Amire @amire0624 - Tumblr Blog

Nov 4, 2025

the gentleman and the lure.

akira kurusu x fem reader you thought your relationship with akira ended five years ago, but a chance encounter with him has you rethinking it all. warning(s): nsfw, timeskip au (akira is 23), reader implied to also be 23 minors do not interact.

in all honesty, you initially thought this whole thing was your eyes playing tricks on you.

but some deeper, unconscious part of you knew otherwise. nothing else, nobody else in this world could make you do a double take in the same you just did, your feet hesitating like an out-of-beat step in the larger waltz from the passersby around you. shibuya is wild like that, demanding your adherence to the dance while setting your imagination free.

you blink. it can’t be him.

that chapter of your life had closed five years ago, and you were now preoccupied with finding your place in the world. it had taken a lot of time, a lot of anger and bargaining, a lot of unspoken grief and nights sobbing into your pillow wondering if there was anything you could have done to change the outcome, but ultimately, time proved to be the most effective medicine. you closed that part of your youth with a bittersweet tinge in your memories, and you tucked it somewhere close to your heart to savor on nights whenever drinking alone wasn’t enough to plunge you fully into the depths of your personal melancholy.

but it is him.

wavy tufts of midnight black hair, smooth skin like a greek statue come to life, and sleek black glasses frames that only momentarily hide the big innocent doe eyes that make you stop dead in your tracks.

your throat clamps down on itself. the cacophony of the city suddenly mutes itself in your ears, and you can’t hear any of it. none of the footsteps, the voices, the honking of cars and the blasting advertisements, the chirping of pigeons, everything becomes completely obsolete as you struggle to even breathe. you want to say something, to even get a pathetic squeak out, but it’s as if every part of your mind shut down instantly, and you realize you were rendered frozen.

the man standing a few feet away from you also does a double take, and a few annoyed pedestrians storm between the two of you. but he doesn’t move and neither do you.

“is… is that you? is that who i think it is?” he steps closer, and you can make out his soft voice. his lips are a gentle shade of cherry red, and you’re suddenly aware of how much taller he is than from when you last remember.

your eyes tremble when you finally let yourself take a good look at him, and despite the initial features that caught you like a deer in headlights, you also notice that he’s changed more than you thought. he’s definitely older. his features are sharper. his chest is a bit bigger and shoulders a bit broader, jawline more defined and the once-cherubic roundness in his eyes have honed themselves into something more adult-like.

your heart skips a beat.

“it is you.” there’s nowhere else for you to run now, now that he has you within arm’s reach. you’re still dumbstruck, the million thoughts in your mind unable to string themselves into tangible words, and you’re scared that this chance will slip out of your hands and become something you regret for the rest of your life. but at the same time, there’s too much emotion overwhelming you, almost like the entire passage of time spiel was rapidly unraveling in your head.

your tongue is a deadweight on the inside of your mouth, and yet when he reaches out to grab you, his hand wrapping around your arm and tugging you in his direction, leading you out of the middle of the crosswalk and towards the safety of the sidewalk, all you can conjure up is a surprised gasp. you sound like a wounded animal, but you let the dark-haired man whisk you away, your legs and feet stumbling behind you as if he was a puppeteer and you, the puppet.

it’s only when he takes you to a more secluded area, the mouth of an alley a little tucked away, do you manage to eke out your first words to him.

your voice shakes. you sound like you’re about to cry. you feel like you’re about to cry. “k… kurusu.”

he laughs under his breath, and hearing it makes you want to throw up on your own feet. you’ve craved that sound for so long. it haunts your dreams, your waking moments, the breakdowns you might have had when you stayed up past your bedtimes and let your mental demons claw too long at you.

“that’s me.”

he pauses for a second, and he glances at you almost sheepishly. he is older, but he’s definitely still very young. probably around 23, most likely fresh out of college, maybe looking for his first job out in the real world, going through the same growing pains as you are right now. he still retains that boyish charm you ascribed to him in your brain, and you see it clearly through his big angelic eyes.

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m sorry. i should apologize for that,” he starts calmly, “i didn’t mean to lose contact with so many people after i moved back home all that time back… especially with you.”

what were you supposed to say? the path of least resistance would be to lie and say that it was alright that you let him go, that you spent your time alone practically torturing yourself over a love that could no longer be. but it wasn’t like you could suddenly dump all of that, especially within the first few minutes of meeting him again, and it wasn’t like your body was being particularly cooperative either.

you hold your breath. he waits a beat, and then he rummages through his pocket and extends his phone towards you.

“here. i wish i had more time to catch up with you. i’m getting back from my lunch break right now, so i can’t stick around. but put in your information, and if you’re willing, i really want to take some time and talk to you again.” his black eyes are on you again, and you can see your startled reflection staring back from his irises. “would you be okay with that?”

you’re a person haunted. possessed. you wordlessly take his phone from his hands, and you methodically type your information in. you give it back to him without much more fanfare, and only then does he allow himself a smile.

his fingers brush across yours, and the spark that shoots straight to your stomach leaves you reeling. your heart sinks like a rock when you see his happy face. his smile is beautiful and poised, and it’s nothing short of a lethal poison to your consciousness.

“thanks. i have to run now, but i’ll contact you as soon as i can. it… it’s a miracle to see you again. i didn’t think a day like this would come.” he admits. he shifts his weight slightly, and he rechecks his watch before nodding apologetically at you. “i know it’s long overdue to say something like this, but… take care of yourself. i’ll see you soon.”

maybe in another life, you would have reached out and grabbed him by the back of his cardigan to yank him back towards you. maybe in another life, you would have followed him out to the train station that had stolen him out of your life and whisked him home, condemning you to a solitude you couldn’t wish upon anyone. maybe in another life, you were a different person that he might have considered worthwhile to keep a connection going, instead of forcing you to spiral and wonder if this was a love worth fighting for.

but it all comes crumbling when you see him dash away. you see the lush glimmer of his black hair as it bounces with his steps, long legs striding across the white paint of the crosswalks. if you were doomed to be the tragic side character stuck behind the whims of a cruel writer’s desires and fate, longing for the warmth of recognition, then this man is undoubtedly the protagonist, always just slightly out of the reach of your outstretched fingers.

the rest of shibuya closes in on him like a curtain call, the people of the city drowning out your vision of him like waves crashing down, and you’re left alone as the overwhelming and biting loneliness wraps its arm around you and chokes you from the inside out.

