Work Text:
With time ticking away, a strict countdown till Aki needs to head back, it doesn’t deter him from taking the time to tease you.
Cock sliding up and down your slit, tip firm and wet from you, delicious friction against your clit stealing a whine from your parted lips.
You can’t see him smile, but you can feel it.
Nimble fingers pull your hair to the side, tugging at the hem of your shirt so he can pepper kisses at the nape of your neck and you whisper his name like a prayer. Those same expert fingers dance downward, across your clothing, eliciting a shudder from you every time the pads of them graze your exposed skin.
Your flushed cheek pressed against the cool surface of the wall does nothing to keep you from sweating – it’s so hard to keep still when all you want to do is crane your head back and watch his face, pinched in concentration, as he inches his way into you.
He mumbles a praise and pulls away, the absence of his length against you one you sense immediately – before you can complain, he replaces his cock with his hand. Fingers working your clit with a fervor, he presses his palm against you harder, harder and you ride him – grinding slowly like you’ve got all the time in the world.
Lunch break is over in twenty, and yet, you’re here, half naked in the entrance of your apartment, bones liquifying as an orgasm travels through every nerve of your body.
“Aki – fuck –” you curse, barely able to get the words out of your mouth before he’s slipping those same fingers into your mouth so you can taste yourself. Taste just what the skilled hands of a seasoned devil hunter can do to you.
He’s fully clothed, completely put together aside from the jacket he’s neatly hung on the hook beside you (sleeves unbuttoned and pushed to his elbows as he goes to work), and the belt, now undone, hard-on freed and ready for your pleasure.
Meanwhile, you’re a mess, clothes askew, hair tangled from foreplay. Sweat stains on your shirt, wrinkles throughout the fabric, arousal spots on your underwear. You can't help but be in a state of disarray when it comes to Aki.
“Spread for me,” he murmurs the gentle command against your neck, sucking the skin with a pop of his mouth, sure to leave a mark hidden by your hair.
You almost listen, but you’re so sensitive that you can’t – you clench your legs together as best you can, though his thigh between your legs keeps your knees from touching.
“Please.”
It’s hard for you to not obey when he asks so sweetly.
You scoot your feet farther apart, spreading for him.
The heat of his chest leaves your back for a moment as he takes a good look at you. You take advantage of the absence and crane your neck around, watching the faint hunger in his stormy blue eyes as he appraises you – hands against the wall, bent over, cunt wet and prepped for him.
Cool, calm, and collected, Aki takes you.
Digging a thumb into the fabric half covering your pussy, he tears it to the side, hands splaying on both cheeks as he holds you open.
You can’t help but moan when he leans down and licks a long, firm swipe from bottom to top – even more so when he spouts a second command.
“Spit,” he says, voice hoarse with need. You spit, and crane back to get a glimpse of your saliva lubing up his tip and shaft, mixing with a bead of precum that’s all your doing.
You feel his free hand swipe your cheek with a gentle touch, tugging damp strands of hair away from your face. And there’s the well-concealed softness you’ve grown to love about Aki.
Rough hands and the ghost of a smile. Blunt words and vulnerable eyes. Revenge and yearning. Desperation and desire.
Aki is a paradox that you want to spend the rest of your days analyzing.
Nearing fifteen minutes on the countdown, you brace for the initial stretch, the beyond satisfying sensation of Aki’s cock molding you to him a memory you’re grateful to relive as many times as Aki’s up for.
“Shit –” he hisses, sinking himself into you, deeper, deeper , hands grasping desperately at your hips.
“Oh my god, Aki, baby –” you can barely speak, it’s so good.
You adjust around him, lids fluttering shut when he finally bottoms out. You hold your arch while he slides out at a torturous pace, the ridge of his tip the only part of him left in you when –
He pushes all the way back in, filling you again and you gasp. You can’t hold it in – you’re so full but the ache hasn’t subsided, one that’s only satiated by him ramming his hips into you while grumbling expletives into your ear.
“Harder, please,” you manage, mouth forming loose shapes around your cries.
“Of course. As you wish,” he answers with a pant, curling an arm around your waist, pulling you flat against him.
He bucks up into you at a maddening pace, hips snapping into you unrelentingly. You can’t stop your jaw from going slack as you take it – take all of it from your lover.
