assume is your new neighbor, walks to the door that’s next to yours. Apartment 381.

He’s tall and seemingly strong, or at least the shirt that hugs him tightly gives that impression. He has black hair that reaches around his ears, certainly in need of a haircut. He doesn’t look like the friendliest to approach, but you wouldn’t feel too comfortable knocking on your other neighbors’ doors asking for help. You’re too focused on the stern look on his face that you nearly miss the little boy that holds the white plastic bag.

“Uhm… Excuse me?” You cringe at the way your voice cracks when you speak up, but regardless, you continue walking up to your neighbor. He turns to look at you, and while usually men’s eyes light up at the sight of you, he holds the same expression throughout. You tell him your first name before asking, “I need help carrying some stuff up, and I was wondering…”

He looks you up and down, taking in every detail before he nods in response. “I need you to watch the kid for me.”

“Oh– Okay. But I’m not sure you can carry it alone.” You tell him, and he chuckles. You’re not sure why he laughs, but you know it makes you nervous. You begin to question your words before he speaks again,

“Oh, trust me, I can.” He answers. “Just open the place, take the kid in, and make sure he doesn’t kill himself.”

You aren’t too sure if it’s the wisest thing for him to leave his son with you, but you aren’t going to argue with it. You know you’re not a murderer or a bad person in general– But your neighbor doesn’t know that. Regardless, he’s accepted to help you and you won’t argue about it. 

“Okay, Megumi, will you go with the nice lady for a moment?” The man asks his son, who tries to hide from you behind his father’s leg. It doesn’t work too well, while his father is big he isn’t quite big enough to completely hide him. You lean down a bit, putting on a smile for the kid.

“Hi, Megumi.” You wave at the little boy, and you see him peek. He pulls on his father’s jeans a bit, making the man sigh. When Megumi senses he’s made himself too visible, he goes back. You can’t help but chuckle. “Seems like Megumi is shy.”

“C’mon, Megumi. She’s nice.” The man says, and you can’t help but chuckle again as you decide to open your apartment. Megumi doesn’t let go of his father’s pants, and the man ends up sighing. “I’ll get you some ice cream afterwards.”

It takes you by surprise when the boy comes to your side, but at the same time you really aren’t. It’s a hot summer day and kids love ice cream. You open the door and peek at the place. Nothing too luxurious, that’s for sure.

“Here.” The man gives you the plastic bag, which you take. He looks to find the truck where your stuff is, and he quickly spots it. He points at it just to make sure, “That’s it, right?”

“It is.” You respond, and he nods in response. You watch as he begins to walk away and you decide to walk inside with Megumi. The place is rather small. You’ll say that. The living room, dining room, and bedroom are all in one place, and there’s a small door that leads to the bathroom. To the left of the entrance is some counter space, a small stove and a small fridge. The apartment isn’t something big, but you weren’t expecting much because you’re not paying too much for rent.

“Alright, Megumi, you can sit wherever you want… Sorry I don’t have anything to entertain you.” You tell him, and he walks to a corner of the place and takes a seat on the floor. You look at the contents of the bag that you hold, and you see some convenience store snacks. Which you can only assume is their breakfast.

“Is this your breakfast?” You ask, walking over to the young boy. He hums in response and you grab the sandwich from the bag and give it to him. He takes it from you and struggles to open the food so you end up opening it for him. You give him the food and he begins to eat quietly, and you’re unsure of what to say or do. Which leads you to ask the question, “What’s your daddy’s name?”

“Daddy.” Megumi responds with a mouthful of food and you can’t help but chuckle. You aren’t surprised by his response, although he should be old enough to know his father’s name, but you won’t pay much attention to that detail. It’s none of your business. You look at him for a moment, trying to figure out what else to say.

“How old are you, sweetie?” You continue asking, and the young boy holds three fingers up when he manages to hold the sandwich with one hand. He’s not much of a talker, at least not with you. You’re a mere stranger. At least you’re glad that you know the kid won’t run off with a stranger. The front door opens and you see the man carrying the mattress in. It was faster than you expected, and he doesn’t struggle all that much. At least he doesn’t seem to be struggling.

“Isn’t this a little too big for the place?” The man’s voice sounds normal, not showing any sign of strain. He puts it right in the middle of the free space of the apartment, and you’re shocked that he was able to carry the mattress up with no problem. “Not judging… It’s your place.”

“No, you’re right. I just didn’t know how small this place was.” You share. He slowly nods before he looks at the watch that’s on his left wrist. He realizes how late it is, but he sees from the corner of his eye that his son is eating what they bought. You two awkwardly stand in silence for a second before you speak up, “What’s your name? I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier. It slipped my mind.”

“I’m Toji Fushiguro.” He answers. You smile at him, putting your hands in your pocket awkwardly. You aren’t sure what to say until you remember you have to at least thank him for his help.

“Well, Toji, thank you. I really appreciate it.” You tell him. 

“How about I help you with the rest of your stuff? I don’t have anything else to do today other than to watch the kid.” He offers which catches you off guard, but you aren’t going to refuse the help. “I’ll just get some toys from my place to keep him entertained while he’s here.”

“Alright, sounds amazing. Thank you, Toji.”

A few hours after Toji gets everything in your apartment, you find yourself attempting to organize everything. There’s no place to put everything. You don’t have a closet to put everything in so you try to put all your clothes in drawers. But obviously there isn’t enough space for everything so you’re putting old clothes in a pile to donate. 

That’s what you spend all afternoon doing, and by eight at night you’re left with two boxes. Two boxes that are filled with his clothes, ones that you’ll leave alone. Leave them in a corner to collect dust, taking up very valuable and limited space.

You don’t notice how late it is until you open the door to your apartment and see how dark the sky is. You had plans of making something special for the neighbors in apartment 381, but clearly it’s too late for that. You really have nothing in your apartment to make food, and by the time you’re done grocery shopping, it’ll be way too late for cooking and showing up at their door with food. 

However, you get an amazing idea. You go to the neighbor’s door and knock. You patiently wait for Toji to open the door, and you feel slightly nervous. Toji is an intimidating man. Although you can say he’s nice– sort of. But you still feel extremely nervous as you wait for him to open the door. You don’t want to interrupt anything. 

“Oh, hey.” Toji opens the door and he doesn’t look too pleased. You’re overthinking because that’s definitely the same look that he had on his face. He crosses his arms and waits for you to say something, but you’re taking a bit too long. When he opens his mouth to speak is when you remember that you have to say something. This isn’t your usual behavior.

“I’m going to get some food and I was wondering if you guys wanted anything… To show my appreciation after your help.” You stumble over words and you notice every mistake which makes you internally curse yourself. Toji looks at the time on his watch and spends a moment thinking about your offer.

“Kid is in bed. But I’ll take up your offer.” He answers, and you slowly nod in response, a weak smile coming to your lips. You feel bad about the kid missing out on this opportunity. Although his father did all the work, you know that he was uncomfortable with you. Poor kid barely said a word, although he was entertained with his toy.

“Were you also going to bed?” You ask and he looks in his mind for what to say. He ends up shaking his head, although he was actually going to bed because he doesn’t have anything else better to do. “Did you take him out for ice cream already? I’m thinking of buying him some tomorrow because I just feel bad.”

Toji steps out of the apartment, not wanting to wake up his sleeping son by conversing. Toji shakes his head again, he had completely forgotten about what he told his son. He ends up saying, “It’s fine. He won’t remember.”

“Well maybe a pack of popsicles or something. It’s hot out and it’ll certainly help you two.” This time Toji doesn’t say anything. Popsicles do sound nice, especially since the AC system in his apartment needs some fixing. He does wonder if that’s affecting you too since you just moved in and your unit doesn’t have AC, but he notices you wear some shorts and a tank top so it can’t be affecting you too bad. “Do you want anything specific from any place?”

“I just want a beer. Get whatever you want.” He answers as you two begin to walk to your place. Toji isn’t all that worried about leaving a sleeping Megumi in the apartment alone. It’s like leaving him in another room of a house, especially since your place is right next door. If the kid was awake it’d be a whole different problem. 

Toji notices immediately how organized everything is, and he’s fairly shocked because he completely left it a mess earlier. Boxes everywhere, the little furniture you had in the middle of the place. Majority of the boxes are now empty and piled up elsewhere. He does notice a pile of clothes on the floor, but he assumes those are some clothes you’ll either donate or sell. There’s not that many. 

“Sorry for the mess.” You comment and he can’t believe his ears. This place is way more organized than he expected. He doesn’t say anything though, he just looks around the small area and takes in every detail. His place is just like this– Well his is a bit bigger and he obviously knows how to make space for him and the kid. “Do you know any good restaurants nearby that deliver?”

“Hmm… There’s this good place down the street. You can look up the menu.” He informs you which you do. He tells you the name of the place and you look it up. Meanwhile, he awkwardly stands around, hands in his back pockets. You realize this and are quick to say,

“Please, take a seat… Wherever you like.” You can’t help but feel bad at the fact that you have no place for him to sit on, other than your bed or the floor. He’s awkward too, and if it weren’t for the fact that his brat isn’t with him, he’d suggest going to the actual place to eat. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, and stares at you while you look at the menu, “I know I have to make a few changes around here.”

“It’s fine. It’s your place after all. Not here to judge.” He responds. He shifts around in the bed for a moment before saying, “At least it feels comfortable.”

“Oh it is. But it’s definitely taking up too much space. I might get a futon or something.” You tell him, sitting down beside him on the bed. You begin to order what you want on your phone, picking things that you think Toji might like. 

“So why did you decide to move here?” He asks so the place isn’t filled with an awkward silence. He can only assume money troubles, because why else would you choose to live here? There might be some other reason though, and he might as well get to know you. He has to know that a criminal isn’t living right next door to his son.

“Just needed a change of scenery… and money troubles.” You mutter the last part, but he hears you. It’s nothing to be ashamed about because he knows. There’s no point in hiding it, why else why would you move here? Toji might not be the brightest guy but he certainly isn’t an idiot. “So what do you do, Fushiguro?”

“I’m a mechanic.” He answers. He looks around for a second, trying to figure out what you do. But he can’t figure it out through the indistinct room. He has no idea which ends up in him asking, “What do you do?”

“I used to work at a daycare.” You respond. “I don’t know what I’ll be doing here, though.”

“Hmm… There’s many places that are hiring around.” Toji tells you. You sigh in response, already dreading going back to work even though you don’t even have a job yet. You liked your old job, but you weren’t in the mood to deal with screaming children. To be honest, you weren’t in the mood for anything. But it also helps to distract you from everything. It keeps you busy. “I think there’s a daycare around here too.”

“Who takes care of Megumi while you work?” You question since he clearly doesn’t know if there’s a daycare around. Perhaps he hires a sitter, but you find that as a more expensive alternative.

“I keep him in the shop with me. They love him there. He’s in his corner playing with his toys while I work.” He informs you, which you’d generally be worried about if it weren’t for the fact that his son is clearly a calm kid. 

“That’s a great way to save money. Kids are fucking expensive.” You chuckle before a yawn escapes your lips. You’re so incredibly tired, and it’s very clear. Toji can tell since you talk less energetically than you did earlier. “Your kid seems like a good one.”

“He’s definitely very calm. I don’t think I could’ve gotten luckier.” Toji looks at the corner with the two unpacked boxes and wonders what’s in them. Maybe it’s winter clothes that aren’t worth unpacking. He doesn’t question it, not that he cares about prying, but because he thinks he has it figured out, and the question doesn’t seem worthy enough to roll off his tongue. 

You stand up and walk to the fridge, opening it to get a water bottle. You hold one up to show him, and he opens and closes his fist which leads you to throw a bottle at him. You open the bottle and bring it up to your lips, chugging the water until it’s nearly empty.

“Any special plans for tomorrow?” You ask, walking back to the bed, taking a seat beside him. He purses his lips together, thinking about what he’ll be doing tomorrow. Which makes you bring up, “If not, I can take you two out for ice cream. Then get some popsicles.”

“Hmmm… I feel like you’re being too nice.” Toji comments, which is something he has never done before. He appreciates gratitude and getting things, but he just feels something is up with you. There’s this sadness behind your eyes that makes him feel guilty. “Dinner is more than enough.”

“Dinner for you, ice cream and popsicles for the kid.” You say. He can’t argue about it. You look at him, taking in every detail of his face. He’s quite handsome, you’ll admit. But no one’s looks compete with him. Either way, Toji is handsome. Even with the stern look on his face, one that you doubt will change because it hasn’t changed all day.

You have a couple questions, but unlike Toji, you don’t mean to pry. There’s a knock on the door, which means that the food is finally here. Definitely faster than either of you expected. You stand up and walk to the door, opening it and taking the bag of food.

“Food’s here.” You announce, although you don’t have to.

You two end up eating on the ground, and not much happens after you begin to eat. When there’s no more food left, he goes back to his apartment.

A week after you move in is when you come to realize how rare it is to bump into your neighbor. The man in 381, of course, because you have yet to meet the neighbor in 383. You have yet to meet any of your other neighbors. You don’t really care about getting to know them or having any sort of friendship with them either way. The only reason you care a bit about seeing Toji is because you owe him and his son ice cream. 

You remembered the next day, but when you knocked on his door, he wasn’t there. And every single other day of the week you were busy job hunting. As Toji told you, there is a daycare, and luckily enough for you, they needed some extra help around. Your first day is on Monday, and you feel ready. Maybe all you needed was some time off because you’re excited to start again. Maybe it’s because none of the parents know you or what you’ve recently gone through. Going back to work not even a week after your husband’s death was truly one of the hardest things you’ve had to do, mainly because everyone knew him, and everyone felt so pitiful whenever they looked at you.

It’s near four in the afternoon, and you’re carrying some groceries upstairs. Your hands are full, and you’re scared of dropping something. When you finally reach the third floor is when you get offered some help. Toji spots you and he’s quick to walk to your side and take some bags from you. 

“Thank you.” You sigh in relief when he takes majority of the bags from you. You get to your apartment and you open the door, allowing him to walk into the place and put the bags on the counter. You put the bags that you have on the floor, and while you’d usually begin to unload the groceries and put them in their designated spot, if you start doing that, Toji will walk out and you won’t see him again for God knows how long. “I still owe Megumi that ice cream.”

“Right… Sorry we’ve been busy. Poor guy got sick.” Toji informs you. You can’t help but pout, feeling bad for the kid. “If you’re not busy we can go now. He’s stuck at home watching TV.”

“Let’s do that.” You smile. You put your index finger up before saying, “Give me a minute to put these away. Groceries are too expensive to let some of them spoil.”

“You’re right. While you do that I’ll get the little guy ready.” He says before he walks out of the apartment, leaving you to put all your groceries away.

You walk alongside Toji and Megumi, who guide you to the ice cream parlor. The walk– Which isn’t so long, feels like an eternity because it’s so hot out. You’re sweating, and Toji notices the sleek sheet of sweat on your body. It makes him comment, “We’re almost there.”

“Okay.” You mutter, extremely hot. Thankfully, in less than two minutes you get to the place. Toji picks up his son from the ground to allow him to look at all the possible flavors that he can pick from, making the young boy lick his lips. There’s so many options to pick from.

“Alright, Megumi, what do you want?” Toji asks as the boy puts his hands on the cold glass that separates him and the delicacy. While the boy hums, trying to decide what he wants, you order some ice cream for yourself.

“I want…” Megumi begins, but he can’t seem to figure out what he wants. Chocolate seems amazing, but that pink strawberry-flavored ice cream really catches his eye. But vanilla is one of his all time favorites. It leads to nowhere. “I want…”

“He wants cookies and cream in a cup. One scoop.” Toji ends up deciding, getting too impatient with the indecisive child. You can’t help but chuckle as you hear this. Toji clearly isn’t the patient kind. Megumi gets his ice cream cup, and Toji puts him down on the floor. “Rocky road cone for me. Two scoops.”

“C’mon, Megumi.” You tilt your head and shake it towards the table. The boy is unsure whether to follow you or not, but then again, you’re the reason he has ice cream so maybe you’re not so bad. He does end up walking with you to sit down at the table. He slides into the booth, and you sit on the opposite side. 

You both focus on eating the ice cream in front of you, which is nice. Generally kids you’ve worked with are very talkative and don’t enjoy their food because they’d rather converse. Although you don’t usually mind, it’s nice being able to sit in silence for a moment. Until Toji sits down next to his kid and begins to talk. 

