#Aki Hayakawa Fic

[ayyy-pee]

Two Doors Down

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x Black! Female Reader

Summary: You’re intoxicating to Aki in a way he’s not familiar with, a way that makes some strange sensation bloom in his chest. The same one that freaked him out enough for him to end things with you. Hours upon hours spent drinking the finest liquors couldn’t make Aki as drunk as he is on you whenever he’s in your presence.

In which Aki finds himself reflecting on his past decisions involving a certain neighbor.

Genre: Neighbor AU

Word Count: 7.6k

Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Pining Aki Hayakawa, Dry Humping, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Reader is a black female reader who uses she/her pronouns!

Art by: NIRI

Ao3 Link: Two Doors Down

It’s too fucking loud in here.

It’s the only thought running through Aki’s head as he toys with the nearly finished cigarette between his fingers. He stares intently at the ash dangling from the end before he flicks it into the ashtray sitting on the bartop in front of him. It’s busy tonight, not too crowded but enough people that it’s a little overwhelming to him. The bump of the music’s bass rattles through Aki’s chest as he takes a sip of his drink. He’s not too big on alcohol, never has been…until recently. Suddenly, he’s been finding himself rather enjoying the burn of the bourbon he’s chosen as his go to liquor.

He has a good guess as to when he started taking up drinking. An easy way to escape the reality he’s created for himself. A reality full of loneliness. It’s his own fault, really. He’d made his choice and now he has to accept the daily humdrum that is now his life. Everyday is mundane. They go like this: Aki wakes up, gets dressed, packs lunch for himself and his siblings, goes to work and then rushes to the bar to forget that when he gets home, everyone will be asleep and he’ll be crawling into bed alone as always.

But, as dull as his life has become, it’s also a relief for Aki. He likes control, likes knowing what the next step is. He doesn’t mind chaos, though he’d prefer not to deal with it. He’d like everything to have a plan. So when Aki gets up in the morning, he knows exactly what he’s wearing, knows what he’s packing for lunch, knows exactly what time he’ll be running out to his car, knows exactly when he’ll be setting his things down in his office and he knows exactly what he’ll be ordering when he slides into his stool at the bar after work.

His coworkers laugh raucously behind him, the sudden burst of sound penetrating the bubble Aki has suddenly surrounded himself in. He takes a final drag of his cigarette before he ashes it and spins in his seat to face his colleagues.

The conversation is smooth, funny, even lifting Aki’s spirits as he lets himself finally get out of his own head.

“What do you think of Himeno, Aki?” One of his coworkers asks and Aki can see the shit eating grin he’s trying to hide behind his glass as he drinks.

Aki shrugs. “She’s nice, I suppose.”

One of his other colleagues chimes in. “Yeah, but what do you think of her? Like, looks wise.”

“Oh,” Aki says. He thinks about it for all of two seconds before he answers. “She’s cute. Not really my type, though.”

“You have a type?” One coworker asks, sounding surprised. 

Aki rolls the ice around in his drink, allowing himself to remember what exactly his type was: Someone who lived just two doors down. An absolute beauty, with a head full of thick curls he loved to bury his nose in. Breathing in the sweet scent of pomegranate and honey. Soft, plush lips pressed against his own, trailing down his neck, down his chest, and further. Him leaving open mouth kisses across the smooth brown skin he couldn’t get enough of. His hands gripping luscious thighs, bringing them to wrap around his waist as he made love to the soft body of the woman he loved beneath him. If he were being honest with himself, that was still his type. It’s been some time since he’d let himself think about this, let himself remember what he let go of and lost, think about you.

He sighs, reaching into his pocket and fishing out his pack of cigarettes. He pulls a stick out and sits it between his lips before he brings his lighter up to his mouth. The flame burns the end of the cigarette as Aki sucks in a breath, successfully lighting. He takes a drag, holding the breath in and letting it burn through his lungs. The sting of the smoke hurts less than the thought of the memories currently assaulting him. It doesn't help much, but it helps enough that he can tuck those memories to the back of his mind for a bit and get back to the present to answer his colleagues previous question.

“I do have a type,” he replies. “And this may come as a shock, but Himeno is not it.”

Another one of his colleagues snorts. “Well shit, if you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”

Aki sips his drink, shrugging again. “Good luck with that.”

His coworkers are alright. Decent company when they want to be. They’re never talking about anything of substance, which Aki appreciates most of the time. He’s always thinking too much, working himself up to the point that he hyper focuses on whatever is on his mind and then he spirals. Always in his head, everyone around him none the wiser. It’s embarrassing. It’s why he likes to keep all the little pieces of his life in order, why he likes to be in control.

The music in the bar picks up, the tempo and bass increasing and Aki realizes it’s getting late. It’s late enough that the bar is shifting more into a club atmosphere, the dance floor starting to fill with patrons. Aki isn’t particularly interested in sticking around for this, (he never was much of a dancer) so he makes to turn and close his bar tab until he hears his coworker whistle.

“Oh, shit. Who is that?” One of his other colleagues gasps. He’s pointing across the bar, to the entrance where a couple has just walked in. A tall man strides in, his arm wrapped around the woman next to him. He’s got a face that is totally forgettable to Aki because all he can focus on is the arm wrapped around the woman next to him and that woman being you.

You’re clearly on a date and Aki…well, Aki doesn’t know how he feels about it. Surprised? Annoyed? Angry? He doesn’t have a right to feel any of those things, in all honesty.

The space feels so much smaller as his eyes track you. It’s been a while since Aki has seen you, really seen you. You two tend to avoid each other as much as you can, seeing as you live so close to each other. Two doors away from each other to be exact. He sometimes sees your posts on social media. He never likes them, in case you get the notification and decide to block him for some reason. On occasion, he’ll let himself scroll through your pages. Not for any particular reason, of course. Just to see what you’re up to lately. Aki tries not to make a habit out of it, tries not to think too hard about what you’re getting into when you post your selfies with your makeup and hair done. Tries not to march down the hall and knock on your door when he hears your laugh floating through the hallways accompanied by some man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t have any right to know anymore. He made that choice when he’d ended things with you.

It was never supposed to be anything more than a casual hookup between friends, neighbors. You and Aki live down the hall from each other and had bonded over the crazy neighbor who lived in the apartment between you two. Nights where you shared a bottle of wine at each other’s places soon turned into venting about work, failed relationships and eventually turned into an agreement to become friends with benefits. What Aki never anticipated was him developing feelings of more than friendship for you. He’d had his fair share of flings before, all never turning into anything. But with you, it became more for him very quickly, and it scared him.

Aki takes another drag of his cigarette as he watches you walk in with your date, a bounce in your step with the same wide smile he remembers and suddenly, the burn in his lungs is definitely not enough to keep him in the present. His mind is full of you. Full of memories of your touch, your scent, your laugh, your voice. Full of the way your eyes watered, the way your voice cracked, choking back a sob, crying for him when he’d decided to pull the plug on your relationship– if you could call it that.

Aki’s eyes are locked to your form, to the sexy little outfit you’ve worn out tonight that makes him shift in his seat, his pants suddenly feeling a bit too snug. He drinks in all the dips and curves he was once so familiar with, watches the way your curls bounce with each step and Aki wonders how long it took for you to finish your twist out this time. He wonders if the man you’re here with tonight helped apply your oils, leave-in and cremes the way he used to. The thought makes his stomach twist unpleasantly.

You haven’t noticed him yet and he’s glad for it. It gives him time to sort out what he’s feeling at the moment while he watches you and your date wander on to the dance floor, a drink in your hand. Your date wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close until your ass is pressed against his groin. Aki inhales the smoke from his cigarette harder.

His gaze is focused on the way your hips sway in tune with the music, how you close your eyes and let the rhythm take over your body. Your movements are intoxicating. You’re intoxicating. You’re intoxicating to Aki in a way he’s not familiar with, a way that makes some strange sensation bloom in his chest. The same one that freaked him out enough for him to end things. Hours upon hours spent drinking the finest liquors couldn’t make Aki as drunk as he is on you whenever he’s in your presence. Your date seems to feel the same, because now he’s gripping on to you a little tighter, pressing his face into the crook of your neck the same way Aki used to, drowning in your scent the way Aki loved to.

Aki’s nostrils flare with annoyance and he tries to pretend seeing you with another man doesn’t get under his skin. He knows he could look away, but he won’t. Maybe it’s his way of punishing himself, forcing himself to watch you move on with your life right in front of him.

Yeah, that’s it. He caused his own pain and now he has to live with watching the way you roll your body against another man. Watch as that man grips onto your hips to pull you further into him. Watch as you both turn your faces to each other, noses brushing together. Watch as that man presses himself against your ass to the beat of the music. Watch as your plush lips part with what he can only imagine is that soft blend of a gasp and a moan you used to make whenever Aki finally pushed his tongue into your aching cunt after all of your begging and whining for him to stop teasing you.

Aki knows that the decision he made to end your arrangement gives him no right to be upset that you’re moving on, trying to find someone who can do better for you than Aki was willing. He also can’t ignore how just imagining another man’s hands on you makes his skin crawl, let alone witnessing it for himself.

He hates that you bring these feelings out of him, that you bring any feelings out of him. Aki likes control, and doesn't like to let his mind get away from him. But with you, it’s like he can’t help the rush of emotions that spill out when he sees you, when he’s near you. You make his life feel chaotic without even trying. It’s like his plans go out the window when you’re around. He’d do quite literally anything for you. Except give up the control he so loves for you.

You’re dancing alone now and Aki debates on getting up and maneuvering his way through the crowd just to get closer when he sees the way your hands run down your breasts, down your torso and to your hips. 

“She’s so fucking sexy,” one of his colleagues practically moans and Aki thinks he wants to put his cigarette out in the space right between his eyes. He opts for the ashtray instead.

Aki takes out his wallet, grabs a few bills and places them on the counter, leaving his cup behind.

“I’m leaving,” he tells his coworkers.

“Not sticking around for the show?” The same colleague from before asks. “I might go get her number if the guy she came with takes too long to come back,” he sips his drink, sighing longingly after he swallows, eyes still glued to you. “I wanna be balls deep in that.”

Yeah, Aki should’ve burned his fucking eyes out.

…The temptation takes Aki aback just a bit and it’s a small reminder of why he needs to get away from you. Why he needs to leave this place and just go home. He’d never been the jealous type, not until he met you. And you’re not even his to be jealous over anymore, and yet…he can’t help the way he sees red watching you with someone else, the way he bites the inside of his cheek until it’s bleeding to keep himself from making a beeline to you.

He doesn’t reply to his coworkers, doesn’t even tell them goodbye as he makes his way through the crowd and out the door.

………

Freshly showered and in bed, Aki tosses and turns, unable to sleep. His thoughts are consumed with the thought of you. The way they always used to be. It’s so frustrating. It’s like his body and his mind can’t control itself. And this is what he dislikes the most. He hates that seeing you in person, being near you at all is like a trigger for him to begin fixating. He hates that if you’re around him, all he sees is you. No one else exists. He hates that when he’s near you, this strange heat begins to bloom in his chest and his heart starts beating so fast he feels dizzy. He doesn’t understand the feeling and in all honesty, it scares him.

It’s why he ended things with you. Aki is a man who likes control, he likes order, he’s not too fond of surprises and chaos. But with you, all of that goes out the window. He’s at your beck and call, he responds to your every whim. He cares deeply for you, but the idea of feeling out of sorts everyday because he can’t control himself when he’s with you is terrifying.

“Now that she’s gone, you’ll be going back to being an uptight asshole, won’t you?” Power had asked.

“Yeah, probably!” Denji chimed in. “At least with her he was a little fun!”

Aki is so deep in thought, he almost misses his phone vibrating next to him. He quickly glances at his device, his body freezing when he sees your name across his screen, along with the contact picture he’d never deleted. 

He remembers it clearly. Aki had taken you out to dinner at some fancy rooftop restaurant in Tokyo. You had a wide smile on your face, curls in disarray as the wind blew through them. You’d tried your best to push them out of your face, but to no avail. Behind you, the sun was setting. It casts an ethereal glow over you, like a halo of pinks and golds and oranges. You were stunning. Of course he couldn’t bring himself to delete the picture. 

He wasn’t in the habit of looking for your contact information, so he hadn’t seen the picture for a long time. Seeing it now made him feel as though it should be framed and hung in a museum, the Mona Lisa taken down and replaced by you.

Aki unlocks his phone, swiping to the text.

You: Hey

You: I know we haven’t talked in awhile, but I think I saw you out at a bar tonight? Was that you?

He hesitates. He knows he shouldn’t respond. That he should leave you alone like he chose to do. But a selfish part of him wants to talk to you. 

So he does.

Aki: That was me. I saw you, too.

He types up the next message, debating on whether he should send it or not…

Fuck it. He’s already texting you, so he might as well. The message sends at the same time a new message comes in from you.

Aki: Didn’t want to interrupt your date

You: You should’ve said hi :)

The three dots pop up right after. You’re typing.

You: Lol you should’ve. He was only trying to fuck and I wasn’t interested

You: He wandered off to talk to some other girl when I said no…so yeah

Aki: I’m sorry to hear that

Liar.

He thinks about that man at the bar touching all over you while you danced. You seemed to be having fun, enjoying yourself. Had he known your date was only trying to get in your pants, Aki may have opted to put his cigarette out between your date's eyes instead of his coworkers. He feels himself getting riled up again, but it’s short lived because your next text makes his heart race.

You: You home?

Aki: I am. What’s up?

You: Wanna come over for a glass of wine?

It’s a bad idea. 

He climbs out of bed.

This is a horrible idea. 

He slips on a pair of pants.

He’d ended things for a reason.

He slides his feet into his house shoes.

He’s going to fall right back into his old ways with you.

He’s out the door.

Aki knocks twice, his heart beating violently against his rib cage. He hears a bit of shuffling coming from the other side of the door and then the door opens and he sees you beaming before him.

“Hey,” you greet him softly, stepping aside.

It’s been so long since Aki has been over. He felt lightheaded from the moment he entered your space, his senses overcome with your presence, your scent, with you. Aki follows you through the entrance and into your living room, tries really hard not to watch the way your shorts give him little peeks of your ass with each step. Instead, he keeps his focus on your curls, piled messily atop your head in that cute pineapple style you sometimes wore before bed. Aki remembers how adorable he thought you were dressed down like this as he takes a seat on the couch while you head to the kitchen.

Your apartment is cute. It’s got all of the elements that make it you; from the accent pillows on your sofa, to the pictures lining your walls, and the nice glass of wine you fill with wine and hand to Aki. You take a seat next to him, sipping your drink before you start the conversation.

He half expected things to be awkward, given how your last interaction had ended and your lack of communication following those events, but conversation flows naturally.

You’re laughing, now on the end of your second glass of wine.

“And then,” you snort, covering your mouth and trying not to fall into a fit of giggles again. Aki can’t help his own grin listening to you. “And then, Denji tells me he had to—“

Your phone dinging interrupts your story.

“Sorry,” you say, unlocking your phone. Aki waves his hand.

“Go ahead.”

You swipe along your screen and Aki lets his gaze fall on your screen. He knows he shouldn’t. He regrets it immediately when he sees another man’s name on your screen. He doesn’t need to see the contents of the text, his body already reacting with annoyance. Aki can’t help the words that leave him next.

“Another date?” He shouldn’t have asked.

You look at him, brows furrowed. “Uh, yeah nosy. It is.”

Aki scoffs. 

“What?” You ask, still typing a text to this fucking guy.

“Looks like you’ve got guys lined up to take you out these days.” The bitterness drips off every word. He doesn’t mean for it to, but he can’t help it.

You roll your eyes, sending your text to whatever guy that is and setting your phone on the table— face down, Aki notes.

“Do you have something you wanna say, Aki?”

Yeah, I made a mistake. You can stop dating these fucking losers. I’m here now.

That’s what he wants to say, but Aki shakes his head instead. He can tell he’s irritating you and the night has been going so well. He doesn’t want to fuck it up already.

“Of course not,” you mutter, another roll of your eyes. “You never do.”

Your sharp tone surprises Aki a bit, puts him on the defensive. The comment makes Aki set his own glass of wine down. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“Obviously not or I wouldn’t be asking you to clarify.”

You fidget with the hem of your shorts and Aki tries to keep his gaze on your face and not the way your shorts squeeze your plush thighs. He always did love that about you, the curves of your body. The way your form molded perfectly into his. 

Focus. Aki tells himself. Because of course being in such close proximity to you turns his brain to mush.

“You just…any time something very obviously bothers you, you don’t say shit. You just run. You’re like that about everything.”

He knows you’re right. He knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Is this about us?” He asks, cutting to the chase.

You nod, looking straight at Aki. You always looked right at him when you spoke. He admired that about you. The way you said everything with total honesty. You never lied, you never sugar coated the truth. You were far from a coward, unlike Aki. Your eyes bore into his soul and it was something that always scared him. Like you could see all of his intentions, all of his thoughts, of his desires.

“I miss you,” your soft voice cuts through Aki’s train of thought, your confession making Aki sit up straighter, eyes widening. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t say that. After everything, after all this time—“

“I miss you, too,” Aki breathes. He can hear his blood rushing through his ears, thrumming loudly and he tries to calm his racing pulse so he can hear what you say next.

You sigh quietly next to him. “You do?” 

Aki nods. “I missed you the second I ended whatever we were doing.”

“Then why did you?” You shift closer to Aki. “End things, I mean.”

Aki watches you closely, remembers what it was like to lounge around your place or his and just talk. Conversation never felt as heavy as it does in this moment. 

That uncomfortable feeling in Aki’s chest begins to take over. The one that caused him to confront how deeply he cared for you. The one that scared him so badly he ran. Usually, he’d head outside for a cigarette to try and rid himself of this feeling but tonight, as he stares into those beautiful eyes of yours, it feels different. Listening to you laugh and talk to Aki like he didn’t break your heart, like no time has passed, it makes that feeling a little less terrifying. He wants to run, but not from you. He wants to run towards this feeling, embrace it to the best of his ability. 

“I got scared,” he admits quietly, ashamed. But he’s already starting to open up. He has to keep going. “I’m going to be completely honest with you here, okay?”

You nod, wide eyes locked with Aki’s. “That’s all I’ve wanted from the beginning, Aki.”

You give him a soft smile and Aki reaches forward, grasping your hands in his.

“When we first started sleeping together, it was…great. Casual, fun, easy.”

“Right.”

“But, after a while it got harder and harder for me to keep it that way.” Aki pauses, tries to gather his thoughts before he continues. “It got harder to separate that I’m just the neighbor you fuck from time to time. The lines got blurred somewhere for me.”

He sighs your name.

“When I’m with you, you consume everything. All I can see is you. All I want to see is you. And we were never exclusive. You could see other people and so could I. But I didn’t want to see other people…” He sighs again, this time running his fingers through his hair before he takes your hands in his again. He wants a cigarette so fucking bad right now, but he needs to finish his honesty hour now or he never will. “I didn’t want you to see other people. Fuck, I still don’t.”

“Aki…” you breathe, squeezing his hands gently.

He chuckles dryly. “You have no idea.”

Your head tilts to the side, curls bouncing atop your head with the motion and Aki’s heart beats even faster.

“You have no fucking idea how hard it is to see you with another man, to hear you laughing and talking in the hall with some random fucking guy and inviting him in. I don’t…I don’t think I smoke more than when I hear that sound.”

There’s a long pause, your eyes searching Aki’s. For what? He’s not sure. But it must be good, because when you speak, it’s a quiet and gentle tone. Aki can appreciate this because he’s damn near about to burst with nerves from being so open with you already.

“If you felt that way all this time, Aki…why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“What would you have said if I did?”

“I would’ve said I feel the same way.”

You close the distance between you and Aki, your legs coming over each side of his lap as you straddle him. You loop your arms around his neck, Aki’s hands coming up to rest on your waist as you lean forward until your noses brush against each other’s, breaths mingling in the tiny space between you.

“Y-you feel the same way?” Aki repeats. He feels dizzy now, partly from being in such close proximity to you and from the fact that you smell so goddamn good. He can barely focus.

You nod your head, your nose caressing Aki’s with the motion. He can feel the heat radiating from between your thighs, teasing him in gentle waves. His grip on your waist tightens as he resists the urge to roll his hips upward. 

“I don’t want to see you with anyone else either, Aki. And I don’t want anyone else,” you confess. “I only want you.”

It’s all he needs to hear before he surges forward, crashing his lips into yours, shoving his tongue into the warm cavern of your mouth when you gasp in surprise. It’s a messy kiss, full of teeth, full of desire, full of emotion, full of love.

Aki loves you. Deep down he’s always known it, always ignored it. But right now as you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer to you, as you moan into his mouth and pull a whimper from deep within his chest, he knows for certain that he is head over fucking heels in love with you.

There’s no one else in this world who he wants to be with more than you. No one who makes Aki feel the way you do and his only regret is that he was too stubborn to embrace this feeling before.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it though because you seat yourself comfortably in his lap, closing the distance between your groins and he can’t stop the groan that rushes out when he feels your clothed parts connect.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs into your mouth. “I fucking missed you.”

“Yeah?”

You move your hips against his and Aki squeezes your waist, presses his face into the crook of your neck where he sucks a mark into your skin, making you moan quietly.  “Fuck yeah,” he murmurs against you.

“Ah–Aki,” your fingers tug at his hair. He loves when you get needy like this. And you’ve barely started. “Show me how much you missed me,” you whisper.

He pulls back, his deep blue eyes watching you move your hips against him and he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the sight. Aki thinks he may lose his mind just watching. He glances up quickly, watching the way your kiss swollen lips part as you let out another moan.

“Feel good, baby?” Aki asks, smirking to himself when you can’t do anything but nod your head. His eyes follow all the dips and curves down your body until they’re back on his favorite spot between your legs. He could swear he feels his own eyes dilate when they see the wet spot in the center of your shorts that grows and grows with each roll of your hips. Aki swallows hard before he drags his finger along your clothed pussy. 

His gaze glides back up your form until they rest on your face, watching as your mouth falls open with a silent cry. Aki slides a hand down your waist, to your ass where he taps one of your cheeks a couple times, and you know what it means. You sit up, momentarily hitting pause on your movements as Aki slips his finger underneath the fabric, tugs your shorts and panties to the side before his slender fingers slide along your folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how wet you are. He briefly dips his finger into your pussy, trying to stop his eyes from rolling back when he feels your soft walls clench down on his hand. He presses his thumb to your clit, slowly circling your sensitive nub. 

Your hands have now found purchase on Aki’s shoulders where you squeeze, breaths coming rapidly as Aki pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth. He knows you’re trying to be quiet, but he wants nothing more than to hear all those little sounds he used to get you to make.

Dark blue eyes lock with yours and Aki brings his other hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip, slowly coaxing your mouth open. “I wanna hear you, baby,” he tells you. “I want that asshole next door to know who’s making you feel so fucking good tonight.” He slips another finger into your pussy, presses his thumb against your clit and watches you visibly shudder above him. His cock aches within the confines of his pants.

“Ah– fuck, Aki, yes,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Louder,” he demands. And you obey, throwing your head back with a loud gasping moan as Aki’s hands push you closer and closer to the edge. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he coos, his dick only growing harder. “I love hearin’ you. Love makin’ you feel good. I love you.”

You’re his now and Aki wants everyone to know. He wants the piece of shit next door to hear you through the walls, screaming Aki’s name. Hell, he’s even tempted to dial up your asshole date, let him listen while Aki rips one orgasm after another from you. He’d really enjoy that. The thought is so tempting. But Aki’s gaze falls to where his palm cups your slick covered cunt, where your thick thighs tremble around his hand and he doesn’t give a fuck about any of that anymore.

He slowly thrusts his fingers inside of you, while his thumb stimulates your clit and he’s panting trying to hold himself together while you get closer to falling apart around him. Your hips move on their own, riding Aki’s hand, chasing your high. His fingers slip into you over and over, curling inside of you, hitting your sweet spot and you can’t help but to gasp quietly each time Aki reaches it. 

You’re more vocal now, your head hidden away in the crook of Aki’s neck while you whimper and groan against him. He loves hearing you keening his name into his ear. Aki’s eyes are locked on your center where he watches his fingers disappear into your cunt over and over, your slick coating his hand more with each thrust. It only adds to Aki’s struggle to keep it together as he ignores the pulsing need of his cock. Your pleasured moans and the squelching sound of your dripping pussy fill the space of your living room.

“Aki…” you breathe harshly against him and he feels your walls squeeze down on his digits. You’re close.

“Gonna cum, love?” His fingers thrust into you slightly faster. He pushes you back, moving you out from the space of his neck so he can look at your face. “Let me see, baby,” he says, voice rough as his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head, your mouth hanging open as a delicious moan rushes past your lips, your grip on Aki’s shoulders tightening so much it hurts. But he loves it, loves feeling your pussy squeezing down on his fingers, sucking them deeper as your release moves over your body.

He can feel your release dripping down his fingers into his palm as he keeps pumping into you. You lean forward, returning to your favorite spot at his neck where you leave sloppy kisses. He tilts his head to the side a bit to give you more access, groaning when you lick the spot right beneath his ear.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so perfect,” Aki sighs as he watches himself slowly pull his fingers from inside you, licking his lips as he stares at his hand covered in your slick. He runs his tongue over his palm, groaning loud when he tastes your sweet release on his tongue. His dick is so unbearably hard as he watches you suddenly climb off of his lap, slide your hands into your shorts and strip off both your shorts and your panties. Your shirt and your bra fall to the floor next and Aki feels very overdressed now. 

His eyes drink in every little bit of your body. God, he missed every bit of you. That smooth brown skin and every dip and curve and those fucking thighs. He wants to be between them so fucking bad.

“You gonna stare all night or take your clothes off?”

Aki yanks his shirt over his head, his boxers and shorts are off next, a smirk spreading across his face when he sees how you lick your lips when his cock slaps against his belly when it’s finally free.

You approach, bending over to put your hands on Aki’s knees, prompting him to spread his legs for you. He can’t take his eyes off of you as you fall to your knees between his legs. You’re so sexy when you take control like this.

“Wanna make you feel good too,” you tell him, a hand coming up to grip the base of his cock and Aki’s hip involuntarily jerk upwards. His head falls back, a low moan already escaping him.

He’s missed your touch. He’s already worked up from making you cum and he’s missed you touching him so much he doesn’t know if he’ll last very long if you do what he thinks you’re about to.

Aki watches as your tongue rolls out of your mouth, pink and wet and he inhales sharply when he sees the little grin you get as his cock throbs in your hand.

“I missed this dick, Aki,” you whisper, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to the red tip. He hisses, hips coming up again as he whimpers your name. You bring your other hand up to wrap around the head of his dick, tongue teasing the smooth, wet head for just a moment before you take him in your mouth. Aki’s chest rises and falls with shallow breaths as he watches you swallow inch after inch of him. He lets out a strangled moan when the head of his cock touches the back of your throat.

“Goddamn, baby,” Aki chokes. “Gimme a second. Hold on.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, takes a deep breath to try and gain his composure…only to let out something between a sharp gasp and a loud whimper when you swallow around the head of his cock, taking Aki even deeper. You hum around his dick, the vibrations making Aki arch against the couch and thrust his hips forward.

“Oh fuck,” Aki groans. And he wants to grab your hair and push you down further, but he doesn’t want to fuck up your curls. He knows how hard you work to maintain them. He opts to bring one hand to your jaw, holding your face while your lips work up and down his length, Aki shivering at the way your tongue worships the veiny underside.

You hum again as your head bobs up and down, up and down, taking Aki impossibly deeper down your throat every time. More vibrations and your fingers come up, caressing his balls, the skin tight already as Aki squeezes his eyes shut and tries so hard not to cum down your throat. “Ah–shit, shit!”

You pull off Aki’s cock with a loud POP, sucking in a deep breath as your hand strokes him up and down. Aki is grateful for the small break because he was so close to literally drowning you in his release if you kept sucking his dick the way you were. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Your chin is dripping with your saliva. Aki stares through hooded eyes as you lift your other hand to wipe it away and he can’t help but to fall even more in love with you. You’re breathtaking, sexy, everything he’s ever wanted and in this moment he swears to himself that he’ll never let you go again.

“You’re so pretty,” Aki blurts. “My pretty girl.” He can’t help himself. He’s got tunnel vision. Only for you. His heart is pounding against his ribcage as he gazes at you lovingly. He leans forward. Reaching his hand out, he cups the back of your neck and pulls you to him, slamming his mouth against yours. A deep, guttural groan transfers from his mouth to yours, a result of tasting the mixture of your release and his arousal on his tongue and your hand still pumping his cock between you two. It’s dizzying. Aki won’t last much longer.

“C’mere,” he grunts, pulling you up from the floor. “Bend over for me, baby.”

And you do as he asks, climbing on to the couch and bending so that you’re on all fours.

“Aki…” you whine, wiggling your ass for him teasingly. Damn, he missed this. He chuckles, softly slaps your right cheek and then your left, groaning when he sees the way your ass jiggles for him. 

Yeah, he’s definitely not gonna last long with this view.

Aki readjusts his position, one knee on the couch and the other foot on the floor. In this position, he can see how wet you are, practically dripping for him. He loves seeing you like this. Ready and wanting– wanting Aki and Aki only.

“Ready, baby?” He asks.

“Yes, Aki, fuck me, please…” you moan. “I need you so fucking bad right now, Aki.”

Aki takes his cock in his hand, squeezing hard and stroking, a bead up precum dripping onto your couch. He’ll apologize for that later, but right now all he wants is to be as deep inside your tight, wet cunt as physically possible.

He guides the tip to your entrance and pushes forward, eyes rolling back with pleasure when he feels the tip barely slide in before your walls and trying to suck him inside. Even so, he resists bottoming out immediately, pushing into you slowly, so slowly until his hips are pressed tight against your ass. You keen into the cushions of the couch, the muffled sound only making Aki more eager to push forward. So he does, skin igniting with goosebumps the deeper he goes.

You feel so. fucking. good. 

Once he’s fully sheathed inside you, Aki places a hand on each cheek, spreading your ass open so he can watch himself disappear into your pussy. You lift your head, glancing back, over your shoulder to look at Aki. He glances up, eyes connecting with yours. And then he drapes himself over you, his skin fire hot against your back, and he pressed a wet kiss to your lips, to that spot behind your ear that makes your pussy squeeze down on him, down your jaw, down your back.

“Fuuuuuck, baby, you feel so good,” he whispers raggedly as he pulls out just barely, then pushes back in again. Aki takes his time, pumps his hips in short thrusts. He slides his fingers down to your clit and rubs in slow circles, grunting when you push your hips down against his hand.

Your face is back in the cushions where you’re moaning a string of incoherent noises, louder and louder as Aki begins to really start fucking into you. His hands are back on your ass, watching his cock drive in and out of your pussy, moaning at the sight of the white cream forming at the base of his cock. 

“So tight, baby, so fucking tight,” he grunts, lifting both hands only to bring them back down to smack your ass. You cry out into the cushions, muffling the sound and Aki reaches around to grab your jaw, pulling you up.

“Thought I told you to let them hear you, baby,” with his free hand he smacks your ass, hard, the loud gasp you let out morphing into a loud moan when Aki gently rubs his hand over the area, soothing it.

“That’s it, let everyone know who’s making you feel good tonight. Every fucking night from now on,” He lets go of your jaw, reveling in the way you no longer hide your whines, moans, cries of pleasure. Everyone in this apartment should know it’s Aki who is fucking you so damn good right now. And it’ll be Aki fucking you like this from now on. No one else. Only him. You’re his and he’s yours.

His hands come down on your ass again with a loud SMACK and you scream Aki’s name, your walls clamping down on his cock. His blue eyes are locked on your ass. To the way those round globes bounce with each hard thrust and he has to see more. He spreads your cheeks, watches your little hole clench around nothing as he fucks into your pussy. He wants to be in there, thinks about sticking his finger in there, wonders what it would feel to cum in there. But he’s not going anywhere. He’ll find out soon enough.

Aki leans forward and presses a kiss to the center of your back, brows knitting together in an attempt to not cum when you moan softly at the gesture. His balls are so tight, painfully so. He needs to cum and soon. 

“Baby,” he breathes against your skin, reaching around to rub your clit again, gritting his teeth when you pant softly into the pillow, your walls fluttering weakly around Aki’s cock and he knows you’re almost there. He rubs tight circles on your sensitive nub, kisses that spot on your back again and you moan a little louder. “Cum for me, baby. Let me hear it.” Another kiss to your back and a particularly sharp flick to your clit. “Give it to me baby. You can do it. Cum for me.”

And you do.

You let out a sharp cry, your moans no longer muffled by the cushions. Your release tears through your body, your walls vice gripping Aki’s cock, sucking him in with no intention of letting go. And that’s it for Aki. His fingers dig into the meat of your ass, forehead pressed into your back as he finds his own release, pumping into you one, two times before he fills your pussy to the brim with his cum. He’s gasping, grunting through gritted teeth as your cunt pulls every last drop from him.

You’re both still catching your breath when Aki pulls out, affectionately sliding his hand down your back before he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you down with him as he lays back on the couch.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, turning to look at him. His cheeks are pink, hair damp and clinging to his forehead. He laughs.

“God, I missed this,” Aki says, pushing his hair from his face. “I love you,” he confesses quietly, kissing your forehead.

“I love you, too.” You roll over the best you can on the couch while your legs feel like jelly and snuggle into Aki’s side. He wraps an arm around you. You’re both quiet for some time, simply enjoying each other’s presence. It’s only when Aki starts to shift that you sit up.

“Will you stay?” You ask, turning toward Aki and brushing his stray hairs from his face.

“Yes,” Aki promises, kissing your head again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[angstigone]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 (𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡)

the title is a lyric from the song 'everybody talks' by neon trees

𝗛𝗮𝘆𝗮𝗸𝗮𝘄𝗮 𝗔𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝗿! 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (+ 𝗗𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗶 & 𝗣𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿)

(A/N): hello there, lovelies!

alrightie, I am... I am not going to lie, aki dragged me into this fandom as well, as I have been thinking of slowly getting more into animes, now that I feel less the social struggle of it. still, I hope you'll enjoy this silly little thing and I have another fic with neighbor! reader (an au of sorts, far angstier as it's my usual).

so, pls, if you enjoyed this, pls consider leaving a like, a comment or a reblog and I'd appreciate it a whole loooottt!

SUMMARY: «Alright… alright… let’s take this from another perspective» he started again while Power got her own drink, having Denji open it for her as it ruined the pretty nails you had painted for her«… Hayakawa is a huge pain in our ass, isn’t he».

«He is» Power relented as she duked her head low in obvious displeasure.

«… but…» and Denji held up a finger in utter conviction «… if he got laid! Then the problem would be solved! And he doesn’t seem the type to bang somebody he meets in a bar… or he’d have probably hit it off with Himeno by now… don’t you think?».

Power seemed to consider it for a moment and right when Denji thought that his partner got it, she screeched. «I don’t see how getting laid might solve it!» and after a moment of meditation «… laying down in the bed might help him but…!».

«I don’t mean laying down like that!».

what happens when a fiend and a chainsaw man gets together to make their squad leader and you, his neighbor, happy?

WARNINGS: fluff, (bad) matchmaking, denji and power playing cupid, not canon compliant (himeno doesn't have a crush on aki) and the characters might be slightly ooc, getting together, requited unrequited love, unresolved sexual and romantic tension, mentioned sexual harassment, 5+1 things, jealousy, idiots in love, reader genre is not specified but a few characters reference them being a lady.

Denji might have been considered an idiot by the large variety of the adults around him, but he did notice things.

Such as the way topknot would always be more smiley and far more relaxed whenever you – his adorable neighbor – were around the house, by now living there more than in your own apartment.

Not that he minded the thing in itself: you were kind, not focused onto hunting devils and baked him and Power a treat every weekend.

You were also pretty.

Not on Mrs. Makima’s pretty level, certainly, but Denji had stolen a look as you leaned a bit too close to Hayakawa, brushing accidentally your chest against either his own or his back and God, did the stern head of the squad blushed worse than a teen.

In conclusion, you two were in love but somehow far too stubborn to admit and this where he and Power came to play:

«Think about it!» he muttered as he Power were outside for their patrol stroll, in the service area waiting for their sugary drink «… if they came more often… we’d have treats more often… and I know just how much you love them!».

Denji had also noticed the way that Power, who thought humans all beneath her, was almost warm with you; certainly, eccentric and bold but after having witnessed Nyako brushing against your legs on your first meeting, she had grown much mellower around you, rubbing against you as the cat did and somehow… purring.

Denji had by now stopped trying to police Power’s behavior, still he thought that in this case it was favorable to his general idea, although his friend remained as stoic as ever, even going as far as showing him her tongue.

«Why should we help some humans?» she grimaced lightly as Denji grabbed his beverage from the vending machine «… if they are too stupid to notice their obvious feelings for each other… why should we meddle?».

«Because it’d be fun!» Denji promptly intervened although he understood they had two very different – and violent – definitions of fun and his first argument didn’t have much effect on Power «… and it’d mean that we might get more treats… as I was saying».

«We could simply imprison them in the apartment, and they’d be forced to make us treats»

Power’s mind never failed to amaze – and scare – Denji who simply shook off his head.

«Alright… alright… let’s take this from another perspective» he started again while Power got her own drink, having Denji open it for her as it ruined the pretty nails you had painted for her«… Hayakawa is a huge pain in our ass, isn’t he».

«He is» Power relented as she duked her head low in obvious displeasure.

«… but…» and Denji held up a finger in utter conviction «… if he got laid! Then the problem would be solved! And he doesn’t seem the type to bang somebody he meets in a bar… or he’d have probably hit it off with Himeno by now… don’t you think?».

Power seemed to consider it for a moment and right when Denji thought that his partner got it, she screeched.

«I don’t see how getting laid might solve it!» and after a moment of meditation «… laying down in the bed might help him but…!».

«I don’t mean laying down like that!».

Denji was growing frustrated, unable to explain to power the utter genius behind his plan, clutching his head tightly in his hands as he slowly crumped on his ass against the wall.

«… God, almost… almost pretend I didn’t say anything, I just… thought it’d be fun… and it might get us a bit more of treat and kindness from topknot».

And right as he was losing all hope, Power leaned against him to be at his height, smiling what seemed a pure devious smile.

«… it’s going to be fun?» and at Denji’s obvious nod she cheered almost as if she had been told that she had won the Nobel Prize «… why didn’t you, immediately, say so?!».

And like that Denji’s and Power’s partnership started up to get you and Aki together.

First action: getting rid of the competition.

«… shouldn’t we also get rid of Mrs. Makima?» Power asked as she and Denji stared off Aki’s window to look at the entrance to the apartment building, waiting for your arrival.

It had been a few days that they had met you as they returned from their patrol with a man that you had presented as one of your colleagues.

