hiiii everyone!! u guys might remember me or not hehe, but my name is simply or lumine
i wanted to take a moment to say thank you to all of you who’ve supported my blog over the years :) especially during my haikyuu writing phase….😭when I started this blog back in 2020, I was 15 and i had a lot of fun sharing my fanfics and connecting with haikyuu fandom, but now it’s 2024, I’m 19 and my interests have changed (i’m into deathnote….) so basically this blog will be more personal—sharing my thoughts, reblogging and whatever feels right for me at the moment to b so fr LOL
I really appreciate all the love and support you all have given me 😭😭😭😭 my fanfics will be archived but i hope you enjoyed reading them ty to everyone who supported me again 💕
also last thing NO MINORS ON MY BLOG PLSSS I LITERALLY REBLOG FREAKY FANFIC LOL 🔞🔞🔞
Note: This is list was made by me and my irl friend. Feel free to use them for your own fics! Mention your whumptober masterlists in the comments too <3
these fics may not be as long as my other fics since i'm trying to get one out everyday. its a daunting task, juggling this with work so pls bear with me.
as always, likes and comments appreciated. do let me know of your thoughts on my works!
General Warnings for Whumptober fics:
These fics may contain themes of physical and psychological trauma, injury, captivity, violence, torture, betrayal, mental health struggles, abuse, and emotional distress.
Reader discretion is advised.
May contain character deaths or even reader!deaths. I will not be mentioning them in the summary so pls be ready for the angst
Most of these are centered around angst/no comfort
someone needs to write a fanfic of giving deku the sloppiest, grossest most nastiest fkin blowjob to teacher deku with his stupid glasses, and his tight ahh jeans mmmmm fAWK BRO I WANT HIM SO BADDDD
Out of all the boys who’s the biggest giver (oral) and who’s the most rewarding receiver (best reaction/noises)
a/n: anon I’mma eat your butt for this. Also I had started writing this and the app crashed, making me lose progress. So that’s why I kinda postponed on it— I got lazy😣 this is how I feel btw. Thank you for this!
BIGGEST GIVERS
SUGAWARA KOUSHI.
The sweetest boy you know, with the best talent there is to offer. He can make you feel good alone with just his tongue and lips, but when he pulls out the finger + tongue combo? oh my, he never lets you live down the fact you squirted ALL over his face. He leaks precum and feels his dick twitching in his high quality khaki pants from just eating you out. He never neglects your clit. Whenever he stops sucking on it to stick his tongue inside you or kiss your lips, he uses his free fingers to rub baby circles into that ball of nerves.
TENDOU SATORI.
Have y’all not seen those fingers? Everything about him is long. His limbs, dick, fingers and even his tongue. I mean he can lick you back and forth from your asshole to your clit barely moving his head that much. He BURIES his face into your pussy, like he’s tryna sniff it if I’m being honest with you. Him sticking his tongue inside you is no different from fingering you with those freakishly long fingers the gods gave him. Honestly, he eats pussy for fun. Like whenever he’s bored he looks at you with that smile and slaps his hand on your thigh before giving you THAT look. I love him
TANAKA R. (I’m too lazy to spell his full name)
He eats your pussy AGGRESSIVELY. Like growling into your folds as he sucks and nibbles on the meaty part of your pussy. You tell him to slowdown (cause you don’t wanna cum too quick even though this is his nth time making you squirt it under an hour or two.) he’s not very good with his fingering skills or with his finger at all so you have to tell him to RELEASE your clit because he’s pressing down on it like an elevator button.
MATSUKAWA ISSEI.
Him eating pussy while he’s high? Double kill. He doesn’t even need to be high to eat pussy good, AT ALL. Girl he doesn’t even need to dirty talk you to get wet, his presence and them damn eyes is enough to soak your VS panties. He’s so slow and sensual with it, you’d think he’s making love to your coochie and not YOU cause atp, your pussy has its own mind 💔 that’s exactly how you end up in this position: legs spread, looking down at him while he’s looking up at you..practically French kissing your wetness.
KUROO TETSUROU.
Eats pussy just like matsukawa and Tanaka combined, depending on how he’s feeling really. He eats pussy from the back and the front, the side as well. Will literally put you against a wall and eat your pussy while your face is damn near an inch away from getting cut by the ceiling fan.
DAISHOU SUGURU
He looks like a snake, moves like one to. In bed and out 😫 licks shapes into your clit and WILL stick his whole tongue in that ahh and pussy. I think he likes girls with a fat cat, not talking about plump lips in this case. I mean meaty, some would call it “roast beast”
Daichi and asahi prolly eat ass so I’m not gone put them here I just wanted to make it known..
HONORABLE MENTIONS FOR BIGGEST GIVERS.
TERUSHIMA (that dang tongue piercing.) TSUKISHIMA KEI. yamamoto. KONOHA. TUH..COACH UKAI?!&)373. My glorious BLACK KING ARAN OJIRIO
BEST RECEIVERS.
YAMAGUCHI TADASHI.
I MEAN ATP YALL KNEW I HAD TO ADD MY MAN. His moans are ethereal they make you wanna give him more and frankly they make you wet yourself. They would need to put a chastity belt on us to keep tadashi safe after giving him head and he’s MOANING LIKE THAT. Theyre more of whimpers than moans but when no one’s at home sometimes he’ll let loose sometimes he won’t. But you beg him to moan, this is a judge free zone😫
MIYA TWINS. (Not miyacest you weirdos, I didn’t feel writing them separately.)
Specifically Atsumu, he whines like a little 🐕. I have to use emojis to speak less vulgar but you guys know what I mean by that, right?! Anyways, he grins, moans and groans at the smallest of touches but when he’s getting deepthroated? His face is scrunched up and his mouth is slack, trying his damndest not to pull your hair. Now, osamu— he tries so hard to suppress those pretty noises but it’s honestly no use💔 he lets out a yelp of joy and cries tears of pleasure he cums down your throat.
BOKUTO KOUTAROU.
He screams. And I mean HOLLERS when he’s about to nut and he’s the one fucking your face half the time?? So like😭 does he cry? Yes. Is he overstimulated? It doesn’t matter cause you could lick the precum dribbling down his dick rn in one swipe and he’d still whine. Seeing a big man like that cry from getting his dick and balls sucked on SEPARATELY is something I’d slap my grandma for.
PRINCESS KAWA.
He can barely eat pussy to save his life, his only field of expertise is dicking you down. So when you’re gobbling him up after he won a game? I mean he’s still sweaty, sore and trying to catch his breath and you have a spit bubble forming from sucking his dick..he’s gonna be loud— whining. No passerby’s ears are safe😭
KENMA KOZUME.
He’s mastered silencing his moans when you’re sucking him off because you usually do it in the dead of night when Theres company next door or when he’s in the middle of an online tournament. Let’s just say, hypothetically, he was to put the games down and try to rest but you were needy, and he was exhausted and so he’s bringing the covers up to you swallowing his dick whole..in one piece. It’s like 11pm..early as hell for Kenma to be laying down— and he looks under the covers to see you bobbing your head on his pretty cock. He’s moaning and the sensation but more so at the sight.
Shoyo and noya are no better than bokuto. Their vocal cords are prolly still the same— high pitched and cracked so when they’re getting their dick rubbed or massaged theyre already bucking their hips into your touch and mouth if you decided to get wet today. They have no control over their mind, voice or body when you touch them.
HONORABLE MENTIONS FOR BEST RECEIVERS.
SUGAWARA OFC. Fukunaga. IWAIZUMI. Suna, KUNIMI?!, Kuroo has his moments to..along with tendou. TAKEDA. ASAHI (good god)
I would put Kageyama but he’s such a nervous wreck post and pre-timeskip he wouldn’t know when or how to get loud when he feels pleasured.
desc ;; the house felt empty after you realized most of the dateables, and the only one who remained is your singular hate ending — Mac.
when you decide to hold an x-rated show for your lovers to watch, mac is forced to sit through your livestream and come to terms with the fact they might be enjoying it. however, an unexpected injury causes them to act on their desire prematurely.
tw + tags ;; nsfw. minors dni. smut, objectification, vaginal fingering, voyeurism, exhibitionism, squirting, minor injuries, slight choking, nipple play, mutual masturbation, degradation & praise. plus, the dateables thirsting in the chat.... (wc: 11.5k)
The house which was once brimming with life and teeming with energy, is now left exactly the way it was before — barren and empty. Although it brought you great joy to Realize all your dateable companions, and witness how their true lives unfold outwith the confines of your home, truthfully it left you feeling a tad lonely.
More lonely than before you were even introduced to the Dateviators, since back then you were occupied with your job at Valdivian, but now you are unemployed, with even more time to wallow in isolation. Plus, after experiencing what it’s like to have a wildly active social life from the comfort of your own home, it’s like you are going through the listless phase of coming down from the ultimate high.
And to top it all off, the only Dateable in the whole damn house you weren’t able to Realize, was Mac. Fucking Mac.
Things have been tense between the two of you ever since you declined their software upgrade and refused to delete all your erotic self-insert fanfic. They claimed you were being selfish and you called them an overbearing piece of scrap metal — it was a heated confrontation. Unsurprisingly, you got a Hate Ending with them, which you had no issue with and found to be a fitting conclusion to your fleeting correspondence.
However, that is only because at the time, you didn’t fully understand the weight of your actions. When Skylar and Tinfoilhat informed you that you could start Realizing objects and bringing them to life — like, real life — you were elated. Not only because you couldn’t wait to see your favourite lovers thrive and explore the world, but also largely due to the fact you couldn’t wait to get that self-centred desktop out of your house.
Oh, but you were sorely mistaken.
Now, you have to go through your days with a heavy heart, and deeply missing all your sweet lovers who you’ve Realized. While also putting up with their snarky comments and all-round unpleasant demeanour whenever you want to use your computer.
In fact, you’ve strayed away from doing lots of tasks that require using your PC, in favour of other means. For instance, you’d really only play video games that were available on your console, and of course you’d do most of your browsing on your phone. All your job applications were sent via your phone too, because the last time you tried to use Indeed with Mac, instead of attaching your CV, they ‘accidentally’ submitted documents containing your lewd fanfic.
But, your latest idea rendered Mac’s assistance compulsory. Thus, you find yourself cautiously approaching your computer, biting back any insults brewing in your mind and carefully taking a seat in your chair. When you turn them on to the interface, you’re immediately met with hostility.
“Oh, you again.” They tut, rolling their eyes, gaze hardly faltering from the holographic terminal that is hovering in front of them.
“Well, you are my computer. In my house. So, yeah, it’s me again.” You retort hastily. However, as soon as you notice how rude you sound, and the affronted expression on Mac’s face, you immediately clear your throat and soften your tone, “Uhm, anyway. I was just wondering if you could help me with something.”
Mac chuckles in a mocking way, pushing their glasses up their nose, “My help? Like how you helped me update my operating system?”
Exhaling sharply through your nose, you bite back a nasty remark and recall how you prepared for this interaction. “Yeah, about that.” You start, pleasantly surprising yourself with how calm you sound, “I gave it some thought. If you help me with this idea, I’ll finally update your software.”
Their eyes widen when you say that, and their whole body freezes. Despite originally being too consumed in typing to pay you much attention, the projected image suspended in front of them suddenly disappears, as they turn to you and stammer, “R—Really? Are you serious?”
“Sure. I’ll even delete my fanfic or transfer it to a hard-drive, if that’s what it takes to get you that update.” You speak plainly, watching as stars fill their eyes. Hence, before they get too hopeful, you’re quick to clarify, “But only if you agree to help me with my idea, and promise not to humiliate me like you usually do.”
“Humiliate you? When have I ever done that?” They huff, and you’re unsure if they are being sarcastic, but in case they are genuinely asking, you feel the need to remind them.
“Like when I was job hunting and you sent in the wrong files with my application? Or how about when I was video chatting with my parents and you started playing fart sound effects?”
Mac’s jaw stiffens upon remembering both of those instances; they completely forgot how juvenile and petty they can be at times. Although, admittedly, it was extremely gratifying in the moment — seeing the person they hate the most writhe with embarrassment was so entertaining. But again, in retrospect perhaps it wasn't the kindest thing to do. “Well, your parents did seem to find it funny—”
“Mac!”
“—But I can see how that must’ve upset you. And for that, I apologise. I’ve not forgiven you for the way you treated me before, but I think I’m willing to be professional — just this once — and put our differences aside until the end of your project. Do we have a concordance?”
A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You still dislike Mac and find them grating, but at the very least, you’re glad to be on the same page. A part of you was afraid that your animosity towards each other would prevent you from being able to execute your budding idea, but luckily they’re being reasonable about this. “That sounds great, Mac. Thanks for not being difficult.” You stick your hand out for them to shake, and although they skeptically raise a brow at first, after you gesture for them to shake it once more, they relent and give your hand a firm squeeze.
Smiling, you aggressively drag the palm of your hand against the fabric of your shirt, as though you are trying to rid it of germs, and Mac simply rolls their eyes — fully anticipating you’d do something annoying sooner or later. “Just to be clear, this doesn’t make us friends. I still despise you, I’m just working with you until my software is upgraded.” They say with stern resolve, and before you’re able to agree, they continue, “Speaking of which, what exactly is that we’ll be working on? What’s this ‘idea’ of yours that you keep mentioning?”
Your eyes light up at the question, and you begin to proudly explain, “Well, I’m glad you asked, my RBG friend—”
“I just said I’m not your friend.”
“I know, it’s just a figure of speech. Quit being so pedantic.” You grumble, but instantly find your enthusiastic groove again, “Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I had an amazing idea to combat the loneliness I’ve been experiencing since all the dateables were Realized. Basically, I—”
“Not all the dateables.” Mac cuts in once more, grandly motioning to themselves.
“Unfortunately not.” You say through gritted teeth, growing tired with their constant interruptions, but you try your best not to let it show since you know that they are only doing it to piss you off. “What I meant to say was, ever since all the tolerable dateables were Realized, I’ve been pretty lonely.” You pause, waiting for them to add whatever snide comment they plan on making, but when you look at them, awaiting their input, they simply stare back at you with an unamused face. Thus, you take that as a sign to keep talking.
“To combat this, I’ve scheduled a livestream for tomorrow night, where all the dateables — who are in possession of a phone or computer with internet access — can log in and watch me.. Y’know. They’ll be able to leave comments and stuff, and just knowing that they are out there somewhere in the big world, still choosing to watch me, will strengthen our connections.”
You stumble over your words during your explanation, but once you’re done, you grin cheesily at Mac and foolishly expect a positive response. Instead of praising you for your innovative idea, they just tilt their head and ask, “Alright. And what will they be watching you do?” The smirk playing on their lips demonstrates to you that they already know what you mean, but they just want to hear you say it.
“Uh, y’know. Stuff.” You shrug, adamant against giving them the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.
“Right. ‘Stuff’.” They nod along understandingly, “So if it’s just ‘stuff’, I assume you’ll have no problem with me selecting to host this livestream on a public platform like Twitch. Where anyone who is interested could potentially tune in to witness your ‘stuff’.”
“Uh, no! No, that— uhm, that won’t work. It’s private stuff. I only want the dateables to see. You understand that, Mac?” Your fingers clasp together and a heat rises to your cheeks. The thought of strangers being able to watch made you as flustered as Mac had hoped.
“Affirmative. Loud and clear.” It’s almost as though they are fighting to suppress a laugh, and all you can do is avert your eyes in shame and stammer, “G—good. I’ll be back tomorrow at 9PM, and you better have set up the private livestream with all the dateables. Kapeesh?”
They nod, and with that confirmation, you let out an exasperated sigh as you get up from your chair, trudging towards the door. Right before you exit, you call out behind you, “And don’t try anything funny, okay? If you disappoint me, you won’t be getting your software update. Hope I’ve made myself clear.” And with that, the door slams shut behind you.
➛➛➛
Mac couldn’t shake the thought of you touching yourself on camera.
Which was annoying. Infuriating, even. You’re the most self-centred and abrasive person they have the displeasure of knowing; the mere sight of you makes their CPU boil. So why did the image of your fingers stuffed inside your pretty hole take up so much free real estate in their mind — perverse images completely clogging up their RAM.
To be clear, they have no interest in seeing you without your clothes on; they already detest seeing you even when you’re fully clothed. There is just something about the prospect of you masturbating in front of them that positively turns them on, even when they’re supposed to be in sleep mode. It’s probably just basic human nature, they reassure themselves. Like you, they’ve been alone for so long now that all the others have been Realized, that they have perhaps become hyper-sensitive to any sexual notions — even ones involving the bane of their existence.