“The sweet neighbor lady is buying you the ice cream, what do you say?” Toji asks his son and Megumi is too focused on his ice cream to say anything. But Toji clears his throat, grabbing the cup from the kid and putting it on your side of the table, a place that Megumi’s short arms won’t be able to reach. You’re about to hand the child back his ice cream because you don’t really care for a thank you, after all this is all to show your appreciation to Toji and his son for helping you out next week.

“Thank you.” Megumi ends up saying, which gets his father to hand him back the cup of ice cream. He quickly indulges himself in his treat. You smile at the kid and respond,

“No problem.” You reply. You quietly lick the cone, before it comes to your mind, “Please don’t call me the sweet neighbor lady. It makes me feel like a grandma.”

“Right, sorry.” Toji ends up chuckling. Now that he hears it, it does make you sound old. You don’t look old. He’d guess you’re around five to ten years younger than him. “The sweet young neighbor girl.”

“That’s better.” You laugh. You have many questions you want to ask, and right now would be the perfect time to ask them, if it weren’t for the kid that’s sitting down next to Toji. If it also weren’t for the fact that this is practically the second time you talk to him and you don’t want to be too intrusive. You bite into the cone and chew, thinking of what question to ask because the silence with them both makes you feel uncomfortable. Until you finally swallow, grabbing a napkin and cleaning the corners of your mouth before asking, “Did you have a busy week at work?”

“Yes.” He answers, looking over at his son to see how far along he is with his ice cream. Not even halfway done. But then again, Megumi is a small kid. “How about you? Did you find a job?”

“I did. Thankfully.” You respond. You smile at him, “At the daycare you told me about. Luckily enough they needed someone else since someone recently quit.”

“Really? That’s nice.” Toji really isn’t all that interested in your job, but he won’t be his usual rude self. He likes you, somewhat. “Maybe you can get me a discount for Megumi or something. It’d be nice for him to spend time with kids his own age.”

“Hmm… I was told I can get a 75% discount for my own kid. Don’t know if they allow you to give discounts to acquaintances.” You inform him and he ends up nodding in response. Maybe he’d be a bit upset if he didn’t have a cone of ice cream in his hand. “But since I don’t have any kids, I could pass him off as my own. As long as he doesn’t snitch, I think we’ll be fine.”

“That sounds perfect.” Toji's eyes perk up, maybe it’s because he wants to get the kid off his back for a bit. Or maybe it’s because the price of child care is too expensive and the man is trying to save up money so that he and his son can move somewhere else soon enough. Either way, he does appreciate it.

“I would have to fill out some forms and whatnot, but I can take him with me on Monday.” You tell him. He’s about to thank you for it, but Megumi puts his cup down and taps his dad’s arm, causing Toji to look down at him.

“I’m full.”

Near midnight you toss and turn on your bed, too hot to fall asleep. You have yet to get an air conditioning unit, and it’s too hot for you to sleep. You’re lying naked on top of your bed, and you’re still covered in sweat. Your windows are open, but the breeze that enters the place is a hot one and it doesn’t help you at all. At this point, you aren’t sure what to do. At least tomorrow you have all day to sleep.

You sit up on the bed a sigh leaving your lips before you get up and walk to the fridge to get a bottle of water. You put it up to your forehead, relieved. You walk back to your bed and lay down once again, running the cold water bottle through your body. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

There’s a knock on your door, which makes you frown as you get up from your bed. You begin to walk to the door until you realize you’re completely naked. You walk back, grabbing the clothes that are on the corner of the bed and putting them on. They don’t cover much but it’s better than walking out naked. You go to the door and open it, a bit annoyed at whoever is knocking at this time. But you aren’t as annoyed when you see your neighbor, who holds some papers.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?” Toji asks, looking over at you, and you shake your head. He has to tear his eyes away from your body, looking at the very short shorts and the white tank top that leaves little to the imagination, your hard nipples poking through– There’s some spots that are wet which he wonders what they are but eventually figures out it’s sweat because it’s extremely hot out, and he doesn’t feel any cold air coming out of your place. “I was going to give you these tomorrow but I’m busy all day.”

“Please, come in.” You tell him, moving to the side to allow him to step into the place. He puts the papers down on your kitchen counter before he says,

“Just some basic stuff for registration. Important stuff you should know too. He’s allergic to oranges and shellfish.” He begins to tell you and you slowly nod. “Sorry for coming so late, I just couldn’t find everything. Forgot where I put it all.”

“It’s fine. Not like I was doing anything.” You respond. You awkwardly stand around, and neither of you say anything until you ask, “Megumi is asleep. I assume.”

“Yeah… Little guy is knocked out by eight every night.” He shares. He doesn’t seem like he’ll walk out soon, so you close the door. The man looks around the place, seeing no changes to the place yet. “It’s hot in here, are you okay?”

“I can’t sleep.” You confess with a chuckle. 

“Not to sound like a pervert but like this, it’s best to sleep naked.” He says making you laugh.

“I was doing that, but I obviously can’t answer the door completely naked.” You point out which he hadn’t really thought about, but it obviously makes perfect sense. He can’t blame himself though, he knows he isn’t the smartest of the bunch.

“I don’t think anyone would complain about that.” Toji comments and it makes the heat go straight to your face. And it isn’t due to the high temperature from outside. You bite your bottom lip as you begin to walk over to him.

You’re lonely, touch-deprived and feeling a bit too confident. Maybe it’s the heat that’s taken over your emotions, but Toji is very handsome and you haven’t been touched in over a year.  Your body craves it. Maybe you should listen to your body for once.

“What are you trying to say, Fushiguro?” You ask when you’re right in front of him. He looks at your lust-filled eyes, much different than that look that you always have. A smirk comes onto his lips as he looks down at you. “Do you want to see me naked or…?”

“Who would complain? Certainly not me.” He answers as you grab his hands and put them on your hips. How horrible would it be to have sex with your neighbor? It certainly isn’t the smartest idea, but you aren’t thinking of future consequences. You feel his hand go under your shirt and his touch feels as if it burns your skin. His lips go down to meet yours while his hands go up to feel your breasts. He begins to play with your nipples as his tongue enters your mouth.

He’s touch deprived as well, the last time he’s been with someone was around three years ago. And like you, he knows it’s not the best decision to fuck his neighbor, especially since you’ll be taking his son to daycare and getting him a discount, but he isn’t thinking of the consequences. Although he should, because he knows how women are, and he certainly doesn’t want an actual relationship from this. Yet he doesn’t stop his tongue from pressing against yours, and he doesn’t stop one hand from going to your ass while the other continues pinching your nipple.

You pull away from the kiss, grabbing the hand that squeezes your ass and telling him, “Follow me.”

He does so, and you guide him to your bed. You sit down on the bed, and you give him the sweetest look as you look up at him. Toji smirks before he pushes the rest of your body down on the bed, “The first thing I thought about you was how hot you were.”

“Hmm… Really?” You bat your eyelashes. He hums in response as he begins to pull down your shorts, and he’s very surprised to find that you’re wearing no panties. His lips go back to yours while two fingers run through your folds. He feels how wet you are, and he’s surprised because he hasn’t done anything yet. His lips go down, kissing your neck and down to your covered breasts. He pulls down your tank top and latches around your nipple, gently sucking. Soft moans begin to leave your lips as he does so.

He unlatches and kisses the valley of your breasts before he latches on your other nipple. His fingers continue to run through your folds before they begin to play with your clit. You’re so touch deprived that every subtle touch is enough to drive you wild. So much so that you’re way too loud, causing him to detach himself from your nipple and he says, “The walls are very thin. Don’t want you to wake anyone up.”

“Sorry.” You mutter as he stands up straight, pulling down his sweatpants. He takes his cock into his hand, his thumb spreading the pre cum that’s on the tip before he slowly pumps it. He looks down at you, watching as you bite down on your bottom lip.

“Don’t think this is something more. This is just sex.” He tells you, causing you to laugh.

“I should be the one telling you that.” You reply. Once he knows he’s gotten the message across, he runs the tip through your folds. He slowly pushes his dick inside of you, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head. Toji’s dick is long and thick. You weren’t expecting anything else, but it’s definitely much more to take in once he’s actually inside of you.

He gives you a moment to adjust, while also giving himself a moment to adjust. He shuts his eyes, barely being able to handle it. He just forgot how good this was. So incredibly good. You’re biting down your lip as he slowly begins to move, remembering his comment about the walls. You didn’t think this would be so hard.

“S’ fucking good.” Toji groans, feeling as you squeeze around him. He can’t take so much but God, is it good. His hands grip to your hips so hard that you’re sure there’ll be some bruising. But you really aren’t focused on that. “Your pussy is so good.”

“Fuck…” You mutter as his thrusts pick up speed. Your back arches, pleasure overtaking your body with each of his movements. And you’re so focused on yourself that you don’t notice how his thrusts become unregulated, until you feel that warmth fill you up, causing your eyes to go wide.

Toji’s eyes also go wide, realizing that he finished so quickly. It leaves him embarrassed. It causes his cheeks to go pink, which is thankfully not noticeable. This has never happened to him before. And you definitely know it’ll strike his ego if you tell him that you were planning on telling him to pull out, something you should’ve done before you started. He’s about to apologize but decides otherwise, getting on his knees and his tongue running through your folds.

Your mind goes blank again, all other thoughts leaving your brain as he begins to lick your cunt. He tastes himself on you as his cum oozes out of your cunt. His tongue goes to your clit and he slowly flicks it while your hand goes to his hair.

He has the purpose of making you come on his tongue, and you feel it as he’s so eager. You lick your lips before you bite down on your bottom lip. His tongue goes to your entrance, getting some more of his cum on his tongue before he pushes his tongue inside of you. It’s so good. Too good.

“That’s really good.” You say, trying your best to control yourself as his tongue wanders inside of you. When he takes it out, his tongue licks up and down your cunt before once again focusing on your clit.

You feel your orgasm quickly build up, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as it slowly overtakes you. Him finishing so fast was worth it because you doubt you would’ve felt like this before. Your thighs begin to squeeze his head while he works so diligently.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan as you finally reach your peak. He detaches himself from your pussy, first leaving a kiss on your clit. He stands up and starts getting himself ready.

“This never happened.” He tells you, not even a minute after. But you have no problem agreeing with him.

After all, the last thing you want is a relationship.

🏷️ @Instantgalaxysheep @happidiluc @Konekobby @bbqyuyuworld @slut4madara @keithslonelyreadingcorner @Tarajaxx @galactict3a @cloudsinthecosmos @uhremmi @sillyalo @klonisx @sakurasimppp @sunflwrsugar @tojianddabisslut @hiraeth117 @charismaya @megumuro @lilith412426 @violet-19999 @otakusan90s @jumpinjaxx @whatdudtheysay @jjmsg

[fr4gments]

Sending and receiving nudes w aki <3

the second you send aki even a slightly scandalous picture, he's locking himself in his room, staring down at his phone in disbelief because he doesn't even know how to reply. he's blushing hard, he starts trying to type a response, but he's interrupted when you suddenly send another message: do you want to see more?

that has aki taking a deep breath to calm himself and leaning back in his bed to rest against the headboard. he swiftly answers, yes, please. he's left waiting in anticipation, chewing on his bottom lip for only a few minutes more before his phone screen flashes with another attached image from you.

now this one, this one has aki exhaling a long, shaky sigh, it has his gaze fixated on the picture as he admires how beautiful you are, his heart beginning to thump wildly in his chest. he wasn't expecting to see so much, and he doesn't respond, again, which leaves you to send another message to him: c'mon, you're gonna let me see you too, right?

aki thinks for a moment. what do you want to see? you reply: a video. he's a little confused at first, but once he understands what's going on, he's opening the camera app on his phone and pressing record.

and aki is so damn embarrassed; he's never done something like this before, but he wants to show you something you'll like, something that's as perfect as the pictures you sent him. he keeps his camera fixated between his legs, and then he starts to tug his sweatpants down his hips. he squeezes the thick bulge in his briefs with his hand and behind the camera, you hear him mutter, "... is this what you wanted? is this good? or do you want to see more?"

yeah, more, aki. and I'll send a video of me, too.

just the thought of seeing a video of you gets him even harder, and aki records again as he slowly and a little nervously pulls down his briefs to show you his cock. it's pretty and thick; his hand trembles a little when he wraps it around the base. he strokes himself upwards, he rubs the tip with his thumb so you can see how sticky it gets with all of his precum.

"sorry, still a little embarrassed, so I'm going slow... but god, you looked so pretty in those pictures. you're always so pretty, you always get me like this..." aki strokes up the length, his breath hitching when he squeezes, "s-shit, it's sensitive. do you... do you want to keep watching me?"

the videos you send of you touching yourself become the fuel aki needs to send more of himself. he sends little clips of his fist jerking his cock; he cuts them off short so he can take breaks, because if he keeps going, he'll end up cumming too fast.

he's too fucking turned on, he's so hard he can barely stand it. and it's both because of your videos, and because he knows that you're watching him. he knows you're getting off to this, too, to watching aki stroke his dick, to imagining filthy things about him, just like how he's imagining filthy things about you.

you can hear him on the other side of the phone: all of his breathy noises, his soft moans, his quiet voice.

"you're beautiful, so, so beautiful. I'm... I'm thinking of the video you sent right now. I can't stop thinking about it. wish it was me touching you instead, I wanna make you feel good. you should be here right now, so I can touch you just like that, just how you like it."

"I wanna- f-fuck... I want you so bad right now, I need you. I'm imagining that... that this is your hand instead of mine. I'm imagining you jerking me off, how your hand would feel around me, and then... your mouth too, your tongue."

"wish I could just... I wish I could just fuck you. god- I can't, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum..."

you watch him jerk himself faster, his hips bucking into his hand. you listen to the way his moans pick up, the way his voice breaks as he says your name right when he cums, covering his fingers and his stomach with globs of white. his breath is heavy as he comes down, his cock throbs in his palm.

"so good... that felt so good... I love you, I love you... I need you here next time, okay?"

[fr4gments]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, Romance, Smut

Looking for a new beginning after the death of your husband, you move away from town. That's when you meet him, Toji Fushiguro, a widower with a three-year-old son. You two understand each other, which draws you close.

Except you two don't realize that feelings would eventually develop, and neither of you want that. Feelings are the last thing you two want after finding out the great damage that they can cause. When you two discover this, it's too late.

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[Chapter 1] New Beginnings

[fr4gments]

♡ humiliation / hayakawa aki ♡

♡ kinktober 2022 ♡

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k

content: male receiving, sub aki, begging, guided masturbation, teasing aki while he’s wearing a slutty nurse outfit

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

Aki should know better than to make stupid bets, especially with you. You clearly enjoy messing with him, and you're willing to go pretty damn far in order to do so. 

You posed the bet when you and Aki went out drinking, over a round of eight-ball pool. Loser has to wear an outfit of the winner's choosing. It was a close game, but he's rusty, so you came out on top in the end. 

There was nothing in it for him, honestly. He only agreed because he was a bit tipsy at the time, and because he didn't think he'd care all too much about losing. You can pick out an outfit for him, that's fine. When he's not in his work uniform, he usually sticks to basic, casual attire, so wearing something different might be a nice change of pace. 

Yeah, he was stupid for that. He was stupid to think you'd choose an outfit that was anywhere near reasonable. Of course you were only making this bet because you had something up your sleeve. 

Aki found himself in your bedroom now, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to find this mystery outfit while you sifted through your closet. When he asked if you were going anywhere earlier you told him, Nope, we're just staying at home, and that got his gears turning. What kind of outfit would you want him to wear at home only? Wouldn't you want to go out to show it off? There's no point in dressing up at home, is there? 

"Here's what you're gonna wear, and you're gonna wear it for the whole night." 

When you declared this, turning around to present the outfit to him, what Aki saw was the absolute last thing he expected to see. An immediate look of shock dawns on his face, his eyes widening, followed by his nose crinkling and his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. You can't help but giggle at his expression. 

"No," Aki grumbles, "Absolutely not. I'm not wearing that."

In your hands is a Halloween costume you bought but never ended up wearing: a slutty nurse's outfit. Aki remembers watching you try it on in the store, so he knows full well what it consists of. There's a nurse's cap, long gloves, thigh high stockings, and garters. You even bought a new pair of heels to match, too. The main piece is a slim-fitting, short sleeve dress that is just barely long enough to cover the ass of whoever is wearing it. 

"You have to," You coo, grinning, "You lost the bet." 

Aki rolls his eyes. "It won't even fit." 

"Make it work." 

Well, Aki has no damn clue how he made it work, but when you tossed the outfit towards him, walking out of the room to give him time to change, he somehow did. Your size is much smaller than his, but the material of the dress is stretchy and soft. The stockings started to rip a little when he pulled them over his thighs, but they still fit nonetheless. The gloves fit his hands easily, the garters helped hold up the stockings, he couldn't fit into the heels, and… Are you serious? 

