Genre: Fluff, mildly suggestive(?), crack, established relationship, mentions of Hyuck, Jaemin, and Chenle.
Warnings: Alcohol, drunk!Renjun, Chenle throws a shoe
WC: ~900
A/N: Fulfilling writing new year's resolution #1 😶 I will slowly start writing for NCT . . . 😊 I don't actually know what I'm doing LMAO.
Anyways! Inspired by Renjun's SMCU Palace photoshoot and just soft for a manz who looks adorable in a puffer coat - he's kinda cute ig :')
Your fingers gently traced along the pink that dusted across his cheeks as he peered up at you, standing between his legs. You weren’t sure if it was from the one too many shots Donghyuck had shoved in Renjun’s hand or the nip of the chilly evening. He was sniffling and he was hasty to take the hot pack that you offered earlier, so you presumed it was the latter. Night had already fallen, but his eyes shined prettily, a pearl-like glint in the corner of his orbs reflecting the moonlight. His lashes fluttered with every blink, his velvet lashes kissing the highs of his cheeks.
“Are you drunk?” you asked in a hushed voice. Your hands stopped at his jaw, cupping his face as you leaned in closer.
“Just cold,” he fibbed, the scent of alcohol lingering on his breath. Unintentionally exposing himself, eyes closed, he smiled a little too wide, it was almost silly, which was very unlike him. He leaned into your touch, his face landing in your hand a little rougher than intended, nearly tipping over.
You were quick to catch him, straightening his body.
“Liar,” you chuckled.
“Hey!” Renjun retorted. “Am not!”
“We should get you some water,” you started to pull away.
Immediately, Renjun’s hands came up to your waist, his fingers hooking around the pockets of your puffer coat and pulled you closer into him.
“Renjun,” you sighed.
“Stop,” he protested, “I said I’m just cold – why don’t you believe me?”
“Cold and drunk?” you offered.
He huffed, snaking his arms around your waist. Your breath hitched when he rested his cheek against your abdomen, taking you by surprise. It wasn’t that Renjun didn’t love you, but he was never one for PDA.
“Stay,” he hummed, ignoring the shock and mild annoyance in your tone. “You’re warm.”
“We’d be warmer inside.”
“I like it here.”
“Renjun . . .”
“No.”
A black and white Adidas sandal suddenly came sailing your way, whacking Renjun softly in the back.
“Hey–”
You glanced up to find Chenle wrapped in a red and green plaid blanket, leaning out the sliding door.
“Get a room,” Chenle deadpanned, “As cute as you are and as entertained as we were to get you on camera being lovey dovey for once, you’re gonna freeze out here. Plus, we’re all kind of getting sick of watching the two of you be soft and shit for us and the neighbors to see.”
Annoyed, Renjun shot a glare at his friend before wrapping his hand around your wrist and tugging you inside.
“I’ll be ‘soft and shit’ in our room for the rest of the night then,” Renjun grumbled, pushing past Chenle.
You choked on your saliva.
“He said what?!” you heard Jaemin shriek as you both walked passed by.
Pulling you inside the bedroom, Renjun was quick to lock the door. He stepped towards you, forcing you to move backwards until you felt the back of your head knock against the white-painted wood. There was a soft orange glow from the lamp you must’ve forgotten to turn off earlier. Even if there wasn’t much light, it was enough to see how blown his pupils were. You made a mental note to scold Haechan tomorrow for getting Renjun to this point. He didn’t handle his alcohol well – always loose-lipped and a little too handsy one too many shots over. He’d wake up with a bad hangover tomorrow – that’s for sure, there would also be a stream of curses and regrets while he rolled around in bed all morning.
Hands resting on either side of your head, Renjun tilted his head to the side, his eyes tracing your features and taking in your shy demeanor. They landed on your lips – dry from the cold, but still kissable.
Very kissable.
Without warning, he dipped his head and captured your lips, pleased when they still tasted like the strawberry drink you were sipping on earlier. You were taken aback for a second, pressing your back fully into the door and your fingers curled into fists, your nails scraping against the wood before you fell in rhythm with him. You grabbed onto the hems of his coat to steady yourself, leaning in deeper. Renjun made a point to pull back to keep the kiss light. It was nothing passionate per se, but there was an element of urgency to it. Soft and tender as if he was afraid he'd be too rough and make noise that'd give his friends otuside the wrong idea; but his lips moved against your own fast enough that you knew he was eager.
As quick as the kiss started, his lips left yours just as fast. It was almost as if he used his last ounce of energy on it. Pulling away from you, breathless, he dropped his head onto your shoulder, his forehead pressing into the softness of your coat where your collarbone would be. You felt a slight tug at the pockets of your coat again as his fingers curled in.
“I . . . I want to kiss you more, but I’m already tired,” he chortled. You could feel him shaking his head on your shoulder. “I’m so drunk – I’m gonna murder Hyuck tomorrow.”
“You and me, same,” you giggled. You raised a hand to pat his back gently. “Let’s sleep.”
“But . . .”
“We have the rest of this vacation to kiss – don’t worry,” you reassured him.
He huffed, raising his head and quickly pecked your lips.
You cocked a curious eyebrow at him. You weren't really used to this side of him - ever.
“One last one, for good measure,” he explained as if it was obvious.
You shook your head, chuckling, “You are very lucky you’re cute when you're drunk.”
it started with a walk on that friday night after your long work shift. he was waiting for you. hell, he wasn’t even from around. but he stood there with a chinese takeout in one hand. “breathe a little!”, the enthusiastic one exclaimed. he didn’t like seeing you frown and knowing you haven’t smiled even just a bit for a day. and so you nodded. haechan swore he was head-over-heels.
as haechan kept asking from “how was your day today?”, “does your boss treat you well?” to “did you have lunch?”, the question suddenly escalated to:
“would you go out with someone like me?”
“huh?”, you might have heard differently because the silly boy beside you started to eat his food.
haechan chewed his food fast so he could repeat: “i said… would you go out with someone like me…?”
you hit his arm playfully. “ah, what are you talking about, haech?”
“i mean… hypothetically speaking. would you go out with a haechan?”
“with a haechan?” you furrowed your eyebrows. oh, what a silly man.
“yes, with a haechan. i stand out from the rest, you know?” he nudged you on the shoulders. “you’d be lucky to end up someone like me.”
“you’re so full of shit, haech.”
“willing to be cheesy and anything for you.”, he winked.
so he tossed his empty food into the nearest bin. then there was this silence, a complete total silence as you two continued walking. but it was so nice, so pleasant. it just felt so right. it felt so fitting that it scared you that you wanted to feel the warmth of his body. there’s this strong urge to bury your head in his chest. falling in love was an unfamiliar, frightening feeling. it consumes you to the bone. oh, how clueless the boy beside you was.
and loving a haechan, you cursed cupid for hitting the wrong person with his lovestruck arrow. because he is like this to everyone—so lovingly, so sweet, so reliable, to the point you’ve been confused about where to draw the line between being friends and potential lovers.
but you slowly started reaching for his hand. it looked really soft. you wanted to grab it and interlock your fingers with his and say, “yes, i would go out with someone like you, haech.” and—
suddenly you curled your fist into a ball and pulled out when a honk of a car suddenly was heard. you came back to your senses.
haechan noticed. just so you wish he didn’t.
-
“i’ll take you home.”
“no? you’ve already taken me into the bus shed, haech.”, you insisted. “you promised you wouldn’t go further.”
“but what if someone takes you?”
“haech-”
“…from me?”
fuck. you thought. here he goes again. but you shrugged it off with a laugh. but haechan loved it on you, when you wear it—your smile. and his heart would burst to know your smile was because of him.
the bus arrived and he let you get on first. but you knew haechan liked taking the window seat, so you let him be.
you sat together. he was watching the cars passing by along with the skyscrapers shining at night. would it be unrealistic to dream of someone, you, as high as these buildings?, he wonders. then you looked at him, carefully admiring his sde features. memorizing every line and shape; how his lips would slightly pucker and the bridge of his nose you’d always want to trace and pinch. and little did you know he was watching you from the reflection of the window.
and when he tilted his head back at the front, you steered yours away. but your eyes fell down and roamed around until you see his hand over his bag. haechan looked at you, and he started slightly tapping his fingers on the leather. you wanted to reach for them again but… but—
then you made it less obvious as possible to go back looking at his face, but you couldn’t as your head tries its best to look forward. so your sight landed as farther as this: the crook of his neck, his shoulder blades you would want to lean onto. it’s sad to say your heart absentmindedly made haechan your home, your comfort, your confidant, even though he wasn’t yours.
so you came back to your senses once again. you leaned your head backward fell onto the back of the seat and sighed. you watched the people in front of you as they ride forwards.
and suddenly, haechan reached for your hand and interlocked it with yours.
you looked at him dumbfoundedly; almost taken aback.
then he slowly reached for your head and leaned it on his shoulders. you thought it was a bit uncomfortable so you said, “it’s okay, haech.” because instead, you wanted to nuzzle your head at the crook of his neck. but you believed you weren’t going to fit in, just like the two of you, which you believed. he’s still holding your hand though. so firm yet so soft, how could it this paradox be possible?
so haechan let go of your hand.
you almost yearned for the touch. god, the loss was so overwhelming, you could almost cry. you were dangerously so drawn to haechan, the thought of it would make you flinch. you had to go away. i have to go away. you reiterated at the back of your mind. god, please, help me. how cruel must you become?
but then he wrapped the same arm around your shoulders and enveloped you with his body. he adjusted his body down so your head would lay on the crook of his neck.
and just like that, you surrender.
and nothing haechan would want in this world but to wish this bus wouldn’t stop driving.
genre ❥ haechan x reader, fluff, gets kind of suggestive at the end
word count ❥ 2.3k
note ❥ i listened to this song a lot while writing this and felt like i had to do it justice. enjoy
You’re leaning against the kitchen island, a freshly-poured glass of red wine grasped between your fingers when your phone lights up with an incoming call. And as you see the familiar profile picture, your heart twinges bittersweetly.
It must be early morning there now. When you pick up, Donghyuck immediately utters a soft greeting, not even the grainy static detracting from the honey-toned quality of his voice. “Hi,” he says shyly, and you laugh.
“Hi. I think you’ve got the wrong number.”
God, you didn’t even realise how much you missed his laugh.
“Pretty sure I don’t have anyone else saved as ‘love’ on my phone, but I’ll check,” he murmurs. You hate how he’s always able to one-up you easily, the telltale blush on your cheeks one that you’re grateful he can’t see at the moment.
“The Lee Donghyuck saved my contact? I should be honoured.”
“Well, I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?” He’s right, but the phrasing makes you frown anyways. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Kidding, darling. You and I both know I fell first.”
A moan flees from your mouth as water melts the grime and weariness off your skin. An upcoming expedition translates to a double or even triple training load, and every inch of your body was pleading for a nerve-untangling bath. Upon ducking into your room, you lit up the vanilla-scented candle, letting the sweet, mouth-watering aroma suffuse your sweat-smelly cave. The straps and soaked clothes traced a path to the bathroom–tomorrow you’d mind about them. That same morning, you had filled the tub before scurrying to the training fields. Two buckets and six trips it took, but your forethought paid off.
Drops of lavender oil dappled on the water, little dots uncoiling in irregular blotches with thin rainbows warping at the edges. You stepped inside, mollifying in the warmth. A you and you moment, though, you regretted not having snuck some wine and cheese. You pinned that in the corkboard of your head for next time.
You scoot down, letting water skim your shoulders while your hands whirl underneath, cajoling bubbles. Some strands of hair fall from your messy bun, wicking and hanging in wet tendrils over your shoulders. You close your eyes and yield to the bath, clearing your mind, abiding by your plan to stay in there until you look like a raisin.
However, the little smile on your lips fade; your schemes have been torn and tossed to the bin. You crack one eye open, and it drifts towards the ajar door, the steps growing louder from the other side. You can put a face by the heaviness, the pace, the confidence, and you sigh when the hinges squeak.
“Your hand won’t fall off by knocking,” you scoff and then pop a half smile. What if I walk in while you taking a shit?”
“That won’t happen.” A smirk plays on his lips as he drags the stool next to the tub. “I never forget locking my doors.”
“You’re ruining my solo moment,” you pout and stick the tongue out, crossing your arms over the chest.
“Is it a fun solo moment?” One of his eyebrows rises, and his dimple meets daylight. He reaches a lock of your hair, birls it gingerly and twirls it like a spring around his finger.
“Sorry, but not, it’s not that kind of fun, Levi.” You wink. Without taking his eyes off you, his hand falls to your shoulder and remains there, lazily whisking, oblivious to the tingles and fire he stokes in you. You part your lips to talk, but instead, your eyes fidget around as your mind tries to dump icy water on the flames. And you’re here naked, in a so compromising position. Things can’t get worse. Now all your dignity relies on the thin layer of foam.
In fact, you want them to get worse.
But it seems Levi has thrown you to the friendzone, or the sisterzone.
His linen shirt is half open, letting you steal tiny peeks of his chiseled-by-gods chest; his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, veins crawling along his forearms. His hair is swept back, except for a few unmoored locks flicking over his forehead. His cheeks ruddy, and not by the incandescence of the sun.
“You’ve been drinking.”
“Only a pewter. Bumped with Miche and Moblit on my way here.” A finger makes its wat to your chin, and he tips your face up, scrutinizing you. Something you hate. You can feel the heaviness of his gaze rummaging through you.
“What’s bugging you?” He probes. Life ruthlessness to him has hardened his exterior and sensitized his interior like a raw-boned dog twitching his nose at the faintest smell of food. To survive, you need to focus on details.
Your eyebrows plunge into a scowl. “You.” Water sprinkles on his face, and he snaps away, wrinkling his nose. “You’re interrupting my bath.” You growl. But he doesn’t leave. No trace of irritation is embedded on his brows when his eyes drift back to you. Golden light peeking through the tiny window graces his features, sculpting his face in marble, and you notice something you’d never appreciated before.
He looms forward. One of his hands dangles from the wood rim while the other lazily coaxes whirlpools, moving dangerously close to your skin, and even though the foam is fading, you don’t stop him. You feel the waves crashing against the stretchmarks gnarling across your breasts.
You tilt your head, bringing your knees to your chest, huddling like a grounded child. “He dumped me, Levi.” You utter. The coil in your chest untangles; for the first time in weeks you breathe, and at the same time, you feel like hiding and crying. You gaze down, enthralled in the pattern he draws, and mindlessly seek his hand. His fingers intertwined with yours, and for a brief moment, it all feels right.
They fit.
And that scares you.
You try to pry off, but he chases your hand and tightens his grip.
“What happened?” His voice is diaphanous, yet he can’t hide the uneasiness.
You shrug. “I guess… I wasn’t as lady like as he expected me to be. You know, wifey material.”
“Bullshit.” He fiddles with your fingers, tipping his head by a fraction, and raises an eyebrow.
“I hate you right now.”
He shakes his head and extricates from you, resting his wrist at the rim of the bathtub, and watches you, sweeping his tongue between his lips. “I’m just worried.”
You heave a sigh that blows off a lock of hair off your face and lean against the head of the tub, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. You breathe in and when you muster the energy you need, your hand falls from your face, your eyes crash with his. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” You shift your body until the water whisks your chin, folding your arms over your knees. “I dumped him, Levi.”
And even though he knows he shouldn’t be feeling that way, his heart beats with respite.
“He hit me.” You say stolidly as if it were a trivial fact.
His eyes bang open, and his insides rot with unbridled anger. His lips are pressed into a white slash, gray irises trembling, his grip threatening to rip the bathtub. You have triggered an implosion; you can see the echo of the fireball glinting in his eyes and oozing through every pore.
“Do I go on?” You suck on your bottom lip, averting his flaring gaze.
“You do.” He says with a throat-scourging gulp.
“Don’t forget your promise.”
“I promised no shit. If I need to break some arms and legs, I will.”
“Always so delicate.” You roll your eyes.
“Tell me.”
“He got drunk.”
“That’s no fucking excuse.”
“I know. I know. It’s just… he’s nice, he really is, when sober, but I’d never seen him intoxicated like that, he turned into someone else. I found him at the bar around for bells and beg him to go back home, but he wasn’t there, I mean, not mentally, and anger with alcohol doesn’t go well together. He slapped me so hard I fell on my butt and scratched my hands.” You exhale for a pause and tip your head back. Your chin wobbles, crackling your voice. “We got home and as soon as the front door closed, he grabbed my hair and yanked me to the couch, not giving me time to recoil. Then, his hand was around my neck, and he towed me back on my feet. He said horrible things I don’t want to say…” you sniff, and run a hand down your face, tears and water trickle down your cheeks. “I… I was scared and helpless. I froze. He tore off my clothes and pushed me down on the couch. I wanted to scream, but I just couldn’t… then I saw him pulling his pants down…and…” You roll your head from side to side following the curve of the rim. “He was too drunk, it… didn’t work. You know… and when he left a gap open, I managed to escape.” You snort. “He lost his balance, fell and ended up snoozing in the middle of the living room.” You sob and rub a hand on your nose. “That’s it.” You look at him with glassy eyes. “Nothing happened.”