Still, the way said man flustered whenever you’d chat him up was definitely a sign that he could be a rival to Hayakawa and they couldn’t have that.

«No!» promptly Denji protested, ripping himself from the window, where he was staring through the cones made by his hands.

«Why?» Power questioned also disrupting her watchful gaze on the entrance «… didn’t you say that the topknot has a crush on her?».

And that was also another reason why Denji wanted for you and Aki to get together: if you got together then Aki wasn’t anymore a threat to his conquer of Mrs. Makima.

«Well…» obviously he couldn’t have said that to Power after he had convinced her that what they were doing for the greater good «… well! It’s because we all know that Hayawak has zero… zero chances with Mrs. Makima!».

Power seemed to consider it for a moment before a grim smile appeared on her face.

«… and we would have zero chances of intimidating Mrs. Makima, considering she’s as scary as a bath in the middle of the day» the blood fiend commented, her voice showing the obvious fear they felt towards their leader and Denji couldn’t help but agree by taking a huge intake of saliva, and noticing that you had come back.

Annoying suitor on your tail.

«Hey!» he called out to Power who had noticed the same thing and was barely able to contain the excitement she felt «… let’s go with the next phase of the part, alright?».

And just like that they both rushed to the entrance of the building, waiting hidden that you’d be passing and going up to your apartment, and then they rushed out of the gates with matching mischievous smiles on their face as they were switch, to catch up with your colleague.

He looked the least aware possible of a fiend and a chainsaw devil following him but so wouldn’t be for long as both Denji and Power came to stand in front of him, blocking him from walking further and right as he moved to the side to avoid them, they both matched his step, stopping him in his walk.

Now Denji knew that he wasn’t that scary – and he couldn’t exactly evoke the chainsaws as he knew that Mrs. Makima would have been disappointed with him – but Power had horns.

And even more importantly: a crazy personality.

The poor man seemed already startled as he took a step back, mumbling something that seemed like apologies and just like that Power started rolling.

«Yes! Yes, stupid human, apologize!».

Well, Power shouldn’t have definitely tried for the Nobel Prize when she might have as well won an Oscar for her thrilling performance as she moved closer to the backing away human who looked halfway through running away but, Denji was right there for it, by pushing himself to the shoulders of the man to cut off his escape rout.

«… hey! I am talking to you! Shit of a human!».

«I… I… I…» and pathetically the man went to his knees.

Denji would have felt bad for the man, hadn’t it been for the fact that they were doing this for the greater good: letting Hayakawa have a stable sex life.

«… don’t know… I… am sorry if I…».

«That woman…» now Power had moved closer to the man, lowering herself to further tower over him while Denji made sure to close all the areas around him «… you must let her go! Don’t you understand!».

He looked confused for a moment, before saying your name almost questioningly and that’s when Power evoked her blood hammer, a good scenography bonus that had the man widen his eyes as his arms went to his head waiting for a bow.

«Don’t! Speak! Her! Name!».

With each word, Power smacked the hammer against the palm of her hand and although he hadn’t been hit, he convulsed on the floor as if he had.

Like a pig

«… and don’t ever… ever! Don’t ever come close to her! Understood?».

«But…» he tried to protest although another smack of the blood hammer against Power’s awaiting hand was enough to have him shut up promptly.

«You aren’t to come closer to her than a…» and scrunching her brows at Denji who was holding up five fingers, she went to add «… than at least seven meters! You understand me, silly, stupid human?».

The man nodded heavily and clearly scared for his life and Denji couldn’t help to think that – aside Power’s lack in math – they might have taken the game a tad too far especially as Power was laughing maniacally, spurred on by the man’s terror.

«… alright…» he tried to lean in the thing, by letting the man’s back be free and going to retrieve poor Power, who wasn’t satisfied as she was dragged away by Denji before a crowd could form around the crying man.

«… and I’ll know it! I’ll know it if you come close! Understood?» she was definitely having far too much time on this «… you silly… silly… humannnn».

So, it shouldn’t have surprised that although you reported that your affectionate colleague had suddenly started distancing himself from you – “it’s strange as he was always insistent on walking me home if anything happened, when we finished late” – to Aki, who comforted you – a victory in both Power’s and Denji’s eyes – they got an horrible reprimand – and their sugar privileges revoked – because apparently a fiend and a blond-haired boy had been reported threatening an honest neighbor.

Well, who said victory tasted sweet was wrong.

According to the magazine that he had forced Power to buy for them – something called Teen Vogue with a quiz that told you whether you were a pea, chickpea, or a banana but also a lot of photos of hot celebrities – what got a couple to form was spending time together.

Now, you and Aki didn’t spend too much time together, mostly because you both were hard-workers and especially in the last period neither you nor Aki had been in each other’s apartment at the same time, forcing Power and Denji to take extreme measures, as they had to force you to stay together.

You had come over ahead of time as you had wanted Power and Denji to try a treat that you had done in your free time and to wait Hayakawa’s return at home – according to Power, you, two, were already disgustingly domestic – and although you’d have stayed a few hours to chat with Aki and might have stayed even for dinner, they needed you to spend more time immediately.

Hence while Power distracted you with Nyako, Denji stole your apartment keys from your purse and flushed them; he hadn’t exactly thought the whole thing through, especially as you panicked once while checking your purse after dinner – they both celebrated Aki being the one to ask you to stay for dinner – and didn’t find the keys, worried that you might have lost them or left them inside of the house.

You were panicking and again Power and Denji celebrated because Hayakawa was so sweet with you, calming you down with his usual neutral tone and helping you focus on where you might have last left them.

“I swear they were in my purse!” you promptly repeated, and you were right, hadn’t it been for two special busybodies who feigned utter focus in searching the entire house, although eventually a universal truth was delivered: you must have lost your keys.

The landlady would give you a copy in the afternoon and you now needed a place to stay, for the night.

As you were flipping through some contacts, Denji pipped up the discourse he had readied for himself that afternoon while making sure that the keys would be properly flushed out.

«Why don’t you stay here?».

He even made his puppy eyes.

He had thought of being the one saying something this time, especially as Power had gone a bit… overboard the last time.

«… I mean… I am sure that topknot will agree… it’s… late and if anything happened… God forbids a demon.. or…».

And he had expected sweet and dependable Aki to join in, but the man had just lowered his head in an obvious dismissal.

Didn’t he have a heart for poor you who’d be forced to walk in the dark?

«… it’d be terrible if anything happened to you» he stepped up on the subtlety as Power joined in and nodded eagerly and tried to have Nyako do the same in a show of support «… and we have… we have a lot of space and… I mean you’d be forced tosleepwithHayakawa because Power is a very delicate sleeper and… I am a teenager boy, and it wouldn’t do…».

«That’s very kind, Denji» you sufficed softly with a gentle smile, before nodding to your phone «… but I have a friend who lives in the apartment complex right beside this one and…».

«But you might never know» God, Denji couldn’t believe that Power was able to act like that «… humans… you are puny, and I have heard of a fiend terrorizing the neighborhood. They… well… they apparently terrorized this silly-looking and coward man…».

«Power».

Oh, finally Aki did speak, although it wasn’t the ‘oh please, stay! Stay forever if you want’ that Denji had been expecting.

«… did you… did you… flush all the toilette paper confection?».

And right as Denji was trying to understand the reasoning behind such a crass comment and Power was about to defend herself from such a vileaccuse – it had also happened once – he noticed that Aki hadn’t been looking at his shoes but to the water erupting from behind the bath door.

That’s how Denji discovered that you shouldn’t – ever – flush keys in the WC.

The silver lining of it all was the fact that the toilette did push out your keys – and other stuff – and hence you did have them back, while Denji, Power and Aki were forced to sleep at your apartment while they waited for somebody to fix the toilette.

Oh, and apparently Nyako being blamed didn’t seem believable, so their sugar privileges were revoked for another week.

«Hear me out!».

Denji hadn’t relented the plan; he didn’t care that it had gotten him deprived of his candies – both you and Mrs. Makima had sneaked him some – when the purpose of his actions was far more glorious.

And he had come to collect further information about how a couple came to be, especially from experts.

«You want to push them together?» Himeno had asked as both Denji and Power had come to her asking for help.

A horrible decision considering how annoying and crass the woman could be, but Mrs. Makima was out of question and Kishibe would have laughed right in their face, something that Hmeno had done as well.

Then she had spoken to be useful.

«… alright, alright» she had settled brushing her hair off her face with her invisible hand «… you, then, need to make Aki jealous».

At that both Power and Denji had seemed utterly confused: how did making Aki jealous of you would have helped you forming a couple?

Still, Himeno had promptly illuminated them.

«It’s what always happens in romcom» she explained with the air of an expert, although the fact that she quoted movies should have been a huge red flag to her flawed reasoning «… whenever the guy realizes that somebody is threatening their girl… well, he also concludes that he can’t live without her. That he loves her».

And in both Denji’s and Power’s book that perfectly made sense.

Now the difficult part was making Aki jealous; he didn’t seem bothered by anything who could offer a threat to you?

Considering they didn’t have much choice, Denji and Power had to be the ones.

That day you had decided to spend it together with Aki, Denji and Power grocery shopping, which was already a nice start because whenever you’d be around the head of the squad would be far more lenient of the two troublemakers.

Your own good mood rubbing off him, as Power and Denji raced through the aisles on the shopping cart.

Still, this time they hadn’t come to play.

Denji and Power exchanged a swift look and so it began.

«Mrs.!» Denji asked gaining your attention but also the one of Hayakawa who looked at him as one would do to a bug.

An ugly bug right on their toilette roof.

«… did you do something to your hair?».

You looked taken aback, flustering lightly but mostly because you seemed taken aback by the question.

«Ahem… I… washed them… this morning?».

«Oh» he feigned innocence as Aki’s distrustful gaze became more evident and he felt like he might have been on the right road, especially delighted that Hayakawa would feel threatened by somebody like him «… it looks better than the usual».

And although he had meant it as a compliment, it didn’t sound like that as promptly Aki shook his head with a huff while you regarded Denji with a kind but a bit startled smile, saying nothing but a lukewarm ‘thank you’.

As you and Aki turned to focus on the grocery shopping, Power flicked his forehead and muttered:

“Let me try” and before Denji could say anything, she was off to your side.

«Mrs.!» she called out to you as you smiled gently to her «…you are the smartest human, I know».

Shit, Denji cursed himself for not having thought about that, all too focused on the physical side.

He had thought hair to be a safe zone, but he had been so wrong as your smile promptly brightened on your face and you went to gently put a hand over Power’s shoulder, right as the girl opened her mouth again, ruining everything.

«… I mean�� you are still pretty stupid, because I saw you falling on your ass that one time while trying to carry all those grocery bags on your own».

And just like that your easygoing smile was gone replaced by an embarrassed expression while Power turned to Denji to show her his tongue, considering it a victory.

«Power!» Aki reprimanded her promptly, waggling a finger, although he also turned to you with a sober expression «… and please, don’t hesitate to ask for me when you need to carry something heavy… you do live a floor above us and with the elevator not yet fixed…».

You, further, flustered at Aki’s suggestion and although it wasn’t due to the whole jealousy thing, it seemed like you and Aki were now talking.

«I… I mean… I didn’t want to disturb you and…» you looked to your shoes «… you weren’t at home».

«Then please feel free to ask Power and Denji, as they are always not doing anything» and just like that the intimate moment was destroyed and Power and Denji got another reprimand, although this time they hadn’t done anything.

Both Denji and Power relented from the jealousy program the entire grocery store run, thinking it was stupid and neither of them were equipped to have Aki jealous and thinking about it, Hayakawa hadn’t seem even bothered by your colleague accompanying you.

Was it possible that they had seen wrong, and he wasn’t interested in you?

All their hard work couldn’t be for nothing, could it?

As they were panicking – or better Denji was panicking and Power plotting her world domination dream – in the grocery shop parking lot, they witnessed a scene that reinforced their resolution; you were filling the back of the truck with the grocery while Aki was smoking a cigarette a bit far away hidden by the car, when a guy approached you.

Neither Power nor Denji were minding him any attention, till they heard Aki’s voice.

«Leave the lady alone».

And just like that, they both moved their eyes to where the man had grabbed onto your wrist with you looking utterly at unease and clearly wanting to be anywhere but there.

Aki had appeared right in front of the scene and had pushed himself in front of you, right in the line of the man.

«… she said she isn’t interested».

«And who’d you be, dude?» the man asked as both Denji and Power were startled by the fact that man made perfect pristine asshole Hayakawa tick in a way that they hadn’t been able to in a long time «… I was just fucking talk with her».

«And I said I wasn’t interested» you reiterated, clearly at unease, at which both Denji and Power came closer.

Now they might be disasters in relationships but they had no qualms in helping topknot kick this dude to the curb as he had come onto you, the person who baked goods to them and treated them like two teens and not an adult and a monster.

Still, Aki had it promptly handled as the man didn’t seem ready to release your wrist, hence he twisted it in a way that hurt him and wouldn’t bother you, effectively getting him to release his hold and once he had done such a thing, he slammed that same fist in the dude’s face with an agility that gave Denji the chills.

And so happened to the man who had tried to approach you.

«Scram».

It was said in such a neutral tone that suddenly Denji thought that he was face with all too powerful demon and not topknot.

Thankfully it wasn’t direct towards him as the man got the message and left you alone, your wrist still clutched – far more gently – in Aki’s hand as he took a moment to caress it before turning to you.

«Everything alright?».

You nodded painfully out of breath and red in the cheeks, although Denji reasoned that both reactions weren’t due to collusion, but to Aki treating you tenderly as his whole face and demeanor softened turning upon you.

«… he didn’t hurt you, right?».

«Not really» you explained with a soft-spoken tone as if you didn’t want anybody to hear the words aside Aki. As if it was just the two of you «… I… it was so kind of you to intervene, Aki. I am sorry that you had to… though… God, I don’t think it has ever happened to me in sunlight and in the center of a parking lot!».

«It shouldn’t happen at all» Aki commented categorically before he finally snapped back from his reverie, letting your wrist go that fell limp between the two of you as if it hadn’t been ready to let go «… and it wouldn’t have happened if those busybodies had helped you with the groceries! Instead of minding their business!».

Why was it that whenever he tried to do anything for the greater good, Denji got kicked in the metaphorical – and not – balls?

Slowly Denji was losing faith: his own ideas didn’t work, advice on magazine didn’t work and this was the last time that he listened to Himeno.

He didn’t know how to bring you and Aki to kiss kiss make up.

Was it possible that he was simply not meant… to work the greater good? 

Unless, obviously with the greater good you meant the gun demon and the possibility to have his wish grant by Mrs. Makima.

Or maybe it wasn’t his fault: you and Aki were just a desperate case, stealing longing gazes to each other and never acting upon your emotions. Although it seemed like something had changed at work, as Himeno had sneakily told them, since Aki had seemed quite… unfocused and constantly checking his phone which meant – according to the older woman – that he was texting you.

Denji and Power had once tried to steal Hayakawa’s phone, but they had soon risked of finding Aki’s katana shoved up their asses at such infractions and had immediately given up such a thing.

Maybe they should have just stopped and minded their own business as it seemed like this was what best suited the situation.

And Denji was minding his business, looking lightly gloomy as you tried to teach – with little results – to Power how to make cupcakes as she had insisted that she wanted them now and to ease her tantrum you had opted to have her do them with you, while Aki settled the laundry and Denji comfortably lazed around.

Looking gloomy which you immediately noticed.

«Anything of the matter, Denji?» you asked as you left Power to press the baking solution in the mold, trusting that she wouldn’t coat the entire kitchenette with it «… you are looking a bit sad, my dear».

«Eh?» he kissed lightly his teeth, wondering what lie he could come up with to cover the fact that he felt disappointed because his genius plan of bringing you and Aki wasn’t working. Still, Aki answered for him.

«He’s just grumpy because he hasn’t been given enough attention» he hissed almost disgusted with Denji although they were past now the initial hatred «… Mrs. Makima was disappointed with him because he doesn’t seem focused».

«I could say the same to you» Denji whimpered through a lowered octave enough not to be heard by Aki, as you came closer.

«Still, trying to catch Mrs. Makima’s attention?» you lightly teased him, settling in front of him «… isn’t she a bit too old for you?».

«She’s a tad too much for him» Aki muttered happily, as this time Denji flipped him off.

«Oh no need to be mean, Aki!» you called out to him gently, before grabbing both of Denji’s hands and pushing him to his feet «… if you want I can teach you a sure way to impress Mrs. Makima, alright?».

And just like that Denji’s eyes brightened as he nodded eagerly.

You smiled, always gentle and reassuring.

Thinking about it, you were far too much for the old grumpy man, Aki and maybe the universe was doing you a favor by not allowing you to be together with topknot.

«… I’ll teach you how to dance, alright».

And like that you were swift to put one of Denji’s hands on top of your shoulder and another on your waist, just shy of your lower back and enough to have the poor boy flustered, huffing, and wondering whether he could die from the simple contact.

It got even worse when you pulled him closer with a hairline distance between your body before starting to tut a rhythm.

«… now usually it’s the man that guides… which is an antiquated thought, but… oh well, I am blabbering. I’ll guide this time».

And like that you twirled Denji and all the exactment he had felt for the closeness of a hot female body was gone, busy as he was to keep his balance at rhea sudden move much to your chagrin.

«Alright, we’ll start slow» you proclaimed, adjusting the rhythm as you moved up and down and then side-to-side showing Denji all the base moves, although he kept on not getting the full hang of it, stumbling a bit while you patiently repeated the move before a disgruntled Power claimed her own turn at the ‘dance contest’.

Only once pushed back again on the sofa, Denji noticed the way Aki’s lips had lightly quirked up in a pleasant smile, as if he was genuinely happy.

He looked almost… peaceful, which was a weird sight to see on his face and Denji wondered whether something awful would be happening all too soon.

The oven beeped and you separated from Power, who apparently was better than Denji at dancing, to get the muffins and just like that it seemed like the dance contest was finished, everybody all too happy to enjoy the sugary treats while you praised Power for helping you make them, although her help had been abysmal unless you counted the mess in the kitchen that neither of the troublemakers helped clean, leaving it to you and Aki as they took their turns in the bath.

Denji, feeling a bit bad, went to see whether he could help you after his shower – and not totally because he wanted to smuggle another muffin – but as he came in sight of the kitchen he was startled to find a soft music playing in the background alongside your giggles as – ever serious – Aki twirled you with much more ease than you had done with Power and Denji.

He was far better than Power and Denji as a partner and again, he looked genuinely amused as you joined in the general hilarity something akin to intimacy being reached between the two of you as Denji promptly turned around, thinking to have witnessed something far too private for his sight, although he regretfully had to let go of his muffins since Power had no shame and stole his own.

Suddenly spurred on by the kitchen memory, Power and Denji decided one last attempt: they had recently gone to the cinema with Mrs. Makima, a memory that the boy treasured dearly in their heart, but both he and Power had especially been hit by a scene of the movie where the main couple exchanged a romantic dinner, using it to confess each other’s feelings.

And just like that Denji and Power had their own final plan.

If it didn’t work, you’d have to handle your own, you and topknot. Denji did like you both, but the next step was just to smash your head together and scream ‘now kiss’, an idea he wasn’t especially fond considering that while Aki would have straight up killed them, you would have stopped baking them any good.

So, the dinner it was. 

After all, how hard could a dinner be?

Very, apparently.

Ordering everything from a nearby shop had been an idea, but neither he nor Power had enough money having mostly spent it in magazines, candies, and drinks on their patrols.

So, they had to improvise and neither of them had the skills to cook.

Empowered by the muffins episode, Power insisted to prepare the dessert, leaving Denji to the main course.

Naturally he had read somewhere that some specific foods could be used to put people in the mood and God knows how much Hayakawa needed to fuck.

Hence without thinking he had thought of making an omelet with asparagus and saffron as he had both the things at home.

The problem started with the eggs; they were difficult to crack without the external shell not going in them and when it came to cook the eggs, he had a bit of difficulty in turning them as he had seen in TV, burning every and each one he tried, till he obtained a somewhat nice result.

The asparagus didn’t help, and the saffron stole the entire flavor of the thing, as Denji dutifully tasted the meal to assure it’d be up to your taste.

He couldn’t serve such a thing and yet, there wasn’t anything else he could have offered for the romantic dinner.

He turned to Power, hoping she had succeeded in something, just to see her trying to use Nyako as a rolling pin, effectively contaminating the whole muffin baking base.

They were royally fucked, especially as you came in.

They both hid behind the kitchen counter, as was the plan: the table was already set with a candle that they had found and that wasn’t as beautiful as the one in the movie but smelled of lavender that was supposed to be calming.

A bottle of wine – that they had grabbed from the top shelf, jumping one over the other – was opened and technically both Power and Denji should have been in their uniform feigning to be waiters.

But the meal wasn’t ready and the kitchen was a mess.

Everything aside the romantic dinner they had planned.

“What did you try to do, busybodies?” Aki promptly asked once he got to them, while you tried to lenite his harsh words “… how many times have I told you not to cook unsupervised? And… you shouldn’t use the phone but for emergencies! We both rushed here…”.

«Aki» you promptly caught the topknot’s attention «…I think that they might have meant well. For once».

Your eyes were set upon the dinner table with what could only be described as a tad of emotion while looking over the elegant set up – Power and Denji might have fucked up the food, but they certainly hadn’t done the same with the table – before turning to the two troublemakers with an inquisitive look.

«But why only two plates?».

And before either Power and Denji could reply with the obvious statement that it was for the romantic dinner between you and Aki, you moved to where the cutlery was kept – by now more at ease with Aki’s apartment than your own – and got a few plates out while the topknot followed you and grabbed the glasses, catching your drift without words.

«… if this needs to be a celebratory dinner, we should be I four».

And turning to Denji with a provocative smile you added:

«Don’t tell me that the idea was for you and Power to have a romantic dinner?».

Both Denji and Power felt more disgusted by that insinuation than the rotten food that they had prepared that night, grateful when you simply suggested ordering pizza to ease their tormented souls.

Well, at least this time the plan hadn’t backfired.

Denji, after endless nights spent in a general state of alarm, had developed a rather light sleep, waking himself up at any slight noise, which was especially troublesome when a snoring fiend was sleeping beside you.

Still, it wasn’t Power the reason behind his suddenly awake status as he held footsteps coming from the other room, and the giggles.

Your giggles.

And yet, you hadn’t stayed over. You hadn’t even come over that night, feigning yourself busy with some work matters much to Power’s and Denji’s disappointment who had hoped to spend some time with you now that Aki had been dismissed by the hospital.

You did visit them, but with work you had had just the time to drop some meals over, before going to the hospital as well to visit poor sweet Hayakawa after his last fight against an annoying demon.

Hence your sudden presence seemed almost a dream and Denji shook lightly Power, risking being bitten in a leg as the fiend didn’t enjoy being woken up – her sleep being especially heavy with Nyako on her chest, as was the case – although once settled she also confirmed to the boy he wasn’t hearing fantasies.

You were there.

In their apartment.

And as a second voice joined, they realized you were there with Aki.

Shouldn’t he have been still in hospital? 

Power went to move to greet you and Hayakawa but Denji held her back as a conversation seemed to sparkle between the two of you as he leaned with his ear against the door to catch onto it.

“… can’t believe that she brought alcohol in the fucking hospital” you spoke bubbly and much to the shock of the fiend and the boy, Aki joined your tone.

“It’s fucking Himeno, what the fuck were you expecting?”.

Neither Power nor Denji had heard the man speak so unbuttonedly and they exchanged a determine look before going to open the door with as little to no noise as possible.

“… I think it was her ‘get well’ bouquet of sorts”.

Both Denji and Power moved like spies across the house till they came in the dining room, hidden by the kitchenette and hallway to the rooms to sneak a look to the slumped form of Aki leaning onto you while you helped him to the sofa, before sitting down next to him as a fit of giggles filled the room.

Again, Aki being strangely happy.

“Do you think they…?” and Denji signed the gesture of ‘getting high’ to Power who obviously didn’t understand it, sending him a confused look but whatever she was going to say was promptly stalled by your voice echoing.

«… I think that she was extremely worried for you, Aki» and Denji noticed that your hand had moved to pat gently Hayakawa’s hair, which weren’t put in his usual updo and when he turned lightly, the younger boy couldn’t help but think that he looked so young.

And happy.

«… I was also extremely worried for you».

The tone sobered up immediately.

«It’s my job».

Did Hayakawa sound almost… resentful?

Power did look halfway through giving out her hiding spot to protect you.

«… I… you shouldn’t worry».

«And Himeno should?».

Was that jealousy in your tone?

Was it possible that they had used the wrong tactic, and it was you who should have been made jealous?

«You know what I mean» Aki hissed through his teeth as your hand moved from his hair onto his chin and grabbed it tightly.

Again, Denji had that sensation of when he had caught you and topknot dancing in the kitchen

«… I… don’t want you worrying for me. It’s rotten work».

«Not to me» your voice was above a whimper and Denji had to jumpe from his hiding spot to shush Power.

“He is hurting her!” she protested, trying to bite his fingers.

“They are adults!” he shut back, trying to keep his noise quiet “… they can handle it”.

“It doesn’t seem so!”.

«I can’t…» Aki looked right about unable to be as smart as usual and Denji almost wished he could have had a camera to immortalize this moment «… make you undergo that. I… can’t promise to…».

«You don’t need to».

Your voice was so brave that for a moment Denji thought that you’d have made an even finer Devil Hunter than Aki.

«… you just need to let me love you, Aki».

The ‘l-word’ you had finally said it and Power sent Denji a look of pure victory, although he kept the hold onto her mouth.

«… I…» also Aki seemed taken aback and it took everything in Denji not to curse him out for promptly letting such an occasion «… guess… that’d work… I…».

«Then let me fuss and care for you, Hayakawa» you teased him lightly, making to get up promptly to get the white paper bag on the table with the medication, but before you could, the topknot had stopped you.

You seemed promptly stalled in your steps.

«… does it…».

Still, before any further words could leave his words, Aki brought you into a breathless kiss.

Denji didn’t think that he’d have expected it from his emotionless squad leader, but the way his arms promptly clutched you down to push you further against his lap was anything but cold and neutral.

Power let out a small giggle and when you detached you took a step back obviously taken aback although a warm smile appeared on her face.

«Thank you, then» Aki had the audacity to utter «…for caring for me».

You nodded, without words and both Denji and Power thought that you got this, retreating to their rooms with a pip in their walks, and imagining it the warm voice of topknot through the door muttering.

“Thank you, busybodies”.

Afterall, Denji did it for the greater good.

Tits.

credits for the separators go to: @strangergraphics

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i’ve always loved the way you eat ; suguru geto

synopsis; suguru is a morning person. he likes the serenity of it all; the quiet of the early hours, the expensive feel of his coffee pot. more than anything, he likes bringing you breakfast in bed.

word count; 4.9k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, just comfy morning vibes, fluff fluff fluff!!, suguru being a good soon-to-be husband, lots of petnames, reader is whipped (and so am i) but suguru is even worse, i need him biblically.

a/n; this is my personal essay on why suguru geto is the perfect man and wife. bon appetit !!

something smells good.

as your eyelids flutter open, and you gradually slip out of sleep’s fuzzy embrace, you are engulfed by that one thought. that one sensation.

there’s a sweet fragrance in the air, an unnamed something you can’t place. a force of love.

soft sunrays flit in through the haphazardly closed window blinds of your bedroom, cascading across the floorboards and bouncing off the walls. splotches of sunshine envelop you in a hazy kind of glow; gentle and coaxing, stirring you awake. it feels good on your skin.

indulging in a few more slow blinks, you shift to lie on your back, halfheartedly attempting to chase the sleepiness away. tangled up in silken sheets and fluffy blankets, you stare at the ceiling — but even such a mundane task feels so nice. just wallowing in the tantalizing scent drifting through the bedroom, the flurry of little kisses that the sun smothers you with. 

it’s still early, and you’re still sleepy. outside the walls of your apartment, the sun is rising to its feet, dyeing the world in warm colours; violets and blues melting into pinks and oranges, like an egg cracked open on the canvas of the sky. everything is quiet, not a sound to be heard except for the very distant chirping of cicadas from the trees outside your window. utter peace. like time isn’t even passing.

in the midst of such a precious moment, all you want is to laze around. it’s just that kind of pleasant, mellow morning; the kind that makes you wish the sun would never fully rise.

a satisfied little sigh slips from your lips. content to soak in the heavenly feeling until it passes, your eyes flutter shut — you’re just so sleepy, and the sun just feels so warm. soothing you, making it even harder to stay awake, cradling you in its hazy embrace. sunlit and saccharine.

with the morning fatigue clouding your senses, you don’t even notice the other presence in the room. 

suguru smiles, from his spot by the door — leaning against the wall and gazing at your relaxed expression, an immense fondness reflected in his eyes. taking a moment to silently admire you.

you look so content. tangled up in blankets and pillows, with your limbs outstretched and starfished across the mattress. your hair is a little messy, and you’re drooling just a smidge, wearing his shirt; it’s a couple sizes too big for you, slipping off your shoulder and exposing your sunkissed skin. as suguru’s eyes trail over your features, the fond smile on his face only grows, shifting into something honeyed and giddy. 

you’re perfect, he thinks. absolutely perfect.

a moment passes. then another. suguru continues to stare, as if trying to etch the image of you into his memory. trying to prolong the moment for as long as he can. 

until, finally, he’s had his fill. simply admiring you from afar isn’t enough — he needs to see you up close, needs to hear the sleepy little tilt of your voice. so he opts to make his presence known, voice gravelly and sweet, echoing softly throughout the room.

“good morning, sweetheart.”

softly, your eyes flicker open. the familiar voice sends a tremor of something running through your chest — and suddenly, it feels as if some of the sleep clinging to your skin has been washed away. it’s a little easier to make yourself move, shifting to your side to get a better look at the source of the sound.

and the warmth that blossoms in your chest when your eyes meet suguru’s is almost overwhelming.

(god, he’s pretty.)

suguru looks perfect, in the morning. he looks like the rest of your life. hair a little messy, tied up into a lazy half-done bun, silky black strands cascading down his neck. and wearing a pair of comfy sweatpants that hang a little low on his hips, but no shirt — showing off the curve of his tiny waist, the slight twitch of his arms when he indulges in an idle stretch. 

you try to restrain yourself from ogling his bare chest and arms too much, but it’s tough. frighteningly so. with the sunlight embracing his skin, muscles on full display, he looks a bit like a sculpture. a little too good to be real.

but he is. and he’s yours. and he’s smirking at you, lazily, affectionately — eyes half-lidded as he balances the tray that’s making the room smell so sweet. just standing there, looking so unfairly gorgeous. waiting for you to muster up the energy to respond to his greeting, more than happy to watch the way your eyes soften as they trail across his features in the meantime.

“morning,” is all you can rasp, eyes closing as your cheek sinks deeper into the mattress. a bit too tired to talk to him properly, and a bit too unguarded to look at him without feeling as if your heart is about to leap out of your throat. 

he’s a little too pretty, like this. framed by the hazy sunshine, like something out of a dream. all soft clouds and gentle caresses, the scent of dried lavender, the pitter patter of rain against a windowsill. all things kind and comforting. 

you’re afraid that your heart might give out, if you look at him for too long.

suguru doesn’t seem to mind. he only chuckles, voice deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine. his lips quirk up into a smooth kind of smile, and he’s quick to make his way to your side; crouching down to meet you at eye level after placing the tray on the nightstand.

a hand comes to caress your cheek. the rough pads of his fingers smooth down your jaw, gentle and doting, as if coaxing you out of hiding. as if you’re made of porcelain. suguru always treats you like you’re fragile, like you’re the most precious thing he has.

(because you are, he thinks. more precious than the expensive vanilla extract he used to make the waffles on the tray, more precious than the diamond-clad ring he’s hidden away in a drawer of the guest room. more precious than anything this world has to offer.)

a blissful little sigh slips from your lips, as you nuzzle into his palm. suguru leans forward to smear a kiss against your forehead, overcome with fondness; warm lips lingering on your skin.

the sensation strikes you as just a little heavenly. his touch is so tender, every caress so full of love. instinctual, the way his love bleeds into his touch, trickles down his veins to the tips of his fingers — smoothing along your skin. such a heavy thing, but he just makes it feel so light. 

“still sleepy?” he hums, a little teasing. eyes crinkling, voice bordering on a coo.

and it’s infuriating. the amusement that flickers through his eyes, the way you can tell he’s itching to tease you for being so groggy and tired.

between the two of you, suguru’s always been the one to get out of bed first, to your grave annoyance. and he’s so smug about it. you want to tell him that waking up so early on a saturday isn’t normal, that he’s the weird one for not being sleepy — 

but when he’s cupping your cheek so gently, all you manage is a meek little murmur of mm. one that has suguru stifling a coo, lips curling up into an adoring smile. 

look at you. his sleepy little baby, dyed in sunrays and tiny specks of dust. so effortlessly pretty, tangled up in fluffy blankets, an image so precious he almost feels like he shouldn’t be looking at it. yet he continues to do so, mesmerized.

(suguru doesn’t mind being a little greedy, when it comes to you.)

“i made you breakfast,” he continues, as you melt into his touch. an absentminded action, but almost brimming with trust; the trust you have in him to treat you well. one he’ll always, always affirm. “your favorite. wanna eat with me?”

breakfast.

something in your brain visibly reacts to the sound of the word, shooing away a little of the morning fatigue still clouding your senses. before you know it, you’ve forced yourself into a sitting position, with groggy movements and a soft groan. rubbing the skin beneath your eyes and kicking the blanket off your legs, a little clumsily.

suguru breathes out a soft bout of laughter, low and amused, as you lazily stretch and indulge in slow blinks. his hand goes to ruffle your hair, and all you do is lean into it.

“i’ll take that as a yes,” he teases, eyes full of fondness. you crack a sleepy smile at his amused tone of voice.

suguru’s hands are big, and a little rough, but still so very soft. you could spend hours tracing them — from the tips of his fingers down to the veins of his wrist, across his knuckles littered with small scratches and barely visible scars. stories of his childhood, that he loves telling you about, almost as much as you love hearing them.

you love his hands. they’re so pretty. so warm and grounding, as they smooth down your hair, unmistakably caring. the weight of them is a comfort, as his fingers card through your bedhead, scratching softly at your scalp. a sensation that makes you feel all fuzzy inside.

suguru is just so good to you.

and you’re only further reminded of that fact when your gaze trails over to the assortment of breakfast foods he’s prepared, neatly stacked on the nightstand. all your favorites, made with so much love; and it’s so evident, even just in the presentation. the freshness of the strawberry slices, the perfect amount of syrup spread over the waffles. the cup of coffee made just the way you like it.

maybe it’s the morning fatigue, or just the softness of the moment. the intimacy, so palpable you can almost reach out and touch it. or maybe it’s something else entirely — whatever the cause, you feel your eyes get somewhat glassy. 

a meek little sniffle leaves your lips, and it catches even you off guard.

suguru blinks. suddenly alert, his morning-fatigued brain trying to comprehend the sight of your teary eyes. brain spinning in circles, not sure if it should be telling him to panic just yet. something in him constricts, twists and turns, a desperate kind of yearning to protect you.

but before he can even reach out to wipe away the wetness with his thumb, you’ve latched yourself onto him.

arms snug around his waist, face tucked under his chin. fitting into him like a puzzle piece. breathing in the remnants of the cologne on his neck; a nice bergamot mix that you like, so he sprays on a little extra just for you. so close to him that you can feel the patter of his heart against you, as you soak in his body warmth. 

and his arms find their way around your form just as naturally, without him even having to think. like every bone in his body was born with a desire to cradle you close. like he was crafted in the image of someone made to soothe you. 

being in suguru’s arms is pure bliss. the most grounding sensation you know, one that never fails to calm you down, no matter how stressed or anxious you’re feeling. with his broad chest and strong arms, his bergamot-scented skin. so doting, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, trying to console you. his hair tickles your cheek a little, but it’s comforting.

”what’s wrong, honey?” he questions, voice set on a low, particularly soothing lilt. coaxing, almost cooing — a tone that buzzes with safety. his big hands go to rest on your head and back, smoothing down your spine.

”nothing,” you sniffle. feeling a little silly. ”you’re just too perfect. ‘s not fair.”

a pause. 

then, a chuckle bubbles up from suguru’s throat. something fond and delightful unfurls in his chest, a kind of relief; a feather-light amusement.

(you’re so ridiculous, he thinks.)

but you only nuzzle further into his neck, all sleepy and affectionate — and it stirs his heartstrings in a way that makes him feel rather helpless. crumbling beneath your touch. gazing at you with soft eyes, a happy little hum buzzing in his throat.

he takes you in, in all your clingy glory; so impossibly sweet. maybe he should have sprinkled some sugar on the strawberry slices, just to see if the taste could ever measure up.

”ah, is that so?” he drawls, a lazy amusement flickering through his eyes. playful. ”i’m sorry, baby. i should be the one saying that to you, though.”

but you just shake your head, arms tightening around his midriff. as if offended that he’d have the audacity to brush off your objectively correct statement, to even think to deny how perfect he is. 

and suguru raises a brow at you, in tandem, a mild protest resting on the tip of his tongue — offended at your blatant disrespect, shaking your head at his factually correct words, as if disagreeing with your own evident perfection. 

but before he can even begin to fight you on the topic, you part your lips to speak.

”thanks for breakfast, sugu,” you sleepily murmur, biting back a yawn. still a little meek, but oh so loving. ”i would die for you.”

he stills, once more. then another soft bout of laughter escapes his lungs, rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm. it makes you feel so terribly safe.

“there’s no need for that,” he assures you. ”don’t you wanna eat instead?”

to his surprise, he’s met with another soft shake of your head. so snug in his embrace that you could practically live there, only clinging to him a little tighter with a huff.

”just wanna hug you first…” you yawn, arms squeezing at his waist affectionately. shifting in his hold until your lips find their way to his neck.

”i love you,” you mumble, kissing down his jaw and collarbone. sleepy, open mouthed pecks, trailing over the expanse of his pretty skin. ”so much.”

it tickles, a little. suguru digs his teeth into his cheek, ever so slightly, just to hold back the giggle that threatens to break out from his throat.

and it’s maybe just a little too sweet, the sensation that blossoms in his chest, something honeyed and flowery; fluttering deep within his ribcage, like a dragonfly buzzing and trying to break free. it gets him a little weak in the knees.

to distract himself from the voice in his head urging him to go get the ring in the guest room drawer right this instant, suguru scoops you up. cradling you close, as he plops down on the mattress, legs crossed to give you space on his lap.

you don’t protest, only snuggling a little closer — as if yearning to tuck yourself away within his ribcage. 

and suguru chuckles, the deep tremor of his voice reverberating through his chest, echoing in your head as you listen to the rhythmic beating of his heart. rubbing your back with a teasing smile, pressing a kiss against the crown of your head.