You're evil, truly evil. Aki realizes this as soon as he sees the final part of the outfit, and he immediately understands what you're up to now. Embarrassment almost got the best of him, and for a moment he considered bailing, but a little reluctantly, he put it on. Once he finished, he shouts to you from behind the door, "I'm done." 

When you walked back in the room, the sight you were greeted with nearly made your breath stop. Aki, in a slutty nurse outfit that barely even fits, his face flushed a deep shade of red. Aki, who is always so uptight, always professional and serious, now sitting on the edge of your bed looking shy, averting his eyes. His gaze flickers towards you for a brief second when you walk in and shut the door behind you, but once you meet his eyes, he quickly looks away again.

You smirk, commenting, "You look cute as a nurse." 

"Tch. Shut up." 

Cute is an understatement. He looks absolutely adorable. All dressed up for you, because you know you're the only one he'd ever let see him like this. 

The zipper on the front of the dress won't go up all the way, giving you a peek of the dip of his collarbones and a bit of his chest. The outfit hugs his form, and you can see where his biceps stretch the gloves, where his thighs fill out the garters. His hair is down, and the dark locks frame his face so perfectly, long and messy and pretty. The nurse's cap sits clumsily atop his head.

God, he's perfect, but there's still one more thing you want to see. You pull up a chair and sit down across from him. 

"So… Now what? Are we done?" Aki asks, a hint of nervousness present in his voice. 

You ignore his question. "It can't be comfortable to sit like that." 

"Huh?" Aki sounds confused, but you're sure he knows exactly what you're talking about. He's been pressing his thighs together ever since you walked in. 

If he doesn't get it now, you're about to make yourself crystal clear. 

"Spread your legs for me." 

"Oh for fuck's sake, you…" Aki trails off, his jaw clenching as he grits his teeth. He can feel his face become hotter, like a steady fire burning under his skin, and he's sure he must be blushing like crazy. 

Your command rings out again, "Did you hear me? I told you to spread your legs for me." 

Aki hesitates. You can hear him exhale a long, trembling breath. The bed creaks when he shifts his weight back and forth, rubbing his knees together anxiously. And then, finally, while still looking away from you, he slowly spreads his legs apart. 

Holy shit. He put it on, he actually put it on. You know he's the one who lost the bet, but you were sure this would be too much for him, you were certain he'd be far too embarrassed. And with the way his dick barely fits in it, you can tell that under the thin strap of the stupidly small, jet-black thong, he's already getting hard. 

You try to hold it back, but you can't help yourself from snickering a little. "You're wearing it." 

Aki replies simply, "Yeah." 

"You're hard, too." 

Aki can't manage a response to that. His lips purse and his face scrunches up even more. With your eyes on him like this, with his legs spread, and as he's wearing something that barely covers him, he feels so watched, even more so than if he were to be wearing nothing.

You ask, "Did you touch yourself already?" 

"No," Aki snaps, "No, I didn't." He sounds a bit annoyed, but there's an unmistakable waver in his voice. 

"Then why are you hard? Is it just from me looking at you? Or was it when you put on the outfit?" 

Aki swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing solidly in his throat. "I… It was…" His heart rate starts to quicken, each breath he takes in becoming sharper. 

"Poor thing," You coo, leaning back a bit further in your chair, "You want some relief, don't you?" 

Aki doesn't have an answer to that question, either, but he understands just what you're getting at, just what's happening here. Truth is, knowing you, he understood the second you showed the outfit to him. And you, knowing Aki, knew your plan would go off without a hitch, because even if he will never ever admit it, Aki really enjoys this. 

If you love to mess with him, Aki loves to be messed with just as much. There's something about being at your mercy like this that really gets him going. There's something about being toyed with by you, something about being weaker, more pathetic. Something about the way you adore him, admiring him like he belongs to you, like you really want to take care of him. He can be a bit stubborn, sure, but he always ends up listening to you.

You cock an eyebrow when he doesn't answer, crossing and uncrossing your legs. "C'mon, I know you're dying for it. Don't you wanna feel good?" 

"I'm-" Aki gnaws on his bottom lip, his words caught in his throat, but he nods his head shallowly, spreading his legs open just the slightest bit more. 

The next thing you say comes out much quieter, much more commanding.

Listen to my instructions, got it? I'll take care of you. 

Aki's gaze flickers over to you for a brief moment. You'll take care of him? His nerves quiet a little, his tense muscles relaxing. He offers you another nod. "Uh-huh…" 

Alright. Then touch yourself for me. 

Aki can hear the way his heart starts to pound faster in his ears, like the steady, loud beat of a drum. His whole body begins to feel impossibly hot, and your words send a tingle up his spine. 

When he reaches down with a shaky hand, a familiar knot coils in his stomach. His movements are slow as he spreads his legs as wide as he can get them, his finger gently pushing the thin band of the thong out of the way. Then, his breath hitches when he carefully wraps his gloved hand around the thick base of his cock. 

It's pale, pretty, and he's already leaking, drops of precum cascading down the shaft, getting his fingers nice and wet. 

How about you touch just the tip for me? Can you do that?

"I..." Aki swallows, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself before he mutters, "Okay, okay, yeah…" 

The tip of his cock is flushed red, and you can tell it's sensitive when Aki instantly whines as soon as his palm swipes over it. His breath begins to pick up as he rubs just the tip between his fingers, his hips shifting with unrest, his thighs starting to shake. 

"Oh, God," Aki sounds like he can barely speak, his breaths shaky and loud, interrupted by weak whimpers of pleasure. He gasps when his thumb swipes over his slit, smearing slick precum over the tip of his cock. "So- It's really… S-Shit-"

So sensitive, isn't it? Take your hand off. 

Aki protests before he's even thinking: "A-Ah, no, no, I can't-" 

You promised you would be good and listen, so stop. 

Aki sucks in a harsh breath then, finally taking his hand away. His cock aches from the lack of attention, throbbing from in between his legs, begging to be touched; he looks up at you through his eyelashes, his eyelids heavy, waiting for your instructions. 

There we go. Wrap your hand around the base. 

And he does it: Aki grabs the base of his cock — It twitches from the contact, but he doesn't dare to move any further.

I want to see you stroke it all the way from the bottom to the top, nice and slow for me. You're getting punished if you go too fast, understand? 

"Y-Yes… Yes, miss." Aki chokes out, his voice weak, and he starts up a rhythm, stroking his cock slowly and steadily. He does it just as you instructed, quietly whining in pleasure each time his hand strokes himself up, then all the way back down. 

His lips part, quivering, and he places his free hand on the bed behind him, supporting his weight on his arm. All the while, he continues to jerk himself off, his dick dribbling out onto his fingers, over his knuckles, getting the gloves sticky and filthy with his own mess. The material of the gloves is soft and velvety, making every touch feel even better than it usually does. 

So needy, aren't you? 

"Yeah…" Aki admits, and when he twists and squeezes on the upstroke, the wave of pleasure that washes over him elicits a sharp whine from his mouth. "It feels so... so fucking good…" 

I know it does. Look at you, getting off to this, touching yourself in such a cute little outfit. Does it feel better with me watching you, baby? 

"Y-es," Aki replies breathlessly, his voice breaking at the end. 

It really, really does, and Aki didn't realize it until now, but he definitely has a thing for you watching him. God, he's filthy. The more you watch him, the longer your eyes are on him, the harder he gets, the more desperate he becomes. He's touching himself to an unsteady rhythm; he's wearing such an objectifying, stupid little outfit, and he wouldn't be able to stop, not even if he wanted to. 

You're taking in every detail: he's fucking gorgeous, you think, from his pierced ears showing through his dark locks, to his thin fingers wrapped around his cock. The nurse's cap is starting to fall off his head, the short dress is beginning to ride up his stomach, the garters squeeze his thighs tightly. His cheeks are flushed red, and he already has a fucked-out expression on his face, his eyelids heavy, his head feeling woozy. 

You're so pretty. You wanna go faster? 

"F-Fuck…" Aki swallows the lump in his throat, his breath coming out heavier, his eyes screwing shut. He feels his heart swell in his chest — Pretty. You think he's pretty. God, he loves that. "Yeah… I really do." 

Promise you won't cum until I say so. 

"I won't, I promise, miss, please." 

He sounds so fucking desperate. There's no way you could hold him back, not when he's being so good for you. 

Then jerk yourself faster for me. Let me see you make yourself feel really good. 

Aki nods his head frantically, his hand starting to stroke his cock faster. He's sweating, whining, practically struggling to breathe, strands of bangs sticking messily to his forehead.

You can imagine how sensitive his cock must be, how amazing each stroke of his palm feels, how much he's getting off to this. Aki, who's getting himself off to having all your attention, to you watching him touch himself, to you instructing him, to wearing such an indecent outfit. His legs are spread wide, giving you the most perfect view of all of him, and you can see the way his fingers tremble as he clumsily strokes his aching cock.

"I c-can't, I… I'm-" Aki stammers, and he's starting to pant, his voice high-pitched.

Are you gonna cum already? Hasn't it only been a few minutes?

"Sorry, really close, really- You have to, oh-" Aki groans, tossing his head back. His words are slurred as he jerks himself even faster, his hips bucking into his hand, fucking himself into his tight grip. "You have to let me, I need to- Oh God, I can't take it-" 

Ask more politely. Use your manners.

"Please!" Aki exclaims, his tone pleading, his voice sounding almost on the edge of tears, "Please let me cum, miss…" 

You smile. There we go. Cum all over yourself, baby. 

Your permission was all Aki needed to hear before he's over the edge, spilling out all over his hand, his cock twitching in his palm. He cums hard, his whole body tensing and shaking, his voice strained as pathetic little moans and whines of your name leave his lips. He strokes himself sloppily as he finishes, cumming all over his knuckles, his thighs, his stockings. The fabric of his gloves is filthy and sticky, and when he takes his hand away, you can see the way his slick and cum clings to his fingers. 

"That's it, you were so good for me," You praise, pushing yourself up from your chair. You walk over to him once he's had a moment to calm down, and Aki doesn't protest when you press a palm to his chest, pushing him backwards onto the bed until you're positioned over him. His long dark hair fans out over the sheets and hands fall naturally beside his head. His eyes are heavy with lust and exhaustion. 

With your hand still pressed to his chest: "Your heart is pounding." 

"Hah, yeah…" A faint smile forms on Aki's face, his cheeks growing warm.

"You okay? Think you can go again?" 

"Better than okay, and… I think so." 

You lean down, press a kiss to his soft lips, then to the shell of his ear. Finally, you ask him in a whisper, breath hot against his skin, "How about I be the one to make you feel good this time?" 

[fr4gments]

Aki baby fever agenda is very strong these days

a coworker brings their baby to work, and that sets off the gears in Aki’s head to have some of your own. Aki doesn't really know what's come over him. he barely remembers getting home, finding you in the kitchen, and pressing you up against the counter. he barely remembers tugging off yours and his own clothes right there and then. and right now he's barely present as he fucks load after load into you

somewhere, in the back of aki's mind, he's aware of the consequences of his actions. there's a part of him that knows he shouldn't act like this, that knows this is terribly irresponsible. but right now, when he has you pinned beneath him, your pretty hands in his and his dick buried deep inside you, all he can think about is how badly he wants to give you his children.

how many times have the two of you fucked since aki came home from work? it's only been a few hours, but you've gone at it two or three times, or was it four? since he first pushed you over the kitchen counter, and then left dinner behind to carry you to his bedroom, aki's begun to lose track.

all he's been doing is daydreaming, making love to you while imagining what it's gonna be like to marry you. he'll propose, he'll announce to his coworkers that he's getting married. aki stares at your hand in his while he bucks his hips into you, and imagines a bright shiny ring on your finger. you'll have a nice wedding, you'll take aki's last name, you'll move in with him. aki imagines getting you pregnant right here, in his own bed. he wonders if your kids will look more like him, or more like you. he hopes the answer is both.

aki doesn't stop until you're completely exhausted, and until he's completely emptied. he cums in you as deep as he possibly can, he doesn't move an inch until he's sure he's filled your womb with all of it.

"that's it, that's it... take it all for me, g-god..." aki praises, his palm pressed gently to your stomach. he rubs in circles, right where his and your baby is going to form. his chest heaves, his breath is quickened, and he slowly comes down from his fifth orgasm of the night, giving you the last of what he has.

"I love you so much... I love you. you stopped taking your birth control a few days ago, didn't you? you can throw it out. if we're gonna start a family together, I've gotta get you pregnant... we'll try some more times tomorrow, okay?"

[fr4gments]

From Here to There

Aki doesn't want your first time together to be remembered in a drunken haze.

The details: 3.4 k words; alcohol and cigarette use, mentions of vomit, reader has long, straight-ish hair; vaginal fingering, vanilla sex, first time together, Aki is a gentleman and too thoughtful for his own good. (Repost)

“Dance with me.”

It isn’t a question. You slurp the rest of your drink through the thin plastic straw and clumsily set it down, then grab Aki’s hand as you wobble to your feet. He looks up at you with a mix of incredulousness and secondhand embarrassment, so you tug harder, stomping your foot in a petulant attempt to get him to see things your way.

“Please?” You bat your eyelashes and poke out your bottom lip. Aki notes the glassiness in your eyes, the way they droop at the edges even when you throw him a tipsy grin and scratch yourself crudely under your arm. 

“You’re drunk,” he says, deadpan, though he can’t help the quirk of his lips when he thinks of how ridiculous you’ve been tonight.

You roll your eyes and laugh, throaty and boisterous, still standing over him with his hand in yours. “Well, duh. What else do you do when you go to a bar, Aki? Hm?” You poke his shoulder and he grabs your finger, lifting it to his mouth to kiss the tip.

"One dance," he says. Aki himself is feeling the effects of the alcohol he's consumed, and he steadies himself by snaking an arm around your waist to let you lead him out onto the dance floor.

Well…it’s a dance floor in the loosest sense of the word. There’s no DJ, just an old style jukebox that you and a couple of other patrons have been feeding quarters into for the last couple of hours. Tables have been pushed aside to allow room for when a song really gets your engine running, and you have to jump up and thrash around, screaming “I love this song!”  while bonding with random strangers over the music that got you through your teens and early twenties. 

The song you and Aki dance to also happens to be a favorite of yours, though the beat of it is a little slower, a little more mellow than the ones you’d been hyperventilating over earlier. He isn’t sure at first what to do with his hands until you show him. He’s not stiff, but his body doesn’t quite move the way yours does. So you take his hands and slide them down over your hips and press your back against his chest, only to feel him tense even more.

“Relax, babe. You’re so pent up,” you coo, resting your head against his shoulder, swaying against him, trying your best to loosen him up. You know the alcohol is speaking for you, both in your words and your actions, but you really want to be close to him tonight. The longing you’ve felt for him has only grown stronger in the weeks that you’ve been dating, and with a little liquid courage, you hope that maybe tonight, he’ll take you home.

It takes him a few seconds, but Aki does relax. You smile– victorious– and slide your arm behind his neck as he moves with you, his warm, broad hands smoothing upward, over the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist. “Better?” he whispers, lips brushing against your ear. The proximity of his voice sends a pleasant buzz down your spine. 

“Much,” you praise him. You can’t see it, but he turns a little more red with your compliment. 

When you can barely stand on your own two feet and the bartender shouts for last call, Aki drapes his coat over your shoulders and guides you toward the door. You say goodbye to your drinking buddies for the evening, and they giggle with you over how cute and gentlemanly your boyfriend is.

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” you slur, leaning in close to one of them. In a less-than-conspicuous whisper, you cup her ear and say, “But I wish he was. Then maybe he’d fuck me.”

She’s stunned at first, her wide, watery eyes darting from you to Aki and back again. After a beat of awkward silence while you stand and stare at her, she throws her head back and laughs, then pulls you into a tight hug. “Make him yours, baby. He likes you.”

“You really think so?” Your voice wavers with the sudden lump in your throat. 

Wasted as you are, even your sober self hopes she’s right.

Aki says your name and holds your elbow, gently tugging you away from her and out the door as you wave and make some kind of unintelligible hand gestures to signal that you’re going to do your best to crack him. 

“Should I call a ride for us, or can you make it home?” he asks once you’re outside. It’s past two in the morning at this point, and though it’s winter in the city, there’s still a fair amount of traffic and other pedestrians milling about on the sidewalks. The cold December air smacks you in the face and you gasp, blinking your eyes in a desperate attempt to focus on your surroundings. Aki holds you as you look upward at the halo of light around a streetlamp, your mouth slightly agape and your shoulders slumped against his chest. 

