windfall | unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

( continued from here! )

[ Denji stares up Aki's way, visibly annoyed, as she brooks another crest of colorless smoke invading her senses, slender tendrils ghosting over their heads, nearly transparent in the lamplight. This nicotine-addicted slag. Always with the insults… It means kissing! She kissed them! What other meaning could make out have? Still, she roughly erases what characters she was writing (she'd forgotten midway what the stroke pattern to one kanji was), decorating her report in rubber shavings. ]

I mean, you saw Emi-chan's stuff. A bunch of her dresses and skirts looked kinda itchy, but she had some grown-up outfits in the very, very back!

[ Instead of writing what she took, her pencil draws a series of doodles across the page: some peanut snacks, a bottle of tea looted from the mini fridge, a vial that she kindly labels as pirfume, and then the garment bag. ]

So I took one, since I don't got a whole lotta those. [ Most of her closet is filled with clothes from the secondhand store… and some secondhand straight from Aki's own wardrobe. For example, the tanktop she's wearing under her blouse right now. ] It's gonna make my rack look suuuper sexy on me, and then guys will be linin' up outside our apartment to take me on dates to the zoo and all that!

[ No, Denji doesn't know what the proper attire is for a zoo date. ]

…'course I'm not gonna go, seeing as I'm already taken. But you get the idea. What'd you get?

[ If she's remembering correctly, Aki's hands didn't look as full as her own walking out of the dressing room. Did she not take anything and now she's regretting it? ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Denji doesn't think of herself as weaker than Aki. Both of their instincts have been honed to a certain degree, sure, but if anything, she's more durable, effective at dealing a prolific amount of damage all at once, overkilling their targets to the point of no return. All the way until whatever they're up against is a nice, scummy spread on the cement. That's what makes Denji valuable in combat; she's a machine whose motor never runs out of gasoline.

The thing is there's a reason why Aki was charged to look after her and Power. she's smarter. She's more experienced. She didn't just intensely piss herself out in the living room. And she gets the jump on her easily. ]

Eh, huh? [ She gasps, body twisted, bouncing from the springiness of the mattress, head pinned into the puff of the blankets. Whining, in an instant: ] You — hey, things were just gettin' good —

[ Denji doesn't waste a moment before trying to surge back up, knee thrust between their stomachs, pressing hard to get the one-up on her. Turn them back around the way she had them. ]

You liked it, [ she accuses again, scornfully. As if to remind Aki. ]

[She's so annoying. Always just taking whatever she wants, doing what she wants... Denji shoves her knee into Aki's stomach and Aki inhales sharply, beginning to teeter back, but instead of letting herself fall she reaches out and slams a hand on the wall, using it for leverage as she snatches for Denji's wrist instead.]

It's not about liking or not - [She's not getting into this right now. Frustrated, she tries to turn her, working to push Denji onto her chest and twist her arm behind her back. Denji's too stupid to know anything about getting out of holds, Aki has assumed, and nor does she think Kishibe ever taught her these skills, the old hag.] You know what happens when you fuck with something in a way you're not supposed to. [She gets it confiscated, obviously. Aki will find her pouring out all the furikake in one go into a single bowl of rice and take the whole dish away from her as punishment - Things like that. This is the same process. Dog logic. She aims to sit on Denji's legs, pin her down to the bed with her arm pulled behind her, but she's out of breath and horny, her grip flinching even as she subconsciously delights in attempting to fold her.] Hasn't anyone told you not to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Ughhhh, stop making up words! No one's told me that — [ they have, she's just forgotten ] — because not everyone's a crazy bitch!

[ She blows harshly at a lock of hair plastered to her face, the air flipping it up before falling back over her furious eyes again. Aki's fashioned her into a pretzel, is what it feels like being shoved into her mattress with no mechanism of getting out. That's distressing on its own, but what's even more so is how her slag superior has stopped warming Denji's cunt with her hands, her suctioning kisses, her excessively skilled tongue that knows just where to lash her just right. Did she really have to stop to lecture her?

