I wanna hear you say it, darlin'. (NSFW) (they/them)
Ao3 link!- I wanna hear you say it, darlin'.
Looking for he/him?
MINORS DO NOT REBLOG OR COMMENT PLEASE. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.
Summary:
You'd known what he wanted then, you just couldn’t do it. The same way you know what he wants now, the same thing as then: for you to ask him. And Ronin's a patient man, one who takes some kind of sadistic glee in watching you squirm; he's not going to give it to you unless you ask him to. You know this. So you're going to. Ask him, that is. Today. Right now. Any second now.
OR
You finally get around to telling your boyfriend that you're a virgin and would like to have sex with him, and then you have sex.
Pronouns & genital terms used!:
Ronin- he/him, cock, cunt, entrance
Reader - they/them, clit, pussy, cunt, entrance
TW: Knife ! & threatening behaviour, for like a split second, mentions of what Ronin does as a serial killer, mentions of where he grew up and religious trauma, vague references to the type of people ronin usually kills (all in the same paragraph except the knife thats near the start)
(Tysm for the request again anon, was rly fun!! Hope u like it <3)
‘Hey, Ronin?’
‘What's it, baby?’
‘I- um -’ You're unsure of how to even start . How do you bring something like this up? You bite your lip in worry, tuck your head against Ronin's chest and rub your face over his shirt in hopes it will calm you down like it normally does. Your heart is racing ; this should be easy , should be simple , to talk to your boyfriend about this. Yet for some reason it makes your mouth dry and your palms sweat to even think about it.
You've been dating Ronin for a while now, your friendship having bubbled into something more over a steady simmer during all those months of flirting in the Slaughterhouse. Well, less flirting and more Ronin teasing you while you got steadily redder on camera until you panicked and ended the call. Does that count as flirting? You think it should , it worked , right?
You think that Ronin finds you endearing . Cute. Adorable. Which had worked in your favour before, when you were too shy to kiss him that day in Purgatory.
When he had asked that fatal question: ‘or are you kissing me?’ He'd watched the way your eyes had gone wide, a heavy flush settling over your face as your gaze darted helplessly between his eyes and his mouth. A sly smirk had settled onto Ronin’s face, and the hand not holding the knife had brushed across your cheek. He'd stepped in close, close enough your breathing had stopped for a second, and he'd said, ‘what’s wrong, baby? Do you want to but you can't?? Is my dear darlin’ writer too shy?’
You'd shaken your head frantically, too caught up in your embarrassment over a kiss to realise what he was getting at. Ronin had drawled, ‘ no? ’, leaned in close enough for his lips to brush your ear as he murmured, ‘Does that mean you're killing me then?’ He’d sounded ecstatic, almost sensual , like that reality was equally as tantalising as you kissing him.
You'd squeaked , hands coming up to grip the front of Ronin’s leather jacket while your head swam at how close he was to you; you could smell him, a mixture of motor oil, something metallic, and …maybe citrus?
You were hyper aware of exactly how much of Ronin was in your space; his tall form bracketing yours, shoulders boxing you in against the wall, his hair tickling your cheek, his breath puffing over your face, the sharp edges of his grin brushing your ear at the feeling of you swaying into him.
‘Well, which is it, baby? Are you kissing me or killing me? Come on, we don’t have all day. You gotta pick one.’ His voice was amused, breathless with an edge of venom in the tone. It was clear by his words he was teasing you; like he didn't care which one you picked as long as you kept entertaining him, but the undercurrent to his tone sounded like his patience was running thin, like if you didn’t pick one soon, he would choose for you.
‘I-Ronin.’ You'd choked out, face burning at how intense you were finding this, at how intense you were making this. It was just a simple kiss and yet you couldn't bring yourself to tilt your head up and connect his lips to your own. You'd walked all the way out here, to a known serial killer's favourite killing spot, and yet you were too shy to kiss him. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so real.
‘I’m The Butcher out here, darlin’, don't'cha know?’ You'd shivered, the feeling tingling down your spine as you whined slightly, swaying into him, your eyes dipping shut against your will. Ronin had let out a happy hum, dragged his nose across your cheek and murmured, ‘Should I have mercy on my poor little bunny? Put them out of their misery?’ You'd gasped, eyes snapping open, frozen in place, as the point of the knife Ronin was holding had pressed ever so gently into your other cheek. You hadn’t even heard him move.
You could do nothing but stare at it in fear, eyes wide, until Ronin had drawled out, ‘Nah. Wouldn't do that to you, baby. You're too sweet to let bleed out in Purgatory. We’re saving the blood letting for later.’ He’d laughed, short, sharp, and deranged in your ear before pressing a wet, snacking kiss to the side of your face. ‘Need to taste you myself before I let that happen.’
Ronin was still snickering quietly to himself as he pulled back to look at you. Your hands were shaking where they were gripped tight, pressing sweaty against his jacket, the cold metal zipper biting heat down into your palm. He'd put the knife away, tucked it somewhere safe and far from you as your heart beat out your chest. Ronin had then gripped you meanly by your soft cheeks, forcing your lips to pucker almost comically as he brushed his own over yours in a twisted mimicry of a kiss. Teasing you with how almost it was, and how sincerely it wasn't .
Yet the wet slide of his mouth against yours still traced an electric line across your lips, the feeling shooting through you, tingling with desire and stirring a twitching interest in your pants. You'd made a sound like a wounded animal, desperate , attempted to pull Ronin closer by your grip on his jacket but he instead leaned back, used his height against you, and let go of your face entirely.
He’d murmured, ‘Good bunnys ask for what they want, darlin’.’ Curled a lock of your hair around his finger and tugged gently. He'd then leaned back down into your space, almost kissing you but not quite, pulling back every time you leaned up into him, keeping a hair's breadth between your mouths until you'd had enough and whined out, ‘Roninnnnnnn,’ breathless and embarrassed. You’d quickly followed it up with, ‘Ronin, kiss me, please,’ heart thundering in your chest.
Ronin had chuckled . Gripped you by the jaw softly, said, ‘All you had to do was ask , sweetheart’, before kissing you softly, sweetly , chastely. You’d had to chase him when he pulled back, desperate and wanting enough to drag his lips back to your own until Ronin gave in and kissed you properly, all sharp edges and hunger.
And therein was where the problem started. At first, you'd been worried that maybe Ronin would want to move too fast ; you didn’t have any experience with physical intimacy, and he’d kissed you with such fervour in purgatory that in the days afterwards you’d panicked . Got in your own head about it and started to worry you wouldn't be able to keep up, that soon he'd want more from you than you could give, that maybe he’d grow bored of you if you didn’t keep his attention with sex.
You’d had relationships start and end in the blink of an eye because of that very issue before, and you couldn’t help but worry that this would be the same , even if every sign pointed to it not being like that. There were all these thoughts in your head, getting tangled and tripping each other up; ideas that he’d get frustrated , that he’d be upset or turned off when he learned of your… naivete, that he’d leave you or worse push you, and then you’d have to leave him . But that wasn't the case, Ronin was, and is , ever the gentleman, and the more time you spend with him the safer you feel , murderous proclivities or not.
When you'd pulled back from Ronin early on in the relationship, put his wandering hands back into more safe places while you were making out, he'd kept them there. He'd still kissed you in the same brutal, breathless way he did before, making you feel like he was pulling the breath from your very lungs into his own, but he never crossed the non-verbal line you'd set.
You hadn't talked to him about it yet, you weren’t sure you could, because even though he was your boyfriend the thought made you shudder with a strange mixture of anticipation and anxiety . There were too many ‘what if’s, it felt too big a topic to broach on your own and you were scared . You knew you should talk about it, knew you had to talk about it at some point, that Ronin would be nothing but understanding. But every time the thought to bring it up had crossed your mind you couldn’t get the words to cross your lips, couldn’t get over how shy the topic made you feel.
You'd expected-no, you’d hoped that Ronin would try again as the relationship progressed, considering you were too shy to even bring the topic of sex up, but you both never went past making out. Not even after you’d finally gotten frustrated enough that you'd tried putting his hands on you, tried to slide them from your lower back to your butt subtly but Ronin had just leaned back from marking up your neck and said, ‘What is it, baby? What do you want? You got an itch that you need help scratching?’ In that teasing drawl of his, and scraped his fingernails slowly but firmly over the back of your thigh, bypassing your ass completely.
You didn't know how to handle that ; you’d prepared for him grabbing your ass or something similar and this was the complete opposite. It wasn’t what you had expected him to do, leaving you feeling wildly unprepared so your brain went haywire trying to decide how to react and then it just kind of… shut off.
Your brain had frozen and you hadn’t known what to do, what to say, how to say it. So you’d just squeaked and wrapped your arms around Ronin’s head, squished his face harshly against your collarbone so he couldn't look up and see how red you'd turned as you'd spluttered out something to the affirmative, scratched your own ass, and then scrambled off him and ran away to hide in the toilet out of embarrassment. You could hear Ronin positively screeching with laughter as you scurried out of the room and away from him.
When you came back in five minutes later Ronin was sat sprawled out on the couch, a movie you liked already queued up and ready to go on the television as he patted his thigh, inviting you to come back and melt into him with a smug smile tugging at the edges of his lips like he knew.
Which, retroactively, it’s clear he did know what you wanted, he was just playing with you; Ronin wanted you to admit it. Admit how crazy he drove you, how much you wanted him. He was teasing you, that much was obvious, especially considering the movie he'd had queued up wasn't one that suited his usual gore-happy festivities, more in line with ‘that childish shit’ that he always groaned and complained about when you ‘forced’ him to sit through it.
You've tried again a few times since then; tried putting Ronin’s hands on your ass when making out and holding them there for a second, but they always wandered back to safer locations after a second, sliding on up to your back, your shoulders, your tummy, and your neck after giving your ass what felt like a precursory squeeze, like nothing more than an acknowledgement that it was there; then you tried putting your leg up over Ronin’s hip after his kisses had made your skin thrum with electricity and turned your clit hard and aching, throbbing in time with your pussy but Ronin’s hips never seemed to connect with yours- no matter how much you squirmed and tried to grind against him without overtly just humping him; you’d tried whining, ‘Roninnnn. Ronin, please…’ against his lips, eyes tearing up with how much you wanted him and voice a breathless whine but Ronin had just groaned. Turned his head away from yours with his eyes screwed shut like the movement was hurting him, lips disconnected from yours with a shiny string of spit strung between them, his fingers tracing up and down your sides as he'd said, fervently, mockingly, ‘What, baby? What do you want? Come on and tell me. Tell the devil what you want, darlin’.’ His voice had turned serious, slipping into an airy murmur of ‘won’t hold it against you, bunny, promise,’ pressed softly to your temple.
You'd have been offended if you hadn't seen how much you were affecting him too. If you hadn't felt Ronin’s hips grind into yours before he halted the movement, if he hadn't tucked his head down against your neck to suck a bruise as you’d gasped and stuttered, if he hadn’t licked a stripe up your throat, dipping up to nip at your lips gently before saying, ‘Tell me, darlin’, c’mon, you can do it. I believe in you.~’
You'd stared into Ronin’s eyes, dark with want and need , his forehead pressed to yours as you’d licked your lips, mouth opening and closing as you made several aborted attempts to try and tell him while you quivered under the weight of his gaze and your voice had died in your throat. Eventually, Ronin’s gaze had softened, and he'd pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, and then your forehead, before he'd tucked you safely into his chest and murmured, ‘next time then, yeah?’
You'd barely had time to process your disappointment before he'd wrapped his arms around you and rolled you both over so that you were facing the television, and then you'd had to sit through the second half of a slasher movie so turned on you couldn’t think , trying not to squirm and cry in his arms at being denied again.
You'd known what he wanted then, you just couldn’t do it. The same way you know what he wants now, the same thing as then: for you to ask him. And Ronin's a patient man, one who takes some kind of sadistic glee in watching you squirm ; he's not going to give it to you unless you ask him to. You know this . So you're going to. Ask him, that is. Today. Right now. Any second now .
You’ve already interrupted his ongoing rambling monologue about some ‘scum sucking bottom feeder’ he’s been stalking, now you just need to tell him. Any second now. While Ronin's still semi-distracted by his love of the hunt you're going to say what you want loud and clear, before he gets the chance to upset your determination with his touch, before you have a chance to get shy you're gonna tell him.
You open your mouth; no words come out. You try again and fail to produce any sound a second time. Third time’s the charm. Come on. You can do this. ‘Ro-ronin.’ You stutter out.
Ronin hums, his hand tracing little circles on your upper back as he says, ‘Yeah, baby? What’s up?’ His voice is light, airy . You’re thinking that you’ve gotten off easy with him being so distracted when Ronin continues, ‘What’s so important that you just had to interrupt me, even though I know you’ve not been listening for the past half hour. What’s eating at that pretty little head of yours?’
You wriggle slightly where you’re laid on top of him, squirming from your discomfort. It’s now or never. Your face is aflame, you’re steadfastly looking anywhere that isn’t Ronin. You take a deep breath before, ‘Ronin-I’m-a-virgin-but-I-think-it-would-be-really-cool-if-you-could-sex-me-up-sometime-soon-maybe-now-please-and-thank-you,’, comes out in one big rush. You immediately bury your face in the soft cotton of his shirt after and pray he won’t make you say it again. There's silence for a beat, and you cringe . Your shoulders are retreating up towards your ears when you feel Ronin’s chest stutter then start to heave before he releases a manic cackle from above you.
‘What was that, darlin’? You want me to ‘sex you up?’ Ronin doesn't bother to stifle the snicker that breaks free as he says the words. Oh God, you did say that, didn’t you? This has not gone well; you practiced in your head so much and yet you still asked him to ‘sex you up’. Jesus. …You kind of want the ground to split open and swallow you whole.
Ronin’s still giggling when he tries to pull your face away from his chest to look at you, but you shake your head frantically and tuck it incrementally lower, covering your face with your hands. You’re embarrassed , and maybe a little ashamed . ‘ Don’t be getting shy on me now, darlin’ . You finally told me what you want . Don’t you want me to give it to you? ’ One of his hands slides under your jaw and tips your head up to look at him, the other gently pulls your hands away from your face.
There’s an undisguised glee on Ronin’s face when you make eye contact with him but his expression falters at the look on your face. ‘ Baby? ’ Ronin slides his hand up to cup the side of your face and brushes a thumb along the tears gathering in your lower lashes. ‘Oh.’ His eyebrows knit together. ‘We need to talk , huh?’ You sniffle, try to blink back your tears as you nod at him shortly, refusing to make eye contact with him. You wipe your eyes and laugh wetly at how silly you feel, crying over something like this.
Ronin shifts on the couch, shuffles himself up into a sitting position and uses the arm locked around your waist to bring you with him. Sitting up like this you can see the concern laced into his eyebrows. You raise your hand to try and smooth them out but Ronin catches it and presses a kiss to your knuckles instead.
‘Why didn’t you just talk to me?’ It’s short and succinct. Ronin does not like talking about his problems, preferring to talk around them or to hide his truths in poetry but when it comes to you , he’s always to the point. He’s always willing to try . You love him for that- you love him for a myriad of reasons but you especially love that he’s willing to try for you. To sit with emotions that he hasn’t so much as looked at in years, even if it makes him uncomfortable.
It’s with that thought in mind that you rearrange so that you’re sat on Ronin, facing him as you twiddle your thumbs together and say, ‘I wanted to . I kept trying , but the words wouldn’t come out and I didn’t know what to say, or how to say it so I tried to show you but that didn’t work and… I got in my head about it. I was worried you wouldn’t want me-
‘ That’s stupid.’ Ronin cuts in.
‘Ronin .’ You say, upset.
‘I’m always going to want you. I- love you. Innocent little lamb or not.’
‘Oh.’ You say, the feeling catching in your throat and sitting there. You feel like you’re going to cry for real this time. Ronin leans in and presses a kiss against your cheekbone, just under your eye. You chase after him and catch his lips in a soft kiss, leave your forehead pressed to his when you pull back, eyes closed. ‘I- I just, I’m shy and it- I have trouble- I can’t talk about these things like you can, it’s not easy for me and then you kept rejecting me-’
‘Who said I was rejecting you?’ Now Ronin sounds hurt. You open your eyes and there’s this look of disbelief on his face, a subtle upset sitting in the crease of his brows, his wide eyes, and his open mouth. He looks… heartbroken by the idea , like hurting you was the last thing he wanted and he didn’t even know he was doing it; because you didn’t tell him. A tear escapes confinement and slides down your cheek.
‘Ronin, baby, I-’ You cup his face, look into his eyes and try to gather your courage before burying yourself in his neck to hide as you say, ‘I wanted you to touch me and I kept trying but you just ignored it and I thought it was fine but it’s not ; I want you to want me.’ Your voice breaks as you choke out the last couple words.
You feel Ronin’s shoulders judder as he takes in a shuddering breath. He presses a hand against the back of your head and holds you close to him, ‘I do want you. Want you so much I can barely breathe for it, darlin’. …I just wanted to hear you say it, didn’t mean to push you so far you broke .’ You hear him inhale again, the breath irregular and prolonged compared to the normal slow rise and fall of his chest; you realise with a start that Ronin’s mimicking the breathing techniques you always do when the world gets too much and you can’t feel anything except for it closing in on you. You wonder if this feels like that for him…
‘Listen, darlin’, where I came from, that godforsaken shithole of a town- where I- escaped, there were-’ Ronin stops for a second, and you think he’s choking up before he voice returns with a vengeance and a venom you’ve never heard before, ‘these men, shit stained, self-proclaimed saints, prostrating God with one hand, doing reprehensible shit with the other behind closed doors. Scumbags who took too much, who got anything they wanted, everyone else’s wishes be damned. I can’t-’ Ronin cuts himself off, looks away with tension in his jaw and a furrow in his brow. ‘I won’t be like them, ever. No matter what.’ He spits with venom. ‘That’s how I became The Butcher in th’ first place.’ Ronin starts tracing slow circles on one of your thighs, when he speaks again his voice is clearer, lighter. ‘Someone needed t’ put them in their place. Make ‘em understand that heaven isn’t open to them, bring a little slice of hell into their lives- their deaths more like.’ He barks out a laugh, the sound thick with emotion and edged with delight. ‘…Show ‘em what it’s like to be on the other end of the stick.
‘So I- I get that you’re shy, darlin’. ‘M not saying you hav’ta spell everythin’ out f’me, I jus’ need you to give me somethin’.’ Ronin looks down at you, tilts your head up to look at him and you wonder if there’s as much emotion on your face as there is on his; you feel peeled open, raw. ‘Some kinda confirmation, a yes, some kind of proof that you want this as much as I do.’
‘Yeah, okay… That makes sense. I’m sorry. I- didn’t mean to bring up bad memories for you. I should have tried talking to you about it, not just… y’know . It’s just- this is hard for me.’
‘Nah, darlin’. I could’ve brought this up at anytime, I w’s just having too much fun playing with you to realise we needed to talk about it. ‘S much as my fault as it‘s yours.’ Ronin says.
You nod softly, ‘We’ve kind of been putting each other through it, huh? It’s almost funny .’ You cut yourself off with a wet giggle, sniffle and wipe your nose on the back of your hand. ‘I didn’t- didn’t realise it was affecting me this much, but I- um, I can try be more um, forward about what I’m wanting. For you.’ You fiddle with the fabric of his shirt, twist it in your hands.
‘That’s all I’m askin’ for, darlin’, a little communication.’ One of Ronin’s hands snakes over yours and grips your fingers, gentle, ‘You’re gonna ruin my shirt, baby.’ Your hands pause in their fidgeting until Ronin pulls one of them into his own, presses the pads of his fingers against yours and slides them to and fro, pushing and pulling your fingers together and apart with his own.
You’re silent for a moment, content to watch Ronin play with your hand and sit here and feel close to him before you open your mouth to speak, ‘So you’re okay that I'm a- that I haven’t -? Me tell-telling you hasn’t um- turned you off, has it? ’ The last part comes out in a squeak , embarrassed even now to hear yourself say it , even with Ronin already knowing , waiting so patiently while you gathered your nerves, thumb rubbing soothing little motions at the base of your neck .
‘Darlin’, we’ve been dating for four months now. I figured it out week two when I tried to kiss you with a little tongue and you choked. ’ You feel Ronin’s chest shake where your head is pressed against it as he stifles a laugh at the memory. You flush beet-red as you recall the memory, it having been one you stuffed far down in the deepest, darkest crevasses of your mind and tried with all your might to pretend didn’t exist.
It was the first time you’d felt comfortable getting hot and heavy with Ronin since your meet up in Purgatory. He hadn’t even put his tongue in your mouth really, just licked over your lower lip and brushed his tongue against your own, testing. And when you felt the sweet, warm press of it you had panicked , choked on your own spit, hacked a cough against his face and then had to go get a glass of water to be able to breathe again.
Ronin had nearly died laughing at the time,. He’d then pulled you close and called you his, ‘poor, sweet, innocent baby.’ Said, ‘was that too much for you, sweetheart?’ …Oh. At the time you’d brushed it off as lighthearted teasing but he really did know. And he’d treated you exactly the same afterwards, to the point you hadn’t noticed anything had changed.
You cringe outwardly at the memory, face scrunching up as you whine, ‘Ronniiiinnnnnn.’
‘What?’ Ronin says, ‘It was cute. My sweet little saint getting all worked up over a little kiss. Can’t wait to see how you react when I kiss you in other, more fun places.’ Ronin’s grin is sharp as he nips at The edge of your jaw playfully.
You squirm in his lap, whine, ‘Roninnn,’ again and pretend to try push him away, but you don’t actually let him go anywhere with one arm hooked around the back of his neck. Ronin laughs at your antics, arms wrapped around your torso supporting you, he blows a raspberry just under your jaw, causing you to shriek and actively try to actually push him away from you by his shoulders but now he’s the one locked onto you and he won’t budge, he’s just too strong. ‘’Roninnnnn ewwwwwwwww, grosss!’ You screech and he chuckles .
Ronin kisses his way up to your ear and murmurs, ‘I’ll stop if you ask nicely , darlin’.’ He immediately goes back to blowing kisses wetly against your neck.
You squeal, wriggle desperately in his grasp and gasp out, ‘Ronin, please ! Stoppppp, come onnnnnn!’
Ronin cackles next to your ear, ‘Since you asked me so nicely, baby, I’ll stop.’ He leans back against the arm of the couch, grinning, ‘can’t believe you didn’t like my love kisses! and I made them just for you ‘n’ all, darlin’.’
‘Those were not ‘love kisses’ and you know it . There was no love in them! Those were evil kisses.’
‘Oh yeah? Good thing I’m th’ devil then.’ Ronin looks so cocky when he says it, you’d think he set it up if you didn’t already know how quick witted your boyfriend is. ‘But… what makes you so sure, baby? Why don’t you come over here and show me what a real ‘love kiss’ is like, huh? Since you’re such an expert ‘n’ all.‘ Ronin leans all the way back against the arm of the couch, arms stretched out behind his head, looking for everything like he’s king of the world. He’s king of your world at least. It’d piss you off if it didn’t turn you on so much. He’s playing with you again, and you walked right into his well laid trap. Your clit twitches in your pants at the mere idea of what Ronin’s implying, but you find yourself frozen under the weight of your own want.
There’s about a yard of empty space hanging in between your torsos from where you’re sat on his lap, and even though you want this you hesitate to cross the empty space between you both. Ronin’s smug grin fades slightly, gets replaced with the ghost of a concerned frown as he sits up a little. ‘You uh- you okay if I tease you about it, darlin’? The whole,’ he waves his hand around in the air, drawing imaginary circles, ‘virginity thing, right? ‘S like, you’re shy , it’s not like- not a wound or anything, darlin’? Not gonna hurt you if I poke , right?’
You shake your head no, Ronin taps you on your chin and says, ‘words , baby. Can’t read your mind no matter how much I want to.’
You press your lips together before saying, quietly, ‘You- you can tease me. I- I like it.’ The last part is whispered like the admission it is and Ronin’s usual shit eating grin starts to stretch back over his face. He leans up into your space, puts one hand under your ass and the other against your back to pull you fully on top of him while he lays back on the couch.
Ronin cackles a laugh in your ear as he chatters away saying, ‘I knew you liked it, haha! Knew you liked me, baby. Just had to get you to admit it. Always thought there was a dirty little sinner under all that innocent, saintly outlook. Hells, bet you’re fucking filthy, aren’t ya’, darlin’? Wonder what else I can get you to admit to. Next you’re gonna start saying that my crowbar turns you on and I’ll find you following me out to Purgatory to get a little sneak-peak at the devil in action.’ He keeps snickering between his words; Ronin’s practically purring with excitement at having you in his lap, secure in the knowledge that he can tease you as much as he wants and that you’ll like it, that like him.
It feels like half the blood in your body rushes to your face as you flush beet red, the abruptness of it combined with Ronin saying these things about you makes you dizzy and causes you to sway towards Ronin slightly, the other half rushes straight to your clit like you’ve been electrified and it almost hurts the arousal that shoots through you. Your first instinct is to hide from Ronin when your clit twitches to life between your legs but sat on his lap like this there’s nowhere to hide. You’re exposed , and the thought raises goosebumps along your arms and legs that Ronin’s watching you , seeing and feeling every aroused twitch and wiggle of your hips no matter how you try to control them.
Ronin watches you go red, sees you curl around your arousal like you’re trying to protect it and then straighten up like you’re pretending it isn’t happening, and he barks out a laugh, ‘Awh, my sweet little saint, precious little lamb; I’m gonna corrupt your sweet little aorta until it’s all bloody and bleeding and perfect, just for me, sweetheart.‘ Ronin’s nibbling at you as he says all this, nipping at your ear gently, scraping his teeth over your pulse point, stopping to kiss your lips, licking into your mouth and then biting when you try kiss him back, it’s overwhelming.
You may be sat on Ronin but you can feel him everywhere around you and you don’t know how to handle it. You whine high in the back of your throat, break the noise off into a whimper when you feel Ronin press his sharp grin against the crook of your neck, scrape his teeth there and say, ‘You like that, baby?’ You nod rapidly and Ronin laughs breathily against your neck in response. You can’t stifle the turned on wiggle that happens where you’re seated over his hips but you think he doesn’t notice.
You’ve got your hands braced on his shoulders when Ronin finally lets up and lets you catch your breath. You staring down at him, chest rising and falling sporadically when Ronin says, ‘You’re this worked up over a little kissing? Awh, baby. You’re out of your fucking depth; I’m going to devour you.‘
You whimper , the words shooting right to your clit as Ronin’s grin gets impossibly sharper. Ronin’s a man of his word , and you shudder as all the possibilities of what he could mean run through your mind. How do you even reply to that? You can’t , all you can do is look at him, mouth opening and closing as you desperately try to think of what to say and come up with nothing.
You bite your lip, try stifle the rocking motion that’s rolling through your hips with a vengeance, not wanting to show how worked up you’ve gotten over ‘a little kissing’. Ronin glances down between your bodies pointedly, raises an eyebrow and says, ‘I can feel that, baby. Dont’cha know?’, while grinning. The expression softens as he says, ‘You don’t need to hide from me, darlin’. I want to see you, all of you.’ Ronin puts his hands on your hips and encourages them to roll down against his own. He then leans up and kisses you, softly, sweetly, pulls back like it’s the last thing he wants to do and goes, ‘Hey. Hey. Maul me.’ before snapping his teeth at the air between you. You jump, startled before giggling at him.
‘You’re ridiculous.’ You say, before leaning down and brushing your nose against his.
‘Yeah, but you love me, so who’s really the ridiculous one here?’ Ronin kisses you on the cheek, and you can feel the sharp edges of his grin brush against your skin as he whispers, ‘well? Sweetheart, what are you going to do?’
Ronin leans back, looks at you with a challenge in his eyes that he already knows you’re going to fail. You lean down and kiss him, press your lips to his and lick into his mouth with a vengeance, feel his tongue brush your own and shudder. Your hands slide down from his shoulders to his chest. Ronin lets you take the lead in kissing him, leaves his hands pressed gently on your hips as you roll them down against his own.
The shiny vinyl of his jeans is bunched up around the zipper and the pressure feels good where your cunt lips part around it. The fabric of your underwear is wedged up around your clit causing a delicious friction, it rubs and pulls at it as you rock over him. The sensation burns in a way you're both familiar with and totally foreign to; the pleasure tinglingly reminiscent of the times you’ve spent rubbing your clit while thinking of your boyfriend in private, but turned up in a manner that's overwhelming by the simple weight of Ronin’s hands on your hips, the dark heady gaze of his eyes on you as you rock against him.
It’s an unbearable tease, there’s this heat that’s sparking along your clit every time your hips roll down against him, and it feels good , too good, and so you can’t quite control the movement. Everytime your hips roll down they twitch and stutter when they connect with his and you just can’t quite get the rhythm right, it’s frustrating but at least you feel in control of the movement, not panicked or unsure for once .
You’re just about feeling capable when Ronin’s hands slide up to cover your own and readjust them where they’re braced on his chest so that you’re cupping his pecs, and then he squeezes . You feel the soft-firm flesh of his chest shift under the pressure of your hands, feel the pebble of his nipples through the thin cotton of his shirt and you whimper . Try pull your hands away in a panic, then abort that movement and try press them closer because you want this, want him; you don’t want to keep running away .
Ronin’s hands stay pressed firmly over your own the entire time, so he feels the back and forth twitching pull of your arms, feels when your mouth slips away from his, your focus elsewhere and he laughs , breath puffing over your face before he’s seeking out your lips to kiss you hard and suddenly the tables are turned. You may be on top of Ronin but his mouth is a hot and heavy seeking pressure against yours. He brushes his tongue over your lower lip, coaxing your tongue out to play with his. His hands are shifting over yours, directing them, encouraging you to squeeze, to brush your palms and then fingers over his nipples with purpose and suddenly you are out of your depth.
You whine, break away from his lips, needing a moment to catch your breath. Ronin’s laid back, panting and grinning below you. His hands slip up your arms, leaving a fiery trail of goosebumps as they skate over your shoulders and then down your front to sit on your waist. ‘You want this , baby? You want me?’ Ronin brushes his hands down to your hips, uses his grip there to grind you over his crotch again, then he rolls his own hips up into the motion and you choke. Breath catching in your throat as your mind floods with images of him fucking up into you as you ride his cock. The thought, combined with the motion of his hips under yours is so erotic and so that you're suddenly caught in the reality that this is happening. You're going to have sex . With Ronin. Sex . With Ronin. Right now.
A wave of heat washes over you, settles hotly over your face, sits heavy on your neck, curls down your spine into a line of tension behind your clit and your hips roll harder into their desperate rocking motion over him. With Ronin steadying the rock of your hips against him the constant friction against your clit blooms into a hot pulse that concentrates in your clit but sweeps across your whole cunt.
‘I need an answer, sweetheart, a simple ‘yes’ will do... Although I'm not gonna stop you if you wanna say ‘please, Ronin, master and maestro of my heart, body, and soul, make me yours, put your thick cock in my greedy little cunt and make me see God’.’ Ronin's grinning, spewing absolute filth from his mouth now that he knows you want to hear it, viscerally enjoying watching you squirm above him as heat creeps along your spine and your clit twitches in interest at his words. The only evidence that he’s not just making fun of you is in the breathless tone to his words, the red flush settled high over his cheekbones, and the way his gaze keeps dipping between you both to where he’s got you rutting your clit against his crotch.
Your mouth opens and shuts repeatedly, words lost somewhere under the want that's crawling along underneath your skin and settling heavy in your stomach, pulsing behind your clit and making your cunt clench around nothing as you imagine clenching around Ronin . Imagine rubbing your pussy over his stomach and his hips and his cock. Imagine slotting your cunt against his cock in a wet sticky kiss and rutting against him, feeling every wet twitch and kiss of his cunt against yours until one of you cums and the other gets to feel the hot slick pulse of it against them. Even just thinking about it feels unnervingly good like this. You want to cum like this, with him, on him, any way that he’ll have you even.
Ronin looks at you, calculating, and then leans up to kiss you sweetly. Presses his lips to yours all gentle like and then kisses his way softly across your jaw and down your neck to lave his tongue there. You shudder at the sensation, whine and tilt your head back to give him space to work. You feel his grin against your neck as you shudder with want, feel him kiss you there again and then suck a wet kiss over the spot before he starts whispering, lips ghosting over your neck, ‘Come on, baby. Don’t you want me to spread some of my rot to you? Gonna look at the devil and ask for his sacrament? Want me to defile you, baby? Ruin you in the eyes of God? C’mon, baby, darlin’, sweetheart. All you've got to do is ask. I wanna hear you say it.’
Ronin leans back and looks at you, eyebrows raised, waiting. You swallow the nerves collecting in your throat. You want this so badly it’s overriding the red flush on your face, sidestepping the anxiety in your brain, and overpowering everything in your body that says that you can’t do this, because you can. You're going to. You desperately want to look away from Ronin’s gleeful gaze but you’re stuck, trapped, caught in Ronin’s orbit, and you can’t get out. You know he’ll just pull you right back in if you do anyway.
You lick your lips before you manage to stutter out, ‘Ronin, can-’ You stop.
‘Go on.’
‘Will you-’ You cut yourself off, face flushing red hot.
‘Keep going .’
‘I want-’ You breathe out, your hips rolling down against him of their own accord .
‘Nearly there .’
Somehow , you manage to whimper out, ‘ defile me, please, Ronin.’
‘ There we go. Feel better now?’
You nod shyly , look at Ronin then abruptly look away, you can’t hold his gaze . He’s grinning proudly, a heavy, lovesick look to him as he sits you both up slowly, then taps his hand against your knee and says, ‘up,’ to get you to climb off him before standing up himself. Ronin holds a hand out to you, you look between him and his hand in confusion before taking it. He levers you off of the couch and into his arms, wraps them around you before kissing you sweetly, ‘Can’t have me taking y’r innocence on the couch now , darlin’. ‘S hardly a place to be defiled .’ Ronin snickers to himself before dramatically sweeping an arm underneath your knees and tipping you back into a bridal carry.
You shout in a mixture of surprise and indignation, ‘Ronin!’, smack his arm in protest but he just laughs loudly as he carries you through to the bedroom.
‘What baby? If I’m gonna be taking your virtue I may as well do it properly ‘n’ all. I’m just paying my respects , playing the role of dutiful, doting husband ‘n’ carrying you ‘cross the threshold.’ Ronin’s laughing the entire time he says it, but you can’t help but wonder if there’s a thread of truth to what he’s saying. That is until he rouses you from your suspicions by kicking the bedroom door open with a ‘bang’, and grinning at your proudly before walking through.
‘Who knew that Ronin Beaufort, the devil’s butcher, was such a romantic, huh?’ You kiss the side of his face, nuzzle into his neck and feel his throat vibrate as he laughs.
‘Heh, only the best for my baby .’ It’s sarcastic, but you know he means it as he lays you gently down on the bed and crawls over you with a lovesick grin. You put your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss him. Ronin’s smiling the whole time and he has to press his grin to the side of your face a couple times to get it under control before he can kiss you properly. When he pulls back, he pulls back slowly , runs a hand down the side of your tummy, traces his fingers over your lower stomach in teasing little circles.
‘R’ninnnnnn, don’t tease me.’ You say.
Ronin’s grin gets impossibly sharper, looking for everything like he wants to devour you, before his eyes soften and he rubs his thumb gently over your cheek. ‘I’m going to love you, darlin’.’ He says it with intent, voice getting airy over the words ‘love you’ and you’re reminded once again that no matter how he denies it, your boyfriend is a desperate, hopeless romantic, and you wouldn’t have him any other way. You never had a single thing to be worried about. This is Ronin, and he loves you.
Ronin leans in and kisses you gently, he scrapes his teeth over your bottom lip as he pulls back. ‘Do you know what you want , baby? Or do you want me to try and find out ?’ His voice dips deeper as he says the second sentence, as slides his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear and pings it against your tummy.
You wriggle slightly underneath him, bite your lips and say, ‘I want you , ‘Nin.’
Ronin chuckles, ‘Yeah, I know that , baby, but where do you want me? Here?’ He presses his lips to your neck, ‘or, here?’, then to your collarbone, ‘maybe, here?’, Ronin rucks your shirt up around your tummy and leaves it sitting just under your chest, brushes his lips over the bottom of your ribcage, staring at you all the while, ‘down here?’ He brushes his lips above the line of your underwear, ‘lower?’ Ronin asks cheekily, rubs his nose just under your belly button while waiting for a response.
‘’Nin…’ You say, bottom lip worried between your teeth, ‘Please ?’ You ask succinctly, and lift your hips towards him to make your point. Ronin grins at you, wolfish, before tucking his fingers in the edge of your underwear and sliding them down your hips. Your face burns a cherry red as you lift your hips to help him and your cunt is exposed to his gaze for the first time ever.
You fidget, try to close your legs as subtly as you can but Ronin grabs you by the ankles and gently pulls your legs apart, slides himself between your knees until he’s propped up on his elbows in front of your pussy. You’re waiting for him to touch you, clit twitching and pussy drooling under the weight of his gaze, but when Ronin does nothing but look you start to squirm in place.
‘Ronin? Baby?’ You ask, voice meek and nervous. Ronin’s head snaps up to look at you and this is maybe the first time you’ve really seen him since this whole thing started. His pupils are blown , with this dazed glaze like sure he’s looking at you but his focus is elsewhere, preoccupied. Namely on your cunt, given the way his gaze keeps flitting between looking at you and looking at it, like he can’t keep away. His mouth is a bitten red, shiny with spit from where he’s been kissing you and his gaze is half lidded, boring into you and heavy with want when it manages to stay on your face for more than a second.
The whole thing is maybe one of the most erotic things you’ve even seen in your life and you can’t stop yourself from squirming where you’re laid, undulating out from the spine and rocking your hips towards Ronin’s face as you whine, desperate and high pitched in the back of your throat before you manage to pant out, ‘’Niiiinnn, touch me? Please? Pretty please?’
Ronin doesn’t answer you, just groans, head dipping down, seemingly in pain , before he looks up to catch your eye and leans down so that his lips are just barely brushing over your clit, teasing you, again. You’ve had enough of his teasing, can’t withstand the ghosting sparks of pleasure where his lips brush, you can’t stop yourself; you keen , one of your hands lands on the back of Ronin’s head as you rock your hips up to connect with his waiting mouth.
You feel Ronin’s moan vibrate through you where his spit shiny lips part against your cunt and his tongue presses hot and insistent over your clit. You can’t stop the rock of your hips against his face, grinding your clit into his tongue. If this felt any less good maybe you’d have some semblance of self-control but his mouth is hot, wet, and slippery, burning fire against your clit and it’s all you can do to ride the feeling out against the heat of it. Gasp and cry as he licks around and then over your clit, presses wet sucking kisses against it as you gasp and cry out at the feeling. You can’t think for how good this feels, you’re near consumed with your want for more. More of Ronin, more of his mouth, more of his love. You’re damn near insatiable.
Ronin pulls back for a second, opens his mouth to ask you something but you think you might cry at the loss of sensation as the cold air comes into contact with your wet clit and electricity zaps through it, stinging . You gasp, ‘ no! -’ before you can think to stop it, make a sound like you’re bereaved , scratch your fingernails over the back of Ronin’s head and lift your head up to make watery eye contact with him.
Ronin’s grinning ferally , the skin around his mouth is rubbed red and there’s a shiny wetness from your cunt covering his chin. ‘Awh, darlin’ , somebody’s desperate.’ Ronin cackles, high pitched in the back of his throat but he must be feeling kinder than usual, or you must look as desperate as he says because he leans back down and places a loud smacking kiss on your clit before cackling a laugh again, and then he presses his wet lips over your clit and sucks it into his mouth while looking you in the eyes.
Your head hits the pillow with a thump, holding his gaze proving too much as you start to whimper and break into high pitched moans. You rut your cunt against his face as his tongue laves wet and rough over your pussy, between your folds, and wraps wetly over your clit. You can’t help the moans that escape you as Ronin kisses wetly at your cunt, seals his mouth over your clit and rubs his tongue against the bottom of it as he pulls back with a wet suckling motion. You can feel his head bobbing back and forth minutely between your legs, ‘Ronin, ah- fuck, Ronin I can’t- ’ You break off into a long moan, press your clit harder against his mouth, feel it twitch aggressively against his tongue before you start to come on his face.
Your orgasm hits you like a thundering truck; your vision blurs around the edges, your eyes squeeze shut and a hoarse moan is ripped from your throat as the pleasure crests and washes over you. It twitches through your thighs and convulses in your shoulders, rocks through your hips in a fizzing rush that funnels to your clit as it pulses against Ronin’s tongue. Your head slams back against the pillow, and your feet dig into the bed beneath you as your hips surge up off the bed. You can hear Ronin growling low in his throat, and the noise sends another shuddering wave of pleasure through you as one of his arms unwraps from around your thigh and slams over your hips, holding you down against the bedspread as you start to twitch from over sensitivity.
Ronin sucks at your clit one last time as you tremble against him before you go limp in his hold and he dips his head down to lick over your entrance. Your cunt pulses with aftershocks, gushes slick out against Ronin’s face, clenching around nothing as he licks down the crease of your pussy to catch some of it, tongue rubbing over your entrance before licking back up to your oversensitive clit. He licks back over it and you whimper in his hold, slot a clumsy, sweaty palm against his face to try make him back off, ‘’Nin! ‘Nin, stoppp, ‘s too much ,’ you slur out.
‘’s too much, Ronin, stop.~ Don’t eat my pussy, don’t suck my dick, don’t make me cum so hard I cry. ‘S so much. I can’t take it, it’s too good-.’ Ronin’s teasing croon breaks off into a loud cackle.
He crawls up over you so you’re face to face as you grumble out that you, ‘didn’t cry ’.
At the sight of Ronin’s grinning face you can’t help but smile dazedly back at him from where you’re laid back against the pillows, even as close your eyes, trying to feign annoyance at his teasing you can’t help but beam and giggle your way through it. ‘Awh, baby, look ,’ Ronin lifts a hand and wipes his thumb against your face, ‘you dribbled. ’ He snickers and leans forward to ask you, ‘That good, huh?’
You crack open an eye and try frown at him, grumble out, ‘’Nin , you’re ruining my afterglow,’ but the effect is ruined by the giggles that keep escaping you. Ronin cackles at this. Flops himself down beside you and snuggles in at your neck, wrapping an arm over you. You can’t help but burrow closer in his hold, snuggle into him and tuck yourself up under his chin as you laugh; you’re maybe a little giddy off the endorphin rush.
‘So sorry, darlin’. How rude of me. Not like I was th’ one who put you in it in the first place or nothin.’ You can feel Ronin’s voice rumbling through his chest as he talks. ‘Nah, I’m simply a bystander in the best sex of your life, you don’t even need me,’ He flops himself backwards dramatically, throws an arm over his eyes and sighs huffily before continuing, ‘you did this all by yourself, I wasn’t even necessary, nay, it would have been better if I wasn’t here at all-’
‘Oh my Gods , Ronin, shut the hell up!’ You’re laughing as you say it, which takes the bite out of the words but the message still stands, considering that Ronin can and will go on for hours when he gets like this. You slap him on the chest jokingly to emphasise your point.
‘You wound me!’ Ronin clasps his hands over his heart, lifting and then dropping himself onto the bed with a bounce, pretending to actually be hurt.
You giggle, roll onto your tummy and shake him, laughing as you wail, ‘Oh Gods , what have I done? Ronin? Ronin , baby, speak to me.’
Ronin’s laying flat on his back, eyes shut, tongue stuck out his mouth comically, seemingly unaffected by your vigorous shaking. …Which is why you’re not expecting it when he abruptly sits up and tackles you backwards onto the bed, pressing you down with his body and drawing his fingers down your sides to tickle you. You shriek and try wriggle away from him, laughing breathlessly as you try escape.
You shout, ‘Ronin! Stoppppp, ‘s not fair!’, legs post-sex limp and failing to kick out as you try make space between your body and his.
Ronin pulls you back down the bed towards him when you manage after he lets you get away. ‘What ? So you can kill me and I can’t even tickle you? ‘S not exactly fair , darlin’.
‘I didn’t actually kill you! Mercy! Mercy please ! You know, Ronin! You know!’ You break off into slightly hysterical giggles, broken up only by how hard you’re breathing.
Ronin cackles loudly above you before carefully dropping his full weight on top of you, then going limp . ‘Dunno. I feel pretty dead to me.’
