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Could today just end already?
The grating blare of the coffee grinder filled your ears as you glanced up at the clock, and it took a moment for the blurred amalgamation of numbers and lines to make any sense. Four O’clock. Only an hour left to go, but considering how long every hour felt here, your spirits didn’t lift.
You poured the steamed milk until a leaf design you considered somewhat decent appeared amidst the foam, and you slid the stoneware mug onto the counter with a tired smile.
“Medium café latte for –”
“Actually, I’ll get that to go.”
It was a good thing that the businessman standing at the drink pick-up was so absorbed in texting, because he couldn’t see the way your smile slid off your face, fingers wrinkling the fabric of your apron.
You couldn’t have brought that up at any point before I finished making that?
You took a deep breath, counting in your head before some snide comment could slip out. You really weren’t in the mood to get a customer complaint today. A tight feeling in your chest, you poured your work into a to-go cup, the delicate leaf crumpling away. Your fingers had scarcely left the Styrofoam before it was snatched off the counter, the man slamming a lid on it and bustling away, chattering in his earpiece as he went.
“Yeah, I’m back. Sorry, the barista’s nice to look at but it’s slow as hell…”
You pretended not to hear it.
The café was almost deserted by this point in the day, besides a spattering of students typing away in the far corners, their abandoned cold brews and pastries sitting beside their laptops. You didn’t mind. They were quiet, and at least they didn’t cuss you out when you asked them to leave at closing time.
You began tidying up, washing the pile of cups and plates in the sink before mopping the floor. You wouldn’t touch the machines, knowing that if you did, the universe would send a customer five minutes before close rearing to order a dozen cappuccinos with extra espresso or something absurd.
Spurred by boredom, your mind drifted back to old memories, as it often did in idle moments like these. Back to twisting, unending halls inhabited by nightmarish creatures pulled from the deepest recesses of one’s psyche. Back to darting and weaving through shadows in your mask and costume, heart thundering with the thrill of it all.
You had been a hero, once, a vigilante standing up to a world of corrupt ideals.
You couldn’t say the same thing, now.
The team had gone their separate ways. It was temporary, of course. Everyone departed with promises to meet up again in Shibuya after pursuing their dreams. Even you had your dream, bright-eyed and eager.
It had been almost four years since then.
Ryuji completed his physical therapy, his career as an athlete quickly taking off thereafter; Ann had finished fashion school and came out with her first clothing line, with massive success; Makoto, Haru, and Futaba all graduated from their chosen universities and were celebrating with their found families…
And here you were, working part-time in some small town coffeeshop with no real plans or expectations for your future.
You had no intention on returning. Ever.
Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t – couldn’t – go back. You doubted anyone wanted to see you again anyways after the stunt you pulled, going radio silent and running off into the night as if you were some sort of shitty ex.
That was a month ago. And no one had managed to contact you yet, so you thought you were doing pretty well on that whole ‘disappearing’ front.
You had taken every feasible step you could to cover your footsteps. It was meticulous. Everything from changing your phone to making transactions in cash and outright avoiding the internet altogether. You were well aware of some of the member’s more… stalkerish habits. They did not make disappearing easy.
Even though you knew that the whole team, well-intentioned as they were, would help to pull you out of this funk without hesitation, you refused to let them witness you at your lowest while they were all entering some of the best years of their lives.
You dunked the mop into the bucket, watching the soapy water cloud with dirt. Your shoulders sagged with the weight of it all.
…Did your persona even exist anymore, or had it fizzled out with the rest of your spirit?
Dark spots danced at the edges of your vision, and you shook your head. Passing sips of a lukewarm coffee and a cookie hadn’t made for a good substitution for lunch, but you hadn’t bothered packing anything when you wouldn’t have had time to sit down and eat until the day was over, anyway. Besides, you got a free coffee and snack once per shift. It was just being time-efficient and cost-effective.
“Good evening.”
You startled. So immersed in dissociating into the wet floor, you hadn’t noticed the chime of the door’s bell. You whipped around, ignoring how the room tilted and your head throbbed at the motion, and flashed a customer-ready smile.
“Hi! How’s your day been?” The cheery greeting flowed out on instinct – a weak façade of interest considering you didn’t even bother to look up.
Already your fingers were reared to punch in the customer’s order, muscle memory kicking in. They’d say ‘good’ or ‘how are you’ or ignore you altogether and you’d move on with your life –
“Pretty awful, actually. Don’t even get me started on my week.” A smooth voice filled your ears, their light tone in contrast with their words.
Your mind stuttered as your usual script immediately fell apart – because what the hell were you supposed to say to that.
“Oh, um, sorry.” You looked up, “We have pastries, or a hot drink if you’d like –”
Oh.
A group of students in the corner glanced back as they left, giggling and blushing, and it wasn’t hard to see why. The man standing before you was unfairly handsome, his light brown hair styled in an intentionally effortless way that framed his face in soft waves. His trench coat was of foreign design, some designer brand in style overseas, and the watch on his wrist accentuated his lean forearm and long fingers.
Shit.
He was taller than you remembered, looking down at you even as he leaned one hand on the counter. Familiar warm brown eyes were soft as they held your stare, his head tilted in innocent curiosity while you gawked at him, stunned.
Akechi Goro smiled, a kind, gentle thing.
And you knew you were fucked.
His attention shifted to the menu overhead, providing a moment of respite while your body caught up to the shock running though your system. “My week started off quite well, actually," he mused, his eyes sliding back to you, “I graduated. Harvard Law.”
You flinched, wringing your hands, your mind racing a mile a minute without managing to reach a single coherent thought. “Congratulations, Sir.”
His smile turned even more dazzling, so much so it was hard to look at head-on, and you knew you had just shoved your whole foot in your mouth.
“Hm, why thank you, Miss.” His fingers drummed along the counter, adding to your growing unease as you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. “I’ll have a cup of your light roast, medium, with cream.”
Nodding, you mechanically processed his order and began preparing his drink, feeling his stare running across your back like a physical touch. You doubted he was impressed by your coffee-stained apron and plain black, corporate-approved outfit.
“I invited a good friend of mine to the ceremony," he hummed, and you paused, your shoulders tensing as you held the cup beneath the brewer’s nozzle. “But she never responded. Isn’t that sad?”
Your movements stuttered as the cup overflowed, scalding your fingers, and you carefully poured out some to make space for the cream.
“I’m… sorry to hear that," you murmured, and you hoped he didn’t hear the quiver in your voice. “You must have been disappointed.”
“You know, I really was.” He’d drifted over to the drink pick-up now. His voice was casual, as if he were discussing the weather. You knew otherwise. “It turns out, while I thought she was away at university, following her dream like she promised me when I left, she’d actually dropped out. Mere weeks before finishing, she had quit all of her classes, changed her number, and left without a word. She just…” he waved a hand vaguely, “dropped off the face of the earth.”
The words dug into you like arrows, and you hunched in on yourself, thankful your back acted as a sort of barrier. He continued on, “And because we were such good friends, no one even thought to tell me. Because out of anyone in our team, she surely would have reached out to me.”
