The hotel room was silent enough for a pindrop to echo. Not a single sound from the city below filtered through the thick windows, the walls. Light had confirmed as much, ensured they were entirely soundproof.
He didn’t like risks.
He calculated them.
Y/N stood near the blind blocked window, posture composed, back straight despite the obvious tension threading her shoulders. She didn’t speak, didn’t move. She wouldn’t dare-- not until he acknowledged her.
Light poured himself a glass of water at the counter in the edge of the room. Calm. Controlled.
“You arrived on time,” he said without turning around.
Her voice came soft. but certain. “You asked for me. I wouldnt have made you wait.”
He took a sip, then set the glass down. The faintest smile touched his lips. “Blind obedience. Anyone would be reasonable enough to consider that… stupid.”
“I don’t think its stupid to believe in something greater than myself.”
He turned to face her.
Y/N held his gaze—hands still clasped before, waiting. She looked at him the way others looked at icons in magazines.
Light stepped closer. “And you’re certain I’m that something greater?”
“You’re not ‘something,’” she murmured. “You’re everything.”
There was a long pause. Then he laughed. Delighted. Deranged.
“So youre not a supporter—you’re a radical.”
“If thats what you want to call me.”
Light’s expression shifted, something analytical flickering behind his eyes. He looked at her like a test result exactly as expected.
“Fanaticism,” he mused, “isn’t inherently useful. It burns out quickly. But devotion? Obedience? That lasts.”
He stepped into her space. Not roughly, not with heat—just presence. Purpose. His eyes didn’t drop to her lips, or her dress. He looked straight into her like he was examining her soul.
“Tell me,” he said quietly. “How far would you go to prove your loyalty?”
She didn’t hesitate. “As far as you ask.”
“You’d die for me?”
“I’d rather live for you,” she whispered, “but yes. If you wanted my death, Id offer it.”
Light’s head tilted slightly. “I don’t require your death. That would be wasteful.”
He brushed a hand through his hair, casual. Calculated.
“But I do require your obedience.”
“Okay.”
He stepped back half a pace, just enough to assess her properly. There was no fear in her, no attempt to seduce him, no nervous laughter to soften the tension. She was serious.
That was rare. And valuable. He could almost calculate all the ways he could use her to seem innocent. To make everyone understand that Kira was god on earth.
“Take off your coat,” he said.
She obeyed immediately, slipping the black wool from her shoulders. Her dress clung modestly to her frame, but the exposure was deliberate. Intentional submission.
He gestured with a glance. “On the chair.”
She did, then returned to stand before him.
He circled her once, slowly. His footsteps were quiet on the carpet, each movement deliberate. Not as a man tempted by beauty. But as a god testing the defects of an offering.
“You’re very calm,” he said from behind her. “Most people shake under pressure. Especially women like you-- young, eager, idealistic.”
She didn’t flinch.
“On your knees.”
She lowered herself to the carpet like she’d rehearsed it. No hesitation.
He stepped in front of her. Her gaze lingering at his shoes.
“Look at me,” he said.
She did.
There was that suffocating silence again. He let it stretch, watching her. Her lips were parted slightly. Her pupils dilated. Her hands rested neatly on her thighs.
Light touched her chin, tilting her face up just slightly. “Youre cute when you know your place.”
A shiver passed through her.
“Tell me,” he said softly. “Who do you belong to?”
“To you,” she breathed. “To Kira.”
“Say it properly.”
She straightened slightly, eyes glassy with reverence. “You are Kira. You are my god.”
Light smiled. Not indulgently. Not cruelly. But with a quiet, terrible, psychopathic satisfaction.
Control began before a word was ever spoken.
Light turned away-- sat on the edge of the bed, legs parted, sleeves rolled just enough to seem casual, collar still buttoned. His belt remained fastened. He hadn’t so much as loosened his tie.
He didn’t need to.
Her eyes followed every subtle motion of his—like he was gravity and she was barely resisting orbit.
“I didn’t ask you here for this,” he said, his tone even, smooth. “But I expected it.”