All your breath rushes out of you with a wheezing huff as Ronin lands on top of you, your arms are pinned, folded between you and you can’t get the traction to push him off of you, ‘ Ninnnn.’ Ronin’s heavy , made of nothing but blood, guts, and sinew but he weighs like stone , effectively trapping you beneath him.
‘What?’ He laughs breathily. ‘I’m dead. Dead people don’t move, baby, don’t’cha know?’ He cackles loudly at his own joke before propping himself up on his elbows, ‘Or’ve you started having regrets about killing me yet, sweetheart? Regret hewing my blood to stone and my bone to rot-’ He breaks off into a mad cackle that you feel vibrate through your chest.
‘Oh please, you were rotten right through before I ever even met you, baby.’
‘Oh , talk dirty to me, darlin’, you’re gonna get me excited here.’ Ronin tucks his face against your collarbone and scrapes his teeth there. The feeling makes you shiver, whine and tilt your head back, bare your neck to his teeth so you can feel it as he moves up to press his grin against you. You brush your hand up the side of Ronin’s neck, press your palm to his jaw and leave it there. He tilts his head and presses a kiss into your palm, murmurs, ‘So, do you want to check my pulse, darlin’? Since ‘m dead an’ all.’
You hum, and start to slide your fingers down to his neck to where his pulse point should be but Ronin catches your hand, brings your fingers to his lips and nips them before he smiles at you cheekily, ‘I’ve got a better place for you to feel it, sweetheart.’ He kisses at your fingertips, ‘but first ‘ve got to get naked .’ He wiggles his eyebrows at you dramatically and you huff a laugh at him. Ronin climbs off of you so that he can shuck his trousers down his legs, kicking them off his feet and they go flying off the edge of the bed. You stifle a laugh at his antics; you love your boyfriend, he’s so fucking goofy .
Ronin’s boxers are red and black in a checkered pattern. You can see where they’re wet and sticking to him from where his cunt has been drooling this whole time . Your clit aches in sympathy and you jump slightly from the sharp sting of it. You’ve seen Ronin in just his shirt and underwear before, but it was always with much more chaste connotations, like going to bed, or after a shower, or just lounging around the house together. Looking at him now , armed with the knowledge you’re going to get to touch him sends tremors up and down your spine and makes you clench your thighs in anticipation.
Ronin catches you staring at him and you wonder if how much you want him is be showing on your face because he grins before crawling over to catch you in a searing kiss. Your pussy may be slowly fluttering back to life but you’re still feeling lax and floaty from your orgasm so it’s all you can manage to try and keep up as Ronin kisses you bruisingly . You’re left gasping for breath when he pulls back, ‘Baby. Baby, baby, baby .’ He murmurs against your lips, ‘want you to suck my cock, want to cum in your mouth, want to fuck you with my fingers, wanna see if I can make your pretty little pussy squirt ‘n’ make your legs shake again.’
You nod rapidly, your breath spilling over his lips in hot bursts, nose bumping his. Ronin’s close enough you can feel his smile as he says, ‘Yeah baby? You want that? Which part? C’mon and tell me why don’t you?’ Ronin’s grinning when he pulls back, testing, seeing if you’re any less shy now that you’ve cum on his face.
Your face floods with colour, and you open your mouth, stutter around a lungful of air, then close it again when absolutely nothing comes out. Your head dips down, breaking eye contact with him before you try again, determined, and you just about manage to squeak out, ‘b-both?’, before your voice dies in your throat. Ronin grins at you, catches your face with both his hands and gives you the most over exaggerated, loud, smacking kiss he can.
‘Where did my sweet, shy baby go, huh? My innocent little lamb? You’re all corrupted now, rotten right through. You want both? To fuck and to get fucked, Jesus would weep, baby. Somebody’s getting greedy.~‘ Ronin sounds ecstatic. ‘What dirty sinner corrupted your sweet little aorta, baby? One little taste of heaven ‘n’ you’re back knocking on the devil’s door to take you there again, huh? Well, I’m sorry to say, darlin’, this road only leads to hell. You can’t go back now. S’ too late. You’re mine.’ Ronin’s teasing you when he says all this, a giddy undercurrent carrying his voice, talking for the sake of hearing himself talk, but there's an element of truth as he says it; like he genuinely believes you’re his and his alone; destined to be bound to him in this life and any others. Or, maybe you just want it to be true. Oh Gods, you’re so in love with him it hurts.
You bite your lip, lean up into Ronin’s space to kiss him sweetly and tangle your hands in his hair, ‘Wouldn’t the devil take me to hell?’
‘Not if he wanted to show every dumbfuck up ‘n heaven what they’re missin’. All the great sex they missed out on while protecting their virtue.’
‘Careful , ‘Nin, someone might hear you and start thinking you like me.’
‘Can’t have that, can we?’ Ronin murmurs, before kissing you softly, his lips stick to yours slightly when he pulls back. You reach over, rub your hands up over his hips and start to lift his shirt. Ronin takes the hint and pulls his shirt over his head so that he’s just wearing his boxers. You sit back and pat your thighs with a shy smile to encourage him to straddle you so he’s sat over your legs.
Ronin leans in and kisses you as you brush your hands over his abdomen, trace over one of his top surgery scars before teasingly pinching his nipple. It’s meant to be a joke but Ronin gasps into your mouth and his hips twitch, one of his hands comes up to grab your wrist in his strong grasp. A smile curves its way across your face, gleeful at the thought of having something to tease him about for once, ‘Is someone sensitive?’
But you‘ve failed to take into account that Ronin has no shame, or if he does it is located somewhere very far from what you’re doing right now because he simply slides a hand to hold you by the back of your neck and says, somewhat gruffly, ‘work’s better if you use your mouth , darlin’.’
With Ronin’s hand braced on the back of your neck, guiding you to his chest so you can lick over his nipple, blow cold air against it to watch it pebble and hear him gasp, you’re reminded of who’s really in control here. It makes your clit twitch between your legs as you lick Ronin’s nipple into your mouth, suck gently as an experiment and then harder when you hear him let out a breathy moan above you. You use your other hand to brush over and then tug at his other nipple, want burning through you as you feel Ronin’s hips start to rock down against you at the sensation.
You detach your lips from his nipple for a second, scrape your teeth against his chest, over where his heart is and start pressing a series of sucking, bruising kisses up towards to his jaw. In between them you ask, ‘Can I…?’ as you ghost your hands over the waistband of his boxers.
Ronin sounds strained , and a little breathless when he says, ‘Course y’ can darlin’.’ You hold your breath as you slide his boxers over the curve of his ass and down to his knees. His pubic hair bristles as the waistband of his boxers slides over it. Your breath catches in your throat, then releases in a heavy rush as the wet seat of his boxers peels away from his cunt and then you can see it, see him .
Ronin’s pubic hair is dark black, kept neat but still pretty long; it partially obscures the view of his hard cock sticking out from between his folds, dark red at the head and a dusky colour leading up his foreskin. The edges of his cunt are shiny with slick and swollen where they part around it and you wonder for the first time how Ronin’s been waiting this long without going crazy . You feel a little crazy just looking at him; he’s so hard, and you can see his cock twitching under your heated stare. You wonder what it’d be like to suck it, how he’d feel in your mouth, against your tongue, how he’d sound . You think you might be drooling.
‘ Like what you see , baby?’
You only realise you’ve been staring when Ronin’s hand catches you by the chin and tilts your head up to look at him. He looks positively giddy with the attention you’re giving him and you find your mouth is suddenly startlingly dry. Ronin snickers at your expression and says, ‘I’ll take that as a yes .’ Your hands settle against the back of his thighs and he leans his weight back into the touch. ‘Hate t’ break it t’ ya’, sweetheart, but you’re gonna haf’ta let go of me so I get these off, y’know. I know, what a tragedy.’ He reaches down and pings the waistband of his boxers that's currently stretched between his knees. His wrist bumps his cock on the way down and you hear him hiss, watch his hips rock blindly forwards to chase the sensation.
You rub your hands over his thighs, gaze locked on his, hands brushing over his scars as you mumble something about, ‘don’t want to ‘Nin, just want to touch you. Please let me, please, please baby, I’ll be good -’
If Ronin’s grin could get any wider it would be splitting his face in two; you want to sit in this feeling forever. ‘Are you begging to suck my dick right now? Awh, darlin’, baby ,’ Ronin brushes his thumb over your lower lip, settles his hand to cup your face as he presses his thumb in against your tongue. It’s salty, a little musky in reminder of what you’ve been doing, what you’re currently doing and the thought sends a shiver down your spine. You nod around his thumb, careful to keep your teeth away from it as you lick and try pull it further into your mouth.
Ronin’s expression is edged with something sharp at his mouth settles into a wide, cocky smirk. He looks at you with lidded eyes and says, ‘Is that so? Well, I want to hear you say it. C’mon baby, say ‘Ronin, can I suck your cock, pretty please?’ and I might just let you.’ He takes his thumb out your mouth to give you the chance to speak.
You’re silent for a second, mouth opening and closing around nothing, thinking no sound is going to make it out until, unexpectedly , ‘Ronin, can I suck your cock, pretty please ,’ escapes from your mouth, whisper quiet yet unbearably loud in the silence of the room. You whimper at the sound of your own voice saying something so dirty , and Ronin‘s smirk cracks into a wide grin. You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, throbbing in a steady one-two alongside the twitching of your clit. You think all the blood in your body must be down there because your head is swimming with the want that’s coursing through you.
Ronin presses his thumb back into your mouth, pushes down on your tongue with it, curls his pointer finger under your chin and then nods your head for you . Your bottom teeth scrape against his thumb as he does it so you bite down gently, trapping his thumb for a second before releasing it. Ronin snorts , ‘ Touché,’ before he lets go and shuffles away from you so he can take his boxers off.
You giggle at the sight because try as he might there is no way humanly possible to make a backwards shuffle with your boxers around your knees look cool . Ronin raises his middle finger at you and makes a rude gesture, sticking his tongue out at you, before he flops onto his side on the bed to detangle his boxer short where he’s somehow got them twisted around his knees.
As you watch him struggle, you realise with a start that you might be kind of totally screwed , because Ronin’s rolled onto his back, his feet tucked up in the air above him, wrestling with his boxer shorts where they’re now caught around his ankles and all you can think about is how much you love him. And love him you must, because the other thing you’re thinking about is that with his legs up in the air like this you can see his ruby red cunt sitting shiny and wet between his legs, and even with him doing his best impression of a dying bug, the sight of him wet and aroused for you, leaking slick down over his asshole and between his cheeks because of you, leaves you breathless and breathing heavy with want.
You sit up and crawl over to him, slide your hands up the back of his thighs and bend his knees towards his head- they don’t go very far, Ronin is anything but flexible, but the movement is satisfying anyways. Makes your clit throb at the sight of his cunt lips slowly parting to the open air as his hole is exposed. You desperately want to taste him, want to feel what it’s like when he cums in your mouth, want him to fuck your face.
You’re so busy staring at Ronin’s cunt, breathing heavy and rubbing your thighs together to feel them squeeze around your clit that you don’t notice that Ronin’s stopped in his wriggling. ‘...Having fun?’ Ronin sounds amused, like he’s holding back a laugh at how eager you are, the way you can’t keep your hands off of him. You glance away from his cunt for a second to look up at him; Ronin’s flopped his torso to the side to look at you around his legs. From the look on his face Ronin’s barely holding back his laughter, grin stretched over his face, biting his bottom lip, unrestrained glee in his eyes at the way you’ve been feverishly staring at his cunt.
You’re silent for a second before you start to giggle, leaning heavily against his legs as laughter starts to bubble its way out of you. Ronin bursts into laughter as soon as you do and you’re both incapacitated by it- his legs come down and you end up leaning over on your elbows by the time your giggles abate. ‘Hey, hey, c’mere .’ Ronin calls you up to him. You crawl up and lean over him, he smiles up at you sweetly . ‘Nice t’know you like me ‘n’ all my grotesqueness s’much.’ You splay a hand over his ribcage, sweep it across and tap a steady rhythm over his heartbeat.
‘I more than like you Ronin, thought I’d been making that pretty clear.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know. You love me, you wanna fuck me, you can’t live without me, I’m your fix, sweetheart. You just can’t get enough of me.’
You raise your eyebrows at him while waiting for him to finish. ‘Really , ‘Nin?’
‘What? I’m just tellin’ truths, darlin’. Don’t’cha wanna hear it?’
You stare at him, unimpressed.
A slow grin stretches across Ronin’s face, ‘I’m only kidding, darlin’! Course I love you. What else d’ya think we’re doing here?’
You try not to smile but your poker face is far worse than Ronin’s so glee creeps onto it nonetheless, ‘I know.~’ You say. ‘Just wanted to hear you say it.’
Ronin snorts, ‘ my wicked little trickster ; what devil taught you that one? If you’re not careful you might just stop being a saint .’ He grins at you wickedly, the glint in his eyes letting you know that there’s nothing he would enjoy more. ‘Now , do you love me enough to put my cock in your saintly sweet mouth?’ Ronin starts to part his thighs slowly, clearly going to make a show of it but you have something specific in mind. Something you want so much it makes your heart race and palms sweat to think about it, so you stop him with a hand on his thigh. ‘Baby?’ Ronin looks at you questioningly.
You bite your lip, ‘Actually… I was thinking, maybe… like this?’ You take his hand and pull Ronin upright, lead him to crawl up over you as you lie back against the bedspread. A grin starts to form on Ronin’s face as he realises what you’re getting at.
‘Yeah, baby? You want me to fuck your mouth ?’ You nod minutely, feeling shy at seeing your boyfriend loom over you. He’s beautiful in the way things are when they’re home-made; you think you could worship at his altar forever if he’d agree to be your God.
Ronin finishes crawling up your body, stops when his knees are by your head and you swallow heavily, nerves collecting in your throat at the sight of his cock, hard and twitching so close to your face, to your mouth . You feel Ronin’s hand card through your hair, ‘You uh- you still okay?’ He asks. Your eyes flicker between his cock and his face, you want this so badly you think you might start drooling, but the weight of Ronin’s gaze fixed on you makes it impossible to speak so instead you nod shyly and run your hands over the hair on Ronin’s thighs. Ronin smiles down at you sweetly before it tips into something edged with danger and your clit pulses with a painful twinge.
Ronin rubs his thumb over your lower lip, ‘open up then, sweetheart.’ You bite your lip while looking at him, before you slowly let your mouth fall open. ‘ Good bunny.' He edges forwards slightly, adjusts his knees and then his cock is brushing your lips as his hips come down. It's hot to touch, instinctively you lick your lips and your tongue peeks out, brushing against the head of Ronin’s cock. You feel it twitch in interest even at the brief touch and your world narrows when you hear Ronin groan in response. Suddenly, nothing other than Ronin matters- his needs, his pleasure; all you can feel are your hands on his thighs, his hand carding through your hair, his cock bumping your mouth as you lurch forwards the scant few inches between you and try seal your mouth over his cock.
Ronin’s hip rock forwards as you clumsily mouth at his cock, brushing and bumping your lips over it in attempts to get it in your mouth. You hear Ronin chuckle breathlessly above you, and you look up to see him smiling sharply down at you, eyes dark and focused on your face. Ronin bites his lip as he presses his cock into your open mouth, lets it slide in against your waiting tongue as he settles his weight over you, bracing his arms on the wall behind your head.
The taste of his cock on your tongue is stronger than you expected, musky, and umami flavoured with a bittersweet tang; it’s kind of addicting; you can’t get enough of this, of Ronin. His pubic hair tickling your nose and cheeks, his thighs blockading either side of your head, keeping your focus solely on him, the weight of him, the taste, the feel of his cock twitching against your tongue.
You whine, a desperate, high pitched noise escaping you as you press your head back into the pillows, put your hands on his ass and push him forwards, encouraging him to use you. Ronin grunts , rolls his hips forwards against your face and his cock drags over your tongue. You relax your jaw, try stretching your mouth open further, push your tongue out against his cock. You hear Ronin moan from above you, his hips pushing down into the feeling.
With your tongue out you can feel the shiny flat line between his cock and his entrance, can taste the slick leaking from his cunt directly . A guttural moan escapes you as it’s leaks into your mouth. Your legs start fidgeting back and forth on the bedspread, and your hips rub back and forth in tiny little circles. You try to suck at Ronin’s cock but you can’t really get the traction with the way your mouth is pinned open. Your tongue just sort of curls around it, so instead you try focus on rubbing your tongue back and forth in rhythm with Ronin’s rutting against your mouth.
This is exactly what you wanted , Ronin on top of you seeking out his pleasure, feeling like he’s all around you, the slightly helpless feeling that comes with being pinned down by his weight like this; your clit pulses in time with Ronins movements, stings in a way that feels good when you hear the sounds he’s making. You can hear him panting roughly above you, the end of his breaths tinged with rough moans.You open your eyes, you’re not sure when you closed them, but when you open them you are greeted with the glorious sight of Ronin revelling in feeling good . The long line of his tan body is undulating above you, rocking in time with his hips, his mouth is dropped open as he pants and moans, his brows knitted together in pleasure, hazy gaze fixated on your face to where he’s feeding you his cock.
Your pussy is burning between your legs, desperate for attention, so you subtly remove one of your hands from Ronin’s ass and reach down to press two fingers over the hood of your clit, one on either side as you start to rub back and forth. Ronin’s hips rock back and forth against your mouth, you can feel his cock twitching on the down stroke as he presses it down against your tongue, feel his cunt drooling slick over your chin and a moan slips out as you start to touch yourself.
‘Feelin’ a little impatient , darlin’?’ Ronin’s pants out above you. You try scrunch your eyebrows in confusion and Ronin understands enough to gesture with his head behind him, grins at you sharply and say, ‘I turn you on so much you just couldn’t help yourself , huh, baby?’ You freeze, the movements of your hand stuttering as your face floods with heat and embarrassment for a split second, before Ronin’s cutting across the fog with, ‘Don’t do that. Don’t feel bad , sweetheart. ‘S not how I- ah - meant it.’
He grunts and grinds his cock harder against your tongue, gasps out, ‘’s hot. I like it. Like that you’re so into me you can’t stop yourself, like seeing you desperate and whining for me, like hearing you beg for my cock, love watching you suck it, loved eating your pussy, love you-’ Ronin’s words come out breathy and strained, he’s groaning between them, pushing his hips against your face almost frantically. ‘Love you, baby. Love you so much I feel crazy for it, love-’ Ronin breaks off into a desperate moan, gasps and shudders, his arm dropping to its elbow where it’s braced against the wall, hands clenched tight into fists, curving over you as his body starts to twitch and writhe.
Ronin’s eyes squeeze shut as he cums, his mouth hanging open in a long, drawn out hoarse moan, voice breaking slightly. His entire body is curling with tension above you as he shudders. You scrub your hand against your clit harder, rock your hips into the motion. The sight of Ronin cumming is hot , and you can feel a moan building in the back of your throat and escaping out your open mouth. You feel his cock pulsing against your tongue, feel it rut back and forth against your mouth in tiny, frantic increments compared to the rolling wave of before, taste the wave of slick that escapes from his hole as it pulses and clenches around nothing.
Ronin’s arm slides down the wall slightly as he stops shaking, his cock slips out your mouth and across your cheek as he lists to the side, panting heavily, before he sort of fumbles his way off of you. One of his legs is still laid heavy across your chest as he collapses beside you. You let go of your clit in favour of rolling over and slipping up between his legs, kissing Ronin being the most important thing to you right now.
Ronin’s wearing a dopey sort of grin, high on endorphins and you think this may be the most beautiful you’ve ever seen him, relaxed and sated and happy . Ronin laughs as you nuzzle his face and you end up pressing your lips to the stretched edges of his mouth.
You press yourself against Ronin, leaning between his legs as you kiss him lazily, your mouths tracing slow shapes against each other. His movements are slow, tracing his fingers up and down your sides. You know he’s just doing it out of instinct, enjoying the feeling of being close to you like this, but your clit is hard and heavy feeling between your legs, demanding attention by twitching as the his fingers spark fire against your skin.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and shift to straddle Ronin’s thigh. Ronin’s hands find your waist as you settle there. You shiver as your pussy comes into contact with his bare thigh, hips jerking as your clit presses against his bare skin, and a moan slips past your lips. You meant to give him a second to recover, meant to ignore the burning need between you thighs but Ronin just huffs a laugh against your lips and says ‘somebody’s insatiable. ‘ S my dear darling bunny gonna be living up to their pet name? We gonna be fucking like rabbits now that you’d had a taste ? Got you addicted, huh baby? He cackles loudly at his own joke, head tipping back before he says, ‘C’mon then bunny , hump my leg. You gotta work for your carrot.’ A manic giggle slips past his lips and you think he’s maybe a little delirious.
You snort a laugh, more at how ridiculous Ronin’s being than the content of what he’s saying but it’s funny all the same. ‘Thought you already gave me your, um… carrot just a second ago.’ You pause, thinking, ‘this bunny’s already eaten.’ You can’t help but giggle loudly through that ridiculous sentence, but even as you talk you can’t help but roll your hips forwards against his thigh anyway, your clittwitching insistently against his thigh as the mere feeling of being pressed against your boyfriend like this.
Ronin snickers, opens his mouth to retort but you beat him to it, grab one of his hands off your waist and say, ‘actually, um- I want-’ You lift yourself off his thigh, your cunt pulling away from his skin sticky and wet, and bring his hand down between your legs.
Ronin’s gaze flits down to where his hand is being held just underneath your cunt but actually touching it. ‘Suppose I did promise you something along those lines.’ He leans up and kisses you softly, you gasp against his mouth as his hand makes contact with your steadily twitching clit, and your hips stutter forwards into the press of his fingers.
Ronin slides finger between your folds, rubbing over the flat of your cunt and then against your entrance to gather the slick that's there and bring it up to massage it over your clit. He brushes the slick up over the hood and then rubs his thumb over your clit a couple times before tracing it around the edge of the hood, right where it folds around your clit. Your hips buck into, and then away from his grip. Where he’s playing with you is sensitive, and the pleasure almost burns as he traces his finger around it. Ronin chuckles breathlessly, ‘Does that feel good , baby?’ You nod frantically, eyes starting to dip shut. Just when you think it’s too much, and the pleasure just starts to lace itself with pain, Ronin lets go and rubs his fingers in tight circles over your clit.
Ronin rubs his other hand across the skin on your hip before dipping it down between your legs too. He grins at you lazily from where he’s leaned back against the wall as he slips his fingers between your folds again and rubs over your entrance. You jerk, surprised at how good it feels to have your pussy touched at the same time as your clit. You push your hips down into the sensation, wanting more but Ronin moves his hand with you, keeps the same teasing pressure until you look at him and see the question on his face. You feel exposed, caught in his downright predatory gaze as you nod, desperately, frantic to let him know that you want this too.
Ronin presses in with one of his fingers, slowly , and you let out a high pitched moan, feeling every second of it as it burns its way into your pussy. It's so warm , and long, and solid, and everytime you clench around it little electric tingles zap up and down your spine and into your clit. You can’t help but rock your hips into his hand, gaze laser focused on his arms, unable to think about anything other than the fact a part is Ronin is inside you, burning a trail of fire where no one has ever touched before, where you yourself can’t reach. Ronin, who’s grinning at you like he knows he’s just blown the roof off your mind and that you’re going to need this everyday, forever, until you die .
You whimper, moans leaking out past your lips around your desperate panting as your hips rock back and forth and Ronin draws his finger out of your slowly. You feel it exactly the same amount as it went in, except the burning line of pleasure it draws in your mounts somehow, and you can’t stop it as your hips start to chase the motion of Ronin’s hand, and you start riding his finger in jerky motions as you struggle to keep your eyes open.
‘ You're doing so good for me, sweetheart ,’ Ronin praises you and your eyes snap open at the compliment, your hips jerk forwards and you manage to see his gleeful expression clearly for a split second before your vision blurs at the edges, pussy convulsing, spasming around his finger and then you’re cumming; clit contracting in Ronin’s grasp and pussy squeezing around his finger. It rocks through you but all you can focus on is the sensation of him in you, how much of your cunt you can feel convulsing around him. You can hear yourself whining near continuously, gasping out desperate breaths around your moans, hips rolling and twitching, body spasming and pussy gripping Ronin’s finger tightly. You gasp and your hips stutter against as the feeling of his hand on your clit turns sharp and you spasm, falling forwards slightly and catching yourself on Ronin’s shoulders.
Ronin kisses the side of your head and it would be sweet if he wasn’t drawing a line finger in circles on the head of your clit just to feel you twitch spasm from the over sensitivity. You whine, slur out his name and try bat Ronin’s hand away from your clit with a clumsy hand, leaning heavily against him all the while. You feel his finger slowly pull out of you, his hand rubbing up over your hip, pressing gently on your lower back until you collapse onto him with a squeak. Ronin wraps his arms around you, readjusts your sticky limbs until you’re pressed against each other comfortably as you catch your breath.
‘Thought you were gonna make me squirt, no?’ You mumble out against his neck.
Ronin laughs, sharp and loud, surprised by your line of questioning. ‘Baby , you came so fast I didn’t have a chance to get a second finger in there . You want me to make you squirt, you’re gonna have to last a little longer, darlin’.’ Ronin chuckles and you squirm, turn your flushed face further into his neck and scrape your teeth there in protest. Ronin just hums , pets his hand down the back of your head to leave it resting on your neck, content in just holding you to him.
‘ So , was it everything you ever dreamed , darlin’?’ The question sounds insincere, sarcastic even , but you know he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it, wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want to know the answer.
You nod your head from where you’re pressed against Ronin’s neck, start absentmindedly tracing abstract shapes over his chest and say, ‘mhm,’ in a sleepy tone.
‘You passing out on me , darlin’? Wow, guess I fucked you good , huh?’ Ronin’s snickering as he says it, clearly joking but you’re too fucked out to argue, so instead you just nod again and snuggle further into his embrace. Ronin snorts, readjusts his arms to be more comfortable and leans his head against yours. ‘Guess we can take a little nap.’
‘Big nap.’ You mumble.
You feel his laugh more than you hear it, ‘Not a big nap, darlin’ , what if we never wake up?’ Ronin’s being stupid , but it makes you giggle all the same.
‘Good.’
‘Good ?‘
‘Mhm, same grave.’
Ronin’s silent for a second before you hear, ‘Shit, darlin’. Didn’t know you liked me so much.’ It comes out quiet; there’s no sarcasm or sardonic overlay that alters his words into a bastardisation of their meaning, just the truth.
You rub your face against his collarbone and say, ‘mhm, course I do; you’re Ronin. I love you.’
Okay straight up he’s an asshole if you’re the younger sibling. Dude is gonna bully you like he’s the kind of sibling that would smack you across the head while your just doing your own thing and then both of y’all start an outright brawl in which you win obviously. (I have the feeling he’s the type to start fights and not finish them.)
If we’re talking about modern AU if you’re going to schools and stuff it’s going to be a private school cause ✨money✨ no one would know you’re related. It might either be because both of you look totally different and act differently from each other or nobody really asked if one of you had siblings.
He’s a caring brother but being an asshole comes first👍
“Hey y/n I bought ice cream!” Anastacius yelled from downstairs as he munched on the delicious and cold treat, as the air conditioner barely kept the room cold in the hot summer.
“Coming!” You barreled downstairs. “Okay where’s mine?” You asked noticing the absence of another ice cream neither in the bag nor in his hands other than the one he’s eating.
“Who said I bought you one?” He smiled innocently. “I just announced I bought ice cream.”
“You’re the literal worst.” You snapped at him as you turn to walk away back to your room. Something cold tapped on your head.
“Just kidding~ I bought some for the two of you.”
“You still suck by the way.”
“Oh you don’t want it? It’s fine I’ll eat it I was hungry for seconds anyways~”
“No you will not!”
He’ll totally spy on you if you go on a date with someone. Que a montage of him following you around in terrible disguises as he pulls Claude along for the shenanigans cause he didn’t have anything better to do but secretly he’s also making sure they pass the vibe check. Or they’re getting vibe checked if you know what I mean
If your significant other breaks your heart he’s going to comfort you while also simultaneously plotting their demise with Claude just doing some friendly research on the best ways to hide a body results were inconclusive.
Anastacius loves his two younger siblings. Even if he’s annoying, steals your stuff, eat your food, smacks you for no reason, leaves your door open after he enters your room for nothing. He loves you and it’s honestly a surprise he’s still standing without being bitch slapped but dw Penelope did it for you that one time
Anastacius [Younger]
If you’re the older sibling of this little demon, good luck with the random spurts of heart attacks. He was and still is the major cause of your grey hairs.
With his seemingly innocent face no one would suspect his extremely reckless ploy of getting back at other people for various reasons. The little shit holds grudges just like your youngest sibling.
He is a lot more sociable! He’s the social butterfly in the family but more of like a moth with his attraction to anything that might possibly lead him to be in a coffin. It’s just cause he trusts you and he knows you’ll always have his back thus the grey hairs.
“I feel like jumping.”
“And I’d kill you myself if you don’t die on impact.”
“Where would we all be if siblings don’t constantly threaten each other with murder?”
“A utopian civilization, with unicorns.”
“Take a joke will ya- wooahh-”
You pulled him back by the collar of his shirt before he fell off from the window frame.
“Aaand this is why I told you to get off of it.”
“But then how would I be able to aim clearly at the Principal’s head?” He says as he check up on his little weapon which is a sling shot big enough to fit a pie with filling made with things not so very sweet.
“And thus begins the tale of how y/n and Anastacius got expelled.”
“Well school can’t be for everyone can it?” He quipped mischievously.
“You- we shouldn’t be doing this Ana.”
“We shouldn’t be doing most things but look how far humanity has come because of it.”
He is more of the bad influence than you are as you can see, and he can be truly wonderful at convincing others to get on with his shenanigans. Just look at his senior Alpheus even he got roped into his little schemes.
I think he’d be more chill if you start dating anyone he trusts you can make the right choices in relationships. You literally took care of him and if both of you can survive that, you’re pretty much ready for anything.
But wait you’re heartbroken? Ice creams and cakes galore! But excuse me- I gotta take this for a minute. Oh! You mean there’s a body-
Overall he’s a cheeky little shit and you’re on 24 hours baby sitting duty even as adults.
He was the one who called you for advice when he had Jeanette. But that story is for another time~
Don't tell me you don't want this. (they/them ver) (NSFW)
Looking for the he/him version?
Ao3 link! - Don't tell me you don't want this.
MINORS DO NOT RB OR COMMENT! PLEASE.
Summary:
You knew L was going to notice your crush on him sooner or later. You just didn’t expect him to bring it up in a room full of your colleagues.
33,776 words of explicit L/reader insert, 25k set up, 8k porn (ish). Longest thing I've written to date so be nice lol.
Pronouns & genital terms used!:
Reader- they/them, clit, pussy, cunt, entrance
CW: Reader has a panic attack during this fic (not during the sex), and L is kind of manipulative (not intentionally mean tho).
Notes and NSFW content warnings under the cut.
NSFW content warnings: multiple orgasms, size kink, edging, d/s dynamic, cunnilingus, armpit kink? If you squint?
Notes: L is referred to as ‘Ryuzaki’ for most of this fic
set early-ish in the investigation
L calls reader ‘bambi’ for… plot reasons… not because I find it hot…. not at alllll…..
××××××××××
You’re sitting watching one of several monitors over Ryuzaki’s shoulder for the sixth day in a row when it happens. When your world gets tipped sideways and you wish the Earth would split wide and swallow you whole just so you don’t have to live through it. Well, maybe that's a slight exaggeration but it does feel like an ice bucket is being tipped over your head. You don’t know what to do when he says it. First being confused by his unusual line of questioning, then abjectly mortified by where it ends up. Considering that the Ryuzaki you’d gotten to know over these past few months didn’t care for small talk, or even big talk if it wasn’t at least tangentially related to the case, you should have known there was some other reason for him to be asking how you’ve been sleeping.
Your eyes had glazed over long before this happened. Tired and bored it was hard to keep your focus from slipping onto more… entertaining prospects. Prospects like the one sitting right in front of you, perched on a wheelie chair with his knees pulled up to his chest. Your gaze shifts ever so slightly from the grainy picture in front of you to just left of it, pulled in by the repetitive motion of him pulling a lock of hair through his long fingers. You didn’t notice when you started watching Ryuzaki tuck and then untuck his hair around his ear, but it is somehow mesmerising. His other hand is presumably preoccupied clicking his thumbnail between his teeth.
You can hear the sharp tik-tik-tik of it in the near silence of the room, the only other audio coming from the CCTV being played before you but even that is just fuzzy static. Ryuzaki claims it helps him focus. He’s already said he doesn’t think there’s any new information to be gleaned from watching this tape again, so you don’t feel too bad for watching him instead. Focus drifting to how big his hands are, how long his fingers are, the sharp, bony edges of his wrists and you wonder yet again if the man eats anything other than sweets. Where it all goes on his wiry, lean frame? How soft his belly must be. If his nipples are puffy and his tits are soft. This is a topic you come back to often. You caught a glance of him shirtless once, so you know his nipples are brown. A surprise given how pale he is but certainly not an unwelcome one.
You’ve had a crush on Ryuzaki for a couple months now. The attraction had been immediate but the feelings only blossomed once you got to know him more. Mainly after it became apparent how lost the entire task force would be without him, thus making some of his earlier choices seem a little less severe and more unfortunately necessary.
If you were any less shy maybe you would have done something about them- the feelings, but Ryuzaki really doesn’t seem interested in anything other than catching Kira and maybe occasionally teasing you but you’re not sure that’s anything more than an intellectual pastime of indulging his mild latent sadism. You’re not even sure if he knows about your interest in him or if he just enjoys watching you skitter. And you’re not interested in making more of a fool of yourself than you regularly do. So, instead you’ve chosen to stifle and sit on your feelings in hopes they’ll go away.
However, your attempts to crush them out of existence don’t seem to be working as of late, considering they keep cropping up at the most inopportune times. Like now for example, when you’re supposed to be working and instead you’re thinking about how his nipples would taste. Sweet, like all the sugar he eats? Or maybe salty, with how little inclination for self care the man exhibits he’s got to be at least a little sweaty most of the time.
You stifle an airy giggle to yourself. Your hand comes up to cover your mouth in surprise at the noise when Ryuzaki turns his wide eyed, inquisitive stare on you. He’s only turned his neck, and not the rest of his body. Like some kind of fucked up owl. You were right, and his thumb is indeed in his mouth. You jump, startled out of your daydream by him. It takes a couple tries wetting your dry mouth with your tongue before you can stop thinking about anything other than the shape and shade and weight of his cock in your mouth.
‘Are you alright, Bambi?’
‘Huh? What? Oh… Ye-yes I’m-I’m fine.’ You laugh awkwardly, hoping to dispel the tension you know he can’t feel. You twirl your hair between your fingers for something to do with your hands. You must be redder than a tomato with how on fire your face feels. But, better the blood rushing there than… other places, you suppose, as you squirm awkwardly in your seat. You feel like a bug under a microscope under his wide-eyed, investigative gaze.
Ryuzaki’s mouth turns down slightly. He pauses the tapes that you’re not watching without even looking at it, and then a leg comes down to spin his chair to face you before returning to its usual position. He scratches the toes on his left foot with his right and you swallow nervously as you look on. You’re fucked. Oh you’re so fucked. Somehow, someway, something has connected in that freaky huge detective brain of his and you now have his full undivided attention right where you don’t want it. Focused on your face and your body language right after you’ve been spacing out thinking about how delicious it would be to be fucked by him. Shit.
You’re familiar enough with Ryuzaki’s idiosyncrasies by now to know he does things like the feet on feet scratching when he’s hyper focused. He says it’s because he doesn’t want to break his posture, and risk missing a crucial break in the case because ‘his deductive reasoning is lowered by forty-percent’ when he sits normally. Whatever the fuck that means.
Ryuzaki frowns deeper and scoots his chair towards you, leaning in far enough that you start to hold your breath in hopes he won’t notice the spike in your breathing at the closeness. He’s tilting his head to the side and staring blankly past you when you start to question whether Ryuzaki can secretly read minds, or if somehow he has some kind of superhuman hearing where your steadily faster thumping heart is audible to him. Either way, you’re getting steadily more convinced that the jig is already up, but you’re not going down without a fight. Embarrassment will not kill you this day. Maybe tomorrow, but not today. You steel your resolve and put on your best poker face.
The other members of the task force are sitting on the couches behind you. You can feel their gaze on the situation without even turning to look. Part of you is desperately hoping that they’re far too busy with work to focus on the two of you, but you know in your heart that the reality is the room is tiny, and they can hear all of this in high definition even if they don’t look.
You all split into different teams earlier this week when Matsuda and Aizawa claimed they couldn’t watch any more of the same CCTV without clawing their eyes out. You understand their sentiment, it’s hard to feel useful when you can’t figure out what other data you could extrapolate from the tapes. You feel a little useless everytime Ryuzaki catches some small detail overlooked on the last run, whether inconsequential to the investigation or not. But Ryuzaki requested you personally aid him, so here you are. Your coworkers have been pouring over weeks of data trying to trace Kira in any possible way instead. From the tense atmosphere behind you this week, you’ve begun to think the endless data scrolling is somehow worse than the hours upon hours of CCTV.
The team needs a new lead quite desperately, yet nothing seems to pan out so morale is low among all the officers here. Ryuzaki himself doesn’t seem at all affected. So when he deemed it necessary to have two eyes on the screens instead of one ‘incase he missed something’, you didn’t question it, hoping to feel helpful for once, but over time it’s become quite apparent you’re just here as insurance. A physical fail-safe allowing ‘L’ to explain his case to the others without seeming totally crazy when he inevitably figures it out from some seemingly insignificant detail. He said he picked you, out of all the others, due to your ‘tenacity’ and ‘keen sense of observation’. But you’re of the opinion that he’s simply rewarding you for not telling him your real, legal name alongside everyone else the first time you met. Some reward. Watching the same CCTV footage on repeat ‘in case you missed something’, instead of reading sheet after sheet of mindless data, logging peoples movement, looking for the slightest hint of suspicion. You knew it would be hard work when you signed on to this case, you just didn’t know it would be so boring. You wonder for the first time since you all started this if Ryuzaki, if L is stuck too, or if he even knows what he’s looking for.
Then you wonder if he would have still rewarded you if he knew the real reason you didn’t tell him your name when you first met. If you explained to him how within thirty seconds of laying eyes on him all you could focus on was his tall stature and the lazy confidence within which he held himself, one hand tucked nonchalantly in his jean’s pocket while meeting the Superintendent of the NPA. What he would think if you told him that his dark circles and ‘can’t be bothered’ heavy lidded stare had frozen you in place as a mixture of fear and arousal had trickled down your spine. That if he’d asked for your name then and there your tongue would simply have felt too big to move in your mouth. That the most you would have gotten out was a rasping ‘hah’ as you tried desperately to unstick it. Maybe he does know, even if he didn’t then. It was, after all, how you’d gotten your nickname, ‘Bambi’.
All the other officer’s were given normal aliases such as ‘Captain Shijuro Asahi’ instead of ‘Detective Superintendent Yagami’ and yet when it came to you, ‘Bambi’ is what he called you. Of course, your fake badge says something different but that’s what he called you. Calls you. The first time you heard it, it startled you out of your hazy cloud of anxious anticipation and flinched you into movement when he had booped you with the lollipop that had been in his mouth. His mouth. On your nose. With a sweet, monotoned drawl of, ‘coming, Bambi?’, after you hadn’t moved with everyone else. It still jellies your legs now to think about it.
You didn’t even mind that it was sticky and wet, leaving a smudge on your nose. Not hearing the chief's complaints about professionalism, you had followed along robotically after the others as they settled into the room and Ryuzaki explained that it was, ‘because you looked like a deer in headlights.’ as his own defence. You noted that he’d (wisely) chosen to omit defending the nose-boop. You’d spun to face him, startled at his reasoning and Ryuzaki had had this entirely innocent smile on his face. Like a puppy that was about to be treated to his favourite snack and was just waiting in anticipation. You could practically see his tail wagging proudly behind him. Your face had flushed redder than hell and you rushed to your seat hoping that no-one else had noticed the influence he had on you within your first five minutes of meeting.
That’s where you are now, months later. Still feeling the same tummy-churning sense of shame over your body's gut reaction to him and how casually he’s leaning into your space. Staring intently at your face like if he looked long enough he could unravel your very essence. You feel yourself going red. Maybe he can. Ryuzaki sits back, hands going to clutch at his feet as he mutters, ‘...as I thought.’, before rubbing his thumb over the wet line of his upper lip.
You instinctively say, ‘what?’, and immediately wince, wishing you hadn’t given him the opening. Not that it’s going to make a difference. Ryuzaki is going to say what he’s going to say whether you want to hear it or not, but still… It’s like you’re playing devil's advocate for him.
‘How has your sleep been recently?’ You blink. It’s not the question you expected him to ask but Ryuzaki’s staring at you in earnest, his wide eyes trained on your face to look for signs of honesty or discomfort.
He told you once that he didn’t really understand emotions all that much, or why people were driven to do certain things rather than just ask or talk about it diplomatically. It’s why he liked Kira. Not that he’d ever tell anyone else that, and with the caveat that it was only as much as anyone could like a mass-murdering freak. He understands him.
Ryuzaki explained that Kira had motivations that were easily discernible to someone as logic driven as himself. He’d said he knew for certain that if- no, when he found the evidence to put Kira to justice, that Kira himself would answer any and all the questions Ryuzaki had for him. That he wouldn’t be able to help himself. Ryuzaki even suggested the possibility of Kira confessing to his crimes of his own volition before there’s evidence if the two of them ever meet in person, simply due to his ego.
Part of you worries that this is his contingency if you don’t come across real, physical evidence of his crimes. And it’s seeming increasingly more possible as each day without a new lead comes to pass. The Ryuzaki you know would invite Kira into his own home under false pretences to see if he slips up without blinking. The other part of you knows there’s no point in worrying about it because there is no stopping Ryuzaki once he’s decided something. You can only hope he’s as smart as he seems to be and that he catches Kira before Kira kills him.
You’d laughed at the time, spoon halfway from your ice cream to your mouth, you’d flicked it accidentally into Ryuzaki’s face. Of course he simply swiped the dessert off his cheek into his mouth without blinking, sucking his fingers in a way that made your mouth drop open and your eyes dilate and your cunt flutter. You must have stared at his fingers for a good minute before you could get yourself under control. Having to shake your head to clear your thoughts and you keep an intense eye contact with your own dessert for the rest of the conversation, head down and ears burning, hoping against God that your hair would protect at least a semblance of your face as Ryuzaki continued to explain.
Nothing could stop you from continuously glancing over though as Ryuzaki told you that he’d learnt most people were unwilling to answer his questions honestly, and that he’d been forced to learn the physical signs of most emotions in order to aid him in both his detective work and personal life. You’d wondered how much real world application he’s managed to get from that, considering his almost alien nature to the task force. Whether Aizawa and Ukita would be less irate with him in your downtime if they knew how much work he was putting in to simply talk to them. You couldn’t help but think it was a little bit sad while playing with your spoon. That he has to do so much emotional labour just to even the playing field, and that you would answer his questions honestly, if ever he asked. You even told him as much.
But… maybe not now, you think to yourself as the memory floods back to you. Not when you’re trying so desperately to keep something hidden from him. Something you’d really rather remain private and then die in obscurity. Not when the stakes are so high. Sure, maybe it’d started off as a simple uncontrollable physical attraction. One you thought would go away after spending countless hours in his company, but the longer you've been spending with him, the worse it’s been getting. At this point your crush has grown way beyond the bounds of physical desire. Making your unshaking need to keep this hidden all the greater. You just knew it would be humiliating for you if he ever found out about it.
Mainly because you’re certain he won’t return your affections. You’re pretty sure you’re not his type: he treats you much the same as your coworkers and while that could be due to professionalism, considering that he forgoes most other aspects of it including socks, you really rather doubt it. Plus, Ryuzaki has a very one-track mind, so you’re unsure if he even thinks about you in a capacity that’s not attached to the Kira case. If you exist to him outside of work. You doubt he has many thoughts pertaining to anything other than Kira at the moment. He seems to work tirelessly, day and night. Interest and attention rarely waning and when it does it’s simply a switch in focus to a distraction that allows his mind a break to process the information he absorbed earlier and organise it.