From under Aki, she strains to arch her back, wiggle her ass, do anything at all to hurl her off her high horse, but nothing quite does the trick. Finally, she slams down, tired, panting dryly into the covers, a hint of a whine edging into her breaths. Her inner thighs are horrendously drenched, belly chomping at the bit to rub, press, take something hot and insistent inside her. ]

Nngh, if I did it wrong — then show me. Show me the right way you're s'posed to fuck with something.

[It's so... embarrassing, how the feeling of Denji struggling under her and grunting and groaning her frustrations sends the heat of arousal up her chest. Aki grips her wrist tight, clamping down on the desire to simply lean right back in and chew up her neck, leave her covered in spots and bruises, enough to make her remember this exact moment the next time she thinks of acting out. And, just as subconsciously, her asshole flutters, still tense from the memory of her brief, exploratory prod.]

[Denji tells her to show her and Aki has half a mind to do just that. Not explain anything and just fuck her with her fingers until she sullies her bedsheets. But - No. No, because there's that old saying about giving a man a fish, or something. Pressing her knees down between her legs, she slides her thigh against Denji's crotch, both allowing her something to grind against as well as forcing her legs open while she leans forward.]

First of all... You're not the one in charge. [For some reason, this feels like the most important thing to stress. Like reminding a dog to sit, not to bite, not to bark.]Second - You can't just touch wherever you want, how you want. There's a method to this kind of stuff.

[Her free hand swipes through her pussy, gathering a coating of wetness that she then slides up and over her taint and toward her ass. Gently teasing around the hole, she doesn't push in, doesn't fuck forward into her like an animal, instead simply teases the muscles and slides the lubrication around it.]

You're just a horny brat - You don't think about anything you do, you just do it. Don't you know how annoying that is?

[ Aki would have her rules, even in sex. Neuroses, inhibitions, even while she's rolling in bed with someone just trying to slow-pump her full of warmth, trying to pollinate the feeling. Is that really so shameless of her? Is that what makes Denji a horny brat in need of punishment? She's half-tempted to ask, but any further debate isn't worth the breath. She's using that air for something else already. ]

Aah, nnn… Shut up…

[ It's a relief the curtains are pulled, the lights switched off. When her legs spread to accommodate the leg, she's so wet, her pussy spreads easy around Aki's knee, blooming pink — hungry and carnivorous. Slipping and sliding against that solid bend, welcoming the intrusion. If she thinks too hard about the view Aki has of her whole frame shivering, how she's skating her fingers up and down, from hole to hole, she'll lose it. She's losing it right now, technically, but at least she still feels in control enough to be patient.

Once when Aki was in the kitchen roasting fish in the toaster oven, she told her the timing of when you pull out the tray is important. That you have to wait, make sure it's given enough time to rest in its juices and spices and herbs, so that the meat pulls apart from the bone without resistance, and she'd be been right. The fish was supple, delicate, and buttery. She could have it again and again without getting tired.

There's a part of her that thinks, maybe, the same principle, the same method, could be applied here. That if she bakes in her own sweat and mess, what happens next will be so perfect, this won't be the last time they dine together. ]

I just thought, [ she stops there, teeth clenched. Unable to explain herself. Not wanting to. ] Fine — ugh, fine! You're in charge, Aki —

[ Her hips twitch, the rim of her asshole shining. Puckered almost into a pout. ]

Won't be annoying from now on, promise, I promise…

[Experience tells her Denji is lying. Well, not lying, simply wrong. Denji will promise not to do something and then trip head-first into doing exactly that. She'll swear not to use all the toilet paper in one trip and then end up using it all to clog a bloody nose. Roundabout lies that aren't lies because they aren't intentional. Not every time, at least.]

[But You're in charge, Aki, graces her ears and Aki thinks - Obviously. That's just how it is. How it's supposed to be. Someone like Denji who can't even handle Power most days - Yeah. She takes in a breath, briefly rubbing her finger against her thumb, then presses the digit inside.]