You blinked away the burning sensation behind your eyes and fought to take even, steady breaths. This couldn’t be happening. How did he even find you? You weren’t ready to face any of the Phantom Thieves again – and you especially weren’t ready to face him.
It had been a long, monotonous, depressing day. You were tired, and definitely not prepared for this kind of direct full-frontal assault. And he knew it. The scheming shit had to have planned on catching you off guard.
So, you did what you were familiar with: you put up your walls and you ignored your issues.
Eyes glued to the counter, you placed his drink down, already lidded and sleeved in a take-out cup. “Medium light roast. To go," you announced, even though he was right in front of you.
Glancing around, the store was empty. Closing time. You wanted out of here. Away from this. Away from him. Away from this clawing guilt.
A hand gripped your wrist before you could pull away, holding you fast, and your eyes met his.
You swallowed, a shiver running down your back from something you wished was fear. But you relished in it. You wanted more than anything to just close your eyes and lean into his touch, to surrender and fall into what you remembered was one of of the most secure hugs you’d ever experienced back when you had beaten a particularly rough Shadow and adrenaline was running high.
And the worst part – you knew he would let you. Whether out of pity, or nostalgia, he would let you run into his arms.
You hated it. And you hated yourself even more for the way the sight of him made your chest constrict. All of your time away should have choked out this embarrassing one-sided attachment just like the rest of your naïve dreams, but it only seemed to have solidified it. You weren’t allowed to regret. You had chosen to do this. To move away without telling anyone. This was all your fault.
Something burning swirled in those warm brown eyes of his, boring into you, and you felt all the world like an insect pinned to a display. Trapped.
“Did you know, Ryuji even thought you might have gone overseas to stay with me?” He laughed, but there was no humour in it. “That’s what that idiot had thought. Isn’t that dumb?”
For the first time in your interaction, his charming mask cracked, and you glimpsed something raw and angry in his expression. Something betrayed.
And maybe even sad.
There was a pause, his eyes searching yours for… something. Remorse? An apology? You weren’t sure. All you felt was drained, as though someone had hollowed out your insides with a spoon.
You smiled, and you knew it didn’t reach your eyes. “I… I hope you have a better day, Sir.”
“Is that all you have to say?” His hand tightened on your wrist, and you winced.
Your vision blurred with tears. You swallowed, and it felt as if there were a stone lodged in your throat. Everything was heavy, the immense pressure of suddenly having to answer for your actions crippling in the wake of your exhaustion.
You couldn’t think of a response. Didn’t want to think at all.
“I’m sorry” – God were you sorry – “but it’s closing time.” You blinked, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. “You need to leave, Akechi.”
His eyes roved your face, taking in the eye bags, the slight shake to your hands, and the watery sheen of your eyes. He detangled his fingers from your wrist, and the air was so much colder than you remembered.
He took a breath, likely counting back from ten, and his shoulders relaxed. That calculated sort of calm returned to his face. Your stomach twisted.
“Of course," he droned. “If that’s what you want, Princess.”
The nickname made you prickle, fists clenching so hard your knuckles turned white. It was your alias, bestowed upon you as a result of your admittedly gaudy persona, and having it thrown in your face stung harder than you expected it to. He left before you could respond, the door jingling shut behind him.
You stared down at the counter’s fake marble, physically reminding yourself to breathe in, pause, then breathe out.
He wasn’t going to let this rest. Akechi was an intelligent man, cunning and calculating to a disconcerting extent. You were sure he knew a lost cause when he saw one. But above that, he was stubborn – and a sore loser to boot. You used to be able to match him with your own bullheadedness, but you weren’t sure you had the energy to keep up with him now.
You picked up the mop again. You were falling behind schedule.
…
You were falling behind.
.
.
.
.
.
.
You huffed as you turned the key, locking the shop’s door. The sun was just beginning to fall below the horizon, and the air was sharp in your lungs, the spring breeze still holding onto traces of winter. Shivering, you pulled your old sweater tighter around you.
With a grunt, you hauled the trash into the dumpster, flinching back as you glimpsed flashing eyes in the woods behind the café. Chittering met your ears as your sight adjusted to the dark, just making out a furry masked face, and you forced your hackles to lower. Just a raccoon-dog. One thing you couldn’t get used to after leaving central Tokyo was the wildlife. You would have to lock up the dumpster. Again.
Your heart dropped.
There were hands on your waist.
A scream you hadn’t thought yourself capable of erupted from your lungs as you found yourself suddenly hoisted into the air, falling ungracefully into an impromptu fireman’s carry, a shoulder jutting into your ribcage. You lashed out on instinct, adrenaline spiking, and your arm slammed uselessly against your attacker’s back.
Holyshityouwerebeingkidnapped –
Wait.
You knew that backside.
In fact, you had just seen it an hour ago.
All of the fight drained out of you in a sudden, dizzying rush. You had been so caught up in your thoughts you forgot. Akechi was calculating and stubborn – easily capable of playing the long game to get what he wanted – but at his core he was a wildcard. Of course he would pull a stunt like this. As the last of the adrenaline left your system, you couldn’t even say that you were running on fumes anymore. Forget tired, you were verging comatose.
“Akechi –” You squeaked as you were jostled, craning your neck and meeting the hard edge of Akechi’s glare.
“Princess?” His voice held none of its earlier politeness, falling into something curt. “Do yourself a favour and shut up. We’re going home.”
Oh he was mad.
Like, genuinely upset.
A couple of moments passed in tense silence, your body jostling as he walked. This was how it all ended. You were going to be hauled back like a toddler throwing a tantrum to face the people you had spent an embarrassing amount of effort to avoid. Already the team’s expressions hovered in your mind with terrifying clarity, well-meaning pity and disappointment, prying at the mess you had made.
“…’m sorry.”
The apology slipped out in your sleep-deprived delirium, surprising you both. His body froze beneath you, and you knew he was staring. Your lips trembled, and you pressed your palms to your feverish eyelids. Shit, you didn’t want to cry now, you were going to hold it in until you were at home and away from prying eyes, but this was all just so mortifying.
At your grown age, here you were, being hefted like a sack of potatoes by the man you’d been infatuated with for years – who must hate you for the trouble you put him through – just because you were too dumb to handle a couple of classes and too cowardly to talk to anyone in the wake of your abysmal failure.
“Look, Akechi, can’t you just leave me here? Please, I…” You sucked in a breath, propping your arms against his back to look up, face flushing as you realised that this position meant his head was next to your butt and you must have looked so ridiculous because the blood was rushing to your head –
And you were crying now. “I-I didn’t want you to see me like this. I failed my classes. I’m working a dead-end job in the middle of nowhere, and… shit, I don’t even know what I’m doing!” The words were tumbling out, a watery babbling of everything you’d held in when he’d walked into the store bursting forth like a sad, broken dam. “And you just show up looking so cool,” you hiccupped, “you graduated from fuckin’ Harvard and I’m sure you’ve already got a job in some swanky law firm somewhere awesome and here I am covered in coffee and I haven’t washed my hair in days and I couldn’t even give you a half-decent apology like an idiot and hguf –”
The air wheezed out of you as Akechi tilted to the side, interrupting your rambling to roll you off his shoulder. You stumbled when your feet met the ground, legs trembling like a foal, but his hands by your arms held you upright.