You worry sometimes that that’s all you are. A distraction. He does seem to seek you out more so than others when he needs a break but you’d don’t know if that’s because he doesn’t quite… click with the others or if he really likes you the most. You think he does. You’re pretty sure that you’re good friends, not just coworkers, but you don’t know. Not for certain. Therefore, he can’t know. You don’t want him to know. You’re not sure you could live with it. At least this way you can live in the ‘what if’ rather than sink in the abyss of the ‘definite no’. You’re sure if he ever found out about your crush it wouldn’t bother him, heck he probably wouldn’t ever think about it after the fact but you’re not so sure you would survive the humiliation. Wanting someone so desperately who maybe doesn’t even think about you. So, you’re choosing to melt into the carpet at the slightest provocation rather than wear your heart on your sleeve and let him know how you feel. It’s safer this way.
You have to snap yourself out of your musings to remind yourself that Ryuzaki is waiting for your response. He asked you how you were sleeping, you think to yourself. ‘I-uh, well? I think. Not any-any different from use-usual, I don’t-don’t think,’ You feel put on the spot from how intently he’s staring at you. A little panicked too. He’s never once bothered asking how you are before, preferring to dive right into whatever he’s thinking about at any given moment with the expectation that you will share if you want to. And now he’s asking about your sleep? This is… weird. You’re unsettled by it.
‘Not any more stressed out than usual? Nothing weighing on your mind? Feeling exhausted from the repetitive nature of the work?’ He inquires further, leaning in again as he does.
You feel the heat rise to your face as it flushes further. He knows. He knows. He knows. How does he know? Your mind starts racing and you don’t know where to look, flickering between his intense stare and his arms and his bare fucking feet tucked up on the edge of his chair.
‘I only ask because you’ve not been acting like yourself recently. Normally you’re full of keen, if not helpful, observations on people and their motivations. However, lately you seem to be staring off into space more than you are working. If you were me that would be normal but you are not me and I need you to be you right now. You notice what I don’t. I wanted your opinion on what, if anything, I might be missing but that’s impossible if you’re not fully here mentally... You’re distracted, and we need all grounds covered if we’re going to catch Kira…’ He goes back to biting his thumb nail after saying all this, worrying it between his teeth the way he does when he’s deep in thought.
You almost collapse in relief. Huh. You’d never once thought he had assigned you here because he wants your help. You’d figured it was more like he valued your unthinking obedience since you don’t really argue with him. Largely because you know he is leagues smarter than everyone else in the room, but also because you know that people normally come to agree with him after he explains himself. Also, admittedly, because you find him so incredibly sexy. In the weirdest, most disarming way possible. And having his wide eyed, intense stare on you for any length of time increases the likelihood of him figuring you out that much faster because you quickly lose the ability to form coherent sentences.
Normally when you disagree with him it’s over domestic things. Like when you decided you’d had enough of seeing his greasy mop hunched over a screen eating his six hundredth sweet and/or bowl of cereal and you’d decided someone was going to make this man take a shower. Everyone else feeling too polite or too awkward to even bring it up to him other than through vague hinting, and someone had to do something. So when the hinting didn’t work, and when you asking him flat out several times didn’t work, you grabbed him by the arm and dragged him bodily over to the bathroom.
At first you weren’t very successful. Being too nervous to get that close to him and stuttering when you tried to ask, feeling more than awkward. But after he had waved you off for the sixth time in a single day and you had smelt him from a metre away you’d sucked it up for the sake of everyone’s noses. Not even flinching after you pulled him to his feet in a surprise attack and he’d swayed bodily over you and into your space with shock and surprise written on his features. You’d just grabbed his shirt by the collar and started briskly moving down the corridor with that momentum before he caught on to what was happening. Bursting into the bedroom you knew was down the hall and briskly stepping over the mess of clothing left on his floor, you turned on the shower and chucked him into it in one large sweeping movement. Hissing ‘Wash. For the love of God and all things holy: wash.’
Only then did Ryuzaki raise an arm and take a whiff of his own armpit, face pinching in distaste for a split second before dropping it and nodding shortly at you. It was then your turn to feel embarrassed as he started stripping off his wet shirt and trousers with no fear for your presence. It was bad enough when his white shirt had started to become translucent from the water and you had kept determined eye contact with him but this? This was too much.
You squeaked, as his sopping shirt went sailing over his head and splatted on the floor beside you. You caught a glance of a brown nipple and then the thick black hair decorating his armpit and then what looked like a dark mole on the fat of his left asscheek as his soaking jeans- no underwear- caught awkwardly on his crotch and he cursed flatly under his breath and you couldn’t breathe as you hightailed it from the room.
You were so embarrassed that you could only nod awkwardly when Matsuda started asking if you managed to make him wash, the two of you having planned this attack earlier in the day when all normal methods of making this man aware of his stench had utterly failed. At least, after being scruffed like a kitten and thrown into an already running shower with his clothes on, Ryuzaki now usually acquiesces to semi-regular bathing habits after the first push or two from you. And, Matsuda’s victory dance was admittedly rather funny.
You take a deep breath and steady yourself. Lying doesn’t come easily to you. Not that you’re bad at it, rather, just that it leaves a bad taste in your mouth. One you can’t wash out. ‘Oh! Well, I mean, it's just that the footage is rather monotonous. Maybe I need a break haha.’ Technically that is true.
Ryuzaki takes no longer than a second to ponder your answer before he says, ’I don’t see how you could find this more boring than when we were watching the CCTV footage from before we caught sight of Penber… In fact, I think this footage is perhaps the most interesting thing we’ve seen all week. Or, do you find that a man’s public death in service of the police force is not interesting enough for you?’
What? Oh fuck. You glance at one of the several monitors in front of you and true to fact staring back at you are several differing angles of Raye Penber’s dying form. How the fuck did you drift off during the most tragic part of all the tapes? Goddamn it. It’s not your fault this is the four hundredth time you’ve watched them! And it wasn’t like you got distracted while he was dying! It was before that. When you noticed the freckle just underneath Ryuzaki’s hairline on the back of his neck. Shit. That’s not a good excuse.
You know that Ryuzaki doesn’t give a flying fuck about you insulting this man’s memory. He’s just mad you aren’t telling him the truth, so he’s punishing you for it. Publicly. The thought makes you seeth internally. Sometimes you hate this man-child. You know the other members of the task force are all watching you now. You can feel their eyes on the back of your neck.
‘Ryuzaki.’ Chief Yagami has stood up. ‘Give them a break. Clearly they’re exhausted mentally and emotionally from watching that tape on repeat. It would take it out of anyone.’ God you love your chief. Love love love! You could just kiss him! Professionally, of course.
‘No. That’s not it. I just asked them if they’re tired and they said no.’ He taps his thumb against his lip. ‘They’re hiding something.’ Oh. There’s more to it than you thought. Ryuzaki’s not just antagonising you for entertainment. Hei’s upset. You’ve upset him by lying. You can see it in the tension of his shoulders, and the way his feet aren’t moving. He won’t say as much in front of the entire task force but you’ve hurt his feelings. Fuck. You’re lying to him after you told him you wouldn’t and he knows. You’re going to get no mercy here. And he’s going to figure it out if you don’t say something quick. You have to fix this, without making it any worse. Your next lie needs to be a good one.
‘No-no, I-I’m not hiding any-anything. I’m probably just-just really tired. Yeah, I’ve not been-been sleeping very -wuh-well you see.’ Oh for God’s fucking sake maybe you are a bad liar. You pray to God he doesn’t notice.
‘You’re lying to me. Badly at that.’ The clicking of his nail between his teeth starts up again. ‘Something is very wrong here.’ He’s gonna figure it out. You know he’s going to figure it out. You can feel it in your gut. Maybe you can make a quick exit. A fast retreat. You spin on your heel and see Chief Yagami halfway across the room, watching things unfold with a concerned look on his face. Matsuda’s standing up but hasn’t left his seat yet. Your other three coworkers are still seated, but with their heads turned your way in interest. Great. Your humiliation has an audience. At least they’re worried about you, you guess? You’d rather they weren’t fucking here right now though. You feel like a rat trapped in a corner. Ryuzaki’s thoughtful humming from behind you is the same tone as a purring cat about to devour its prey. You pray beyond hope that the ground opens up and swallows you whole. Or that the grim reaper is real and takes some serious fucking pity on your right now and puts you in an early grave.
Ryuzaki’s muttering behind you is a mere murmur yet you can hear it ringing loud in the pin-drop silence of the room. Your feet won’t cooperate with your brain and you’re glued to the spot in horror as you hear him rattle off, ‘You’re distracted and unfocused at work, hardly paying attention… You’ve been rather short-tempered when you have been paying attention, RE: the shower incident. You keep turning red when I try to talk to you. In fact, your face is rather red right now, I can see the colour all the way down your neck. You don’t turn that colour when talking to anyone else. I’ve caught you staring at me instead of the tape several times now-I’ve got it.’
Oh no. You knew this would happen at some point but this is so much worse than you ever could have imagined. You cringe internally, preparing yourself. ‘You want to have sex with me.’ Ryuzaki says. Out loud. To the room full of your coworkers. To the room full of your coworkers who are all watching you. Including your boss, who you’re currently making excruciating eye contact with. Chief Yagami’s eyes are wide, mouth open in outrage. Like he can’t believe what he’s just heard.
‘Ryuzaki!’ He says sharply, in an admonishing tone. It doesn’t make you feel any better. You cringe and shut your eyes. You cannot deal with the scandalised look on his face right now.
You just know Ryuzaki’s staring at you, you can feel it on the back of your neck. He’ll be too proud of his discovery to consider the embarrassment it could be causing you to have your dirty laundry aired like that. And he phrased it in quite possibly the worst way. You want to die. Dear God, you want to die. Kira, if you’re watching- you start and then immediately stop, just in case he is watching. God fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck shit! You think, before mentally attempting to compose yourself to try to do some damage control. You can do this. You open your eyes.
You laugh, a little too loudly, going, ‘Whaaat? Ryuzaki, don’t be absurd. I told you I’m just tired.’ You spin around to face him, arms up all casual like. You can’t believe the sight you’re greeted with. This fucking asshole has pulled a lollipop out from somewhere, and is currently unwrapping it like he didn’t just drop a bomb on the room.
He wrestles with the wrapper for a second before ripping it off with his teeth. Usually you’d be taken in by this rather silly display but all it serves to do currently is light a fire of embarrassed rage under your ass. Like now that he’s figured out your true feelings the important work has been done and there’s nothing better to do than eat a fucking lollipop. You’re mortified. You’re mortified and he’s eating a lolly. Fuck Kira, you might kill him.
Ryuzaki licks the lollipop once before turning his head to face you and freezing. He seems a little taken aback by the wild look on your face. You can’t imagine how you look right now. Bright red face, mouth a stretched, awkward grin, furiously fighting tears. Ryuzaki continues anyway, like explaining his reasoning will make any of this better. He’s speaking to you but not quite looking you in the face, instead choosing to gaze just off to the left of you as he says, ‘I asked before how you were sleeping and you said you were sleeping fine. You provided no alternative reason as to why your work has been lacking and your attention has been practically non-existent. You’re short tempered when you are paying attention and while the current lack of leads could be a factor the fact that these incidents seem to be clustered around myself leads me to believe that you’re frustrated. Sexually. Because of me. You want to have sex with me and it’s affecting your work. I find this reason not only acceptable but the most likely. Yes. Your lie, and your bad one at that, combined with all the other factors I just listed tells me that you find me sexually attractive and would like to have sex with me. Or, would you prefer the pseudonym ‘making love’?’ Ryuzaki puts the lollipop back in his mouth.
‘Ryuzaki! This is not an appropriate topic for the workplace!’ Oh, the Chief sounds furious. Your face must be tomato red by now. You’re going to kill him. You’re quite literally going to kill him. Kira will just have to be jealous. You’re pretty sure you’re shaking.
‘Ryuzaki! You can’t just say that to someone!’ Matsuda chimes in, sounding outraged on your behalf. If you could turn around to look at him you’d guess he’s got his fists clenched in anger and a look of shock on his face but you’re frozen in place. Unable to look away from Ryuzaki even though he’s staring at the fucking wall. Why won’t he look at you?
At least your coworkers are on your side, and you’re not the only one who thinks this is wrong, you think, before the much nastier thought of, ‘yeah because they pity you,’ overtakes it. You wish the ground would open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Hell would be nicer than this.
Ryuzaki spins his chair slightly to face Matsuda, looks him right in the face. So he’ll look at him but not you? …You get the thought that maybe he’s relieved. Like this conversation isn’t going the way Ryuzaki thought it would and he’s happy to have an out. You scoff. Your face feels numb. All you can hear is the rushing of your blood past your ears. You’ve never been so embarrassed. You can see Ryuzaki talking but you can’t really hear what he’s saying. Robotically, you turn on your heel and start to walk out the room.
As your ears ring you can't’ help but pick up the end of their conversation, ‘Why not? I don’t see a problem with it, it's the truth. Their work has been lacking recently and sexual frustration seems to be the cause of it. I don’t think it’s a bad idea either. Sex is beneficial for both the mind and the body. Sexual frustration can hinder a person’s ability to reason properly and we need everyone in top form if we’re going to catch Kira. This includes Bambi.’ That fucking nickname. So you’re a benefit now? A problem to solve? Ryuzaki finishes his speech with, ‘They’ve done studies, you know.’ He’s still looking at Matsuda rather than you and you’re done. You’re done. You grab your coat, planning on leaving and never coming back.
‘Well then by that logic we should all be having sex with each other!’ Matsuda exclaims as you stalk out the room. As you brush past the Chief he opens his mouth to say something, but gets distracted at the last moment by Matsuda’s comment, instead choosing to admonish him for his poor choice of argument.
‘Well, given the fact you all are self-proclaimed hetero-sexuals I don’t see how that would be beneficial to any of us.’ Ryuzaki says.
You’re at the door when you hear him say, ‘It seems I’ve upset them.’ Yeah. No shit. You hear your coworkers say something to that effect. You hope beyond hell that he doesn’t feel the need to follow you out of the room and try fix things. You've been embarrassed enough for one lifetime, but then again Ryuzaki has never been the type to try fix what he doesn’t think is a problem. You’re surprised he even noticed you were upset even though you were near tears in front of him. Well, maybe that’s a bit harsh. He definitely knew you were upset. That’s why he couldn’t look you in the face you bet, because he was uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable enough to stop talking unfortunately.
Your house is located within a fifteen minute ride to the current hotel functioning as headquarters, but it is still an excruciating fifteen minutes of trying not to sniffle into your jacket on a subway train full of strangers. It’s actually the first time you’ve taken the subway since Ryuzaki started playing the CCTV tapes of all the FBI agents on repeat after observing that both the Yagami and Kitamura household weren’t suspicious. So recently you’ve been prefering to take a taxi or walk.
You’d only been a police officer for about a year before Kira had appeared, you weren’t even assigned to the Kira case before people started resigning. But your strong sense of justice and inability to walk away from those in trouble had meant you’d not taken ‘no’ for an answer when you overheard Superintendent Yagami and the others talking outside the NPA building late at night. They were discussing whether or not to trust L. Well, it was more like you hadn’t taken no for an answer after you’d followed them back into the building and ambushed them in their meeting with L himself. Or, Watari himself and L through the computer.
After being chastised by Superintendent Yagami for eavesdropping, and then watching in shock and hilarity as L in turn chastised him for not being discreet enough. He’d asked if anyone else might have overheard the conversation, and you’d replied that you were one of very few left in the building this late. That you’d gone out for some air just before the group had arrived and you were certain you were the only one around, and that maybe you’d only overheard them because you’d been deliberately eavesdropping after hearing the name L. They told you no.
You’d then taken the opportunity to make the argument that Matsuda hadn’t been a police officer for very long either. And that Kira was a bully. And you couldn’t stand bullies. So if they wouldn’t let you help with the official investigation, then you would run an un-official investigation. And track Kira down in your own time, or die trying.
The room was dead silent after your proclamation until you heard a tinny, bitten off laugh coming from the computer Watari was holding. Apparently, L found you amusing. L had then stated, ‘they sound as determined as any of you. Experience, while vitally important in all cases, is only secondary in this one to a willingness to put your very life on the line to catch Kira. We are dealing with a criminal who can likely kill without being in contact with their victim, and we have no idea as to how they do it. We need all the help we can get.’ That had settled it. And from that night on you were a member of team ‘let’s kill Kira!’ Not that any of them knew you called it that.
When you finally make it home you run upstairs, collapse on your bed and muffle a pent-up scream into your pillow. God that was so humiliating. Not to mention unprofessional. There’s no way in hell they let you back in after a display like that. You know Ryuzaki was going to figure out you have a crush on him sooner rather than later, but you never expected him to announce it to the whole room- hell, you never expected him to even acknowledge it! You’d thought before that maybe he already knew and was ignoring it but this is classic Ryuzaki. Forever surprising you with astute observations and a complete lack of social awareness. You know he can’t help it, so you never get mad at him for it. That is, until, you know, he humiliated you in a room full of people you respect and work with.
You huff out another scream and kick your feet into the bedding below you, before grumpily rolling over and curling into a ball. You’ve never been so embarrassed. You grab your feet with your hands and rock slightly before turning your face into the pillow again. Gods you wish it would suffocate you. You wriggle and grab at your duvet until you can pull it over your head. It dims bright light above you and makes you feel a little better enclosed in it. You feel tears prick at your eyes again so you hunker down and cry until you pass out from exhaustion.
You don’t return to work for five days. You know it’s unprofessional, and that maybe you’ll get fired but you’re too embarrassed. Choosing instead to sulk under your blankets, eat ice cream, and watch mindless daytime television in hopes that if you don’t think about it the whole entire thing will go away. Anger bubbles through you as the memory resurfaces and you scream, frustration ripping through your jaw and into the covers you have balled up around your mouth.
Your phone rings, and you know it’s work because of the ringtone. You can’t bring yourself to answer. It rings twice more before falling silent. You spare a glance to where it’s lying on the ground three feet away, surrounded by the work clothes you’d shucked off and not bothered to put in the wash or even the basket. There’s a moment of silence. You breathe out in relief. It rings again but this time with the jingle set for unknown numbers.
You heave out a sigh and prepare to leave your bed for the first time in the week since you started hiding from the world. You stumble over to pick up the phone and say, ‘what?’ in the most irritated tone you can muster. It’s Matsuda. He shouts in excitement when he hears you and you have to pull the phone away from your ear in order to save your hearing. Matsuda rambles on excitedly for a moment before his tone turns soft but kind of urgently awkward. He says something along the lines of,
‘we- I mean, the boss- I mean, L, No! I-we, URGH.’ He sighs loudly down the phone and then tries again, ‘You need to come back to work. I know you’re embarrassed about… what happened but I promise you that no one will bring it up! And Ryuzaki has an insane plan that you need to hear! We don’t even know if it’ll work or how he figures we’re gonna- listen. Just come back to work. Please. You’re the only one he listens to- No Ryuzaki! I’m not on the phone!-’ Matsuda’s voice suddenly gets ten times quieter and you know he’s holding the receiver behind his back to hide the fact his phone is on and in use rather than off and in a box on the table. You sigh through your nose and tip your head back, silently mouthing, ‘what the fuck,’ to the ceiling before pinching the bridge of your nose and bringing the phone back to your ear.
‘Listen,’ You say loudly, hopefully loud enough Matsuda can hear you over his and Ryuzaki’s squabbling. Not that Ryuzaki squabbles. What he does is more of a monotoned bulldozing of the conversation with all the reasons that you are wrong until he’s finished or you can accurately counter him. Usually you’d have more decorum, and not just drop your coworker in it for breaking the rules but frankly you’re over it. And really you don’t mind if this pisses Ryuzaki off. Serves him right, you rudely think. ‘I know I need to come back, but we’re hitting dead end after dead end and I just- I need some time-’ you start to say. You're cut off by a scuffling noise and you hear Matsuda shout ‘Hey!’ in the background.
‘Bambi.’ Oh no. Oh no no no. Oh fuck no. He is not on the phone to you right now. ‘Our coworkers have informed me that I acted inappropriately and embarrassed you the other day. That was not my intention. I regret hurting you, and I now know that I shouldn’t have brought it up during work hours.’ You shouldn’t have brought it up at all you asshat! ‘I’m very sorry for whatever hurt I may have caused you.’ But. There’s a ‘but’ coming you can just feel it. ‘However,’ Asshole. ‘I think I may have found our next move- no, I am certain of it. Some members of this task force have pointed out its risky nature but I truly believe this will bring us that much closer to catching Kira. Or at the least help rule out who is, and is not a suspect.’
You almost hang up. Almost. You don’t. Instead you say, ‘How in sweet hell does this relate to me, Ryuzaki?’
‘You’re a part of the task force.’ You say nothing. There’s a pause on the line where you hear nothing but your own breathing before Ryuzaki starts up again, ‘The task force needs you here, Bambi. You’re important. Crucial.’ His voice sounds the same, but you recognise the breath before he spoke as time in which he was picking what to say. You almost forgive him. ‘We don’t have enough hands as it is and we cannot afford to make any mistakes at this crucial juncture-’ Oh you are going to kill him. Does he think of nothing else? You take a calming breath in through your nose, hoping to stabilise your voice and emotions before you speak.
‘Ryuzaki I-’ You heave a sigh. Scrub a hand over your face. You’re going to have to face this, face him, at some point. It might as well be now. ‘I’ll be in tomorrow,’ you say. You deserve at least a day to get your shit together.
You hang up on him, turn the volume off and drop the phone back onto your crumpled uniform on the floor. It bounces off the soft material and clatters and against the hardwood. The battery falls out. You dive back into the covers on your bed and resume the show you’d been watching before that rude interruption. You know you said you’d be in tomorrow, but part of you thinks you won’t be ready. How could you be? Ryuzaki can shove his apology up his ass. Never have you been so humiliated and he doesn’t even care.
*
On the other end of the line, Ryuzaki holds the phone away from his ear, staring at it, wondering if you’d managed to hear him before you hung up. No matter. He chucks the phone at Matsuda without looking and calls for Watari to bring the car round. Leaving Matsuda to furiously attempt to phone you in hopes of giving you a warning.
You’re halfway through a new episode when the doorbell rings. Your head pops up, hair wild and mussed, eyes half closed with sleep at the sound. You don’t think you’re expecting anything. With most of your life having been consumed with the Kira case as of late you’ve already exhausted your take-out budget for the week. Evidenced by the several food containers littering your floor. You wince looking at them. You really should take them downstairs at least, lest you get mice. You wait for a second to see if you can ignore the door but then the bell rings with a second, exponentially longer trill.
You huff and get out of bed, drawing your blankets up around your neck and holding them closed tight as you shuffle towards the stairs. If you’re being forced to get up and deal with some super aggressive salesman then you’re at least going to be warm as you shout at him. You’re halfway down the stairs again when the doorbell rings a third time, and this time it doesn’t stop. What fucking asshole is at your door? You don’t know but you’re pissed about it. You watch the door handle jiggle as whoever’s behind it tries to just waltz into your home and you are going to rip them a new one. There’s a niggling excitement under all the rage at the prospect of getting to unleash some of your feelings on an unsuspecting stranger. You wonder if that makes you a bad person.
‘I’m COMING!’ You shout, muttering under your breath about impatient, unapologetic assholes as you stomp over to the door. You have to wrestle with the key in the lock because it won’t cooperate in your worked up state. By the time you finally get it unlocked you’re so mad that you swing it open with far more force than necessary and your hand bangs against the wall. ‘Oww.’ You’re momentarily distracted by the pain, looking at your hand as you cradle it until you hear,
‘Bambi.’ Your head snaps up instantly. Standing at your doorway, in all his unrepentant glory, is Ryuzaki. Watching you with what you assume is his version of concern as you hold your bruised hand to your chest. There’s a ridiculous, expensive looking car waiting in the street behind him. So much for inconspicuous.
‘What?’ You grind out, irritated that he’s caught you unawares yet again. Why is he here? You said you’d be in tomorrow.
‘Are you okay?’ He gestures to your hand.
‘I’m- fine.’ You grit out, turning your face away from him. Ryuzaki reaches out with a hand and you watch, frozen, as he crosses the threshold into your home and brushes a greasy lock of your wild hair back into place. A wave of cold heat rushes over you as you remember your state of dress. The greasy, unwashed hair, the large duvet, the rumpled and stained pajamas from all that eating in bed. You might be mad at the man, but you’ve still got a crush on him and you must look ridiculous.
You’re frozen in place as Ryuzaki slides smoothly past you and into your house like he’s been invited- no, like he owns the place. You turn, almost robotically as you watch him kick off his beat up, bent out of shape trainers and pad barefoot around the place. Familiarising himself with how you live. He stops in your living space/kitchenette as you shut the door and follow him in. Ryuzaki’s still looking around with wide, curious eyes as you say, ‘I told you I was coming in tomorrow. What the ever-living heck are you doing here?!’ Ryuzaki stops looking around at this. His gaze lasers in on you. He pads over, leans in close and visibly sniffs. What the fuck?
‘You need a shower.’ He almost startles a laugh out of you with that. His actions mirror your own a few months ago when he was stinking up the hotel room, zeroed in on some aspect of the case that you were all too distracted by his stench to see- No. You’re mad at him right now. You’re not going to be taken in by this. You choose not to reply. In fact, you can’t reply because the second you open your mouth you’re going to start shouting at the top of your lungs and you usually like to pretend you have more grace and decorum than that.
Ryuzaki scratches at the back of his head, standing there casually with the other hand tucked in his jeans pocket and for the first time since you met him he looks uncomfortable. Or maybe you’re just better at reading him now. You cross your arms and stare him down. He can explain himself or he can get the fuck out. Ryuzaki doesn’t look at you, staring at a spot on the wall as he says, ‘after you left, Matsuda and Chief Yagami explained the… erroneous nature of my actions towards you. I assure you, I did not mean to embarrass, or humiliate you in any way. I was simply excited about my findings.’
Jesus fuck. Of course he wasn’t thinking about how you felt, only himself. You feel your teeth grate at the admission. But, you already knew he wasn’t the best at reading people. And you also know that he wouldn’t apologise if he didn’t mean it. Instead he’d assume you’d get over it on your own time or not come back. You uncross your arms. His eyes flicker between them and your cocked hip before landing on your face. He’s trying to read your body language. Making an active effort. Try as you might, you can’t stay mad at that, at him. You wonder if he knows it. ‘You could have told me this tomorrow, you know.’ You say softly, all the fight rushing out of you.
Ryuzaki’s staring directly at you now, making an uncomfortable amount of eye contact as he says, ‘I also did not like the idea of you being mad at me.’ You stare at him. Everytime you think you’re getting over it, getting over him, Ryuzaki pulls something like this out of his ass. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was doing it on purpose, but you know he doesn’t think like that.
‘So you did this?’ You gesture between himself and the door.
‘...I came to your house to make a heartfelt apology? Yes.’ If it was anyone else you’d think he was being passive aggressive, but it’s not, it’s him. If he was angry he’d just tell you. He really means it. He doesn’t seem to see anything weird with how he’s behaved.
‘Ryuzaki, you turned up without warning, rang my doorbell aggressively and then tried to enter the house when I didn’t answer as fast as you liked.’
When he doesn’t say anything you throw your hands up in frustration and start to walk away. May as well take that shower now, since apparently you smell bad. At this point you don’t care whether he stays or goes.
‘I was worried.’ He says. You freeze on the stairs. He was worried? ‘That you wouldn’t come back to the taskforce. And I did, in fact, warn you. You hung up on me.’ You forget how childish he can be sometimes. But, you did hang up on him. He’s got you there.
You scoff at him either way, ‘I’m quite literally the least experienced officer there, and you’re L. No way in hell you guys need me that much.’
‘We're fighting an unknown serial killer, with an unknown, godlike method of killing their victims and our team is but a handful of people. I know that I upset you, but we do not have time for this bout of self pity or selfishness, whichever it may be. We need you. Your work and your time and your devotion to this case are invaluable. The same way Matsuda’s, Aizawa’s, Ukita’s, Mogi’s, and Chief Yagami’s work on this case is invaluable. I don’t know where you got this idea that your help is lessor because you have less experience than them but it is quite simply wrong.’ He scratches one foot against the other. ‘Or did you not mean it when you told me you were willing to die to catch Kira? Or, more like that you would die if we didn’t let you on the investigation team. That is who we need in this fight against Kira. And if that is not you, then you’re right, and you should just stay home.’
Ryuzaki moves across the room towards you while talking, and you think he’s going to walk right past where you’re standing on the stairs and out the door but he stops just before you, waiting for your response. You kind of want to cry, partially because what he said feels mean, but more so because you know it only feels that way because he’s right. You are being a big baby, putting your personal feelings above solving the case.
The fight is bigger than this, about more than you. And you’ve been putting your feelings above not only the lives of countless others but above the very concept of community driven justice and anti-authoritarianism itself. Above everything you claim to stand for. Above your coworkers too. Shit.
You look at Ryuzaki, waiting patiently a few steps below you with an entirely blank expression, like he couldn't care less which way you went. You breathe out heavily through your nose, make eye contact through your tearing eyes and nod determinedly. Ryuzaki nods back once, then looks away from you. You turn to go upstairs and shower. Once you’re out of sight you lift an arm and sniff. Oh Gods. You do need a shower. You hear a sharp but quickly stifled, ‘ha.’ from below you and your ears burn as you realise you must not be as out of sight as you think.
You shower as quickly and efficiently as possible for not having washed in a near week. No doubt Ryuzaki is sitting oddly somewhere in your very messy house at this point in time. You shudder to think of the observations he might be making about you based on his surroundings. The shower still takes you a minute though. You leave the bathroom in nothing but a towel and nearly drop it when you scream and jump; Ryuzaki is sitting directly across the hallway from you, crouched low in a squat, seemingly zoned out with his thumb between his teeth. He looks up at you and says, ‘you have a nice singing voice.’ Your face flushes with even more colour as you clutch your towel tighter to you. You nod weakly and turn sharply to go into your bedroom when Ryuzaki calls out, ‘Bambi?’
‘Yes?’ You brace yourself.
‘I’ve been thinking about our conversation from before and I wanted to inform you that I think you might be my first friend.’ That is… not what you expected him to say. His first friend? No wonder he’s so… awkward. Just how isolated has being ‘L’ made him? Your heart breaks a little for the man. Ryuzaki continues, ‘So I truly do want to impress upon you the depth of my regret that I embarrassed you before. Also Watari is in there.’
‘I-, you-, what?’ You’re so stunned you can’t get a word out.
‘You are my first ever friend, I am sorry, and Watari is in there.’ In there? As in, in your bedroom? When you do nothing but stare at him, Ryuzaki elaborates, ‘I was worried you would want to clean up to some degree, given your proclivities for chastising myself over the state of my personal living quarters, but I also didn’t want to infringe on your privacy since I apparently overstepped before, so I called him up to help.’ Ryuzaki’s looking at you with that innocent puppy dog smile again, like he’s so proud of himself. What in the world? How could he think that this is appropriate?- then it clicks: oh. This is revenge. For throwing him in the shower that one time. Just how long does this man hold his grudges for? He couldn’t do the same to you, so instead he’s bided his time until he could catch you on a similarly embarrassing transgression. Maybe he’s had no friends for a reason. You frown and then shake your wet hair as aggressively as you can, showering Ryuzaki in a cloud of very fine droplets of water. Two can play the revenge game, you smirk to yourself.
‘Oops.’ You say, with a closed smile before waltzing into your bedroom. Watari is, in fact, not in there. The room hasn’t been touched. When you stick your head back out into the hallway Ryuzaki is rubbing water off himself with the long sleeves of his shirt tucked over his hands. He waves cheerily when he sees you. So the whole thing was a joke then? Asshole. You think, not sure whether you’re more relieved, amused, or annoyed by this. Shaking the thought from your mind, you quickly change into acceptable work clothes and then gather all take out containers you can find. You can pick up the clothes later but if you know if you leave these sitting here it’ll gnaw at you all day.
Ryuzaki is gone from the hallway when you exit your room. You’re relieved he won’t see you with all this mess, that is, until you get downstairs and see him picking up singular items between his forefinger and thumb and moving them around in your kitchen. You think he might be… tidying? If you could call it that with the awkward way he’s holding things and the time it’s taking for him to decide where they go and then putting them there. Is this the first time he’s ever cleaned? …It’s kind of endearing… in an entitled-rich-asshole-who’s-never-had-to-look-after-himself kind of way. You stuff the rubbish you’re holding into the bin with as little fanfare as possible and clear your throat. ‘Ryuzaki?’ you say. He looks at you, dirty knife dangling, pinched between his two fingers and you gesture with your head towards the door. ‘Shall we go?’ He quickly looks you up and down before nodding once, dropping the knife into the sink as he passes and heading out the door.
*
The first thing you do when you arrive at the new hotel that’s being used for headquarters is apologise profusely for your absence. You’re brushed off in a way that feels practised and you can’t help but feel relieved. Your coworkers take the time to fill you in on the new plan as Ryuzaki crouches on the couch and stacks little coffee creamer pods on top of each other.
In two weeks, once the school term has started again, members of the task force including L himself are going to approach the people currently under the most suspicion and introduce themselves as L. The hope is to either eliminate them as plausible suspects entirely, or, in the unlikely case that one of them is Kira, to checkmate them out of being able to kill Ryuzaki or any other of the task force members.
You think this is the stupidest plan to ever exist, but you have no other. You’ve all spent the last three months pouring over facts and data and CCTV, then rechecking those facts and data and CCTV. Spitballing ideas and plans constantly and somehow the only concrete lead you’ve found is still investigating the families that Raye Penber was assigned to following. Every single dead end leads right back to it.
You understand the logic behind the idea. That if any of these people are Kira, then they won’t be able to kill the supposed ‘L’ without revealing themselves to the rest of you depending on which task force member dies. And you know that everyone will be using fake names and aliases, so if the theory about Kira needing both a name and a face to kill is true then you should all be reasonably safe while investigating them. The thing is, you’re less worried about Kira being one of them, and more worried about him not being one of them. That multiple members of the task force will be exposing themselves and their proximity to L, to Ryuzaki, for no reason. This is still an incredibly risky gamble, no matter how you slice it, but you also know it’s also the only gamble you’ve got.
After you bring this up, Ryuzaki remarks that every person involved in this plan would be able to recognise you all as police officers anyway, as they are members of someone in the police force’s family, so the need for absolute discretion is moot. And then he tells you that he already set this plan in motion a month and a half ago when he applied to To-Do university and made contact with Chief Yagami’s son, Light Yagami.
‘You didn’t tell me this.’ You say.
‘I wasn’t aware that I had to.’ The tower knocks over. Ryuzaki looks up for the first time since this conversation started. He leans forwards as he puts his thumb up to his mouth, rubbing his upper lip with it he says, ‘You’ve been unreachable for nearly five days, Bambi. Of course you’ve missed things.’ Okay, ow. That stings. You grit your teeth and look away. The room is awkwardly silent. Everyone is looking away from you two, pretending the curtains and ceiling are suddenly the most interesting things they’ve seen in their lives.
Sensing you’re going to get no help from the others, you look back at Ryuzaki and you say, ‘You made this decision over a month ago, probably longer than that with how smart you are and this is the first we’ve- the first I’ve heard about it. I know I’ve been… absent these past few days, but it won’t happen again. You can’t make decisions unilaterally. If you’d told us this before at least we would have had more time to prepare! Cover all angles! Make sure that you’re- that we’re as safe as we can be.’ Your chest is heaving by the time you finish talking.
‘Ryuzaki, perhaps we don’t punish them so harshly for this considering you are the reason they didn’t want to come to work in the first place.’ You’re thankful for the Chief’s interjection, even if it mentions the one thing you don’t want to think about right now.
Ryuzaki looks between you and the Chief, leaning in from where he’s crouched on the couch. Then he looks away and starts stacking the creamer again, ‘I didn’t inform you all of my plans before now as I was afraid that some of you would be against it.’
‘After I put cameras in my own home, Ryuzaki?’ Chief Yagami is angry now.
Ryuzaki pauses his stacking for a second, ‘You’re right. You’ve all proven beyond doubt your dedication to this case, and are not as resistant to my ideas as I expected. If we are going to continue to work together we’re going to have to trust each other fully. I’m sorry I didn’t disclose this right away. I won’t keep anything from any of you in the future.’
The room falls quiet and you sink into the seat across from Ryuzaki. He starts making a second tower out of sugar cubes. No one says anything for what feels like an incredibly long time.
You swallow and break the silence, ‘You promise you’ve thought this through?’ Ryuzaki nods shortly, not looking away from his tower; it’s leaning to one side slightly and he’s trying to readjust it.
‘It’s a net gain. Look at it this way; either we won’t meet Kira, and he won’t kill us, or, we will meet Kira, he won’t kill us and we’ll be that much closer to catching him.’
‘You really think you’ll be able to tell if someone is Kira just by telling them you’re L?’
‘That’s really just the conversation opener. I plan to interrogate Light to the best of my abilities under the guise of letting him join the task force. Although it’s not much of a guise if I intend to follow through on it. Or maybe I’ll just tell him I think he might be Kira, I’m not certain yet. It depends on how he reacts.’
‘So you do think my son is a suspect?’ Chief Yagami sounds more tired than angry.
‘I’ve been very clear about this from the start. There is a probability of one percent that your son is Kira. However, even a suspicion of one percent is worth-’
‘-Worth investigating in this case. Yes I agree. Very well then.’ The chief leans back in his seat and closes his eyes. You wonder when the last time he got some proper sleep was.
‘I truly do think we will gain invaluable information from this operation. Best case scenario, if your son is as impressive as I’ve been led to believe, we gain an effective ally against Kira. Worst case scenario, Kira joins the investigation team and cannot kill any of us without revealing himself to the others. No, actually, the worst case scenario is your son Light Yagami is not Kira but also elects not to help us with the case for any number of reasons.’
‘But what if Light is Kira and he just kills all of us?’ Matsuda sounds tense as he brings up the possibility. The chief doesn’t even flinch.
‘That’s why Watari will be working from a separate, secret location once Light joins the team, and he shall also be known only as another ‘L’, working separately from myself and the taskforce in complete anonymity.’
‘Oh because Light doesn’t know that L is only one person! That’s brilliant!’
‘Thank you.’ Ryuzaki nudges the top cube of sugar into better alignment with the rest of them, ‘Besides, as far as anyone at the university is aware my name is Hideki Ryuuga.’
‘…Hideki Ryuuga… like the singer?’
‘Yes. So even if Light is Kira and lets say he does try to kill me, A.K.A Hideki Ryuuga, we know Kira needs at least a face to kill, so chances are that he thinks of pop idol Hideki Ryuuga and kills him instead.’ Ryuzaki does not look at all bothered about what he just said. You have no idea if he’s joking or not.
You snort out a laugh. ‘You’re holding Hideki Ryuuga hostage?’
Ryuzaki looks up at you, puppy smile in place as he says, ‘Smart, isn’t it? There’ll be national outrage if Kira kills beloved pop idol Hideki Ryuuga, shifting public perception of them to resoundingly negative, ensuring any trial does not go in their favour, and we’ll know for certain who they are.’ His toes are wiggling in excitement as he says this. Wow. He is really proud of this plan isn’t he? It’s… cute. And you have to swallow your heart that’s suddenly in your throat before it shows on your face.
It’s so ridiculous you kind of want to laugh, but he’s right. As always. This is the best move in terms of spurring along the investigation; you’ve all been hitting dead end after dead end after dead end for months now, and this is a way forward. Worst case scenario you know for certain you’ve been looking in the wrong place all this time and can start over. Hopefully. Even though that sounds exhausting.. You laugh weakly. ‘Okay, well I’ll stay at the police HQ and man the phones while we do this in case anything goes wrong, since I’m the least prepared after having been off for a week.’ Ryuzaki nods like this was what he expected anyway.
*
The news of chief Yagami’s heart attack rattles the group; in the days after Matsuda is dropping papers constantly and Aizawa and Ukita are on a hair’s fuse. You think Ryuzaki must be shaken too, since he visited the man in the hospital but he doesn’t show it; the first thing Ryuzaki did when he got back from his meeting with Light was have your coworkers give him a detailed play by play of their investigations and findings. After concluding that none of the suspects were suspicious, Ryuzaki explained that Light would likely be joining the investigation team after his father recovered. He’d gone over the conversation with you all, explaining the traps he’d laid for Light and how he had effortlessly sidestepped them, as if he had known they were coming, or had thought about how he would reply to such questions long before they were ever asked.
Matsuda and Aizawa seemed on the fence about believing him, saying that Light was a very bright kid and that it wasn’t that weird he didn’t fall for whatever traps were laid. Ukita got straight up mad that Ryuzaki was still ‘harping on’ about this, claiming he had no solid proof. Ryuzaki reminded them that his suspicion was only at five percent or so.
You think Ryuzaki is right. Light sounds too perfect. Again. You’d had to take Ryuzaki’s word on this when he and Chief Yagami had been reviewing the surveillance tapes, having only gotten second hand information on what had happened in them, but after hearing about their conversation in detail you think that Light seems a little too prepared, that or he is a genius rivalling Ryuzaki himself. Which is such an abstract idea you’re not sure you could ever be entirely convinced of it. Sure you’ve heard the Chief talking about what a smart boy his kid was but didn’t all parents wax lyric about their child's talents?
You’re making your third (and Ryuzaki’s seventh) cup of tea when the news hits. Two cups and a stack of sugar cubes are balanced precariously on a tray in your hands when Watari comes pacing into the room and tells you all to turn to Sakura T.V. right away. The discussion about Naomi Misora immediately dries up at the sense of urgency in his voice. Sakura T.V. is known to air ridiculous, made up specials about the Kira case. They’re experts at fear mongering and stirring up excess panic within the general public against the express wishes of the Japanese police. Usually you all ignore it. You wonder what the hell they could be airing to grab Watari’s attention like this.
Watari grabs the remote and the telly flickers to life. A presenter appears on the screen and explains that the station and its staff are being held hostage by Kira himself and that they’re being forced to relay a message from him. No way in hell this is real. The presenter goes on to explain how they received several tapes in the mail- of which the first accurately predicted the time of death for two criminals, and how they have been instructed to play the second tape at five fifty-nine P.M. You glance at the clock. It’s currently five fifty-nine.
You can’t believe it. It seems your coworkers can’t quite believe it either: Ukita expresses this by saying, ‘’This has got to be another one of their fake stories, right?’
Matsuda replies, ‘No way… Not even Sakura would go this far.’ You can’t help but agree with him. The tapes must be real, or at the very least Sakura T.V must believe they are. Ryuzaki doesn’t say anything, too busy focusing on the television he’s perched in front of.
The video starts and the first thing you notice is how… unprofessional it looks. Maybe this actually is a hoax, you think, one they didn’t put much effort into, evidently. But then it can’t be a hoax run by Sakura themselves, because surely they could have at least typed the word ‘Kira’, considering they’ll have an entire department for graphics because they’re a television network. So a hoax, but not by them? Your entire world has zoomed into the television set. There’s a clatter and some far off part of you notes something warm starting to seep into your socks but you brush it off. If there’s even the slightest chance this isn’t a hoax then it’s far more important.
A voice on the tape starts talking, altered to hide the identity of the speaker. It predicts the death of Kazuhiko Himiba from Taiyo T.V at six P.M. Ryuzaki shouts for Watari to change the channel and Watari does. It switches just in time for you all to see Mr. Himiba collapsed on the news desk in front of him. Ryuzaki shouts for it to be changed back to Sakura T.V. and in the same breath requests Watari retrieve two more television sets. Watari broadly side steps you as he leaves the room and as he does you realise you’ve spilt both the cups of tea on the white-cream carpet below you. And that the liquid has been slowly seeping into your socks. Your feet are soaked.
You swear silently and side step out of the mess, shaking your feet as you do. Little tea coloured droplets fly off your feet and spatter the carpet below but you don’t even notice them. You quickly realise it’s a lost cause to try salvage your socks and slip them both off, leaving them in the wet pile on the floor as you walk barefoot towards the others, eyes trained on the television set the whole time. You stop just behind the armchair Ryuzaki is crouching on.