“i should make breakfast more often if it’ll get you like this,” he grins, basking in the warmth of your body against his. 

a little whine falls from your lips. muffled into the curve of his shoulder, against his bare skin. “it’s not about the breakfast,” you pout, looping your arms around his neck. “it’s everything you do…”

a heat rises to your cheeks, a little embarrassed at the sappiness you’re exuding. but the sun feels so nice on your skin, and the bedroom smells so good, and the whole world feels so kind. 

inhaling the fragrance of bergamot and coffee, you can only fall apart at the intimacy of the moment. 

“i’m really grateful…” you murmur, resting your lips against his skin. buzzing with a warmth that has him shuddering. “‘m just bad at expressing it.”

suguru’s eyes soften. melting into a tender hue, like that of a creamsicle sunrise sky. a dreamy look smoothes over his features, and a fond hum buzzes in his throat.

“nah, you’re fine,” he drawls, squeezing at your hips affectionately. pulling away ever so slightly, just to plant a kiss on your forehead, brushing your bangs away with a certain bleeding tenderness. “you don’t need to say it out loud. i know, anyway.”

and he does. suguru understands you better than anyone; a point of immense pride, for him. knowing you so deeply that he can practically hear your thoughts before you speak them, knowing what you need at a single glance. just from a certain furrow of your brows, or the slight tilt of a smile you’re trying to hide. 

always one step ahead, folding your laundry on days you’re feeling particularly stressed out, or giving your hand a comforting squeeze when he notices that you’re nervous. always so attentive. it’s a little overwhelming, but also so comforting — to be so thoroughly understood.

his eyes are warm. full of pure affection, a devotion so heavy it makes your heart stutter in your chest. all you can do is glance down, shyly, slumping your forehead against his bare chest. 

your voice comes out a little strangled, still raspy. a little wobbly in the wake of your adoration.

“i wanna appreciate you…” is muffled against his skin, your lips curled down into a soft pout. and suguru breathes out a flustered little breath, amused — somewhat delighted.

“you can appreciate me by eating a hearty breakfast,” he suggests, a teasing tilt to his husky voice. cradling you just a little closer, as if even the miniscule distance between you is unbearable. as if he needs your hearts pressed together to keep himself intact. “how about that, hm? or would you rather give me a kiss?”

a moment passes, and a sleepy hum slips from your tongue. he feels your lips touch the soft skin of his neck, once more; then you muster up the strength to pull back from his embrace, slumping against his shoulder with your back against the headboard. it takes concentrated effort.

and suguru chuckles, again. odd, how a man who’s normally so put-together can’t seem to ever hide his joy whenever you’re around. but suguru is just a little too weak for you — he can’t help but let you strum his heartstrings along, however you want. any kind of melody you desire.

(it just so happens that no melody sounds prettier than a joyous one, when it’s falling from his lips.)

a lovesick smile painted on his face, suguru watches as you finally dig in. and he thinks it’s precious, the strawberry juice smearing your lips, the contentment in your features as your eyelids flutter shut. a mellow kind of pride swells in his chest with every satisfied hum that you grace him with, every giddy declaration of how delicious it all is. 

there’s something about it he can’t quite explain, can’t put his finger on. something almost otherworldly, in how fulfilled it makes him feel, like he’s lived his entire life just for this moment. just for the sake of making you breakfast and watching you wolf it all down.

suguru doesn’t think there's a single better way to show his love for you than this; cooking for you, putting every last drop of his love into everything he makes. from beverages to pastries, each of them carefully chosen to suit your tastes.

there’s an intensity to the labour, something that brings him great joy. the care and excitement in something as small as the flick of his wrist when he pours sugar into your coffee, or the weight he puts on the kitchen knife while cutting the fresh strawberries he spent four minutes picking out at the market.

there’s something about it that’s just so, so tender. that earnest wish to see you happy and healthy, to make sure you never go hungry. taking care of you. it's pure, domestic, love incarnate. he’s so weak for it, so sappy, but he just can’t help it — suguru loves watching you eat his cooking more than anything.

that, and your blissful little expression is a sight to behold. sunkissed by the morning rays flitting in through the window blinds, suguru thinks you look something like an angel, soft and fleeting and so beautiful it makes his heart squeeze painfully inside his chest. heavy thumps of blood; warmth trickling from his heart to his wrists to the pads of his fingers, as he rubs absentminded circles into the skin of your thighs.

and he thinks to himself that all the happiness he needs is right here in front of him. in this moment, with you tiredly munching on the breakfast he made, sipping slowly from your cup of coffee and savouring every last drop. smiling at him so sweetly, so positively precious that he simply can't resist leaning down to taste the caffeine off your lips. 

everything feels so wonderful, so completely and utterly right. the world feels so kind, like this. a world where all that exists is you, and him, and the sun. heaven on earth.

all of it sends a tremor running through his heart, every slight change of the scene reflected in his eyes. the soft smile on your lips, the way you lean your head against his shoulder and bite back a yawn, the expectant look in your eyes as you feed him pieces of your food with a giddy grin —

suguru thinks to himself that he’d sooner die than give it up. 

as much as he loves sleeping in, loves indulging in your warmth until the sun sits comfortably on the blue canvas of the sky, he loves this even more. loves dragging himself out of bed before the sun even has a chance to peek out beneath the horizon painted pink and purple, tired and groggy, and so disgruntled at the warmth that leaves him when he pulls away from your skin. loves making his way to the kitchen almost in a daze, moving around the open space so very naturally; fingers curling around the lid of the espresso machine, and the crinkled paper bag of pastries, and the carton of orange juice he bought just for you.

just watching the world wake up, basking in the peace and domesticity of it all. basking in the thought of you — you, with your messy bedhead and droopy eyes, always blinking up at him so sleepily when he returns to you in the morning. he loves it all.

the soft little frown that sometimes tugs at your lips when you’re still lost in dreamland, blindly and subconsciously reaching for the empty side of the bed when he gets up to stretch. the weight of your arms around his waist, hugging his back on the somewhat rare occasion that you make your way to him before he makes his way to you. the grumbles against his skin about how he always abandons you on your days off, even if he only does it so he can make you both coffee.

you, in all your glory — now resting against his shoulder as you plop the last strawberry into your mouth, closing your eyes with a blissful little sigh.

and suguru feels so lucky. so very honoured, to be the one you chose. the one and only person who gets to see you like this, when your voice is still raspy and your hair is still messy, and you have crumbs sticking to your soft lips that you're too sleepy to wipe away.

he does so, himself, with an amused little huff that’s really more of a sigh laced with adoration. thumb smoothing over your skin gently, a silent i love you hanging on the tip of his tongue. his fingers find their way to your skin so effortlessly. like they belong there, like they exist solely to trace the softness of your jaw and to cradle your cheek.

”thank you,” you beam up at him, grinning sweetly. 

and suguru knows that you mean it. he knows that you’re grateful, knows not a moment goes by when you don’t notice his affections, no matter how subtle. he thinks you're a little bit silly for worrying that he doesn't. but he thinks you're even sillier for not realizing that you deserve all of it and more, that just that sweet smile of yours alone is more than enough to make up for it.

more than anything, he hopes from the bottom of his heart that you know the opposite is true as well. that he appreciates every single thing you do, notices everything you do for him, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to you.

you're so good to him. always have been. how could he ever bear to not repay you in tenfold?

”you’re welcome,” he smiles, soft and saccharine and genuine. his lips brush against your forehead with a soft peck, one that has your body melting into his just a little more.

breakfast passes you both by in a flurry of warmth, splotches of sunlight and content hums, until you’re lying side by side beneath the blankets once again. curled up close to each other, with you resting on suguru’s chest, cheek smooshed right over his heart. his arm rests on your back, cradling you closer.

”that was delicious,” you chirp, something soft buzzing in your voice as you bite back a yawn. stretching your limbs out lazily, a honeyed smile on your face. ”as always.”

suguru’s a little too tired to fully hide the soft grin that crawls up to rest on his lips, almost smug. awfully happy with himself, and your words of earnest praise.

“yeah? ’m glad,” he hums, looking at you with affection swimming in his eyes. ”i haven’t lost my touch yet, then.”

”of course not,” you exhale, somewhere in between a huff and a chirp. “you could start a whole breakfast diner with your skills!”

the words are teasing, a little much, but laced with a syrupy sweet sincerity that has suguru’s heart doing laps in his chest. thump, thump, thump — strumming his heartstrings along as you please, conducting the orchestra inside his ribcage. but he’d much prefer to think of you as his muse.

a low chuckle rumbles through his body, akin to a purr. buzzing right by your ear, as his fingers curl around yours, his thumb rubbing soft circles into the skin of your hand. ”you think so?” 

an eager nod, as you gaze up at him happily. the sight makes his lips twitch upward, and he can only hope you don’t catch the way his heart skips a beat.

smoothing a large palm over your head, he tousles your hair fondly. ”yeah?” he chuckles, again. “you'll be my first customer, then.”

the smile on your face widens. ”will i get a discount?” you ask, a fuzzy contentment in the way your eyes glimmer. ”since i’m your favorite.”

suguru grins. a husky puff of laughter seeps out of his throat, filling the air with a palpable fondness. it’s almost overwhelming, the affection that simmers in his chest, a cup overflowing. he wants to reach over and smother you in kisses, wants to coo at you. wants to tell you how irresistable you are, like this; so cute and sleepy that he thinks you could probably coax him into giving you every star in the sky.

but that can all wait for another time. he doesn’t want to break the peace of the mellow moment, the subtle intimacy that lingers in the air. the playfulness in your words.

”of course,” he simply says, indulging you with a sweet smile. ”you’ll get all the discounts you want, baby. nothing less for my favorite customer.”

suguru’s eyes crinkle, brimming with love when he hears the happy little giggle that tumbles from your pretty lips. so pretty that he can’t resist pulling you a little closer, to give you another kiss — relishing in the way you soften against him. like you could fall asleep just like this, so safe and comfortable. breathing him in.

sunlight shines in through the window blinds, engulfing you in that familiar heavenly hue. your bedroom almost seems to glow, like a hazy polaroid, a moment that feels too precious to put into words. 

you look stunning, he thinks, with your droopy eyes and sleepy yawns. absolutely breathtaking. soaked in a brightness rivaling that of the sun herself, the most precious thing this world has to offer.

and suguru thinks to himself that this might just be it. that this might be all that he needs, all that he’ll ever need — but he already knew that.

he thinks of sunrises. of soft embraces and fluffy blankets, of expensive coffee pots and diamond rings, of the way your lips curl up every time he kisses you. he thinks of the light of morning, how it always seems to devour everything else. how it makes every sliver of darkness seem so inconsequential.

he thinks of how your presence always seems to do the same. 

when suguru looks down, pulled out of his lovesick stupor by the sound of a little snore, you’ve fallen back asleep. cheek squished against his bare chest, drooling a smidge as you dream so prettily, your chest rising up and down in a rhythmic serenity.

his heart flutters. fleeting and giddy, a little dove trapped in his chest. with a sweet coo, he reaches over to caress your skin with the back of his hand, careful not to wake you — so gentle that he holds his breath, as if afraid that even a single exhale could disrupt your well-deserved rest. 

butterflies dance in his stomach, when he sees the way that makes you smile. a whirlwind of them, wings fluttering eagerly, as if attempting to fly out of his throat. he gulps them down again, but he can still feel them. just like he could when you first met.

butterflies that still haven't gone away, despite how long you’ve been together. butterflies that never will go away, as long as there are plates to fill and breakfasts to be made.

in other words, they're there to stay — forever and ever.

(suguru’s gaze falls on your ring finger. he thinks of the secret in the bottom of the drawer, and wonders what kind of breakfast he should make for you when it’s time to bring it out.)

[witchywcmans]

NEEDY. | AKI HAYAKAWA

synopsis ━━ you were in need of a roommate, and aki hayakawa needed a place that wouldn't ask any questions. you went to work during the day, while aki worked late nights. you basically had the apartment to yourself. it was honestly a match made in heaven. but then, you just had to come home one day and catch your roommate in a precarious situation. (aki x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ voyeurism (just a wee bit), sex-deprived aki 🫶, but also possessive + jealous aki, masturbation, dirty thoughts + wet dreams, fingering, praise, multiple orgasms, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, kinda au (we're not mentioning the gun devil arc), aki has lived to see 26 + reader being a similar age, some religious imagery. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 5.1k

song inspiration ━━ dealer, lana del rey / friends, chase atlantic / double fantasy, the weeknd

author's note ━━ hi.....hello.........so this idea has been in my head for a little bit, and I realize roommate aus like this are simply not that original, but god dammit I just needed to get this out of my head. anyway, I lurrrrrv sex deprived aki. shout out to my friend hollis for screaming about this with me hehe 💓

The most words you had ever said to your roommate were on the day you interviewed him before he moved in. You immediately noticed that he was strange, but also shy and seemingly harmless. When you had asked why he needed to move in so quickly, he had said something along the lines of a “toxic environment” with his previous roommates: “Denji and Power are just too noisy and reckless. They’re four years younger than me. I need a place less chaotic.” You had been interested in getting to know more – you were curious, after all, about your potential roomie – but once he mentioned that you’d probably never see him because he worked nights, you were sold.

Aki Hayakawa was your new roommate.

He had never been more excited to finally get away from Denji and Power and the tumultuous mess they had turned his apartment into. He was older now; he needed something for himself, even if it was with a roommate. Being a Public Safety Devil Hunter, he needed a place that didn’t think twice about him, a roommate who didn’t ask questions. That’s what he liked about you: your place was on the right side of the city, and you looked at him like he was normal. The Fox Devil said you weren’t going to be good for him, but Aki tended to ignore them anyway.

You had helped him move into your second bedroom just a week later and he hardly said a word, except to ask you who had formerly occupied this space. You were hesitant to talk about it at first, but you cracked soon enough: “My old best friend lived in here. We had rented this place together, but we … aren’t exactly speaking anymore,” you admitted, setting a box down at his feet. “I came home from work one evening and found my boyfriend cheating on me with her. It had been going on for months, right under my nose.” You looked away when you felt your eyes start to sting with tears, sniffling them away. “Friends come and go, I guess. But I’m thankful you, at least, worked out to rent this space.”

“Well,” he sighed, opening up the box as you turned back to him. He smirked. “I promise I won’t sleep with your boyfriend.”

You had laughed, and what a pretty sound it was. After move-in day, Aki was true to his word that you almost never saw him. You worked a normal 9 to 5, while Aki … well, you had no idea what Aki did. You assumed he was a security guard or something with the hours he worked and how he was always wearing a suit and tie. He was working all the time, even weekends. Sometimes, you would catch him coming home as you were leaving for work, or on Sunday morning as you ate breakfast in the kitchen. He would be too tired to talk, simply waving at you before retiring to his room.

It was almost like living alone … except for notes he’d sometimes leave you on the stove or the bathroom. Or the weekend mornings, when he’d get you a coffee and leave it out for you before going to his room. Or the once-in-a-blue-moon nights when you’d stumble in the early hours of the morning after drinking in the city with some friends, standing out on the deck with Aki as he smoked a cigarette. Nights like those, you could’ve sworn Fate was trying to get you two to see each other, because you would be arriving home at just the right hour and Aki would be getting off work early. And you would find him on the deck in his suit and tie, cigarette hanging from his lips, hair pulled up in his classic topknot. He would find you leaning against the railing in nothing but a short dress, the glitter on your lids making your eyes sparkle even more, and – god, you were just so pretty.

After that night, he started dreaming about you. He dreamed about how your lips would feel against his, what it would be like to have you sleep next to him and rest your head on his chest. He was consumed by thoughts of you under him, how you tasted, the way you’d tremble if he kissed that sensitive part of your neck you told him about one late night on the deck. His need for you was insatiable. In his line of work, there wasn’t much time for dating, let alone sex. He hadn’t been thinking about it that much, especially when he’d been housing Denji and Power, but now … he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Naked. Underneath him. On top. God dammit, he’d have you any way you wanted.

It made him wish he had acted on his instincts that night on the deck: pushing you against the sliding door, his lips crashing onto yours, hiking your skirt up that just barely covered your thighs and using his non-dominant hand (the one that didn’t shake) to feel how wet you were. But alas, Aki Hayakawa was a gentleman. 

You two had been living together for a year. He hardly knew you, but also knew you like nobody else did. He knew how you took your coffee – black with two sugars. He knew the brand of toilet paper you liked. He knew that you liked to hang your coats in the closet on the right side. He knew you drooled in your sleep, and what TV shows made you laugh, and how much your water bill was each month.

He was acting out in ways that were unlike him. If he came home from work and saw you had a guy over, he made his presence known. When you were at the office, sometimes he would go to your room just to smell your perfume, and other times he would steal your panties. (He always gave them back, feeling too shameful. But he did keep one underneath his pillow.) Some nights, he would pretend to leave for work early and you would retire to your room for the night, and then he would hear the familiar sound of your vibrator and – fuck, he had to go to work hard. Again. 

You were taking up too much space in his head. He was becoming distracted at work, thinking about what you were doing during these late hours. Maybe the Fox Devil was right: you weren’t good for him.

But he wasn’t moving out any time soon.

It was a Thursday after work and you were completely exhausted. After attending endless meetings and having to argue with coworkers all day, you left work early and were grateful to have a night alone with some leftovers from the night before. You had completely forgotten Aki telling you earlier in the week that he had this Thursday and Friday off, your mind preoccupied with work responsibilities. Sighing as soon as you walked through the door, you set your bag down and shuffled out of your shoes. You shut the door softly, at peace with the silence. You didn’t even have the energy to get out of your work clothes; you simply padded your feet to the fridge, plucking your leftovers out. It was only when you reached up to the microwave that you noticed the apartment wasn’t as silent as you assumed.

Sounds emanated from another room.

You got on your tip-toes, not wanting to make much noise if there was an intruder, and felt for the pocket knife you always kept on your person. Passing by your bedroom first, you popped your head inside. Empty. Hadn’t been touched since you left this morning. The bathroom was next, and you held your breath as the sounds got even more noticeable. You peeked into the bathroom and … clear. Linen closet: clear. Coat closet: clear. But the sounds only became more clear as you got closer to the end of the hall, Aki’s room, and –

You stopped in front of Aki’s bedroom, the door cracked just enough that you didn’t need to pop your head in to see what was happening. Aki was home, for once, and you … you were watching him through the crack in the door. But how could you not? You knew where the sounds were coming from now, because Aki was the one making them.

His dark hair swept in front of his eyes as he sat back against his pillows. He wore a white t-shirt, while his boxers bagged around his ankles. Grunts slipped from his mouth – that pretty, pretty mouth you'd seen wrapped around a cigarette. And his hand … his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously – desperately – with a pair of your panties enveloping the head. The same red lace panties you thought you’d lost months ago. 

You almost considered walking away, making noise in the kitchen so he would know you were home, but then –

Then, your name left his mouth in a whimper.

He was stroking himself even faster, muttering your name into the silent room with your panties wrapped so nicely around his cock. He was thinking about you, wanting so desperately cum in your panties, wondering if you thought about him when you used your vibrator. You were frozen in place, completely fixated on him as he leaned back against his headboard, his face finally exposed so you could see the way his jaw went slack, the way he moaned out your name. And – oh my god, you should leave –

But you couldn’t. And deep down, you knew there was a dirty part of you that always wanted to see this. Ever since that night on the deck, when you were wearing your favorite dress and all that glitter, and you noticed that he was looking at you in a way a platonic roommate definitely shouldn’t. You had started to think about him late nights when you were alone with your toy. You brought home dates, wanting him to see, giggling when you recognized his jealous expression. You tried to wake up earlier, just to see him when he stumbled through the door. Once, you even did his laundry to smell the nicotine on his jacket. 

The two of you simply couldn’t help yourselves.

And when you watched him finally reach his peak, spilling into your forgotten red lace panties, you realized just how wet the ones you were wearing had become. You watched him grunt as he came, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off his brow. And when he muttered under his breath a soft, “Fuck,” you couldn’t help the short gasp that left your lips.

Aki stalled. Oh, shit. You hadn’t been quiet enough. He sat up more in his bed, pulling his boxers up, and you whipped your back against the wall. You cupped your hand over your mouth, praying he wouldn’t come out and see. But he was whispering, “Who’s there?” And you only had enough time to move ten feet down the hall before you heard the creak of his soles on the old floorboards.

“Fuck,” he muttered, louder this time.

Your back went straight, and after what felt like an eternity, you slowly turned to face him. “Aki,” you put your hands up in surrender, “I didn’t see anything –”

“Oh, what the fuck,” he shook his head at himself, quickly walking back into his bedroom. You were stunned, not knowing what to do, as he continued talking to himself in the room: “Stupid fucking idiot not closing the fucking door. What the fuck? What the fuck? My worst fucking nightmare. Fuck, why do these pants always get caught around my ankles? I need to get out of here. Stay at Denji’s for the night. Fuck, fuck, fuck –”

He emerged from his bedroom, now wearing jeans, his favorite Converse, and a leather jacket. He tried to pass you without looking, whispering obscenities under his breath, but then you were tugging on his jacket, lips pressed together.

Aki paused, cheeks red with both embarrassment and anger at himself, but you didn’t let go of his sleeve. He noticed the redness of your face as well, the black of your pupils almost covering your entire eye, and were you … were you aroused?

Swallowing hard, your voice was but a mere whisper when you asked, “How long have you had those?”

He knew what you were referring to. It didn’t take an idiot. Your stares were locked, and despite his shame, he wouldn’t turn away. “A while,” he mumbled.

“How long is ‘a while?’”

“Months, okay?” His eyes narrowed and his voice took on a new tone. “Now, can you let go of my jacket so I can leave and save us both the embarrassment –”

“Months,” you repeated, licking the corners of your lips. His eyes were made of blue fire as he stared down at you, and even with your office attire on, you felt utterly naked beneath his gaze. “I’ve … I’ve been thinking about you for months too.”

Aki took a moment to process your words, and your grip hesitantly released on his sleeve. But he wasn’t – he couldn’t – let you get away so easily. His breath was shaky as he placed both of his hands on the wall behind you, pinning you to it. So many times had you two passed each other in this hallway, so many words left unsaid. And now, he was pressing you against it.

“You’ve been thinking about me … for months,” he thought out loud, leaning in a little and nosing your hair. Your scent was intoxicating. That perfume … he could cum in his pants just from smelling it. “For months, you’ve been bringing guys to the apartment to … to what? Make me jealous?” He chuckled under his breath. It took him so long to put it together. “For months, you’ve been touching yourself right before I leave so I go to work fucking hard.” His nose traveled down to your neck, grazing that spot you told him about, and you shuddered. “You’ve been putting me through the wringer and I didn’t even have a clue.”

“You’re … you’re not so innocent.” You tried to keep yourself together, but it was difficult with him pinning you to the wall and – oh, he was already hard in his pants, pressing into you.  “You’ve been stealing my panties so you can masturbate with them.”

Aki hummed quietly, pressing his lips so delicately to your neck, as if his cock wasn’t completely strained in his jeans. “I supposed I have,” he whispered against your skin, “for months.”

“Since that night on the deck,” you croaked out, hands balling into fists as he licked a stripe up your neck. If he didn’t stop, you’d surely moan. “But I didn’t say anything – didn’t think about saying anything – because … because we’re roommates.”

“We are roommates,” he said, lifting his head from your neck, his lips hovering so close to yours. “And if we’re just stating facts here, I’ve needed to kiss you since that night.”

You didn’t wait for him. Immediately leaning in, your lips pressed onto his in a hungry kiss. His mouth molded to yours, and he tasted exactly like you thought: like black coffee, cigarettes, those raspberry pastries he always kept in the kitchen. His tongue, slipping into your mouth, tangled with yours in a way that you had only dreamed about. Your hands released from their fists, instead reaching up to twist in his t-shirt, bringing him even closer to you. He’d hardly touched you and you were completely, utterly soaked. 

As if hearing your thoughts, his lips broke from yours for just a moment to beg, “I need to touch you.”

“Please,” you whispered back, and his mouth was back on yours.

He dragged one hand down from the wall (his shaky hand, believe it or not), still pressing you against it, and worked on unzipping your trousers. You nuzzled your nose against his as he kissed you deeply, slipping his hand in your pants, past the waistband of your panties and – you were exactly as he dreamed you’d be. Absolutely wet. Just as needy for him as he was for you. “Fuck,” he muttered into the kiss, spreading your soaked folds with two long fingers. 

Your lips tore away from his, a trail of spit following, because you simply had to release the moan you’d been holding in for so long. Despite loving the way your mouth fitted against his, he was glad for it, wanting to see your face when he started rubbing your sensitive clit. And fuck, was it the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Your fists on his t-shirt went loose as your body felt like it was made of liquid, angling into his. Your lips pursed, soft whimpers filtering out as he rubbed you in those tight circles.

“So fucking wet f’me,” he mumbled, grazing his lips over yours. “Dreamed about this for months. Fuck, I’ve gotten hard just thinking about this pussy.”

He finally dipped a single finger inside you, and your hips immediately jerked against his hand. Aki let out a shuddering breath when he felt how much you were squeezing just one finger, pumping it in and out of you slowly. “Please,” you whispered, despite his thoughts, “I can take more. I promise.”

You didn’t need to ask him twice. He shoved two fingers inside you, curling them against that spot that had your hips instantly bucking. “Fuck, Aki,” you whined as he plunged those fingers in and out of you, using his thumb to rub your clit. 

“Yeah?” He breathed. 

“Kiss me.”

Aki moaned from your words alone, kissing you hard while fucking you with his long fingers. He was practically drunk on you: your scent wrapped around him, you tasted like citrus, and the way bucked into his hand … god, he needed to fuck you. So bad. And if you didn’t want that, then he needed to jerk himself off immediately or else he was going to explode in his pants. The last thing he needed was another embarrassing moment tonight.

It only took seconds to have you sighing into the kiss, squeezing his fingers like a vice as you came. His thumb on your clit was relentless, taking you over that lovely peak, as you mewled and cried into his mouth. It was almost religious, the way you moaned, and Aki had never felt closer to God than in this moment.

When the adrenaline subsided, he slowly removed his fingers from you and broke the kiss. You watched him intensely as he brought the fingers covered in your slick to his mouth, tasting you. Your lips fell open slightly, eyes going wide while his own closed, savoring the taste. What the actual fuck, you thought to yourself. How the fuck have we been living under the same roof and it took this long for me to see that?

Without missing a beat, you pushed yourself off the wall, winding your arms around his neck and latching your legs to his waist. He lifted you as if you were made of air, kissing you so that you could taste yourself. Before you could even perceive how much time had passed, you were on his bed, blouse disheveled and trousers undone. Even your hair hadn’t left the updo you put it in every weekday. Your eyes flickered to the right and you giggled to yourself. He had finally shut the door.

His eyes remained on you as he shrugged off his jacket, and then his pants. He was back in the same outfit you saw him in earlier, when your panties had been wrapped around his cock like a birthday present. He hesitated before finally pulling off his shirt, and you saw the scars lining parts of his chest. Definitely not a security guard, you thought to yourself but decided not to ask about it now. You reached up as he stood between your legs, brushing your fingers over the scars, and then dragged them down his abdomen. His frame was thin, but he was more built than you believed, always hiding himself under those oversized button-ups.

He wrapped his hand around your wrist as you touched him so gracefully. “Do you want to …?” His voice was so soft, the question hanging off the edge of his tongue.

And then, you smiled up at him, looking like an angel. “Yes, Aki,” you whispered.

He felt like a kid in a candy store. The only thing – the one person – he’d been dreaming about and looked at him as if he weren’t a machine, or a gun with the trigger pulled, was lying before him and liked him. For months, they’d both said. His dominant hand was shaking as he started unbuttoning your blouse, and when you noticed (though you had observed this the day he moved in), you grabbed his hand and placed it on your cheek. With his left hand and your right, you worked together to undo the buttons until your chest was exposed for him. 

Moonlight streamed through his bedroom, the only light source in a seemingly dark area.  City lights reflected on you as you pulled your hair free from the updo, those pretty strands fanning on his sheets. His sheets. Because you were in his bed. The blinking lights from corporate buildings outside your little apartment created a halo around your head and – fuck, you really were something religious. For so long, Aki thought only hell existed. I mean, all the Devils were here, contracted to them. But seeing you splayed out so heavenly for him on his bed, he knew then that Angels had to exist too. 

He took his time taking your pants off, watching the way you bit your lip when the cold air of his room hit your soaked panties. Your eyes glanced up to his boxers, seeing the indent of his long, thick cock, and your mouth went dry. His fingers hooked on the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging down and throwing them off to the side, hoping you’d forget about them so he could pocket another pair. With you exposed and bare on his bed, he really took a moment to admire you: the way your cheeks flushed, how the halo around your head flickered, the way your arousal seeped out of your pretty pussy and your nipples peaked. He just had to touch you; it would kill him if he didn’t. Leaning down, he began peppering kisses on your neck, your collarbone, before finally latching his lips around one of those sensitive nipples. Your breath stuttered at the sensation, and he used his left hand to palm your other breast, twisting the nipple between two fingers. You writhed under him, and he couldn’t help but grind his clothed cock against you, groaning and swirling his tongue around your nipple in tandem. Locking your legs around his waist, you held him to you so he was forced to keep grinding against you. It felt too good, and he wasn’t even inside you yet.

He tugged on your nipple and released it, breathing heavily as his eyes met yours. “If you don’t let me go, I’m definitely going to cum before I’m even inside you.”

“Poor Aki,” you giggled, letting your legs fall back on the bed. “Would that really be so bad?”

His eyes were burning into yours, serious as a heart attack. “I’ve been fucking my hand to the thought of you for what feels like forever,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss to the valley between your breasts. “I don’t want to ruin this moment.”

Aki moved up so that his lips were hovering over yours again, and he could really see the sparkle of your irises in the moonlight. You reached in between your bodies and gingerly massaged his bulge, feeling how much he’d already soaked his boxers with precum. “You couldn’t ruin anything even if you tried,” you replied, your voice light and airy. “I’m on the pill. I’m ready when you are.”

“Shit,” he groaned at your mention of being on the pill, trembling as you massaged him. This had to be another one of his dreams. Just the thought of being inside you without the barrier of a condom … he was so close to completely exploding. He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve you, after all the hell he’d witnessed and brought forth into this world. But he couldn’t help himself. He needed to have you, roommates be damned.

He stood up, needing to get away from your gentle hand. You sat up a little to help him tug down his boxers, careful of that shaky hand of his, and his cock sprang free, dripping precum on the floor. Aki, ever the gentleman, laid you back down on his bed with ease, holding your stare as he spread your legs wide for him. He breathed, praying to whatever god placed you in front of him that he wouldn’t cum prematurely. He couldn't remember the last time he had sex, but he was so desperate for you that all he cared about was not tainting this moment, this dream. 

Aki grasped his cock, giving it a few hard pumps and grunting, before positioning himself at your entrance. You both seemed to hold your breath as he finally slid in, just an inch at first, and the two of you seemed to release that shaky, nervous breath. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, burying himself further in your tight warmth, bracing his elbows beside your head. 

“Keep going,” you begged. “It’ll fit, Aki. Promise.”

You were going to kill him, he was sure of it. Aki had felt the way you squeezed his fingers, but it was nothing compared to pleasure of being inside you, feeling how tight you really were. So much better than his hand. Once he was fully seated inside you, he opened his eyes just to look into yours. Your lips pursed, legs wrapping around his waist once again, and you slowly nodded for him to continue. His cock twitched.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, sliding out of you before slamming back in. You cried out, carding your fingers in his hair, and he molded his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his own whimpers. You just felt so, so good – so good that he could cry. To think that his bed had once been so cold, so lonely, but now you were occupying the space, trembling underneath him as his cock slipped in and out of you. 

Your moans were like gospel. For so long, Aki had been used to loud noise: to Denji’s complaints, to Power’s shouting, to the Devils’ in his ear. But now, it was just you two on the altar of your apartment, silent except for your heavy breaths mingling and the sound of car horns outside. You were wet and slick like holy water, taking him so nicely despite his size, and god – it was like you were made for him and he was made for you. 

You tugged on his hair, needing him so badly even though he was already yours to begin with. He really would have you any way you wanted. All you had to do was ask.

Aki was already so close to release, but he needed you to cum with him. As he fucked into you harder, deeper, his cock curving against that spot that made your eyes roll back, he reached in between you two and found that swollen bundle of nerves in the apex of your thighs. “Aki,” you whined, tears pricking at your eyes as he rubbed your clit. He could die happily now that he heard your voice like that in his ear, knowing it was him that made it happen.

“Yes?” He said, breathless, placing sloppy kisses on your jaw. You clung to him, melting into him like ice cream on a hot summer’s day. “I’m so close. Are you close, angel?”

You whimpered at the nickname. “Almost.”

“Almost?” He fingers went a little faster. “Let’s get you there.”

As his two fingers rubbed tight, small circles on your clit, he angled his cock inside of you so that he could brush your G-spot with every thrust. You were now clutching onto him with all the strength you had left, entwining your body with his and feeling his muscles flex against your stomach. He was so deep now and you were so close and oh my god, Aki Hayakawa had you like putty in his hands.

And it was like he knew it without you even saying it. Because as your walls started to clench around him, he whispered into your ear. “Cum for me, angel. Please, please, need to cum with you.”

Your body convulsed, going tight around his cock as you came. Tears streamed down your cheeks and you called out his name, spurring him to fuck into you faster, reaching his own peak in the middle of yours. He groaned deep into your neck, hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside of you. You kept your legs around his waist, not wanting to miss a drop, and arched yourself against him, coming down from the high of your intense orgasm. Aki was still rubbing your clit slowly, whispering praises into your skin like, “Did so good me … So pretty … Could listen to you cum for hours.”

You two laid like that for a while, feeling his cock soften inside you, panting heavily against each other. Once he finally pulled out of you, your combined releases dripping down your thighs, you laid beside each other on his bed and stared at the ceiling. The silence was comforting, until he whispered, “Please, tell me that wasn’t all a dream.”

Turning your head, you smiled at him. “Do you feel this?” You pinched his arm.

Aki flinched. “Ow.”

“Definitely not a dream,” you chuckled.

[nariism]

adamantine dreams — h. aki

one bed + "wait, don't pull away... not yet."

synopsis. there was a time before you when aki found it hard to sleep. call it sleep debt or whatever, but he's going to squeeze every ounce of rest he can get from his body now.

wc. ~1.2k

— for @naosaki 🫶 i love you | event masterlist ✉️

He used to have nightmares.

They started when he was young and naive, back when he felt like the world could fit into the palm of his hand and the grief he sheltered could flatten armies of enemies.

Sleep did not come easily to Hayakawa Aki.

He was a dead man walking. A corpse with tar black lungs and nothing left to lose. As much as he willingly sacrificed, and as much as he tried to put on a brave face, death petrified him. He spent most nights tossing and turning, eluded by rest leaving him in worsening condition by the day.

There was nothing in the world he wanted to do more than to close his eyes and have the world be still. To sleep without jolting awake at even the tiniest creaks of the floorboards. To be able to be at peace without the sound of a gunshot seared into his memory.

Aki had given up on such a dream many, many years ago.

Then you came along, declared that you were bunking with him while he blankly stared at his single bed in his single room in his apartment that was eerily quiet considering his horribly rowdy roommates, then promptly crawled under the blanket and fell asleep.

He had three choices that day. One, kick you out and risk being reprimanded by Makima herself, which, honestly, sounded the most appealing at the time. Two, sleep on the hardwood floor and develop back pains that would make him devil food by the end of the day. Or three, his least favourite but most logically sound option: sleep in the bed, pressed up against the wall and putting as much distance between your bodies as possible.

And, well. The rest is history.

He discovered a different type of devil wandering the earth. It had warm skin and a cute smile and fit into his arms as if it were shaped from the same clay of which he emerged.

It had no ill intent and sought not the smell of human fear, but the scent of cigarettes and black coffee.

You were a certain kind of evil he couldn't fight, no matter how much he wanted to try. His time was running thin—sand trickling through an hourglass with no signs of stopping.

Aki was hurtling toward his death at a record pace.

He thought he had made peace with that—with the fact that he would never be able to sleep like a little boy again, safe and sound. He was aware that his life was a race against the contracts he had forged years ago, back when he thought devil hunting was the only salvation in the sick world he lived in.

If he could take them all back, he would.

There was nothing he could do now but close his eyes and pretend the days weren't whirring by. He had heard as a child that time flies with the one you love, and he scoffed at such a notion once upon a time.

He would give it all up. Heart, soul, his own flesh if he could stop time just to spend this moment with you for an eternity.

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of your alarm. Aki has long since awoken, groggy but well-rested.

He was always the first one awake. While his mind has been blissfully quieter recently, his body had an awful tendency to jerk into consciousness anyways. He watches your rousing expression carefully, attempting to freeze time itself in the form of a memory.

Warm sunlight pools against your body, swimming in his navy blue sheets. Skin to skin, smile to smile, you kiss him slow and sure—a gesture he has grown familiar with over the past year since you showed up.

"Morning," you yawn, arm draping over his body and a hand slowly trailing from his chest to his neck then finally settling on his cheek.

"You have morning breath." He tells you bluntly, flustered as always.

You snort softly, feigning offense rather poorly. "As if your breath smells like roses right now?"

"Better than yours," he refutes. His fingers deftly squeeze yours until you release his face. You huff dramatically, snatching the blankets with you as you forcefully roll over in bed.

"Fine then. Guess I'll get on with my day without bothering you with my morning breath."

His hand shoots out to capture your wrist as you shuffle out of your side of the bed. Yanking you back, he smothers you under his weight to prevent you from escaping.

"Don't go. Not yet."

"Aki," you laugh while trying to wriggle away to no avail. "I have to go to work."

"Stay home today," he complains, burying his face into your hair so you can't see how absolutely red he's gotten.

"I can't!" You giggle. You start squirming again so he can release you. He does this time, towering over you with some sort of narrowed expression.

"Just stay a little longer," he murmurs, swooping back down to press his lips to your forehead. "Stay."

It's starting to sound more like a demand than a request, so you surrender. Your arms open wide again and he collapses back onto you with a thump.

"You're crushing me," you wheeze from beneath. He shakes his head.

"Deal with it."

"You're seriously going to go back to sleep like this?!"

"Not my fault you make it so easy to fall asleep."

"Didn't know I bored you to death like that," you tease, purposefully dodging the real meaning behind his words because, well, he's equally talented at flustering you.

There was a time before you when Aki found it hard to sleep, tormented by the visions of his entire childhood vanishing in a fraction of a second. It was those nights that were especially unbearable, never relieving him from his painful existence and forcing him to listen to the explosion of guns in his ears over and over again.

