#avi.asks

fully unedited and unformatted nonsense; cw mentions of denji's unsanitary room + mentions of oral sex. sorry my brain went comedically unsexy and then abruptly stopped lmao i fear tonight is not the night for my debut as a mid porn writer. EDIT: something weird happened with formatting on reblogs and it switched the order of two paragraphs fuck my stupid baka life?! ----

“You really don’t need to help with this, you know. Denji’s disgusting.”

Aki grimaces, lifts a wad of used tissues with a gloved hand and tries not to think too hard as he drops it into the trash bag. Denji’s growing into an almost-respectable housemate – he even washes his own dishes more often than not, these days – but Aki’s opted not to take any chances on an upcoming landlord walkthrough. A decision vindicated by the sheer volume of porn strewn across the spare bedroom floor.

“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I mean, yeah, this is pretty nasty,” – you wrinkle your nose as you fish a crumpled onigiri wrapper out from under the bed – “but I wanted to see you this weekend. This is worth it.”

He shoots you an incredulous look even as he feels warmth swell through his chest. “If you say so.” Aki pauses, considers voicing his intention to make this up to you, but he’s interrupted by your snort of laughter. You’re bent over a magazine… turning the pages? God, why are you looking through that? Why are you even touching it?

“Didn’t you say Denji can’t read?”

“He can’t,” Aki confirms. He’s almost reassured. Maybe you’ve found some sorely misplaced literature and aren’t casually poring over his roommate’s pornography–

“So why does he have this folded open to ‘Five Foolproof Strategies to Make Her Squirt on Your Face?’ Is squirting even a real thing?” You laugh again, and Aki’s grateful that it covers the strangled noise he makes. Surely you’re not asking your boyfriend of a few months about squirting while you’re both hunkered over a teen boy’s pile of trash. Surely there’s toxic mold in the refuse littered across Denji’s floor, and Aki’s freshly infected brain hallucinated you saying that.

“I mean, oral can’t feel that good, can it?” you muse. He’s certain it’s toxic mold, now, because he imagines that your voice sounds almost like you’re trying to convince yourself of what you’re saying. He imagines a thoughtful crease in your brow, genuine curiosity in your eyes as you skim through the article.

“I- You would know better than me, I think,” he manages. He tries to play it casual, breathes a half-laugh through his nose. He doesn’t want to think about this on the floor of Denji’s filthy room. Really doesn’t want to think about this with you on the floor of Denji’s filthy room. So it gets worse when you hesitate and admit quietly that no, you wouldn’t know better. You must notice the way his mouth falls open, because you repeat yourself.

“I really wouldn’t know. My exes weren’t into that stuff.” There's resignation in your voice, and his gut twists. He doesn’t want to talk about this on the floor of Denji’s filthy bedroom, but he can’t let it go now, either.

“They never tried? None of them? Is that-” He catches himself. “Was that something you wanted?”

“I don’t know,” you say cautiously. “It just... It felt weird to ask more than once, you know? It’d be embarrassing, if I was all persistent and then it was gross for them, or something-”

He scoffs. “It wouldn’t be.”

“Embarrassing?” you question, and he feels his cheeks warm. Shit.

“It wouldn’t be gross,” he clarifies, and his gut twists again at your skeptical expression. Like you don’t believe him. He’s not sure where he’s going with this anymore; there’s heat creeping down the back of his neck, warning him that he’s getting into dangerous territory. You and Aki haven’t talked about sex yet, not really. This is new. This is new, so he shouldn’t be thinking about how he wants to knock out whoever made you feel bad about yourself. He definitely shouldn’t be thinking about how he wants to prove that taking care of you like that wouldn’t be gross. Or about how soft your thighs look in shorts, how soft they might feel propped over his shoulders while he nuzzles into you. How pretty you’d look while a tongue – his tongue – lathes over your folds for the first time in your life. How sweet you’d sound, and how sweet you’d taste, and- Shit. Fucking mold.

He catches you staring, looking mortified, and you start to stammer.

“Aki, I- I’m not asking, if that’s what you think. I swear I’m not asking. Please forget I even told you that. God, I’m supposed to be here helping you-”

He crosses the room while you’re rambling. Presses the magazine closed and slips it from your hands, then steels himself.

“Do you really want me to forget it?”

You blink. “What?”

“If you want me to forget, I will. But if you’re just embarrassed, you shouldn’t be.” Fuck. Here goes. “You said you didn’t want to ask your exes more than once. That means you did ask, right?”

You wince, then nod weakly.

I don't think he's weird about it but I also want him to be a bit weird about it, sorry. Love the thought of him being conflicted because he's protective of you; he's unsure of whether he deserves something so precious but he's also certain that no one else would be as gentle or thoughtful with you as he would. Gets in his head about making things perfect for you and is quietly a wreck leading up to it...

NSFT. unedited. unformatted. cw oral sex (receiving) bc I'm making up for not writing smut for your other ask 😭

You’d suggested this trip to help Aki unwind. A few days away from the chaos and bloodshed of Tokyo Public Safety, spent instead in the warm waters off the coast of Kunigami. Just the two of you, walking the botanical gardens, watching the whale sharks at Churaumi Aquarium, searching hand-in-hand for the quietest beaches on the peninsula.

That had been the plan, at least. Before the 90-minute drive from Naha to Motobu, with the sun caressing Aki's face while his hand caressed your bare thigh. Before he'd insisted on carrying his and your luggage up to the hotel room and then peeled off his sweat-slick tee without warning. You'd meant to freshen up and enjoy the town's sights together, but then he'd smiled at you, sweet and sun-molten, and told you how glad he was to be here with you. How could you not kiss him senseless about it?

You've since lost count of how many times he's made you come. It's a mercy that this hotel has a Western style bed; you're grateful that you can reach back and anchor yourself to the frame, let the plush mattress cushion your back when Aki lifts your thighs over his shoulders and groans into your cunt. Your ears are still ringing from your last orgasm when he licks into you, and you squeal, half overstimulation and half delight.

So this is how Aki fucks when there's no need to save his strength for anything else. When there's no mission other than you.

With nowhere else to be, Aki takes his time. He kisses your sex the way he kisses your mouth – presses sweet, tender pecks to your lips before tracing his tongue over the seam of you and plying you open. He sighs at your taste, just the same as when he kisses your mouth. And you whimper just the same, too.

God, Aki, it's so good– Don't stop. You're so good, I love you– I love you so much–

Aki whines. You can tell he wants to pull back to answer you, but you'd said it – don't stop. So he instead reaches to lace your fingers together and sucks your clit into his mouth the way he knows you love. When you shatter against him, he keeps a steadying hand on your hip and kisses you through it until you're done, drinking up everything you give him. Only then does he pull back, his smile slick with you, and answer I love you, too.

Your legs don't stop trembling. You think your lip trembles, too, when Aki cradles your cheek in his palm and asks if you need a break. Even with the blunt head of his cock pressing wet and insistent against your thigh, throbbing from neglect, he puts you first. He always does, so you shake your head and press your wet entrance upward until you're flush with his tip.