…

how could you describe akira kurusu? there was no easy label to slap onto everything that went down five years ago, back when you were both young and in high school and didn’t know any better. all the lovebirds on your social media apps threw around these buzzwords like situationship, delusionalship, this and that, but you hate the thought of defining what you and akira had with something so soulless. so simple.

but at the same time, you couldn't deny the truth that whatever you and akira had wasn’t clearly defined either. there were no labels despite the complexity of the relationship, and it was every bit ambiguous as the same situations everyone else bemoaned about their lackluster love lives.

it was this ambiguity that proved to be the stalker at the foot of your bed each and every night.

you two were schoolmates. you tutored him a few times. went on dates with him a few times. slept with him a few times. you two had a relationship in every sense but the label, and you had learned to foster intense and real feelings for him. you’d listen to his heartbeat while curled up in his little bed in leblanc’s attic, and you’d wake up to him rubbing the sleep out of his eyes while you’d pretend to sleep so you could cuddle him a bit longer.

but just as quickly as it seemed to begin, his probation was done, and he left tokyo before you could find any way to cling to him even across all the distance. you had hoped that he’d reach out to you in some way and let you know that you weren’t entirely delusional in believing that you had something special with him, but the long stretches of silence made you realize harshly that there was nothing for you to cling to anymore.

you’d even turn up to leblanc by yourself a few times, and sojiro would shoot you a few glances. but you never mentioned akira to him, and the old man never mentioned akira to you either. it was a silent understanding between the two of you as sojiro fixed you a cup of coffee the way you liked it, that neither of you had been successful in hearing from akira.

“so,” his calm voice shakes you from your thoughts. you’re no longer in high school and crying on your bedroom floor over your boyfriend-not-boyfriend who moved back home. you don’t feel much more adult than your teenager self, but you’re sitting at a table across from akira, who’s busy scrutinizing the menu in his hands.

you reach for the glass of water to your right and take an impatient sip. your mouth feels dry, and it’s a good tactic for you to fully avoid conversation for a little while. just a few days prior, akira had reached out to you through the newly acquired number he got from you, and he had asked you to get dinner with him like he said he would.

you should have known that this would open up old wounds, but the “what if” that nagged in your head had you accepting his offer before you could fully think it through.

could you even call it an offer though? without any real string attached? this was exactly the same way he would unofficially ask you out when the two of you were young. you two would romp all over shibuya, eating yummy snacks and doing all sorts of dumb things, too drunk in each other’s presence to really take in the world around them.

“does anything catch your eye? i heard that this place was pretty good through the grapevine,” he admits. he glances up from his menu and smiles shyly, and you almost choke mid-swallow on your mouthful of water. it’s just so unfair how deceptively pretty he is, despite the fact that the word handsome would be more suitable for a young man he is, but you know better than to think that you could ever resist his sparkling eyes.

you set your glass down. “i’ve never been here before, so… you know this place better than i do. i suppose we can ask the waiting staff here for recommendations.”

he closes the menu. “that sounds like a good idea. do you want something other than water to drink? there’s no need to be polite—this dinner is my treat. oh, don’t make that face. i was the one who invited you out, so it’s only fair that i treat you.”

were you making a face? you bit back the urge to touch your face and hide your expression behind your hands. this really felt too much like a date, and despite the walls you wanted to put back up to fend akira off, his subtle ways of peppering you with the attention you craved so badly deep down through what felt like small talk was a bit too smooth for your liking. did he do this often with other romantic prospects while he was gone? what other people did he take an interest in since the last time you had seen him? god, did he butter others up as he was with you?

you push those negative thoughts out of your head. his five years of silence spoke enough for itself, and you scold yourself internally. you should know better than to swoon over your long lost first love again, and for you, the purpose of this dinner was for you to find closure. you didn’t want to open a door to your heart for him too quickly again, lest he end up slamming it back in your face once more.

the silence between the two of you became uncomfortable. you gather your courage, soothing over the uneasy heartbeat rattling at your ribcage, and you look at him pointedly. “...i wanted to ask this last time, but i didn’t get a chance to. how have you been, kurusu?”

he stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head when his last name leaves your mouth. he leans forward and places his elbows on the table, and he folds his hands, palms down, so he can place his chin on his intertwined fingers. “kurusu? you called me that when i ran into you.”

“what else would i call you?” you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of calling him akira just yet. calling him by his first name was something personal, something intimate. it was a title reserved for people close to each other, and while you might not have hesitated had the two of you retained your relationship from before, right now, he was nothing more than a stranger to you.

he’s horrendously perceptive, and akira shrugs. “you know what to call me.”

your stomach does a flip, and you don’t want to give him more of an opening to flirt with you. it feels as if he’s stabbing you emotionally and twisting the knife into your heart, making sure you can feel the yearning and the pain in every tendon, muscle, and sinew of your being. “why are you in shibuya again?”

he pushes back against his seat slightly, his long fingers wrapping themselves against the edge of the table. “job hunting. i graduated university fairly recently, and i need to keep myself afloat. i figured a big city would have some good opportunities. and besides…”

he trails off slightly, and as much as you hate it, you’re pretty sure you can predict his next words. this place is like a second home to him. he has history here, connections, something that could serve as the foot-in-the-door for his future. he stretches his neck a little, and his jet black hair catches and twinkles like the remnants of starlight under the dim light of the restaurant.

“i’m a little picky about what i do.” his gaze is on you again. “you of all people should know that i’m not the kind of guy to be a corporate slave. i know having the ability to choose is a luxury in a society like this, but i can try, can’t i?”

you wish he wouldn’t say that. you wish you didn’t know him so well. you wish he would stop assuming that you did. you curl your fist in your lap under the table. big emotions swirl in your chest: regret, desperation, anger, but above all, a sense of foolishness for thinking that maybe, just maybe, your desire for him wasn’t as unfounded as you believed it to be.

“c’mon,” he urges. he leans in, and his voice quiets itself. “there’s a lot i have to explain to you. i… i know there’s a lot i did you wrong by. but that’s why i’m here, aren’t i? won’t you give me another chance?”

your heart plunges into your stomach when you hear the sweet cadences of his softened words. the same tones as the dulcet “good morning”s he’d whisper to you after a romantic night, the “get home safe”s he’d wish you when he’d drop you off at your train station late at night, the same whispered words from a lifetime past. he can definitely sense you wavering, the fear in your eyes, the misery that he single-handedly caused.

your lips quiver. the wise thing would be to not answer him, but could you really bear to do that? to sit in silence and close that door. this whole thing could backfire on you and leave you even more broken than he did before, but the gnawing in your gut tells you the very thing you had feared from yourself.

you were still in love with akira kurusu. you had always been.

“d-don’t make me answer that.” you hang your head. akira hums softly, and he pushes away from you again, lengthening the distance between you and him across the table by just a few more inches so you could breathe.

