[ Aki spares a kiss to the side of her head, like she's done this before and knows all the sweetest words to whisper to make a girl melt like chocolate in her arms. It's impossible to concentrate or make sense of anything besides that sense of connection, not even the pang of want and something else, something more confusing, swarming her chest, making her ears buzz — that is, until she feels it. The push of a finger inside her. A second one. Then, the dragging, the angled thump of her palm squelching against her juices, through it — she's finger-fucking her, but there's not a mean thing about it.
Denji's breathing puffs out erratically, edging on hyperventilation. She can't seem to relax, thighs densely compressing around Aki's wrist, barely giving her space to pulse in and out. And what leeway she has is making her legs shake already. The opening to cling to her is all but welcome. Her arms swing around Aki's neck as she crumples forward, nearly bears all her weight down on her hand, gasping roughly into the underside of her jaw. ]
It — hurts.
[ Does that sound too much like she's being a baby? ]
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Denji's breathing puffs out erratically, edging on hyperventilation. She can't seem to relax, thighs densely compressing around Aki's wrist, barely giving her space to pulse in and out. And what leeway she has is making her legs shake already. The opening to cling to her is all but welcome. Her arms swing around Aki's neck as she crumples forward, nearly bears all her weight down on her hand, gasping roughly into the underside of her jaw. ]
It — hurts.
[ Does that sound too much like she's being a baby? ]
A little. But I'll kick your ass if you stop.