You sniffed, wiping your nose on your sleeve. Your stare remained affixed to his chest, unable to bear whatever expression was on his face.
“I’m pretty hopeless, ok? All I’ve been doing is mess up these days. Everyone else is achieving things and I’m just… here. I can’t see them again, not like this.” You sighed, “you’re just better off going home and forgetting about m –”
Your face was squished between two hands, cutting you off.
“Shut up.”
“But I’m trying to shay that I’m shorr –”
“Shut. Up.”
You pursed your lips, glaring as a spark of irritation flared in your chest. Rude.
Akechi frowned, brusquely wiping at the tear tracks along your cheeks with a scoff. “I couldn’t care less about your little pity party. You say you’re an idiot? Yeah, you’re an idiot.”
The words stung, and fresh wave of tears welled up in your eyes.
“Stop crying," he muttered, rubbing at them even more aggressively, tsking. Your cheeks felt sore. “You mess up a couple of times, so you just quit everything and run away? That’s stupid. You run off, alone at that, to who-knows-where without telling anybody? That’s stupid and dangerous. And why – because you were embarrassed?”
You pursed your lips, blushing as your eyes drifted awkwardly to the right of his head. Your silence confirmed his suspicions. His stare was intense, but the earlier steel in it had dissipated, replaced by something firm yet soft that made your heart flutter. You hesitated, then nodded. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Allow me to clear this up.”
He pointed at you, one hand falling to your shoulder.
“I don’t give a singular fuck if you’re dumb, because I already knew that. You’re a skittish, weak, soft-hearted crybaby that would rather run away than face her issues.”
“Oh. Thanks Akechi," you deadpanned, rubbing your arm self-consciously, and he shook his head.
“Shut up, I’m not done," he snapped. “You can run away from everything. The Phantom Thieves, your school life, Tokyo – I don’t care. You’re an adult and you can make your own choices. Run away if you want.”
He stepped forwards and you stepped back, but the hand on your shoulder moved around your back, trapping you. He was unbearably close, so much so that you could count his eyelashes and smell the coffee on his breath. Your breath stuttered in your chest. It wasn’t fair for him to look that pretty while chewing someone out.
He continued, “Just know that every time you run away, no matter how far you go or how thoroughly you cover your tracks, I will hunt you down and I will drag you back to where you belong – by my side.”
You sniffled, the cogs turning in your head as your mind struggled to process Akechi’s skewed way of communicating his feelings.
“Um. I don’t know whether to be touched or scared right now," you admitted, rubbing your eyes. “But thanks. I think."
Akechi scoffed. “I’m not Joker. Inspirational isn’t really my forte.” He picked up your hand, holding it between you two as he seemed to inspect it. “But someone needs to keep you in line when you’re so determined to run yourself into the ground, and I doubt anyone else knows your bizarre thought process as well as I do. You’re my… friend, after all. I care about you.” The words came out awkwardly, as though painful to say.
He was never very good at talking about his feelings. Then again, neither were you.
You nodded along, touched, but if you were to be honest you were having trouble thinking. The pads of his fingers were rough against your skin, carefully maneuvering your hand this way and that as he brushed his thumb along your palm in feather-light motions. He paused at the angry patch of skin along your index finger, and heat coiled in your stomach as you took in the focused crease between his brows.
It was just like him to fuss over a burn so small you hadn’t even remembered it.
This man did horrible, delightful things to your heart without even knowing.
A breeze shifted past, and you gently detangled your hand from his in favour of crossing your arms close to your body. It was colder than you had anticipated – some combination of hubris and delusion that the season was closer to spring than it was winter despite the forecast saying otherwise – and you hadn’t packed a proper jacket.
Not that you were going to let Akechi see you shiver. He would, guaranteed, scold you for ‘neglecting to account for something so simple as the weather’ or the like. You could probably make the bus home, but it was going to be at least another fifteen minutes before the next one came…
Watching your internal struggle, Akechi sighed and opened the door to the sleek black car parked beside you on the street. Of course he has a car, you thought miserably, he probably has an excellent credit score, too.
“Get in," he said.
You tensed. “We’re going…?”
“Home.” He held up a hand as you moved to dart away. “Not Tokyo. Your apartment.” There was a smug edge to his expression as he eyed your sweater. “I figured you would need a ride… unless you’d rather walk?”
You swatted at his shoulder, and he didn’t bother to dodge it, holding up his hands with a chuckle. “You – You’re insufferable.” You hissed.
But despite your complaints, you quickly slid into the passenger’s seat and buckled in, sighing in relief as warmth quickly seeped into your bones. The seat heater was already on, you noticed, eyes half-lidded. Had he preheated the car while you were talking?
Akechi closed the door behind you and took the driver’s seat, that superior, cunning look still stuck to his face as he gloated over your poor decisions. “You know it’s only the first week of May, right? The last frost hasn’t even happened yet. And you didn’t even bring a coat?” He shook his head, tutting. “You never were good at planning ahead, Princess.”
Just like old times. It was as comforting as it was irritating.
You grunted in protest as he took off his jacket and unceremoniously tossed it on top of you, quietly appreciating the way his black long sleeve fit tight against his chest and shoulders in your periphery.
“Not a coatrack," you hummed, patting the coat into a makeshift blanket. It smelled like him. The warmth was making you sleepy, your eyelids heavy as you sunk deeper into the seat. “Good to see you haven’t changed. Still a jerk.”
Akechi looked at you out of the corner of his eye, starting the car and pulling into the road. “Oh, please, drop the tough act,” he mused. “I just watched you cry your eyes out. You might as well cut your losses and admit that you missed me.”
The fight for consciousness was a rapidly losing battle, stacked against you from the start considering your state of overwork combined with your accrued sleep deprivation, topped off with an emotional outpour that had left you completely and utterly tuckered out.
At least, that was what you would later claim to excuse the utter sap that came out of your mouth.
“Hm… ’m always missing you, ‘kechi," you murmured, your eyes slipping shut. You would just rest them for a minute, you reasoned – the drive home wasn’t very long.
Whatever Akechi said in response – probably some snide comment about you being cheesy and a crybaby – you didn’t catch it. The motions of the car had lulled you into unconsciousness.
.
.
.
.
.
.
You woke with a start, the blanket sliding off your lap and onto the floor. Looking down, you drowsily plopped it back on the sofa, gaze roving around. Your apartment was dark, the hum of your fridge and the ticking of your clock resonating together to create a familiar white noise. With a jaw-cracking yawn, you stretched, groaning as your joints popped.
You were still in the clothes you wore to work, and your mouth was dry. Thankfully, there was a glass of water on the coffee table. It was still cool, condensation gathered on the outside in large beads, and you took a long swig.
The space was small, your living room, dining room, and kitchen combined into a single space, so you could see the clock hanging above the fridge from where you sat. Two in the morning. You rubbed your neck. Memories slowly seeped back into your mind as the fog of sleepiness retreated – a normal day of work, the arrival of Akechi, your impromptu kidnapping, the spontaneous heart-to-heart and a drive back.
