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irishmammonagenda · 1 month

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Boop!- Obey Me x Reader

Summary: You go on a mission to boop, as per usual chaos ensues. Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Female Reader (implied), i dont really think there's anything else but if you can see something lmk and i'll add a warning

very obviously inspired by tumblr's boop event

dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Hello Michael!" You greet, signature foxy grin on your face. Michael looks up from where he's playing Connect Four with a man in robes and waves at you.

"Hiya MC!" He puts the palms of his hands on the soft cloud ground and leans back on them, he's bare chested in the heat, though he's adorned himself with waist beads and arm bands, firm muscles on display. His long curly blond hair is in intricate braids, small ornaments threaded through it. He grins up at you, bright red eyes shining under the light of the Celestial sun. "What's brought ya up to the Celestial Realm today?"

"I am evil. I am very evil Michael." You say seriously.

The other man laughs, though not unkindly. His tanned skin shimmers ethereally under the light, dark brown eyes stare up at you, rich like soil after the morning due. Dark waves and soft curls frame his face, some soft stubble one his jawline, barely noticeable. "I'm sure you're not evil." He says kindly.

You stare at him, before smiling as well, touched. "Aww thanks! And you are?"

The man smiles, reaching his hand up, Michael takes that time to sneakily move one of the coins the man had put down a slot over. "I'm Jesus, it's nice to meet you MC."

You cough. "You're Jesus?"

"Yes." He nods, "A lot of people are shocked when they first meet me...something about expecting me to look like Da Vinci's gay lover."

You nod, dumbfounded.

Michael, sensing your inner turmoil, and also needing to keep Jesus' attention elsewhere so he could continue cheating- winning creatively in Connect 4, clears his throat, "So what's brought you to the Celestial Realm and made you claim that you're evil?"

This makes you grin, "Well, my dearest Michael....have you heard of boops?"

Michael straightens up a little bit, Jesus watches him intently, before fixing the board to its original state whilst the Archangel is distracted.

"No I have not...Why, what are they?" Michael asks, signature mischievous grin on his face. "They sound fun."

"Well I'm glad you asked Michael!" You grin, before leaning in and whispering into his ear. The added proximity made you realise he smelt of pine cone and fresh rain.

Michael giggles evilly, turning over to Jesus, before reaching a dark, jewel adorned hand and booping his nose. "Boop!"

Jesus just smiles, Crucifixion was worse. "It's your go, Michael."

"Oh of course! MC wait for this game to be over! I have...uh..business to attend to in the Devildom!"

You and Jesus share a look.

Michael looks over at you two, "You coming Jesus?"

The man smiles gently, "No thanks, I'm still traumatised from that one time when Satan tormented me in the desert."

"Oh okay...." Michael deflates the tiniest smidge before looking back at the board, spluttering. "Hey you moved the pieces!"

Jesus snorts, "Yeah, I moved the pieces back from where you tried to cheat."

"Lying's a sin." Michael huffs.

Jesus laughs, "Was that an admition of guilt?"

Michael falls onto his back dramatically, dark skin shining in the Celestial Realm's blessed light. "Ugh! Woe is me! This is worse than the time that one Irish kid got me confused with Michael Collins!"

Jesus pats his shoulder in pity. "Easter's a hard time for all of us."

Michael blinks at the scars on Jesus' palms from the nails and bites back a very bad Cross joke. "You could say that again."

After the game of Connect 4 ended, (Michael lost) you and the Archangel said your goodbyes to Jesus and began your journey down to the Devildom. Michael walks beside you, a good bit taller than you. Michael having swapped out his less than covering attire for a flowy white flare sleeved top that you'd imagine a pirate or a Victorian would wear, the lace buttons are undone for the most part, as per usual. You'd come to learn that the Archangel hated top buttons with a burning passion.

"I call Lucikins." Michael says with about as much seriousness as a 10 year old calling shotgun on the front seat of the car. So very serious.

"Fine. I call Mammon." You reply, looking up at him, as if daring him to try and boop your first man before you could. He pouts, but relents.

"I call Satan then." Michael blinks back at you with crimson eyes.

"No why?" You sulk.

Michael shrugs. "He's my nephew. I get to boop his nose it's the law."

"No it's not."

"Yeah it is!"

"Prove it then." You huff.

Michael turns around and you hear fidgeting before he hands you a paper napkin with writing on it. You notice the fountain pen he sneakily snuck back into his trouser pocket and glare at him, before reading the napkin.

The Eleventh Commandment: Thou shall let Michael boop his nephew's nose.

You hum, "Something's telling me this is fake."

Michael gasps incredulously, as if offended by the very notion, he places a hand over his breast, where his heart is. "How dareth thou! Truly, 'tis a crime against nature to speak such filth about the Holy Word. A crime against God I daresay!"

"Okayy...drama king."

Michael gasps again. "Alas! Thou speaketh such filth! Such blasphemy to thee! Thy words...such horrors! Cursed are thou amongst humankind!"

You deadpan. "I'm taking away your Shakespeare rights."

"Try it I dare you." Michael challenges, red eyes gleaming with something predatory. "You can boop Simeon."

You grin. "Yay!"

"I call Luke."

Your grin drops. "What the frickety flip that's my son."

Michael's brows furrow. "He's my son too what the flip."

You gasp, bringing your hands to your mouth. "Did we?..."

Michael's eyes widen, he pulls his top up and counts his ribs, losing count several times because you keep adding random numbers in. He looks up at you.

"Did we have a child out of Wedlock?!"

You and Michael look at each other in object horror. Both conveniently ignoring the fact that Luke technically came into existence millennias before you.

"I think we did...." You place your hand over your brow like a Victorian woman seeing the ankles of her secret lesbian lover for the first time.

Michael follows suit.

"Michael....I fear we might be sinners...."

"Well you know what they say in the human world MC...." Michael sniffles, looking away from you dramatically. "Sinner sinner chicken dinner...."

You pause, breaking character. "Is it not Winner winner chicken dinner?"

Michael shrugs. "Not like I care."

You parrot his movement, shrugging your shoulders back as well, before the horror creeps back onto your expression. "But...Simeon and Barbatos also see Luke as their son...."

Michael looks at you wide eyed, grabbing you by the shoulders, "MC! We have to count their ribs!"

You put your head in your hands, "Two angels, a demon and a human with angel blood that's somehow an angel....our son is a hybrid!"

Michael gasps. "Hybrid princess?"

You do a double take. "Why do you know what gacha is." You breath out, looking at Michael in genuine fear.

"I wasn't a gacha kid don't worry! Levi was though! He'd show me his little Gacha stories that he made...." Michael looks nostalgic. "Such an adorable little weirdo....he gets it from Lucifer y'know."

"If I described Lucifer as an adorable little weirdo I think he'd skin me alive."

"That sounds like a you problem." Michael grins.

You and Michael continue your journey down to the Devildom, only this time he's giving you a piggy back ride because you annoyed him until he agreed. Strong hands hold your thighs to keep you from falling, as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

You had been 'calling' people to boop.

"I call Diavolo."

"Deal." Michael nods, trying and failing to twist his head around to face you because you're on his back and he's not an owl. "I don't want to accidentally start another Celestial War by booping the Prince and acting King of the Devildom's nose."

"That's surprisingly a good reason."

"Fuck you mean surprisingly?" Michael scoffs, though there's no real bite to it. "I'm always having good reasons."

"Yeah and I'm the spawn of Satan." You say sarcastically, human world side winning over for a second, until you remember that Satan is in fact a real person and that you are in fact now in the Devildom.

Michael laughs, "You know who Satan's the spawn of? Lucifer."

"Don't let him hear you say that."

"What's he gonna do? Bully me while I'm in a desert? Jokes on him, I hate sand and don't go anywhere near it."

"I don't feel safe anymore, we're gonna get jumped."

Michael laughs.

"I call Levi, I need to return an anime to him anyway." Michael breaks the silence.

"You borrow animes from Levi?"

"Yeah sometimes, me and Saint Peter watch animes at the gates of Heaven when it's a slow day and not a lot of souls are being guided into it."

"Nah imagine dying and waking up in heaven to see the people at the gates watching anime."

Michael sticks out his tongue, though stops when he remembers you're on his back and can't see it.

"I call Barbatos."

Michael sighs in relief, carrying you through the streets of the Devildom. "Thank God, you can have him. Good luck with that."

"Go fuck yourself Michael. I call Thirteen."

Michael gasps excitedly. "Tell her I say hi!"

"Tell her yourself."

Michael huffs. "You're so mean to me MC."

You bite his neck, really embodying your inner feral street cat. He yelps. "Don't try to steal my wife, next time I'll bite your jugular pretty boy."

Michael laughs, "I am quite pretty..." He flips his hair, the intricate golden braids and curls hit you in the face, seeing as you're still on his back. You let out a sound similar to a feral street cat coughing up a hairball, he laughs again. "Also I'm pretty sure Thirteen is a lesbian."

You perk up. "Oh yay! You should be the priest at our wedding Michael. You don't have a choice."

"Fine." The archangel huffs, his plump lips pouty. "But only if Luke's the flower boy."

"I was gonna make him the ring boy giver person." You reply, playing with one of the ornaments braided into Michael's hair.

"Even better!"

Moments of comfortable silence last before you decide to break it because you're evil and have no moral code whatsoever.

"Michael you can have Solomon."

Said Archangel halts. Dropping you off of his back before turning to look at you, now strewn out on the ground. He puts his hand over his brow like a Victorian man who just saw the ankles of his gay lover. (Probably Solomon: You'd decided.)

"No! How couldeth thou?" He sighs dramatically before it just turns exhasperated. "Those rumours just died down...."

You jump up off of the ground, wiping the soil from your clothes, "They have?! Dammit!"

Michael deadpans at you, pulling at a golden coil of hair and letting it be stretched straight before letting go and watching it bounce back up into a curl again. "I hate you."

"That's harsh."

After having separated from Michael, you sneak into your First Man's room. He sits lazily, lounging on his bed and scrolling mindlessly through his DDD. So enraptured he doesn't even notice your presence just yet until you press your finger to his nose.

"Boop!"

"ARGHH-" he screeches, jumping atleast five feet in the air before realising it was you and scoffing. "Oh...It's you...o-of course ye'd wanna boop the Great Mammon's nose! That'll cost ya!" He huffs, trying to avoid the initial embarassment of you seeing him so uncool!

"Boop!" You boop him again, he grins stupidly like an idiot inlove, before snapping out of it and putting his 'too cool for this' persona back on.

"T-that'll cost ye! MC!" He stutters, trying to cover his blush.

"Oh will it now?" You raise a brow before bringing your lips to his nose and pecking it there, pulling away again in less than a second. "Boop."

He pulls you in for a hug before you can pull away completely. You grin, having reduced the Avatar of Greed to a blushy pile of mush in your arms.

Take that Alpha Male podcasters who think women want dominant mean men who suck and hate them. Everyone knows all women want a Mammon.

You and Michael meet back up again. Michael having a scratch on his leg.

"Satan did not like the fact that I booped him at first...until I gave him an emergency kitten that I put in a cage nearby like 5 minutes before." Michael says, noticing that you noticed the scratch. "He almost bit me! He's definitely Lucikin's son!"

You point and laugh at him. He pouts, before interlocking your arms. "Purgatory hall?"

"Purgatory hall." You nod.

Michael knocks on the door. Luke answers it before gasping like a child on christmas. "Michael! Hi!" He hugs the Archangel who laughs and picks him up.

The blond boy notices you at that point, he smiles brightly. "Oh MC! Hi!"

"Hiya Luke!" You smile at him, booping his nose. "Boop!"

"Michael follows suit. "Boop!"

Luke blinks before grumbling. "I'm not a child..." He then turns his head back towards Michael who's still holding him. "Boop!"

Michael laughs. "Do MC now!" With that he quickly moves closer to you, Luke still in his arms, and the young angel boops your nose too. You all grin, laughing. Luke just ecstatic that Michael was able to visit. And he brought you too!

You end up watching a movie together, all three of you. Simeon comes home halfway through it. Having had to visit a publishers. Michael hides behind the door and when Simeon opens it, the dark skinned angel pops out, booping the poor man. "Boop!"

Simeon blinks at him. Michael smirks lightheartedly "Get booped Loserboy."

Simeon smiles, his gaze turning toward you." MC would you lie any help with your Solomon x Michael fanfiction? I heard from Satan that you two were on hiatus."

Michael groans. "Traitors!"

You laugh. "Get fanficked Loserboy."

Michael grins, putting on faux dramatics. "You both suck I'm going back into Luke! At least he's actually cool."

After a lovely movie with Luke, Simeon and Michael, you run away to a cave because why not?

After entering Thirteen's very lovely abode, and avoiding all of the traps laid out for Solomon, you finally catch a glimpse of her vibrant ombre hair.

"Hiya Tee!" You grin, pouncing on her and pulling her into a hug. The reaper, who's clearly batshit insane doesn't even flinch, she just laughs, hugging you back even tighter.

"MC! To what do I owe the pleasure babes?"

You giggle michieviously before bringing your hand up and, "Boop!"

She grins wider, bloodied emerald eyes staring back at you so lovingly, hints of playful devilry in her expression.

"Oh let me try! Boop!" She says before pulling you in for a kiss that makes your knees feel weak.

When you both pull away to catch a breath, you breathe out breathlessly. "That was a super boop....an evil boop even..." You say, face burning red, you know she feels the red hotness of your cheeks.

She just laughs. Tilting her head, some strands of hair falling into her face. "You want another one?"

You've never nodded quicker in your life.

"How in Diavolo's name did you get in here?" Lucifer asks, looking up from the work on his desk. He quickly closes over the confidential files and paperwork, turning his head to Michael once more. Blood red eyes narrowed at their counterpart's.

Michael approaches the Demon at a speed that could rival Mammon's. In an instant he's beside the raven-haired man. "Awww Lucikins don´t worry about it! Boop!"

Lucifer swallows thickly, and flicks his gaze to Michael. Despite having the glare of a thousand suns on him, Michael continues grinning. "Did you...did you just boop my nose?..." The Avatar of Pride asks in a low voice.

"I'm not too sure if I did..." Michael puts his fingers to his chin in mock thought, before grinning, pointer finger in the air. "I'll have to do it again to make sure!" The Archangel exclaims before booping his younger brother on the nose. "Boop!"

Lucifer growls. "Michael-"

"Yes, Lucikins?"

"Michael I am going to kill you."

The elder only laughed, "Awww classic Lucikins! Still in his teenage angst phase!"

"I did not have a teenage angst phase." Lucifer glares, huffing embarassedly, turning away and picking up his quill in an attempt to turn away from this god awful conversation.

Michael gives him a knowing look. "Don't make me pull out the photos."

His head snaps back to his elder brother. "What photos?"

"The photos of you with the wolf cut, the ones with you and the eyeliner, the ones where you're all dressed up in your little emo costumes..." Michael wipes a tear from his eye. "Oh...you were so adorable! Always threatening to murder me...! Glad to see that my wittle baby brother hasn't changed!" The Archangel exclaims, pinching his younger brother's cheeks and making them squish up, Lucifer felt his face flush with embarrassment. Michael laughed, he looked like a chipmunk!

"...'m no' a 'ittle ba'y bro'er! you'r tw' minu'es ol'er than 'ee!" Lucifer tries to shout, but with Michael pushing his cheeks together, it comes out muffled and distorted.

"All I heard is that you said I'm the best big brother in the three realms and you love me very much!"

Lucifer glares at him. A glare that doesn't hold any weight seeing as Michael is still squishing his cheeks together and he still looks like a chipmunk.

With enough squirming and fighting, Lucifer finally manages to get out of his brother's grip, he rubs his cheeks, staring daggers at the angel. "I would never say that. I'm not your baby brother. I'm not Lucikins. You're two minutes older than me yet two centuries more immature." He says venomously.

Too bad Michael's poison proof.

The Archangel laughs, "You're not my baby brother? Huh? Who's bed did you climb in when you were scared of the thunder back in the Celestial Realm?"

Lucifer bristles, swallowing thickly, "That's irrelevant."

"Sureee." Michael grins, though it's softer around the edges, Lucifer feels it too.

Lightning flashes in the Celestial realm. Long before Mammon had even been born. Thunder roars, a small whimper sounds. Lucifer sits in his bed, covers over his head, gripping a pillow tightly. Barely even a cherub, he takes the slight break in the storm to gather the courage to waddle over to his twin's bed.

"Mikey?" Lucifer whispers in the darkness, gripping onto the poles of the bed with his tiny pale hands. "Mikey...you awake?" He says through gapped teeth, a slight lisp in his voice. The gap between his two front teeth would close with time.

The sheets rustle, a young Michael groans, also barely a cherub his voice is as high pitched and childlike as his brother's. "Luci...go to sleep..." The slightly older cherub says, eyes still closed.

"Can't Mikey...'s too loud.." Lucifer whispers, black hair sticking to his forehead in a slight sheen of sweat. As if to prove his point, thunder roars again, lightning flashes. Lucifer whimpers, gripping the pole tighter.

Michael sits up sleepily, short curly hair tied in the tiniest protective braids possible, some small blond coils escaping their confines at the edges of his head. The older cherub wipes a small, chubby hand over his eyes and yawns before opening his duvet up just enough so that Lucifer could climb in.

"Make sure...go to sleep Lucikins..." Michael whispers tiredly, covering his yawning mouth before abandoning his teddy bear and putting his arm around his little brother instead.

Thunder sounds again. Lucifer stiffens and lets out a small sound. "Mikey...'m scared..." He grips onto his twins matching pajamas tightly with his tiny little hands.

Michael grins sleepily, red eyes staring into his twins same coloured ones. "Don't worry Lucikins! 'm always gonna p'tect you! That's wha' big brothers are for!"

The thunder still sounds, Lucifer still stiffens slightly,but surrounded by the warmth and comfort of his twin, he manages to sleep soundly.

After all the madness and badness. (Devil face emoji) You and Michael meet up in a Devildom café.

"That was productive!" The Archangel grins.

"Indeed it was Michael....indeed it was...." You say, a blissed out look on your face.

Michael arches a brow, "Is that one of Thirteen's leather jackets?"

"Maybe..." You say dreamily, playing with the sleeves.

Michael just laughs at you. "Get it, I guess! Anyway wanna watch Gilmore Girls with me? I need to catch up with Raphael...he's a few episodes ahead of me."

"Of course I do."

Michael brings his hands together in an imitation of a fly on a wall doing the hand thing. "Excellent."

"Do you think Luke's going to grow up to open a coffee shop?"

"Nah, he'd open a bakery."

this is utter bullshit and utter dogshit idek

#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #omswd #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me michael #obey me thirteen #obey me thirteen x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me jesus #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me fluff #boop

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rancidpancakebatter · 6 months

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Picnics at Sunset - [L Lawliet]

Pairings: L (Death Note) x Female!Reader

Summary: You knew that You cared for Ryusaki very much. You knew you trusted him with your life, and you always felt better when he was around. You knew that you desired his attention and approval more than anyone else’s. You knew that he was beautiful and kind. But you didn’t know if he felt any of those things about you. You didn’t know what those things meant. Or rather, you feared what they could mean, and what that would do to the both of you.

Word Count: 14k words

Content: Swearing, Mentions of death, nudity?, friends to lovers, first kiss, Use of Celcius, touch of angst (it's death Note, come on), Sappy thoughts of love

( Masterlist )

A/N: I have so much to say, but I'll try to keep it brief. I'm sorry this is so long, but so much of this show cuts to long internal dialogues within a conversation, and I tried to capture that. I think I did well, but it is a little long-winded. I don't know if I'll do a lot of writing for this character, but he got stuck in my head recently, and this was the only way I knew to let him go.

You sat at your desk, the computer screen you had been staring at for the past three hours was beginning to hurt your head. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes; then silently cursing as you felt your mascara smear against the pads of your fingers. You needed a break and something other than a slice of cake in your stomach. You looked to your right out of habit, ready to tell your friend that you were taking a break and he should do the same, but his chair was empty.

You looked around the room.

“He stepped outside,” a voice said.

Behind you was Matsuda. You jumped when he spoke, not realising he was there, and he apologised for startling you.

“Yeah, we should get you a bell,” you suggested.

“Yeah, maybe so.” Matsuda laughed. “You know, if you want to bounce ideas off of someone, you can talk to me. I know I can’t come close to Ryusaki’s intelligence, but I’d like to think I have something to offer.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “I didn’t really need anything from him, just wanted to see what he was up to.”

“Well, I think he just needed some space to think. You know how he is.”

“That I do,” You agreed, “And I know If he wants to be alone, he’ll have no problem telling me himself.”

Matsuda laughed again, “I’m sure you’re right. But I have a feeling he won’t shoo you away. He has a soft spot for you.”

Just the idea of L turning you away had you put out. You crossed your arms, turning away with a huff. “Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

You heard Matsuda chuckling behind you, wishing you luck.

You marched up the stairs, down the hall, and got in the elevator, heading for the roof. As you made your way, you couldn’t help but admire the walls around you. The building L designed was quite impressive. You greatly enjoyed the glass elevator, preferring it over any others. Once you passed the tenth floor, the city could be seen. You were usually greeted by blinding sun and clear blue skies, but today, the sky was an enchanting apricot colour, blanketed by thick pink clouds heavy with rain. The sun was peaking from behind the silver buildings as if waiting to see you before finally saying goodbye. You waved to the people below, wishing them well on their oblivious wayfaring.

Soon you reached the top floor, and you pushed open the door to get to the roof access. The door to the roof was already opened, so you called out.

“Ryusaki! You out there?”

You were greeted by silence and tried again.

“I’m alone!”

Only then did you get a reply, “Did you bring any food?”

You chuckled, stepping out onto the roof. “No, I’m sorry.”

L stood out in the open, basking in the fading light and staring at the sky, unbothered by the cold air blowing. He was slouched over and hands firmly in his pockets. He turned his head to you, and the vibrant sky poured over his pale skin, drenching the soft canvas in the colours of monarchs and sunflowers. The light danced around his prominent eyes, flames in a ring of stone. His lips looked kissed by a dreamsicle. You looked away, finding your way back to reality.

“Did you want me to go back and get something?” You offered, throwing your thumb back towards the door.

“No,” He said, turning back to the sun, “Watari should be up soon.”

Before you could question, you heard the door open and close and the clinking sound of plates as they made their way up the stairs.

“Hello, dear,” The old man greeted with a smile.

He carried a tray with a full tea set in one hand and a wicker basket in the other, with a blanket draped across his arm. You watched as he laid it out on the ground, pulling plates and silverware from the basket along with a candelabra. Ryuga settled himself as Watari lit the candles, then gestured for you to do the same. The only clear spot to sit was right beside him, and you took it as gracefully as possible.

“I have brought sandwiches and various tea cakes,” Watari explained, “along with Keemun Mao Feng tea and honey. I hope you enjoy.”

You both thanked him and he left, closing the roof exit behind him. L sat, perching next to you, watching as you admired the display.��

“It’s all my favourites,” You observed. “Why did you ask him to bring this?”

His thumb came to rest on his lip, gauging your reaction.

“I knew you would be getting hungry soon. I told Watari to bring some acceptable food if you didn’t grab any on your way up.”

You furrowed your brows in innocent confusion, “How did you know I’d come?”

His head turned away and you notice his feet shuffling, a tell for his anxiety.

“You always do.” He said with a shrug.

Your heart thumped affectionately as he turned his head, and your gaze fell back onto the band of sterling silver in his eyes. You smiled fondly at the man, and he had to look away. He busied himself with the basket, pulling out nicely wrapped sandwiches in brown butcher paper. He read the options out for you and passed you your selections. He then reached in and pulled out a white box with a blue bow. He began to tug at it, then stopped, offering it to you.

You giggled, unravelling the satin ribbon. When he pulled off the lid, a tiered display stand stood with ten layers of tiny cakes with an array of colours, creams, and toppings. L looked over the selection with a careful eye, then chose a spongy square with a raspberry on top. He pinched it between his fingers and brought it to his lips. You watched his selection process as you braided the ribbon into a piece of your hair, presenting it to your friend with a smile. He nodded in approval, and then you finally took a bite of your sandwich, moaning as the myriad of flavours filled your senses.

“Oh my god, this is delicious,” you said, pushing it towards Ryusaki, “You’ve gotta try it.”

His chewing stops as he eyes the sandwich in front of him like it were a loaded gun.

“I’m okay.” He said politely.

You accepted his dismissal, taking another bite from your sandwich, but still curious about it.

“Why don’t you eat anything but sugar?” You asked through a mouthful of sourdough.

“Well,” Ryusaki began, “Desserts tend to be more homogeneous in texture and taste. I find most ‘real’ food reduces my deductive skills by approximately twenty-five percent.”

You looked up at the beauty of the ending day around you and breathed in the air of the city.

“Do you need your deductive skills right now?” You asked softly, eyes still trained on the sky.

Moments passed in peaceful silence. You could hear a dog barking and the mummer of the life teeming below you. People going about their everyday lives, despite the horror of this new world. You tried to join them now and then, encouraging Ryusaki to do the same– to have a life outside of, despite of Kira. From your peripherals, you saw him spread his knees apart, sitting in a cross-legged position. You watched as he continued adjusting, trying to find a comfortable position. When he settled, you turned your eyes to his.

“Would you like some tea?” You asked.

He nodded his head, and you poured him half a cup from the teapot, filling the rest with cream and sugar, just the way he liked it. He thanked you when you passed it to him, fingers brushing briefly. You could tell he was a little uncomfortable, probably much more in tune with the “loss of thought” he was experiencing than any other person would be. He held his cup in both hands, elbows resting on his knees as he looked into the wheat-coloured drink. You left L to his thoughts, knowing he would share them if he deemed them important. You instead focused on tucking the rest of your sandwich away, opening another to try. You were happy Watari cared enough to cut them into little triangles.

“What are your plans after the Kira case?”

You nearly choked on your sandwich, not expecting the question. You wiped at your mouth with a napkin, trying to grab your composure.

“I haven’t given much thought to it,” you said, “but I know it will be a bittersweet moment when we catch him.”

Ryuga sat up a little, his interest piqued as he took another sip of his tea. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” you began, “I’ve met a lot of great people by working on this investigation. I don’t imagine our paths will cross much once this is all resolved, even if we do survive. But it makes me happy to think that one day they’ll get to walk into their front doors and hug their families without the fear of them being ripped away as collateral damage.”

“Not to mention,” You continued, “at the risk of sounding selfish, this job has some really nice perks. I’m compensated well, I get free room and board, I haven’t done my own laundry in four months, and I can even get company-provided gourmet picnics on the rooftop. There’s a lot to miss.”

“I must admit, I will miss the camaraderie,” L said softly. “But I fear the fallout from Kira’s arrest more.”

You knew what he meant. If he was right, and Light and Misa were Kira and The Second Kira, then it would destroy the task force. Matsuda’s heart would shatter, as would Mogi’s, though he’d hide it better than the former. Chief Yagami would likely suffer another heart attack, or perhaps snap entirely. And while you yourself didn’t want to believe it, you couldn’t deny what you knew was true. With the proof of shinigami's existence and an otherworldly murder weapon disguised as a harmless notebook downstairs, nothing could be ruled out. You questioned what other powers came with the notebook, and how those powers transferred.

Bribing Ryuke into answering all your questions was easy enough. It turns out he had never known the taste of a Fuji apple, only enjoying the common red delicious. One was enough to get him hooked. You presented everything you had learned about ownership of the notebook, how it can be passed, and how it affects the user. You and L had come to the same conclusion: sometime in Light’s confinement, he transferred ownership, as did Misa. You knew for sure when Misa visited Light the other day in the lobby.

At the beginning of the investigation, he refused to toy with her emotions, as it went against his code. And you found it comforting, knowing Kira would have no problem doing that, and Light was immediately opposed. For months, he made no effort to show affection to Misa, rebuffing any advance or innuendo she made, but you watched as he brought her into a hug. You watched as she melted into it, savouring the sparring touch and every word he whispered into her ear. You knew he hadn’t magically fallen in love with the girl, but was using the love she had for him.

Yes, Light had changed, and the repercussions were terrifying.

Ryusaki was silent. By now, the sun had set, and the moon began climbing up a ladder of stars. The candlelight flickered, making shadows jump and jive across your friend’s face. The shifts were jarring, but the gentle lighting softened his hardened edges. Your eyes traced the slope of his nose, down his plush lips, and his long neck. You wished to stretch out a curious finger to replace your itinerant eyes.

“Would you like a cake?” Ryusaki asked, changing the subject. You allowed the distraction, deciding you would bring it up again later, but not know.

You selected one with orange filling and chocolate drizzle. It was delicious, falling apart in your fingers as you ate it. You heard a soft chuckle leave your friend's mouth and you looked up at him confused. He said nothing, instead motioning towards his face. You tilted your head, not understanding what he meant. Before you could ask, L brought a napkin to the corner of your mouth, gently rubbing it across your bottom lip.

Your heart stopped beating and your lungs stopped breathing. His touch was like the flames of the flickering candles, igniting the skin he polished. His eyes flicked up to yours and you were lost in a pool of obsidian, his pupils vast in the stary night.