“Nothing happened?” He grinds his teeth, his chest heaves, smoldering with rage.
“Levi.” Your hand lands on the back of his and squeezes it. “Just leave it.”
But he reels closer to you and settles his idle hand on your cheek, his warmth spreading, giving you a respite. The solace you needed, the first beam of sunlight caressing your face in a winter morning. A tear rolls down, and he wipes it away; you close your eyes and nuzzle against his palm.
“Tell me where he lives.” He seethes, and you shake your head.
“I don’t know where to find him, I don’t even want to find him.”
“If that piece of shit and I ever cross paths, I’m fucking gonna–“
He cuts his sentence when you turn your head away.
“Thank you, and sorry for not telling you before.”
“Don’t be.”
“I was scared.”
“I know.” He presses a feather-like kiss on your temple and whispers in your hair, “you know you can count on me, always. And you did the right thing.” He pulls away, and you give him a timid smile. A tiny blush creeps on your cheeks.
“You smell good,” you say. “You always do.”
“Tch.” He jerks his face away. A warm, annoying tingle crawls from his cheeks to his ears, and he can’t stop twiddling with his fingers.
“Look at me.”
He sighs, and his shoulders hunch. Tipping his chin up, he scratches a fake itch under his jaw and when he meets your face, only an inch away from his, steam oozes from his ears. His eyes pop and all his neurons freak out, looking for the emergency break. They better find it soon before his heart bangs to a halt, and his system collapses.
“I didn’t know you had freckles.” You chuckle, and he lets that pretty sound nest in his heart next to your laugh, and the way you roll his name on your tongue. Yes, he has a collection, and hopes one day to open a museum of you, maybe your smile should be at the beginning of the exposition.
You’re fucking pathetic, jerk.
His jittery lips part, but nothing comes out. His brain is a mesh that can’t string anything coherent. So close, yet so far. He can feel your breath fanning on his lips as you toy with his hair. But the tinge of self-restrain holds him down in place. If you knew he sometimes drink form your cup to get an idea of how you taste…
“Levi. Levi!” A finger snaps bursts before his face, and he blinks waking up from his reverie. “Wanna see me naked or what?”
“Yes! No! What?”
“My towel, dummy.” You point to the rack. “Could you hand it over and get out?” Levi groans and rake his fingers through his hair before getting on his feet. He snatches the towel from the nail and before you can thank him, the world turns off, blinded by the thick serviette.
Levi stomps to your room, kicking your clothes off the way, grunting, not for your carelessness but the strain against his pants. Maybe some sprints and push ups will divert blood to other tissues.
“Thank you.” You sarcastically remark as you dodge into the room, your arms popping out of the sleeves of your oversized white T. “At least a corner was left dry.” You pad to your vanity, while a flustered Levi averts his eyes, trying to focus on something else rather than your legs. Why did you pick those tiny shorts? “You’re too slow.” He retorts and plops face down on your bed, hiding the scorching blush and his growing erection.
You unclip the pins, and your mane unfurls over your shoulders like a warp and weft that traps the bristles of your brush. You grumble, losing the fight.
“Give me that!” The blurry edges of his face smooth down on the mirror, and surly, you hold the brush over your shoulder.
“Start by the ends.” You perch your feet at the edge of the chair and wind your arms under your knees.
“Brat.”
He catches your scowl through the mirror and sticks out the tongue. Smoothly and silkily, his fingers slip through your untangled curls, and as he reaches the middles, you can feel him grazing your scalp with gossamer strokes; it’s lulling, and eventually you begin dozing off. Your weariness sinks into a sigh, and your eyelids give up. “You feel good, Levi.” In another context, he would’ve exploded right there. He cranes closer, too close to imbibe the fading strawberries and rosemary of your shampoo.
“Levi.”
“Uh?”
“When were you planning to tell me?” You mumble.
He tilts his head, and a querulous look etches in his brows.
“Tell you what?”
You’ve been putting it up for weeks, afraid that the answer might break your heart, and it hurts too that your best friend can’t confide his love life to you. What are best friends for then?
You open your eyes, and they stumble upon his.
“I mean…” You trail, take a deep breath, and spew it. Either he plucks the thorn, or he hammers it deeper. “Who is she? Do I know her?”
“Who are you talking about?”
“I saw the ring. It wasn’t my intention, I sweat.” You raise your palms in the air and hurl them down again. “I was looking for a candle in one of your drawers and found it… She’s lucky.” You blush at that, hating yourself for exposing your green-eyed monster. You have no right, yet you couldn’t help it.
“Are you jealous?” His snort and smirk feed your irritation, you set your lips into a thin line, and hide your face in your knees. “There’s no she, Y/N.” He sets the brush down.
“Is it a he?” Your head lurches up, and you stare at him wide eyed.
“What?”
“What?”
“There’s no one.” He huffs and flicks a finger on your temple.
“Ow!”
“Then–“
“It belonged to my mother.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. That’s what you get for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He plants a kiss where he had just hit you, swivels around and scuffs to the door, but you don’t follow him.
“Not having dinner?” He casts a look over his shoulder and takes his hand off the knob.
“I’m more tired than hungry.” You traipse to the bed without bothering to muzzle a yawn, stretching your arms over your head. “I think I’m sleeping twelve hours straight.” The mattress sags under your weight, your legs bent, knees pointing upward. The flannel of your shorts rumple at where your thighs fuse to the curve of your butt.
Nibbling on his lip, Levi shoves his hands into his pockets and curls them into fists, making more room to alleviate the repression. “I have work to do,” he says, rocking on his heels and gazing down.
“No.”
“Uh?”
Maybe he should stop uh-ing.
“Stay.” You turn your head in his direction. “I’ll help you with paperwork tomorrow. Please.”
“Do you want me to stay?” His chin is tucked against his chest, only his eyes rise, and you prop yourself on your elbows.
“I do.”
“Isn’t it too early to go to bed?”
You shrug. “We could just lie here.” You shift your weight up and make room for him in your single bed. “I hope you don’t mind sharing pillow.”
A weak smile peeks on his lips as he shakes his head. You fling the covers; he scuffs off his shoes and crawls in, wriggling himself until your shoulders touch.
Your sheets smell like you.
Specks of dust dance on the golden glow creeping through the window. The room is warm, and silence hovers over, giving way to the soft murmur of the breeze and your steady breathing.
“Wake me up at eight.” You nudge his foot with your toe. “I’ll bridge the gap to dinner with a nap.” Your hands thread on your belly, and you close your eyes. “Levi, you’re a great friend.” You say.
A stab right in the chest would’ve been less painful.
He slips a hand beneath his head, his cotton-clad feet swinging in and out, wishing it was more than your shoulders touching. He wants to touch you everywhere. Everywhere. His ears are in flames.
Stop thinking with your dick, asshole.
“Levi, are you awake?” You whisper.
“Uh-huh.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
“You hardly do.”
“I know, but this time it’s different.” Usually, it’s the fear to see death in his dreams that keeps him awake; but this is the first time in years he can’t sleep out of excitement, the last time, his mother brought cake for his birthday.
“It’s hard…when a pretty girl is lying by your side.” He coyly says.
“What’s hard?”
“Sleep, but that’s not the only thing hard right now.”
“Are you stoned? Or did you catch a brain eating bacteria?” You elbow him on the arm.
“What?”
“You called me pretty, didn’t you? And you said you’re having an erection.”
“Yeah.” He scratches his head. “I think I did.”
“It just doesn’t make sense! The nicest thing you’ve ever said to me is that my lashes look like your horse’s. What did they put in your drink?” Your head is turned facing his. But a scowl grazes his features; he clicks his tongue and rolls over, his back facing you. “Leave me alone.” He grunts.
“This is my bed, Levi.” Your fingertips languidly pat your sternum. You want to reach out for him, kiss his head, snuggle your face and smell his hair, or taste it. So black it must be liquorice flavored. His eyebrows and eyelashes too. He’s recoiled in a fetal position, trying to capture and burn the butterflies in his belly. You don’t know what a sweet torture it is like when you roll his name in your tongue. The way you honey it. You’ve been using it too much today.
“Levi.”
There it goes again.
“I want to kiss you.”
Luckily you can’t see the stupid face he pulls out. He nuzzles in his bit of pillow, and his voice comes out in a hardly decoding slur. “I want to kiss you too.” But for you is loud and clear, or maybe is what your brain wants to hear.
“Why don’t we?” Your hands clutch into fists, and all your body tenses. One little question, harmless for others, might ruin what you have built. Years of friendship slipping through the gaps of your fingers like water. You chew the inside of your cheek and turn over on your side, bracing for his reaction.
The mattress slumps and wavers under his weight, and when his nose bumps with yours, a quiet contentment spreads through your chest. Tea lingers in his shaky breath, and a trembling hand flies to your cheek, he studies your eyes and this time you don’t hate it, instead, the vail falls, you open the door.
His steel gray orbs glint, white flecks dancing on them like stars glittering on the lake; his heart bangs in his chest as if it’d eventually breach out to meet yours.
The edges of your world narrow to his silhouette.
Nothing else matters.
An invisible blanket of mutual adoration wraps around you.
It’s you and him and the mingle of vanilla, black tea and lavender.
In a flick, his eyes land on your lips, you’re moistening them in anticipation, and in a wordless agreement, you both slowly lean in, watching each other’s reaction until your mouths lock for the first time in an awkward, bumbling peck. You don’t even close your eyes; you don’t know what to do with your hands, they’re clinging to the hem of your shorts, expecting. But his eyes close first as his lips hover over yours, tender and shy like a preteen kissing his crush for the first time. And it’s perfect. You pull apart and clasp his cheeks in your hands, letting out a string of giddy giggles; he laughs too, his cheeks suffused with an impossible red that contrasts against his pallor. His freckles get lost in the blobs of sheepishness. It’s an alien feeling to him, to let someone in this far. But he loves the tickling in is stomach and hands, the lightness in his chest, and the warmth grazing his cheeks. It’s frightening and beautiful.
“That was awful.” You quip.
“I know, but we can try again.”
And you bring his face to yours as his hands make their way to your waist and pull your closer to his body. Your lips crash, and this time they mold and move in a sloppy, teeth-clashing, perfectly imperfect kiss.
And it feels right.
But your body craves more.
Panting, you reel away, and your hands slide to his chest, drinking the reckless beat of his heart through the weave.
“I want… I want to touch more of you, Levi.” You coo, blushing, as your fingers traipse to the first button.
“I want more than touching you.” He breathes.
“Is that you trying to say you want to fuck me?”
He grins. “I tried to be decent, but yes. I’m glad you grasped the idea. But… we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
All you want is to make love to him.
You feel his thumbs stroking your hipbone over the clothes, “Just kiss me now before I change my mind.”
Men asking for consent makes them one hundred times hotter. You want to curl against him, to mold with him like the Valdaro lovers you read about. As wicked as it sounds.
You open his shirt and run your palms over his chest and abs, muscles rippling under your touch. “You’re so good, Levi.” You say without taking your lusty eyes of his sculpted body, stealing a snort form him.
“Stop objectifying me.”
“I’m not.” You trace his edges and ridges, the scars etched on his skin. “A little, yes.”
You feel him tugging at your shirt. “So…” One eyebrow climbs up. “Can I?”
A chuckle bubbles out your mouth, putting a coyly smile on your lips as you seek another kiss. A gasp melts in your mouth as your daring hand caresses him over his clothes. How can he think with all his blood mustered down there?
You peel off by a fraction and look him in the eye. “Yes Levi, you have my permission to–“
He cuts you with a kiss and tears away from you. “Should I close the windows?” His voice comes out huskier than ever, and you thought it couldn’t get hotter. His notes and waves ripple straight to your core.
“No,” you say, skimming his chest. “I want to see you.”
“Great.” Another smirk creeps on his lips. Great, because he too wants to see how he disappears in your body. He hisses by picturing it; all the nights he thought about you in indecent ways.
He brings his lips to your ear, but what has been pricking his heart for years doesn’t come out.
“What?” you venture, tracing an invisible line along the bridge of his nose.
“Nothing.”
“Now you have me intrigued.”
“You’re beautiful.” He lightly pinches your cheek between his knuckles while his other hand sneaks under your shirt, breaking goosebumps, and shivers on your skin.
You flinch.
“You don’t like that?”
You shake the head. “I’m just nervous.”
“Me too.” He confesses. “If you want to stop, just tell me.”
You tug at the collar of his shirt and urge him. “Take this off.”
He laughs and tows himself up into a sitting position, and so you do. Levi has a pretty laugh, and you wish you could hear it more often.
Levi shrugs his shirt off, and you slip off yours as well, rumpling it before your breasts, blushing hard and looking away. It’s not the first time a man sees you naked, but before him, you feel more self-conscious.
He scoots closer so your knees are touching, and you snap your face back at him. His hands fondling your shoulders. “Let me see you,” he whispers and brushes your hair off. Adrenaline, fear, desire rushing through your veins, sizzling your fingers and toes, and you finally drop the meddlesome piece of fabric.
You want him to see you. To discover you; to choose you; to reinvent you.
“You’re beautiful.” He coos.
You feel his scorching fingertips striding down past your collarbones, still hesitating, but you take his hands in yours and guide him to your breasts. “Touch me.” Your words teeter in your mouth. You let him explore by himself and close your eyes, your hands anchored to his waist. He strokes gently as if you were the most delicate china set, afraid to hurt you.
Soft moans seep past your lustrous lips as he rolls and tweak your nipples in his fingers. Your head falls backward, and through leaden eyes you cast a glance at him, smiling, and he smiles back. Ruby hues tinting his cheeks.
Heartbeats bang behind your ears. The itching in your neck, a pang of pudency across your chest, teeth sinking in your bottom lip; sweaty hands, reckless mind, nails raking his waist.
“Levi.” You moan his name as he takes one pebbled nipple in his mouth, and that sound goes straight to his private collection. He laves and sucks and nibbles while his fingers pepper the other nub, he will never grow tired of cajoling those pretty sounds.
A string of drool snaps, smearing his chin as he goes for the other nipple, and the air feels cool, crashing against the glistening one. “Levi,” Your back arches, begging for more. You roll your hips to nothing with unbridled eagerness, and he chuckles, draping his arms around you, nuzzling his face between your breasts, pushing you down on your back. The bulge in his pants strains against you indecorously, and he rocks his hips, seeking alleviation. “Fuck, this is how hard you get me.” He groans and press a kiss on your chin.
You love it, you love being desire this bad.
His skin melting with yours, your hearts beating with the same frenzy.
“Let’s do something about it then.” You shove your fingers through his hair and tip his face to meet his eyes.
“I want to taste you first.” You can feel his fingers tracing the waistline of your shorts; one anchors to the hem, dragging it back and forth, waiting for your reaction. “I bet you’re damn wet already.”
“Why don’t you find out?” Your fingertips caress his temples.
“You’re gonna make me come in my pants.”
“How old are you?”
“Shut up.”
You raise your hips, and with a quick move, he pulls your bottoms down. He kneels, slips them off your feet and toss them away. Damn. He feels a twitch under his pants; damn, he can’t take his eyes off you. The musk and sweetness of your scent is driving him mad like a man who has fasted for months. He plants a kiss on your knee and wedges between your legs.
He kisses you as if his purpose were to tear off your lips, moans, whimpers and groans coalescing in your mouths you can’t tell whose is whose. He breaks apart and blesses your eyelids, your nose and your cheeks, kisses trailing down from your ear to your chin. He wants to pitch his flag in every inch of your skin. Your hands; he kisses the tip of each finger, pampers your arms, your shoulders, your chest, the valley between your breasts, your navel, your mound. He spreads your knees and kisses the crease where your legs meet your hips, your thighs, tickles spreading across your flesh as he goes down, your shins and calves, your ankles, and heels to the tip of your toes. Then his hands roam to the back of your knees. He yanks your legs over his shoulders, and you watch him, parting your folds with his tongue, making your jaw drop with a moan.
Like cats, people look for dark, vailed places to have sex, but you choose to do it in plain daylight when the late afternoon sun still percolates through the windows. You didn’t want to miss any details, like the creases on his forehead or the way his eyes are black instead of gray.
“What?” He sweeps his tongue along his dewy lips.
You prop on one elbow. “You look pretty.” You say, swinging your head kittenishly, and taking a piece of his hair between your fingers. “Le–“ His name is sheared by gasp, and your eyes close to slivers. His tongue probing around the hood.
“You look prettier like that.” His lips curve against your slit and he continues savoring you as if you were the ripest peach. The view obscenely beautiful. He doesn’t even take his eyes off you, reading every reaction. Your dull eyes, your parted lips, your erratic breathing, and the way your chest rises and falls, the muscles across your belly twitching, sweat pampering your cheeks. You plop back and clutch fistfuls of the sheets, your knuckles white and tensed as his tongue and lips work wonder, you can feel it building in your core, your entrance clenching, begging to be filled, and that’s when the tension snaps. Your hips lurch up and still.