[She's never fingered someone's ass before, only had it surprised upon her. Maybe that's why she reacted so negatively - The way her perverted senior did it, shutting up any complaints or snapping with a deeper kiss and a harsher palm against her clit. Not like Denji could manage any of that, of course. Guiding her thumb further in, her fingers slide down to glide between her lips, the middle one pressing forward and playing against where she gets tight, where her soaked cunt tries to suck her inwards.]

See - Slow, like this. [No, it's not pleasing like that. She knows it just as well. But even if Denji is quasi-immortal and has a body that snaps back after a gulp of blood, there's something fragile about her all the same. How she recognizes this is all brand new to her, how she wants to jump into the deep end but Aki wants to hold her in the shallow side first, grasping her arms and reminding her to kick. Pressing her finger a little deeper, past the clench of muscle, her thumb moves a knuckle further and then pulls back, both retreating at once before pushing back in - slow.] Just like that.

[ Everything up to this point has had a steep learning curve with steeper repercussions to complement. It's not the normal nature of life, but it is of Denji's. When there's a tidal wave rushing at your back, daintily dipping your toe into the water gets you washed out; someone like her knows you have to get paddling. Whether you're flailing or not, failing or not, it doesn't matter that you're swimming well. What matters is that you make it out with your chin above water. That's good enough.

But with sex — this thing with Aki, it isn't. Apparently, it's not just about feeling good, but how you feel it, is what she's learning. In a way, she understood that already, to an extent. It's why she tried so hard earlier, to overcompensate for her inexperience, because if she can't do something well, she can at least overwhelm her into not noticing. And it's why, at first, the tenderness with which Aki steadily does the same thing Denji had, but with both her holes, but better, but right, tastes torturous, tang on the tip of her tongue. The stretch of her fingers dragging inside her openings, making ground and then not, then pulling back in tandem, tastes like she has an axe to grind and she's chosen her body for the whetstone.

Briefly, Denji wonders if she's mad at her. She knows damn well there are myriad reasons for it, to treat her piss poor, but the thought doesn't fit right in these circumstances. Doesn't slot into place when it sounds like Aki's cooing at her, showing her how to do it just like that, just like how Denji asked.

Yeah, maybe she's imagining things. Maybe she's thinking too much. ]

Feels — mm, hah —

[ She doesn't know what to feel, can't even finish the sentence before she's groaning. Her hot insides squeezing around her fingers, cunt weeping fresh self-lubricant all across Aki's palm, down to her wrist. The heel of her foot gives an involuntary kick into the air, as if the touch had triggered some sort of strained reflex. ]

Where'd you — learn that?

[Almost out of instinct, Aki releases Denji and snatches for her leg when it kicks out, thrusts into the air with no actual threat to harm her. It's a reaction she can't entirely control but pretends like it is with how she moves her leg back into place, continues to sweep her fingers forward and along her inner walls. Once the moment has passed, though, it digests and Aki recognizes it - that she reacted just from this touch, that she's enjoying this.]

[Embarrassing. That's what it is - to be so turned on by that fact. It's embarrassing.]

Experience. [It's the only answer she deigns to give. Leaning over her, leg released and her arms now free, Aki can adjust herself to cup against her crotch and better thrust her fingers in, scissor them and twist them inside of her with the fresh wetness spilling out. She's making a mess of the very bedding she was just a minute ago preparing to crawl into and fall fast, fast asleep, but of course nothing can be so cleanly gotten with Denji.] You'll get there, too.

[She leans over and kisses her shoulder, then trails the brief pecks along her skin as her fingers continue. What had begun slow and torturous has increased in intensity but not as much speed - the motions are direct and purposeful, each adjustment and thrust and twist meant to elicit a feeling, not simply to overwhelm. She wants her to feel this, feel why it feels good. And why does she want her to understand that? It's not self-serving, she has no illusions of Denji being able to do this for her. So is it because she wants her to feel good? To understand this part of her?]