Either this ‘Kira’ is incredibly lucky and good at guessing… or they are really ‘Kira’, a ‘Kira’, because this tape screams ‘FAKE’ at you in big, bold letters and while the evidence may be real you don’t think that the ‘Kira’ is. This is a new ‘Kira’. A less skilled and experienced ‘Kira’. Shit. It can’t be the same one. It can’t be. You refuse to believe the original Kira would stand for this sloppy craftsmanship given the profile Ryuzaki has laid out, neither can you believe he would punish newscasters for speaking out against him- at least, not yet… You’re sure that is, in fact, in his plan somewhere down the line. All authoritarian dictators have an ego built like a brick house, that is a damn near fact.
This new ‘Kira’ informs of another scheduled death, more ‘proof’ as they put it. Ryuzaki demands the channel be changed again, and true to form the newscaster on Channel 24 has also suffered a sudden heart attack. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. Who would be so… brazen?
Ryuzaki breaks the silence, ‘They said they would be sending a message to people all over the world…’ His eyes widen as he takes in the implications of such a message reaching the masses. ‘We have to make them stop this broadcast or something terrible is going to happen!’
Matsuda lunges for the landline, ‘I’ll get Sakura T.V.’s phone number!’ He shouts. He starts trying several different phone numbers but all lines are busy.
Aizawa tries to phone someone on his mobile and then says, ‘My friend who works there has his cell phone turned off!’
‘Dammit! Then I’m going over to make them stop it myself!’ Ukita runs out the door at full speed. You can hear Matsuda dialling numbers into the landline as Aizawa curses quietly at his own phone, no doubt trying his friend’s number again.
You say, ‘Ryuzaki…’ Eyes trained wide on the television set in front of you, your voice sounds foreign to your ears, like it’s coming from someone else. Ryuzaki’s facing Sakura T.V. and Kira’s message is still playing. He waves you off over his shoulder but this is important. You reach out with a shaking hand and fumble a touch on his shoulder, ‘Ryuzaki…’ Your voice is hardly above a hoarse whisper but Ryuzaki must hear something urgent in it as he turns to look at your face. You can’t rip your eyes away from the television, you just stare at it, frozen.
You sit shakily on the arm of his chair as you mumble out, ‘That’s not Kira… I mean-, that is Kira, a Kira, but it’s not the Kira. Kira-Kira. It’s a different Kira. Do you- do you get what I’m saying?’ You can barely manage to keep the tremor out of your voice. You finally manage to tear your gaze away from the television and look at him. Ryuzaki’s got this solemn, urgent look on his face; eyes wide and focused on you, face tilted down, thumb tucked, worried, between his teeth, and you realise he knows. Of course he knows. He’s L. You forget sometimes that under all his quirky genius is, well, genius.
‘You can’t tell them.’ His voice is a hushed whisper as he nods with his head to behind him. ‘Not until we have a better handle on this. It will only cause them to panic more than they already are.’ You feel your jaw tighten as you nod at him sharply, settling in to sit more properly on the arm of the chair. Ryuzaki reaches up and pats your hand with his own, once, twice and you realise you’re still touching him, one hand braced tightly on his shoulder. You go to take it back but Ryuzaki’s grip tightens ever so slightly over your own when you shift so you leave it where it is and turn your attention back to the T.V.
The ‘Kira’ on the television starts monologuing typical Kira stuff and you only catch parts of it, vision zoomed out. Vaguely you note that you should pay better attention, but it makes you sick listening to it. ‘Kira’ prattles on about how they ‘hate evil’ and are working to create a ‘just society’. They sound like a cult leader, promising peace and security to all that blindly follow with one hand, and promising divine retribution in the form of violence for all those that speak out against them with the other. It’s authoritarian and vile.
‘Kira’ is bumbling on about the new world they intend to create, parroting the assumed ideology of the original Kira when the smaller monitor that Watari wheeled in, attuned to another news channel, switches to an emergency broadcast of the front of Sakura T.V’s offices. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch none other than Ukita accost the doors to the building, draw his gun, and then drop it before collapsing while fumbling with his belt-alarm.
‘Ukita!’ Aizawa rushes in front of you and grabs the small monitor in his hands, like he wants to reach through the screen itself and pull Ukita back to safety. There’s a lump in your throat.
‘Oh my… God! They got him?!’ Aizawa turns and starts to run out of the room.
‘Forget it, Aizawa. Where do you think you are going?’ Ryuzaki’s voice is subdued. It’s the same monotone as normal but it comes out several times quieter than it normally is. If the room wasn’t so dead silent no one would have heard it, but as silent as it is it rings loud in the empty space. Ryuzaki twists round in his seat to say this, so you’re getting up as to not get in the way when Aizawa stops in his tracks.
Aizawa’s shoulders are up around his ears, and you can hear the barely restrained anger in his voice when he says, ‘To Ukita, where else? And I’m going to get those damn videos and bring them back here.’
‘If you go over there now, you’ll only get killed.’ Aizawa turns to look at Ryuzaki. He looks… betrayed. You wince… but it is the truth. He’ll die. This new ‘Kira’ will kill him without a second glance… just like they did Ukita.
‘You trying to tell me to sit here and watch television, Ryuzaki?!’ Aizawa thunders.
‘I’m trying to tell you to calm down and be realistic.’ Ryuzaki’s voice is louder now, but his back is turned to Aizawa and while he’s looking in the right direction, his face is angled down. You realise with a start that Ryuzaki’s deliberately shielding his eyes, hiding the most expressive part of his face from him. You frown and worry your bottom lip between your teeth.
‘I want to stop that video as much as you do. And if we manage to confiscate the entire package the way it was sent, there’s a good chance we can track Kira down.’ Ryuzaki turns back to watch the television as paramedics transport Ukita’s body away from the scene. ‘But if Ukita was murdered by Kira, whoever goes there now will end up dead too.
‘This means his phoney police ID didn’t help him!! Kira knows our real names! He has to! There’s no other explanation.’ Aizawa is gesturing wildly as he speaks. He needs to calm down but there’s no way to tell him that without upsetting him further. You yourself feel equally upset, with no idea how to make any of this better. Ukita…
‘That might be true. But if you’re right, it would make much more sense for Kira to murder everyone on the task force…’ Ryuzaki’s keyed in, eyes trained on the televisions in front of him in case anything new happens. ‘I deduced that Kira needs to know someone’s name and face to kill them. But from seeing this, I’d have to conclude that seeing their face alone could be enough. All I can say for sure at this time is…’ He pauses, ‘…Ukita was killed because he went over there. It happened just as other networks started reporting from in front of Sakura T.V. And that means Kira is either inside Sakura, or some place where he can see people entering Sakura. That, or he set up a surveillance camera there in advance.’
You look between Matsuda and Aizawa helplessly, as you’re facing the room and not the T.V. you can see the strain on both their faces. Matsuda looks helpless, but Aizawa looks like he can’t believe it, or that he won’t. He shouts, ‘Well, if Kira’s around there right now, that’s all the more reason for us to go!!’
Ryuzaki’s head dips again, hands wrapped tightly around his legs, two fingers wiggling one of his toes back and forth in a staccato rhythm. He’s doing it so aggressively it looks like it hurts. ‘I’ll say it again- if you go there now, you will be killed. Please understand.’
‘No. I don’t understand.’ There’s a tight fury to Aizawa’s words. He grabs Ryuzaki by the collar of his shirt roughly. You flinch, and your hands try and come up to stop him but your feet won’t move. You’re frozen in place. Aizawa’s shouting now, ‘Ukita might’ve been murdered!! By Kira!! I thought we were risking our lives to arrest that bastard!!’ You want to cry. Aizawa doesn’t seem to understand that if you all go now, that everything will be lost. And Kira will win. Then Ukita will have died for nothing.
Ryuzaki clutches his legs tighter to him, he ducks his head even further as he says, ‘Risking your life and doing something that could easily rob you of your life are exact opposites.’ He sounds exactly the same as normal, except his hands are shaking, overcome by tremors as he clings to his legs like a lifeline. ‘I understand your feelings, but please try to control yourself right now. Ukita is dead… If you go over there and lose your life too, Aizawa…’ Ryuzaki doesn’t continue. Maybe he can’t. You can tell by the look on Aizawa’s face that he finally understands. That Ryuzaki isn’t being callous or unfeeling. He’s feeling exactly the same despair as Aizawa is right now, it's just an impossible situation, and Ryuzaki is attempting to save as many lives as possible. Aizawa lets go of him.
You restrain yourself from giving Aizawa a dirty look as you walk over to where Ryuzaki is sitting again. You know Aizawa’s upset, but you’re so angry at how he accosted Ryuzaki. You want to rush over and fuss over Ryuzaki to make sure he’s okay but you know now is not the time, and that you might agitate Ryuzaki even further by doing so. You don’t even know if he wants to be touched right now so you ask quietly, ‘Can I sit here?’, gesturing to the arm of the chair again. Ryuzaki nods minutely and you reperch yourself on the edge of the chair. You’re more leaning against it than sitting but you’re just glad to be close to him at all. Ryuzaki’s gaze is focused on the T.V. again, but you feel him pat your wrist clumsily before withdrawing his hand. You breathe in deeply to recentre yourself for whatever comes next.
It’s silent for what feels like forever but you know rationally must only be a few minutes. The only sound in the room is ‘Kira’ finishing up their manifesto and starting to talk about police cooperation. They say that Sakura T.V. has two more tapes. One to air in the event the police cooperate and the other to air in the event they don’t. ‘Kira’ states that the appropriate tape is to be aired at six-ten P.M. on April 22nd, directly after the police publically report their official response.
The next sound is so loud it comes out the tiny monitor's little speakers as a tinny screech and then a loud PFFT before the sound cuts out entirely. It hurts your ears and you squeak a little in fright. Ryuzaki tucks an arm around your midriff and leans into you, his face smushing against your hip and the hand that’s playing with his mouth bumping against the top of your thigh. He doesn’t stop looking at the television. You brush a hand over his hair and drop it onto his shoulder, so Ryuzaki knows the touch isn’t unwelcome. He squeezes you minutely in response. You know this is his attempt to comfort you amidst all the chaos and your face flushes for it, but there’s no time to be shy right now so you push the feeling down to investigate later. An armoured truck has crashed through the glass front of Sakura T.V. 's offices. What the fuck.
Kira’s video keeps playing throughout the interruption, which makes sense as it’s pre-recorded, but it is still jarring to hear nonsense such as: ‘If it is an official police announcement, no spokesperson has to appear on screen.’ while watching the front of Sakura T.V.’s building crumple like a house of cards as an official police vehicle bombards through it.
‘What the hell!’ Aizawa and Matsuda exclaim.
‘Well… That’s certainly one way of entering without anyone seeing your face.’ You snort in response; Ryuzaki’s dry wit during the most inappropriate moments never fails to startle a laugh out of you. ‘But if Kira got Ukita, there’s a good chance he’s inside. If he’s anywhere inside the lobby, this could be really risky…’
‘But who the hell is it? Someone on our side?’ Matsuda questions.
‘Well, it is a police vehicle.’ Aizawa answers him.
You all watch silently as a suited man wearing his jacket over his head and covering his face drops out of the truck. The video isn’t super clear, being shot from so far away, but the man appears to speak to a security guard inside and then runs off-screen. All you can do now is wait. Your hand drops from your mouth and you place it over Ryuzaki’s, gripping it tight in fear. There’s spit on your index finger from where you’d been worrying your nail with your teeth. You didn’t think to wipe it on your trousers before touching Ryuzaki but he links his fingers through yours either way. At some point during this, someone puts on subtitles for the monitor showing the outside of Sakura T.V.
Another police car drives up to the front of Sakura T.V.’s building. Matsuda says, ‘We aren’t alone in this… There are other cops who’re ready to stand up and fight against Kira…’ It sounds redundant to say considering what you’re viewing on-screen, however after the mass resignation of most of the officer’s on the Kira case at the start of the year, it truly had felt like your tiny team were the only people in the world actively opposing Kira. It warms your heart to see you are not fighting alone.
‘Yes, so it seems.’ Ryuzaki’s voice comes out slightly muffled from where he’s pressed to your side. His head lifts for a second as he readjusts and then leans back in, ‘When you think about it, the people who are in the task force are just one small section of the Japanese police.’ Ryuzaki’s head turns towards the other slightly, ‘Aizawa, you know Deputy Chief Kitamura’s cell phone number, don’t you?’
‘Uh, yeah.’
‘Call him. If he picks up, please hand the phone over to me.’ Ryuzaki turns his head back and looks up at you, ‘I’m going to need my hands back for this, Bambi.’ You let go of where you're holding him, and he retracts the arm that’s around you but puts both of them on top of your legs instead, using you as a makeshift table. He takes the phone off of Aizawa when it’s proffered.
‘This is L.’ Ryuzaki says into the receiver.
Logically, you know that Ryuzaki is L. You’ve even thought about ‘L’ in reference to Ryuzaki before but it’s still weird to hear it aloud. Maybe because you weren’t in the room during the meetings where he was still using the alias, maybe because ‘L’ still seems larger than life to you. ‘I have a request. There will be more officers driven to act on their own after seeing this broadcast. Unless strictly coordinated action is taken, we’ll have a major tragedy on our hands.’
Like his words are magic, or perhaps a premonition, the officer’s in the police car exit it and immediately collapse, presumably dead. The reporter on scene informs the audience that they will be moving to a safer location, but leaving the camera behind as to continue the broadcast. You listen intently as Ryuzaki-no, as L dictates his plan to Deputy Chief Kitamura over the phone. You’re hoping to help fill any gaps he misses in his reasoning but there are none. L rattles off instruction after instruction, covering all bases and possible weak points Kira could exploit before you even think of them while drumming the fingers of his other hand upon your knee. Just as L’s saying, ‘Yes… That’s right, they should never show their faces.’ Watari’s phone beeps, alerting you all to an incoming call. You keep your eyes trained on the television, you’re determined to help in some way so you’ve decided to focus on being alert to witness if anything changes.
‘It’s Chief Yagami.’ Watari says.
Matsuda shouts, ‘What? The boss?!’
L holds his hand out for the phone wordlessly before saying, ‘Yes, thank you Deputy Chief Kitamura. No, wait, please stay on the line.’, into the other phone. Watari is already dialling Chief Yagami back on a different phone. He hands the phone to L, who puts it to his other ear. ‘Chief Yagami, it’s me. So it was you in that armoured truck.’ You almost don’t believe it. The man was in the hospital not a half hour ago. You hear L inquire about Chief Yagami’s ‘condition’, which is obviously his recent heart attack, and then ask him to, ‘hold on for a moment’. You pray to any god living that the Chief’s not in need of medical attention.
L informs the Deputy Chief that it was Chief Yagami in the truck, and then tells Yagami to ‘rest there for five minutes’ before heading out. You let out the breath you’d been holding. The Chief isn’t hurt. Now you can only hope your plan- L’s plan works. You all watch with bated breath as several armoured trucks pull up in front of Sakura T.V. 's offices, and then line after line of police officers decked out in full riot gear file out of the trucks and line up in front of the building. With the trucks and the officer’s in place, your view of the ground floor from the news broadcast is completely blacked out and you are filled with a strange mix of anxiety and relief. At least you know it’s effective. Whether it will work on Kira is another question entirely.
You all wait with baited breath. The way the line of sight to Sakura T.V. is blocked is both an incredibly good sign and an excruciating anxiety inducer because you can’t see what is going on. You have to keep reminding yourself that that means Kira probably can't either, so it’s a good thing. The wait feels incredibly long, but eventually the door behind you bursts open and Watari staggers in, supporting the Chief’s body weight on his shoulder.
‘Chief!’
‘Chief, sir…’
The Chief looks bedraggled. Sweaty and slumped as he leans heavily on Watari. Your heart fills with worry for him. He raises his head slightly to look at Ryuzaki, and even that looks like it takes a tremendous amount of effort. He says, ‘I’m sorry for taking things into my own hands like that Ryuzaki… I let my emotions get the better of me…’
‘That’s fine,’ Ryuzaki replies.
‘The video tapes. The envelope they all came in. It’s all in here.’ The Chief is panting and holding a paper bag emblazoned with, ‘Sakura T.V.’. His face doesn’t even flicker as he takes in how close you’re both sitting, he just hands the bag to Ryuzaki over the back of the armchair before turning around to collapse onto a nearby couch with the help of Matsuda, saying, ‘Let me lie down for a while.’
While the Chief may have had no reaction to it, it doesn’t change how rapidly it dawns on you how unprofessional you both must look, but before you can get up Ryuzaki props the bag open on your lap and starts digging though it. You see him mouthing words to himself as he looks through the items, carefully cataloguing them in his mind before extracting them out. He hands the envelope to Aizawa, with a request to send it to forensics.
You can hear Matsuda on the phone in the background while Aizawa tells Ryuzaki that he knows people on the team, and that they should be able to get fingerprints, as well as maybe DNA from the stamps, as well as information about where everything was bought from, possibly including the make and model of the camera the tapes were filmed on. Aizawa also says he’ll be sure to make the team study the tapes without sound, so they don’t hear what’s on them.
Ryuzaki picks up the bag and drums his fingers once against your knee sharply, so you stand up. He stands to his full height on the armchair before clambering down and you’re struck again by just how tall he is, even slouched. He lopes over to the coffee table before putting the items down on it. You help him sort the tapes from the copies and hand the original’s over to Aizawa. Matsuda comes over to tell you both that he’s going to drive the Chief home and then come back. Ryuzaki tells him that it’s better to get a good night's sleep instead and come back tomorrow fresh along with everyone else.
Oh. Somehow, in all of this mess, you’d forgotten about going home. Usually you can’t wait to tuck up into your bed and sleep off the stress of the day, but thinking about it right now your house just seems big and empty, the last place you currently want to be, so you say, ‘Actually… Ryuzaki… I was hoping I could stay? I don’t think I’m going to get any sleep after everything that’s happened, and I started later than everyone else because I stayed late last night so I’m not that tired anyways. I feel fine.’ Doubt clouds your mind for a second that maybe Ryuzaki wants you all gone so you add. ‘Um, if you want to study what’s on those tapes yourself first I can put on some headphones and just work on acquainting myself with anything else I missed last week.’
Ryuzaki is studying one of the physical copies of the tapes on the table. He doesn’t pause in turning it over in his hands as he says, ‘you can stay.’ You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.
Aizawa ducks out first, then Matsuda and the Chief make their exit together. You shout out for the Chief to get home safe and get some rest before walking back into the room. You walk over to where Ryuzaki is perched on the couch facing the table. He’s lined up all the tapes in a row, and behind you you can hear Watari setting up the VCR. Ryuzaki looks at you and then over at Watari and says, ‘We should move the couch.’
It’s not at all what you’re expecting to hear so you say, ‘What?’ Ryuzaki repeats himself like you didn’t hear him.
‘No, I get it, I heard you I just- why?’
Ryuzaki looks at you and then looks over to the television set. ‘So we don’t have to try and sit on the same tiny armchair. Why aren’t you wearing socks?’ Ryuzaki’s looking at your bare feet now.
Your face colours. ‘Yes, right. Of course. So we don’t have to share a chair. Okay.’ You’re nodding like it should have been obvious to you. Like you weren’t fully thinking about sitting nearly on him again. No, there would be a respectable distance left between you both now that there is no on-going crisis that you aren’t coping well with. You’re going to sit nicely apart. Like normal coworkers, where one of them doesn’t have the biggest crush in the world on the other. Like-
‘Your feet. Why are they bare?’ Ryuzaki’s looking you right in the eyes and you feel caught somehow, exposed like you did something wrong. Embarrassed you were yet again swept away in your thoughts, you splutter out, ‘Why are you barefoot huh?’ Your body feels hot. Nerves open and sparking like a live wire.
Ryuzaki looks down like it never occurred to him, and his toes wiggle like they’re saying hello, ‘I’m always barefoot. You take your shoes off because, and I quote, ‘the carpet is too nice in here for me to ruin with my muddy footprints,’ even though you never have mud on your shoes. You’re never barefoot.’
‘I-’ You look down at your toes. You don’t know why you’re barefoot. Then it comes flooding back to you in a rush, and you remember. Your stomach drops. ‘Oh shit. The carpet!’
You turn on your heel and sprint over to where you dropped the tea earlier. Ryuzaki chokes from somewhere behind you at your profanity. Shit shit fuck. You can’t believe you forgot- how could you forget? You’re so stupid. The stain is huge. How could you-?
You need something to clean with. What can you clean with? You shuffle through the drawers and cupboards in the tiny kitchenette and find nothing. You quickly scan the room behind you, just couches and Ryuzaki staring at you over his shoulders with wide eyes. You try the bathroom and as soon as you find something suitable you run back through.
You drop to your knees over the stained patch of carpet and start trying to soak up as much as you can. You can feel tears start to prick at your eyes. It doesn’t budge. Not even a little. Your movements are frantic, panicked and jerky, desperately trying to soak up the copious amounts of cold tea that’s been steeping in the white cream carpet when you hear Ryuzaki pad up behind you. His bare feet creep into your view before he crouches down beside you and puts a hand on your back.
‘It’s just a carpet.’ He doesn’t sound worried.
‘Yes, but it’s not my carpet and I ruined it.’ Your voice comes out choked, small and you curse it in your head. Trying not to cry over something so small, you curl into yourself, ashamed as a sob chokes rattles your chest and escapes wetly out your mouth. You’re not even dabbing at the floor anymore, just clutching what you think might be an old shirt between tight fists, as you slowly realise it’s probably Ryuzaki’s old shirt, given this is his hotel room. You don’t even know where you got it from. ‘Oh.’ You say, voice tight and small as you stare at it. ‘Ryuzaki, your shirt. I didn’t-’ Another sob escapes you, ‘I didn’t even realise. I’m sorry.’ You feel pathetic, body screwed up tight and small, curled over your knees and trying to hide your face from him. Your knees are cold from where they’re pressed into the wet patch on the carpet.
Ryuzaki reaches out and loosens your grip on the shirt. You watch as his long pale fingers wrap gently around your own and then firmly squeeze until you manage to let go. He takes it from you and drops it on the floor out of your reach. You cover your face with your shaking hands. You don’t care that they’re kind of damp from the tea, you don’t want to look at him.
‘Leave it. Watari will deal with it later. Or, housekeeping will.’ Ryuzaki pulls your hands away from your face.
You’re so embarrassed. Your face must be red and splotchy and you can feel your eyes watering with unshed tears but Ryuzaki looks at you the same way he always does. Like you’re no different. His eyes are set wide with curiosity as normal, the only difference is that he’s very close to your face. Like centimetres away. If you focused you could probably feel his breath. Is Ryuzaki… worried? ‘You said you were fine.’ The way he says it doesn’t sound accusatory. You worry it is all the same.
You nod, sniffing, wipe at your nose with your elbow. ‘I thought I was,’ you say weakly.
Ryuzaki looks down for a second, mouth a flat line, clearly thinking before he says, ‘What we saw today would have shaken up anyone. It would be weirder if you weren't affected…’ There's a pause before he says, ‘…Would a hug help?’ You nod, shakily and Ryuzaki uses his grip on your hands to pull you up and onto him, wrapping his arms tight around your back. Ryuzaki sits back out of his usual pose, with his legs on either side of you. He tucks your face into his neck and lays his hand on the back of your head. He holds you tightly, arms and legs pressing into you from either side, and the compression of it helps you calm down.
It takes a second but soon you feel calm enough to notice the mild rocking motion Ryuzaki’s doing. You don’t know if he’s doing it for you or if it’s just a subconscious movement. You sniff wetly against his neck and laugh. What a hellish day. ‘What?’ Ryuzaki asks. His voice is low against your ear and an involuntary shudder runs through you at the timbre of it. You hope he doesn’t notice.
‘Nothing. I just- I can’t believe how real this has suddenly gotten. I mean, Ukita…’ Your voice breaks, and you hiccup slightly.
Ryuzaki pulls back from you at this. Props you up with two hands on your shoulders. You take the opportunity to wipe some of the wetness off your face and try to smile weakly at him.
‘You don’t have to be here. It’s only going to get more dangerous from this point onwards. If any part of you is doubting your conviction, you’re free to leave. No, if that’s the case then you should leave. No one will blame you.’
You shake your head tiredly. ‘In for a penny, in for a pound, right?’ Sensing Ryuzaki’s about to undercut you again, you say, ‘I’m not doubting myself. This hasn’t changed anything for me. If anything it’s made me more determined to catch Kira- the Kira’s. To avenge Ukita if nothing else. Today was just… a lot.’
Ryuzaki nods at the conviction in your voice more than your words. ‘Then we should get started.’ He runs a thumb over your cheek then tugs pointedly at the wet fabric around your knees. ‘You should take a shower, Bambi.’ Ryuzaki gets to his feet and offers you a hand, the other tucked nonchalantly in his pocket. His whole body leans to one slide with his slouch and you find yourself unintentionally sitting on your knees before him, his hips angled out towards your face.
You’re suddenly hit in the face with how much you want to put Ryuzaki’s cock in your mouth and suck until he meets God. How can he be so attractive doing something as simple as standing? You think maybe there’s something wrong with you, swinging from panicked to horny in a second flat but maybe not normal is normal when you’ve suddenly come face to face with mortal peril. ‘I’ll have Watari leave out a set of clean set of clothes for you. In the meantime, I’m going to review the tapes by myself, then I can summarise them for you before we watch them together so you’re prepared.’ Face flushed hot with what you’ve been thinking, you tear your eyes away from Ryuzaki’s pelvis to grab his hand and allow him to help you up. You’re surprised he doesn’t call you out for spacing again but maybe he thinks it’s part of your mini-breakdown. Or he’s just being nice.
‘I- Thank you.’ You can’t meet his eyes. You can feel Ryuzaki’s gaze on your face so you duck your head and turn away. You practically run down the hallway to the bathroom with your tail tucked between your legs. You hear, ‘You’re welcome.’ as you enter the bathroom, so you stick your head back out the door to catch sight of Ryuzaki’s back as he casually turns towards the living area. Did he… watch you walk away? No. Couldn’t be. You’re overthinking.
You shake your head clear and step back into the bathroom. Inside the room there’s an empty vanity in front of a huge mirror with several white fluffy towels stacked on it; good to know you won’t have to go looking for those. The shower is behind a large glass panel which quickly steams up when you turn the water on. The heat of it helps you calm down your anxious racing thoughts and steady the tremble in your hands.
Only after you’ve washed all the panic away and are stepping out does it occur to you that you don’t have any clean clothes inside the bathroom. You know Ryuzaki said that Watari would get you some but maybe you were supposed to get them off him before? Your mind starts to race before you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. It doesn’t matter. You’re okay. You dry yourself off and wrap yourself tightly in the towel. The cold rush of air when you open the door causes you to pause before leaning out of the bathroom slightly, ‘hey, Ryuzaki?’ You call out to him.
‘On the floor.’ Is the clipped response you get. You can hear the television from where you’re standing, but you’re not sure what tape Ryuzaki is on. You look down. Oh. There’s a white t-shirt and some plaid pyjama pants folded at your feet. You snort slightly. Of course. Sometimes you wonder how the hell you became a police officer in the first place. You pick up the clothes and retreat into the bathroom to put them on.
The shirt is a soft cotton and sits on you nicely. You note it's the same shape and style as Ryuzaki usually wears with a distant fondness and-oh. You really are unobservant sometimes. You didn’t realise, because the trousers are clearly pyjama bottoms, made of a blue plaid with some gold threads running through them, and not the jeans he usually wears but these look like Ryuzaki’s clothes because they are Ryuzaki’s clothes. Oh.
You bring the front of the shirt up to your nose and inhale. It mainly smells like laundry detergent but clinging to it in an undercurrent there's the unmistakable smell of him. Unmistakable from the amount of times you’ve pushed him towards the shower but this scent isn’t a bad one, it’s more akin to the fond feeling behind a lingering hug or a wet day after a bout of unending dry heat. Familiar and welcome.
The pyjama bottoms are so long on you, you have to pick them up when you walk. You stumble only once while walking back through to the room. Ryuzaki has moved the furniture around so that the couch is angled in front of the television. There’s an open laptop on the floor in front of the couch and you wonder what it was he was looking up. One of the Kira videos is paused on the television, and Ryuazaki is perched on the couch in front of it eating a slice of cake with a small fork, one that seems designed for cake specifically from the looks of it. Ryuzaki gestures with the fork when he notices you’re in the room and you see that on the arm of the couch there’s a small plate with another slice and a cake fork on it for you. Ryuzaki presses play on the video once you’ve picked it up and sat down.
The first video is as Sakura T.V. described it, predicting the deaths of Seiichi and Seiichi Machiba at seven P.M. with nothing else on it. The second is the same one that aired on television earlier this evening. Once it’s finished Ryuzaki pauses the T.V. and then turns to you. ‘Earlier, after watching this video for the first time, you deduced that there was not one Kira, but two. And that this video was, in fact, made by the latter- that is to say, not the original. An astute observation, and one I shared in. What led you to this conclusion?’
You place your plate on the ground in front of you, then shift in your seat to turn and face Ryuzaki, swinging your legs up on the couch between you both and then tucking your feet into the ends of the pants. The edges of Ryuzaki’s mouth turn up when you do this. ‘Well… Kira’s never made a public statement before, right? At least, not one with words.’ You tap the end of your fork against your knee, thinking, ‘And they must have an incredible amount of pride, given what you’ve said on their motives before and considering the ego they’ve displayed; the clues they sacrificed just to get a point across to you… Points that the rest of us missed out on entirely before you explained them as well, and if Kira is as smart as we think then they would know that. So clearly they’ve got a thing about you specifically. Like when they killed your stand in on live T.V. and then couldn’t kill you after. It must have driven them crazy, trying to show the world that Kira is God only to have their plans fouled so easily on live television. Maybe that’s when it started…
‘And you were able to use that to figure out they need a name, or needed a name. So they’re baited pretty easily. All of this says they’re a very proud person. They’d have to be to think that they alone can be judge and jury of all criminals.
‘And adding in the fact that they’ve seen your logo with the voice changer and everything from back then and I just… I couldn’t believe that that person, that incredibly childish and egotistical and selfish person who has decided they’re in a heads on battle with you, L, would put out a video that doesn’t even have typed font! They just… don’t fit the profile.’ You shrug. ‘That’s the first thing I thought, when I saw it.’ You do air quotes, ‘This is a hoax. Kira wouldn’t put something so unprofessional out. Not as their first commandments or whatever- because that’s how they’d think of it. …But then they killed five people on live television, so… obviously not a hoax, just a copycat. The real Kira is probably seething right now.’
Ryuzaki hums, considering what you’ve said, and drums his fingers on the edge of his knee before saying, ‘Interesting... I had the exact same thoughts. Shoddy craftsmanship, the handwriting, the use of an at-home-video camera; all of this suggests that whoever made this video has priorities other than addressing the general public as a spokesperson for Kira or as Kira themselves, or they’d care more about the presentation. So there’s potentially a hidden agenda. There’s also the inconsistent sound quality, which suggests that this was recorded in segments, likely this Kira was interrupted while filming and had to rewind the tape to re-record those parts- whereas I think the real Kira would have recorded the whole thing in one take, no matter how many times it took.
‘This Kira seems to be lacking in both patience and technical know-how, as the sound quality is far worse than if they had just used a voice changer. No. It’s likely the audio was recorded on another device and then played back and picked up by the camera’s microphone. Plus, they copied the font I use when presenting as ‘L’ to the public, when Kira would likely want to set himself apart from me, as if Kira ever gets my name they will likely try to kill me and then villianise me. The font association between us would not be something they want linking us together no matter how petty they are…
‘Moreover, the criminal’s who are predicted to die in the first tape are both low-level drug offenders. I looked it up while you were in the shower. They’re the kind of criminal that’s only reported in gossipy magazines, not major news outlets. Every time Kira has wanted to make a statement, or respond in some way to an assumption that we have made and has been taken note of somewhere in the NPA’s records, he has used high-profile criminals that at their times of death were incarcerated so that they would be found by prison guards immediately. This makes me think that this ‘second Kira’ wanted to avoid any high profile criminals, lest the original Kira killed them first and rendered their predictions incorrect.
‘Considering all these ideas put together, I believe the real intention of these videos is to let Kira, the real Kira, know that they have a supporter out there with the same, or better, powers and that they’re willing to use them to aid Kira in their cause. In all probabilities, the second Kira made this video to get the original Kira’s attention and praise. They seem to be incredibly childish with no real regard for the value of human life, fitting for a minion of Kira.’
Ryuzaki gets quiet after saying all this, looking intensely at his knees. You think that he’s lost in thought when he snaps his head up to look at you and says, ‘You’ve got very good reasoning skills, most people wouldn’t come to such a conclusion so quickly. I see now why you became a police officer… However, I do disagree with you on one part.’ Ryuzaki leans over the edge of the couch to take another slice of cake, proffered by Watari. He immediately takes a huge bite of it.
You’re silent for a moment,‘...You see now?’
Ryuzaki gives you a sheepish smile. ‘I did doubt your conviction for a moment there-’
‘I already said sorry for-!’
‘No, not that. When you first arrived at headquarters. You were so… timid. Especially compared to the you that demanded to be put on the Kira taskforce otherwise you would go on a suicide mission to hunt them down yourself. After meeting you in person, I thought you would get a glimpse of the danger involved in this case and go running home, tail tucked between your legs. But you’re not like that at all, are you?’ Ryuzaki’s looking at you with searching eyes and you’re not sure what to say.
You should be offended. You want to be offended but he’s looking at you so intently with wide eyes and a slight upturn to the sides of his open mouth, finger playing with his lip like he does when he’s focusing. Like you’re a puzzle he can’t quite figure out and you feel… important and exciting. Like the world could end and you’d be just fine as long as he keeps looking at you like that.
‘You’ve got a lot more conviction that I initially gave you credit for, but conviction alone doesn’t make for a good cop, a decent one, maybe, but good? No. You need to understand how criminals think for that. And you do. I think with some training you would become a force to be reckoned with. You’ve got the makings of a detective about you, Bambi.’ Ryuzaki looks up at the ceiling, face inquisitive as he tries to recall something, ‘It doesn’t happen often- actually, I don’t think it’s happened ever, but I am quite happy to have been wrong about you.’ He flashes you what you think is supposed to be a winning grin but comes out far softer and slightly lopsided, like he’s inviting you into his personal world with nothing but a smile and your brain short circuits with want.
‘I- um, thank you…’ You say quietly. You’re scrambling for what to say in response to his compliments as Ryuzaki shoves the last of his cake in his mouth. He points at the leftover cake on your plate with his fork and a question in his raised brow and you nod, mutely. Ryuzaki leans over, places his hands on the floor, and uses them to ‘walk’ over to the plate and grab it before sitting up. You snort. It’s both incredibly childish, and a ridiculously casual display of athleticism. Very Ryuzaki of him. Seeing him be so normal helps you reorganise your thoughts and remember what you were talking about before he derailed you with sentiments of incredible sincerity. ‘Ryuzaki. You said before that you disagreed with me on one of my points. Which was it?’
‘Kira,’ It comes out garbled; Ryuzaki has a terrible habit of speaking with his mouth full. You watch him chew twice, very deliberately, then swallow. He points with the fork as he talks. ‘The real Kira, is not angry. At least, not properly. They're more likely ecstatic right now and thinking of how best to use this other Kira to their advantage. That is if they saw the broadcast. Which they will at some point, we just won’t know when exactly that is. But, think of it this way, Kira has just gained a follower who believes in their ‘commandments’, as you put it, with enough conviction to not hesitate before killing five people on live television. They also seem to have the power to kill without needing someone’s name. Kira has just gained an incredibly powerful ally. We cannot allow these two Kira’s to meet. It would be disastrous for us.’
‘Oh. Yeah that makes sense.’ You look back down at your feet. There’s a loose thread on the pyjama bottoms you’re wearing and you pick at it.
‘Don’t misunderstand. I’m still very impressed.’ You look up at that. ‘I think you’ve got a very good understanding on who Kira likely is, from the profile. However, you missed the bigger picture part of this, which is that Kira will constantly be thinking, ‘how can I use this to my advantage?’ We should be thinking of how Kira will be attempting to use this, but also how we can use this.
‘Now, tell me what you meant when you said, ‘commandments’. You think he’s trying to start a religion?’ He takes another bite of the cake in front of him, scraping icing around on the plate to get the optimal bite.
‘More like a cult.’ You snort. Ryuzaki just stares at you, chewing. He gestures for you to continue with his fork when you don’t say anything more.
‘Well… I don’t think it’s like, anything they’re trying to do on purpose, y’know.’ You prop your chin on your knees and look away from Ryuzaki’s eyes, chewing your lip and fiddling with your toes. His stare is too heavy, revealing. It’s like he sees into your head and how much you value what he has to say, ‘You said once that Kira thought of themselves like a God right? I just figured that’s how they would think of it. Their first public appearance. It’s gotta be important to them. That’s why I thought they’d be angry. Not only was it taken from them, it was taken by someone with the same powers but clearly less skill and intelligence, meaning that Kira is no longer special.’
Ryuzaki nods slowly, ‘I agree. How they’ve been slowly seeding their rhetoric in the public consciousness without actually saying anything is likely so that each person subconsciously tailors it specifically to their own individual morals. Actions are much easier to misinterpret and misalign with your own sense of justice than words. Any degree of evil can be excused if you don’t think the person doing the evil is intending to be evil. So having someone else, no less someone with considerably less intelligence putting out a message relaying,’ Ryuzaki does air quotes, ‘‘Kira’s’ intentions so plainly, especially with the killing of innocents involved, I do not think they will be happy per se. However, I do think they will be putting a positive spin on this. They’ve gained an incredibly powerful ally for what could shape up to be a minor setback. Plus, once Sakura airs this fourth tape, they’ll have all the more reason to be thankful.’
Ryuzaki gestures to the frozen T.V. screen, speaking with his mouth full again. He swallows, you watch his throat bob and you think about placing your hand against it and feeling the movement. The thought rattles around your brain, blocking out his voice and reverberating until it’s all you’re thinking about… Sitting in his lap, feeding him cake with your hands, feeling his neck as he swallows… Letting him lick the icing off your fingers, pressing them down against his tongue... If he would gag… If his wide eyes would water as he stares at you, his pale lips glistening with saliva, his spit coating your fingers and running down your arm.
‘-Bambi?’ Oh shit. ‘Did you hear what I said?’ Seriously, what is wrong with you today? Your emotions seem to be on a hair trigger because of everything that’s happened.
‘Oh, um. No, sorry I got- got distracted, I-um.’ You don’t know what to fucking say. You don’t know why it’s happening now of all times. Maybe because it’s the first time you’ve been alone with him since it happened; the last time you got ‘distracted’ Ryuzaki called you out in front of the whole room and told everyone you were thinking about fucking him. Your face heats and you have to sit back a little with how fast the blood has rushed to your head. Anxiety pricks at the back of your neck and your face feels hot and you’re a little humiliated and he hasn’t even said anything. Yet. You’re waiting for him to say something when you feel a hand brush the side of your neck and settle on your shoulder.
‘Breathe.’ Ryuzaki says and you realise you’ve got your eyes screwed shut, but you can’t quite bring yourself to open them and look at him. His hand squeezes slightly and you notice that your shoulders are tucked up around your ears, tense. With a little effort you move them back down. You’re mentally preparing to open your eyes again, embarrassed at being caught out and then even more embarrassed at freaking out over it when Ryuzaki’s hand slides down to your forearm, hooks behind your elbow and pulls. Your eyes fly open in shock as you go flying forwards with a squeak, Ryuzaki catches you by placing his other arm on your midsection as you move. You land on his chest with an ‘oof’ noise. His hands slide round to the small of your back as you lie there, mind reeling. Just how strong is Ryuzaki? He clearly practises some kind of martial art from how smooth that was.
One of Ryuzaki’s hands comes up to smooth over your hair and you go, ‘Um… what?’ He huffs a laugh breathlessly above you. You feel his chest contract beneath you with the sound.
‘You looked like you were panicking again. This was what helped before.’ Oh. That’s so… sweet, you think. Ryuzaki’s legs are spaced on either side of you, knees up as usual but all his weight is leaned back against the couch. Your face is tucked against his chest, so you don’t have to worry about hiding your smile from him. The weight of his hand rubbing circles on your back is more… distracting than calming, but your panic has completely dissipated with his touch. Maybe you were more worried about what he thinks of you than what you were actually thinking about.
‘I guess I was right.’ Ryuzaki says. His voice is a deep rumble with your ear pressed to his chest like this. His hand leaves the back of your head and his thumb brushes along the curve of your smile. Your eyes widen. Huh. Maybe you’re not as hidden as you thought. You feel your face flush cherry red so you bury it in his chest. Ryuzaki puts his hand back on your nape.
You should say something. You know you should say something, excuse your behaviour somehow but you don’t know how to. Your mind is racing yet somehow entirely blank. The only thought in there is chasing itself around, slipping between variations of ‘he’s so pretty’ and ‘oh sweet fuck, I can feel him pressed against me’ and ‘this is so… nice’. The last one is somehow more surprising than you think it should be.
Ryuzaki’s hips flex as he shifts how he’s sitting to make himself more comfortable underneath you. Oh god. He grabs the remote from where he left it. ‘You really need to work on your focus. I’ll let you off this time, since it’s been a rough day for all of us. But, really, think of today this way: we’ve gained an invaluable opportunity to move forward with the case here.’ Yes. The case. That’s what you’re distracted by, not… other things. You wonder for a second if there is something actually wrong with you considering everything that’s happened today and all you can think about is how Ryuzaki feels pressed up against you.
‘Can I put in the next tape?’ Ryuzaki asks, and you thank god for the distraction from your… distraction, as another thought has joined the relay going on in your brain and it’s the feeling of Ryuzaki flexing his hips against you over and over. What it would be like if he did it on purpose…. If it would feel any different with the proper intention behind it… You squirm slightly from where you’re laid between his legs, nodding at him and pretending your pussy isn’t starting to tingle with the thoughts that you’re having.
Ryuzaki calls out for Watari to ask him if he can change the tape, and you latch onto it for something to think about other than him and the way his arms are wrapped around you.
‘I have a question.’ You say quietly into Ryuzaki’s chest.
‘Is it to do with the case?’ He asks.
‘No. Not really.’ You cringe, thinking he’s not interested in hearing it but Ryuzaki simply hums and continues tracing circles on the small of your back with the hand not holding the remote.
‘Hmm… You’d better ask it before I start the tape then.’
‘Is Watari- I mean, what is his- your-’ you address Watari, who is kneeling beside the television in the middle of changing the tape, ‘-job exactly? I thought he was like, your liaison to the police but his role seems to extend much further than that. I mean he cleaned up the tea I spilt earlier and I just… I feel bad that he-you,’ you address Watari again, ‘had to do that for me…’
You can feel Ryuzaki’s gaze on you, and you crane your head up to look at him as you chew your lip anxiously. There’s a moment of silence where he just watches you; he’s obviously satisfied with whatever he finds on your face when he says, ‘Watari is my handler and, technically, my carer. He handles all the work I am unable or unwilling to do, which includes his work as a police liaison, and more to facilitate my detective work.’ You nod slowly. You don’t ask what the ‘more’ is.
‘Oh.’ You deflate slightly. That makes sense. You don’t know what you were expecting him to say. You kind of feel like a dick for thinking of Ryuzaki as spoiled when he was in your house earlier. Maybe it’s less he doesn’t know how to clean and more that he can’t, for whatever reason.
Although he is still certifiably rich given all the hotels, he also doesn’t think twice about sharing what he has; he lets task force members come and go as they please, pays for meals had while at the headquarters, and he normally offers you some of whatever sweet he’s munching on ever since he found out about your sweet tooth. Honestly, you’re not quite sure what to make of all of it, but his life suddenly makes a hell of a lot more sense but also seems indiscriminately more complex now that you know this.
The only thing you’re really certain of is that you think that Watari may not be the best person for the role considering he was content to let Ryuzaki sit unwashed for the better part of two weeks before you managed to make him shower. Then again, Ryuzaki is L, and he can certainly hold his own when he wants too. Plus, you’ve not exactly seen any other staff around, so there’s clearly more to the hiring criteria than you’re aware of. Maybe it’s something you’ll never really understand, or something that you don’t have to, and you just have to accept it.
You say, ‘Okay, but still I should have-’
‘I assure you that I am both paid exceptionally well and am more than fulfilled in my role here.’ Watari cuts in.