“Huh?” 

You hear him chuckle, though his head is turned and there’s a cigarette between his lips. The lighter clicks and he blows a puff of smoke over his shoulder, away from you. “Come on. We can go back to my place so you can sober up a little.” He pauses, then takes another drag before he speaks again. “Unless you’d rather go home.”

You shake your head, and the whole world spins. So you close your eyes, leaning even more of your weight against him. “Take me home. Your home,” you mutter. “Too far to mine.”

Two blocks and twenty-five minutes later, you’re slumped over the toilet in Aki’s tiny apartment; he holds your hair back while you empty your stomach, tears of regret streaming down your cheeks. He’s silently thankful for his strong stomach, otherwise he’d be throwing up right alongside you. When the worst of it seems to be over, he hands you a warm washcloth to wipe your face and helps you to your feet.

Head still spinning, you’re a smidge more sober than you were before, but you’re the kind of drunk now where you’re questioning your decision making skills. The alcohol weighs heavy in your chest and your head begins to throb…it’s going to be one hell of a hangover if you don’t drink enough water before you go to sleep. You look into the mirror and your pitiful reflection stares back at you– smudged eyeliner, red-rimmed eyes and a sorry, regretful pout– and Aki stands behind you, smoothing his hands over your hair and grinning.

“Are you laughing at me?” you ask, only feigning offense.

“Your hair is really soft,” he replies, tucking it behind your ears and pushing it over your shoulders, admiring his handiwork.

“Thanks, but you didn’t answer my question,” you say. You turn slowly to avoid another potential wave of nausea and tug his chin down so that he has to look you directly in the eye. “Are. You. Laughing. At. Me?”

“Not at you. Well. Maybe. It’s just…” he trails off, and instead of saying what he really wants to say, he kisses your forehead. “I think I have an extra toothbrush under the sink if you wanna get the taste out of your mouth.”

And before you can get a word in edgewise, he leaves you to it, closing the door behind him. You root around under the sink and find the toothbrush he was talking about, then spend the next few minutes trying not to gag while you brush the vomit from your mouth and plot your next plan of attack. Is he going to let you spend the night? And if he is, will you sleep in his bed? Will he make you a bed on his couch? Is he out in the kitchen calling you an Uber? 

Does he want to sleep with you as badly as you want to sleep with him?

You straighten up your clothes and wipe away any remaining makeup before opening the door. It’s quiet in his apartment, the only sound being the second hand of the clock that hangs above the sink in his kitchen. He’s turned on a lamp in the living room, and the door to the balcony is cracked open just a few inches. You smell him before you see him, and pad your way over to join him where he leans on the railing, cigarette in hand.

“If you want to stay over, you can have my bed,” he says as nonchalantly as possible. “I don’t want you to think–”

He stops and looks over at you, his eyes dancing across your face. He’s oddly serious, lips slightly parted as if he wants to finish his sentence but doesn’t quite know what to say or how to say it. Aki, too, is still drunk. And he’s afraid that if the temptation is too great, he’ll end up doing something that neither of you are in any state of mind to decide.

“You’re the last true gentleman, Aki Hayakawa. You know that?” 

“I’m just trying to be respectful,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Do you know how badly I want you? How I’ve wanted you?”  You close in on him and he slides his arm around your waist. He crushes out his cigarette in the ashtray to his left, then brushes his knuckles over your cheek, his expression soft as he studies your face.

You kiss him. It’s clumsy and messy and all things impulsive. It isn’t the first time– you’ve been with him long enough that there have been some steamy makeout sessions and plenty of touching in intimate places. You kiss him, and he kisses back. He tries not to think about the fact that you were sick not ten minutes ago and focuses on the peppermint flavor of his toothpaste in your mouth. He cradles the back of your head in his hand and pulls you closer still with his arm wrapped firmly around your waist and licks into your mouth with abandon. 

The two of you stumble your way back inside and Aki shuts the sliding glass door without ever breaking contact. He walks you backward to the couch where you settle into his lap. You kiss him and you kiss him and you kiss him, winding your fingers through his hair, catching his soft groans on your tongue and offering a few of your own for him to taste, to savor. Your hands slip under the hem of his t-shirt and smooth upward, across his abdomen, over the dark hair that grows from his navel to just above his pubic bone. 

His thighs tense when your fingers dance over his groin, and he nips at your bottom lip. A warning, perhaps, to not take this too far. You bite back and smile into his kisses, but when you try to press your palm against the slight bulge in his pants, he grabs your wrist and stills your movements.

You’re throbbing with need at this point, breath coming fast and shallow. You plead with your eyes first, then dip your head to kiss him just below his earlobe. “Please, Aki…I need you.”

He swallows hard, his grip on your wrist unrelenting. You watch the languid bob of his Adam’s apple and push his bangs away from his face, cupping his cheek in the palm of your free hand. He leans into your touch, hungry for more, but his conscience tells him otherwise.

“Not like this,” he whispers, lifting your hand to kiss the inside of your wrist. He places your palm against his heart where you feel it beating faster than your own. “I want you, too. But I want us to be sober the first time.”

Aki is just a man. He is flesh and bone and blood and brains; he is heart and soul and triumphs and mistakes. He wants you more than he thinks he’s ever wanted anything else in his twenty-odd years of existence. He knows how easy it would be to take you to bed, to take advantage of you, to make you his in the most carnal sense of the word…and he knows you would let him. He knows there’s a possibility that you’d wake in the morning and be totally fine with your decision, but he also knows there’s another side to that coin. And he doesn’t want to risk the heartache of hurting you when he thinks he could be in love with you.

Your disappointment is palpable. He sees the rejection written all over your face, and when you turn away from him, he feels a pang of guilt. “Hey,” he whispers. “I’ll tuck you in, okay?”

His bed is soft– softer than your own, you think (or maybe it’s because you want it to be) – and his sheets are deliciously cool when you slide into them. True to his word, he pulls the blankets up to your chin and gently tucks them in around you before placing a tender kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply through your nose, catching a whiff of smoke and tequila; your head feels woozy and you will it away, curling into yourself to hopefully sleep off some of your drunkenness.

“Goodnight,” Aki whispers, lingering in the doorway.

“Aki?”

“Mm?”

“Can’t you just…sleep here? Beside me? I swear I’ll behave myself.”

He considers it briefly, but one look at the outline of your figure beneath the blankets has him questioning his self control. “I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.”

Morning comes, and the unmistakable ache of a hangover headache greets you before you can even open your eyes. You groan and slap a hand across your eyes, then burrow deeper into the blankets. There's a warm weight draped over your waist, and it takes you a moment to realize that you're not in your own bed, and you're most definitely not alone. 

White hot panic shoots through your veins and you open your eyes, immediately filled with regret when you're met with the intense orange glow of the late morning sun. Aki shifts and pulls you closer in his sleep, his face pressed against your shoulder. You shiver when his breath tickles your neck, and you smile into your pillow, wondering at what point during the night he came to bed with you.

…

"Aki?"

He grumbles something about sleep and shifts; the soft sound of his skin brushing against the sheets makes you dizzy with desire. 

"Did we…are you, um." You swallow thickly, your tongue heavy and dry. "What happened last night?"

"Nothing," he replies, hooking his leg over yours. "You cried out in your sleep, and I came to check on you. Must've fallen asleep here." He's so nonchalant about it that you have no choice but to believe him, but when you tuck your backside against him, you're met with the evidence of his own desire for you. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth when you push a little harder, lacing your fingers with his to hold him against the softness of your belly.

Your head throbs with every beat of your heart, but there's another part of your anatomy that throbs more insistently. Aki's lips trail across the nape of your neck, and you guide the hand at your waist down a little further. His fingertips are warm where they rest, and he slips them under the waistband of your panties, testing the waters before grazing them over the soft nest of curls at the apex of your thighs.

You exhale slowly, the promise of what's to come making your heart beat faster with each passing second. He rocks his hips against you, craving some sort of friction, of relief. 

"I want you," he whispers, tracing his tongue behind your ear as he parts your lips, one finger swiping through the slick that has already dampened your cotton panties.

You turn over and he pushes a finger inside as your lips meet, sliding your hands through his hair. You waste no time reaching into his pants to curl your fingers around his warm, velvet length, and your eyes widen at the girth and weight of him. He gasps and shudders; your hands are cold, but the way you squeeze him makes his head spin and his breath catch.

He pulls away, lips pink and kiss-swollen, blue eyes staring into your soul the way he does when you're talking to him about something that excites you. His fingers find your clit easily and he strokes you, enthralled with the way you rock into his hand, the way your eyes are half open and glazed over with arousal. You pause in your strokes along his heavy cock to close your eyes and allow yourself to succumb to the pleasure, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming in the best way. Aside from an occasional gasp or whimper as you feel your orgasm building, you're quiet as he works. He is patient and slow, and the warmth he creates builds at a mind-numbing intensity until your thighs clamp around his hand and you're pressing your mouth to his neck, panting and pleading– for him to stop or continue, you can't be sure.

Aki chuckles at how fast he's been able to bring you to climax. He's enthralled with how you fall apart, how you allow the waves of sweet release to wash over you until you're quivering with the aftershock. He pushes your hair away from your face and kisses above each brow, then slides both hands down to rid you of your panties and the sweatpants of his you borrowed to sleep in. You follow suit and help him undress in kind, and there's a moment of shifting and skin against skin under the blankets before he presses himself between your legs.

You open to him, eager and honest, the tip of his cock resting just outside where you need him most. Aki slides a hand from your hip to your knee, looping one leg over his hip before leaning down to kiss you as he finally pushes inside.

"Need you," you moan. You're aware that it doesn't make sense. He's giving himself to you right now, and every slow, delicious roll of his hips brings you pleasure greater than you'd ever known. You grip his shoulders because it feels like you're falling, nails digging crescents into the defined muscle as you lift your other leg to link your ankles at the small of his back.

"I've got you," he says, and you believe him. Boneless, blissed-out, your headache long forgotten, you focus on the sensation of him inside you, moving intuitively so that he can prolong the moment as long as possible.

Despite his best efforts, his peak hits him faster than he'd wanted. There's a multitude of reasons why, but he can't be bothered to think about any of them beyond the fact that you just feel good, that he's been anticipating and daydreaming and craving this moment probably as long as you have, and he knows he's in love with you but he can't say it now because you'd think he was only saying it because he's buried to the hilt inside your warmth.

He stays inside you when he's finished, steadying his breathing, laying kisses along your collarbone and reaching between you to find your clit again. It's warm and slick and swollen and so, so sensitive, but he brings you to climax again while he grows soft inside you and your muscles twitch and your back arches away from the mattress. 

"Feeling okay?" he asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence. You're wrapped in his embrace, legs tangled with his, limbs heavy and sore– a remnant of the dancing from last night's outing. 

You nod, face pressed against his chest. He smells like home. "Fine."

"Just fine?" There's a teasing tone in his voice; it's low and intimate in both timbre and inflection, and he lifts your chin to gaze into your eyes meaningfully. There's a hint of mischief that glimmers in his eyes. "Guess I'll have to do better next time."

Next time, you think. 

Next time.

"I'm already looking forward to it," you admit, feeling your cheeks heat up with the implications.

You love him. You'll tell him over breakfast.

[fr4gments]

sunsets | a. hayakawa

synopsis: you care for your boyfriend after a brutal mission.

tags: both reader and aki work for public safety. fem reader and pronouns. implied black reader. angst. hurt/comfort kind of.

cws: mentions of injuries and death.

a/n: i cannot stop writing about this man it’s a sickness actually LMFAO. i went the angst route this time.

associated song : sunsetz by cigarettes after sex

————————

to be honest, you didn’t really like being a devil hunter. you had only joined because you didn’t have any other choice, and the pay was good enough to distract you from the fact that your life was at risk every time you put your uniform on. the only positive about it was him. he had joined your division, and at first you didn’t really care for him much. he was alright. you thought. stoic and strong with an incredibly pretty face. a bit too pretty in fact.

it hadn’t been until one of you two’s more challenging missions, one that had to do with the gun devil, that you had really taken him into account. you guys went out for a few drinks afterwards, he invited you to stay the night and next thing you knew he was calling you “darling” and you were living with him.

it’s in moments like these, moments where he’s laying on the couch bruised and bleeding, where you start to doubt if any of this is worth risking your life over. he breathed in sharply as you brought the alcohol-soaked cotton to his wound. “i know it hurts, i’ll be done in a few.” you muttered, knowing words couldn’t soothe the pain. you brought the cotton back to wound, watching his eyes shut. you slowly wrapped the bandage around his forearm, being careful to cover the whole wound. “alright, you should be good now.” you said, walking to throw out the used cotton. you heard shuffling and turned your head to see your boyfriend undoing his usual topknot, letting his hair lightly brush his shoulders.

“do you think it’s worth it?” his voice rang out. you walked towards him and placed yourself beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “i don’t know, aki. sometimes i think it is and other times it’s as if this job has pushed me to my breaking point.” he raised his head to look at you, a sudden concern washing over his face, “what would be your breaking point?” you sighed, choosing your next words carefully. “this. seeing you all bloody and bruised up. not knowing if either of us will survive to see the next day or even to the next hour. i’ve seen too many people die to feel confident when i enter that building.” you trailed off, thinking about your life up to this point. a bad break-up and an argument with your parents has led you here, and you always caught yourself wishing you could go back.

“i just want us to runaway together or something. i know it’s stupid but i want to live a life with you in peace.” you confessed. you felt aki’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighed. “i know. i wish i could, but i have to stay here. for my brother.” you had always admired that about aki. how he knew why he was a devil hunter and his dedication to his personal mission. you wished you had something to motivate you. “i love that about you, you know? your dedication is something i wish i had.” aki let out a small laugh, “you do have dedication, y/n.” he started, “i see how you look at the photo of you and kiyoko. it seems like you’re doing it to avenge her.” your breath stopped for a bit. kiyoko was one of your best friends and had been in your division until she was killed in one of your missions. “and there’s another reason i haven’t quit yet,” aki went on. “what is it?” you questioned, he had told you about his family but you didn’t know there was another reason.

“to protect you. i couldn’t live with myself if you died and i wasn’t there to save you.”

his statement shocked you, but it was more comforting than anything. you paused for a bit, watching the sun dip below the horizon and turned the sky shades of pink and orange.

“then i’ll dedicate myself to protecting you.”

[fr4gments]

there is an idea of normalcy aki always dreams of. 

a universe that exists somewhere between this one and the next. a tender dream to occupy his thoughts instead of drowning himself in the thick smoke of one too many cigarettes. something for him to picture in the confines of his mind on those sleepless nights where he can do nothing but stare at the same chalky, white ceiling.

in this dream, home is not just a concept, or something to keep on chasing only for your grasp to always fall short. it's a moment, it's a person. it's waking up beside you and seeing your face and knowing everything is alright. it's spending time with his makeshift idea of a family and telling denji and power to return home safely when they leave to go to the store (he knows that they will). it's doing the laundry with you and laughing because the most aki has to worry about in this lovely little stretch of time is how he's run out of laundry detergent.

he longs to feel your warmth, he misses the way you looked in his mind when you were wearing his old shirt that he lended to you while the laundry was drying on the rack. he misses how you giggled and called him an idiot for wasting time kissing you instead of going shopping for groceries like he was supposed to. he'll tell you, it's fine, we've got all the time in the world right before he presses his lips to yours again. he misses this version of you, but he thinks he misses this version of himself even more.

it's difficult to tell his mind to settle once it gets going. his body feels heavy, he's covered in tender bruises and wounds. and yet, there's so many things he can't stop thinking about; the beginning, the end. he thought it was too late for this, for him, for you. it's too late for him to eat dinner at the table with the people he now loves more than anything. it's too late for you to tell him that you love him.

but his life has shifted, his meaning in this world has blossomed anew and his old existence is quickly fading into nothing but a memory. aki cares about things he thought he had no room for. your heart has become an extension of his own. and somewhere, there is a reality where the coil was spun differently.

it isn't this one. but it could be.

he thinks he's going to quit devil hunting.