[Embarrassing. It's so embarrassing, the side of her this mutt brings out.]

[ Pure feeling simultaneously powers Denji and sends her wriggling like a live wire that's been snapped in half. Newly freed hands rake up and down the sheets, warring against the bed upholstering. Her back, shimmering with sweat, tenses and flexes at every light press of Aki's berry-sweet lips, like an animal unused to the sensation. She can't work her head around why it's so pleasant. Can't unearth enough rationale to question Aki's forecast, either, when her mind is bogged down by how her voice rings so near, so clear, so sure. You'll get there, too — not a condescension, not a tossed together dream sprinkled into a mixing bowl, whisked into a sorry simulacrum. But something tangible she can squeeze her arms around, nuzzle her face into. Something that will happen, is happening, is squeezing her back. And, somehow, the fact that it's Aki of all people that's providing this 'experience' to her is the least surprising thing about this predicament.

No, what's taken the cake are the digits thickly retreating and jamming between her legs. How their insertion, the thrusting, though purposeful, isn't mindlessly violent. There aren't any brains on the floor, no blood swimming from her nose. When Aki crooks her fingers, pulses against her, the edge of both her fingers almost rubbing each other through that wall, lurching, wringing out her juices, the suffering isn't exceptional. For whatever reason, she can sense Aki's attention and care to her comfort, and it's that which ignites the feverish backwards swaying of her hips. Her hand gropes behind her, grabbing at Aki's ass, dragging her in as fingers dig into her supple flesh, certain to leave behind a five-fingered dimple in her cheek whenever she lets go.

She gasps for air, and it doesn't hurt to breathe. Maybe it doesn't have to. ]

Take me — ah, take me there…! A-ki —

[ Torso slightly lifting off from the mattress, Denji growls her name around her bitten, swollen lips, while palming her own breast, thumb pushing and teasing at a nipple. Her culminating need amounts to her legs spreading wider for Aki, foot close to hanging off the edge of the bed, toes curled into the air.

She thinks she gets it now. Whoever it was that came up with the idea this was a dog eat dog world probably should have had better sex. ]

[With no effort at all, she's able to say the most shameless, embarrassing things, and the grasp to her ass that sends a spark of brief pain through her skin brings Aki in close to that voice. She needs a hand to hold herself up and she needs a hand to fuck her with and that means she can't simply push her hand away and instead can only move toward her, feel her breath as she moans and lifts off the mattress. It exposes her throat and it's where she immediately wants to go, but she's not the kind of person who bites from the spot with the most icing on the donut. She'll save the best spot for last, instead leaning in to kiss against the sides of her lips, coax her into turning her head to bring her over the edge.]

Denji - [Such a needy kid, but it's fun to feed a dog who looks delighted at every bit of kibble you give them. Briefly she understands Makima's fascination with her, the way he can play with the end of her leash even as the collar is choking her. She kisses toward the middle of her lips and coaxes them open. Just, hopefully, she won't piss all over her bed.]

[ The brink is fast-approaching. She recognizes it distantly, can feel it coming on like her head's to the ground and the rumblings of a landslide are whispering to her ear. Strained, weak whimpers hiccup out of her with each swing and swish down of her body, just the slightest second out of rhythm with the sopping churn of Aki's digits, still electrifying the ridged nerves packed between her walls, still doing their worst.

When Aki bows in close to her, tips of her chest pressed to her shoulder blades, she feels the smallest adjustment to the angle of her fingers, but it's more than enough to get Denji groaning. Whining through her bitten lips, wishing they were face to face so she could paw and beat at her torso because it feels too good, too much. Then her kiss catches at the corner of her mouth, prompting bleary eyes to blink backwards at Aki, knowing without needing to exchange a word what she's after. Her lips arch forward, searching for that last savory bite of Aki to send Denji crashing and burning.