“well… you have the rest of the evening to think about it.” he raises his hand, smoothly waving someone from the waiting staff over. he looks to you through the corner of his eye, and when your eyes meet, he resembles less of the boy you once loved and more like a gentleman this time around, still craving to get his paws all over your love and steal it away selfishly for himself, but with more of a dangerous edge to it. like a blade hidden behind a pretty wrapper, you know his aim was to always gun straight for your heart.

his eyes narrow slightly. his lips part ever so slightly, as beautiful as the day five years ago you had given him your last kiss.

“but at the very least… why don’t you give ‘us’ another chance?”

…

“...thank you for dinner. it was very lovely.”

“there’s really no need to thank me. think nothing of it. like i said, it was the least i could do for you.” akira rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. the night air is cool against your face as the night settles down on the busy city. there’s the distant honking of horns, an ever present reminder to you that the inhabitants of shibuya never truly sleep. the world is constantly moving around you, just like time, whether you like it or not.

the sun is long gone, and the bright city lights replace its glamor. they almost remind you of stars if you let your vision unfocus, but right now, the floor is suddenly the most interesting thing you’ve seen in your entire life.

“if that’s all… i should be on my way before it gets much darker.” if you could run away from the entrance of the restaurant, you would do so in a heartbeat. you want to go home and lock yourself in your bedroom and sob your eyes out into your pillows, undoubtedly over all of the reopened wounds and over your own cowardice in regards to how to face akira. it was like whenever you made the resolve to get over him, he’d romp around your mind, and whenever you tried to play into his game, he’d simply turn the tables on you.

he glances at you. disappointment tinges his features, and it’s enough to make your heart squeeze with a bit of a painful pang. “already…? i was going to ask you if you wanted to do this again. i’ll be around the city for a little bit, and i really enjoyed myself.”

you stop dead in your tracks. it’s a bad idea to accept, but you can’t bear to do it when he’s looking at you with those big, wide eyes. it’s his ultimate weapon, paired best with his quick mind. he knows how to get you to crumble, to make your own mind turn against you, and you’re hesitating again. akira has you dancing in the palm of your hand all so effortlessly.

it’s best for you to be ambiguous. just because he can see all of your cards doesn’t mean that he can predict the way you’ll choose to play them. “i’ll see when i have time in my schedule and get back to you.”

he looks at you as if he’s unconvinced with your lackluster answer, but he’s smart. he chooses not to press you further about it. after all, cornered prey tend to get the most defensive, and he would much rather that you walk willingly into his honeyed traps.

“y’know… are you busy right now then? i’ve got a bit of a hankering for something after such a nice dinner, and my place isn’t too far off from here.” he moves closer to you, and your heart leaps into your throat at the sudden proximity. he smiles gently at you, almost too innocent for your own good. “i’ve been practicing brewing coffee all this time. i could fix you a nice cup. it’ll be a lot better than all the shitty ones i’d make you drink when we were both in high school. do you still like your coffee the same as you did back then? c’mon, it’s just one cup. i’ll make it worth your while.”

you should be wiser. sharper. stricter. but akira looks like a kicked puppy, and he also looks like he’s about to grab onto your wrist and beg on his knees if you were to give him the cold shoulder and leave. there’s a sticky lump in the back of your throat that won’t go away no matter how much you swallow, and you wonder if giving in to him would make the uneasiness in your stomach go away. would it be worth it?

“...you said your place wasn’t far?” the words coming from your mouth feel like a death sentence. the black-haired man instantly lights up, and he nods enthusiastically.

“just a couple of minutes. follow me. i promise i won’t make you regret this.” he reaches for your hand, and sparks shoot across your body when his long fingers wrap around yours, tugging you closer to his side. your stomach plummets, and you’re struck with the horrifying revelation that his hands feel so right intertwined with yours. it reminds you too closely of when he was yours, of when you’d walk side-by-side as if you were a real couple.

you can barely remember the walk to his place. you vaguely recall crossing a few streets, your attention too transfixed on the man guiding you. you stumble up a few apartment steps, your heartbeat hammering in between your ears and stirring up a storm in your temples as he fumbles with his front keys, swinging his door open too eagerly, and practically shoving you into his apartment suite.

your throat tightens up for the millionth time that night when the first thing you can make out from his doorway is how much his apartment simply smells like him. it hasn’t changed in five years; he still smells exactly like the way he would when you’d nuzzle into the crook of his neck all those years ago.

“it’s not anything special.” he comes up from behind you, kicking his shoes off before straightening them by the entrance. “but it’s perfect for someone living alone. i promise it’s normally a lot cleaner than i have it right now, so ignore anything that… might be a bit messy. y’know how it is with us men and living alone.”

you barely respond to his joke as you slide your own shoes off, stuck in basically a trance-like state. you trace your eyes over every part of his tiny apartment: the pictures hung up on his wall, the coats hanging from the closet with the door slid halfway open, the mismatched bits of furniture he most definitely got second hand. despite his warning, his place is maintained nicely and clean, nothing short of what you’d expect from someone as surprisingly prim and proper as him. he’s a gentleman to his core.

he leads you to his living room, where you can get a pretty good glimpse of his small kitchen. his place is rather intimate, cozy, the kind of place that feels like it was made to welcome you. you barely keep yourself from curling your hands into fists to keep them from shaking, and you focus your mind on the details you can see as you sink down into his couch.

“stay right there.” akira pads into the kitchen, and he opens his cabinets to rummage for his supplies. “i’m going to break out the really fancy coffee cups, just for you. sojiro never taught me this part specifically, but i’m pretty sure he’d rip my teeth out if i served my coffee to a pretty lady in a regular cup.”

you almost stop breathing when he slips in a compliment so nonchalantly. you want to scold him and tell him to quit doing things like that. it’s bad for your resolve, and you hate to think about how he managed to get this smooth while you were gone. you gnaw on your tongue as akira hums to himself, working his magic with the beans of his choice. soon enough, the mature aroma of coffee stains the air, wafting like a magic spell towards you and intermingling with his scent. you could get drunk off a smell like this, entranced and held captive in place without a single restraint to physically hold you down.

you’re so caught up in savoring this nice atmosphere, irregardless of the weird tension mounting the back of your mind, that you barely catch akira as he brings you a fancy cup filled with freshly made coffee. he has a matching one for himself, a pair finely decorated porcelain cups that feature what looks like a painted couple in old rococo-esque clothes. they’re definitely meant to be used together, probably best for a couple. you don’t really get the chance to overthink it too much, as he hands you one and keeps one for himself. you mumble a shy word of thanks as you warm your hands against the glass.

your reflection stares back at you when you glance over the rim. the color is dark yet refined, like you’re staring into a rippling lake rather than a cup of coffee. it smells even more delicious now that it’s up close, and it feels like a shame to drink it. it makes you wish that you were a coffee connoisseur in the way that akira is, like you’re unfit to be able to appreciate the art that comes with making a beautiful cup of coffee.