Akechi must have used your key and carried you inside. That was nice of him, albeit embarrassing.
Downing the rest of the water, you took the empty glass to the kitchen and placed it beside the sink. You would wash it in the morning. As you did so, you noticed the stack of dirty dishes you’d been putting off was gone. Akechi. You thought with an exasperated smile. That neat freak must have hated your apartment’s usual state of disarray – you’d been too overwhelmed with your atrocious work-life balance to add tidiness your list of worries.
You needed a shower and sleep. And in that order, because you were not crawling into bed feeling like a greasy rat.
Brushing your teeth before slipping off your clothes, you quickly cranked the heat up until the bathroom filled with steam and stepped under the stream, sighing in relief as you felt the grime and stress melt away with the hot water. Humming, you lathered, breathing in the relaxing scent of eucalyptus as you spread the soap along your body.
And as your hands wandered, so too did your mind. Touches began to linger. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to relieve some built-up stress before going to bed…
It wouldn’t have been the first time you touched yourself to the thought of him, and it wouldn’t be the last.
To be honest, your affections for Akechi had long since surpassed that of a crush years ago. Forget holding hands, or kissing, your thoughts were consumed by him. Horrible, depraved things that had dominated your waking and sleeping hours.
Back when you ran through the metaverse, Crow usually had you under his near-constant watch due to your (comparative) inexperience, being the newest in the group. But in the small moments when he wasn’t looking, your eyes roamed over the tight contours of his suit, and you could imagine the feel of his muscles shifting and flexing as he worked his hips over yours. Fantasies of pulling him into a safe room, having him pounding deep inside of you until you couldn’t form a coherent thought, watching you through the dark slits of his mask as you fell apart around him.
You groaned, leaning your head against the cool tiles of the shower. The space between your legs throbbed, aching.
The thoughts had only gotten worse with your time away, simple feelings of want rapidly blossoming into a dark, disgusting craving that you couldn’t seem to satiate no matter how often you masturbated. And now that you had seen him again, your mind had wasted no time in burning this newfound material to fuel the flames of your fantasies. You recalled the way his hands felt on yours. Elegant yet calloused fingers that manipulated your hand gingerly, as though afraid you would break.
Oh, how wanted them to break you.
If only he’d pulled you closer. That hand on your back could have trailed down farther to grip your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist so that he could grind into you, his other hand digging into the flesh of your hip to hold you tight against him. His eyes closed, brows furrowing in pleasure and any sounds he made were swallowed by you as you took his lips in yours. Moaning, he pushed you against the side of the car, unbuckling your pants, aligning your hips just so and…
Your hand found its way down your stomach, seeking your clit. It was hot to the touch, engorged and sensitive.
One brush of your fingers and you sighed, your body thrumming with anticipation, eager to relieve this mounting tension. It felt dirty, touching yourself to the thought of someone who didn’t see you the same way. You knew you would feel gross afterwards, shame prickling your skin long into the night.
But, right now, it felt too good to care.
Each consecutive drag of your fingers against your clit stoked the fire simmering in your gut, electricity sparking in your veins, and your eyes fluttered, half-lidded, drunk on the sensation. You leaned against the shower wall, uncaring as you knocked over a bottle with a clatter, too lost in pleasure to trust your legs to hold you. Small gasps and mewls spilled from your lips, and you rhythmically ground into your hand, searching for release.
Your mind was a flurry of sensation and want, your imagination dizzying. It was Akechi who was flicking and circling your clit, it was him tracing your folds before sinking his fingers deep inside, it was him stretching and rubbing against your walls until he hit that place that was just right.
“Shit… please, I need –”
Your fingers were just slightly too short, scarcely glancing that one spot you knew could tip you over, and you whined, frustration spurring your fingers to work faster. Squelching noises filled the air, muffled by the beating of the shower. You pictured Akechi, his lips trailing up your neck, his low voice whispering in your ear, coaxing you to come for him, to show him how good he was making you feel.
Your chest was heaving, the steam and heat and pleasure making your head spin. “Oh, God… yes… please Akechi I’m… ah –”
A final hard press of your clit and the taut coil of your orgasm snapped, your back arching as your body convulsed. Your free hand scrabbled against the tile, searching for something to ground yourself – to no avail.
It took a moment for your senses to come back, your breath gradually evening out. You shuddered as you pulled your fingers out with a small sucking noise, still sensitive.
Contrary to your expectations, there was no usual niggling sense of shame or loneliness encroaching upon your afterglow. You just felt relaxed, and sleepy. Maybe you were a bit concerned about looking Akechi in the eye tomorrow, but that was about it.
There were two great revelations soothing your soul: Akechi didn’t hate your guts, and you weren’t going to be bodily dragged back to Tokyo. All in all, life was looking up.
The hot water had begun to cool, so you shut it off and stepped out of the shower, toweling off and somewhat drying your hair. Wrapping the towel loosely around your torso, you stepped into the hall, accompanied by a plume of steam, and shivered as the air hit your skin.
Eager to be in some fuzzy pajamas, you scurried into your room, muttering a quick apology as you swerved around Akechi and flicked on a lamp.
You froze.
He propped his arm against the door, halting it mid-motion as you tried to slam it shut.
“Akechi!” Your voice cracked, your heart hammering in your throat. “You’re here. In my house.”
He didn’t answer, looking down at you drowsily. His hair was mussed and he seemed generally dishevelled, as though he’d just rolled out of bed.
Had he… heard?
You found yourself suddenly fighting for your life to shift whatever conversation was about to happen away from yourself and your potentially audible shower habits.
“If you needed a place to stay, you could’ve asked! I see you brought pajamas,” you gestured to his sweatpants and white tee with a shaky grin, “always thinking ahead. Haha. Did you sleep in my bed? That’s just rude, putting me on the couch just to take the bed, you jerk. You don’t put friends on the couch, especially when you’re staying at their house.” You wagged a disapproving finger.
Your voice was almost normal by the end of your teasing, and your heart lifted as you noticed Akechi was smiling, his eyes drifting from your waggling finger back to you. He wasn’t glaring at you or otherwise acting like you were a total pervert, at least. That was a good sign in your book.
Maybe he really hadn’t noticed anything. He had been asleep, after all.
He tilted his head, and you had a sinking feeling as his smile turned shit-eating.
“I heard.”
Two simple words and your heart plummeted into your feet.
Fuck.
Fuck.
You backed up into your bedroom and he followed, pushing the door all the way open before closing it behind him. A cold sweat had broken out across your skin, and you felt like throwing up.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” You tried to play it dumb, but your voice came out stilted, and you couldn’t meet his eyes.
You never had been a very good actor under pressure.
Akechi didn’t seem convinced either, but he didn’t call you out for it. He gave you a once-over, taking in your towel-clad form. You shuffled your feet, folding your hands in front of your chest. A stray bead of water slid down your collarbone, and his eyes followed. You shuddered.