Oh —

Her body feels coiled, clenched, like it's climbing to the extremest of altitudes and she's subconsciously trying to conserve the oxygen in her lungs as warm pressure builds behind her scalp — up until their mouths connect, rough and lasting, Denji sucking on her lower lip, nose tipping into her cheek. She wails out, cunt doubling down around Aki, squeezing, squeezing, not caring whether another splash were to cascade down or a few fingers were to break. A little mess, a little abuse — she finds a bit of both makes coming even better. But nothing streams down Aki's arm this time, her orgasm dragging on longer for it. Simply a pile of gasps and twitching limbs, she shivers sharply against Aki, would probably fall limply forward into the mattress if she weren't still holding on to her.

If she'd known that sex could be this easy, pleasure this bottomless, she would have knocked on Aki's door a long time ago.

After a few minutes, Denji heaves a weighty breath. She hasn't fully recollected her brain cells, really, but she starts to stickily untwist herself from Aki, turning, so that she can flop on her back. Hands at Aki's waist, trying to pull her down along with her. ]

…Lemme do you.

[It's always exciting to experience an orgasm through a kiss. Denji's body flexes and bends and flinches as it runs through her and Aki doesn't shy away from her lips, eagerly (eagerly? crap, this really did become "eager" at some point) swallowing up the noises she makes and the breaths that leak out. She only backs off when Denji does, briefly nipping her lip as they separate before setting her head down on the bed, slipping her fingers free. She can feel her arousal soaking her enough to give her raisins on the pads of each one that was inside her. But then Denji is tugging her over her, coaxing her up and on top of her body. Maybe she wants to cuddle again...? She moves without much pause, then raises her brows at her declaration.]

...I'm older than you, you know. I don't bounce back that quickly. [She settles her legs on either side of her but doesn't put any weight on her body, doesn't use her as a seat.] Didn't expect you to, either. [Not that she's shaming her, it was just... surprising. In fact, they're in the opposite situation to how this all began, aren't they? After a moment, she admits,] I thought you just wanted to get warm. Not get off again.

I — like getting off.

[ Put simply, rasped by a glassy-eyed Denji, breaths still licking up her parched throat in accelerated waves. That's probably the only answer she needs to explain herself. But eyes drawn up to Aki, Denji's head cushioned by her pillow, body nestled comfortably in her bed, sandwiched between her legs — she finds it all too easy to run her mouth. Sleepily, she slides up from Aki's ankle to the interior of her thigh, fingers rubbing at the fine grittiness coating her otherwise soft skin. ]

Sometimes, if I put the work in, I can do a few at a time. Not so much after I moved out here, since I'm so busy being a working class citizen now — which bites. Usually, I just wanna take a long nap right after the first go.

[ So its become more of a procedural thing. Something to titillate her imagination, reset her brain, end the night on a peak. And if she feels extra good, that's just another cherry to enjoy. Who knows if it's like that for other folks, though. Note to self, ask Aki one of these days. ]

But I thought, with you, I could do it. You really can't go again?

[Then Denji gets it. The exhaustion that takes over you, as a "working class citizen." Aki wants to argue that she wouldn't give herself such a title, she's at least middle class, but with her fingers traveling, she settles for giving her a tired look at her insistence.]

I don't push it, since I'm satisfied with one. There's such a thing as over-consumption.

[Denji will never understand such a concept. Aki shifts her hips opening her legs up and all at once allowing Denji's fingers against her.]

You've got five minutes, but if I'm still tired by then, then we're going to bed. Got it?

[ Denji won't ever understand the concept, particularly where Aki's concerned. Her life is so short, and she's always so flippant about giving her time, like they're grains falling away into the ground. There's no limit to what she'll never be able to taste or try or hold in her arms. How could she want to stop? She could tell Denji that she simply has different priorities, that sex isn't life or death the same way it is for her, and it'd still be mind-boggling.