His hand wanders its way under your shirt, past the cup of your bra till he’s massaging a tit and pinching a nipple with precision, fucking up into you as he does so, never breaking his concentration.
It’s a futile effort to do anything but mewl Aki’s praises – yes, just like that, you’re so good .
He’s humble enough that he’d never ask you to compliment his form, but god – when you do? He makes it a personal goal to improve.
Aki fucks you even better than the last time, breaking his imaginary personal record, so that this time is even more memorable than the last.
You tilt back to kiss him, sloppy kisses with tongues intertwined. He tastes like the piece of nicotine gum he’s just spit out and a hint of his morning coffee, bitter and bold.
Ten minutes left, and you’re still not there. You murmur a request to move, and he obliges, walking you over to the neat kitchen counter so you can hike a leg up.
Bending forward to brace your hands on the counter, you wait for him again. This time, you can watch him comfortably, watch as his face contorts as he pushes into you, watch as his mouth parts, watch as his gaze clouds with lust that sends tingles up your spine like nails dragging up bare skin.
He’s more desperate this time, pushing into you with a hurried stroke.
The clock ticks, and you’re focusing on anything you can to get yourself there.
The feeling of his hand holding your thigh in place on the countertop, the other on the small of your back, anchoring himself as he fucks into you with fervor. The sound of his cock as it slides in and out of your slick heat. The soft grunts he emits as he picks up speed.
The fact that he could fuck anyone, coworker or stranger, but there’s only you.
You jut back against him, and the broken moan that falls from his lips drives you wild.
The clock ticks, and it’s nearly time for him to leave – he’s never late, and he’s not going to start now, even if he’s in the middle of fucking you senseless.
The second hand lags behind the the steady (but frenzied) beat Aki fucks you to. It’s fast, it’s wild, it’s everything you need.
You feel it build in you, gripping onto whatever you’re able with sweaty palms. Your thigh slides towards Aki, skin slippery against the counter.
Pinning you down, he drives into you – you’re close, so close as he starts to curl his hips –
Pressure builds and then it snaps like a twig beneath the weight, your mind all consumed with the overwhelming pleasure that bursts inside of you, a dam that floods every one of your senses. He’s kissing your neck and gripping your waist and tickling your ear with a breathy compliment that zaps every nerve in your body –
“You’re so good for me, love, come for me – that’s it – come for me."
And you do.
Legs squeezing, pulse so fast that you’re surprised your heart hasn’t completely burst in your chest. Features pinched as you ride out your wave, cumming on his cock while his hips pump erratically.
Despite the reverie of your own climax, you’re not greedy. In the haze, you register the time on the clock. He should be gone by now.
You can feel his orgasm on the horizon, so you do what you do best – work him, tease him, coax it out of him.
Straightening up till your back is pressed against his chest, you roll your hips, writhing against him as best you can, whimpering in the way he likes and it’s working.
“Come in me, Aki, please, I need you.”
That’s all it takes.
A simple request, an earnest plea, and a sincere line straight from the heart, all cushioned around the syllables of his name.
That’s all it takes for Aki Hayakawa to come undone.
He spills into you, garbled groans whispered against your neck.
You think he says he loves you, but you can’t be sure. Your focus is split between the countdown and the comedown.
The tiny kitchen is filled with heavy breathing from the both of you, ricocheting against the walls.
He should be leaving, but he takes the time to press a sweet kiss on your shoulder before pulling out of you, treating you like you’re so delicate you’ll break beneath his hands – it’s almost comical that he does so considering how roughly he’d fucked you mere seconds ago.
Gently twisting you till you’re facing him, he slides his hands underneath your ass, lifting you to the counter. Your legs are jelly, and your pussy is full, and you’re sure Aki would hate this if he really thought about how you’re defiling his spotless kitchen, but in the foggy afterglow, all he’s doing is smiling gratefully at you.
“You’re going to be late,” you say, voice quiet.
“I can come up with an excuse.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” he murmurs, cupping your cheek with his hand.
He’s late now, but all that matters is the way he’s watching you with a loving expression (a product of the afterglow), cradling you like you’re breakable, treating you like you’re the only thing consequential, like nothing else matters.
Leaning in for a final kiss, you taste him again, minty and sharp, committing this to memory, so that every sense of him lingers in your mind when you think of today.
This is his best work. A new personal record.