You start at how suddenly Watari breaks his silence, and immediately feel bad when Ryuzaki says ‘Ow.’, in a plaintive tone of voice. You accidentally elbowed him. You know Ryuzaki well enough by now to know that tone, if he has it, means absolutely nothing but this sounds put on. Petulant. You lift yourself up slightly and see him rubbing his side where your elbow dug in, with his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout. You don’t know if he’s putting it on because he is hurt or just because he’s fucking with you. You want to kiss the pout off him quite desperately either way. ‘Sorry.’ You say, lightly rubbing the area with your hand in way of apology.
The pout disappears, instead being replaced with his usual puppy dog smile. ‘I forgive you.’ He says. Ryuzaki tugs you back down on top of him. The issue is cemented as resolved when he smooths his hand over your hair and says, ‘Stop worrying about the tea. You were having a panic attack. You weren’t capable of sorting it yourself.’
You lift your head slightly, preparing to argue when Ryuzaki hits you with such a dry stare it makes the words die in your mouth. He continues, ‘You were scrubbing the floor with a dirty t-shirt and I don’t even know where you got it from.’ You shrink away from his gaze slightly, embarrassed by the memory. Ryuzaki places his hand on the back of your head and says, ‘Everyone needs help sometimes. Stop beating yourself up. Now, shh. And watch.’ He presses play on the remote and the third Kira video starts.
This one denotes the terms which Kira Two, as you’ve dubbed them, expects the police to follow in their acquiescement to working with them. They state that they want even more criminal’s names to be aired on television, with special focus on those who are cruel to the vulnerable or where people were injured, and that Kira alone will get to be judge and jury. Then they state that they want L, alongside the top NPA officials, to appear on television to make an announcement that the police are working with Kira. Which is obviously a ploy to kill L and hold the police force hostage in the case they disagree with Kira down the line or wish to renegade on their decision.
You snort, and say, ‘Fat chance of either of those things happening.’
‘Actually, the next tape says basically the same thing, with the exception of it being either myself or the Director General of the NPA who dies as penance for the police's refusal to work with Kira. And I can’t exactly allow the Director General of the NPA to die on my behalf considering I am the one who challenged Kira in the first place’
You feel like you’ve had a bucket of ice tipped over your head. ‘...Are you serious?’ You say, frowning. You lean up on your arms to better look at his face.
‘Why wouldn’t I be serious?’ He asks, gaze trained on your own. You sit up, hands on your knees and look at him appalled.
‘How in hell can you be serious? This Kira can clearly kill without a name! They killed Ukita and two other cops earlier tonight! You’ll die, Ryuzaki.’
Ryuzaki leans up on his elbows, ‘I know that. But if it’s my life or his, mine is inherently less valuable.’
‘Don’t say that. Why would you say that? There has to be another way!’ You can feel yourself tearing up. You curse your damn emotional regulation and the fact you cry at a hint of frustration.
Ryuzaki rubs his thumb over his lip while looking away from you. ‘I’m afraid not. And I cannot let another man die in my place when it’s me they’re after.’ Ryuzaki sits up fully and leans over to wipe a tear from your cheek that you hadn’t noticed escaping. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you so upset over this?’ His voice is soft, still a bleeding monotone but he’s speaking quietly, like he’s more worried than irritated. ‘You knew that this was a possibility, that in going head to head with Kira any one of us could die- would die, for the greater good. That’s what this task force is for. You’ve said as much yourself before. What changed?’
‘Because I don’t want to lose you okay!’ You hiccup, and try as you might to keep it inside the hiccup turns into a full blown sob. You brush his hand away from your face and try hide in between your knees, ashamed. Ryuzaki frowns. Even with your eyes shut you can see his concerned face displayed clearly in your mind's eye and only then do you realise that you’re a little bit in love with Ryuzaki. And you really fucking shouldn’t be. This only makes you cry harder. You feel his hand hover, and then gently settle on your upper back. When you make no move to shove it off, the other hand and both his arms join the occasion as Ryuzaki leans over and hugs you. He shows no sign of moving until you’ve stopped sobbing and your breathing is calming down.
‘...so it’s something to do with me specifically?’ He asks. You choke out a wet laugh, for a world renowned genius detective, sometimes he is an idiot. ‘I wasn’t joking.’ He says. That’s not what you were laughing about, ‘This is a serious vulnerability. We can’t move forwards as a team if this is how you’re going to react every time our lives are threatened. I’m sorry.’ Ryuzaki’s tone sounds final. You scrub your hands across your wet face and finally dare to look at him.
‘It’s not- I’m not…’ You can’t bring yourself to say it so instead you say, ‘I wouldn’t be like this if it were anyone else Kira Two was asking to basically commit suicide on live telly. I- maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t-’
‘I was right.’
‘Yeah that’s what I’m saying-’
‘You do want to have sex with me.’ What? Ryuzaki’s got his thumb in his mouth as he speaks. His eyes are sparkling, head tilted down, staring you in the face as he says, ‘And presumably more considering how emotional you’re being over my maybe death.’
‘I-What?’ You say. Practically breathe out with how panicked and confused you feel.
‘You want to have sex with me. I knew my hypothesis wasn’t wrong. I’m never wrong.’ Ryuzaki’s smiling like a cute puppy again and you’re so confused. It feels like the world has tipped on its head.
When you don’t speak Ryuzaki says, ‘I’m not going to die, Bambi. At least, not if I can help it; with the probability of this being a second Kira, I think we will be able to call them off by making our own fake Kira video. The only obstacle will be making sure that the real Kira doesn’t interfere and let the second know that we too are a fake.’ He’s staring at you, face expectant, like he thinks this information is going to make you anything other than angry. You cannot believe what you just heard. Ryuzaki knew he wasn’t going to die all this time? Then why did he- you think back to what he said before and a white hot rage rushes across your body.
‘Did you seriously make me think you were going to die just because you wanted to be right?’ Your voice is a thundering rage and you’re sure you’re shaking. The tears are back at the edge of your eyes and Ryuzaki has the gall to look surprised.
‘No.’ He says. ‘Well, yes.’ He amends. The look on your face must be pretty scary because Ryuzaki puts his hands up in front of him and quickly continues, ‘I did it with good reason. I had to ascertain if I was reading you correctly. I tried to broach you on this topic before but you went bright red, and it looked like you were about to cry and I couldn't decipher what emotion that was and so I kept going, in order to find out, but then you lied about it and left.
‘And I admit, I was rather confused and upset by your reaction because you had already promised me you wouldn’t lie and then you did. I didn’t think you were embarrassed, Bambi. I thought I’d read you wrong and that you didn’t like me. Matsuda had to explain that you were upset. Then the Chief Yagami informed me that what I did could be considered workplace harassment so I thought that was why you made that face- because you were angry. That put me in quite a funk, I have to say, thinking that you were mad at me.
‘I was planning on calling you to apologise for my egregious overstepping, but then Matsuda informed me that you were embarrassed for, and I quote, ‘having your dirty laundry aired like that’. And I figured it would only make sense for him to say that if it was true and you did want to have sex with me, but those two pieces of evidence are contradictory and I couldn’t reconcile them. So I didn’t want to bring it up until I was sure. I didn't want to embarrass you again, or make you angry or come anywhere close to harassing you. …I admit it wasn’t very gentlemanly of me to use your heightened emotional state against you but it seemed very unlikely another opportunity like this would arise. You play your cards very close to your chest, bambi.’
You’re flabbergasted. All of this for what? Annoyance prickles at your skin and you have to breathe slowly and deliberately to stop yourself from slipping back into white hot rage. ‘Pray tell me why exactly you wanted to know if I want to have sex with you?’
‘Well I think that’s pretty obvious, don’t you?’
You raise an eyebrow, as if to say, “no?”
‘Maybe you won’t be a good detective.’ Ryuzaki mumbles it around his thumb, towards the floor, but you hear it loud and clear. You feel the strong undercurrent of anger about to sweep you away again but it’s completely undercut when he looks directly at you and finishes it up with, ‘I want to have sex with you.’ Your ears start ringing. Surely you misheard that.
He continues, ‘I have done since the first time I laid eyes on you in the lobby and you looked so much like a startled deer that I nicknamed you Bambi… I was already suspicious of your attraction to me then. But then the case started to pick up and you treated me like everyone else. I’m glad you’re more comfortable around me now, because it allowed us to connect on a level I haven’t with anyone before, but I have to say…’ Ryuzaki’s eyes drift off to the side slightly, and you think maybe he’s daydreaming as he says, ‘I do miss teasing you and watching you scamper around like a frightened deer, always in a state of panic, it’s so cute. But then you just… stopped.’ He frowns slightly, but the expression quickly clears. ‘That is until you started zoning out while staring at me. And blushing bright red when I brought your attention back to Earth. That was fun.’ Ryuzaki’s mouth turns up at the edges, the start of a wicked grin in the making. He reaches out and brushes his thumb over your lower lip and you’re frozen, transfixed. But then he drops his hand like he’s been burned.
‘For what it’s worth, I am sorry.’ Ryuzaki looks away from you. You think maybe he struggles with eye contact when the conversation’s uncomfortable for him. ‘For tricking you.’ He looks up, ‘but I had to be sure. I didn’t want to repeat last time and have you end up hating me. You’re important to me, as a friend or as more. I won’t trick you again.’ You may not like it, but in some twisted way you do understand his reasoning. You sigh and put your head in your hands. ‘Bambi?’
You look up at him from below your brow, with your palms pressed to your face . You point a singular finger at him. ’I am so incredibly angry at you.’
Ryuzaki starts to nod, looking down, when you grab him by the collar of his shirt aggressively and drag him forwards into a kiss. His lips are chapped, dry but soft. And the friction of it catching on your lips feels good. You shudder as a tingle runs down your spine at the feeling. Ryuzaki makes a surprised sound low in his throat and you groan at it as you kiss him harder, before pulling back slightly.
Your lips brush against his and your noses bump lightly as you press your forehead to his, breathing hard. He says, ‘Am I forgiven?’ You pull back, cup his face and look him in the eyes before saying, ‘No.’ lightly. You brush his fringe out his face and press a soft kiss to his forehead. ‘Let’s go have sex.’ You say, before linking your fingers through his and leading him through to his bedroom. He stumbles a bit when he gets up, clearly not expecting this, and some sadistic part of you feels slightly vindicated at the motion.
Ryuzaki’s bed is unmade, and the dirty clothing littering his floor makes you feel better about the state he saw your house in earlier. Internally you question how many of the same shirt-jeans combo this man owns. You giggle slightly at the thought, hushing Ryuzaki when he makes a questioning face at you. This morning feels like an eternity away now, so much has happened since then. This, pulling Ryuzaki round to kiss him breathlessly, feeling his hands settle on your hips and then directing him backwards to land on the bed is the only thing you want to focus on right now. You push the other thoughts from your mind and clamber on top of him.
You settle squarely over Ryuzaki’s hips. You can feel the bump in his jeans where the zipper is; he’s not hard yet but you can’t wait to feel him underneath you. The thought makes you wiggle your hips in anticipation. The flannel pyjama pants you’re wearing provide no padding between you. You can feel the rough material of his jeans through the flannel.
You use your hands to ruck up Ryuzaki’s shirt, exposing his pale stomach and brown nipples. He’s so pretty. His tits are, in fact, soft. Nipples puffy where they sit on soft pillows of fat covering his pecs. You want to suck them. You brush your hands over them before leaning over and licking one into your mouth while rubbing his soft stomach. Ryuzaki chokes on a gasp and one hand comes up to sit on the hair at the back of your head. Either he’s sensitive here, or no one’s sucked his nipples before. Equally tantalising thoughts.
‘What happened to the timid deer I’ve gotten to know during all these months?’ He asks you.
You lean up slightly to look at Ryuzaki, his hair is wild on the pillow behind him, and there’s two spots of bright pink high on his cheeks but he seems otherwise unaffected, ‘I’ve got a wicked streak’, you say, with a shrug and a sly smile before diving back down to run your tongue over his nipple. It’s pebbled in reaction to the combination of your wet spit and the cold air, so you graze it with your teeth before taking it into your mouth and sucking. Ryuzaki’s hips twitch upwards at this so you do it again.
You brush your fingers over his other nipple and then switch to it, you run your tongue over his areola, then press your tongue flat against it and suck. You hear Ryuzaki whine from above you. You can feel him pressing his chest up into you, pushing his soft tits against your face. You press him down into the mattress with your hands on his rib cage. He thrusts his hips against you in response and you can feel his dick start to chub in his trousers. You run your tongue over his nipple once more before biting it gently. Ryuzaki whines at this, his hips rocking underneath you. You’ve never heard anything so addicting.
Your clit is sitting heavy in your pants, and you can feel your pussy clenching in anticipation. You sit your weight on Ryuzaki’s hips so he can rut against you but the denim of jeans is too thick; you can’t feel him how you want to so you reach down and lift your hips to undo his trousers. Ryuzaki hisses slightly when you pull the zipper down. You shove his trousers down enough to free his cock; Ryuzaki helps you by lifting his hips and he’s not wearing any underwear. Does he never wear underwear? Or are you just lucky? He wasn’t that time in the shower… You sit back up to look at him properly.
Ryuzaki is panting slightly beneath you, mouth a bitten red, nipples shiny with spit and raised, arms lying limply above his head, his cock is lying against his stomach, half chubbed with interest. It must have hurt pressed bare against the zipper of his jeans. You curl your hand around it firmly and give it a couple slow strokes. His hips jerk up into the motion, and his cock starts to fill quickly.
Ryuzaki’s cock is pretty. It looks good moving through your palm. He’s got an average length with a sizable girth that makes you clench in anticipation just looking at it. It’s fitting for him. Thick and uncut, tanner than the rest of him with thick black hair surrounding the base. His skin takes on a dusky tone where his crotch meets his thigh and you want to lick it so you do. You lean down and slot your tongue into the crease, Ryuzaki’s hips hump up towards the heat of your mouth.
You set a slow rhythm on his cock with your hand and his hips start to rock into it. His eyes flutter shut, biting his lip and relaxing into the feeling. Ryuzaki looks so fucking sexy like this your cunt is burning an insistent slow lick of arousal. He’s gorgeous, both his face and his cock. You never once thought you’d get to see this. You lean forwards and lick the head of his cock, before pressing a sucking kiss to the tip of it. You hear him groan out, ‘Bambi…’ You watch the muscles around his hips and lower abdomen contract, and he sounds strained. A large hand laces its way through the hair at the base of your head. You expect it to press you closer to his cock but he pulls you up and away from it. You stare at him, shocked, with your mouth open and tongue sticking out slightly.
Ryuzaki sits up, he’s panting and there’s a flush running down his neck to his chest that you want to trace with your tongue. You’re not sure why he stopped you but you feel like a scruffed kitten so you whine at him, forgetting you can use words. Ryuzaki’s eyes flutter at the sound and he pulls you into him to presse a soft kiss to your lips, then your forehead and then your temple before resting his head against yours. You lean forwards slightly, trying to kiss him again or to return to his twitching cock, but Ryuzaki holds you tight. It’s sitting against his thigh, angry and red looking and you’re not sure why you’ve been stopped.
You pull towards it again and Ryuzaki tightens his grip on your hair and stops you in place. You whine again and Ryuzaki says, ‘you can suck my cock next time, okay Bambi?’ You shiver at how plainly he says it; even though you’d been engaged in the act a mere second ago, the openness he speaks with stirs something deep within you. Your hips hump against nothing. You need him to touch you and you need him to touch you now.
Ryuzaki moves back from your face to look you in the eyes, gaze intense as he says, ‘I’ve got things I want to do to you. Things I’ve been thinking about since the first time I laid eyes on you.’ You swallow reflexively. His eyes track the movement. A smile starts to curl at the edges of his mouth. A shiver runs down your spine at his expression, eyes wide and dark, tracking your every twitch. You’ve often wondered what it’d be like to have the full weight of Ryuzaki’s attention on you, and now you’re got it, it's overwhelming. You feel like you’re going to melt under his watchful gaze. He asks, ‘will you stay still for me, Bambi?’ You nod shakily and he disentangles his hand from your hair ever so gently, kisses you on the temple before moving wriggling out from underneath you to remove his jeans the rest of the way.
You laugh, a hand comes up to cover your mouth and Ryuzaki raises a brow pointedly. You drop it back into your lap and give him a remorseful look. He smiles at you sweetly before crawling back up the bed and patting you on the head. It should be demeaning, but you just wiggle slightly in excitement, happy to be doing good for him. Ryuzaki’s hands brush down your sides, bump your wrists up above your head as he peels the shirt off of you. He says, ‘ready?’ And you’re about to ask, ‘ready for what?’ When he uses the same trick as before, he pulls you forwards by the elbow, catches your hip and pushes on it to turn you around. You land with an ‘oomph’ where he was previously laid.
You’re still reeling over how fast your positions switched when Ryuzaki’s grinning face looms over you. He leans down to kiss you but you’re still a little shocked so you don’t reciprocate. Ryuzaki sits back a little and asks, ‘too much?’ You nod and laugh a little breathlessly, ‘yeah just, maybe a warning next time?’
Ryuzaki says, ‘I did give you a warning,’ and you raise your eyebrows as if to say, ‘really?’
He says, ‘I’ll give you more of one next time,’ and leans in. He stops an inch away from your face, eyes flicking between your eyes and mouth in silent question. You close the gap and kiss him softly. He pulls back with his classic puppy dog smile on his face. Ryuzaki flops down onto his belly between your legs and places a wet kiss just above your belly button. You lean up into it, then recoil immediately when he blows a raspberry on the skin there. It tickles.
‘Hey!’ You push Ryuzaki’s head away instinctively and he gives you a goofy looking grin as he looks up.
‘What?’ He rests his head on your stomach. He’s ridiculous. God you adore this man; he’s so cute. You can’t stop the smile that’s creeping onto your face.
‘Is this what you were planning on doing to me?’ You rub your toes up Ryuzaki’s side and he shifts away from the motion, grabbing that leg by the ankle and pulling it straight. He pouts at you exaggeratedly.
‘Is that what you think of me?’ Ryuzaki scrapes his teeth against your belly lightly and hooks his fingers in the waist of your pyjama bottoms, ‘Up.’ He instructs. You lift your hips and he slides the trouser off of you. You feel the fabric on your crotch peel off the skin in a wet sticky kiss. Ryuzaki sits up to pull them off your ankles, and with him kneeling upright between your legs you can’t help but be in awe of how beautiful he is; all pale skin and long limbs, his messy black hair curling around the edges of his face, how soft the lines of his features are, sloping gently into each other with finesse and ease, the sharp contrast between his black hair and pale skin, the dark circles under his eyes throwing his face into sharp relief against the light and making them stand out. He’s stunning. And you are so, so incredibly lucky.
You sit up on your elbows. Ryuzaki inhales visibly when he sees your cunt for the first time, sticky and wet for him. You watch his pupils dilate and his chest stutter and expand. He leans forward and swipes his thumb down the sticky line of your pussy, parting your lips with a smooth motion, stopping when his thumb comes to rest over your entrance. He can feel the clenching motion your pussy makes at the pressure as it tries to swallow his thumb, eager for stimulation. He doesn’t take his eyes off you as he takes back his hand and settles on his elbows before you. You watch him settle then resettle from your vantage point leaning up on your elbows, seemingly unable to get comfortable. He reaches down and re-adjusts his cock between himself and the bedspread, then he drops his forehead to the crease of your thigh, breath ghosting over your pussy as you see his hips rock into his grip and he moans, mouth open.
It’s an unbearable tease, the wet heat of his mouth so close to where you need it and your hips rock up towards him. You feel his breath puff against your cunt in staccato bursts as he laughs so you ask, ‘What?’ Well, more whine it. Ryuzaki settles his head to the side and brings his hands up to rest on your hips.
He looks up at you, brows pinched and you can feel your clit twitch at the pained expression on his face as he mutters, ‘You’re going to be the death of me,’ before dipping his head to lay a wet kiss briefly over the top of your clit. He groans as it jumps towards his face and you squeal in response, rocking your hips away from and then into the sensation. It sends a sharp shock through you and then burns with the ghost of the sensation once his lips leave. You whine, feeling more desperate by the second as your hips chase the sensation where his mouth once was. Ryuzaki is staring at your pussy with an intensity he usually reserves for interesting cases or sweets so you start to squirm in place, unable to keep your hips still.
‘...Please?’ You say, and tilt your hips up deliberately, pleadingly. Ryuzaki parts your swollen lips with his thumb, running it down the seam of your cunt before leaning in and swiping his tongue up the length of you. He curls it around your clit at the top and then repeats the motion, once, twice, a third time. You throw your head back and try not to squirm too much, rock your hips back and forth against his face while moaning in the back of your throat, little ‘uh, uh, uh’s that you don’t care to quieten. His tongue is so wet and hot. It feels good.
You feel Ryuzaki’s fingers brush against your folds, then you feel two of them rub gently over your entrance, not pushing in, just providing a pressure and a friction that makes you cant your hips down into the motion. You moan, high pitched, as he rubs little circles there while making out messily with your clit.
‘Ryu-’
He pulls back for just long enough to breathe out, ‘Call me L,’ before resealing his mouth around your clit. You giggle at first before realising he’s serious when he locks eyes with you, previously having had them shut while enjoying his meal.
‘Ryuzaki, what?’ You ask breathlessly. Ryuzaki, or L you suppose, grazes his teeth over the hood of your clit in response, before humming noncommittally and sealing his lips around it to suck hard. You moan hoarsely, thighs coming up to clamp around his face. He taps the palm of his free hand repeatedly against the top of your thigh and with some conscious effort you relax them away from his face. He detaches from your clit with a wet pop and between licks says,
‘Call, me, L.’ Oh. So he was serious then. Honestly, you don't care what he wants to be called right now as long as he puts his mouth back where it was. ‘Do you want my fingers inside?’ L presses in slightly with the fingers circling your entrance, rubs them back and forth teasingly. You keen, bear down with your hips.
‘Yes Please, L. Please can you- can you put your mouth back on me- on my- please just- oh fuck L.’
You moan hoarsely as he puts his mouth back on your clit, brushing his tongue up and down before swirling it and sucking while his two fingers slowly breach you. You try to hump down onto them and he stops about an inch in. You whine, lifting your head to look at him but he’s got his eyes closed. You take in a deliberate lungful of air and slow the rocking of your hips back to its regular gentle wave. Ryuzaki- L groans out his approval into your pussy and his fingers start to move forwards again.
The stretch is delicious. His fingers are much longer than yours and reach deeper than you can on your own. The friction feels like a trail of fire is being stroked deep in your cunt. L starts curling his fingers up against the inside of your pussy, while returning to a suckling motion on your clit with his mouth, his tongue pressed against the bottom of your clit. The rhythmic pushing and pull between L stroking hot fire deep inside you and bathing your clit in rolling waves of pleasure shunts you towards the edge far faster than you expected and you can feel your cunt clench in anticipation, feel it spasm around the pressure building behind his fingers and your clit.
Your breath’s spilling out in gasps and moans, airy little ‘ah, ah, ah's' that L responds to by pulling his head away from your clit slightly without letting go of the suction. He keeps the same rhythm with his fingers, drawing lines of fire inside you that spark up your spine and make you jolt in his grasp. You manage to get out, ‘Ryuzaki-L I’m- I’m gonna-’ before you cum against his face. Body scrunching up around his head, your thighs come together and you let out a hoarse moan as you convulse. Your cunt grips his fingers in a vise grip and white hot pleasure spreads through your body in a tingling wave.
Distantly, you can hear yourself moaning but you’re too caught up in it to care about how loud you’re being. L licks and sucks his way though your orgasm and as the pleasure starts to fade into oversensitive little shockwaves that make you shake and twitch away from the pressure of his hot wet mouth you notice the mattress is shaking. In rhythmic, shuddering motions the bed frame squeaks and you realise that at some point during your orgasm L has started humping the bed.
‘L- L come up-, come up here.’ You’re breathless in the aftermath of your orgasm, flopping your hand towards yourself, jelly-like, as you gesture for L to climb up the bed towards you. L pets a hand through your wet pubic hair like it's a cat as he sits up onto all fours. His cock is an angry red, bobbing beneath him as he licks his lips. He crawls up your body and flops on top of you. His cock bumps against the hot sticky flesh of your cunt and you jerk away, the stimulation being too much too soon. He readjusts it with one of his hands so it sits in the crease of your thigh instead. You giggle, feeling a little delirious off your orgasm.
L’s face swims into your vision; his usual wide-eyed stare is shuttered slightly with want, eyelids lowered yet still fixing you with the full intensity of his curiosity. He’s smiling like a puppy again, the look on his face being a mix of incredibly satisfied and deeply hungry. The whole lower half of his face is wet, and it strings up one of his cheeks and is clumping the edge of his eyelashes together. You say, ‘you’ve got a little something…’ And reach up to wipe the cum off his face. He grabs your wrist when you pull your hand back and sucks your thumb into his mouth, before bringing your hand back to his face. L uses your hand to wipe some of the wetness off around his mouth, then he sucks the cum off your fingers before bringing your hand back to his face and leaving it there. You take the hint and start wiping the rest of your slick off his face to feed it to him slowly. L smiles happily the whole time, nuzzling into your grip and chasing your fingers with his tongue when you pull them back; you can feel arousal starting to buzz behind your clit again, squirming your hips where you’re laid.
L leans over and kisses you. The movement of his lips against yours is heavy, laced with need and his hips make shuddering little humping movements against the crease of your thigh. ‘L,’ You breathe.
‘Bambi,’ He replies. You colour at the nickname, flush with heat because even though you just came on his face L still has the ability to make you nervous. Twitchy with want and need. Your hips tilt up into the pressure of his own as your clit twitches alongside your anticipation. He brushes his nose against yours sweetly and your heart melts slightly. Your cunt clenches in a want-need-give kind of way- you want him in you. You just have to open your mouth and tell him. ‘L- can- will- do you want- ?’ You try get the sentence out but your throat has swallowed your tongue and you don’t know how to get it back. You can feel the flush in your face spread, burning along to your ears and down your neck as you stutter, embarrassed.
‘Yes Bambi? What is it?’ L noses his way along your face, practically breathes the words into your ear with a low hum but you know the question is anything other than genuine. If he was actually curious he’d be looking at you. This man knows exactly what you want; he’s just enjoying watching you squirm. You know this because as soon as you opened your stuttering mouth, L had brushed his hand over your stomach and petted gently over the top of your clit, feeling it twitch in interest and your hips hitch up into the motion.
‘L,’ You draw out the syllable into a whine, rock your hips up to try entice him into fucking you without having to say it. L leans up on his elbows to watch your face, traces an invisible pattern over the curve of your cheeks and around your eyes, brushes his thumb over your mouth. ‘What is it, Bambi? What do you want?’
‘Please?’ You try. His breath ghosts over your face as he lays a gentle kiss against your forehead. You whine, high in the back of your throat in protest.
‘What? Is that not what you wanted?’ L sounds entirely sincere when he says it, enough so that you’d be tempted to believe him if it wasn’t for the way he’s started rubbing his cock in a burning hot line across the fat of your cunt. Shifting his hips in a slow rotation over the wetness steadily leaking from your drooling pussy and dragging it up in a hot burn over your clit.
You gasp wetly, rock your hips into L’s with a shudder and then cry out when he rudely leans back, pulls his cock away from your pussy with a grunt and sits up. You’re left reaching out for him, arms feeling empty now he’s no longer in them, hips rocking into nothing, tears pricking at your eyes from being denied again when you had him so close to you. L wraps a hand around his shiny wet cock, pulls his foreskin over the head of it in a slow, curling stroke.
‘You have to tell me what you want, Bambi. Otherwise how am I supposed to know? I’m not a mindreader after all.’
‘You know what I want!’ You’ve never felt more small than you do right now, close to throwing a tantrum you feel desperate. Desperate to please him, desperate to be filled, desperate enough to choke out, ‘L, please… Fuck me I need it.’ In a whiny voice while fighting back tears.
‘Well done, Bambi.’ L says. He speaks in the same monotone as usual but the words wash over you warmly anyway, you know him well enough by now to know L wouldn’t give the praise if he didn’t mean it. Almost as if to prove that point L crawls back over you and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. You sniffle back your tears and curl into the heat of his body lying over you. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him as close as you can.
L presses a kiss against the side of your temple, braces one arm by the side of your head and then reaches down to line himself up with the other. You shudder as you feel the hot head of his cock bump your entrance. The heat of it rubs a long line up and then down your cunt. You whine and cant your hips up into him pleadingly. He huffs out a hot breath, you feel it flutter your hair. L’s face tilts away from yours, preoccupied watching his cock rub over your clit. You turn your head to the side and kiss his elbow.
You can see the muscles in L’s arm working to keep him upright above you, see his tendons straining in the tense of his fist. His wiry build and athleticism never fails to surprise you even though you know he has to practise some kind of martial art from how easily he’s been tossing you around.
You hear L groan and his hips stutter as you feel the hot heavy pressure of his cock press against your entrance again, this time with purpose. Your pussy clenches in anticipation and your hips squirm forwards to meet him. Press yourself as close as possible, bear down with your hips where L’s lining up to meet you. The head of his cock catches and you feel your pussy pulse and try suck him in as the hot heat of his cock breaches you. The stretch is tantalising, delicious. The head of his cock head rubs over something hot and electric, back and forth just inside you as L’s hips rock slightly and you hear him moan, low in his throat above you.
You rub your nose against the sweaty crease of his arm before turning to look for his face. L looks divine above you, wide eyes narrowed with pleasure, forehead pinched and red mouth hanging open. His cock slides deeper within you and he pants heavy against your temple. You can feel the walls of your cunt stretch open, splitting around the thick line of his cock. L pulls out slightly and then rocks back in, fucking your cunt open with slow gentle grinds of his cock. The drag of it inside you burns deliciously, you rock your hips into the motion.
You whine, wrap an arm around L’s neck and tug to pull him in for a kiss and L collapses onto you with a grunt. The force of it sheaths the rest of his cock in your cunt in one swift motion and you throw your head back with a hoarse cry. L’s long body blankets yours, his shoulder is pressed up against your chin, arms bracketing your head, you can hear him panting roughly above your head. You’re so full. You feel like you’re going to break in the best possible way. L’s cock is a searing stretch of heat and thickness inside of you. You can’t stop squirming underneath him. Every press of his naked, sweaty body along the length of yours is electric.
L pants into your neck as he rocks his hips imperceptibly against yours. Little pulsing grinds. You hear him whine, feel it vibrate through his throat, high pitched as he forces his hips to a stop, trying to give you some time to adjust to the stretch of his cock. You crane your head back and press your lips against his jaw, you’re so close you could count his eyelashes, his eyes are screwed shut tight. He’s so cute.
You can only imagine what this feels like for him. Your cunt contracts hotly at the thought and you clench down on Ryuzaki’s cock unintentionally. He chokes. His hips make an aborted thrust against you, pressing his hips into you as firmly as he can, pushing your pussy to its limits and stretching you impossibly further. You can feel his cock grinding against your cervix. It feels so good. You moan, gasp his name and toss your head back.
L puffs out hot breaths against the top of your head, biceps flexing. He tries to pick himself back up off of you as tremors travel up his spine. You reach round his shoulders to pet at the back of his head, before combing your hands through the sweaty hair on the nap of his neck. L chokes out, ‘sorry,’ and lays a messy, open mouthed kiss against your temple. ‘Can I-‘ He groans and his lips slide wetly down your cheek; you think he’s drooling a little. ‘Can I move please?’
You thread your hand through hair at the back of L’s head and pull him up, the skin of his chest sticks slightly as it peels away from yours. His moan sounds like it’s punched out of his chest when you breathe out the word ‘yes’ against his lips. You pull your legs back up over his hips so they settle in the air behind the small of his back. The shift in position pulls your cunt tighter around L’s cock and you feel him rasp a groan against your lips as you whine at the feeling. Your clit twitches with electricity at the sound. His cock is so hot and heavy inside you, the stretch is delicious. Your hips rock subtly to grind his cock in against the deepest part of you; you need L to move and you need him to move now.
L’s fingers scramble for grasp over your shoulders and his grip tightens on you as he starts to rock his hips back and forth. The movement’s subtle, more of a pulsing grind than a thrust. You can feel your heartbeat in your clit, it thrumbs steadily and pulses in time with each inward press of his hips. L rests his forehead against yours, his breath ghosting over your face. You whine loudly, feeling the head of his cock grind against the deepest part of you repeatedly. The hot heavy weight of his cock stretches you out and you can feel your pussy flutter and swallow rhythmically around the solid feel of him. But you want more, you need more. You pant out, ‘L, L, fuck me.’
You feel rather than hear L groan and then he stops moving entirely. He presses his lips against yours shortly and you whine into his mouth, circle your hips to try entice him into moving. L moans, breath catching on your cheek and chest convulsing against yours before you feel him suck in air and lift his upper half off of you. You have to focus to hear what he’s muttering over your disappointed whine, ‘…considerably more vulgar.’ L’s hand strokes your sweaty hair back from your face and says, ‘I do think we’re going to enjoy our time together.’ He punctuates his sentence by pulling his hips back an inch and thrusting back in sharply.
You choke, as your head snaps back and you inhale sharply on a whine. Your legs bounce helplessly in the air behind his back and you feel your heels click just once before he stops moving again, returning to grinding his hips against yours in a circle. This movement only serves to frustrate you, rather than satisfy now that you’ve felt him move. L’s eyes are locked on your flushed face and you can’t help but think he’s only doing this to see what reactions you’ll give. As if you yourself are another experiment, something for him to toy with at ease and see what kind of response he can elicit from you.
You whine pleadingly and push back into L’s slow grinding, ‘L please, c’mon-
L leans down, whispers in your ear, ‘What? Fuck you?’ His breath is hot against your ear, ‘My cock is currently buried in your cunt. I am, by definition, fucking you..’ He’s being purposely obtuse. You know he is. Just as you think you’re gonna lose your mind with the way he’s teasing you, L presses his hips against you harder, before pulling out and pushing back in. His cock is a red hot heat inside you, you can feel it twitching as he moves, burning against something gooey deep inside you. Your pussy feels like it’s melting around him when he moves and you moan roughly; you need that feeling more than you need to breathe currently.
L chuckles breathlessly against your ear before leaning back, bracing himself over you on his arms as he starts to fuck you in short pulses. ‘Is this not enough?’ You whine and shake your head. Your face flushes and your eyes slip shut as the sensation overtakes you, it feels good.
‘What is it? Do you need more, Bambi? Does your greedy cunt want more of my cock?’ Fuck, L’s filthy. Your head is spinning with the switch-up from his usual dry wit to this. L pulls out of you almost fully, leaving just the tip of his cock inside, rubbing it back and forth teasingly. Your cunt spasms around him, desperately trying to suck him back in, ‘Answer me, Bambi. I have to know. Do you want- no, do you need more of my cock?’
‘L, I- please. I do, you know I do. Please. Give it to me.’ You rush out in one long whine, embarrassed but desperate enough to beg. You open your bleary eyes and he’s watching you with such a serious expression you flinch from it. L brushes a hand over your cheek and you realise you’re crying as he wipes away your tears. L raises his hand to his face and licks the tear off his hand. He reaches down and presses that same thumb to your clit, rubbing in slow circles as he starts to fuck his cock back into your cunt with short thrusts.
L’s staring down at you the whole time, analysing your facial expressions and you think maybe he was waiting for this, for you to look at him, for you to cry. Your cunt clenches and spasms around L’s cock and you see a smile flicker around the edges of his mouth. A shiver wraps itself around your spine and squeezes; it tingles out across your skin as the reality of L’s sadistic tendencies translating over into the bedroom hits you like a truck. He’s toying with you, and he’s enjoying every second of it.
You feel your clit twitch at the realisation and the loss of sensation, spark with electricity as L leans his arm back up beside your head and thrusts hard, lands his hips against your ass with a bruising sting, and turns your insides into melting goo with his cock. Your breath stutters out of your lungs in a desperate gasp. Your head tips back, L’s lips brush down your exposed neck and a shudder runs through you. You moan hoarsely, hips humping back against his thrusts. L bites down on your neck, sucks a bruise over the sharp marks left by his teeth. The pain laces through you in a quick thrill before licking around the edges of all the parts of you that feel good. You can’t keep your eyes open; the world is blurring with the pleasure licking up your spine.
You tip your head back down, feel the world squeeze into nothing more than L and his solid weight above you, the melting point of your insides wrapping around his cock, broiling with pleasure and you need him to kiss you right now. You search for his lip’s blindly. Your lips brush wetly across his cheek and L turns his head, licks into your mouth with fervour, his tongue brushing your own and the roof of your mouth. You feel like he’s sucking the air out your lungs, consuming you.
L’s hips are moving fluidly against your own now, elbows braced near your head, your feet bouncing helplessly in the air behind him as he thrusts. You grip his forearm with one hand, desperate for something to ground you as the pleasure threatens to sweep you away with it; L catches your hand with his own, links your fingers near your head. His cock feels like a searing line splitting you open. Like you might crack around it and dissolve into nothing but open nerve endings sparking with fire. Every thrust knocks the breath out your throat. The tip of his cock kisses you so sweetly deep inside. You kiss him back as best you can, messy, open mouthed and panting.
L fucks you sharply with shallow thrusts, and then slows down to deep, slow strokes before switching back. He’s alternating between rutting the head of his cock against your g-spot with pressure and brushing languidly over some deep part of your cunt that makes your hips twitch and your whole pussy feel like it’s on fire.
You moan with every thrust, little ‘uh, uh, uh,’’s as his hips meet yours. You suck L’s tongue into your mouth, his cock twitches deep inside you as you do, a moan bubbling up over his lips, spilling out from behind his teeth. His hips start to speed up, and you feel his whole body shudder as he struggles to slow them down again. You can’t stop squirming underneath him, hips humping back into his thrusts, gasping moans wetly against his lips, his every touch on your skin is electric. L pulls away from your mouth as you struggle to kiss him, and instead presses heavy, open mouthed kisses over your face.
You can feel the wet mess between you, squelching where you’re connected at the hips, your slick spilling out your drooling cunt around the thickness of his cock, his cock fucking it back in with an electric friction that runs up your spine and builds knots in your stomach, the friction between your pubic hair catching his, his stomach brushing over yours. Everytime your chest rubs against L’s, your breath catches on your moans, hiccuping slightly; you can hear him inhale sharply through his nose when your nipples brush. All of these sensations are building a broiling pressure behind your clit, tied to the intense line of burning fire his cock has turned your pussy into.
L rubs his spare hand roughly down your side and slides it between you, lands the tips of his long fingers against your clit. His hips stutter as he readjusts his rhythm to accommodate the new movement of his hand, fingers spelling messy circles against the top of your pussy and your clit. The movement of his fingers burn as your clit twitches desperately into the sensation, burning a hot heartbeat against the fingers. You need to come. It’s just barely in your grasp, sparkling around the edge of your vision as you stutter, ‘L- L, please I need-,’ You cut yourself off with a whine.
L’s panting hot against the side of your head and he groans as you manage to choke out, ‘hard-er, please, harder.’ His hips snap into yours with double the force, and you slide up the bed some before his hand disentangles from yours and clutches you around the shoulder, pulls you back towards him and keeping you there.
Your hips meet his heavily from the motion and you squeak in surprise between your moans, hands flailing until they settle on his shoulders. You hear L gasp out a shuddering laugh breathily above you. He’s groaning low in his throat as his hips piston against yours firmly. He reaches down between you again and his middle finger strokes lightly over the fat, wet tip of your twitching clit , you whine high pitched. Your heartbeat thunders behind your clit as it starts to pulse and clench to the staccato rhythm of your orgasm. Your hips rock haphazardly into the sensation as your legs start to tremble.
You can hear L’s moans punch out of his chest as your pussy clenches tight on his cock and you feel wet pleasure radiate up your spine. You struggle to keep your eyes open as sparks of pleasure blur your vision. Your pussy pulses hotly around L’s cock, spasming rhythmically, milking him. You can feel L’s cock twitch inside you as his chest collapses against you. He’s so heavy for someone so lean, you feel trapped under the weight of him, it sends your head spinning to think about, makes your cunt spasm as you lie there and take it. You’re unable to do anything else, L’s pinning you to the bed by your shoulders as his hips piston into you aggressively, drawing out the end of your orgasm.
You gasp and scrape your hands along his upper back, whole body rigid, back bowed off the bed as your hips spasm against his. L moans roughly against your ear and his hips stutter and pumps his cock into you harshly. Your breath catches in your throat, arms instinctively pushing against his chest where you’re pinned as you struggle and fail to squirm weakly out from underneath him. You feel your body spasm as liquid heat creeps up your spine and you feel something hot and wet release from your cunt in short pulses as you struggle to breathe. Did you just?- the thought barely registers as L swears gutterally, ‘fuck,’ and pulls you as close to him as you can get, slides your sticky hot body against his, one arm wrapping around your shoulders and the other around your head.
He’s completely on top of you now; your face is buried in his chest, nearly pressed into his hairy armpit as you mewl pathetically, choke around your own breath and try crawl away from the hot press of his cock. It feels too good, you can’t keep your eyes open, vision blurring as fat tears spill out of them and down your cheeks. The head of his cock rubs over and over a spot deep inside of you that makes your toes curl and your thighs shake.
You shout hoarsely as you’re tipped into another orgasm way too soon, your clit pulsing with near-painful shocks as you cum, shaking underneath L. The pleasurable waves are pain tipped as it ripples through you an electric pulse. Your mouth is caught open, lips ruby red and spit slicked rubbing against his chest as you drool around a long moan. Something rough brushes your face and you taste salt on your tongue.
L freezes above you, draws his hips back and then ruts forward, once, twice, three times, hard. His hips press tight against yours, rutting hard against you without pulling out, cock buried as deep in you as he can get as it twitches and you feel a hot liquid release inside you as he cums. L’s hips press hard against you one last time, thrust out just barely before slamming back in, then rock back and forth shallowly, groaning as he rides out his orgasm, you can feel it rumble through his chest above you.
You’re hiccuping around gasps, chest convulsing as L’s body loses tension above you. He levers himself off of you, arms shaking with the exertion, chest peeling back as L stares at you and a sob rattles free from your chest. Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, embarrassed, but L just leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead and brushes your sweat soaked hair back from your face. ‘Are you doing okay? Can I pull out?’ You nod, tuck your head down to hide your face as you feel his cock slide gently out of you and the flood of his cum that rushes out after.
L flops off of you, to the side and tugs you gently with him. The room feels far too open without L on top of you, you feel panic tug at your mind and settle against your neck but then the room shifts and you land haphazardly tucked against L as he leans your head against his chest with a loose arm. Your breathing starts to even out as you reconnect with L but you’re still crying. You feel his arm raise to pet lazily at your head and your harsh and heavy breaths slow in time to the rhythm of his chest rising and falling slowly against yours. ‘You okay, Bambi?’ He asks. You nod against his chest, tears still slipping down your face.
‘Need you.’ You mumble out. You try shunting yourself up the bed further, try to wriggle desperately your way into his space but your legs aren’t really cooperating. L leans into your clumsy touches, wraps his arms around you and pulls your wet sticky body to settle over his own. Tucks your head into his neck and allows your legs to settle between his own. ‘You sure? It wasn’t too much was it?’ L asks, brushing a thumb over your wet cheeks and you shake your head, relax into his hold and sigh contentedly at being there.
‘Was a lot. But it was good. Liked it.’ You mumble against his neck and you feel him nod against the top of your head, press a kiss against your hair after. L holds you against him, and you stay there content to just float until your eyes start to slide shut under the threat of sleep.
L’s hand rubs against your hip, you hum gently, too sleepy to really reply when you feel his hand slip down between your legs and swipe at the mess between them. ‘L!’ Your eyes snap open in shock. Your voice comes out in a feeble whisper-shout, voice hoarse from all the noise you made earlier. L draws his hand back sharply, looking for all intents like a chastised kid doing something he shouldn’t. You see him suck his fingers into his mouth as he says, ‘sorry’, without looking apologetic at all.
He glances down between your abused cunt and your face a couple times before he says, ‘I won’t be just a minute,’ and tipping you off of him. He doesn’t go far, just leans down to swipe his tongue through the mess between your legs. You shriek ‘L!’ jerk away from the sensation and reach down to grab him by his hair.