Y/N swallowed. “If it’s not what you want—”
“I didn’t say that,” he interrupted gently. “You misunderstand me.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “Devotion has many forms. Some people offer praise. Others offer service. But... there are ones who offer themselves without being told.”
Her breath caught.
“I want to see what kind of believer you are,” he said. “If your faith in me is more than words. If it’s... instinct.”
She nodded slowly, a flush spreading across her cheeks. “Let me show you.”
Light didn’t touch her. He didn’t need to.
“Then show me.”
She moved. Carefully, like every motion was sacred. Her fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress. She pulled it down, and her eyes never left his.
The dress slid from her body and pooled at her feet. She stepped out of it and stood there—bare, trembling, yet completely still. Waiting.
He simply watched her, back straight, watching her like a king accepting an offering.
She moved to him—crawling onto his lap, knees on either side of his thighs, the heat of her body meeting the cold of his. Her fingers reached for his belt, but paused.
He raised a brow.
“Yes,” he said simply.
She undid it with care, tugging just enough to free him, but not daring to ask for more. He didn’t rush her. He let her discover him. Let her choose this.
And in that silence, she believed it was her decision.
She practically gaped for a moment, just holding him, stroking him lightly until her got hard. And when he did, she carefully pulled the fabric of her underwear to the side, sinking down on him, it was slow—achingly so. Her mouth fell open, hands gripping his shirt for balance. He didn’t grunt, didn’t pant, didn’t lose control, show enjoyment. His hands stayed firm on her hips, fingers pressing lightly into skin.
As she seated herself fully, her eyes closed, overwhelmed.
“You feel that?” he murmured, lips close to her ear. “That’s not pleasure. That’s purpose.”
She moaned softly, her body already trembling. She moved cautiously, carefully, as if afraid to disappoint him.
He didn’t thrust—he guided. Subtle shifts of his hands, the tension in his thighs beneath her, kept her rhythm exactly where he wanted it.
“Every part of you,” he whispered, “was made for this. To serve. For me.”
She whimpered, clutching the fabric of his shirt. “I want to serve you. I want to be enough.”
His voice was a caress and a leash all at once. “You are. Right now, you are. Your god.”
The praise was soft but surgical. She rode him with more urgency now, the slap of her thighs against his fabric shielded ones audible in the stillness of the room. Her breath stuttered, skin glowing in the low, flickering light (ha! what an amazing double entendre! im such a good writer!! and i totally dont feel corny at all!).
He brushed her hair back with careful fingers. Let her think it was tenderness.
In truth, he was watching her eyes. Calculating. Measuring how far she’d go. If it was true loyalty, or dumb desperation.
For validation, for love, for purpose.
“You were always going to end up here,” he said. “Worshiping me. Giving yourself to something greater. You were meant to serve.”
She buried her face into his neck, moaning softly as she moved faster. “Yes… Yes—Light, please—”
“Say it properly.”
“Kira,” she gasped. “God—my god—”
“That’s better.”
Her walls clenched around him, her entire body shaking. She was close, and he knew it. He tilted his head down, voice lowering to a purr.
“You don’t need my permission,” he whispered. “You already have my favor.”
That pushed her over. She broke apart with a soft, choked cry, burying herself in his chest. Her entire body convulsed around him, pleasure rippling through her in waves.
He let her come undone.
He didn’t move to finish. Not yet.
Instead, he ran a hand slowly down her back, tracing her spine with careful fingers.
“You did well,” he murmured against her temple. “You should be proud.”
She whimpered, still catching her breath, her forehead pressed against the collar of his shirt. His scent surrounded her—clean, sharp, untouched.
“You… You didn’t finish,” she said, dazed.
“I will,” he said calmly. “When I choose to.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, voice honey-sweet.
“But don’t worry. You’ve pleased me. You’ve proven your worth.”
She looked up at him, dazed and glowing. Her eyes sparkled, lips parted. She thought she mattered.