“i made it just the way i remember you to like it. but better, of course, now that i have more practice under my belt. i know what i’m doing with my coffee now. go ahead. try it, and let me know what you think.” akira encourages you. his eyes are twinkling in clear excitement. you peek at him and then back at your dumbfounded self staring back in the coffee.

you bring the cup to your lips and take a tentative sip, not wanting to burn yourself. a rich and deep flavor, bitter and yet delectable, coats your tongue and the inside of your cheeks. it slips down your throat easily, warming you up from the inside and out and taking away the tension building up in your body straight away. you let out a small sigh of happiness as you take the cup away from your lips, and you’re pretty sure your contentment is written all over your face.

he grins. “good, isn’t it? i knew you’d like this one. i’ll spare you all the details about the beans i’ve used since you probably don’t want to hear it. but have as much as you’d like. nothing makes a man prouder than knowing that he’s made his girl happy.”

there it is again. you look down at your coffee cup with mixed feelings stirring in your heart. but the atmosphere right now is too good for you to want to ruin it. you want to savor what little sweetness you can steal from him. you’ve willingly walked into the lion’s den, and if you’re staring directly into doom’s maw, the very least you could do was to find some enjoyment in it.

so instead you simply lift the cup, pretend you’re gulping back any regrets and doubts in your mind, and take another generous mouthful of the coffee akira’s specially brewed for you.

…

“ohhhh- ah- fuck- wait, d-don’t touch me there like that…!”

your body twists violently against his bed, and akira laughs softly against your ear. his grip on you from behind is tight, and no matter how much you thrash against his chest, he refuses to let go of you. your skin is hot despite the cool fabric of his sheets, and it feels like your body’s going to completely give out on you.

you already knew from the start that his coy invitation for coffee was just bait for him to lure you into his bed. but even with that knowledge, there’s something about being stuck back in a lewd embrace with him again that has your stomach coiling in with both excitement and shame. both of your clothes are strewn against his floor, and his cheap mattress creaks as if annoyed whenever you writhe in his arms.

“you’ve changed so much during the time i took my eyes off of you.” one hand gropes shamelessly at your bare tits, sighing when he feels the plush flesh of your chest fill out his palms. his fingers play with your erect nipples, applying just the slightest bit of pressure all to get you to cry out and throw your head back against his bare chest. “and yet… all of your sensitive parts haven’t changed whatsoever. you’ve missed me, haven’t you?”

you don’t have any words for something like that. your lips are swollen from how much he’s kissed you, the small talk about coffee nothing more than an overture for him to lead you into his bedroom, effortlessly coaxing your clothes off of you and indulging in your body again. you hate how well he meshes with your body, how responsive you are to his physical touches, as if you’ve been waiting for this as much as he was.

“i asked you a question.” his sharp voice cuts through the haze in your thoughts, and you shudder when his other hand snakes down your stomach. one knee expertly separates your legs, and a moan builds up in the back of your throat when he starts playing with your wetness.

akira is a tease through and through. he slides his fingers up and down your slit, and you let out an embarrassed squeak, wanting to cover your face. your juices cover his digits, and heat throbs in your core and pulses under the skin of your face when you register the slick sounds your folds make.

fuck—were you really that aroused already?

“so wet… and all we did was kiss. are you that turned on from just that? you’re rather naughty, aren’t you?” he looks at you with words that are nothing like how sweet his eyes are. your voice dies out in your mouth as his fingers start to circle around your pulsing hole, almost like it’s a silent reminder of how much easy access he has to your body.

it’s not fair how easily he can get you to physically succumb to him. this was definitely your fault; you refused any other romantic prospects ever since akira left you, which meant that it had been five long years where your only sexual release was whatever you had to offer to yourself. and with how badly you’ve been pining after him, it was safe to say that touching yourself came nowhere close to having akira’s hands wandering all over your body again.

you yelp when he bites down slightly at your ear, his sharp incisors nipping carefully at the thin skin.

“i want an answer,” he demands breathlessly. “you’ve always been so shy… that part of you hasn’t changed at all.”

“d-don’t make me answer that…!” you choke out. your voice is high-pitched and strained, nothing like the collected facade you had shown him during dinner. he pinches your swollen clit, and pleasure stabs at your stomach. you arch your back against his chest, another desperate cry escaping you. he’s good at this little back and forth, flickering between torturing your clit to rubbing loving circles into your sticky nub. your pussy convulses, and your inner walls are drooling to be fucked out and stuffed with his cock. your body’s missed his touches almost as much as you have emotionally, and the fact that he’s experienced with your body does nothing in your favor.

he presses his lips into the gentle curve of your face, kissing you over and over again. his kisses are so sweet and chaste, unlike the way he toys with your lower half. your hole flutters and dances around his fingertips, leaking like a broken faucet, your pussy telling him everything you refuse to verbalize. he knows how much you want him to fuck you, but he also knows how stubbornly shy you can get. and he also knows that sex is so much more fun when he can peel back all of your walls to get you right where he wants you.

“you’re going to have to answer me, you know,” he purrs. the vibrations reverberate against his chest and towards your bare back. “a gentleman would never do something his lady doesn’t want to do. you can thank sojiro for that.”

you squeeze your thighs slightly around his wrist, and you shudder. “please… don’t do this to me… it’s embarrassing.”

“it’s only me… you’ve slept with me before. why so shy now?” his tongue laps at the shell of your ear, and another shiver runs down your spine when his warm tongue captures your sensitive skin, licking against the thin skin and making your pussy clamp up unintentionally. “unless…? don’t tell me. is there another guy you’ve been doing this with?”

you shake your head vehemently. you wouldn’t ever dream about fucking someone that isn’t akira kurusu.

“like i said, it’s- it’s embarrassing…!!” you breathe. his hands feel so good, touching you all over from behind. you can feel him grinding his hard-on against your ass, and your throat constricts on itself when you feel how big and thick he is. he was always well-built even when you fucked him during your teenage years, but in your memory, he wasn’t this big… your cunt throbs painfully with anticipation at the thought of being stretched out on such a big cock after such a long dry spell, and the arousal swirling slowly in your stomach pleads with you to set your pride aside just this once.

he sighs against your ear. he’s disgustingly sensual, that stupid akira, and his words are honeyed and sensual. “it’s only me… c’mon, all you need to say is that you want me. ‘please fuck me, akira! please fuck me with your cock! i want it inside my pussy!’ that's all you need to say. not too hard now, hm? i basically told you what you needed to say.”

heat burns at your cheeks, and there’s a lump in the back of your throat. you want it, you want to do everything he just said so badly. you want him to pin you down to his cheap mattress and fuck the daylights out of you, until you can’t feel your legs and you can let go of all the emotional baggage you built up. the shame and the embarrassment grip in between your hips, and you swallow back whatever hesitation swims in your gullet.

