bumping into your really nice alpha neighbour in the hallway (who you’ve been on again off again flirting with for weeks now), but squeaking out a little “sorry!” while having to rudely push past him so that you can get into your apartment before your heat gets out of control
vs
him being unable to resist following after you the second you scurry upstairs, every step he takes now getting a little more urgent, his blood hotter, until he’s pacing in front of your door, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth; trying everything in his power to keep himself from knocking because the way he is moving now reminds him of a predator and he doesn’t like it - he’s nice, goddammit, he’s nice
✎… when the line between protection and desire starts to blur; bodyguard!aki x fem!reader, voyeurism kink, voice kink, solo (f) masturbation » 1.2k words
Sleep doesn’t come - no matter how much you lay in bed with your eyes shut closed, waiting. The warmth of your blankets can’t keep the tremors away, nor the gentle silk fabric of your nightgown. The only remedy is touching yourself while thinking about him.
Little do you know, he’s here - on the other side of your door, sat in the hallway chair, sword resting across his lap.
The moment the familiar light of your lamp slips through the crack of your door, Aki’s steady gaze lowers, watching the thin band of amber go still. Something twists in his chest upon realising that you’re trying to sleep, but you still can’t.
You don’t know he’s here; and he doesn’t intend for you to, because he’s not supposed to be. The rules are clear. But if he leaves, something will trouble him all night - something restless and gnawing, whispering that you’ll wake alone and afraid. Or worse…
Yet, staying means crossing the line he drew the day he accepted the job.
Well… he’s staying.
He remembers how you looked when he found you - trembling, streaked with dirt and blood, your voice hoarse from screaming. He also remembers the thing that came for you; and how you winced at the sound of the thunder on your way home. He can’t leave.
He tilts his head back against the wall, exhaustion tugging at every muscle. Stray strands of black hair have slipped loose from the topknot at the back of his head, brushing against his temple. His blue eyes, usually clear and cutting, now look dull and clouded by sleeplessness.
Then, he hears it - a small sound, not quite a cry, but not a word either. More like a whimper erupting from a nightmare.
He straightens in his seat, his instinct snapping before any thoughts could follow.
And then - another sound. Slightly higher, slightly more intense. It stirs something inside him once it slips through the wall, overwhelming and alarming, causing him to rise on his feet.
Before he can realise, he’s standing there in the dark hallway, hand hovering near the door. He could knock, but that would mean admitting his presence, admitting that he’s been here all night…
Sighing, he lets his hand quietly drop at his side. However, before he steps back, it clenches into a fist. His brows draw together as his expression sharpens.
This isn’t the voice he’s used to hearing, it’s not the bright, confident one that fills his car between destinations when you’re teasing him about his silence; a little spoiled, with careless grace. It’s different - thinner yet… effusive. It catches at him in a way that it shouldn’t, as he feels like it belongs to a version of you that should be foreign to him.
Finally, the realisation washes over him - you’re not having a bad dream, you’re not crying… you’re moaning. You’re touching yourself. Sounds like these don’t originate from pain, they’re the kind that come in times of passion and sexual desire.
The more he listens to the way they multiply, the better he can tell your pleasure is magnifying by the second.
Aki catches the faint rustling of sheets, your voice breaking the brief silence - a shaky, elevating sound that makes his throat dry. He can almost see you, legs spread apart, restless feet dragging across the mattress, toes curling as your chest heaves excitedly beneath thin silk. Bottom lip tucked between your teeth but not long enough to control the inevitable reactions.
The fear that had you frozen earlier dissipating from the rhythm of your hand.
He can clearly see it if he focuses a little more - gentle, manicured fingers that once clutched his sleeve in fear now caressing the most intimate part of you, sliding into your warmth.
Another moan, pleading and drawn out. The kind that crawls out of your throat when the rush heightens to the point your body starts quivering; when you can’t do anything except move faster and stronger.
Aki runs a hand over his face, barely realising he’s doing it, and forces himself to look away from the door. With every next sound, needy and trembling, the shame coils tighter in his chest.
He shouldn’t be here and he shouldn’t be listening to this - he’s intruding something so intimate and private. This is your time to leave, a warning voice whispers in his head. Instead, he leans back against the wall, the wound in his shoulder throbbing dully with each breath - not enough to overpower the shame that settles inside him, though.
His brows furrow as your moans continue tumbling from your lips; he feels disgusted with himself as he concentrates, welcoming every little sound that reaches him. He notices you’re getting louder, more desperate than you were a moment ago.
If he presses an ear to your door he might catch the lewd noise of your palm smacking against your slick folds, breaking through the on-going moans emitting from your throat.
He gulps, then licks his lips, every muscle inside him tensing as his cock thickens from the warmth rising beneath his skin.
His mind starts screaming at him to move, to walk to the other end of the hallway and give you the privacy you deserve. Go to the kitchen and pour a glass of water. Anything. But his feet won’t obey.