No one has ever made you feel so light, no one has ever put your pleasure first.
His weight hovers over your body. His tongue coaxes his entrance to your mouth, muskiness and sweetness bristling up your taste buds.
You squeeze his butt, and he reels away. “Take your pants off,” you mutter. “Fuck me. Now.” Kiss. “I need you.” He looks so beautiful, his rosy-tinted cheeks, his heavy-lidded eyes, the shine on his lips, the way he gazes down at you as if you were the most precious thing worth of her own temple.
He leaps of the bed and kicks his pants off, sighing in relief. Yes, everything in Levi is beautiful, beautiful. He’s built like a god. That holy V-line pointing down, the thin line of hair crawling down from beneath his bellybutton, and that pretty cock. Thick, reddish and throbbing… He takes himself in a hand, and you make grabby hands and puppy eyes. Chuckling, he crawls back to the bed, making room for himself between your legs.
“I want your cock in my pussy.” You rake your fingers down his chest. You should consider write poetry. So blatant and effective like him. When you spend a big part of your day everyday next to someone, you start learning them and adopting some of their traits. Molding them for you.
“I still remember when you couldn’t say shit without getting all flustered?”
“Levi, I’m not in the mood to talk about shit.” Your fingers burrow in his butt and squeeze, pulling him toward you, but he doesn’t move an inch. “Please.” You flit your lashes and smile, bucking your hips to chase him, but he jerks back.
“Don’t be an ass, Levi. You fucking want it too.” Your hands sweep up, taking in the squirm of his muscles, and meet behind his neck, your thumbs stroking the spots under his ears. “I don’t have as much self-restrain as you do.” He leans and kisses you, stealing a gasp as he positions himself, you can feel him poking around your entrance, and your brace for it. Moans mingle in the kiss as he pushes forward, reveling in the tightness, in the warmth and in you. He wants to feel every inch swaddling him, how good you take him. You’re trembling, not because of pain, no; it is because of the way your body molds for his. And when he can’t go any further, he stills. His staggered breaths brushing the pulsing spot on your neck.
“I can’t believe I’m in love with you.” His voice crackles between syllables as if he’s been tucking those words for so long and finally manages to take them out of the chest. When the world turned its back on him, you were the haven of the possible. You knew how to caress him until it didn't hurt, and you stayed by his side those nights when he wished he could sleep and never wake up. You taught him about slow love, you accompanied him through the sadness, one day at a time. And one ordinary day became extraordinary. The day he understood that he loved you. That you had slipped through the cracks in his heart and stayed forever. He never kicked you out. And he will never let you go. If he weren't a coward, that piece of crap would've never hurt you. That same day, he delved into the drawer of nostalgies, grab the necklace that once belonged to his mother and cast it. The moon-shaped pendant gave way to a ring in which he kept all the hope of someday losing his fear and being able to slip it on your finger.
You lie there, wide-eyed and limp, tears swelling in your bottom lash line as you process what you just heard. Levi… Levi is in love with you.
He holds himself up on his elbows, and concern mixed with embarrassment spreads in his eyes. He clears his throat. “This is where you laugh, and I say it was a joke.” You shake your head, your hands curving to his waist.
“If it was a joke, I’ll kill you. Because I feel the same way, Levi.” All your fears to say those words dwindle. “I love you too.” tickles in the tip of your tongue.
The corners of his lips quirk up. His mouth locks on yours before you can see the tears forming in his eyes, and he starts to move. Patient and yearning with every thrust. So, this is what it feels like to love, to have sex with more than just your body. You long to fuse with him, for your skin to melt with every crease of him, your sweat and his sweat brewing ambrosia. You drink his scent, something like sandalwood blended with bergamot. Your fingers trickling down his back like soft drops of rain.
His face separates from you by a wedge, his fingers trailing down your jaw until they perch on your chin. He rocks his hips faster, and mutters against one corner of your lips, “you deserve no less than this.” Your legs wrap around his waist, imprisoning him, “nothing less.”
Squeezing tight your eyes, your face turns to the side, your nails barking red lines down his back. Your walls flutter around him, wringing out a groan from his lips. Your body arches against him, and his name breaks past your lips in a loud moan.
“I’m… too,” he mutters as he tries to pry your leg off him, but you only tighten your hold. “Fuck Y/N.” He hisses. His eyes twitch, his nose scrunches. You always wonder what his orgasm face looked like. You thought he’d roll his eyes.
He pushes in one last thrust, still swaddled by the cloud of pleasure, oblivious to the potential consequences. And when it disintegrates, his eyes fill with apprehension.
“You sure?” He worriedly pants, and you nod.
“It’s ok.”
His hair is tickling your face. But you can’t stop looking at him. Your eyes always follow him, no matter what trivial thing he’s doing. You could be a fly on his wall to look at him every day.
“Say it again, Levi.”
“What?”
“That you love me.”
“But I already said it,” he groans and falls at your side. You roll onto your belly, fold your hands on his chest and roost your chin on them. Your knees bend so that your heels almost touch your lovely ass. “I want to hear them again.”
It was easier when pleasure was buzzing beneath his skin.
He turns his head away and tucks a hand beneath his nape, “Love you.” He spews plainly.
You frown. “Say it like you mean it. Look at me and say it again.”
“Tch.” His finger brush circles on your shoulder. “Clear your ears cause I’m not repeating myself.” He flicks his eyes to you. “Our names are carved in the ring.”
Content: Nearly 3.7k words showing some of your most recent Christmas, and a long flashback of how you got there.
Extras: Another piece for @levi-supreme Happy Birthday Levi event! This got a little longer than I realized and I teared up a couple times writing it! I hope you love it!!
"We did it!" Your daughter giggles happily as her father places her back down.
He's just helped hold her up to put the star on top of your six foot Christmas tree.
"It looks beautiful!" You say, coming to hug them both. Levi kisses you softly and smiles.
"We still have more to do!" Your seven year old is always very excited for the Christmas season. Not because of the toys, although that helps, but because of the lights and the magic, the movies and the music, the yummy foods, and the family time.
"Grandma Kuchel is coming over tomorrow to help, don't worry." Levis mom loves coming to see you. She dotes on all of you and spoils her granddaughter and even her new grandpup that you got at the shelter earlier in the year.
"Yay!" She loves her grandma and runs to hug her doggy who barks and plays with her.
You and Levi smile at the happy sight.
"I love you." He whispers, pulling you close.
"I love you too." You share another sweet kiss in front of your Christmas tree, before reaching to adjust a small gold star ornament.
It's taken a long time to get here, it hasn't always been easy, but it's been worth it.
"Daddy! Read to me!" Your little one is a daddies girl, and it warms your heart to see them together.
She goes to pick out a Christmas book, which is tradition for Levi to read the night you put up your tree.
You make mugs of hot chocolate for each of you and all go into the living room.
Levi gives the dog a chew toy so he'll settle in and the pup takes it to his bed in the corner.
As you and your daughter snuggle on the couch, Levi pulls out one of the many fleece blankets in the closet and comes to put it over you.
"Thank you sweetheart." You look at him fondly as he sits down with you both and picks up the book.
Just as he's about to start reading your daughter stops him.
"Daddy, why do you always wrap mommy in a blanket?" She notices he does this a lot, and even though you have blankets, every year he gets you another one.
"So she never gets cold, my little snowflake." Levi smiles at you as you brush his hair back.
She looks between the two of you, not quite understanding.
"Are you sick?" She asks you in a concerned voice.
"No my sweet girl. It's just, there was a time we didn't have this many blankets." You hug her.
"So you were cold?" She looks up at you.
"A little, but daddy was always there to keep me warm." You share a smile.
"Everything is fine now, so let's listen to daddy read, okay?" You two hold each other as Levi takes a sip of hot chocolate and begins.
"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse" Levi reaches over and touches your daughters nose, making her giggle.
You smile and get lost in thought as Levi continues.
FLASHBLACK
Ten Years Ago
It's December, and you look around your tiny apartment, sighing that you barely have enough money to keep the electric on, so there's no way you can afford decorations.
It's your first year as a married couple. You thought it would be better than this. You've tried so hard but, times are tough.
You don't like to bother friends or family, because they have their own things to deal with.
You hear the door unlock and your husband comes in from work, taking his coat off.
"Levi!" You skip over to him and lean into his hug. Even if everything isn't going right, as long as you are together, the future is bright.
"Hi love, how was your day?" He asks, kissing you.
You bite you lip and he notices. "It's okay, tell me." He leads you to the small couch.
"They cut my hours back at work again." You hate to tell him this. You are part time already, and it's a seasonal job, but apparently they hired too much help.
Levi sighs and holds you. "It's okay. Don't worry. We'll be okay."
Levi closes his eyes and tries to believe this. You went into marriage thinking putting both your funds together would work nicely.
You had a beautiful wedding with friends and family, and an even better honeymoon. Everything was perfect.
But then you came back home, and things started to fall apart.
Old student debts, a couple minor but important medical problems, the car breaking down, a rent increase.
It's been one thing after another and no matter how hard you try, something else always comes up.
Levis mother has tried to help out but you don't want to make things hard for her. Same with your family.
So instead Levi picked up a second job while you tried to at least keep the one you had while finding another, but everyone wants a job right now.
So some nights you've made less food, you've sold some wedding presents that though you wanted, didn't necessarily need. And though it's getting colder, you purposely don't put the heat up as much as you'd like.
You try not to cry but Levi senses it.
He pulls back and holds you cheeks. "I promise, everything will be fine."
You nod and sniffle. "I know. I just want it to be better now." You move closer and rest your head on his chest. Your happy place.
He plays with your hair and watches you move up and down on his chest as he breathes.
"You know what we need? A Christmas tree." He says suddenly, surprising you.
"But we don't even have dinner!" Your logical side says.
He chuckles and kisses your forehead. "Come on, trust me."
And of course you do. So you both put on your sweaters and get the car running and he drives.
You see the tank nearing empty and frown.
"Stop that." Levi reaches out to hold your hand as he drives.
You put on the radio to Christmas music and listen to Frank Sinatra sing you Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
Next year all our troubles, will be out of sight"
You squeeze Levis hand as you wish it were next year.
Levi pulls into a Christmas tree lot and you look around, smelling the fesh pine scent.
"We'll have to keep it small." He tells you, and you nod.
"Thats okay." You don't mind. You're actually feeling a little more optimistic already.
Holding hands and looking at all different ones and seeing what's in your budget, you settle on a pretty nice four foot tree that will fit just fine in your house.
Levi pays and loads it up and you get back in the car. "And look, some money for decorations." He leans over to kiss you as you smile.
You go to the store and pick out the cheapest lights you can find. All blue, but they look pretty. You pick out red garland as well and a tree skirt.
"This will do." You don't want to overspend on all the individual ornaments when you could use this money elsewhere.
You put the things in the car and on the way out notice an elderly gentleman not looking well off, playing a guitar and using his case for tips.
You go to stand by him and Levi comes over to you, kissing your cheek.
You pull out a few dollars and throw one into the case for the man.
He thanks you and you nod, getting back into the car and closing your eyes.
"That's a nice thing you did, love."
You start to sob suddenly and Levi leans over to comfort you. "It's okay, let it out."
"I feel so stupid. I keep thinking we aren't doing well because I can't even make you a decent dinner but here we have enough money to get a tree and that man has to sit outside in the cold and ask for it!"
You wet his shirt with your tears as he holds you. "We're going to be okay." He promises you.
You pull back and wipe your eyes and nod. "I know." You let out a sigh. "Thank you."
He kisses your forehead. "Come on, let's grab a little something, we've both had a long day." He holds your hand again as he drives to a tiny diner and you pick up a meal that's for one person.
"I don't mind being cold at night sometimes, but we have to eat." You say once your inside and have the meal on the table.
You scrounge around for some other food and see some vegetables that would go nicely and bread that isn't yet expired and end up making enough with that and the warm meal you bought to be enough for both of you.
"See? You make wonderful meals." Levi encourages you and you smile, thankful for him.
You sit and eat by candle light to save on the electric and it's pretty cozy. You eat well tonight and go to put up your tree.
You flip the light switch so you can admire it and gasp. "It's beautiful!" You love the green, blue and red. It's your perfect little Christmas tree.
Levi holds you in his arms and kisses you.
"Thank you." You say, resting on his chest as you look at the tree.
"You're welcome, love." He kisses your forehead, and soon after pulls you to bed.
He folds the blanket twice and wraps you in it, while he takes the sheet.
"I don't want you to be cold." You say, holding him tight.
"Don't you worry about me. You just hold me and keep me warm." He smiles as you nod and try to move your weight onto him.
You exchange soft 'I love you's as you drift off to sleep.
Levi wakes in the morning, kissing your sleeping form, knowing you don't have to wake up yet.
He's a little cold but not freezing, and you seem pretty warm still.
He starts to get ready for work, wondering if there's any extra side jobs he can do.
Last night he dipped into the money he wanted to use to buy you something nice with that tree. But you needed it, and he was happy to give it to you.
After making sure you're still sound asleep, he locks up and heads to work, stopping to use a few dollars to fill the gas some.
He makes a cup of tea at work before his shift. It's not great but at least this way he doesn't use your water or electric.
His phone rings suddenly and it's his mother calling.
"Mom, what are you doing up this early?" He asks.
"I know you've been working long hours and wanted to say hello." She tells him.
He smiles. He loves talking to her.
"How are you Levi? How's my daughter in law? I'd like to see you soon." She isn't far away but knows you've been trying to adjust to married life.
"We're getting by." He says vaguely, and Kuchel catches the way he says it.
"Levi, what's wrong?" She asks in her mom way that says not to lie to her.
Levi sighs. "We're just a little behind on bills. Things are kind of tough. She lost some hours at her job and is worrying." Levi doesn't mention not eating properly or being cold at night, but he doesn't have to.
"Honey! You need to call me! I can help you." Kuchel cannot believe he hasn't told her sooner. All she knows if you two are very happy together.
"I don't want to bother you! I'm.. I'm really trying here mom." He let's his voice crack. All he wants to do is take care of you like you deserve, and not have to have someone come to the rescue.
"You keep trying your best. I know you both are, don't worry. And don't be afraid to say something!" She says sternly.
"Okay.. um. Look I'll pay you back, but can I borrow a little money? For gas and to get her something nice? I'll figure the rest out." He hates having to ask this of her.
"Of course! I'll drive over later before you get off. She doesn't need to know. And I'll bring you a nice homemade meal. You say you got it at your work party." Kuchel thinks of anything she can do for you.
"Okay. Thank you. I should go clock in now, I'm a little late. But, I really appreciate this." She's the best mother he could ever ask for. And he will pay her back.
"You go to work, don't worry about anything. I love you." Kuchel hangs up and starts planning.
At home you wake up and text Levi 'Good morning' not expecting anything back yet as you know he's working.
You fold the blanket and put on your robe and flip the switch to go look at your Christmas tree.
You sit there for a while and look around your apartment. It isn't much, things are difficult, but it's yours, yours and Levis.
Since your hours were cut back you don't have much to do today, and yet are feeling good.
You go for a walk in town and say hello to people and look at all the nice things in display windows.
You see an older woman carrying packages and go to assist her.
"Thank you dear! Would you help me upstairs?" She asks, and you nod.
You help her set the things on her table. It's a nice place. She has a grand Christmas tree.
"Thank you. Oh! I forgot to mail this darn letter!" She pulls it out of a bag.
"Oh, I can go." You offer. You pass a mailbox on the way and don't want her to go out again.
"Would you? That would be such a help. If it's not too much trouble, give this list to the bakery next door."
She gives you a list a page long.
"My family is coming for Christmas." She explains.
"That's nice. Anything else I can do?" It makes you feel good to be useful.
"I think that's all. I appreciate it. What's your name?" She asks, and you tell her.
"What a nice name. Do you have a fella?" She digs around in her purse.
"I do." You smile.
"That's nice dear. I hope you're very happy."
You nod, and she hands you another envelope.
"It's not another letter, it's for you. Do with it what you want. Thank you."
She sends you on your way with the letter, list and envelope, and you drop the things off like she's asked.
You stand on a side street and open the envelope. There's a thank you note.
"Thank you for your kindness.
It goes further than you think.
We never know what someone is going through.
I wish you all the happiness.
Here's a little something to brighten your day."
You dig in the envelope again and there's a little money inside and a small gold star Christmas ornament.
You smile and sigh happily. It's enough to do a little something with, and truly make your day brighter.
You think of the man playing guitar last night and hope the small contribution you made, made a difference.
Later in the day Levi has visited his mom and she's given him a little money, some food, and a bunch of hope.
"And don't you dare keep things from me!" She smacks his arm lightly, and he promises not to.
"What's that wonderful smell?" Levi walks into the house that smells of spices as he carries his own bags.
Today, when you greet him, you are in a much better mood than yesterday.
"Levi!" You stop your cooking to help him put his things down. "What's all this?"