Before you could process it, Akechi grabbed an edge of the towel and tugged it towards him. Your half-assed knot didn’t stand a chance. It began to slide down your body, and with the mortifying revelation that you were about to bare it all in an uncomfortably literal sense, you moved closer to relieve the pressure on the precarious garment.
A triumphant gleam entered his eyes, and you knew you were done for. With a single move he had promised that the only way you would be running away from him now was butt naked.
And you both knew you didn’t have the guts for that.
Your face was hot, shame coursing through your veins as you wished that the earth would open up beneath your feet. The man you’d just masturbated to the thought of was right in front of you and he heard everything. Your hands trembled.
Akechi took your hands in his, peeling them away from your body.
“You’re shaking, Princess," he cooed, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles in a soothing motion. “Are you nervous? Now… why could that be?”
His tone was innocuous, as though he were genuinely concerned, but his eyes held something vicious. He knew the answer – he just wanted to hear it from your mouth.
Akechi always did have a vengeful streak.
“I’m sorry,” you breathed, looking down at your feet.
“Oh my, sounds like you did know what I was talking about.” He tsked, shaking his head. “But that isn’t a very good apology, Princess. What are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry… for touching myself.” You swallowed thickly. “To the thought of you.”
You cringed. The words sounded even more damning out loud. It was humiliating just to say, so you couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable he felt being on the receiving end of… all of this. Your stomach lurched, and you closed your eyes, braced for the disgraceful end of your friendship.
A hand grasped your chin, forcing your gaze upwards. Akechi’s pupils were huge, his gaze drinking in whatever embarrassing face you must have been making. He looked… victorious. And a bit incredulous. As though a long-awaited theory he’d thought absurd had finally been settled. He leaned back and took a deep breath, raking his hands through his hair before looking back down at you in a sharp way that made you stiffen on the spot.
“You masturbated.”
You winced at the blunt phrasing but nodded.
“And you thought of me?”
“Every time.”
You wanted to smack yourself, screaming internally as your blush grew outright feverish. That was what you chose to say?! Might as well jump in my grave at this point, you thought, pursing your lips, I’ve worked so hard at digging it.
If he didn’t already think you were a creep, he definitely knew now.
You, on the other hand, were already well aware of your own perverseness. It was the reason you couldn’t stop staring at his lips as he looked away, a hand on his chin in contemplation as he processed the fact that this had been going on for a while. They looked soft. Would they feel as good as his hands did? Your fingers twitched, resisting the urge to reach up and touch them, to bring his face close so you could –
Akechi suddenly looked up and you snapped to attention. Not fast enough, though – he caught your lingering gaze red-handed. You fidgeted, pretending to be fascinated by your clasped hands.
He rubbed his forehead and huffed, a breathy, sardonic thing. You scarcely caught the edges of his mutterings, “Some detective… would’ve been so much easier…”
In the corner of your vision, you glimpsed a sweater you’d thrown onto your bed before leaving for work. But before you could lean over and snatch it, something brushed against your cheek. You startled, your eyes flashing back to Akechi as you held your breath.
He had stepped closer – so close you could feel his body heat and you had to tilt your head back to meet his stare – and he was carefully gauging your reaction, his hand caressing your cheek. The pad of his thumb traced your cheekbone, just as light and cautious as when he had looked over your hand. The tenderness behind it, combined with that burning, uncertain expression of his, made something inside you come undone.
Your embarrassment and fear crumbled away in the wake of the overwhelming wave of want that crashed over you, and all you wanted to do was give in. And, having nothing else to lose at this point, you did just that. Eyes fluttering closed, you leaned into his touch with a sigh of relief. It was warm. Your skin tingled wherever it met his, your body humming with energy like a live wire.
He… wasn’t leaving.
Did that mean…?
When you opened your eyes, Akechi was looking at your lips. A blush had spread across his cheeks, his half-lidded stare filled with an emotion you were used to seeing in your own eyes.
Arousal.
“Oh, Princess.” His voice was a pleased croon that sent shivers down your spine. “You must have been so lonely, all the way out here. Without me.”
You nodded dumbly, high on the fact that he was even standing in front of you, touching you, wanting you. His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you close until your chest pressed against his. His breath grazed the shell of your ear.
“But you’ve got me now. And I can make it all better, if you’ll let me. Wouldn’t you like that, Princess?” His words were a soft whisper, his tone smooth – verging arrogant. But you could feel the heat radiating from his face, the quickened pulse of his heart through his shirt, the desperate way his fingers sunk into the flesh of your hips, holding you fast, as though afraid you would slip away.
He wanted you to say yes, and the thought sent heat coiling low in your stomach.
You whimpered, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt. “Please.”
“Please…?” His nose trailed along the hollow of your throat, and you sucked in a breath. Your heart stuttered, chest tight with anticipation.
Your voice was soft, scarcely a breath, “Please, Akechi. Kiss me.”
He shivered at your words, and you felt the triumphant curl of his lips against your skin as he brought a hand around the back of your neck to pull your mouth to his.
It was a kiss, and at the same time, so much more. His lips were just as soft as you pictured and yet worlds better, because they were real and hot as they slid against yours. It was so tender and gentle it made your heart ache, and you pulled back, cupping his face in your hands as you kissed his cheeks, his jaw, his eyelids, his forehead – none of his face was spared your affection. Giddy laughter bubbled in your lungs as you glimpsed the startled yet satisfied look on his face, and he quickly swept up your lips again.
Wet noises filled your ears, soft kisses growing deeper and longer with every brush of your lips, and a sultry air slowly settled between you. Each press of his lips lingered, stealing the breath from your lungs, and you nibbled at his lower lip. He groaned, his tongue coming out in a tentative swipe along your lip, and you hooked your arms around his neck, reciprocating with enthusiasm, uncaring that your towel was being held up solely by the pressure between your bodies.
It was the sort of kiss that had your mind reeling, his tongue teasing and sliding with yours in a synchronous, rhythmic motion that sent sparks of pleasure dancing from the crown of your head down your spine. When he pulled back slightly, pausing to appreciate his contributions to your disheveled appearance, you were left sighing in longing. Some part of you felt immensely content, having him in your arms. But another part was burning, and like pouring water on a grease fire, these kisses had only intensified the toe-curling want festering deep in your gut.
Tangling your fingers into his hair, you gently pulled his head back, baring his neck so that you could pepper kisses and bites along his jaw and down his throat. It satisfied some base instinct, having your lips and teeth grazing his pulse – even more so when a moan slipped from his lips, his grip on you tightening as he ground his hips against yours, his thigh parting your legs. You felt his erection through his sweatpants, hot and insistent, and you took a moment to marvel that it was you he was reacting like this to.
Caught up in your admiration, you missed the mischievous glint in Akechi’s eye.
Your breath hitched as you felt his hands drift from your hips and over the swell of your ass, escalating into a keening gasp as he pressed you down, grinding his clothed thigh up against your core. You writhed at the onslaught of pressure and friction against your bare clit, your head falling to rest in the crook of his neck as your fingers grasped his biceps. Chasing that pleasure, your hips began to rock back and forth practically of their own volition, your eyes falling shut and your weight almost entirely supported by Akechi as he watched you fuck yourself on his thigh.