“There,” he said softly, “all gone.”

You searched for your voice, and it came out in a breathy whisper, “Thanks.”

He continued, unbothered by the unprecedented physical contact while you took a sip of your tea, in hopes that would help your unsteady heart. Before you had much time to recover, He spoke again.

“My favourite colour is blue.”

You blinked dumbly, at the man as he readjusted uncomfortably.

“My favourite cake is Strawberry Vanilla Sponge Cake,” He continued, “and I sing in the shower.”

You laughed out of shock, and words continued to spill from his mouth like he couldn’t stop them.

“If I could have a superpower, I would want invisibility. I think four-leaf clovers are ridiculously overblown, but I admire their inherent whimsy. I really like The Beatles, which is very embarrassing as I am British. But even more so because I listen to ‘We Can Work It Out’ when I get frustrated. They bring me a sort of comfort. I’ve always wanted a cat. I think it’s funny when they’re given people names, or named after ridiculous things. If I had one, I’d get a tuxedo cat and name it 3,4,4,5-tetramethylcyclohexa-2,5-dien-1-one.” You open your mouth to ask what that was, but he answered it before you could, “It’s a cyclic dienone, more commonly known as penguinone, and though it has no applicable uses, it’s funny.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his sudden urge to tell you all of these things. In his unblinking eyes, you saw something close to desperation and it confused you, forcing you to look away. You missed the way Ryusaki’s face fell.

“Are you…upset?” he asked cautiously. “I’m sorry if I overshared.”

“No, no,” You reassured, trying to alleviate some of the guilt that filled your chest at his apprehension. “I’m just confused”

“I was trying to establish trust,” he explained cooly.

Your brows furrowed, “Do you think I don’t trust you?”

“No, I-” he paused, releasing a sigh that moved his shoulders.

“Ignore me,” he said sadly, “Nothing I say lately seems to make much sense.”

Your heart shattered at the uncertainty in his voice. He usually spoke with such conviction. To hear him unsure, insecure in sensibility– his intelligence, really –it made you nauseous.

“Ryusaki,” you began, but he looked away.

“Ryusaki,” you tried again, this time resting a hand on his shoulder, “your sense is still very intact. You’re not the crazy one.”

He looked at your hand, where it rested without hesitancy.

“Look,” you continued, “Someone is trying to kill you. And it could very likely be your best friend. You’re making more sense than anyone else would in your situation.”

Suddenly his eyes shot to yours. There was a small fire burning there, and you worried that you had upset him. You began to remove your hand, but he rested his on yours, keeping it pressed against his shoulder. Your heart leapt at the contact, and you prayed he didn’t notice. Though, if you knew anything about Ryusaki, he did and already tucked it away as useful information.

“Light Yagami is not my best friend.” He said simply, “You are.”

You couldn’t fight the smile that sprouted from the sentiment.

“Really?” You asked in disbelief.

“Of course, I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Your smile grew more teasing, “But you didn’t even chain yourself to me.”

L smiled too, “I didn’t have to.”

Time passed in silence. It was a bit awkward, your hand remained on his shoulder as the candles burned. You were getting chilly, the night air nipping at you through your t-shirt. L’s hand kept yours still, you were much too nervous to move it away. Especially when you could see your friend thinking very hard.

He suddenly turned toward you, removing his hand and jostling yours. His thumb came to his lip, running it across and moving the muscle.

“There are a lot of social customs that I haven’t gotten to participate in, due to my isolated childhood, and even more so because of my dangerous career,” he said, “for instance, I had never had friends until this investigation, and now I have three. But that also means I haven’t experienced a lot of the common experiences that come with friendship.”

He looked you over, trying to gauge your reaction thus far. You seemed at ease but attentive. His eyes darted to the blue streak in your hair, and felt a warmth blossoming in his chest. He was amazed by how light-hearted you could be, despite the heavy burdens you carried. You shone so brightly, he was almost embarrassed to ask you to share.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to help me with that. I think it’s important to my development, and general understanding of the human condition.”

You were delighted to hear that he was thinking about such “trivial” things. As you became closer to L, you quickly realised that he lived a very lonely life. You could tell he had convinced himself that was what he wanted, but you knew a life of work wasn’t enough, and he deserved more. You always encouraged him to take care of more than his brain; to value his body and his spirit as well.

“Of course L,” you nearly cheered, “what did you have in mind?”

You waited patiently for his response, trying your best not to shrink under his gaze. You were sure that his eyes were a large reason as to why he made such a great detective. When he focused his eyes on someone, it made them feel see-through; like he could see everything that made up that person. Like he could read your thoughts.

“Can I-“ he began, then stopped. It was rare to see him trip over his words. “I would like- would it be okay if we hugged?”

Lightning struck across the sky, and you flinched, startled by the sound. You looked up into the dark, trying to find the flash of light you knew was long gone. You spotted the thick, rolling clouds hovering above you, and you hadn’t noticed before. Then the thunder rumbled, and the cry was resonant, penetrating your bones as it rolled through you. Then slowly, rain began falling from the sky. A few drops landed on your face, and you could feel them beginning to stick to your clothes.

When your shock faded away, you looked back at your friend. He was looking at you intently, hunched over like always. You opened your mouth to respond, but L spoke before you.

“Let’s step inside,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder like you had before, “you’re shivering.”

You hadn’t realised that you were, but as you looked down at your hands, you couldn’t deny the tremble. He stood and began packing up everything on the blanket, refusing your help when you offered even though the rain had picked up. It was steady now, easily soaking through your clothes and his in turn. Once everything was tucked away, he guided you inside, opening the door for you.

As you walked down the steps, your mind spun around his words. He had asked to hug you, someone who you thought would be pretty averse to physical touch. You were surprised he let you lay a hand on him at all, and even more surprised when he reciprocated the action. It could’ve just been an experiment, a test to see how it made him feel, but you found yourself reviewing your own results.

You hadn’t really touched L before. There was no reason to. Even when he fell out of his chair over the whole “Shinigami” thing, you let the others crowd him. Your hands had maybe brushed here and there when passing sweets or documents, but intentional, prolonged contact was never made until today. You couldn’t deny his behaviour had been odd lately, though that was to be expected with the stress he was under. You wondered if he was indulging out of curiosity or a fear of missing out on life.

You jumped again as another bolt of lightning struck across the sky, followed by the soft beginnings of rain, now slowly collecting on the glass walls around you. You began walking down the hall and jerked your head to beckon Ryusaki, who seemed deep in thought. You watched the rain grow, drops colliding and running down the glass. You stopped to trace the tracks left, your body shuttering against the cold.

“I’m sorry,” your friend spoke quietly, as there was no one but you here, and no reason to raise a voice. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You looked at him with shock, but he refused to look at you.

“Ryusaki, I haven’t felt uncomfortable around you since we started this investigation. Why would that change now?” When he didn’t respond, you bumped his shoulder with yours, “Seriously though, if you ever do make me uncomfortable, I won’t let you live it down.”

“Good,” he said, nodding his head. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You both continued to stare off into the distance in silence. You began breathing out hot puffs of air and drawing in the condensation. Meaningless shapes littered the space as you got lost in your thoughts.

You felt stuck between knowing and knowing nothing. You knew that You cared for Ryusaki very much. You knew you trusted him with your life, and you always felt better when he was around. You knew that you desired his attention and approval more than anyone else’s. You knew that he was beautiful and kind. But you didn’t know if he felt any of those things about you. You didn’t know what those things meant. Or rather, you feared what they could mean, and what that would do to the both of you.

Your thoughts were interrupted once again when you felt a weight on your shoulders, and you looked down to see pale, slender hands embellished with tendons and glistening in the light. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing him appear so close behind you in your shared reflection.

“You’re still shivering.” He didn’t look at you, his eyes obscured by his shaggy hair, “A blanket should help.”

You offered a kind, timid smile in thanks, turning to face him. Your cheeks filled with blood though you couldn’t quite pin down why. Maybe it was just because he was touching you again when he’s never really done that before. Or maybe it was the fact that he was concerned about you. Or maybe it was the intimacy of it all, how close he was and how gentle his touch was.

His hallowed, all-seeing eyes met yours and you lost your breath. You wanted to look away, feeling pierced by his gaze, but you couldn’t– you wouldn’t. “If this isn’t sufficient, let me know. It’s my fault you’re cold.”

“No, it’s not,” You chuckled as he adjusted the material on your shoulder, “I walked out willingly. Yeah, you baited me into staying with food and tea, but I saw your plan, and I decided to go along with it.”

L smiled shyly, “I never could fool you.”

Your brows furrowed, and your heart sank.

“Can.” You corrected sternly. “You never can fool me.”

“Ah, Of course.” L said, removing his hands from you and tucking them back into his pockets, “You’re too observant for me to keep a secret. You’re always the first in the room to know what I’m thinking.”

He didn’t directly address his slip-up– referring to himself in the past tense as if he had died –so you didn’t either, instead filing that away under “more things to bring up later”.

“What can I say?” You teased. “Great minds think alike.”

“That they do,” he muttered, though you could tell his mind had taken him far away again.

You turned back to the window, and he joined you there. The rain had picked up, the heavy clouds drawing nearer. Your body buzzed with the electricity in the air. You could feel the winds of change surging through the city, and it filled you with determination.

“You should change,” Ryusaki whispered, “you’ll catch a cold.”

“Please,” You said, rolling your eyes and landing on his. “We were out there for less than an hour, and it never dropped below four degrees.”

“That’s still rather cold,” He hid his eyes from you, and you missed the sparks he carried there. “Not to mention the addition of rain.”

“If you’re so worried about my immune system,” you quipped, “studies show that hugs can actually help fight illness.”

That got a reaction out of the man, whipping his head to look at you.

“Is that so?” He asked, amusement teeming in his thin, grey irises. “Is it the exposure to more germs?”

“Possibly,” You admitted, “But it’s mostly the stress relief. Hugs reduce your cortisol and noradrenaline levels, improving blood pressure and general heart health. Also, with both of our body heats working together, it might help warm me up.”

L brought his thumb to his lip again, pondering your words.

“Maybe you have a point.” He muttered, “Perhaps we should test this theory.”

You agreed but neither of you moved, both too afraid to make the first move. You had hugged people before. You had hugged your family and many friends, so hugging Ryusaki shouldn’t be that nerve-racking, and yet, your body was buzzing just at the concept.

Suddenly, L Spread his arms, his figure drowning in his baggy sweater. It happened in slow motion, or at least it felt like it did. He dove towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around you, unintentionally pinning yours to your side, and his chin landed on the crown of your head gently.

You tensed, not expecting him to just go for it. Your face was pressed into his chest, your nose brushing his collarbone because of how his sweater had shifted. You were suddenly self-conscious breathing on him, trying your best to make sure your lungs were expanding and contracting naturally, but you could feel the awkwardness in your muscles.

“I don’t think this is working,” He said, his jaw moving against your head, “Your heart rate has only elevated. This seems to be…bothersome to you.”

He slowly removed himself but remained close, focusing his trying eyes on you, hands back in his pockets. “Please, tell me how you feel.”

“Well, firstly, you surprised me.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. Laughter bubbled up due to his unwavering gaze that affected you, though you didn’t want to concede to that. “And second, I’m not sure that counted as a hug. You trapped my arms, so I couldn’t reciprocate it properly.”

“I see,” He said, not showing any emotion you could detect (And you had gotten pretty good at reading L at this point). “What can I do better?”

His determination was…adorable. He was adamant about this, about hugging you better. You wouldn’t have thought this was something he ranked so highly in importance, and you felt flattered.

“Open your arms again,” You instructed, scooting closer.

He followed your orders, his head tilting to the side in curiosity. You took a quick breath, then brought your arms around his waist, then rested your ear between his pecs. There you heard his heart. You expected a steady thrum, but instead, the muscle beat like a kick drum without cause. But you supposed if you only fed your body sugar and caffeine, your heart would go crazy too.

He was also much comfier than you expected his skin and bones to be. His frame felt right in your arms, and a word flitted through your mind: safe. He was safe here in your arms, and you felt safe here too.

You remembered then that he was still standing there with his arms fully extended, like an owl stretching their wings.

“You can wrap your arms around me like before now,” You said into his chest.

He did as you said, and you felt an instant relief. Your blanket was wrapped around him, and you were surrounded by L. He was soft, like the petals of a Gardinia– like the ones your mother used to grow. He smelled like chocolate and strawberries, though with his diet, you were sure he sweated out sugar. In the refracted light the droplets cast, it looked just like that, like sugar crystals dancing across his skin.

Your nose picked up hints of lavender you recognised as the fabric softener Watari swore by. You wanted to bottle the sents and wear them yourself. You found yourself snuggling in closer, drawn in by the comforts of L.

You sighed in contentment, closing your eyes. His heartbeat stabilized, beating slower but strong. Slowly, he adjusted himself, bringing his arms tighter around you and turning so his ear rested against you and not his hewn jaw. Many moments went by like that, with nothing but the instrumental played by the rain, steady breathing, and hearts beating. As time went on, your heartbeats began to sync, beating together. You felt warmth spread throughout you at the thought. You liked this. You liked being close to Ryusaki.

“How long do these usually last?” He whispered into the rich silence.

“It depends on the friends, everyone’s comfort levels.” You replied thoughtfully. “Some people only hug for a few seconds; others hold each other like this. But it’s recommended that you get at least four hugs a day.”

He hummed, considering your answer. “I definitely haven’t been fulfilling that quota.”

“It’s okay,” You said through a laugh, “Me either.”

“Perhaps,” L said, putting on his detective voice, “If you have found this as enjoyable as I, we could do this more often– try to reach that benchmark more. The act of hugging seems to increase my oxytocin levels, which feels different than the dopamine confections give me. If it affects you the same way, I think that could be good for us both.”

Your laughter danced across this skin. “I can’t believe you can feel the difference between happy hormones.”

“Of course I can.” He said, completely unphased by your disbelief. “Dopamine feels more like I’m doing a good job, and Oxytocin is…”

You waited patiently while he found the words.

“Oxytocin makes me more…sentimental,” He landed on.

“I guess that makes sense,” You mumbled into his chest. “Weirdo.”

He chuckled at the title that would have hurt coming from anyone else.

“I would be okay with that,” You said, addressing his proposal, “If we hugged more often.”

“Great,” He said, and you could hear his smile. L could feel how the cold continued to cling to your skin. Although hugs were supposed to help fight illness, he doubted it was a cure. “We should finish up then so you can change.”

He released his hold on you and began to pull away, but without thinking, you held on tighter, your brows furrowing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I’m not sure,” you said honestly. “I just don’t want to leave this.” L brought a hand to his chin, cradling it and trying his best not to jostle you. “Is it the hug that you want, or is it me?”

Your eyes bugged at his question. Immediately, you let go, creating distance as you jumped back. You reacted as if he had struck you instead of asking a straightforward question to better understand the situation.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, not unlike a fish plucked from the water.

“Well, I- It’s uh…I mean- heh -what?” You stumbled. Again, L’s shark skin eyes bore into yours, dissecting every stutter and stammer.

“I believe the question was fairly easy to comprehend.” He said plainly, “I asked if it was the hug you wanted or me.”

You felt blood rush to your cheeks.

“I understood the question,” You weakly defended.

L’s head dropped once again to the side, his hair flopping loosely as he moved but still weighing down over his face.

“Then answer it.”

You swallowed. He had cornered you, baiting you by insinuating you weren’t as intelligent as he thought and getting you to confess that you in fact were not confused. But in truth, you were. Because it was true that you were extremely touched-starved. You had dedicated the better half of the last year to catching Kira. You hadn’t had time for much else. You weren’t exactly popular before either.

You were a criminal, a cyber-robinhood. You had stolen from several pharmaceutical companies and redistributed their funds to families in need. You thought it absolutely abhorrent that the companies could make money off of cancer and diabetes, depriving people of medicine they needed, not wanted. You had done it with your best friend, who was killed by Kira.

She had taught you the ropes and how to hide yourself from the authorities. She, however, had crossed the line. She began targeting government officials, leaking their private messages and phone records to the public. You would have thought that would align with Kira’s morals, but you guess not because she died of a heart attack in your arms. You hadn’t made a friend since, not until Ryusaki.

You didn’t want him to leave you too. You were terrified that he would be ripped away from you, much like your friend before. But it was more than that. You wanted Ryusaki to live. You wanted him to have a full life, one of joy and contentment. One where his intelligence wasn’t weaponised. One where he could let his guard down and not break his back with his posture. You wanted him to drown in hugs, to never be deprived of comfort again. And you wanted to be by his side to see it.

You had become very attached to the man before you. You admired him, respected him. You found yourself trying to be more like him in many ways. And you felt pride every time he mimicked you.

“I don’t know.”

L was unconvinced, leaning in closer, “Yes, you do. But you won’t say.”

You stared into his eyes, words eluding you. What could you say? You weren’t even sure what you wanted, what your answer would be. He looked at you curiously, awaiting your response. When you had none, he sighed.

“Fine then,” He said, turning his investigative gaze away from you. “I will escort you to your room. Hopefully, that will satisfy you.”

You had requested a room here at headquarters and were unsurprised when L told you that he had already built one for everyone on the task force. You had all but moved in during the Kira case. You hadn’t meant to, but it was just easier than taking the train alone after a late night of investigating. With no one to stop you, you would stay up until three ante merīdiem, studying and analysing trends. Sometimes you would crash at your desk, but usually, you would drag yourself away when you noticed your eyes becoming heavy. But now, your apartment was more of a formality than anything else. L knew this and made no comments on the matter. He was happy you stayed here instead, and that the rooms weren’t a complete waste of time and effort.

As you travelled through the silent halls, you brought your blanket tighter around your shoulders, tensing your jaw so your teeth didn’t chatter. Ryusaki seemed unbothered by the cold. He showed no signs of discomfort other than the way his shoulders folded forward more than they usually did. You wondered if he was just suppressing them or if he truly wasn’t cold. But then you saw a small shiver travel down his spine.

“You never told me,” you said softly, “what you were doing out there?”

His steady pace was unwavering, his bare feet gently padding across the tiled floors of the hall.

“Thinking,” He replied but offered nothing more.

“Of course you were thinking, that’s all you know to do. ” You joked, “What were you thinking about?”

He took a few more steps, then stopped. You continued forward until you were standing side by side. He stared ahead, but you turned to face him. You watched as his face remained flat, unchanged.

“I was thinking about my death,” he said plainly, continuing his previous pace. “I reviewed my mental record of my will, noting necessary amendments. Due to recent events, I felt it something I reconsider.”

Your stomach twisted at his casualness, and you looked away. How could he say that and have no feeling about it? Or rather, rationalize whatever feelings he had about the situation away?

“You-” You began, your words tripping over the lump in your throat, “you shouldn’t talk like that. You’re not going to die.”

You said it with finality, though your friend heard the subtle desperation, the fear beneath your bravado.

He stopped again, and when you turned to him, he turned as well. His eyes seemed almost hollow as he spoke.

“We all die. And I happen to find myself in a position in which I am taunting the reaper.”

L did a lot of staring, and this one you took as a personal challenge. He knew what you meant, and he was purposefully not addressing it. You weren’t backing down; you weren’t folding for him. The other members of the task force often forgot that he was human; you refused to forget. While he was smarter than anyone you had ever met, he wasn’t a supercomputer. He had hopes and dreams; he had fears.

“We’re here,” he said, interrupting this game of blink.

You hadn’t realised you had arrived at your room and hesitated at the door.

“Would you like me to step inside?” He offered.

You nodded.

“Very well then.”

He opened the door and you stepped in. He closed the door behind him, then stood a few feet into the room, scratching at his leg with his foot. You made your way to your closet, selecting a new shirt and some sweatpants, then went to your dresser, selecting new undergarments.

L looked to the wall after catching a glimpse of the lacey bra you balanced from your finger. You looked to your friend, ready to ask him to turn around, when you noticed his head already turned and a slight rosy hue crawling up his exposed neck. He was usually so devoid of colour; the splash of pink was a nice touch. You wondered what had flustered him and if it had anything to do with you. The thought made you excited, but you chose not to acknowledge that.

“I’m changing now,” You said, turning away from him.

L tried his best to keep his eyes off of you, but soon, your hands were in the air as you peeled off your shirt, and his curiosity won. His eyes traced over the exposed skin, counting the vertebrae up your back. His breath hitched slightly as you reached behind you and unlatched your bra. He caught himself imagining what it would look like if you were turned around and ripped his eyes away again. After all, you were his friend, and it was inappropriate to think such things about a friend. Especially one that trusted him enough to change in front of him. He would rather die than abuse your trust.

Soon, you were wiggling out of your pants, and his eyes betrayed him, following the movement of your hands. The cotton panties you wore were nothing special, plain and purple and a bit cheeky. It clung to the shape of your ass beautifully. His eyes bugged involuntarily, and he decided he could no longer trust himself to be facing you and turned his body.

As he faced the wall, he considered your interactions today. You had sought him out and then joined him outside despite knowing the discomfort the cold would bring you. Meaning you valued his amusement more than your comfort. You entertained his tangents and encouraged him to try new things, which meant that his general well-being must be something of importance to you. Why else would you go out of your way to protect it?

Yes, you wanted him to be happy and made that a responsibility of your own. You coached him through a new experience and reassured his insecurities about it. He had hugged you for two minutes and thirty seconds, but you had held him for two minutes and thirty-nine seconds. So you enjoyed the physical comfort, and obviously desired more, as you only stopped when he shocked you.

That’s right, you pulled away when he asked if you "wanted him." So enjoying his company was fine, but once "wanting" became a part of the equation, you rejected it. Or tried your best to. But you didn’t deny that you still desired his presence, allowing him to escort you to your room, where you took off your clothes in front of him.

When he looked at the incidents individually, it could all be chalked up to you being a good friend– one who trusted and respected him –but he was a better detective than that. He also knew to look at the big picture. In his mind, he replaced himself with other people, like puppets in a play, and saw how your reactions changed.

He found it hard to believe that you would allow someone else on the team to hold you for two minutes, lure you into the rain, or risk them seeing you in your underwear. Which begged the question, why do you treat him differently? How does your perception of him differ from the others?

Then it became abundantly clear, and he was shocked. The conclusion he came to seemed ludicrous, and yet, it was the only one that made sense-- the only one that stood with the evidence. How could this be? There was only one way to know.

He called your name and you hummed in response, putting on a new shirt and turning to face him.

“You evaded my question.” He remarked, still looking at the wall. “However, I think your evasion– and the several events surrounding it –has given me a more clear understanding of the answer you were guarding.”

You felt a general unease, not sure you liked the direction his inquisitive mind was heading. You wrung your hands anxiously in front of you, looking at the back of his head. You should have known L wouldn’t let that go.

“I told you I didn’t know.”

He turned quickly, catching you off guard. He was once again very close to you, his eyes dancing with curiosity and a bit of pride. It was a look you saw when he presented a theory based on new evidence he had finally made sense of that had previously baffled the team. You knew he was confident in whatever he had deduced and was more amused by your responses, watching carefully with a thumb pressed to his lip just a few inches away from your face.

“But I don’t think it was the complete truth,” he pressed, “which makes it a lie of omission.”

“I didn’t lie,” You quickly defended.

“But I saw it: a realisation flitting across your face. You looked at the evidence and came to a conclusion. You have some idea as to why you reacted to my question the way you did, and you have an answer. Does the answer put you in a position of vulnerability perhaps?”

You gaped at him, unsure how to respond. However, he continued to think aloud, answering your question for you with his own ramblings.

“Yes, that must be it. In answering whether you merely wanted more affection or me, it would force you to admit that you had a need that wasn’t being met. And since we had already discussed our general lack of affection in day-to-day life, revealing that you felt you wanted more hugs would not make you uncomfortable… no, it has to be me that you want. That’s the only reason you would react that way. Which makes me wonder, in what way do you want me?

“My phrasing may have impacted your response, as ‘want’ can mean different things in certain contexts. However, if you thought of me in a strictly platonic sense, you would not have assumed I meant anything more than my company. There is, of course, the possibility that previous interactions in male friendships lead you to believe I meant something else, but I think it is more likely that you interpreted it romantically because you have– on some level –romantic feelings for me. And by answering the question honestly, you would have revealed that.”

He paused for a moment before asking, “Am I right?”

Your brain was spinning, repeating every word he had said. He waited patiently as you mulled it over. You tried to disprove his theory, picking each line and defending the opposite, but it became harder and harder the longer you went on. You weren’t sure how you saw the man in front of you. He was your friend, someone you respected and cared for. You valued his opinion and you listened to his advice. But you couldn’t deny that you found him attractive. You had since you first met him.

After your friend had died, it didn’t take you long to piece together that it was Kira who killed her. You brought your theory to the police, but they didn’t take you seriously. Apparently, there had been many false reports of Kira's murders, and yours was the fifteenth report that day. You continued to argue, but you didn’t even get past the front desk. That night, when you got back home, you decided you would do everything you could to catch the killer. You broke into the police database– which was entirely too easy –then followed up with everyone they suspected. You used your skills to hack into the suspects' computers, scouring through their histories and files, but didn’t find anything incriminating. Except for one man.

He was too innocent, not even a record of porn on his computer. Most of his search results were quiz questions with brief breaks spent streaming funny videos. He was a studious pupil and the son of a cop. You consulted the police’s notes often and were surprised when they claimed it could be a student. Then soon after, the pattern of killings changed, further proving the theory.

You were convinced it was Light Yagami, but you needed more. So you tried to hack into L’s computer. You knew from the police notes of the meetings that L called in using a computer, meaning he had to have a Wi-Fi connection to talk to them in real time. It took you a while to hack the secure connection, and even longer to get into the computer. You felt defeated– outsmarted –when you realised the only thing on the device was whatever system he used for the calls and whatever connection he used for that was heavily encrypted.

You thought nothing more of the event until you were picked up off the street a few weeks later. You were grabbed and bound, the assailant immediately gagging and blindfolding you. The drive was long, and you were taken somewhere with winding hallways and cold rooms. You were restrained to a table, straps keeping you upright, and then your gag was removed.

You yelled in anger, cursing your capture and illustrating all the ways in which you would make them suffer for treating you this way. You only stopped when a robotic voice filled the room. It asked who you were, but you ignored its question, connecting the dots.

“You’re L,” You said plainly, “The renowned detective. You’ve solved every case you’ve ever taken on. And you apprehended me– confining me and taking away my vision –meaning you must think I’m Kira. You know who I am, that’s why you’ve taken me in.”

He confirmed your suspicions and listed out the crimes you had committed, and your behaviours that made him suspect you. You couldn’t deny his deductions, and instead of trying to prove your innocence, you told him about your own mission to catch Kira. You even apologised for trying to hack him as well, “but you understand, I had to try.”

He kept you tied up for a few, very long days, then let you walk around the room, giving you access to a bed and a few books. Now and then he would check in on you and offered to make amends for the misunderstanding. You only requested that he hear you out.

You told him about your theories and how you were disregarded by the police. He was the first person to tell you that he believed your friend was murdered and that it had more to do with them talking out against Kira online than the crimes they had committed. And that only angered you more.

Soon, he began to trust you. He showed you his face. He was nothing like you imagined, but everything you expected. He was odd; he looked almost sickly and was very deadpan. But he had a sense of humour, one that was just as odd as him. He was straightforward forward, and you didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking, as he often shared his thoughts. He was kind, having an obvious affinity for sweets, but always willing to share with you. He asked about you and your life, and you could tell he was cataloguing everything you had to say. He listened so intently when you spoke.

You only grew closer, looking forward to your meetings in the following weeks, and were elated when he told you about the new headquarters and how he wanted to introduce you to the rest of the team. He was impressed by your resourcefulness and intellect, but more importantly your passion. You were driven by revenge, but soon that changed. L believed in you, and you wanted to honour that.

Despite his quarks, you saw his soft underside, and it drew you in more. He was fascinating to you, alluring.

Was that normal for a friend? To simply see them and feel better, to seek out their company? Yeah, you guess it was, but you didn’t think it was as normal to think your friend is pretty. Friends don’t trace jaw lines or let their eyes linger on outstretched fingers and moving lips. Is that what you were feeling? Was your confusion and nervousness a result of an unrealised crush on your friend?

“Oh, I see,” Ryusaki mumbled, “It wasn’t an intentional lie; you only just now realised.”

You hated that he could read you as well as he could, and suddenly his proximity was suffocating. You stepped back, hiding from his gaze in your hands. It was bad enough that you had feelings for your best and only friend, but to come to that realisation in front of them –when they have the uncanny ability to practically read minds –was mortifying. You were cornered and unsure what to say. You didn’t even have time to consider what you wanted to do about your feelings before they were made known.

You could try to deny it, but you didn’t think that would work. Not against L. So you decided to look deeper. You had pieced together how your interactions proved you liked him, but how did L fare? You compared his behaviour towards you to the others. He was kinder with you, often wording things gentler to you than he would care to for anyone else. He provided confections to everyone, but he only offered you bites from his plate. He was more candid about his feelings with you, as well as his thoughts.