You try pull him up but he just moans low in his throat. His head pops up for a second as rests his chin on your pubic hair. L says, ‘I’ll be fast I swear,’ before leaning back down to clean up your pussy with his tongue. You can’t stop twitching, hips bucking incrementally against his face as you whine high pitched, ‘L, c’mon, fuck, stop. ‘S too much.’ L swipes his tongue against you one last time before chasing where his cum has leaked down across your thighs and ass. ‘L!’ You say sharply, put your hand against his face and try push him away that way.
‘Alright, alright.’ L sits back up between your legs, props his elbows up on your knees. His hair is sitting even wilder than usual, all mussed up at the back with long strands both sticking to his face and straight out from his head. He’s got this goofy looking grin on his face, a wide smile that you’ve never seen him make before. The most gleeful expression he’s worn in all your months of working with him having been the one he makes after teasing you. L sits back on his haunches and smacks his lips together before wiping his fingers around the edge of his mouth, sucking any residue off of them. You giggle breathlessly. He’s so weird and you cannot believe you like him so much. ‘Hey, L. You should come back up here.’ You pet the bed beside you and he says,
‘You should call me Ryuzaki now.’ before crawling up the bed. He sits about a foot away from you and you're about to be offended before he reaches over, grabs you underneath an armpit and a knee and uses sheer force to drag you in between his legs. You’re spluttering indignantly when he drops you on him, rolls you slightly to face him, chest pressed against his pubis, arms on either side of his soft stomach.
You raise yourself up and slap him gently on the belly, ‘Don’t just drag me. What the fuck- Ryuzaki!’
Ryuzaki looks pointedly at you and then over to where you were sitting, ‘You were in the wet spot.’ He shrugs before placing his hands under your arms again. He sighs, longsuffering, ‘but if you want to stay there… I could always…’ You wiggle and squeal away from his grip, not missing the mischief in his voice that signalled he was seriously about to pick you up and drop you back into your combined mess of bodily fluids.
‘Okay! Okay! I surrender.’ L removes his hands from your armpits.
‘...does that mean I can eat your pussy again?’ He asks, and you feel before you see him starting to loom over you with a sparkle in his eyes. You feel your clit twitch with a sharp zing at his expression and it's just painful enough that you cringe and shake your head ‘no’ as fast as you can. Ryuzaki huffs and leans back petulantly, but he starts drawing patterns on your shoulder blades with his finger tips so you imagine he can’t be too upset.
You lean your head back against his stomach. ‘...So, why Ryuzaki now? And L before?’
You feel Ryuzaki shrug as he says simply, ‘detective kink.’ He leans back across the bed to reach for a little cake out of several sweet treats he has littering his bedside table.
You slap his bent leg beside you and say, ‘you do not!’
‘Owww…’ Ryuzaki sounds petulant again even though his mouth is full. ‘Stop hitting me.’ He says. He’s rubbing the part of his leg you slapped with his free hand. Oh, so he is actually upset. You didn’t expect that. You say, ‘Oh. Sorry.’ And lean over to press an apologetic kiss to the area. ‘I’ll stop, don’t worry.’ You lean up on one arm to look him in the eyes. ‘But seriously. Why Ryuzaki now and L before?’ L puts half the cake down, leans down and presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.
‘I told you. Detective kink.’ You can tell from the gleam in his eyes he’s fucking with you. And that you’re not gonna get a clearer answer out of him anytime soon. Possibly just because he’s an ass but possibly because of Kira. You narrow your eyes and him and huff frustratedly into his belly. You feel his stomach move, and hear him laugh somewhere above you, and you think that maybe all the stress is worth it if you get to have this. You’re hiding your smile against Ryuzaki’s tummy when you feel him start to stroke his fingers through your hair.
‘...Hey Ryuzaki?’
‘Mmm?’ He hums softly in response.
‘I really like you, y’know.’ L’s hands pause in running through your hair briefly before they start moving again.
‘I really like you too.’ He sounds softer than usual, ‘Although I can’t say it’s been good for our investigation, on a personal note, I have to say I am really rather pleased with how things have turned out.’
You snarfle a laugh into his hip, ‘Well I can’t say you’re wrong there. But… hopefully I’ll be less distracted now.’
You hear him laugh in response above you, ‘That or you’ll be more distracted. Safe to say I’ll be more distracted…’ He trails off and you can near hear the cogs in his head turning, ‘Maybe this was a bad idea. What if neither of us can focus on the investigation now?’ Ryuzaki doesn’t sound panicked, more like he’s mulling the idea over in his mind. ‘Hmm, we might need to work in separate rooms from now on.’ He sounds serious and you huff out a laugh in response.
‘I doubt it’ll come to that Ryuzaki. I promise I can keep it in my pants long enough for us to get some work done, or, at least I’ll be able to now that we’re doing this in our down time... Wait, we are going to keep doing this, right? I don’t think I can stop after just once.’ You snap your head up to look at him, panicked, and are startled to be caught in the overwhelming sincerity of his gaze.
L brushes his hand softly across your forehead before settling to hold your face softly.
He says, ‘You have absolutely no idea just how tantalising I find you, do you? I’m not worried about you ‘keeping it in your pants’. You’ve shown profound restraint so far.’ He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, gaze drawn to it, ‘Just once?’ His eyes flick back up to meet yours and you shudder at the look in them as he says, ‘We’ve got the rest of the night to fill after you’ve recovered, and if I was any less dedicated to bringing Kira to justice I would ring each of our coworkers individually to tell them to take tomorrow off.’ He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your temple, ‘‘Just once.’’ Ryuzaki snorts a laugh through his nose and then leans forward to kiss you gently.
‘Rest up.’ He says.’ He twists around again and takes the rest of the cake he had been eating and holds it up to your lips. You take the offered morsel. He guides your head to lay back down on him, ‘We’ve got a full night ahead of us.’ A shiver works its way up your spine before you sigh and close your eyes, resolving to get at least a little rest before things start to work up again. Because if you can trust Ryuzaki with anything, it’s that he follows through with his plans.
Put the World on the Demolition Strip Baby; We're Gonna Watch the Sunrise. (they/them ver) (NSFW)
Looking for the he/him version?
Ao3 link! - Put the World on the Demolition Strip Baby; We're Gonna Watch the Sunrise.
MINORS PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG OR COMMENT. (This is my new writing blog! This is not stolen content! I've just moved!)
Summary:
Ronin’s sat above you, weight resting heavy over one of your thighs with his hands braced near your head, dark red-purple hair falling in heavy strands around your face. There’s blood on his cheek, smudged. It’s not his own. You want to lick it off him. You can feel the weight of his crowbar creasing a heavy dent on the pillow above your head. It should scare you. To know that your boyfriend is a vicious murderer. That his favourite murder weapon of choice is resting so close to you. You can smell the blood on it, have been able to since you opened the bag, since he walked in with it. It only serves to rile you up more. Your hips twitch upwards in tiny little humping movements. Ronin's grinning so wide it almost splits his face. God, there must be something wrong with you to want this so much.
OR,
todays the day you get intimately acquainted with Ronin's crowbar.
12,215 words :)
Pronouns & genital terms used!:
Ronin- he/him, cock, cunt
Reader- they/them, clit, pussy, cunt, entrance
CW/TW under cut! THIS IS DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT CONTENT. READ THE CW, HEED THE CW; IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT!
CW: D/S dynamics, sex, power imbalances, blood (not period), some dysphoria talk relating to bottom growth (dw we resolve it, no unresolved trans angst in my porn nuh-uh), uh Ronin being gross and reader being unapologetically into it.
TW: unhealthy relationship dynamics? (like don’t actually date a serial killer that shit CANNOT be good for you) blood, BLOOD, murder mentions, deranged thinking, inappropriate use of a crowbar, complete ignorance of blood borne pathogens and safe sex, uhhhh sexy murder talk, also MAD sexualisation of murder and serial killing throughout the whole thing
Also, ik ronin’s technically had both top n bottom surgery in like the quasi-canon of tumblr facts but i am currently horny for bottom growth and tdicks so TRY AND STOP ME YOU CANNOT MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
××××××××××
You already knew your boyfriend was a killer. Had known since you joined that damn chat server, way before you met him in person, but this is the first time you’ve seen the evidence first hand. As something more than just a news article or a ‘funny’ photograph dumped in #killer-shit by Ronin himself. …You didn't expect to find it so thrilling.
You’d always told yourself you were okay with it. That you would learn to be okay with it. Hells, you met Ronin for the first time in the alleyway he likes to commit his murders in, it's not like you could claim ignorance.
He'd been covered in blood then too, but you'd brushed past it. Told yourself it was his own. That Ronin's nose was bleeding when you met him. That's where the blood was from. That you were a good person and you could save him. Fix him. Told yourself that you wanted to. You had to, right? Never mind that you only decided all this after you’d gotten home, heart racing with adrenaline from your little meetup, telling yourself that the throbbing in your clit was from ‘misattribution of arousal’ and not how electric it had felt to have Ronin kiss you in the place he normally kills people.
Still, you've never been able to crush the niggling little worry that when you come face to face with it, when you are finally confronted with evidence so overwhelming that you can deny it no longer, that you’d balk. Turn tail and run for the hills because as much as you love your boyfriend- you are no killer. You can’t even really stomach the sight of blood. Normally it makes you sick and queasy. So you avoid it; as much as you can, you dodge and drop the topic like it’s on fire and you’re out of water so you have to avoid getting burned.
Ronin seems to have more faith in you though. Whether it stems from your unwavering addiction devotion to his devilish persona, or from the glassy eyed stare you gave him that day in Purgatory when he brought out his knife. How you didn’t even flinch when he pressed it to your throat, just stared into his wild, wicked eyes and whispered, ‘so are you kissing me now, or after? I have to say I’d much prefer now.’
That had Ronin cracking up. He’d lowered the knife in favour of clutching his knees, bent over double as a wild cackle ripped free from his throat. When he finally stopped laughing enough to speak he'd said, ‘I, a certified serial killer, the butcher, the devil himself, just threatened your life and you’re asking me to kiss you? Awh baby, darlin’. I’ve thought as much before, but now I’m certain that we’re a match made in hell.’ Ronin had then crowded you into the wall, gently pressed the knife into your hands, cupped your face and kissed you. It’d taken your breath away. Still does to think about it.
You could have killed him then. Probably should of. It's what he was suggesting when he handed you the knife; giving you an out if you really were somehow bluffing. That was Ronin through and through; impossibly kind in the most deranged possible manner. And you loved him.
But the thought had crossed your mind, once or twice. That maybe you weren't built for this. For him. You can’t look at the news articles he posts in announcements, or the photos in #killer-shit, or watch scary movies with him without crying and screaming at the tension, the jumpscares, and the gore. Always trying to hide in the fabric of his shirt, behind his jacket, hands pressed tight over your ears to block out the sounds. You’re pretty sure the only reason Ronin’s okay with it is that he finds your innocence endearing, cute even, and your tears hot. Proven by how he forces you to sit still afterwards, both hands gripping your face tight so you can’t back away from him as he looms above you, blocking out the light from the television so all you can see is him. Vision filled with his devilish beauty; his face twisting in a mock version of pity as he traces the path your tears took with his fingers.
The television behind Ronin serving to make him look like a fallen angel by Christening him with a halo of blue light, spilling out from behind the little plastic horns glued to his beanie. He’d be sickened by the thought. Ronin leaning in and licking the tears off your face. Shushing you softly and rubbing his thumb over your lip when you open your mouth to ask why? You don’t get it.
But Ronin fucks you so sweetly when he’s done. You think it’s a prize for withstanding the horror, his horror. That, or it turns him when you let him push you so close to the edge, let him make you cry and tremble with fear before soothing it away with the thick line of his cock. He always lets you curl into his chest afterwards, rocks you to sleep while reciting odd, esoteric poetry from the depths of his mind that you think might be about how much he loves you. You hope.
But you do worry- or, you did worry, that one day Ronin would come home to you while covered in proof that he was out hunting more than just animals, or that one day you would read the wrong article about him, or that someone would tell you about a gruesome murder done by none other than the ‘devilish butcher’, and you’d never be able to look at him the same again. That the room wouldn’t light up around his smile anymore. Instead it would seep sinister into your dreams and invade the cracks in your head with its polluting light and then you would have to leave. Quietly. Unable to face the man you love and tell him you’ve finally realised what he’s been telling you all along: that he’s a monster.
Well, that day is today. You heard Ronin leave early this morning, slide out of bed while it was still dark, too dark for him to be leaving for work, despite your whining and pleading for ‘five more minutes’. Telling him, ‘nooooo ‘Nin, cuddles,’ when Ronin chuckled and said he had work to do. You’d drifted grumpily back into a half sleep when you felt a gloved hand brush over your forehead before Ronin stooped to press a gentle kiss there.
‘I’ll be back real soon, darlin’. Keep dreaming of me while I’m gone.’ You’d opened your eyes blearily to catch sight of him leaving, dressed all in black with a mask pulled up over his mouth and nose. Ronin had waved his crowbar at you merrily before tucking it in his coat and under his arm and strutting jauntily out the door. You’d thought he looked like an angel then too. Not that you’d ever tell him that. It wasn’t until sometime later, after you’d woken up properly and had some time to think about it, that you realised this was the first confirmed time you’d seen him leave to go kill someone.
You’d seen him after he’d killed plenty of times before, when he was still loopy and ecstatic from the thrill and the rush, but the perks of not living together fully yet had meant it was usually after he’d showered. And while he was one to brag, he never seemed to go into specifics, at least not with you. He was usually more preoccupied with bedding you anyways. Excitement leaking into his movements as he’d throw you onto the bed, grin at your outraged squeaks and then shut you up by rutting his thick cock against your mouth until he was satisfied.
But this time, this time is different. This time you know where he’s going, what he’s doing. And you’re just sitting around his apartment, docile, waiting for him to come back. Drinking tea and making breakfast like nothing is different. And maybe it isn’t. It certainly doesn’t feel different. That’s what you’re convincing yourself anyways. Until Ronin opens the door with a slam and struts in, whistling. You don’t jump like you usually do, a phased calm shifting over you when you see him, like you’re settled in your own skin for the first time in your life; like you didn’t even realise something was wrong until suddenly it wasn’t.
Black backpack in one hand, Ronin is conspicuously free of both his gloves, his mask and his crowbar. He almost looks normal when he sees you, but his eyes are wild when you make eye contact. You freeze in place, standing off the side of his kitchenette after placing your dishes in the sink. Ronin’s grin is feral, laced with something evil and you should be scared. You want to be scared as his eyes scan up and down your body, dressed only in one of his worn out oversized sleep shirts; Ronin looks upon you like prey and you shiver.
There’s blood on his face. Just a trickle by his mouth, obscure and miniscule enough it could be his own but you can’t deny it any more. It’s not his. It's someone else’s. Someone he’s killed. Your boyfriend is a killer. A stone cold killer, for the sick, sick thrill. Your legs feel weak and your head spins with how quickly all the blood in your body rushes south, at the thought of how dangerous he is. Your clit twitches in anticipation as if to say ‘hello Ronin, darling. How I've missed you.’
‘Hey there darlin’. Got you all pavlov’d up for me, huh baby?’ Ronin’s eyes are dark with delight as they flick from your face to where you're fidgeting and rubbing your thighs together to try alleviate the heavy ache in your clit. ‘Just can’t wait to have my cock split open those pretty little folds of yours, can you? Well, too bad. You’ll have to be patient while I put this away first, but then I’m all yours darlin’.’ Ronin winks at you comically. You don't laugh, you can’t.
Ronin gestures with the bag to show you what he’s talking about and the word, ‘Don’t.’ slips out your mouth before you can think to stop it. He raises an eyebrow at you.
‘What’s got my sweet little saint all riled up today?’ Ronin’s looking at you with curiosity on his face, clearly expecting an answer but you don't have one. You barely have any thoughts at all other than the raging need to see it, to see proof with your own eyes.
You get to your feet with your pulse racing and your hands numb and tingling. It feels like all the blood in your body is in your head. Or your feet. Or your cunt. It thrumbs heartily with every step you take towards him. The excitement and thrill starts to slip off Ronin’s face and he’s watching you with a calculating look, like he knows today's the day. It softens slightly when you slip one hand into his, press a soft kiss to his lips and gently take the bag from him with your other hand.
The bag’s heavier than it looks, and it should repulse you- the thought that there’s a murder weapon in here, a heavy metal crowbar stained with blood. Someone else's blood. The weight of it should spring a sick dose of reality to the forefront of your mind but as you kneel before the bag and slowly unzip it all you can picture is how strong Ronin is to be able to swing such a heavy implement at someone accurately and with ease. How he'd look in the moment. The strong lines of his shoulder and back, the tension in his arms and the ecstatic- no, the crazed expression he must have as he swings the crowbar above his head and brings it down again and again with one sick crunch after another.
You feel like you can't get enough air though you're breathing heavier than you should be. Your face is aflame and it’s making you dizzy. You shove the sides of the backpack down with shaking hands, and it’s there. Wrapped in a white plastic bag, you can see the thick outline of the metal and the blood that’s pooling in the folds and creases of the bag around it. You reach out to peel the plastic back but a hand catches you by the chin, and turns your head to face him: Ronin. Your God. Your devil.
Ronin’s taken his jacket off, kneeling on one knee as he looks at you with curiosity and stress on his face. Like he’s equally fascinated and worried by your reaction. That is, until he catches sight of your blown pupils and open mouth, watches the way your eyes race across his features, between his brown eyes and soft lips. Darting down to trace the line of his body, your gaze flickers back and forth between his strong arms, the slope of his pecs, and the crease in his trousers hiding the bulge of his cock. You lick your lips, mouth startlingly dry.
Ronin’s face cracks into a wide grin, eyes starting to relight with the fire from his kill, ‘Well hello there, lost little lamb. Are you in need of a Shepherd? Or ‘ve you finally found what you’ve been lookin’ for?’ His gaze lands on the bag and you look at it, mouth dry, and then look at him, like you’re waiting for permission, his permission. Ronin raises his brows at you, delighted grin on his features, tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth, challenging you.
You turn back to the bag, are just reaching in it when you feel the heavy weight of your boyfriend settle itself along your back. His head rests in the crook of your neck, content to just watch as his hands stroke lightly up and down the sides of your stomach.
Your hands are shaking as you reach in the bag, gently peel back the plastic. The bag sticks to itself in the places there's blood pooling. The blood gets on your hands as you unwrap it. It's wet. And cold. Did you want it to be warm? Hot with life? Spurting from a still beating heart in a steady wet, hot pump? You shudder, full bodied and Ronin cackles, delighted by your reaction, beside your ear, leaning in to press a kiss against your cheek as you slide your fingers under the crowbar, feeling the heavy weight of it.
‘You like it, baby? You feel it? You like me?’ One of Ronin’s hands slides down to press against the front of your crotch and you gasp, hips rutting up into the feeling. Ronin inhales sharply, you feel it against your temple. ‘Awh, baby. Darlin’. Fucking knew it. Knew you wanted this since that day in Purgatory, before that, even. Might have been able to hide it from everyone else with your little ‘innocent lamb’ act but I knew you wanted more the second you entered the slaughterhouse and didn’t run screaming for the hills. You’re a sick, sick pervert huh?’
Ronin huffs a laugh against your temple and you want to say something, anything to deny it, deny him, but your hips are humping up against his hand in these minute, fricative little pulses you can’t quite control and you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life. You squirm in his arms. Ronin slides his hand down, large fingers pressing firmly against the soaked seat of your underwear, rocking them back and forth gently until his middle finger settles between your folds, presses a delicious friction up against your clit.
‘Just had to bring it out in you, didn’t I darlin’? You needed the devil to come along and corrupt your sweet little aorta so you wouldn’t have to take the blame, wouldn’t have to admit that you like this. That you want this, almost as much as you want me. Isn’t that right, baby?’ Ronin’s voice is barely a whisper but you hear every word loud and clear. Your face burns and your pussy is throbbing with need.
You whimper, high pitched in your throat and Ronin shushes you, presses a gentle kiss to your fluttering eyelid. ‘Shhhh, don’t you worry, darlin’. I’ll take all the blame this time. Now, let the devil take you on down to hell.’ Ronin is going to be the death of you. You moan low in your throat and press your cunt harder against his hand, he rubs slow circles over your clit with the top of his palm, presses two fingers firmly over your entrance and rubs them over it.
Your fingers grasp shut on the thick, cold, hard metal of the crowbar. It’s positively wet with blood. Ronin laughs by your ear again, a high pitched giggle you’ve never heard him make before. It sounds exactly as deranged as his usual cackling laugh. You turn your head to look at him, nose brushing his face you’re so close and he says, ‘watch’ as he slides his hands to cover your own. The one that was down your pants is sticky and wet where it lays over the back of your hand. Your breath stutters at the loss of friction against your pussy. Ronin presses a kiss against the side of your eye. ‘Patience, baby. Patience. Good things come to those who wait, don’t ‘cha know?’ He laughs again, a light huff of breath ghosting over your eyelashes. You’re not sure if it's directed at you or his own words. You really don’t care.
Ronin turns one of your hands over. Adjusts your grip so you have one hand wrapped tight around the bottom of the crowbar and the other supporting slightly above it. You feel lightheaded. Ronin’s hands are wrapped tight over yours as he lifts them up, raises them up beside your head, as if you’re going to- as if you could- ‘Ready, darlin’?’ Ronin asks, voice a sickly low drawl. You can feel your clit twitching a steady one-two. Thumping away with your heartbeat in your underwear. You swallow thickly. Ronin tightens his grip over yours, then resettles and rests more of his weight against your back.
It feels like he’s everywhere. You can’t think. You can only imagine how hard he must be. Cock twitching away in his underwear. You think of him fucking you. You think of fucking him. His face as he moans. You think of the crowbar pressed tight across your throat, the wild grin on Ronins face as he’d watch the light slip from your eyes; if he would stop before it was too late.
‘I asked you a question darlin’.’
You can’t look away from your tight grip on the crowbar. Your hands, wet and sticky with blood, seeping between your fingers and dribbling down over your knuckles. The vivid red colour smudging underneath Ronin’s tight grip over your hands. You don’t think you’re breathing. You nod, minutely, fractured, frantically. Unable or unwilling to make a bigger move lest it wretch your sight from where you need it.
You feel the tension in your boyfriend's arms as they pull back slightly, the thickness of his muscles as they recoil and, ‘Whoosh! Ha-ha!’, let go. Your arms swing forwards, the motion contained and precise, using only the exact needed strength and precision to knock the now empty backpack straight into the wall. A whimper leaves your throat, high pitched and strangled. The feeling- when the swing connected, the contraction of Ronin’s muscular arms around you, how powerful the blow had felt. You’re gonna pass out. The jolt of electricity you feel in your clit almost hurts. Your hips rock down, seeking friction that isn’t there.
‘Ronin.’ It comes out gasped, guttural, full of want and need.
‘Yeah. You like it, baby? You like me, huh? In all my grotesque delight?’ Ronin presses his grin to your cheek; you’re sure it would be a kiss if he could stop smiling. ‘Sweet little thing finally realised they’re dating The Butcher? Also known as The Devil Himself, darlin’.’ Ronin’s nosing against your face as he says this, you can feel his wicked smile brushing your cheek as he does. You lean back against him, squirming, trying to rub yourself against him or turn around to see him, but Ronin tightens his grip on your hands, brings your focus back to the crowbar and says, ‘ah-ah-ah, we’re not quite done yet baby. How about… some target practice?’
Ronin lets go of your hands, slides out from behind you and saunters into the kitchen.
He flashes you a winning smile before slamming open one of the kitchen cupboards with a bang. Ronin watches you for your reaction; always does when he pulls shit like this, but you barely even notice the noise. Hands limp around the crowbar, it rests heavy against your thighs, leaving bloody red smudges on them. Your eyes are fixated instead on Ronin’s broad shoulders. How the blood on his hands is leaving smudges against the white cupboard doors.
You’re so weak in the knees about it- about him, that when Ronin waves you over to the kitchen counter while setting a series of increasingly ugly mugs against its edge, you forget about the crowbar and stumble as the weight of it pulls you forward. Your knees buckle beneath you, and you land sprawled out on the carpet. You hear Ronin laugh from somewhere above you while you’re still staring at the carpet in shock. You watch as his spiked shoes stride slowly into view. When Ronin bends at the waist and his face swims into your vision, he’s wearing the same twisted version of faux-pity he wears after you’ve white-knuckled it through a horror movie with him.
‘Awh, sweetheart… Somebody’s desperate. You just can’t get enough of me, can you?’ He boops his knuckle against your cheeks and then your nose. Embarrassment floods through you, tinting your face red. You should be affronted. Humiliated. Or maybe some shade of afraid, but it’s hard to be with your sweet, loving, murderous boyfriend leaning over you with an entirely fond look on his face. Eyes alight like you’re what he’s been waiting for since the dawn of time, or, since the birth of Lucifer. Arousal curls hotly around your spine and joins the rutting, swirling mess in your gut. The sticky, wet-hot mess in your panties. The thought swims through your mind that you could come from just this; him standing over you, mocking you so sweetly. Maybe if he put the sole of his boot against your clit then…
‘R-Ronin…’
Ronin puts a hand behind his ear, tilts his head towards you in an over-exaggerated pretence of listening, ‘What’s that, sweetheart?’ You swallow, mouth dry.
‘Ronin.’
‘One more time, say my name, darlin’.’ It’s obvious he’s teasing you. Has been since the very start, but then an idea strikes you, and you can’t not.
‘Butcher.’ Falls from your lips, breathless and Ronin groans. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged it out loud. He turns his upper body away from you for a second, running his hand through his hair. His beanie falls off and hits the lino behind him with a clatter but neither of you turn to look at it. There’s blood in his hair when he faces you again. Sticking strands of it together as it falls back in his face and the look on it, half-pained, half-giddy, flushed red high on his cheekbones.
‘What you do to me, darlin’. Flesh ‘n’ bone pretty, I told you.’ It comes out choked, less drawled than usual and your heartbeat skips a wicked step to be having an effect on him too.
‘Still, we should save that for after. C’mere, upsy daisies.’ Ronin says as he tucks his hands under your armpits and drags you to stand on your wobbly legs. Holy shit your boyfriend is strong.
You leave the crowbar on the floor. Have no choice but to. You crowd into Ronin’s space as soon as you’re able, put your hands on his neck, his cheeks, follow the action by pressing kisses to the blood left behind by your hands. Ronin laughs the whole time, and he’s beautiful. He puts his hands on your hips and pulls you into him. Catches you in a blinding, tummy fluttering, pussy burning kiss. One hand gripped tight on the back of your neck, the other tugs at the front of your panties until they slip up between your pussy lips.
‘Roniinnn.’ You whine. He presses wet, hot kisses down your neck like a trail of fire.
‘What? You don’t like it? I think you look rather… ravishing, like this. Could just devour you like this.’ Ronin tugs on your underwear again and again and it pulls tight around your clit, you moan in stuttering little breaths at the friction. ‘Sounds like you do.’ Ronin groans, kisses open mouthed at your neck. You shake your head, movement restricted by his tight grip on the back of your neck, his lips slide wetly against your skin. Ronin bares his teeth against your neck, not biting, but warning, and you freeze. ‘I think you do~’ Ronin murmurs, singsong. He uses his grip on the back of your neck to make you nod. You’ve never been more turned on and more embarrassed at the same time.
‘No?’ Ronin pulls away from your neck to look you in the eye. Your face is burning with shame. You shake your head minutely, unable to hold eye contact with him as you lie. ‘Shame.’ Ronin mutters. He nips at your neck with his teeth, if it felt anything other than good you’d think it’s punishment for lying to him. He presses an open mouthed, wet kiss against it after, laves his tongue over it like he’s apologising but you know he’s just enjoying tasting the bruise.
Ronin then yanks your underwear down your legs in one smooth motion, and pulls away to lead you to the counter with his fingers linked through yours. He pauses briefly, stooping down to pick up the crowbar at your feet. ‘Can’t forget this now can we?’ He waves it at you cheekily. ‘Alright,’ Ronin looks over his shoulder at you, ‘C’mere darlin’, I don’t bite.’
That’s a bold faced lie; Ronin does bite, the bastard, but you shuffle up behind him anyways. Wrap your arms around him and attempt to peak over his shoulder but you’re too short. You can just sort of make out his hands as he lines up ugly mug after ugly mug.
‘Not pugsley!’ You gasp. Pugsley is a truly horrific, yellow, pug-faced, square shaped mug with an inside lip that creates a circle rim. You got it at a yard sale. It’s impossible to drink out of. At some point Ronin superglued googly eyes over the pugs' own to create this truly awful 3D effect. You both delight in serving the other beverages in it at seemingly random moments, hoping to catch the other off guard and startle them into laughter. The rule being that if you laugh then you have to drink out of it. Which is impossible, and usually a hilarious speedrun of how fast one person can spill a drink down themselves. Ronin gets you more than you get him, but the few memorable moments where you caught him off guard enough to succeed are more than worth it.
Ronin laughs, ‘Alright, alright. Not pugsley.’ You’re sure he only put him in the lineup to start with to get a reaction out of you. He puts his fingers on the top of the mug and sends it sliding towards the sink. It falls in with a clatter. You hope it didn’t break.
Ronin lines up four mugs, one in front, three behind, and places the crowbar down beside them. It sticks briefly to his hands where the blood is starting to dry. You watch his skin peel away from it with your heart in your throat. ‘Now come here.’ Ronin grabs you from behind him and pulls you round in front of him.
‘What are we doing?’ Your clit still feels heavy and hot and present between your legs and you think that there are other things you’d much rather be doing with your boyfriend at this very second.
‘I told you darlin’. Target practice.’ Ronin waves a hand fluidly as the scene in front of him. Oh. So that’s what he was doing. You consider complaining, putting it off and dragging your boyfriend to bed but if it’s target practice, if he’s teaching you, then surely you’ll get to see him swing his crowbar at least once. That’s not something you can gloss over and pretend you don’t want, because oh boy do you want. Plus, the rewards for playing along with whatever challenge Ronin sets for you that day tend to be on the more generous side, and you really want to see what his sick mind cooks up for you this time. Your pussy will survive this brief pause.
‘Usually I prefer my targets a little more… alive. But, I’ll make an exception. For you, this once.’ The look Ronin gives you is playful, but you can’t be sure if he means it. There’s as much chance that the next time Ronin lets you touch his crowbar may be as contingent on the idea of you killing someone as it’s not. The thought sends a sick, desperate thrill down your spine.
Ronin guides you in front of him, hands on your waist, ‘Feet shoulder width apart.’ His voice is a mocking drawl. You do it anyway. ‘Good job baby!’ He’s talking down to you, like you’re a child. It shouldn’t turn you on but it does. You shudder in response. Ronin wraps his arms around you, over your shoulders. Dances his fingertips down your arms to settle them over your hands. He wraps them around the crowbar, tight and draws both your arms back.
‘You wanna bend your knees, be about thiiiss far away from your target,’ He measures the distance between you and the counter with his arm, then reapplies his grip over yours. He slides your top hand down towards the bottom, ‘And keep a good, tight grip, just like that, but you don’t wanna grip it too high. You’ll catch your hand in the swing and soften the blow. Can’t crack any skulls when you’re pullin’ your punches now can ya’, darlin’?’
Ronin demonstrates the swing trajectory a few times, pulling your hands through the motions to practice. You’re nervous, heart racing like this is the real thing. Your hands dip slightly when Ronin lets go and steps back, the crowbar is heavy and the full weight of it pulls them down slightly. You’re struck once again with awe over how strong Ronin is.
‘Try line up your shot first.’ Ronin’s hand presses against the small of your back when you don’t move. You breathe in slowly through your nose, then exhale through your mouth. You hear Ronin take a few steps back. You line the curved tip of the crowbar up with the mug, practice your shot, once, twice, pull back and then swing. The mug explodes when the crowbar connects with it. You see it in slow motion. The pieces fly everywhere. You stumble as the weight of the crowbar and the momentum of the swing pull you along with it before Ronin’s arms catch you around your waist and keep you from falling.
You giggle hysterically when the world catches back up to you and you’re held safely in your boyfriend’s arms, crowbar held stiffly and awkwardly out in front of you. Your elbows ache slightly. You lean your head back against Ronin’s shoulder to see his face in all its beauty. His eyes are dark as he looks at you and all you can think is how much you love him. How much you want him. You’re maybe a little high off the thrill. The rush. This is a murder weapon. Your boyfriend’s murder weapon. It’s been used to kill people. Your boyfriend kills people. Your pussy flutters back to life now that the pressure is off. You did good. You feel good. You try rubbing your thighs together to get some friction against your clit.
‘Good job, baby.’ This one isn’t mocking, it’s entirely sincere and you squirm under the weight of it. Ronin doesn’t give direct compliments easy. He presses a kiss to your temple and laughs loudly, ‘I’ll make a murderer out of you yet.’ It’s something Ronin says to you often, and you usually laugh it off, brushing it under the rug of ‘usual Ronin antics’, but, maybe he’s been serious this whole time. The thought makes you gulp. Your pussy is drooling between your thighs. Leaving sticky wet marks between them.
‘What? You didn’t think I was joking, did’ja?’ Ronin’s eyes are twinkling with delight as he says it and your mouth runs dry. Oh shit. He wasn’t joking. ‘Now, watch me work!’ Ronin steps back from you slowly, making sure you’re not too loopy and dazed to stand on your own before prying the crowbar from your frozen fingers and dancing around you to line up another mug.
‘Step back baby. Don’t want to hit ya’. Least, not yet.’ You laugh at his teasing. For all Ronin’s threats of killing you, you know he’d miss you far too much. Or, miss the prospect of killing you after the rush fades. You think you’re okay with either. As long as it keeps you alive and in his arms.
‘What about my target practice?’ You say, Ronin looks down pointedly at your hands, they’re shaking. The blood that’s transferred from the crowbar is starting to dry and flake off around your fingers. You can’t help but feel a little… disappointed. You tuck them behind your back. Ronin is watching you silently. When you look up he flashes you a cheesy grin and waves his crowbar in a little circle like he’s saying ‘batter up!’ He’s already put all three remaining mugs in a little row on the edge of the counter.
You’re waiting for him to line up his shot when crack. Ronin’s arms shoot out and hit the first mug dead centre and you’re struck by what a vision your boyfriend is. Ceramic shattering to dust in front of him, the long line of his arms held out, wielding his crowbar with finesse and ease like it’s a part of him. An extension. Crack. The wild glee lighting up his face as he pulls his arms back and cackles, head tipping back with the laugh and then forwards again to face his target, the deadly serious look in his eyes as he locks in on the next mug, his hair falling in his eyes, tendrils sticky and wet looking with the drying blood. Crack. Your own bloody handprints littering his face and neck. He looks divine. Saint like. You would kill for him, you realise with a start. You will kill for him. Some day. Maybe soon.
‘’Nin…’ You say. Ronin looks over at you.
‘What is it, baby? Do you need me? Am I making you weak in the knees?’ Ronin reaches out and taps the end of his crowbar against the back of your knee lightly. You stumble slightly and his smile widens slowly. Like a predator circling his prey, Ronin stalks up close to you, breathes himself into your space, tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. ‘Gonna fall head over heels for me again?’ His grin is shit-eating. Your pussy clenches hotly in response.
‘’Nin, I need you.’ Your hands grasp at the front of his shirt, creasing it into tight little folds between your fingers. All the heat and want and desire from before flares back into life in the pit of your stomach.
‘Need me, need me. Bet’cha wanna please me. Ain’t that right, baby? Am I your God or am I your God?’
It should be embarrassing, how fast you drop to your knees. Nuzzle your face into his crotch where you know his cock is hiding. But you’re dizzy with want. Your whole cunt is throbbing so hard you wonder if you could come just like this, simply by getting your mouth on him. Ronin needs to take his pants off now. Before you gnaw through them. You lean down and bite his bare knee, exposed by the hole in his jeans. He jumps a little, steps back to pull his knee out of your reach and swats at your head. You grin and gnash your teeth at him mid air.
‘As sweet as that offer is, darlin’, I had somethin’ a little more… gruesome in mind.’ Ronin grins wickedly at you and offers you his hand. You let him pull you to your feet, twist you into a bruising kiss before he lets you go. You watch as Ronin walks over to the backpack, and pulls out the plastic bag the crowbar was wrapped in. There’s a pool of blood at the bottom of it. Ronin grins wickedly at you before motioning you over with a beckoning finger. ‘Kneel.’ He says and you do. Situate yourself at his feet and wait with bated breath to see what he does next.
You’re not expecting it when he takes the bag and tips the remaining blood inside onto the crowbar before picking it up. Your breath catches in your throat. You wonder if that’s how it looks when he's using it. Ronin smiles, pleased at the look on your face. ‘Y’see, I was wondering, just how badly do you want this, baby? How badly do you want me? How far are you willing to go?’
Ronin crouches in front of you, holding the crowbar out in front of him. He lines the end of it up with your head like he’s going to hit you, pulls it back a little and you tense. You don’t think he would, but with Ronin, you never truly know. ‘Nah.’ He chuckles, stands back up and taps the crowbar on one of your shoulders, then the other, then he ever so lightly bumps it against your forehead. ‘Here I knight thee, Pretty and Rotten and Mine, forevermore.’ Ronin swipes his thumb along the side of the crowbar, leans forwards and you feel him swipe a cross onto your forehead. ‘Forevermore and always, darlin’.’ Before he leans in and licks it off. Ronin crouches back down.
‘So, as I was saying, just how badly do you want this, baby? You want the devil so badly that you’d kiss his instrument of bloody delight?’ Ronin proffers it to you, palms up. He’s watching you with calculating eyes, like he’s seeing just how far he can push you before you break, but there’s also an intense joy in them, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Ronin’s lips are pursed to the side, an eyebrow quirked in question.
You want to rub your pussy on his face, against his nose, his mouth, his tongue. Your hips rock down against nothing at the thought, a quick motion but you know Ronin catches it as his eyes dip down to look at your bare cunt, hidden out of sight by his oversized t-shirt and a smirk curls around the edges of his mouth.
Instead of responding to his question, you lean in and lick a slow stripe along the crowbar. The copper-y metallic taste of blood, a stranger’s blood, fills your mouth and your heartbeat thunders as you swallow. They’re dead now. Made into mince meat at your boyfriend's hands. You lean in and press a chaste kiss against the cold metal, and then against Ronin’s fingers curved over the bar.
‘Ha-ha! I didn’t think you’d actually do it!’ Ronin crows with laughter. ‘So what d’ya think, darlin’? How does death taste? Pretty fuckin’ great right?’
You’re honestly not sure, you could go without it, but it wasn’t terrible like you expected. You actually quite like the taste of metal, so you’ve always though the taste of blood is kind of nice, but if Ronin wants to know that he’s going to have to work for it. You lick your lips and screw your nose up in distaste.
‘Not for you, huh darlin’? Awh, poor baby. So naive, so deluded.You really think you can lie to the devil? …I’ll let it go, this time. I have something much worse in mind anyway. Put your legs apart for me, darlin’. That’s right, there we go. Now put your hands behind your back.’ You do as he says. Ronin reaches over and holds the edge of your shirt up to your face, ‘ say ‘ah~’, then he tucks it in your mouth so you’re bare from the chest down, exposed. You watch as his gaze trails up and down your naked form, you can’t keep your hips still, they twitch back and forth in time with the soft pulsing in your clit.
Ronin grins sharply, ‘Perfect.’ He says, then he takes the crowbar and holds it upside down, turns the sharp edge of it away from you and slots the curved part up against your cunt. You gasp around your shirt, and the look on Ronin’s face is heady. You knew he was getting off on this, but it’s different to see it. His eyes are half-lidded, gaze dark, mouth open in with a smirk, tongue peeking out as he watches the shock register on your face. You can’t believe he would do something so, so disrespectful. Something so fucking hot you can’t help but buck your hips against the crowbar, grinding your clit into the cold bite of the metal. It’s wet, and you know it's the blood mixing with the slick from your cunt.
Part of you feels sick. The other knows you’re going to cum harder than you ever have in your life to the thought of your boyfriend, Ronin, The Devilish Butcher, the Devil Himself, using this very crowbar to split some poor suckers ribcage open, to break their knees, to crack their skull. You whine and rock your hips back and forth against the crowbar, rut your clit against it desperately. Your whole pussy pulses red-hot, pleasure licking across it sending shudders through you while you get off on thinking about how dangerous Ronin is.
Ronin is watching you with an intense look on his face, like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. Your head tips backwards in ecstasy and his hand comes round to support it, tilts it up so that he can see your face. ‘I want to see the look in your eyes when you come from this, darlin’.’ Oh fuck. You struggle to keep your eyes open as the pleasure twists itself into an electric whine, burning fire across your cunt and sending fricative little jolts through your legs and up your spine. You can feel the curved edge of the crowbar pressing up deliciously against your entrance and you whine, wishing the end of it wasn’t sharp so that Ronin could fuck you with it.
Your hips stutter down, drag your clit against the wet, bloody metal, feel yourself twitch and pulse with delight at how utterly grotesque the action feels. Ronin bites his lip and you think he sees it before you feel it and it vaguely occurs to you to be worried, before your climax washes over you in a thundering wave and you start to twitch. ‘Oh, fuck.’ Slips out your mouth before you can stop it, then devolves into a rasping, guttural moan. You feel a glittering, fuzzy numb feeling grasp the edge of your vision and your toes and shoulders as your hips rock, your clit tenses, then jolts and pulses with the rhythm of your release. You twitch your way through it until your vision dips into black around the edges, and dimly you recognise that you’re passing out just before you do.
When you come to, you’re laid panting in Ronin’s lap, one of his arms supporting your shoulders while the other brushes sweaty hair off your face. ‘Did ‘cha see the light, darlin’?’ Ronin’s smirk is cheeky, self satisfied, and you swat a limp hand at his face in mock outrage. You’re far too spent to actually consider making a real attempt at a comeback. Ronin crows, delighted at this, dodging your slow hand with ease before dipping his head down again to grin at you. ‘I take it that means you did. How were the pearly gates? Closed?’ For all his showboating he slows and kisses you softly, presses his forehead to yours and mutters, ‘Did God tell you you spent way too long dancing with the devil to be let in?’
‘Nooo.’ You grumble, slide your face away from the heavy weight of Ronin’s gaze, turn yourself sideways to hide your expression against Ronin’s stomach and wrap your arms around his middle, ‘He invited m’ in. Told him to fuck off and send me back to hell b’cause that’s where you are.’
There’s a beat of silence before Ronin laughs again, disbelieving and delighted. You feel it rumble in his chest before he pulls you up to sit in his lap properly. ‘Well aren’t you the sweetest?’ You can feel his grin as he presses his lips to your forehead. Your limbs are all loose and you feel euphoric. Giddy and content and happy to be in Ronin’s arms. He rocks you slightly and you laugh, head tipping back as Ronin kisses down your neck, scrapes his teeth against your throat. You shudder away from the stimulation and remember that while you may be satisfied, Ronin has been waiting patiently all this time and you want to make him feel as good as he made you.
‘Ronin.’
‘Mhm,’ you know he’s not really listening by the way he’s leaving little open mouthed kisses along your jaw.
‘Ronin.’
‘Yeah, baby?’ He breathes before pressing a sucking kiss at the skin just underneath your ear.
‘Ronin!’ You snap.
‘What?’ Ronin pulls back, hair dishevelled, mouth bitten red with confusion in his eyes.
You smile at him cheesily. ‘I want you to fuck me.’
Ronin groans, ‘Yeah, baby? Shall I go get the strap? You want The Butcher to fuck you? You want to get to know me, your god, biblically?’ He’s leaning down to kiss at your neck again when you stop him with a hand on his shoulder.
‘No, ‘Nin.’ You breath, ‘I want you to fuck me. I think I’m loose enough, and I think you’ve grown since we last tried.’
You can’t keep the grin off your face at how Ronin freezes, his pupils blown wide with lust. He wets his lips, ‘You want me to…?’
‘Yeah.’ You lean in and kiss him. Ronin doesn’t react for a second but then he’s pulling you against him, bruising, sliding his lips over yours and licking his way into your mouth like he wants to suck the air from your lungs. He pulls your legs over his own to sit between them. You feel his hips rock up under your own, the fabric of his trousers brushes over your wet cunt and you jerk away from the sensation, being too much too soon.
‘I wish I could fuck you like this.’ Ronin grumbles against your lips.