[fr4gments]

Aki with a filthy rich reader who showers him in lavish presents and dates? cuz mans rlly deserves it ❗️

YES YES BECAUSE WE NEED TO SPOIL HIM

aki wouldn't even know how to react at first, he isn't used to receiving gifts... especially so many, and gifts that are this expensive. he never asks for anything from you, in fact, he insists you don't have to buy him things. but you still spoil him anyway; whatever he wants or even hints at wanting, you buy for him, without a second thought. if he wants it, it'll be his. you love to see the warm smile on his face whenever you get him just what he needed.

you buy him things he doesn't need, too. aki can't count the number of times you've bought him something that's more expensive than his entire paycheck... and yet, he truly appreciates every single thing you buy for him.

he's not sure what he did to deserve you, or all the expensive presents you shower him with, or all the fancy dates you take him on, but... he's grateful for everything, and he never forgets to express his gratitude.

[fr4gments]

— 3:01am

summary. toji comes home late at night from a job. he reflects on his love for you.

tags. established relationship, modern au, hitman!toji, fluff, introspection, toji is in love and can’t believe it, oral sex (f.recieving), suggestive

note. based on my fic series gods & monsters, but can be read as a standalone. the reader and toji are unofficially engaged. inspired by rainy nights & gymnopedie.

wc. 2k+

toji regrets passing on the umbrellas strategically placed outside of the 24 hour Family Mart in the pouring rain. the fabric of his worn black jacket practically seeped into into his shoulders, weighing him down. there’d be a storm tonight, no doubt.

his phone died before getting on the last bullet train to tokyo so he hadn’t expected the sudden onslaught of rain. the weather greeted toji like a whirlwind when he stepped out the train—sharp and unforgiving against his sore muscles. 

still, he was too preoccupied with getting home, barely giving the umbrella stand a second glance as he made his way through kabukicho. the red light district was busy despite the weather and late hour; people crowding clubs and bars to escape the cold. even the hostess girls and scammers have retreated from the rain.

toji ignored it all, practically dragging himself through the narrow neon lit streets. his shoulders were heavy and sunken with the fatigue of a weeks long job, but toji was solely focused on getting back home.

to you.

Keep reading

[fr4gments]

a temporary reprieve

You knew that a relationship with Aki Hayakawa was a risk. You vowed to take it as it comes, to take care when it came to your heart and your future, but when you fall pregnant with his child, you realize that the best laid plans often go awry...

The details: 6.9k words. Heavy angst, little to no comfort. Not a happy (but a quietly hopeful) ending. Major character death. Pregnancy and childbirth. Very brief consideration of abortion. Mentions of vomit and nausea. Canon divergence. Shower sex, vaginal fingering. Mentions of bruising and blood. LARGELY UNEDITED, probably rushed because it really got away from me fast and I was terrified if I didn't end it here I'd write forever. Please read at your own risk.

Aki is angry when you tell him.

You knew he wouldn't be happy; to be frank, you weren't exactly thrilled. You'd been together long enough that it had certainly come up in conversations about your future, but it was never a discussion. You both agreed that it wasn't what you wanted out of life. Aki had his own reasons, you had yours, and that was that. There was never any need to revisit the matter because you'd made your choice together. It should have been cut and dry. 

The universe apparently has other plans, however, and the longer you stare at those two little pink lines, the more you realize you are only delaying the inevitable. You have to tell him.

"You okay in there?" His voice is muffled from the other side of the bathroom door, but it still makes your head spin with panic. You turn on the water and flush the toilet, hands trembling.

"Fine!" you lie. "Be out in a sec."

Not tonight, you think. You need time to process it yourself. Maybe there are other options you could consider. Maybe it's a false positive. Maybe this is a bad, bad dream and you'd wake up in a few hours and nothing would be any different than it was before you went to bed. Maybe…

"Hey, we're gonna be late. Not trying to be a dick, but–"

You open the door and smile brightly at him– too brightly, you fear– and your boyfriend raises a brow in a look you know so well, the one that tells you he knows you're hiding something from him and he thinks you're stubborn for even trying. "Ready!" You say, clapping your hands and brushing past him to grab your shawl off the back of the couch. "Sorry for taking so long. I just wanted to look nice tonight."

Aki softens and leans forward to kiss your temple as you bend to strap on your shoes. "You always look nice." He's so sincere that it makes you feel bad for lying to him. You keep your head lowered a few seconds longer than you need, makkng sure the buckle is secure.

"Let's go," you say, threading your arm through his. "I'm sure everyone's waiting for us."

The restaurant is one of Makima's favorites: upscale, swanky, suit and tie required. Bone china, polished silver, crystal and linen as far as the eye can see. You feel Aki stiffen at your side when you enter and you squeeze his hand to quietly reassure him. His thin, strained smile says it all when he looks at you– let's make this quick. You nod in understanding just as Makima comes to greet you.

She's dressed to the nines in an outfit  that must be worth a year of your salary, hair in a perfectly coiffed updo that accentuates her long neck and diamond teardrop earrings. Her smile is syrupy and almost too sweet when she bids you good evening and offers her hand to Aki. He hesitates, then lifts her knuckles to kiss them lightly.

"Good boy," she says, looking directly at you; for some reason, it makes your face feel hot and you duck your head. "Our table is in the back. Come with me, won't you?"

The entirety of Division Four is present. You hear Denji and Power before you see them, half expecting them to be throwing food across the table at each other. You feel like a proud aunt when you see them sitting next to each other, chatting excitedly about their latest kill. When they see you, Aki, and Makima, they straighten up in their chairs and smile. You can't help but wave and smile back. 

A waiter comes to ask what you'd like to drink. Aki orders himself a whisky, then nudges you gently when he sees your nose buried in the menu.

"Hm?"

"What do you want to drink?" 

"Oh– oh! Um, water's fine."

You lift the menu back up to your face and pretend to be deeply engrossed in the selections. 

"Babe? You're sure you don't want something else?" Aki asks quietly. It's not like you to endure these outings without an alcoholic beverage.

You nod. "Mm-hm! Water's fine, thanks," you confirm, hoping that no one is watching too closely. You have a terrible poker face.

At your side, Aki shrugs and lifts his eyes to Makima, who sits directly across from him. She's been watching the entire exchange with scrutinizing eyes, but decides that now isn't the time to bring up your strange behavior. First, she'd like to have a pleasant dinner.

Division Four is smaller these days; devil hunters with balls and brains are hard to come by, and Makima seems to keep those who have stayed with her even closer now. Tonight is a celebration of a month of work without casualties. It's a bittersweet get-together, and almost everyone ends up eating their fill and probably drinking more than they should. You're uncharacteristically quiet; so much so that Aki keeps a reassuring hand on your thigh and gives you a squeeze now and then. He's worried about you, but he engages in conversation with others just the same.

Makima says your name, and you look her directly in the eye, your lips quivering into an uncertain smile. "Are you feeling alright?" she asks. To the naked eye and unwavering ear, it’s an innocent question. But the way she studies you creates a bubbling sense of unease in the pit of your stomach. You take a long sip of your water while maintaining uncomfortable eye contact with her, then use the linen napkin from your lap to wipe your mouth.

“Just fine,” you lie. You know she sees right through it. Makima isn’t someone you normally want to be dishonest with, but this is not the time nor the place to reveal what’s really going on.You swallow again and rub your cheek, the intensity of her gaze making you the one who looks away first. “A little tired tonight, that’s all.”

She rests her chin in her hand and narrows her eyes a little, her painted lips turning down into a deep frown. “Mmm. Maybe you and Aki should call it a night. I’d hate for you to feel worse if you stayed out too late.”

Aki hears his name and is suddenly a part of your conversation with Makima. “What’s that? I didn’t catch it.”

“It’s nothing, Aki, I–”

“I was just telling her that maybe you ought to leave a little early if she isn’t feeling well. You should take her home, Aki. She looks a little pale.” She looks smug, and you reach under the table to squeeze Aki’s hand that’s still resting on your leg.

If the situation gets any more awkward, you’ll crack and just blurt it out. You have a brief, lucid daydream where you stand up and shout I’M PREGNANT WITH AKI’S CHILD! And everyone in the entire restaurant turns to stare at you and you give birth right there on the expensive, white tablecloth. You shake your head to shatter the image and find Aki’s face close to yours, a crooked finger lifting your chin so that he can get a better look at you.

“Makima’s right. You okay? We can go, if you want.”

You look around the table to find that it's fallen silent, and everyone watches you with bated breath. Power has even paused mid-bite with her jaw open, waiting on your answer. So you nod and push your chair out, standing a little too quickly. Your fork chatters to the floor and shatters the deafening silence. "You're probably right," you concede. "Thank you for dinner, Makima. It's been a pleasure."

The drive home is just as awkward. You insist on driving, as Aki took advantage of the free drinks, and you spend most of the drive biting your tongue and contemplating the best way to tell him the news.

Aki isn't an idiot. Your silence speaks volumes; he lights a cigarette and rolls his window halfway down to ease the tension. The smell– which normally doesn't bother you– makes your nose itch and your stomach lurch. You roll your own window down to let the cool night air refresh you.

"What's going on?" he asks, his eyes trained on you under the glow of a stoplight. Fat drops of rain start to fall on the windshield of your car, distorting your view. You watch them streak across the glass instead of looking at Aki. "Did I do something to make you mad?"

He's holding back his anger, his confusion, but it spills over in the tone of his voice. There's a quiet strain, as if there are more words caught in his tongue and he doesn't quite know how to form them in a way that won't upset you further, if indeed you are angry at him. He's painstakingly combing over details of the last few days in his mind, trying to pinpoint the moment when you might have been offended, but he genuinely can't recall anything. 

The light turns green and you make a turn toward home. "You didn't do anything, Aki. I swear." 

He's quiet for a few seconds, dragging on the last of his cigarette. "Then what is it? Did something upset your stomach at dinner? Are you in pain?"

His concern brings tears to your eyes and you shake your head, focusing on your grip on the steering wheel. You shift in your seat and fidget with your seat belt. "I'm a little sick, yeah. Started before dinner though."

"Why didn't you say something then? We could have stayed home if I'd known." He sounds annoyed. "This wasn't a required thing, you know? Makima would understand–"

"No, Aki, I don't think she would have," you retort, snapping at him far more angrily than you meant to. Both of you know you're right, and you let it sink in for a few seconds. You snap your lips shut and turn them into a deep frown, the shame washing over you in a cold, uncomfortable wave. "Sorry- I didn't mean to snap at you."

When you arrive home, he reaches over to grab your hand just as you unfasten your seat belt. His grip is strong, but not forceful. "Please," he says in the darkness. "Please tell me what it is."

"Upstairs," you say, pulling your hand away. "I'll tell you upstairs."

The walk to your shared apartment is too short. Aki walks behind you, step by step, and your keys jingle in your hand. Your heels feel too tight, the pins you put in your hair pressing too hard against your scalp. When you reach the door, you take a deep breath and turn to face Aki, meeting his hardened gaze for the first time in at least a couple of hours. 

"Promise me something."

He squints, his mouth open just enough that you see the lick of his tongue behind his teeth as he tilts his head. "Promise what, exactly?"

"Please don't be mad at me."

He huffs a short laugh, scratching the back of his head. "Depends on what you're going to tell me."

You start to protest, but decide that he's right. You have no business telling him how he's supposed to feel, so you open the door and immediately unbuckle your shoes upon entry. Aki sheds his jacket and follows you to the kitchen, where you brace yourself against the counter to gather courage. The clock above the sink ticks away the seconds, and Aki stands before you, an arm's length away, but doesn't touch you. 

"It's not good news," you whisper. 

Aki’s lip curls a little and he crosses his arms. "Yeah. I figured it wasn't." 

"I, um." You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "I was late. And I took a test, and…uh…" You look at him with a mixture of hope and fear. You don't want to have to say the word– somehow it feels less scary if you don't.

Aki's eyes haven't left your face, but as he mulls over your clumsy confession, his breathing grows more labored and his cheeks flush bright pink. He steps back and lifts a trembling finger. "No…no no no no." His voice raises in volume and intensity. "We said that wasn't going to happen. You were supposed to be on the pill. We've been careful. You– I…" He shakes his head in disbelief and backs up further as if it will soften the blow. 

You reach for him, but your hand falls lifeless to your side when he takes another step back. "Can we talk about it?" 

He laughs, incredulous, pushing his hand through his bangs. "Talk about what? What's there to talk about? You wanna talk about how fucked up this is? About how we agreed to fucking be careful and prevent something like this from happening in the first place?" He opens the sliding glass door to the balcony and steps outside. You follow, tentative and quiet, watching as he lights another cigarette. "What the fuck are we going to do? This- this isn't…" 

Now Aki is the one who won't look at you.

It pains you to even consider, but you know there are options. You lean against the open door, pushing away tears with the heel of your hand. "I mean, I don't have to…" You trail off, looking down at your toes. "I haven't been to the doctor yet, so I don't even know how far along I am, but I could find out, and we can talk about what to do then."

He doesn't say a word. You can feel the ire boiling, rolling off the stiffness of his shoulders and the way he exhales the smoke with impatient force. You don't prod him for a response. With Aki, you've learned that he likes to choose his words carefully and not speak from a place of impulsive emotion. Instead, you step back inside with a deep, wavering sigh.

By the time he comes back inside, you've changed into your pajamas, removed your makeup and jewelry, and crawled under the covers. You're lucid enough to sense when he comes into the bedroom and quietly shuts the door, but you don't make a sound. Instead, you lie still and pretend to be asleep as he goes to shower. When he finally climbs into bed with you, he lies awake for hours, staring at the ceiling.

When you wake up in the morning, he’s gone.

You don’t panic at first, though morning sickness hits you like a freight train as soon as you sit up. The room spins and you break out in a cold sweat, the wave of nausea washing over you and making your skin crawl. Thankfully it’s only a few steps to the bathroom, where you fall on your knees in front of the toilet and heave until there's nothing left but bile. You stand and brush your teeth, but gag on the bristles of your toothbrush on your tongue and end up vomiting again. It takes you several minutes to feel capable of standing without feeling too wobbly, but once you're okay, you go to the kitchen to heat up the kettle.

You're used to occasional mornings alone when Aki works. You try to tell yourself that he got called out on a mission, but this feels different. Usually, there's an air of expectation when he's at work and you know he'll be home, almost always by the time it gets dark. This morning, there's a finality to his departure. You don't recall if he kissed you goodbye like he usually does, or if he told you he loves you in the dark stillness of the early morning. He hasn't taken any additional belongings that you can see, and you try to reassure yourself that he'll be back this evening, but your gut tells you otherwise. Most of the day is spent dozing on the couch, nibbling on saltines and sipping peppermint tea to keep your nausea at bay. It's mundane and routine, but it comforts you to do a load of laundry, to sweep the rug, to add a little birdseed to the feeder on the balcony. The life you've built with Aki–  despite the imminent danger he's in every time he goes to work– is, by contrast, quietly domestic. It's almost picturesque what you've built together.

Now, there's another life to consider. 

Somehow you muster up the courage to call your doctor's office to schedule an appointment. They tell you at first that the only available time won't be for another three weeks, and you panic. If you're to consider termination, you need to find out exactly how far along you are now so that you can decide how to proceed. Without explicitly saying as much, you tell the receptionist that you've been having a terrible time with morning sickness (it's not a total bluff) and you'd like to have a sooner consultation. She sighs heavily and miraculously finds an appointment for you two days from now.

Two days. You hope Aki comes home to go with you. The thought of him leaving for good is one you just can't shake. It's so out of character for him, but considering the way he reacted when you told him the news last night, it’s not totally impossible to fathom. 

It turns out your gut wasn’t wrong, after all. You don’t sleep a wink the first night.

You’re due at work the following morning, but you’re so nauseous and exhausted that you call in sick. Your boss is understanding and tells you to take it easy, but she doesn’t know the extent of what’s happening. Next, you try Aki’s cell. He usually only carries it for work, and since the charger is still plugged into the kitchen counter outlet, you don’t figure you’ll have any luck. When it goes straight to voicemail without even one ring, your fears are confirmed. Though Makima is the last person on earth you want to talk to right now, you know she’s also the first person who might be able to give you a clue as to Aki’s whereabouts. 

“Public Safety, Makima speaking.” Her voice is crystal clear and cuts through your courage like a hot knife, splitting you in two. You stammer into the speaker, and her laugh lilts down the line. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak up. I can’t understand you.”

You take a deep breath and tell her who’s calling. “Have you seen Aki?” you ask– hopeful, tearful, palm clasped over your mouth to quiet your sobs.

“He’s out on a mission right now. May I leave him a message for you?” She’s cold and detached, just as you knew she’d be. You’ve never been able to crack her, and you’re not sure you even want to. There’s something about her that leaves you feeling unsettled and exposed every time you’re around her, as if she knows all of your secrets but won’t tell you which ones she’s thinking about the most.