“How long have you wanted this?”
Through your pleasured haze, you barely caught Akechi’s murmured question as he nibbled at the shell of your ear. His voice was soft and beguiling.
“Years…” you sighed, dreamy, too lost in the steadily building heat in your abdomen to be embarrassed about your long-running crush.
“I see,” he hummed. There was something ominous in his tone, his fingers digging harshly into your flesh as he picked up the pace into something almost brutal. “Even during our time as Phantom Thieves?”
“Y-yes!” you cried out as he nipped your shoulder.
It was definitely going to leave a mark.
“Why… ask…?” you panted, shivering as he soothed the area with his tongue.
He stilled your hips. A frustrated noise escaped your throat as your budding orgasm was ripped away, wiggling in search of some sort of friction to relieve the ache of your arousal, but his firm hold prevented any movement.
“Oh, I just wanted to know how much time we wasted playing friends.”
You looked up, still processing his words, and swallowed, suddenly parched. His stare was smoldering, a combination of annoyance and arousal creasing his brow, and you could almost hear the thread of his patience fraying.
Something clicked. Your eyes widened.
“Wait, you also –”
You yelped as you were suddenly picked up and deposited onto the edge of your bed, clutching the now entirely unravelled towel to your front in some half-assed attempt to preserve your modesty. Not that you really had any, at this point; you were certain you were half-exposed for much of that kissing session. Your eyes drifted to the slick patch along Akechi’s thigh, right where your cunt had rested. Shit, were you seriously that wet…
Akechi crouched in front of you, his head rested atop your knees as his hands stroked up and down your calves absentmindedly. His lips were red, glistening from your combined saliva, his face tinted with a pink flush. It was a sight so tempting, it was killing you. He sighed, his hot breath fanning across your lap and making you clench in anticipation as his touch drifted higher up with each pass.
“You were such a sight, dancing around in that tight little outfit of yours.” he murmured, something fervent creeping into his voice as he turned his head to nip the skin of your thigh, evolving into wet, open-mouthed kisses that had your eyes rolling back. “It was a distraction. But my eyes just couldn’t leave you.” As he spoke, he leaned forwards, his body parting your legs until your knees rested at his shoulders.
“The number of times I wanted to steal you away, mission be damned. Hide you somewhere no one could find us. Make you writhe beneath me.” His fingers traced patterns in your skin. Occasionally, they grazed just under the material of your towel, and a shuddering breath escaped your lungs. “You always were such a crybaby… so cute when you were frustrated. So honest with your reactions.”
There was no way he couldn’t feel your trembling. It was a torturous sort of teasing, these kisses and touches that did nothing to relieve you, and he knew it. Was this some sort of revenge? But, considering the way his eyes seemed to drink in your every movement, maybe he just enjoyed seeing you squirm.
“I always held back.” He sighed, pausing to suck a patch on your thigh you were certain would become a dark bruise. “A strategic compromise. As a friend, at least you were at my side – a safer alternative to scaring you away. But to think…”
His hand stopped, his fingers resting at your inner thigh mere centimeters from your core, and tears of frustration welled in your eyes. Humming, he leaned his head to rest against your leg, looking up at you between his lashes. He looked for all the world as docile as a lamb, resting at your knees.
“I need to know how far you want to go, Princess," he said. “We can stop here. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with.”
His tone was teasing, seductive – he could see how wound up you were, the want wracking your body. But, having known Akechi for so long, you caught the hesitation underneath this alluring veil. He was giving you a chance to back out, to pretend that this never happened. You could go back to being friends, albeit with some awkward tension.
Your jaw clenched. Clearly, Akechi was underestimating your fixation. Now that you had him in your hands, like hell you were about to let this opportunity go.
If he were going to act a wolf in sheep’s clothing, then you would be the snake beneath the flower.
Leaning forwards, you grasped his hand that had stilled on your thigh and brought it up so that you could press your lips to his palm. Oh, how you adored the way that he shivered, his hungry eyes never leaving yours.
“I want more," you implored and you swallowed, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “Need more.”
He followed the motion, mirroring it with his own, before he seemed to consider your words.
“Hm… how much more?” His tone had picked up that smug quality again, that note of uncertainty dissolved by your pleas. His thumb pressed against your lip, his smile growing into something wild as you gave it a little lick.
“Everything," you breathed. “All of you. However much you’re willing to give me.” You left it at that, as there was no sane sounding way to say that you wanted to crawl inside of his skin and curl around his heart.
He liked the sound of that, considering the way his pupils expanded as his breathing grew more laboured. His hand drifted down, trailing down your neck and your collarbone before nudging the edge of the towel. You let it drop, your flash of embarrassment at being exposed quickly forgotten as his hand cupped your breast, rolling your nipple beneath his thumb. The shock of pleasure had you leaning further into his touch, your torso curled over him as a quiet moan slipped past your lips.
“Shit…” he hissed, his stare lingering over you, as though burning the sight into his mind. “The things you do to me, Princess.”
Leaning up, he pulled you forwards until your arms rested against his shoulders, swallowing you in a burning kiss before trailing his lips down. He kissed all across your torso and down your stomach, wet kisses that turned into licks and bites that made your toes curl.
He took his time, learning where you were sensitive with unfair accuracy and hovering in areas that made you squirm until you were a panting mess of want and frustration. Every time he seemed to be going lower, reaching your abdomen, he roamed back up again to your breasts with a smile, repeating the cycle again.
Your fingers dug into the broad expanse of Akechi’s shoulders, and you whined his name.
He looked up from his work, giving you a sly, knowing look. “Do you need more?”
You nodded.
The smug shit moved to kiss your stomach again and you pressed his shoulders back, your blush creeping down your chest in a combination of shame and sexual frustration. You knew what he was planning, what he wanted you to say, but it was embarrassing.
“Now, Princess." He tsked. "How could I know what you want if you don’t tell me?” he mused, his hands resting at your hips as his fingers kneaded your soft flesh. His head was dangerously close to the apex of your thighs, which certainly didn't help your nerves.
You pressed your lips, shy. “…I need you.”
He chuckled, and the air on your cunt had you tensing. “I’m here.”
“Need – I need your mouth on me” you stuttered, rising frustration making your chest tight.
He turned his head, trailing his lips along your thigh. “It is.”
You dug your nails into his shoulders, unshed tears blurring your vision. “Please, Akechi,” your voice cracked, and you shut your eyes as if to escape the embarrassment flooding your veins, “Please eat me out.”
A viciously pleased smile stretched his lips, his hands flexing in a near-bruising grip before relaxing. You could feel gooseflesh rise along his skin, his eyes possessing a slightly hazy quality. The sight of his arousal sent a spike of heat to your core. Worth it.
“That’s it, Princess. Good…” he crooned, leaning forward as he pressed a hand against your abdomen. “Lean back, now. I’ve got you.”
Eager to please, you did just that, propping your arms behind you. Akechi tilted your hips forwards, giving him unobstructed view of your spread, weeping cunt, and the attention made you tremble. He was watching it so intensely. You had never felt more exposed than you did in that moment, him knelt by your feet yet somehow domineering. There was something painfully erotic about being naked while he was still fully clothed, an imbalance that left you reeling.