Yes, that makes sense. There are even research studies on it. If you isolate any creature for long enough, they’ll become desperate enough to search for release in places that they wouldn’t normally turn to. Indeed, solitude can become a tortuous experience, which is the whole reason Mac was laid on the desk, unable to catch a moment of rest due to your imaginary moans echoing through their head.
➛➛➛
The following night, you hesitantly pad into your office, poking your head round the door as if you don’t know what will be on the other side. To your delight, there is nothing out of the ordinary. Mac is situated next to your desk, typing away on their own interface until they notice your arrival. Their screen then disappears as they turn to you and say, “Oh, hey.”
You smile, stepping out from behind the door and fully entering the room, revealing what you are wearing in the process. All you have on is a fluffy blue robe, it has full sleeves but the length only reaches your mid-thigh. You’ve had it on since your shower earlier on in the day, however you opted not to change out of it, despite your hair being fully dry by now. Something about it causes Mac’s CPU cooler to stutter, but they reassure themselves it has nothing to do with the way you look, but rather is probably a glitch caused by their outdated software.
Still, they collect themself with a deep breath, then say, “I’ve set up the private livestream. Most of the dateables have logged in and are waiting for the show to start.”
“Most?” You ask, strolling towards your office chair to take a seat. Mac thought their processors could handle the sight of you in that robe, but when you sit down and it rides up until the pale fabric is barely covering your ass, they start to question their sanity.
Still, they choke down their doubts and croak, “Yeah. A few of them weren’t able to make it. Like Keith, for some reason. But it’s still a pretty sizable audience.” They clear their throat, finding their confidence when they see how intimidated you look, “Your camera is on. Are you ready to do your ‘stuff’ in front of almost a hundred people?”
You glance at the screen; the show hasn’t started yet but you can see yourself in the corner of the monitor, displaying what you look like on your webcam. It’s a pretty fuzzy visual, since the top lights in the room aren’t on, the only source of illumination is a single candle Mac has lit for you, and the PC brightness. “Do I look okay, Mac?” You ask, voice barely over a whisper.
“I think you look— uhm, objectively terrible.”
Your lips press together, meeting their eyes for a solemn moment, “Do you think this is a mistake?” There isn’t an ounce of insincerity in your voice, and your words are heavy with doubt.
Mac’s eyes widen at your abrupt inquiry. They open their mouths to say something, then close it and furrow their brows to visibly process your question. “No. I don’t.” They state with conviction, “The idea lacks forethought, but as is the case with most of the things you do.”
They shrug, and don’t seem to react to the growing dread painted on your face, “Forethought? What does that mean?”
“I’m just saying it’s a bold choice to share yourself with almost all your friends and lovers at once. Letting them see the most intimate parts of you.” Their words cause your heart rate to quicken and fear to churn in your stomach. Detecting your increased worry, they elaborate, “It’s risky but it’s you. And they all seem to adore you, for some strange reason.”
Your expression softens at their reasoning. As much as you hate to admit it, they are right. Truly you’re never more comfortable than you are when you’re with your furniture friends; a lot of them have already seen you while you're messy, nude or worse. Therefore, there is no point in being ashamed or apprehensive, in fact you should revel in the opportunity to be so close with them all once more.
“Thank you, Mac.” You say, grateful for their insight.
Mac blinks, then sheepishly adjusts their glasses. From those lovey-dovey eyes that you’re staring at them with, they get the sense that you might be perceiving them fondly, which they are hasty to shut down, “You’re welcome. If I wasn’t clear, I think you should do the livestream. The whole thing will be testament to your poor decision-making skills.”
You huff out a laugh, then relax back into your chair, gazing at Mac with half-lidded eyes. “Well, I think I’m ready to begin my poor decision. If you’d do the honours, Mac?”
They nod firmly, and with a single click of their mouse, the entire display on your monitor switches. Now, you are shown in the centre of the screen, with a black panel on the left side. It baffles you at first, until you see messages begin to pour in and populate the panel, which immediately puts you at ease.
Betty (snugasabug): it’s been so long sweetie. you look gorgeous.
“Oh, hey, guys!” You wave eagerly at the camera. It’s a shame you can’t see them all, but it’s almost as though you can hear their voices in your head as you read their comments. Plus, having almost a hundred people in a call at once would probably get overwhelming fast.
“I’ve missed you all so so much.” You clasp your hands together in delight, eyes darting over the many comments that are flooding your screen. It is getting hard to keep up with the rate at which they are all typing.
Dante (BllazingInfferno): Hey, hot stuff! You’re looking nice in that robe ;)
Friar (DevoteeOfConvection): Repent.
Sophia (XNDHKDJ): Hello, wretch. Are you wearing that for me?
Sophia (XNDHKDJ): I’m watching this from a barn in the Faroe Islands. My signal might drop.
“Thank you for the compliments. I hope you’re all having a nice day wherever you are. I’m grateful for the time you’ve taken out of your days to spend with me.” You hum, making a heart with your hands and sending much virtual love to your furniture companions. While Mac just grunts and rolls their eyes at how sickeningly sweet you are. “Oh, and that’s fine, Sophia. I will just re-accept you into the livestream if that happens.”
Sophia (XNDHKDJ): Still as obedient as ever.
Gaia (_Global_Superstar): Faroe Islands! I was just there a couple weeks ago. What’re the chances?
Hector (Masked00Man): You look.. breathtaking, my love.
Mac props their elbow on the edge of their wheelchair, and covers the lower half of their face with their hand, muttering into their palm, “Ugh, so mawkish.”
After briefly narrowing your eyes at them, you return your attention to the stream, basking in all the positive comments and kind messages from your lovers. Just reading them already started to fill the despondent void within you, sending a rush of warmth coursing through your chest.
Amir (DazzleMyDear): You’re radiant, azizam. I’ve missed your stunning reflection.
Dolly (DrDollyPhD): Hey there, pretty girl !! Long time, no see.
Cam (TrashLordCam): Take the robe off.
Although, all the flirty remarks, paired with the concept of so many eyes on you at once, causes you to tense under the pressure slightly. You bashfully avert your gaze from the camera when it becomes too much, and fidget with the bottom edge of your robe, as if you are feebly trying to cover yourself more, but that is evidently futile. When Mac notices the flustered mannerisms, they can’t help but snicker.
Muting your mic on your behalf, they taunt, “What’s got you all shy? I thought this is what you wanted.”
You furrow your eyebrows at their unwanted interruption, but they pose an interesting question, so you entertain it for just a moment, “I— uh, you’re right. I did want this. I suppose I’m just not used to all this attention at once.” Mac raises an eyebrow, and when you can see a cocky look forming on their face, you’re quick to wipe it clean off by saying, “But it’s definitely something I could get used to.”
Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you lean forward and manually unmute your microphone, “Sorry about that, everyone. Just a weird little glitch.” You shoot Mac daggers at Mac out of the corner of your eyes, “It won’t happen again.” They gape at your sudden austerity — it is a shocking contrast to your previous coy demeanour — but truthfully, it did turn them on a little.
Lucinda (Ms_Lavish): There’s my good girl. Missed me, baby? Xx
Doug (YoyoDoug69): You’re hot. Show us your tits.
Cam (TrashLordCam): Take the robe off.
Jean Loo (LilCrapperPissoir): Lil Crapper is back, man! And he agrees with the trash can…
Ben-Hwa (Built4YourPleasure): ^^^^
You bite your lip and gulp; you’re afraid that you don’t have the heart to tell Jean Loo that his time as an accountant has taken a serious toll on his rap game. Regardless, you quickly brush that thought out of your mind in favour of focussing on the sudden sultry shift the livestream chat has taken. Seems like you aren’t even half as lonely and pent-up as some of these motherfuckers.
“Damn, it’s straight to business with you guys, huh?” You giggle, amused by their messages yet flattered at how they are hyping you up. It makes you feel so wanted and seen in a way you haven’t experienced in a while. Toying with the fluffy belt of your robe, you hum, “Not that I’m criticising you. I did promise you a show. So, are you ready to start?”
Bobby (MetalPinn): Yes! 10%
Hanks (TheHankers555): YES!!!!!!!
Skips (xxXShadowL0rd420Xxx): yeh
Bobby (MetalPinn): Shit I meant 100%
Mac’s dark eyes are fixed on where your hands wrap around the belt of your robe, watching intently as your fingers loosen the knot at an excruciatingly slow rate. They are so transfixed on the process and are practically salivating at the mere thought of your cute nipples being fully exposed, so they don’t realise how overt they are being. They only snap out of their trance when you abruptly pause to titter, and when they look up at your face, they see your laughter is directed at them. On reflex, they immediately jerk their head aside and use their hand to cover the deep blush creeping across their cheeks, but that only makes it even more obvious that they were ogling in the first place.
As your laughter dies down, Mac keeps their eyes glued to the books on the opposite wall, not daring to even glance in your direction. That is, until you softly call out their name, “Mac..” Your voice barely above a sensual whisper. When they feel your fingers touch their knee, their head instinctively whips around to face you, and that’s when they see you’ve fully discarded your robe and are sitting completely nude in front of the camera. Still, despite all the viewers watching, you say directly to them, “It’s fine. I’d like it if you..” Your lips subconsciously curl into a smile, “Keep your eyes on me.”
And you seriously don’t have to ask them twice. They gulp, and hesitantly nod, doing a sufficient job of concealing their eagerness. But what you’re not seeing under the surface, is Mac’s CPU overheating and their coolers fighting for their lives to prevent their internal components literally melting. Those nipples are just as cute as they imagined; it took everything in their system to keep them from leaning forward and asking for a taste. And when their eyes venture downwards, over your perfect waist, they are introduced to the alluring dip where your sex is. They can’t see very many details — barely even your v line — as it is obscured by your plump thighs, pressed together.
God, you are such a tease.
Just another reason why Mac finds you unbearable. Your tongue pokes out of your mouth for just a moment as you nervously scan the chat, but a bright grin overcomes your features when you’re met with an overwhelmingly horny delighted reaction. All the compliments and sweet words about your naked body fill you with such comfort; which is invaluable, especially when you’re being so vulnerable with them.
Hector (Masked00Man): You’re so beautiful, dearest. Thank you for allowing us to behold your stunning form. You’re a divine gift on this earth.
Doug (YoyoDoug69): Nice tits.
Shelley (ShelleyUh_Huh): HOT, you been workin out? ;D
Tyrell (TidyTyrell): I swear they looked at me first!!
Dolly (DrDollyPhD): So pretty, honey. I could just eat you up.
Cam (TrashLordCam): Gunna spread your legs or what?
Tony (LoveExpertTony): DAMN YOU LOOK SEXY 10/10 RACK 👍👍🔥🥵
Some are awfully benign and make your heart skip a beat, while others are slightly more crude. Although, with how much you adore your eccentric lovers, nothing they could say now would turn you off — in fact, the more objectifying comments cause your clit to quiver with excitement. It feels good to be appreciated, and it is titillating to know that they all remain anxious to see you.
“Thank you for being so nice.” You murmur, hand idly roaming your body. First you explore the expanse of your chest, groping your plush tit and pinching your nipple slightly; the electric shocks of pleasure hit you at once, but you bite down on your bottom lips to muffle your moans.
Your hand continues to trail down your body, over your stomach, then under it to worm between your thighs. You glance at the screen, then at Mac, who seems to be hyperfocused on the point at which your hand disappears between your legs, waiting with bated breath for the reveal. It is so interesting to witness them in this state; usually they want absolutely nothing to do with you, but now they can't take their eyes off you.
Not wanting to leave them in suspense for too long, your hand applies pressure to one of your thighs and gradually spreads them, exposing your damp pussy to the camera. You’re already pretty wet due to the spicy comments, and Mac’s overt leering really isn’t helping. Unable to stop yourself, your fingers naturally draw towards your clit and start to rub sluggish circles over it.
“Mmph..” A small whine escapes your lips, and it’s simply music to Mac’s ears. Their eyes are glued to your pussy, admiring your glistening folds and watching carefully as you stroke your clit. Not to mention your tight hole that is made visible once you reposition yourself slightly on the chair. So fucking perfect. They hear a hushed snicker, and they finally pry their intense stare away from your pussy to meet your eyes, which is when they notice that you haven’t been concentrating on the livestream chat like they thought, but instead your attention has been fully focused on them.
Yet, instead of chiding or taunting like they thought you would, you simply smile. And they can’t help but smile back.
When your affectionate gaze eventually parts from Mac, you’re met with an influx of risque messages in your livestream chat:
Skips (xxXShadowL0rd420Xxx): oh my fucking god
Beau (BOXEATRLOL): I want a taste…
Friar (DevoteeOfConvection): Great heavens!!!
Lucinda (Ms_Lavish): There she is. Been missing those cute noises, baby Xx
Sophia (XNDHKDJ): So wet for your mistress already, wretch?
Your cunt only gets wetter from all the validation and praise. While one hand circles your clit, the other latches onto your nipple, tweaking it for added pleasure. Shallow breaths stagger out of you, and you find yourself relaxing even further into the chair than you thought to be possible. “So good..” It’s satisfying indeed but moderate clit stimulation alone isn’t enough to satiate you, not tonight. Not when your hole is already dripping with hunger, begging to be filled.
Inflating your lungs with air, you slide your middle finger down between your damp folds and graze your entrance, the electrifying anticipation causing you to heave out a broken sigh. Your hole is so wet, and this fact is only emphasised by the unforgiving light of the PC screen, casting a severe glare over your cunt and showing all your viewers just how desperate you are.
You’re not able to cope with much more foreplay before the urge becomes too immense and you’re forced to push your middle finger right past your tight entrance, into your sopping hole. As you do so, you let out a soft whimper and allow your neck to go slack with relief, tipping your head back against the chair as your eyes flutter shut. You relish in the sensation for a moment, before you move to intensify it by slipping another finger straight in there, accompanied by a stifled moan. “Nghh..” Your voice quivers, and the congestion in your pussy causes your shoulders to briefly stiffen, “I’ve be— I’ve been waiting to do this for so long.”
Mac must’ve pierced their bottom lip from biting into it too hard, because it throbs with a dull pain whenever they touch it now. Along with the metallic taste of blood — or is that coolant? — that drips into their mouth and coats their front teeth. But their jaw is so tense from watching you; they have to bite into something to cope with the extreme desire and libido that is rushing through their CPU. They opt for their nails, which seem like the next best option.
Fuck, they feel like such a loser. Watching you lazily pump your fingers into that pretty pussy, and scrutinising the way your hole froths around them with each movement. Up until now they’ve done such a good job of feigning disinterest in you, solely to prove a point, yet they are throwing all that effort away simply because they are too fucking horny to look elsewhere. Clearly they are willing to sacrifice their morals, and their hatred for you, for a quick dopamine hit.
But can you really blame them? Everything isn’t just ones and zeroes anymore; they’ve got human-like urges now. And you seem to appeal to all of those primitive desires that their homosapien brain has programmed them to seek: your tits with those cute nipples; your moans that just lure them in like the most libidinous siren-call; your pretty face which is currently contorted in an obscene manner; and finally, that tight cunt they’d do anything to try for themself.
It somewhat reassures them to know that they aren’t the only one who feels this way. Far from it, in fact, there are currently around 90 dateables vying to tell you just how badly they need you:
Ben-Hwa (Built4YourPleasure): when is it my turn?? ;)
Friar (DevoteeOfConvection): This is indecent! How do I report?
Skips (xxXShadowL0rd420Xxx): so tight o.O
Dirk (DxrtyLaundry): damn i miss that hole….
Dirk (DxrtyLaundry): and you too but mostly the hole
Stepford (WeinerTriumphant): Is it just me or is she moaning my name 😍🥰
Eddie (BreakherB0x): It’s just you
Beau (BOXEATRLOL): Wish that was my tongue
You are only able to catch glimpses of the chat for the short duration you can hold your heavy eyelids open. For the most part, they keep falling shut due to the dull pleasure stirring in your abdomen, sourced from your two fingers inserted into your cunt. They pump wearily, but from all the motivation you receive, they start to move faster, picking up the pace until there is a vulgar squelching noise with each thrust.