Call it sleep debt or whatever, but he's going to squeeze every ounce of rest he can get from his body now.

"You're heavy," you whine one last time for good measure. He doesn't do anything but smile against your skin, savouring every second of your body under his.

Despite your complaining, your hands tangle into his hair almost instantly and you tug him just a bit closer, heart to heart.

Sleep washes over him. You really must have been a devil in disguise, offering up the most despicable evil of all: love.

He knew his time was short. He knew that love would only make it hurt all the more.

But your fingers are combing through his hair and he can feel the gentle rumble of your voice in your chest as you tell him your plans for the day just as his eyes start to feel heavy.

There's a weakness you expose in him, a gap leftover from his lonely childhood yearning for companionship. You fill in all the missing pieces—complete him in a way that revenge and hatred could not.

So he figures, maybe it would be okay to be selfish and just close his eyes right now. Be loved. Sleep and dream of nothing but a future he could never have with you.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[kuzoowl]

Akiangel in Tokyo ghoul AU WOOO! :D to know more about it GO READ RN HERE THIS AMAZING FIC BY @mistystarshine! genuinely check it out :D

[veebeew]

"i had a dream that you were an angel and i had two years left to live"

(wrote a fic about this art. you can view it here.)

[mitsies]

❊ ikea kitchenettes & everything in between - aki hayakawa . . aki's going to break your new oven before you get a chance to use it.

warnings: very suggestive because let's bffr that's what we all want

men are too proud for their own good, you think. and to your misfortune, your fiancé is no exception.

beep. beep. beep.

the sound of buttons being furiously smashed picks up, to the point where you can hear it from beyond the shiny new kitchen island. it's a new apartment, full of shiny new appliances, which clearly are causing the love of your life a fair amount of strife.

from your position slouched onto the pillows on the floor (a substitute for a couch, before yours comes in) you can see silky black hair, a little bit creased by the hair tie that usually holds it in place, and hands carding through dark locks in frustration. you have to bite your lip to hold back a smile.

"everything good back there, aki?"

at your voice, his full face pops out from above the kitchen island. amber kitchen light shines dimly from bulbs yet to be replaced. he looks disgruntled, to say the least. you can't hide your amused expression when he states, "i think the oven is broken."

"but it's brand new?"

he sighs and places his hands on his hips. "they must've given us a defective one."

you're more than skeptical. he's more than certain. with a sigh, you rise from your seat on the make-shift couch and walk to the opposite side of the kitchen island, leaning over it to see what he was doing. a tray of vegetables sits on the middle rack of an unlit oven, and the screen on the side reads blank.

"it's fine. i'll figure something out; finish your reports," he says, watching as you come over to the oven's side and bend to check it out. you turn to him. "no, don't worry. this won't take long."

it's with great amusement that you press the big, obvious, glowing white 'power' button on the side of the oven's interface which illuminates the inside and turns it on. and it's with even greater amusement that you watch aki's face go so, so sour, as if he's just taken a bite of the biggest lemon set to be roasted on the tray.

"yeah," you muse, standing back up, "i think it's broken too."

you can't help the laughter that escapes your throat at his expression. you allow yourself to lean into his side as his eyes are narrowed and fixed onto the fully functional oven. wordlessly, his arm moves to accommodate you with an arm loosely draped around your waist. a natural reflex, at this point.

"i'm sure you'd have figured it out eventually." aki finally looks at you, breath ghosting your forehead.

"mhm. you knew all along. do you enjoy messing with me? watching me struggle?"

"what— hey!"

it's weird, to think about how a little over a year ago, you'd never even considered being here, in this position. if you told past-you that only six seasons in the future, you and your work crush would be a couple, living in a new apartment, with a new oven, and a kitchen so empty but somehow so, so full of love, you'd never believe it. if someone told you that the aki hayakawa would be comfortable enough to hold you so close, to plant a ginger kiss on your forehead like he's doing now, to joke around with you, to smile with all his teeth around you, you would laugh.

but that was then, and this is now. and this— this is real.

his lips are warm, if a little chapped, as they plant a gentle kiss to your forehead. his hold on your waist tightens, just a little, but enough to make you wish your bed was fully assembled. what you do have, though...

you beam at him. "how long will those vegetables take?"

he glances at the oven. "root vegetables'll take maybe 25 minutes. why?"

your smile gets bigger. "that's enough time for me."

"time for what?"

you don't answer, opting to take his hand and pull him to the empty space outside the kitchen that should be a living room. well, empty save for a stack of papers and a set of very big, very soft pillows.

his face goes red. "no. you have paperwork to do. i have dinner to make."

but his grip on your hand tightens. and you know him well enough to be able to tell that he's hiding a tiny little smile.

"it's our apartment. our rules. and i want you to kiss me."

men are too proud for their own good. and even though aki is no exception, you find that his resolve is easily destroyed— only when it comes to you.

flowers chosen: sunflowers (small and tall) & yarrow . . adoration, haughtiness, and everlasting love

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

[elliesno1gf]

Men with piercings 🤤🤤>>>>

I’m gonna squirt

[blueparadis]

❝ GOOD GIRL ❞ + AKI HAYAKAWA.

+. CWs —» f!reader, m!oral, f→m receiving, cum-play, corruption k!nk; word count — 1kish

+. PRECIS —» Sometimes Aki takes a little advantage as your supervisor.

+. NOTES —» each and every brain cell is soaked in his thoughts which is quite shocking for me since I'm Yoshida stan but oh well we shall see; to read more of my works browse through navigation links.

One and a half months of being under division four. One and a half months yet all he did was to howl orders to all the members in his unit. You didn't anticipate how you would end up working under him given the fact he was once your supervisor.

Aki was anything but professional. He shared his half burnt cigarettes, listened to your stories with rapt attention about how you ended up being from ordinary college girl to a devil hunter. Sometimes he would hit the bar with you and he did all of it in the name of breaking ‘rules are meant to be broken’.

If you were to tell these to anyone in his unit they would probably think you were talking about someone else but fortunately you don't have a habit of rambling if things became haywire. And things did become haywire.

It seems like a common notion to conclude that you wouldn't be under the same division led by your supervising officer. Aki believed that too yet he could not help but bring you home after you nailed your first hunt.

“Open your mouth.” Aki snarls, looking down at you as you sit on his bed, folding your legs, with your knees kissing the bed sheet.

“Why … ?”, your voice drifts as his eyes meticulously scan you from head to torso. Your eyebrows jump deciphering his thoughts. “But I’ve... never...” you stammer, struggling to put it in words let alone do what he demands of you.

“sucked a cock, yea ?. Right” Aki finishes, holding your chin up so he has your eyes at him. He rejoices at the bashful sight of yours, eager to try yet unaware of how to proceed.

You lick your lower lip feeling the warmth smothering your cheeks carefully conveying, . “y... y-es. never... did that.”

Your sheepish whisper, the coyness in your glimmering pupils that is roaming all over the dim apartment room of his refusing to look at him and those perfectly plush lips that declines to say the word makes Aki’s heart bubble with joy.

He wishes to fuck you in all positions known to a man. He wants to fuck you on this very bed you are seated to the point that your supple skin becomes flush, your pussy all sore, your mind betraying you.

But he can wait. He wants to wait, wait and see how long this ivory facade of yours is gonna last.

“come on, you've never . . .” Aki demands, lips curving in delight hoping that you'd say the word, imagining how lewd you'd look. He grasps your chin as you blink and manage to blurt out, “i... i’ve never sucked a... cock... before.”

Aki grins , his cock pulsating inside his pants as he leans closer to your face, crouching so he could look your eager eyes. “you will ... now.”, he rasps finally releasing his cock from his pants, pumping it a few times in front of your astonished face before lining it up to your mouth. You clear your throat staring at his girth.

“i don’t know how...” , Aki’s brow jumps in fascination, “hold and spit on the head.” what on earth did he do to have to go through all these? Not that he complains but he has experienced sloppy blow jobs to mind ravaging ones that made him never go for the inexperienced ones.

But here you’re, his one and a half months subordinate, popular and demanding devil hunter who has not only managed to occupy his bed but also his mind.

“wh-at?” you blink at him, lips slightly brushing against the swollen head of his cock. Aki brings froth his cock closer to your mouth while holding your head in place so as to push the tip to your lips, to open by lightly grazing.

“ lick it, the pre. . . a good girl should.”You open your mouth slightly, feeling your pussy clenching around nothing when his precum spills on your tongue. You squeeze your eyes shut wrapping your mouth around the head.

“fuck,” Aki hisses, spreading his feet on to the floor mat , toes curling to prevent himself from jamming his cock into your mouth.

“Yeah, like that.”, he assures as half of his cock enters your mouth, saliva coating your mouth due to inexperience which Aki finds to be an undeniably alluring sight. A soft moan escapes your lips, eyes widening to glance at him with your brows pinching together as you notice him let out a groan. He only smirks at you encouraging you.

“you’re doing great, baby,” Aki cooes, watching as you struggle to suck him all in. “like that. Mmgh...just like that,” his words roll smoothly, eyes focusing on your stretched lips that are wrapped around his cock. You work your mouth wider, throat bobbing to adjust to his length touching the back of your throat.

“Wait…ugh… stop.” Aki’s voice becomes ragged that makes your heart drop instantly, you're not sure why that is.

“lick it.”, he instructs in one breath without meeting the eye.You glup all your wary before flattening your tongue ready to lick on his silky smooth shaft.

You accumulate a little bit of courage to lick and suck half-way of his throbbing member, occasionally earning more of his low moans. This is why he likes to work with you, a few straight directions and you're quick enough to build your own pace.

He cups your face with both of his palms before snapping his hips forward, making your nose graze the skin above his cock. You gag, tears suddenly pooling at the corner of your eyes yet Aki refuses to stop. He slowly thrusts in and out, his grip getting stronger trying his best not to lose control.

“take it,” he grunts. “All. Of. It”Aki never bothered to have a memory of how many times he had his cock sucked by different girls who has worked with him and who has not worked with him. Sometimes, he doesn't even bother to know the name unless they’re from his line of work.

He rarely sullies his professional relationship. He has no iota of idea of how many times he has shot his cum down someone else’s throat while still face-fucking them. You are no where to be labelled as skilled.

However, he can't deny that this one would imprint on his mind. Aki groans head inclining upwards with his Adam's apple being pronouncedly on display. “holy fuck,” he utters as his fluid fills your mouth, some escaping along the lines of your lips, some spilling on bedsheets. He pulls out his cock jerking a few times before zipping it up inside his pants.

And as he does he looks at you amazed how your cheeks are bulged, a lazy pout forming on your face. “swallow it” he pants rashly and you obey him without a second thought gulping his fluid down. You tore your gaze away immediately licking your lips thinking of what to do now, fidgeting with the loose ends of your unbuttoned shirt.

Aki still finds its amusing how a skilled devil hunter like you ended up being his subordinate. He thinks you're quite skilled to be a solo operator or perhaps he has grown fond of your pretty face.

“Good girl,” Aki chimes with a smile before kissing your puffy lips pushing you down to the soft mattress. There is a reflexive resistance as he desperately sucks your lips. You hum before caving in to his kiss as he proceeded to your neckline.

“God, you're so cute.”, and in that moment you regretted it, all of these, letting your heart soak in desires and affection. Perhaps,he did too when you desperately clawed his back as you deepened the kiss.

—

@akicore , @tokyometronetwork

[cyancherub]

elements | hayakawa aki

this is part two of the series menthol.

PAIRING.  aki x bff fem!reader

PLAYLIST. nightdrive + sesh

SERIES SYNOPSIS. after a string of casual dating mishaps leaves you unsatisfied, you find that the grass is greener in the front seat of your best friend’s car.

PART TWO LENGTH. 11.7k | coauthor @akishroom

PART TWO SYNOPSIS. during a midnight smoke beside the lake, with the heavy rains of a summertime thunderstorm pelting the windows of aki's car, he ruminates over the past, and you grasp at the future.

PART TWO WARNINGS. fem reader, nsfw (18+, minors do not interact): fantasizing; vaping, weed (smoking, hotboxing, aki rolls your joints for you bc he's sexy like that), violence (not toward the reader): fighter!aki (he beats ppl up for you HEHE don't forget he kicks ass in canon); aki is slutty and has a tongue piercing oops; aki calls reader 'princess' / 'spoiled brat'

NOTES ON DYNAMIC. reader has a personality and a backstory (single mom, no dad present), lots of history and childhood flashbacks between aki and the reader; somewhat dark/taboo dynamics because the reader views aki as an older brother figure before they get together (and he has a lot of internal conflict about this); aki and the reader are mutually obsessed; aki is overprotective and possessive, and also the slightest bit mean because he's frustrated and in love with u LOL

A/N. sorry i know i said there would be heavy smut in this but i had to give that its own part LMAO so the main filth will be in pt. 3 <3 thank you for all the lovely reblogs on pt. 1!!!! <33

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

It feels like it’s been forever since he was here with you last.

The last time was before things got too hectic for the two of you to make the long drive out. But here you both are, looking out through the windshield again, watching the moonlight shine on the placid water of the lake. Not a single thing about this place has changed; it’s just the same as it always was. It’s so static, so unchanging in time, that you could both be trapped in a memory, reliving some summer night from your past without even knowing it.

Windows down, warmth thick in the air. The cool breeze meanders over the water, then stirs the leaves in the trees, before slipping into the car and making it all temperate.

He’s missed this place. It was always safe here—a haven to bring you to when you needed to get away. Somewhere to heal, at least for a little while. Usually it was just for a few hours, but sometimes, if you really needed it, the two of you would stay until dawn. He remembers how you’d watch the sun rise through heavy eyes. Those mornings that followed the nights when you were so tired you could barely keep your eyes open, but you weren’t ready to go home yet.

He remembers waking up to a pale sky through a foggy windshield, his eyes shifting to you before anything else. Your sleeping form in his passenger seat: face peaceful, breaths steady, his flannel still wrapped around you.

This was an escape. A shared place; a secret belonging to you and him and no one else in the world, stumbled upon one night by chance, forever ago. At least, high school feels like forever ago. His memory of that night in particular is hazy with the dreamlike tinge of time and fondness.

It can’t have been long after he’d gotten his license and fixed up his first car. You’d called him that night near tears, with your voice wavering over the phone. That was rare; you never were the type to cry easily.

I wish I could get out for a bit, you said.

Less than ten minutes later he was watching you slip out of your bedroom window, sneaking past the little bird bath to duck through the hedges bordering your yard. Then you were jogging to his car, a flurry of rushed movements as you pulled the passenger door open and hopped into the seat, and then the little space was full of your presence (your voice, your laugh, your smile), as you said giddily, Hurry, hurry, before my mom wakes up. 

Where do you want to go? 

Somewhere far.

So that’s where he took you. Far away: up twists and turns and through miles of forest, and somehow you ended up here.

And then, after that night, you ended up here over and over again. Whenever you needed to get away, he’d take you on the long, winding drive that ended at the lake, and he’d spend as many hours here as it took for you to feel better.

Aki thinks that he could still be that kid he once was, because those times were just like this. Just the two of you, and the gentle waters of the lake lapping at the shore, and all your memories hanging in the air, as heavy as the humidity.

There’s a sudden gust of wind over the lake. The summer breeze drifts through the car windows, carrying the scent of your perfume over to him. 

“We used to come out here a lot,” you say softly. 

Aki looks at you.

He sees the way the moonlight falls softly through the open windows and illuminates your face: all the little details he knows by heart suddenly cast in a new light. 

He doesn’t know how the light could be new if it comes from the same moon he’s seen you under countless times, but he does know that—for some unfamiliar, convoluted, and incomprehensible reason—if he lets himself look at you for too long, the promise he made to himself earlier tonight (to put everything back to normal) will be impossible to keep.

So he looks away, fixing his eyes on the water.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “All the time.” 

“I was always going through some shit,” you laugh. “And you were always bringing me here when I needed it.”

“Things were hard back then. But they turned out alright, didn’t they?” 

You’re quiet for a second, and then: “Because of you. You took care of me even then.”

He thinks he hears a strange quality to your voice, and when he glances over at you, your usual smile is absent, replaced by a look he can’t quite put a finger on.

“I’ll always take care of you,” he says—simply, immediately, sincerely.

He sees your eyes widen, watches your mouth open, hears you murmur, “Aki—”

The rain starts.

A heavy rain, a hot summer rain. Heavy droplets hit the windshield, then roll downward; the glass begins to fog, the humidity suddenly thickening until it stifles. Overhead, there’s a sudden roll of thunder. The fickle weather of summer changes quickly; in a matter of seconds, the roaring rain of a summer storm fills the air, and high winds blow droplets in through the car windows.

“Wow,” you laugh, your voice drowned out by another boom of thunder as you shake water off your arm. 

Aki rolls up the windows, and then the sounds of the storm (rain pelting, thunder cracking, trees rustling) are muffled. He turns the AC on high and watches the fog on the windshield spread.

He’s opening his mouth to ask What were you saying? when your phone chimes.

Aki has the sudden urge to ask, Is it him? 

But it’s not his business. So he lays his head back on the headrest and gets comfortable as you check your phone, occupying himself with nicotine instead. Hit after hit off the vape, and the whole time Aki’s wondering who.

He doesn’t ask. But as it turns out, he doesn’t have to.

“Six hours late,” you’re saying, raising your voice so he can hear you over the storm, “but hey, at least he texted me an apology for bailing on me.”

“He’s a real stand up guy, isn’t he?”

His words come out muffled, the vape caught between his lips. They come out harsh, bristling with irritation, and he feels a pang of guilt. He doesn’t mean to take his frustration out on you. It’s not your fault that this guy’s an asshole. And it’s not your fault that the guy before him was also an asshole. And the guy before him… 

It’s just that he’s losing his patience watching it happen in real time.

What’d he say? he wants to ask. This asshole cancels on you at the last minute, doesn’t even give you a reason, and then he texts you at midnight? What’s his excuse for wasting your time? 

It better be good, he thinks.

“He said he got caught up at work.” 

Not good enough.

“He got caught up for six hours?” Aki can’t help but laugh out loud, and before he can stop himself, he’s saying, “Bullshit.”

You raise your eyebrows, eyes wide with surprise, and then his stomach drops.

In all the years that he’s known you, he’s never snapped at you like that. He feels so out of control—what the hell’s wrong with him? He tastes guilt on his tongue, acrid; but even that’s not enough to overwhelm the bitterness that’s watching someone take advantage of you.

“Maybe he got off work earlier but was busy with something after,” you shrug. “When’d you get so cynical, anyway?”

“A little cynicism goes a long way. Not everyone has your best interests at heart.” 

But Aki doesn’t even know if he means what he’s saying; he feels jumbled; he should apologize, but you’re already opening your mouth to say something— 

Your phone chimes again.

You both look down at your phone screen at the same time. And he knows it’s wrong to look, but your screen is bright, angled up, and he can see your messages coming in perfectly.

[ 12:12 am ]  Maybe we can reschedule for some other time if you want.

The lack of enthusiasm in that message gets under his skin. Canceling on you, then putting the imperative on you to reschedule—classy, he thinks. 

Another chime, a new message.

[ 12:13 am ]  What are you doing now? Are you in bed already?

Aki grits his teeth, thinking, I could fucking kill this guy. 

“You’re not gonna believe this,” you laugh.

Aki pries his eyes away from the screen just in time to watch you look up from it. He’s lucky you didn’t catch him looking.

“Believe what?”

“He’s asking what I’m doing now. Just like that.” 

 “I believe it,” he says drily.

“He just asked me if I was in bed,” you muse. “How much do you want to bet he’s gonna angle for nudes after all of that?”

While you laugh, Aki’s clenching his jaw, fighting a surge of irritation and the passing urge to snatch your phone up and figure out this guy’s address so he can kick his ass. It’s a nice fantasy, anyway: having you tell the guy you’ll come over, only for Aki to be the one ringing the doorbell. Rolling his sleeves up, so he doesn’t get them dirty, because he doesn’t want to have to clean up after this guy any more than he already has. He’d like to watch the door opening, the instantaneous change on that stranger’s face—the drop from conceit to confusion—putting a crooked smile on his own.

Hey, pal. What’s the matter? Were you expecting someone else?—before dragging him out by the collar.

He’d just rough him up a little, nothing major; but maybe he’d let one heavy hit go, let his right fist connect with the guy’s jaw, the ring on his middle finger puncturing the flesh of some asshole who never deserved you to begin with. Aki just needs to land one hit hard enough to bruise up his knuckles. The kind that leaves a lingering sting even after he shakes his hand out. That’s all he’s itching for.

He puffs on the vape, letting his thoughts run wild. The guy’s lucky, he thinks. Lucky you made Aki quit smoking, because if he were to find out you were treated any worse than what he’s already seen, he’d turn him into an ashtray for his smokes.

That’s enough.

He reels himself in. It’s a nice daydream, but that’s all it is. Acting on those impulses is out of the question, because he knows it’s not what you want. So he can’t offer it to you, and he can’t do it of his own accord. But if you so much as said the word…

You sigh wearily, still eyeing out your texts. “I swear he must think I’m an idiot.”

“Don’t text him back.”

It comes out too rough. He knows he’s overstepping; it’s not his place to dictate what you do, even if it is his place to protect you. 

“You’re giving me orders now?” you snort, eyebrows raised. “What are you, my dad?” 

You’re right. Aki closes his eyes, kneading at the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry.”

He knows he’s being too intense, coming off too strong. He doesn’t know why he’s so worked up tonight, but it feels like there’s a switch on that he can’t turn off, no matter how hard he tries.

“What’s up, Aki? Is something bothering you?” 

He inhales deeply. Menthol in his mouth, in his lungs; you in his head, in his chest; nicotine in his veins, but not nearly enough. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “It’s just…”

He rolls his head on the headrest to meet your eyes. In the dim moonlight that still filters in through the clouded windows, the raindrops traveling down the glass cast moving shadows on the face he knows better than any other. Your expression is so expectant it’s almost needy, and he feels his throat tighten, feels the imperative to do anything—anything in the world, anything at all—to give you whatever you need. To provide all of the things you deserve, to take care of you and protect you and keep you—

That’s enough. 

He can’t keep you. You’re not his.

The menthol on his tongue tastes almost bitter at the thought. Stings. Another puff, and then the vapor from his mouth is clouding the space between you; he loses sight of you for a second, and all the while he’s thinking—losing you isn’t something he’d ever risk.

So Aki chooses his words carefully. Deliberately.

“If you’re not getting what you deserve,” he says, “if he’s not enough,” —but how could anyone be enough for you?— “then drop him.” 

And then, because he’s worried it’s too harsh, that he’s overstepping again: “It’s your choice. I just don’t like to see you hurt. That’s all.”

Your face goes soft, eyes melting: fondness, maybe a little more than that—

No, he thinks. He’s imagining it; after all these years, why would there ever be anything more? 

“I’m not gonna text him back,” you say. “You’re right. He’s an asshole.” 

He can’t help but feel relieved. And you’re smiling again, joking: “Since no one is worthy of your blessing, it looks like I’ll just die old and all alone.” 

He laughs a little, thinking, When have I ever left you all alone?

“You’ll find someone who treats you right,” he says. “Promise.”

There’s a line around the block. We just have to weed out the deadbeats.

You adjust in the seat to face him, tilting your head to rest your ear against the headrest. The storm’s still going outside the car. Thunder cracks; thick, rain-bloated clouds obscure the moon above, leaving the two of you in darkness. But there’s a flash of lightning far off, bright enough to illuminate your face for a second. 

He’s struck by that sudden brightness; it casts you in bright blue, gives you a sudden intensity, but he can’t tell if it’s from the light or the look on your face that he sees before it goes dark again.

But then the clouds overhead are clearing, allowing the moonlight to filter back into the car, and your face is nostalgic as you murmur: “Back when we were kids…”

Back when you were kids…

It used to storm just like this, back when you were kids. He’d actually moved to town—to the foster home at the end of your street—at the start of the stormy season, that year his family died. But that year there’d been a dry spell, and for the few weeks that he’d spent getting acquainted with the daily walk from the foster home to the elementary school, there was only sun. 

He met you on a sunny day, walking to school as he usually did—alone, with a quick stride, and his right earphone in. By that time he’d settled into the foster home (as much as he could, at least), and the walk to school had grown familiar. 

Aki remembers, very clearly, hearing your footsteps for the first time.

Small footsteps behind him quickening to a jog, accompanied by a shout: Wait up!

A girl’s voice. And then the footsteps were at his side, and there was a head beside his left shoulder. There was a pipsqueak beside him.

That pipsqueak said, quickly and excitably, Are you new? 

You didn’t even give him time to answer the first question before you fired off several more: Do you always walk to school? I walk every day, but I’ve never seen you. What time do you usually leave? What street do you live on? What’s your name? I’m—

You were a disruption to his usual routine. A little twerp who talked too fast. He put his left earphone in to block out the chatter and picked up his pace, hoping to leave you behind. But you picked up yours too, practically maintaining a jog to match his speed. When he glanced down at you, your mouth was moving, but he couldn’t hear you over his music. 

He preferred to keep it that way, but you had the audacity to pluck his left earphone out and stick it into your right ear.

Hey—! he snapped.

You were already chattering again. Wow. What the heck are you listening to? It sounds so depressing. Who is it? Is this your favorite band? My favorites are—

You went on, and on, and on. Even when he crankily told you how terrible your taste in music was, you just laughed and kept pace with him. Eventually, he felt guilty about making you walk so fast, because you started to sound short of breath as you prattled on. Not that that deterred you from talking, but he slowed down a little nonetheless. 

By the time you both arrived at school—the first bell ringing just as you passed through the front gate—you’d managed to wrangle out of him both his favorite band and what time he usually left in the mornings. 

For whatever reason, he hadn’t had the heart to lie to you.

He couldn’t shake you after that first walk. Every morning afterward, you’d leave your own house early enough to walk with him, speeding down your driveway just as soon as you caught sight of him coming down the street. You’d pester him the entire walk to school, and then you’d pester him into the cafeteria, and through the breakfast line, and at the table—prodding at the food on his tray after you finished yours.

You were so annoying.

But then there was the day you didn’t show. The two of you must have been walking to school together for a month by then, at least, and your absence was palpable. No little nuisance came running down the driveway to meet him as he passed your house, but it wasn’t relief he felt as a result. It was the nagging feeling that, suddenly, something was missing, much like the intuition when you know you’ve forgotten something at home. Something you’re supposed to bring. An essential.

Aki figured you were running late. So he waited there in front of your house, frowning, with his hands shoved in his pockets. That was the first time he noticed the bench out front, and the leaning tree overhanging it, and the rays of sunlight cascading through the leaves to leave speckles of light on the wooden slats of the bench. Beyond that, centered in your family’s carefully-tended yard, was a stone bird bath full of calm water glinting in the morning light. 

Aki waited there long enough that he started to memorize every flower in the little garden bordering the side of your house, wondering, absently, which kind was your favorite. But your front door still didn’t budge.

That was the first morning he spent alone since he’d met you. The whole way to school, he was wondering where you were, and if you were alright. 

Arriving at school—late, several minutes after the first bell had already rung—he realized that he was lonely. Not in the way he’d become accustomed to after the death of his family (a strangely peaceful loneliness in the face of an irrevocable absence), but in a hollow way. Because the walk had been far too quiet. Because, if he was honest, he had missed you and your incessant, insufferable chattering.

In its absence, his thoughts had returned to the state they’d been in before he met you. Back to the hollow, lonely dark, and to his family. Then a realization hit him: he hadn’t thought of his family in the mornings for a long time, because he’d been too occupied listening to you. And without you, his only reprieve from his own thoughts, he felt lonelier than ever.

He waited for you again the next day. It was pouring that day—heavy rains that’d lasted through the night prior, tapping a rhythm onto the roof of the foster home. He was on the top floor, closest to the sky. Summer storms, the kid the next room over had said. We get them a lot here. Looks like the dry spell is over. Better bring an umbrella tomorrow—it’ll rain all night and all day. 

When Aki woke up the next morning, the sky was still bloated and gray.

He was waiting by your gate with an umbrella when you came through your front door at the usual time—bright as the sun would have been, if it weren’t obscured by the dark clouds. Maybe even brighter, you were so glad to see him there.

Hey! You waited! With one hand over your head to shield yourself from the rain, you plodded your way down the driveway and then through a puddle to him. It’s so hard to catch up with you usually. You’ve got long legs. (You paused for a moment, surprised when he held the umbrella out to make space for you, then stepped under it.) You’re basically a giraffe.

Aki snorted. Well you’re basically a shrimp. A stupid shrimp. What happened to you yesterday, anyway?

At least I’m a stupid shrimp with clean teeth, you said with a big smile, hooking a finger into either side of your mouth to pull it open into an exaggerated grin. Dentist’s appointment. My mom let me skip the whole day. Which is so great, because I hate last period—

He didn’t even have the chance to respond before you launched into a monologue about your classes. You told him which you loved, which you hated; you chattered on and on as you followed him down the sidewalk, huddled close to him under the umbrella. And he was glad that you were there, and that he could listen to everything you had to say. 

You missed me, didn’t you? you blurted suddenly, derailing your own train of thought. That’s why you waited. 

What? he scoffed, scowling down at you. No way. If there’s anything I miss, it’s peace and quiet.

You studied him with a look on your face that was halfway between smug and shrewd. I bet you waited for me yesterday, too. Didn’t you?

No.

Liar, liar. Your cheeks are bright pink. Look at you!

You were beaming up at him then, and he found himself so overwhelmed by the adoration in your eyes that he had to look down at the sidewalk, sullenly kicking through a puddle as he listened to you snicker. The rain was running down the street; it was collecting in the grass, in the dips of the sidewalk. Your shoes were near-saturated, but you kept splashing through puddles, and he watched your shoelaces loosen with each pace until they came undone and dragged through the rainwater. But you didn’t seem to notice or care.

Aki stopped in his tracks; you stopped too, just a moment later, asking, What is it?

He sighed, turning to face you, and held the handle of the umbrella out to you. Hold this for a second, twerp.

You stood there, obediently holding the umbrella as he knelt in front of you to take the loose, rain-sodden shoelaces in his hands; and then he knotted them, looped them, pulled them tight. He was reminded of Taiyo, then, and how he used to do the same for him.

Thank you, Aki.

The sweetness of your tone made his cheeks burn. 

It’s just because I know you’d trip and fall in a puddle if you keep walking around like that, he muttered. And then I’d have to go around with some dweeb covered in mud. You’re already embarrassing enough as it is.

You smiled. You know something? I’m really glad you’re my friend. 

Despite his best efforts to curtail it, he could still hear the fondness in your voice. And despite his best efforts to deny it, he felt the same way.

Me, too, he said under his breath as he double-knotted your shoelaces, so quietly that the words were drowned out by the sound of the rain. 

Droplets continued to fall all around the two of you, hitting grass and concrete and the rainwater already collecting in the low points of the sidewalk…

…More rain comes down, pelting the windshield harder. Aki exhales menthol, lost in the past, until another flash of lightning jolts him back to the present.

Another roll of thunder: the storm intensifies.

These summer storms are identical to the ones we got back then, Aki thinks. This town doesn’t change. And you…

Looking over at you, Aki knows he could easily fool himself into thinking you’re nothing like that little girl he grew up with. You’ve changed so much, grown so much, that he could convince himself you’re a completely different person. If only it weren’t for that expression on your face, the same look you’ve always given him: familiar, trusting. Adoring. 

You’re exactly like you were back then.

That’s why he can’t give in to those thoughts he has about you. That’s why he has to stop thinking about you in ways that he shouldn’t. The fantasies from earlier are competing with years of history, and they’re losing; as much as he’d like to separate the you now from the you he grew up with so that he can truly feel all of the things you make him feel, he can’t. Because the you he grew up with is a person he came to love like the family he’d lost. And he still loves you in that way, which means he can’t love you in any other. It wouldn’t be right.

“...Back then,” you smile, “when we were kids…”

Your fond reminiscing snaps him out of his reverie, pulling him off that long train of thought and conflict destined to end up somewhere disastrous. 

You smile. “...I used to think that the two of us should just make one of those pacts. If neither of us found someone we liked, we’d just have to marry each other.”

Just the whims of a little kid. Aki can’t help but laugh softly. “That’s cute.” 

“Funny, right? I even remember telling my mom about it. You know she loved you.”

The thought of you saying that to your mom all those years ago makes him smile. He can picture you declaring it, a little kid with a personality twice her size and a mom who would nod along obligingly.

Your mom really did like him from the moment he walked in. Not that he really walked in; he was dragged in, more like, your vice grip of a hand pulling him through your front door as you blathered enthusiastically about all the DVDs upstairs that he absolutely had to see.

But before that, he managed to extricate his hand from yours in order to introduce himself to your mom. She was standing behind the kitchen counter, drying dishes with a strawberry-printed towel.

Can I help you with those? he asked.

Well, she smiled, aren’t you a nice young man? Give me a hand, then.

The plates went in the cabinet next to the fridge, the silverware in the drawer near the oven. When the dishes were done, your mom reached down to ruffle his hair, sending a grin your way as she joked: Maybe my daughter can learn some manners from you. 

He could tell then that the two of you had already decided he was part of the family. And from then on he practically was. He was there all the time, because you invited him all the time, skipping up to the end of the street to let yourself in through the front door of the foster home (always left unlocked during the day for the multitudes of kids coming and going); you’d jog up the stairs, calling his name before bursting into his room to declare, We’re expecting you for dinner. You’re coming over, right?

Right, he’d say, tossing his book bag over his shoulders.

He always preferred your house. The foster home was too crowded, anyway. And there was something unnerving about the fact that all of the kids there were just like him: kids who had lost everything, kids who were all alone in the world. Even there in the home, where so many of them were together—where they were supposed to have each other—it felt lonely, impersonal; to him, it never really felt like family.

You and yours were different. Your house felt welcoming, full of the warmth of home—or at least an echo of the warmth he once knew. More often than not he’d go straight there with you after school. He remembers doing homework with you, your mom popping her head into the room to say Study hard!

You liked English, but sometimes you’d get stuck on math. Whenever that happened, you’d ask him for help; he was a grade ahead of you, so of course he was the authority on anything and everything you couldn’t figure out. He’d groan, but he’d help you nonetheless—because once you finished all of your homework, the two of you could go exploring or play games and watch movies until your mom called the two of you down for dinner.

He’d do the dishes after every dinner, and some nights he’d help your mom cook. She always liked having him around, because whenever he’d offer to help, you would too. The kitchen would be crowded, the three of you working together: your mom stirring a steaming pot, Aki chopping whatever vegetables she’d instructed him to, and you fumbling with a can opener that was too big for your hands. He’d usually end up helping you with your task after finishing his own.

Aki remembers every recipe he picked up from your mom. Several of them he still makes for the two of you on the nights you’re hanging out at his place—and he’ll sit with you at the dining table, reminiscing about your shared childhood, tasting every memory steeped in the flavors of his second home.

But he thinks his favorite memories must be of the summers.

It wasn’t just the school year he’d spend with you. After every school year, you’d invite him along for your annual vacation in the little beach town a half-day’s drive away. His foster parents always had so much on their hands that he barely ever had to ask for permission; they were more than fine with it, seemed almost relieved to have one less kid to worry about for the week he’d be gone.

The drive up to the shore was long and winding. He’d fall in and out of sleep every time, in the backseat with his head resting against the window and yours slumping onto his shoulder. You’d always drift off before him, snoring softly.

He’d smell the saltwater even before fully waking, some hazy dream about the ocean flitting through his mind for a split second before his bleary eyes would open to the real thing. The crashing of the waves was loud, audible even from inside your little vacation bungalow. You’d all drop your things off there first, and then—with the sun beaming down, the sand hot under his feet, and the ocean breeze buffeting against his skin—the three of you would make your way down the dunes, weighed down by beach chairs and umbrellas and coolers. You’d always take off ahead of them on the first day there, running down the shore and dropping your things haphazardly on the sand because you were so excited to touch the water.

The first year there, he made to follow you immediately after you took off. But your mom placed her hand on his shoulder, pulling him aside for a moment.

Watch the waves, Aki. Are you paying attention?

Her tone was serious. He nodded, looking forward, with his eyes on the ocean; but he wasn’t watching the waves so much as he was watching you among them—making sure, as you splashed through the water, that you were safe.

Good, he remembers her saying. Make sure you always look out for my little girl.

He’d already been doing that on instinct, but he took your mom’s words to heart. They’ve stuck with him; they’re something he still abides by now, over a decade later. The two of you are all grown up, but he still spends his summers with you—still lets you sleep on his shoulder when you’re tired, still makes sure you’re safe every time you step foot in the ocean. Every time you step foot anywhere, he’s looking out for you.

I used to think that the two of us should just make one of those pacts. If neither of us found someone we liked, we’d just have to marry each other.

In this little situation your childhood self thought up, he’d look out for you, too. If you couldn’t find someone else (and even if you could find someone else, because of course you could, he thinks, in passing) he’d take care of you. Just like he told your mom he would. Just like he always has.

But why would he dwell on a situation like that? He accepts that childhood dream of yours for what it is: a cute, far-fetched fantasy born from trust between kids who didn’t understand the implications of marriage. Kids who didn’t have to differentiate between one type of love and another, because the only love that existed for them was pure. Things were simpler then; these days, they’re different.

These days, he has to make sure he’s only looking out for you. Not looking at you. He’s toeing the line between one type of love—that pure childhood love that’s only strengthened through the years—and another. If he crosses that line, there’s no going back. That other kind of love, if it could be called that, is desirous, transformative. He’d cease to be your protector. Maybe wanting you in that way—the same way as all those other guys—would turn him into something just like them: a threat you need protection from. A shark circling that little girl wading in shallow ocean water all those years ago.

His obligation to you now is no different than it was to you then, back when you were a little girl. To protect you, he can’t want you. It’s out of the question.

“The things you used to think up. Little us, and a little wedding,” he laughs softly. His head’s still muddled with conflict; he’s hoping you don’t notice the strain in his voice, that he sounds normal.

“With little rings and everything,” you grin.

“And what’d your mom have to say about it when you told her?” With each passing second he feels more out of sorts, but he’s playing along as best he can.

“You’re her favorite. She was one hundred percent on board. Said you’d cook for me every night and always take care of me.”

Your mom always made it a point to entertain your whimsy. That’s all it was. 

As lightly as he can, Aki jokes: “Doesn’t sound so bad, does it?” 

“Definitely not. Really, we could keep everything the exact same, you and me.”

“Do you think so?” he murmurs.

This is just a silly little childhood fantasy, that’s all, he reminds himself, watching you root around in your bag for something. This conversation doesn’t mean a single thing.

“I know so,” you say. “In fact, you’d be eighty years old and still rolling my joints for me.”