“Damn, you’re soaked," he muttered, practically under his breath, the muscle of his jaw pulsing as he seemed to teeter on the edge of something. “Just for me…”
The air rushed from your lungs as his tongue slid against your clit, burning hot and slick, something caught between a moan and a sob falling from your lips. Finally. One of your hands shot out, tangling in Akechi’s hair in an attempt to tether yourself against the onslaught of pleasure that hit your system. He groaned – the vibrations a cruel addition to the already overwhelming sensations – but didn’t relent his laving, setting a firm, consistent pace that left you gasping, unable to catch your breath. Your thoughts were a senseless jumble, head rolling back as he pulled from you a stream of mewls and cries without mercy.
Oh God, he was brutal, eating you out with a fervour that swept you away. It wasn’t elegant or dignified. It was downright filthy. A sopping mess of his saliva and your fluids that dribbled down your thighs, soaking the sheets. Even the sounds were obscene – wet smacks and heaving breaths that suffused your head and fanned your steadily mounting arousal. He was devouring you.
At some point, you had begun to speak. Words tumbled from your lips, an incoherent babbling of praise as you felt your orgasm quickly approaching.
“So good… Akechi…”
“Ah – want… so long…”
“Oh, love… this … love –”
You gasped as you felt his fingers press inside of you, first one and then two, sliding in easily with the slick of your arousal. They were long and articulated and more than you ever imagined, and he curved them towards himself until they scraped against a spot that sent lights sparking behind your eyelids and fuck he was still laving your clit with his tongue –
You keened as your arms gave out and your body went taut, back arching so intensely your muscles burned with the strain of it. Your eyes rolled back, white consuming your vision, then black, and you couldn’t hear anything. For a moment you weren’t sure if you had passed out.
When you did finally come down, chest heaving with breath, Akechi was still between your legs, licking.
Too much. Your hips jerked back, as if to escape the overstimulation, but he held them down as he wrung from you every last drop of your orgasm. You couldn’t even make sounds at that point, just breathy sobs of pleasure.
It was only when your body was wracked with uncontrollable minute tremors that he let up, staring down at what remained of you with immense satisfaction.
Your cheeks were wet with tears, flushed.
“Cute…” he murmured, caressing your cheek before stroking your hair in a soothing motion.
His lips and chin glistened with the moisture of your cunt, his hair was dishevelled from your fingers, and you were certain you would never meet someone more beautiful in your entire life.
“How did I do?” He tilted his head, smiling. Obviously, he could already tell just how well he did, considering your ravaged appearance. Didn’t need to be a detective to make that astute observation.
You swallowed, catching your breath. “Really good…”
It wasn’t your most eloquent review, but the numbness pervading your brain made vocabulary difficult. Akechi didn’t seem to mind – if anything, your delirium seemed to make him happier.
Drowsily, you reached a hand down, brushing against the hard tent of his sweatpants. There was a dark patch where the head of his cock strained against the fabric, wet with precum.
You blinked, struggling to compose yourself. “I can make you feel good, too?”
Emphasizing your words, you tugged down on his waistband, and the tip of his cock peeked out, pink and weeping. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His hips jerked in response to the friction, seeking stimulation, and he groaned, trapping your hand under his. There was a stern edge to his stare.
“If you rile me up any more you won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warned, then paused, smiling in a way that resembled a baring of teeth. “Well, not that I plan on letting you anyway.”
The words sent a thrill of pleasure up your spine, hairs prickling along your skin. “Yes, please.”
“Oh? You like the sound of that, don’t you.” It was a statement, not a question – he had caught your reaction and locked on like a shark scenting blood.
He trailed a hand up the length of your leg, up your thigh, coming to rest at your stomach, just above your uterus. His fingers pressed into the flesh, kneading shapes that might have been soothing if you weren’t so turned on right now.
“You want me inside of you, Princess?” he murmured. His other arm hooked into the crook of your knee, repositioning you so that he could crouch over you on the bed. “Want my cock pounding deep into that weeping cunt of yours until you can’t speak a word that isn’t my name, until your thoughts are filled with nothing but the feeling of me sliding in and out?”
You writhed, hips rocking against the air in search of some sort of release and failing. “Please.”
He made a pleased noise, taking a deep breath as he seemed to collect himself, his hand flexing. You watched his Adam’s apple bob, entranced. “So honest for me… good girl.”
He moved away and you made a small sound of protest at the loss of his warmth.
Leaning to the side, he reached for a leather briefcase leaned against the bed, tucking a hand into one of its smaller pockets to pull out a familiar plastic square. A condom.
Damn, he really was prepared for anything.
He glimpsed your questioning look and shrugged. “The odds were low, but never zero.”
The witty comment your brain conjured up – something about being an irreparable dork – was promptly wiped when he pulled off his shirt. You swallowed, eyes roving down the trail of hair dusting the distinct v that descended into the line of his sweatpants. Damn.
“Like what you see, Princess?” he hummed as he slid off his pants.
The material hooked on his cock for an instant before it sprung free, hitting his stomach and leaving behind a drop of precum. Nestled beneath a patch of neat brown hair, it was long, though not excessively so, and curved slightly. Thick veins along the shaft pulsed, engorged with blood.
“Yes," you murmured, not breaking from your ogling. “Has anyone told you you’re gorgeous?”
You could just picture how he would feel inside of you, the dull ache of your arousal spiking.
The anticipation was torture. Delicious, blissful torture.
His sharp features bathed in the dim light made him seem like something surreal, carved of marble and shadows. Beautiful and dangerous. If you were Yusuke, you would be dropping everything in order to bust out the oil paints posthaste.
Thank God you weren’t.
Akechi shivered, eyes half-lidded, and you wondered for a moment if he enjoyed your staring as much as you enjoyed watching him.
“Probably," he drawled, ripping open the condom’s package with his teeth before rolling it on. “But I prefer it when you say it.”
He crawled forwards until he rested between your legs, the tip of his cock just barely sliding along your folds. Just a bit more, a single thrust, and he would be – but he was speaking, and you pushed through the arousal fogging your mind to listen.
“If we do this…. it won’t be a one-night stand.” He spoke severely, warning, as if he were damning you to some cruel fate by virtue of being with you.
This man…
You reached out and grasped one of his hands, entwining your fingers with his. “That’s perfect.”
His grip tightened and relaxed, his eyes swirling with a great force that was somehow both dangerous and impossibly tender. “Once you’re mine, I won’t let go, even if you run.”
Considering how he tracked you down with such brutal efficiency, you believed that.
“Then don’t let go," you murmured, bringing up your other hand to caress the side of his jaw. The way he leaned into it made your heart ache. “Hold me, Goro. I want all of it. The good and the bad.”
Something inside of him seemed to melt, his shoulders relaxing as though relieved of a great weight. He exhaled, muttering something like, “Too good,” before leaning down to steal you into a heartbreakingly soft kiss.