While he often toyed with the investigators, constantly testing their deductive reasoning and loyalty, L only asked what you thought to question his own conclusions. He valued your input more than others on the team, and you knew the task force was aware of that. if you were in the room, Ryusaki was always within arms reach. He never strayed far. He asked about your personal life, and he encouraged you to take breaks. He smiled and laughed around you, something you didn’t see in front of the others. You had seen L’s soft side, but only because he had shown it to you. He was vulnerable with you. But was that just friendship?

No, no there was more. Today, he cared for you, feeding you and treating you to a picnic. He apologised for your condition, completely disregarding his own. He did his best to atone for the wrong he felt he had done, going as far as to wrap you in his own warmth. He didn’t need to. He sought out the contact. Contact he didn’t look for elsewhere. Contacted he requested and asked for more of, in a less than graceful way. Tripping over words was out of character for the normally articulate detective.

He then stayed by your side, escorting you to your room, again, disregarding the fact that he too was cold and rained on. Furthermore, any other friend would have turned away from you while you changed, but he faced you. You remembered the blush on his face before you changed. Either the idea of you undressing or something he saw you were changing into caused that response. You had difficulty believing this came from a general lack of experience with women.

If Misa changed in front of him (which is an unavoidable event which has already happened with her room being monitored the way it is), you doubted he would have much of a reaction. Yes, you were sure. His flustered state was a result of you.

You removed your hands from your face and looked at the man of your affection. He wore a curious look, and you smiled.

“You’re not upset,” he observed, “Usually, people respond badly to my blunt deductions about their emotions. I expected you to yell or deny, but you’ve done neither.”

You chuckled lightly, “I don’t think there’s a way I could have denied that without further confirming your conclusion.”

“Well, your initial response of hiding from me was sufficient.” he said with a bit of smugness, “But I’m curious as to why you no longer feel the need to.”

“I don’t need to hide my feelings if you already know they exist,” you stated calmly, “And I’m sixty-seven percent sure you share my feelings, making them much less frightening.”

Rysuaki’s hidden eyebrows raised, and his eyes widened. You watched smugly as he said nothing, revelling in the pride of shocking even the great L.

You explained how you reached that conclusion, knowing that would be his first question. When you finished, he looked up to the ceiling, reevaluating the evidence. You watched as his careful mind picked apart your deduction and this time you allowed yourself to appreciate his unique beauty.

You traced the slope of his nose, following it down to the tendons in his neck and where his collar bones poked out from his baggy sweater. You greedily observed the way his clothes hung from his body, nearly swallowing him whole.

“It is true, I am rather fond of you. I made that more obvious than I intended, however, there’s nothing to be done about it now.” He admitted, “I can’t say I’ve ever had much of a love life or much experience with romantic feelings. I’m not sure how to proceed.”

You patted the spot next to you on the bed, and he crossed the room to join you. To your surprise, he sat with his feet on the floor, hands on his thighs.

“I think this a good place to start,” you said warmly. “We don’t have to do anything about it yet.”

He nodded but didn’t look at you. You could see the gears churning in his head, then you noticed his hands. There were impressions left in his thighs from his strong grip. Was it possible he was nervous? You couldn’t hide the delight the sight brought you. You thought it was adorable that you were something that could cause him so much grief. But you hated it too.

You placed your hand on his and he tensed slightly, but didn’t push it away.

“Hey,” you said softly, “Take a breath. Really, I don’t want you to stress over this. You have enough on your plate.”

He looked at your hand, his face level, silently assessing, and you allowed him the space to do so. His hand twitched a bit under yours before he turned it over, his palm meeting yours and his slender fingers weaving between your digits.

“What if-” he paused, as if not sure he should say what he was thinking. He took a breath as you instructed, then continued. “What if I want to do something about it?”

You couldn’t contain the smile that spread across your face, and you didn’t feel a need to.

“Then I would ask what you wanted to do.”

"It's not about what I want." He looked at you, eyes wide and panicked. “What if doing something is stupid and puts you in danger?”

You had never seen L so worked up before, and you were stunned for a moment. You realised he was letting you in, even more than before. He was letting you see his fear, something you're not sure he’s shown anyone willingly. And in this moment, you were reminded that he was just a young man. That his life had barely begun. Yet he had seen horrors you couldn’t imagine.

“If Light is Kira,” he continued, through gritted teeth. “then you are already endangered enough. But if our relationship is now romantic, he may use you to get to me. He would have no problem killing you if it brought him closer to his goal, and we both know that.”

“Ryusaki…” you tried, rubbing your thumb against the back of his cold, clammy hand. “He already knows I care for you. The others have been teasing me about my favouritism for months now. If he thought I knew anything, or that you would tell me anything, he would have already done it. If he could, he'd probably force me to write your name in the book somehow, so he didn’t have to do it himself.”

The fire in his eyes fizzled, and now he looked deflated again as if his anger was the only thing giving him the energy to fight.

“Then, I can’t tell you anything,” he concluded, “and that doesn’t make for a very strong relationship. One of secrecy where I’m forced to keep you at a distance…no that won’t do.”

He let go of your hand, looking away and rising to his feet. You felt that familiar tug in your heart, the one you felt at your desk when you realised he wasn’t beside you, the same feeling when he tried to end the hug. It felt like he was leaving you, and this time, it made you angry.

“Fuck that!” you said a little harsher than you intended. L turned to look at you in surprise; you had never raised your voice to him before (Aside from that time he arrested you and you didn’t know it was him you were cursing). “I refuse to let Kira make any decisions for me. That bastard doesn’t get to stop me from doing anything I want. And I want this, I’ll fight for it.”

You spoke with a vicious resolve, and L had to admit, it was intriguing.

“I’m done letting him ruin my life. I’m taking charge. I know there’s a way to prove it, to get him to confess. We can do it. We’ll catch that monster and frame his head on the wall.”

L was studying you; you could see it in his analytical eyes.

“‘Monster’ you say…” he wonders aloud, “There are many types of monsters; the one we face now... he’s a lying monster: He’s cunning, posing as a human, though having no understanding of the human heart. He works hard, but only to appease his own hubris. He seeks friendship even though he does not truly know how to love. I had once said, If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by them... because, in truth, I am that monster.”

He locks eyes with you, his gaze resolute.

“Tell me, honestly, how can you hate Kira and care for me? We are the same beast.” His body towered over yours, the shadows of the light obscuring his face under his hair. He was almost intimidating. “I do not fight for justice but my own amusement. How many lives have I disregarded all because I didn’t find the case challenging enough? How many people have I endangered solving this one? I allowed who I believed to be Kira intimate knowledge of the case, all because I thought it made the game more fun. I view people as disposable, just as Kira does, and manipulate them just as freely. Kira and I are cut from the very same cloth. Yet, you despise him and respect me.”

Your stare was hard and unforgiving. Rage shook your body, and L was sure that you had changed your mind. You hated him now, just as you should.

“No,” You said sternly, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but I won’t allow you to lie to me.”

You carefully lifted his chin, forcing him to hear you.

“You are flawed, yes. You certainly have an ego, but that doesn’t make you a monster. If you were presented with the power of the death note, you wouldn’t use it to make yourself a god. You don’t always fight fair, but the criminals you chase don’t either, and it would be silly to try for the high road. That is what makes you such a great detective. You do what needs to be done. But that’s not why I care about you.”

You saw a flicker of surprise on his face before he buried it once again.

“I care for you. Not L, the world’s greatest detective. I care for the man who treats me kindly and listens to my woes. I care for the man who checks in to make sure I’ve eaten and taken breaks. I care for the man who is so terrified of himself, he hides away from the world. I care for the man who was cursed with a brilliant mind and raised in a world of evil. I don’t care that you’re a genius, I’d love you dumb. I’m not interested in what you can do for me. I just want you.”

You watched as the man closed his eyes, unable to face your reverent judgment.

“You could step away right now, and I’d never think less of you. You could imprison Light, right or wrong, and I would stand by you. You could tell me that you don’t want this, and I wouldn’t fight you.” You moved your hand from his chin to rest against his cheek. “But if you bow down to Kira– admit defeat when your heart is still beating –I’ll never forgive you.”

His eyes snapped open, and he scanned your face, looking for a lie, but found one.

“We live in a world where gods of death are real,” you continued, “And that knowledge has made me realise even more that nothing in life is guaranteed. Nothing other than your own resolve. I chose life, and I wish you would choose the same.”

“You speak as if I am trying to kill myself.” he scrutinised.

“Since the arrest of Higuchi, you’ve stopped investigating," You pressed, "but we both know it’s not because you think we’ve stopped Kira. There’s still a second notebook- a second Kira. And I’m sure you’ve noticed the change in Yagami, almost as if coming in contact with the book has turned him back into Kira. I see the way he looks at you, the way he studies you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” he confirmed.

“Then why? Why have you stopped trying to catch him? If he is actively trying to catch you– to kill you –and you do nothing to stop it, you are killing yourself. You’re allowing him to win. And I can’t– no, I won’t catch him without you.”

“You wouldn’t avenge me?” He asked curiously.

“I’m here for my own selfish reasons,” you reminded him, “If you die, then everyone I have left will have been taken by Kira. What motivation would I have left to stop him?”

“I see…” he said flatly, “so if Kira is to be caught, we must both live to see it happen.”

“Yes, but more so, I would blame you for your death. Avenging you wouldn’t be possible, as you and your killer would be one and the same. I would hate you.”

His hand joined yours, guiding it away from his face and holding it at his side.

“I’m not sure I could rest knowing you hated me. Not when you’re the only person I trust and the only person I can say I’ve ever cared for– besides Watari, of course,” He said softly, “But in all honesty, I’m not sure what to make of it. I can’t control you, and I have no desire to, but allowing you to grow any closer to me is dangerous. And I would hate myself if anything happened to you.”

His fingers traced over the creases in your hand as he spoke, memorising the fate lines.

“But I can’t deny the attachment I have for you.” he continued, “It clouds my judgement, and I spend valuable time constantly correcting it. I’ve been indulging in delusions of running away with you. Taking you far away from the danger, placing you in a secure palace where you want for nothing, allowing you to lose yourself in all the simple pleasures your poetic mind can conjure. I would rather collect a list of books for your library than face Kira at the moment.”

You felt like crying, his words striking your heart. While it was easy to deduce that he favoured you over the others, such a blatant confession wasn’t something you expected. You knew this fantasy was built in his mind as something to make you happy, but you knew that this was something he wanted as well. To live a life of ease, not as a pawn to world governments. To be free to have intelligence and not be weaponised. You realised then, he was tired. He was exhausted from chasing Kira, exhausted from comparing himself to the enemy.

“Let’s get out of here then.”

He looked at you curiously.

“You can afford a break, a real one. Your mind is scattered, and you can’t possibly expect to outsmart Kira if you’re worrying about everything else.” You explained, “I’ll talk to Watari about planning a secure getaway for you but for now…”

You softly grabbed his hand and led him towards the door, “We’re going to your room so you can change. Then we’ll discuss what we’re doing for the night.”

He allowed you to lead him down the hall, saying nothing while you travelled. He only spoke again after you stepped into his room.

“I am not often surprised,” he marveled “But you continue to amaze me. I can’t predict you. You’re courageous and strong-willed, but always kind. You’re extremely brilliant, but you’re humble about it. But most amazingly, you believe in me– not because of what I’ve done, but because of who I am –and I’ve never met someone who could separate the two.”

You flush under his praise, “You say you can’t predict me, but I swear, you see right through me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with panic in his eyes, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You laughed, the sound affecting L more than he expected. He loved it, loved making you laugh. He wanted to do it as much as possible, but that was something to figure out later.

“You didn’t,” you reassured, “but I do have something you can do to make it up to me,”

L smirked, knowing you were teasing him.

“I don’t understand. I didn’t offend, but you claim I need to make amends.”

“You don’t have to. It’s completely up to you.”

“What is it you would have me do?”

You didn’t answer with words, instead spreading your arms and then making a grabby motion towards him. Your smile was soft, gently pulling at your lips.

“Yes,” he said sweetly, “I suppose we could both use a boost of oxytocin.”

He took slow steps towards you, and then all at once, his arms were around your waist. He pulled you into him, lifting you slightly off the ground, bringing your neck to his hung head. You felt goosebumps where his nose nuzzled into your skin and your heart grew wings, soaring. You held L just as tightly, indulging in his desperate touch and burying your nose into his silky hair.

“I think we should revise our previous agreement about hugs.” He said after a moment, speaking into your throat.

“What amendments would you like to make?”

“I think four hugs a day is fine, but I don’t think we should limit ourselves to that. We do need to make up for our lack of hugs in the past after all. Furthermore,” he lifted his head slowly, so as not to knock you in the nose. He would feel horrible for that. “I think we could add or substitute hugs for other forms of affection as well.”

You hummed, and he continued.

“For instance, you have held my hand twice today, and both times, I felt a similar sort of comfort from the action. In fact, I’ve noticed any skin-to-skin contact with you eases me. Your hand on my face proved that. I tested this theory twice. Once, before our confessions, on the blanket. I placed my hand on the one you had placed on my shoulder. Then again, in your room, by simply touching your hand, tracing your palm instead of holding it. Both yielded similar results.”

You smiled at him fondly, your hands reaching up to play with his hair. As your nails skated across his scalp in lazy circles, his eyes fluttered a bit, his lids resting heavier.

“So you would like to add hand-holding? I’m fine with that.”

Your sweet voice flooded his mind, and your hands liberated his composure.

“Either you’re completely clueless to the effect you have on me,” he whispered, “Or you revel in it. And I’m not sure which is more terrifying.”

Your heart skipped a beat, which startled L for a moment, but then he realised it was because of an emotional response and not an attack from Kira.

“I wonder the same about you.”

L was unfamiliar with the look in your eyes. Your pupils were dilated, and your irises sparkled in the light. He’s never been looked at like that before. Your face looked brighter, and your body language (while restricted in your current position in his arms) was relaxed; open. And suddenly, he was entranced by your lips. You were talking, and he studied the muscles as they moved, unable to focus on anything else. He felt the urge to kiss you, and this shocked him. He forced himself to pay attention to your words.

“...besides you have all the power really. I know what I want, but if you don’t want me there’s nothing I can do about it. I could never kill you, but even if Kira forced my hand, I don’t know your name. And you’re the only one on the team who knows mine. Whether I like it or not, my heart is in your hands.”

“I would never hurt you,” he quickly defended, almost offended.

“I know,” you said simply, “That’s why I trust your hands.”

Your gaze was unwavering, your stance absolute. The emotions L tried to contain began stirring restlessly. He no longer felt like he had a hold on them. A hurricane of feelings he couldn’t quite name tore through his chest, and he didn’t know what else to do but act. He surged forward, pressing his lips to yours. It was awkward and brief, as neither of you puckered your lips, just touched them together. He kept his watchful eyes wide as he did so, gauging your response.

“Was that a kiss?” You finally asked once your silent shock was replaced by a highly amused smile.

A small frown overtook L’s face. “I fear if you had to ask…”

His sentence trailed off as he sat you back down on the ground. Then turned to walk to his closet. His was much larger than yours (which was ironic given he wore the same clothes for days straight), and you assumed he elected to change there when he closed the door. Now that he was out of sight, you allowed your excitement to show, jumping up and down and shaking your hands.

He had kissed you, almost. It was obvious that he didn't have the experience, but your heart swelled at the thought that he wanted those experiences with you. And he did kiss you, he held you in his arms, for no other reason than to hold you close.

You tried your best to calm down, but your bright smile would fool no one. Instead, you tried to focus your attention elsewhere, calling Watari. He had given you his number (or a number) months ago. He told you it was because he saw that you cared for his son and that his son trusted you. He also confessed that he was rather fond of you too. He wanted to see you make it out of this investigation.

He answered almost immediately.

“Hello, Ms Ogawa,” He was always careful to use your alias, even if he knew you were alone. “I notice that you’re calling from within headquarters, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I was calling because I convinced Ryusaki to take some time off. I need you to plan a trip for him, no shorter than a week but something that’s easily extendable.”

The old man chuckled on the other end of the line.

“You convinced him to take a break? I didn’t think anyone was capable; I wonder how you managed.” He seemed amused, implying he knew something through his old man wisdom.

“I’m not entirely certain I did,” L emerged from the closet, looking nearly identical, just less soggy. You smiled at him as he made his way towards you. “But I’ll be very cross with him if he doesn’t. I think he knows that.”

The man you spoke of raised a single eyebrow as if to say, “Oh really?”

You made a similar face that left no room for argument.

“I see,” Watari continued, “Shall I book this trip for one or two?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at the question. You didn’t know how to answer. You didn’t have to though as L decided then to grab the phone from your hand, pinching it awkwardly between his fingers.

“Two,” he replied on your behalf. “We’ll also need a cover so that the others don’t know we’re together.”

“Understood. How soon would you like to leave?”

L returned the phone to you, trusting your decision.

“We’ll leave tomorrow. We have plans for tonight, and I’d like to rest beforehand.”

“That’s very wise, Ms Ogawa. I’ll send over the itinerary soon.”

“Thank you, Watari.”

You hung up, placing your phone back in your pocket. When you looked up, L’s hand was extended, offering you a sweater.

“If you intend to go out,” he explained, “You’ll need a sweater.”

You took it gratefully, and he turned his head again, giving you space to change. When you finished pulling the shirt over your head, he looked up and felt like he had swallowed his tongue. He never anticipated that seeing you in his clothes would affect him this way. He was truly smitten by you, and that was something he could no longer deny.

“Ready?” You asked, disrupting his train of thought.

He nodded, and you offered him your hand. A small smile spread across his face as he took it. He trusted your hands too, he realised.

You reached the garage, selecting an inconspicuous sedan for your ventures. L moved to open the door when you stopped him.

“Wait!” Your heart was in your throat, but you closed your eyes and forced out the words. “My favourite flowers are poppies. I think it’s cool how versatile they are. The moon absolutely amazes me. I understand how its gravitational pull affects our tides, but I still can’t wrap my mind around it. I also really like The Smiths, which raises conflicting feelings in me because I hate Morrison as a person, but man, if he isn’t great as crying into a microphone.”

You heard a soft chuckle and felt a hand reach out to hold your bicep. You took a deep breath, continuing with Ryusaki’s encouragement.

“I prefer a good milkshake over any other dessert. I think time travel is probably the coolest superpower, but I think it’s too great a power that I wouldn’t trust myself with it. I like cats, but I’ve always wanted a pet raccoon. I don’t think I could get one, morally, but they just look so cute. If I had one, I would love that little guy so much. I would give him a really pretentious name; find a way to grant him Lordship.”

You opened your eyes slowly to see Ryusaki smiling, his thumb tracing circles on your arm. His eyes darted around your face, twinkling in city lights. His heart pounded harder with every word you uttered. Romance was never something he prioritised in his life, it wasn’t something he ever saw happening. Most people were put off by him, and it wasn’t often that he actually met people in his work. He could have lived the rest of his life hiding behind a computer screen, an imperceivable entity known only to one man. But now, he would give anything to stand in the sun with you while you look at him the way you do now. Affection and amnesty dripping from your gaze.

“I’d like to try and kiss you again,” he said timidly. “If you’d show me how.”

Your smile split your face, feeling overjoyed by his words. Each move you made, he mirrored, hands on cheeks and bodies touching as he matched your steps forward. You jumped up on your tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Ryusaki’s eyes widened comically, and a hand rose to his lips as if he’d find your kiss there. But soon, his shock dissipated, replaced by a look of hunger.

This time, he led, dropping a hand to your waist to hold you close and using his other to lift your chin. He moved in so slowly, and your body thrummed with the anticipation of contact. He stopped, his lips barely grazing yours, and you couldn’t hide your desperate tremble when you felt his soft breath against your own. He pressed his puckered lips against yours, and you took no time reciprocating.

You brought a hand to the back of his neck, guiding him and pulling him closer. You felt like you were flying, your heart beating its feathered wings against your ribcage. You pulled your lips away just to bring them back, and you could feel his confidence growing as he tilted his head and his grip on your waist grew tighter. You began moving your lips against his, testing the waters. The rhythm was awkward at first, but he caught it soon enough.

His chest was rising and falling quickly against you, and he brought his hands up to hold your face. You lost yourself in his touch, in the way he clung to you. You were being consumed and felt no dire to run from it. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and you gasped.

Your eyelids flutter as your brain caught up to what was happening around you. Ryusaki was no longer kissing you but carefully cataloguing the look on your face in his mind. He was reviewing everything he did and how you reacted to it. He had decided that he loved kissing you, and he wanted you to love it too. He wanted love to be something you associated with him, especially now that he knew his brain was making a similar connection. He knew it was probably too soon to say something like that, but he could wait. He would wait forever if he had to. He had the brightest star in the sky in his palms, and he didn’t intend to let this shooting star fall from his grasp.

You were seeing sides of L that you never thought you would, ones you never thought to look for. He held you like a precious stone, something sacred. He looked at you like you were a wonder to behold, the eighth wonder of the world. It made it hard to breathe, suffocated by his silent adoration.

“So, where are we going this evening?” He asked from high above.

“I don’t know,” you said breathlessly, “but we have all of Tokyo, I’m sure we’ll find something.”

He loved this look on you. The joy in your eyes, the lack of stress in your muscles. Your glee was infectious, and he didn’t mind it.

“As long as you’re by my side, I think anything would do.”

He testingly laid a kiss on your forehead as he said it, and you felt like you would melt to the floor in a pile of goo. You removed a hand from his neck, resting it on his, and were delighted when he instantly intertwined your fingers.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, Ryu-”

“Lawliet,” He interjected. You tilt your head, confused, and L does his best not to swoon as you rest your head in his hand on your cheek. “My name is Lawliet.”

You break out into a blinding grin, and Lawiet knows then that smile was the sunlight he was meant to bask in. Those were the rays that would light his darkest nights. The beams that would guide him through the intricate maze of life.

He had found all he needed. A friend who listens to his grief and grievances. One who cares enough to try and understand his mind and soothe it at the same time. Not for her own convenience, but for his betterment; never pushing the boundary of discomfort but bringing thrill to the change. He found a fresh pair of eyes, for when his get dull and tired, to show him the artistry outside of the ghastly monstrosities he and the world bathed in. A person brave enough to show up, even on the bad days. The whole world could fit in his palms when he held you like this.

“I’m not going anywhere, Lawliet.” you corrected.

L smiled, squeezing your hands three times. You returned the sentiment with a kiss to the hand you held in your own.

Tag List: @barbecuetiddy, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @purple-amaranthe, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @supernerdycookietrashblrr, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

I hope you enjoyed the read! Like I said, I don't think I'll do much writing for L, but I really enjoyed this. I hope even if you don't have as much love for this character as I do, you can still get something out of it :))

#rancid writes #death note #death note fanfiction #death note l #death note imagines #death note l lawliet #death note fluff #fluff #l lawliet #l death note #l x reader #l lawliet x reader #death note characters #friends to lovers

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mrs-kodzuken · 28 days

Note

Hii there!! I have an idea about a scenario where haikyuu boys would get flustered when their fem!crush is being a gentleman to them. I think having oikawa, iwa and akaashi would be interesting. Have fun!

She’s the gentleman ♡

Pairing: Keiji Akaashi x fem!reader

WC: 1.6k

Genre: fluff

CW: fem!reader, reader is more of a gentleman than akaashi is (surprisingly), fluff, friends-to-lovers, short and sweet, reader is very proper in words, the crush reader has is hinted at which gives it a friends to lovers theme

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"No, yeah, I completely understand if you would want to cancel our session." I responded over the phone to Keiji Akaashi. He was my study date partner today since we have different methods of learning for our huge exam on the following Monday.

"Would you like to wait it out to see how it is?" His response came to me through the mobile device, not giving credit to his soft spoken voice.

"That would be lovely. I really appreciate it, Akaashi." I glanced down at my pristine loafers, per school dress code, as I waited for the conversation to finish.

"Great. Is meeting by the entrance gates fine for you?"

"Yes. We'll walk together to The Manor Mocha and then study there. I'll see you then. Goodbye Akaashi." I finished my sentence then hung up the phone call.

I shifted my eye focus towards the sky only to see that the clouds rolling in did not seem to be leaving anytime soon. Thankfully, The Manor Mocha was only less than five minutes away from our school's campus—which was Fukurodani.

As I walked patiently to class, I could not help but to notice every student around me had been awfully over prepared for this weather or extremely under prepared.

As guaranteed, my best friend, Kotaro Bokuto, was significantly under prepared.

"Good morning, Bokuto. The weather does not look compatible with what you're wearing." I stated, as I glanced him up and down. His outfit was completely fine, but it lacked any outer wear and I didn't see his golden an umbrella anywhere.

"Morning, (Y/n)! I think I'll be fine! The sun will come back out and I won't have the need for an umbrella." He smiled, wholeheartedly believing in that.

"If you say so Bokuto, I'll be heading to class now. I want to make sure to let the teacher know about this weather and if we have any school drills we have to do because of it. Give my 'hello' to Akaashi when he arrives." I said to him before walking off and continuing my route to the classroom.

Even though Bokuto and I were best friends, in accordance to him, I found that he and Akaashi seemed more of best friends. However, the difference between them both is very profound in every way.

Akaashi is only a second-year but he is already able to take such higher courses that us third-years take which is why we're having a study date in the first place.

As I made my way to my morning classroom, I noticed the teacher was not around so I just made my way to my seat. It was by the window on the left side of the classroom, my favorite.

I peered out at the weather, silently hoping that it wouldn't rain because that would only cause such an inconvenience for my plans I made for later. However, my study session will go on regardless of what the weather is like.

Students began to file into the classroom soon after and then the lesson began right after our teacher called attendance. I loved taking notes into my spiral notebooks, it helped me a lot during study sessions and that helped with the making of flash cards.

Soon, the school day flew past and it was already almost time for school to be over. However, my hope got dampened as I heard the sharp clap of thunder and soon the ground began splotching into darker colors. The reason being that, unfortunately, it began to rain.

I had come prepared, of course. I always kept a spare umbrella in my locker just in case a scenario like this happened. I wasn't too sure if Akaashi had brought one though.

When the school bell rung, an announcement came out as well. It was mostly about the weather and how safety is a priority when leaving campus.

Soon, I gathered myself and prepared to face the weather as my classmates bustled about. The chatter and excitement of the weekend was heard throughout the halls as I made my steady way to my locker.

Being polite, on time, and organized was one of my virtues that I treasured deeply. It was what made me who I am, which is why I had a spare umbrella. After changing my loafers into my regular shoes, I grabbed my black and white polka-dotted umbrella.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my blazer pocket. Reaching in to grab it, I saw the message from Akaashi when my phone screen lit up.

'I'm waiting by the gates'

I responded with, 'Okay. I'll be there in just a minute.'

After confirming that he was still okay with our study session, I opened my umbrella as I stepped outside of school and immediately felt the strong winds, which whipped my hair against my face.

I squinted as I saw Akaashi standing by the entrance gate, however, what shocked me to my core what that he was almost completely soaked. He had made some make-shift umbrella out of his blazer and shoulder bag.

"Oh gosh! Are you alright? We best hurry so you don't end up sick." I rushed out, seeing him up close was worse. His hair seemed to be dry but there was only so much of himself that the make shift umbrella could keep dry.

"I'm fine, just a bit cold from the rain." He gave me a half smile and I shared my umbrella with him as we hurried along to The Manor Mocha.

By the time we were there, I'm pretty sure Akaashi was almost, if not completely, drenched. I quickly opened the door for him, which rang a small bell throughout the café.

Akaashi seemed almost shocked that I opened the café door for him, but I didn't show the curiosity on my face as I closed my umbrella and followed suit behind him.

I gathered us a dining table just in case we decided to stay as late for dinner. I assumed Akaashi went to the bathroom to try and dry off as best as possible. As I waited and arranged my laptop, notebook, pens, and sticky tabs together. I thought about cancelling the session if the wet clothes were too much of a burden to him.

"Hi, what can I get you started with?" A waitress with brown hair tied back into a low bun came up to my table. She pulled out her notepad from her apron pocket as well as a pen.

"Good afternoon, I'd like an ice vanilla latte with almond milk please." I politely ordered to her.

"Anything else, hun?"

"I do have a date, however, I am unsure of what he favors so please just add an order of mini cinnamon muffins please. Thank you so much." I smiled up at her, getting one in return.

As soon as she left, Akaashi came back out of the bathrooms.

"Akaashi, I am so sorry that your clothes got dampened. Would you feel better about canceling or continuing?" I asked him as I got up out of my seat when he sat down.

"It's fine, no worries. I don't mind continuing because I do need to memorize these functions for the exam." He lightly laughed, which reassured me.

"Great," I stood up and got behind his chair to push him in then sat back down, "I've already set all of my things out, so just let me know when you're ready." I smiled at him, happy to be studying.

"(Y/n), I have a question abo-" Akaashi was cut short of his sentence when the waitress came back with my iced latte as well as the muffins.

"Thank you so much. Akaashi, would you like to order anything?" I asked, as the waitress stood, waiting for a response as well.