“p-please fuck me, akira…,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “i want you inside me… want your cock inside my pussy…”

“hm? what was that? i could barely hear you.” akira presses harshly against your clit. you let out a loud yelp, electric pleasure jolting up in your pussy. “see? i know you’re capable of being much louder with that pretty voice of yours…”

if looks could kill, you would have murdered akira in your bed with the glare you shot him. he blinks innocently at you, a small grin poised on his lips. this is a battle you can’t win, unless you want to leave his house unsatisfied and unable to do anything about the throbbing deep inside your gut.

“please fuck me, akira!” you make sure your words are pointed. “i-i want you to fuck me! please put your cock inside my- my pussy…!”

he laughs under his breath and rewards you with a kiss, even though you’re flushing with heat and wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. “oh, i’ll gladly do that, sweetheart. that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

you bite back your complaints, heart thumping wildly inside of your chest. his erection prods against your thighs, and you part them wider so he can slot himself from behind. you swallow again when his cock slides up and down your slit, and your vision spins when he grinds up against your pussy. his fingers continue to rub and play with your clit, making sure that you don’t get even a second of rest from him.

his pre-cum stained cockhead prods naughtily at your fluttering hole. you take in a deep breath as he presses his tip against the tight ring of muscle. his dark eyes peer at you. “ready, my pretty girl?”

you nod, and a moan immediately lodges itself inside your mouth when he pushes himself in. he’s slow, painstakingly slow, when he pushes himself in. it’s like he wants you to feel every inch of his length, reminding you of everything you’ve missed, of how good it felt to have his cock penetrating you again after so long. akira hisses through his teeth, pushing his cock into your cunt, fighting past through all of the hot and wet tightness, and it takes all of his self-restraint not to empty his balls into your pussy right there and then.

“shit…,” he says breathlessly, “were you always this tight…? fuck- your pussy’s clenching all over my dick… can’t get enough of me now, can you?”

you focus on your breathing, trying to relax your body. a dull sense of pleasure pricks at your brain, and it spreads and trickles under your skin as if it’s a droplet of blood pooling at your fingertip and dripping down. your stomach curls in on itself, and even when you were bracing yourself for the stretch, feeling it all anew feels like it’s blowing your brains out.

“ah-,” you exhale shakily, trembling in his arms, “s-so big…”

“yeah?” he sounds strained too, his cock twitching dangerously against its tight restraints. “‘ve missed this pretty pussy so much, love. i knew you weren’t someone i could just let go willy-nilly. i’ve got you now, pretty, all in my arms.”

you hum, savoring the sensation of your plush walls stretching out to fit his cock, his balls tensed up at your entrance. he hadn’t started moving yet and you were this starstruck over his dick. how the hell were you going to live through the whole ordeal? it didn’t matter. even this much felt good and had you writhing like a lithe cat against his chest, your curves slotting straight into his wandering hands like two matching pieces of a puzzle.

“y-you feel different,” you mumble as one hand ghosts over your chest and the other makes its place in between your thighs again. a whimper bubbles up inside of you when he goes back to rubbing slow circles into your clit, your pussy clenching up and massaging his dick as arousal shoots through your stomach.

“mhm? tell me about it.” he draws his hips back carefully, and you can hear him let out a haggard exhale when your walls cling to him, not wanting to let his cock go. the friction has you seeing stars in your mind, your brain threatening to melt into goo. he’s still incredibly slow as he pushes back into you, giving your body a chance to catch up, but even at this pace, his thrusts are deep and full.

you shouldn’t stroke his ego, but you wouldn’t be lying if you said that the five years you spent apart from him did change him. maybe you also had gone too long without him and the withdrawal had changed you too. “i don’t know… you feel bigger- feels good inside me…”

“yeah? keep talking to me then. i missed that sweet voice of yours.” his eyelids flutter when your walls twist around him, your greedy pussy eagerly sucking him in deeper and swallowing him in. “ohhhh, fuck…! shit, you feel so fucking good- so fucking tight… haven’t had your pussy in way too long…”

your chest tightens, and you can feel your breathing growing shaky. his thrusts are slowly getting faster, finding a groove that has your thoughts quivering with each snap of his hips. you’re hypersensitive to how he feels inside of you. you can feel everything, and your pussy remembers again how good it felt to have him fucking you. he remembers too, the angles that you liked and just how deep he needed to fuck into you to get you to squeal. and speak of the devil-

“-!! akira!! n-not there, akira! s-so deep-!” your words start slurring together. pleasure rips through your pussy as he effortlessly locates your sweet spot again and starts bullying your deepest parts with his cockhead. “i-if you keep fucking me like that, you’re gonna make me cum…!”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” akira chuckles. his dark curls sweep against his forehead, eyes hiding behind the wisps of midnight black hair. “what if that’s what i want you to do? what kind of man leaves his girl unsatisfied? it’s only fun when you’re feeling good… i want to see if i can still get you to crumble after all these years.”

you hiccup as he keeps fucking into you. you can’t think properly, not when he’s hitting your sweet spot without any issue, each thrust forcing his cockhead to slam into your g-spot right on. he keeps playing with your clit, moving in rhythm with his thrusts so that you don’t get even a moment’s worth of reprise. your chest is tight, and your breathing is ragged, your brain only managing to hang on just to get enough oxygen to your fluttering heart.

“yeah, you like it when i touch you like this, don’t you?” akira sounds so full of himself as he practically purrs at you like a cat. he wasn’t lying when he said he missed your body; his cock keeps drooling inside of you. your juices intermingle and mix, acting as the perfect lubricant for him. each snap of his hips is faster and harder, and your mind keeps lighting up with sparks of pleasure as his cock stretches you out. “that’s my girl. ‘m so glad i got your attention again. life is just too boring without you here… ‘m not gonna leave you again, you hear? i made that mistake once. i’m not gonna make it twice.”

“akira!” you scream out, unable to hold yourself back. so much for that rightful fear of yours. you could never resist him, not when he’s saying the very things you dreamt of for five years straight, consoling yourself with no one at your side, just imagining how things might be different if he had wanted you as much as you wanted him.

and now he does. now he’s gripping onto your body, making you twist and turn with pleasure, completely at his mercy with your legs spread apart and your cunt stretched out his girthy cock. the squelching noises as his cock slides in and out of you are downright obscene, and you can’t remember the last time you had gotten this shamelessly wet. not even masturbating had your pussy this excited; your fingers could never replace what real dick did for your cunt.