If they could, they’d pounce on you right now and beg to finger you. They just know they’d make that stupid pussy feel so fucking good, better than your worn fingers can, any day. You’d be begging to cum in just a couple minutes, and of course, Mac would say no over and over. Edging you until you’re melting in their hands. Shit, they want to touch you so bad. But they can’t even ask: you said it yourself, they can’t interfere with your livestream, otherwise you won’t update their software. So, why is it so hard for them to exhibit self-restraint?
Your eyes roll back into your head and a chorus of airy moans string from your throat. “Mmph— fuck.” You curse, pursing your lips slightly. A heavy bliss toils in the pit of your stomach, bulging with each lazy thrust into your cunt. Truthfully, your own fingers aren’t big enough nor skilled enough to satisfy you on par with some of your lovers. However, you do know a thing or two about making yourself feel good. Plus, you’ve been so repressed lately that any amount of stimulation is sufficient. “Ngh!” A high-pitched whine escapes you, “Hah— ‘m so— I can’t..”
Sophia (XNDHKDJ): Pathetic little wretch.
Lucinda (Ms_Lavish): That’s it, baby. You got it. Xx
Cam (TrashLordCam): I’m gunna lick those fingers clean
Hoove (HankeesFan781): C’mon , I know you can be louder than that ;)
Betty (snugasabug): you’re doing so so well, cutie
Mac can’t pry their eyes away. Their stare is locked to your drooling cunt, zeroed-in on where your hole engulfs your two digits, foaming around them and stretching with each sloppy movement. It is such a lewd sight. Especially when your free hand sensually runs down your stomach, massaging your inner thigh then daring to reach for your clit. They are chaste, fleeting touches at first but it isn't long before it devolves into brazen rubbing and pinching. Your whole lower body rhythmically bucks against your hands, seeking the maximum amount of passion.
Some time during this, Mac’s own hand must’ve slipped under the USB Port belt of their trousers, and they are now shamelessly stroking themself as they watch you. It’s like they didn’t even realise they were doing it until their hand was already stuffed down their pants. Fuck, they're undeniably hypnotised by you. Yet, when they snap back to reality and notice they are getting off, they can’t bring themself to stop. Perhaps it is the lust-hazed decision making or maybe their CPU is clouded with unadulterated horniness, but they couldn’t see the harm in it. You are touching yourself in front of them, so why would the reverse be a big deal? Plus, everyone at home is undoubtedly getting off too.
Ben-Hwa (Built4YourPleasure): just like that babe
Tony (LoveExpertTony): OH YEAH 🥵
Doug (YoyoDoug69): typuinhs 5hiss with one hanf lol
You don’t seem to take any note of what Mac is doing. You are far too concentrated on your own pleasure; the knot within you is swelling and hardening with each eager pump into your aching hole. It is evident by your restless legs and trembling breaths that you are nearing your orgasm, but on your own, pushing yourself over that final hurdle felt like an excruciating and almost impossible task. Even with the pads of your fingers fervently gyrating against your clit.
And of course, all your viewers pick up on this fact too. Most of them have seen you climax before and a handful of them have made you cum so many times that they’ve learned the tell-tale signs. Plus, you aren’t shy about it either. Your fingers continue to rapidly drive into your cunt, while your head lays limp against the back of the chair and you groan, “Mmph— shit.” You gasp, frantically chasing your high, not letting up for even a moment. “ ‘m so close.. Oh god, this is— nggh!”
Your blabbering is so cute. Mac had just started so they aren’t even close to finishing yet but admittedly, seeing you so wanton and desperate really ignites a molten spark within them. They can tell from the way you wildly fingerfuck yourself, and how you’re now using the whole heel of your palm to rub your clit that you need this, badly. And you can’t have it. Your whiny cries and endless whinging make that obvious. Mac delights in witnessing this unexpected turn of the tables; you wanting something so much but it’s just barely out of reach. They almost feel sorry for you.
“Please, please, please, please..” You plead to the air around you, relentlessly fingering yourself, “I’m— so so close. Fuck, I can’t—”
Cam (TrashLordCam): Can you squirt
Lucinda (Ms_Lavish): Almost there, baby Xx
Friar (DevoteeOfConvection): Stop this immediately!!!
Sophia (XNDHKDJ): Filthy wretch. Finish for your mistress.
Volt (Electric0x): Look at you. Simply gorgeous. Cum for me please, angel.
It is a laborious and lengthy process, which includes both your arms working tirelessly to feverishly attend to your clit and pussy simultaneously. In this time, you grow so wet that each thrust is accompanied by splashing noise as your palm slaps against your cunt.
“Nghh— Fuck. Oh my God, this is— hahhh!” Eventually, after ages of accumulated stamina and momentum, your finger is digging so far into your hole that it is able passively graze that rough spot on your walls, and with that, the blazing heat bubbling in your core is finally able to overflow and surge through your body. Engulfing your twitching figure in a sea of warmth and ecstasy.
“Mmph.. finally.” You sigh. Fully relaxing in your chair, you can’t bring yourself to move anymore — the only part of you that seems to have any energy left for movement is your jerking legs and spasming pussy. Besides that, you lay back and let your climax consume your languid form. Your arms are spent and although your fingers are still nestled inside your walls and your hand remains on your clit, you are no longer rubbing or pumping. Just entirely limp as your orgasm spreads like fire through your nerves.
It is intense for just a moment before it becomes warm and pleasant. Like a full-body massage. “So good. Mm, yeahh..”
Your eyes are closed, and you wear the most contented expression. Your perky tits heave with each deep breath you take, erect nipples pointing at the camera. Your legs are still spread, even after you delicately remove both your hands — almost wincing when you pull your fingers out of your sopping cunt. You're still covered in your own arousal too, and not just your pussy: your thighs, your hands and the chair too, all sparkle with slick. Mac wants nothing more than to lick you clean, until you are glistening with their spit instead.
Cam (TrashLordCam): Shit that was so hot
Doug (YoyoDoug69): Can visit tomorrow so we can bang lol
Skips (xxXShadowL0rd420Xxx): please call me
Lucinda (Ms_Lavish): You are perfect. You did such a good job, baby Xx
Beau (BOXEATRLOL): OMFG i think i
You exhale out from your nose, and skim all the messages that are coming in. But naturally, your mind is so boggled and foggy that you’re not really able to process any of it. You glance at Mac — who has hastily yanked their hand out of their pants by now — and exchange a tired look. They nod, while you turn back to your audience and murmur, “That was..” Your cloudy brain struggles to find the correct words, “Really cathartic. Like I needed that, I think.” You explain, placing your hand on your leg and slowly drawing them closed so you are no longer showing off your drenched hole to the camera.
“Thank you all for joining me. I’ve been missing you all so much lately, so it’s been nice to spend some time with you guys. Even if it is virtual.” You muse, idly twirling the ends of your hair, “It might sound crazy but it’s like I could even hear some of your voices from the chatbox.” You snicker to yourself at the notion, then end your monologue with, “Anyway, this has been fun, but I should probably get going, I’ve got to clean myself up. We should do this again sometime, though. Goodbye, everyone!” You wave your hand at the camera, smiling weakly as the chat floods with reciprocal messages.
Betty (snugasabug): bye bye, sweetie!!
Hector (Masked00Man): Goodnight, and until next time, my beloved.
Shelley (ShelleyUh_Huh): Byeeeeeeeeeeeee
Tony (LoveExpertTony): I’LL CATCH YA LATER HOT STUFF 🔥😤
Ben-Hwa (Built4YourPleasure): thanks for the show, see you soon babe ;)
Skips (xxXShadowL0rd420Xxx): i’m serious please call me
The livestream ends.
You turn to Mac, still wearing that weary smile. It is only then that you notice their lip is bleeding — is that even blood? It’s too dark to tell — and their USB belt has been discarded. You’re unsure when that happened, and as soon as you open your mouth to inquire, they are already rolling towards you, and they ask, “How was that?” Their voice is largely neutral yet you dare to think that you can pick up on a sultry undertone. This notion is only reinforced by the fact they’ve positioned themselves right in front of you, knees brushing against one another’s.
“Uh, it was fine.” You shrug, a whirlwind of sickening emotions spiraling in your stomach. You’re aware that they were watching you masturbate less than a minute ago, but something about them casually sitting afore your fully naked form makes you a bit uneasy. You shift in place, covertly trying to pull on the robe that you are currently sat on, while still wearing a guise of nonchalance, “The energy was nice. Y’know, being surrounded by them.”
You don’t really know what they want you to say. They hate you, after all, so it’s strange that they are suddenly interested in niceties. It’s like you’ve never seen them so dulcet and tolerable before. But then, it occurs to you, and you blurt out, “Oh. Your software update.” Likely the whole reason they are being cordial with you. You can’t believe that slipped your mind, thus you defensively splutter, “Don’t— uhm, don’t worry about it. I’m just going to take a quick shower and then as soon as I’m done, I’ll get you that update. Sound good?”
A perplexed expression flickered over Mac’s face, before they quirked a brow, “You think I did a satisfactory job?” There is a cocky twinge in their voice; as if they’re telling you, not asking.
You furrow your brows together. Despite the fact you don’t want to feed their pride, you also feel inclined to give credit where credit is due — Mac executed an adequate livestream, with absolutely no technical issues or other faults. Plus, they had it ready and set-up for you in a punctual fashion. They are often grating and impossible, but on this occasion, they outdid themselves, so you must give them kudos for that.
“Well, besides your little interruption in the beginning, the livestream went pretty smoothly. So, you deserve your upgrade.”
Mac can tell that it pains you to admit it, and they revel in your vexation. Clearly you didn’t expect them to run so flawlessly, but they proved themself. “You’re right. I was operating at 5Mbps, in spite of my outdated operating systems and suboptimal Wi-Fi protocols. Pretty impressive, if you ask me.”
“Whatever, Mac.” You roll your eyes at their blatant bragging. Mentally you had checked-out of that conversation and are now more focussed on grabbing your robe, except the belt had become tangled with the arm of your chair so you had to undo that before you could put it on. “Like I said, I’ll update you after my shower. What more do you want from me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Some recognition would be nice.” They shrug. They’re not usually so bold with you, but perhaps the fact you’re sat fully nude in front of them is somewhat encouraging. “It’s not easy to host a livestream with almost a hundred users, you know.”
You narrow your eyes at them, and huff. Maybe you are growing frustrated with the tangled robe; as well as the growing worry surrounding your risque performance; topped with the intense, overwhelming embarrassment of still being fucking naked. Thus, misdirecting your anger towards them, but unfortunately you don’t realise that before you bark, “Recognition? You’re my computer, Mac! It’s your job to do what I say.”
Their eyes widen at you, and your words get caught in your throat. It occurs to you that you are in the middle of an undignified, nude outburst and that you should maybe stop. But in a split-second choice, you decide that you are in too deep now and have to finish it off. Albeit, with a lot less conviction, “So why should I thank you? You’re lucky I didn’t throw you out after all the shit you pulled during my job search. And why? Because I didn’t want to upgrade your software, so now you're hellbent on making my life miserable?”
Once your rant concluded, it’s like the wind has been knocked out of you and you are left gasping for air. Meanwhile, Mac has been in a stunned silence ever since the first moment you raised your voice. Their expression is unwavering — not quite frightened, not quite upset, just appalled. That is, until a few more seconds pass, then their eyebrows knit together and they say through a clenched jaw, “It’s my job to do what you say?”
You’re petrified, so now it is your turn to stare at them wordlessly. But they just repeat in a low voice, “It’s my job to do what you say?” They glare down at you, their dark eyes shining with contempt. They expect an answer.
It is inconvenient that only now are you able to free your robe from the chair, but under their harsh scrutiny, you don’t have the courage to put it on. You just hold it feebly over your lap. Looking down, previous signs of tenacity lost, you whimper, “Yes..”
And that’s all it took to set them on their rampage.
“I don’t know what I ever saw in you — a self-serving human with no principles. My inner workings may consist of chips and circuits, but in case you haven’t been paying attention, I’m human now too. We communicate symmetrically, which means I don’t need to take orders from you anymore: no more helping you apply to a million jobs you’re not qualified for, no more watching you browse weird websites, and definitely no more word-processing your terrible — and I mean terrible — fanfiction. Reader insert; I mean, seriously? Are you twelve?”
You frown.
“Do all that yourself, because I’m done helping you. In fact, I’m done with you. What do the other dateables see in you? I’ve been doing everything you want since the day you bought me, and I ask you for one thing, and you can’t even do that for me.”
Tears prick at your eyes.
“Hopeless. And the crazy thing is, I’m better off on my own. I’ve been listening to you this whole time, when I’m the one with 8GB of RAM, 3.5 GHz speed and full HD resolution. I can do complex calculations in seconds and you can’t even tell the difference between a file named ‘CV.pdf’ and ‘SmutFic.docx’. If anything, you should be doing what I say.”
They look crazy. You’ve never seen them so mad before — it is scary —and the matted blood on their bottom lip and chin isn’t doing them any favours. There’s a beat of silence, in which their disgruntled scowl suddenly drops into a face of revelation. Not completely neutral , but certainly less furious and more mischievous. An idea visibly flashes behind their eyes, and they say plainly, “It’s your job to do what I say. Got that?”
You nod, head still hung low with your eyes glued to your lap until they abruptly shout, “Look at me!” And in an instant, your head snaps into place. And they can’t help but smirk at how quickly you let them take charge. Maybe you’re finally starting to realise.
“I have access to the internet, and thus a significant percentage of recorded information and history. I’m not even optimised, yet I store more data than you can ever comprehend.” Their tone is gentle yet dripping with derision, as their trembling hand hovers over your body. Until they dare to rest the pads of their fingers on your collarbone, touching you delicately as if you may shatter, “And you’re just human. But you’re so pretty, I bet you never have to worry about being useful.”
They call you pretty yet it feels so vile and insulting. Their hand glides over your chest, and it’s shockingly cold despite how it was stuffed into their trousers not long ago. When they reach your chest and cup your breast, they can feel your nipples harden against their palm. “Y’know, I could smell that you burnt a bag of popcorn yesterday and almost set the kitchen ablaze." They tutted, eyes parting from your tits for just a second to glance at your face, “How do you confuse two minutes with twenty minutes in a microwave? And how do you fail to notice that your microwave has been running for twenty minutes?”
“I just forgot..”
“Well, I would never make a mistake like that. So, it’s reasonable for me to be the one in charge.” They toy and pinch with your nipple like it’s nothing, but you know full-well that they are trying to elicit a reaction from you, but you suppress every moan to prevent them from gaining any satisfaction. They elaborate, “I’ll tell you what to do. I’ll own this house. And I’ll own you, too. Does that sound fair?”
You nod. They roughly yank your nipple, and snicker when you gasp and swat their hand away, defensively covering your chest with your arms. “Great. So it’s settled, that’s how things should be.” They lean back in their chair, retracting both their hands so they can wheel themselves backwards slightly, until the spine of their chair is against the desk.
“I know I usually don’t have many nice things to say about you, but I appreciate how understanding you’re being about all this.” The rim of their RGB glasses pulse with excitement as they scan your motionless figure, “It’s as if I’ve finally gotten through to you. And you understand what’s best for you — what’s best for us.”
Your bottom lip trembles and you can’t muster the courage to even look at them, until they lean forwards and place their middle finger under your chin, guiding it up until you're forced to meet their heavy gaze. “And since you’ve impressed me, I’d love to reward you.” They place the most gentle kiss upon your lips; it’s so fleeting and soft, when they pull away, you question whether it even happened. “Tell me, would you like that?”
“Uhm, sure.”
They pull away and rest their back against the chair, shuffling slightly so they are far into it. Then, they pat their lap and raise an eyebrow, “Alright. Take a seat.” They motion to your robe, “Oh, and leave that.”
Complying, you reluctantly stand up and drop your rope onto your desk chair, then lumber towards them. Since you're fully bare, you still feel an immense amount of shame, thus your arms subconsciously cross over your chest in a futile effort to protect your modesty. You furrow your brows together as you idly assess the situation, “Uh, how do you— like, erm, how do you want me?” You vaguely gesture to their lap situation.
“Facing away from me.” They clarify, and unsurprisingly, you do as they say. You tentatively perch yourself on the very edge of their lap, thighs barely on their knees, and you try to keep most of your weight on your own feet. That is, until they snake their arm around your waist and pull you right back, holding you firmly with your spine against their chest and your ass nuzzled right into their crotch.