"Just a black coffee with creamer please." And then, like before, the was off with the order and I turned back to Akaashi.

"What were you saying before she arrived? You have a question?" I asked him, grabbing a mini cinnamon muffin.

"Yes, why do you treat me the way you do?" His soft eyes peered at me, a twinge of pink coating his fare skin.

"Oh, what do you mean?" I asked him, very confused by the question.

"Well, it's just that you held the umbrella, opened the door for me, and pushed in my chair. Those are all things that I didn't expect you would do. It kind of flustered me a bit." He laughed nervously.

"Oh! That's just how I am. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable?" I asked, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere of our study date.

"No, you're fine. If I may ask, for our next date, please let me open the doors for you and be the gentleman. I would like to return the favor." He looked away for a second, then focusing back onto me.

Was he asking me on a date?

"Of course! This will be a date, not just a study date, correct?"

"Yes, it will be." I could see his ears slightly turning to a nice shade of pink which was so cute. It's a good look on him.

"Great, oh, look! The sky is clearing up a bit!" I pointed out, sitting by the window always did have its perks.

"It sure is, which means that I can walk you home once we're finished, if that's okay." He asked me honestly.

"I would love that Akaashi." And soon after that conversation was over we started on our study session as planned. I couldn't push away the feeling of butterflies in my stomach when Akaashi had asked me out.

Staying true to his word, when the date was over, he walked me home.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: I excluded Iwaizumi and Oikawa only because I felt like this fic would have been too repetitive, however, I will be in the making of fics for them both soon! I hope you enjoy nonetheless anon!!

you all know my header rules, if not see pinned post!!

#kodzu fics #kodzu writing #kodzu indulges!#kodzu girl blogging #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq x you #akaashi x reader #hq akaashi #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi fluff

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choke-me-joey · 1 year

Text

Matching Tattoos Part II

Read Part I here

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smutty smutty smut smut, just porn with a little bit of plot, oral (f receiving), squirting, unprotected sex (kinda), creampie, these two are adorable as fuck, less tattoos more fuckin', fluffy throughout, idiots in love, (will format later cos on a phone it's a pain in the ass)

It had been a week since the tattoo incident. And the blowjob incident. And the whole "You get to keep me" thing.

And both you and Eddie were on Cloud 9.

It was impossible to miss, not only because you were all over each other, but even when you were across the room from each other, you couldn't stop sneaking glances and smiles.

"God, you're both gross." Robin groans, rolling her eyes as you lean over the counter of the video store to smile at Eddie as he browses the horror section waiting for you to finish your shift the following Friday night. Steve yanks you back by the waist of your jeans.

"Agreed. Can you stop making googly eyes at your boyfriend for 5 minutes, Y/N? The rom com section needs reorganising." He grumbles, sitting down and stuffing a Twizzler in his mouth.

"And you can't do it because...?" You snip, folding your arms over your chest and looking him up and down.

He gestures to himself as if to say "duh!" and you kick his chair.

"Oh come on Steve, it's her big night tonight, let the girl relax a little." smirks Robin and you glance at her, wide eyed, making short choppy motions over your neck in an attempt get her to shut the fuck up.

"Seriously?! Jeez, I thought you and Munson were already banging, didn't know you were waiting. What's the special occasion?" Steve asks through a mouthful of candy. Robin scoffs and shoves him.

"It's a Friday night and Eddie's uncle is working a double tonight meaning we can be uninterrupted." You shrug. "Not all of us bang on the first date, Steve."

"No, some of us just suck di-"

"What's up Harrington, Buckley?" Eddie grins, meandering over to the counter with a few tapes in his hands. He grins at you, placing the tapes down onto the counter. "Hey, babe."

"Babe?!" Robin and Steve audibly gag as you and Eddie share a simple, sweet kiss. Without breaking the kiss, you flip your friends off.

"So gross." complains Steve as you and Eddie break apart, grinning like fools. "Do you have to rub your new perfect relationship in the faces of the painfully single?"

"What's the matter, Harrington? Jealous that the freak of Hawkins has a smokin' hot babe and you don't?" Eddie teases. "Don't worry, big boy, we'll hook you up with someone."

"Fuck off." Steve grumbles. He looks at you. "You know your shift doesn't end for another 3 hours, and the rom com section still needs reorganising."

"Ugh fine, let me check Eddie out first." You huff, turning to your stupidly handsome boyfriend.

"Didn't you do that enough whilst I was perusing, babe?" He smirks.

"Not enough if you ask me." You deliberately run your eyes over him slowly, biting your lip.

"Fuck, I can't wait for tonight." Eddie groans to you quietly, reaching for your hand and squeezing it.

"Me neither." You whisper, squeezing back. You shuffle through the tapes. "Did you pick out some decent movies we won't be watching?"

"Only the best babe, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw, A Nightmare on Elm Street and The Thing. Classics that I know you've seen so you won't be too mad about missing parts."

"You're the best." You grin, pecking his lips again before proceeding to check him out. In the professional sense.

And a little bit more in the non-professional sense.

"Thanks, sweetheart. I'll pick you up at 7, okay?"

"Sounds perfect, stud."

7pm rolls around and you can't clock out quick enough, barely garbling out a goodbye to Steve and Robin.

"Use protection!" Robin calls, and you flip her off before you're out the door and diving into Eddie's van.

Your boyfriend chuckles at your eagerness as he leans over the console to kiss you.

"There's my pretty baby, how was the rest of your shift?"

"Excruciating, agony, torture."

"Sounds like a good time." Eddie grins, pulling out of the strip mall parking lot and beginning the 10 minute drive to his trailer. His hand leaves the gearstick and finds your thigh, resting on it. "I missed you, sweetheart."

"I missed you too," you smile, squeezing his hand. "Get up to anything good whilst I was gone?"

"You'll see," Eddie smirks, linking his fingers through yours and bringing your hair to his lips and kissing it.

When you pull up to the trailer, Eddie insists on opening your door for you, helping you out of the van and even holding the trailer door open with a little bow and a "m'lady". You laugh, curtseying and replying "kind sir" before stepping into the trailer.

You stop in your tracks. The trailer is the cleanest you'd ever seen it in all the years of knowing Eddie and his uncle. There isn't an ash tray, beer bottle or empty coffee cup to be seen. On the counter there's a small bunch of flowers in a mason jar full of water - you noted that they looked extremely similar to the wildflowers you'd been admiring on yours and Eddie's 'special smoking walk' you'd taken last weekend. And instead of the usual 'Munson' scent that hits you, you get a waft of...crisp apple?

"Eddie did you...did you light a candle? Did you buy a candle??"

"I may have." Eddie leans against the cabinets with his arms folded across his chest, smiling. "Had to make an effort for you, princess."

"You absolutely did not, but I'm appreciative nonetheless. Does the cleanliness extend to your bedroom, or...?"

"Already wanting to take this to the bedroom, huh?" He smirks, letting you drag him by the hand down the small hallway. You open his bedroom door, gasping at the sight in front of you. Eddie stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder as you take it all in.

Eddie's room was SPOTLESS. Every single piece of clothing was picked up off the floor and in the laundry hamper, the tops of his dressers and bedside table were immaculate, the bedsheets were...Holy shit, they were new. And he actually had two pillows laid out instead of one deformed lump in the middle of his bed. And an actual comforter.

"Holy shit." You breathe out a laugh of disbelief, and Eddie chuckles into your shoulder, peppering kisses over it and up your neck to your cheek. "You have been busy."

"Wanted to make tonight special." Eddie mumbles against your skin, making you hum softly.

"You didn't need to, babe. I'd fuck you in the back of your van parked up on the side of the road. I don't care where we are as long as we're together."

Eddie's eyes widen. "We are going to have to explore that at a later time. For now though..." he spins you around in his arms and walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit his bed, causing you to fall down. He kicks the door shut behind him and presses play on his tape deck, Home Sweet Home by Motley Crüe starting up.

You sit on the bed giggling as Eddie begins to serenade you along with Vince Neil.

"...take me to your heart, feel me in your bones, just one more night, and I'm coming off this long and winding road" Eddie croons, slowly walking over to you and standing in front of you. "I'm on my way, I'm on my way, home sweet home, tonight- woah!"

You interrupt him by pulling him by his belt loops closer to you, he loses his balance and falls on top of you, both of you laughing like idiots. Eddie pushes himself up onto his arms, smiling down at you.

"What?" You smile, feeling a blush creep over your cheeks. He reaches and brushes some hair away from your face.

"Nothing, you're just...really fucking beautiful." He says softly. You pout at how cute he is, reaching up to kiss his lips.

"So are you." You reply, and he scoffs playfully. "Eddie?"

"Hmm?"

"Kiss me."

He does, kissing you slowly and deep. You moan as his tongue finds its way into your mouth, revelling in the taste of him. The kisses get deeper, wetter, nastier and your bodies start to grind against one another as you paw at each other.

"What-what about the movies?" Eddie pants into your mouth as you tug at the hem of his shirt, trying to get it off.

"Fuck the movies, seen 'em before anyway." You tug harder at this shirt. "Off."

"Yes ma'am." Eddie chuckles, sitting up and stripping off his shirt. Yours quickly follows, as well as both of your jeans, leaving you in your underwear. You bite your lip at the sight of Eddie's cock straining against his plaid boxers. You both scooch further up the bed, Eddie lying you down on the new, plump pillows, before laying his body against yours once more, his mouth finding yours again.

You rock your hips experimentally against his, the thin material of your underwear and his not doing much to dull the sensation. Eddie moans loudly into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sound, his moans were something you'd missed since last weekend, but had definitely replayed in your head when you'd fucked yourself with your fingers throughout the week.

"Easy, princess, you keep doing that and I'm gonna need a breather." Eddie mumbles, trailing his lips over your jaw and neck, sucking gently on your collarbone. "Besides..." he pings your bra strap. "I'm dyin' to get this off you."

You laugh, unclasping your bra and allowing your breasts to spill free.

Eddie curses, his eyes going straight to your tits. He cups them in his hands, thumbs ghosting over your nipples.

"Hello, ladies." He mumbles and your laugh is quickly replaced by a gasp as Eddie leans down and licks over your nipple, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You whine, the flicks of his tongue sending spikes of arousal straight to your cunt. "Fuck, your tits are perfect." Eddie breathes against your skin, leaving a damp trail across your chest as he moves to the other one, rolling your neglected nipple between his fingers. He gives you a little pinch, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Eddie, please!" You whimper, desperately trying to grind your clothed pussy against his cock, needing any sort of friction to ease the ache between your legs.

"Ah, ah, ah, baby, calm down. I'll take care of you, okay? Just enjoying myself right now. And I know you are too, can feel you soaking through those pretty little panties already." You make another pathetic whining noise. "I didn't peg you for a whiner, baby, it's pretty hot how desperate you are for me right now. Makes a change from all that sass you normally give me."

"Eddie, I swear to God-"

Eddie cups your pussy over your underwear, making you promptly shut up. He smirks, teasing you by gently running his fingers over your covered slit.

"Oh, baby, these panties are definitely ruined now. Guess I'll just have to keep them. You're soaked...is this all for me?"

"All for you, Eds," you gasp as he ghosts over your swollen clit. Your hips buck. "Please, Eddie, hurts."

"Aw, it hurts? Well, I can't have my baby in pain, now can I? Especially not after she did such a good job of taking care of me last weekend." Eddie practically rips off your underwear, his eyes travelling over your fully naked body for the first time. "Holy shit, baby...you're blowing my mind with how sexy you are. Hiding this body from me...should be a federal crime." He kisses you again, soft and sweet, then moves downward, pecking at your neck, shoulders, collarbones, inbetween your breasts and down onto your stomach. He chuckles as he kisses around your still healing tattoo. "Nice ink, toots."

"Thanks, some DnD nerd gave it to m-E!" Your sarky response quickly turns into a high pitched moan as Eddie nips your inner thigh.

"Some DnD nerd, huh? Would it be the same DnD nerd who's currently looking at the prettiest fucking pussy he's ever seen? Look at her baby, she's fucking drooling for me. Wonder if she tastes as sweet as she looks?"

Your hands ball into fists, twisting the comforter in your grip as Eddie licks a fat strip from your hole to your clit, leaving a trail of spit as he goes. You look down at the same second as he looks up at you, his eyes practically black with lust. The sight of him between your legs, your juices on his mouth is almost enough to send you over the edge as it is. Eddie grins at you again. "Even sweeter than she looks, baby."

You collapse back onto the pillows as Eddie dives face first into your pussy, tongue flicking and licking at your clit as he eats you like a man starved. He moans into you as you cry out his name, one of your hands reaching for his hair.

Without moving his mouth from your clit, he flicks his eyes up to you, holding up two of his fingers to your mouth. You open your mouth, sucking on his fingers as if they were his dick, hollowing out your cheeks and getting them as wet as possible (not that you needed any more lubrication, Eddie just had a thing for any part of him in your mouth). Once he's satisfied that you have them as wet as possible, he removes them from your mouth and wastes no time pushing them inside your aching cunt.

Your back arches upwards as you gasp out his name, his thick fingers filling you and his skilled tongue on your sensitive bundle of nerves making your eyes roll back in your skull. When he crooks his fingers up and strokes over that spongy spot on your walls, your thighs clamp around his head and he smirks against you, knowing he's definitely found the right spot.

"Eddie, fuck, don't stop, gunna make me cum," you whine. He sucks on your clit, his eyes on you and he strokes and strokes - "Oh my god, Eddie! Yes, baby, I'm cumming!"

A string of expletives leaves your lips, along with his name in a shriek as you cream on his face, your thighs shaking. He doesn't relent, finger fucking you through your orgasm and when you try to pull away when things become too sensitive, his other free hand pins your hips down to the bed. You're moaning uncontrollably, almost weeping with pleasure, the stimulation too much. "Eddie, I cant-"

His head suddenly pulls away from you and your hips try to chase his mouth. "You want me to fuck you?"

"W-what?" You ask, breathless and still a bit dumb from how hard your previous orgasm had hit you. "Y-yes, I want you to fuck me-"

"Then give me another." Eddie spanks your clit, making you squeal. "I know you've got one in there for me princess, cum again for me and I'll fuck you, okay?"

"Okay, okay," you sob, nodding. You almost choke as Eddie attaches his lips back to your clit and his fingers start fucking you again. The rate at which your orgasm builds up again is alarming; it's different. "Eddie, wait, wait, wait-"

He does anything but wait, in fact he pushes his fingers against your spot harder, and moves his tongue quicker. You feel it hit you, a white hot wave of pleasure and you definitely feel something shoot out of you. Eddie groans loudly, the lewd squelching noises filling the room as your body shakes.

You squirted. You fucking squirted. Something you'd only ever seen on those nasty pornos that Harrington lent Eddie from time to time. Something you didn't think you could actually do. And Eddie made you do it.

Eddie slows his movements down, removing his fingers from your twitching cunt and sucking them clean. His chin and neck are drenched with you and it's the sexiest thing you've ever seen.

"Still with me, angel?" He asks softly, pulling himself up over you again. You notice the wet patch on the front of his boxers has doubled in size since he went down on you.

"Where the fuck did you learn that?!" You manage to gasp out and Eddie chuckles.

"Natural talent baby. And Harrington's pornos he sneaks home from the video store. Not just for jerking off to, ya know, there's some educational shit in there too."

"Ugh, forget I asked." You mumble in disgust. Eddie laughs, but soon stops when you palm the front of his boxers, squeezing his cock. "I want this now, please, you promised."

"I did, didn't I baby?" Eddie reaches over into his bedside drawer for the box of rubbers he had in there. You slap his hand away and he looks at you in confusion.

"No condom, wanna feel you, Eds."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that to me." Eddie groans. "You're on the pill, right?"

"No, Eddie, I'm willing to risk pregnancy to satisfy a breeding kink." You quip, rolling your eyes.

"You're lucky I love you so damn much, baby. Wouldn't let just anyone talk back to me like you do." Eddie mock huffs, shutting his drawer. You freeze. He then realises what he's said, and screws his eyes shut, dropping his head down. "Shit."

"You...love me?" You whisper, unable to stop the stupid grin spreading across your face. Eddie buries his face into your neck, groaning in embarrassment. "Eddie." You place your hands either side of his flushed face and make him look at you. "I love you too."

He opens his eyes and looks at you, his face softening.

"You do?"

"So damn much." You echo his words from seconds earlier. He grins, kissing you hard. You both manage to peel off his boxers and he grinds his cock against your wet pussy lips, teasingly dipping the head into your hole and pulling out. "Eddieee..."

"Say it again." He whispers against your lips, taking a hold of himself and lining his cock up with your hole.

"I love you." You whisper. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He replies, pushing his cock into you slowly. The stretch makes you shiver; he's definitely thicker and longer than anyone you'd ever been with. "Fuck, sweetheart, you're so...so fucking tight."

"Mm, Eddie, s'big," you mewl beneath him, nails biting into his shoulder blades.

"I know angel, but you're taking me so well. God, you look perfect right now."

You kiss him in response, moaning against him as he eventually bottoms out, his thick mushroom head already prodding your cervix. He starts to move slowly, pulling away from your mouth to look deep into your eyes. "So fucking beautiful."

"You too."

Eddie starts to move quicker, never taking his eyes from yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper and the new angle making you cry out his name. This only spurs him on, his cock delving deeper and deeper into your pussy, the bed beginning to rock back and forth with his movements. Your moans fill the small room, along with Eddie's grunts and whispered praises to you.

"S'fucking good, baby, your pussy is fucking heaven, my beautiful baby, I love you, I love you."

"Eddie, I'm gonna cum again," you breathe out; his pelvis dragging over your clit had started building up another mind blowing orgasm.

"Yeah? Do it baby, wanna feel you cum for me, right on my cock, yeah?" Eddie's short of breath now, you can tell he's holding off his own orgasm just to feel yours first. "Oh shit, sweetheart, please, you're so fucking tight, gonna make me cum-"

"Cum with me, Eddie, fill me up-"

"Christ, I'm gonna cum, fuck, fuck-"

Eddie pushes his cock in to the hilt just as the coil in your belly snaps and you cum around him, both of you groaning out each other's names. His cock twitching inside you and the feel of his hot load filling you makes you sob in pleasure. He finds your mouth with his own, staying inside you for as long as he can, neither one of you wanting to break the connection just yet.

Eventually, his cock slips from you and you both let out mournful sighs. He rolls off of you, onto his back next to you.

"Holy shit." He pants, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. "Holy fucking shit. Baby...that was-"

"The best sex you've ever had?" You grin, a teasing lilt to your voice. "Me too."

"Shit, yeah, you've ruined me for other women now." Eddie grins as you both roll on to your sides, looking at each other. You giggle, your fingers ghosting over the nearly healed tattoo on his hip.

"Baby, I've left my mark on you, no way other women are having you now."

He mimics you, gently touching the bat inked onto your skin.

"Guess matching tattoos were a good idea then."

Taglist for those who wanted a part 2:

@certain-tragedies @teary-eyed-egg @lulukings92 @elyssa-writes @spear-bearing-bi-witch @littlestarfighter03 @ooo-protean-ooo @wintermunsonreads @witchofhawkins @johntuckermustdie

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 1 year

Text

Little Blue Bird (Choi San)

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

Tags: Sailor!San x afab reader, mentions of war, death, cheating (kinda not really you'll see) heartbreak, a little bit of Seonghwa x reader, parental loss, marriage, sentimentality, long lost family/friend/lover

Smut tags: Dom San! Kissing, praise, fingering, San’s a little possessive, table sex, body worship, scratching, overwhelmed tears and that’s pretty much it

Word Count: 7414

Taglist: @w0nuuu @brown88

The wind whipped through your hair and the fields surrounding you, making the grass rustle gently. It was warm, comforting, much a like a well-needed hug on a bad day. Looking up, you could count the amount of clouds in the sky one hand. It was a beautiful day and the field was your favorite place to be on beautiful days.

Your dress blew in the wind, making you laugh before feeling the push of two hands, slightly bigger than your own on your back. "You're it!" His voice was loud but his laughter even louder as you looked at him in surprise. "Choi San!" You yelled back, tearing through the field after him. The dirt shifted underneath your feet as you ran, warm cheeks from smiling now heating even more. These were the moments a 12 year old would take for granted.

"You're so slow." San said, slowing down in his tracks as he noticed you couldn't keep up. Your mom always referred to him as a kitten, especially when he smiled and for the first time you could see it. "No, you're too fast." You pouted while you caught your breath, slowly sinking to the ground to lay down in the grass.

"Mother and father have been really stressed lately. Talking about the war." He laid down next to you, staring up at the nearly cloudless sky. "Mine too, my parents have been thinking about moving us away." You mentioned, frowing at the thought of leaving your best friend. "If you leave, we'll leave too! I'll talk to mother about it tonight!" He was loyal, just like a cat and it made you laugh, wind carrying the happy sounds over the hills.

San had been your best friend since you could remember, having been neighbors for your entire lives. Your fathers had grown up as neighbors and friends, it was only natural that their children did the same. You two raised hell for your parents constantly. Always getting into trouble but that didn't matter, you were getting into trouble together.

You pushed yourself off of the ground, dusting your skirts off and taking a deep breath. San beamed up at you, eyes sparkling in the bright sunlight. "Tag, you're it!" You tapped him, running away as fast you could as he laughed in disbelief.

Despite there barely have been a cloud in the sky that day, a storm tore through the town during the night. It must have been a parallel to the soldiers coming through the town, breaking apart the families within it.

The yelling was what woke you up, your wooden home not doing much for the isolating of sounds. Tossing the blankets from your body, you ran outside and your bare feet sank into the mud. The rain was heavy but you could still see the group 5 soldiers and some of their horses stood directly between your house and Choi San's.

"He's only twelve!" You heard as you ran into the commotion. "Y/n!" Your mother yelled holding you back, against her chest. "What's going on?" You asked, receiving no response as you watched Choi San struggling in the arms of a soldier. "Twelve is old enough to hold a sword." The soldier commented, not noticing much of the boy's struggle. Your heart dropped, noticing both your father and his saying goodbye to your mothers.

"Wait, what's going on?" You asked again, breaking free from your mother's hold and running to San. His arm was stretched out to yours and your fingers nearly touched before you were pushed to the ground, mud coating your back and hands. You were going to get up only for your mother and San's to hold you away. San's father grabbed him and pat his back in reassurance, though no one was feeling quite at peace. Your father stood behind them, smiling with his mouth but not his eyes. This wasn't good and no one was telling you why.

Your mothers wept, San cried and you were left watching in confusion as to why no one was stopping this. It was clear no one was happy in this situation, why couldn't they stop? It was all just unfair and you couldn't understand why it was happening, or just what this all meant. You didn't realise that this was the last time you would probably see them.

It took you a few years of maturing to fully grasp it all. That your fathers and San had been taken to fight in a war they had nothing to do with. Your town was left an empty shell of what it was, older men, women and children under 8 being the only things left behind trying to pick up the pieces.

When the war ended, the men slowly started trickling back to their homes. All changed in some way or another, emotionally or physically, some both. It was all never the same, especially since your father never came back. The more and more men came back, he never was in the crowd. San's father however, was. You couldn't quite grasp the pain Mrs. Choi felt seeing her husband there and her son nowhere in sight when you were 16, but as time went on you could feel it in her empty smile.

It wasn't fair, but war wasn't fair and neither was life. That was the lesson your mother had taught you and what had stayed with you even now, 10 years after everyone left.

Shooting up in your bed, you tried to steady your breathing. Placing a hand over your chest after wiping the sweat from your brow. 10 years later you were still having nightmares, while they might have gotten less frequent over the years, they were still there and they were still oh so real. Self-soothing had become something you were all too familiar with, your mother having passed a year ago and leaving you to comfort yourself in these moments.

You pushed out of bed and slowly walked to the water basin, splashing your face to wake you up a bit more. The mirror infront of you showing the exhaustion on your face but you shook it off. Running a brush through your hair before changing out of your nightgown and making your way outside of your family home.It was a nice day, almost no clouds in the sky as you made your way over to the Choi's.

"Goodmorning Y/N." Mrs. Choi smiled, kissing your forehead sweetly and patting your back. It had become custom that you ate breakfast there every morning after your mother passed. Mrs. Choi always wanted the best for you, caring for you as if you were her own. "Breakfast smells good." You commented, the steam coming from the rice being a welcoming sight at the table. Mr. Choi was already seated, smiling at you and taking your hand as you sat.

"That Seonghwa boy has been asking about you all morning." He remarked, your cheeks warming up at the mention of the name. "You have that boy under your spell." He added on and as you opened your mouth to respond, a bowl of soup was placed in front of you. "Of course she does. Look at her, sweetest and prettiest bird in all the village." Mrs. Choi interupted, tilting your chin up to look at her.

Before your mother passed, she introduced Seonghwa to you. Claiming that if you waited any longer with finding a good man it would be impossible to find one at all. While you didn't quite agree with the statement, Seonghwa was kind, gentle and patient. One of the few younger men to come back from the war seemingly unscathed. He was caring, handsome and while all of these things were positive, you couldn't quite bring yourself to love him. Younger you would never have let this go on this long, but your mother liked him and that meant something.

"Seonghwa is kind." You remarked, smile fading slightly. You meant the words, but nothing more. "She doesn't see him in that way." Mr. Choi could always pick up on your tones. "Oh of course she does, he's such a handsome man and seems to care for her." You looked to the ground, ignoring the words only for Mrs. Choi's eyes to be trained on you. "Naturally, we all would have liked to see this differently." She started, hand coming to cup your cheek once more. "Seonghwa is a very nice man, one many would like to have." She paused again, looking to the sky and blinking away the tears that had rapidly formed. "Even though I always thought you would be my daughter in-law."

The words hit you like bricks, knocking the air from your lungs for a moment. It was true, Seonghwa had been taking all the proper steps to starting the engagement process. You hadn't thought that Mrs. Choi had thought this far ahead.

"That's enough dear." Mr. Choi gently grabbed his wife's hand and you nodded to him with thanks. "I'm sorry. I just want to see you happy and taken care of." She nodded and you took a bite of the meal she prepared for you. "I will be, I promise." You told her, reminding yourself that this was what your mother wanted as well. With Mrs. Choi's blessing, you knew it was the right thing to do.

"I'm off to the market!" You called into the Choi's home after breakfast, your basket in hand. "Alright dear. If they have any of that makgeolli bread at the bakers could you buy some? I don't quite feel like making it." She asked and you laughed, nodding your head. "Alright, I will." You smiled and Mr. Choi cleared his throat. "Can you see if they have those sweet treats again too, she doesn't need to know about that?" His voice was low, out of reach for his wife and you had to stifle a laugh. "I'll check." You promised, leaning down and kissing his cheek before making your way to the seaside market.

Mr. and Mrs. Choi were always your example of love. They were so beautifully in love, even when he wasn't there. While there were emotional gaps left behind by San and trauma that needed to be worked through together, they did it and it was beautiful to see. It was all you wanted, even at this age sneaking in treats from each other.

"Looks like we're going to be docked here for a few weeks." Wooyoung said, leaning over the railing of the ship and looking over the small town. "Can't we go a few more towns over?" San whined at the thought, looking to his best friend. "You're the first sailor I've known to not be excited to be in their hometown." Wooyoung said in return and San grimaced. How could he be excited, he hadn't been back in 10 years and he was entirely sure everyone he loved was gone. No one wants to come home to that. "There's a chance they're not gone." Wooyoung was trying to be comforting, San knew that but there was an ache in his chest at the thought.

All he wanted those 10 years, was his family. They hardly even let him and his father hug before being seperated into units for the war. He hadn't seen him since, he didn't know if he was alive. Had his mother died of heartache or illness over the years? Were you still happy and were you married with your first children? Did you stick around in the same old town for all those years? He wanted to know, but he was scared.

"I think it would hurt more to not know at all." Wooyoung added and San closed his eyes, applying some pressure to his temples with his finger tips. He knew this day would come, he just didn't think it was so soon and while some would argue 10 years is a long time, when you're scared 10 years is very short.

Walking through the market, San saw some familiar faces. Ones that undoubtedly didn't recognize him anymore. The butcher, a man who used to scare San when he was 12, was there and practically looked the same aside from the nasty scar on his cheek. It was without a doubt from the war, making San grimace once more.

Any time he was reminded of the war it seemed like the scars on his own body started to burn and sting, just like when he got them. He knew it was the case for the crew of the trade ship he was on, considering he had met them all on the battlefield. It was one of the men's dreams to have a trade ship when it was all over and well it was the best thing 16 year old San could see for himself. Not knowing whether he'd have a home to go to and opting for a chosen family rather than none at all. He had no intentions of coming back, but fate had other plans and so did the reef that tore a hole in the bottom of the ship.

"You want me to go with you?" Wooyoung asked as San looked to the path leading away from the market's center and to the more rural village. "No." He paused, chest aching for a moment. "No, I have to do this alone." Wooyoung nodded in understanding. "I'll be in the tavern if you need me." He replied and watching his friend slowly walk to his childhood home.