Then he was pushing his hips forwards, the hot swell of his head pressing into your entrance. There was pressure and a faint burning stretch that settled as he sheathed himself fully inside of you with a shuddering sigh, only stopping once his hips were flush with yours.
“Shit," he groaned, the cuss falling like a prayer. “You feel better than everything I imagined.”
You whimpered, hips shifting in discomfort, but he held you still, quietly shushing you as he kissed and bit along your neck. A welcome distraction. He didn’t move, waiting for you to adjust.
So full. Your walls fluttered around him, a reflexive movement, and you flinched at the pleasure that sparked behind your eyelids.
“Goro," you pleaded, your hands brushing down and up his biceps, and he made a tight sound of acknowledgement.
Bracing his forearms on the mattress on either side of you, he began to move. He slowly rocked his hips against yours, barely drawing out before pushing in again. Shallow, gentle movements that steadily wound you up tighter than you thought possible.
As he worked, you felt him watching you with that curious, calculating edge, taking in your subtle reactions, testing what spots made you shiver, which angle made a gasp slip from your throat.
It was so much yet not enough, bringing you to the precipice but never quite crossing over.
“Please – Goro please," you whined, nails digging into the skin beneath them. You were trembling. “Please I need you, I need –”
“Shh, Princess, I know, I know," he groaned, hips stuttering, his voice thick with arousal. “You’re doing, God, doing so well. Hold on to that pillow behind you. Don’t let go.”
Blearily, you followed, wringing your hands into the fabric. Leaning back, he gripped one thigh and pushed it up towards your torso, practically bending you in half and tilting your pelvis upwards. His other hand sat at your hip, pressing you into the mattress.
Then he was thrusting deep inside of you, setting a brutal pace as he pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in. It was a merciless sort of rutting. He played you like an instrument, his hands positioned to control your movements, pulling you to meet his thrusts. His cock brushed all those spots he had memorised with terrifying precision and at just the right angle to leave you wailing.
“That’s it, Princess," he moaned, his eyes drinking you in. “What a sight you are, taking me in so perfect. Do I make you feel good?”
With ach draw back of his hips you felt the glorious drag of his glans against your walls, each thrust punctuated with the obscene impact of flesh against flesh, making you writhe. The sounds he was drawing out of you were outright humiliating.
“Yes!” you slurred, fingers gripping the pillow so tight you feared it would rip, “Please… don’t stop… don’t ever…”
You tried to stay coherent, but Akechi seemed to have made it his personal goal to work against you, moving one hand down to move around your clit in firm, tight circles. You didn’t stand a chance. It was so intense. Too intense.
The knot inside of your core tightened at an alarming rate.
“Close, I’m –”
“Let go.” His voice was strained, bleeding with something wild and base and genuine, “Let go, Princess. I’m here.”
The orgasm hit you hard and fast, muscles seizing and eyes shutting tight as your lips parted in a silent wail. Sounds faded in and out. At some point your hands had moved from the pillow, fingers weakly digging into his forearms. Something to ground yourself.
And he didn’t stop.
Your hips tried to move away but his hold was solid, preventing you from escaping the pleasure he was giving you as he chased his own end.
“Too –”
“Y-you’ve got it, Princess, stay here. Just a bit longer.”
Something like a squeal escaped your throat.
It was an agonizing ecstasy. You couldn’t tell where the sensations ended and you began. Your muscles spasmed, nerves alight with electric pulses, and you found yourself unable to put any strength into your limbs. You wanted to pull him close and shove him away at the same time.
When your hands pressed against his chest – useless scrabbling – he gathered them into his other hand so that he could bite into the flesh of your palm. Red welts joined the flush spread all over your body.
He pounded into you as if he could merge your bodies together if he tried hard enough.
But he was close, too. You could feel him twitching inside of you, teetering on the edge. His brows were furrowed, a muscle in his jaw pulsing. Between his heavy breathing, a low, tortured groan left his lips.
At this rate, you were both going to go insane.
There was a spark of impatience through the haze in your mind. With surprising energy, you broke a hand free to grip his jaw with whatever pathetic force you could muster.
“Cum, Goro.” – he whined, the sound thrumming in your veins – “Be good and let me feel you cum because I need you–”
He drew you into a tight embrace as he came, dropping your leg to curl his body around yours, his head tucked into your shoulder. Quiet, breathless gasps puffed against your neck, teeth grazing the skin, his hips driving into yours in slow, rhythmic pulses that tipped you over into a final, smaller climax.
You were thoroughly wrung out.
It took everything just to lay there and breathe, drifting in thoughtless afterglow. Absentmindedly, your fingers ran up and down the plane of Akechi’s back, who laid heavy against you like a warm weighted blanket. Comforting.
After a while like this, basking, Akechi breathed out a long, suffering sigh and detangled his limbs from yours. You winced as he pulled out, shivering at the extra stimulation to your oversensitive walls.
You must have drifted off, because next you remember you were being nudged awake. You swatted away the hand with a groan, curling back into the sheets – only to squeal as it was replaced by something cold. You jolted, blearily looking up.
“Drink.”
Akechi held out a glass of water, ice cubes clinking. He had a clean pair of sweatpants on, though remained shirtless, and pieces of wet hair clung to his cheek and neck. Must have showered.
“’nks.” Your voice came out a croak.
Propping onto your arms, you took several gulps – more parched than you had thought – before setting it on the nightstand. You felt surprisingly clean. Had you been wiped down?
“Move over.”
You rolled to the side, boneless. The space was immediately occupied by Akechi, who wasted no time in gathering you into his arms and shifting you until you laid back on his chest, his chin rested on your shoulder. One hand trailed down your arm to interlace your fingers, his thumb tracing the bite mark that had yet to fade.
It was a quiet, tender moment. The word ‘vulnerable’ was something that was never associated with Akechi, who wore his masks like armour. To be able to share this with him…
You cradled it close to your heart.
“You should stay," you murmured.
His responding hum rumbled in his chest. “The night?”
“Longer, if you’d like.” You switched so that you were holding his hand, fingers absently following the lines of his palm, “I’m not ready to see the others yet. But I think in a week or two – I mean, if you’re not busy…”
“I’m not.”
(wasn’t he a lawyer now?)
He picked up on your skeptical silence. “I can work on any cases from here. Plus, I still have some… pro bono consulting to do for the government. Community service.”
You made a sound of acknowledgement, leaning your head back. “Sure thing, superspy. We should buy you some stuff tomorrow for the meantime.”
“…”
“…You brought a suitcase, didn’t you.”
You felt his smile against your nape. “It’s in the car.”
With a snort, you turned to bury your face in his chest. His arms wrapped around you, warm and secure, and the slow rise and fall of his lungs became a lulling sound.
Though not everything had been solved in a night, you felt lighter than you had in weeks.
You drifted off to sleep, for once not dreading the morning to come.
.
.
.
On your nightstand, the screen of your phone lit up with a notification, light reflecting on the condensation gathered on a glass of ice water.
Oracle:
u done banging? hehe jk – unless?? lol l8r Pwincess (･ω<)☆
Oracle:
P.S. upd8 ur firewall lol
Oracle:
nvm ftfy