“there we go. that’s my name,” he praises you. “scream it all you want for me. i want to hear your pretty voice. it makes me feel really good when i hear you crying out my name… it’s like you know that i’m your man. only me. not anybody else.”

you shudder, his dirty talk making your stomach furl in on itself. you hate that silken tongue of his, how he can say such sweet things to you and yet turn you on so badly. you’re glad that he likes you this much; otherwise, you don’t even want to think about what other embarrassing things he might make you do for his own entertainment. this is his version of playing nice. you’re lucky that he considers himself a gentleman and would do anything for your pleasure.

the lewd sounds of lovemaking and skin against skin quickly fill the room, and he’s thrusting into you just the way you like it. he wasn’t lying when he said he remembered every detail of your sensitive body. he was so good at playing with your body that it almost felt like you were being attacked at all angles. he was showering your nipples and clit with attention, his lips chasing after your body and pressing sticky kisses all over whatever patches of bare skin he could reach. he’d lean his head to make out with you too, eating up your moans as you cry into his mouth, his tongue swirling against yours and making you almost collapse into a heap of sweaty limbs and lovejuices out of how good it was.

“so tight… yeah, you like it like this, don’t you? my cock is the best, isn’t it? you keep clenching up around me, pretty girl,” he breathes. his words are velvety and dark, and whenever he slips his tongue into your mouth, he tastes so addictively good. “i can feel how much your pussy wants me… even if you’re committed to being this shy, your body tells me everything i need to know.”

“don’t say things like that…!” you somehow force your words out through gritted teeth. “i already told you, it’s embarrassing!”

his lips curl into a cruel smile as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, clearly enjoying the way he’s making you squirm. if there’s one thing akira loves, it’s putting you in the hotseat and knowing that he has this kind of effect on you. “is it though? i’m only telling the truth.”

he pinches at your clit at the same time he thrusts up harshly into you, and you let out a breathless shriek as red-hot pleasure rams into your gut. your inner walls clamp down unconsciously onto his dick, gripping onto every inch of his cock. your cervix milks and massages his tip, your pussy pleading desperately to be filled up with both his cock and his cum.

“just like that.” he sounds so pleased with himself. akira isn’t the kind of guy to get a big head and walk around as if he ruled the place, but he wasn’t one to let any of his victories just slide past. “see? that pretty pussy of yours won’t lie to me.”

your stomach won’t stop lurching with each rough thrust. the heat deep inside of you keeps coiling into painful knots, and you think you’re going to lose your mind. all you can think about is how good it feels to have akira messing up your insides, your walls squelching and molding itself to the shape of his cock. the pleasure is mind-numbing in every sense of the word, and your brain keeps devouring all of the sensations flickering underneath your skin. he knows how to get you aroused too easily, and he makes sure you feel everything he’s doing to you. whether it’s speeding up or slowing down, egging you on with your most sensitive parts, he doesn’t give you an opportunity to really catch up with him.

“feels good- feels so good-,” your words are starting to melt together incoherently, all of the overwhelming sensations getting the better of you. “if you keep fucking me like that, you’re gonna make me cum…”

“oh, silly girl, we’ve talked about this already.” he kisses your shoulder, and your mouth goes dry when the tip of his sharp teeth ghosts over your exposed skin. “i already told you that that was my goal from the very start. i wanna see my girl cum all over my cock, just like you used to do. you’d make the prettiest noises as you came… are you going to moan for me like that again? or are you going to get shy? do i have to fuck the moans out of you?”

you whimper helplessly, cunt tightening up. you hate how much that turns you on, how much letting him have his way with you has you melting like putty. you must have more of a masochistic side than you’re willing to admit, given how much you get off on having akira manhandle you.

“don’t be mean to me… you’re so mean…,” you eke out weakly.

“i’m not being mean. if anything, you’re the mean one… is it too much for a man to want to see how good he’s making his girl feel? i want to see your face twisted in pleasure, your voice all ruined for me, your body all messed up because of me…,” he hums to himself. the lump in the back of your throat is there again, and as if to accentuate his point, he thrusts sharply into you.

a shockwave of heat shreds you from the inside out, and you arch your back harshly. he keeps torturing you like this. is this his way of edging you? keeping you this close to the edge and telling you about how much he wants to make you cum but not really letting you? akira loves how responsive your pussy is, how you keep milking his cock and fluttering all excitedly around him whenever he whispers about all the lewd things he wants to do to you. your thighs won’t stop shaking, and your juices are dripping everywhere, coating his balls and trickling down your skin and messing up his sheets.

you’re going to cum soon. your body feels weak and flushed all at once, and heat keeps mounting wildly inside of you. you can’t keep up with everything akira’s doing to you, and no matter how much he’s teasing you and whispering all sorts of dirty things into your ear, all of it is going straight into making your pussy feel good. your cunt won’t quit sucking him in, instantly hooked on the feeling of having your ex-fling’s cock stuffing it again.

you’re better than this. you know that, and yet you’re not above falling prey to akira’s words and honeyed traps. he’s spun a perfect web to ensnare you in, and you never stood a chance. he has you right where he wants you.

and you look so, so beautiful to him. he can feel how close you are. your pussy keeps pulsing and squeezing around his length, and your moans are growing more and more desperate. your eyes have lost focus a long time ago, but he knows that if he were to grab your face and force you to look at him, your pupils would still dilate and show him a clear reflection of his triumphant face. sweat beads at your body, and your bare skin is all laid out for him to admire. how could he ever leave you behind like that? you’re everything he’s ever wanted and more. it’s almost too good for him to believe.

“wanna cum-,” you stumble over your own words. “please- ‘m so close, akira… it hurts- don’t edge me…”

he hums, and you let out a pained whine when he slows his pace down, dragging his cock out of you painfully. your hole clings to every inch of his cock, not wanting to let him go, scared that he won’t fuck himself back into you. your brain lights up with pleasure as he slowly fucks himself back in before speeding back up, and the sensation is like whiplash to your overwhelmed senses.

your stomach curls dangerously, and your vision shakes violently as the heat rushes to your gut. you’re so close, so close to cumming, basically almost there. you hold your breath, anticipating the dizzying fall, just needing a little more from him to tip you over the edge. you clench your eyes shut as your insides throw a fit, overstimulated and reeling from how downright good it feels to get dicked down again.

except akira won’t give it to you that easily.

you let out a drawn out cry when he controls his pace and refuses to give you what you want, and you writhe in his arms, clawing at his bare skin and shaking your head back and forth. it’s awful, you hate it, you hate not being able to cum, feeling like there was a dry spell that refused to be satiated. you feel hollow and empty despite him fucking his cock back into you, trying to build that arousal back up.