He kisses you and tells you the truth. "Mom came by. I didn't ask for much but she insisted. Mothers intuition, I guess."
You look at the pans of homemade food and grin and laugh happily, hugging him.
"She's so wonderful! I had a good day too!" You smile.
"I see, what's that amazing smell?"
"We have soup in the pot and veggies roasting in the oven. It's enough for days! I even got some fresh apples and oranges. Now we have too much food!" What a good problem to have.
You tell him about your day and the women you met.
"She was very kind. I used some of the money and bought what was on sale to make this, donated a few dollars to a childrens fund, and we still have some money aside for bills! Not much, but it'll help." You say positively.
Levi holds your cheeks and kisses your mouth. "See? We're okay."
You smile and hug him as you finish dinner.
You eat very well that night and put leftovers in containers to keep fresh for the coming days.
Afterwards you pull out the little star ornament and together place it on your tree.
Levi makes the packs of hot chocolate Kuchel included and you sit and read A Christmas Carol together.
You share fond looks and smiles, and steal kisses throughout.
"I love you sweetheart." You say to him as you lay on the couch together.
"I love you too." He squeezes your sides lovingly and sighs as you run your hands through his hair.
"I'm going to pick up some hours tomorrow. And someone will give me their shift too, so I'll get a whole days work in." You tell Levi, happy you could find something.
"That's great." Levi wishes you didn't have to worry, or work. Maybe one day.
You both get ready for bed and Levi holds out a bag for you. "It's still days till Christmas, but I want you to have it now."
You sit on the bed together and open the large bag, pulling out a large, beautiful green fleece blanket.
You gasp and stand to open it. "It's gorgeous!" You admire it and Levi smiles.
"Do you like it?" Your reaction says you do but Levi wants to make sure.
"Yes!" You throw your arms around him and hold the blanket between you.
Levi chuckles and kisses your cheeks and nose.
"It looks so expensive." You note, looking at him.
"Don't you worry. It's fleece. A warm but inexpensive material. Wool was out of our price range." Levi explains.
You hug him tight. "Thank you my husband. For the tree, the blanket, always being there for me, no matter what." Somehow, you always make it work.
He holds you and strokes your hair. "You never have to thank me, my wonderful wife. You make me so happy."
What started as a dreary holiday season has started to turn around nicely.
Levi tucks you into bed that night, wrapping you both in the new blanket, putting the old one on top for extra warmth.
For the first time in a month, you don't go to sleep cold.
"Thank you." You whisper as you lay in bed together.
"You're never going to be cold again. I promise." Things will get better starting now. You're both sure of it.
END FLASHBACK
"But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
As you've been lost in thought, Levi has just finished reading.
You smile as you think of that first Christmas together. After that particular day, things really did turn around.
You both worked hard and things went your way, and slowly you caught up on your bills, had enough food every day, even enough money for small gifts, and as Levi promised, you went to bed warm every night.
You spent a lovely Christmas with friends and family and thanked Kuchel for her help, of which she brushed off and told you to always come to her. You send a thank you note to the woman you met, and you even found the guitar player again and made sure he had a nice meal.
Within a few years, thanks to steady jobs and promotions, your situation went from rough to fair to good to great. And you paid Kuchel back a thousand times over a few years later when you announced you were having a daughter.
"Mommy?" Your daughter looks up at you.
"Oh, sorry sweetie." You realize you had a tear in your eye.
"Are you okay?" She asks.
"Yes my love. I'm just very happy." You kiss her cheek and reach to hold Levis hand.
He knows what you've been thinking of, and is thankful that you've made all these new memories since.
Your daughter doesn't know the whole story, but does know one thing, and though she's been listening to her father read, she's been thinking of you.
She climbs off your lap and disappears into the hallway, your dog jumping up to follow his favorite person.
You look at Levi and smile. "Thank you."
He leans in to kiss you gently.
Suddenly your daughter comes back in with three other blankets and the dog following behind, making you laugh.
"What are you doing?"
She throws them all on you, spreading them out. Levi grins and watches.
She climbs back into your lap and hugs you. "You'll always be warm mommy. Right daddy?"
You smile widely and hold her tightly. "Thank you my sweet girl."
Levi leans over to hug you both. "That's right. And I love you both so much." He kisses you both back and fourth, making you laugh happily, even letting the dog up to cuddle with you.
Levi isn't sure how he got so lucky. He also always remembers that first Christmas, and how you stuck it out together.
All it took was a little help from loved ones, some kindness along the way, and a few fleece blankets.
Pairing: Kishibe x Fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, age gap (Kishibe is however old he is – 50? Reader is late twenties), smoking, alcohol, reader goes through a breakup but it’s not a bad one
Length: 4k
Song: Guys My Age – Hey Violet
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you read your phone’s screen again and cussed, throwing yourself down on the hotel bed with a thump.
“Trouble in paradise?” Kishibe looked over from the windowsill, the smoke swirling around his head in a sunlit halo.
“More like, good riddance to bad rubbish,” you groaned, dropping your phone to the mattress beside you.
“At least one of my problems has the good grace to sort itself out,” you grumbled, leaning back and pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Which one of your problems was it? Rent? The boyfriend? Makima?” you peered at Kishibe from where you lay, squinting at him in confusion. Since when did he care?
“If it was Makima, I think we’d be in a very different position right now,” You answered, gesturing to the rundown hotel you were currently staying in. Kishibe scoffed out a chuckle and took a sip from his flask, offering it to you when you eyed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he drank. You took the flask with thanks and threw it back, relishing the honeyed burn of the whiskey as it spilt down your supple throat. You missed how Kishibe watched you drink, how his dark eyes narrowed when a drop of liquor slipped past your lips and down your chin, trickling in its cinnamon sweetness down your silken neck. You cleared your throat.
“It’s the boyfriend,” you chuckled drily, “The trash took itself out this time.” Kishibe raised a brow.
“Tsunada broke up with you?” once more, you squinted at Kishibe, wondering when he had ever bothered learning the name of the third division hunter you were dating for the last six months. Emphasis on “were”, as the man in question had just broken up with you for being ‘too serious’.
“Yep,” You flopped back on the bed, a blood spatter of red and white on the navy sheets.
“You should wash,” Kishibe instructed, and you groaned, wanting to throw yourself on the bed and sleep for the next ten years. But Kishibe had drinking plans, and as his partner, it was expected that you join him. You rolled yourself upward and grabbed your bag from the end of the bed, leaving Kishibe to seat himself on the twin bed on the other side of the room. You threw his towel at him as you closed the bathroom door, muttering about ‘old men getting sick’ and you not wanting to play nursemaid if he got ill from leaving his hair wet. You barely heard his reply but knew it had something to do with what you’d look like in a nurse’s uniform. You flushed at the thought, and slapping your cheeks at your embarrassment, stepped into the shower. The room still smelled of him, of heady musk and light pine, of cinnamon cigarettes and expensive aftershave, and as you breathed him in, you realised how truly fucked you were.
You were in love with Kishibe. Undoubtedly, irrevocably in love. After three years as his rookie partner, you’d fallen into a neat rhythm with the older man, quickly becoming the most efficient pair of hunters in Public Safety. The rumours swirled in your wake, the young pup to charm the old war dog, the only partner to last through Kishibe’s rough training and still come out of it semi-sane on the other side. Not that you’d claim to be sane. Not after all the things you had seen. Not after falling for a man nearly twice your age and as emotionally unavailable as a stray black cat. Tsunada had been a distraction, as had the three guys before him. All young and bright-eyed boys whose reckless charm and careless caresses had only barely filled the aching gap in your heart, so empty of cynicism and bitter whiskey. You undid your hair, grimacing at the flicker of dried blood that fell from your tresses. You plunged in to wash your hair, scrubbing your skull so hard, hoping that you could scrub yourself clean of Kishibe.
Today had been another successful hunt, way out in the boondocks of some country town, where a Corruption Devil had settled in. It had taken you more than half a day to get to the town, but less than two hours to get rid of the devil, and now you were stuck halfway home, forced to stay the night in a hotel. It wasn’t the first time you had been forced to share a hotel room with Kishibe, but it was the first time neither had been so mortally wounded to require around-the-clock nursing. You wondered if the same easy silence that filled your sunlit hours would pervade the darkness as well. You hoped it would, and the warm uneasiness that had been building up in your lower stomach over the last year or so would disappear into the night, along with the sounds of Kishibe’s chainsaw snoring.
You shook your hair out, happy only once the water ran clean and stepped out of the shower. You needed a distraction. From your ex-boyfriend. From Kishibe. For whatever feelings you had for Kishibe. You rinsed yourself off and rummaged in your bag, pulling out a fresh white shirt. You thought to the night of drinking ahead and wondered if Kishibe would let you get some company for yourself this evening. You needed it. Needed the rush of playing cat-and-mouse, of fumbling hands in the dark, of losing yourself in someone else’s body for the first time in months. You left a few buttons undone, showing off a tasteful sliver of cleavage as you huffed and puffed back into your trousers. You did your hair and face, sure to put on a lipstick that screamed ‘fuck me,’ and stepped out of the bathroom.
Kishibe choked on his flask, hacking up what sounded like half a lung when he saw you exit the bathroom.
“What?” was all you said, raising your eyebrow as the man, “did you forget I was a woman?” Kishibe could only cough in response. You grabbed your jacket,
“Let’s go.”
…
You weren’t drunk enough for this. Not for this drivelling conversation and certainly not for the slimy pickup lines slithering from the hunter across the table. Kishibe was lost in a conversation, nodding and hemming along to whatever was being said by the senior hunters. You needed a smoke. You scrambled to your feet, meeting Kishibe’s eyes as he looked across at your movement. You motioned that you were going for a smoke and he nodded in understanding.
You broke free into the darkness, breathing in the heady scent of wet asphalt and city lights. You rounded a corner into an alley and fiddled around in your jacket pocket, retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a light. You flickered the flame to life, thinking of all the times you had lit Kishibe’s smokes, leaning in between gaps in the rain, sharing breaths in the muggy air. Smoke trickled from your mouth in a dark dragon of grey and blue, the clouds catching the reflection of the neon sign of the bar above your head.
“Hey baby,” came a dark coo, and you tilted your head to peer into the dark.
“Kishibe?” you asked, despite knowing it wasn’t him. You would know his voice anywhere, that deep soft rasp that stirred your lower stomach into a fluttering of iron butterflies.
“Aw, darling, you wound me. As if I would ever come close to that gross old bastard.” It was the hunter from before, the one whose pickup lines were worse than any of the drivel Tsunada had fed you.
“I’m not interested,” you gave a polite smile and prepared to go back inside.
“Really, because you were giving me bedroom eyes back there,” he approached you, coming closer and closer, tainting the air with the bitter tang of beer and old cigarettes
“You made an incorrect assumption then,” you corrected him, straightening out and preparing to throw your cigarette out onto the damp concrete. A pity, you wanted to savour it. He crowded up to you, using his height against you, casting a shadow over your shorter form. You looked up at him, tilting your head and squinting.
“Aw, don’t be so frigid, baby,” he leaned his hand above your head, effectively pinning you between the wall and his body. You sighed. You really didn’t want to start a fight, especially not with another hunter.
“She isn’t being frigid, boy, she’s being polite,” oh, that smoke-saturated voice soothed you, getting you to drop your guard as you saw Kishibe flicker into view.
“Get lost, punk,” he said, motioning for the guy to walk, and the idiot listened, suddenly aware that he was between the two toughest devil hunters in the agency. Kishibe came to stand beside you, cigarette already clenched between his teeth. You lit up for him, relishing the way he leaned in close, the scent of his aftershave rolling down your spine. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall next to you.
“Did I ever tell you that you have shit taste in men?” he asked, and you snorted.
“No, but I believe you,” you answered, shaking your head.
“Why do you go for punks like him?”
“I don’t know,” you huffed, “their boyish charm,” you lied. Kishibe tsked.
"Clearly you need a real man,” he said, and you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. What was he playing at? You shrugged.
“Unfortunately, those are hard to come by, unless you know any takers?” you jibed, a little gutsy, now that you weren’t looking Kishibe in the dark, depthless eyes.
“I could name a few,” he grunted, and this time you properly turned and looked at him. He took a step toward you, moving closer than ever before, a mere breath away. He looked down at you, all rippling muscles and rugged scars.
“And would your name be on that list?” You closed your eyes as you asked, hating to see the reaction in his eyes. You could feel him, almost sense his body around you, surrounding you.
“Well, you’d never have to go out dressed like this again,” a single calloused finger traced the low fit of your shirt, almost brushing your breasts.
“Or mess around with those boys again,” he rumbled, his finger trailing up your throat, where he gripped your chin.
“Tell me, princess,” he rumbled, “did that bastard even make you cum?” You were sure he could feel the blush radiating off your cheeks, but you bit your lower lip and shook your head.
The noise that left Kishibe’s throat was dark and deep as it vibrated through you, sending shivers down your spine as he leaned down. He was just a whiskey’s breath away, all cinnamon and sinful musk, his dark eyes watching your face as he drew closer.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, and you threw all caution to the wind. You grabbed his tie and pulled him down, crashing your lips to his, tasting the bitter tang of beer on his lips. For a moment, Kishibe paused, his eyes wide open, before he was kissing you, driving you back into the wall, stealing every gasp of air from your desperate lips.
“Fuck,” he cursed as he pinned you to the cold bricks behind you, pressing his tongue past your teeth and flooding you with the taste of him. His hands seemed reluctant to touch you, so you grabbed them from the wall behind you and settled his hands on your waist and hips. His thick hands were eager, filling you with warmth as he gripped and groped at your flesh. His hips found yours, pressing you even deeper into the wall, his thigh coming in between your legs to push at the apex of your legs. You whine, feeling him rub his thigh over your needy cunt and his hips stutter against yours.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” he gripped your hips, rocking them over his thigh, fucking you on his leg. You moan his name, and he groans, stopping and grabbing your hands as they explore his toned chest.
For a moment you think he wants to stop, that he’s rejecting you, and you feel like you could curl up and disappear, but he reads the bright fear in your eyes and leans in, pressing a single chaste kiss to your swollen lips.
“Relax doll, I’m only taking you somewhere else,” he rumbled, “somewhere no one can interrupt us.”
You blindly followed him through the dark, stumbling behind him as he makes the short trip back to your dingy hotel room. He held your hand the whole time, large and warm and engulfing yours in its calloused grip. Once in the elevator, he turned to you, dark eyes suddenly serious, despite the hunter’s light that shone deep in their murky depths.
“This is your last chance, sweetheart,” He stepped closer, crowding you into the corner of the lift, his trench coat shielding you from view, “Tell this dirty old man to stop.”
“Why would I?” you answered, grabbing at the lapels of his jacket, reaching up on your tiptoes to lay a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, where his scar severed his face. He groaned at your featherlight touch, his hand coming up behind your head to meld your lips to his, holding you tight to his body, so that you could feel his muscles ripple against your tender touch. He only tore away when the elevator dinged your sudden arrival and then he was gone again, practically dragging you through the door and pressing you up against the cool wood, his mouth meeting yours once again. He pushed your jacket from your shoulders, gripping your upper arms tight as he laid a trail of sloppy kisses down your jaw. He sucked your skin into his mouth, nipping and suckling at the skin until he was sure he had left his mark on you. You shucked his jacket off as well, throwing the heavy canvas aside and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He was quick to do the same, exposing your tits to his hungry mouth as he cupped you beneath your bra.
“Fuck, look at these tits,” he cooed, squeezing and groping at the soft flesh, “So fucking beautiful, better than I ever imagined,” he groaned, biting and teasing your nipple through the fabric of your bra. He scraped his teeth up your chest, slithering his hands down the slope of your stomach until he reached the waistband of your pants. He made quick work of the belt and zipper, sending your pants to your knees as he teased your clit through the fabric. Your hips bucked, unused to any decent touch and you blushed, flushed hot by the sudden attention after being neglected for so long. Kishibe kissed you harshly again, biting your lower lip back with a pop before skimming down your body. He nipped at your stomach, lathing his love over your belly, pulling down your panties. He watched a thin string of your arousal cling to the fabric and he hummed, helping you step out of your clothes. He knelt before you, reverent in his worship, fumbling prayer from his scarred lips as he licked and sucked at the skin around your cunt. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and sunk his tongue into your cunt, his huge hands engulfing your hips to stop you from bucking onto his face. He licked a slow stripe up your pussy, finding your clit and swirling his tongue around it until you could feel your cunt clench around nothing.
“You’re gonna cum on my face, princess,” Kishibe told you, murmuring into your slick silken skin, “and then you’re gonna cum on my cock, yeah?”, he lapped at you before you could respond, pulling a low keen from your pouty lips before your voice broke into shattered pants. His tongue worked wonders, pressing the hot wet muscle up and into your pussy, effectively fucking you with his tongue. His one hand left your hips, trailing down your thigh and coming up below his chin. The first finger felt like heaven, pushing past your soft velvet walls into your pulsing pussy, reaching, searching until he found the spot that had you shuddering, hips shaking in his grip. He slowly pumped his finger inside you, pushing and pressing as you whined and moaned above him, his mouth never leaving your clit as he traced the kanji of his name over the bundle of nerves. The second finger had your knees buckling, his fingers thicker and heavier than your own, stretching your cunt out to take his cock. He kept sucking at your clit, sending shivers down your spine as he worked you toward climax. His third finger was a surprise, welcomed with a hushed gasp and whimper from your swollen lips as he pushed his knuckles past your puffy folds.