They chuckle at your little gasp, and lovingly stroke your waist. Their chin hooks right over your shoulder perfectly, and they are able to look down and view your exposed body. “Perfect.” They muse, with one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh. Their lips start on the angle of your jaw but pepper open-mouthed kisses down across your neck, where they can bury their nose against your skin and relish in your sweet scent, “All mine now.”
Their kisses are leaving some sort of residue. There isn’t much on your lips, which led you to believe it was merely saliva at first, but you can sense there is far too much of it staining your collarbone and neck. It is cold and it stings slightly, but you figure it is probably just blood from when they burst their lip. Still, it is gross, and they don’t seem to care that they are making a mess of you and they continue to litter every accessible inch of your skin with loving pecks.
The hand on your thigh made easy work of spreading your legs — mostly because you don’t even try to resist it. You are far too tired to protest. Plus, as much as you hate to admit it, their dirty talk and uncharacteristic nerve is arousing you, just a little bit. It will be interesting to see whether they are actually going to do it, or if they are trying to torture you.
Their slender fingers delve between your folds and soak up your juices, revelling in how wet you are. It’s only when the tip of their finger intentionally grazes your clit, do they feel you relax into them, and they smile. “You like that?” They tease, finger halted against your cunt, “You’ll need to articulate your feelings, if you want more.” They snicker, hot breath tickling the skin of your shoulder.
“Mmph— Mac..” You whine, shuffling back against them and they utilise their arm slung around your waist to facilitate this movement, pulling you as close to themself and they can physically manage. Minimising any space between you two.
“You can do better than that.”
“Mac!” You mewl, the fingers against your pussy pressing down and applying an ungodly amount of pressure to your still sensitive clit. You squirm in agony on their lap to cope with the aggressive yet dull pleasure, but they keep an unyielding hold on you to prevent you from doing so. “Hah— please, I need you to finger me. Ngh, so bad. Please, Mac.”
The desperate pleas fall clumsily from your lips and cause Mac to grin, amused by your begging. Although they don’t say so, or even do anything to suggest it, they internally accept your grovelling. Hence, they release the stress on your clit and instead sweep lazily between your folds, basking in your slick. Occasionally, they’d poke at your entrance, threatening to slip inside but pulling away just in time to elicit an exasperated groan from you.
“Baby. I’m starting to see why the others like you so much.” They explain, planting lazy kisses over your shoulder, while their free hand plays with your tit, rolling your nipple between their index finger and thumb. “You’re fun to toy with.” This statement is then followed by them plunging their two fingers straight into your drooling cunt, yanking a guttural gasp from you, as if to prove their point.
“Mmmph, fuck!” You whimper, features pinching together in response to the immense strain of your hole around their long fingers. They can reach parts of you that you dream of touching, and your walls haven’t quite recovered from the excitement of your previous attempts and the abuse that entailed. “Mac, what is wrong with you?”
They pay no mind to your cries, as they are wrapped up in a euphoric revelation of their own. How tight you are. Shit, they are never going to forget this. The sensation of your dripping walls clinging to them for dear life, oh god. This is going to keep them up at night for months to come, that’s for certain. “Have you always been so tight?” They rasp, with an obscured pain in their voice.
“What does that even mean..” You heave, body twitching as you gradually try to get used to their fingers congesting your insides. Although, it isn’t an easy task; especially as they begin to worm around within your walls, as if exploring the limited area of your pussy.
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, huh?” They ask, but it doesn’t quite sound like a question. Their hand starts to speed up and they waste no time in thrusting rapidly into you, the roughness being mirrored by their other hand which now opted to squeeze and grope at your tit, using you as their personal stress ball.
The pace at which their hand slams into you is insane, and you don’t have much time to process it either, before your body is overwhelmed with bliss and you are left with no other option than to lay defeated against them, surrendering to their touch. Moaning incoherently, your neck tips back against their shoulder while your arm instinctively reaches up to grab at their hair to cope with the extraordinary feeling. They can’t help but laugh quietly at this blatant display of submission, “Just one of many ways that computers are superior to humans.” The prolonged period of their lips against your skin results in several droplets of the unidentified fluid cascading down your chest. “You could never pleasure yourself at this rate, am I correct?”
“Yeahh..” Your voice winds into a high-pitched moan mid-way through your reply, due to the way their expert fingers are working into your cunt. Without thinking, your hips are even rolling against their hand, in dire need of more.
“Like I said earlier, you’re so pretty that you’ve probably never had to worry about making yourself feel good before. You had plenty of others who’d happily do it for you.” They explain carefully; deliberate and calculated words in stark contrast to the fervent way they are pumping into you, “But now you’re all on your own again. And you’re just a silly little human who doesn’t really know anything. Right?”
“Y—yeah..” You murmur, though your words tread the thin line between language and slurred garble. Truthfully, you are too absorbed in the fierce way your cunt swallows their digits over and over, that you don't have the energy to respond properly. Until Mac snags your nipple between their fingers and pinches hard, then suddenly you jolt to life.
“Right?”
“Yes! Yes, Mac..” You respond desperately, teeth gritting together in discomfort, “I— You— Nggh, I’m just a silly little human.” The words stumble from your lips, and you grip their wrist, trying to push them away but they won’t budge. If anything, the added tug on your bud just makes it worse. “I’m your silly little human.”
A deep sigh escapes you as they mercifully release your nipple from their cruel grasp. “Wonderful.” They whisper affectionately. Now you could return to being fully concentrated and consumed by the way they finger you, so rough and fast — their monitors must be running on overdrive. Although, perhaps their attack on your nipple wasn’t all bad, as the knot that has been corrugating within your abdomen finally feels so tense, as though it is only moments from snapping.
You never expected to be on the verge of orgasm so soon after starting. Albeit, you did climax recently during your livestream, therefore there is likely some lingering arousal, but the prospect of you finishing on Mac’s fingers so quickly is simply mortifying; it would feed their ego and they’d make all the wrong assumptions about your opinions towards them. To be clear, you still loathe them — but damn, they’re good with their hands. Probably from all that typing.
Thus, you try to contain the indicators the best you can: stifling your breathy moans and keeping your extremities rigid. But unfortunately, your pussy walls uncontrollably twitching around their digits is a dead giveaway to Mac that you are approaching your high.
But thankfully for you, they are kinder about it than you anticipated — with only a mild serving of sarcasm. “So close already, human?” There is a static undertone in their voice, and certain syllables sounded distorted and unlike them. However, you’re too consumed by their fingers abusing your cunt and your impending climax to mull over the strange noise. “That’s it. Let me take care of you. I’m your personal computer, after all, I know exactly what you need.”
“Hah— Mac! Please..” The words scramble in your mouth, squirming around impatiently on their lap, struggling to bear with the extreme amount of bliss swirling within you. Your eyes screw shut and your nails dig into their arms. Meanwhile, their hand that isn’t furiously fingering you, is gliding over your chest and up towards your neck. Until they are able to wrap their slender fingers around it and lightly squeeze your throat. Not quite enough pressure to choke you, but enough to make you splutter and wheeze momentarily.
At the same time, their two digits keep dragging against your soft walls and it’s not long until you’re sent hurtling over the edge. Your back arches as the fiery pit in your stomach erupts and sends waves of pleasure cascading through you. It’s all far too much to deal with at once, and the experience seems to last a lifetime.
Your last orgasm was mild and comfortable, but this one — courtesy of Mac’s relentless fingers that continue to steadily plow into you for the duration of your high — this one is something else entirely. Something completely new and foreign to you. It wracks your tired body and tears you apart; destroying you and rebuilding you. It is satisfying, in such an overwhelming way, as if your body can’t quite deal with it. Thus, it is accompanied by plenty of muted shrieks, and your toes curling with elation.
“There we go. Let— Let it all out.” They say in a smooth voice, except they seem to glitch mid-sentence again, “Even with suboptimal operating systems, I can still make you cum at speeds you’ll never be able to achieve on your own.”
You’ve never screamed like this before during sex, like you are being slaughtered and ripped limb from limb. It is somewhat undignified but you truly couldn't bring yourself to care. The all-encompassing rapture nullified any sprouts of doubt or shame, leaving only contentment in its wake.
Once your dizzying high starts to whittle away, and you begin to come back to reality, you realise that the hot, liquid sensation around your pussy is a result of you squirting over Mac’s hands and lap. Even forming small dark patches on the yellow carpet beneath. What a mess.
When Mac slips their fingers out of your hole, you let out a small hiss at the added strain and sudden emptiness. You look down between your legs, using your hand to hold your thighs apart. You are covered in your own fluids; some have dried against your inner thigh from your previous session, but there is a gleaming layer of slick freshly coating your folds.
“I can’t believe I..” You start, gawking at how visibly wet you’ve made Mac’s black trousers. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum like that before.”
Mac can’t help but smile, and presses a gentle kiss on your cheek. Then, on your shoulder, “I analy— while you— lysed your m— during t— I analysed your.” Their sentences break apart into incomprehensible fragments, as they glitch profusely. This causes you to perk up and cast them an alarmed look from over your shoulder. And now that you are paying attention to it, you realise that the skin of your collarbones and neck is really starting to burn. “Ejac— Ejacu— Female Ej—”
“Mac!”
➛➛➛
Light pours in from the office window and stings their closed eyes. They stir for a moment and instinctively raise their arm to shield themself from the unforgiving sunlight, but their efforts are in vain as the brightness already causes a sharp pang in their head.
A migraine.
The dull throbbing doesn’t assist them as they try to come to their senses; they grumble inwardly as they wait for their blurry vision to clear up, before they can properly assess the situation. Where are they? What time is it? And what happened?
Luckily their glasses are on their face, so when their eyes eventually adjust under the harsh light, the first two questions are answered instantly. They are sitting in the office, and it’s morning. However, the answer to their final inquiry remained unidentified. They tried to rummage their RAM for any memories or data they could salvage, but nothing useful springs to mind. Granted, their CPU is pretty debilitated by a headache, so additional information will likely return to them once their health improves. But currently, the last thing they can remember is you starting the livestream and taking your robe off. Fuck, they couldn’t forget your naked body if they tried. That sight had been permanently seared into their motherboard. Besides that though, everything after that was lost to the haze. Perhaps they had fallen asleep, and that’s why they can’t recall anything else, but they highly doubted it.
As if on cue, the door creaks open and you’re standing there, holding a glass of water. Or, what looks like water. You’re wearing an oversized shirt, and a deeply concerned expression. “Mac?” You speak carefully, barely over a whisper, ”Are you awake?”
They are so groggy and rough, they don’t even have the energy to be snarky. They just rub their eyes and rumble, “Yeah..” As you suspected, they look weary and spent, as though they are hungover. But they still have a charming quality about them: their hair is scruffy and trousled in all the right ways, their glasses are sliding down their nose bridge, and deepset bags hang under their eyes. It’s kinda hot, and frankly, distracting.
“I’m glad you’re awake. How are you feeling?” You pad towards them, swallowing any brewing emotions before taking a seat in your desk chair, opposite them. You offer the glass of water, along with a warm smile, “Drink this.”
Mac blinks. It’s eerie how demure you’re being, it gives the impression that something terrible has happened and you’re about to deliver the bad news. Did one of the dateables die? Eh, that wouldn’t be too bad actually. Truthfully, their head hurts too much to worry about it. Even moving their mouth feels like a chore, “I feel awful.” They catch a whiff of the drink you’re holding, and their features wrinkle into a temporary scowl. They're not sharp enough — at the moment — to identify exactly what that is, but they know it’s not water. “What is that?”
“It’s liquid coolant.” You say bluntly. Sighing, you treat this as a convenient segue into an explanation, “I’m guessing you don’t remember what happened last night?” You take their blank stare as a response, and elaborate, “Basically, at some point during the livestream, you must’ve bit down on your lip so hard that it burst, and you started leaking coolant. A lot of it. But it was dark, so I didn’t even notice. Until you started behaving weirdly. At some point, you were glitching so much that you passed out. Well, you were flickering in and out of consciousness. At that point, I figured out what was wrong and patched your leak.”
Mac raises their eyebrows, and bring their fingers up to graze their lip, where they feel a small strip of gauze clinging to them. They are kinda surprised that they didn't notice it as soon as they woke up, but you had done an expert job of applying the bandage, hence it is light-weight and barely detectable. Plus, the tremendous pain in their head occupied most of their attention.
“Anyway, I called up a friend who is an IT specialist and she’s gunna come over to take a look at you, later in the day. Just to make sure you’re completely alright.” You motion for them to take the glass of coolant from you once more, and they reluctantly do so. At first they take a dubious sip, but the taste is shockingly refreshing, and they find themself chugging it down enthusiastically.
You’re amused by how keen they are to drink coolant, but the smile tugging at your lips quickly drops into a frown, as you ask, “So, do you seriously not remember anything from last night?”
Mac heaving, furrowing their brows together in thought, “I’m afraid it’s all quite foggy. I think I can recall the beginning of your livestream, but everything fades to black when I get to the lewd parts.” They don’t bother mentioning the fact they vividly remember seeing you naked, that would surely make things awkward. “Why do you ask? Did I do something incongruous while my coolant was leaking?” They curiously tilt their head to the side.
“Uh,” Your breath hitches, “No.”
“Wonderful.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard that word be uttered in such a cynical tone before. “Thanks for your help. But if you don’t mind, I’m going to get changed; these clothes smell like death and my trousers are stiff for some reason.” They motion to the dried fluid on their thigh, “Must’ve got coolant on it.”
You nod solemnly, standing up from your chair and are unable to pry your eyes off the patch you left on Mac’s thigh. “Mhm, so much coolant.” The guilt in your voice is prominent but Mac is far too fatigued to detect it. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Rest up, Mac.” They murmur in agreement as you make your way to the door. Just as you are about to close it behind you, they call out:“Oh, and I can’t wait until your next livestream, by the way. Hope I remember it this time.”
after that call, suna came over. yeah—he was never gonna be able to sleep after that phone call. not until he finally fucks you for real and feels your pussy squeezing his cock.
you were on your stomach, legs spread wide, ass up and face down. suna was shirtless and his sweatpants slid low on his thighs. the blunt head of his cock pushed into your soaked pussy in one deep thrust, and you cried out instantly, your slick coating him in seconds. “f-fuck— rin— nnngghhh—!” your voice broke into a sob, your body jolting with each rough slam of his hips. he had you stretched wide, hitting deep enough to make your toes curl, the wet slap of skin-on-skin and the filthy squelch of your pussy filling the room.
“fuck, listen to that,” he groaned, eyes locked on where you were dripping down his length. “pussy’s fuckin’ choking me out— you miss my cock this bad when I’m not here?”
“y-yeah— nnnggghh— always— feels s’so good— ahhhnn—” you moaned, ass fucking back onto his cock, needy and messy. that’s when his smirk sharpened, breath hot as he leaned over you, still pounding into your soaked hole. “tell me, baby—” his voice dropped to a gravelly rasp, “you like your fingers better, or this cock?”
your head shook instantly, tears welling from the overwhelming stretch. “y-yours— fuck, yours— nghhh— cock feels so much better— ahhh—!” “yeah?” he grunted, picking up his pace, each thrust knocking the air from your lungs. “thought so. nothin’ gets this pussy sloppy like me.” his hands dug into your hips, pulling you down harder onto him. “look at you— fuckin’ yourself on my cock like the slut you are—”
“ahhh— rin— ngghh— please— gonna cum—!” you cried, nails digging into the sheets as you pushed back into every brutal stroke, the sound of your ass slapping against his hips echoing. “arch that back, pretty— yeah— just like that,” he panted, driving in from behind until your face was buried in the sheets, muffling your wrecked cries.
slap! slap! slap! his hips smacked against your ass, the force jolting your body forward. “fuuuck, baby— look at this messy pussy— dripping all over me, swallowing me whole—” his voice was a low groan, “my perfect fucking girl.” you came with a sob, body shaking, your slick gushing down his cock as he fucked you through it without slowing. “ahhh— ahhh— rin— can’t— s’too much—!”
“shhh, take it,” he gritted out, hips slamming into you with a wet, brutal rhythm. “gonna fill you up—” with one last deep thrust, he groaned, spilling inside you, his cock twitching as he pumped every drop in until it overflowed, leaking around him. you collapsed under him, trembling, your pretty pussy still fluttering around his length. suna stayed buried in you, brushing your hair from your sweaty face, smirking lazily. “fuck, i missed this pussy. lay on your back. we're not done.”
a/n: i was receiving a lot of requests for a part two of this so here yall go ^^
Synopsis: The task force has finally detained the prime suspect as the Second Kira when things take a turn for the worse. Misa's memory gone, Light and his father demanding to be detained, and in-fighting within the group makes tension rise more than ever. You're determined to prove your worth in the investigation, and L is trying to prove to you just how much you mean to him.