You pull back and murmur, ‘You can fuck me another way.’ Press your forehead against his own and watch his eyes slide shut in an uncharacteristic moment of weakness. Ronin breathes out heavily and nods.
‘Hey!’ You say, and shove him backwards while his eyes are still shut. They fly open in shock and you hold your breath, but then Ronin laughs, leans back on his elbows and appraises you with delight.
‘Little lamb’s got teeth. How cruel, baby. What’s next? You gonna cut out my heart too? Press my still beating atrium against that dirty little cunt of yours that likes blood so much?’
‘Not my fault you were looking all depressed about getting to fuck me.’ You crawl over and sit on his legs, reach for his fly, undo it, and start tugging down his trousers. You glance up at Ronin’s face, lean up and kiss the wary look off it. You’re not sure what it means and that worries you. Ronin is usually a really easy read, once you’ve gotten past all his sarcasm and teasing and esotericism (which is ironic considering his opinion on esotericism is ‘hard knock’). You lean over and kiss him again, a simple peck this time. ‘I really think we’ll get it this time; I’ve been on reddit.’ You say cheekily.
‘And what wisdom did the Glorious Platform of Reddit have to share?’ It’s dripping in sarcasm and you have to resist rolling your eyes.
‘Just some helpful hints, and a position we haven’t tried before.’ You start tugging his trousers down, ‘hips up, baby.’ Ronin’s hips rock up before he lifts them deliberately; he has always liked when you use his own pet names on him. You shuffle down trying to pull Ronin’s trousers the rest of the way off, they get caught around his knees.
‘You know it still might not work, right?’ Oh. So that’s how he’s feeling.
‘Yeah, I know. But we can still try; we got real close last time. Jesus, Ronin, how long are your legs?’ Ronin’s trousers turned inside out as you tugged them down, so you have to bundle them up to finally yank them off his feet.
‘Yeah and I was too small.’ He’s being petulant. Not even making his usual joke of, ‘no, just me,’ at your ‘Jesus’. Arms crossed, laying flopped back on the floor like he doesn’t care, what a big baby. You chuck Ronin’s bundled up trousers at him. They hit his face with a ‘flap!’ and he sits up, outraged.
‘Stop being a baby. That’s my job.’ You say. You lean up and put your hands on his thighs, rub them back and forth soothingly. ‘I thought you’d want this. That’s why I suggested it, but we don’t have to; we can do something different.’
Ronin smooths a hand over his face, ‘No, I want to. I really, really want to. I’m just worried it won’t work, and that I’ll end up feeling less than.’
‘You will never be less than to me. No matter what, Ronin. Okay?’
‘Damn, darlin’, didn’t know you liked me that much.’ He’s smiling cheekily, but you know it’s genuine in the way it plays around the edge of his mouth and crinkling his eyes as he looks up at you.
‘Yes you did, asshole.’
‘Yeah, I did.’
‘Now, you want me to suck your dick first or what?’
Ronin chokes on a laugh, ‘Forgot how much of a romantic you are there. You not gonna wine and dine me first, darlin’? Rile me up until I’m cryin’, beggin’ for it? Oh wait, that was you.’
‘Asshole. I’m asking if I can dine you right now.’
Ronin giggles. ‘Touche. But nah, you don’t need ta’.’ Ronin sits up on his elbows and shoves his boxers down over his hips aggressively. ‘I’ve been rock hard ever since you looked at my crowbar like it was something you wanted inside you, baby. Since you finally showed me some of your rot.’ He kicks his boxers off and they go flying but you don’t see where, you’re too busy focused on the wet mess of pubic hair sticking out from between your boyfriend’s legs.
Ronin parts his legs to let you see what’s between them, the rough black hair covering his public mound, the dark skin around the swollen red lips of his cunt, a thick sheen of slick leaking out from between them. His cock is sticking out from his folds, dark red and twitching against the chill of the open air. Fuck. He’s so hard.
Ronin sucks in a breath and slides a hand down his front, parts his fingers in a ‘v’ shape around the top of his cock and presses down to pull his foreskin back with a hiss. Your mouth waters and you can't resist. You lean down and spit on his cock, letting it run out of your mouth and down your tongue slowly while looking up at Ronin. Ronin moans, and his hips hump into the air towards the wet heat of your mouth, you watch the spit run down over the head of his cock and then down between his folds so you chase it with your tongue. Press between his folds and lick up under his cock and over the head of it. Ronin moans, his hand sliding down to cover the back of your head.
You seal your lips over his shaft with your tongue under it and push your head forwards, sucking gently. You can feel his cock pulse rhythmically against your tongue. You’re expecting him to push your head down but Ronin cards his hands through your hair and pulls you up. You look at him, mouth still hanging open, confused as he pants roughly, ‘You’re the one who said ya’ wanted me fuck ya’, darlin’.’
Oh shit. Yeah. You do. You nod rapidly, scramble to your feet and look at your boyfriend; he’s a vision on the floor; bloody hand prints on his neck, red hair disheveled, wet looking and pushed back, the light smattering of hair covering his thighs, his t-shirt rucked up around his stomach, his happy trail leading down to his hard cock sticking out proudly and his shiny wet cunt underneath it leaking between his legs. ‘You coming?’ You ask as you hold out a hand.
Ronin grabs it and hauls himself to his feet. He leans over and grabs the crowbar off the floor, then puts his arm over your shoulders and starts walking you to his bedroom, ‘that’s the plan, sweetheart.’ You snort out a laugh at his bad joke.
Ronin steers you into the room, drops the crowbar beside the bed, and just when you’re about to turn and kiss him, he drops his arm and shoves you, full bodied, onto the bed. You shriek in shock. You hear Ronin laughing uproariously behind you before you hear the fast padding of his feet as he launches himself towards you. ‘Wait, Ronin, no!’ You bring your arms up in defense but it's too late, and your boyfriend lands on you with a crushing blow. It doesn’t hurt anything other than your pride but you still don’t appreciate being sneak attacked and squished like this.
‘Get! Off! Me!’ You smack him (gently) over the shoulders and on his side and his butt and anywhere you can reach. ‘Awh, I thought you liked me.’ Ronin’s face pops into view, flushed with excitement at getting revenge for your earlier antics. He leans his head on his hands and puts on an exaggerated pout, ‘what? Don't ‘cha like me, darlin’?’
‘Not anymore I don’t.’ You say. You see Ronin’s eyes narrow in disbelief as a wicked smirk overtakes his features.
‘Is that so?’
‘Yep.’ You pop the ‘p’, turning your face away from him in protest.
Ronin starts laying wet kisses against your throat, talking in an over-exaggerated, fake, throaty moan, ‘So you don’t want me to try and bully my red-hot, throbbing, monster cock into your teeny tiny pussy?’ He’s clearly mocking you from his overzealous tone and you hate that it works. You’re mortified that he can fake arousal in such a kitsch and satirical way and it still makes you shiver and squirm to hear it. Ronin laughs against your throat. ‘Yeah, baby? You like that? Should I start using more cheesy porn lines during sex? Will that get you off?’
‘Shut up, Ronin. You know it’s you I like.’
Ronin noses under your jaw and whispers in your ear. ‘Fuck, really? Never noticed.’ He cackles it proudly against your cheek and presses a loud smooch against the side of your face. God fucking damn it. Always has to fucking win this man. Like it’s wired into his bone structure. ‘I knew it~.’
Ronin starts pressing wet, warm kisses under your ear again and you let out a satisfied sigh. You could stay here all day, you think, when Ronin shifts over you, lines your hips up with his, starts rutting forwards again and you feel his bare cock drag wet over your clit. The friction is a delicious bite of a sting against your spent clit, making your hips stutter away from and back into the movement. You can feel it when Ronin’s cock twitches hotly against your clit and the feeling makes you whine; you love rubbing your clit on his cock.
You rock your hips up to meet Ronin’s; his breath puffs against your temple in hot bursts and you can hear him moaning low in his throat on the downward drag of his hips. You don’t want to stop him but then you think of how ecstatic you would both feel if you could get him to actually fuck you; you don’t try this very often as it sets off his dysphoria if it doesn’t work but you know it’s one of Ronin’s biggest fantasies- to be able to fuck you himself.
‘Ronin. Ronin, come on. Fuck me.’
‘So impatient all the time.’ Ronin murmurs, nosing along the edge of your face before pulling back to look you in the eyes. He has the same dopey, lovesick look in his eyes that he did that day you met him in Purgatory- not that he’d ever admit that’s what it was. He thumbs over your lip before leaning in to kiss you again softly. ‘But when you ask so nicely how can I resist? …So, how do you want to do this?’ The words are whispered against your lips, ‘Since you’re the certified reddit expert ‘n’ all.’ Ronin snickers. You smack him (gently) round the side of his head for the cheek. Ronin smiles at you cheekily, kisses you again.
You get him to lift himself off you for a minute, his cock peels away wet and sticky from your cunt and you stifle a whine at the loss of burning hot heat, the feeling of him twitching against you as you move together. You hook a hand around your knee and pull one of your legs as far up and out as you can while keeping the other one laid out. You feel your cunt lips peel apart and allow the wet line from your clit to your entrance to kiss the open air. Ronin’s sat back, watching you open mouthed, hazy red high on his cheekbones, his eyes half lidded as he does.
‘’S that f’ me?’ He asks. You bite your lip and nod. You watch as Ronin exhales slowly, an attempt to keep control, but you don’t want him in control. You want him to take you; like he does when he’s out in Purgatory.
‘Ronin.’ You say. He barely tears his eyes away from your cunt to look at you for a second before he’s staring at it again, leaning towards it like he wants to put his mouth on it but that’s not what you’re doing right now. ‘Ronin.’ He doesn’t even flinch. He mumbles something about ‘such sweet rot’ and your clit twitches under his attention. ‘Butcher.’ You try. Ronin’s eyes snap up to meet yours. ‘Get- get on- straddle my leg, and-’
‘Wait.’ Ronin says, and you pause, letting go of your leg for a second as he leans over you. ‘I think we’re forgetting something.’ You’re confused as to what until Ronin reaches across and casually lifts the crowbar from beside the bed with one hand. You watch the muscles in his arm twist and flex as he handles it. ‘’M not exactly The Butcher without my handy-dandy little friend.’
‘Please never call your crowbar your ‘handy-dandy little friend’ again.’
‘What? You don’t like it?’
You cover your face. ‘No, I don’t like it, it's not sexy at all.’
‘Ah, I forgot. You’re a freak who gets off on the fact that their boyfriend is a murderer. A serial killer. The Butcher. You’re a dirty little pervert.’ Ronin’s holding the crowbar in one hand, tapping the end of it against the other, leaning over you, leering. He’s beautiful. You’re about to deny his claims when he says, ‘don’t lie. Not this time darlin’. I know you like it. It’s written all over your face. Can see it when I-’ The crowbar crashes into the pillow just above your head with a ‘thump!’ Ronin moves so fast you don’t see it coming. You gasp and flinch, but your hips kick up as you do, ‘-swing it around a bit.’ Ronin’s smirking at you, self-satisfied. ‘Told you~’ He says. He goes to pick up the crowbar but you stop him, grabbing his wrist.
‘Leave it there.’ You say. The heavy pressure above your head is a dizzy-making reminder of just how dangerous Ronin is; a heavy reminder of how he didn’t even pause before swinging at you. How strong Ronin has to be, how sure of himself he is to have done that and known he wouldn’t hurt you, or, how reckless he is knowing he could have and doing it anyway. You don’t know which idea turns you on more. You squirm in place, waiting for Ronin to answer you.
‘Sure.’ Ronin says, before he leans down and kisses you gently, ‘Whatever gets you off, you pervert.’ You snort out a laugh. Ronin levels you with a burning stare, eyes dark with want. You feel the hair on the back of your neck raise underneath it and your skin pricks. You wonder if this is how his victims feel when they realise he’s going to kill them. You can’t stop the shudder that rolls through you at the thought.
‘Leg up, baby.’ Ronin helps you pull your thigh back into your own grip, and then straddles himself across your other leg at an angle, ‘So then I just put it in?’ He sounds a little breathless at just the thought.
‘Uh-huh,’ you’re a bit breathless yourself, trying to keep your hips from twitching up towards the heat of his. Ronin leans over you, wraps your raised leg high on his waist so you can let go of it, braces his hands by your shoulders and slowly lowers his cunt over yours; you feel his cock brush against the swollen lips of your cunt. You whine as you hear him inhale sharply, before his cock slides firmly over your clit, slips down between your lips with a stroke of fire and bumps against the wet suckling grasp of your entrance. You clench against the intrusion and feel Ronin exhale heavily against your face. He grinds his cock down against you and you moan in the back of your throat, hips rocking back and forth into the movement.
‘C’mon, darlin’, baby,’ Ronin breathes against your temple, ‘You gotta relax, gotta be nice and open f’me f’r this to work.’ He pushes his cock against you harder, it slides wetly over your entrance and down towards your buttcrack. ‘Shit.’ Ronin mutters, looking down. You catch his face with your hand, tangle it in the hair behind his ear and pull him into a bruising kiss.
‘C’mon, butcher. Try again, need it in me, need you in me.’ You murmur against his mouth, let go of his face and grab one of his hands, slide it up behind your head and wrap it around his crowbar, then you wrap your hand over his. Ronin drops his other arm onto the elbow and full body shudders against you. You feel his hips rut against your ass once, twice before he manages to pull them up and slot his cock against your cunt again.
You can feel his shaft pressed up the length of you, putting pressure against your clit, as the head of his cock brushes your entrance. You breathe out, ‘Wait- wait a sec, can you- what if- pull your foreskin back, baby.’ Ronin nods, lets go of the crowbar to reach down and adjust himself, before putting his hand back on the crowbar. You then reach in between you both and pull the lips of your cunt to the side, out of his way. It works, Ronin’s cock slides down slightly, the head presses against your entrance firmly and you press your hips up into the pressure, breathe in deep and try to relax.
His cock is pressed fully up against you. You hear Ronin moan and grind his hips against you and your entrance flutters. You want him inside and your body agrees. You can feel your cunt pulse against him and you know Ronin feels it too the way he chokes on a moan and his hips stutter before they come to an abrupt halt. He lets out a choked gasp where his head is tucked against your neck. You’re about to ask what’s wrong, Ronin’s whole body is a tense line above you but then you feel it; the head of his cock sliding slowly in under the pressure of your suckling cunt, rubbing just about an inch inside of you.
The feeling is erotic. It relights the fire in your belly, the slow burning aching pleasure of pleasing Ronin; having him fit inside you, knowing how much your boyfriend has wanted this. Ronin’s hips start moving back and forth slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid this won’t last or he’ll slip out. You hear him whine, mutter, ‘oh fuck,’ choke out, ‘baby. Darlin’. You feel divine.’ against your neck. You laugh, breathless, feel your cunt pulse around him in agreement and he groans against your neck, slides his head up and kisses wetly against your jaw. ‘Fuckin’ killing me darlin’. That’s my job.’ His voice is laced with venom. Ronin dips his head down to nip at your neck. You yelp, jump slightly at the sharp sting and Ronin groans.
His cock dislodges with a wet ‘pop’, but Ronin just laughs against your neck, giddy off the high of getting to fuck you himself; safe in the knowledge that he’s managed to do it once so he can do it again. He starts sucking a new bruise on your neck as presses his cock up against your entrance again. ‘You gonna put me out of a job, darlin’? Replace The Butcher with your perfect fuckin’ pussy ‘n’ you’ll kill about the same amount.’
You can’t even laugh at his stupid joke, too focused on the hot, heavy pressure of him against your entrance. His cock slides into place easily now that he knows the angle. You moan as you feel him press into you, a burning hot pressure and you can feel every twitch and pulse of his cock as he does.
Ronin’s head dips forwards, his forehead bumps your own and he grits out, ‘Not- not gonna last, baby.’ You can feel his arms shaking beside your head, his hips pulsing forwards in heavy, slow grinds, pumping his cock into you in a hard rhythm.
You pant out, ‘wait, hold on jus’ a sec-second, I think I can-’ you slide your hand between you both, down to where Ronin’s pelvis has been brushing over your clit, spiking electric little shocks up your spine.
Your entire cunt feels molten, the heat of his cock inside you, the pressure of his shaft against you all the way up to your clit. You press your fingers down over the little nub and start rubbing in little circles. You can feel your clit bumping little kisses against Ronin’s shaft on the down stroke. Ronin shudders as he realises what you’re trying to do, presses his lips against your temple and leaves panting little kisses there until his voice is overtaken by guttural, stuttering moans. You tighten your grip on the crowbar above you, think of Ronin swinging it at your head earlier, picture him doing it to someone else, picture him killing them.
Your clit twitches hotly against Ronin’s cock, you rock your hips into the heavy motion of his rutting and feel the head of his cock rubbing firmly inside you; your hips and thighs start to shake as you come with a low moan. Ronin chokes against your temple; he’s still in you and you know he can feel every wet, slick pulse of your cunt around him. His hips freeze up before hitching harder against your cunt and you feel his cock contract as he starts to come in you. You whine and press your hips up into the feeling, your orgasm spasms into over-sensitivity with a series of heavy clenches but you wouldn’t cut this short for Ronin under threat of death. You’re not pulling back until he does.
Ronin presses his forehead to yours. You hear him gasp wetly, feel something drip onto your face, feel his breath spilling in and out rapidly against your cheek as his hips hump against yours in several long presses until he shudders and slumps over you. Ronin lands on you, chest to chest, panting hard. His cock pops out your cunt with a slick, wet noise and you can feel him twitching slightly against your thigh with aftershocks.
Your hand is numb when you peel your sticky fingers off of Ronin’s and the crowbar. You take care to peel back his fingers too, giving Ronin’s arm back to him and interlacing your finger’s with his against your shoulder. You use your other hand to pet gently at the sweaty hair on the nape of his neck as you both catch your breath.
Ronin’s the first to break the silence, his voice is a little slurred and entirely giddy as he mumbles, ‘told you I could do it, darlin’.’
There’s a heavy beat of silence before you try smack him (gently) on the shoulder, laughing- but you are limp from your second orgasm in the space of thirty minutes and your hand just sort of glides across his sweaty back of his t-shirt and skids onto the bed with a bump. ‘Told me, told me? Who was it that suggested this in the first place? That’s right, me. You shithead.’ You try to fake outrage but you’re giggly and out of breath.
Ronin snorts out a laugh and props his wobbly self up on one elbow to look you in the face, ‘Who taught you to be so proud little lamb? Next you’re gonna start blaspheming and fantasising about serial killers, and we can’t have that can we?’ He’s smiling that dopey lovesick grin, and you know he’s teasing you but all you can see are the little shiny wet lines streaking down from the corner of his eyes and you think ‘holy shit, I made him come so hard he cried’.
You rub a thumb over the corner of his eye gently and Ronin turns his head into the motion before biting at your thumb. He’s like a big cat really. Rubbing himself all over you and biting you for affection. The thought makes you snort a laugh and you say, ‘did you see the light then, darlin’? Who’s cryin’ for it now?’
It’s Ronin’s turn to laugh at this and he says, ‘yeah. And I told God all about what a dirty little sinner I’ve been making you into,’ he presses his head into your hand and his eyes are bright as he looks at you and says, ‘so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.’ Ronin bites his lip, leans in and kisses you gently. He then ruins the moment by looking pointedly at the crowbar and then saying, ‘hope you like hell, darlin’, cause heaven isn’t open to you now.’
His voice is dark and heavy when he says it, but even if you believed in hell you know for a fact you ‘wouldn’t be found anywhere else, Ronin, because this is where you are.’
‘You’re so sickly sweet. My little saint.’ Ronin’s voice is mocking when he says it, but he kisses your forehead anyway. He’s still wearing that lovesick look when he pulls back and you know that just as you would brave hell for him that he’d brave heaven for you- not that you’ll ever ask him to. You like hell far too much to ever leave, and if the devil just so happens to keep fucking your brains out with the help of his crowbar you don’t think you’ll ever go back.
…
‘Hey, Ronin...’
‘Yeah, baby?’
‘D’you think you could take the sharp end off your crowbar in the shop?’
‘Why would I want to-’ Ronin cuts himself off with a startled laugh as he figures out what you’re getting at. ‘I’ll see what I can do baby. You fucking pervert.’
Put the World on the Demolition Strip Baby; We're Gonna Watch the Sunrise. (he/him ver) (NSFW).
Looking for the they/them version?
Ao3 link! - Put the World on the Demolition Strip Baby; We're Gonna Watch the Sunrise.
MINORS PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG OR COMMENT. (This is my new writing blog! This is not stolen content! I've just moved!)
Summary:
Ronin’s sat above you, weight resting heavy over one of your thighs with his hands braced near your head, dark red-purple hair falling in heavy strands around your face. There’s blood on his cheek, smudged. It’s not his own. You want to lick it off him. You can feel the weight of his crowbar creasing a heavy dent on the pillow above your head. It should scare you. To know that your boyfriend is a vicious murderer. That his favourite murder weapon of choice is resting so close to you. You can smell the blood on it, have been able to since you opened the bag, since he walked in with it. It only serves to rile you up more. Your hips twitch upwards in tiny little humping movements. Ronin's grinning so wide it almost splits his face. God, there must be something wrong with you to want this so much.
OR,
todays the day you get intimately acquainted with Ronin's crowbar.
12,215 words :)
Pronouns & genital terms used!:
Ronin- he/him, cock, cunt
Reader- he/him, cock, pussy, cunt, entrance
CW under cut! THIS IS DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT CONTENT. READ THE CW, HEED THE CW, IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT!
CW: D/S dynamics, sex, power imbalances, blood (not period), some dysphoria talk relating to bottom growth (dw we resolve it, no unresolved trans angst in my porn nuh-uh), uh Ronin being gross and reader being unapologetically into it, corruption kink
TW: unhealthy relationship dynamics? (like don’t actually date a serial killer that shit CANNOT be good for you) blood, BLOOD, murder mentions, deranged thinking, inappropriate use of a crowbar, complete ignorance of blood borne pathogens and safe sex, uhhhh sexy murder talk, also MAD sexualisation of murder and serial killing throughout the whole thing
Also, ik ronin’s technically had both top n bottom surgery in like the quasi-canon of tumblr facts but i am currently horny for bottom growth and tdicks so TRY AND STOP ME YOU CANNOT MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
××××××××××
You already knew your boyfriend was a killer. Had known since you joined that damn chat server, way before you met him in person, but this is the first time you’ve seen the evidence first hand. As something more than just a news article or a ‘funny’ photograph dumped in #killer-shit by Ronin himself. …You didn't expect to find it so thrilling.
You’d always told yourself you were okay with it. That you would learn to be okay with it. Hells, you met Ronin for the first time in the alleyway he likes to commit his murders in, it's not like you could claim ignorance.
He'd been covered in blood then too, but you'd brushed past it. Told yourself it was his own. That Ronin's nose was bleeding when you met him. That's where the blood was from. That you were a good person and you could save him. Fix him. Told yourself that you wanted to. You had to, right? Never mind that you only decided all this after you’d gotten home, heart racing with adrenaline from your little meetup, telling yourself that the throbbing in your cock was from ‘misattribution of arousal’ and not how electric it had felt to have Ronin kiss you in the place he normally kills people.
Still, you've never been able to crush the niggling little worry that when you come face to face with it, when you are finally confronted with evidence so overwhelming that you can deny it no longer, that you’d balk. Turn tail and run for the hills because as much as you love your boyfriend- you are no killer. You can’t even really stomach the sight of blood. Normally it makes you sick and queasy. So you avoid it; as much as you can, you dodge and drop the topic like it’s on fire and you’re out of water so you have to avoid getting burned.
Ronin seems to have more faith in you though. Whether it stems from your unwavering addiction devotion to his devilish persona, or from the glassy eyed stare you gave him that day in Purgatory when he brought out his knife. How you didn’t even flinch when he pressed it to your throat, just stared into his wild, wicked eyes and whispered, ‘so are you kissing me now, or after? I have to say I’d much prefer now.’
That had Ronin cracking up. He’d lowered the knife in favour of clutching his knees, bent over double as a wild cackle ripped free from his throat. When he finally stopped laughing enough to speak he'd said, ‘I, a certified serial killer, the butcher, the devil himself, just threatened your life and you’re asking me to kiss you? Awh baby, darlin’. I’ve thought as much before, but now I’m certain that we’re a match made in hell.’ Ronin had then crowded you into the wall, gently pressed the knife into your hands, cupped your face and kissed you. It’d taken your breath away. Still does to think about it.
You could have killed him then. Probably should of. It's what he was suggesting when he handed you the knife; giving you an out if you really were somehow bluffing. That was Ronin through and through; impossibly kind in the most deranged possible manner. And you loved him.
But the thought had crossed your mind, once or twice. That maybe you weren't built for this. For him. You can’t look at the news articles he posts in announcements, or the photos in #killer-shit, or watch scary movies with him without crying and screaming at the tension, the jumpscares, and the gore. Always trying to hide in the fabric of his shirt, behind his jacket, hands pressed tight over your ears to block out the sounds. You’re pretty sure the only reason Ronin’s okay with it is that he finds your innocence endearing, cute even, and your tears hot. Proven by how he forces you to sit still afterwards, both hands gripping your face tight so you can’t back away from him as he looms above you, blocking out the light from the television so all you can see is him. Vision filled with his devilish beauty; his face twisting in a mock version of pity as he traces the path your tears took with his fingers.
The television behind Ronin serving to make him look like a fallen angel by Christening him with a halo of blue light, spilling out from behind the little plastic horns glued to his beanie. He’d be sickened by the thought. Ronin leaning in and licking the tears off your face. Shushing you softly and rubbing his thumb over your lip when you open your mouth to ask why? You don’t get it.
But Ronin fucks you so sweetly when he’s done. You think it’s a prize for withstanding the horror, his horror. That, or it turns him when you let him push you so close to the edge, let him make you cry and tremble with fear before soothing it away with the thick line of his cock. He always lets you curl into his chest afterwards, rocks you to sleep while reciting odd, esoteric poetry from the depths of his mind that you think might be about how much he loves you. You hope.
But you do worry- or, you did worry, that one day Ronin would come home to you while covered in proof that he was out hunting more than just animals, or that one day you would read the wrong article about him, or that someone would tell you about a gruesome murder done by none other than the ‘devilish butcher’, and you’d never be able to look at him the same again. That the room wouldn’t light up around his smile anymore. Instead it would seep sinister into your dreams and invade the cracks in your head with its polluting light and then you would have to leave. Quietly. Unable to face the man you love and tell him you’ve finally realised what he’s been telling you all along: that he’s a monster.
Well, that day is today. You heard Ronin leave early this morning, slide out of bed while it was still dark, too dark for him to be leaving for work, despite your whining and pleading for ‘five more minutes’. Telling him, ‘nooooo ‘Nin, cuddles,’ when Ronin chuckled and said he had work to do. You’d drifted grumpily back into a half sleep when you felt a gloved hand brush over your forehead before Ronin stooped to press a gentle kiss there.
‘I’ll be back real soon, darlin’. Keep dreaming of me while I’m gone.’ You’d opened your eyes blearily to catch sight of him leaving, dressed all in black with a mask pulled up over his mouth and nose. Ronin had waved his crowbar at you merrily before tucking it in his coat and under his arm and strutting jauntily out the door. You’d thought he looked like an angel then too. Not that you’d ever tell him that. It wasn’t until sometime later, after you’d woken up properly and had some time to think about it, that you realised this was the first confirmed time you’d seen him leave to go kill someone.
You’d seen him after he’d killed plenty of times before, when he was still loopy and ecstatic from the thrill and the rush, but the perks of not living together fully yet had meant it was usually after he’d showered. And while he was one to brag, he never seemed to go into specifics, at least not with you. He was usually more preoccupied with bedding you anyways. Excitement leaking into his movements as he’d throw you onto the bed, grin at your outraged squeaks and then shut you up by rutting his thick cock against your mouth until he was satisfied.
But this time, this time is different. This time you know where he’s going, what he’s doing. And you’re just sitting around his apartment, docile, waiting for him to come back. Drinking tea and making breakfast like nothing is different. And maybe it isn’t. It certainly doesn’t feel different. That’s what you’re convincing yourself anyways. Until Ronin opens the door with a slam and struts in, whistling. You don’t jump like you usually do, a phased calm shifting over you when you see him, like you’re settled in your own skin for the first time in your life; like you didn’t even realise something was wrong until suddenly it wasn’t.
Black backpack in one hand, Ronin is conspicuously free of both his gloves, his mask and his crowbar. He almost looks normal when he sees you, but his eyes are wild when you make eye contact. You freeze in place, standing off the side of his kitchenette after placing your dishes in the sink. Ronin’s grin is feral, laced with something evil and you should be scared. You want to be scared as his eyes scan up and down your body, dressed only in one of his worn out oversized sleep shirts; Ronin looks upon you like prey and you shiver.
There’s blood on his face. Just a trickle by his mouth, obscure and miniscule enough it could be his own but you can’t deny it any more. It’s not his. It's someone else’s. Someone he’s killed. Your boyfriend is a killer. A stone cold killer, for the sick, sick thrill. Your legs feel weak and your head spins with how quickly all the blood in your body rushes south, at the thought of how dangerous he is. Your cock twitches in anticipation as if to say ‘hello Ronin, darling. How I've missed you.’
‘Hey there darlin’. Got you all pavlov’d up for me, huh baby?’ Ronin’s eyes are dark with delight as they flick from your face to where you're fidgeting and rubbing your thighs together to try alleviate the heavy ache of your cock. ‘Just can’t wait to have my cock split open those pretty little folds of yours, can you? Well, too bad. You’ll have to be patient while I put this away first, but then I’m all yours darlin’.’ Ronin winks at you comically. You don't laugh, you can’t.
Ronin gestures with the bag to show you what he’s talking about and the word, ‘Don’t.’ slips out your mouth before you can think to stop it. He raises an eyebrow at you.
‘What’s got my sweet little saint all riled up today?’ Ronin’s looking at you with curiosity on his face, clearly expecting an answer but you don't have one. You barely have any thoughts at all other than the raging need to see it, to see proof with your own eyes.
You get to your feet with your pulse racing and your hands numb and tingling. It feels like all the blood in your body is in your head. Or your feet. Or your cunt. It thrumbs heartily with every step you take towards him. The excitement and thrill starts to slip off Ronin’s face and he’s watching you with a calculating look, like he knows today's the day. It softens slightly when you slip one hand into his, press a soft kiss to his lips and gently take the bag from him with your other hand.
The bag’s heavier than it looks, and it should repulse you- the thought that there’s a murder weapon in here, a heavy metal crowbar stained with blood. Someone else's blood. The weight of it should spring a sick dose of reality to the forefront of your mind but as you kneel before the bag and slowly unzip it all you can picture is how strong Ronin is to be able to swing such a heavy implement at someone accurately and with ease. How he'd look in the moment. The strong lines of his shoulder and back, the tension in his arms and the ecstatic- no, the crazed expression he must have as he swings the crowbar above his head and brings it down again and again with one sick crunch after another.
You feel like you can't get enough air though you're breathing heavier than you should be. Your face is aflame and it’s making you dizzy. You shove the sides of the backpack down with shaking hands, and it’s there. Wrapped in a white plastic bag, you can see the thick outline of the metal and the blood that’s pooling in the folds and creases of the bag around it. You reach out to peel the plastic back but a hand catches you by the chin, and turns your head to face him: Ronin. Your God. Your devil.
Ronin’s taken his jacket off, kneeling on one knee as he looks at you with curiosity and stress on his face. Like he’s equally fascinated and worried by your reaction. That is, until he catches sight of your blown pupils and open mouth, watches the way your eyes race across his features, between his brown eyes and soft lips. Darting down to trace the line of his body, your gaze flickers back and forth between his strong arms, the slope of his pecs, and the crease in his trousers hiding the bulge of his cock. You lick your lips, mouth startlingly dry.
Ronin’s face cracks into a wide grin, eyes starting to relight with the fire from his kill, ‘Well hello there, lost little lamb. Are you in need of a Shepherd? Or ‘ve you finally found what you’ve been lookin’ for?’ His gaze lands on the bag and you look at it, mouth dry, and then look at him, like you’re waiting for permission, his permission. Ronin raises his brows at you, delighted grin on his features, tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth, challenging you.
You turn back to the bag, are just reaching in it when you feel the heavy weight of your boyfriend settle itself along your back. His head rests in the crook of your neck, content to just watch as his hands stroke lightly up and down the sides of your stomach.
Your hands are shaking as you reach in the bag, gently peel back the plastic. The bag sticks to itself in the places there's blood pooling. The blood gets on your hands as you unwrap it. It's wet. And cold. Did you want it to be warm? Hot with life? Spurting from a still beating heart in a steady wet, hot pump? You shudder, full bodied and Ronin cackles, delighted by your reaction, beside your ear, leaning in to press a kiss against your cheek as you slide your fingers under the crowbar, feeling the heavy weight of it.
‘You like it, baby? You feel it? You like me?’ One of Ronin’s hands slides down to press against the front of your crotch and you gasp, hips rutting up into the feeling. Ronin inhales sharply, you feel it against your temple. ‘Awh, baby. Darlin’. Fucking knew it. Knew you wanted this since that day in Purgatory, before that, even. Might have been able to hide it from everyone else with your little ‘innocent lamb’ act but I knew you wanted more the second you entered the slaughterhouse and didn’t run screaming for the hills. You’re a sick, sick pervert huh?’
Ronin huffs a laugh against your temple and you want to say something, anything to deny it, deny him, but your hips are humping up against his hand in these minute, fricative little pulses you can’t quite control and you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life. You squirm in his arms. Ronin slides his hand down, large fingers pressing firmly against the soaked seat of your underwear, rocking them back and forth gently until his middle finger settles between your folds, presses a delicious friction up against your cock.
‘Just had to bring it out in you, didn’t I darlin’? You needed the devil to come along and corrupt your sweet little aorta so you wouldn’t have to take the blame, wouldn’t have to admit that you like this. That you want this, almost as much as you want me. Isn’t that right, baby?’ Ronin’s voice is barely a whisper but you hear every word loud and clear. Your face burns and your pussy is throbbing with need.
You whimper, high pitched in your throat and Ronin shushes you, presses a gentle kiss to your fluttering eyelid. ‘Shhhh, don’t you worry, darlin’. I’ll take all the blame this time. Now, let the devil take you on down to hell.’ Ronin is going to be the death of you. You moan low in your throat and press your cunt harder against his hand, he rubs slow circles over your clit with the top of his palm, presses two fingers firmly over your entrance and rubs them over it.
Your fingers grasp shut on the thick, cold, hard metal of the crowbar. It’s positively wet with blood. Ronin laughs by your ear again, a high pitched giggle you’ve never heard him make before. It sounds exactly as deranged as his usual cackling laugh. You turn your head to look at him, nose brushing his face you’re so close and he says, ‘watch’ as he slides his hands to cover your own. The one that was down your pants is sticky and wet where it lays over the back of your hand. Your breath stutters at the loss of friction against your pussy. Ronin presses a kiss against the side of your eye. ‘Patience, baby. Patience. Good things come to those who wait, don’t ‘cha know?’ He laughs again, a light huff of breath ghosting over your eyelashes. You’re not sure if it's directed at you or his own words. You really don’t care.
Ronin turns one of your hands over. Adjusts your grip so you have one hand wrapped tight around the bottom of the crowbar and the other supporting slightly above it. You feel lightheaded. Ronin’s hands are wrapped tight over yours as he lifts them up, raises them up beside your head, as if you’re going to- as if you could- ‘Ready, darlin’?’ Ronin asks, voice a sickly low drawl. You can feel your cock twitching a steady one-two. Thumping away with your heartbeat in your underwear. You swallow thickly. Ronin tightens his grip over yours, then resettles and rests more of his weight against your back.
It feels like he’s everywhere. You can’t think. You can only imagine how hard he must be. Cock twitching away in his underwear. You think of him fucking you. You think of fucking him. His face as he moans. You think of the crowbar pressed tight across your throat, the wild grin on Ronins face as he’d watch the light slip from your eyes; if he would stop before it was too late.
‘I asked you a question darlin’.’
You can’t look away from your tight grip on the crowbar. Your hands, wet and sticky with blood, seeping between your fingers and dribbling down over your knuckles. The vivid red colour smudging underneath Ronin’s tight grip over your hands. You don’t think you’re breathing. You nod, minutely, fractured, frantically. Unable or unwilling to make a bigger move lest it wretch your sight from where you need it.
You feel the tension in your boyfriend's arms as they pull back slightly, the thickness of his muscles as they recoil and, ‘Whoosh! Ha-ha!’, let go. Your arms swing forwards, the motion contained and precise, using only the exact needed strength and precision to knock the now empty backpack straight into the wall. A whimper leaves your throat, high pitched and strangled. The feeling- when the swing connected, the contraction of Ronin’s muscular arms around you, how powerful the blow had felt. You’re gonna pass out. The jolt of electricity you feel in your cock almost hurts. Your hips rock down, seeking friction that isn’t there.
‘Ronin.’ It comes out gasped, guttural, full of want and need.
‘Yeah. You like it, baby? You like me, huh? In all my grotesque delight?’ Ronin presses his grin to your cheek; you’re sure it would be a kiss if he could stop smiling. ‘Sweet little thing finally realised he’s dating The Butcher? Also known as The Devil Himself, darlin’.’ Ronin’s nosing against your face as he says this, you can feel his wicked smile brushing your cheek as he does. You lean back against him, squirming, trying to rub yourself against him or turn around to see him, but Ronin tightens his grip on your hands, brings your focus back to the crowbar and says, ‘ah-ah-ah, we’re not quite done yet baby. How about… some target practice?’
Ronin lets go of your hands, slides out from behind you and saunters into the kitchen.
He flashes you a winning smile before slamming open one of the kitchen cupboards with a bang. Ronin watches you for your reaction; always does when he pulls shit like this, but you barely even notice the noise. Hands limp around the crowbar, it rests heavy against your thighs, leaving bloody red smudges on them. Your eyes are fixated instead on Ronin’s broad shoulders. How the blood on his hands is leaving smudges against the white cupboard doors.
You’re so weak in the knees about it- about him, that when Ronin waves you over to the kitchen counter while setting a series of increasingly ugly mugs against its edge, you forget about the crowbar and stumble as the weight of it pulls you forward. Your knees buckle beneath you, and you land sprawled out on the carpet. You hear Ronin laugh from somewhere above you while you’re still staring at the carpet in shock. You watch as his spiked shoes stride slowly into view. When Ronin bends at the waist and his face swims into your vision, he’s wearing the same twisted version of faux-pity he wears after you’ve white-knuckled it through a horror movie with him.
‘Awh, sweetheart… Somebody’s desperate. You just can’t get enough of me, can you?’ He boops his knuckle against your cheeks and then your nose. Embarrassment floods through you, tinting your face red. You should be affronted. Humiliated. Or maybe some shade of afraid, but it’s hard to be with your sweet, loving, murderous boyfriend leaning over you with an entirely fond look on his face. Eyes alight like you’re what he’s been waiting for since the dawn of time, or, since the birth of Lucifer. Arousal curls hotly around your spine and joins the rutting, swirling mess in your gut. The sticky, wet-hot mess in your panties. The thought swims through your mind that you could come from just this; him standing over you, mocking you so sweetly. Maybe if he put the sole of his boot against your cock then…
‘R-Ronin…’
Ronin puts a hand behind his ear, tilts his head towards you in an over-exaggerated pretence of listening, ‘What’s that, sweetheart?’ You swallow, mouth dry.
‘Ronin.’
‘One more time, say my name, darlin’.’ It’s obvious he’s teasing you. Has been since the very start, but then an idea strikes you, and you can’t not.
‘Butcher.’ Falls from your lips, breathless and Ronin groans. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged it out loud. He turns his upper body away from you for a second, running his hand through his hair. His beanie falls off and hits the lino behind him with a clatter but neither of you turn to look at it. There’s blood in his hair when he faces you again. Sticking strands of it together as it falls back in his face and the look on it, half-pained, half-giddy, flushed red high on his cheekbones.
‘What you do to me, darlin’. Flesh ‘n’ bone pretty, I told you.’ It comes out choked, less drawled than usual and your heartbeat skips a wicked step to be having an effect on him too.
‘Still, we should save that for after. C’mere, upsy daisies.’ Ronin says as he tucks his hands under your armpits and drags you to stand on your wobbly legs. Holy shit your boyfriend is strong.
You leave the crowbar on the floor. Have no choice but to. You crowd into Ronin’s space as soon as you’re able, put your hands on his neck, his cheeks, follow the action by pressing kisses to the blood left behind by your hands. Ronin laughs the whole time, and he’s beautiful. He puts his hands on your hips and pulls you into him. Catches you in a blinding, tummy fluttering, pussy burning kiss. One hand gripped tight on the back of your neck, the other tugs at the front of your panties until they slip up between your pussy lips.
‘Roniinnn.’ You whine. He presses wet, hot kisses down your neck like a trail of fire.
‘What? You don’t like it? I think you look rather… ravishing, like this. Could just devour you like this.’ Ronin tugs on your underwear again and again and it pulls tight against your cock, you moan in stuttering little breaths at the friction. ‘Sounds like you do.’ Ronin groans, kisses open mouthed at your neck. You shake your head, movement restricted by his tight grip on the back of your neck, his lips slide wetly against your skin. Ronin bares his teeth against your neck, not biting, but warning, and you freeze. ‘I think you do~’ Ronin murmurs, singsong. He uses his grip on the back of your neck to make you nod. You’ve never been more turned on and more embarrassed at the same time.
‘No?’ Ronin pulls away from your neck to look you in the eye. Your face is burning with shame. You shake your head minutely, unable to hold eye contact with him as you lie. ‘Shame.’ Ronin mutters. He nips at your neck with his teeth, if it felt anything other than good you’d think it’s punishment for lying to him. He presses an open mouthed, wet kiss against it after, laves his tongue over it like he’s apologising but you know he’s just enjoying tasting the bruise.
Ronin then yanks your underwear down your legs in one smooth motion, and pulls away to lead you to the counter with his fingers linked through yours. He pauses briefly, stooping down to pick up the crowbar at your feet. ‘Can’t forget this now can we?’ He waves it at you cheekily. ‘Alright,’ Ronin looks over his shoulder at you, ‘C’mere darlin’, I don’t bite.’
That’s a bold faced lie; Ronin does bite, the bastard, but you shuffle up behind him anyways. Wrap your arms around him and attempt to peak over his shoulder but you’re too short. You can just sort of make out his hands as he lines up ugly mug after ugly mug.
‘Not pugsley!’ You gasp. Pugsley is a truly horrific, yellow, pug-faced, square shaped mug with an inside lip that creates a circle rim. You got it at a yard sale. It’s impossible to drink out of. At some point Ronin superglued googly eyes over the pugs' own to create this truly awful 3D effect. You both delight in serving the other beverages in it at seemingly random moments, hoping to catch the other off guard and startle them into laughter. The rule being that if you laugh then you have to drink out of it. Which is impossible, and usually a hilarious speedrun of how fast one person can spill a drink down themselves. Ronin gets you more than you get him, but the few memorable moments where you caught him off guard enough to succeed are more than worth it.
Ronin laughs, ‘Alright, alright. Not pugsley.’ You’re sure he only put him in the lineup to start with to get a reaction out of you. He puts his fingers on the top of the mug and sends it sliding towards the sink. It falls in with a clatter. You hope it didn’t break.
Ronin lines up four mugs, one in front, three behind, and places the crowbar down beside them. It sticks briefly to his hands where the blood is starting to dry. You watch his skin peel away from it with your heart in your throat. ‘Now come here.’ Ronin grabs you from behind him and pulls you round in front of him.
‘What are we doing?’ Your cock still feels heavy and hot between your legs and you think that there are other things you’d much rather be doing with your boyfriend at this very second.
‘I told you darlin’. Target practice.’ Ronin waves a hand fluidly as the scene in front of him. Oh. So that’s what he was doing. You consider complaining, putting it off and dragging your boyfriend to bed but if it’s target practice, if he’s teaching you, then surely you’ll get to see him swing his crowbar at least once. That’s not something you can gloss over and pretend you don’t want, because oh boy do you want. Plus, the rewards for playing along with whatever challenge Ronin sets for you that day tend to be on the more generous side, and you really want to see what his sick mind cooks up for you this time. Your pussy will survive this brief pause.