“That’s it, doll,” he encouraged, “take them all.” You could feel pressure pulsing in your lower stomach, sending strawberry starbursts up your spine. You felt dizzy, drowning in the sound of Kishibe lapping and slurping at your cunt. You could feel your climax build, and by the clench of your cunt, Kishibe knew you were close too. He renewed his pumping into your cunt and sucked hard on your clit, tossing you over the edge into a starstruck spiral of static pleasure. He groaned as you came, sucking and lapping up all that seeped from your pretty pussy.
“That’s my girl,” he rumbled, rising from a crouch and kissing you hard. He gripped your hips to his, holding you up against the wall as your knees shook. You tasted yourself on his tongue, moaning at the saccharine tartness as his tongue slipped into your mouth. He stepped back with you stumbling after, holding you upright and pushing you softly down onto the nearest mattress. You bounced on the springy softness, looking up at Kishibe with wide doe-eyes, already fucked out on the orgasm wrought by his tongue and fingers. You stared at him through dreamy eyes, sitting up and reaching for his belt buckle.
“Easy there, sweetheart,” Kishibe’s hands cover yours, “are you sure you want this?” he asked. You blinked up at him and grabbed his tie, tugging him further down to reach your eye level.
“I want you, Kishibe,” you soothed, “show me how a real man fucks.” He swore then, unhooking his belt and dropping his pants quickly as he crawled over you on the bed. You reached down to palm him through his boxers, revelling in the hissed breath that caught low in his throat as you gripped his thick length. He was big, thick and heavy in your hand as you slipped your fingers below his waistband. You smoothed your fingers over his velvet head, smearing pre down his shaft as you pumped him in your hands. He groaned, a restrained grunt spilling past clenched teeth as he moved your hands away and shifted his boxers down and away. You were now bare to each other, your glistening pussy to his twitching length, chest to chest, skin to skin. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time softly as he ran his cock through your soaked folds. You moaned as his cockhead hit your clit, feeling waves of static ripple down your spine. He pressed his cockhead at your entrance.
“You ready, princess?” he gravelled, and you nodded eagerly, your soft silken folds leaving trails of slick on his pulsing skin.
“Yes,” You panted, “please, Kishibe,” you huffed, the breath pushed from your lungs as he began to ease his cock into your cunt. You groaned at the tight strawberry stretch, sending sparks through your limbs. He filled you slowly, surely, stretching you out until you felt split by his heavy cock.
“Fuck, doll,” Kishibe paused, slinging your leg up onto his shoulder, “you’re so fucking tight, hah?” He pressed you into the mattress, leaning down and folding you in two as his cock sunk in to the hilt. You gasped, feeling him in the pit of your stomach, twitching in impatience. He paused for a brief moment, as the pair of you caught your breath, you reaching up to him to pull his head down for a kiss, all teeth and tongue and spit as he sucked on your lower lip. He moved languidly, rolling his hips back and out of your plush cunt, and back in with a muted hiss. He set a slow pace, making you feel every inch of him as he ebbed and flowed over your trembling body. His cock reached the deepest part of you, brushing up and over the points that had your eyes rolling back and jaw clenching. You muffled your whines with your hand, reaching up to bite your fist as Kishibe’s hips made contact with yours. He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head.
“Let me hear those noises, pretty girl, else I won’t be so gentle,” Kishibe warned, nipping the supple skin of your throat.
“I never asked you to be gentle,” you pouted and prompted a low groan to trickle from Kishibe’s throat.
“Why?” he snarled, “You want it rough, doll?” he asked, slamming his hips into you with a sudden rush. You scrambled, fingers white-knuckled as your fisted the sheets above your head, your back arching deep as he pressed the pressure point in your cunt.
“Yes!” you exclaimed, pressing your tits up into his chest. He gripped your hips, hard enough to leave a mark there come tomorrow, and pulled you onto his cock, stopping slightly before setting off at a brutal pace. The sounds of skin on skin surrounded you, wet and sticky and soaked with sweat as Kishibe pounded mercilessly into your pussy, a string of grunts and growls spilling from his lips to your chest. You mewled, releasing your wrists to sink your fingers deep into the muscles of his back, feeling the muscles shift and ripple beneath your clawing nails. You were sure you drew blood, but couldn’t tell as pressure bloomed deep inside your core, burning through your limbs with the fury of a forest fire. Kishibe could feel you clench around him, so soft and strong as his cock pumped into your plush pussy. He stopped, grabbing you by the back of your knees and pushing your legs to your chest. He pistoned into your cunt with speed, his one hand coming down to rub quick circles around your clit. You quickly drew close to climax, feeling each press of his cock deep in your cunt and every swipe of his thumb sending you closer and closer.
“I’m gonna – “ You panted, “I’m gonna cum!” you breathed, keening as the first shudders of your body shook you to your core.
“Then cum, sweetheart, cum for me,” he groaned in your ear, increasing pressure on your clit until you were shaking in the cage of his arms, limbs twitching and trembling as he fucked you through your high. His name was the only word to fall from your lips, slurred out slowly as he spilt himself deep into your cunt.
“Fuck,” he grunted, holding himself over you as his hips stilled against yours. You whined when he pulled out, already missing the warmth of his hale body as he withdrew from you. He stepped into the bathroom briefly, exiting only when he saw you shakily try to get off the bed. He tipped you back onto the mattress, a warm washcloth in hand.
“Don’t run away so fast,” he scolded, gently, rubbing at your battered thighs and leaking cunt.
“I’m not running,” you said and he looked at you. He crouched before you and reached up to cup your jaw.
“You can run, I won’t stop you. But know that I’ll be coming for you,” he kissed your cheek, “You’re mine now, princess.”
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I do not own Chainsaw Man, or any of the related characters. Chainsaw Man is created and owned by Tatsuki Fujimoto. This story is intended for entertainment purposes only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of Chainsaw Man belong to Tatsuki Fugimoto. Please do not copy, re-use, or distribute this work as your own
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summary: On your walk home from class, Aki kinda sorta saves your life.
content/warnings: college au, HURT/COMFORT, first kiss, so soft, NDE
wc: 1.4k
After classes for the day are over with, you always look forward to meeting Aki outside his building and strolling back to your shared apartment almost as much going home by itself. You know each other so well that these walks are often spent in comfortable silence—they're simply the beginning of your evening routine.
No one ever believes that you and Aki just friends after they've seen you together (sometimes, even based on the way you talk about each other), including yourself from time to time. Aki seems to like giving mixed signals, and it's not like he's an open book.
Today isn't unlike any other day so far, save for another mixed signal.
Snow dusts the ground, and the cold makes attempts to penetrate the scarf wrapped snug around your neck. Every inhale feels like ice, and leaves in a puff of fog. You even have your arms crossed and your hands buried in your armpits in attempts to warm your hands. Rubbing them together does nothing.
Aki speaks for the first time since you met up. "You forgot your gloves."
"I forgot my gloves," you confirm gravely. "It's so fucking cold..."
Aki's long puffy coat makes him look like a penguin. He suddenly stops, and begins to work one of his woolen gloves off.
"Aki—" you chuckle nervously. "It's only a couple minutes."
"Yes, I know, but you've gone all day without them." He's grumbling almost to himself, frowning troubled. "I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier."
He's apologizing?
On Mondays and Wednesdays, your schedules align so you can have lunch together, and on Mondays specifically, you both leave the apartment at the same time. Today is Monday.
"I forgive you," you assure, still joking, but he isn't. He seems to give something some thought, takes his left glove off, and gives it to you. You're relieved he doesn't give you both, or god forbid the clothes off his back, but that relief is blown away by shock as he takes your hand.
One of his gloves on your left hand, his one on his right. That leaves you the perfect opportunity to—
"Now we'll both be warm," he says quietly, but he sounds unsure. He's watching you. "It's only a couple minutes, so."
"Yeah. Okay, let's go," you agree quickly. How is that disappointing now? Only a couple minutes...
But walking the winding path to your apartment feels like it takes longer today. You hardly pass anyone. Your heart pounds, and your cheeks feel hot despite the chilly wind. You can't help the butterflies fluttering inside you that this is how Aki would hold hands with you if you were together. His are much bigger than yours, so besides the fact that you're forced to keep your gloved hand curled, lest the glove falls off, the hand which holds yours almost engulfs it. It's still warm from the glove... and very soft.
You treasure these last few minutes before you have to let go as you arrive at the last street you have to cross to get home, the kind with a path down the middle that cuts the asphalt in half, with pedestrian signs, but no lights.
Normally, you'd look. You're so taken with your thoughts, and the world has been so still and quiet, that the crossing doesn't even occur to you. Aki barely hesitates.
It happens before you can even blink. A roaring engine blasts from your left, and it feels like your right shoulder leaves it's fucking socket as you're yanked backwards, nearly stumbling to your knees when you're hit with a bunch of hot exhaust. Forgotten leaves from the autumn season take off around you like drunken birds.
Aki curses, ripping you back another few steps before you're literally left in the dust of a truck whose hood must've been taller than your head.
What just happened? you try to ask, but your eyes are wide, still in shock.
Breathing hard, his arm hooks over your shoulder and protectively reels you to him. You find yourself pinned to him in a tight embrace, your cheek squished against the chilly puffiness of his coat. You're shocked by his proximity, the way you suddenly feel so safe, and the remnants of adrenaline still running through your blood.
"Are you okay??" he asks breathlessly over your hair. "That—That fucking idiot, almost..."
The sound of his voice snaps you out of your stupor. You hug him back, but you get the feeling that you're both shaking. He says your name urgently.
"I'm fine, I just wasn't paying attention... If you weren't holding—my hand..."
"Don’t say that," he snaps. "Surprised if he—if he hasn't already killed someone. Fuck," he whispers. His hold on you hasn't slackened at all. “I’m glad I…”
You feel the same. Letting go somehow scares you now. It's true—if Aki hadn't noticed your lack of gloves and insisted he hold your hand, then that could've ended... another way.
Neither of you so much as squirm for the longest time, and as time marches on, this hug begins to feel like something else. You're in the middle of deciding whether to say something—and if you did, what you'd say—when he suddenly lets go of you, tears out his phone, and immediately begins to type something. Aki is more furious than you've ever seen him.
"License plate," he says flatly at your stare, without looking up.
Your first instinct is to dismiss him from going through the trouble, but you immediately let it go. Besides, he looks scary right now. You wish he'd hold you like that again.
Instead you look around. Streetlamps illuminate your surroundings, but at dusk, no one appears to be around. It's as if nothing even happened.
Still not looking at you, Aki takes out his cigarette pack, and then struggles with his glove for his lighter. He seems panicked, and once he finally gets the cigarette and lighter in his hands, you noticed it's shaking profusely. He can't even light it.
"Aki, I'm okay, it's okay." You step closer, but his expression only turns more conflicted. "Seriously! It's over now, so just."
You take his shoulders, forcing his attention towards you. His deep blue eyes still look anxious.
"Here." You pluck the lighter from his hand. "Let me."
The lighter hisses as the flame is born, and you get the cigarette lit. You slide the lighter back in his pocket for him.
"Th...Thank you," he says quietly. His eyes flutter when he inhales, and he inhales deeply. Still. Neither of you start walking again.
"Are we... Are we going?"
Aki stares down at his cigarette for a moment. He moves aloofly, like he hasn't decided what he's going to do even as he does it. And then he's hugging you again—carefully, with his lit cigarette held over your shoulder. You melt against him.
“That was dumb luck," he remarks bitterly. "If... I don't know what I'd do if, if..."
You pull away just enough to look up at him. "Me neither... But it didn't. We're safe. Thank you."
Aki holds your gaze until you could swear his eyes are glittering. Then he scoops up your chin, pulls you close, and kisses you.
Your heart jumps right to your throat when you feel his lips press to yours. They're just slightly chapped from the cold, rich from the tobacco. In moments you kiss back and sling your arms around his neck. His hand slides down, cupping your nape to keep you close.
Suddenly, he pulls away by inches. You still feel his breath on your face. "I should’ve asked first. Can I kiss you?"
You don't know whether to laugh or cry. Smiling widely, you slam your lips together again. You enjoy him too much to feel the cold at all.
Aki kisses you with an intensity that's still somehow careful, like he's worried you'll for some reason pull away and take back everything. Your lips smack. It last for so long that nearly half of his cigarette has burned away on its own when you finally pull away.
"Maybe we should go on a date," you remark, laughing breathlessly. "Kind of a shitty memory for a first kiss."
He takes a fleeting drag, his hand still not having left your waist. "Yeah." Then he looks around. "Let's just get you home first."
tags: 18+ minors dni,smoking (both reader and aki), talk of death, gn reader, insinuation of sex, first kiss, let know if i missed anything
synopsis: aki is so sweet, you just had to have a taste.
It’s quiet, as he liked but it’s unfamiliar. Ever since the making of his ragtag team Aki’s living space has grown used to loudness, a habit none of his team could curb - except for you. Then again you are an exception in most cases of his life. You don’t like regular milk and prefer soy milk, he makes an exception to go from his rigid grocery list to buy the soy milk you like. You love all things sweet; jellys, suckers, hard candies, Aki keeps different flavored bubblegum for you in his back pocket. He can deny it all he wants but the fact remains that he has a soft spot for you.
He even shares his cigarettes with you.
The quiet of the room is broken and you paddle in from the living room to the balcony where he sits, taking in the cool air and watching what little are out pass by. It’s been hot so you’re wearing clothes that reveal more than he’s used to, more than he can handle at this point in your relationship. Dating is…unfamiliar to him. He knows what love is, what it looks like - the dates, flowers and chocolates but the life you two have; it’s danger and cruelty doesn’t let such things happen. You don’t seem to mind, he notes.
You like it when he makes changes to the grocery list, when he folds your laundry and when he does the dishes. You treat acts like they are flowers and chocolates and dates at high class restaurants. You look happy, he hopes he makes you happy. You’re wearing short shorts, the kind that rises and sits at the curving plush of your ass and he tries to not look when you bend to take things out from the grocery bangs. He feels you come behind him in the chair he sits in and wraps your arm around his shoulders. The sleeve of your shirt is a spandex material, you hate short sleeve shorts with passion so you always wear something like this.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” He asks and he feels you hum near his ear. Your cheek presses into his hair that flows down to his neck, free from his hair tie. Twirling one of his locks around your finger you respond,
“I can’t sleep when you aren’t with me. I don’t feel safe enough.” He hums back and ignores the twitch of his lip in amusement. Kitten-like and sweet it’s no wonder he loves you so. Reaching back, he takes your hand in his and squeezes it.
“I’m here, sorry I stink of cigarettes.” He apologizes as he rubs his thumb over the knuckle of your hand. Aki hears you laugh and you press a kiss to his ear - he ignores how it makes him turn pink. Your hand comes into his vision and he lets his jaw relax for you to take it. Going from behind him you situate yourself at his side, half sitting on the armrest of his chair and taking a drag of his cigarette before letting the smoke release. This career isn’t lucrative, you’ll die young anyways killed by a vice would be better than the fate of dying at the hands of a devil.
“There now we both stink of cigarettes.” You say with a smile that’s less empty when you give it to him. You keep the cigarette and take another drag. He reaches to take it back and you huff softly, taking it out of his reach.
“What, you want another indirect kiss?” You tease and he shakes his head. He leans further into your space - he takes in the knee socks and the fullness of your thighs but stays stead and takes back the smoking white stick you keep from him. He takes a drag then moves to it with his left hand, further from you.
“No, I don’t want you smoking.” You shake your head and smile at his comment - he’s said such things every time but you see how his hand laxes to pass you his cigarette. Little pleasures for little lives.
“You always say that but you still give it to me.” Aki sighs and his arm goes from being next to you to around your waist. He leans in, places his head onto your shoulder and snuffs the cigarette on the dish next to him. You smell of his detergent and your shared room.
“And you always make a comment on indirect kisses, if you just want a kiss just ask for one instead of mooching off my cigarettes.” He feels you stiffen and he smiles at the embarrassed look on your face he knows is there. His arm wrapped around you, leads to his hand that rests at your hips, slips up, his palm at your stomach.
You squirm and he can feel you try to get up but he keeps you there - you often forget how strong Aki is given how gentle he is with you. So he keeps there, in the night air, with the scent of cigarettes and laundry detergent, hand pressing into the warmth of your skin.
“You want a kiss? Is that it?” He asks you and your shoulders tense before you nod, face warm not from the heat but from the feeling blooming in your chest. You hear his laugh, it’s soft and kind, it makes you want to hide from him because this isn’t what you’re used to.