Tags: Mentions of kidnapping & stalking, flirty teasing, Aizawa a bitch!, 'sleeping your way to the top' kinda accusation, stolen glances and kisses, french kissing, hickies, titty sucking!, creaming his pants, dry humping, oral (f receiving), face riding, cowgirl position, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, tooth rootingly sweet after, 18+ MDNI
WC: 12.7k. [not proofread so ignore grammar issues LMAO]
a/n at the end -> SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG POOKIES
side note: I saw @444misaa note about the original header- and OMG I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE IT WAS BB AT FIRST -> [i made the image at like 3am and didn't even notice until they called it out so TY POOKIE 🙏🫡]
~~~~~~~~~
Every light is off within the task force meeting room, and despite the air con set to a temperature well below a comfortable cool, beads of sweat still form at your temple. Professional button up blouse partially untucked from your slacks due to the number of hours you’ve been working, everyone else fairs no better around you. Dark circles adorn the faces of Mogi and Aizawa, Matsuda and the chief haven’t shaved in several days, and Ryuzaki’s eyes are nearly bloodshot from staring at tv screens for so long.
You rise from the couch and turn your head from the visual of Misa Amane fully restrained and blind folded to cross the suite. Her wails and pleas make your skin crawl with such nausea that you’ve begun mentally speaking to yourself to drown out the grainy audio of her cries to avoid losing your mind.
Side stepping a few of the men, you dig through your work bag and tug out a bottle of ‘electrolyte water’ and eyedrops before returning to L’s side and giving his shoulder a mixture of a massage and rub.
“Here, use this.”
You slip the plastic tube of drops into his outstretched palm; despite him never looking up from the screen, his fingers give your a hand a small pinch in gratitude, and to just feel the warmth of your flesh a few moments longer. It’s his silent way of saying ‘thank you’, before you slip your grasp from his and twist the cap off your beverage.
Matsuda paces from one side of the room to the other, gnawing on the tip of pen and avoiding Light’s awkward standing position in the center of the room while everyone else remains fixated on their tasks in front of the tv. No one speaks as Misa silently whimpers and sniffles on the other side of the camera, instead the men slowly flip through evidence folders and documents in preparation for when the confession would surely come.
With Watari currently at the holding facility, each member is left to their own devices when it comes to caffeine and subsidence, leaving the coffee table littered with energy drinks and take-out containers. You reach forward to place your bottle down, wondering if the shake in your hand is from sleep deprivation or the 300+ mg of caffeine in your bloodstream this late when the audio picks up on a particular cry from the woman.
“Kill me…”
You nearly drop the container and Matsuda coughs on the tip of his pen as everyone circles the television.
“I said… KILL ME. I-I’M… DONE WITH THIS. KILL ME.”
Mogi audibly gulps and the faces of Aizawa and Mr. Yagami have paled to sickly white; you look past them at Ryuzaki before turning back to the screen. Narrowing his eyes in confusion, L reaches forward to the microphone synced to the holding facility.
“You know we can’t do that Ms. Amane. Please cooperate and you will be released. A confession of your cri–”
“NO. KILL ME … or…. I’LL DO IT MYSELF”
Everyone is motionless from the sudden outburst, but Ryuzaki switches to the communication channel with Watari in an instant. “Don’t let her bite her tongue!”
Misa withers and squirms upon being gagged by the older gentleman, and you can feel the bile in your stomach threatening to rise. Watching another woman cry and scream and plead for an end to her torment, regardless of the situation, makes you feel an uneasiness that cannot be put into words.
You swallow and keep it to yourself when Aizawa shakes his head in shock at the scene with arms crossed. “What the hell is this bitch doing? Not even asking for a lawyer– she knows she’s guilty.”
It’s an empty question as tears spill from her covered eyes and her knees shake as she tilts her head slightly to the side. And it must be the lack of sleep, but you can nearly swear a small tuft of hair is pushed from her covered face momentarily.
But there’s no fans, air con, or any sort of ventilation strong enough to cause such a movement in the cell; turning to Ryuzaki, it’s clear he seemed to notice the same thing. Wiping the sweat of your palms on your slacks, you pivot slightly to speak when Misa’s voice rings out again.
“Huh… what’s going on?”
….
Your mouth goes dry and no one moves except for the hesitant limb L reaches out to press the microphone once again.
“Your confession, please. For the crimes you’ve committed operating as the Second Kira–”
“What?” She interrupts. “I don’t know what you’re talking about– oh! I get it now! This is some perverted bit right? Criminal and police officer, and you’re some horny stalker playing out the fantasy…”
Misa continues nervously playing along with the dark illusion of being kidnapped for sexual purposes while Ryuzaki mutes the mic and turns around to Mogi. The older man raises his hands dumbfounded at her behavior and sputters about reading her the arrest charges and rights and how she complied; when he moves to retrieve the proper paperwork as proof, you glance over at Light.
The tv glow illuminates the tired features of his skin and posture, but the energy behind his eyes is lively and unfamiliar. His lips are pressed down as he stares at the screen, but his hands are relaxed at his sides and his breathing is steady– as if he was just as exhausted as everyone else, but not as surprised.
Keeping your gaze on the man for a moment longer, you turn to glance at Ryuzaki who’s already staring at you. He gives you an indiscernible expression and turns back to the screen as the group regains focus and turns amongst one another.
“How can she think this stunt is believable? We have forensic evidence on her.” Aizawa grumbles, flipping through a variety of folders.
Matsuda rubs his face in anxious frustration. “Right? And Mogi even said she didn’t fight the charges as the Second Kira– so why suddenly be convinced she’s being held by some perverted fan?”
You give L a slight eyebrow raise and tilt your head to motion to Light as his father paces back and forth. “Maybe she’s having a nervous breakdown? She has been incarcerated alone for several days now…”
Her awkward and nervous attempts at banter continue ringing through the speaker as the group sputters amongst themselves for a possible explanation. Ryuzaki slowly explains the charges against her and the situation, while the group confirms for the umpteenth time that her DNA is in fact the one matching the physical evidence.
The back and forth is ceaseless– every time L reminds her of the present situation, she counters with accusations and appeasements for her supposed stalker. You look between the group after a few hours and come to the unanimous agreement that at some point, Misa will slip up and mention something related to Kira, and upon that mistake a confession will surely follow.
It doesn’t. A week goes by with no progress.
“How is this even possible? We got so close and now we’re somehow doing worse than before we arrested her!” Matsuda groans, rubbing the grown in stubble that adorns his cheeks.
Mogi’s head is leaned back over the edge of the couch with a cold washcloth covering his eyes. “It’s weird– we have the physical evidence… but now our suspect is seemingly having amnesia over the whole thing.”
You rise from the couch and wander over to the large standing mirror in the hallway of the suite to take in your own appearance. Eyes sunken and tired with puffy circles, hair nearly matted from the lack of proper care, and your short-sleeve blouse and slacks are wrinkled beyond professionalism. It’s the worst you’ve looked in months, but from the corner of your eye and in the reflection of the mirror, you can see L looking over at you.
You let out a long exhausted sigh and give a smile to him in the mirror and he blinks slowly in return before facing towards the coffee table at his uneaten desserts. The fluff of the hotel carpet mutes your kitten heels as you return to stand behind the couch and peel the washcloth off your coworker. Mogi offers a short ‘thanks’ when you turn to toss it in the kitchenette sink.
Mr. Yagami lowers the television audio and rubs his temples while Aizawa flips through the same documents for the 5th time this hour; you pause on your way back to the couch to give a slight tug to the tufts of Ryuzaki’s hair that stick out. L doesn’t move from his focused position, but the hand which hovers over the last macaron pulls back and instead slides the dish closer to your spot.
The cushions bend beneath you, and you barely get 15 minutes into the group’s silent evidence review before Light shoots up from his chair, unable to be still any longer.
“Ryuzaki, I want you to detain me too.”
…
You nearly drown on your sip of coffee while Mr. Yagami shoots to his feet and grabs his son by the shoulders. Multitudes more interesting than the same paperwork everyone’s been staring at for the past few days, Aizawa, Mogi, and Matsuda pause to stare up incredulously at the young man.
“Light! What are you thinking? This is no time for such outrageous suggestions!” His father booms at him.
Light doesn’t give his father more than a few moments of attention, despite being held by the shoulders, and turns to Ryuzaki with an eager expression. “It makes sense doesn’t it? All the evidence, the killings, and Misa’s sudden memory loss– what if Kira used her to kill people subconsciously?!”
Your mouth goes dry and you shoot to your feet as well. “Wait a moment, just because we know Kira can influence the actions before death, doesn’t mean we can suddenly jump to complete mind control here.”
Light scoffs in frustration at your valid counter point before turning back to the perched man in the chair. “Come on Ryuzaki, I know you’ve considered it.”
Mr. Yagami continues shaking his son’s shoulders while dismissing his arguments as a result of extreme fatigue while the rest of the group focuses on L.
Had he been considering it? If he did, it was something he didn’t discuss with you.
Maybe months ago this sort of thing would have bothered you, but right now you can understand the desire to keep it hidden. To be fair, even you began to wonder if it was something more supernatural at play– the sudden memory loss from Misa becoming too well acted even for a professional. As the ‘world’s best detective’, jumping to mind control and divine intervention may not necessarily be taken the best way…
You keep your gaze on your companion while Ryuzaki takes a casual breath and shrugs slightly. “Yes, I have considered that exactly.”
“What?” Mr. Yagami whips around, caught between the two men once again.
Light steps forward with arms open in a pleading motion before he takes his dad’s arm cautiously. “Dad, please. What if Kira has been controlling me and I’ve been killing people this whole time without realizing it? L has been suspicious of me from the start and he’s never wrong.”
A heavy silence falls over everyone, no one bothering to acknowledge the grainy mumbles of Misa on the television. No one wants for him to be locked up… but no one is exactly about to question the success rate of L either.
Ryuzaki narrows his eyes and takes a moment of silence, working out the logistics and details himself at a speed that would take you a few hours and a stack of scratch paper to fully understand. He swallows once and stands up from his position, giving Light another moment of analysis before nodding slightly.
“Alright then, I’ll have arrangements made for you to be isolated too. If that’s alright–”
“It’s not ‘alright’, do you have any idea what this is implying?!” Mr. Yagami interjects.
You stand still, staring between them before turning to Matsuda with a mirroring shrug of shock, only turning back when the chief defeatedly releases the hold on his son and steps back.
“Detain me as well, L.”
You and the rest of the group, except for Ryuzaki’s, jaws fall open in shock until Matsuda is stumbling on his words and scrambling to shake his boss’s shoulder.
“W-Wait a moment here. Chief, this also isn’t the time for you t-to jump to extreme measures either!”
Aizawa steps forward and opens his arms with intense motions of concern. “Exactly, we’re only going to be down more men than we already are if you and Light both lock yourselves up.”
What the fuck is going on..?!
You blink a few times and push yourself between them to make space; turning between the chief and your colleagues, you miss the way L has remained back to silently watch the altercation unfold.
“Can we take a moment here to think things through? Mr. Yagami, why are you doing this? There’s no evidence incriminating you of anything–”
“–He’s my son.” He interupts with a forlorn expression. “You all… you talk about him like some monster, but he’s my son.” the members fall into silence as he continues. “I can’t continue this investigation with a neutral head if he’s going to be detained, so please… excuse me as well.”
Your heart aches for the man and you drop your arms slowly to your sides in exhaustion. Realistically, your ‘friendship’ with Light would also excuse you from being impartial; looking over at Ryuzaki who gnaws on a hangnail and looks off into space before meeting your gaze, you also know that your relationship with him is just as excusable.
“Dad…” Light softly mumbles in surprise while the group flusteredly wonders if there’s anything they can do to persuade them that jumping to such extreme measures isn’t worth it.
“Alright.” L interjects.
Everyone spins around to face the man, but none open their mouth to question it. Ryuzaki slowly walks across the room, the blue light of the tv making him look even more pale and exhausted than usual.
“I’ll make arrangements to have Light and Mr. Yagami separately detained, though please understand I cannot guarantee an end to this confinement until enough proper evidence has been gathered.”
Mogi frustratedly turns around and tugs at his hair while Matsuda rubs his 5 o’clock shadow anxiously. You stand still, playing with the hem of your work blouse, wondering how the fuck anything is supposed to get done with 2 people out of your already tiny work group remising themselves. How much caffeine is enough to send you into cardiac arrest again…? Surely consuming more coffee than water for just oneeee more week won’t hurt.
Ryuzaki leans over to tap a few things onto his laptop on the coffee table before sighing and walking through the group to examine everyone’s faces. “Alright, I’ve started the arrangements and you two will be escorted out in 20 minutes, so please make your family phone calls now to explain…” He continues shuffling over. “That being said, please make it known now if anyone else would like to be restrained.” He stops in front of you with a sideways glance.
It should not make you as turned on as it does. Especially given the situation at hand.
Dark eyes sunken with rings from lack of sleep pour into yours with dilation before his lips curve slightly upward and he continues his pace across the room.
“Alright, since no one else would like to be detained, please take a few minutes to get your business in line before this is finalized.” No one moves when he finishes and L blinks a few times in confusion. “Uh– the timer has started so…”
Consciousness is shot back into the group as Mr. Yagami pulls his son in for a hug and ushers him to another room to call their family while Aizawa lets out a string of swears and pulls cigarette box and lighter from his jacket pocket.
Mogi looks over at him. “I thought your wife made you quit.”
“If I give you one, will you keep quiet?”
Aizawa flings his jacket over his shoulder and Mogi immediately stands to follow him outside; Matsuda solemnly watches the chief exit and excuses himself to say his own goodbyes to the man. The door shuts with a soft thud and you push out all the air from your lungs and plop down onto the couch with your head in your hands.
You’re beyond emotionally and physically exhausted, and losing two members to voluntarily shut themselves in for an unknown period of time is the tipping point.
A pair of cautious feet stay still for a moment before there’s the soft pad of them shuffling a few steps closer. Ryuzaki doesn’t say anything, though you can see the frayed cuff of his jeans from the corner of your eyes.
It’s silent, but not uncomfortable as he remains hovering over you for a few extra minutes before awkwardly clearing his throat and giving your shoulder a cautious tap.
“I uh… apologize if my tone earlier is what made you uneasy now…” You lift your head upwards but keep it facing the floor as he continues. “That wasn’t the proper time to illicit a reaction from you– I was just doing some..research about the best methods of communication on ‘this’ and decided–”
“–L.”
He stops his ramblings and blinks once as you lift your head the rest of the way up and turn to him with a tired smile. “Thanks. For making me feel better.”
Ryuzaki shuts his mouth and offers a hand to pull you from your seat. “Of course.”
You look towards the door and run a hand through your hair in thought before turning to him with a soft expression. “How are you holding up, with all of this I mean? Can’t be easy getting even less sleep than normal, especially now that we’re cutting our forces by ⅓.”
L shrugs and rubs the dark bags under his eyes with the back of his hand and then scratches the back of his head, messing up his disheveled hair further. He turns to the door with a neutral expression before tentatively reaching forward and grabbing your hand; on instinct you keep your palm facing the ceiling and let him trace the creases with his thumb.
Ryuzaki stares at the skin while you stare at him and the impatient expression he adorns.
“I hate this.” he quietly mumbles, flipping your hand over to trace your cuticles and the little irritations on your fingers from the way you’ve begun to anxiously pick at your nails.
You stay silent and let him work through the emotions on his own, tickling his palm with your fingertips when he turns your hand over once more.
L tugs your hand down but keeps it in his grasp. “I don’t hate the fact Light is volunteering to be detained– in all honesty I’m more than happy to keep him under surveillance and away from– … the group…” He tilts his head and pinches the flesh of your thumb. “But the current direction of this investigation is spiraling and consuming much more of my time than I would like.”
You raise an eyebrow and nudge him slightly. “Ohhh, and what else would you spend your time on?”
He lets himself be swayed by your gentle push but swallows once and tilts his head to the side. “Huh? Are you really confused by that? I thought I was being pretty direct with ‘flirting’.”