Triumphantly, you come out of your bag with the grinder and rolling papers clutched in one hand. He’s relieved when you hold them out to him, expectant: it’s something to do, a shift in the conversation—a distraction from this topic. 

He relaxes a little, taking the weed and papers from you before responding absently, “Would I?”

“You would. You’d treat me like a princess.”

Without a second thought, he’s popping up the console to pull out the rolling tray.

“Well. You are a princess, aren’t you?” But the words are teasing: light and fond. “A spoiled brat, too.” 

“Can you blame me? You’re the one who’s always spoiling me.” 

Maybe you’re right. Because other than the cigarettes, Aki never really cared to smoke like you do; that’s your thing, not his. But still he keeps the tray in his car to roll your joints on—and that old, empty cigarette box in the console is only still around because he tears pieces from it to make filters for them. Besides, how could he not spoil you? You look up at him like that—pleading eyes under heavy lashes, a slight smile on your mouth, your head tilted to the side (he can see your pulse, the quick fluttering under the skin of your throat)—and he’s weak; he’s always been a sucker for it. He’d do anything you asked.

That one look is enough to push the conflict out of his mind. He forgets, for now, about how wrong it is to want you—because he wants you, he does, how can he keep denying that?—and he forgets how out of sorts he is. For now, he allows himself to forget that it’s out of the question to want you, because that question is at the very back of his mind, and the single thing at the forefront is you.

Tray resting on the console, his hands twisting the bud in the grinder, he half-scolds, half-teases: “So you get on my case for the smokes, but you still make me roll your joints for you? That’s how this works?” 

“That was a pack of cigarettes a day,” you pout. “This is just every once in a while. To blow off steam.”

“Right. And what if I refuse? I could tell you that you aren’t allowed.”

But even as he teases you, he’s untwisting the grinder and glancing down at the weed to make sure the texture is right to roll. The heavy scent of it has already saturated the air in the car when he looks back up to see you pulling out the full stops. Do you know what you’re doing, laying it on thick like that? Batting your lashes, knitting your fingers dramatically under your chin—do you really know what it does to him when you pout like the pretty, spoiled little brat that you are—

“Please, Aki? Don’t be mean. I need it so much….”

You don’t need to lean forward over the console to him like that, because then he can smell your perfume again; then he can see your dress falling open again; then he has to force himself not to look; he has to force himself to be normal, but he has no idea what normal is anymore—

“...I’m so stressed from everything, and you’re just so good at it…”

You don’t need to look at him like that; you don’t need to tell him how stressed you are; in fact, you really shouldn’t—because then he can’t help but think, just for a second, about the thousand different ways he could help you destress, about all the things he could do to make you feel so much better, about all the positions he could put you in; he can’t help but think of himself on top of you, of you face down in the backseat, his hand slipping under your stomach, fingers pressing into your skin—feeling himself inside, asking, Does it feel good when I get that deep? Can you take it all?

“...You do it better than anyone.”

You punctuate your words with a smile. Your eyes are wide, pleading—but you never had to beg. He was under your thumb from the very beginning.

God, Aki thinks, do you have any idea what you’re doing?

And with that question, suddenly another surfaces.

What am I doing?

You aren’t doing anything. It’s his imagination that’s at fault.

That realization is enough to bring the weight of his inner conflict crashing down, heavy enough to crush the desire blooming in him. Just in time, he remembers all the things he let himself forget for a little while: that you’re his best friend, practically family; that these things he’s thinking of are unsolicited, unreciprocated; that this is more than just wrong—you’d be disgusted at the things going on in his head. And he is, too.

His head clears, the you-induced delirium subsiding as he tears his eyes away from yours. 

“Alright,” he laughs, strained, then clears his throat. “Alright. Fine.”

/ / / / /

Aki always gives you whatever you want. 

You definitely didn’t have to beg. Despite all the teasing, you know he’ll roll you all the joints you want. He’d probably rob a bank for you if you asked him nicely. But not before emptying all the money from his account into yours and asking, Do you need some more? 

That’s the thing about him. He’s not what he is on the surface.

Every guy you’ve ever gone out with hated him with a passion. It was sad, but you couldn’t call it surprising; you’d be hard-pressed to find a guy who’d cozy up to the idea of your best friend being another guy. And Aki was never just another guy; to all of them, he was a threat. Good-looking, tall, and so protective that anyone who didn’t understand the nature of your relationship could easily mistake it for jealousy. He’d look down his nose at anyone who made advances at you.

It was always a little funny to introduce Aki and the guy you were currently seeing. This is my good friend, Aki, you’d say to the boyfriend of the month, watching Aki begrudgingly hold a hand out to offer a terse shake. Nice to meet you, he’d say through his teeth, voice clipped—playing nice for you. But not too nice. The little things never slipped past you; he’d squeeze their hands hard, the cigarette between his lips jostling as his mouth turned up in a slight, artificial smile that didn’t reach his eyes. They remained critical and scrutinizing. A look in his eye that said, I don’t fucking like you. If you had grown up with a dad, that’s probably what he’d have looked like meeting the boy who wanted to take you to prom. 

But Aki’s the only man in your life. That’s how it’s always been. 

You know he made most of the guys you went out with feel small. His hands were always bigger; you’d notice that, watching the handshake while shifting your weight from foot to foot. He was always taller—tall enough to look down at most of them, but he’d still size them up until they went pale.

Overkill. The interactions were always a little funny at first, but inevitably, Aki would become a problem in every one of your relationships. A point of contention. Your boyfriends didn’t like the fact that the two of you were so close. You’d try to explain it to them—he’s like a brother to me, I’ve known him for over a decade—but they’d respond with skepticism.

You talk about him too much. You’re with him all the time. Didn’t you even mention that you would always crash at his fucking place before we met? Are you sure there’s nothing going on between the two of you?

You guess their instincts were right after all. They managed to see it years before you even felt it. Maybe that’s why no amount of convincing was ever enough for them. They didn’t like your history with him. They didn’t like him, and you guess you couldn’t really blame them for that; he was closed off, cold—suspicious and wary. And so protective of you. Any time any semblance of trouble came up in any one of your relationships, Aki would ask—Do you want me to talk to him?

You never wanted him to talk to them. Not in the way he was thinking, anyway. It’d end up just the same as the conversations he’d have with any guy who made you uncomfortable. It’d end up like the night some creep had harassed you at the bar when Aki had stepped away for a second: with Aki wiping blood from a split lip, and the other guy in much worse shape—doubled over from a knee to the stomach, one eye swelling shut, blood pouring from his nose to splatter onto the pavement. And Aki turning to you, asking, Are you okay?

Are you?

That’s the kind of problem solving Aki learned to do growing up in a foster home full of kids that pushed him around, and growing up in a small town that alienated him because of what happened to his family. That’s the kind of fighting Aki learned to do well enough to make money off of, after one of his foster siblings introduced him to the lucrative trade of throwing punches for the scumbags who bet on him at Foxclub.

You hate that place, still. The smell of sweat and liquor, it never becomes familiar; neither does the sight of him sitting on the locker room benches, counting his money—with his bare chest covered in sweat, his nose bloody, his knuckles purple with bruises, and a cigarette caught between his lips.

So whenever he’d offer to talk to your boyfriends, you’d always say no. No, Aki, I don’t want you to talk to him.

Not that it was him you were worried about.

But even without him interfering directly, the root of the inevitable breakups that came was always him. The guys would always ask, Is there something I should know? Why does he look at you like that? 

And you’d deny it, tell your boyfriends one after another that they were imagining things; that Aki was just a friend. You’d say it until you were blue in the face, but there was fight after fight over him and he was none the wiser. You’d never tell him about the fights, or the real reason why you’d leave so many of those guys: so many of them would give you that ultimatum, him or me. And that choice was instantaneous, instinctual. It was always him. You’d choose that friendship every time, over everything else. It wasn’t even a question. 

But you know that if you were to tell him about any of it—the amount of arguments you’ve spent defending him, the amount of heartbreak you’ve been through over him (even though every heartbreak was more than worth preserving your friendship)—it would devastate him. You know all he wants is for you to be happy. It’s just that, sometimes, in the process of trying to keep you happy and safe, Aki can go overboard. 

None of them understood his intentions; they didn’t understand him.

But you—you understand Aki; why he is the way he is, and exactly the kind of person his trauma has molded him into: someone heavily guarded and suspicious of everyone. After what happened to his family, and the things he went through in his childhood afterward, he ceased to believe that this is a kind place. Aki doesn’t trust this world, or anyone in it. He’s someone lonely, self-reliant to a fault—this is the kind of person he was molded into, first by the death of his family, and then by the premature adulthood the incompetence of his foster family forced him into.

So no matter how much he feels on the inside, on the outside Aki remains frigid and apathetic. That’s the face he puts on for other people. That’s what he is on the surface. He’s cold to strangers, and he’s cold to himself. Cold enough to isolate himself, to afford himself no sympathy and deal with everything on his own. 

But no matter how hard he tried to be lonely, you were there. And finally he let you in, and then you met the real him.

The same person who withholds so much from himself is also one of the most indulgent people you know. To those he cares about he’s soft, sacrificing, infinitely caring; someone who’d do and give anything and everything for the people he cares for. Time, money, effort; none of it’s an object. Aki never had a lot but it was always yours. Even when he started fighting in high school, if he was spending money on anything nonessential, it was always for you. And then, when he got his first real job fixing up beaters at the car shop, he got his first real paycheck and blew it on you. 

He’s as indulgent now as he was back then, if not more so.

So of course he’s rolling your joint for you. All the pleading you did was just for fun—it’s always a little entertaining to put on puppy dog eyes and watch him melt through them.

And now you’re watching him get everything ready for you: leaned over the console (eyes down, long eyelashes brushing against his cheeks) as he tears a piece from an old cigarette box to fold a little filter for your joint. 

He taps the weed from the grinder onto the paper. Quick, familiar, and with the same assuredness that his hands always have. With confidence. He’s been doing this for years. Even though he rarely smokes (with the exception of those times when you ask him to do it with you), he rolls up for you every single time.

His long, slender fingers cradle the rolling paper, rocking it back and forth until the weed is packed down. Both of you are leaned forward, closing the gap over the console; he’s intent on the joint, and you’re so intent on him that you can smell the menthol on him under the weed, see the slight shine of the ring on his finger. The tattoos on his skin are just amorphous shapes in the dim light of the moon that filters through the car windows, but you remember them better than you can see them. 

He’s attentive: neat, accurate, consistent with everything he does. Especially this. Exactly the right texture, exactly the right amount every time—so precise that he never drops any while he’s rolling. And he’s always had a light hand, always been so gentle with everything for you.

He’s only ever treated you gently. You’ve only seen the rough side of him come out on your behalf, and even then he barely lets you see it. So tonight feels different. Not just for you—because by now you can admit that something within yourself, the way you feel toward him, has changed. But something about him feels different. Vulnerable. That he’s letting you see him so frustrated and so intense—that difference must mean something. A shift. A change.

But the movements of his fingers stay the same. Consistent, well-practiced; he preps the joint until it’s ready to seal, and then he’s tucking the lower edge down. It’s effortless when he rolls it upward between his fingertips. And you can’t stop looking at them.

You can’t stop that feeling building in the pit of your stomach that intensifies when you imagine him touching you with the same purpose—expert fingers on your body, and you know they’d know how to touch, because somehow Aki always knows what he’s doing, always shows you how things should be done the right way. That’s how it’s always been.

Eager to please, eager to give; you imagine him teaching you what that eagerness feels like with his fingertips.

He brings the joint up to his lips—licks up the top edge to wet the seal, the silver of the piercing on his tongue catching the low moonlight. And then you’re imagining it on you, imagining him running his tongue up your body the same way he’s treating the paper.

His tongue on you; his teeth on you. 

The bite of the words on his tongue earlier—Don’t text him back. 

Drop him.

He’s always been protective, but never quite like this. There’s something about tonight.

I could tell you that you aren’t allowed, he’d said.

Tonight, it feels like more than protection; it feels almost like possession. Like ownership. The imperative in his voice. You know the sting in it wasn’t meant for you, not directed toward you, but you like the feeling nonetheless. Maybe you like the feeling not just of being protected, but owned.

You suppose that’s the thing about you: you’ve always belonged to him in one way or another.

It shouldn’t have taken you so long to realize it. It’s been this way for years: craving his guidance over anyone else’s, his approval, both of those things as sacred to you as scripture; and what else could it mean—what else could it be but a desire for his control—that the only person you’d ever let dictate any part of your life, tell you what’s good for you, tell you what you need, is him?

What one person in this entire world would you entrust yourself to other than him? 

And who deserves that trust more than him?

Take it further, you want to say. I know you want to. After all these years, it’s all hitting you at once, too. Isn’t it?

But even if it is, you know Aki is too good to take things any further. He’s too cautious—focused on the consequences of his actions, intent on protecting all the things important to him, after losing so much—to do selfish things on a whim. Aki doesn’t do things for himself; he puts all of his own desires aside to fulfill those of the people he cares for. Give him the option to give or take, and he’ll give up every part of himself before taking a single thing from someone else. So even on the off chance that he’d allow himself to accept whatever feelings he might have—even if Aki is dying to have more of you, all of you—there are certain boundaries he’d never cross alone. This is one of them: a little line in the sand separating the two of you at the point where friendship blurs into something else. He would rather help you find someone who treats you right and watch you be happy from a distance than risk a lifelong friendship by confessing that he wants more. 

You want to say: It’s okay if you want to be greedy with me. I’m already yours.

Something isn’t really yours until you own all of it, right?

Maybe he’s too good to cross that line, but you—you want something, too; you want more, too; you want him to stop holding back so he can finally possess you with the same imperative that crept into his words earlier. You want to belong to him in a new way. To let him have you all the way.

Not just idling touches, but lingering ones that cover every part of you, leaving no inch of you unclaimed.

As much as Aki wants, for once, to take, you want to give him everything.

Maybe he feels you looking at him—all these thoughts passing in a split second as he seals the joint, fingers pressing the paper down until the seam adheres—because he looks up.

“What is it?” he asks, meeting your eyes, fingers still idling on the joint.

“I was just watching. You’re so good at that,” —(you’re so good with your hands, you think)— “you’re practically a pro.” 

He smiles slightly, and you think it looks abashed as he holds the finished joint out to you between his fingers.

“Don’t flatter me, princess,” —he pulls back the joint slightly when you reach for it, as if to withhold it (but not by much)— “You just want to keep using me as your personal joint roller.”

“It gives you purpose,” you say, plucking it away from him. “Tell me you don’t live for being of service.”

“Depends on what the service is. And who it’s for.”

“Well. Aren’t I lucky, then?” you smile, leaning over the console toward him with the unlit joint waiting between your fingers.

He slips a hand into his pocket, comes back out with a lighter you’ve seen a thousand times before—because it’s the same lighter he used to carry for his smokes; and he still carries it now that he’s quit. There are no smokes left to light, and Aki doesn’t even need that lighter anymore. But he still carries it. Just for this, just for you: 

Just to give you a light when you need it. When you’re leaned over the console like this, and it’s all so familiar that he knows exactly what you want before you even have to ask. He always leans in with you at the same time, actions synced, timing just right; his hand on the lighter—one flick, two, and then the flame is jumping to life in the small space between the two of you.

And in that little sphere of warm light, with the storm still coming down cold and blue and dark outside the car windows, you lean close to him; you bask in the warmth as you twirl the joint between your fingers, holding it over the flame he always lights for you, with a growing heaviness in your chest.

The fire eats at the paper; it catches, but the lighter’s still feeding the flame. You look upward. And there you find that Aki’s not even looking at the joint to make sure it’s caught. His eyes aren’t on the lighter he’s holding, either. They’re on you, watching your lips.

The heat flares, the orange glow on his face like firelight. He meets your eyes, and then that look is gone just as soon as you’ve caught it. The flame dies; he’s cast in darkness, in the indigo shadow of the storm. Aki tucks the lighter back into his pocket, and the car is dim again, except for the fire eating away at the end of the joint. It flares on the inhale.

Smoke in your lungs. A new strain from the same dealer, just to try it.

Something new, something different; just like all of this—for you, and now you’re absolutely sure of it: for him, too. 

You bring your eyes up to his, exhaling smoke into his face.

“I can’t let anyone else roll up for me,” you smile. “No one does it quite like you.”

He holds his vape out through the smoke, and you bump it with the joint, the same as you used to do to his cigarettes—Cheers.

“To old times,” he says.

There’s something there. You’re sure of it. But maybe it’ll take a little push. 

“New ones, too,” you say.

/ / / / / 

Just like old times. 

You kick back in his passenger seat and smoke until your eyes are low—until the air in the car is thick and hazy and swirling with the smell of weed and menthol. He breathes your secondhand smoke; you breathe vapor.

And when the first joint is smoked down, he rolls up for you again.

“God,” you laugh, taking the new joint from him with a lazy grin—voice relaxed, even more smiley than usual. “You always know how to make me feel so much better, Aki.”

That’s all I want, he thinks. To make everything all better for you.

You’ve always complained that he does too much for you. That it must be such a hassle to take care of you all the time.

Don’t you get tired of it? you’d asked him once. 

He harbors a guilty little secret, something he’d never tell you: he’s a sucker for picking up the pieces. Don’t get him wrong—he hates to see you hurt, would do anything in the world to prevent it; but when you are hurt, Aki loves to be the one to kiss it better.

He’ll patch it all up for you, every single time, because he’s dying to make it all okay. If there’s a problem, he’ll talk you through it; and if that’s not enough—if you need more—he’ll give you whatever you ask. He’ll smoke you out until he can hear the relief in your voice, until he can see the relaxation in your posture. When you go up, and when you come back down, he’ll be there.

And there’s something about knowing that he’s the only one you’ll go to for it. There’s something about being the only one who gets to provide that for you that makes some dark part of him feel good.

The feeling he gets from tending to you never gets old; he’s had it since you were kids, knows he’ll always have it: the urge to protect you, to solve every problem for you. To keep you happy and safe.

So, no—he’ll never get tired of taking care of you; he’ll roll up joint after joint for you and keep leaning over just like this to light it, if only to keep a smile on your pretty face.

The lighter catches on the first flick this time, the flame illuminating your smile—dazzling in the darkish, hazy air of the smoke-filled car—as you twist the new joint over it. He can’t stop watching your face, the way the light falls on it, haze-obscured and beautiful.

Untouchable. 

You’ve always been pretty; maybe too pretty for your own good, because there’s always been so much to protect you from. People who might look at you in ways they shouldn’t. People who might want you for the wrong reasons. And he’s always been here to shut it down, to guard you from it all; so now, why—why is he looking at you for all the wrong reasons? 

Why is he looking at you in the exact way he shouldn’t? Why’s he imagining laying you down—getting you on your back, and watching all the expressions cross your pretty face when he shows you what it feels like to be treated right?

“Thank you, Aki,” you murmur.

The joint’s lit.

He’s slipping the lighter back into his pocket, throat tight. It’s hard to breathe. Not from the thickening haze in the car, but from the way you lean closer and closer the higher you get. Laughs lazy, movements sloppy. Dress straps slipping down your shoulders.

You’re always like this, and he’s always looking out for you. But this time, he’s catching a glimpse he shouldn’t. A split second of his eyes wandering and he’s looking down your falling neckline, seeing your cleavage and the lacy outline of your bra. And then—he doesn’t mean to, but he’s imagining pressing you down into the leather of his backseat, with your tits under his chest, and your thighs spreading to wrap around his waist, and your voice soft as you murmur into his mouth: You always know how to make me feel so much better, Aki.

He’s trying so hard to clear these thoughts—of making you feel better, putting his hands all over you and feeling how soft you are under him; of tasting the skin on your throat while he’s grazing his hands up your thighs, up your dress—as he slips the lighter back into his pocket with his heart hammering, watching you wrap your lips around the joint he rolled for you. He’s trying so hard he feels like it’s going to kill him when he forces himself to look away and rest back in the seat.

He takes another hit off the pen, needs the nicotine desperately. Something to tide him over. It’s quiet in the car, but the storm continues to thicken, heavy raindrops pelting at the windows. The odd roll of thunder. The car’s fogged up, full of smoke. Illuminated by the odd lightning strike from afar that casts the two of you, and the fog separating you, in split seconds of bright blue light.

“Can I admit something to you, Aki?”

He looks over at you through the haze. Your head back on the seat, eyes pensive, hazy as the air; you’re usually more talkative, which means something’s on your mind.

“Anything,” he says.

Another drag from the joint, and you blow the smoke out slowly, watch it hang in the thick air. “This whole casual dating thing is kind of a bummer.”

He shakes his head. “You know I don’t like to see you hurt.”

You force a smile. “I’m not hurt, Aki. I mean, it’s a bummer, but I’m alright.” 

But you’ve always been like this, even when you were younger. I’m okay, Aki, you’d say, with a smile plastered on your face. I’m just fine—even when things were at their very worst, and you were one hairline fracture from shattering into a million pieces. But that was the point of bringing you here, where you could talk and wait and smoke it out until you really were okay. 

“I’m just saying,” he says, “if someone’s not treating you right…”

“Then what?” you muse, with a fond smile on your face. “What’ll you do?”

“Whatever you want me to do to make it better,” he says simply.

You laugh, heavy eyes fluttering shut—lifted. 

“I know you will,” you say, fixing him with a genuine smile as you bring the joint up to your lips again. “You’re a good guy.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, both of you inhaling at the same time. You exhale; he holds his for a second, then breathes the vapor out a moment later, watching it join the smoke in the air. The two mingle, become indistinguishable. 

“When I was younger I used to think all guys would be a little like you. Giving, selfless. Caring.” You pause to laugh, but this time it’s a little sardonic. “But I found out that most of them are the opposite.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Depends on the guy,” you say. “Some are selfish. Some are just distant. Harsh. Cold. Among other things.” 

He’s quiet for a second, puffing on the Juul—pretending that hearing about people being selfish, distant, harsh, and cold to you—among other things?—doesn’t get under his skin.

“I shouldn’t have let you set the standard,” you say through the smoke. “You gave them too much to live up to.”

Aki glances at you through the haze in the car as thunder rolls above, but you’re looking out through the windshield again. At the storm, at nothing in particular; the rain’s coming down so heavily everything outside is a blur. And your face is unreadable.

 Set the standard? What do you mean by that? 

That you’ve been looking for someone like him?

No, he thinks—he’s reading too much into it, too caught up in those fleeting thoughts from earlier and now he’s thinking all kinds of strange things. You couldn’t have meant anything by it. 

“There have to be some good guys out there, right?” he says finally. “It can’t all be bad.” 

That makes you laugh.

“Oh, it’s all bad,” you grin lazily around the joint. “I mean, I’ve told you most of it. But I never told you what a mess these guys are in bed, did I? That’s selfish on a whole new level.” 

In bed? 

Aki feels his mouth go dry, feels another image surfacing that shouldn’t be: that pretty dress pulled up, pulled off, leaving just the lace of your bra and panties beneath it, the rest of your skin bare; and then, hands on you—no, someone else’s hands on you—and that puts a pit in his stomach. 

He grits his teeth. Takes another hit off the vape and mutters, “Oh. Really?” 

Scumbag, he thinks, how are you any better than the rest of them? Maybe he’s the worst of them all. For fantasizing about you when you’ve trusted him like a brother your entire life. For the jealousy, and for the fact that the thought of you being with anyone else makes his skin crawl.

For the gutting realization that maybe these feelings aren’t because he wants to protect you, but for reasons that are far more selfish.

“Really,” —you study him through the smoke with a curious look on your face, and something in your eyes that’s almost mischievous, the punchline of a joke he’s not in on— “Do you want to know all the dirty details?” 

He’s torn. Stuck somewhere between not wanting to know, and needing to know, the same way he needs to know about everything in your life that isn’t enough. Everything he can fix for you. All the things that fall short, so he can make them up to you.

But above all else—putting aside all these feelings that are as intense as they are confusing—when he says you can tell him anything, he means it.

“We can talk it out,” he says.

“Okay.”

And then you’re slouching forward over the console—just like old times: you’ve always been a bit of a gossip for him; you’d always run to him with the secrets you told your friends you wouldn’t tell a soul. You can’t tell anyone this, but… But you trusted him, made him the only exception to the rule, told him every single thing. You confided in him back then just like you are now: head tilted slightly to the side, joint between your fingers; so close, voice low, as if someone might hear—as if it weren’t just the two of you in the hazy warmth of his smoke-filled car.

On the bank of the lake, in the middle of the night, with the summer storm still coming down; with droplets rolling down the windows to melt your view of the surroundings, as if the entire world outside were made of water. And here, in this safe haven, it’s just the two of you, and you’re telling him all your secrets, the same way you always have.

You tell him secrets you know he won’t share with anyone else. Secrets meant for you and him only, just like this place, just like this proximity.

“Aki…” 

Your lips turn up in a conspiratorial smile, the smoke drifting from your mouth; he waits, breathes in your secondhand, looking you in the eyes; and for a second, the closeness is dizzying, makes him feel as high as you look.

“... None of the guys I’ve been with have ever made me cum.”

author's endnote from @uppermocns: bello everyone, i hope u enjoyed the second part of menthol!! ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) cassie and i are excited to be sharing what is easily one of our favorite elements of this story – fighter aki! we were inspired by chapter 45 of chainsaw man ("sorry for makin' you come by and school these guys!") so naturally, we thought – take aki's canon ability to kick ass, his protectiveness over dear menthol reader, and some other key moments of menthol aki's origins that will definitely be revealed in the prequel... next thing you know, menthol is like 850k and aki is a sexy badass that can and will beat up your exes. make sure u tell cassie how incredible their writing is & that u wuv them very much. the moment you've all been waiting for is coming soon!

[ayyy-pee]

hello! I am incredibly in love with how you write!! I couldn't get enough of it then it hit me, I had an idea for a smut (if you're taking requests of course) wherein jujutsu and chainsaw man are in the same universe. reader is an jujutsu sorcerer who lives in a different district but had to come in tokyo since they have heard about some sightings of a cursed spirit they've been hunting down for months then somehow reader had ended up staying there for three months, since it's the public safety devil hunter's it is in their jurisdiction to accompany reader hence she was made to stay at the same apartment with the trio but in the last room in the same floor as them (some of the upper ups made the reader stay for further investigation). then there begins subtle glances that escalates to aki willingly helps reader in said investigation one day to hook ups every so often with the chances they can get since reader is only staying for three months. (after that it's up to you if you want it to evolve into a relationship or they made a pact that their hook up is only good for 3 months)

helloooooo sorry it took me a bit to get to this! I really REALLY enjoyed this prompt so I wanted to take my time with it (also I got busy with life asldkjs anyway). I really hope you like what I came up with!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

wc: 3.8k

warnings: smut, profanity, vaginal fingering, alley sex, mutual masturbation, needy aki, slight mention of violence, vaginal penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, sex sex sex, panty kink, aki steals your panties, he probably doesn't give them back

You sip your coffee on the balcony as you take in the early morning sunrise over Tokyo. You can hear the commotion just below, the jingle of the train calling passengers to board, planes zipping overhead. It’s so beautiful here despite the ugliness that lies within. Swallowing your drink, you sigh, feeling the warmth spread through your body.

Three months.

It’s been three months since you ended up stuck in this district of Tokyo. What business did a Jujutsu sorcerer have in the Public Safety Devil Hunter’s district anyway? One that required a shit ton of paperwork and temporary housing with an assigned chaperone until your business was finished.

And it was. You had completed your mission and it would only be a matter of time before they would be calling you to go back home. Three months ago, you would’ve been ecstatic to get right back out of this part of town. Now, the thought just makes you sad.

“You okay?” A deep voice brings you back to the present. You look up, dark blue eyes staring into your own curiously. “You spaced out when I was talking to you.” He lifts his own mug of coffee up to his lips, sipping the warm drink he’d made you both this morning. Always so kind, this one. You try not to stare back for too long, should your face start heating up the way it’s been lately when you two are alone.

“I’m good, Aki. Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Just asking if you’ve heard from your higher ups?”

You chuckle quietly. “Why? Getting sick of me?”

Aki hums, a small smile spreading across his lips. His eyes still watch you as he plucks a cigarette he’s hidden from behind his ear. The smile soon falls as he rolls it around in his fingers, his intense gaze full of questions. 

“Now that you’ve exorcized your curse, what’s going to happen?” Aki asks, lips curling around his cigarette as he lights. 

“It’s not my curse. It’s just a curse,” you reply, shrugging as you turn your attention back to the city. “And I go home now…I guess.”

From the corner of your eye, you just barely make out the way Aki’s brows raise subtly. He schools his features quickly, nodding. “Right away? Or…? Is there paperwork involved that’ll keep you here?”

You shake your head. “Not for me. My higher ups will take care of it, so I’ll head home.”

“Got it.”

The silence lingers. And you let it. It gives you time to appreciate what you’ve gotten to experience here in this short time.

If you were to be grateful for anything the last few months, it’s that Aki was assigned to you as your chaperone. Your sudden appearance within the district threw a wrench in his plans, sure, but he accepted you as a new roommate regardless, though it was more an assignment for him at first than out of the kindness of his heart. Aki made it easy for you to adjust. He gave you a home when you needed one. He was cordial and respectful. It was a relief.

…It’s complicated with Aki now. There’s feelings involved. Your initial relationship began as colleagues of sorts, you accompanying each other when you had business to take care of. You because originally, you wanted to get rid of the curse as quickly as possible and go home. Aki, because he wasn’t allowed to let you out of his sight. This soon changed into friendship, getting lunch together, cooking dinner together. 

Dinner went from awkward and quiet conversation to loud laughs and shared smiles between you, Aki and his siblings. It became Aki brewing an extra cup of coffee in the morning for you. It became you packing Aki a home cooked meal when he had to go out and you weren’t required to be with him. Then it soon became small touches shared between you and Aki, hands brushing against each other when cooking together. Aki leaning over your shoulder to watch you stir what you were making and you’d swear you could feel his lips ghost over your skin before he was gone. It became stealing glances when you could and catching Aki watching you.

All this soon added up to shy advances between you both. Aki brushing his fingers over yours while you watched a movie on the couch together. Aki’s hand finding the small of your back to guide you whenever he’d hold a door open for you. You squeezing past Aki, sure to lightly rub your ass against his crotch when you bump into each other in the small space of the bathroom. You love the way he inhales sharply when you do it.

Weeks of this sexual tension builds up. It’s unbearable…for you anyway. Aki is as cool as ever as far as you can tell. You’re not sure where he stands. 

That is…until the day you finally encounter your curse in a dark alley. It’s got Aki backed against the wall, his sword tossed aside. The ugly thing is raising its disgusting claw into the air, snarling as it makes to bring its claw down on him. Aki lifts his hand up, shaping his fingers into what appears to be a fox in front of his eye. He opens his mouth to speak…only to see the curse’s head burst open as you shatter its skull with a swift kick. It lands on the other side of the alley with a nasty crunch.

You’re breathing harshly as you step towards Aki, watching as the curse disintegrates. But Aki is only focused on you, eyes darting all over your body like he’s trying to take inventory of any potential new markings or injuries. He steps closer to you, his hand coming up to lace his fingers through yours. It pulls your attention back to him.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, all of his worry dripping from his voice.

“No.” 

You see the relief wash over Aki.

“Good.”

And then he pulls you into him, a hand coming up to cup the back of your head as he looks down at you. You meet his gaze. There’s a question in them. You know what he’s asking, the confirmation when his eyes dart down to your lips. He’s waiting for an answer from you. And you give it to him. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down, lips crashing into his with fervor. 

It’s messy, desperate, like you’ve both been holding back your desire for this. And you have. Each smack of your lips together pulls a new sound from each of you. You, with your hushed sighs and soft moans. Aki, with his quiet grunts and deep groans. This is what the last few weeks have been building up to. Your hands exploring each other's bodies, pulling and grabbing at each other desperately.

Aki spins you both so that your back is pressed against the wall now, hands letting go of you so he can pull the skirt of your sorcerer uniform up.

“Is this okay?” He breathes against your lips. You nod.

“Yes, Aki,” his lips are slotted against yours again, just briefly. “It’s fine. Keep going.”

He bunches your skirt up at your waist, feels the hem of your panties and slides his fingers into the waistband. Aki breaks the kiss briefly to pull them down your legs, helping you maneuver your feet out of them until they’re completely off. You watch as he stands back up, holding your panties in his hand. His eyes are glued to the little fabric in his palm, one particular spot. He doesn’t say anything as he gently runs his thumb over the little slick spot at the center, eyes fluttering shut when he feels your arousal beneath his finger.

He pockets your panties a second later and then he’s back on you, tongue in your mouth when you gasp. You’ve been wanting this, dreaming about this, fantasizing about this moment with Aki. 

Aki slips his hand between your legs as he kisses along your neck, inhaling sharply when his fingers dip into your folds and finds you soaking wet. “God, you’re so ready for me,” he breathes against your skin. You whine quietly as Aki presses a finger to your clit, rubbing tight circles against you. “You could’ve died,” he sighs as he leans down, pressing hot kisses to your neck.

“Who cares? I didn’t,” you pant into the air, hands finding solace on Aki’s shoulders.

“I care. If you died, I’d never see you again.”

His fingers continue working your clit. And you’re turning into nothing but a messy puddle in his hand, slick dripping into his palm.

“You won’t see me again anyway. I’m leaving now that the curse is gone.”

"You could stay," he murmurs into your neck. You can hear the small plea in his voice. It pulls at your heartstrings. Because you could stay, but you won’t. You don’t belong here.

"Aki, don't make this more than what it is," you tell him, trying to sound stern, failing when your voice comes out shaky and weak. Aki pulls back to look at you and you could drown in those deep ocean eyes of his.

"Stay here with me." 

"You don't mean that." 

"I do. I've wanted to ask you to stay for weeks now. You belong here. With me." 

Aki kisses you again. It’s desperate. You can taste and feel all his desire and sadness poured into it. And you give it right back to him, all your desire and sadness and desperation. You kiss like this for a while, like it’s the last time before Aki pulls back to look at you again, takes one of your hands in his and presses your palm to his groin. His eyes flutter closed briefly when he feels you press against him. You can feel how hard he is beneath your palm. 

"Look what you do to me," he whispers, voice rough. You can’t help the moan that rushes past your lips when you feel his cock pulse in your hand. "Not just right now. Everyday,” Aki brings his face down, ghosting his lips over your cheeks, along your jaw, your lips as he speaks. “When I see you in the morning or before bed, I have to go back to my room and fuck my hand two, maybe three times just so I’m able to function for the day, so I can sleep at night,” He rocks his hips forward, quietly grunting. “I don't think you know the effect you have on me. How badly I've been wanting you, knowing I can’t have you."

Your eyes are shut, simply drowning in the feeling of Aki. You want him too. Badly. You’ve been wanting him for months now. Aki doesn’t know how badly you’ve been trying to keep it platonic between you both, even with the occasional teasing. He has no idea that at night, when the apartment is finally quiet, your hand slides into your panties with nothing but the thought of Aki on your mind.

“I want you, Aki,” you confess softly. You push him back gently, just enough that you can look into his eyes…and you can see through them, straight to his heart when you do. “Let’s have just this one time.”

Your hands glide down Aki’s chest, down his torso and to his belt, unbuckling it before you unbutton his pants and slide them and his boxers down just enough so you can pull his length out. You wrap your hand around him, squeeze gently and Aki whimpers, unable to stop himself from thrusting forward into your hand, desperate for your touch. His lips find yours, tongue quickly entering the warm cavern, your tongues tangling together. He’s big and so hot, so hard, so heavy in your palm. You can feel your arousal dripping down your leg in anticipation of Aki filling you completely. You run your thumb over the tip, already dripping with pre-cum, and use it to lubricate your hand as you stroke his length up and down.

“Ah - ngh, fuck,” Aki pants into your mouth. It makes you moan back into his as he slips a finger inside of you. He pumps into you once, twice, groans because you’re so fucking wet he easily slips two more fingers in.

You’re in your own bubble together, the outside world almost completely forgotten. Almost. You’re out in the open, essentially jerking each other off in a dark alley. You can’t be caught here, Aki with his hand between your legs and you with his cock in your hand. 

You break the kiss, gasping for air, your walls clamping down on Aki’s fingers. You’re so close already. Aki whimpers again when you separate, pressing his forehead to yours as he continues curling his fingers, hitting the exact spot that’s bound to send you over the edge at any moment. And you’re pumping his cock like your life depends on it as you softly murmur:

“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure.”

The words just barely leave your mouth before a moan rushes past your lips, the world blurring around you both in an instant.

And Aki is still pumping into you, you’re still stroking him. Your breaths are mingling together as Aki runs his nose along the bridge of yours, a string of curses leaving his lips as his hips rock forward into your hand. All these weeks of pent up frustration and desire for Aki are starting to come down on you, pooling right in your center where the coil is getting tighter and tighter, ready to snap any second.

And when Aki presses his lips to yours, not kissing you, just whining a needy, “Stay with me,” against your lips, it’s your undoing. Your mouth falls slack with a silent cry as your release rips through your body. You can hear and feel the gush of your orgasm against Aki’s hand, the obscene smacking of his palm meeting your core filling the air. You’re not sure you’ve ever cum so hard in your life just from someone fingering you.

Aki is still thrusting into your hand, groaning loudly against you, at how tight your walls are around his fingers. He’s close too. You can tell by the way his legs shake with each thrust into your hand. He kisses you roughly as he pulls his fingers out of you before he gently pulls your hand from his dick.

“Can I cum in you, baby?” He asks quietly, his own hand wrapping around his cock to use your slick as lubrication. His nostrils flare, jaw clenching as he tries to hold off his own release while he pumps his cock.

You nod. You want to feel him filling your walls, giving you all of him. “Yes, Aki. Give me everything.”

He moans your name, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hoist you up and you wrap your legs around him as he positions himself at your entrance. You’re watching each other, drinking in each other’s fucked out expressions and you think for a quick second that you really could stay here if it means you get to see Aki’s face looking like this everyday. But you can’t. You shake the thought away as quickly as it comes.

Aki lowers you down, pressing forward until just the tip sits inside you. It’s enough to make your pussy squeeze down in anticipation. Just the tip and he already feels so fucking good. He curses under his breath quietly before he leans forward and presses a kiss to your collarbone, then to the crook of your neck.

And it’s like Aki reads your mind because he groans, “You feel so fucking good already,” against your neck as he lowers you down to take more of him inch by inch until he’s fully sitting inside you. The weight of his cock in your walls almost makes you cum right then. It’s a perfect fit.

“Aki,” you whine as he bottoms out immediately, letting out a strangled groan as he wastes no time before he’s fucking into you at a relentless pace. The pleasure shoots up your spine as he stretches your walls over and over.

“Shit, my first and only time having this pussy and I already know I’m gonna miss it so…fucking…much,” Aki moans, punctuating each word with a rough thrust. You keen into the air, gripping onto his shoulders as he talks to you. It’s the only response you’re able to give while he’s fucking into you so hard, so good.