He was getting an overwhelming sense of deja vu, like he was 12 years old and chasing you after causing trouble in the market. The closer he got to his childhood home he could swear he could hear his mother calling him inside for dinner and his father's laughter at the sight of him covered in dirt or mud. San blinked back tears, seeing the path to the small stone fence around the yard. It all hadn't changed.

The sailor stopped dead in his tracks, heart pounding in his ears and hands sweating. He truly hadn't anticipated seeing his mother leave the house, holding wet clothes and hanging them over the line outside. Such a mundane action, one that he had missed dearly and it nearly had him falling to the ground.

"Mom?" His voice cracked, not loud enough for anyone to hear other than himself. "Mom?" He cried a little louder this time, causing her to turn and look around. San started walking faster without realising it, through the gate and into the front yard. "Mom?" Tears rolled from his eyes, looking at the beautiful woman who raised him. She was frozen, not sure whether to yell or cry, fall to her knees or embrace the boy calling her "mom".

"San?!" She couldn't keep her emotions in. The expression on San's face reminding her of the times he had cried in her arm as a young boy. It was a dead give away of his identity. "What's wrong, dear?" San's father asked, rushing to the door at the sound of his wife's cry. It took him simply spotting San to run to him, wrapping his arms around the son he hadn't seen for 10 years. His mother joined and San cried, not even being able to hug in return.

His emotions had taken over him, leaving him an absolute mess as his mother doted over him. Pinching his cheeks, kissing his forehead, running her hands through his hair, San could do nothing but sit and quietly cry. "You're all grown up." She cried softly, part of her heart aching that she had missed it all. "You're so handsome." She looked into San's eyes, taking note of the emotions swimming around in the dark pools. San's father clasped his son's shoulder, needing to touch him to even believe he was real.

"There you are." Seonghwa's voice was sweet, gently taking your full basket from your arms. "Been looking for you this morning." He added on and you smiled at him. "Sorry, had some errands to run. Mr. Choi wanted some sweets from the bakery." You happily recalled his request, giggling at the thought of the man eating his treats in secret. "Ah, I see." Seonghwa looked at you, taking in your face.

He had liked you since he had come back from the war, appreciating the fact that you had a good head on your shoulders. He liked that you cared for those around you despite having lost so much yourself. You were strong and he knew he wasn't the only man to see that, meaning he proposed the moment he felt it was right. Seonghwa knew you well enough to know you couldn't accept right away and that was why he liked you.

"Are you alright, you seem tired?" Seonghwa asked, gently grabbing your hand to stop you from walking further into the village. "I'm alright, simply tired is all. I've been having nightmares." You admitted, considering that you were going to accept his proposal you felt he needed to know these things. You continued walking, your house and the Choi's drawing nearer with each step.

"Nightmares, I can see the local shaman and ask if he has anything to remedy that." Seonghwa said and you shook your head instinctively. Your nightmares were the only place where you could see your father and San, while they weren't pleasant you didn't want to lose them. "No, that's alright. I- I've learned that few sleepless nights are alright." You told him, extending your hand to cup his cheek. The action was foreign to you, figuring that you needed to start doing these things as well.

"I've been thinking." You started, watching Seonghwa's eyes widen slightly. "About your proposal... I- I- accep-" "Y/N!" Your words were cut off, making you raise your eyebrows. "Who is that?" Seonghwa asked, mild tone of anger to his voice as this special moment was being ruined by a stranger. You turned around, looking towards the source of that voice and found your heart racing as if diving into ice cold water.

That smile was one you could recognise anywhere, not to mention the dimples. His eyes however, they'd grown sad and weary, the sparkle you so clearly remembered being faint at most. His shoulder's were broad, blouse stretching over the expanse of his chest tucking into pants that showed his slender waist. Choi San was alive, standing in front of you and smiling like it was an everyday occurance.

Seonghwa had been forgotten, together with your proposal acceptance and basket of groceries as you ran to San. Not needing to think twice about it as tears streamed down your face. The man's hands found your waist, lifting you as if you weighed nothing while wrapping your arms around his neck. "You're alive." You sobbed into his neck, feeling a weight of emotions lift from your shoulders at the mere sight of him. "You're alive." You repeated softer, feeling your feet touch the ground once more and San's hands moving to your face.

"I'm alive." He reassured, wiping your tears from your face with him thumbs. While the sight of his parents left him frozen in time, turning him into a child needing to be held, the sight of you (which he had assumed would do the same) had a different effect. The sight of you made his chest burn, as if the sun had decided to focus all of it's energy on him and him alone.

You had grown up beautifully, your eyes and lips being just as stunning as they were all those years ago and your hair wild from the wind blowing it around. San wasn't seeing you through the eyes of a child, he was looking at you like a man and he was desperately hoping the man behind you wasn't your husband.

"How?-" "Y/N, who is this?" Seonghwa asked, placing a hand on the small of your back. "This is San, my- he-." You stuttered, still in shock with tears rolling down your cheeks. Seonghwa admittedly felt threatened, not having ever seen such an emotional reaction from you quite like this... not even when he proposed...not even as you were accepting the proposal. "Nice to meet you. I'm Seonghwa, Y/N's fiancé." He extended his hand to the stranger.

San felt his smile drop, feeling a wave of jealousy surge through his body even though he knew he didn't have the right. It was San's choice not to come back, even if it did come from a place of fear. It was his choice and in this moment, seeing his family and you, he was deeply regretting it.

"Fiance..." San repeated softly, looking at you and your weak smile. The words didn't sound good to your ears, even though no ten minutes ago you had made the choice to go through with it. However that was before you knew he was back. Pushing the feelings aside, San hugged you again and ignored the daggers being stared at him by your fiance. "I'm so happy for you." He said softly, low enough for only you to hear as his hand came up to stroke your hair.

The same night you found yourself alone in your house, staring up at the ceiling. You had a million questions, for yourself... for San. You just couldn't quite bring yourself to ask them, at least not yet. No, San needed the peace and that's why you were in your home alone. His family deserved to spend the night with him and him alone, to know what he's been doing all this time. You would have your time with him soon enough and that time came quicker than expected.

In the early morning, the sun was just coming up and Choi San was out in the field that he used to play in all the time. Staring up at the early morning sky, he laid in the grass and listened to the wind and the approaching footsteps behind him.

"You're out and about early." You remarked, taking a seat next to him in the grass. "Alot of things to think about." San said in return, watching your every move with a gentle eyes. You had grown up, stunningly in his opinion. Your soft eyes, smooth skin and sweet lips coupled with your beautifulfigure, he was angry he hadn't returned sooner. He wanted to be yours.

"I can imagine." You said softly, wondering if you should bring up the lingering thoughts in your mind. "I couldn't sleep either." You spoke further, toying with the fabric of your skirt. "Not happy to see me?" San jested, receiving a light smack to his chest in response. Some things didn't change. "What's on your mind?" San asked once his laughter subsided and propped himself up onto his elbows. You hesitated to speak, looking at his face before taking a breath. Drawing up bad memories was the last thing you wanted, but you had to know.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about what happened to my father?" You asked, watching his expression grow serious. "I'm sorry... I saw him the last time I saw my father. I don't know." San told you, thoguhts going back to that day and needing to shake the thoughts from his mind. "It's okay. I'm sorry for asking. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or things harder." You rambled, burrying your face in your hands for a moment. San shook his head, completely understanding the desire to know. You didn't need to feel bad at all.

His hands found yours and pulled them away from your face. He hadn't seen you for years, any inch of you that he could drink in, he would. "Don't hide, it's alright." San's voice was soft as he hovered over you, your heart rate rising quickly at the sight of him above you. "I'm alright, I have my family back and another family that takes care of me now. It's all alright for me." He added on, hands softly stroking your cheeks. He was more worried about you, not having quite understood the toll war took on the people who didn't fight. You had lost almost everything, yet you were still here.

"You've gotten so handsome." You didn't entirely mean for the words to come out, it was more a passing thought you had while fighting back tears. A grin pulled over his lips, the cheekiest expression radiating on his face. "My mother was definitely right about you last night. You're the most beautiful little bird in all of the town." You felt your heart shatter at the compliment, having heard it from his mother so many times but never quite believing it, at least not until now. "Can't believe I was a day too late." San added, face dipping down to yours a little more as his hands gently pressed yours into the grass around your head. The position was ridiculously compromising, making you glad that it was too early for anyone to see it.

"A day too late?" You questioned, tone of voice breathy and music to San's ears. "If I was a day earlier, you wouldn't be engaged." His voice shook and you gently moved away from him. For a split second, you had entirely forgotten about Seonghwa and the fact that you had accepted his proposal. A wave of guilt took over you and you looked to the ground. In the few hours San had returned, your heart fluttered more than in the months with Seonghwa and it wasn't fair to him.

"You don't love him, do you?" He asked, reaching out and holding your hand once more. "I can learn to. He's kind and caring." You responded as you felt the sudden need to defend your choices. "That's what mom said as well, he's reliable." San shook his head. "Very reliable. He's handsome too." While the man wasn't what you entirely had wanted, you couldn't deny the appeal. You just couldn't understand why it didn't appeal to you.

In the moments you were thinking about it all, San moved his way closer to you again. He was back now, you didn't have to marry this Seonghwa... you could marry him instead. His face was infront of yours, close enough for you to feel his breath fanning over your lips. "But you don't love him now." He reitterated, fingers slowly moving up your arm to cup your cheek. "Tell me, if had come back together with my father, would you still be marrying him?" He asked, making your eyes dart up to meet his. "I, I need to go." You stuttered, pushing off the ground and walking away as fast as you could.

The image of the way he grabbed your hands, pressing them down into the ground as he hovered over you was burned into your mind the rest of the day, together with his intrusive questions. If San had come back earlier, you would not have been with Seongha now, no matter what state San had returned in.

"You haven't been around much, since he came back." Mrs. Choi remarked, as you sat at the table to help her prepare dinner. You hesitated before responding, not even knowing what to say. "You can tell me you know, I still see you as my daughter." She placed her utensils down, grabbing your hands to stop you from working as well. Something had been eating away at you and it was clear. "Talk to me." She pleaded and you found yourself looking away from her eyes.

"I feel guilty. I don't love Seonghwa, seeing San made that clear." You confessed, bursting out into tears. San had been back for a week and while you avoided his advances, you didn't want to. "I've waited this long with getting engaged because in the back of my head, I couldn't see myself with anyone else and then the second I do, he comes back." You ranted throwing your frustrations back. "I'm angry at San." You looked around the yard, trying to find anything to focus on instead of Mrs. Choi's face. "I'm angry at the war." You wiped away the tears, all of these emotions coming out that you kept bottled up ever since your mother passed. "I'm angry at myself."

Mrs. Choi hugged you, in the way only a mother could. Stroking your hair and whispering softly to you. "I pushed you too hard. I hoped that by moving on you would feel better. We had no way of knowing he would come back." You held her, feeling at ease that she wasn't upset with you. "Seonghwa should understand." She finished, gently tapping away the tears from your face. "You're far too pretty to be this sad all the time. You've taken great care of us for so long and we've been managing. Now we have our son back and you're sadder than ever." She moved to brush the stray hairs from your face. "We want you to be happy."

Her words were playing in your mind as you stood by the water basin, scrubbing some of the pots you had left to soak through out the day. The next day, you would end it with Seonghwa. He was a reasonable man, surely he would be understanding.

"You know I meant it when I called you beautiful earlier." San's voice startled you, making you turn to see him standing in the door way. "I hope you don't mind. I let myself in." He smiled, walking towards the table in your kitchen and sitting down on the chair. "You look especially pretty like this." He remarked and you stifled a laugh. "What, doing dishes?" You asked, drying off your hands and moving to stand in front of him.

He leaned back in the chair, legs spread slightly with one hand resting on his thigh with the other on the table. The white blouse stretched slightly over his chest and shoulders, showcasing his physique and you found yourself biting your lip.

"Yes, that too." He smiled, standing up in front of you. "I just mean, all these years... I imagined what you looked like now, whether you had got married, had kids." San circled around you, his hand coming from behind to wrap around your waist and pull you flush against his chest. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he moved your hair to the side. "Well none of those things have happened. I'm just engaged." Your breath hitched, his lips on the now free side of your neck and lightly kissing the skin. Your hand reached behind you and gripped the fabric of his shirt. You whimpered feeling his teeth graze over your neck, making sure to leave a small mark. Marking you as his.

"You don't have to be." He whispered, lips by your ear and hands on your waist. His hands slowly moved up your torso, gently graze your breast through your shirt. San knew he might have been pushing his luck, that there was a chance you would push him away but there was nothing stronger than his feelings. San was headstrong, it was what kept him alive all these years and he was sure of what he wanted, he wanted you in any way he could have you. "At least not to him." His hand came up to your chin, turning your head for you to look at him. You had a moment of realisation as to what he meant before his lips came crashing down onto yours.

You turned into him, hand not letting go of his shirt and only pulling him closer to you. He was warm and inviting, his body against yours making you feel the safest you had ever felt and you wanted more. San's hands both gripped at your waist, tugging the fabric from your top out of the waist band of your skirt before lifting you onto your dining room table. His fingers found their way under your top, rough hands touching your smooth skin.

"You're so soft... so beautiful." San smiled against your lips, pecking them before moving them down to the side of your jaw. You gripped the fabric of his shirt harder and leaned back to give him more access to your neck. "Oh-" You choked out, feeling the way his pant covered bulge pressed against your core. His lips now at the base of your neck and the edge of your shirt. "Can I take this off?" He asked, tugging at the fabric of your shirt. "Please." Your voice was low, breathy and you sounded absolutely wrecked.

San pulled the shirt off of you and tossed it to the side, grabbing your thighs to pull you closer to him. "Uh-uh." You tutted, pulling at his own shirt to help him get it off first. He smiled down at you, undoing the laces of his shirt before tugging it over his head and throwing it to the ground.

His body was lean yet chiseled, your fingertips dancing over the muscles and small scars that littered his body. Your pointer finger traced over a particularly large one, his hand coming up to stop you and pull you flush against him.

"I'll tell you about it later." He mumbled, using his other hand to trace over your face and down your neck. Bunching your long skirt up at your hips to feel the skin of your thighs. Gripping you so hard you were almost sure there would be bruises the next day. You felt his finger tips on the edge of your panties, watching as your eyes fluttered shut at the touch.

His touches were gentle at first, index finger circling over your clothed clit before roughly pulling the fabric down your legs. Your nails dug into his shoulders in shock at his actions before his fingers found their way to your slit again, spreading the arousal around before curling two fingers into you.

Your body slumped forward and he pressed his lips against your forehead pressing into the crook of his neck. Your nails dug into his forearm as his finger pumped into you, thumb swiping over your clit. "San, San please." You whimpered, the pleasure being overwhelming and mind numbing. San could feel his own knees getting weak at the mere sound of you begging, moaning his name. "That's it beautiful-" He cooed, feeling your walls tighten around his fingers. You raised your head again, San's other hand holding your jaw lightly as you let out soft mewls with each pump of fingers.

Tears welled in your eyes at the intensity of your orgasm, making your body nearly lose it's strength as you cried out. He held you up, wiping your tears from your face with a soft smile.

The sun had long gone down, casting a blue light over your kitchen and skin through the windows. Your half bare bodies seemingly glowing as he gently muttered sweet words, allowing your body to recover from it's previous orgasm. However you felt needier than ever, wanting him to feel as good as you, wanting him inside of you. You didn't want to be treated like glass anymore, the feeling in your gut was need.

Your fingers undid the closure of his pants hastily, not needing anymore coddling. "We don't have to rush." San furrowed his brow, he needed you too there was no doubt in that but he wanted you to be comfortable. "I need you." You whimpered, undoing the closure and tugging the fabric down to expose the v line more and more. "I need you to touch me." You looked up at him, filled with desperation for more. "I need more." You whined, watching the cogs turn behind his eyes. You didn't need him to be soft anymore, there was plenty of time for that later, you wanted him now, you were touch starved.

"He's never had the pleasure of doing this, has he?" San asked, finally ridding you of the fabric of your skirt and leaving you fully bare. "No." You admitted, watching as he tugged his pants down and stepped out of them. He needed you just as bad, cock red and angry against his lower stomach. "He missed out." San's eyes ran over your every curve, taking in every mark and detail about you. Your legs were slightly spread as you sat on top of the table, smiling at him and inviting him to you.

San grabbed your hips, touches a lot rougher due to need and dragged you closer to the edge of the table. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, tensing slightly as his cock glided over your folds before thrusting into you fully. The stretch made you mewl, lips by San's ear as he hugged your waist. He used this as an advantage, moving your body to meet his thrusts.

"Oh-" You whimpered as his cock dragged against your walls, holding onto him a little harder each time he fucked into you. "Lean back for me." He said and you abided, placing your hands on the table and giving him full view of your body. San gripped your hips harder, pace picking up as his lips found your nipple. It all felt so good, the way you squeezed around him and just the way you looked.

"San-" You called out, feeling your second orgasm bubbling up San could feel himself getting close, hand moving from your hips to draw circles over your clit. "Can you tell me you're mine?" San asked, hooded eyes locking with yours as he teetered on the edge. You were his, from this moment on, it wasn't an absurd request. "I'm yours." You choked out, feeling yourself clamp down on him as you came. "I'll be yours forever." You breathed, legs trembling as he stilled inside of you. His head hung slightly and you could feel him cumming inside of you, cock twitching as he groaned through it.

His hands were on either side of your body, head still hanging and level with your chest as you reached up to stroked his hair. You could hear him chuckle at your touches before kissing the valley between your breasts, smiling after each kiss.

San was absolutely spent, between the emotional rollercoaster of the last few days and the sex, he was exhausted physically and emotionally. However he still found the energy to lift you off of the table and bring you to your bedroom, fingers tickling your skin and making you laugh all of the way. There was a sense of relaxation you found with San, one you had only ever felt with him. Years had gone by but that feeling hadn't gone away. It might have changed, but it didn't leave.

"Where did that one come from?" You asked, finger tips tracing over one of the scars on his chest. The sheets of your bed had been messed up and your legs were aching pleasantly as you chatted softly. "Not that interesting of a story." He smiled grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. "One of my crewmates, Wooyoung was fishing and not paying attention. Launched the damn hook right into me, the idiot." He laughed at the memory, it was amusing now. "He'd love you. The crew is at the docks, you should come and meet them." San turned to you, your hand still in his. "I'd love that." You told him, squeezing his hand gently.

"Now it's your turn, where'd you get this scar from?" He laughed, pointing to the small scar on your palm that you got from cooking. You hadn't laughed this much in a long time.

San was surprised to still find you deeply asleep the next morning, looking at you adoration as he resisted the urge to stroke your hair. He absolutely did not want to wake you simply because you looked so peaceful. From what he understood from his mother, peaceful moments seemed far and few between for you. So he pushed himself out of your bed and to your kitched to quickly get dressed.

"What are you doing in Y/N's house so early?" His mother questioned, the smell of breakfast wafting through the wind. His father didn't need an answer to draw conclusions, looking at his son's messed up hair and clothes from the previous day. It was obvious to him and it made him hold back a laugh. "I spent the night." San admitted, knowing how his mother thought about you. If anything she would be overjoyed.

"Oh!" She clapped her hands together, not being able to contain her smile. "Can I steal some breakfast to bring to her?" San asked, taking in the smell of the food. While he would have loved to cook for you, that talent was lost on him. His mother rushed around and placed bowls on a wooden tray, rice, soup, sidedishes and anything else she knew you enjoyed. She was absolutely over the moon and if she could cook you both a feast, she would.

The smell of food woke you from your deep sleep, making you sit up in bed as you watched San wander into your bedroom. "What's all of this? You should've woken me up. I could have helped her cook." You said, moving to get up and ready for the day. "No, no. It's okay. Sit back down." He said, placing the tray on your bed. "My mom set all of this up." He was greatfull to you in many ways, knowing that his parents not only took care of you but that you also took care of them in his absence. You deserved the rest as well.

"I'm going to talk to him today, to Seonghwa." You told San as you sipped your soup. San smiled at that, knowing that it meant he could tell everyone else. "I want to marry you." He remarked, not being able to contain it anymore. He wanted to talk about his fantasy a little more. "I want to grow old with you, run through that field of tall grass for the next 50 years with you." His sudden confession made you laugh, covering your cheeks that were heating up. He had always been passionate. "Only the next 50 years? I was thinking longer." You told him jokingly, placing your empty bowl back on the tray. He shook his head with a grin, leaning over and grabbing your jaw. Making you look at him, San's eyes were shining. "How about for the rest of time? 'Till the end of my days, 'till I breath my last breath?" He asked, words making your stomach fill with warmth. "Better?" He asked, stroking your cheek. "Much better." You responded and connected your lips for the first time that day.

Seonghwa's expression was unreadable as you stood in front of him. You felt guilty, with the lovebites San left behind on your neck uncovered, not having had the dress to cover it.

"Are you angry?" You asked, even though it was a stupid question. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but for some reason I think I'll be okay." He remarked, truly he was too good of a man. He couldn't even get upset with you for being in love with someone else. Seonghwa's eyes scanned over your face, it was a small detail he noticed on you that he hadn't ever seen before and it told him enough. He could see the small smile lines in your face and a sparkle in your eyes, one that hadn't been there before.

"It's just such a shame. You're so much more beautiful when you're happy and I never knew because you never were until now." He shook his head, looking at the ground. This was the right choice and he knew that, he could never make you as happy and he knew that... even if it was hard to admit. Either way, he forced a smile. You would take a while to get over, but he could do it. "Just, make sure to invite me to the wedding." He said softly and you could only blink at him, entirely amazed at how kind and resolved he was. "You're a good man Seonghwa." You told him, extending your hand to pat his arm. "So I've been told."

I always jinx myself, posting the teaser and saying I'll post it soon and then taking a month. I'm so sorry. I have been an awful emotional wreck lately and dealing with a lot of personal things that have been hitting me out of nowhere so things have been unpredictable.

Either way I hope you all enjoy this fic! It's emotional and kind of fast paced which I didn't want but I tried my best.

please tell me what you think! I would be so greatful for that.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez reaction #san #san smut #choi san

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millersdjarin · 1 year

Text

I Only See Daylight

Chapter Three

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E (eventually)

Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, grogu and his ~powers~, bonding, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse

Chapter Length: 6.1k

Previous Chapter | Series Info & Masterlist

i'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

In the later hours of the night as it stretches on into the next morning, you take your watch, and unease starts to curl in your stomach as you watch the sky. The clear, inky blackness is being covered by clouds, the wind picking up from the East, cold and nipping at your fingers and toes. In the distance, you could swear you start to hear rumbles of thunder on the hills.

Kriff.

It’s not long until you feel the first drop of rain fall on your cheek. You silently pray that it’ll just be a light shower, that it’ll pass quickly with the suddenly gusty winds.

Of course, that’s not how it happens. No, the rain only gets stronger, the sound of it hitting against the tent now almost as loud as the strong breeze rustling through the trees. You grab your coat from your pack and put it on, tucking your blanket into the shelter of a fallen log as best you can, not wanting it to get wet.

But it’s getting stronger, the wind picking up even more, thunder getting closer. The first flash of lightning isn’t a surprise, but it still makes you jump as it cracks through the sky all around you, followed shortly by a loud, long rumble of thunder.

“Come inside,” a voice says from behind you as the rain starts to pelt at your coat.

You turn, and Mando has a hand up to push back the tent so he can stick his head out. “I’m on watch—”

“Come inside,” he says again, this time gesturing for you to do just that.

You’re not going to argue. It’s really throwing it down hard now, your coat already surrendering to the wetness and letting it seep into your clothes. The thunder is right above you, lightning strobing through the thick covering of clouds.

It’s warmer in the tent, thank the Maker. The rain is loud above and around you, but the relief of being beneath some kind of cover is palpable.

“Thanks,” you say to Mando, wrapping your rather useless coat further around yourself. The kid is awake beside him, snuggled up into his hip with his face pressed against Mando’s flight suit. “Is he scared of the storm?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t like the noise.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“Is there anywhere we can go with better cover? I don’t trust this tent to hold in the winds.”

You chew your lip, thinking. “There’s a small cave a couple klicks North. It’s good shelter. It’ll be warmer.”

Mando nods. “I say we head for that. I can get the tent packed up in a few minutes—”

Another smash of thunder, this time so loud and sudden that it sounds like an explosion. It makes you jump, an involuntary yelp finding its way up your throat. Grogu jumps too, and cries, his ears turning downwards as he presses himself further into Mando’s leg.

The wind is already pounding against the tent like crazy, as if someone is outside and shaking the frame with all their strength. “We leave the tent,” you decide as Mando lifts Grogu into his arms, cradles him against his neck. “It’s not worth it. We need to get to cover. Away from the tall trees.”

Mando nods again and starts to get up. He holds open the tent’s door for you, and you accept gratefully, heading outside first before he follows you with the kid in his arms.

He’s shaking against Mando’s breastplate, hiding his head as far as it’ll go into his shoulder. The thunder is crashing every few minutes, lightning the bright and unrelenting warning of the sound. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen rain this heavy.

Before setting off, you scramble in your pack for the spare sweater that you keep at the bottom of it. You lay it over Grogu, tucking him in just like Mando does when he puts him to bed, not allowing in any drafts. Looking up into Mando’s visor, you explain, “Figure he’ll feel safer if he’s covered. Come on, let’s move.”

Your boots are muddy in a matter of minutes, flicks of it spraying all the way up your dark trousers. It takes fifteen minutes of hasty travelling through the forest to find the outcropping of rocks in a clearing at the bottom of a hill. The sky opens up above you and the rain gets even heavier. Fork lightning splits across the zenith, landing a blow onto the ground not far away.

Carefully, you step down onto the incline of the hill, grass slippery beneath your feet. With your hands out at your sides to keep your balance, you turn to the side, taking it one step at a time, the rain pelting down and making huge puddles of wet mud in between the layers of grass. Mando takes up the same position as you, clutching the kid to his chest while keeping him in the satchel.

It’s getting steeper, more treacherous. Each step you take slips an inch down before your foot finds purchase, the wetness finding its way into your boots and going between your toes.

“Watch your step—” Mando says, just a second too late as your foot falls into a deeper dip in the ground than you’d realised, splashing down into a deep puddle. You lose your balance in an instant and you feel Mando’s hands coming towards you, just about getting hold of your back, but your other foot slips with the force of his rescue and then you’re slipping down a long mudslide, only staying on your feet for a moment before you tumble forwards and onto your side. The ground feels impossibly hard beneath you as you roll all the way down the hill, shoulders smacking into the dirt over and over as the world spins around you.

You’re so dazed by the tumble, so winded from the force of it, that when you reach the bottom of the slope and finally come to a stop, at first you don’t notice the blinding pain in the back of your calf, and then, a moment later, the lizard tail that suddenly stings at your arm.

“Shit!” You cry out.

You hear the rain on Mando’s beskar before you even see him appear beside you. You’re not sure how he made it down the hill so fast without slipping, but he’s managed it, holding the kid to his chest with one arm and outstretching the other towards you.

The pain in your leg and arm is blinding. You’re not sure which is worse. At least you know that the shooting agony in your arm is from a lizard; you can’t tell yet what the hell is stabbing so far into your leg. It feels like you’ve twisted your ankle too, a throbbing starting up beneath the skin.

“Where are you hurt?” Mando’s voice comes through your pained panting.

“My—my arm, my leg, my—ah,” you grit your teeth against the tightening feeling in your arm, the lizard’s venom spreading and swelling your entire bicep. “Kriffing hells, my ankle, too.”

“Can you walk?”

In the haze that threatens to overtake your vision, you manage to lift up your good arm, the other clutched to your chest, and point to the cave just a few metres away. “The cave is just there, behind that overhang,” the urge to squeeze your eyes shut is almost irresistible, but you know that if you do, when you open them again the venom could temporarily make you blind. “Get the kid inside first.”

Mando hesitates for a second, but then nods, and runs through the rain into the cave.

It’s small, only a few metres deep, but the overhang at the front hides the entrance and keeps it almost entirely protected from the elements. You actually found it in a similar situation back when you first got to this planet; the storm wasn’t as sudden, so you searched for a place to hide before it got too bad. This was where you landed, and it kept you safe. Only, back then, you weren’t injured.

Mando is back out in just a minute, though it feels like longer; you can feel the sting spreading up your arm, the venom travelling through your blood. It’s only when you try to move your injured leg that you realise what the problem is: there’s a tree branch, broken off into a sharp point at one end, embedded in your calf. The ankle below it is swelling already.

“Let’s get inside,” Mando says. “Can you walk?”

It’s so alien to you to admit that something’s really wrong. But, really, right now, there’s no hiding it. You try to stand up, try to get both feet under you, but your injured leg buckles beneath you the minute you put weight on it. The tree branch is still in your flesh. “N—No,” you answer his question, catching yourself on the ground before you tumble face-first into it.

He catches you, wrapping an arm around your waist and slinging one of your arms around his shoulders. “Come on, lean on me,” he instructs, and you do.