“Do you know when he’ll be back? Like, even an estimate? Or where he is?”

“I’m sorry, that information is classified. As soon as he’s back in the office, I’ll have him call you.”

“Wait, Makima, I–!” 

She sighs softly. “What is it?”

You hesitate, lowering your head in defeat. “It’s nothing. Thanks anyway.”

“Give him time,” she says.

“I’m sorry?”

The line goes dead before she responds, and you’re left to wonder if she knows. And if she does…is it because Aki told her, or because she figured it out at dinner the other night? Or perhaps she has another way of knowing, and that’s why you felt so uncomfortable in her presence that night.

When Aki doesn’t return home for the second night in a row, you worry more about his safety than what lies between you. If he was injured or killed on the job, surely someone would have reached out to you by now. Although you’re not married, you’re the closest thing to family that he has. It’s tempting to call the Public Safety office again, but you know who will answer and what she’ll say. So you shower, you dress in Aki’s pajamas, and you crawl to his side of the bed where you try to catch a little bit of sleep.

You've been sleeping so lightly that any small sound is apt to rouse you, so it's no surprise that you'd be keenly aware of the front door opening. The clock at your bedside indicates that it's past three in the morning, and you sit up just as Aki's shadow appears in the doorway to your bedroom.

You hold your breath, waiting to hear him say something– anything. But he's quiet and still, hands pushed into the pockets of his pants, shoulder leaning into the doorframe. Moments pass between you, and he sighs.

"Hi," you whisper, tentative and unsure. 

It's his signal to move. He sits down on the edge of the bed and rests his hand on your knee, studying your face. He looks like he's falling apart. Angry, purple crescents beneath his eyes tell you he hasn't slept. He's dirty– old blood streaked across his cheek, under his fingernails. Now that he's closer, you smell the booze, the stale smoke, the acrid coppery scent of blood and sweat and struggle. Your stomach lurches and try to breathe through your mouth instead of your nose. You won't let it ruin this reunion.

"I'm sorry," he offers. "I got a call, and I had to go. There wasn't time to–" He chokes, inhaling sharply and pressing his hand to his mouth to hold back his sobs.

"Oh, Aki…" You sit up fully and wrap him in your arms, tucking your head between his neck and shoulder. He stiffens at first, confused and overwhelmed with your affection, but soon you feel the tension in his body melt away and he allows himself to be held.

He does lift his arms to fold them around you, eventually. There are a million and one things you could both say, but the silence speaks volumes. The fact that he's here with you, that he came back, that he hasn't made the decision to run is relief enough. You know him well enough to know that he wouldn't have the heart to abandon you, but the overwhelming fear of not knowing his whereabouts for the last two days had you thinking all sorts of horrible things. You know his past, you're living in his present right alongside him. But you can't read his mind.

There's a ritual when he comes home from missions, and though he doesn't expect you to help him this time, you do so anyway. You peel his jacket from his shoulders, you take out the knot in his tie and undo the buttons on his shirt, all while the shower runs and steam begins to waft toward the ceiling, creating a warm haze in the confines of your small bathroom. You carefully pull the elastic from his hair and run your fingers through the soft, black strands while he slips his thumbs into the waistband of your pants (his pants, he notes, and his heart swells with guilt) and helps you step out of them.

The water washes away his tension, but the resulting fatigue overwhelms both of you. He's not wounded this time apart from a few small scratches on his face and a larger one on his left shoulder, but the bruises you find tell you that this mission was no small struggle. Aki follows the path of your fingers with tired eyes as you gently circle each blemish on his tender skin.

"What's it like?" he asks, barely above a whisper.

You furrow your brow, wrinkling your nose to keep the tears at bay. "What's what like?" You think you know, but you ask anyway.

Aki places a trembling hand on your abdomen and looks at you meaningfully. "This."

Despite your best efforts, the tears fall anyway and mingle with the water that's misted over your cheeks. You cover his hand with yours. "I don't really know yet. I don't feel any different except for being sick to my stomach all the time."

He frowns a little, then trains his eyes down to where your hands meet. "Do you think the…" He pauses and swallows thickly. "The baby…will have my eyes?"

You shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but the hope that blooms warm in your chest is hard to deny. "Maybe. There's only one way to find out." You look at him expectantly. "I have an appointment today... Do you–"

"I'll come with you," he says. It's resolute and determined, and you know in your heart that he's already decided what the outcome will be. 

Before you can say another word, he's kissing you. It tastes of melancholy, of longing, of long nights of missing you and worrying that you've already made up your mind. You wind your arms around his neck and he turns, pressing you against the shower wall with his body hard and slick against your own. His kisses take a desperate turn, and his hands knead and grab your flesh as if it's the first and last time he'll be able to touch you like this. You kiss him back with equal intensity, the taste of him mingling with the saltiness of tears– yours or his, you're not sure. 

His kisses fall to your jaw, to your neck, tongue tracing over your skin as one hand falls between your legs. You grip him tight around the shoulders with one arm and brace yourself against the wall with your other as he works his fingers just inside, flicking them softly over your clit until your quiet moans fall on his ear.

"I'm sorry I disappeared," he says again, lips grazing the shell of your ear. You feel his hardness pressing just under your belly button and you widen your stance, eyes shut tight against the deluge of water and the desperate need for him to be inside you. You can't bring yourself to care much beyond this moment– past or future, it doesn't matter. He's here now, and he's all you need.

"It's okay," you say, earnestly, your voice climbing a few notes when he grips the back of your thighs to lift you. Back against the wall, arms still wrapped snug around his shoulders, your body welcomes him with practiced ease. Aki takes a moment to steady himself, to feel the warmth of your sex envelop him, before he begins rolling his hips up against yours. You gently scratch your nails through his hair and across the back of his neck and lick your way into his mouth in a deep and dirty kiss. He groans low and gritty, his breath hot and heavy on your tongue. 

It isn't long before the intensity builds for both of you. Within minutes, he's moving at a near frantic pace, fucking into you as hard as he can manage without slipping from his position on the slick tub floor. Your legs are wrapped tight around him as he moves, each thrust making your back slide along the wall to create an angry sounding squeak of skin against vinyl. Neither of you are in any state to care or even notice.  When Aki comes, he pushes hard up inside, staying there without moving to feel the way he pulses, the way your pussy flutters and spasms around him, accepting all that he's giving to you. 

Panting, he helps you lower one leg as he slips out of you, then replaces his cock with gentle fingers. "Got carried away," he says with a quiet, breathless chuckle, kissing his way up from your collarbone to just under your jaw before capturing your mouth in a kiss again. He knows just where to touch and how to kiss you to bring you to the brink quickly, and you're soon falling apart around him, a quivering, wet mess at the hand of your very own devil hunter.

According to blood work and an ultrasound exam, you're seven weeks along. The doctor's report is positive, and you're given medicine to help with morning sickness, which they say should be manageable by the end of your first trimester. Aki listens carefully from the chair beside the examination table where you sit, absorbing all the information until his head spins. It's overwhelming for both of you, but there's no denying the little, flickering flame of excitement when it comes to imagining the future. 

The months fly by. Your morning sickness is replaced by a voracious appetite for noodles and dumplings and almond tofu. Quiet moments are spent with Aki's hand on your swollen abdomen, your feet in his lap, and a tiny human who seems to enjoy practicing somersaults against the warmth of her father's palm. The quiet domesticity you've built together over the last couple of years has a new intensity to it now, and it's increasingly difficult for you to face the reality of Aki’s devil contracts. You don't want to think about it, because ultimately you know that he isn't going to see your child grow up. 

Two years, the Curse Devil had proclaimed after Himeno had passed. You'd met him a few months prior, and at the time you were blissfully unaware of his occupation. He didn't want to have feelings for you, but the more he tried to deny them, the stronger they became. He was honest with you only when he realized how serious you were about pursuing a relationship with him, and he fully expected you to run.

You loved him, though. And you told him as much one evening after you'd drug him to your favorite hangout, drunk on cheap spirits and his warm hands under the hem of your shirt. And for the first time, Aki thought that maybe there was something in this world worth living for beyond revenge. 

It wasn't until you told him you were pregnant that he even considered retiring from Devil hunting, though. Working for public safety had been what he thought was meant for him. Nothing else made sense. Though it could prove fatal for him to even consider abandoning his contracts, he did consider going private. 

Makima's cold, hard gaze makes him feel small and insignificant, and he shifts uncomfortably from where he stands in front of her desk, hands clasped behind his back. His courage wanes the longer she stares, and he knows exactly what she's going to say before the words even leave her mouth.

"You can resign from Public Safety, Aki Hayakawa. But the devils you employ have nothing to do with your paycheck or your conscience."

He bows his head. "Yes, Miss Makima. I understand."

"Hm. Do you also understand that the life you've created will not have any bearing on the length of said contracts? That devils do not care for such trivial human matters?"

Aki grits his teeth, fingernails digging into the fat of his thumbs. "I do."

"And that doesn't change your mind about staying with Public Safety? Public or private, Aki Hayakawa, you'll still be required to call on them from time to time in order to keep fighting."

"I understand, ma'am. Respectfully, I'd like to think that going private might buy me a little more time."

She sits back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest, tilting her head. "Is that so?"

He nods. "If I can choose when I fight, and how much, I can preserve what's left of the time I still have."

"What about money? You won't be paid regularly, or fairly for that matter. Don't you want to be able to take care of this child responsibly in what little time you have remaining?"

"I've been saving. And I have an insurance policy. Even years after I'm gone, she'll be comfortable." There's a solid lump in his throat, and he swallows around it before he continues. "Ma'am, I appreciate your concern, but I've made my decision. I'd like to ask that you respect it, and accept my resignation, effective today."

Makima stands and walks from behind her desk, smooth fingertips trailing over the mahogany surface. She steps, inches away from Aki’s face, and turns her lips into a derisive grin. "Have it your way, then. Though it's sad to see you give up so easily on the one thing that's given you purpose for all these years."

Aki holds her gaze, determined and steadfast. "I'm not giving up. If anything? For the first time, I give a shit about something other than vengeance. There's someone who needs me for who I am, not what I can do for them. And it's restored a faith in humanity that I once thought was hopelessly lost. And if you can't understand that, then I'm not sure we ever understood each other at all, ma'am."

He knows that when he turns and leaves her office, it won't be the last time he sees her.

You go into labor on a late afternoon in March. The previous days you'd been filled with an inexplicable energy to organize the bedroom closet and get every bit of lint out of the dryer vent. Aki watched you with curious fascination, ready to chide you into resting when your breathing became labored and your face began to shine with sweat. The nurse at your doctor's office called it "nesting", and while the term seemed funny to you at first, you soon realized that it came with a primitive purpose.

You were preparing for the birth of your daughter.

Within hours upon your arrival at the hospital, your daughter makes her bloody, messy, screaming entrance into the world. Aki watches from your bedside–  fascinated, disgusted, terrified, enchanted, enthralled– as you give life to her with firm coaching from the swarm of nurses and the doctor who guides her out of your womb and into your aching arms. 

There's a flurry of activity around your bed, but you only see her. Still covered in blood and fluid, little patches of vernix behind her ears and on her shoulders, you think she's the most amazing person you've ever laid eyes on. Ten tiny fingers and ten little toes– you count them one by one while she curls against your chest and Aki kneels at your side with a trembling hand laid atop your head. You coo at her when she looks at you and swipe your finger across her cheek to wipe away the tear that had fallen from your chin.

She has his eyes.

"Mamma, mamma! Look at me!" 

It's a sweltering summer afternoon in the middle of July. There's a playground near your house that's become one of your favorite spots. There's a slide that your daughter swears is as tall as the skyscrapers downtown, and she stands at the top now, waving her little arm in an attempt to garner your attention. You look up from your book and shield your eyes from the sun that burns hot over her shoulder and smile to acknowledge her bravery. No matter that she's done it twenty times this afternoon– each climb is worth celebrating to her.

"I see you, baby! Go ahead! Show me how fast you can go!"

Her giggle is infectious, and she sits down at the edge. "Three…two…one!" Her squeal on the way down makes you throw your head back and laugh, and she nails the landing with her arms thrown in the air.

"Ta-daa!" 

You applaud her bravery and showmanship, and she runs over to reward you with a hug that knocks the wind out of you when she throws her tiny body against yours and climbs into your lap. You stroke her silky black hair and hold her tight, despite the oppressive heat of the humid summer air and try not to think about the fact that Aki’s been missing for the last three days. The last time you’d seen him, he kissed you and his daughter goodbye in the wee hours of the morning, and you felt the familiar– albeit bitter– sense of dread wash over you that you felt every time he left on a mission. He’d kept true to his promise and only went out on calls that were deemed low-risk, fighting only in the private sector. 

Your daughter had just turned three years old that spring. You celebrated her birthday with a trip to the bowling alley and a cake far too big for the three of you, but it didn’t matter. It was cause for celebration for more than one reason, and you knew it as well as he.

There wasn’t much time left. But you hadn’t realized just how little until you see Denji approaching where you and your daughter embrace on the park bench. He lifts a hand in greeting, but he doesn’t smile. His eyes waver, unsure of where to focus, and he takes a deep breath in through his open mouth while slowing his step as he approaches.

“Been a long time,” he says, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk; your vision blurred with tears, you watch as it lands in a soft patch of grass. 

You cover your daughter’s ear with your hand and keep her head pressed against your chest. “Is he dead?” you whisper, searching Denji’s face for the answers you so desperately need.

Denji looks at you, and your head spins, your heart lurches into a frantic rhythm. You kiss your daughter and send her off to play; she happily obliges, and Denji sits beside you, scratching at the back of his neck. “She looks a lot like him, doesn’t she?”

“Identical,” you agree.

“I’m real sorry.”

“I knew it was coming.” It doesn’t soften the blow, however. You’d known that his time was short since before your daughter was born. But no amount of prior knowledge could have prepared you for the way you felt in this moment. The day is too beautiful. The sun is too bright, your daughter is too bubbly. It was supposed to happen on a rainy afternoon when you had nowhere else to be but home, inside and warm and comforted by the quiet stillness of your living room. It wasn’t supposed to be Denji who had to deliver the news. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t–

“Miss Makima said to give you this,” Denji says. It quiets your thoughts when he speaks, and he lays a small yellow envelope in your hand. You know immediately what it is, and though in reality it weighs mere grams, it feels like the weight of the world in the palm of your hand. Suddenly, the world stops spinning, and you don’t hear anything beyond the thrum of your pulse inside your ears, steady and insistent and frustratingly loud; it demands to be heard, to serve as indisputable evidence that you’re alive and Aki is dead, that you’ve outlived him just as you and he both knew you would. You lift the flap of the envelope and dump the contents into your hand.

The ring has been cleaned and polished. A simple circle of plain gold; you’re immediately thrown back to the day you married him under the canopy of trees, just beyond the very playground where your daughter runs with her friends. He’d asked you not long after she was born, and you’d happily agreed. You didn’t want to think about how much time you had as Mrs. Hayakawa, you only wanted to enjoy knowing that you were his and he was yours. That was enough for you. Your vows were simple, your honeymoon modest. You hadn’t told anyone of your decision– you married quietly and happily, despite it all.

“Denji,” you say, tears streaking endlessly down your cheeks as you turn the ring over and over between your fingers. “Were you there?” Was he alone?

“I was called in at the last minute. I–” He hesitates, drumming his fingers on his knees. “He was gone before I got there. But I killed that devil! I tore his ass up, man! For you, for Aki, for your baby, for all of us!”

You smile through your grief, despite your pain. Denji’s energy is exuberant and exactly what you’d expect from him– it’s exactly what you need, and as you wipe your tears with the heel of your hands, you thank him. You thank him for being the one to deliver the news. You thank him for being Denji, for being such a frustratingly perfect coworker for Aki. You thank him and hug him until he’s tomato red and folded in your arms, unsure of whether or not he should touch you. 

“Aw, man. I don’t even know what to say!” he says. 

“Uncle Denji!” Your daughter runs over and you tuck the ring into your pocket and dry your tears. “Uncle Denji, did ya see me on the slide? Wanna watch?”

“Watch?!” he says, turning to give you a conspiratorial wink. “You’re looking at the slide master, little lady! Come with me!” He lifts her onto his shoulders and runs through the grass, her laughter ringing clear and pure.

You pull Aki’s ring from your pocket and fit it down over your thumb. It’s loose, but it’s warm and it’s comforting and it’s a piece of him that you can carry with you throughout the rest of your life. 

You’ll break the news to your daughter tonight. You’ll figure out the rest later.