“C’mere, face me.” He says and it’s the usual Aki talks, calm and reserved so you listen, turning and descending to his space. You catch the blue of his eyes and you want to squirm with how he looks at you, affection unrestrained and unrestricted. He brings you in close, his other hand bringing your face closer to his. He kisses you, just letting his lips brush against yours and you hate how you whine the softest bit.
Aki pulls away and your face feels hot, he smiles.
“Do you want another?”
You nod, so desperate you forget your embarrassment. Something twinkle in his clear eyes and you shudder at what you’ve awakened. He leans back in the chair, you follow, going from the armrest to infront of him and he sighs at the sight. You’re pretty everyday, but desperation makes you lovelier.
“Ask, and I’ll give it to you.”
You end up asking all night, and for more, good thing Aki makes exceptions for you.
Aki is undeniably, wholeheartedly in love with you, and there's nowhere he tells you he loves you more than right here, in his bed, when you're under him.
cherry waves - deftones
all my love to @kentoangel for giving me the inspiration to make this fic!!!! ilysmmmmm!!!!!!!!!! 💗
pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader
word count: 6.1k
tags: 18+, smut, fluff, fingering, cunnilingus, tender sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, smoking, established relationship, lots and lots of i love you's, soft dom aki
this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.
Aki is undeniably, wholeheartedly in love with you.
He tells you every single day. Before he goes to work, he leaves a note on the fridge: There's cash on the coffee table if you want to go out and treat yourself. Have a good day baby. I love you. :) His handwriting is neat, sleek, and formal, like him personified with pen, but when he gets to the I love you, the letters seem to become a bit messier. He scribbles them nervously, as if he feels a little embarrassed about writing it, about seeing the words on the paper, tangible and real. Regardless, you pluck the note off the fridge and keep it in your drawer, alongside the hundreds of others he's written for you.
With his voice, he asserts it even more. When he manages to get a break at work, he steps aside to call you for as long as he can, even if it's only for a few minutes. He tells you he loves you before he hangs up the phone, says how much he misses you while admiring the polaroid of you in his wallet. I think about you every second that I'm here. I can't wait to come home to you.
He'll profess his love in the late hours of the night, limbs tangled with yours under the sheets, while he holds you close to his chest. He litters your forehead with the lightest, most delicate of kisses, as though you're made of porcelain beneath his lips. The words are uttered drowsily, like they're heavy in his throat, and he whispers them over and over again, as if his fondness is spilling over, uncontained. You're already fast asleep in his arms by now, so his I love you's fade into the darkness, but perhaps you'll end up hearing them in your dreams.
It slips off of his tongue again when he shares lunch with you. He takes an orange from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, peels it, pulls the pieces clean apart. There's an odd number of slices. He gives you the extra one. The citrus tastes sweet on his tongue, just as sweet as what falls from his lips. God, I love you so much, you know that? It catches you a bit off guard when he says it out of no-where, but before you can ask him where his sudden remark came from, he's shutting you up with a kiss that tastes sugar-coated.
He's just lucky to have you. Lucky and oh-so grateful to share both his life and his love. This quiet scene, shared between only the two of you: it's simple, but he's never felt more alive. Aki is finally able to live how he's always wanted, enjoying the most mundane of moments with the one he genuinely loves, who loves him just as much.
If he is the moon — cold, monochrome, and stormy — then you're definitely the sun, shining like rays of daybreak light and eternally warm like a summer's heatwave. In a world of devils, of heartache and the bitter taste of blood, you would be his idea of an angel.
He's still not sure if he even deserves this, nor does he understand how someone like him got so damn fortunate. And it's cheesy, but he wouldn't trade this life for any other, or for anything in the universe. He just wishes he got the chance to meet you, to cherish you and this life, so, so much sooner.
All he can do now is make the most of it, tell you he's in love with you in as many sentences as he can possibly fit it into, kiss you until his lips are bruising, promise you, I'll stay with you, for as long as this world will allow. Cross my heart and hope to die, my love.
There's nowhere else he belongs but here. His arms belong wrapped around you, his lips belong on yours, he longs to be as intertwined with you as possible. There's nothing he wants to say more than your name and infinite chants of I love you, I love you, I love you.
And there's nowhere Aki tells you he loves you more than right here, in his bed, when you're under him. The phrase is whispered in your ear, warm and true, the slightest bit shaky. "You're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I'm so in love with you." He says the words softly, but in your chest, they feel like the intense blaze and explosion of a sky filled with fireworks.
A vinyl spins and spins in the humble record player, and the speakers play a song. The low music resounds in harmony with the soft pitter-patter of rain. Droplets blanket the tin roof above and then tap gently against the window. Silk curtains are pulled slightly ajar, and blurry, fluorescent lights from the city shine through fogged up glass, illuminating the dim room.
His clothes and yours lie in a heap on the floor. He slipped off his oxfords at the door, shed his suit jacket over the couch. You loosened his tie and tossed it aside, popped each button on his dress shirt, unfastened his belt and his zipper to pull down his slacks. You reached into his hair and tugged on his hairtie until it came free from the topknot and the dark strands fell around his face.
He pulled your pants down and off of your legs, then hooked his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. He kissed you through the fabric, grinning when your legs shivered, before taking them off, leaving you in only the shirt you were wearing.
The album playing is one Aki picked out. The music itself is a bit grungy, maybe even a little out-of-style, but it's one of your favorite bands, and since it's your favorite, it became his too. He plays the cassette you gave him in the car when he drives, listens to the record on loop when you're gone because it always reminds him of you.
Strands of his hair tickle your face when he places a tender kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, your jaw, and finally your lips, where he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger to drag you in closer. He doesn't want to pull away, and so he lingers for far longer than necessary, kissing you softly, effortlessly.
Your arms wrap around him, and you hold the back of his head with one hand, trail your fingers down his back with the other, and trace the scars that are littered between his shoulder blades. His hands find your thighs and he grips them carefully, slowly spreading them apart.
He pulls away to pepper your neck with kisses and playful nibbles of his teeth, his lips unable to stay off of you. His fingers trail up, under your shirt, and on your chest, below your ribcage, his fingertips trace shapes onto your skin. It tingles when he draws circles, hearts, spells out the letters of his name with a feather-light touch, wishing he could engrave them in. If he could, he'd cover every last inch of you with his own being, until there's unmistakable proof that he was there, that he's in love with you. For now, the hickeys he's leaving on your nape will have to do.
"So gorgeous," He mutters against your skin, words muffled, breath hot. "God, I just adore you." His voice is deep, quiet, as smooth as the velvet sheets and as familiar as the guitar riff you've long since memorized in this song.
When Aki leans back, there's a faint grin on his face, and the kindest look in his eyes. Just looking into them makes you feel like you're drowning in warmth. It's hard to recall when you first met him, it feels like forever ago. His gaze was so cold and frigid then, but now, it's taken on a much softer hue.
Aki dotes on the fact that you're wearing nothing but his own shirt. It's one of his old t-shirts that you dug out from his dresser, and it's a baggy fit, but it looks beautiful on you, he thinks. His palms glide under it, caressing your bare skin. From this view, you look stunning. The way you're laid back on his pillow, arms sprawled out with hands upturned, you look absolutely darling, like a dose of fathomable heaven.
Your senses are filled with the smell of his sheets, his clothing, and his laundry detergent. His cigarettes, his room, just the smell of him, it makes your head spin, and you melt into the comfort and familiarity of it all. You reach up to tuck his messy hair behind his ears, fiddling with the piercings on his lobes as his hands travel down. The glint in his earrings capture the hazy glow of the city lights.
His hands reach your hips and he holds them tight, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles on your skin. He lifts them, aligns you, takes a deep breath. His heart pounds with anticipation, but he looks to you, asks if you're ready first, and only when you nod does he continue. With a hard swallow that makes his Adam's apple bob in his throat, then a fragile gasp and whine, he steadily presses inside you.
You're so wet from the hours Aki spent teasing you before this, and so messy from the countless times you've came already for him. The inside of your thighs are shiny and glistening, covered with the love bites and pretty bruises he left there.
It's on nights like these where Aki not only tells you how much he loves you, but shows you. He pleasures you all night long, until you've cum over and over again for him. Until morning light starts to seep through the blinds, and you're too tired to continue, falling asleep in his arms after the waves of pleasure subside.
Earlier, he made you cum on his fingers, one hand holding his cigarette, the other nestled between your legs. He takes a drag in from the cig, tilting his head to exhale the smoke away from you, all while his middle finger runs up and down your pussy. He gets it wet with your slick before slowly pressing it inside, all the way to the knuckle. He drags it in and out, in and out, and when you buck your hips to meet his hand, he adds another.
His ring finger stretches you out deliciously, and once it's all the way in, you can feel the cool metal of his promise ring pressed up against your entrance.
It rests on the base of his finger: a modest, silver band. You wear a similar one, but yours is adorned with a bright, glittering diamond. He saved all his paychecks for months, surprising you with the matching set on your anniversary. Since then, he never takes it off, his promise to be yours anchored to him wherever he goes.
He'll replace them someday; he's going to ask you to marry him in the future, and he's already convinced himself of it. He hopes you'll take his last name. There's no-one in the world he trusts more with the Hayakawa surname than you, and no-one else he'd rather pass it on to. Giving you that piece of himself would be a blessing.
Aki's hands are so large and so pretty, big enough to eclipse your own when he holds them, or to cup your entire face with his palm like it's what he was meant to do. And his fingers are perfect; they're so long and slender, and they feel so good as he fucks you with them. You gasp when he curls them upwards, and his lips can't help but form a smile around his cigarette.
You're always so receptive to his touch. You still giggle every time he kisses the back of your hand or the tip of your nose. Your heart still pounds when he embraces you, when his eyes lock with yours for too long. You fall apart for him every time, just as easily as the first.
He finds it endearing, and he can't help but want to please you more and more, give you all of his affection. He stamps his cigarette out into the ashtray resting on the nightstand, abandoning it to put his full attention on you, whispering the most divine words into your ear.
Listen to how wet you are. It feels good, right? Tell me it feels good.
He pumps his fingers in and out to a careful, tender rhythm. He makes sure to press them in enough so that each time, you feel the cold edges of his ring.
Oh, baby, are you close? Don't hold back, I want you to cum for me.
Aki can feel you tightening around his fingers. He notices your breathing picking up and your body starting to tense. He drags his fingers out and brings them to your clit, where he rubs tight circles, just how you like, in the way that always brings you to the edge for him time and time again.
That's it. You're so beautiful when you cum, sweetheart. You make me want you so bad.
Your thighs are sore, and your whole body is trembling, but Aki holds you close while you come down. You can go one more time for me, can't you, baby? Of course, when he asks you that, the answer is always going to be yes.
He's dying to taste you, and so he makes you cum again, on his tongue this time. He plants open-mouthed kisses on your stomach, your hips, your thighs, onto every bone, mole, and soft spot his lips can find. Raise your hips a little for me, He instructs, sliding his arms under your thighs when you do so, There you go. Can you spread your legs a bit more for me too?
He laps up the mess, presses his tongue in, fucks you with it. The rich flavor of his cigarettes still lingers in the back of his throat, and your sweet taste combined with it makes him feel delirious.
He buries his face between your legs, his nose nudging at your clit, and he groans into your cunt when you run your fingers through his hair and pull him in. He kisses your clit with soft lips, licks it with the flat length of his tongue, takes it into his mouth and sucks on it hard. You're so pretty, he mumbles, but you hardly hear it. Your legs wrap around his head, and he doesn't stop until you're cumming for him again.
Making you cum, listening to your pretty moans, watching you fall apart to his touch, it gets him so hard. His dick aches, throbs ceaselessly in his briefs, leaks out where it rests thick and heavy against his thigh. His mind goes foggy with lust, and he can feel the pure and utter want for you burning in his veins, settling in the cavity of his chest.
There's something about you that always makes him want more, makes him crave you, and causes him to desire everything you're willing to let him have. It's insatiable. He wants to be inside you so bad he can hardly stand it, but honestly, he could get off on just this alone.
He could do this all night, surely. He always puts your pleasure above his own, and he would worship your body forever, make each curve and dip into his form of a prayer, if you'd only let him. He'll make you cum as many times as you can take, and as many times as you want. Whatever you want him to do, he'll do it for you. However much you want him to give, he'll give you even more. At your request, he'd give you every last part of himself.
But on nights like this, even when your eyelids are heavy and threatening to shut, you need more of him. You want to be closer, so even when you're spent, you always end up begging him please, Please, Aki. I want you to fuck me. He wants it just as badly, if not more, and when you ask him like that, how can he resist? He'll always give you exactly what you ask for.
His cock is thick and so fucking pretty, a perfect stretch when he fills you up. Aki takes his time, eases into you slowly, and you savor every single inch of him. The sight of his dick pressing inside you is damn near intoxicating, and he wouldn't be able to tear his gaze away if he tried. His pupils are blown, eyes glazed over, and his lips are slightly parted, quivering.
When he's finally all the way in, you can feel his dick in your stomach, and he groans, pulling you in even closer by your waist. He hasn't even moved yet, and his head is already spinning. He waited so long for this, ended up teasing himself just as much as he teased you, and you're so tight around his cock, the feeling might consume him. He doesn't think he'll be able to last long, but he'll try.
"Oh, fu-uck, baby-" Aki's voice cracks into a moan as he starts to fuck you, echoing a wet sound when he rolls his hips out, then presses back in deeply. He mumbles, "You feel so amazing, I love you. God, I love you."
Before you can tell him you love him too, his lips come crashing onto yours. He kisses you slowly, at first, but he can't help himself from wanting to indulge in you further. Your lips feel like all he could ever need as they mesh with his. Then, he's kissing you deeply, breathlessly, like he can't get enough. He sucks on your tongue, sighing when he thrusts into you. He buries his cock in deeper just to feel you moan more into his mouth. Your hands thread through his hair, holding it back, keeping it out of his face.
Honestly, the feeling itself isn't what turns you on the most. It's knowing that he is the one fucking you, Aki's dick is inside you. Aki, whose cold exterior you broke past, whose heartache you managed to cure. Aki, who deserves so much more than what the world has given him, who is nothing like what people say about him.
Aki, who keeps his arm linked with yours while he makes dinner, trying out new recipes to find which one you like the best. Who wipes the tears from under your eyes with his thumbs, who gives you his jacket when it's cold outside, who still blushes when your knee bumps his in public, who makes you feel completely and utterly safe with him. Aki, who kisses you just like this, like the world is going to end.
The way Aki loves is intense, but tender. It's exhilarating, but sincere. It never fails to take your breath away, yet still feels like a home you can return to. The kind of love that grounds you, but not without allowing you to fall for him more and more. The kind of love that's purposeful in everything, because in every possible instance, you're the one he wants, and the one he needs. You, and only you.
When he draws away from you, his lips are ghosting on yours, and he whispers it again, "I love you," voice just barely audible over the music and the downpour. He pulls back further, reaches a hand into his messy hair to brush it out of his face, then cups your cheek. You lean into his warmth, his touch. You can feel the outline of his ring, and he has a stupid grin on his face when he mumbles, "Look at you. So beautiful, and you're all mine. How did I get so lucky?" It's true, but really, he's all yours — so hopelessly addicted to you.
Aki makes love to you softly, almost lazily. It's sweet and passionate, and gives you a chance to enjoy the atmosphere and every little detail of it all. Aki's cheeks are flushed, his eyelashes flutter, and his chest heaves with every ragged breath he takes in. His moans are loud and needy, each roll of his hips deliberate, never too hard, because he knows how to make you cum without the need to be rough.
Every time he shoves his cock in, it sends blood rushing to his head, and with each drag out, he whines from the pressure. He's sweating, and he grabs your shirt to hastily tug it up. Not enough to take it off, just enough to expose your chest to him.
The storm is picking up now, and the rain has grown to a loud, universal drum as it pours from the sky. The record player is still going, vinyl spinning idly as it plays the next song on the album. Aki fucks you through it, nearly to the rhythm, but he isn't paying attention to the music. He's just focused on you. The ambience is drowned out by the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and Aki's voice in your ear.
"So good," Aki slurs, and one of his hands grips your waist, while the other finds yours to hold it tightly, your fingers interlaced with his. "You take my cock so well."
"Aki… I..." You stammer out, unable to say much more than that.
"Yeah?" Aki stops completely, giving you a second to breathe. He leans in a little closer, studies your face, and quietly asks, "What is it, baby? What do you want?"
"Want you deeper, I want you to fuck me more, please-"
"Shit," Aki sighs, clearly losing his composure for a second. He already had an idea of what you were going to ask for, but he still absolutely loves when you beg for him. He exhales a shaky breath, "Okay, baby, okay."
Aki's pace quickens a little, and he presses his body closer to yours, desperate to get himself even deeper inside. He's gasping, finding it difficult to breathe as he fucks into you harder, with less of his deliberate movements, and more of his own desperation. He's losing control, little by little, with each thrust and each noise he pulls out of you. You wrap your arms around him, and it's like he's falling into you.