The two of you stagger to the cave. Once you’re inside, the relief of being free of the rain and wind seems to lessen the pain a little. Not much, but enough that you notice it, despite the fact that you’re suddenly aware of just how covered in mud you are. With your good arm, you reach for the flashlight in your pack, and hold it up to illuminate the space. Grogu is at the far end, tucked into a corner and still wrapped in your sweater.

“Sit down,” Mando tells you. Carefully, he lowers you to the cave floor, leaning you against the wall. Grunts of pain come from your throat as the unpleasant sensations wash over you: a mix of feverish heat from the venom, the searing pain from the tree branch, and the throbbing of your ankle. Your vision starts to swim, gathering black spots.

“Hey,” Mando dips his head to try and meet your eyes, but everything is spinning, you can only see bits and pieces of the light, “Hey, look at me. Look at me, can you hear me?”

Blinking in a haze, you manage to nod. “It’s—the venom,” you rasp. Dizziness washes over you and stays there, rendering every inch of your wounded body unable to move, feeling like the world is shifting around you and you’re going in the opposite direction.

You can’t get your eyes to focus on him, but he tries to meet them anyway, dipping his visor with the lolling movement of your head. “I thought you said it wasn’t lethal?” He asks, then presses a gloved hand to your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“It’s…it’s not lethal,” your voice is just a breath now as the pain turns to weakness, dizziness becoming all you know, and you can’t imagine a world that doesn’t feel like it’s spinning on its head. “Just really…really shit.”

“I need to get your jacket off, take a look at the wound,” he says and tugs at the lapels of your coat.

You nod permission, so he carefully removes it, and rolls down the neck of your long-sleeved shirt to inspect the sting.

He puts his hand back to your forehead. If you were more coherent, you’d maybe wonder how he can feel the heat of your skin through those gloves; then again, though, you can feel just how hot you’re getting. Sweat sticks to your neck, glistens in between your fingers.

“Is there an antidote?”

“Mando, my…my leg, it’s…”

“I know, I know,” he says, sounding more frantic than you’ve ever heard him. Calmer than most people would be, you’re sure, but frantic for The Mandalorian. He looks to your leg, crouches down beside it. “The branch is stopping it bleeding for now. I need to get your fever down before I can do anything else, or you’re going to pass out.”

“’M fine,” you can hear your words slurring, feeling them barely slipping past your numb lips. “Get the branch out…”

“Are you sure? I—kid, stay back, it’s not—oh.”

In your delirium you only just register the change in Mando’s tone. The soft realisation as he says oh.

There’s the gentle pitter patter of feet waddling towards you. You manage to control your swaying head enough to look down and find Grogu padding over, his ears turned downwards in concern, the little hairs on his head soaking wet. He’s reaching a hand out towards you, and it’s not until he’s just inches away that you realise he’s trying to touch the wound. The stinger wound that currently feels like it’s on fire, that is somehow worse than the literal tree branch you have embedded in your calf muscle.

You go to push him away, to tell him no, but Mando takes hold of your arms and squeezes lightly. “It’s okay,” he says, watching as Grogu settles beside you and starts to close his eyes. “It’s alright. He’s helping you.”

Wide-eyed and confused, you glance between the two of them. Every instinct is telling you to shout Get away from me! Kid, please don’t touch me!, but you can’t move, can barely even see enough to notice Grogu’s hand stopping just an inch above the sting.

And then, you feel it.

The venom, once spreading all the way from the site and up your shoulders, rendering them unable to move or flex, begins to retreat. You can feel it, like the opposite of running water through your veins, drawing out from the wound. The burning heat of it sates, leaving coolness in its wake. Leaving your blood normal again, the pain receding.

What the fuck is happening?

It feels like your arm is deflating like a balloon. The dizziness subsides, the world coming back into focus around you and the black spots dissipating. All that’s left now is your panting, breaths coming deep and fast from your lungs as you recover from the pain, from a fever being literally taken away from you in seconds.

Mando’s hands are still on your arms, though not to hold you in place; they’re too gentle for it. They’re almost comforting.

“Good job, kid,” you hear Mando say, and if you weren’t so confused by the whole ordeal, you might hear the smile in his voice.

As you look down at the kid again, he looks up at Mando, his ears perking up at the praise. You panic, though, when his eyelids start drooping. He careens to the side, dropping to the floor as his eyes close completely.

“Grogu!” You cry, but Mando tightens his grip on your arms again, coaxing you to look at him instead.

“It’s okay. He’s alright, that happens sometimes after he uses his powers.”

“His—his what?”

Mando sighs like he doesn’t have time for this. Which, okay, he doesn’t. “I’ll explain later. How do you feel?”

“I—better,” you reply, confusion only growing with the answer. Your leg and ankle, however, still hurt like fuck. “My—my leg, Mando, the branch…”

He reaches into his satchel and brings out a medpack. “I’m going to get it out,” he says. Then, lifting his visor to look at you, “It’s going to hurt. I’m sorry.”

Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth, you nod, and tip your head back against the cave wall behind you, bracing yourself for the pain.

It’s a tearing, skin-searing pain as the gnarled piece of pointy wood is extracted from your leg. Mando does it quickly, not wanting to draw the procedure out, but, Maker, ripping something like that out from your calf muscle is something you definitely feel.

You cry out, bringing your hand up to your mouth to dampen the sound. Tears well in the corners of your eyes and you screw your eyes shut, trying to stop them from falling.

Mando gets to work holding pressure on the wound, and that hurts too, feels like he’s pressing against the bone with a long, wide iron rod. He doesn’t say anything, but out of the corner of your eye you catch him glancing up at you every few seconds, every time you let out choked cries of pain.

A traitorous tear slips past your defences. You don’t have it in you to wipe it away.

“Breathe,” Mando reminds you, soft but firm. “You need to breathe.”

Frantic, you nod, and do as he says. The breath enters your lungs with great effort, your body starting to feel the bruises from tumbling down the hill so fast. You breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth, trying to stay calm and focus on the breath rather than the pain.

Soon, the bleeding stops, and Mando applies a bandage, wrapping it all the way around your leg.

“Your ankle is swollen, but I don’t think it’s broken,” he tells you, placing fingers so gently over the swelling that it’s just the ghost of a touch. “It’s probably a sprain.”

You nod in agreement. You’ve sprained this ankle before, and it does feel the same, if maybe a little worse because of the wound above it.

Mando cracks a disposable ice pack and waits for it to turn cold before he places it over your ankle, gently holding it there with his gloved hands. “How does it feel?”

“Not great,” you say, wry, feeling the sweat on your forehead and neck start to go cold now that your fever has gone. Speaking of, “What just happened? With the kid?”

Mando doesn’t answer at first, concentrating just a little too much on the ice pack. Then, “He’s got powers. He can heal people.”

“I—what?”

“How much pain are you in?” He asks instead of elaborating.

The lack of explanation and sudden change in topic startles you. You blink, and consider your answer. “Quite a lot, but I’m okay. I just…I just need to rest.”

Mando nods. “We’re dry in here until the storm stops. Are you warm enough?”

You want to nod, want to tell him that you’re fine and that he doesn’t have to take care of you, but the cold sweat drying on your skin has you shivering. “Not really,” you answer honestly.

Without a word, Mando grabs the empty tent pack and pulls out a spare blanket. He starts to spread it over you, but you stop him, putting gentle and cautious hands on his wrists. The touch seems to surprise him; he looks up, stopping in his tracks.

Too overwhelmed by touching him, you pull your hands away and distract yourself by looking down at the kid. “Is he okay?”

“He just needs rest.”

You nod, then pat your lap. “He can share the blanket with me.”

A pause. An unreadable stare. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. He’s all wet, I don’t want him getting cold.”

Another pause, then a gentle nod, and Mando lifts the sleeping Grogu into your lap. You cradle him in the crook of your good arm as Mando tucks you both under the blanket. It’s such a soft, caring gesture; warmth blooms in your chest despite the pain you’re in, and for a moment, you’re lost in the darkness of his visor. Wondering about him. About his eyes. About his hands, his heart. Just wondering.…

“How long do storms usually last around here?”

“N—not long. Just a few hours.”

He nods. “Then you should rest until then.”

“I’m in too much pain to sleep,” you tell him, looking his helmet all over, not caring if he sees you taking in every inch of him. It doesn’t seem to bother him; he’s looking right back at you, maybe even observing you in the same detail behind that visor. Hesitant, you chew your bottom lip for a moment. He moves away, goes to stand up. “Wait,” you say before you can think better of it. He stops, waits. “Can you tell me about your travels?”

He tilts his helmet. “My travels?”

“Yes. Just—tell me about somewhere you’ve been. Somewhere pretty.”

Abandoning his mission to stand up, he settles down on the floor in front of you, propping one leg up so he can rest his elbow on it, the other bent on the cave ground. He’s got your flashlight facing the roof of the cave, and it casts a white, shadowy light through the place, making him look somehow dark and light all at once.

He’s quiet, at first. You’re just starting to think he isn’t going to tell you, doesn’t want to share anything about himself.

But then you realise he’s just thinking about his answer. Because he wants to give a real one.

“Takodana has beautiful forests…”

“You should go back,” you say, gritting your teeth through the pain in your leg.

Mando looks at you from his place by the cave’s entrance, Grogu cradled in one of his arms as the daylight streams in and reflects off his shiny armour. “I’m not leaving you here,” he says.

“You should. I can’t walk, but I’ve got enough rations to make it work here until the pain is better.”

“I said, I’m not leaving you here.”

You stare at him as he stares right back. Challenging.

It’s not that you want to be left alone out here. Being alone is something you’re used to—in fact, it’s often the way you like it—but being stuck in this cave without your own strength, relying on your rations, isn’t your idea of a good time, nor a particularly good idea.

But equally, feeling like you’re holding two people back from living their life just because you fell down a hill will be a weight on your shoulders. It’s easy to slip into guilt at the idea. Mando and Grogu have helped you enough by healing and patching you up. You’ve had your hike, you’re only a day and a half’s walk from your hut, and the storm has passed. There’s no reason for Mando to stay; at least, not one that won’t make you feel absolutely terrible for making him put his life on hold. Their life on hold, whatever that may entail.

(Bounty hunting, probably.)

“Mando…” you say, but he interrupts you.

“I’ll go back for the tent, now the storm has passed.”

“The tent will be shredded. You know that.”

“Do you have another one?”

“At home? Yes. With me? No.”

“Then if you can’t camp, how are you going to get back to your hut before the sun sets?”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll do it alone. I can sleep out in the open.”

He turns his whole body to face you, places one hand on his hip, impatient. “That’s not a good idea.”

“In case you forgot, this is my planet. I can handle myself.”

He stays pointedly quiet, tilting his helmet briefly to look down at your still-bandaged, still-swollen leg.

“I can handle myself enough,” you mutter, correcting yourself. “I mean it, Mando. You don’t have to stay here for me. This wasn’t part of our agreement.”

“We didn’t make an agreement.”

You sigh frustratedly and tip your head back against the wall behind you, finding it cold and damp. You don’t want to be left here alone. In fact, the very thought is terrifying.

But he’s got his own life. He’s got a kid. He’s got a bounty to get. You may not know much about him, but you are certain that he’s got more important things to do than sit in this cave and babysit you while you heal enough to walk to your silly little hut.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he says again, this time firmer. “If you don’t want me around, I can make camp outside. But I won’t leave you here injured.”

“No, that’s not—” there doesn’t seem to be a way to say I want you around that doesn’t sound weird, so you just cut yourself off, and close your eyes. “Alright,” you relent, quiet. “Alright. Thank you. You don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m going to go back to the camp, see what’s left of it. Do you need anything before we go?”

Keeping your eyes closed as a blush creeps its way onto your cheeks, you shake your head. It’s been so long since you accepted help; since anyone offered it. In fact, you can’t remember the last time it happened.

A thought that you have fought so hard to push down comes to the surface. It tastes sour on your tongue, sitting still in the back of your mind like it knows its very presence is enough to unravel you.

I don’t deserve his help.

You swallow the lump of tears that rises in your throat.

“I won’t be long,” Mando’s voice offers a welcome reprieve from the guilt, the shame. But when you open your eyes again, he and the kid are gone.

There are a lot of reasons that you chose this lonely life. Freedom, safety, a fresh start. And, maybe above all else, it was to escape the heavy feeling that you are a burden on everyone you meet.

Because that’s what they told you you are.

And, even now, years since you found your freedom, you still believe it.

It’s easy to forget when there’s no one else around.

The day stretches on. You doze off at one point, having spent half the night awake running from the storm and falling down a hill. The place where the lizard stung your arm is still sore, but only from the wound itself, not from the venom. You’re glad, at least, that on top of everything else, you’re not having to sit here stewing in a fever. Grogu saw to that.

However the fuck he did that.

You’ve heard of the Force, of having abilities that go beyond the realm of imagination. It could be that, you suppose, but you’ve never seen someone heal like that before. Let alone a kid.

The evening is fast approaching, and for a while, you start to think that Mando isn’t coming back. That maybe, halfway between here and your abandoned camp, he looked at the kid’s big eyes and realised he was better off just leaving you here. He could’ve done that with a clear conscience. He knows you’ll most likely survive here without him.

Which makes you wonder why he’s staying at all. Why he insisted on it.

Perhaps it’s his Creed.

Or maybe it’s just who he is.

He does come back as the sun starts to set. You can see the orange glow of the air outside the cave, feel a soft evening breeze brushing in through the foliage that hangs past the overhanging rock above the entrance. The contrast from the weather this morning is stark, and welcome. Outside, you hear his footsteps, hear the kid babbling away. Metal clangs loudly and through a gap in the leaves you see Mando tying his pallet of loot from the wreckage to a nearby tree.

Grogu coos happily when they step inside. You give him a tired smile, then look to Mando, who has a full pack slung over his back.

“The tent covering was mostly shredded. But our sleeping mats, pillows, and blankets were intact,” he announces, dropping the pack on the floor in front of you.

You look at it, then back to him. It’s been horribly uncomfortable to sit on this hard, stone floor all day. Your behind went numb hours ago, and the rock at your back has started to dig uncomfortably into your shoulder blade.

As if reading your thoughts, or your pain, Mando crouches down to open the pack, pulling out a sleeping mat. He lays it beside you, parallel to the stretch of the wall. Taking one of the air pillows, he puts it at one end of the mat. One of the other pillows has deflated. It sits on the floor beside him.

He drapes a blanket over the plump one, covering any lingering wetness.

You watch him. He’s not saying anything, just moving quietly and methodically, building you a bed inside this dimly lit, chilly cave. It’s so fucking endearing, so tender, of him; it brings a warmth to your chest, blooming out unfamiliarly into your arms and belly.

Once he’s done, he takes hold of the deflated pillow, puts his fingers over the air hole. Lifts it up to his covered mouth, hesitates.

“I’ll do it,” you say, reaching out for it. He lets you take it, and your fingertips brush against his gloves as you pull away. A shudder goes down your spine. You try your best to conceal it, and bring the air hole to your mouth before blowing the pillow up again.

“Thank you,” he says, taking it back from you and then propping it up against the cave wall beside the bed.

“You’re thanking me?” You raise an eyebrow. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

He gestures to the empty bed with his hand and a tip of his helmet.

Feeling just a little self-conscious under his unseen gaze, you shuffle across the floor as best you can without jostling your injured leg too much. A few grunts and gritted teeth later, you’re sitting with your butt on the soft mat, your back leaning into the air pillow against the wall.

The sigh of relief comes from your mouth before you give it permission. Your head tips back, eyes closing. “Maker,” you curse under your breath, “that’s so much better.”

“Good.”

You crack an eye open. “What about you?”

“There’s another mat.”

“Oh. Right.” You look across at the kid, who’s standing in the cave entrance, reaching up to play with the plants that hang down just inches from the floor. He giggles to himself with each leaf he successfully hits and swings. You find yourself smiling, unable to help it. His little hops are just so darn cute.

“I also went on a hunt,” Mando says, and brings out some fresh meat wrapped in the remains of the tent canvas. He’s already skinned and gutted it, ready to put it straight into a pan. “I thought we should save rations where we can.”

You nod, feeling a tightness squeeze at your throat, a stinging in your nose. No one has ever done this much for you before. Not without ulterior motives.

And you’ve tried to find one for him. Tried to dig, to look into the parts of him that he’s shown you. But there is no hidden reason for him to help you.

If he was here to collect your bounty all along, he’d just render you unconscious, and carry you back to his ship himself.

If he wanted to hurt you, to take advantage of you, he could easily have overpowered you by now. In your sleep, after you fell, when the fever was taking hold. Even afterwards, as the sun rose, and you were drifting in and out of consciousness as waves of pain came over you.

But he didn’t.

All he did was sit quietly. Played with the kid. Fed the kid. Fed you.

And then insisted on staying, even when it made no logical, self-serving sense for him to do so.

“Why are you helping me?” You find yourself asking as the tightness in your throat turns into another lump of emotion.

His helmet lifts, hands stilling in their task of retrieving the portastove from his pack.

He doesn’t answer. Just stares.

“You get nothing from this,” you say, unsure why you’re trying again to convince him to leave you here alone, when he’s already done so much for you, made this whole thing comfortable and bearable by just being here—“Why stay?”

For another long moment, he remains quiet. Then, unexpectedly, “This is the Way.”

That’s…not an explanation.

And you have nothing better to do than ask for further information. “What does that mean?”

He looks back down at the stove, moves over to set it up by the open air. He gathers a pan, puts the meat in it, and dusts off his gloves. Even though he’s not answering, you get the feeling that he’s not ignoring you. So you wait. Watching him.

“It’s part of my Creed,” he says eventually. “My religion.”

You raise an eyebrow, dubious. “To help people?”

“In a sense.”

You’ve never met someone part of any kind of religion that helps people. You’re not sure if it’s comforting or not, the fact he only does it because of his Creed. Or, so he says.

“That the only reason?” You find yourself asking, probably just a little too confident to be asking more questions when he’s already given you an answer. Which is more than you would probably give him.

He looks at you again. It’s incredible, how he manages to hold a shared gaze without you seeing his eyes. “It’s the right thing to do,” he says. It surprises you, that he’s given you another answer.

Warmth blooms in your chest again. You smile, soft. “Well,” you say, “thank you. I appreciate it.”

He cooks up the meat. Grogu hovers beside him. At one point he reaches out for the pan, going for a chunk of food, but Mando carefully slaps his hand away, points a finger at him, and says, “No. It’s hot. You’ll burn yourself.” To which Grogu listens, instead settling at Mando’s hip, seeming fascinated by the cracks and sizzles coming from the pan.

Once Mando has served both you and the kid your meals, Grogu waddles over with his little bowl, settles himself down on the mat beside you. You give him a smile and an affectionate wrinkle of your nose.

“It’s hot,” you warn him.

Grogu looks down at his food, then back at you, and the vaguest hint of a nod comes from his head. Then, in what is probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, he leans forward, making the tiniest ‘O’ shape with his little mouth, and blows on the food.

Mando, who is sitting against the wall opposite you, makes a noise that sounds like a fond laugh. It’s so surprising to hear that you snap your eyes up to look at him. You don’t know why you were expecting to see his face. It’s easy, when not looking at him, to forget that all you can see when you do is a helmet, all you can hear is his voice through it.

He’s got one leg bent up, his arm resting on it, hanging down over his middle. You’re not sure if he’s watching you or Grogu. Maybe it’s both.

You don’t know which you want the answer to be.

“So what about you?” He asks. His voice startles you as you put a hunk of meat up to your mouth, and it falls in before you have chance to blow on it. It’s fucking hot, but not quite hot enough to burn.

You hide your misstep by just chewing it like nothing happened. Something in the quirk of his helmet, though, shows you that he noticed. And he’s amused.

Clearing your throat, you ask, “What about me?”

“Why did you help me?” He asks. “Getting nothing in return?”

A soft frown creases at your forehead. Looking away, you stab at your food. “Same as you.”

“A Creed?”

You snort humourlessly. “I live here on a planet alone, and you think I’m part of a creed with other people?”

He hesitates. “You haven’t always been alone, though,” he questions, and his voice is soft, unnervingly so, like he’s unsure whether he should ask, “have you?”

You freeze. Stare down at your mess tin, at the oil and the red meat. Your thoughts start racing again, taking you back to the time when you weren’t alone, when you were never allowed to be alone. When there was no peace.

“I’m sorry,” Mando’s voice comes up again, softer still. “I overstepped.”

You go to shake your head, to tell him it’s alright, that he didn’t. But there are tears at the backs of your eyes. Memories flooding in.

No, I haven’t always been alone.

But now I am. And I have to stay that way.

Just about mustering enough strength to shake your head, you shove another mouthful in to your mouth and chew it silently.

Mando just watches. You, or maybe the kid.

You still don’t know which you’d prefer. And that is terrifying.

You never wanted to be seen again.

Now, you’re not so sure.

notes: i'd like to go camping in a cave with din and grogu pls and thank.

hope you enjoyed as always; all interactions are appreciated, but comments and reblogs especially fuel my need for validation ❤️

if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know!

take care of yourself ❤️

taglist:

@toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #star wars fanfiction #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian story #din djarin story #my post #my fic: mando #my fic #i only see daylight

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seireiteihellbutterfly · 5 months

Text

Vanilla Twilight

Rating: E! Super safe. Type: Drabble Premise : Gojo is known for being dramatic when he isn't near you 24/7. When you don't wish him goodbye, he comes up with a musical solution. Pairing : Gojo x reader Tone : light hearted, fluffy, cute, humorous

"Huh, music?" You pause in your teaching as the faint sound of melancholic pop flows through your window. Your students look around curiously as it gets louder.

Nobara's eyes widen suddenly. "This sounds so familiar... Is it... Owl City?”

The other students murmur in agreement. Bewildered, you try to get your students attention back to the lesson but the music kept getting louder. Then...

"The stars lean down to kiss you And I lie awake and miss you Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere"

Someone was singing, their voice amplified right underneath the window of your classroom. You recognize it and close your eyes.

He didn't... He wouldn't...

Bordering between amusement and exasperation you go over to the window and peek out. Sure enough, a familiar cloud of fluffy, white, hair is visible. A large speaker on wheels has been brought over with him. Your students are are unable to contain their curiosity as they flock to the window.

"Eh? Gojo sensei?" Yuji looks over the sill in fascination.

"I'll watch the night turn light blue But it's not the same without you Because it takes two to whisper quietly"

Gojo expertly sings into the mic. He looks up at you, and even with the blindfold, you can tell there's an adoring look in his eyes.

"For heaven's sake Gojo." You cover your face with a palm. "I had to leave early to get to work! That's why I didn't wake you up in the morning!"

In response, Gojo shakes his head as if to say not good enough and keeps singing.

"The silence isn't so bad 'Til I look at my hands and feel sad 'Cause the spaces between my fingers Are right where yours fit perfectly"

You had to admit, he has a nice voice. But his antics had reached a whole new level with this seranade.

"Cmon! You were sound asleep! What was I supposed to have done!" you shout out the window.

"But drenched in vanilla twilight I'll sit on the front porch all night Waist deep in thought because when I think of you, I don't feel so alone"

Your students are torn between wanting to laugh and also empathize with you. They've seen enough of the ridiculous stunts Gojo pulls on you when he's needy. With a resolute expression, Megumi walks out of the classroom and towards where Gojo had set up his concert.

"You didn't need to go this far! You would have come in and seen me here at work anyway!"

You're still trying to reason with Gojo, but this only makes him sing louder.

"When violet eyes get brighter And heavy wings grow lighter -”

“Hey what are you doing?!"

With a loud whine of feedback, the mic gets pulled out of the speaker socket and shuts off. Then a blast of curse energy hits the speaker, wrecking it beyond recognition.

"Megumi! I raised you to be better than this! How will my lady know I missed her now?"

Wordlessly, Megumi walks away, his job done. Pouting, Gojo looks up at the window and catches sight of your face. You groan and press your temples.

"Class dismissed". The students clamor out, talking about what just happened. You walk outside to your moping boyfriend as he sits on on the grass.

"Proud of yourself?" you ask him.

"I just... Wanted you to know I missed you. I don't like waking up alone in our bed." His pout intensifies, making him look like a neglected puppy.

"Oh Gojo." You sit down next to him and pull his head onto your shoulder. "Why are you such an idiot?"

You stroke his hair as he moves closer to you.

"Not just any idiot. YOUR idiot." he grins widely at you.

You smile back at him and let him give you soft kiss. He had somehow won this round.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fandom #jujustsu kaisen x reader #fluff #cute #jjk gojo #fanfiction

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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 2 months

Note

Hi! congrats on the anniversary 🫶

For the fanfic request: Ichihime + second date ( first kiss ) 🍓🍞

As the Rain Falls

Rating: K/General with mild themes

Setting: little over a month after We do Knot Always Love You

Synopsis: Ichigo and Orihime go on their second date, both anxious and excited about their new relationship, but Ichigo has things on his mind he can’t shake off.

AN: First up, a sincere apology for how late this is!!! >_< I must admit, I kept getting writer’s block with this one, but I still wanted to persevere with it and try to write for different characters and a different ship.

At the same time however, I'll admit I’m nervous about this. I've never written a fic where Ichigo and Orihime are the main characters, and I know that they'll be written out of character as a result. And it's me, so this is probably more angsty than you wanted ^^;

I tried, and hopefully it makes for an entertaining read.

Hope you enjoy this one!

_______________________________

Ichigo tucks his hands into his jacket pockets and bounces his knee as he looks around AB Cookies.

Arisa, who is currently at the counter, told him Orihime was getting changed and should be out soon. It had been only two minutes since then, but why did it feel like longer?

He sits in the corner at one of the few indoor tables, mostly ignored by the customers coming and going from the store. All around him, the room is brightly coloured in pastel hues and styled in a way that makes it appear homely and cute. If not for Orihime, he wouldn’t normally come to a place like this.

When another minute passes, he thinks to pull out one of his textbooks and study while he waits. He only gets as far as frowning at his backpack. Why is he so nervous? It’s not like this was their first date – that’d happened just over four weeks ago – so where is this anxious, fluttery energy coming from?

He blinks at hearing Orihime’s voice drift from the back. He straightens when she emerges from the doorway behind the rows of breads. She’s dressed in a bright sweater and skirt, and her boots clack on tiles then the wooden floors when she lifts the counter top and steps out to his side. She smiles widely when she glances at him, and he can’t help but smile back in return – she’s one of the few people who has that affect on him.

She only gives him her full attention after she says goodbye to Arisa, who in turn thanks her for her work. He stands up, shouldering his backpack as she approaches.

“Kurosaki-kun,” she greets. “Sorry for you keeping you waiting.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t take that long,” he says. He tips his head towards the exit. “You wanna get going?”

They end up in the main street of Karakura Town, walking towards the shopping district. Cars rush by and people crowd the streets. Above them is a mostly blue sky, but clouds linger.

“How was your day?” Orihime asks.

Ichigo shrugs one shoulder. “Nothing much. Just went to lectures mostly.”

“Which ones were they for?”

“English studies. What about you? Anything happen today?”

“A lot, actually. I told Ari -- Oh, wait!” She comes to a stop and reaches into her bag. “Are you hungry?”

Before he can even respond, she pulls out a bread bun and breaks it into halves. “It’s got red bean paste and strawberry in it,” she says as she offers one half to him. “It’s spares from the batches I made this morning, and I thought, since you were up early…”

He smirks fondly as he takes it from her. It’s so typical of her to think of something like this. “Thanks, I think I need this.”

She practically glows, and he has to bite into the bun to not embarrass himself with a stupid grin and chuckle. He hates how this reminds him of the way his father acted around his mother. He hopes to never be like that with Orihime, but even so, there are those moments where she gets to him, where her happiness and excitement become almost infectious.

“Is it good?” she asks.

He nods, mouth full, and it only makes her beam wider. He bites harder into the bun the next time as heat rises up his neck.

“So, I made that new donut for Arisa-san and Ichinose-kun,” she says.

“Oh, the one with seaweed, strawberry, and cashews?” he asks, trying to keep the wariness out of his voice; these new recipes she comes up with always mean a lot to her, even if he can’t comprehend them.

“Yes! Although I had to change it. I think I brought them around to it after create one without the cashews, but I'm starting to wonder if maybe peanuts might work better.

"I-Is that so?"

"I just think it needs a salty or nutty element! It still tastes good with jut the seaweed and strawberry though. They’re thinking about putting it in the front.”

Despite his reservations, he can’t help but he proud of her and his smile returns. “That’s great, Inoue.”

Something must show in his expression, because a faint blush colours her cheeks. “A-Anyway, after that I was speaking with Arisa-san…”

They keep walking down the street as Orihime talks and occasionally nibbles on her half of the bun. He listens to her, and as she carries on about her work – about the small things like finding a gacha trinket on the ground on her way to work, and bigger things like a corporate event who requested catering from the bakery – they wonder from the streets to a nearby park.

For not the first time, he thinks about how peaceful its' become. He still fights Hollows, but isn't as often as it used to be. There’s no looming threat over them, nothing to stop them from being by each others’ side. It’s why, along with seeing how happy Renji and Rukia were, and the former’s encouragement, he finally decided to ask Orihime out.