“You gonna miss my cock, baby?” 

“Yes, yes. ‘m gonna miss your cock so much,” you whine. “I’m gonna miss you so fucking much.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘m gonna miss you, Aki.”

He grunts at your confession, hips stuttering just a bit as his pace increases and you can feel the telltale signs of your second release coming. Your walls are fluttering, your breath is hitching, you’ve got a vice grip on Aki’s shoulders as he rocks his hips into yours. 

“You gonna cum again baby?” Aki’s hands find your ass, spreading your cheeks so he can further split you open, the loud sound of his balls slapping against your ass filling the space of the veil.

“‘m gonna cum, Aki. Fuck, ‘m gonna–”

“Gimme another, baby,” Aki interrupts, groaning loudly. “Gimme another because I’m gonna cum, too.”

He pounds into you, licks a stripe up your neck and to your mouth. And the moment your lips touch, your walls spasm around Aki as your second release shoots through you. Then Aki’s hips are stuttering again and you can feel rope after rope of hot cum spilling into you as Aki pushes his cock as deeply as he can into you while you both whimper loudly into each other’s mouths.

Aki doesn’t stop thrusting even as you come down from your highs, fucking his cum back into you for as long as he can. He could probably go again, but he knows he shouldn’t. You’re already at risk of being caught here. When he finally halts his movements, he pulls back and looks you over, kissing you swiftly before he looks around, clearly confused.

“What is this?” He asks, lifting you up to pull out, hissing quietly when he feels your bodies disconnect. He sets you down on your feet and you look around as well. You’d almost forgotten you put it up.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s a veil,” you tell him as you fix your uniform. Aki gives you a look as if he wants you to further explain more. “It just keeps us hidden. Protected.”

Once Aki has fixed himself up, you drop the curtain. Aki retrieves his sword. He doesn’t ask anymore questions which works in your favor. He doesn’t make it awkward. You don’t talk about what just happened. Aki simply tells you “lets go home.” And you do, but not before asking for your panties back.

That was the first time you’d hooked up with Aki. You didn’t know you’d be stuck in the Devil Hunter’s district with him for weeks after you’d completed your mission. It was weird at first, because you’d fully intended to cut ties with Aki and go back home. But for some reason, your higher ups made you stay.

The awkwardness of adjusting to still living with Aki after sleeping together in a dirty, dark alley soon faded and quickly turned into quick hookups whenever you got the chance. It went from pretending nothing happened to Aki bending you over the bathroom sink in the mornings before Denji and Power got up, you sucking Aki off under his desk at the office, Aki practically fucking you through the mattress every night then you sneaking back to your own room in the morning before Denji and Power woke up. You were sure they knew what was going on. You both weren’t particularly quiet and sneaking back to your room soon turned into you sleeping in Aki’s bed, wrapped in his arms every night.

Every night with Aki brought you two closer, brought you to where you are right now. Sitting in silence on the balcony, drinking the coffee Aki made you while he reads his newspaper and you take in the hustle and bustle of the city below you.

Inside the apartment, the phone rings.

“I’ll get it,” you tell Aki, standing and making your way inside.

You cross through the living room, to the kitchen and pick up the phone from where it’s mounted on the wall. “Hello?”

You hear your name from the other end. It’s one of your higher ups assistants. “Sorry for the delay on this. Now that everything has been reviewed and your mission has been completed, we’ve received word you can return. Would you like to come back today? Or do you need time to get your belongings together?”

You’d never really unpacked in the first place. You lived out of your suitcase. You hadn’t brought much with you to begin with: a couple sets of your uniform, a few casual outfits and sleepwear. But lately, you’ve found yourself lounging around and sleeping in Aki’s large t-shirts, wearing his button ups on casual days out, sometimes letting him treat you to an outfit he sees you eyeing when you’re out and about. They’re all hanging in his closet.

Your gaze falls to the kitchen sink, full of dishes and you roll your eyes because it was Power’s turn to wash them last night. Of course she didn’t, though. You’ll have to literally wrestle her later to do them.

You’ll miss her when you’re gone, aggravating as she may be sometimes. You’ve grown pretty fond of her. And Denji. He sees you more like he sees Power. He no longer tries to “accidentally” catch glimpses of you changing or stare at your chest when you’re all together. Denji considers you a friend more than anything.

Then there’s Aki.

Your gaze lifts back up, catching him eyeing you through the window. And there’s something in his stare that makes your heart leap. There’s adoration in those dark blue eyes of his. He’s looking at you like you hang the moon and every star in the sky just for him. And there’s fear in them, too. Like if you go out there and tell him what he thinks you’re going to tell him, he’ll shatter into a million pieces before you.

“Hello? Are you there?” The assistant on the other end calls. Aki looks away, now staring out over the city. If he looked back, he’d probably see that you look at him like he hangs the moon and every star in the sky just for you.

“Actually, can you send over some transfer paperwork? I think I’m gonna stay.”

Tags: @ficti0nalslxt @getousbabymama @mykyoon @gloomiigloom @xocreedvo @alpacapum @athenaholmesher @nobody289x @sukunasseventhfinger @rumi-rants @Sacvh @suguju @watyousayin @nothisispatrick300

[angstigone]

𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, (𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭)

the title is a lyric from the song 'for your love' by maneskin

𝗛𝗮𝘆𝗮𝗸𝗮𝘄𝗮 𝗔𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝗿! 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

(A/N): hello there, lovelies!

the aki brain rot is real and I wouldn't be angstigone without a bit of angst. this is a further take on neighbor! reader but soon there'll be a fellow devil hunter! reader x aki (and somebody else).

in the meanwhile, as I am recently new to this fandom, pls consider interacting with my fics, especially if you enjoy it (I am not going to lie although I have only recently started with this fandom I do feel discouraged at the close environment and lack of interactions)

as always, a like, a reblog or a comment would help greatly.

have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: You still weren’t sure he was alive as he watched you with emptiness in his big blue eyes.

«… that you had died, and I hadn’t…».

Something akin to confusion appeared in his eyes and you knew it should have been a warning that you needed to get out. Process your almost grief on your own and let him process his own for his friends that he had lost.

Still, you couldn’t endure another sleepless night. 

Or maybe it was because of that sleepless night that your brain short-circuited.

«… told you how I feel about you».

confessions can be awful things, especially as you and aki are forced to face what they mean in your line of work.

WARNINGS: spoiler of the manga in the last part, hurt/no comfort, heavy angst, confessions, fear of rejection friends-to-lovers, neighbor-to-lover, mention of aki being in the hospital for injuries, neighbor! reader, writer! reader, the reader is kept nondescript, reader and aki shares a special brand of dark humor over chamomile.

Moving in a new city could be daunting, especially as a girl, living alone.

The landlady of the apartment complex you had transferred to attend university had, then, immediately insisted that you made good friends with your next-door neighbor, Hayakawa Aki.

A devil hunter and a distinguished gentleman, she had called him much to your veiled humor as you couldn’t believe that she wasn’t exaggerating.

And you had resolved yourself not to depend upon men, thinking that everybody made moving to an unknown city far more difficult than it truly was.

Then you had been faced with bringing up furniture from the bottom of the stairs. 

With no elevator in sight and even your good optimism had limits.

Suddenly you were glad for the landlady’s suggestion and that Hayakawa Aki was, indeed, a distinguished gentleman seeing you struggling with bringing up the stairs the microwave you had bought to heat up your ramen – the sole thing you could afford on the tiny allowance your scholarship gave you – and interceding promptly with but a few words and a steady hold although he looked as skinny as they came.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”.

He was in luck as you had bought it the previous day on a sale at the kombini nearby, trying to be a welcoming host as he simply shook off his head.

“I am in a rush to work”.

He had always been curt with you since then in any interaction to the point that you had started to think that although he happily helped you anytime you came knocking to his door – which was far often than you should – he thought you a nuisance.

So, slowly as you settled you resolved yourself not to bother him. 

You barely acknowledged him passing by the hallways with a curt nod of your head that he returned with even less emotion.

His clear disinterest in you was such a shame, as he was as pretty they came; kind and gentle and available and he’d have made a good neighbor had he been interested in the role.

Still, you understood that he was probably busy and definitely private and you, again, shushed your brain towards any thought in his direction till the night that you found yourself right outside of your terrace – next to his own – stirring a cup of steaming chamomile as you stood in the thin dress you had put for the date that you had been stood up on.

It felt silly thinking about it as you hadn’t been interested in a fully blown relationship, although being asked out and the act of getting yourself ready had you putting on rose-tinted glasses.

You had not seen the evident truth till your date was two hours late and the waiter came to you annoyed that you had been occupying the table without ordering anything.

The walk back home had been spent in shame as you, still, refused to rip yourself from the attire you had worn for the date, thinking that this way it wouldn’t go to waste.

The voice from the other terrace startled you:

«Bad night?».

You hadn’t known back then whether you had been more startled by the interruption of the silence or by the fact that your reserved neighbor had initiated an interaction with you, turning slowly as you came to face with a smoking man, wrapped into a comfortable robe. 

He looked so homely while you looked so haughty. 

The contrast somehow bringing a smile to your lips.

«You as well?».

Maybe digging into his own mind wouldn’t have been a good idea, after whole weeks of him clearly sending you signals that he wasn’t interested in opening up, but it seemed like tonight was full of surprises as he nodded.

«… I got stood up on a date».

And somehow it was without shame for once as you were sure that tomorrow you’d be facing the general hilarity for having believed the lie.

Still, that night, it seemed like somehow it didn’t matter.

«Lost a recruit» Hayakawa shot back, and you couldn’t help but dread your superficiality, remembering that he was a Devil Hunter. 

How many people he had probably seen dying right before his eyes? 

No wonder he didn’t want to create relationships, especially with a nosy and annoying neighbor who got stood up on dates and couldn’t build furniture.

«Then I think you won» you commented bitterly, turning lightly to the glass window, and thinking whether you should have left him alone, although he had started the conversation. 

He could have easily smoked the cigarette that laid forgotten in his right hand, ignoring her self-pity but he had spoken out.

And much to your surprise, he did it again, lightly cackling. 

The wet sounds of it being ignored in favor of echoing the rough timber of the thick voice of a smoker.

«… wasn’t aware we were in a competition».

«Makes it matter less don’t you think».

It was cynic and a sane person would have shut his glass door upon you, but Hayakawa simply moved closer, on the side of the terrace that was nearest to you while you laid frozen, unable to fully process that he wanted to talk more.

«… I… I mean… usually I write about whatever sad happens to me… it… exorcises the pain. And… with being a writer maybe… maybe I could develop a book around it… and…».

«You write?» it was still curt, the interaction, but it seemed like your neighbor was genuinely trying it.

«… not professionally».

It was what you told everybody, because there was no way your pathetic diary entries could be believed actual writing, although you enjoyed them and they did make you feel like writer.

«… as an hobby. I mean… I am studying at university something else… obviously I am aware that writing won’t… won’t sustain me or…».

«You don’t have to justify to me your life choices».

He had the audacity to lightly quirk his lips to you in an almost smile – that you’d have learned was the sole way Aki smiled around people he wasn’t yet comfortable but wanted to know better – as you flustered, feeling your cheeks heat up.

«… still, I think it’s impressive. As a hobby».

«And I think it’s impressive that you work as a Devil Hunter».

Although you liked to think of yourself as a courtesan of love, the phrase sounded so out of the meaning you had created it to have; it felt almost as if you were surprised he was a Devil Hunter. 

As if Aki lacked anything.

«… I mean… I don’t think that you aren’t… well… qualified or…».

«Do you ramble always this much or is it just because you barely touched that cup of chamomile?».

Which had grown cold by now, beside the harsh air of the night that had you shivering in your thin dress.

Well, he wasn’t half-wrong and although his inquisitive question was an almost-insult, you still felt yourself smiling at him as if he had conceded to you some mercy.

«Sorry, I… I’d like to say that it is the absence of chamomile in my body, but I do ramble a lot» you muttered, gently turning to the glass window as you thought the conversation over and readying your mind for the impossible task to divest while heating another pot for your chamomile.

«… I don’t mind» and again that half-smile, but it wasn’t enough «… would you… could I… ask you for a cup as well? Of chamomile».

It was so vulnerable and soft that for a moment you had forgotten who he was. 

How ineffable he had felt all those past weeks, while now you felt the pain right in his words, as he seemed so small in the robe.

«… I’d offer you something stronger, but the truth is that wine wasn’t on sale at the kombini» you joked, wanting him to smile at you again «… but if it’s chamomile that you want, I’ll leave the door unlocked in a few moments, feel free to barge in asking for your cup».

And like that it became a ritual whenever Aki would have a tough day at work, and you’d have one at uni. 

Even once you graduated – Aki taking a day off to attend the ceremony – you kept the tradition as your new job was shitty, but you still needed it to maintain your hobby of writing.

And through each chamomile cup you had fallen in love with Aki, after all it wasn’t possible not to.

He was even more than a pretty face and a distinguished gentleman. 

He was caustic and cynic and funny and sweet; when you had fallen sick on your first winter in the apartment – broken heating system to top it all – he had made sure to check with your daily till you got better and when the same thing had happened to you, he had complained for your frequent trips in his apartment to do the same, but he had still thanked you by taking you out for drinks.

You knew all his colleagues and you knew that he had a crush on Makima, his boss. 

The thought crushed you as you knew you could have never come close to the red-haired lady: you were coward, shy and weird. 

Nothing of you could equal the head of the Devil Hunter division’s natural grace and charm, although in your dreams you could at least pretend that you were his perfect girl.

And during the day you could pretend to be fine with being neighbor. 

Till the day you couldn’t anymore.

By now you had gotten used to Power’s horns being seen around the apartment complex, having oftentimes saved her from the gawking of the other residents by dragging her back to Aki’s apartment through the promise of treats. 

As you turned to enact your usual ‘evil plan’, you noticed that Power didn’t look her usual cocksure attitude, instead trembling lightly and when she turned to face you hearing her name, you noticed that she had blood all over yourself.

“What happened?”.

You felt the out of body experience when Power spat out with little to no filter.

“I had to come home. And leave them behind” you thought that there’d be regret in her eyes, hadn’t you known better “I think that both Denji and topknot are dead”.

And then your odyssey to discover whether Aki was alive or not had started, as you shamefully called each one of the hospitals in the area, passing yourself as a relative and asking whether Hayakawa was there. 

Whether he had come in a bag or not.

You had gone through so much that you had relented and called up the central bureau asking to be passed directly to Mrs. Makima, your tone turning into anger as you demanded that you were informed around the whereabouts of Aki.

“Are you, his girlfriend?”.

Obviously, you didn’t reach Makima as a gruff male voice answered, instead.

“Yes” the lie easily left your lips as you clutched the phone tighter in your hold, still stuck in your work clothes although it was past four a.m. and you were supposed to have a morning turn “… I… he hasn’t come back home and I… saw the news about the attack…”.

“The information is private for a reason” and just like that you felt yourself loving the hope, sobbing heavily against the receiver as if you had been told that he had died “… but if you are his girlfriend”.

You had waited the morning just because it had taken you hours to come back from the belief that he had died. 

That Power had been right as you called in sick to work – at least that was the decency before moving to grab something for him – you moved automatically like a robot and although the world moved around yourself it felt all slurred and slow, till you came right in front of the door and the time you spent waiting for the people inside Aki’s room to leave passed in a second.

«There’s a girl for you» muttered the same male voice you had heard through the phone, and you startled out, risking of letting the box of apples fall from your grasp «… lucky bastard».

You didn’t even process moving inside of the room. 

You just were there, and Aki had his hair loose, a tight robe and looked in pain, having obviously cried. And yet, before anything could happen, the apples were all scattered on the ground as your knees gave out and you had but little choice to clutch onto the sheets to keep yourself upright.

«Are… are you… alright?» of course, among all his sufferings Aki would still be mindful of others. 

A gentle nature hidden by the harsh grumpiness he fed to himself alongside smokes and coffee

«… you don’t look… so good. Don’t tell me that they’ll need to reserve a bed beside my own…».

«I thought you were dead» you didn’t think, you just spoke as the previous actions that had brought you face-to-face with him, inevitably saying the wrong thing at the worst time, as Aki’s gaze lowered on his joined hands, clearly at unease.

«They all died» it was barely above a whisper «… Arai… Himeno… the… recruits…».

You felt the heavy stone of loss, although you weren’t in any way close to them as Aki had been; still, you had been invited a few times in some outings and Himeno had promptly seen right through you when with the excuse of holding back her hair while she puked in the ladies’ room, she had told you, pointedly:

‘I’ll pay you whatever the fuck you want to convince Aki to fire himself from the Special Section’.

The ramblings of a drunkard that sounded like a prophecy.

«I…» you didn’t, in all truth, know what to say. 

Or better you know, as there was a pressing matter right into your chest, over your beating heart

«… am sorry. I… it feels…».

«… impossible?» Aki sufficed, although he always joked that the one with the pretty words was you.

His hands reaching out for a smoke, although the one in the ashtray was still warm. His movements were shaky and unsure and before you know it you were the one lighting it up while he held the stick to his lips.

«… it… it was a carnage».

Everybody had died.

Everybody but him.

And yet, neither your heart nor your brain were convinced, although you had him right in front of you, forcing to repeat yourself.

«I thought you had died».

You still weren’t sure he was alive as he watched you with emptiness in his big blue eyes.

«… that you had died, and I hadn’t…».

Something akin to confusion appeared in his eyes and you knew it should have been a warning that you needed to get out. Process your almost grief on your own and let him process his own for his friends that he had lost.

Still, you couldn’t endure another sleepless night. 

Or maybe it was because of that sleepless night that your brain short-circuited.

«… told you how I feel about you».

Never in your wildest dreams you had thought to confess to Aki. It always felt like bothering him with your feelings and each one of your dreams it was Aki that chose you above everybody, a fantasy that spoke of your egocentric attitude, as you selfishly went on.

«… I hadn’t… I hadn’t confessed that I can’t stop… I can’t stop it. The… constant thinking about you. Worrying about you».

Aki looked startled almost like a deer caught in headlight and somehow it spurred on as the word vomit started.

«I couldn’t… I couldn’t have told you how ardently I admire you» maybe you were a writer after all, although you were borrowing the words from your favorite book «… that I… that if you had died yesterday I wouldn’t… I don’t know how I’d have lived. I… I’d have survived at best because part of my heart would have gone with you. Because since you caught me on that balcony, I have been yours and the sole thought terrified me enough that I couldn’t… I couldn’t say anything till…».

Till it was almost too late.

And still, this didn’t justify you from spurring on your – very unwanted – feeling on Aki. Especially when he wasn’t interested.

Especially when he had lost everything and you came barging in – apple basket in your hands, although an apple was already on his nightstand – blaring to him your endless and pathetic love for him, when he wasn’t interested.

If you hadn’t ruined it when you had started speaking you had by now as Aki’s mouth opened and close, unable to reproduce sounds. 

Or maybe it was your ears which sounded staticky and blurry.

It was too much, although it was just the silence. 

And it was yet as overwhelming as a rejection.

You shouldn’t be there, and although just dumping your feelings onto Aki with no chance to let him scream at you about the inappropriateness of the whole speech was terrible, you had to stop yourself. 

Stop it before you spoke with self-pity and lost it.

You ran and for the rest of the week – aware that Aki had come back to the hospital five days after you had seen each other – you had avoided your neighbor; your lives had been so intertwined that you knew exactly where he’d be at each moment and after he had knocked on your door on the first night back and you had hold an hand over your mouth not to sob, you had taken onto avoiding him.

You would take turns when he’d be at work. 

The grocery would happen only when you heard him coming back and you also avoided Denji and Power whenever they’d be at the entrance coming from their patrols, worried that they might somehow report to Aki, although this just brought you to become more suspicious.

Power, once, caught you off guard; she wasn’t kind as she slammed you against the wall and strangely you didn’t feel scared when her bloody blade was pressed against your neck, not enough to draw blood but enough to be felt.

“Why did you stop visiting us?”.

You wanted to correct her that you hadn’t stopped visiting them. You had stopped to acknowledge their existence just for the peace of your mind after the horrible and heinous act you had committed.

“… did topknot and you have a fight?”.

And as if the light in your eyes was confirmation, she promptly released you as you crumbled against the wall. Lately the night brought you no comfort and your tiredness ached heavily across your body.

“I’ll kill him” Power muttered through gritted teeth “I’ll eat him up, if he is the reason why you don’t come to visit me and Nyako”.

And like that a new emotion showed on your face as the obvious threat, something that brought clarity to Power.

“… no…” she muttered meditatively “… you don’t want him dead. You…”.

“I can’t”.

Like that you ran away another time, locking yourself in the house for three days and not going to work, sure that you’d be fired but scared that if you got out, suddenly you’d be forced to confront two notions: you were grieving an alive man and Aki knew what you felt about him.

And inevitably your paranoia and the lack of sleep had you slipping.

That night you had gone out drinking, and when you had come back the shoes in your hands had fallen on the ground while you tried to push your keys in your keyhole.

You had cursed through gritted teeth as you lost your balance to crunch forward, expecting a harsh contact between the cheap linoleum of the hallways and your ass, but nothing ever came as a warm and steady hand gently stabilized you while another grabbed your shoes.

Aki had opened your door a few too many times when you, a lightweight, had come back from drinks and hadn’t been able to do such an act. 

He was familiar with the gesture and such a thing brought you enough comfort to have the audacity to lean against him.

It must be a dream, because he was soft, and he smiled of laundry detergent.

Because he wasn’t spitting in your face or chasing you out, as he gently cradled your face in his hands.

“What will I do with you?” he commented as his lips barely caressed your forehead “… more troublesome than Denji and Power combined”.

You wanted to protest but in your dreams you never could. 

It seemed obvious that in your wildest fantasy you’d take whatever Aki would give you, because each time he wanted to give you everything and you were happy. 

Happy to accept all of him.

He settled you in bed as the line between dream and reality blurred and although you should have been worried, you weren’t. 

You enjoyed it because maybe this was the last time he’d be gentle with you, especially as of lately also dream! Aki could be cruel with you, being harsh and steady in the least heavy nightmares and hating and cruel in the worst ones.

“… please” you pleaded as your hands reached for his strong shoulders, before raising towards his hair, and exceptionally– due to the lack of coordination for the alcohol you had ingested -  you undid his ponytail, giggling when his hair fell right into his face “… stay”.

And although part of you didn’t want to impose, you never slept better than when his body matched against your own in your bed, your dress still on and your hair messy as much as your makeup. 

The waking up was awful, your eyes seemed pasted together and the pounding headache in your mind didn’t help with settling to the light in the room as you cursed yourself for not having closed the binds fully.

Still, you were startled awake at the sound of something being put down on your nightstand, so close after the silence of your room that you jumped up in bed, immediately cursing your movements as a cramp flexed through your brain and when you turned to look at the intruder, you found out it was just the man that you had drunkenly invited to stay, Aki.

«Water» he spoke the obvious at the clear glass right in front of your face «… drink it a Then we’ll talk».

And you were grateful as your throat was scratchy and your mouth pasted together grossly.

«Can I…» you flustered in the reality that you hadn’t only broken your resolve to avoid Aki, but also invited him to stay. In your bed from the smell that was intermingled with your own in the sheets «… go to the bathroom?».

Maybe it was the insane idea of locking yourself in there till Aki took the hint that you couldn’t see each other anymore or maybe it was the knowledge that facing him for the talk you were supposed to have with last night makeup and no brushed teeth would have been a huge regret.

In the end, you couldn’t avoid this forever and you weren’t denying only yourself the bitter taste of rejection but probably also withholding Aki’s own peace of mind. He deserved to scream at you, although his whole composure was impressive, keeping his usual neutral and calm attitude.

So, you didn’t lock yourself in bed and when you moved back in your room, you found Aki sat on your bed almost thoughtfully as he played with the hem of your blanket, almost nervously. You had switched from your work clothes into a comfortable homely assemble and yet when your neighbor’s eyes were set upon you, there was an intensity that had you feeling almost naked. Not a nice start to what was to be the hardest and most awkward discussion of your life.

«… I hope I didn’t take too much time and…».

«When you ran away, that day at the hospital, you acted like a coward» well, you couldn’t deny that although it felt far harsher than you deserved «… especially when you had been so brave but a few moments».

You startled, stopping just shy of the bed, as you slowly came to process the words while Aki’s eyes lowered again on the hem of the blanket.

Did he… did he found you… atrociously confessing to him after he had lost all his colleagues and his partner… courageous?

«… I… spurred it onto you» you blabbered, trying to somehow justify yourself as his words had been an accusation «… I shouldn’t have… it was… wrong of me… I…».

«The timing was shit» Aki admitted although not cruelly as his eyes set upon you «… but… I think that you conveyed well enough that you were worried not to see me. Ever again».

And somehow the words being uttered were enough to have you feel a bit choked as if your body remembered the shock of worrying about Aki not having made it.

«And... I appreciate that» he admitted genuinely, albeit shy to look at you – or in your direction, again – while you decided to carefully set on bed in the corner. Not too far neither too close. Not in front of him and neither on his side «… I appreciate that you could give me what I couldn’t, because you ran away».

«You make it seem almost as if it was my fau…» you stalled in your obvious protest as again the realization of Aki’s words was slow, stalled by the disbelief that he meant what was in the air «… I… I don’t think I understand…».

«I called you a coward when I started this discourse» he commented, again, not wishing to meet your eyes «… which is hypocritical considering I am one as well. Not able to tell you that I felt the same even when I was in the hospital bed».

You hadn’t believed – not even in a million year – that Aki would return your feelings as your body shifted in his direction.

«… I mean… it wasn’t my fault. You… ran away» that seemed a bit full of resentment and you couldn’t fully blame him, especially as you had avoided him for enough just to force him in your bed «… and then you avoided me. Put Power against me…».

«That was onto Power» you corrected him, something akin to the usual banter crackling between the two of you, before it dispersed in a happy laugh, and you almost couldn’t believe that you had avoided all of this just to be told that Aki liked you. Just as much as you did.

And yet, you couldn’t let your heart soar hopefully.

There was something in the way Aki kept his eyes on the ground that implied that he hadn’t finished with his discourse. That there was some obstacle to this confession.

«Either way, we… we both know now» and to both of you it should have been a relief, but no peace appeared on Aki’s creased features as you took a daunting step further and gently moved his face so that he’d come to look up at your own, your hands unable to smooth the light expression wrinkle across his forehead.

«We do» you breathed right in his face, truly glad for having had the chance to brush up your teeth when Aki’s eyes lowered to your lips and you couldn’t help but follow the sight, bringing the hand on his forehead to his cheek and guiding him gently closer.

«I… no… I…» he detached and if you had thought that the rejection was to be avoided for the rest of the day, you had been wrong. Strangely, it didn’t weight onto you as much, probably as you had gotten used to the rejection although the sudden change in attitude had you curious «… you’d think me a bastard if I… kiss you».

«Why?» you questioned him breathily, as if you were to keep your tones low although there was no one but you. 

Your hand gently threaded with his shirt, descending gently as you felt his heartbeat, a comforting sound.

«… don’t tell me that you are one of those gentlemen who needs at least a few dates and then…».

«I have only two years to live».

Now his tone was loud, although you didn’t know if it was his tone or his words, as they echoed throughout the room.

Before you could even process them, he spoke again.

«The… Curse Devil… I… two years is all I have» he reinstated breaking your heart again «… and… I can’t… I can’t force you to spend that time with me with the knowledge of me having a deadline».

His eyes on his sides tightened in fists, as you felt through your hand his heartbeat sped up.

«… that’s why I can’t kiss you» suddenly the gentleness that had graced him was gone «… I have come to tell you how I felt, because I owed it to you, but… no relationship can blossom from this relationship».

So cruel and detached that it almost felt like he was talking with an underling and not to the person he had feelings for, although you caught into his bluff soon; he had meant for you to get angry with him, maybe even to hate him so that you’d let him go.

«Do tell me, though, Aki» you lingered still, as your hand moved from his chest to his shoulder to straighten his posture so that he’d look at you «… who’d you be doing a favor to? Me… or you?».

Aki’s mouth opened in startlement certainly not expecting your calm tone.

«… because let me tell you» your eyes met his own with a refund determination «… because I am a big girl. I can handle myself and my heart. Even though you have a two-year lifespan».

And you smiled, genuinely as you spoke the truth: two years with Aki seemed far better than no time at all. No relationship at all.

«I… you can’t not want to try» you reiterated softly «… if it’s like you told me…».

«It is» he almost seemed offended that you’d question his words. The truthfulness of his feelings «… you don’t… you don’t understand… I can’t… I can’t hang onto you like a burden…».

«You won’t» you tried to promise him as your hand reached for his hand «… I… Aki, you could never be a burden».

«Not even when my death sentence will come?».

There was something deeper, you could feel it from the way his whole body seemed tense.

He knew something further on his death and didn’t want to share.

«… it won’t… it won’t drive you crazy to think about the countdown? To regret the time that we could have any further?».

And he saw right through you as you hesitated for a moment, because although you didn’t think Aki a burden, you couldn’t even fathom the thought of having him for such little time just to lose him. It’d have destroyed you and although you’d have chosen that pain over letting him go, he knew better. 

He had chosen for the two of you.

«I can’t» he trembled as you clutched him tight to you «… I can’t condemn you. I can’t bring you down with me, not when I am cur…».

«Don’t».

Maybe if you didn’t let him speak, you’d have been able to convince yourself and him that everything was alright although you knew better. 

As he moved gently from the hug all too soon and you realized that he had come to ready you for the moment. 

For the moment when you’d have lost him.

«… I am sorry».

«I…» what do you say to your great love, when you saw him readying himself for the martyr «… can I make you one request before… before you leave me?».

As that’d be the inevitable outcome of this and Aki nodded somberly, turning to you.

«Don’t… don’t be a gentleman for just five minutes» because you couldn’t let him die with the regret of a kiss never having happened between the two of you, although it was selfish «… don’t… don’t worry about me, first. I’ll be… I’ll be fine, Aki».

«You have to promise me that you’ll be» he insisted gently pushing a few strands of hair behind your ears «… you… find somebody… and you are happy. You write to your heart content…».

You nodded gently, as you knocked your forehead against his own.

«… maybe I’ll write about you, Hayakawa Aki» it felt like a vague threat and a promise and Aki laughed softly, right before his lips were upon your own, in a gentle kiss.

«This way you won’t forget about me, sweetheart».

“It’d be over soon” your manager told you as you scoffed for the umpteenth time.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your fans – as they always said: they were the reason why you got to quit your dead end job and write for a living – and neither you didn’t enjoy interviews with them, but the huge number of members in the audience and the bigshot name who’d have interviewed you definitely made you far more nervous than you’d have normally been.

Clammy hands, absence of saliva and tummy cramps.

The usual.

«… and I am glad to announce that today with me the author of the most recent bestseller – and choice for our book group – will be with me answering some fan questions».

And that was your cue to move in awkwardly in the dress you had been given by the production, adjusting coveted the microphone stuck to the back so that it wouldn’t bother you too much when you sat down.

You waved to the public with embarrassment written all over your face, risking of missing the first few words of the interviewer as she reminded graciously the audience that the questions she’d ask had been sent from the fans.

«… and they were a lot!» she praised you gently putting you at immediate ease as you sunk yourself further in the comfortable sofa, praying to God that nobody had been too harsh as criticism sill scared you «… we actually had to choose the most interesting ones… such as this one… oh… do you happen to have a pet as the main character?».

Most of the questions were as light-hearted as the first one and the interview seemed far more comfortable as you gained confidence enough to even joke around softly, when prompted. Still, with a lowered guard came the final question:

«Well, we kept the best for last…» and your immediately felt the sweat on your brow «… you did mention in an original article when the book first came out that in part the love story in it is based on a personal experience. Still, you did change it, in a ‘what if’ experience of what could have been».

You felt yourself grow suddenly paler as you realized that all the confidence and comfortableness gained didn’t amount to anything when faced with a question that you dreaded to answer, especially as you regretted having revealed so much about your personal life on the giddiness of being published.

«I…» your voice choked as you thought of speaking about Aki, the Devil Hunter that had stolen your heart. 

After his confession, you hadn’t lasted much in the apartment pained at the thought of being so close and yet unable to have him. You had moved with one last letter to him, Denji and Power, explaining your reasons and wishing them all the best.

Then you hadn’t received any news, just discovering of Aki’s death a few days before you were hit with the inspiration, finally writing down the book you had always wanted and realizing only once it was finished that it was about you and him, if things had been different.

«… yes, I… it is based on my own real life» the interviewer sought out your gaze and you could only guess it was because your tone sounded choked «… I was in a… relationship… and… time was against us, as I… show in the book, but… I never got to live it. Hence the book is a … testimony to it. A way… not to forget and imagine what could be».

You didn’t know if others would have thought your tears were simply a marketing move, but you found yourself not caring truly; if they wanted to know the truth behind the story in the book you’d have given it to them, raw and ruthlessly.

And you were glad for it, after all, as in your own way you got to keep Aki close to you, somehow.

Never forgotten.

[starrbright]

GREED AND EVERYTHING BETWEEN

CSM DENJI, POWER, AKI x Chubby Reader

These devil hunters know a thing or two about greed, sure, but the thin line between the difference of a hungry devil and them; a devil hunter, when they met you—it fades easily

AFAB READER. 18+ characters. use of pet names, slight depiction of blood and violence. JEALOUSY ( the title is literally greed 🚶🏽‍♀️) ORAL FIXATION ( FINGER SUCKING, cunnilingus ) DRY HUMPING. thigh riding. blood drinking. vaginal sex. stalking. obsession. power imbalance. power play?

There's fluff here, I SWEAR

9k words. i couldn't help it. I only made this in one post to less the hassle and all that, so I'm sorry if this post is so long that it might annoy you 😭. I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless 💕

I honestly didn't expect this shit to be dark but as I wrote, that's what happened, my hands slipped )) : and this is my first time writing and uploading a work, with nsfw cuts, no less, so i hope i don't disappoint! Criticisms are welcome but please be nice )):

Also, I decided to upload this part now as I figure the next one will take a bit of time and I honestly wanted to upload this now.

Tell me which one is your favorite! HIMENO. YOSHIDA. KOBENI

Denji:

slight depiction of blood and violence. blood drinking. mild nsfw. 2.7k words. oops?

Denji thought he had it all when he got took in by the division. He ate well, slept well, took his time whenever showering, sometimes even got his own money to buy what he wants to eat. He had it all. Well, that is until you came.

A new devil hunter, even same age as him. And what do you know? You got placed in Aki's and Himeno's group!

Denji thought you were odd, different from the rest, not in a bad way is what he was thinking, no, actually as he stared at you, the longer he did, something began to churn in him; curiosity. You see, Denji as young and naive as he is, he thinks this was the first time he had his eyes set on a figure like you had. Thighs and legs that looks like wants to pop out of your thin black pants, shoulders so thick, chest and stomach well round that it makes him think how hard it is for you breathe, but his......concern for you suddenly went away as you waved and smiled at him.

My! You smiled at him so sweet that your eyes crinkled, he doesn't remember if he had seen such smile, let alone directed to him! He realized that he might have been caught staring at you, that's why you did that but even so, you just smiled at him and let out a little laugh that it flustered him! The poor boy! )): He was left so clueless!

So as the days passed by and you following along their group. Denji just grew more curious. By no means, him and Power always piss Aki off with their loud voices and by just being them. But you? Even when your laugh is loud sometimes ( not that Denji is complaining ) and you just being loud when joking around with Himeno or teasing Kobeni, you don't seem to piss off Aki. Frankly, you don't seem to piss off anyone, you always just have this bubbly yet soothing aura around you. And it got Denji looking, more curious and curious everyday.

Ass always on display from your pants that always fitted you so well. Maybe that's why he always find himself walking behind the group these days. But can you blame him! )): And even when you're in pursuit, taking off your coat in the middle of fight just as you preferred it--Denji dares to lose focus at his task and steals a glance at you, he can't help it! Thin white shirt that your chest and stomach strain against it, fuck, he might have as well thrown himself at his enemies as he noticed your bra faintly showing. Sudden violence of urge to just grope your breasts, doesn't matter how big or small they were, all that matters was is how so sure he was that they're fucking soft and he wants to grope them. The hits he got from his enemies was worth it to have focused on the ripples of your body when you move.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was fucking worth it because it got you running to him, asking him if he was okay, your hands reaching out to him. To him, holy shit. The hits he took must have taken damage real bad because nothing was running in his brain when you kept holding him. Something must be really wrong with him because it got him thinking that he should get hurt more so that this could happen more.

Denji thought he had it all, he really did, until he suddenly didn't. Not when he was always seeing your smile, you smiling at him, time to time asking him if he was okay, asking him how he is, and telling him to be always careful. He thought he had it all, but not when he sees you smiling so sweetly at others, too and he swore that the urge he always have when killing devil's came up when he saw them eyeing you no differently from how a predator would hunt its prey. Others could have sworn they heard a growl, and even almost the sound of chainsaw blaring.

It was only then one night when he concluded that he didn't have it all, after all. And only then he felt how fucking hungry he was. And only then he made his mind to do something about it. Oh, he doesn't fucking know what he'll do but he will do something about it. It was that or pulling the string on his chest and went for those who dared look at you twice.

Because it was sickening to him! How you're just friendly, sometimes clinging to his arm, feeling your softness against him, you speaking to him, to him! With such joy in your voice! And even leaning to his shoulder! ( Was he fucking glad that he gets to shower however and whenever he wants to ) His brain is just going haywire and all the things he was listening about from you was just gone. It was sickening!

So that's how he found himself stealing you away from others, literally. Pulling you in an empty room and you're worried for him. "Denji?" You asked, there's your concerned voice again, pulling him out of his head and was met with your tilted head, worried eyes and fuck, your lips. He wonders how lipstick and whatever the fuck is making your lip shine, tastes like.

"Denji? Are you okay?" You asked again but he just stares at you. And how could you walk closer to him, making this worse than it already is!

You call his name again but this time putting your arms around him, hugging him. Fuck. This was not his plan at all. He just stiffly stood there but he can feel you sigh and smile against him. That's it. He's literally gone, but the touch of your hands against his, bringing them around you, he followed, pulling you closer and you giggled, nuzzling your face to his neck, shuddering him. Oh, this poor boy was lost! Putty in your hands and then you spoke of something that truly broke him. "Can I kiss you?" You asked in such a quiet voice, yet somehow he felt that there was demand to it. He could only nod his head once as your face inched closer to his. He closed his eyes as he felt your lips. Berries is what he was reminded of by your taste. It was you at the beginning who had command, snaking your hand to his jaw, leading him to make the kiss hungrier.