All it took was that little bit of extra speed, shoving his cock in deeper, harder, and your heavenly moans and cries into his ear for him to be just barely hanging onto the edge. You feel good, way too good. Too perfect, and he's too vulnerable, linked inseparably with you.
"Oh my God, I c-can't, you feel so- fuck, fucking amazing," He stammers, barely able to get the words out, moaning after every unsteady thrust into you as he begins to lose his rhythm. His high-pitched whines are a perfect contrast to the deep vibrato of his voice. "I can't, baby, I'm so close, I'm gonna cum-"
He's trying so much to hold out, but he's so needy, and it's made evident by his moans and the love-drunk expression on his face when he leans back to look at you. His eyebrows are knitted, his lips are parted, and he's flushed red, all the way to the tips of his ears. Despite how badly he wants it, he thinks he might be able to keep going for a little while longer, but when you start begging for him to let go, to cum for you, he's done for.
He gives you a couple more desperate thrusts before he pulls out, panting hard, and his dick throbs in his hand as he jerks it. He whines your name as his cum spills out all over your pussy, your stomach, and your thighs. All over his own trembling fingers and down his knuckles, making his hand sticky and messy.
Aki takes a moment to catch his breath. Strands of hair stick to his forehead from his sweat and he does his best to brush them away. He glides two fingers through the mess on your stomach, then collects what drips down your thighs, before bringing them to your mouth. You open before he has to tell you to, and he smears his cum all over your tongue. You suck on his slender fingers and twirl your tongue around his whole hand, licking up every last drop.
"That's it," Aki praises, exhaling a shaky sigh, "Such a good girl for me. You made me feel so fucking good, baby."
You hum around his fingers in response.
He's close to collapsing, his whole body covered in a blanket of exhaustion, but his focus is on you. He's still so damn hard, already dribbling pre-cum out all over your soft stomach. And he's still so eager to please you, still so desperate to have you. Watching you take his fingers just reignited that feeling.
Aki takes his fingers out, and they're wet with your own saliva when he grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks. He swallows, and the way his normally resolute voice wavers implies that he's the slightest bit nervous when he admits, "I still need you."
"I need you too. Please."
The tip of his dick is sensitive, to the point where just pressing it to your entrance makes him whine and briefly falter. He strokes up the length, trying to get himself used to the stimulation, swiping his palm over the tip to smear the shaft with his pre-cum. He doesn't want to make you wait for too long, so he brings it back to your pussy, dragging it over, getting it messy with your slick and his cum before he slowly eases back in.
"Oh, God," Aki's head falls, and you wrap your legs around his back, tangling your fingers in his hair. You run them through close to the scalp, gently holding the back of his head, and he stammers, "S-So… It's so…"
It's so sloppy, so wet. So overwhelming, and all too much. His cock slides in and out with ease, and he fucks into you as much as he can possibly handle without falling apart at the seams. Your thighs are soaked, his dick is unbelievably messy, and the wet sound echoed each time he shoves himself in is so damn loud.
"Babydoll, I'm-" Aki mumbles, but he's unable to finish his sentence, breaking into a string of pathetic whimpers. He feverishly gives your neck open-mouthed kisses as a way to shut himself up.
The overstimulation is already starting to get to him. His legs are weak and shaky, threatening to buckle under the weight of each thrust into you. His dick is so goddamn sensitive that he can hardly handle this, and yet, he can't stop. The only thing running through his brain, through every nerve in his body is that he needs you, he needs this. He grabs your face with his hand and you hook your arms around his neck to pull him in, your lips clumsily connecting with his.
Aki moans into your mouth as he kisses you, and mutters an I love you that slurs off of his tongue when yours swirls around his. The taste of himself on your mouth has him reeling, and he can't stop himself from rutting his hips into you hard. When he pulls away, there's drool dripping down his chin, and he wipes it hastily with the back of his hand.
With his head in such a blur, he ends up telling you every little thought that enters into his mind. "Feels so g-good… So warm… Really w-wet, ah-"
God, you just love him when he's like this. So fucked out and drunk on you he can hardly speak, his head so cloudy all he can think about is how you're making him feel. It's a side of him only you get to see; he's cold and serious with everyone else, but he's got a soft spot for you. The truth is, even when it seems like he's the one in control, you're the one who's held all the power over him from the start. You always have.
You can leave hickeys on his neck that all his co-workers will see, scratch up his back with your fingernails until they leave red streaks across his skin, touch him anywhere and everywhere you please because he's yours to touch. Play with his pretty cock all you want, until he's pleading with you to let him cum, to give him more because he needs it. You can stuff his own tie in his mouth to keep him quiet, wrap your hands around his throat while you ride him. And he'll love every second of it, pure devotion reflected in the gaze he can't seem to keep off of you.
He'll let you do anything you want to him, and he'll give you anything you ask for. Especially when he's this overwhelmed, drowning in his own pleasure. And if there's anything you want right now, it's to watch him lose his mind for you.
So when you tell him to fuck you deeper, harder, pleading, Don't you dare stop, not even for a second, he'll do just that. When you tell him to kiss you, bite you, he does, placing hurried pecks over every inch of your face, leaving impressions of his teeth on your neck and shoulders. And when you tell him to keep talking to you, praise you, I want to hear your voice, his words are incoherent and breathless, but he stammers them all the same, and without a second thought.
"Love you… I… A-Ah, it's-" Aki manages, trying to form something complete, but failing every time. His breaths are quickened and his chest is heaving when he begs, "Please," although he's not sure what he's even begging for. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and beads of sweat drip down his forehead. It's too much, but he needs you so badly he can't quit. He's desperate to feel you cum on his cock.
Your legs are still wrapped around him, secured at the ankles. You glide your hands up his chest, then to where his collarbones jut out. Over his shoulders, up to his jawline, then down again to squeeze his arms. He's pretty, so pretty, the prettiest boy you've ever seen.
He can feel you tightening around him, and can tell your moans are picking up as he fucks you. His thrusts are shallow; he needs the friction, but also longs to stay deep inside you. He's dizzy, seeing stars, and even though he's so overwhelmed that he's not sure if he can handle cumming again, a familiar knot starts forming in his gut. He chokes out, "C-Close."
"Me too," You reply, "Want you to cum for me, fill me up, please, Aki-"
There's no way, absolutely no way he can resist that. Between you begging for him and the way you say his name, he's done for. He'll always give you just what you want.
The tension snaps, and Aki grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him, fucking you through his orgasm, filling you with his cum. He cums so hard, so loud, so desperately, his muscles tightening, his dick throbbing in your stomach, all while he whines your name and a mix of disjointed, endless I love you's.
His thrusts become messy, unrelenting, and he doesn't stop, not when it sounds like he can hardly breathe, or when his whole body is trembling. Before he collapses onto you, he wedges a hand between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. The feeling is one of utter euphoria, and it's enough to bring you to the edge. You slur his name over and over again as you finish, saying it in ways that make his heart flutter and swell in his chest.
He slows when you're finally spent, his voice in your ear hoarse, but gentle, words spoken under his breath. "That's it, cum on me, baby. Just like that... Oh my God...."
The record has long since stopped by now, and the rain still falls, but nowhere near as hard as before. It creates an air of silence, and you're suddenly aware of your own heart in your ears, and Aki's heavy breaths, his swallows and meager gasps for air. His weight pins you to the mattress, and he pulls out incredibly slow, wrapping his arms around you to hold you even closer to himself. He smells of sex and sweat, of lingering smoke and a cozy familiarity.
"You okay?" He asks, finally managing to catch his breath, whispering into the shell of your ear.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay."
"I love you so much. More than I could ever find a way to express," Aki sighs, taking your hand into his own, "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."
You give a little half-hearted chuckle, and then you reply, "I love you too. So much."
Aki pushes himself up a little to meet your gaze. His cheeks are covered in a rosy blush, and when your free hand comes to cup his cheek, he holds it there, his fingers tenderly rubbing circles into your knuckles, brushing over the curve of your ring.
He smiles, softly, warm enough to melt fresh snow, and the bridge of his nose crinkles ever-so slightly. After a moment of hesitation, he asks, "You tired, baby?"
You nod, eyelids heavy, your whole body weak and weary. Aki leans in, and you can feel his smile against your lips when he kisses you. He holds it, keeping his lips on yours for far longer than he needs to, like he always does. When he pulls back, he whispers, "Let's get you ready for bed."
Aki gives you as much time as you need to rest, and when you're ready, he tugs your shirt over your head and carries you to the bathroom. He showers with you, lets you lean on him while he washes your hair, and kisses every inch of your skin while you both relax under the hot water. He dries you off, helps you get dressed, kisses the tip of your nose, asks if you're hungry. You say that you're not, but he offers to make you something anyways, and for his cooking, you can't refuse.
When the two of you finally sink back into bed, Aki holds you close. His shape fits to yours perfectly, like two halves of the same whole. You can feel the metronome of his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. His hand grabs yours, absentmindedly, like the way magnets are pulled together, destined to find one another.
"I have the day off tomorrow, what would you like to do, baby?" He asks as he plays with your hair, twirling strands around his fingers.
"Mmm…" You feign thinking, but really, you're just trying to fight off your ever-growing sleepiness. "Can we go shopping?"
"We can go wherever you'd like. You wanna go out to eat, too? We haven't in a while."
It's because your cooking is so good, You think, but you answer with a nod so light you're hardly sure if he even noticed. He places a kiss on the crown of your head and replies, "Alright, we'll go somewhere nice."
In your head, you imagine how the day with him tomorrow will go. Aki will slip out of bed to make breakfast as silently as possible, careful to avoid stepping on the spots that make the floor creak. You'll wake up to the smell of coffee brewing, to breakfast in bed. Aki will take you to the stores he knows you love, the ones that have the clothes you always say you feel the best in. He'll take you out to the restaurant you never ask for, because you know it's too expensive, but he secretly knows it's your favorite. And of course, he'll pay for everything.
You begin to fall asleep as the scenes play out in your mind, melting into the lull of his soft breathing and the warmth of his arms.
Aki's voice is drowsy when he asks, "You still awake?"
There's no response, so he pulls you closer, holds you safely, presses your head to his heart, and tells you one last, I love you.
And when he drifts off as well, he'll love you still, wholeheartedly. Even in his dreams, then until he breathes his last, and when he does, he's sure he'll continue to love you in the lifetime after this one.
I'll love you as much as my heart can take. Cross my heart and hope to die.
a/n: no tag list for this one as its not tr & thank you dice for being my beta as usual
18 + // MINORS DN
A sigh drifted down the hallway, followed by annoyed mumbled of fuck and thank god. Loud footfalls eventually halted in the entrance to the living room.
You perked up, finally turning around to meet Aki’s gaze, hard at first but quickly becoming softer as his eyes traveled up and down you as you sat there wearing a shirt of his and seemingly nothing else.
“Welcome home, baby.” You rested your chin on your hand and batted your lashes at him. “How was your day?”
“Over, thankfully.” He plopped down on the couch next to you, body spreading out as his head rested back. “Glad I’m done babysitting for the day. I’m exhausted.”
You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. The scent of cologne that had faded throughout the day and cigarettes lingered on him— a warm scent, a scent that was distinctly Aki. “Nice to come home to you though.” He wrapped an arm around you and dragged you closer.
“What? Don’t wanna go back to your place?”
“Not today. Had enough of them.” Aki soon had your cheek cupped in his hand and lips pressed roughly into yours.
“Well you are always welcome to stay here, you know that.” He was, you often wished he could just move in with you, but leaving Denji and Power wasn’t in the cards for him, not now, not when there was just so much more that needed to be done.
“Mmm might have to take you up on that one day, princess.” He pressed his lips into yours again. Losing himself in thoughts of waking up with you every morning, of the calm quiet life he could maybe have one day.
The kiss quickly deepened and he dragged you on top of him, your legs resting on either side as his hand traveled to your thighs and up to your ass, gripping the soft skin and squeezing. You threw your shirt off to the side as his other hand traveled up your back, taking in the warmth and softness of your skin. You took the tie out of his hair, letting it fall loose in his face, and ran your hands through it. His lips met your bare chest, licking and sucking gently on one nipple and then the other, massaging his hand into your ass the entire time.
It didn’t take long for Aki to have you a moaning mess, gripping at his shoulders and hair and pushing your hips forward against his chest unconsciously as he continued to play with you.
“Really missed me, yeah?”
You moaned a weak yes as he nipped at your collar bone.
“Missed you too, princess. Missed you so much.”
Another nip at your collarbone and your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling his head back.
“Aki -“ His eyes were full of lust, desperate to latch back on to your skin — desperate to taste you more. Your train of thought completely stopped seeing that need on his face. It had really been a rough day. The only thing on his mind was losing himself in the pleasure of his pretty girl. Instead, you leaned down, pressing your lips to his, sliding your tongue into his mouth. You both moaned in unison.
He picked you up, breaking the kiss, and placed you on the couch next to him.
“Ya know what would be real good?” He brushed his hair out of his eyes.
“What baby?” You mused, you knew the answer already, but hearing him say it just made it that much better.
“Getting to eat that pretty little pussy of yours.” He ran long slender fingers over your cunt, dipping just barely into your dripping folds. You pushed your hips up against his fingers and he chuckled at your desperation.
“Would you like that princess? Wanna cum for me?” He dragged his fingers up your bare thigh.
“Please Aki, please” You batted your lashes again and pouted.
Aki loved when you looked at him like that, when you begged — even if it was silly, even if you both knew it would happen regardless, it still sent fire through his veins. He lifted your leg, placing it on his shoulder and he slowly made his way in, placing open mouthed kisses all the way to your core. Your eyes never left him, mesmerized by the way he savored the taste of your skin, the way he savored the feeling of you. He rubbed small circles into your clit as he moved up and down your thighs.
The small gasps that left you from every movement of his lips closer to your cunt had his cock straining against his trousers. This is what he needed after a long annoying day — your cute noises, your pretty face, and the sweet taste of you filling his mouth.
You tangled your fingers in his hair as his lips finally made contact with your clit. Your head tilted back, eyes closed, a whine leaving your lips.
“Princess, I’ve barely even touched you.” He smiled, his warm breath washing over you. “Not gonna last very long, huh?”
“Aki —“ you whined and pouted more. He cut off your whine quickly with a long slow lick — your head thrown back again as your fingers gripped his hair tighter, eliciting a groan from him at the slight pain.
He mumbled taste so fucking good babygirl, but it was unintelligible – his words muffled by your cunt in his mouth. The taste of you and the sweet noises you were making had him gripping his cock through his pants, palming himself as your high rapidly approached.
He was right though, and soon enough your legs were wrapping around his head, thighs squeezing him tight, as your body trembled beneath him. Aki’s moans from the taste and feeling of you almost drowned out your own.
You had barely been able to think before he was on top of you, lips pressing gently into yours, the taste of your essence on his tongue. His favorite flavor — and he loved to share. As your tongues swirled together, savoring the taste, you quickly helped undress him — tie and shirt thrown across the room, pants pooled at his knees.
He pulled away from the kiss — a strand of saliva connecting your mouths.
“So beautiful, sweetheart, you know that?” His hand traveled slowly up your stomach, reaching your throat, and wrapping around it gently. “Ready for me?”
You tilted your chin up, trying to catch him in another kiss. He pulled away even further though and squeezed your throat.
“Please baby, pretty please?” There — exactly what he wanted your sweet pleas for him. He backed up further, lifting one leg and then the other, placed them on either side of his head and pressed a kiss to your calf. God it had been an annoying day — but you were going to make it so much better. He ran his cock through your soaked folds, your body jolting with every tap of his cock into your puffy clit. You reached a hand out — desperate to pull him forward, to give you both what you needed. He slowly pushed his cock into you as he leaned into your hand, forcing his way in further as he continued down to press his lips to yours. Every second of his face moving closer and closer to you pushed him deeper and stretched your drenched cunt further. You tried to keep your eyes open and trained on his, dark with lust, peering out at you through loose strands of hair that had fallen in his face. You had tried but of course you had failed. The burning stretch and the pleasure of being stuffed full with Aki’s cock were too much to keep your eyes open. Seeing your eyes close and your head tilt back as his hips met yours had him doing the same. “Look so pretty like that sweetheart, so pretty.” His words jumbled as his cock pressed against your cervix.
After a few moments of the pure bliss of your cunt throbbing around him he reached down and cupped your cheek, pressing into a deep kiss. Once your fingers were laced with one hand and your other gripping onto his arm, he began to drag himself in and out of you slowly. Lips barely touching yours as your body bent almost in half to keep him as close as possible.
His slow movements only lasted so long. His need for you, for this, had built up all day, and now that he finally had his eyes on your pretty face contorted with pleasure his ability to hold back was quickly breaking down.
“S-sorry sweetheart.” He was almost sorry, truly, but the breathy way you said his name over and over, the way your cunt clenched down on his cock with every agonizingly slow thrust, the way you kept trying to open your eyes but just couldn’t possibly keep them that way through all of the pleasure — he couldn’t stop himself.