Her gaze glimmers up at Aki, hawk-eyed, as if expecting the tiniest itch of Aki's arm to escalate into her abandoning the perch she's taken above Denji. If she weren't dipping each one of her fingers against her tongue, carefully wetting them, she'd pout. ]

What the hell… [ She traces the curve of Aki's slit, gently rocking the heel of hand in without pushing inside. Seeming to have learned her lesson. ] You'd just leave in the middle?

[There's something cute about the way Denji licks her fingers, wetting each one before her hand reaches down and plays low at her folds, doesn't push in immediately. She's learning, Aki thinks, but doesn't comment on. Sitting up on her arms like this might be something she regrets later, but for now, she's telling herself this will all end with Denji blueballed, so who cares?]

If you can't figure it out, I'm not going to sit here and be your test run all night long. We have work in the morning.

[She shifts her legs, splaying them out and open a little further.]

Besides, this is my room... I'm the one who let you come in here. [So Denji will be sent away, instead of Aki leaving.] You think you can?

[ The leisure upwards kneading of her fingers stutters, stalling for a heartbeat. She can't refute that this is Aki's room, that she's been welcomed into her entire apartment, and everyday she falls asleep in sheets that woman chose. But this whole thing is a big deal to Denji, and she's still thinking about work at a time like this? Maybe she's intentionally riling her up to some uncertain end — but she's not particularly talented at sussing that sort of thing out.

Sulkily, a crease flourishes in the center of her brow, the rubbing at Aki's cunt picking back up again, meaner, middle finger ajar from the rest; the sultry gap between her folds was already wide from the spread of her legs, but now she lets her touch ride her slickness. Still without pushing in. ]

Are you always this bitchy to the people you sleep with? Or do I get special treatment?

[...Bitchy... Aki stares down at her, jaw clenched with the attempt to hold back a grimace. It doesn't work well. Before Denji can get much further, can even get close to pushing in, Aki sits upright off of her and leans back toward her nightstand.]

You get special treatment.

[She digs around for a moment before finding what she's after, bringing it back and dropping it onto the bed beside Denji: a wand vibrator, simple and uncomplicated. If she's going to complain about Aki's attitude, then she'll make it uncomplicated and straightforward.]

Use that.

[ Denji looses a half-distraught noise at Aki's absence, hand pawing uselessly at the air where she was once perched. Just as she's pushing up on an elbow, she gets a eyeful of vibrator; she stares at it, mouth pulled back, as if Aki whipped her across the face with the toy. ]

…You're not gonna let me touch you?

[ Is she trying to say that the vibrator could do a better job of making her feel good? Though she continues staring, expression complicated, Denji does unwillingly take hold of it, testing its lift with a light waver of her hand. ]

[Given the dark look that comes over Aki's face, the mental image she has of smacking Denji's head against the wall may as well be playing out on a projector from her eyes.]

You're such a needy brat. Get moving before I throw you out.

[Honestly, this is giving her flashbacks to the way Himeno would look at her, crawled up against her in bed and cooing at her endlessly for another round, all the whining when told he couldn't put it in... Aki reaches out to grab the toy, her hand wrapping around Denji's as she finds the control for it and switches it on.]

Start low. Here. [And she settles herself back over her, guiding her hand down with an impatient tug.]

[ Aki's violent imagination could be painted from wall to wall, illustrating her frustration with her in bold, bloody lashes, and Denji would still tilt and turn her head at her in complete confusion. Her neck fluffs back against the pillow but she couldn't be more uncomfortable, eyeing the humming wand, vibration set to its default intensity. The buzzing, discreet enough to avoid penetrating outside the room.