The only thing he manages to do is set his sword carefully on the glass table, and sink back into the chair, exhaling as you appear in fragments playing out behind his closed eyes. Even with all the guilt he feels, he can’t stop the scenes from unfolding, more and more erotically with every pass.
You’re flushed, neck glistening with sweat as you shift against the pillow, voice crying out towards the ceiling; your small hand barely keeping up with the pressure bubbling inside you, fingers not skilled nor long enough to reach the spot you so desperately need.
More warmth settles under his leather belt as he imagines your pretty face scrunching in frustration, the euphoria forcing your mouth into an constant oh. And though he knows he should be better than this, more sensible and professional… he palms his erection, gaining a small yet intense thrill he’s never felt before.
He can almost feel the heat, the lust filling your room as your breathy voice rings throughout the walls that separate you from each other; it slips through, making the air feel hot and solid around him.
It’s absurd, Aki tells himself. He should be thinking about threats and contingency plans. But the image of you that doesn’t belong in his mind persists, perverted and disarming, stopping him from getting a hold of any reasonable thought.
Soon, your self control teeters at the edges and you come undone. You cry out, loud, voice slightly rougher which only makes it even more alluring. Aki exhales deeply through his nose, jaw tight as his bruised hand adjusts his manhood with a tighter grip.
When silence finally settles over your room, the thin line of light beneath the door fades away. For a moment his eyes stay fixed on the floor, waiting. When the glow doesn’t return, he draws in a slow breath and lets it out through his teeth, looking away.
His training kicks back in - the practiced act of pushing emotions down until all that’s left is the still feeling of alertness.
He straightens in the chair, gaze drifting to the window across the room. The rain still runs in easy silver lines down the glass.
Like that, the tight ribbon of pressure inside his chest slowly untangles, turning into something manageable. Meanwhile, you, on the other side of the wall, finally surrender to sleep.
a.note ! writing a chainsaw man character for the very first time i’m nervous ahh… if you reached the end - thank you! decided to start off with my favorite man aki and a scenario that won’t leave me alone ever since it popped up in my head while i was browsing a bookstore…
please, let me know if you enjoyed it :’) definitely let me know if you’d like to see more bodyguard!aki cause truthfully i’m very into him… can’t wait to eventually write fun things for the rest of the csm characters too ♡
I love the idea of a hybrid! pairing that forces one of them to go against their instinct, like cat x dog or lamb x wolf even bunny x wolf etc.
It’s like they’ll still sometimes catch a hint of your scent or the flash of your throat when you’re sleeping soundly next to them, unassuming… vulnerable…. and it makes them begin to drool, baring their teeth while their hackles raise. Their hands are fisting at the blankets beneath them as they fight back the urge they feel settle in their gut — the urge to hunt, the one they’ve been born with.
It takes everything to deny themselves of it. But they make sure to pour that instinct out into an other outlet, like rutting you ruthlessly into the mattress until you’re dizzy and wondering what the hell has suddenly gotten into them.
men who know they’re big, so they always wind up smirking at you when they watch the way your expression drops with the first feel of their heavy cock through their slacks, even going as far as to roll their hips up into your palm so you can get a real feel of what you’ve gotten yourself into
vs
men who don’t know they’re big, so they can’t help but find themselves embarrassed and flushing to their chest when you get the first glimpse of their cock springing out from their underwear and you gasp out loud, almost nervous you can’t take all of it while they’re just hoping your expression isn’t because you’re disappointed with what you’re seeing….
having your tits squeezed from behind is top tier hot. his chest pressed to your back and big hands kneading at you either over your clothes or pushed up under the fabric, fingers warm and rough against your supple skin and your head fallen back against his shoulder while he pinches your nipples and kisses your neck while you softly moan his name
he's a bad friend because he has had a crush on you ever since you joined jujutsu high, even when you start dating his bestfriend, geto, his need for you never disappeared it only got nastier.
his body sliding down the thin wall between your room and his as he violently pump his pink cock to the sound of geto fucking your wet cunt. he was holding his shirt up by his teeth not caring about the warm drool that was spilling from his mouth and coating his shirt with spit, huffing like a dog in heat as he struggles to breath.
"ahhhh-! nghhh!". his eyes roll back at the sound of your moans, how nasty he is stroking his fat cock to the sound of you getting fucked next room. his whole body was flushed, his tip was red, so swollen as precum leaking out of his clit.
he can hear how sticky and slimey your filthy pussy was, how hard it was gripping on his friends dick. he can hear the sloppy sound of the wet kisses, imagining the way you are sucking on his friends tongue like a needy slut. he whines, his hips shuddering at the nasty sounds that were feeling his ears.
oh he would do you so good, he would fuck you better, ripping your pussy apart with his fat cock. turning your pussy into a swollen mess, swollen with his hot cum.
"cum you fucking slut". geto groans thrusting his hips one more time. before gojo hears a spurt of wet stream, he whimpers, you were squirting- and that throws him at edge as he arch his back before robs of hot fluid shoot out of his sensitive cock.
gojo gaze hazily at the mess he made, he smirks, he's going to have you one way or another. after all he's the strongest.