A kiss that started so slow, tastes of each other lingering, turned into sloppier and messier kiss, waking Denji that this was really fucking happening. Just a few seconds ago, he was only standing there at lost as you hugged him but now his hands were all over you, hands just squeezing on every part of you, making you let out sounds that he should only hear.

Tiring from his excited and starved state, you pulled away from him, putting a thumb on his soaked lips to catch your breath but it looked like he wanted more and he does! )): Even when he was panting, his pupils were blown out and still leaning in, arms locking you tighter to him, a wonder to you how he was able to keep up with his muscles that were sure aching from keeping you in place--because of your body compared to his. Oh, Denji couldn't care fucking less about that, actually, that was one of the least things on the back of his mind now that he's got you.

"Aren't you a hungry boy?" You spoke, tease in your voice, fingers trailing his face. Denji said nothing but hummed, blown eyes turning hazy and nuzzle his face to your hand, making you smile. Happy that he finally done something. "Took you a while, huh?" Well, the boy hasn't been so subtle about he was feeling, unlike you, however. You figured that's why he was so pent up just now with kissing you. "I like you, silly." Laughing as you said it, waking him up again from his daze.

He looked at you with wide eyes that never failed to amuse you. He sees that you're waiting for an answer, then he was flustered again. Unable to believe to hear those words, those words that hold such meaning and from you, nonetheless! With voice and eyes so genuine, he never thought he'd see the day something like this would happen to him. He truly didn't have it all.

Until you. "I like you, too." He mumbled against your neck, hiding in your softness. Hearing your soft laugh as you caressed his hair--he had it all.

But that doesn't mean his hunger had finally gone down, in fact, Denji feels it grew more and how couldn't it when he had you now! Every time you smiled at him, talk to him about literally anything with the same amount of excitement, listen to him with so much glint in your eyes, hugged him, kissed him, he grew more hungrier.

And even when it's been known already in the division that you two were together, it didn't stop those others ( fucking assholes is what Denji calls them ) to not look your way with want behind their eyes. Did it make him fucking angry. But to steal you right then and there, kissing you in front of anyone who can see, you always have no choice but to follow him as his lips assaulted yours, always pulling away before it can cause a scene that it already has and your surprised face after, flustered rather, it never gets old.

And don't get Denji wrong. He likes Aki, he cares for him, sure, but to see you there cooking with him, you wearing an apron, a sundress beneath it, looking so lovely. After you decided to surprise him is what you said when you arrived at their apartment. Well, it didn't feel like that anymore, not when you were talking so cozily with Aki, laughing with him as you cooked together, it fucking pissed him off. Sad that he never got the chance to learn how to cook and it angered him that he was sad. He should be the one cooking with you!)) : So maybe he could have the chance of hugging you while you work, maybe time to time, squeeze, pinch your fat wherever on your body, to hear your gasps and steal a kiss from you!

So he did the only rational thing he had in his mind. He walked to both of you and Aki, interrupting you speaking as you felt hands snaked around you from behind but not surprising you as you knew it was him. Opening your mouth to continue what you were saying and being muffled by another pair of lips is what surprised you! Denji run his tongue inside you, not wasting a second, and you had to fight yourself from letting out a moan as you knew someone other than you both was present.

Finding an opening to call out to him, "Denji!" he just continued to peck your lips and rubbed his hands on your hips. Only uttering out a huff once he finished, laying his head on your shoulder. Smug as shit that he can feel yout heart beat so fast against him and with Aki muttering of something that he doesn't give a fuck about at the moment.

Aki honestly needs to be paid more for the stuff that he witnesses because of Denji.

But what do you do when you're finally alone now? You punish him!)) : Saying that it's gone too far )): Telling him off that no kisses or even hugs for a few days, how could you let your sweet boy suffer like that!)) :

But of course, being the obedient boy that he is in your hands, he follows! )): But little do you know that it made him rebel more, even hours of no kiss or even touch from you, let alone be close to him! It made him mad, throat drying by the second.

So can you blame him when he can't hold back anymore? Can you blame him when he comes sneaking in your apartment in the late of the night, with you just done pampering yourself and headed off to bed. Can you blame him when he covers your mouth, pinning your hands together above your head. Your eyes widening, shocked that you didn't hear or felt anything that he was within your premises. But there was so much red in his eyes that you understood why he is the way he is. Can you blame him?

This was your fault! Letting your poor boy suffer! )):

"Denji," You called to him as he freed your mouth and hands. He just hums, falling his face onto your neck, the sweetness of your scent engulfing him. Had you forgotten that he's a fiend? Even though his sense of smell is not that strong. Even with only the faintness of your used scents, your own overpowering, he loved it and he did because it was yours, it was you. So can you imagine him holding back whenever he has the urge to bite you, to taste all of you?

Denji caressed your face and with his continued inhaling from your skin and nuzzling against it, you had a feeling of what he wanted to do. "Denji, no biting." You said, bringing his face to meet yours and the command in your voice and eyes made him whimper the smallest sound. You broke him!

His pout so evident and he looked so disheartened that it breaks you. )): So what do you do? Of course, you let him! "Not too much, okay?" Denji nods eagerly, his blonde hair bouncing and immediately falls back to you. He straddled your hips, arms pinned by him, keeping you in place. With the position, you can feel his hard on but still, he took his time kissing and sucking on your neck and chest, leaving you already a mess beneath him, riling him up more as well.

And there it is. He sank his fanged teeth in your neck just after leaving a mark that everyone was sure to see, a shattered gasp coming out from you as you felt the sharp pain, your arms flinching but Denji just held you down firmer. Both of you moaning together when he finally sucked your blood. How cruel of you! This is what you had been keeping from him!)): The taste of you had his eyes rolling.

Wanting to feel anything besides the pain however pleasing it was still, you looked for more, so you grinded your hips against his. The sound you both let out was heavenly to each other. You can feel your own blood dripping down on you and you knew that wasn't the only thing coming out from you as you continued to grind yourself against him. Denji meeting your pace, both chasing the burning high. His thirst growing more as he continued to drink your blood and drive himself onto your clothed cunt. He knew that the straining of his teeth against your flesh while you were humping against each other was painful, but he couldn't stop now! )): And you can't blame him! Something so good and painful in sync, how can you stop this? You don't know and you don't want to know as with both of your pace was turning fast and needier, running after that blissful end, bodies flinching and twitching, grinding still so hard against each other as you both came, moans so long and loud. Your shuddered and broken breaths while Denji softly kisses where he bit you, easing the pain, but smugness so much in him as he eyes his work, excited for everyone to see. But he's not done yet!

Denji really had it all. Well, he found it by your screaming as he managed to thank fuck, successfully--fuck you. Addicting was hearing you let out a sound every time he pounded himself to you, addicting was looking at your body jiggle every time. Makes him want to taste you again, so he does! He found it by the taste of all of you. And then he found it the morning after as you cooked breakfast together. Well, maybe it was only you who did but only for now. Because as long as he had you, he'll always find it all.

Aki:

stalking. obsession. finger sucking. vaginal sex. 3.8k words. uhhh enjoy.

It started off as nothing, to little and to where he is now; outside, across the bakeshop where you are, that is. Clear view of you enjoying your cake and bubble tea.....alone and that makes him....pleased. It almost seems like you two were together! Surely you were thinking that!

Aki still remembers when you both met. It was because you literally ran into each other, well, it was you rather. Your hands full with stacks of boxes of pastries and your yell that you made when you stumbled to him, thankfully, he was there to keep you steady and your pastries! How kind of him! )):

You're laughing, rambling about how your team was probably starving because of how late you were, on the while saying your a few weeks new in the division and wanted to do something for your team and for others as well. Then you offered him some of the pastries you have because how couldn't you? You were so preoccupied in your own head that you bothered him because you just had to be clumsy! And all he did was kept you from hurting yourself and wasting food, said nothing to offend you or even looked at you wrong, wasn't he so sweet?

So how couldn't Aki's eyes roam in the hallways then, certainly not because he was looking for a rushing click of heels and laugh that echoes. How couldn't he do that when you offered him that treat with your smile he was so sure that was sweeter than was what on his hands. And thankfully, he got to see you again! In the same place you met, no less! How odd was that? But you didn't need to know that he had done his way to know the exact time where you'll go to where you'll be. Aki just wanted to see you again!

And was he disappointed when he did? Of course not! Not when he heard you speak in the same tone that you had back then, gushing of joy and my! You even said his name! You know him! That must be saying something, no? His name flowing out from you so sweetly, he can't help his thoughts--flashing with visions of you chanting it, crying out from pleasure because of him. How could you! )): But you didn't need to introduce yourself to him, apologizing because you forgot before, you didn't need to because he's got a copy of your file, silly!

Reading it like it was a love letter, eager to know more of you but sadly and expectedly, all he got was basic informations. Of course, that wouldn't be a problem. He had all the time in the world to get to know you! And Aki let himself freely imagine you beneath him, apologizing for disobeying him, how couldn't he when you said you were sorry with a laughing voice that wasn't faltering, it makes him want to break it! )): It wasn't like him at all.

To follow so eagerly for someone, following you until you got home to your apartment, it wasn't in him but he just wanted to make sure you were safe! Yes, that was it! Aki just wanted you to be safe! And you are! Alone again, that is. No one to threaten Aki you.

And just when he was about to leave, you began to take your clothes off, how could he forget that? If he thought drinking you up whenever he got the chance to look at you freely inside the buildings of the division, was enough already--oh, how wrong he was! )): Coming out from your bathroom just freshed up in a dark negligee, it wasn't even with shorts, but just a short dress that's only until your mid thighs. Fabric so thin and silky, no difference from how soft you looked. Shoulders round just as your chest and stomach were. The low cut on your chest, showing out your breasts more as you applied lotion all over you. The little opening to the window gave him a whiff of your scent and that alone could make his eyes closed from bliss for a short moment. And of course! You weren't wearing a bra )): He can't blame you! Having to put up with wearing them all day and while fighting, nonetheless. He's just glad for you to be comfortable! More so he can enjoy such a sight. And......you can't possibly be not wearing.....not wearing a panty underneath as well, no? The thought just makes him snap his cigarette, oh how could you! )): The poor guy couldn't take it so he left and he thought it was for the best because he wanted to get to know you first, of course! Isn't he such a good guy? )):

So there he was, outside across the bakeshop where you are. That shop is where you always go, where you sometimes bought the pastries you give for your team and these days, even to him! He couldn't ignore that now, could he?

You were ecstatic, Aki concludes only days of knowing you, so different from everyone in the line of your work. Heels always heavy from the rush of your walking, honestly, someone like you should be annoying to him, but no. If anything, he's found to like your antics, your chirpy movements or voice that will go up whenever you talk to him, or to anyone.....unfortunately for him. But nevertheless, he liked watching you. Even when others were watching as well......Maybe one day, he'll do something about it.

But for now, he walks to cross the street, fully knowing you'll see him and he doesn't doubt that you'll call out to him and invite him over to where you are. That's exactly what happens. You're already holding his hand to pull him in because he said he didn't want to impose on you but you just shushed him and now you're both sitting across from each other, hands still intact that he notices there's some of powdered sugar on your knuckles as he eyes your hands together, that is until you took it back, leaving his own cold. You're looking at the menu to get something for him.

Aki could just stare at you while you were so focused, taking it as a chance to get a good look at you. Your attire was colored light this time, cotton shirt that was still thin enough to stretch around you, high wasted short that showed your belly rolls and fitting your thighs well, the fat spilling on the high chair that's why it gave him access for him to check you out. Aki doubts that everything was sweeter than you in the bakeshop. He's not that keen on eating much sweets, too, but he does anyway because you offered it.

And it was fucking worth it, because now you're feeding him your cake with the fork you've been using, he lets the metal slide out of his mouth slowly, as if to savor the faintest taste of you, rather than the food itself. Somehow, he's suddenly hungry for more.

Your giggle pulls him out of his trance, breath hitching as your hand reached out to his face, thumb grazing on his lower lip--to take off the cream on it, he feels. And how cruel you were! You just had to put your said finger in your mouth while you stared at each other! )): "Do you want more?" You asked giddily, as his eyes stayed on your thumb that was thinly coated with your saliva.

Oh, he fucking wants more and he'll have it.

Sundown was coming and you both were still there, talking so long like never before, your plates and cups already emptied an hour ago. What luck you both had, the encounter gave you the chance to get to know each other, what luck Aki had--because now it just gave you more reason to be close to him and he wouldn't have a problem anymore of you doubting him. He wouldn't have to worry about you liking him. Because he can already feel it as he walks you to your home.

You're stealing glances at him, your fingers gripping your little handbag so tight, little breaths you take from your mouth. That was new. You're no longer your usual buoyant self but what he sees is you being hesitant, quiet--shy. He really wants more. So Aki did you a favor as you guys stopped in front of your apartment. He asked you casually if you wanted to go back again in the bakeshop with him and how your eyes lit up, gave you away, so much. If anything after all, it was him who did a favor for himself because he got to see how eager and happy you looked as he asked it, trying to catch your composure while you answered but nothing could have taken back your enlightment, really. It was already engraved in his mind.

It's all he think about up until he's gone to sleep and what met him when he saw you again. A grin that it looks like you're holding back to keep it from getting wider as you walked closer to him, itching to move how you normally do, especially when you're excited--you're keeping it in, hiding it but he sees through it. He really has watched you, better than everyone who dared to. That alone so much makes him believe that no one should have you other than him. Wouldn't you believe so?

Aki is restless after the day, after all the work he was given, after trying his best to not get his suit stained because he promised it that it will be today he'll treat you to the bakeshop, and that he was--pristine as ever, one wouldn't think he fought three devils just that afternoon as he walked in the shop with you. But of course, his tiredness imeddiately leaving just as he sees you. Clothes untainted. Because of course, this was a date, right? Even with the usual work clothes, you wanted to be presentable, be pretty for him.

And you are, you always are to him. Frankly, he wouldn't care if anything was stained on your white shirt or the black attire, he wouldn't blame you, still think you're so good in his eyes. Ask him to clean it for you and he will-

There you both are again across from each other. He may or may have not ordered slices of cake in just one plate for you both to share, and he didn't miss the interest in your eyes when he requested that. He's such an attentive one! )):

You're feeding him again, said that you have to try it because it's so good and it was his treat after all. Oh, he knows it's good, the little hum you make each time you took a bite and licking of your lips was hard to miss. But he knows it rather tasted better because it had little taste of you again, making sure your eyes were locked onto each other as you put your fork in his mouth, his gaze so warm that it makes you squirm in your chair as you slid off the metal out from him, making sure to lick his lips after and say that it is good. Smirking to himself as your movements stuttered, almost in a daze. He can't get enough. Maybe he does likes to devour sweets.

And that's what he does after walking you home. Pulling you to him just as about you were to walk away, chubby face in his one hand that he held firm to catch your lips, a small squeal coming out of you when your lips met his. Aki's arm roaming around your waist, squeezing on the while to lock you to him, his mouth opening so big that you can barely breathe as he drive his tongue in you, barely keeping up to meet his tongue. He can't help but groan at both of your tastes mixing with each other, the sound he let out was so weakening to you that made you moan, let alone his other hand squeezing your breasts. Even when his hunger couldn't be sated at the moment, he needed to look at you. He pulls away but not before he got your tongue and sucked on it, leaving you a whimpering and flinching mess, strings of saliva from your lips still connected to each other, your eyes are so hazy, lipstick smudged, your lips trembling, you were trembling against him, panting from your mouth and you're beating against him. My, just what Aki has done! )): And what he have in his hands....you were something to devour so godly. He'd have you right then and there but seeing you like that made him change his mind. Patience would be the key as he strokes your face and you sigh, eyes closing with a little smile on your lips, lips that was still dripping with his own saliva, lipstick that were ruined because of him.

And what a good thing you are! Following his words to rest now, saying that you'll see each other the next day again, but of course he had to kiss you again. So sweetly this time, his tongue going so slow to roam in you, gentle how he met your lips. A complete, utter whiplash to the first kiss you had. He knew what he was doing! Riling you up so good and confusing, no less but sure to made you look for more. Because that will just leave things for you both to be even more greater.

How right he was. Each glance you shared, he knew it made you already pleased, the glint in your eyes he can clearly see even from far away, biting your lip to stop your smile, your comfortable squirming when you're within his presence. He knew every day, hour that passed by, he had you in his hands. He doesn't doubt it.

But as much he was amused with keeping your relationship hidden away from prying eyes, the rush from it, fleeting minutes, seconds of affection whenever you both get the chance to; his hand always pulling you to him to kiss you, leaving you breathless every time no matter how short it was. You running to him to kiss his cheek and his hand lingering to your arm to slow you down from walking away. Sometimes your free time aligns and it gives him the chance to pull you away into a room, to embrace you and of course, to kiss you, to kiss you and just to kiss you until you're both tired, heaving for breaths but still wanting for more. The end is always--your legs quite wobbly from all that you did, needing to redo your lipstick, and him fixing his tie, straightening his suit but still walking like nothing happened, like he wasn't burning with smug and his pants so tight to him that was burning as well.)) :

As much as he was amused by it all, he still saw the other eyes looking at you, a threat to him. Always eyeing you and even have the guts to flirt with you, but you were still kind enough to just pass it by. Letting the flattery words that was always laced with something behind it to just go through you and even thanking them sometimes. He doesn't blame you, you were just like that, one of the many reasons why he wanted, needed to have you.

But them, he can't do. They are a problem but because the kind man he is in your eyes, what he only does is finally made his statement, right in front of everyone to see. Striding over to you with so much vigor but still smooth as he is, swooping you in his arms to have your lips on him, relishing in the gasp you let out before he crashed his mouth to yours, less so by the others that were present among you. And he won that moan out from you, from trying to fight it, he got it by after countless times of ravaging your mouth, well familiar of what made you lose it. You're trying your best to stop his other arm to roam around you because you know it will just get worse and you feel him grin against your lips.

Just what had you done to him? Breaking him out of his self just so others couldn't bother him anymore, but it was for the best anyway, so that they know you're his and his alone.

So say goodbye to those fleeting moments because he's found the high in terrorizing others with both your neediness, maybe just his, rather. ((:

You're doing your usual routine of giving pastries to your team? Changed. He's either going with you or suddenly pops out of nowhere beside you, his arm always around you. A smirk that he bites off when they see their lingering stares on his hold on you.

You won't be able to kiss his cheek anymore because it always lead him to hold your face to kiss him and he's smothering you there.

Aki wouldn't be the one to think of when doing those things, sure but he can't help it, he thinks you're pushing him to the edge, he really does but he can't blame you and he won't!

And to the edge is where he found himself. Having enough of keeping out the fire for so long, of both of you keeping on your toes--there you both are now. In your bedroom, lying down naked, just stripped out of your clothes as Aki stared down at you. Still in his work clothes, only out of his black coat, his tie hanging loosely and hair out of its tie, left handsomely disheveled.

Aki had done nothing yet but just kissed you, ripping your clothes from you on the while, your paired underwear only what's left of you as he hoisted you up to bring you to your room, muscles on his arms clenching yet relishing your heavy but soft weight, nonetheless. Lips not parting from each other, you pulled the tie out from his hair and gripped them, making him groan in your mouth and that made you clench around him; legs tightening on him, your core so tight against his abdomen, flinching as you both felt that pressure so good.

Your legs trembling as he put you down standing just at the edge of your bed, towering over you while he put a hand on your chin, his thumb grazing your wet and ruined lips, your eyes looking at him so desperately, and that made it all the better. As he took his sweet time taking off what was left on you, cupping your one breast after, the hand that was still on your mouth had his thumb in you for you to suck on it as he commanded you to take off your panty. With your legs weak as ever, you did as Aki adds another finger in you while you continued to suck on them, whining as his other hand went down to cup your dripping mound, driving it to put force against it that it made you buck your hips to meet his movement.

Not even a finger in your cunt and yet you're already a mess! )):  Your hands gripping so hard on his clothes, crippling its neatness, eyes up so glossy to him, mouth filled with his digits and your drool. It had Aki throbbing so much but he still had patience, how couldn't he when you had the same? So just fucking needy for him and yet you're still so good for him, obedient as you let him lead you on so slowly, relishing that slow but fleeting pleasure he offers. )):

His starving mouth met yours, pushing you on the bed gently and left to nothing again as he stood back up, taking off his coat and he took you in, his chest heaving. All that building up was so worth it, that pent up heat in him paid off as he stared at you; a sweet fucking five star treat, begging to be devoured.

That's what he did, late of the night until almost morning came. Your mind just mindless, filled only nothing but pleasure from all the pain and elation he gave, that you both made.

His teeth rotting because of you, licking and sucking you up like his tongue hadn't tire out already just from kissing you, that damn pink muscle moving against and in your cunt so strong, his fingers digging deep in your thighs to keep you still but you just can't help to twitch every time he moved in you. Though, he even encouraged you to grind against his face, hands forcing on your thighs for you to move on him and you did, pulling his hair while you ride his face and his continued slurping and sucking. After finding your release with you shaking with a yell so loud, muscles pulled so tight, even when you gave out already, he wouldn't just have that, of course!! ((:

Aki needed to see you while putting his cock inside you. )):  Wanted to see your tummy rolled up as he gently with force still, hold your thighs up, wanted to see your eyes roll as he slowly went in, wanted to feel you trembling. See just how beautiful you looked, dried tears on your cheeks while still having fresh ones build up in your eyes, drool falling on your chin, your cum smothered beneath you. Wanted to tease you that you're disobeying him by not keeping still, that your eyes won't focus on him. And of course you're sorry! )): Uttering a babbles of sorry as his hand came up to your face, wanted to see how well you'll keep it in as he teased you by rutting his hips against you, apologies disrupted by crying out his name.

How he heard it so real was nothing compared to his mind. Chanting and chanting it all over again as he finally ram into you. He's hissing every time he drove in, you can't help but clench your ass and cunt each time he did. Your walls filled with nothing but the sound of your cries and his own sounds along with your bodies. Even when you found both of your end, still high and riding that bliss, still inside you, moving still against each other to keep that heat, that pressure that kept you flinching--he went to you, fluttered kisses to your lips to cheeks and to your ears, his quiet but demanding whisper that just kept you on your high. "I think you can give me one more."

It didn't end with just one more.

Power:

dom!reader. power play. get it? power play? IM KIDDINGKSDSJFS im serious 😐. blood drinking. dry humping. thigh riding. 2.9 k words.

Blood curling is what you are, what she feels when she sees you, smell you, feel you. Blood curling.

You're not any different from them, humans, they were all the same--you were all the same. But what Power goes through because of you, it's different. It has her chin going up high to savor that scent, nose scrunching and mouth twitching, even more worse when she sees you, mouth going dry. Gulping deeply just to quench her thirst.

You're not any different, so she wonders why this is different.

Maybe it's because when she first saw you, she was taken aback, from your appearance and even more so by your demeanor. You had a kind face but your eyes said otherwise as you found her own; defeaning. She felt it. If she knew less, she would have thought you were a devil.

Mouth threatened to babble once your scent hits her nose but immediately kept shut as she saw you. Just like that it was different.

Maybe it's because she's insatiable. She is a fiend after all; that would explain why her hunger grows as you walk by. Thighs so full that it jiggled each step you made, your belly hang low, tucked in so prettily in your slacks, chest that looks so plush, shoulders round and fat. Your neck, so little of your neck showing because of your one button left opened. All that she sees made her teeth ache, itching to have something to bite onto. But she was kept in her place. So she still wonders why. )):

But luckily for her, she might get her answer now. Because you're in front of her, not to Aki or Himeno, but right in front of her. Suffocating her, tantalizing so. She's not well familiar with tones but yours, she heard, at least easily anyway. "Ah, I finally get to meet the two infamous recruits." Your voice was teasing, it even had Denji looking, quiet as well, not lapping up as he usually does so when in present in someone unlike him but literally quiet. The both fiend are. It had Himeno laughing and even Aki breaking out a smirk.

"Denji.....and Power." You hang your head out to them in a tilted way, a grin showing as your eyes went to hers. Threatening is what Power would describe it, how you're so tantalizing that it was threatening. And you're now walking away like you didn't had two fiends in the process of being wrapped in your fingers, like you didn't had Power breathing heavily, drool easily falling out as she watched your behind strut so hypnotizing.

She's close to finding why.

Yes, she was onto it, to you rather. Because how couldn't she? You were so hard to miss, your scent lingering that she can taste it, trying her best to let it stay on her tongue. Waking up in the morning so thirsty, somehow she's already waking up Aki for them to get to work early and of course, you're there already.

And there she stays as you linger by the railings, the footsteps of her team going faint but Power only stood still, staring at you. You smirked, hanging your head low to the side, meeting her gaze. "Can I help you?" She didn't answer, she couldn't, nothing running in her mind but only your taste wafting directly to her senses. Then you walked to her, "Something got your tongue, kitten?" you asked, lips still curled upwards and you're looking down at her.

Her stillness gave you access to hold her chin, a quiet and broken gasp out of her as she felt your fingers so close to her mouth. Wide eyes looking at your calm ones, her pupils blowing as you put your thumb in her, mouth opened still but she can already taste so much of you. If that much has had her pulse going crazy, what you did next was something you shouldn't have. Your mouth opening a little as you felt the pain when you stuck down your thumb in her tooth. The sharpness made it so easy to prick your flesh, blood flowing out that made nothing else mattered. Power held onto your wrist tightly and closed her mouth on your finger, eyes going shut while she sucked on it, the pressure changing because of how fast and hard she was sucking. But you're only there, unfazed. Your other free hand working up to her face, to her hair, and up to the little horns she had, petting the fiend in your hands, literally.

Your mind beginning to get a little woozy as she continued to drink, you parted her lips with your other hand, interrupting her bliss. She opened her eyes, pupils still blown, crazed eyes looked up to you. Slowly, you pulled up your tainted thumb from her tooth, both of you letting out a sound as you did, blood still dropping and Power couldn't let it go to waste, licking and gulping what she can have. She was panting, her tongue laid out, copper is what you smell from it but so much different from Power is what she smelled. You knew she wanted more, how she was still clanging onto your wrist, her eyes never leaving yours, feeling her twitch against you, her pulse fast as yours, even her horns grew but all you did was trace her lips with your bitten thumb, her drool and your blood smearing on her. "How adorable." You uttered as she closed her eyes while you grazed her horns. Tamed was her beneath you and you knew she'd be looking for more.

That she does, even just after you left her there like nothing happened again, like you didn't know she would have done anything to have you again, walking away like your cunt wasn't pulsing as her tongue soaked your finger, like your panty didn't stick to your mound as your juices leaked while she continued to drink from you, how good and warm her mouth felt. You strut off again leaving Power lost as ever.

Game set in your mind.

And of course, you were the one who was most enjoying it. )): Intentionally taking all the ways to not run into them but sure enough that your scent would still linger around for her to catch, head turning all around a few times to look for you, frowning as she noticed where it was coming from but no choice but to follow her team as the taste would only last so short and left nothing the whole day. Smiling lightly to yourself as you knew a certain feind was suffering because of what you were doing, because of you. )): It didn't stop there, though. How could it when she was just so cute? Having the guts to show yourself sometimes to her, adrenaline pumping in you for you knew you were provoking such a thirsty creature and suddenly exposing yourself like that was a risk, yet it made you so thrilled, all of your insides pulsing as you see her eyes turn wide. Speaking to their team so casually like you didn't know she just wanted to pounce on you but she just stood still, a grin couldn't be helped to show as you saw how she was gnawing on her lips. Always expecting that you'll let yourselves be alone again but no, you're always just walking away.

And Power has had enough. One's patience could only run so thin, let alone a hungry fiend, let alone her.

So she sneaked off to find you, letting your scent that was in the air to lead her to you and there she found you just standing in the corner where a vending machine was. Preoccupied with getting the few things you bought, you didn't feel her presence grew nearer and even until she stood behind you. Only when you stood up, your back met her front because she was so close to you. With how heavy she was breathing that you feel it on you, you knew it was her, and her marked eyes was clear on the glass of the machine. How they're blown out stared through yours, she can feel that all of you heightened, making you even more appetizing to her hunger. You knew that your game ended here and another new one began.

Power dipped her head in your neck and you gasp, expecting that she'd bite you and suck everything out from you right then and there, the things in your hands were now on the ground. But you were wrong, your composure gone in that second but she was too busy to inhale you to noticed that, her arms sliding around you, trapping you as she continued to nuzzle her face on you, moving the fabrics out of the way. Your breath breaking once she tightens her hold, hands squeezing your belly, the other on your breast, the nonexistent distance on you had her core against your ass--creating that friction that made you flinch to grind against her. Your strangled moan in your pursed lips in sync to her quite loud and surprised, she froze.

With that, you had the upper hand that almost swept away from you. You smiled, a hand going up to caress her face as you thrusted your ass to her, giving that heat you knew she felt just before and it made her buried her face in your shoulder as she squeezed you, that found burning pressure staying. You both weren't standing straight anymore but she's crouched forward to you and your behind bended down to her. Power is beating against you and you knew she was going to be hungry for a new thing. Your hand continued to rake her hair gently as she twitched, little breaths she make that sends shivers to you.

You stood straight and she follows, weakly so. Putting your arms on top of hers, sighing as you laid your head on her shoulder, eyes to the cieling. Calming yourself and her before she wouldn't be able to control herself anymore and just take you there. Power nestled her head on your neck, can't get enough of you, the softness and heat that surrounded her and just everything of you.

With another breath you let out, you took her hand and led the way for you both to your office. Not needing to look back as you already know she was following you like a lost cat, just eager to be taken care of. That's exactly how Power was.

You locked the door and Power didn't waste no time to pull on your arm for you to meet her front again. Wanting to do what she felt earlier, "My! So eager." You laughed, she feels the rumbles that comes out from you as you pressed your back further into her, letting her squeeze you so hard to give what she was looking for but just imeddiately, you took her arms away from you and turned to face her.

Frown etched to her face, if she had ears that can droop, it would have been like that. Your hand came up to cup her cheek, she nuzzles to it. "What do you want? Hmm?" You asked, your voice sweet as ever but that made it all the harder for her to speak. She just continued to rub her face in your palm, hiding her closed eyes but that wouldn't do, so you held her chin to make her look at you, cupping them firmly that her lips puckered a little and her eyes opened. "I asked you a question." Gone was that sweet tone and replaced with a demanding one.

Power squirmed, eyes roaming but you stopped that by squeezing her face gently, eyes that was blinking rapidly met yours unfazed, your eyebrows just raised at her. She whimpered, lips quivering and eyes began to gloss. But your lips only curved up and she was even more.....thrilled. "....W-Want....want to taste y-you..." She managed to let out.

Your cunt pulsed at that, sharp breath from your mouth knowing she wasn't aware of what that words could mean a different thing. But there was time for what you were thinking. "Good girl," you mumbled, softening your hold on her and she untenses, eyes fluttering. You walked to your chair, taking off your coat and hers, but just that. Sitting on the chair, you sprawled out your legs and reached out for her. "Sit." She followed your word and your hand, laying herself down on your thigh. Holding her legs down to stop her from twitching, she was so warm and almost wet.

With the want to hide herself again, you stopped her, "Look at me." She did, however low her head was, she still looked at you. You clenched your thigh as you forced her legs to move down and forward, the act had her flinch and gripped your shoulders, whimpering. "Do you want this?" You asked, squeezing her legs.

Her lips bitten, she nodded hesitantly, and she moves a little to do what you just did but you stopped her. "Answer me." She's now breathing hard from her mouth, eyes still on each other, you waited for her, no matter how your core was fucking aching for so long, the beating of her own cunt going through you. "....Yes, yes, yes." Nodding impatiently this time as she uttered. You lean back and she follows you.

You smirked, loosening your tie and the cuffs of your polo, your arms now on the armchair. "Then move." Her eyes widened a little, unsure of what to do but the throbbing feeling down her had her hands gripping your shoulders tightly as she moved her legs with the try to create that same force you made.

Power released her broken gasps as she found it, continuously so and you're just there watching her grind herself down on you, her head turning to everywhere but your hand went to her face, slowing down her pace, "Keep your eyes on me." You commanded and she nodded, moving again but you didn't let go of her face and instead put a thumb in her mouth. Giving her a warning stare to send a message to not bite her but just suck, and that she did. Tongue swirling against it, her sounds now kept because of her sucking but still loud and whiny as she made her pace fast again.

Having enough of your restraining, the feeling of her cunt and her ass grinding on your thigh, each hump had you feel her pulsation, the fabrics of your clothes made no problem to feel that pleasure but you even think that it made it all the better. A wet patch coming through the place she was on and your own was dripping as well. Her lips wrapped around your thumb as she sucked on it, working her tongue on the while--it made you cut your restraints.

You pulled out your thumb, drops of drool coughing out as her opened mouth continued to moan. She still hasn't found her release, it only made you smug. "Stop." You demanded. With shuddering breaths, she slowed down but still moving, that curling heat still lingering, and you waited for her to come down on the high she was chasing.

You loosen your already opened shirt, bra strap and a little bit off your cleavage showing, enough to wake her up from her hazy state. What she was seeing, understanding, made her already fucked out eyes turned wide blown, a shattered sound as her mouth opened, her fanged teeth baring. You leaned forward while grabbing her tie, closing the distance on your faces, breaths fanning on each other. "Come get your lick, kitten." You whispered to her ear and her face was already on your neck, nuzzling higher until she took a deep breath before biting down.

A loud groan came out from you once you felt not only two but four sharp teeth dig into your skin, feeling the strains on your flesh, fingers gripping on her legs tightly. "Fuck." You swore as she began to suck, the blood flowing out as she drank had your eyes closing, pain all over but you managed to have a hold of yourself.

You move your hips, grinding down on the chair to give something to your throbbing cunt so to shut out the pain, along with guiding Power's waist with your death grip to move her down against you. She faltered from what you were doing, almost choking on your blood while she moaned. Hummed moans you let out as you have an ongoing pleasure beneath and above you and Power was writhing on you, from everything that you were giving her; the softness against her while drinking you up, that burning on her cunt as it pressed against her clothes to your flesh--it pushed her to the edge to find her release. You're following after, both of your movements faltering, she's shuddering, her teeth contracting on your flesh, reliving the pain again and it only made you move harder to let that heat stay, your hips tiring out as you did.

As you both came down from your high, when you lead Power to lean back so you can look at her, ignoring the threatening pain as she pulled out her teeth, blood dripping down on her, she's found your eyes, they were gentle. Only then she found her answer why you were different.

And it didn't stop there. Only then she saw the gentleness beneath your defeaning gaze as you became together. Only then she knew how different you were.

[c-o-t-o]

Shower scene, Aki arc (Denji x reader -> Aki x reader) PART 1

(Takes place after Part 1 with Denji here)

(Part 2 here)

(Part 3 here (end) )

Author: c-o-t-o

Character: transitions from Denji x fem reader to Aki x fem reader

CW: 18+ only, sexual content/smut, explicit language, choking, BDSM/dominance (some CWs apply to different parts

Misc: ~3.5k words, Part 1. ***Alternate story line that deviates from Denji Shower Scene, please read Part 1 of that (linked below title)***

About: After helping a weak Denji shower and giving him your blood to heal him, things take a turn when Aki interrupts the shower. Instead of spending the night with Denji, you go to Aki's room after he insinuates that he'll be waiting for you.

*Do not remove info or credit from posts when reblogging or sharing!*

Denji's face hovers just above yours with his hands on the floor on both sides of your head. The realization fully hits you now that you and Denji are both lying naked on the shower floor together and that he's fully conscious now. Your chest rises and falls quickly as your breath quickens. Actually, Denji is so close to you that you can see your breath moving his hair. You remain frozen in his gaze, unsure of what to do now. 

You see small amounts of blood flowing from your neck down the floor to the shower drain. It makes you wonder if your wetness absolutely pouring out of you would be noticeable flowing away from you as well. You want nothing more than to lean up and kiss him, but now that you're in the moment, you freeze. 'Why? Why can I bring myself to do it? What's stopping me…?'

Denji's mouth slightly drops open at the sight of your boobs, your nipples hard from being out of the water and getting cold. With his free hand he starts moving his hand down towards your chest but stops right above them. He looks back up at you and swallows hard, practically drooling at the prospect of finally getting to squeeze a girl's boobs. You know that Denji's had a few girlfriends, but nothing ever got serious enough for him to cop a feel or sleep with one of them.

Although you still can't bring yourself to look at him, you manage to nod your head up and down, caught up in the heat of the moment. Immediately Denji's face becomes flushed and his mouth opens more in disbelief that you're letting him do this.

He gently cups the side first and lets out a slight gasp at how soft they are. His fingertips seem to melt into them as he tests the suppleness. His thumb slowly drifts over to your nipple which hardened even more at his touch. Not realizing how hard your nipple is, he unintentionally ends up flicking it with his thumb as you let out a moan.

So loud, in fact, that it echoes through the shower.

"---? Denji?" You hear a muffled voice coming from somewhere… 

Suddenly the shower door swings open, Aki standing in the doorway. All he sees is Denji pinning your wrists above your head on the shower floor, him grabbing your boob, and blood seeping from your neck.

"Denji, what the fuck??! Get off her! What did you do?!" Aki grabs Denji's arm pulling him off of you. All you see before they're out the door is Denji reaching out to you with the saddest look on his face.

"Aki, wait, she-!" And in an instant they were out the door, Aki slamming the door shut behind them. You lay there on the shower floor, water still running… face beet red and soaking wet between your thighs. You grab your boob that Denji was just touching and sigh.

"How far would Denji have gone if Aki didn't stop him?" Sure you've both flirted, but you didn't expect this to take the turn it did. 

Later on while in the living room, Aki hands you a cup of tea while you and Denji sit at the kotatsu. "You have to imagine what was running through my mind when I opened the door, your blood washing away and Denji pinning you down…" Aki clears his throat and sits down with the two of you. "I didn't realize he was weak and you offered him your blood." He takes a sip of his drink and looks away from you, slightly flustered. "I didn't know I was… interrupting something."

You and Denji both wave your hands out as if to assure Aki nothing was happening, insisting that it was a misunderstanding. He looks at you, then turns and glares at Denji.

"What??" Denji asks, annoyed.

"Nothing." Aki swirls his finger around the rim of his cup. "I'm glad it was just a misunderstanding."

Suddenly you feel a hand on your leg, but don't know who it's from.

"Because you don't treat a lady like that, DENJI." Aki retorted to Denji's attitude. "Or anyone, for that matter." Aki faces you, cheeks flush, but you don't know if it's from the tea or if he's blushing at you.

"I'll be in my room," Aki says at the same time that you feel the fingers lazily drag down your thigh and grip your knee at the end. As the hand pulls away, Aki stands up at the same time. You put two and two together easily enough, but… why?

"Who cares." Denji mutters, face looking away. Aki locks eyes with you for a moment, then leaves. 