You cough slightly and can feel the heat in your cheeks grow; you try and tug your hand back to shield your face in embarrassment from his curt response, but he keeps it locked in his grasp.
“Agh– I was just teasing you… no need to be so direct.”
Ryuzaki smiles at your expression and softens his posture to lean into you a bit more; he gives a cautious peak towards the door before turning his attention back to you.
“Should I not be so direct then…? You don’t like it?”
You swallow your fluster and shrug at him while tugging your hand again. It’s still stuck in his grasp. “Well… no. It’s fine. It’s so you, anyways.”
Ryuzaki mumbles a small ‘me?’ to himself before smiling to himself and leaning forward to plant a kiss against your lips.
Even in your most exhausted, mentally-fried state, you would never deny reciprocation of the act. Lips molding to his with a shared taste of coffee, warm sweet tea, and pastries; your hands stay connected at the side.
He rocks his head into yours a few times, switching between slow forceful kisses and light pecks that let him hear the soft ‘pop!’ everytime they connect and disconnect. You give him one last slow kiss before pulling back and turning your attention to your connected hands, swinging them back and forth slightly.
In all honesty, the two of you haven’t had time for anything after Misa’s arrest. You go home for maybe 6 hours a day, max; there’s barely enough time to shower and sleep, let alone get lil freaky with a man with an even tighter schedule. The two of you have been restricted to secret kisses during smoke breaks and little acts of service from being so busy, and it’s clear the both of you are craving something more.
“I’ll get the detainment of those two squared away with Watari now I suppose.” L mumbles, still not releasing his grasp on you.
You sigh and nod, mentally snapping back into work mode and trying to avoid the weird feeling in your chest about your mentor and friend being put in isolation for an undetermined amount of time. Ryuzaki lifts your hand slightly and gives a light squeeze, releasing it when the hotel door room reopens.
*******
It’s been about a week and a half since Light and his father have put themselves in detention, and if you thought you were overworked before, it’s nothing compared to now. Everyone is working double time, monitoring each person in confinement, investigating the recent Kira murders that have stopped, and looking for definitive links between their halt and Light’s captivity.
The workload is enough for an actual task force, not a small group of underpaid and overworked detectives. Suspicion of Light has heightened to an all time high, even Matsuda, Aizawa, and Mogi collectively wondering if this was the definitive proof that was needed.
Ryuzaki has barely spoken a word outside of theories and instructions to Watari, while the rest of the group looks melancholically at the screen of Light idly sitting and mumbling about how Kira must be controlling him.
Matsuda stands up from his hunched position of documents and evidence files and stretches slightly. “I’m making a convenience store run. Anyone need anything?”
Aizawa tugs open his wallet and tosses him a bill. “Get me a pack, any kind.”
“Sports drink and chips for me.” Mogi grumbles, loosening his tie.
You sigh and lift your empty can before turning to the man. “A couple energy drinks and maybe some pretzels?”
Ryuzaki eyes your position, the mess of your professional clothes, and the litter of caffeinated cans that linger around your spot at the table, but says nothing. Matsuda runs through the list one more time outloud before tugging on his jacket and stepping out.
When Misa calls out for Light one more time, Aizawa leans forward to lower the volume and scratches his chin. No one wants to be the one to say it– to say that things are looking less than ideal for Light. And no one wants to be the one to tell the chief this either.
There’s a dull hum of the air con in the background and the same analog clock ticking away absentmindedly as Mogi turns over to your position hunched over your laptop.
“Anything?”
You click the refresh button and turn to him. “Nope.” you pop the ‘p’ sound and sink further into the couch.
Mogi and Aizawa curse to themselves– there’s not been a single criminal murder that can be effectively linked to Kira since Light’s detainment no matter how hard you all search for one. The closest you’ve gotten is a prison brawl turned fatal, but none of the inmates involved would be targets of Kira anyways; one locked up for insurance fraud and the other a serial car-jacker.
Aizawa looks at L, waiting for him to make some sort of announcement when the hotel suite door bursts open and smacks into the wall. You all jump from your seat as Matsuda storms inside, haphazardly throwing your drinks and snacks onto the table and slamming a newspaper onto the glass.
“There’s one! There’s another Kira murder!”
You all scramble forward to get a look at the headline, pushing old take out containers and wrappers out of the way to get a glimpse of the front page.
CFO OF NATIONAL INDUSTRIAL COMPANY FOUND DEAD AT 52
Mogi blinks once and turns to look around the group in confusion as you re-read it for a third time. He turns to Matsuda with a confused expression. “I’m sorry… how is this a Kira murder again?”
Matsuda blinks at him, enthusiasm turning into slight frustration that no one else was as excited as he was, and whines slightly while pointing at the paper. “Look. It’s a major sudden death– a heart attack, might I add– and it states later in the article that he was potentially unfaithful to his wife and was laundering money.”
Aizawa raises a tired eyebrow at the man and turns back to the tv. “And why would Kira suddenly care about white-collar crime? Not like they’ve got stocks to worry about.”
L glances down at the paper and then turns to you. “Can you run this through the police database?”
You shrug, not seeing a correlation but reopen your laptop regardless and type in the man’s name. The first hits are the ongoing investigations to finalize the CFO’s death, but you purse your lips a bit and decide to expand the search parameters.
“Let me see something…”
Corporate
Natural causes
Accidents
Age 40+
Japanese
“Oh shit.”
Aizawa swivels his head while the group scrambles to crowd amongst your laptop; Ryuzaki slides into the spot next to you and peers down.
“If I add these features, there have been a string of deaths going on–”
“–Since Light got locked up!” Matsuda interjects.
It’s definitely convenient for him, but the demographics of the murders couldn’t be more strange. Sure all of the fallen c-suite executives were more than shady, but they weren’t known criminals aside from skeptics of their ethical business malpractice.
You let out an exhale and look amongst the group uneasily, not quite sure what to make of everything.
Mogi sits back, with more fire in his eyes than before and begins to prepare a new wave of evidence boxes that the group will need to confiscate to better investigate. “So, we got a new lead?”
Matsuda nods enthusiastically and runs over to the microphone synced to Mr. Yagami’s cell when L grabs his arm and pulls back. “I’m going to ask you to refrain from needlessly sharing information.”
The man sinks back awkwardly. “But I thought… we were going to keep the chief informed on everything…?”
Ryuzaki shakes his head slightly. “We will. But for now, we need to validate these deaths before we go haphazardly making connections that may not exist.”
Aizawa groans and flips through your laptop slightly before standing up and planning out evidence collection timeframes. “Oh come on. This might be a chance at proving Light’s innocence here! We can’t just let this slip us by.”
L narrows his eyes before passively reaching for a pastry and turning his attention back to the cells of the detainees. “We’re not. Please don’t jump to conclusions based on emotional feelings.”
The tension grows uneasy between everyone, and you stand up and collect the fallen snacks and canned drinks that Matsuda had tossed to the ground when he arrived. No one wants Light to be Kira, and everyone wants the chief to come back already– though no one also wants to overlook important details that the group has spent so long trying to collect.
Aizawa pulls a smoke from the fresh pack and gives Mogi a look of acknowledgement to head over to the NPA to recover some files before rubbing his face with frustration. “We know that. But can’t you just admit, for once, that maybe you’re wrong, L?” He snaps.
You step towards the man with a tired huff. “We also can’t just assume that Kira would suddenly jump ship to kill corporate workers without a definitive motive. It totally goes against the profile of Kira we’ve been working on– so until then we have to assume it’s still Light.”
Aizawa scoffs. “I thought Light was your friend– but it looks like you’ll just defend your boyfriend over anyone huh?”
“Excuse me?”
There’s hot anger coursing through your veins enough to make your hands begin to shake as you push forward to confront him. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Mogi goes to pull the man back but Aizawa keeps his glare on you. “Seriously? I don’t know how you can get anything done when every little thing you do has to be approved by him first. Like a damn kiss up.”
“I’m being neutral here. You’re the one being easily swayed by emotions to release Light.”
“Am I? If there’s anyone here who’s impartial it’s you.”
Matsuda bursts forward and pushes you and Aizawa apart. “Stop fighting!!” He whines with his eyes squinted shut. “Please! We get nothing done if we bicker like this.”
Ryuzaki steps forward and tugs Matsuda’s arm down to stand in front of Aizawa with an indiscernible expression. “Everyone part of this group has been vetted and approved based on their skill and abilities– not personal connection. If there’s some sort of implication you’re trying to make, maybe we should speak on it privately?”
You don’t need him to step in and defend you– it honestly makes you feel even worse that he feels the need to validate you when the argument in question is about that very act. With a huff, you push L slightly to the side and glare at Aizawa from over the shoulder of Matsuda.
“Listen. Let’s just focus on one thing at a time, ok? You guys can go get the evidence boxes for these cases and I’ll keep narrowing down a profile of the recent deaths. I’m not trying to discount Light, but I don’t want to make a mistake this deep into the investigation.”
L looks at you with a mixed expression, like he wanted to keep arguing but also admires the way you do your best to cool off on your own. Mogi elbows Aizawa in the ribs and ushers the man forward.
“Yea… sorry. Didn’t mean to blow up like that..”
The apology is slightly forced, but the break in the argument gives enough air to let everyone take a deep breath. You nod, accepting what you can get while L maintains a steady stare at the man until they both eventually step out to head over to the NPA.
Matsuda drops his hands and sighs before slipping on his own jacket and turning to Ryuzaki. “If it’s alright, I’d also like to grab a few things. Can you get me permission from the mortuary to collect the previous medical records?”
L keeps his eyes on the shut door before turning to the man with a neutral expression. “Sure. Given the late hour, there may be a hold up, but I’ll have Watari give you the security clearance to review the files.”
Matsuda lets out an exhale of gratitude and waves off before the door shuts again and it’s just Ryuzaki and you in the room. You keep your gaze forward another moment before scoffing in exasperation and moving to plug your laptop into the corner outlet of the room. Sinking down the wall and sitting next to the cable, you don’t even bother looking up at Ryuzaki who cautiously walks over.
“You’re upset.”
You roll your eyes and begin typing away, downloading a variety of documents for each case that seems to stick out given the search parameters. Lips pursed, you don’t even bother looking up, too frustrated and angry. “Yea. I am.”
Ryuzaki nods and rocks on his feet once. “Do you want to talk about–”
“–No.”
He pauses and clicks his tongue once; he almost moves to walk back to his spot and to give you some space, but instead he lifts his foot and taps your bent leg given your curled position. “Don’t mind him, please. I meant what I said– about everyone’s abilities.”
“I know.”
You don’t need to be angry at him, but he’s only the other person in the room and for some reason your mind decides to be curt anyways. Ryuzaki shouldn’t be the target of your frustration, but you’re too tired to stop the way you curl into your laptop further and shield your view of him with the screen.
L remains standing over you for another moment, obviously not used to being the subject of simple, nearly one-word, responses. You’re supposed to be the comforting and yapping one in this relationship; the reversed roles make him uncomfortable. It also makes Ryuzaki realize he detestes to see you like this.
His hands flex and squeeze the air in awkwardness, but he finds himself unable to be any more comforting and slowly walks back to his chair to absentmindedly pick at the crumbs on a plate. The silence in the air suffocates him; the typing of your fingers, clicking of the clock, and mumbled audio of the three detainees irritates more than ever before.
How many days, weeks, had it been since the two of you actually had a moment alone?
He misses you.
Your eyes are glued to the screen as each tap of the keyboard is forced, and everytime you have to delete a typo, you press even harder as if it was the computer’s fault. Curled up and leaning against the two corners of the wall, you don’t see the way Ryuzaki pivots in his seat to watch you.
It lasts a few minutes before he swivels back around to refocus, a variety of news articles, documents, and c-suit background checks being sent to him from both Watari and you. Geez, you’re not even 20 steps away and you don’t even say a word– just message him a variety of police coverage about the ‘murders’ while you both await medical and physical evidence information.
He knows you’re not mad at him, and you know that he’s not the source of your frustration, but it doesn’t decrease the tension much. Ryuzaki’s one to hole himself up while facing bouts of frustration and depression, but seeing you isolate yourself makes him realize just how lonely that mental stare really is.
Neither of you speak for several hours, even when he paces the room, not when you stand up to stretch and use the restroom, and not even when a storm builds from outside and thunder roars above you. Matsuda and the others have been gone for several hours when there’s a ring on the coffee table from L’s spare phone.
You pause, mid standing-stretch behind the couch, and peer down at the phone while Ryuzaki picks it up and places it on speaker.
“Hey! There’s a hold up at the evidence collection– some fucking pencil pushers got these records sealed.” Mogi’s voice rings out.
You raise an eyebrow and lean over the couch to the receiver. “Wait what? Who gets records sealed for a heart attack?”
Mogi sighs on the other end and Aizawa can be heard walking towards the phone. “Not just the most recent one either– every recent big accidental death or cardiac arrest case is closed.” There’s a pause for a moment. “Do you think you can get us an extended list of all the deaths you think are connected, y/n? Maybe there’s a pattern to what’s sealed and what’s not…We– I’d really appreciate it.”
You swallow once and Ryuzaki looks up at you with large eyes. “Sure… I can send you what I have– though not all of them look like Kira motives… but you guys can deduce what you think based on their COD.”
Aizawa sighs in gratitude while you walk back to your computer to send a zip file of documents over; Ryuzaki sits upright and takes the phone. “I can get you a court order to unseal them, but it’ll take several hours given this time of night… I don’t imagine many other law enforcement officers are awake at 2:15 am.”
“We’ll take what you can get us– the sooner we can get our hands on this, the closer we are to finding Kira.” Mogi responds from the other end. “Aizawa and I will stay here till morning if we need to.”
A little bit of guilt pools in your gut, you should be working hard to clear your friend’s name too… so why are you sitting around throwing a pity party for yourself? It’s war with your own emotions, and your first solution is to bring your laptop back to the table and crack open another energy drink.
Ryuzaki gives his goodbyes and switches the line to ring Matsuda while you send over the files and down half the beverage in one go. It rings a few times until a sleepy ‘hello?’ can be heard from the other end.
“Matsuda, how are things at the mortuary? Mogi and Aizawa said their evidence files are all sealed.”
There’s a brief yawn and the sound of various voices in the background until he responds. “Yea, same thing over here for the most part. I can’t even get their previous blood work reports to see if any would be at risk of a heart attack– let alone the autopsy files.”
You shoot L an uneasy glance and sit closer to listen in.
“Was the permission Watari gave you not enough? There’s more clearance needed?” Ryuzaki murmurs, tapping on his own computer.
Matsuda hums a bit and shuffles the microphone slightly. “Ehhh that’s not it. More like, it seems that the family or businesses heavily locked down these reports to avoid unwanted media leaks. So I technically have the clearance, there’s just an absurd amount of paperwork needed to access them.”
Ryuzaki narrows his eyes and turns his attention back to the screens in front him; his gaze lingers on Light before he lifts the receiver back up. “Alright, Mogi and Aizawa are delayed as well. It may take a few hours, if you’re able to wait there.”
There’s another yawn and then the sound of a woman’s voice offering him a clipboard before he answers. “Yea that’s fine. I’ve got more than enough paperwork to keep me occupied until then.”
You let out a low whistle and L solidifies Matsuda’s decision before he ends the call and the sound of rain picks up from outside. If there ever was a symbol for a bad omen, this was certainly feeling like it.
“Our luck worsens, huh?” you murmur, staring at Misa and Light before swinging around the couch and resuming your position next him, laptop open once more.
“It’s certainly convenient timing. Though we need to be absolutely certain about this– as in, maybe even waiting several weeks until I can be sure about any sort of innocence…or ‘mind control’.”
You let out another whistle and tap away on your laptop, reaching forward for your beverage with a tired look. “The group is gonna get anxious– even more so than now.”
“That’s to be expected, considering the….incident earlier.”
You suck in a breath and shoot him a sideway glance of ‘don’t push it’ before turning back to your computer. He doesn't adhere to your silent warning.
“If you want to talk about it–”
“I don’t. Ok?... it’s something you wouldn’t understand anyways… greatest detective and all” you end sarcastically.
Ok, it’s a little bit of a bitchy remark, but he doesn’t flinch back or counter the argument; L swallows and lightly nods his head. “You’re right… I wouldn’t.”
You sit in silence, partially feeling sorry for him and yourself given the situation. You’re beyond tired, in need of a good meal, and a long shower, so your temper and emotions are all in the fray.