AN: Yes guys, im back from my vacation! so the little hiatus on the fics is done and im gonna go back to being consistent. This is kind of a deranged way to come back from a break, ngl! I wouldve written but i left my laptop at home and i CANNOT stand writing on a phone, plus my fonts and separators and all that bs was on my laptop. but i drew a lot! more art content coming soon fs. I know yall dc but i thought i should let u guys knaur.
big spooning you as we drift off to sleep with only tshirts on
my arm resting on your side, using my fingers lazily to play with u, tracing slow, gentle lines up and down your boy pussy until you start to drip, your eyelids fluttering with pleasure
i trail my fingers off, lightly dragging my nails up your side before i grab your waist, my other hand moving from underneath you to run my fingers through your hair.
"mmh?"now fully awake, you turn to look, and i bring my knee up between your legs, pressing it against your core. you gasp and i start to move it. "does that feel good?" i ask, and you nod frantically, desperate for more
i use the length of my thigh to get more friction, and we get into a steady rhythm, you almost whimpering at every movement. i take my hand off your waist and draw circles along your happy trail, teasing you.
you let out a louder cry, needing more, and i give you exactly what you want. after gathering some wetness with my fingers, i put a finger on either side of your dick and rub firmly
It was a huge ask, and you knew that. You had always pushed the thought away, but no matter how tightly you tried to shove it into a box in the corner of your mind, it was like you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to give him every piece of you, to have trust in him fully.
If you were being honest, you had fantasized about it long before you were ever dating. You had been part of the small group of Mindjack fans, nearly losing your mind when you met him, the most cliche of circumstances. You had crashed into him one morning rushing out of a local coffee shop, your entire drink splashing all over the both of you as you frantically tried to apologize, stopping short as you looked into his face, his tired eyes looking back at you, a soft smile on his face.
“How can I pay you back? I could get you a new shirt, there’s a new-” You waved your hands in worry, pulling napkins and beginning to bloat his shirt from the hot chai before you could stop yourself.
“How about your number?” His voice made you pause, instantly wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole as he gripped your wrists lightly, chucking softly at your antics.
“My number?” You squeaked out, and he only nodded, a lopsided grin on his face.
That had been over a year ago, and you began dating a few weeks after that. With a firm nod to yourself, you decided that tonight would be the night. You would ask him if you could give him complete control, and whatever happened after that would be fine with you. He would never hurt you, and you knew that, but something about giving yourself over entirely made your spine tingle.
Reasoning with yourself, the worst thing that would happen was that he said no. Maybe he would think it was a little weird, but it wouldn’t be as weird as the basically mini Mindjack shrine you had in your room, forever embarrassed by the way he only cocked an eyebrow at you upon finding it the first night he was in your room.
It really wasn’t crazy, only two little figures and a poster, but he would always refer to it as your shrine, almost choking to death on his drink as you turned away from him, pouting, forgetting that you were wearing a pair of booty shorts that read “Property of Mindjack”. Most of the pros had them made one year, and obviously you had to get them. Sue you for being a fan.
You laughed quietly to yourself as you stirred the food on the stove top, tension easing somewhat. Asking him to use his quirk on you was far less weird than your “shrine”.
“What’s got you all giggly?” His voice nearly made you jump out of your skin.
“Toshi!” You shouted, heart still pounding rapidly, “We need to get you a fucking bell, jesus!” He had a bad habit of sneaking really everywhere, footsteps silent as he traversed your home. It was a side effect of his job, and you knew that but it didn’t scare you any less.
“That can be arranged.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you before opening the fridge as you rolled your eyes.
“Kinky bastard.” You huffed back to him, only earning a laugh in response. You weren’t wrong, the thought made you feel better about your proposition.
“You love it.” He added, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, nipping lightly at the shell of your ear. “I gotta shower, I’ll be right back to discuss this bell.” He teased, releasing you and disappearing as quietly as he appeared, probably on purpose this time.
Dinner came and went without you saying anything about it, mind distracted as you spoke about your days, you telling him nearly every thing about your mundane day while his stories were often cryptic and vague, a part of the job. You were now on the couch, your feet thrown on his lap as he rubbed your ankles gently, causing you to sigh in relief. His hands began to move slowly up your legs as the tv droned on, some old rerun of a show you could hardly pay attention to with his hands on you. He however, seemed to be locked on, completely unaware of how you both had shifted, his hands kneading into the skin of your thighs.