"Shuuuuuttt uuppp!!" Power groans, sliding off the couch upside down. "I'm tryin ta sleep here! What are you all doing in my room?!" Denji rolls his eyes.

"You're in the living room, Powe-"

"WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE?!“

"SHUT UP POWER! Ughh… I'm gonna go to bed." Denji looks back to you with a pout on his face.

I'm… I'm sorry if I scared ya before. But thanks for helping me." Denji mutters. 

"Denji, please… you didn't…" you plead. As you affirm for him that you're fine, you can see relief spread on his face.

"Kay, cool." Denji smiles and throws up a peace sign, then leaves for his room.

You think back to when you and Denji were in the shower and start shaking your head. 'It's for the best that Aki stopped him. Me and Denji might have gone too far and who knows how that would've changed the dynamic of me living here' you think to yourself. 

But now your thoughts turn to Aki, almost forgetting how he was just running his fingers down your thigh. The fact that he brought up the shower thing all these hours later… was he thinking about this all day? You feel your cheeks start blushing in slight embarrassment when you wonder if he saw you naked after he pulled Denji off of you. You squirm a little in place as your sensitive areas tingle for a moment.

"What am I doing…" you say out loud to yourself and fall back to the floor with your legs still under the kotatsu. Sure you and Denji have flirted plenty while living together, but nothing ever came of it. You've tried to flirt playfully with Aki, too, but he never seemed to understand that's what you were doing. He always responded so matter-of-factly to you.

'Does he want me to go to his room?' You wonder, and at the very least you decide to go so that you can thank him for stopping Denji.

As soon as you knock on Aki's door he opens it immediately, you wonder if he was standing there waiting for you.

"Come in," he gestures to his room and closes the door behind you two. "Please, sit." He motions to his bed while he sits at his desk chair. Aki's room lighting is very dim, but you can see that it’s so neat and organized, save for the messy pile of work papers and documents on his desk. 'Was he home the whole time until he heard us in the shower?'

You both begin talking at the same time, but Aki lets you go first.

"I wanted to thank you for stopping Denji earlier. I'm sorry you had to see that. I only meant to help him shower and give him blood because I… I thought nobody else was home to help me…" you let your voice trail off, hoping Aki will chime in, which he does. He has his hands folded, his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. 

" I, um, I'm embarrassed to admit that I fell asleep at my desk working on some paperwork. But I woke up to some… sounds… I heard. I'm glad I pulled Denji off before he went too far." Aki clears his throat and looks somewhat embarrassed.

"I also need to apologize. I may have accidentally…" he clears his throat again, "I may have seen… some things… after pulling Denji off. I thought you should know. It didn't seem right for me to keep that a secret to myself." Your face immediately reddens as you look past Aki, eyes fixated on nothing, as you process the fact that he saw you naked.

Aki sits next to you on his bed. As if trying to boost his courage, he straightens his back and looks at you straight in the face.

"I wanted to say that I think you're beautiful. So… please don't be embarrassed. Also, I thought it would only be fair-" his voice stops abruptly as he kneels before you, taking your hand. "I thought it would only be fair and make things right if you were to see me, too."

Aki brushes your hair from your face, searching you for an answer.

"All those times you'd say nice things to me or try to flirt with me around the house… I've never really flirted with anyone before, so I never knew what to say back. But I was thinking about how many times you'd say those things and how much it made me want to find a way to reciprocate that. I…" Aki straightens up again and looks you right in the eyes, still holding your hands. "I really like you."

"Oh, Aki, I…" you are at a loss for words. Of course you liked Aki, too, how could you not? Living with him and Denji, you couldn't help but feel attracted to both of them. Although you had a bit of a crush on Denji, you had a deeper attraction to Aki. He was older, mature, muscular, and strong. He also took care of everyone and you loved seeing him whenever he let his guard down. So now you wonder what it would be like to see him in a moment of vulnerability, offering for you to see him naked.

Before you can even answer, Aki takes your hand up to his lips and kisses it, eyes still locked onto yours. It's an incredibly sweet gesture and it makes your heart skip a beat.

"Aki, you don't have to let me see you like that, it's fine. It was an accident."

He kneels up on his knees, fingers delicately sliding up your cheek to cradle the side of your face. "Then you can consider this an accident, if you want." Aki whispers in your ear, and kisses your cheek. Your heart aches in your chest and you feel such a sudden yearning for him, a burning urge to kiss him. Would this be his first kiss? Has Aki ever been with anyone? You think that he's been too dedicated to work to spend time with anyone else, and you've never heard about him ever dating anyone.

Without you even meaning to, your face turns halfway towards Aki, your cheeks and temples nuzzling each other's. He slowly slides his face over, lips dragging across your cheek until you are forehead to forehead. You hear him swallow hard and breathe out nervously.

Aki brushes your hair out of your face and behind your ears, then gently cups your face with both hands. He tilts his head to the side, his nose finding its place next to yours, when your lips slowly (and kind of sensually) meet. As your lips delicately part there's a faint smacking sound. Aki holds position right in front of your face, looking down at your lips, waiting to see if you'll kiss him back as a sign for him to continue everything.

Heart racing, you give in to your desires and kiss him back. You didn't know what to expect from Aki or what he would be like romantically, but you find him far more sensual and gentle than you expected. Treating you as if you're something to be cherished. The way his thumb rubs against your cheek as he kisses you deeply, or runs his fingers through your hair… even when he slips his tongue into your mouth, he lets out small delicate moans that make you want to whimper. You run your shaky hands over Aki's arms and feel the firmness of his muscles through his t-shirt. You slide your hands up his sleeves and feel your heart twinge, feeling his smooth skin and defined muscles. 

Noticing you feeling him, Aki leans back and calmly lifts his shirt up over his head, gently placing it on the chair behind him. He takes your hands and places them on his chest. Your heart melts as you get the chance to touch him like you've always wanted to. You feel the rigidness of his collar bones and sternum, and sleek, soft skin beneath your fingers. You look down at his toned body and gasp quietly. Your hands slide over his strong shoulders and run your fingertips into his shoulder blades. He lets out a small moan.

Aki stands up, again clearing his throat. He looks down at you with his hands on the button of his pants, hesitating, to make sure that you're okay with this. When you don't protest, Aki nods his head.

"Well then," he unbuttons and unzips his pants. "I'm going to take these off now," he announces so properly, taking such precaution as to not upset or startle you. He slides the pant legs off, stepping out carefully, then folding his pants in half and placing them on the chair as well so they don't wrinkle. 

Even in the dim, ambient lighting in his room, you can still see that Aki is wearing black boxer briefs. Making sure not to rush anything, he kneels down before you again. 

"Aki, this is fine, you don't have to undress just to make this even. This is good enough-" you get cut off from him kissing you again.

"Fair is fair." He stands up, ready to pull his underwear off when you grab his wrist to stop him.

"Wait, why don't you…" you try to think of some kind of alternative so that he doesn't strip openly in front of you. Not that you don't want to see that (because you really do), but you know it'll make you look so embarrassed to just sit there watching him. "Why don't you come under the blanket with me? And we can ease into me seeing you." You pull the blankets on his bed back and get underneath. As Aki watches you get into his bed, he swallows hard and you notice a bulge forming in his tight boxer briefs. He nods, still finding it hard to believe that you're in his bed.

He slides in under the blanket with you, sandwiching you between him and the wall. He lays leaning on his arm, head resting in his hand, and you can't look away from his chiseled torso and muscular arms. You could practically drool from the sight. In this moment you make up your mind that you'll put yourself out there with Aki and see where it goes. You like him so much that with him undressing in front of you, looking the way he does, it was enough to validate those feelings in you.

You try to nonchalantly take your shirt off as well when Aki stops you.

"You don't have to do that, I'm doing this to make things fair…" Aki pleads. You put your hands on Aki's to lower them from you.

"I want to." You look away blushing with a shy smile forming on your lips. "I… I really like you too, Aki." Seeing red spread across his cheeks, he freezes as you continue to lift your shirt up off of yourself, following your movements with just his eyes. He looks all around you, taking in the sight of you up close, blushing again. 

His fingers drag along your shoulder, moving straight down between your breasts to your stomach. 

"You're so beautiful," Aki sighs at you, leaning forward and kissing your shoulder. He stops when he sees the bitemarks left behind by Denji, groaning. "I can't believe he did this to you, I wish I had come in sooner. Does it hurt?" Aki asks, concerned.

"No, not anymore." You reassure him.

Aki nods his head and kisses the mark gently, as if trying to make up for the pain that was there before. You both lean back onto the pillows, you laying on your back, Aki still on his side. He keeps kissing your shoulder, making his way down to your chest. You feel him hesitate and you reassure him that you want to do this.

Aki begins by kissing your breasts, feeling the suppleness with his lips. As your nipple hardens, he takes it into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. He delicately sucks and licks it, causing you to moan out loud. He does it really expertly but so gently at the same time, practically massaging it with his tongue. You try to run your fingers through his hair but forget that it’s up in a ponytail. You'd take it out, but… you really like how he looks with it. You feel his bulge against your leg and without even thinking about it, find your hand moving down towards it. You graze your fingers along the length of it over the fabric, and you feel his entire body twitch in response. Your nipple pops out of his mouth when he looks up at you, face completely and utterly red with surprise and slight embarrassment.

“Wh- what are you doing? You don’t have to, I’m doing all of this for you…” He looks somewhat guilty, when you lightly grip his bulge in response. You love seeing these expressions on his face because you never have before.

“Aki, I think we’re already past that, with you… doing that to me…” you look down with your eyes as if to gesture to him sucking on you. “I told you that I really like you, too. And I’m topless in your bed with you. So…” You both look at each other for seconds in silence. “Well, do I really have to say it, Aki?” Your face blushes and you pull the blanket up to cover your face out of embarrassment. He finally gets the hint and moves back up to you, hands on both sides of your head, leaning above you. The sight of him holding himself up above you turns you on so much that you immediately feel yourself getting wet.

“Do you really want to do this with me?” His eyes lit up with disbelief and excitement. While still covering your face, eyes looking away from his, you nod your head up and down.

“I have for a while,” you speak into the blanket, slightly muffling your voice. It was still clear enough for Aki to hear, though. He tilts his head affectionately. Aki lowers the blanket, holding your face, kissing you slowly and deeply. With him above you like this, you run your hands down his abs and under the waistband of his underwear, slowly sliding it off of him. Aki drags it down the rest of the way, letting it fall off the side of the bed, unable to take his eyes off of yours all the while. He rests his head in the nape of your neck kissing it, when you reach down and find his incredibly hard cock with your hand. You wrap your fingers around it, fingertips barely able to meet around the other side of it. His breath hitches in his throat and you hear him moan into you. His moans are so deep that you can practically feel them vibrating into you. It makes you shudder and cringe.

You begin pumping up and down, Aki kissing your neck more fervently as you pick up the pace. You gasp out loud when, all of a sudden, you feel his fingertip rubbing on your underwear. He somehow got his hand up your shorts without you even noticing because of the way he was kissing your neck, almost making you feel drunk with lust. You stop stroking him to pull your own shorts and underwear off, throwing it over the side of the bed. Getting caught up in the heat of the moment, Aki immediately reaches down and starts sliding his fingers up and down through your wetness, making you gasp out loud. You cover your mouth to stifle your voice. Aki laughs breathily through his nose.

“You don’t have to worry, I want you to enjoy yourself. Even if it means letting your moans out.” Aki says into your neck.

“I don’t want anyone to hear me, though…” Your voice cuts off with a gasp as Aki licks the outside of your ear, tenderly nibbling on your earlobe.

“And if they do? They won’t dare bring it up. This is my home, and I’ll do what I like here,” Aki says with a voice so deep it makes your body shudder. You gasp loudly, feeling Aki slide his fingers into you, slowly moving them in and out with a curl. “Including you.”

---------- To be continued ----------

[pompomegranate]

like you never left [18+]

chainsaw man | aki hayakawa x f!reader | 5.8k

warnings | ex!aki, so lots of angst. very explicit smut. minors dni. reader features | physically shorter than aki. reader is a bit jaded from the breakup, but cares very deeply about aki. reader doesn’t know the extent of aki’s past yet, but knows a good bit about what his work entails. a/n | this is inspired by @meownotgood​‘s aki-ex-headcanons, because the concept has been swirling around in my brain bc of these asks since they posted them. this is my favorite thing i’ve written in a while. i hope you enjoy <3 more detailed tags on ao3! read on ao3

You can’t quite bring yourself to exit the car just yet. Hands shaking on the steering wheel, you grip it tight, tight enough to break the skin if you really wanted to bleed.

It’s cloudy, sky casting a gloomy bluish filter across the city. The perfect weather for the day you’ve been dreading for months.

You’ve put off gathering the last of your things from Aki’s place for far too long. You’ve run out of excuses, pulling from what you thought was an endless pile of them any time he asked, and it’s gotten gradually more painful to talk to him. Every conversation is arduous, like extracting a tooth from the root with no sedatives.

You miss him. Undeniably so.

No matter how hard you’ve worked to move on, he’ll forever be a part of you – the world you’d built together may have crumbled, but the ruins remain; the good memories survive despite your effort to bury them deep.

But you could never forget Aki. You’re kidding yourself if you think that it’s even a possibility for you.

You see him every day – in the cigarette cartons behind the register at your favorite convenience store. In the homemade curry you cook from scratch to comfort you on the coldest days. In the cleaning habits you’ve formed, smoothing the wrinkles from the freshly washed sheets that you make your bed (every morning) with. In the way you watch films, in the way you listen to music, in the way you enjoy a cup of coffee.

He’s rubbed off on you, too.

You hold your cards closer to your chest, now. You value your privacy a lot more. You celebrate achievements quietly, humbly. Your work ethic is different, too.

All because of Aki.

Maybe you’ve changed for the better, you’re not sure; regardless, that neither changes nor mends a broken heart.

For all the days of smooth sailing, there were just as many days of rough waters waiting ahead.

“I’ll be home soon,” Aki promises, one of many that he doesn’t mean to break.

It’s a statement, but he’s pleading it. An underlying question: “Will you wait for me?”

You do, like you always have, a hearty dinner waiting for him after what you can already tell is a particularly taxing day – you know this because every day is the same.

It’s always like this. Infinite overtime, gluttonous expectations, a crushingly depressing career outlook. “Clocking out” is a meaningless phrase, because when you’re a devil hunter, you never really do.

Dinner gets cold. You prepare for the worst.

The sun sinks behind the neighboring buildings. From late afternoon to dusk. Dusk to evening.

The phone doesn’t ring, no matter how hard you will someone – anyone – to call.

What were Aki’s last words? “I’ll be home soon”? Did he say “goodbye”? Did he tell you he loved you?

Did you tell him you loved him this morning? Can you remember his smile? Or the last kiss you shared before he darted out of the door?

You don’t know how much time has passed when Aki finally shows. You haven’t done much more than stare at the front door.

He’s disheveled, exhausted, eyes wild with an apology that hadn’t quite met his lips.

That’s when it clicks for you. 

The lens you see your relationship with Aki fades from the rose hue it’d been for god knows how long, and now you’re only able to see it for what it was. You were always going to come second to his job, even if he was 100% committed to making it work.

It’s out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, your heart working faster than your mind.

“I can’t be a bystander in your own suicide mission, Aki.”

The words hit, like a blow to the chest, and it only gets worse from there.

You have a lengthy discussion about your relationship, but nothing is really resolved. It ends with you packing a bag, but before you can leave, he convinces you to stay. Just for the night. You take the bed, he takes the couch – at his insistence.

He’s gone for work before you wake, an apology letter tucked into the zipper of your bag. (You still haven’t read it. You can’t bring yourself to.)

You haven’t come back since.

A part of you was happy that you’d never gotten around to moving in with him because it’d make this a hell of a lot harder. Although, with the sudden absence of your weekend getaways, you’ve spent more time mourning the breakup than healing from it.

Nostalgia tugs you from your car and towards the stairs. You plod upward towards his apartment that overlooks the city, your favorite view of it.

You’re on autopilot as you walk down the familiar hall, thinking back on the casual friendships you’d made with Aki’s neighbors and coworkers. How you recognized that they were forged in passing, and now you’d probably never amount to more than a blip on their memory. You were so naive to think that transience didn’t – could never – apply to you.

A split second after you rap your knuckles against the wood door, it flies open, a breathless Aki waiting for you on the other side.

“Hi,” he says, gaze focused, flitting back and forth across your face, your body – like he’s recommitting you to memory.

You know, because you’re doing it, too.

His hair is longer, nearly grazing his shoulders now. There’s a new scar on his cheek – still pink, not as faded as the pale marks decorating the rest of his body.

Not much has changed. He’s still the same old Aki you fell in love with.

“Hey,” you breathe, already fidgeting. The urge to bolt buzzes throughout your body, but your fingers practically itch with the need to reach out and touch him. Both sensations neutralize each other, so instead, you do nothing.

“Do you… wanna…” he trails off, letting the rest of the question hang in the thick air between you.

He steps back to let you in, and you wordlessly pass through the frame – homesickness hits you like a wave of nausea. You try not to show it on your face, but Aki watches you from his peripheral, clearing his throat to relieve some of the tension.

“Would you like something to drink?” He’s just being polite, as always.

“I’m good, thanks,” you shake your head, smiling weakly. You’re not sure your unsettled stomach could handle anything right now.

“Then… I’ll, uh, be in here if you need me.” Aki nods to the kitchen, where he’s prepping food and washing dishes.

(It’s just like him to spend his day off doing chores.)

And with a knowing look, you’re both off on your own. You wade through the viscous tension towards the place you’re dreading most of all.

The bedroom is just like you left it: pristine, wrinkle-free, devoid of personality.

His place has always mimicked website photos of a university dormitory, severely lacking in character, functionality the only goal. You’ve never quite cracked why he doesn’t decorate, why there aren’t pieces of himself woven into the interior of his home.

There’s a few items on the bed, folded and neatly stacked – the last of your things barely take up the length of a pillow.

Torn photo strips from a boardwalk booth you’d visited once (torn so you could share the best takes), hair ties that are too frilly to be his. A tube of citrus scented (and flavored) lip gloss that he’s kissed off of your lips a dozen times before, that he’s licked off of his own when you part. Your favorite oversized tee you slept in every time you came over – one you’d stolen from him, that you’d insisted he wear for a while before you took it for yourself. You take a deep whiff and a lump forms in your throat – it still smells like him.

A worn pair of slippers that were a gift from him, a (surprisingly untangled) pair of headphones you’d borrowed from him a million times, his key to your home, your favorite cassette – a mixtape he’d made for you. 

All of these items are ones that prick you just deep enough in your unhealed sore spots to make you flinch. Theoretically, you could just throw all of these in a metal trash bin and light it on fire, wiping your hands of the whole thing.

But the sentimentality holds you back, restraining any irrational decision you might make.

Is this all a manipulation tactic? A ploy to get you back? Or are you thinking the worst of him because of how much this hurts?

You shove away the thought and pick up the functional items first. Hair ties, lip gloss, slippers, headphones, key.

But… the hair ties are the same color as his eyes. The slippers were a sweet “You needed it, so I bought them” surprise that led to a dozen kisses, which led to even more. The headphones are a white flag in a sense – he’s finally revoking ownership. The lip gloss reminds you of his lips, the taste and feel of him.

And the key makes this even more real.

It falls through your trembling fingers, the metal clattering loudly against the wood flooring. You hear a scuffle of feet and sense him in the doorway before you see him.

Aki’s arm is braced against the frame, brows furrowed in concern, lips parted – a question on the tip of his tongue.

“I’m okay,” you say, but your voice wavers.

He raises to his full height, appraising you with curious eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He completely ignores what you’ve claimed, because he knows you better than you care to admit.

“Nothing.”

A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “You never were a good liar.”

A beat passes before you tell him the truth. “I can’t take any of these things with me.”

He’s quiet when he asks, “Why not?”

The knot in your throat is tightening, firmly at the center of your neck – no amount of swallowing will get rid of it. Tears burn your vision. Your whole upper body is on fire. Your resolve is crumbling, because you know that one hug from Aki could fix all of your problems but you can’t –

“I’m sorry,” Aki murmurs apologetically, jaw flexing in annoyance at himself. “I wasn’t right to pry. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

You clasp your hands together as tightly as you physically can, ignoring the pain. It’s all you can do to keep from reaching out to touch him.

“Everything –” You tip your chin at the pile. “– reminds me of you.”

Aki blinks, once, twice, a third time while he processes what you’ve just said.

Does he not see you – everywhere, in everything – like you see him?

“At first, I thought maybe you deliberately put these out to antagonize me, but you’re just… so damn sweet, Aki. You could never.”

You can’t bear to look at him. Your gaze is trained on the house key at your feet, but you make no move to pick it up.

His stare is intense, heavy, pinning you under it – you don’t move. You can’t.

“If they cause you pain, please don’t take them. I can get rid of anything you don’t want.”

It’s clear that he’s trying desperately to remain neutral. A part of you was hoping his composure would crack, but it’s still intact.

“They don’t cause me pain, Aki,” you whisper, clutching your hands into fists. “They’re good memories. That’s the problem. If I remember you fondly, then I’ll never be able to move on.”

He’s lost for words, much like when you told him you were done. The combination of his thunderstruck expression and your revelation sucks the air out of the room, and it feels like you’re suffocating.

He steps back, out of the doorframe, and you think he’s going to bolt, but he stays put.

“I – didn’t mean –” He stutters, bringing a rough hand to tangle in his hair.

“I know.”

“I wasn’t trying to –”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

You smile weakly and wave a hand. “It’s fine.”

He takes two steps, now inside of the doorway, tall frame filling up the exit, but he looks so small.

“Do you think it would’ve been better to throw them away?” He asks, voice low, unsure.

You shrug. “We’d still remember.”

At least, you would. You couldn’t forget Aki even if you wanted to.

“So… how’s work?” You ask, an abrupt (but needed) subject change.

“Work is…” His voice fades, and you know it’s gotten worse.

“More demanding?”

“We’re short-staffed, so yes –” He winces, sensing his mistake almost as soon as it’s left his mouth. He’s always been honest to a fault.

There’s no doubt he’s remembering how the last time you discussed this topic, it nearly devolved into an argument – and how upset you were when you found out just how much was really being asked of him.

“So they’re still overworking you. That’s why you look so tired,” you chuckle humorlessly.

“I haven’t been sleeping.”

“And you’re going to work that way?”

“I’ll survive.”

You grit your teeth, finally staring at him dead-on. “Will you?”

Uneasiness clouds his expression, your confrontation waging a losing battle.

“I don’t think any answer of mine will satisfy you,” he sighs.

And he’s right. No matter what he says, how willing he is to put himself in harm’s way, there should be safety precautions in place for even the most reckless employees.

“I worry about you, that’s all.”

Aki doesn’t say anything, but steps over to the other side of the bed, glancing down at the pile. He leans down and runs the pads of his fingers across the faux fur lining of the slippers.

Even more painful questions you aren’t sure you want to know the answer to swirl around your mind.

How long has he had this pile? Does he hide it away? If he keeps it out where he can see, are they meaningful to him, too?

What does he remember? What does he choose to forget?

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

You’re caught off guard by that, annoyance bubbling over the edge.

“As long as you’re a devil hunter, I’m going to be worried for you,” you say, bluntly.

“I know what I signed up for –”

“‘I know what I signed up for when I joined,’ yes, I’ve heard it before, Aki. I don’t need rehearsed answers.” Your tone is increasingly irritated, dripping from every word.

Aki’s face scrunches in distaste.

“Do you know how many times this past month alone I’ve wondered if I’ll have to find out about your death over the news?”

You don’t wait for an answer.

“Every fucking day.”

Speechless again, Aki keeps his mouth shut.

Your palms sweat, your heart races, your jaw sets, but you don’t back down. You may never see Aki again after this, and by god, you’re going to try to get through to him before you go. If you can’t save him, at least you can say you put up a fight.

“Public Safety my ass, Aki – who’s protecting you? Who? Because it’s not them,” you start, delivery clipped. “They don’t care about you. In their eyes, you’re expendable –”

“It’s complicated –”

“It’s not complicated, it’s either you stay there and die or you resign and live,” you plead, taking a half step towards him. “Please, don’t make this harder than it is.”

“I can’t – it’s… complicated,” Aki says again and looks away.

“You have more reasons to walk away than stay, Aki.”

His eyes flash up to yours. “I don’t know if I believe that to be true.”

The storm in his eyes is something you’d describe as the midpoint between torment and despair.

You never thought leaving would push Aki farther into work. At the very least, you hoped he’d leave and find happiness – even if it wasn’t with you at his side. You wanted him to enjoy his life, not value it so little that he’d throw himself in harm's way at any opportunity.

You never wanted to leave him in the first place. Aki is everything you’d ever wanted, wrapped up in a handsome package with a big bow on top (in the form of a stiff ponytail).

You don’t have a trump card, but you do have your heart, and you’re wearing it on your sleeve.

You make a move, swiftly closing the gap. He watches your every move as you lean in and –

You kiss.

You collide and retract like gentle waves on a seashore, pulling back every few seconds to check if this – whatever it is – is okay. The taste of him is familiar and comforting and delicious. His kisses are lax but controlled in the movement, his composure on the brink of collapse but he’s Aki, so of course he grips the wheel to avoid crashing.

The waves pull back, and so do you, tipping your chin back to measure his approval. His expression reveals nothing, but his eyes tell a different story. Drunk on you with a hint of reluctance that you struggle to translate.

“Are you kissing me because you want to?” You ask before you can think twice. “Or because you’re just being polite?”

It’s like the last thread of his willpower snaps, and he’s surging you like high tide.

The waters are dangerous and you’re all but drowning in him but you can’t find it in yourself to care. He’s everywhere – you’re submerged in him, every inch of you consumed by Aki.

You’ve been avoiding this day for months, yes, and it’s because you knew this was a possibility. Folding as soon as he looks at you with his breathtaking eyes and says your name – his pretty mouth forms around it, whispering it like a prayer to any god that’ll listen.

You suck his bottom lip roughly and he moans, rumbling up through his chest, the sound spilling into your own parted mouth.

You run a hand down his chest, stomach, hips. He pants heavily as you do so, stomach stuttering with every movement. You’ve missed his lips, his tongue, his lewd moans, his silky smooth cock – when you slip your fingers into the fabric at his hips, past the elastic of his boxers, he’s groaning and bucking in anticipation.

“God… baby…” His voice is hoarse with lust, crackly with a bit of bass to it that makes your thighs clench.

The crook of his hands slots against your hips, fingertips playing with your waistband. The pads of his fingers graze your bare skin and you’re trying to hold his gaze, but the underlying intensity has you faltering.

You retract your hand, much to his distaste. You lick a long, firm stripe up your palm and finally wrap your hands around his shaft.

Dilated pupils disappear behind fluttering lids, and you know he’s a goner. Slow strokes elicit garbled praises from Aki, has him clutching your sides with a firm grip.

When you swirl your wrist around the tip, precum coating his head, he leans into you, posture crumbling. He folds, his temple pressed against your head while he pants into your ear.

“Shit – oh my god – you’re so good –”

It’s not long before he’s humping up into your curled palm, arms slung around your waist as he squeezes you closer. He’s putty in your hands. You missed this.

“I’m about to –” You cut him off with a kiss, hooking your arms around his neck. His toned body lines up with yours like a puzzle piece slotting perfectly into place. You missed this.

He’s rock hard against you, but his calloused hands are soft where they slide up to cup your face. You missed this most of all.

Being held so gently by the man so secretive that those close to him seldom know what he’s thinking. Being held so lovingly by the man driven by the bitter taste of revenge that forever lingers on his tongue. Being kissed so sweetly by the man who’s lost so much – but still has that much more left to give.

You thought he’d be used up long ago (he couldn’t possibly have more left to give, you were convinced), but Aki’s love is boundless. It’s his ambitions that trap him in a space just out of your reach.

With an unceremonious brush of his arm, the bed is cleared, all of your belongings joining the house key on the floor, clattering rhythmically against the wood.

He seats himself on the edge of the bed and you straddle him, knees squeezing his narrow hips tight.

A part of you wants to stop this before you go too far, but with the way Aki is looking at you, you know there’s no going back. The damage is already done.

Instead of doing the rational thing, you indulge in your fantasy, giving into the temptation that’s taunted you since you walked out.

Aki’s gaze is heavy-lidded, lustful, lips swollen as they struggle to form words. He seems completely dumbfounded that this is really happening, as are you.

His hands snake back up to your waist and he unbuttons your bottoms with trembling fingers.

“Aki?” You whisper. “Are you okay?”

Are you okay with this? With having sex after being apart for so long? Are you okay not knowing if anything will come of this? If sleeping together will do more harm than good?

Your tight jaw barricades your questions behind your gritted teeth, lips pinched tight, your curiosity staved off by nervousness. You don’t want to know the answer to any of them.

“I’m okay – I –” he blinks himself out of his daze, running a rough hand through his hair.

“Is this really happening?”

“Yes, it really is.”

His thin brows pull together, creases forming in the space between. “I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks now, so I’m not fully convinced I’m awake.”

You lean in, tugging the loose hem of his oversized shirt up and over his head, before weighing down on him till he falls back onto his back, half-naked and breathless underneath you.

“What can I do to convince you?”

Diluted light from the sunless sky casts a cool glow throughout the bedroom. His hair fans around him, a raven hue that reflects navy in the right lighting.

His bare chest heaves as he watches you above him, gaze flitting across every inch of you, recommitting you to memory the same way he did when you knocked on the door, only hungrier this time.

“Can I taste you?” Aki asks, almost shyly, if it weren’t for the husky tone he takes.

You nod. In a frenzy, he’s flipped you on your back, tugged your bottoms all the way off – leaving only your intimates, a plain cotton pair ill-suited for the occasion. Aki never cared about the presentation of the gift, just its contents. You could be wearing a burlap sack and he’d still find you as fuckable as if you were in lingerie. He adores you that much.

A sigh escapes him, airy and bordering on a moan. He runs his palms up from your ankles, kissing inside your shin, your knee, the plush skin of your thigh.

He hooks a finger into the crotch and pulls it aside, humming contentedly at the sight of you.

“Beautiful.”

The wet spot on your underwear is fresh, a product of the sloppy kisses you’ve shared. He doesn’t have to try that hard to make you wet, but this is ridiculous – you’re so deprived of his touch that kissing has you prepped and ready to fuck.

You’re fisting the fabric of your shirt in anticipation when he finally closes the gap, licking a long taut stripe up your cunt. Biting back a groan, you grip the sheets to get it out somehow. He does it again, this time pursing his lips to suck your clit into his mouth, before lapping at you at a relentless pace. Your eyes threaten to flutter shut, but you force them open so you can watch the perfect view in front of you – Aki between your thighs, licking, tasting, teasing you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse under your breath, tangling your fingers into the hair at his crown, training the strokes of his tongue to the speed you want.

Your hips roll to meet each lick, steadying your feet on the bed to angle yourself just right – fuck, he’s so good at this. He’s always been a little timid during foreplay, but when Aki gets going, he gets going. Your praises goad his confidence, and he’s not afraid to admit that he loves hearing you communicate just how good he is.

When Aki slips a finger in, you let him know.

“Just like that – oh my god – Aki, please, I’m so close –”

You’re folding into yourself, but he stops abruptly, gazing at you over your stomach.

“I want to see you – like that, yeah, that’s perfect,” he coos as you lift to your elbows. “Can you touch your tits for me? If you want, that is –”

You grip your shirt underneath your chin, tugging your bra up till your tits spill out. He rolls his lips together and sighs deeply, rewarding you by going back to work. You palm your tits, pinching your nipples as he watches, imagining that your hands were his own. That thought alone pushes you closer to the edge.

You’re writhing under his grip, squirming away from his relentless mouth and curled fingers, but he anchors you with a forearm, so all you can do is take it. You take it and take it and take it until the pressure builds and shatters into a million pieces, the orgasm billowing through you like a strong electric current.

When he pulls back, his lips glisten in the light, glossy and swollen because of you.

“C’mere,” you pant, tugging him onto the duvet alongside you.

You kiss him again, tasting both yourself and all the praises he couldn’t sing while between your legs.

“Do you want me to – suck you off –” you manage when you come up for air, watching his face for a reaction.

He hesitates, obviously up for either – fucking your mouth or your cunt – he’s not picky. He’s just delighted to have you back in his arms.

“I don’t mind. Whatever you want, love.”

It’s just like Aki to be painfully hard but still put you first.

“It gives me an excuse to tease you, so get those pants off,” you grin, sitting up to strip your top and bra the rest of the way off while he shifts into a sitting position, watching you intently.

In a swift move, his sweatpants are in a bunch at his ankles. You slip them off, tossing them onto the ground alongside the other discarded items. You take a moment to drink him in, internalizing every detail – new and old – so that you never forget this.

It’s not long before you yearn for the feeling of his soft skin beneath your hands. He parts his long legs even farther for you to slip between. When you take him in your mouth, he’s already bucking into you, moans spilling out of him like a string of apologies for ever letting you go.

Hollowed cheeks and a twisting motion have him slack-jawed around your name, the way he’s saying it encouraging you to keep on. You lick up his silky shaft, bob back down with tight lips – wrap your hand around him and pump him slowly with a thick coat of saliva.

You watch as his lean stomach muscles flex and roll as he juts his hips to meet your movements. His face is twisted in concentration – cumming or trying not to, you can’t tell.

You could keep on like that forever, bringing him pleasure from between his brawny thighs, but he stops you before he spills into your mouth.

“Please, I need you now,” Aki says in a throaty tone, pupils blown, a sheen of sweat glinting on his pale skin.

He grabs a condom from the top drawer of his dresser, tearing into the foil package with his teeth. You lay back against the bed as he rolls it on, stroking himself a few times before leaning over you.

Aki’s face is twisted, mouth downturned indecisively but the look in his eyes is contradicting. He wants all of you, but his confidence is wavering at every turn.

He knows this is real, this is happening, but you know Aki – he’s wondering if he deserves this. Deserves to have you back in his bed, at his mercy, apologies unspoken but forgiveness earned through physical devotion. 

He thinks he’s not enough, but that’s never been the case – Aki has always been enough for you. Stepping away was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, but essential to your livelihood. Regardless of how much you love him, you want all of him, the way you’ve given yourself to him. He’s held back for so long, but… now, you’re sure that his zealousness is focused on you, only you.

For so long, Aki burned the candle from both ends, the flames licking his skin raw, but he held on tightly, willing a balance that was never a possibility.

Revenge doesn’t hold a candle to the feeling of your love, and he knows this. He’s felt it. He’s lost it. He wants it back.

You throw him a lifeline, unable to watch him bob helplessly in the choppy waters.

“I want this, Aki. I love you – I always have,” you murmur, hooking your ankles around the small of his back.

You swear you see his lips tremble, but they crash into yours before you can really be sure. His skin is warm against yours as he presses his weight into you – you whine when you feel his tip tease you open, spreading your hips further as he rubs himself against your clit.

His hair curtains around you, midnight blanketing your vision. He sinks into you, agonizingly slow, reveling in the stretch of you around him. Your whines are harmonious, breathing in sync, ragged and laborious as he bottoms out inside of you, every inch of his cock disappearing inside of you.

For a moment, time stills, and it’s like you never left.

Nose to nose, you moan into each other, Aki’s hip rolling into yours with gentle precision you recognize as his go-to method. He’s everywhere – the smell of him, earthy and clean, envelops you. The look of him, pink-cheeked and lust-driven as he slides in and out. The feel of him – athletic arms bracketing you in, lengthy shaft driving you mad. The taste of him… familiar and intoxicating, like home – like your perfect brand of poison.

This intimacy brings you back to when you first met, when you first fucked Aki, when you confessed your feelings after a picturesque date. Being in love with Aki never faded, but you tried desperately to block it out – now it’s flooding back with a vengeance, while he’s deep inside of you.

Aki curls an arm underneath your back, tilting you up for a new angle that’s so delicious, you’re wholly engulfed by him. Your senses scream his name: Aki, Aki, Aki.

You’ve never wanted anything more than to be thoroughly fucked like this, you’re convinced. Fuck your hopes and dreams, all you need is Aki.

Your legs hold him in a vice grip, hips bucking in time with his own – God, even if you spent the rest of your life chasing this, you’d never have it this good again.

He rolls over, pulling you on top of him, his crook of his hands slotting around where your thighs meet your hips. He trains you down, lifting and dropping you at the pace he likes, building speed as quick as you can handle it.

“Fuck – yes – like – that –” you manage between sharp breaths, your palms flat against his chest to fuck him back.

“So beautiful,” he garbles out, watching you with signature adoration reserved only for you. “Shit – I love you –”

He says it back, and time stills for that much longer.

You need him closer, so you fall forward, chest to chest, kissing every inch of Aki’s skin your mouth can reach. Collarbones, neck, jaw, cheek, and finally, lips.

You sing your praises into his ear, and he does the same, vocalizing love and pleasure all at once. You returned to get your things, but you’re leaving more whole than when you arrived.

You come undone together, his cock twitching inside of you as you feel your own walls pulse around him. He fucks into you with gradually lazing strokes, flipping you over on your side as you both float back to Earth – but not before teasing you to climax one more time.

The pads of his fingers flick your clit with nimble strokes, free hand holding your thigh up so your legs are parted for him. He watches your expressions, watches every little thing his hand does to your body. You melt when you come, teleported to another realm as he talks you through it.

You crash back against the bed, not quite curling up against his side yet.

The room is coated in an almost dreamlike haze from your sex, thick and indistinct. Bleariness tinges your vision after being completely spent, but you try to make conversation anyway.

“How come you don’t decorate in here?”

“It’s hard to explain,” he says, chuckling when you make a face. “It actually is complicated, I promise.”

“I’ve never felt like any place is my home. It’s not much more than somewhere for me to lay my head. But now…” Aki trails off, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Without you in it, it’s not much of one. So I’ve given up on decorating.”

“Me?”

He shrugs. “You brighten up the room.”

Now, you cuddle up to his side, physically unable to stay away from him.

Curling up against his side, you slot against him and all of your favorite memories flood back. Ritual cat naps on your lunch breaks. Reading in bed with the window cracked, the song of the city your background noise. Sleepy morning kisses, late night makeouts with the buzz of alcohol in your veins. 

“Did you really mean what you said?” He asks softly.

“Aki… Of course I love you. Every day I’m scared that I’ll lose you, and I will have missed out on my last chance to say it.”

He exhales, and it’s like a weight is lifted. He relaxes, his face softens – like every worry dissolved with those three words.

“I love you, too,” Aki says gently, but resoundingly, a finality to it.

I love you – Your absence is an ache I can’t soothe.

I love you – You’re mine, I’m yours, and nothing is an obstacle when you’ve reached such great heights.

I love you – And I’ll say it again, and again, and again.