Their first date had been clumsy in the first hour. He’d planned dinner and a movie, a typical date night according to Keigo and Tatsuki. After Ichigo arrived late and Orihime got flustered trying to reassure him it was fine, the air had been awkward around them. Just the week before he’d confessed to her, and she did the same, and now it’s apparent their feelings for each other were more than either of them thought. Gradually, after they'd finished their dinner and they left to go see the movie, things eased.

Perhaps that where these fluttery nerves came from, left over from their last date. He'd thought he'd be more relaxed consider today’s date was even simpler: a walk in the park, then find a restaurant for a late lunch. It’d been Orihime’s idea, claiming she didn’t need to do anything fancy or complicated with him. He can’t help but suspect she had him in mind though, knowing he’d be tired from his studies and late nights of fighting Hollows and performing konsos on a wondering Souls.

Yes, he thinks as he finishes off his half of the bun, he’s grateful for this peace.

However, like how Zangetsu’s voice had haunted him in the months after the Arrancar’s invaded Karakura Town, there’s a part of him that lingers in the back of his mind, skeptical. It makes him notice the crowds all around them. Parents watching their children run and play around the park. Couples occupying benches or walking past them in their own worlds. A group of teens in school uniforms hunched over a manga magazine, laughing at something they’ve read. Everyone here had been under threat just over three years ago, and they hadn’t even known it. He’d defeated Yhwach, and yet he’s still haunted by ‘what-ifs’. What if he hadn’t defeated him? What if another threat lurks right beneath them, one that hasn’t been seen yet?

“Kurosaki-kun?”

Ichigo blinks out of his reverie. “Ah, sorry.”

Orihime blinks up him in concern, and had brought them to a stop at the park’s fountain. “Is something wrong?”

He thinks to hold it back in, to do what he always did and bottle it up. He’d stew on it, but it would pass or continue to linger somewhere within him, as everything else had. But what had helped him get over it? Rukia had, and Chad, and Uryu, and Renji, and Orihime. He should be able to tell her anything, especially now that they’re going out.

He doesn’t want his mood to bring the date down, and he knows if he says it’s nothing, she’ll drop it, not wanting to pry further. Even so, he knows she’ll worry about whatever is bothering him. He can’t do that to her.

He’s not sure where to start, but he opens to his mouth to say something.

And then there’s a plop on his head.

____________________________________________

Orihime had imagined scenarios like this many times. Ichigo would grab her hand and they’d rush down the street, the rain falling over them as their feet splashed through puddles. Somehow, the clouds would be thin enough that the sun would peak through, making colours more vibrant beneath the glittering rain. At some point, in slow motion, Ichigo would look over his shoulder at her, hair somehow unaffected by the rain and haloed in a lighter shade of orange. smiling confidently, and saying something heroic or sweet.

And right now, Ichigo turns his head over his shoulder, cringing with his bangs plastered to his forehead, panting for air, and trying to blink the rain from his eyes. “You okay?”

She too has to get rid of the drop falling around her eyes to see him, wiping them and a strand hair stuck to the side of her face away with the heel of her palm. “Y-Yes! But where are we going?”

The rain comes down in torrents, drenching them in less than a minute. Around them, everyone is rushing out of the park and back to the shops that line the streets. She considers asking if they can head back to AB Cookie, but considering how soaked they are, she doesn’t want to cause any trouble for the staff in cleaning up after them; they’d probably make puddles in the middle of the store.

They run across a zebra crossing, and then next thing she knows, Ichigo brings her under the awning of a closed up shop. They almost hit the shutter door, stumbling under the shelter.

They take a moment to catch their breaths, with Ichigo hunched over and Orihime leaning against the shop’s garage door.

“This rain came out of nowhere!” she says. “The forecast was sunny. Guess I should’ve known better when I saw the clouds.”

Ichigo rises from his hunch. “You can’t predict the weather, Inoue.” He half teases and half reassures her, and she’s grateful for it.

��It’s still a shame we can’t go to the park now,” she says.

“We'll go another time. There's other stuff we can do. Unless you'd rather head home."

"Maybe we should wait until the rain stops...or there's less of it."

He only hums in acknowledgement.

It’s only then she realizes he still hasn’t let go of her hand, and she fears looking down at their joined hands and drawing attention to it will make him want to pull away. She discovered very quickly he got embarrassed by PDA – whether it was between them or with other couples. It’s oddly cute to her, and she herself still wasn’t sure if she likes it either. Holding hands like this, though, is something she’s always wanted.

The skin of his palm and fingers is rough from callouses, but the back side is softer than she expected. And it’s warm despite the rain.

Without meaning to, she squeezes his hand, and he looks down. Instead of pulling away, he tilts his head to the sky, almost shyly. She withholds a bewildered giggle. He can still surprise her, it seems.

It’s a minute later when the rain lessens.

“It’s not as bad now,” she says.

“Yeah…” He’s not fully there, his gaze turned up at the clouds. The rain affects him in a way she doesn’t fully understand yet. In the years since she first met him, whatever grips has gradually faded from what it used to be.

“We can probably head…” she starts, but trails off.

Now what? They can’t go to the park, and they can’t go out to lunch with their clothes so drenched. Maybe they should call it a day, and try again for next week sometime. But as Orihime eyes Ichigo, seeing the slight clench in his jaw and the way his eyes narrow at the sky, she knows she can’t leave him alone.

“Um…”

At her nervous fidgeting, he blinks, coming out of his daze, and looks to her. “What is it?”

“We can, um…w-we can head back to my place. It’s close by, so…”

Orihime tries and fails to push the heat rising to her face. Yes, Ichigo has been to her place many times before, but not since they started dating. Who knows what could happen? She tries to dismiss the sparkling fantasies that threaten to take over her mind.

“If you’re okay with that," he says, "just until the rain stops.”

“Of course!”

“Well, then, thanks.” He gentle pulls on her hand. “We should get going.”

He begins to lead her back out into the rain again.

“Actually…”

“Hm?”

At his raised brows, Orihime quickly bows her head. “Ah, yes, sorry! I uh, just…actually, nevermind!”

“Hey, come on. What is it?”

Orihime drops her rueful smile with a defeated chuckle. “It’s just that, after our date, I planned to go to the convenience store to pick up a few things. With this rain though, it’s probably better that we just head back.”

“We can still stop along the way. You’ll need help carrying things, right?”

She’d never point it out, but there were times she senses an eagerness from him, one he’d keep reserved under many layers. It’s another endearing quality she secretly loved about him. With a nod, she says, “Then, if it’s not too much trouble….”

He gives her a small smile. “It isn't, Inoue.”

She has to turn away as her heart skips a beat.

They make a quick dash to the convenience store that’s a few minutes from her home. She stops under the entrance’s awning and grabs the end of her skirt to wring some of the rain water out. She barely hears Ichigo’s quiet chuckle over the rain. “Don’t think it’ll make much of a difference.”

“Well, we might end up making puddles in there,” she reasons.

“It’ll be fine, we’re not staying long, right?”

As soon as they enter the convince store, Orihime bows apologetically to the cashier. Ichigo just sniffs, trying to cover up another chuckle. She’s quick to go the aisles for milk and despite the slight indignation rising in her, Orihime is glad to see faint amusement in Ichigo's expression.

She’d also imagined a scenario like this, albeit without them being wet and cold. Somehow, though, she liked how this was turning out instead. Maybe it’s knowing Ichigo is following her as she went down the aisles, his footsteps always behind her or at her side. Maybe it’s the fact that when she picks up a cup of noodles, he asks what she’ll make with it, and even as she lists off all the ingredients that sound odd to put with it, he offers weary encouragement. Maybe it’s discovering he likes a particular brand of rice crackers when she goes to pick up her usual one, and explaining to him why she prefers this one over the others. They’re small, mundane things, but every little part of it is something she can say she’s experienced with him now.

Everything comes to a halt when they get to the freezers. Orihime almost frowns when she has to crane her neck to see the milk she normally buys. “They must have moved everything around, these never used to be so high up.”

She opens the fridge door and stands on her tippy toes.

She stops when Ichigo steps up behind her and reaches his hand into the freezer. “I’ll get it.”

Her back is almost pressed against his chest, and as she turns to look at him, she’s struck once again by how tall he is. From this angle she can admire the strong line of his jaw, and watches a raindrop roll off it and hit the collar of the shirt beneath his jacket. Once he hands her the milk, she snaps out of it. “Ah, thank you!”

However, neither of them moves. Orihime stares up at him, and he stares back. Her heart flutters at the hint of softness in his gaze. It’s nothing like her fantasies, where there’s sparkles and flowers magically appearing around them. She swallows, unsure if she’s bold enough to do what she’d always wanted to ever since he confessed to her.

Before she can think any further, Ichigo clears his throat and abruptly turns away. “Sorry, I, uh…”

Orihime shakes her head and takes the bottle of milk from him. “Ah, i-it’s fine! I, um…hey, look, there’s my favourite icecream! I should grab a tub while I’m here!”

She quick to move away, and she’s certain the heat colouring her face will dry her scalp in no time.

Several minutes later, she pays for the milk, a tub of biscuit and tea flavored ice-cream, three cups of noodles, two ramen kits, and a packet of rice crackers.

When they step back out, he holds out his hand. “I can carry it.”

“There’s no need.” When his hand doesn’t drop, she takes out the milk. “If you’re sure.”

__________________________

Whenever Ichigo enters Orihime’s house, he’d find his gaze wondering over to Sora’s photo. It happens not long after he takes his shoes off and he steps into the main room, and today is no exception as he removed his jacket and hangs it on a free hook; it drips over his shoes. He only looks away when Orihime puts the shopping bag on the kitchen counter.

She puts away the ice-cream, and it prompts him to hand her the milk again. “This too.”

She comes over to him, takes the bottle, and as he makes to step into the main area, she holds up her hand.

“Hold on a second,” she says before turning and putting the milk in fridge.

He doesn’t move beyond the tiny foyer, waiting for her after she dashes off to the bathroom. She comes out with two towels and holds one out to him. “It’s not much, but maybe for your hair?”

“You didn’t have to,” he says. But the it occurs to him he’d probably drip all over her floorboards. “You sure you’re okay with me coming in?”

There’s a pause, and a faint blush rushes up in her face. “O-Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Think I’m going to make everything damp,” he says while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’ll dry eventually.” She lifts the other towel. “If you’re worried, you can always put this over the cushion at the kotatsu.”

He normally wouldn’t care, but he takes both towels from her. “Yeah, sure.”

“Make yourself comfortable,” she offers. “I’ll just go get changed and then make some tea. Or would you like hot cocoa? I got some a few days ago, I haven’t tried it yet.”

“Tea is fine.”

She smiles with a nod before going to her bedroom.

He remains near his shoes, drying off his arms, face, and hair before going to kotatsu. After laying the second towel down over the cushion he sits. He continues patting down and drying his hair as he waits. He ignores the rain thrumming gently against the windows, and once again, his gaze wonders to Sora’s picture. A bowl of nashi pears lies on one side of the photo, and a recently lit incense stick on the other.

A part of him wishes he’d properly met her brother while he was still alive, so that Acidwire and the night he was brought to the Kurosaki Clinic weren’t the only memories he had of him. Compared to everything else, however, it feels like a distant memory, and it thankfully ended in a better outcome than others.

Orihime emerges from her room, now dressed in a new sweater and jeans, and a headband pushes her damp hair behind her shoulders. She hums while boiling the water and taking out the teapot. Watching her brings a sense of calm to him, and a relief that doesn’t surprise him as much as he thought.

It’s not the first time Ichigo wonders if everything they’ve been through has affected her. Does she still have bad dreams? How much had she told Tatsuki? Were there things she hadn’t told him yet? Would she ever tell him?

And perhaps that is what bothered him most. He, Orihime, and their friends had to live with those memories, and all of consequences that came with them as the world went on ignorant to what had almost happened.

He’d been almost ordinary once, going to school and getting into trouble with humans. At the time seeing the Souls always reminded him he was anything but normal, and since becoming a Shinigami, any chance of him being fully human had been dashed.

It had been his choice, one he didn’t truly regret despite everything that came after. He had been powerless to help others in need, to protect those he cared about, and Rukia had given him that chance on that fateful night.

But Orihime had been ordinary – or at least, more ordinary than him.

He didn’t know much about her parents, but of what little he did know, he knew they were the kind of people he would’ve kicked to the curb. And yet she had gone through that and was still able to smile, just as she had with everything that happened in Los Noches.

So caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice her approach until she sets a mug down in front of him.

“Here,” she says. “It’s just black tea, I ran out of green. Didn’t think to get it while I was at the convenience store, silly me.”

He manages a faint smile. “It’s fine, thanks.”

She settles down to right, wrapping her hands around her own mug. After a moment, she says, “Before…there was something you were going to say. Do you still want to say it?”

He stares down at his dark reflection in the tea, considering. “It’s nothing major, and it’ll pass.”

She shuffles, and then her hand slides along the table and into his view, stopping centimeters from his. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she reassures. “I don’t want to upset you.”

“You don’t,” he says, raising his gaze to her. “You never have.”

It’s a bold confession from him, and he’s saddened to see her withhold a wince. Perhaps there are still some things she holds from the past, misplaced guilt in her role of situations beyond her control.

“Inoue.” He gingerly takes hold of her fingers, and struggles to find the right words. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Maybe it is.” She brings her hand around his, her grip warm and firm. “Whatever we face, it’s together, right?”

For a second he’s brought back to facing Yhwach. He’d asked Orihime to be his shield, to fight at his side against a foe of unknowable strength, for a future that wasn’t guaranteed.

How could he have been so foolish right now?

He can’t help but smile ruefully to himself. “Yeah, of course.” Then, after swallowing thickly. “Are you happy?”

It’s a sudden question, one he hadn’t thought to ask but had come forth anyway. Sensing how loaded it is, Orihime looks out the window in thought for several heartbeats. Her lips form a slow, sweet grin. "I am."

He tries to ignore the skip of his heartbeat, and the uncomfortable way his throat constricts. Before he can say anything, she continues, and her smile wavers slightly. "What about you, Kurosaki-kun? Are you happy?"

He thought it would take him longer to answer, but it comes to him with a few memories. The first is returning to everyone after Yhwach’s defeat. Despite the mix of emotions -- the melancholoy of Yhwach’s final words and the pinch of fear for the unknown ahead of them -- it all dulled away to an intense relief at seeing his friends. Uryu stood far away, watching as everyone rejoiced at seeing one another. Ichigo knew a conversation would be had some point, but the fact he was there was enough hope for him for now.

The second was his high school graduation. He grumbled on the day it on the day, and despite how mundane it would seem to many compared to what he’d achieved in other worlds, he felt a small sense of pride at having finished it. Isshin of course was an embarrassment on the day, one minutes shouting his praises about Ichigo and the next weeping about how he's grown so much. He'd taken a picture of him and his friends together, one that Orihime had a copy of on the wall near her bedroom door.

The last was watching Renji and Rukia get married, seeing their friends and the Shinigami happy for them. It was only then the peace truly hit him, that maybe he can gather the courage to tell Orihime how he truly felt. And the excitement and anxiety that came when she said she was free three days from then.

The nerves from before hadn't just come from a change in their relationship, from friendship to something more, but from the thought it could be disrupted by a new threat. But he had chosen this dangerous life, and she had joined him and others in it. They all know the risks, but they didn't have to always be hyper-vigilant. They had to live.

“Yeah, I am.”

At her widened grin, he remembers for a short period of time after Yhwach’s defeat when Orihime had put on smiles, attempting to mask the sadness and pain she truly felt. According to Tatsuki, it had been while he was in his comatose state after Aizen’s defeat. In both cases, that gradually changed.

In the face of everything that had come before and because she had the courage to in the face over everything that tried to take it from her, she still smiles and laughs. She helps others and protects Karakura Town. He can see why otherwise would under-estimate her – he may have once himself – but in truth, she’s probably one of the strongest people he knows. He’d grown to love her for those reasons and more.

And he loves her for it. He gets strength from her because of it. He can go into this peace with her because of it.

It’s only then he realizes he’s gotten closer to her, so much so her face takes up most of his view. She stares at him wide eyed, her lips parted and her cheeks flushed as she tries to stammer out his name. It's just like before in the convenience store; she'd captivated him with just a look.

“Ah, sorry,” he chokes out, but he barely leans back. It’s as if he’s frozen in place, and the only way to come unstuck is to lean forward.

With one last gaze flickering to her lips, he leans in. She does the same before he closes his eyes. He’s be ashamed to admit he’d imagined this at more than once, but it’s not how he expected it to be. It’s soft and awkward, both of them frozen in place, afraid to move despite how misplaced their lips had locked. He pulls back a little and tries again. If Orihime’s quiet, pleased sigh and the way his heart beats faster is any indication, it’s better.

A warmth spreads through him, radiating from his chest and thrumming through his fingers. He’s light-headed as they pull apart, and when their eyes flutter open, his heart skips a beat at seeing the softness in her expression. He’s with her, holding her hand,

When the haze of whatever this is has worn off, he’ll elaborate further on what bothers him. And when he does, she’ll listen intently, holding his hand, and smile when he he’s done, and be glad he told her. More than that, however, she’ll be glad they can go together into this newfound peace.

Dealing with the memories of the darker and weaker moments had become easier him and the others as time went on. He, Orihime, and their friends kept walking forward in the face of it, and eventually alongside it, and one day, past it as they forge their futures.

#ichihime #ichigo kurosaki #orihime inoue #bleach #fanfiction #blog anniversary requests

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echidnapower · 10 months

Text

Trapped In This Machine

So I'm reposting all the fics that I nuked when I left Tumblr the first time. We'll start with this one, in celebration of the return of one of my favorite Sonic the Hedgehog content creators - the amazing @e-vay, whose art HERE inspired the story. Enjoy!

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I should've realized from the beginning that something was wrong. How could I have been so blind as to not realize that something was suspiciously out of the ordinary with him? Maybe it was the extra attention he was giving me, the sudden...willingness to give affection that caused me to maybe...I dunno, not care that he was acting out of the ordinary.

He'd become everything that I wanted him to be, he was caring, affectionate, even - dare I say - loving, and all out of nowhere too. I really should've questioned it more, I should've listened to the warnings all my friends kept giving me...if I had...then maybe we wouldn't all be fighting for our very lives right now.

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"So, Amy, how's about a trip to Twinkle Park? I think they renewed that cute couples get in free promotion," Sonic leaned down a bit to grin at the pink hedgehog walking next to him. "And I can't think of any couple that would qualify more than you and me, whaddya say?"

Amy Rose blushed and giggled bashfully, playfully nudging the blue hedgehog with her shoulder before smiling up at him. To say her dream had come true would've been an understatement. Just a few days ago, she'd been wishing that Sonic would just stop beating around the bush and admit he loved her the same way she loved him...and almost as if he'd read her mind, seconds later he was at her door, offering to get some lunch with her, just the two of them.

Since then, they'd barely spent any time apart, except for sleep and necessary hygiene practices. Amy was on cloud nine, the one thing she'd always wanted had finally been given to her. Sonic the Hedgehog was hers at last, and he'd been giving her all the love she could ever ask for. "Well if you insist," she giggled again. "We might as well see what's new."

"Hey, I have an idea," he smirked. "Let's invite the gang to join us, we'll make it a group date."

At this, Amy's eyes widened and she looked up at him in shock. "Sonic, are you sure? I mean, you told me to keep it quiet for a while, I don't want-"

"Chill Ames, no big deal." Sonic shrugged. "I had a little time to think about it, and I figure that if I'm gonna be with you, I might as well let everyone know. What better way than for us to make it official at Twinkle Park?"

"Oh Sonic!" Amy lunged forward and embraced the speedy hedgehog, and held in a squeal when Sonic reciprocated the gesture. "Thank you, thank you so much!" she pulled back and ran off, waving goodbye as she looked over her shoulder. "I'm gonna go tell everyone to meet us at Twinkle Park, I'll see you later Sonikku!"

"Seeya Ames! I can't wait for tonight!"

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"Have you got anything Tails?"

"I dunno," Tails pushed his computer chair back and sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, other than his sudden affection for Amy, he's still been totally Sonic." the fox looked up at his guest. "Have you noticed anything else weird?"

"Can't say that I have," Knuckles the Echidna, Guardian of the Master Emerald and friendly rival to Sonic the Hedgehog, stood in Tails' workshop trying to unravel the mystery of Sonic's sudden emotional turnaround. "Maybe we're just paranoid?"

"It's possible..." Tails sighed and stood up from his chair. "I mean, I always knew that Sonic thought Amy was special in his own way, but for him to go from awkward to a regular Romeo-type all in the span of three days just sends up some red flags in my mind."

Knuckles shrugged. "Maybe he just finally manned up and admitted how he feels, like you need to do with Cream."

"Don't change the subject." Tails glared at the guardian, although his blush took away some of his intensity. "I dunno, I guess we should just keep watching, maybe Sonic really has changed." Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Tails went over and opened it, revealing an absolutely giddy pink hedgehog. "Oh, hi Amy."

"Are you ready for what I have to tell you?" Then her peripheral vision registered a splotch of red, and she turned to get a better view. "Knuckles is here too! Perfect! That means one less trip I have to take!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the group trip we're taking to Twinkle Park tonight!"

Tails raised an eyebrow. "We are?"

"That's right!" Amy moved past Tails and did a little pirouette in the middle of the workshop. "I talked with Sonic and we agreed that we should get the whole gang together to have some fun, y'know, as friends!"

"This seems pretty sudden Amy, why now and not before?" Tails said as he scratched his chin in suspicion.

"Well duh," Amy replied with her hands on her hips. "Sonic wanted to wait for the cute couples get in free promotion to get started again! After all, why pay for tickets when we can just walk in hand-in-hand and have a fantastic time for free?! That's called sound economics."

"It sounds like bull-"

"Knuckles!" Tails quickly cut off the guardian before he could finish his thought, then he directed his attention back to Amy, who seemed none too impressed with their reactions if her expression was anything to go by. "Amy, don't you think that something's a little...off...with Sonic?"

"No, why would I?"

"Because he's suddenly all over you and can't stop staring at you when before he actively ran away from you." Knuckles blunt statement was responded to with an angry glare from the pink hedgehog. "You can glare all you want, you can't tell me you aren't even curious as to why Sonic's pretty much started letting his hormones do all of his thinking for him."

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Sonic's finally just realized that he cares for me?" Amy stomped forward with her hammer suddenly in hand, causing the echidna to back away a few steps. "Or am I so ugly that Sonic would have to completely lose his mind to think that I'm anything more than a nuisance?"

"N-No one's calling you ugly or a nuisance Amy!" Tails gulped when she suddenly rounded on him. "All we're saying is that...it does seem a little bit sudden, you can at least admit that much can't you?"

Amy sighed and took a moment to regain her composure. "Ok, I know you wouldn't ask unless you were legitimately worried, I appreciate that Tails," her hammer disappeared. "But there's really nothing wrong with Sonic! I mean, come on, no one knows him better than I do, I'd be able to tell." she gently placed her hand on the fox boy's shoulder. "Now come on, we're all going to Twinkle Park tonight! If you want, I'll even call Vanilla for you so Cream can come with us."

"And what about me?"

Amy turned her head to look at Knuckles, who was crossing his arms with a scowl. "Well, if you wanna find Rouge and ask her to come, all you gotta do is leave the Master Emerald alone for a little longer." she smirked at the low growl the echidna gave. "You know it would work."

"That's what bothers me." Knuckles uncrossed his arms and walked past both Tails and Amy as he headed to the door. "What time are we meeting up?"

The pink hedgehog tapped her chin for a moment in thought. "I think five 'o'clock should give us enough time to go around the park, sound good to you?"

"Wouldn't matter what time you chose, I would've come anyway." Knuckles walked out and grabbed hold of the door before he stopped. "After hearing all this from you, I'm starting to think maybe I was wrong and there really is something wrong with Sonic." With that, the echidna slammed the door shut.

"Do me a favor and don't come!" Amy growled before she looked over at Tails. "And you? Are you still convinced that Sonic is suddenly a huge jerk and this is all some elaborate prank or something?"

Tails slowly shook his head. "I don't know what to think Amy..." he looked up at her. "Honestly, I'd like to believe this is all real and Sonic's finally starting to come around to how he really feels about you, I want you to be happy!"

"Then trust me on this!" she put both hands on his shoulders and looked the fox boy in the eyes. "I'm happier than I've ever been in my whole life, and it's all because of Sonic! I've learned to tell when he's just putting on a show, and this is all real! He really loves me!"

The young genius relinquished a smile. "Ok Amy, if you say so."

"Good." Amy nodded and smiled as well. "So, how's about I make that phone call? There's a cute little rabbit girl who I have a sneaking suspicion is starting to crush on you, and I bet she'd love to hang out with us tonight."

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As soon as the clock struck five, the entire gang got together and met at the entrance of Twinkle Park in Station Square. Amy had indeed convinced Vanilla to allow Cream to join them, and Knuckles had decided to come alone, although he seemed incredibly guarded. "Lighten up Knucklehead, we're here to have fun, and no one likes a grouch when there's a party goin' on."

Knuckles shrugged off the blue hedgehog's hand and growled lowly. "Let's just get in there."

Sonic just shrugged and went over to put his arm around Amy. "Suit yourself pal, hope you brought some money with ya, since ya don't get to take advantage of the cute couples get in free perk." He led the pink hedgehog over to the entrance and stood on the platform, and then he turned his attention to his friends. "Cute couple number two, come on down!"

Both Tails and Cream's cheeks turned pink, but they did walk in together as the platform went up, leaving Knuckles alone by himself until the platform returned. "I'm not a grouch." he grumbled.

Knuckles did have to pay to get in, but eventually they did meet back up and they soon started going around the park and partaking in all that it had to offer. Rollercoasters, thrill rides, a ride (or three) through the Tunnel of Love, and of course the never-ending variety of greasy fair food. Sonic had tried to get Knuckles to take a bite of the funnel cake he'd gotten for himself and Amy, but the echidna just glared at him in response. "Boy Knux, you're really makin' a case for jerk of the year, why'd ya even come if ya didn't wanna be here?"

"I have my reasons."

"Don't even pay any attention to him Sonikku," Amy said all too sweetly. "He's just jealous that he's all alone while we're all here on a double date."

"But Mr. Knuckles," Cream spoke up. "You could have gotten Miss Rouge to come with us right? Then you wouldn't have been so lonely!"

"That's got nothing to do with it!" Knuckles rounded on his younger companions and scowled viciously, his fists clenched in barely contained rage. "The only reason I'm here is to protect you three from getting hurt!"

Sonic scoffed. "Get hurt? From what? Eating too much junk food?"

"How 'bout from you wise guy?" Knuckles got up in the hedgehog's face, and Sonic's cocky grin immediately vanished. "I've been watching you all night, and at first I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but now I know for a fact that you're not yourself, if you're even Sonic at all."

"Oh yeah? And what makes you think I'm not the genuine article?"

"Because there's no way the real Sonic would ever be so openly affectionate, he doesn't have the guts!"

"Knuckles, go home!" Amy leaped up from her seat and gave the guardian a murderous glare. "I'd say I can't believe you would stoop so low, but then I remember it's you! Go back and protect your stupid rock, we do not require your services!" The pink hedgehog tugged on Sonic's arm and started leading him away. "Come on Sonic, let's go on the ferris wheel together, I've lost my appetite."

"Me too Ames."

The couple left in a huff, and Knuckles narrowed his eyes as he stared at the backs of the two retreating figures, and his eyes widened when he saw Sonic smirk at him over his shoulder. "Tails, we need to follow them."

"Knuckles, I-"

"Just do it!"

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Inside one of the ferris wheel gondolas, a blue and pink hedgehog were sitting alone, leaning against each other. The old machine had been empty until their arrival, but the old dog who ran it was more than happy to give the couple some free rides to collect their thoughts. "'T'is a great place to have a heart to heart." he'd said.

And that was what Amy was doing, as she poured out her heart to her new boyfriend. "I can't believe Knuckles would accuse you of faking all this...I mean, is it really so unbelievable? Am I really that terrible of a person that it's impossible to buy that you care for me?"

"Nah Ames, Knux is just paranoid, maybe he's just tryin' to overcompensate for all the times Dr. Robotnik tricked him."

The pink hedgehog raised an eyebrow at that and smirked. "Dr. Robotnik? No crazy quips or references to his looking like a giant walking egg?"

Sonic shrugged. "Why state the obvious?"

"I dunno," Amy also shrugged. "It's just that it's never stopped you before, kinda weird to actually hear his actual name again after all this time."

"Yeah well, that's not important anyway." Sonic turned and took Amy's hands in his. "What's important is us, and I gotta say Ames, these past few days have been the greatest days of my life...it's really too bad that it's gonna be all over soon."

"Well, what makes you say that?" Before Sonic could answer however, Tails appeared out of nowhere and slammed his feet into the back of Sonic's head before scooping Amy into his arms. "Tails, put me down! Have you lost your mind?!"