“Toshi?” You called softly, feeling your face heat in the way it always seemed to when he looked over to you. His face was almost innocent and if you knew him any less you would've missed the glint in his eyes as he cocked his head slightly at you, waiting for you to continue. “Come up here and kiss me.” You pouted slightly down at him, and he grinned back, leaning up and placing a chaste kiss on your lips before pulling away. “Stop being mean!” You whined at him, earning a light laugh.
“I could never be mean to you baby girl.” His words were light, but he had a much heavier tone, making you slide down on the couch slightly, his lips connecting again with yours, more forceful this time. His tongue traced over your lips lightly before he pulled back a bit, catching your bottom lip in his teeth before quickly releasing it. “What’s got you so fired up tonight? Have you been fantasizing about me?” His tone was teasing, but his eyes darkened as you gulped. It was now or never you supposed.
“I may have a little bit of a proposition for you.” Your tone was shakier than you wanted it to be as he trailed kisses across your jaw.
“Hmm, what might that be?” He was driving you insane, voice husky as he whispered into your ear.
“Your quirk!” You blurted out suddenly, hands coming up to cover your face, flaming.
“My quirk?” He had the audacity to seem confused, and as you peeked between your fingers you realized he actually did appear not to understand what you wanted.
“I want you to tell me what to do. I trust you, really! I love you and I just-” You rambled out, covering your face once again. Something about him would always make you flustered, much to your dismay.
“(y/n),” His voice cut you off, pulling your hands down, “Look me in the eyes.” You struggled, pouting a bit as you finally met his eyes. “I need to know you’re entirely serious about that. I won’t know if something is too far, if you want to stop, if-” it was your turn to cut him off then.
“I know Hitoshi, I’m serious, I want this.” Your face softened a bit. He was actually going to do this. He didn’t think you were weird, he was just worried about you, making your heart squeeze.
“Do you trust me, (y/n)?” He asked back, face serious.
“Of course.” It was the last thing you were able to say as a haze began to fill your mind.
“Dumb sluts don’t need to think for themselves do they?” He asked, leaning back to look down at you. You instantly felt yourself clench at his words. “Answer me properly.”
“Yes sir.” Your voice sounded so normal despite the way you were practically squealing inside.
“Good girl, now come kneel in front of me, hands on your lap.” You instantly moved, movements fluid as you landed on your knees before him, looking up from below your lashes as you watched his face. He seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were, a spark shooting directly to your core as you stared into his eyes, patiently awaiting your next order.
“Show me how much of a good girl you are and suck my dick.” He commanded, pulling his pants down with your help. Your hands shook as you gripped him, dragging your tongue over his slit, pleased with the groan that fell from his lips. Your lips opened, slowly taking him in before beginning to work, head bobbing as his hand gripped your hair, pulling it back in a makeshift ponytail.
Your body seemed to know exactly what he wanted, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you took him deep and hard. You could feel yourself growing wetter below him, clenching your thighs as you continued. It was almost too much, and you wanted to slide your hand below your sweats, but couldn’t, the thought only making the problem worse. You moaned around him, drool and pre-cum beginning to leak past your lips as he pulled your hair, increasing your speed.
“You’re doing so well.” He grunted down at you, head falling back in a moan as you looked up at him. The rush to your head was only escalated by the haze that filled your brain and you could feel the small hold you had slipping. “I’m going to cum down your throat, and you’re going to swallow every drop, yeah?” You could only moan at his words, the vibrations making him shiver.
“Fuck, (y/n).” His voice was rough as he groaned, the telltale sign of a salty heat filling your mouth as he continued to bob your head. His hand began to go slack, and you felt the haze fading away as he released you in more ways than one. “Are you okay, baby girl?” He asked, breathily.
“I was so nervous to ask you to do that!” You gushed up at him, causing him to smile down at you.
“All you have to do is ask.” Was all he said as he pulled you up into his arms, mouth finding its spot in your neck again.