Moving, as she's been so kindly urged to, Denji lines the vibrator's silicone bulb to the wet-brimmed opening of her pussy, her hold on the handle unsteady for a second as she nudges aside one of her lips, not confident about the placement. ]

Gettin' to it, [ she testily snaps, her free hand sat on the corner of Aki's inner thigh, thumb stretching out her skin in an attempt to keep her spread. ] Don't throw me out…

[Denji presses the vibrator against her and it's maybe a good thing that she has her hand on the inside of her thigh, keeping her tugged open. Her immediate instinct is to pull her legs shut, surprised by the sudden buzz of the toy as her back bows slightly to attempt to angle the head better. She really shouldn't have given this option to her while she was on top.]

Like that - Good. [Her hips flinch a little from a brush against oversensitive parts, her body fluttering around the vibration as she tries to find a comfortable position. The hand grasping Denji's wrist tries to tug her up further, closer to her clit.] Yeah - That's better. [Her face is growing flushed because this isn't something she reaches for very often. It's a little too strong but, kept at its default speed, it should be fine... Right?]

Yeah? [ Her touch travels up, massaging, squeezing, flattening over Aki's stomach, feeling the twitch of her muscles reacting to the sensation. She could mistake her for fighting against it. ] What about it?

[ With Aki's insistence leading Denji, she shifts the vibrator, watching her nub redden like the cracked pit of a fruit with the direct pulsations, a pale slick already generously coating the head. Technically, that sight could be answer alone to her question, but that isn't what she's talking about here. ]

I mean — how's it feel? Compared to when I do it. Can't really touch you like that… [ A pout pushes at her lips, her thumb playing with the toy's controls — she doesn't really know her way around this thing, but it seems her tapping is met with success. She can feel the vibrations more harshly through the handle now, tingling her fingers — it almost sounds like one of her chainsaws, purring with the strength of something that can cut through anything. ] Or make ya feel like this.

[The change in vibrations is just enough to eke out a quiet groan, the way Denji concentrates it right on her clit making her legs twitch and shiver harder. She reaches down to grab her wrist and try to pull her back a little. Push her down against the opening of her cunt - but that doesn't really lessen the sensation at all, only changes the direct spot it hits. Aki shifts her hips up as if searching for the right place to settle.]

It's not - Just... It's not like that, it's... [What is she answering, again? Something silly and idiotic that she doesn't really care about. Something about assuaging Denji's anxieties. The vibrator nudges a little further into her when she shifts and her body echoes the sensation all the way up to her spine and it's all she can do not to flop right over. God, actually, that would be better than struggling on her elbows. Without asking or warning she lowers herself down on top of Denji, her chest pressing into hers as she presses her mouth against her neck. Not so much kissing as mouthing.] Just keep going. Like that. [She's never attempted conversation while using a vibrator before. Now she knows why.]

[ Oomph. ]

Heavy —

[ For the unexpected weight burdening her chest, sinking her deeper into the comforter, it doesn't bother Denji as much as her complaining might imply. She tolerates it, if only for the magnified view of Aki struggling to get more than one word out, the curious quiver of her thighs rubbing together as if trying to spark a chemical reaction, numbly arching into the toy for more. Each breath of hers wrapping around her throat, around another spoiled demand. It's eye-opening. Maybe she likes Aki bitching at her, after all.

Fighting off Aki's pull at her wrist, she reduces the push of the vibrator, drawing it away by the smallest fraction, just enough for Aki to feel the dangle of it out of her reach. The head slides up Denji's crotch, the untrimmed patch of hair there, and she wheezes shortly at the foreign sensation, squirming under her, nipples butting up against Aki's breasts. At this setting, it's too much; she's not sure if she likes it any better or less than Aki's fingers tweaking her, but maybe it's because she's still recovering — and, anyway, this isn't about what she likes. Aki's proximity opens Denji to move her free hand, her touch grazing down the sticky underside of her ass. At the same time that she caresses her pussy, she lumps two of her fingers together, plunging into her opening, Denji shoves the vibrator back up, not quite humming fully against her clit, but forced into the bottom side of it.

Mouth dipped down, letting her teeth skim Aki's ear: ]

You — slut. You just keep this thing next to your bed? When I'm… right next door. Y'could just call me over.

unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

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