"Now Knuckles!"

Knuckles got a running start and reeled his fist back, and as soon as he was in range, he unloaded a vicious punch that obliterated the old metal keeping the ferris wheel standing, and it all came crashing down as sparks flew from the malfunctioning machinery, with Sonic crashing down along with all the debris.

"Sonic!" Amy turned and pulled out her hammer, her teeth gritted and her eyes brimming with tears. "You're both insane, do you have any idea what you just did?!" But suddenly from the smoldering flames that were now lighting up the night sky with yellows and oranges, a figure emerged from the wreckage, one whose silhouette was easily recognizable. "Sonikku! You're alive!"

But then the dust settled, and Amy's cries of joy turned into a fear-filled shriek as her eyes beheld a sight that she never would've dreamed of in her worst nightmares.

Instead of blood coming from the blue hedgehog's wounds...there was nothing but metal and wire. "I was really hoping it wouldn't have to be this way..." the creature's head lifted, and while one side of its revealed the unmistakably emerald green eye of Mobius' greatest hero, the other side showed nothing but darkness, and an angry red iris with a yellow pupil. "But thanks to Knuckles, now I have to do this the hard way."

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I was a fool, Knuckles was right all along. Sonic wasn't acting like himself because he wasn't himself. He'd been replaced by this...twisted perversion of him, made of nothing but iron and circuitry...but it was so real, a small part of me still couldn't let the thought that this was Sonic go.

But as I watched this incredibly realistic version of Metal Sonic engage in a fight to the death with the weakening Knuckles, I knew I couldn't let myself suspend my disbelief any longer. I had to help, somehow. Tails had already been knocked out, only seconds after he'd told Cream to fly away and get help. Given the circumstances though, I didn't think help would arrive in time. It was time to step up.

I grabbed my hammer and rushed forward with it held over my head, and I slammed it down on Metal Sonic's head, sending him to the ground for a moment so Knuckles could unleash an uppercut that sent him flying into the distance. "Knuckles, I am so sorry."

He gave me a grim smile in return, he was rubbing his fist and I could see the blood starting to leak through the fabric of his glove, as well as the blood coming from his chest and the side of his mouth from wounds shaped like claw marks. "I've dealt with worse." The next thing I knew I was on the ground as Knuckles shoved me out of the way, and then I heard a sickening thump, followed by a dull thud. When I turned around, I saw Knuckles on the ground, unconscious, with Metal Sonic standing over him with a frown.

"You stay away from me!" I raised my hammer in defense.

"I wish I could Ames."

My eyes widened and I felt my heart start to beat faster than it ever had before as a lump formed in my throat. Although the voice was synthetic, the way he'd spoken wasn't at all like something Metal Sonic would say...it was something that...Sonic would say. "Who are you? Are you Metal Sonic?"

The blue robot - or hedgehog, I was so confused I didn't know what to call it - took another step towards me, and I took a step back to keep the distance. "You'd think so wouldn't you?" he replied as he continued to approach. "But the truth is, I'm way better than any of those pathetic rip-offs, even before I became like this."

I felt my heart shatter, and I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. "Sonic..." I choked.

"In the flesh, so to speak." Sonic stopped to gesture at himself. "Pretty impressive huh? Dr. Robotnik managed to perfect his roboticization technique, he found me a few days ago and used it on me first. Now I've got a new goal, and that's to take you guys out...first I had to get closer to you to gain your trust...although I gotta say, I'm not really likin' this next part."

"Then don't do it! Sonic, you don't have to listen to Eggman! If he managed to turn you into a robot and make you so convincing that even I couldn't tell the difference, then that means despite all that programming he gave you, the real you is still in there! Trapped in that machine!"

For a moment, Sonic seemed to slouch a bit. "I don't wanna kill you guys," But then he looked back up and glared at me. "But I have no choice, my mission is to destroy you guys, and I'm gonna do it!" He charged towards me at full speed, and I barely reacted fast enough to get my hammer up and stop him from running me through with his exposed razor-sharp claw. "Hold still Amy, just make it quick!"

"No!" I swung my hammer and knocked him back a few feet, and then I jumped back and put more distance between us. "I know you're in there Sonic, fight it! If a robot like Gamma could reject his programming, then I have no doubt you can! You're too strong to just let Eggman control you!"

"Shut up!" Sonic charged again, but this time he was much slower and his movements were sloppier, and I was able to sidestep his attack and let him run past me and into the tilt-a-whirl. "Why can't you make this easy?"

I found it in me to smile despite the circumstances. "You're fighting it, I can tell. Don't give up Sonic, I know you can beat him!" But then his robot eye seemed to glow brighter, and he sent a vicious glare that caused my blood to run cold. "Uh oh." Only a second later, I found myself being raised in the air by the throat, as a robotic claw squeezed my throat.

"Just...just stop fighting me, ok Ames? Don't make this harder than it has to be!"

His voice was desperate, and even with his robot hand around my throat, I could feel that his grip was wavering. I could still breathe. "No Sonic, I won't give up and I won't let you give up...I love you too much to do that."

I saw his eyes soften, even his robotic eye looked pitiful now, and he dropped me to the ground and grabbed his head, screaming at the top of his lungs. "This is so wrong! I'm not a killing machine! I'm not some messed up terminator! I am Sonic the Hedgehog!"

"That's right, you are." I raised my hammer over my head. "And now I'm gonna set you free." I jumped up and shouted a battle cry even with tears pouring out of my eyes, and my hammer came crashing down on Sonic's head, crushing his metal skull. After landing, I made my hammer disappear and watched as Sonic's robot eye faded away, signaling that he had been...killed? Destroyed? What even was he anymore? "I'm so sorry Sonic," I whispered to the unmoving form. "We'll get you fixed up and back to normal, I promise."

When I looked back up after wiping my eyes with my arm, I saw Knuckles and Tails limping over to me, their bodies bruised and bleeding from the intensity of the battle. "Are you ok Amy?" Tails asked me even as he held his arm.

"It was him...it was Sonic...Eggman turned him into this...thing."

Tails knelt down and examined Sonic's robot body, and he looked up at me with a small smile. "I can probably fix him, the roboticization process still shows signs of using the same basic principles, just much more refined..." Then he frowned. "But..."

"But what?" Knuckles asked.

"I can fix Sonic and even de-roboticize him after...but...I hate to think how he's going to be after it's all over..."

I frowned and looked down at the broken body of what used to be my one true love. Knuckles seemed confused as to what Tails meant, but I knew. Would Sonic ever be the same again? Even after Tails put him back together and turned him back into flesh and blood...Sonic was one with the wind, a free spirit who could never be caged in...now not only had he been caged in, but he'd been turned against the ones he loved, and he'd witnessed firsthand the damage he caused.

As strong as Sonic was, I knew he wasn't invincible. Even he had his breaking points, and I sincerely feared that this experience would be what drove Sonic past his. But I knew that if it did, I would make sure to be there for him every step of the way on his road to recovery. There was one thing I could tell about Sonic during the past three days, and that was he truly enjoyed being with me, even while he was roboticized. Maybe that was what kept him from giving in to the programming for so long.

It wouldn't be easy, that much I knew for sure. For Sonic, being controlled like this was probably the most traumatic event he could ever experience, and it would be a while before he turned back into his true self. But he would, I also knew that. His strength and determination would make sure he eventually comes to terms with it, and I would be there every step of the way. I vowed then and there to myself, that I would personally make sure he would never know what it was like to be trapped in this machine again.

#sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #sonamy #metal sonic #tails the fox #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #taiream #cream the rabbit #e-vay

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partyanimal167 · 1 year

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Hi! I heard you wanted ideas to write for Law!

I have one! Terribly specific hope thats ok!

How about something along the line of a extreme fluff ? Like Reader helps to nurse the crew back to health after loosing the ship and perhaps during a separation moment ( reader stays behind to fight the marines or something? Up to you!) And then at some point the following exchange happens:

Reader: " its not goodbye, I still want to see the submarine again! "

Law, being carried away by Bepo: " I ... I will find you! I will get you back!"

Reader:" I will be back, for as long as you want me to!"

Maybe a few tears here and there?

Thanks! Hope this helps!

Hi! I appreciate your request. I'm not the best at fluffly moments, but I will try my best. Thank you so much for the details. I'll see what I can do~

See You Later- Law x GN!Reader

CW: fluff, soft moments, comfort, non-graphic action

I'lll be right back okay! Just keep going ahead!

Law would say he was confident in his ability to keep adapting as situations called for it. You have to be when dealing with the Strawhats, of course. However losing your ship, getting ambushed by Marines, and knowing your lover is fighting can cloud one's mind.

It really wasn't supposed to go this way. In a rare spur of luck, the Marines were able to track down the Polar Tang when the crew needed to restock, and the news didn't travel fast enough. Law made the ambitious call to the guys on watch to go out to sea while the rest would wait it out and call for escape when appropriate.

Everyone had been running around with their respective mini groups trying to hide in the shadows and find ways to not draw attention. Things were going well for the first two days, but then more naval reinforcements came. The group was meeting in an abandoned warehouse when the ambush occured.

You wiped a bit of blood from the corner of your lip before putting up your fists again. You scanned the building again--ready for more opponents.

"Captain! I think we're safe for now." Bepo announced aloud.

The group seemed to collectively let out a breath as they saw either knocked out soldiers on the ground or a few retreat in a haste.

Law sheathed his sword. "We need to be cautious. There's no telling when-," the man then sunk onto a knee before going into a coughing fit.

You looked over at him before gasping at the sight of blood on his shirt. "Law, your wound is reopening. We need to get you back to the ship."

Though a knowledgeable doctor, Law was still a stubborn man. He wouldn't leave without being certain that everything would be okay. "I'm fine. We just need to find a new place to hide, and-"

"There's no need to find a place to hide. We need to escape before more Marines come. We're near their base. We'll be safer at sea." you argued.

"But there's no way we're all going to make it out right now. There's too many of us." Law groaned. There was a more reasonable solution, but he wasn't going to consider it.

You, however, weren't going to allow things to drag on. You shook your head. "Some of us can stay while you go on ahead. There's enough of us to hold off our enemies while the others escape to safety."

"I'm not leaving you. As captain, I"

"As a nonmember of the Heart Pirates, I do not care what their captain has to say." you rebutted sternly. It had been one of the things you two talked about in the past. There was always the possibility of a conflict of interest with you onboard. With your life as a outlaw before joining, you knew what to expect. Yet, you couldn't let go of all your freedoms. You didn't really need a reason to bring it up before, but Law needed a reminder. You were not an underling who needed protecting. Moreso, you were looking out even for his greater good.

"Bepo," you stated while giving a strong look.

He seemed to understand what you meant and saluted. "Aye!" he paused and looked at Law, "Sorry Captain!" Law was thrown over the shoulder of his friend which shocked him before arguing.

"Wait! No! Y/n, I'm not leaving you. I'll-," Bepo started running away while a few other members followed.

You smiled gently and waved. "This isn't goodbye at all. I'll see the Tang again."

"I... I will find you! I will get you back! All of you!"

"I'll be back, for as long as you want me to!" You beamed before running out the warehouse in the opposite direction along with Shachi and the others. "Let's keep Law and the crew safe for now."

~~~

You quietly hummed a tune while wringing out a towel. You dampened it fresh hot water before placing it on your patient's forehead.

"...I'm still mad at you."

You chuckled. "I'm sure you are." you continued to redress Law's bandages. "Too bad though, I get to play nurse."

"You shouldn't have done something so reckless."

"I think you forget which one of us had a bigger bounty when we met." you teased.

"I can't lose you." you paused after hearing that confession.

It had been a stressful couple days for Law after separating from you. His group was able to get back on the Tang, but by the time they tried to reach for you, your lot was already engaged in another battle. It took awhile and periods of no communication before it was safe for you to steal a boat and meet the crew out at sea. Law was quick to get the submarine to surface and you all onboard. You were safe with minimal injuries, but it seems you underestimated how much Law worried.

You caressed his cheek and smiled. "That stress is going to put you in a grave before any battle will." you paused and sighed. "You can't get rid of me so easily, Law."

The man scoffed before closing his eyes and enjoying your touch. "You're too stubborn to give up." he joked weakly.

You chuckled, "Precisely why you love me." You then kissed his cheek. "I love you too. I won't let anything go between us."

~~~

Thank you for requesting! I liked how this turned out--simple and sweet. Please share your thoughts. I appreciate you reading this

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #fluff #comfort #gn reader #mine #request #anon #stewie writes #partyanimal167

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armpirate · 4 months

Text

The Only One || JJK || Ch. 43

Pairings: mafia!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, mafia, contract relationship

Warnings: Prostitution, torture, blood, use of drugs and weapons

Summary: You've always wished for a better life. Every single day at work, you were hoping something would change. Although you didn't think that change would come in the form of one mysterious man and a contract.

His controlling and selfish behaviour only wanted to keep you away from any other man that wasn't him, and you only had to wait for him.

Too bad you really thought you'd be smarter than Jeon Jungkook.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 16 minutes

Chapter warnings: Mentions of sex, shooting, blood, wounds

As Y/n got ready for the day, Jungkook looked at her, mesmerized by the way she moved, by how the fabric of her jeans adjusted to the curves of her body the same way his hands did the previous night. Deep in his mind he was afraid of it being the last time he spent that way with her, but he wouldn't say it out loud. At least not by then. Not when she needed his rougher side back to lean on. When she turned to him, buttoning up the last buttons of her lilac blouse, she forced a smile, clouded by the same thoughts and feelings, but hiding them because he also needed her at her best.

They both managed to work on it the best way they could, but at the same time both of them were aware of that small possibility of going wrong. And even if it was something they didn't want to think about, the darkness of the consequences of their future actions was what invaded their heads. The sweet moments, even if minimal, had taken a second place ever since it all started.

She noticed it when he made love to her. It was intimate, it was passionate... but it still had that goodbye feeling that almost made her burst into tears, that were only hidden after he leaned over to kiss her. It was them two, but also the fear of it being the last time.

—You ready? —he peeked over her shoulder, glancing at her through the mirror.

His nervous smile caught her attention, making her smile while nodding.

—I'm so ready for it to end —she sighed—. Especially for something you said.

His eyebrows furrowed at that, taken aback by that sudden response when he wasn't able to remember what she meant. Until she raised her hand, stretching her fingers playfully, showing the reverse of her digits, especially of the ring finger one.

—You promised me a ring —Y/n challenged him, turning on her feet to face him.

—I'll give you all the rings. Everything you want —he assured her—. I always carry out what I promise, you know that.

Gently, her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as she stood on her tiptoes.

—And if in the worst of the cases, you go to jail, don't think you'll get rid of me —she reminded him—. I've heard what they say about convicts and how they work in bed...

—Doll, you won't have to wait for all of that to happen, because it'll be even simpler —Jungkook whispered—. Tonight —he started walking, making her move backwards until her back was resting against the cold wall—, you'll know how it feels to be fucked by a man that has no other worries or thoughts, other than to feel your tight pussy wrapping around my cock.

The bittersweet feeling in her body made her squirm under his grip and smile when her eyes fell on his. Despite the topic of the conversation, her lips covered his ever so gently it was the first time Jungkook felt his knees shaking.

—Remember the plan? —she asked, still rubbing her mouth against his.

—Hmm —he nodded.

—Keep your mind on it —she played with his hair.

—Same goes to you —Jungkook reminded her—. At the minimal change of plans, I want you to leave and get in the car that will be waiting for you. I know it's unlikely, but there's still the possibility of Sanhwa's men being there.

—If they're there, it'll be a total carnage —she murmured.

His thumbs gently rubbed her cheeks, trying to bring back her focus onto himself to give her a reassuring smile.

—I said it's unlikely. I made sure of it.

Sanhwa was peacefully lying on his wide leather armchair, resting his head over the backrest after he thought his family got everything he wanted. The privilege, the power, and the control of everything that was under Bangtan's hand. And all of it thanks to his son, the same one he thought wouldn't be of use and that would ruin his reputation and everything he managed to get through the years.

—Sir, there's someone that wants to speak to you.

His disgusted face should've been enough to make the young boy leave the studio, but he insisted.

—He said he's from Bangtan.

Hearing that name, Sanhwa could only think of two possibilities, and both of them seemed odd, since he moved himself to a second place to allow Sanhyuk to take the lead on the family. Although the person that came in was completely unexpected. His blood stopped running for a few seconds, and his body went cold when he felt he was seeing a ghost.

Well, he indeed was seeing a ghost.

Jungkook stepped inside his office, both hands inside the pockets of his gray slacks as he took a curious look around. That place was as tacky as he remembered it.

—What are you doing here? —Sanhwa inquired, quickly getting up from his chair to adopt a defensive position.

But far from being intimidated or scared, Jungkook smirked. He showed how he was aware that he had the upper hand in that situation, and he hadn't even started speaking yet. It was enough to see how scared the older man was, and how unexpected it was for him to see him there.

—Do you want to do business?

His gray eyebrows furrowed on the upper part of his nose, arms slowly dropping the notebook he was holding, ready to throw it at him.

The situation was quite simple for Jungkook, and it should be for Sanhwa as well. Not supporting Jungho was the easiest decision he could take.

—Do you think I need to make business with you? —he scoffed— I already have everything I need, and you served it on a silver platter. So what else do you have to offer?

Jungkook clicked his tongue, twisting his neck for a brief moment before he felt free to wander around the studio, taking a spot over the cheetah printed double couch.

—In a few, your son will call. He will be arrested in Spain for drug trafficking, prostitution and illegal betting —Jungkook warned him—, because he decided to meet up with an asshole that's under investigation by the police. And he even took with himself documents that prove he is indeed involved in all that shit as a partner —he smirked—. We both know how that prick wouldn't last a day in a place like that —he sighed as he crossed his leg over the other, stretching his arm over the backrest of the velvety fabric—. And it'll be a matter of time until you're under investigation as well, since you're still in the leadership of most of the businesses that are related to the Choi family. It's obvious all those territories you thought you had will be back to us as soon as Sanhyuk calls, but you're still on time to save your son's and your own faces.

Not believing a word that came out of his mouth, Sanhwa simply chuckled, looking away before he sat back on his chair. It had been a good day, and the last thing he needed was being fooled by someone who was closer to losing all of his power.

—You're so done —Sanhwa shook his head slowly—. It doesn't matter if you faked your death, because your father will soon make sure you will be dead for real.

But he wasn't able to say much more, before the ringing sound of the phone at the corner of his desk interrupted his challenging words that he wished he'd have never said when he heard Sanhyuk's trembling voice on the other side.

Jungkook stood up, walking over to him slowly to stop in front of the table.

—I think you're in no position to decline any offer I have to make.

Jungkook smiled at Y/n, playing with her hair as he tried to comfort her.

—I told him I'd send all the documents that would make clear that Sanhyuk's businesses were completely legal only after my father is gone. Doubt he'd risk it.

✸ ✸ ✸

Y/n breathed in deeply, looking over at Namjoon on her right. There were many reasons as to why driving to Jungho's residence was a bad idea. But it was even scarier thinking it was the only way to end with everything.

—Some people are too proud to accept the choice to give up and live —Namjoon broke the silence—. Jungho is one of those people. He still doesn't know his place after you showed up. He's a risk Jungkook doesn't want to take.

—I know —she nodded—. I was aware when Jungkook was forced to fake his death so he'd leave us alone. Thinking of an easier solution to all of this is dumb though —her mouth let out a weak scoff—. Ever since I took over some of his responsibilities, I could understand what goes through Jungkook's head constantly. Always thinking of solutions, problems and death. It's exhausting. We aren't done with Jungho yet, and I'm already thinking of the consequences that could bring putting the Choi family over the edge.

—Doubt they'll do anything —he shrugged, looking away—. You put them in check, and Jungkook found a solution so they wouldn't crumble. They know they now depend on you both. It was a pretty smart move from someone who has just got started on this —Namjoon assured her.

Y/n hopped off the car by herself, assuring Namjoon that everything would be fine after the car stopped in a small villa in the middle of nowhere, thirty minutes away from the city. It was the place where Jungho hid when he wasn't trying to stick his nose in her business. And, at first glance, it didn't seem like the security there was too high. She only counted two men outside, covering the front door.

—Miss —one of her men called her.

—I will get inside by myself —she warned him—. But I need you to get rid of any bodyguard you see. There shouldn't be more than three or four —she thought, considering most of the security sent by Jungho were gone—. I also need you to secure the place. If there's something weird, tell Namjoon. He will stay outside with you. Especially when Jungkook comes. It's crucial he makes it inside alive.

After he bowed, Y/n looked over Namjoon, giving him one last nod before the door of the van closed and she felt completely by herself.

She had been to that place several times, she had met up with Jungho more times than she had wanted to.

But hopefully that time would be the last one.

She got inside the house, crossing the wide wooden door with barely any inconveniences. Unlike the first time she set foot in there, she wasn't asked to leave her gun at the entrance and was able to carry it all the way to the living room.

—It's really nice to see you —Jungho admitted, smiling at her as he stood up from the white couch—. What about...?

—Everything is going according to the plan —she assured him, stepping inside the living room.

—He still thinks I don't know?

—Yeah —she sighed—. He will show up here as if it was a surprise —she fell over the couch in front of him, crossing her legs carefully.

—Betrayed by the person he loves the most —Jungho shook his head, giggling at how everything turned out for his son—. He seriously hasn't learned a thing throughout the years.

Instead of answering back, Y/n gulped, looking away for a moment to recompose herself and get that tough attitude back.

—But you were right: waiting will be completely worth it.

Those minutes until Jungkook did show up were eternal. She could feel her heartbeat racing as the time was getting closer, pacing up to reach her throat with each passing minute. She was convinced she was going to pass out anytime.

Outside, Jungkook made sure everything was as planned. There were no men in sight apart from his, he could even spot two black vans somewhere in the distance as he made his way to the front door. By that point, Y/n should've made sure any weapon to Jungho's reach would be gone, so there would be no risks when he walked inside.

Hearing the laughs and loud voices once he closed the door behind him were an off sign for him. He expected the environment to be tense and uncomfortable, but hearing her being so fluid in conversation -even if it was in a language his father didn't really speak well-, and even laughing off at his jokes, made him frown in confusion.

As he walked, her eyes met with Y/n for a brief second, moving to his father's head that peeked over the backrest of the couch next to the one Y/n was sitting on.

—The special guest is here —he heard from afar—. Why don't you come and join us?

Jungkook stopped on his tracks when he heard his father saying that. He stood there for a few seconds that felt like eternity, wondering what was the next step to take. There was no point in acting like he wasn't there, because Jungho seemed clearly aware of it.

—I told you to come here —Jungho repeated, looking over his shoulder, finally meeting his son's gaze.

As he walked over to them, Jungkook hoped to see some trace of worry or fear in Y/n's eyes, but she was neutral. There was nothing on her face, she was impassive at the fact that everything they feared was happening in front of their noses. She didn't seem surprised in the slightest, and that made him think in the worst case scenario, that he didn't bother to imagine because he couldn't expect something like that from her.

—Hope the game was fun, because it's over —Jungho roughly said, after Jungkook sat a few inches away from Y/n—. Did you really think you'd win against your father using his same strategy?

—What...? You didn't do this, did you?

But Y/n didn't even look at him. She pressed her lips together, playing with her fingers on her lap before she was forced to look back to him as his fingers wrapped around her upper arm.

—Answer me, Y/n —he demanded with a trembling voice.

She almost broke right in that moment, deep diving into the disgusting realization in Jungkook's eyes. He was hurt, showing through his gaze the pain of losing everything as he entered the house.

—I'm sorry —she whispered, moving her arm to let go of his grip.

Everything that seemed done, just started crumbling in his head. Those words made his guts shrink as fury started taking over the sadness at the fact he possibly never had her. But he wasn't angry at her, his own thoughts were setting a battle with himself as they kept finding excuses and reasons to explain why she gave him out like that. Because he was ready to forgive her if she showed the slightest regret.

—You can go now —Jungho mentioned, getting her attention.

Nodding, Y/n kept that scared expression as she stood up, avoiding any type of eye contact with Jungkook.

As he saw her leaving, he was ready to give up on everything. There was no point in fighting, or insisting on having his place somewhere he didn't belong to, because the only place he considered his home didn't even look him in the eyes as she left, walking behind his father. There was nothing to fight for, and he lost the game long before it even started. That was why he sank to his knees in front of his father when he was asked to, closing his eyes when the gun pointed to his head to accept the fate that was presented to him.

He heard the safety of a gun being removed, although it sounded further than what the gun was positioned on. Opening his eyes, he saw everything the same way as it was before he kneeled, with the difference of how straight on the couch his father was sitting on the couch, along with a pissed expression. As he kept looking up, he spotted Y/n holding the gun that he spotted in the back of her jeans.

That scared and regretful expression on her face was long gone, replaced by an arched eyebrow and a spiteful smirk.

—All these years trying to teach a lesson to your son, yet you missed all the red flags —she sighed—. You should never trust a woman that's in love. Drop the gun —she hit the back of his head with the barrel of the weapon.

Heat came back to Jungkook's body when he was aware of what was going on, picking up the gun that Jungho dropped to the floor. All the muscles that seemed to have summoned on his upper back were back to their places when she looked back at him.

Y/n wanted to have as much faith as he did, she wanted to be hopeful for the plan to work out, but in that moment she was thankful she didn't follow some of Jungkook's guidance. There was no better way to control someone than making them think they were in control of the situation. Telling Jungho about Jungkook's situation not only gave them time, but also space to act.

She made him believe she didn't want that position, she convinced him the only place she wanted to be was back in Mallorca with her adoptive family. She gave Jungho a powerful position that filled a savior complex he didn't think he had to help scratch that ego that kept making him feel superior to her. Being overlooked allowed her to move freely, so he wouldn't be alert when she made Sanhyuk move out of their way.

Taking the decision of giving out Jungkook's situation put her in a place where she was forced to live a double life, adopting the second place for the last time in her life.

—Pretty smart —Jungho admitted—. You've isolated me.

—And you know what's the best part? —she stuck the barrel to the back of his head— You're already dead. So it doesn't matter how we kill you. No one will come looking for you.

His upper lip kept raising with rage, twisting his head while he tried to accept the fact that he was played by Y/n and settled for his own ending by his son.

—Okay, I'm able to accept when I've lost —he nodded, slowly getting up and turning to Y/n—. You won't be as bad a leader as I thought... —Jungho paused, tilting his head cockily— too bad you won't see much more of that life.

Her confusion was quickly replaced by panic as he jumped at her, making both of them shoot at the same time. Moving to dodge the penknife, she only avoided it sinking on her chest, receiving a stab on the upper side of her abdomen at the same time her bullet reached his shoulder and Jungkook's crossed his skull.

Jungkook dropped the weapon as soon as he saw his father's body falling to the side, as Y/n was bent over while holding her stomach. The ceramic floor that was white as they entered, started being tinted by red with the several blood drops that went through her clothes and her hand.

His body reacted before his brain was able to work on anything, carrying Y/n outside the building to get on the nearest car as soon as possible. He felt the way her nails dented tried to dent through his clothes as she held onto him, holding back any moans or sobs when the pain on her stomach got hardly bearable.

As he saw them reach the van, Namjoon got out of it confused, turning scared when he noticed the way her lilac blouse was getting darker on her stomach. Jungkook didn't need to say a word, because Namjoon got ahead of him, assuring him he'd take care of the whole situation going on in the villa.

Jungkook's hand covered hers when she rested her head on his lap inside the car, feeling dizzy and weaker with every passing minute.

—We'll have to leave the convict sex for another day —she joked.

Jungkook wasn't in the mood for jokes, not when she was in such a delicate situation and they were so far away from the only doctor he trusted, yet he still found the strength to scoff at her words, earning a smile from her.

—Save that energy for later. You have a lot of explaining to do —he reminded her, playing with her locks.

Y/n smile turned wider when he looked down at her with that serious look. Jungkook just wanted her to keep her energy to keep herself awake until they reached Joonwoon's place.

—I'm sorry for not telling you about the thing with your father —her voice cracked mid-sentence.

—Are you apologizing for that? —he sighed.

—He came one day to the hotel —she ignored him—, and told me someone knew you were alive, and I... I thought admitting it would be better than...

—Stop forcing yourself —Jungkook tried to calm her down—. I can understand why you did it. You did well, Y/n.

It didn't matter how much she tried to focus on his words, or the way the wrinkles on his eyes were showing how concerned he actually was, instead of lighting the fake smile he used to make it easier for her. It didn't matter because she was at the point where she was barely able to lift her hand past his, rubbing her thumb over his tattoos covered in her blood. It didn't matter because, despite her eyelids being so heavy that she couldn't keep them open anymore, she risked it all for the person she loved. She gave in to her tiredness, eager to see him again in a better condition when she opened her eyes again.

Taglist: @kaiparkerwifes @sheylamc @amy2006jones @allamericanuniverse @00frenchfries00 @massivelyfullenthusiast @coralmusicblaze

#fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #mafia!au #The Only One #reader insert #armpirate

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