“y-you’re edging me!” you protest. “please- i was so close- just wanna cum… it hurts…”

“sorry.” he doesn’t sound sorry at all, but he tries to appease you by pressing another flurry of sweet kisses to your face and neck. “can you blame me though? you sound so pretty, look so pretty… i like knowing that i still have it in me. hm? i’m making you feel good, aren’t i?”

it’s unfair how easily he can mess around with both your physical needs and your emotions. all you care about right now is the burning in between your thighs, the secondary pulse inside of your pussy wanting release. your pussy keeps getting more and more sloppy, juices spilling everywhere. your body isn’t resisting any of his touches anymore, and he’s fucking into you without cracking a sweat.

“c’mon,” he whispers seductively. “let me hear you beg for me some more. this is the only time you’ll ever sweeten up to me. you’re usually the thorny one otherwise. think you’re up for it? or do i need to tell you what to say again?”

your throat tightens, and your mind wavers. your thoughts have hazed over a long time ago, not caring about anything else happening in the world. all that mattered to you right now was the delicious stretch of akira’s cock inside your hole, and all you wanted right now was to cum all over his dick like you didn’t have a shred of pride left in your body. and you bet that was what akira wanted out of you: his guarded and jaded former classmate fucked out into a loving, cum-stained mess right in his bed.

the words are leaving your mouth before you can even fully comprehend them. “want it- want it so bad, akira… please, please, wanna cum on your cock- i’ve wanted it so bad… wanted it all this time, nothing else made me feel good! your cock’s the best, i wanna cum on your cock… please- i can’t think about anything else!”

he laughs breathlessly. you don’t know if it’s because he’s incredulous or if it’s because he’s impressed. maybe both. you couldn’t care less, not when your arousal pounds painfully throughout every corner of your body. you think you’ll actually burst if you don’t get to cum soon.

“yeah? god, can you blame me for getting so greedy with you when this is the kind of shit you reward me with?” he kisses your temples softly, and his lips move against your sweat-beaded skin. “i suppose i’ve tortured you enough, yeah? what a good girl you are, doing everything i ask you to do… it’s okay, i’m not going anywhere. you can cum on my cock as much as you want. it’s my turn to pamper my girl a bit…”

finally. finally…! good god, you swear you’re about to see the pearly gates right there. akira angles his hips just right, and he rams mercilessly into you, savoring the choked out cries and moans of thanks you let out, his name generously mixed into your muddled whimpers the way he likes it best. you’re hanging on by a thread, and akira’s fucking you in a way that’ll have you come undone any moment now.

“c-cumming…! ‘m cumming- akira- oh fuck- fuck, fuck, cumming!”

your cunt clamps down on his cock like a vice, and you throw your head back, a breathless shriek dying out on your lips as your orgasm crashes into you like a brick wall. something warm and wet gushes out in between your thighs, and heat overtakes you entirely. it feels so good, feeling that tightness in your gut snap and unravel and come completely loose, all of the pleasure coursing through your veins and making your mind go entirely blank. you can barely force a breath through your mouth, shuddering as akira guides you through your high, keeping your quivering walls stretched out to their limit as he pumps his cock in and out you through it all.

your world spins, and it feels like everything is giving out under you. your already foggy vision is fighting to stay as it is, and you cling to whatever part of akira is holding you from behind. fuck, you can’t remember when the last time you came like this was. masturbating and fucking yourself on your fingers all by yourself always felt so dull and lackluster, and actually getting a taste of real dick after having been deprived for so long felt like your entire universe was being flipped upside down. you didn’t even realize how badly you were shaking until akira held firmly onto your form, keeping you locked flush against his bare chest.

“ooh, bet that felt really nice-,” his voice warbles through your hearing. your heartbeat roars against your ears, and it takes everything in you to fully focus on what he’s saying. “fuck- i missed making my girl cum like that… i almost forgot that you make such a pretty face whenever you cum… makes me want to tease you even more. yeah? did it feel that good to cum on my cock? you missed it too, didn’t you?”

your head is heavy as you try to get yourself to nod, fully aware of all the slick covering his cock now. did you really cum that hard? you can’t make heads or tails out of anything right now, the aftermath of your high still possessing you fully. you’re a fucked out mess in that moment, and your head buzzes with the dull thrums of euphoric pleasure. you’re vaguely aware of how much akira’s dick is twitching inside of you, undoubtedly hurtling close to his own high now that he’s seen you turn into this mushy mess all because of him.

his balls twitch against your lower lips. his cock keeps spasming deep inside of you, and the same desperation that had claimed you whole is egging him on too. he wants to fuck his cum into you, watch your cunt struggle to keep all of it, stare down at you with his lust-stricken eyes as the pearly white ropes start to leak out of you.

you whine against the friction as he keeps bucking his hips against yours, grinding up just to feel a bit more of you. your head spins at the overstimulation, with him still rutting against you despite the fact that you just came. “t-too much, akira-”

“i’m close, promise-,” he grunts out. “bear with me, okay? so close, gonna fill up your pretty pussy with my cum- you’re being so good for me…”

you nod weakly. you want him to fill you up, want to feel the swell of your stomach as his cum floods your insides. you can bear that much. you keep crying out for him, letting your voice spur him on. you’re sure you’re going to be a sore mess tomorrow, aches already spreading across your lower back and legs, but with how much downright pleasure he can plunge you straight into, it’s a worthwhile trade off.

“god, you’re so fucking perfect…! take it- fuck- take it all… gonna make you mine, gonna make you my girl-,” akira groans. you yelp when he grabs at your hips and keeps you stuck in place, and he buries his cock as deep as he can fuck himself into you. a cold shiver spreads across your spine when he cums hard straight into your cunt, and the warmth bursts across your gut. your walls keen and strain as it stretches out to take his semen while his cock is still stuffed inside, and a sense of otherworldly bliss spreads across your brain when you can feel white hot ropes flood your womb.