He slammed into you hard, waiting a moment for your response. You gripped him tighter, fingernails digging deep into his arm and hand. His hand laced with yours quickly matched the grip as he began his merciless pace. His cock pressing harder and harder against your cervix with every thrust. He tried to keep his eyes on your face — the way you looked with tears streaming down your cheeks, the way your knees almost touched the pillow your head rested on, he wanted to see it all — but the feeling of your cunt gripping him, your nails almost breaking his skin, and your trembling body all had his eyes screwed shut tight.
“F-fuck, my pretty girl, s-so close.” His words were broken with grunts and heavy breaths. “Gonna fill you up.”
“P-please Aki,” you tried so hard to get the words out, “w-wanna feel you cum in me.”
He gripped your hand tighter as he let go, pressing his cock hard into you as he filled you up, his eyes shut tight as groans interspersed with your name left his lips.
“Wanna take a bath, sweetheart?” His voice pulled you from the stupor you were in. Cunt still stuffed full of him, his head still tipped against yours, fingers still interlocked. “We should both clean up.” You looked up at him, pieces of hair stuck to his forehead, his eyes half open. “Sound good love?”
“Carry me?” you pouted again. He sighed. Of course he would carry you.
➳ tags ;; smut, fem!reader, unprotected sex, intimacy, clothed sex, aki fucking you in a dress shirt good lord, mild praise kink, multiple orgasms, creampie
➳ wc ;; 1.6k
➳ a/n ;; this man has been rotting my brain for so long. can’t believe i didn’t write this sooner ngl lmfao. anyways.. aki.. hand in marriage.
➳ plot ;; aki comes home to you after a mission
»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««
“You left the lights on,”
You’re startled by his presence. Maybe that’s only natural. Aki has gotten so good at hiding the sound of his footsteps - it’s easy to miss. You can feel his presence though. It’s familiar, the imagery. His silhouette is shadow-laden - hair still tied up neatly, suit and sword and all. He only just got home.
You’re tired but not tired enough to sleep so you merely blink at him wistfully, yawning. How many days has it been since he’s been home? It had to have been at least 3, maybe 4. You mask your excitement with nonchalance, a gentle roll of your shoulders. Cracking your knuckles, you yawn.
“I always do,”
“Always?”
You chuckle at his surprise. You don’t mean to be cheesy, after all. But it’s hard to miss the little sway in his voice, the overwhelming adoration. He takes off his shoes.
“Always,” you parrot. He almost seems hesitant to approach you. Only when you unfurl your form and place your feet on the ground - arms open, does he think about coming towards you. He gives you a half smile. In the low-lights, the way his coat slides off his body seems more substantial than it ever did. The way it slides of muscular shoulders and gets placed over the back of the couch.
Next to come is his tie, loosens it slowly and carefully but doesn’t take it off. It always stays around his neck like everything that comes with him. Still, he approaches you. Sits next to you on the couch and leans over one side.
For a while you two simply face each other, the comfortable company. His eyes are full of an unbearable love but his expression is dull. It’s a misery even you can’t wash away.
You don’t try, and neither does he - sitting there and admiring each other is enough. He rests his cheek on your couch and hums.
“Doesn’t the light bill get expensive?”
You laugh.
“I make more than you,”
He doesn’t take any offense. It’s a reminder that you’re human, wholly so - and he finds himself smiling again. It grows quiet for a while, your heart thumping in your chest. His shirt is unbutton just beneath his chest and you can see all the lean muscle in his skin. The veins in his forearms as they cross over it. You swallow.
“Come here,” ― he instructs, sitting down on the couch and patting his lap ― “I missed you,”
His voice is so nice. A little raspy, but so pleasant and soothing. Like cold water against your warm skin. You crawl towards him, but he pulls you over until you’ve straddled his hips. With his hands at your waist, he presses you down firmly. Your hands shoot up to his shoulders to hold you steady, and he laughs at you.
Without another thought, his mouth moves against yours with longing that you can feel in your core. He’s really something when he kisses - his tongue is so expert, you would’ve believed he’s done it a thousand times. His hand presses against your cheek as he kisses you, travels down to your neck and holds it. It’s not forceful but commanding.
Your hands are fisted in his shirt, breath snatched right out of your lungs. His teeth sink into your bottom lip and tug - dark eyes looking right into yours with desire so heavy it burns. You whine - soft and low. You know he’ll take care of you, know it in the way his hands settle on your hips and make you brush against him slow.
“Keep kissing me,” is all he says as he travels his hands underneath your pajama shorts. Aki’s fingers are long, steady - you can always feel how easily they could reach inside of you without trying. You whimper into his mouth when he toys with your clit - but he kisses you more forcefully, forces all of your attention right on him.
tags: kinda mean toxic ex aki, soft dom though, choking, break-up, the brainrot i have for this man is just ridiculous right now.
authors note: ive not wrote any other character than levi in so long omg, id forgot what it felt like to characterise a character if that makes sense?? i wrote this quick, trying to get a feel for writing him though 🥺!
You toss and turn in your sheets, it’s strange getting used to your own bed again. Weeks feel like months when you’re clambering into cold sheets alone every night.
The awakening in the morning is a cruel one too.
That steady breathing, those large rough hands on your hips squeezing in affirmation. Those deep octaves humming against your neck, normally so droll, so by the book. But when spoken to you at night, only the softest sweetest praises are uttered against your skin. Followed by heated curses or moans or both; sometimes even cries, depending on the day or the week.
That rich scent of fresh linen and tobacco. His soft black hair falling silkily through your fingertips.
Moving out of Aki’s place hurt.
Not being able to stroke and clutch at the soft cotton of his nightshirts whilst he presses his lips to your cheek. Hurts.
“I have to be more serious, I have to consider my goal. Please, go back to your apartment and join the civilian sector. I just want you to be happy.”
You curse the tears rolling down your cheeks, the way you clutch at your own knees for a sense of familiar stability. What’s worse is the way the air in your lungs is starting to feel like water, all at the thought of that conversation.
Passing him in the halls at Headquarters doesn’t get easier either. Today he only spared a mumbled hello, without even a second glance.
Life moves on. Right?
Three slow raps sound at your apartment door. You groggily squint at your alarm clock, for once the streetlight shining obnoxiously through your window does the trick. It’s just past midnight or near two in the morning, you can’t decide.
You bury your head under your pillow with a groan. It’s probably Himeno barging over for a late night drink, if you ignore her long enough she’ll go away, hopefully.
“I know you’re awake.”
You gasp in the dark, pulling yourself out of bed, you head down the hall with light footsteps, like a moth to a flame.
“I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”
Your palm hovers over the door and you sigh, a silent ‘fuck’ following from your lips. “It’s late and a weekday. Not your usual MO.”
“You gonna open the door?”
“Maybe if you say please.”
This time he sighs, “You’re mad, aren’t you?”
You open your door to him. He’s still in his work clothes, his cheeks red from the cold.
“You look cold.”
“Cause I am.” He peers down at you and with a small smile rests the backs of his fingers under your cheekbones. “Seems like you’re cold too, half dressed like that.”
However reluctantly, you bat his hands away, walking toward the kitchen. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”
He scoffs, closing the door behind him with a soft click. You can’t help but smile hearing him shuffle behind you, no doubt putting his shoes in a perfect parallel line to yours. Somehow everything Aki does is endearing, even when you’re mad at him.
“I wanted to see you,” he hums.
You simply huff, rustling through your cupboards for some clean mugs. Yet you can feel his presence behind you, intense and yearning.
You swallow, “So…D’you want tea or…who knew. I have coffee beans-“
“You’re in my shirt.” You startle when two of his arms cross around your waist, and his chin rests upon your head.
“Which do you want, Aki?” you ask firmly, pressing your lips together when his hands slide under your shirt.
“I want you.” He stresses every syllable, toying with your nipples and scoffing when they pebble. “You came to the door in practically nothing, invited me in, like this. In my shirt.”
Your cheeks burn, you’d not noticed until this very second, he’s caught you like this. In one of his black shirts and panties.
He grips at your breasts, pinching your nipples so hard you choke up. “It’s okay,” he coos, his jaw tightening at the way you moan into your palm.
“You like that? When I take it all out on you like this?…It’s been a long day, and all I could think about was you.”
“Aki. You can never make up your fucking mind.”
“You know I can’t live without you, because you’re the same. This is my shirt, isn’t it?” he quips, one hand gripping your throat.
“Maybe,” you hiss, groaning when he bends you forward, tugging up the hem of your shirt to expose your ass.
He reaches his hand back and slaps, your response is instantaneous. Somewhere between a loud moan and his name. His favourite combination.
“Do I need to ask you again? Or are you going to be difficult?”
“Fuck you.”
In a matter of seconds he’s hoisting you onto the kitchen counter. Slotting himself between your legs with a hand on each of your knees.
Just like clockwork.
He stands back to admire you, hissing your name under his breath like a curse. “Fuck you, right back,” he mutters breathlessly, kneeling below you with that dark glint in his eye. “How about that?”
“I mean it,” you spit, but with no venom in your voice.
“Of course, you’re still mad. But I can make it up to you. I’ve always been good at that, haven’t I?”
The heat inside of you stirs and you find yourself throbbing and clenching on nothing, pooling for him even. There’s something about Aki when he’s like this, full of affection and frustration.
His sweet talk makes you feel like you could ask for the world, but his tone makes you want to bend over for him, and let him print his hand all over.
He tugs at his own shirt collar because he can hardly breathe, his lips skimming along your thighs.
“I don’t wanna make up,” you squeak, moaning muffled into your wrist when his hands latch onto the waistband of your panties.
“Is that why you’re sleeping with my shirt on? Because you hate me so much?” he taunts. “You’ve not been thinking of me?”
“You’re so fucking mean,” you pant, breath hitching as he drags your panties down your thighs.
He whistles, “Then why are your panties ruined?”
He pulls them off completely, rising to tower above you. He lifts his brow, “Well? You can use your mouth, right? Had no problem using it to insult me a moment ago.”
In a lurch of a movement you thrust your arms around his neck, pulling him close. His lips seek yours. He kisses you with a deep seated passion, his mouth hot and patient.
He gasps and moans deeply into your mouth, clutching you tight, carrying you down the hall. The kiss only breaks when he kicks your door open and drops you down carefully below him,
“Still if you won’t use your mouth, I won’t use mine.”
He taps at your hips and you rise your arms, allowing him to pull away his shirt. After he throws it behind him, you instinctively turn to see where it lands. “Don’t take it with you,” you whisper. “Please.”
It’s almost like he feels his heart break there and then.
“I won’t.” he promises, firmly, and then his hands are on your body and so are his lips, in earnest.
“You still smell like me, fuck. That’s because you’re all mine, understood?”
“As if I could forget,” you breathe.
His hand adorns your neck first, stroking at the way your blood hammers under his forefinger. He squeezes softly and then tugs you to his lips, smiling against your mouth. “This shirt reminded me of all the times I fucked you to sleep. You shouldn’t have come to the door in it.”
“Don’t make threats you can’t keep.”
A deep laugh leaves his lips, affectionate and content. His lips lock with yours with a desperate fervour once more. Your hands tug at his hair tie, letting his hair free, you pull on it and he groans shakily. “I missed you. Your smell, your lips, your face. Your voice.”
“I missed you more than anything,” you cry into his lips, working away his blazer while his hair tickles your forehead. He helps, chuckling at the way you both paw at his shirt buttons.
Then finally, your hands fuse to his hot skin and he’s struggling to hold back. Flattened fingers slide down your torso until they reach your sex. He moans into your ear when he feels you dripping just for him. “Oh fuck, I can’t wait to feel you.”
“Aki, oh fuck.” He slides two fingers into your pussy and out again, working your slick on his fingers. You peer up to face the dark blue of his eyes, and he loses all composure seeing the love in yours. He slides the fingers into your mouth, silently demanding your obedience.
You suck away your juices with ardour and he moans, eagerly bringing them back to your pussy. “You’re so fucking pretty, especially like this.”
You slide your hands through his hair and pull, he’s always loved that. “More, huh?” He slides his fingers in until they’re knuckle deep, taking your breath at the same time as his lips lock with yours. Your legs hook around his lower back, needing to be closer, quivering beneath him at his touch.
“You think I forgot how you like your pussy touched? How you need to be worked upon?”
You stammer a breathless ‘no’ and his lips reach your neck. He kisses at the skin with possession, sucking and teasing his teeth to mark you. His other hand splays against your abdomen, joining his thumb to your clit as he continues to pulse his
his fingers into you.
“Aki, too much!”
“No, you can take it.” He only continues, hammering his fingers into you even faster. Those long fingers of his reaching that deep spot inside of you only he’s ever been able to reach.
“If you can’t take this then you can’t take me. Which is it?”
“I can,” you moan brokenly, your hips twitching and bucking up into his. The pleasure starts to coast along your nerves, washing through your body until you’re shaking and whimpering under him. “I want you, need to feel you again.”
His voice is breathy and raw in your ear, his teeth nipping playfully on your earlobe. “That’s my girl, come for me. I don’t want to stretch you too fucking tight tonight.” That mocking lilt to his voice all the more intoxicating.
“So, come on my fucking fingers, now.”
Aki prides himself on how well and how much he’s managed to gain this control of your body, months of deep appreciation and learning brought him to this point. He knows the right ways to suck and flick at your cunt until you burst.
You pant out his name endlessly, hazy as he journeys down your body with kisses. A silent shriek leaving your lips when he suddenly pulls your hips toward his face.
His hands sink into your hips and his mouth latches on to your pussy. “Aki, t-too sensitive!”
He rolls his tongue between your lips, catching the beads of your taste. But you’re shaking so much he decides to go easy on you, so he works away his pants, before hurrying back to your embrace.
Unwilling to let you go, both of his hands clutch your cheeks, kissing and coaxing your breathing down. He leans his back against the headboard and brings you close.
“Sit on it,” he pants into your lips, his hand hard enough to bruise your hip. “Please.”
You nod, reaching to guide him he bats your hand away. You moan at the gesture. Your peer down and make out the abundant gleam of arousal shining on his cock. You lift your hips for him and then he sounds like he’s struggling to breathe too. “Just like that, that’s my girl,” he stammers.
He swirls himself in your slick, clutching your neck he pulls you in for a deep kiss. “Feel me,” he drawls, sliding himself inside. You feel his lips stretch into a smile as you fill his mouth with moans. “Tell me how it feels, for you.”
You’re barely capable of words, you know Aki. He wants to know how this feels emotionally, as well as physically. He’s sneaky like that, catching you of guard when you’re stuffed full of his cock.
“G-good,” You slur. “Like I needed to feel you like this, even though it's a stretch.”
“But you always stretch to take me like the good girl you really are, right?”
“Always.” You roll your hips but get halted by his hands. “Aki,” you whimper, “You’re gonna kill me.”
“I’d never,” His lips press against your cheek, “Just wanna make you feel even better. I’ve treated you so terribly.”
Just like that, you’re being held in Aki’s arms like you weigh nothing. He holds you above his own body and fucks you with his cock, not letting you do a second of the work.
“Fuck I missed you. You’re so fucking warm, so fucking wet,” he grunts.
You’re like putty in his arms, “So d-deep. Aki. Aki, please.”
“You’re just what I needed, today. What I always need.”
He’s hitting so deep and so pleasurably, your mind is devoid of anything but him at this moment. The familiar scent of his skin, of his hair, the sound of him gruff yet so gracefully undone in your ear is all too much. “I love you.”
“I love you, please. Move back in. I’ve been an idiot.”
Your lips meet in the middle and tears fall amongst the desperate sounds of your bodies merging.
Aki starts to moan louder the more you clench on him, so close to your own undoing. “I’ve missed being inside you, feeling you. Touching myself could never fucking, come close.”
“I’m still on the pill, so you can,”
“Oh fuck, please don’t tell me that. So I can come inside.” His voice grows even shakier, his hands gripping your breasts. “Make yourself come first, I'm too close.”
You nod eagerly, he’s been keeping you on the edge for far too long. Through lidded eyes he watches as you fuck yourself on his cock. “You’re so gorgeous, you know that?”
“Aki.” Gripping his thighs behind you, you lean to give him a salacious view of your pussy swallowing his cock.
Grinning, he works his thumb onto your clit once more, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bud. “Go on then, pretty girl. If you’re gonna show off like that,” he teases breathlessly. “Then show me how you come on it too.”
He’s ruthless, flicking your clit as he meets your hips in the middle. It all feels too good, years of experience of each other’s bodies being used all too well.
“Aki, I’m close.” He clutches your neck, aiding the intensity of your finish. You pussy squeezing him so tight he comes in an instant. Whimpering out
your name as he fills you with his come.
“Oh my fuck.” You collapse against his chest and he holds you tight, immediately.
As the minutes depart, your breaths slow in unison, holding each other in the now stark silence of the dark, his hand finds yours.
Your heartbeat’s sync.
“I love you,” he whispers into your hair. “Forgive me.”
2087
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