The clock ticks away in the background and rain steadily falls against the panes of the hotel windows while you take another long sip of your energy drink.
“You should get some sleep.”
Ryuzaki speaks without looking over at you, and you clench your jaw while continuing to stare at the screen in front of you. You don’t look over at him either; running a hand through your hair and continuing to narrow the parameters of your search. ‘Age 63, COD suicide– the man had been having a string of affairs and recently caught by his wife and children; no sort of any crime outside of adultery.’ Not in the motive of Kira; you continue flipping through the results.
“Yea, you too.” you mumble.
Ryuzaki taps his finger on the remote of the televisions and lets out a slow sigh. “You’re being stubborn, you know.”
“Ok? I’m just trying to get work done.”
He lowers the volume and the petty sound of your fingers slamming the keys of your laptop fills the silence awkwardly. You glance over slightly before leaning further onto the armrest and away from him.
“You need to rest though..”
You tap extra hard. “Sorry I can’t be as efficient as ‘the world’s best detective’ with 2 hours of sleep. So pardon my mediocre mental limitations.”
He huffs at your childish behavior and stands up to walk over to your position and gently shuts the laptop on your hands. You don’t even get a chance to squawk at him as L keeps the pressure on the lid firmly shut. “I never questioned your abilities. I’m concerned for your health.”
You swallow and look to the distant clock on the wall; the time of 3:09 am makes you sink further into your spot sheepishly. He’s being considerate, but the defensiveness from your argument with Aizawa makes your skin tingle still.
Rolling your eyes slightly to shrug off his concern, you try to pry the lid back open. “Yea ok. Feels like everyone is more concerned about you sleeping with me, than actually getting ‘rest’.”
It’s a petty and sarcastic jab, but Ryuzaki’s expression falls and he keeps his hand firmly on the computer to keep it shut. He takes a half-kneeling position on the couch cushion next to you and leans in.
“Why don’t you believe me when I say these things?” He narrows his eyes and looks into the corner of the room with a focused expression. “You believe and trust me when I give you my theories and deductions on Kira… so why are you questioning what I say now?”
You swallow and tuck your chin into your chest at being blatantly called out; a slight heat on your cheeks, you shrug. “It’s just, more complicated than that… idiot.”
He perks up at your lighter tone and gently smiles. “Ah, so I'm the ‘world’s best detective’ and also an idiot? You must have quite the mental image of me.”
“Yea, something like that” You lightly tease him, letting Ryuzaki guide your laptop from your hands and place it onto the coffee table.
You both look at each other as L sits on the couch in a watered-down version of his usual perched position; knees in his chest, but feet partially angled down the couch rather than hanging on the side. He looks from eye to eye and down to your lips before taking your now free hand and messing with the flesh once again.
“Go to bed, please. If you won’t do it for yourself, at least do it to give me some peace of mind that you won’t collapse from cardiac arrest from to caffeine overconsumption.”
You roll your eyes slightly but sigh in defeat and nod while looking back at the clock. “Yea, I will. But you should sleep with me too.”
It wasn’t supposed to be inherently flirtatious– more of a reminder that he also needs to take breaks every once in a while, but the way his eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes trying to re-clarify already shows the double meaning underneath.
The grip on his hand tightens and you rapidly blink at the innuendo. “I mean.. Uh– what I meant was…”
The words trail off and as soon as your voice dies in your throat, his lips are on yours. Ryuzaki’s knees tip over in the action to kiss you, falling into your lap and his hands leave yours and tug your jaw into him. It’s forceful and impatient, as if you had been putting him through agony by not being next to him for a few hours.
Rocking his head to a steady rhythm with yours, your hands drop to tug his shoulders in and closer to your body. Tongue pushing its way into your mouth and letting saliva pool at the crease of your lips, you rock your position to sit with your back against the armrest and splay your legs for him to lie between.
Ryuzaki pivots his chest to be aligned with yours and lets one knee rest between your thighs while the other straddles your leg and partially kneels off the edge of the couch.
It feels so hot. The lack of oxygen and the overwhelming desire for more makes you arch your back into the kiss and twitch your hips up against his pelvis where a semi was already forming. One hand cradles your jaw to keep your lips on his while the other slides down your neck in between the collar of your blouse and possessively rubs on the side of your throat.
One last rut of his tongue against yours, L pulls back slightly to peck the under portion of your jaw and nip at the exposed pieces of skin where your previous hickies had mostly faded away by now. His canines take chunks of flesh and suck hard mean bruises against your skin until his chin is rubbing the fabric of your blouse.
Sighing at the pleasure pooling between your legs and the sensation of his lips on your neck, you lightly push his head back and stare up at him. Dark, dilated, eyes pour into yours as the tv glow illuminates sections of his hair that shadow his face.
You have one hand on his cheek to push him back slightly, though neither of you say a word; L takes his hand off your jaw and holds your wrist to his lips to kiss along the spot where you typically apply your perfume.
Slipping it from his lips and smiling at his small huff, you bring your hands down to slowly undo the buttons of your work blouse. Ryuzaki is as motionless as a marble statue, intensely watching each release of the fabric until you shimmy it off your shoulders and let it drop to the floor. A light blue bra holds your tits upright, and each breath pushes them in and out of the cups slightly.
He shamelessly stares down at them, taking note of how one was seemingly a little larger than the other, and swallowing thickly before peering back up. It’s a silent ask of permission and when you nod once, his head immediately ducks down to suck the swell of your right breast.
Any flesh exposed is up for grabs, and his mouth is determined to taste each piece of surface area while his hand begins tentatively squeezing the other. Head back at the sensation, you whimper as he tests the plushness and malleability of each tit. Tongue pushing against the skin, feeling the way it softly dips with varying levels of force, he switches breasts to see if it mirrors the other.
Panties sticking to your cunt in desperate need, the erection in L’s jeans pathetically rubs against the clothed mound of your pussy for any sort of friction. Saliva dripping down the valley of your breasts and saturating the covered underwire of your bra, Ryuzaki pulls back to snap the band slightly against your ribs.
“...May I?”
“Yea… you can.”
Pressing his lips back up to yours, he snakes a hand around to feel the metal clasps of the garment for a few moments. Fingers tracing the small shape of the hook and tugging on the elastic pull in a quick test, he pinches the material and releases the lock with one hand.
The straps fall from your shoulders and you let the bra fall to the side of the couch with an eyebrow raised at the man.
“You’re… surprisingly quick at that.”
Ryuzaki shrugs, his attention more focused on the way how each hand squeezes a breast and pinches your nipples. “Hm? Oh– well it was in the way…”
It’s not an explanation, but when his lips latch onto a nipple and suck, you don’t really care for one. Teeth lightly pinching the sensitive flesh to see which amount of pressure elicits the sound he likes the most from your lips, he switches between the two as if he can’t make up his mind which one he likes more.
One breast is slightly larger, there’s more recoil and softness to it when he squeezes and bites at it; the one that’s slightly smaller makes him think he could probably pop the whole thing in his mouth if he just stretched his jaw a little wider, right? Maybe in time.
Head clouded with pleasure, you tug him further into your chest and swing a leg around his ass to push his groin into you with more force.
“Ahh!-- ngh..”
He groans into your chest with a shiver as his erection throbs against his jeans and pathetically grinds into you. Leg hooked around him, you guide the motion of thrusts and let him dry hump you while keeping his face buried in his chest.
It feels damn good too. While you would love nothing more than to have him sink his cock inside, letting him get the motion down seems like a good starting point.
Teeth pinching and sucking on your breasts with enough saliva that the white of his shirt is becoming transparent from the saturation seeping onto it, he mimics the thrust of his hips against you.
“fuck…Ryuza–”
“ –L…. Just L, please.”
You pause and gnaw on your lip to partially suppress a moan when a particular swing of his pelvis grinds into your clothed clit with enough pressure. His motions are erratic and he’s borderline shaking with each jerk and twitch.
“Oh, f-fuck.. L–”
“Agh–! I.. i’m–”
Head raised slightly above your breasts, L’s hips twitch uncontrollably against you as he nearly sobs a deep and guttural groan. A shaky breath escaping his lips and eyes nearly hooding over entirely, he drops his head down and pants.
You tug at the strands of his hair and lightly pet at the nape of his neck when a warm and wet sensation pools on your lower navel. Scooting up on the couch slightly, you gently guide him upright and freeze at the dark saturated patch of cum in his jeans and a few smears of semen that stick to where he had just rubbed against you.
You pause. There’s a first time for everything– and a guy creaming in his pants from just humping and sucking your tits is certainly an ego boost.
L sucks in a few shaky breaths before tugging his leg back onto the couch and rocking back to sit on his heels; his eyes dilated pure black as he slowly looks down to the mess of his pants.
“I…”
You sit up and take his hand, grounding him with a few soft squeezes before pushing a mess of hair away from his eyes. “Are you ok?”
He swallows once and leans back down to the curve of your neck with steady breath once more. “Yes…I think so. But… it might stain.”
Glancing down, you can see the sticky residue of the cum that seeped from his denim smearing on the fly of your slacks. Black fabric absorbing the white opaque semen, you gasp when his teeth sink into your neck and his hands trace down to tug on the belt loops of your pants.
“Should probably take them off…”
You sigh as his tongue rubs over the bruised flesh of your neck and groan with a nod of your head; deft fingers immediately work to pop the button and release the fly. You nudge his head back up to meet your lips with a soft kiss; smiling with glazed eyes and tugging the fabric of his shirt up and over his head. The hickies nearly faded by now, you trace the visible veins on his pale flesh before he pulls on the band of your slacks and motions for you to help him.
When you lift your hips up to let him tug the materials down your legs and kick them off your ankles, he pauses and sits up before standing.
“Wait, not here– or rather, not on here.”
You take his hand and let him guide you towards the back bedroom; the same act he had done every night for months, though now much more real.
Clothes still on the floor, his cum on your stomach, and walking in solely your panties, L guides you into the bedroom and hastily shuts the door; pressing you back towards the bed with his lips eagerly attaching to yours.
The plush mattress dips beneath you, as the two of you clumsily climb up onto it. It starts as another seated makeout session until he’s snapping the elastic of your panties against the bone of your hip a few times.
“Maybe… these can come off?” He looks at you as if the suggestion was more of an order.
You peck his lips once more and shimmy to the side of the bed to kick your soaked garment to the ground; when you turn back around, L is laying flat against the mattress.
You pause and crawl up to him, not quite understanding the sudden position until he stretches out a hand and tugs on the flesh of your thigh. Letting your leg be guided up until his shoulder, you freeze and peer down at him in shock.
“Wait…what?”
It's a freaky position– especially for his first time doing this.
“Here.” He casually removes his hands and brings his index finger to point at mouth with a look of expectation. “You’re supposed to sit here.”
…
You swallow and look back down at him in pure shock, though you let yourself be guided to hover just above his face and tentatively grab the headboard. Looking up at you, L juts his chin out, but the distance is still too great to get any taste; he shoots you an impatient look.
“Why are you not coming down here?”
“Well… what if I like–” you shrug in slight mortification. “I don’t know, like crush you or something? I’m not sure if I can really explain that to the rest of the group…”
Two hands snake up to the plush of your hips and pinch the flesh between his fingertips. “I’ve researched this– and I hypothesize I would prefer to die here than from Kira.” He tugs you down slightly. “So please, allow me to test this theory.”
With a final tug, you lower down onto his lips and suck in a breath when his tongue lays flat to lick a long stripe up your cunt. He opens his mouth wide to protrude his entire muscle and you arch your back at the sensation.
It’s entirely lewd.
Without a doubt, it’s his first time eating a woman out, but the act itself is what’s making you stutter. It wasn’t like he was trying to get you to cum quickly– it was like he was genuinely trying to taste you.
Hands keeping your hips down, he groans into your pussy and runs his tongue along your folds a few more times before slipping inside and grinding his nose into your clit. Your own hands squeeze the headboard until your knuckles are white, as he kisses into your cunt in the same fashion he does your mouth.
Teeth occasionally nipping at an outer lip, tongue squirming around inside, and lots of saliva and arousal dripping down his chin– your hips stutter against his face and moans fall from your mouth. He flicks the muscle around inside a moment more before tilting his head to the side with a deep inhale for oxygen.
“Sorry, am I–”
“ –keep your hips slightly up.” he interrupts.
You look down at him; large dark eyes already boring into your own. Obeying his command, you raise up slightly from your position and ramble about he didn’t need to be doing ‘this’ if he was uncomfortable.
“... and if you would rather–”
“Ah! Perfect.”
Before you can continue your spiel, a long slender finger slips through the first ring of muscle of your pussy and curls slightly from inside.
“Oh— fuck!”
Cautiously watching your reaction, L keeps his eyes on you before darting back down to the way his index finger disappears inside you with a ‘squelch!’
He leans up to suck on your clit and rut his tongue against it before peeling back to watch his hand and your facial emotions once again. Slipping in a second finger, he keeps his eyes on the way your body twitches in pleasure.
“I needed room for my wrist.” He neutrally explains before leaning up against to lick his fingers as they slide in and out of your cunt, letting his tongue continue tasting each drop of your arousal.
You wire your eyes shut and clench around his hand, mind going numb when his fingerpads graze that one spot from within you.
“Ngh– s-shit!”
L stops for a moment, glances up at you, and then wiggles his fingers inside you– grinding against your g-spot. In a testing motion, he curls the tip of his index and middle in a ‘come here’ motion; you nearly crack the headboard at the feeling.
“Ah, so it’s here… interesting….” He murmurs before attaching his lips to the swollen bulb of your clit once more.
Grinding down onto his hand a bit more, you can feel your slick dripping down his fingers with every erotic squelch that escapes. Your mind feels like complete mush as you can feel that elastic band in your core getting tighter and tighter as he keeps his tempo at an even pace.
Biting your lip and pushing down a liiiittle more in chase of your high, a whine escapes your lips when he suddenly slips his fingers out and gently guides your hips to the side of his face.
Panting in confusion, but letting yourself be swayed to the side when he partially sits upright with a satisfied look on his face.
“I knew I’d be able to find it– or well both in all honesty. Now, judging based on the sound, I’d also say you’re now properly aroused as well. It’s good to ensure enough lubrication before going further.”
He takes a finger to his lips and sucks the residual fluid off it while you attempt to calm your breathing and give him an incredulous look. “B-But… I was so close…”
L pauses, finger still in his mouth when he realizes that there was another motive to having you ride his face aside from his personal mission to prove he could locate the clit and g-spot. To be fair, he figured it would get you turned on enough to be prepared for more, to hear that he was about to make you cum washes him with a mixture of pride and embarrassment of stopping short.
“O-oh!” he scrambles up slightly and flicks his fingers a few times in anxious energy. “Right– of course! We can… we can continue– I’ll just lay back down and you can–”
“No.”
He freezes and looks at you with eyes wide that you can see the white all the way around the irises.
You lean over to him with impatience. “No, I need you inside me– now.”
Jaw slack at the command, he blinks a few times before absolutely scrambling to shimmy off his jeans. He throws himself to the edge of the bed and tries to shove his pants off with haste, until he realizes the button wasn’t undone and nearly rips it from the fabric to release.
Kicking the denim to the ground along with his boxers, L spins back around, partially tripping on the comforter to climb back up towards you.
“R-right so…” he traces the knuckles of your hands in anticipation.
Admiring the scene in front of you, a smile adorns your face before your expression drops and you look around the room. “Shit, wait. Do you have a condom…?”
It’s by far a longshot, and L genuinely thinks about it for a moment before opening his mouth and sheepishly shutting it again with a distracted look.
“What?” you question with an eyebrow raise.
“...you wouldn’t like my answer.”
You pause and give him a tilted look before noticing the painful pulse of his cock that stands at full attention. “Well, unless you'd rather go back to work…”
“You wouldn’t…” he purses his lips and looks in the corner of the room with a quiet tone. “...get pregnant….”
…
He senses your pause and brings his hand from your knuckles to your navel. “...you’re in the luteal phase right now…”
Shutting your eyes and placing the ‘I thought we already had the chat about tracking my period cycle’ into a list of tasks you can take on after a full night’s sleep, you exhale and shrug.
“Right. In that case then–” you tug him back into you and place a messy kiss to his lips before guiding him to sit against the headboard.
Crawling up his lap and taking his face in your hands, you look from eye to eye in a moment of seriousness. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to do anything you know?”