It’s all temporary, anyway.

[fr4gments]

Sending and receiving nudes w aki <3

the second you send aki even a slightly scandalous picture, he's locking himself in his room, staring down at his phone in disbelief because he doesn't even know how to reply. he's blushing hard, he starts trying to type a response, but he's interrupted when you suddenly send another message: do you want to see more?

that has aki taking a deep breath to calm himself and leaning back in his bed to rest against the headboard. he swiftly answers, yes, please. he's left waiting in anticipation, chewing on his bottom lip for only a few minutes more before his phone screen flashes with another attached image from you.

now this one, this one has aki exhaling a long, shaky sigh, it has his gaze fixated on the picture as he admires how beautiful you are, his heart beginning to thump wildly in his chest. he wasn't expecting to see so much, and he doesn't respond, again, which leaves you to send another message to him: c'mon, you're gonna let me see you too, right?

aki thinks for a moment. what do you want to see? you reply: a video. he's a little confused at first, but once he understands what's going on, he's opening the camera app on his phone and pressing record.

and aki is so damn embarrassed; he's never done something like this before, but he wants to show you something you'll like, something that's as perfect as the pictures you sent him. he keeps his camera fixated between his legs, and then he starts to tug his sweatpants down his hips. he squeezes the thick bulge in his briefs with his hand and behind the camera, you hear him mutter, "... is this what you wanted? is this good? or do you want to see more?"

yeah, more, aki. and I'll send a video of me, too.

just the thought of seeing a video of you gets him even harder, and aki records again as he slowly and a little nervously pulls down his briefs to show you his cock. it's pretty and thick; his hand trembles a little when he wraps it around the base. he strokes himself upwards, he rubs the tip with his thumb so you can see how sticky it gets with all of his precum.

"sorry, still a little embarrassed, so I'm going slow... but god, you looked so pretty in those pictures. you're always so pretty, you always get me like this..." aki strokes up the length, his breath hitching when he squeezes, "s-shit, it's sensitive. do you... do you want to keep watching me?"

the videos you send of you touching yourself become the fuel aki needs to send more of himself. he sends little clips of his fist jerking his cock; he cuts them off short so he can take breaks, because if he keeps going, he'll end up cumming too fast.

he's too fucking turned on, he's so hard he can barely stand it. and it's both because of your videos, and because he knows that you're watching him. he knows you're getting off to this, too, to watching aki stroke his dick, to imagining filthy things about him, just like how he's imagining filthy things about you.

you can hear him on the other side of the phone: all of his breathy noises, his soft moans, his quiet voice.

"you're beautiful, so, so beautiful. I'm... I'm thinking of the video you sent right now. I can't stop thinking about it. wish it was me touching you instead, I wanna make you feel good. you should be here right now, so I can touch you just like that, just how you like it."

"I wanna- f-fuck... I want you so bad right now, I need you. I'm imagining that... that this is your hand instead of mine. I'm imagining you jerking me off, how your hand would feel around me, and then... your mouth too, your tongue."

"wish I could just... I wish I could just fuck you. god- I can't, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum..."

you watch him jerk himself faster, his hips bucking into his hand. you listen to the way his moans pick up, the way his voice breaks as he says your name right when he cums, covering his fingers and his stomach with globs of white. his breath is heavy as he comes down, his cock throbs in his palm.

"so good... that felt so good... I love you, I love you... I need you here next time, okay?"

[fr4gments]

list of favorite things as a fanfic author:

When someone is really freaking mad at me for inducing an emotional response from them

when readers give me a background of how/when they read my writing

when readers give me a background of why they shouldn’t have been reading my writing (usually while at work)

when readers quote my work back to me in comments

the frickin’ real heroes here, the ones who comment on every chapter of an ongoing multi-chapter fic

[fr4gments]

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄

Satoru Gojo

Pairing: designer!Satoru Gojo x model!Reader

Summary: Even though Satoru was bored of dating models, you've caught his eye. He finds himself infatuated with you... And he tends to be a bit extreme

Warnings: Obsessive!Gojo (Sort of Yanderish), Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Spanking, Praising, Creampie, Stalking, Mentions of Gojo stealing dirty laundry, A glimpse of Toji

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Satoru Gojo has worked as a fashion designer for nearly a decade. He’s come across many beautiful women, so many that at one point he’s come to stop caring. He isn’t in awe when a woman resembling a goddess steps into the studio. That excitement and that blushing went away a year into the industry. Now that he’s established himself, and his name is distinguished in the industry, the models are the last thing to surprise him.

He’s gone on a couple of dates with the models, as unprofessional as it sounds. There’s undeniable attraction at times and he can’t argue with it. He just goes with what feels right. And it feels right when the only thought in his mind is physical attraction. But he’s come to realize that looks aren’t everything. It actually makes up very little in a relationship. When he finds himself bored out of his mind ten minutes into a date, he discovers that there has to be more than just physical attraction. He pays for dinner, takes them to a hotel to do them, and then swears after the most mediocre sex of his life that he won’t ask someone out again solely based on looks. Yet, he seems to forget once in a while when a drop-dead gorgeous woman steps into the room.

Although everyone in the dating pool seems tedious nowadays. He can’t complain though. He’s let many great women get away, simply because they didn’t meet the beauty standard. He finds himself regretting it everyday, until he lays his eyes on the most beautiful woman before one of his runway shows.

Satoru’s brand in runaway shows is being all-inclusive. Meaning all types of models could walk, as long as they had a convincing enough walk. Yet he’s never thought he’d be personally benefited by it until now. He’s supposed to make sure the show-stopper is perfect on Yukari, the celebrity guest, yet he wants to talk to this new model. At least he’s sure she’s new. He would’ve noticed someone so beautiful before. He walks up to her, a smile on his face.

“Hi.” Satoru greets you, and you smile at him. The makeup artist works on your eyes, so you have them closed. You have no idea who you’re talking to. For all you know it’s the assistant that casted you into the show. Although his voice sounds quite different. “Have you walked for me before?”

“No… This is my first runway show.” You answer. Now you wonder who you’re talking to, and you’re getting nervous at the thought. It must be the designer. And you’re waiting for tips. You weren’t given any instructions on how to walk other than a typical runway walk. So you wait for it patiently, but when you open your eyes, it’s just you and the makeup artist.

“Suguru… What’s her name?” Satoru questions, subtly pointing at you. Suguru doesn’t notice, too focused on making sure Yukari looks perfect since Satoru isn’t doing the proper job. Suguru doesn’t even bother looking around either.

“Stop crushing over some irrelevant model. We have a job to do.” Suguru says. Satoru is about to argue with it, but he knows better. Plus Suguru isn’t exactly wrong. In ten minutes the show starts. “We both know what’ll happen. You’ll ask her out, go on a boring date, then she’s fired. Doubt that this time it’ll be any different.”

“You’re such a bummer.” Satoru answers before he decides to actually focus on his job. As beautiful as you are, you aren’t the reason for his success and wealth. But he’ll get back to you in due time.

After the show you got the best offer in your life. An actual job instead of just a gig. The assistant to the designer went up to you and offered you to become an official model for the brand– An opportunity you couldn’t turn down. You’re doing better than what you expected.

You were asked to go to the studio early in the morning to help the designer. Although it isn’t what you expected from the job, you’re very glad for it. You walk into the studio, looking around. It seems so empty that you wonder if you’re in the right place. Until you spot a man with white hair, who you’re pretty sure is the designer and owner of this place.

“Excuse me…” Your voice comes off as weak as you walk over to him. He smiles, putting his hands in his pockets while he watches you walk over to him. You’re almost a hundred percent sure that he’s Satoru Gojo. “Am I in the right place?”

“You are.” He nods. He says your name, “That’s you, right?”

“Yes.” You smile. You look around at an empty studio. “Will there be any more models coming?”

“I’m working with just you today.” He answers. He thinks of a quick lie so it doesn’t come off as him having a crush and for you to not get uncomfortable, “I do this with our models.”

“Okay… Mr. Gojo… What would you like me to do?” You question.

“First I need you to put on this dress…” Satoru begins to look for this beautiful dress that he had begun only thinking of the beautiful model he had seen. Something that perfectly matches her skin as well as her body shape. “You can start undressing.”

“Oh… Okay…” You answer, feeling awkward and a bit uncomfortable. But this must be common in the modeling industry, so you should get used to it. You begin with your shoes, then your shirt, and then your pants. The place is rather cold, especially when you’re just in your underwear. Satoru finally walks back with the most beautiful dress you’ve seen.

“I think you’re going to have to take off your bra for this too.” He tells you, and you feel your face get warm, but end up reaching behind to unhook your bra. It makes sense since it’s a strapless dress, however, it still feels weird. You unclasp your bra and slide it off.

Satoru stares, even though he shouldn’t. He can’t raise any suspicions, but he’s not doing a great job at that. You begin to put on the dress, and your breasts are once again covered up which he finds shameful. You hold on to the dress, not wanting to pull the zipper up without instructions. He says, “Turn around.”

You do as he says, and he pulls up the zipper of the dress. He orders you to turn around once again, which you do. He looks you up and down, and he holds back from smirking. If this weren’t his first actual conversation with you, he’d have you bent over. He begins to pinch the cloth and put pins through it. “You have similar measurements to a big client of ours.”

“Oh? That’s good to know…” You awkwardly answer. No wonder you were offered a job. Satoru accidentally pinches your skin while he tries to grab the cloth which earns a cry from you. He looks at your face, finally focusing on something other than the dress.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous. Didn’t mean to do that.” He apologizes, rubbing the spot as if to give you comfort. You aren’t sure what to do as you just stand there. You want to talk but he’s so focused and you wouldn’t want to break that concentration. But luckily for you he’s the one that speaks again, “Also the fact that you’re stunning and a new face means we can have you model our clothes all year round. Don’t think we’re just using you to perfect measurements.”

“Aw, thank you.” You smile. Your face feels warm as you take in the compliment. Hearing those words from a handsome man definitely boosts your ego even more. As if it wasn’t big enough before.

Satoru stops. He grabs your hand, and pulls you so you’re forced to walk. He guides you to a platform, and you walk up to it, somewhat knowing what to do. You feel as his eyes stare at your breasts.

“What size are they?” He questions, and you tell him. You innocently think that it’s to adjust any measurements for the client. He focuses on the dress again. All his attention goes to it.

“It’s a beautiful dress.” You comment, and he smirks. You don’t notice it since you look straight ahead. Of course it’s a beautiful dress, you were the inspiration for it.

“It is.”

Work goes well. You don’t have to go very often but you’re still greatly compensated for your time. You don’t see Satoru as often, but when you do, he treats you very well. It makes you feel as if you’re some sort of star. You as well have other gigs which are paying you mediocre money, but slowly you’re saving up your money. And soon enough you might be able to move out of the shoe-box sized apartment you currently reside in.

Also, very early in the morning there’s a knock on your door. You open it and always receive a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You’ve received so many that flowers that haven’t withered yet are thrown out. You don’t have enough space in your apartment for so many flowers. The question of who’s the one sending these flowers has lingered on your mind ever since the first morning you received them. 

At first you thought it was your new work-friend. You mentioned what your favorite flowers were to her, and thought maybe she sent them to be nice. But there’s no way she has so much money to send this many flowers.

“Who even sends these anyway?” You ask the delivery man this morning. You inspect the flowers as if they aren’t the same as the dozen others that have been sent. He shrugs. He knows but the person chooses to remain anonymous. “Please– Doesn’t have to be a first name or anything. Like do you know what they look like? Are they tall? Short? Do they have any piercings?”

There’s no answer, very unlucky for you, so you end up slamming the old door of your apartment. You put the flowers down on the counter and walk back to your room. At this point you doubt these are friendship flowers. You want to know who this person is so you can form some sort of relationship with them– Platonic or romantic. They’ve spent this much money on you, so the least they deserve is a friendship.

It strikes you. It must be a neighbor since no one at work knows where you live. You think of all of your neighbors, and immediately know who it is. It must be that Toji guy that lives a couple of doors down. You smile, and decide that you’ll be asking him out. He’s very handsome.

Satoru waits in his car, outside of your apartment complex. Mustering up the courage to go inside and ask you out. It’s weird, but he doesn’t feel as if it’s professional to ask you out at work. He’s done it a million other times with other models, but he feels that for this it’s more appropriate to ask you in a different place. As weird as it is just walking to your apartment with no invitation whatsoever. Asking you out at work is definitely more professional, and way less creepy.

He’s about to exit his car but he sees you walk out. You don’t walk out alone either, you’re with someone else. Someone else that doesn’t bring a smile to Satoru’s face. A tall muscular man with black hair. Satoru’s hands ball up into fists, and there’s this sinking feeling in his stomach. He can’t be jealous…  

He exits the car and begins to follow you around, discreetly, when he sees that you aren’t getting in any vehicle. He makes sure to stay a safe distance so if you were to turn around, you wouldn’t see your boss following you. Satoru feels weird for doing this, but he’s lost all common sense. He likes you. He’s infatuated, dare he say. He’s liked many models before but he’s never gone so far as to follow them while they’re out on a date.

Maybe it’s not a date, he tries to think. Maybe the man you’re with is a really great friend of yours. Satoru tries to think that what he’s doing is not so bad with every step he takes. He’s looking out for his model’s wellbeing, that’s all.

You walk into a cheap restaurant with the man, and Satoru takes a deep breath to control himself. Satoru has known you for a month, he can’t be acting so irrational over you. You’re nothing but co-workers. Although that thought makes Satoru boil up inside.

He doesn’t know whether to leave or to stay. He’s frankly seen enough. And he can’t have you spot him in that place. You’d surely quit. Satoru would never go to a place like that. He decides to walk back, as pissed off as he is. He’ll deal with the matter later.

Satoru is usually very sweet with you, but today he seems rather mad. This week has been pretty great with you, and you don’t really need your boss to ruin the week. He’s paying a lot of attention to the other employees… Which is fine, but usually when you’re together he acts as if you’re the only woman around. Which you like.

“Try this on, I finished it.” Satoru says, nearly throwing the dress at you. You’re about to get undressed, but he points to the bathroom. You didn’t even know that was there. You go to the bathroom and get undressed.

You wonder what’s up with him. You’ve seen him mad, at least that’s what you think. He doesn’t usually treat his employees like this, at least not you. You put on the dress that fits just perfectly. It’s seriously the perfect dress for you. Length, size, style and color wise.

You walk out of the bathroom and go to Satoru, who stares at his phone disinterested. He looks up when you’re in front of him, mainly at the dress. You twirl to show him the dress. He looks at it and feels as if there’s a couple finishing touches that are missing. “Stop moving. I need to concentrate.”

So you stop moving while he stares you down. You chew on the inside of your cheek, holding back on asking the question. It kills you inside to not ask. You’re able to keep silent for a couple of minutes before asking, “Mr. Gojo, why are you mad at me?”

“Mad at you?” He questions. It’s not like he’ll openly admit it. He’s not mad at you. He does feel a bit betrayed… But you’re not actually at fault for that because he can’t expect you to stay single all of your life while he musters up the courage to ask you out on a date. But that doesn’t really change his current feelings. “Why do you say I’m mad at you?”

“You’ve been acting weird…” You respond, avoiding eye contact with the man. He looks around the studio for a moment. There’s barely any people around, and they’re focused on their own thing. He just has to get you out of sight…

“You know… I’ve been stressed.” He lies, although could it really be considered a lie if it’s somewhat the truth? He’s been stressed because of you. Not because of work. You feel as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “I could never be mad at someone so gorgeous.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Gojo…” You answer, tilting your head to give in to his touch. You feel so much better knowing that he’s not mad at you.

“Help me pick out some fabric for a gift. My apology to you.” He says, and you nod. He grabs your hand and begins to walk to the room that’s full of shelves with fabric. Satoru is so nice to you, you can’t help but smile at that. You wonder how many models he does this to. You step into the room with fabrics and he tells you, “Pick out your favorite. I’ll make you a beautiful dress.”

You begin to look at the fabrics, unsure of what to pick. After your first date with Toji, you’re confident all will go well so you’re thinking of something that you can wear to impress the man. A color similar to this one. “Actually, come here for a second.”

You walk back to the man, and he begins to smooth out the dress that you’re wearing. His hands get to the end of the dress, and you don’t watch as his hands rip the end of the dress. You hear as the dress rips and your eyes widen. 

“Shit… I have to fix that.” Satoru says. You wonder how that suddenly happened. More than anything you wonder how that happened. “Take off the dress.”

You reach behind to unzip the dress and take it off. You let it slide down to the floor before giving it to Satoru. You stare at the beautiful dress that’s now in Satoru’s hands, “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how that happened.”

“Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I’ll fix it.” He says, tossing the dress over his shoulder. You stare at him, unsure of what to do or say. He stares at you as well, but more at your body than anything, “I like that set of underwear. It’s cute.”

“Thank you…” You shyly respond. It feels weird to hear your boss saying that, but at the same time you don’t mind. He’s very handsome.

“Did you pick that out for me?” He begins, and you feel your cheeks get warm. He did infiltrate your mind when you picked it out. You don’t respond quick enough and he grows impatient, “I’d be very flattered if you said yes… But I doubt it, they might be for a boyfriend or something.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You share, and he fights back a smirk. You feel his cold hands land on your waist, while his lips go to your ear. 

“How’s a beautiful woman like you single?” He questions, his hands going to your back. You feel as his hands go up to your bra. “Are other men not convincing enough?”

“No…” You answer, the lewd thoughts that run through your mind getting the best of you. A future with your neighbor or the fact that sleeping with your boss could get you fired, are the last thoughts in your mind. Satoru’s lips suddenly land on yours, his lips feeling so soft against yours.

You’re at work, but why does that matter when he’s practically the boss? Your hands go behind his neck, while his tongue enters your mouth. He unclasps your bra and throws it aside, since it’s strapless. His fingers begin to play with your nipples while his tongue presses against yours.

“Satoru…” You whimper when he pulls away from the kiss, his head beginning to leave kisses all over your neck. One hand goes down your torso and into your panties. Your soft moans begin to fill up the room as he begins to play with your clit. He sucks on your neck as well.

He should make this fast before someone needs fabric and walks into the place, but he doesn’t want to. He’s wanted this for over a month, and for a person that doesn’t like to wait, that’s a long time for him. Two fingers run through your folds, getting them wet enough with your slick before he pushes them into your cunt.

“Shit-” You mutter, feeling his long fingers inside of you. You’ve watched him work with his fingers so many times now, but you’ve never thought about how great they’d feel inside of you. He curves them just right as he moves them in and out of you.

“You have to pay some way for the dress you ruined.” Satoru comments when his lips detach themselves from your neck. As if he wasn’t the one who ripped it. His lips land on yours again, muffling out the soft moans that leave your lips while he fingers you.

He manages to hit your sweet spot, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. He’s making you feel so good, and this is his first time with you. He’s gotten his fair share of experience so of course he’s somewhat skilled at this. He pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You’re now moaning much louder as an orgasm builds up.

“It’s so- Good-” You’re almost out of breath. The sound of his fingers moving in and out of your pussy much louder as juices leak. He stares at your face since you have that look. The one he’s been fantasizing about ever since he laid his eyes on you. He could come right in his pants. “Fuck- Fuck–”

You’re slightly moving your hips as your orgasm approaches. It comes in at full force, a loud moan leaving your lips as you come all over his fingers. Your legs feel like jello, but luckily Satoru supports you. He takes his fingers out and brings them up to his lips. He shoves them into his mouth, tasting the sweetness(which is not so sweet) that he had been dreaming about.

“Do you want more… Sir?” You ask him, batting your eyelashes. He takes his fingers out of his mouth, and pushes you against a shelf. Your back hits the shelf and he wonders what he should do. Turn you around or watch your pretty face as you take his dick.

He ends up turning you around, and slightly bending you over while he pulls down his zipper. He pushes your panties to the side and finally gets a good look at your pussy. He bites his bottom lip as he gets his cock out and begins to stroke it. “Do you want more, gorgeous?” 

“Yes.” You answer and he smacks your ass. You feel as the tip of his cock runs through your folds. He gets it wet with your juices before he pushes his cock into your cunt. He does it slowly, hoping like this you’ll accommodate faster to the length. He does so with good reason because it’s big. Bigger than what you expected. You’re a moaning mess and he’s not even fully inside of you.

“You’re doing so great, gorgeous.” He praises you. When he’s fully buried inside of you he gives you a couple of seconds to adjust before slowly moving. Satoru is gifted at many things that you knew, but you never thought this would be one. You’ve never thought about Satoru like this because he just seemed… Unattainable. 

His cock fills you up so well and it hits every right spot. Your eyes are once again rolling to the back of your head. You feel as his palm strikes your ass and he tells you, “For ruining a perfect dress.” Yet, your mind is not processing it. 

He hasn’t fucked you for long enough for you to be turned into a mindless woman. But he’s just doing such a good job. Even the praises that want to leave your lips go unsaid since your brain can’t register any words. You just stick your tongue out as he fucks you.

His thrusts pick up more and more speed. His fingers bury into your hips for support, unintentionally digging his nails into your skin. He’s lost himself in pleasure, finding out that your cunt is way better than what he expected. He sure has thought of this scenario many times, but he never thought it’d be this good. 

Your moans are like music to his ears, encouraging him to go faster. You feel as your orgasm approaches, not being able to handle so much at once. His fingers were long, and his dick even longer… Which you aren’t complaining about. Even if you were, the way you’re creaming on his cock would tell on you.

“So fucking good- What a good little pussy.” Satoru praises while ramming into your cunt. He feels you tighten around him while you near your orgasm, and he hisses at the great feeling. He smacks your ass again, and it adds more to your pleasure. 

“Oh- I’m gonna-” You begin and before you can even finish the sentence, your second orgasm takes over you. He praises you for doing so well,

“Doing so good, beautiful. You’re taking my cock so well.” He’s so close to finishing as well. His thrusts get slower and get more unregulated. He’s making sure he lasts long just in case this is his last time doing this with you… Which he doubts. 

He ends up moaning your name before he cums inside of you. He stays buried deep inside of you until he makes sure every drop ends up inside of you. When he pulls out his cock, he watches his cum drip out for a couple of seconds before he adjusts your panties. He begins to fix himself up.

“Don’t worry about the dress.” He tells you, while you catch your breath. He grabs your bra and tosses it to you. He can’t have you walk out wearing just your underwear… That’s a sight for only him to see. “Pick out the fabric for your new dress while I get you your clothes.”

You can’t do anything other than agree in response. He walks out of the fabric room, fighting back the biggest smirk.

Sneaking into your apartment when you weren’t home, stealing your dirty laundry, getting to know your interests such as the books you read and the movies you watch; trivial stuff such as the shampoo and conditioner you use. He’s done so much in so little time. He’s infatuated. Next thing he has to do is get rid of that bum that you went on a date with then ask you out on a date…

Although asking you out might have to wait. He still fears rejection, and he doesn’t want his perfect muse to leave him.

🏷 @dearsunaa @mykyoon @tojidilfs @b3ast1706 @crispmarshmallow @levismainbabe @matchabluebeiry-for-nanami @nobody289x @galactict3a @nothisispatrick300 @tojianddabisslut @katsuwhore @septembersums @tamaki-jiki @thisbicc @rumi-rants @chloee0x0 @kageyamaslittleroyal20 @dakumarauder @lovemarvel16 @lilithlunas

[fr4gments]

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Kishibe x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I'm in my Portishead era. [ SYNOPSIS ] A late night visitor comes to you seeking comfort. [ WORD COUNT ] 1.9k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, hurt/comfort, y/n is a civilian, alcohol, dubcon (he's drunk, y/n is sober), canon-typical violence is discussed, love bites, his dick is pierced, teasing, creampie, cum eating, oral sex, not beta'd and there's barely a plot lol.

It was three in the morning when you heard a gentle rapping at your front door. You had fallen asleep on your couch, dreaming of pleasantries. A hearty discontented moan emanated from your chest. Not answering was your best option, but in your sleepy haze your judgment lapsed.

You swiftly opened the door and groaned. “Oh, so you’re alive.”

You stared at the dark-haired man slumped in your doorway. His tie was loose and limp, shirt half-tucked in. Disheveled didn’t even begin to describe his appearance. Not that you were much better. You answered the door pantsless and in a boxy t-shirt with the hem hacked off.

“Disappointed?” Kishibe slurred.

“Maybe.”

“Too bad,” he said as he handed you a bottle of whiskey. “I brought an offering though.”

You side-stepped and let the wet cat of a man into your home. He leaned against the wall and kicked off his shoes. He looked like shit, but in a strangely appealing way.

“Let’s not pretend that’s for me,” you said as you set the bottle down on your cherry wood table.

He draped his arms over your shoulders and nuzzled his face in your hair. He reeked of cigarettes and sweat.

“You smell nice.”

“You smell like shit.”

The two of you stood in silence, your door a gaping mouth. You wanted to shut it, but you didn’t want to disturb the man clinging to you. You stood there for a minute before you gently pushed Kishibe off of you.

“Want to tell me why you’re here?”

“No,” he said, tone sardonic. “C’mon. You know I hate sleeping alone.”

“And how is that my problem?”

“Because you love me.” You guffawed at his brazen claim. He adjusted his tune. “You like me... You tolerate me.”

“Alright.” You sighed. “You can stay, but you have to shower. There’s no way in hell you’re getting in my bed like this.”

“Be nice to me. I almost died. Don’t you wanna baby me?”

“Not really.”

“Fine. I’ll shower,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. He walked past you heading towards your bathroom. “But you better let me sleep next to you.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“And we’re sharing a blanket this time,” he said, dropping his shirt on the ground.

It looked like a piece of crumpled paper. You picked it up and tossed it in your laundry basket. You would make sure it’d be clean by morning.

You heard your shower turn on and an incredibly pleased moan. Your breath got caught in your throat as you were inundated with perverse ponderings.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Fuck!”

The bathroom door was ajar. You slinked over to it and pushed it open before sitting on the ground. The steam surrounded you. You looked over at his pants, frowning as you noticed the blood stains.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Just mentally, nothing physical.”

“What about the bl—”

“Someone else’s,” he replied flatly.

The need to baby him grew stronger by the minute. You wanted to pull back the shower curtain and hug him.

“Don’t worry about it.” His words were hardly reassuring. “I’m used to it.”

You never knew how to respond to things like that. It was always a casual deluge of nightmares when he spoke. You had taken to listening rather than trying to solve solutionless problems. That must have been what he liked about you.

“I mean it was the first time I’d ever seen someone’s skin get sucked off their body, but it could’ve been worse.”

“For real?!”

“Yeah, like a vacuum. Poor guy died screaming for his mother. And then the devil wore his skin like a suit.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Nah.”

“No. Seriously. That’s fucked up.”

He peeked out from behind the shower curtain, dark hair obscuring his eyes.

“Are you feeling bad for me?”

“Yes!”

“Good,” he laughed, turning off the shower. “Can you bring me a towel?”

You wordlessly got up and dug through your linen closet for your softest towel. If anyone else had treated you that way you would have kicked them out. But you knew it was a defense mechanism; Kishibe’s actions had context so your sympathy was easy to draw out.

You returned to see him standing on your bathroom rug with his head hung low, hands on the countertop. Immediately you noticed his cock, thick and long, and the silver barbell piercing the tip. He perked up at the sound of your footsteps. You put the towel on top of his head and dried his hair, acting as if you weren’t transfixed by his considerable length.

“You don’t have to do this.”

You smiled. “Didn’t you say you wanted me to baby you?”

“I did, didn’t I…”

You wrapped the towel around his broad shoulders and stepped out of the bathroom, leaving him to the rest. Your bed was already unmade, sheets still soaked with last night’s sleep. You smoothed out the wrinkles so it didn’t look quite as chaotic. There was no real reason for it; it’s not as if he’d notice or even care. But still you felt compelled. He deserved placidity in small gestures. 

You glanced over your shoulder only to be startled by his presence. The towel was barely clinging to his waist. His body was flecked with bruises of varying color and size.

“I thought you said you only got hurt mentally.”

He looked down at his battered body. “These are old.”

He yawned and breezed past you, cozying himself in your bedding.

“A damp towel in my bed? Really?”

He pulled it off of himself and dropped it on the floor. You rolled your eyes and crawled into bed. He spooned you immediately, burying his face in your neck. It felt too intimate. Usually you had his clothed body cocooned in his own blanket.

“You finally gonna let me fuck you?”

Your stomach dropped and words eluded you. Sometimes his brazen nature took you by surprise.

“Or are you committed to your long con?”

“I’m not conning you,” you scoffed. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

He held you tighter. “Please take advantage of me. This may be your last chance.”

“Shut up. Get some sleep.”

“You used to be so nice.”

You were vaguely offended. “I am nice. I’m very nice in fact.”

“No. You’re cruel,” he said before planting a kiss on the nape of your neck.

“Are you not sleeping in my bed? I let you use my favorite towel. I’m letting you press your dick up against my ass.”

Kishibe paused. “Well of course you're gonna sound nice when you lay it out like that.”

Silence enveloped the room. You shut your eyes and waited for sleep to take you. He slipped his hand under your shirt and cupped your breast. Rather than push it away you let it linger. It drifted down your abdomen before settling underneath your underwear, his fingertips centimeters from your clit. He began to rut his hips, hard cock rubbing against you and leaving a trail of precum in its wake.

“Wait, are you actually letting me do this?”

You groaned. “Yeah. Don’t make me regret it.”

He rubbed small circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb. Your heart started to pound. You exhaled deeply and tried to maintain composure. Your underwear were already sticky with your arousal. You hated being so easy, so quick to fall apart at the seams.

His fingers swept down your folds, coating them in your fluids.

“I can’t believe you’re this wet already.”

“What else am I supposed to be?!”

You looked back at him and he smirked. You rolled over onto your back away from his grasp, pretending he actually hurt your feelings. You pouted, hoping you’d make him feel a little bad. He scooched closer to you.

“You’re a shitty actor,” he said, propping himself up on his elbow.

His eyes were fixed on your chest, how the fabric did little to obscure your hard nipples. The intensity of his gaze weighed on you.

“It’s impolite to stare.”

“When did I ever say I was polite?” Kishibe asked, getting on top of you. He pulled up your shirt. “You know me better than that.”

He pushed your underwear to the side and delved his rough fingers inside you, keeping his thumb pressed up against your clit. His lips were glued to your neck, his teeth and stubble grazing your skin. He began groping you with his free hand, pinching your nipple. A string of moans tumbled from your mouth.

You arched your back and thrust against his fingers. They felt divine, but you wanted to feel full. You couldn’t help but think about how his cock would feel throbbing inside your wet cunt.

“Need your cock,” you choked out, embarrassed you couldn’t get a full sentence out.

“Is that so?”

He slowly removed his fingers and didn’t hesitate to pull down your underwear. He teased your cunt with his tip, the metal tickling your tender flesh. It felt so good, but his pace frustrated you. You wanted all of him now. You didn’t want to be patient. He should have known that. You whined pathetically in protest.

Seemingly taking pity on you he plunged his cock inside you. Your hands fell to your slides and gripped the sheets. His thrusts were deep and filled with longing. You almost felt bad for turning him down so many times.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he bottomed out.

He looked down at you and grabbed ahold of your jaw. Your breath hitched as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss, radiating passion. You felt so wanted, so needed. You were putty in his hands. Your body quivered in the shadow of his.

He broke the kiss. “You want more?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babbled.

He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. Each of his thrusts were punctuated with a throaty moan. You didn’t think his cock could go deeper into you, but he was more than willing to prove you every shade of wrong. Your skin was hot. You couldn’t stop panting. You felt like he was going to split you in two and it was the definition of blissful.

You were holding on by a thread, losing yourself as your orgasm swirled around you.

“Where do you want it?” He groaned.

“Wa—want what?”

“My cum.”

“Inside. Inside,” you panted.

A shot of warm cum filled your cunt. He fucked it deeper and deeper inside you. He dropped your leg and pulled out. You could have hit him for stopping when you were so close to climaxing. Just as you went to say something he began to lap his cum out of your cunt.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as he sucked on your clit, stubble brushing up against your thighs.

You sighed as your orgasm crescendoed, moans filling the room. You rutted against his face, unable to obscure your ecstasy. He looked up at you, ardor filled eyes meeting yours. He gave your clit one last long lick before kissing the inside of your thighs.

“Th—that was… I mean, wow,” you said, struggling to express your gratitude.

He sat up, looking a little dazed. Poor thing. You knew better than to try to move so soon after coming.

“You going somewhere?” You teased.

“Huh?”

You reached out to him. “Lay back down,” you cooed.

Your words were more than enough to convince him. He cuddled up next to you, resting his head on your chest. You stroked his still damp hair and closed your eyes.

“You know… I’d be up for another round in a bit.”

You waited for a response, but none came.

“Kishibe.”

He groaned and you took that as your cue to quiet down. You would pester him about riding his face in the morning.