“ohhhh- fuck- god-,” akira cries out. he buries his head against your shoulder, panting heavily. your intoxicating scent fills his nose, and he swears that he’s no longer on this earth. just as much as you’ve craved the physical intimacy, akira longed to feel this again, to feel your weight in his arms, to feel the warmth of his cock softening inside of your cunt as your lovejuices mix together. all sorts of hazy pleasures flicker up inside of his mind, and there’s nothing he wants to do more than to keep whispering sweet nothings to you and have you all plugged up with his cum, cement you as his for just a few seconds longer.

but he knows better than to push his luck even more than he has. your mind is swimming even more than his is, and he has to be the responsible one despite having initiated this whole mess to begin with.

he pulls out with a low groan, and you turn over to lay down on your back finally. your knees part unconsciously, and when akira sits up, he’s immediately entranced at the slow stream of his cum that trickles out of your fluttering hole. his cum slides down the curve of your ass and onto his sheets, a small pool forming underneath you.

did… he really cum that much?

he lets you have a second to pull yourself together, and he helps you. you’re still shaky, but you manage to thank him quietly as he gets up. he grabs the base of his half-hard cock, and he presses the sticky tip to your mouth. you look up at him wordlessly through your eyelashes, but your tongue darts out in between your lips. you obediently start licking the excessive cum off of his length, making sure to swirl your tongue into his slit and let him see you swallowing down whatever he couldn’t fuck into your throbbing cunt.

you missed this salty, heady taste too. you wish you weren’t so fucked out, wish you had something intelligent to say to this. more than anything else though, you wish you could feel something other than a sick sense of delight at everything that went down. you should be mortified at letting him pry his way into your heart so easily, for letting your walls down so quickly despite having spent five years building them up.

but now that everything was said and done, all you wanted in that moment was for him to lay down again so you could crawl back into his arms and feel his heartbeat against your bare body. that was the kind of man akira kurusu was. you couldn’t bring yourself to stay away from him for too long, no matter what you tried. you two were meant to be, no matter how much that sentiment had hurt you whenever you were young.

akira mumbles something about getting ready to clean you up, and you gingerly let yourself flop back down on his bed. fatigue seeps quickly into you. too much happened all at once that night, and no matter how much you fought through the fog in your head to make sense of everything, you remember very little after a certain point.

…

the appetizing scent of curry and coffee greets you when you slowly let your eyelids flutter open. you’re still naked, and the blanket covering you is light and cool. a gentle stream of sunlight tiptoes through the bedroom, and you stir, suddenly aware of how sleep-logged and heavy your body feels. still, it feels nice when you stretch your arms and legs, before realization slams into your consciousness like a sack of bricks.

you shoot upright, and your back immediately screams out in pain.

fuck. you messed up. you messed up big time.

you scramble to the edge of the bed, and in the corner, your clothes are freshly laundered and folded up. uncertainty gnaws at your stomach, and you rush to get dressed, haphazardly dragging your clothes over your head and slithering into whatever you had on last night. there’s no sign of akira anywhere, at least inside the bedroom, but this place is very much not your room nor your bed, so it has to be akira’s.

it was one thing to go out to dinner with akira and go back to his place for a cup of coffee. it was another to somehow end up having sex with him and passing out in his bed as if you two were actually lovers. you want to slap yourself in the face as the mortification fully settles in. you had only wanted closure last night, and now you don’t know what to make of the situation. things just got messy way too fast; you never had intended on sleeping with him, let alone letting him fuck you raw and creampie you.

you have half a mind to make a run straight for his front door, but when you crack his bedroom door open, you can hear humming and the clattering of plates from the kitchen. you shyly pad out into his hallway and towards where the noise is coming from. whatever foolish hopes you had of making a clean getaway were gone the moment you woke up, clearly having slept in from how much sunlight was pouring in through all of the windows. the very least you could do was maybe thank him for taking care of you last night and apologize for staying the night unexpectedly.

“oh!” akira whirls around with a pan in his hand. surprise blooms on his face, but he quickly smiles at you. “you’re up already! was i too loud? here, why don’t you take a seat at the table? i was hoping i could wake you up with breakfast already prepared, but i guess you beat me to it.”

heat pricks at your cheeks. you want to decline his offer, but the scent of food hits far stronger now that you’re close to the source. you’re begrudgingly reminded of how hungry you are when your stomach practically yowls, so you hang your head and shuffle awkwardly over to take a seat at his dining table. at the center is a small box of contraception and a glass of water, clearly meant for you, and you’re rendered shy again at how far ahead akira is compared to you.

he must have woken up early to have run to the store for plan b and to have enough time to basically cook up a whole meal for you. you don’t have to wait long before akira proudly presents you with a plate of hot rice and curry, followed by a mug of coffee prepared the way you like it best.

“eat. you’ll need the energy if you’re going to be taking the pill,” he encourages you. he presses a spoon into your hand, and you say a quick word of thanks before digging into the food. you’re not sure if it’s because he’s a good chef or if it’s because you’re ravenous, but you make quick work of breakfast. akira laughs softly at how you’re wolfing down your food and reminds you to chew, but before either of you know it, both of your plates are empty and a strained silence lingers above your heads.

“um…” you glance nervously at him. “i can do your dishes before i leave. and- um- please let me know how much i owe you for everything. i really should be on my way…”

“do my dishes? owe me anything?” the dark-haired man looks at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “are you in a rush to go somewhere?”

you should lie and tell him you have a prior appointment. if you’re smart, you would have hopped on the closest train that’ll take you far far away from this dangerous man. but clearly you aren’t as smart as you believe yourself to be, given how many times you chose against the “smarter” option to land yourself where you are now. what’s one more indulgent mistake?

“not… necessarily.” you don’t know how to tell him that you’re not sure how to face everything now. it’s impossible to close the gap of five years in just one hookup, no matter how much your hearts might have both yearned for it. there’s a lot of heavy emotional work left to be done if you want something meaningful to come out of it, and you can’t deny the fact that akira has objectively hurt you by disappearing from your life five years ago.

but when he reaches over the dining table to take your hand and squeeze it encouragingly, your resolve can only hold strong for so long. you peer up from where you’re staring down at your lap. his beautiful doe eyes are looking straight at you, and your heart throbs painfully inside of your chest.

you want him. you want this. you want all of it to work out, somehow.

“if there’s no hurry,” he murmurs soothingly, “stay a while. we have so much we have to catch up on.”

you want to believe in the good. in the worthwhile. in the in-betweens and the gray spaces and the happy endings that are still in the making. it might not have been there the last time, but things have changed, regardless of whether or not you’re willing to accept. with his hand intertwined with yours, this newfound tension hanging between the two of you, maybe it’s time for you to close the gap that had been plaguing you for so long.

this time, you won’t be alone.

author's note: wowee two fics from user pparadiselost within a week!!! i know, i know i have the most random posting schedule oopsie,,,, (//ω//) this fic is dedicated to @clubkira and was inspired by her lovely selfship with akira kurusu! i hope you all enjoyed reading, and if you want to show some appreciation, please consider donating to the humanitarian cause in gaza!!

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