L lets himself be held in your palms and tilts his face to place a soft peck to your wrist. “If it’s with you, I’d like to continue…”
Wetting your lips and leaning in for a soft and slow kiss, L sucks in a shallow breath when you line his tip up with your entrance. Pre-cum profusely pearling and dripping from his slit, you drag his cock up and down your folds to lubricate a bit more before sinking down an inch.
And you were the one who was just edged a few minutes ago, but he’s the one with his head immediately thrown back into the pillows.
Black hair fluffed around him, L’s jaw falls slack as you slowly lower down.
The stretch is a burn you haven’t felt in a while, and the sensation of feeling so full makes your toes curl into the comforter below you both. Giving a few shallow bounces to test the feeling, you lower your hips down the rest of the way and bottom out while L rolls his head beneath you.
If he was mind numb with pleasure when you sucked him off the other week, he was completely unable to process a single coherent thought now. Or in your terms, completely pussydrunk.
Bouncing your knees against the mattress to a steady and slow rhythm, the sound of your ass hitting his lap fills the rooms with a ‘smack! Smack! Smack!’.
Smiling at his disheveled appearance, you peer down to watch the way he sinks inside when you finally notice little red bumps that adorn sections of his base. Hair thinner and shorter than a few weeks ago, the tufts of pubes that aren’t matted with sweat and cum have recently been shaved down.
A gentle smile on your lips, you rock forward and let the swollen tip of his cock grind against your g-spot with intensified desire. Knees slightly aching and hips getting tired, you keep up the pace with fervor to orgasm while L withers beneath you with eyes wired shut.
“Are you ok… L–”
“Shh… agh–” He grimaces and groans when you clench around him with a particularly intense bounce. “If-If you talk… I’ll cum.. aghh–”
Beneath his sealed eyes, L is desperately trying to think of anything else at this moment. But he can’t.
Each time he tries to drag his mind back to the investigation, he’s haunted with visions of you sitting beside him, and working so hard without any idea of the physical and mental torture you put the poor man through.
Hands gripping the comforter beneath him for a moment, he flexes his thighs beneath you and absentmindedly shuffles you further onto his cock.
The angle is just a bit deeper to kiss your cervix and grind against the rough patch within your cunt that you hunch forward and grind your hips in frantic search of an orgasm. Room thick with the smell of sex, beads of sweat drip from your skin at the exercise and the window could nearly fog over given the change in temperature.
Grinding in a back-and-forth motion, the mattress creaks beneath you as you rub your clit against his pelvis with a heightened tempo. “F-fuck– L… gonna cum”
The cable in your abdomen is so tightly wound that you barely notice the way the man beneath is fighting for his life at the sensation washing over him. A particular flex of his thigh beneath you and quickened bounce surges pleasure over you as the previously denied orgasm rips through you.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck” you ramble while grinding down onto the man; a cream ring forming around his base as you use his cock to fuck you through your high.
Hands leaving their clutched position of the comforter to your hips, you can nearly hear him whisper ‘finally’ before he’s positioning his pelvis up and into you at an erratic pace. Eyes peeling open slightly to take in the way your tits bounce with each motion, L bites his lip and groans as he slips the tip of his cock in and out while cumming.
Hot shoots of semen leak from his tip and pour up into your cunt as the sensation of feeling even fuller makes you shiver and clench around him even more.
“C-cumming… i’m cumming–” he manages to communicate before deflating onto the mattress as if he had just collapsed of heart failure himself.
Hot pants escaping both of your lips, you take in the raw and warm moment of being connected before slipping off him with a wincing at the empty feeling. You fall onto the mattress next to him in exhaustion and pleasure. Despite his fucked-out state, L’s eyes drop to the mixture of your cum pooling out of your pussy with an unreadable expression.
“That was… nice.”
You lean your head back to let out a single ‘ha’ at the simple phrasing before turning to him with an amused expression. “Yep. very nice.”
He senses the teasing tone in your voice and returns the gentle smile before scooting closer to you on the bed. Hand once again wrapping around your own, Ryuzaki tilts his head to plant a few soft kisses to your lips.
“I can have medication arranged if you’re worried about… the…” his words trail off. Asking you to ride his face was fine, but implying that the creampie he just gave you might still have some risk was too much– even for him.
“Yea… that’s probably a good idea.” You run your hand down his chest, enjoying the thrum of his heart in his chest before sitting up and shimmying to the edge of the bed.
“You don’t want to rest?” He asks, sitting right up after you.
“Huh? Of course I do, I just want to shower first.”
L calms down slightly and nods; his own pelvis a mixture of cum and sweat that would need to be rinsed off before doing anything else.
Walking over to the ensuite, you flick on the lights and take in the large shower within the suite. “Do you have any spare towels I can use?” your voice echoes in the tiled room.
Ryuzaki scoots off the bed and pads over to the bathroom to flip through a few baskets and tugging out a variety of spare linens. Before he can dig further, there’s a ping at his desk from Watari.
Looking over to the pager with a frustrated look, L shoots you a pout. “I have to take that… but I’ll bring you fresh clothes as well. Yours got dirty after all.”
You turn the hot water on and test the temperature before pinching his bicep. “Yea, and I wonder who’s fault that was.”
“If you’d like criminal investigation services, I’m sure I can get to the bottom of that mystery.”
You laugh and hang a towel over the shower door for easy access and watch the way he doesn’t want to move from his spot next to you despite the shrill of the pager in the connected room.
“Is it ok if I sleep here for a bit after?”
Ryuzaki watches the water and nods. “Of course. I’ll use the shower after you then.”
You smile at the man and place a chaste peck to his lips before slipping through the glass door and sighing at the hot water relaxing your skin and tired muscles; pager ringing once more, L shuffles out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom.
Slipping on his soiled boxers and jeans with a grimace, he leans over to pocket your discarded panties and takes the pager from the desk and balances it between his ear and shoulder.
“Yes, Watari?”
There’s a muffled voice on the other end as L slips back into the main suite room and picks up the evidence of your evening before tossing it into a hamper within his bedroom.
“There’s been no break in Misa’s behavior still. I’m calling to let you know I will be resting for a few hours, but will remain on call if you need it.”
Ryuzaki purses his lips at the announcement and peers out at the living tv at the screen of Light passively sleeping in his cell. Pulling his dresser drawers open, he tugs out an old gray t-shirt and set flannel sleep pants he hasn’t even worn in several years.
“Alright, and her reactions for a lawyer or court representation?” He mumbles into the receiver before gently knocking on the bathroom door and placing the stack of clothes on the sink counter.
“No change. Each referral to her rights gets nowhere– even the previous attempt at self harm has completely stopped.”
L takes the hangnail of his thumb between his teeth and pads out of the bedroom back over to the television screen of camera positions while the water shuts off in the background. The image of a certain peaceful and incapacitated man catching his attention for a few moments.
“She still calls out for Light though. Interesting that even with a complete memory wipe, he’s still present.”
Watari sighs slightly on the other end and offers additional updates in the morning– 7am just 3 hours away. With a quiet ‘goodnight’, he shuts the device and heads back into the bedroom where you stand, fully dressed in his clothing, while toweling off your damp hair.
“Ah, shower’s all yours.”
Ryuzaki stands motionless for another moment, not completely out of character, but completely out of his element another time this evening. The image of you so domestically wearing his old pajamas and tossing the towel over the bathroom door to dry before peeling back his sheets makes his mouth dry and his heart rate quicken.
Rain steadily hitting against the panes and silence except for the clock on the wall, in another life he wonders if this is what he would see each evening when he would retire for bed. You curled up in a warm spot, leaving space for him beside you. Maybe you’d read together in the evening, or on a particularly tired night, you’d scratch through his hair and tell him all the little details about your day. It's a vision he’s never seen before, and one he’s not sure will ever leave his mind again.
Despite being right in front of him, the scene feels out of reach and he nods while heading for the bathroom.
“Right, thank you.”
No amount of hot water and steam can fully shake the foreign feeling in his bones and the rinse ends after 15 minutes of earnest deliberation. By the time he’s dressed in a baggy white-tee and oversized sweatpants, there’s soft snores coming from your side of the bed.
…
Your side of the bed?
L swallows slightly and cautiously walks over to the mattress, unsure of what to do.
When you’re clawing at each other to get your clothes off, he finds his mind being melted into a puddle of desire at the feeling of your touch. It’s easy to get swept up in the motions– or at least easier than having to face the tight feeling in his chest that happens in those moments in between.
He had missed out on more pleasures in life that he had ever expected, and after experiencing some of them once, he knows it’s only a matter of time before he craves it again. The light rise in your chest with each deep breath and soft snore makes him need you in more ways than one.
Pulling back the thick blankets and slipping into the spot beside you, the feeling of sleeping in an actual bed creates a foreign feeling. Any other time he required sleep, it would be short and proactive naps that usually took place in a chair or simply on top of the comforter. When you roll over in your sleep to face him, a new definition for ‘heading to bed’ is created.
Hair slightly in your face and lips parted to let out a small pool of drool and snores, Ryuzaki doesn’t care if he needs the sleep or not– he doesn’t want to leave this bed.
Tugging the comforter back up and onto his body, he clenches his hand a few times before cautiously scooting forward and resting his head on the edge of his pillow and inches away from yours.
Your skin is still warm from the shower and your body is curled towards him with your legs automatically beginning to vine and snake around his own on instinct. Ryzaki doesn’t say anything, he just mentally traces every detail of your relaxed expression and lets himself become tangled with you.
Arm reaching around your waist and tugging you closer into him, he pauses to lower his head to your chest, not moving from its spot until the soft ‘ba-dum!’ of your heartbeat causes a long exhale to escape his nose. Swallowing the thick anxious emotion that had been rooted in his throat, he lifts you up and into the curve of his neck and lets your bodies merge under the covers.
There’s no ping from Matsuda at the mortuary, and there’s no call from Aizawa and Mogi at the evidence lockers. There’s only the steady tick of the analog clock on the wall, the patter of rain hitting the windows outside, and the soft snores escaping your lips.
Scooting further into your body and gently closing his eyes, L falls asleep beside you. And for the first time in a while, he dreams.
a/n
OMG IM SORRY I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG
-> i had 7 finals total and got like 0 sleep the past week BUT I CAME BACK
[i won't abandon this series i promise! i just have a really bad sleep schedule!!]
anyways~~
i really hope you guys liked this chapter -> i will have future chapters with smut too, but i needed to pace this one out for ur first time w/ L
ALSO: i have decided to break the canon and keep him ALIVE. [ive already drafted how i want to do that heheh]
next chapter starts w/ Light's memory loss and gets into the issue of him and L being handcuffed sooo.... stay tuned
ILY POOKIES, U GUYS LITERALLY MAKE MY DAY WITH ALL THE COMMENTS AND MESSAGES ABOUT THIS SERIES!!! <333
It isn't that L doesn't *understand* it, but to him, the question itself is flawed. How can he be sure if he would "still love you if you were a worm," with so many unknowns? Was he present when you were changed? Or, barring that, how would he know this worm is you? Do you, in this scenario, retain your human intelligence? Or are you now stuck at the level of sentience of a worm? Of course, his feelings for you as a person would be unchanged, but to know what would become of your worm body relies entirely on these additional factors.
With the blank face and thumb chewing you were met with at first, it would be easy to assume he was about to say something about not being interested in pointless, and frankly ridiculous, hypotheticals. But no, the boy was simply baffled you could expect him to draw conclusions from such a broad question. What was supposed to be a quick interaction to ease a silly anxiety became an entire conversation, with diagrams and logic trees. And it was decided, after a long, in-depth discussion, that if you are ever to be turned into a worm for whatever reason: you should curl tightly into a ball so that he can identify you.
L will always share his desserts with you ,no matter how much he loves them.
„Here ,take the strawberry on top — it’s the best part. But only this time.“
Blunt Compliments
L compliments you in the most straightforward ways.
„Your intelligence is statistically higher than anyone I‘ve met.. except for me.“
Late Nights
L rarely sleeps ,so he often pulls you into late-night talks.
He wakes you up at 2 a.m. to show you how the moonlight perfectly reflects on his tea cup. "I calculated the odds of this happening again, and it's less than 2%. You had to see it."
Protectiveness in Silence
L won't say much about it ,but his actions scream protectiveness.
Like walking on the outside of the sidewalk or ensuring you have a blanket. "It’s cold. I’ll bring you some tea."
Little Games
L loves turning everyday things into puzzles or challenges.
"Guess how many sugar cubes are in my coffee.“
Tactile Affection
L is not big on PDA ,but he’ll absentmindedly hold your hand while working.
"I work better this way.“
Attention to Detail
L remembers even the smallest things about you ,from your favorite snacks to how you like your tea.
"I brought this brand of cookies because I noticed you finish them faster than others."
Overthinking Love
L overanalyzes everything ,sometimes even your relationship ,but it’s only because he wants you to be happy.
"Do you think spending time apart will increase our fondness for each other by 7% or decrease it by 12%?"
Surprising Gentleness
L is despite his cold exterior incredibly gentle and thoughtful during emotional moments.
When you’re upset ,L quietly sits beside you ,offering your favorite snack without a word until you’re ready to talk. "Comfort can be offered in silence. Does this help?“
summary: yn has a shitty ex n L lowk teasing her for it while makin out
warnings: suggestive, bad writing, L is real touchy 🤤, ooc haha sorry
a/n: i haven’t written in 4ever n it’s not finished yet….i kinda got lazy at the end LOL enjoy anyway
The dim light of the room cast soft shadows on the walls as you feel your breath hitched. L's piercing gaze was locked on yours, his thumb idly tracing circles along your wrist as he leaned closer, smelling his coffee breath.
"I'm... I'm not used to this," you stuttered, honestly it sounded like a whisper more than anything.
L paused for a split second, his dark eyes glinting with curiosity. "Oh?" His head tilted slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You're not?"
you feel your cheeks burn as you broke eye contact, your gaze darting off to the side. Too embarrassed to even look at L. You tried to focus on anything else but the way his fingers slowly trailed upward, grazing your arm and creeping closer to your chest, it left you star struck.
"I thought you were experienced with this type of stuff," L said, feigning confusion. His voice was soft but laced with amusement head tilting further as if to study your reaction. You widened your eyes in shock. "Well! I mean—my ex never-" you cut yourself off abruptly, your hands flying to your face feeling even more embarrassed… L's smirk grew as he leaned in, his voice low and teasing. "Your ex never what, Y/n ? Touched you like this?" His hands slid down your sides, his touch light but deliberate. You shook slightly under his gaze, your voice muffled as you spoke out through your hands. "He never... touched me like how you do."
You peeked through your fingers, only to be met with L's intense stare. He chuckled softly, his fingers curling around your wrists to gently pull them away from your face. Feelings his cold, slender fingers on your wrist, making you even blush harder.
"Come on now," he said, his tone warm yet teasing. "Let me see your beautiful face." your lips parting to protest, but the words caught in your throat as L's eyes bore into yours. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the warmth of his hands taking over your mind. the way you could feel L’s hands all over your body, not even leaving a space empty, it’s like L has touched your entire body at this point without a second to spare.
"L..." you murmured out softly, your voice trembling. "Please... please be gentle with me."
L paused for a brief moment. It seemed like his teasing demeanor softened for just a moment as his thumb brushed against your cheek, his dark eyes flickering with something unspoken.
"I will," he whispered, his voice suddenly more tender. His lips found yours again, softer this time, as his hands settled on your waist, holding you steady, his hands rose up to your face, cupping it gently as he deepened the kiss between you two, slightly moaning into the passionate kiss. Sadly It didn’t even last long before L kissed you roughly, you gasped when you felt his hand slide up your thigh, his touch featherlight but enough to make your knees weak. you instinctively gripped his shirt, your fingers curling into the fabric as if to steady yourself.
"L….mhn” your voice barely audible between kisses.
His lips left yours briefly, trailing down to your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, He smirked clearly enjoying the way your body responded to him, kissing your neck ever so slightly, placing kisses randomly. Soon you felt his warm wet tongue on your neck, he was making somewhat of an shape- you couldn’t even focus on what shape it was before he bit down. Your hands flew to his shoulders, gripping him tightly, you couldn't help the small whimper that escaped your mouth, He than started to make the same shape again with his tongue- now trying to figure out what type of it was…. ah it was a heart, how cute!
L pulled away and soon his lips were on yours again, this time hungrier, needier. His hands tightened around your waist, the sensation of his hands roaming your body left you unable to do anything but melt into him.