‘Usually I prefer my targets a little more… alive. But, I’ll make an exception. For you, this once.’ The look Ronin gives you is playful, but you can’t be sure if he means it. There’s as much chance that the next time Ronin lets you touch his crowbar may be as contingent on the idea of you killing someone as it’s not. The thought sends a sick, desperate thrill down your spine.
Ronin guides you in front of him, hands on your waist, ‘Feet shoulder width apart.’ His voice is a mocking drawl. You do it anyway. ‘Good job baby!’ He’s talking down to you, like you’re a child. It shouldn’t turn you on but it does. You shudder in response. Ronin wraps his arms around you, over your shoulders. Dances his fingertips down your arms to settle them over your hands. He wraps them around the crowbar, tight and draws both your arms back.
‘You wanna bend your knees, be about thiiiss far away from your target,’ He measures the distance between you and the counter with his arm, then reapplies his grip over yours. He slides your top hand down towards the bottom, ‘And keep a good, tight grip, just like that, but you don’t wanna grip it too high. You’ll catch your hand in the swing and soften the blow. Can’t crack any skulls when you’re pullin’ your punches now can ya’, darlin’?’
Ronin demonstrates the swing trajectory a few times, pulling your hands through the motions to practice. You’re nervous, heart racing like this is the real thing. Your hands dip slightly when Ronin lets go and steps back, the crowbar is heavy and the full weight of it pulls them down slightly. You’re struck once again with awe over how strong Ronin is.
‘Try line up your shot first.’ Ronin’s hand presses against the small of your back when you don’t move. You breathe in slowly through your nose, then exhale through your mouth. You hear Ronin take a few steps back. You line the curved tip of the crowbar up with the mug, practice your shot, once, twice, pull back and then swing. The mug explodes when the crowbar connects with it. You see it in slow motion. The pieces fly everywhere. You stumble as the weight of the crowbar and the momentum of the swing pull you along with it before Ronin’s arms catch you around your waist and keep you from falling.
You giggle hysterically when the world catches back up to you and you’re held safely in your boyfriend’s arms, crowbar held stiffly and awkwardly out in front of you. Your elbows ache slightly. You lean your head back against Ronin’s shoulder to see his face in all its beauty. His eyes are dark as he looks at you and all you can think is how much you love him. How much you want him. You’re maybe a little high off the thrill. The rush. This is a murder weapon. Your boyfriend’s murder weapon. It’s been used to kill people. Your boyfriend kills people. Your pussy flutters back to life now that the pressure is off. You did good. You feel good. You try rubbing your thighs together to get some friction against your cock.
‘Good job, baby.’ This one isn’t mocking, it’s entirely sincere and you squirm under the weight of it. Ronin doesn’t give direct compliments easy. He presses a kiss to your temple and laughs loudly, ‘I’ll make a murderer out of you yet.’ It’s something Ronin says to you often, and you usually laugh it off, brushing it under the rug of ‘usual Ronin antics’, but, maybe he’s been serious this whole time. The thought makes you gulp. Your pussy is drooling between your thighs. Leaving sticky wet marks between them.
‘What? You didn’t think I was joking, did’ja?’ Ronin’s eyes are twinkling with delight as he says it and your mouth runs dry. Oh shit. He wasn’t joking. ‘Now, watch me work!’ Ronin steps back from you slowly, making sure you’re not too loopy and dazed to stand on your own before prying the crowbar from your frozen fingers and dancing around you to line up another mug.
‘Step back baby. Don’t want to hit ya’. Least, not yet.’ You laugh at his teasing. For all Ronin’s threats of killing you, you know he’d miss you far too much. Or, miss the prospect of killing you after the rush fades. You think you’re okay with either. As long as it keeps you alive and in his arms.
‘What about my target practice?’ You say, Ronin looks down pointedly at your hands, they’re shaking. The blood that’s transferred from the crowbar is starting to dry and flake off around your fingers. You can’t help but feel a little… disappointed. You tuck them behind your back. Ronin is watching you silently. When you look up he flashes you a cheesy grin and waves his crowbar in a little circle like he’s saying ‘batter up!’ He’s already put all three remaining mugs in a little row on the edge of the counter.
You’re waiting for him to line up his shot when crack. Ronin’s arms shoot out and hit the first mug dead centre and you’re struck by what a vision your boyfriend is. Ceramic shattering to dust in front of him, the long line of his arms held out, wielding his crowbar with finesse and ease like it’s a part of him. An extension. Crack. The wild glee lighting up his face as he pulls his arms back and cackles, head tipping back with the laugh and then forwards again to face his target, the deadly serious look in his eyes as he locks in on the next mug, his hair falling in his eyes, tendrils sticky and wet looking with the drying blood. Crack. Your own bloody handprints littering his face and neck. He looks divine. Saint like. You would kill for him, you realise with a start. You will kill for him. Some day. Maybe soon.
‘’Nin…’ You say. Ronin looks over at you.
‘What is it, baby? Do you need me? Am I making you weak in the knees?’ Ronin reaches out and taps the end of his crowbar against the back of your knee lightly. You stumble slightly and his smile widens slowly. Like a predator circling his prey, Ronin stalks up close to you, breathes himself into your space, tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. ‘Gonna fall head over heels for me again?’ His grin is shit-eating. Your pussy clenches hotly in response.
‘’Nin, I need you.’ Your hands grasp at the front of his shirt, creasing it into tight little folds between your fingers. All the heat and want and desire from before flares back into life in the pit of your stomach.
‘Need me, need me. Bet’cha wanna please me. Ain’t that right, baby? Am I your God or am I your God?’
It should be embarrassing, how fast you drop to your knees. Nuzzle your face into his crotch where you know his cock is hiding. But you’re dizzy with want. Your whole cunt is throbbing so hard you wonder if you could come just like this, simply by getting your mouth on him. Ronin needs to take his pants off now. Before you gnaw through them. You lean down and bite his bare knee, exposed by the hole in his jeans. He jumps a little, steps back to pull his knee out of your reach and swats at your head. You grin and gnash your teeth at him mid air.
‘As sweet as that offer is, darlin’, I had somethin’ a little more… gruesome in mind.’ Ronin grins wickedly at you and offers you his hand. You let him pull you to your feet, twist you into a bruising kiss before he lets you go. You watch as Ronin walks over to the backpack, and pulls out the plastic bag the crowbar was wrapped in. There’s a pool of blood at the bottom of it. Ronin grins wickedly at you before motioning you over with a beckoning finger. ‘Kneel.’ He says and you do. Situate yourself at his feet and wait with bated breath to see what he does next.
You’re not expecting it when he takes the bag and tips the remaining blood inside onto the crowbar before picking it up. Your breath catches in your throat. You wonder if that’s how it looks when he's using it. Ronin smiles, pleased at the look on your face. ‘Y’see, I was wondering, just how badly do you want this, baby? How badly do you want me? How far are you willing to go?’
Ronin crouches in front of you, holding the crowbar out in front of him. He lines the end of it up with your head like he’s going to hit you, pulls it back a little and you tense. You don’t think he would, but with Ronin, you never truly know. ‘Nah.’ He chuckles, stands back up and taps the crowbar on one of your shoulders, then the other, then he ever so lightly bumps it against your forehead. ‘Here I knight thee, Pretty and Rotten and Mine, forevermore.’ Ronin swipes his thumb along the side of the crowbar, leans forwards and you feel him swipe a cross onto your forehead. ‘Forevermore and always, darlin’.’ Before he leans in and licks it off. Ronin crouches back down.
‘So, as I was saying, just how badly do you want this, baby? You want the devil so badly that you’d kiss his instrument of bloody delight?’ Ronin proffers it to you, palms up. He’s watching you with calculating eyes, like he’s seeing just how far he can push you before you break, but there’s also an intense joy in them, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Ronin’s lips are pursed to the side, an eyebrow quirked in question.
You want to rub your pussy on his face, against his nose, his mouth, his tongue. Your hips rock down against nothing at the thought, a quick motion but you know Ronin catches it as his eyes dip down to look at your bare cunt, hidden out of sight by his oversized t-shirt and a smirk curls around the edges of his mouth.
Instead of responding to his question, you lean in and lick a slow stripe along the crowbar. The copper-y metallic taste of blood, a stranger’s blood, fills your mouth and your heartbeat thunders as you swallow. They’re dead now. Made into mince meat at your boyfriend's hands. You lean in and press a chaste kiss against the cold metal, and then against Ronin’s fingers curved over the bar.
‘Ha-ha! I didn’t think you’d actually do it!’ Ronin crows with laughter. ‘So what d’ya think, darlin’? How does death taste? Pretty fuckin’ great right?’
You’re honestly not sure, you could go without it, but it wasn’t terrible like you expected. You actually quite like the taste of metal, so you’ve always though the taste of blood is kind of nice, but if Ronin wants to know that he’s going to have to work for it. You lick your lips and screw your nose up in distaste.
‘Not for you, huh darlin’? Awh, poor baby. So naive, so deluded.You really think you can lie to the devil? …I’ll let it go, this time. I have something much worse in mind anyway. Put your legs apart for me, darlin’. That’s right, there we go. Now put your hands behind your back.’ You do as he says. Ronin reaches over and holds the edge of your shirt up to your face, ‘ say ‘ah~’, then he tucks it in your mouth so you’re bare from the chest down, exposed. You watch as his gaze trails up and down your naked form, you can’t keep your hips still, they twitch back and forth in time with the soft pulsing in your cock.
Ronin grins sharply, ‘Perfect.’ He says, then he takes the crowbar and holds it upside down, turns the sharp edge of it away from you and slots the curved part up against your cunt. You gasp around your shirt, and the look on Ronin’s face is heady. You knew he was getting off on this, but it’s different to see it. His eyes are half-lidded, gaze dark, mouth open in with a smirk, tongue peeking out as he watches the shock register on your face. You can’t believe he would do something so, so disrespectful. Something so fucking hot you can’t help but buck your hips against the crowbar, grinding your cock into the cold bite of the metal. It’s wet, and you know it's the blood mixing with the slick from your cunt.
Part of you feels sick. The other knows you’re going to cum harder than you ever have in your life to the thought of your boyfriend, Ronin, The Devilish Butcher, the Devil Himself, using this very crowbar to split some poor suckers ribcage open, to break their knees, to crack their skull. You whine and rock your hips back and forth against the crowbar, rut your cock against it desperately. Your whole pussy pulses red-hot, pleasure licking across it sending shudders through you while you get off on thinking about how dangerous Ronin is.
Ronin is watching you with an intense look on his face, like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. Your head tips backwards in ecstasy and his hand comes round to support it, tilts it up so that he can see your face. ‘I want to see the look in your eyes when you come from this, darlin’.’ Oh fuck. You struggle to keep your eyes open as the pleasure twists itself into an electric whine, burning fire through your cunt and sending fricative little jolts through your legs and up your spine. You can feel the curved edge of the crowbar pressing up deliciously against your entrance and you whine, wishing the end of it wasn’t sharp so that Ronin could fuck you with it.
Your hips stutter down, drag your cock against the wet, bloody metal, feel yourself twitch and pulse with delight at how utterly grotesque the action feels. Ronin bites his lip and you think he sees it before you feel it and it vaguely occurs to you to be worried, before your climax washes over you in a thundering wave and you start to twitch. ‘Oh, fuck.’ Slips out your mouth before you can stop it, then devolves into a rasping, guttural moan. You feel a glittering, fuzzy numb feeling grasp the edge of your vision and your toes and shoulders as your hips rock, your cock tenses, then jolts and pulses with the rhythm of your release. You twitch your way through it until your vision dips into black around the edges, and dimly you recognise that you’re passing out just before you do.
When you come to, you’re laid panting in Ronin’s lap, one of his arms supporting your shoulders while the other brushes sweaty hair off your face. ‘Did ‘cha see the light, darlin’?’ Ronin’s smirk is cheeky, self satisfied, and you swat a limp hand at his face in mock outrage. You’re far too spent to actually consider making a real attempt at a comeback. Ronin crows, delighted at this, dodging your slow hand with ease before dipping his head down again to grin at you. ‘I take it that means you did. How were the pearly gates? Closed?’ For all his showboating he slows and kisses you softly, presses his forehead to yours and mutters, ‘Did God tell you you spent way too long dancing with the devil to be let in?’
‘Nooo.’ You grumble, slide your face away from the heavy weight of Ronin’s gaze, turn yourself sideways to hide your expression against Ronin’s stomach and wrap your arms around his middle, ‘He invited m’ in. Told him to fuck off and send me back to hell b’cause that’s where you are.’
There’s a beat of silence before Ronin laughs again, disbelieving and delighted. You feel it rumble in his chest before he pulls you up to sit in his lap properly. ‘Well aren’t you the sweetest?’ You can feel his grin as he presses his lips to your forehead. Your limbs are all loose and you feel euphoric. Giddy and content and happy to be in Ronin’s arms. He rocks you slightly and you laugh, head tipping back as Ronin kisses down your neck, scrapes his teeth against your throat. You shudder away from the stimulation and remember that while you may be satisfied, Ronin has been waiting patiently all this time and you want to make him feel as good as he made you.
‘Ronin.’
‘Mhm,’ you know he’s not really listening by the way he’s leaving little open mouthed kisses along your jaw.
‘Ronin.’
‘Yeah, baby?’ He breathes before pressing a sucking kiss at the skin just underneath your ear.
‘Ronin!’ You snap.
‘What?’ Ronin pulls back, hair dishevelled, mouth bitten red with confusion in his eyes.
You smile at him cheesily. ‘I want you to fuck me.’
Ronin groans, ‘Yeah, baby? Shall I go get the strap? You want The Butcher to fuck you? You want to get to know me, your god, biblically?’ He’s leaning down to kiss at your neck again when you stop him with a hand on his shoulder.
‘No, ‘Nin.’ You breath, ‘I want you to fuck me. I think I’m loose enough, and I think you’ve grown since we last tried.’
You can’t keep the grin off your face at how Ronin freezes, his pupils blown wide with lust. He wets his lips, ‘You want me to…?’
‘Yeah.’ You lean in and kiss him. Ronin doesn’t react for a second but then he’s pulling you against him, bruising, sliding his lips over yours and licking his way into your mouth like he wants to suck the air from your lungs. He pulls your legs over his own to sit between them. You feel his hips rock up under your own, the fabric of his trousers brushes over your wet cunt and you jerk away from the sensation, being too much too soon.
‘I wish I could fuck you like this.’ Ronin grumbles against your lips.
You pull back and murmur, ‘You can fuck me another way.’ Press your forehead against his own and watch his eyes slide shut in an uncharacteristic moment of weakness. Ronin breathes out heavily and nods.
‘Hey!’ You say, and shove him backwards while his eyes are still shut. They fly open in shock and you hold your breath, but then Ronin laughs, leans back on his elbows and appraises you with delight.
‘Little lamb’s got teeth. How cruel, baby. What’s next? You gonna cut out my heart too? Press my still beating atrium against that dirty little cunt of yours that likes blood so much?’
‘Not my fault you were looking all depressed about getting to fuck me.’ You crawl over and sit on his legs, reach for his fly, undo it, and start tugging down his trousers. You glance up at Ronin’s face, lean up and kiss the wary look off it. You’re not sure what it means and that worries you. Ronin is usually a really easy read, once you’ve gotten past all his sarcasm and teasing and esotericism (which is ironic considering his opinion on esotericism is ‘hard knock’). You lean over and kiss him again, a simple peck this time. ‘I really think we’ll get it this time; I’ve been on reddit.’ You say cheekily.
‘And what wisdom did the Glorious Platform of Reddit have to share?’ It’s dripping in sarcasm and you have to resist rolling your eyes.
‘Just some helpful hints, and a position we haven’t tried before.’ You start tugging his trousers down, ‘hips up, baby.’ Ronin’s hips rock up before he lifts them deliberately; he has always liked when you use his own pet names on him. You shuffle down trying to pull Ronin’s trousers the rest of the way off, they get caught around his knees.
‘You know it still might not work, right?’ Oh. So that’s how he’s feeling.
‘Yeah, I know. But we can still try; we got real close last time. Jesus, Ronin, how long are your legs?’ Ronin’s trousers turned inside out as you tugged them down, so you have to bundle them up to finally yank them off his feet.
‘Yeah and I was too small.’ He’s being petulant. Not even making his usual joke of, ‘no, just me,’ at your ‘Jesus’. Arms crossed, laying flopped back on the floor like he doesn’t care, what a big baby. You chuck Ronin’s bundled up trousers at him. They hit his face with a ‘flap!’ and he sits up, outraged.
‘Stop being a baby. That’s my job.’ You say. You lean up and put your hands on his thighs, rub them back and forth soothingly. ‘I thought you’d want this. That’s why I suggested it, but we don’t have to; we can do something different.’
Ronin smooths a hand over his face, ‘No, I want to. I really, really want to. I’m just worried it won’t work, and that I’ll end up feeling less than.’
‘You will never be less than to me. No matter what, Ronin. Okay?’
‘Damn, darlin’, didn’t know you liked me that much.’ He’s smiling cheekily, but you know it’s genuine in the way it plays around the edge of his mouth and crinkling his eyes as he looks up at you.
‘Yes you did, asshole.’
‘Yeah, I did.’
‘Now, you want me to suck your dick first or what?’
Ronin chokes on a laugh, ‘Forgot how much of a romantic you are there. You not gonna wine and dine me first, darlin’? Rile me up until I’m cryin’, beggin’ for it? Oh wait, that was you.’
‘Asshole. I’m asking if I can dine you right now.’
Ronin giggles. ‘Touche. But nah, you don’t need ta’.’ Ronin sits up on his elbows and shoves his boxers down over his hips aggressively. ‘I’ve been rock hard ever since you looked at my crowbar like it was something you wanted inside you, baby. Since you finally showed me some of your rot.’ He kicks his boxers off and they go flying but you don’t see where, you’re too busy focused on the wet mess of pubic hair sticking out from between your boyfriend’s legs.
Ronin parts his legs to let you see what’s between them, the rough black hair covering his public mound, the dark skin around the swollen red lips of his cunt, a thick sheen of slick leaking out from between them. His cock is sticking out from his folds, dark red and twitching against the chill of the open air. Fuck. He’s so hard.
Ronin sucks in a breath and slides a hand down his front, parts his fingers in a ‘v’ shape around the top of his cock and presses down to pull his foreskin back with a hiss. Your mouth waters and you can't resist. You lean down and spit on his cock, letting it run out of your mouth and down your tongue slowly while looking up at Ronin. Ronin moans, and his hips hump into the air towards the wet heat of your mouth, you watch the spit run down over the head of his cock and then down between his folds so you chase it with your tongue. Press between his folds and lick up under his cock and over the head of it. Ronin moans, his hand sliding down to cover the back of your head.
You seal your lips over his shaft with your tongue under it and push your head forwards, sucking gently. You can feel his cock pulse rhythmically against your tongue. You’re expecting him to push your head down but Ronin cards his hands through your hair and pulls you up. You look at him, mouth still hanging open, confused as he pants roughly, ‘You’re the one who said ya’ wanted me fuck ya’, darlin’.’
Oh shit. Yeah. You do. You nod rapidly, scramble to your feet and look at your boyfriend; he’s a vision on the floor; bloody hand prints on his neck, red hair disheveled, wet looking and pushed back, the light smattering of hair covering his thighs, his t-shirt rucked up around his stomach, his happy trail leading down to his hard cock sticking out proudly and his shiny wet cunt underneath it leaking between his legs. ‘You coming?’ You ask as you hold out a hand.
Ronin grabs it and hauls himself to his feet. He leans over and grabs the crowbar off the floor, then puts his arm over your shoulders and starts walking you to his bedroom, ‘that’s the plan, sweetheart.’ You snort out a laugh at his bad joke.
Ronin steers you into the room, drops the crowbar beside the bed, and just when you’re about to turn and kiss him, he drops his arm and shoves you, full bodied, onto the bed. You shriek in shock. You hear Ronin laughing uproariously behind you before you hear the fast padding of his feet as he launches himself towards you. ‘Wait, Ronin, no!’ You bring your arms up in defense but it's too late, and your boyfriend lands on you with a crushing blow. It doesn’t hurt anything other than your pride but you still don’t appreciate being sneak attacked and squished like this.
‘Get! Off! Me!’ You smack him (gently) over the shoulders and on his side and his butt and anywhere you can reach. ‘Awh, I thought you liked me.’ Ronin’s face pops into view, flushed with excitement at getting revenge for your earlier antics. He leans his head on his hands and puts on an exaggerated pout, ‘what? Don't ‘cha like me, darlin’?’
‘Not anymore I don’t.’ You say. You see Ronin’s eyes narrow in disbelief as a wicked smirk overtakes his features.
‘Is that so?’
‘Yep.’ You pop the ‘p’, turning your face away from him in protest.
Ronin starts laying wet kisses against your throat, talking in an over-exaggerated, fake, throaty moan, ‘So you don’t want me to try and bully my red-hot, throbbing, monster cock into your teeny tiny pussy?’ He’s clearly mocking you from his overzealous tone and you hate that it works. You’re mortified that he can fake arousal in such a kitsch and satirical way and it still makes you shiver and squirm to hear it. Ronin laughs against your throat. ‘Yeah, baby? You like that? Should I start using more cheesy porn lines during sex? Will that get you off?’
‘Shut up, Ronin. You know it’s you I like.’
Ronin noses under your jaw and whispers in your ear. ‘Fuck, really? Never noticed.’ He cackles it proudly against your cheek and presses a loud smooch against the side of your face. God fucking damn it. Always has to fucking win this man. Like it’s wired into his bone structure. ‘I knew it~.’
Ronin starts pressing wet, warm kisses under your ear again and you let out a satisfied sigh. You could stay here all day, you think, when Ronin shifts over you, lines your hips up with his, starts rutting forwards again and you feel his bare cock drag wet over yours. The friction is a delicious bite of a sting against your spent cock, making your hips stutter away from and back into the movement. You can feel it when Ronin’s cock twitches hotly against yours and the feeling makes you whine; you love rubbing your cock on his.
You rock your hips up to meet Ronin’s; his breath puffs against your temple in hot bursts and you can hear him moaning low in his throat on the downward drag of his hips. You don’t want to stop him but then you think of how ecstatic you would both feel if you could get him to actually fuck you; you don’t try this very often as it sets off his dysphoria if it doesn’t work but you know it’s one of Ronin’s biggest fantasies- to be able to fuck you himself.
‘Ronin. Ronin, come on. Fuck me.’
‘So impatient all the time.’ Ronin murmurs, nosing along the edge of your face before pulling back to look you in the eyes. He has the same dopey, lovesick look in his eyes that he did that day you met him in Purgatory- not that he’d ever admit that’s what it was. He thumbs over your lip before leaning in to kiss you again softly. ‘But when you ask so nicely how can I resist? …So, how do you want to do this?’ The words are whispered against your lips, ‘Since you’re the certified reddit expert ‘n’ all.’ Ronin snickers. You smack him (gently) round the side of his head for the cheek. Ronin smiles at you cheekily, kisses you again.
You get him to lift himself off you for a minute, his cock peels away wet and sticky from your own and you stifle a whine at the loss of burning hot heat, the feeling of him twitching against you as you move together. You hook a hand around your knee and pull one of your legs as far up and out as you can while keeping the other one laid out. You feel your cunt lips peel apart and allow the wet line from your cock to your entrance to kiss the open air. Ronin’s sat back, watching you open mouthed, hazy red high on his cheekbones, his eyes half lidded as he does.
‘’S that f’ me?’ He asks. You bite your lip and nod. You watch as Ronin exhales slowly, an attempt to keep control, but you don’t want him in control. You want him to take you; like he does when he’s out in Purgatory.
‘Ronin.’ You say. He barely tears his eyes away from your cunt to look at you for a second before he’s staring at it again, leaning towards it like he wants to put his mouth on it but that’s not what you’re doing right now. ‘Ronin.’ He doesn’t even flinch. He mumbles something about ‘such sweet rot’ and your cock twitches under his attention. ‘Butcher.’ You try. Ronin’s eyes snap up to meet yours. ‘Get- get on- straddle my leg, and-’
‘Wait.’ Ronin says, and you pause, letting go of your leg for a second as he leans over you. ‘I think we’re forgetting something.’ You’re confused as to what until Ronin reaches across and casually lifts the crowbar from beside the bed with one hand. You watch the muscles in his arm twist and flex as he handles it. ‘’M not exactly The Butcher without my handy-dandy little friend.’
‘Please never call your crowbar your ‘handy-dandy little friend’ again.’
‘What? You don’t like it?’
You cover your face. ‘No, I don’t like it, it's not sexy at all.’
‘Ah, I forgot. You’re a freak who gets off on the fact that his boyfriend is a murderer. A serial killer. The Butcher. You’re a dirty little pervert.’ Ronin’s holding the crowbar in one hand, tapping the end of it against the other, leaning over you, leering. He’s beautiful. You’re about to deny his claims when he says, ‘don’t lie. Not this time darlin’. I know you like it. It’s written all over your face. Can see it when I-’ The crowbar crashes into the pillow just above your head with a ‘thump!’ Ronin moves so fast you don’t see it coming. You gasp and flinch, but your hips kick up as you do, ‘-swing it around a bit.’ Ronin’s smirking at you, self-satisfied. ‘Told you~’ He says. He goes to pick up the crowbar but you stop him, grabbing his wrist.
‘Leave it there.’ You say. The heavy pressure above your head is a dizzy-making reminder of just how dangerous Ronin is; a heavy reminder of how he didn’t even pause before swinging at you. How strong Ronin has to be, how sure of himself he is to have done that and known he wouldn’t hurt you, or, how reckless he is knowing he could have and doing it anyway. You don’t know which idea turns you on more. You squirm in place, waiting for Ronin to answer you.
‘Sure.’ Ronin says, before he leans down and kisses you gently, ‘Whatever gets you off, you pervert.’ You snort out a laugh. Ronin levels you with a burning stare, eyes dark with want. You feel the hair on the back of your neck raise underneath it and your skin pricks. You wonder if this is how his victims feel when they realise he’s going to kill them. You can’t stop the shudder that rolls through you at the thought.
‘Leg up, baby.’ Ronin helps you pull your thigh back into your own grip, and then straddles himself across your other leg at an angle, ‘So then I just put it in?’ He sounds a little breathless at just the thought.
‘Uh-huh,’ you’re a bit breathless yourself, trying to keep your hips from twitching up towards the heat of his. Ronin leans over you, wraps your raised leg high on his waist so you can let go of it, braces his hands by your shoulders and slowly lowers his cunt over yours; you feel his cock brush against the swollen lips of your cunt. You whine as you hear him inhale sharply, before his cock slides firmly over yours, slips down between your lips with a stroke of fire and bumps against the wet suckling grasp of your entrance. You clench against the intrusion and feel Ronin exhale heavily against your face. He grinds his cock down against you and you moan in the back of your throat, hips rocking back and forth into the movement.
‘C’mon, darlin’, baby,’ Ronin breathes against your temple, ‘You gotta relax, gotta be nice and open f’me f’r this to work.’ He pushes his cock against you harder, it slides wetly over your entrance and down towards your buttcrack. ‘Shit.’ Ronin mutters, looking down. You catch his face with your hand, tangle it in the hair behind his ear and pull him into a bruising kiss.
‘C’mon, butcher. Try again, need it in me, need you in me.’ You murmur against his mouth, let go of his face and grab one of his hands, slide it up behind your head and wrap it around his crowbar, then you wrap your hand over his. Ronin drops his other arm onto the elbow and full body shudders against you. You feel his hips rut against your ass once, twice before he manages to pull them up and slot his cock against your cunt again.
You can feel his shaft pressed up the length of you, putting pressure on the bottom of your cock, as the head of his cock brushes your entrance. You breathe out, ‘Wait a sec, can you- what if- pull your foreskin back, baby.’ Ronin nods, lets go of the crowbar to reach down and adjust himself, before putting his hand back on the crowbar. You then reach in between you both and pull the lips of your cunt to the side, out of his way. It works, Ronin’s cock slides down slightly, the head presses against your entrance firmly and you press your hips up into the pressure, breathe in deep and try to relax.
His cock is pressed fully up against you. You hear Ronin moan and grind his hips against you and your entrance flutters. You want him inside and your body agrees. You can feel your cunt pulse against him and you know Ronin feels it too the way he chokes on a moan and his hips stutter before they come to an abrupt halt. He lets out a choked gasp where his head is tucked against your neck. You’re about to ask what’s wrong, Ronin’s whole body is a tense line above you but then you feel it; the head of his cock sliding slowly in under the pressure of your suckling cunt, rubbing just about an inch inside of you.
The feeling is erotic. It relights the fire in your belly, the slow burning aching pleasure of pleasing Ronin; having him fit inside you, knowing how much your boyfriend has wanted this. Ronin’s hips start moving back and forth slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid this won’t last or he’ll slip out. You hear him whine, mutter, ‘oh fuck,’ choke out, ‘baby. Darlin’. You feel divine.’ against your neck. You laugh, breathless, feel your cunt pulse around him in agreement and he groans against your neck, slides his head up and kisses wetly against your jaw. ‘Fuckin’ killing me darlin’. That’s my job.’ His voice is laced with venom. Ronin dips his head down to nip at your neck. You yelp, jump slightly at the sharp sting and Ronin groans.
His cock dislodges with a wet ‘pop’, but Ronin just laughs against your neck, giddy off the high of getting to fuck you himself; safe in the knowledge that he’s managed to do it once so he can do it again. He starts sucking a new bruise on your neck as presses his cock up against your entrance again. ‘You gonna put me out of a job, darlin’? Replace The Butcher with your perfect fuckin’ pussy ‘n’ you’ll kill about the same amount.’
You can’t even laugh at his stupid joke, too focused on the hot, heavy pressure of him against your entrance. His cock slides into place easily now that he knows the angle. You moan as you feel him press into you, a burning hot pressure and you can feel every twitch and pulse of his cock as he does.
Ronin’s head dips forwards, his forehead bumps your own and he grits out, ‘Not- not gonna last, baby.’ You can feel his arms shaking beside your head, his hips pulsing forwards in heavy, slow grinds, pumping his cock into you in a hard rhythm.
You pant out, ‘wait, hold on jus’ a sec-second, I think I can-’ you slide your hand between you both, down to where Ronin’s pelvis has been brushing over your cock, spiking electric little shocks up your spine.
Your entire cunt feels molten, the heat of his cock inside you, the pressure of his shaft against you all the way up to your own. You grip yourself by your shaft and start rubbing back and forth. The head of your cock pulls back and forth with the pressure, bumping little kisses against Ronin’s shaft. Ronin shudders as he realises what you’re trying to do, presses his lips against your temple and leaves panting little kisses there until his voice is overtaken by guttural, stuttering moans. You tighten your grip on the crowbar above you, think of Ronin swinging it at your head earlier, picture him doing it to someone else, picture him killing them.
Your cock twitches hotly against Ronin’s, you rock your hips into the heavy motion of his rutting and feel the head of his cock rubbing firmly inside you; your hips and thighs start to shake as you come with a low moan. Ronin chokes against your temple; he’s still in you and you know he can feel every wet, slick pulse of your cunt around him. His hips freeze up before hitching harder against your cunt and you feel his cock contract as he starts to come in you. You whine and press your hips up into the feeling, your orgasm spasms into over-sensitivity with a series of heavy clenches but you wouldn’t cut this short for Ronin under threat of death. You’re not pulling back until he does.
Ronin presses his forehead to yours. You hear him gasp wetly, feel something drip onto your face, feel his breath spilling in and out rapidly against your cheek as his hips hump against yours in several long presses until he shudders and slumps over you. Ronin lands on you, chest to chest, panting hard. His cock pops out your cunt with a slick, wet noise and you can feel him twitching slightly against your thigh with aftershocks.
Your hand is numb when you peel your sticky fingers off of Ronin’s and the crowbar. You take care to peel back his fingers too, giving Ronin’s arm back to him and interlacing your finger’s with his against your shoulder. You use your other hand to pet gently at the sweaty hair on the nape of his neck as you both catch your breath.
Ronin’s the first to break the silence, his voice is a little slurred and entirely giddy as he mumbles, ‘told you I could do it, darlin’.’
There’s a heavy beat of silence before you try smack him (gently) on the shoulder, laughing- but you are limp from your second orgasm in the space of thirty minutes and your hand just sort of glides across his sweaty back of his t-shirt and skids onto the bed with a bump. ‘Told me, told me? Who was it that suggested this in the first place? That’s right, me. You shithead.’ You try to fake outrage but you’re giggly and out of breath.
Ronin snorts out a laugh and props his wobbly self up on one elbow to look you in the face, ‘Who taught you to be so proud little lamb? Next you’re gonna start blaspheming and fantasising about serial killers, and we can’t have that can we?’ He’s smiling that dopey lovesick grin, and you know he’s teasing you but all you can see are the little shiny wet lines streaking down from the corner of his eyes and you think ‘holy shit, I made him come so hard he cried’.
You rub a thumb over the corner of his eye gently and Ronin turns his head into the motion before biting at your thumb. He’s like a big cat really. Rubbing himself all over you and biting you for affection. The thought makes you snort a laugh and you say, ‘did you see the light then, darlin’? Who’s cryin’ for it now?’
It’s Ronin’s turn to laugh at this and he says, ‘yeah. And I told God all about what a dirty little sinner I’ve been making you into,’ he presses his head into your hand and his eyes are bright as he looks at you and says, ‘so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.’ Ronin bites his lip, leans in and kisses you gently. He then ruins the moment by looking pointedly at the crowbar and then saying, ‘hope you like hell, darlin’, cause heaven isn’t open to you now.’
His voice is dark and heavy when he says it, but even if you believed in hell you know for a fact you ‘wouldn’t be found anywhere else, Ronin, because this is where you are.’
‘You’re so sickly sweet. My little saint.’ Ronin’s voice is mocking when he says it, but he kisses your forehead anyway. He’s still wearing that lovesick look when he pulls back and you know that just as you would brave hell for him that he’d brave heaven for you- not that you’ll ever ask him to. You like hell far too much to ever leave, and if the devil just so happens to keep fucking your brains out with the help of his crowbar you don’t think you’ll ever go back.
…
‘Hey, Ronin...’
‘Yeah, baby?’
‘D’you think you could take the sharp end off your crowbar in the shop?’
‘Why would I want to-’ Ronin cuts himself off with a startled laugh as he figures out what you’re getting at. ‘I’ll see what I can do baby. You fucking pervert.’
I see Anastacius having Jeanette after one night stand with his ex girlfriend Penelope. She didn’t want the kid but Anastacius being rich and he would be able to provide so it was enticing enough to carry the child. Then after she gives birth she passed away.
OR in the alive ver, she just ups and leaves because she knew she wouldn’t be a great mother and so she conveyed what she felt and left, nothing has been heard from her since. She took her cheque (because Ana felt it was pretty shitty of him if he didn’t give her something) and disappeared. Anastacius knew her well enough to know that it wouldn’t work out between them and respected her decision on not being present in Jeanette’s growing up.
{In all honesty I don’t want to portray her in a bad light cause we legit don’t know much about her other than she was a vain and opportunistic person but since the manhwa does show and in a way teaches? That characters or people can be different from what you think they are initially and I wanted to stick by that.}
When it came to raising Jeanette, Ana did find it difficult for a while in-spite of the fact Jeanette wasn’t a very fuzzy baby. (Welcome to parenthood, we have diapers and sleep deprivation galore).
Ana didn’t very much like the idea of leaving Jeanette to nannies though he does sometimes if he has no choice because of his busy schedule. He wants to be present in her life and not be an absent parent like how his parents were.
He later on meets you when Jeanette is of two to three years. I like to think that (name) was like a childhood friend of Anastacius and they sort of lost touch after they grew older (which happens cause life). They met once gain and their relationship was rekindled. Ana invites (name) to his place and that’s when they discover Ana had a child.
Your first impression of meeting baby Jeanette the first time?
“Are you sure this angel is your baby?” You mumbled out trying to put non existent pieces together of how that gave birth to this, as you cradled baby Jeanette rubbing your hand along her back to get her to sleep.
“What do you mean by that? You make it sound like I was a demon.” Anastacius says as he warmed up a milk bottle.
“I have heard stories from Claude—let’s just say they weren’t any good ones.” You mused.
“I—it was a phase, you can’t hold their past against someone can you?” He recounted, taking the slowly dosing off baby from your hands.
“Mhmm sure but I will never forget the day when you—”
“Say all you want I’m not listening!” He whisper yelled as Jeanette dosed off again with a bottle in her mouth.
“I can’t wait to say all the shit—ake mushrooms you did!…..close save..”
I feel like at some point Ana adopts a dog only because Jeanette really wanted one. He adopts a golden retriever because it reminded him of Jeanette. The dogs likes Ana the most but Ana doesn’t like dogs very much. He would say he’s a cat person but he doesn’t seem to like animals all that much and most animals don’t like him either and it’s hilarious to see Ana being chased down by the pupper to give him kisses and everyone be chilling as Ana is being mauled with affection.
“Daddy?”
“Don’t worry sweetie, daddy is just getting the love he didn’t get—”
*from a distance* “Someone help! Get this overly affectionate dog away from me!”
“—Or wanted!”
As I stated earlier, y’all be having friends to lovers love story ain’t nothing better than falling in love with your best friend. (This is my favorite trope and I’ll fight anyone who has shit to say about it.)
I think you got a bit more closer because of the taking care of the baby antics (how romantic). The way you seemed to touch him more often and the way his hands would linger longer around you. You seemed to be going and staying at their house longer and more often than you did it at your own house. After putting down the baby to bed, you two would sit and talk about life and how life is a mess and how everyone is just stumbling around their way through life and just the things you missed out on and each other lives. Imagine the both of just sitting on a couch with the orange tinted lights with a random show being played on TV (it being in mute ofc) as you both just eat take out and reminisce about the past.
The most significant change in your relationship began when Jeanette started addressing you as a parent, which made you a bit antsy for a bit because you didn’t know how that made Ana feel in your slowly budding relationship with the man. It was at this moment he started view in a different light and began to think of you more than friends (or the nanny he gets to take care of Jeanette for free). Seeing you take care of Jeanette like she was your own made him think the what if’s of this ‘totally platonic’ relationship and then he smacked himself down to reality.
He doesn’t start dating you until Jeanette is a bit more older. Also! She is the one who kind of intervened for Ana so he could get his feelings in order. (I think that Jeanette is sorta the therapist in the family). But she wouldn’t have it any other way.
If no romance? Jeanette would still always consider you to be her parent in one way or the other because you took care of her from up and till she was a baby. So this little gumdrop loves you regardless if you have feelings for her dad.
You proudly present yourself as the guardian and or sometimes the parent of the child if the situation calls for it which doesn’t ever fail to make Jeanette flustered and immensely happy.
A/N: I have to admit though personally I feel like Ana is the perfect character to write a whole bunch of platonic banter with. I more so prefer it rather than the romantic one.
How they are like when you’re sad/upset! [Headcanons]
Cast: Jeanette, Anastacius, Ijekiel
Warnings: Mentions of drinking and friendly blackmail
Jeanette
Jeanette is an extremely good listener she would listen to you rant about your problems.
And she would never spill any of what you would say. You might as well talk to a brick wall than get her to talk.
Jeanette I like to think is really good at making sweets! Like imagine you talking your troubles whilst she makes something.
“I’m just really worried about it now. Like my mind keeps constantly thinking about the ‘what if’s?’” You muttered swinging your legs from the table top.
“I think it’s better to fight fire with fire.” Jeanette chirped while she kneaded the squishy dough.
“What do you mean by that?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows.
“Fight the negative what if’s with positive what if’s!” She smiled at you she then handed you a bowl of icing.
“That’s not a bad idea! -and also it needs more sugar.”
“Okie dokie.”
If you’re not in the mood to talk about your stuff. She doesn’t mind sitting in silence (she has had plenty of experience *cough**cough* Claude.)
If you want an input on something she’s not the best person to ask because she would say what you would want to hear and so it wouldn’t bear much fruit.
If you want someone to comfort you she’s the best person for the job! Especially if you’re the type to want a hug after a tough day she’s standing with open arms!
10/10 would recommend!
Anastacius
I feel like he is the type of guy you wouldn’t go to for comfort or to vent?
Like dude got none of this while growing up so he doesn’t know what to do when someone is crying.
He would try to comfort you but it’s so awkward that you start laughing by how awkward he is yet you’re endeared by the fact that at least he is trying.
But dude if you’re drunk and you’re going to do some stupid crap he’s the one recording that stuff and would proceed to blackmail you with it (he needs you to babysit Jeanette somehow).
“And this butthead then just starts yelling at me and was shouting at me for some reason for his own mistakes and then he—” you proceed to bawl your eyes out as you start cursing out your boss in a slurred voice as you flip off at the sky simultaneously in your drunken stupor.
Ana laughs as you trip over your own feet and almost face plant into the floor. “That’s enough for today I don’t want to deal with a hungover you.” He says as he grabs a hold of your arm and throws it over his shoulder. “Hungover you is quite the best to annoy you with while also being the worst in dealing with.”
“Says the guy who got completely wasted and was found in the neighbors’s backyard.” You commented while you remembered how you had to make up an excuse on how he ended up there.
“I still haven’t figured out how I even got there in the first place.”
“Guess we’ll never know.”
If you don’t want to talk about it he might try to pry it out of you but if you still don’t want to talk about it he would give up.
If you want an input on anything he would be the most terrible person to ask, cause no good advice ever comes out of that mouth.
Ana isn’t that overtime comfortable with hugging someone he does but mostly prefers not to he doesn’t like physical touch much.
4/10. It’s meh but entertaining to see him try so +1 for effort.
Ijekiel
This wolf in sheep’s clothing knows how to comfort someone. (perks of being the ML)
I can see you burst into his office to vent about something or someone and his initial surprise is then taken over with a sweet smile as he listens to you ramble away.
He would get his work done while also listening to you sometimes adding in whenever needed.
“So like marchioness Baldwing had the audacity to say that my necklace was out of fashion!” You huffed out while discourteously stuffing your face with the pastries your husband made the maids bring over. “The gall of that woman- I didn’t even point out when I saw her outdated gloves! feathers are completely out of trend since Baroness Leon.”
“Yes love, but do drink some tea as well. As much as I love hearing your beautiful voice i don’t want you to choke on the pastries.” He said without looking up from his papers. “If you’d like we could go into town to get a new necklace or necklaces.” He said as he looked up warmly at you.
“Darling, I love you.”
He smiled, “and I as well.”
“Darling, won’t you say it back?” You walked up to him staring pouty at him.
“I don’t know.” He replied. “But you must have forgotten something.”
“Ah!”
You placed yourself into his lap as you kissed all over his face, placing one final kiss on his lips before you could move away he quickly stole a kiss away from you.
*gasps* “Cheeky Ijekiel!”
If you’re the type to keep your bottled inside and one day and it finally spills out, he would hold you to his chest as you cry and take it out your system.
“Don’t look at me..that was unbecoming of me.” You sniffled, your eyes red, your makeup or well now the lack therefore seemed to have left your face in trails.
You tried to move away but the white haired man took your face delicately between his hands.
“And yet I would find you the most beautiful in every way.”
The white and cream walls dawned with soft fabrics and pretty flowers, nobles dressed in extravagant gowns, drinking, laughing and enjoying the splendid ball’s desserts and refreshments.
But a woman with a glass of wine in hand stares off into nothingness sometimes stopping to admire the lavish ball.
‘It is for the emperor’s beloved princess after all.’ She laughs at her thoughts. ‘Looks like his highness is doing better.’
You placed yourself against a wall, carefully avoiding other’s unwanted stares and pitying glances, while some whispered their wishes against your presence in the ball.
Of course no one dared to voice their thoughts in fear of invoking the Emperor’s and the Duke’s wrath.
‘I didn’t want to be here either, I only came here on my father’s orders. It’s not my fault he had some urgent business to attend to.’
Your eyes looked through the ball. A laugh almost slipped from your mouth to see his Highness give his sharp glares towards Duke White’s son for dancing with the princess.
It was then your eyes accidentally met a pair of dark eyes.
The man politely smiled and with a hand to his chest slightly bow his head.
It was strange how he looked strikingly familiar he was.
Your heart clenched, a memory resurfaced from the buried labyrinth of your forgotten memories. Your body moved on it’s own accord almost as if wanting to see if it really was true.
Your eyes met his again, he yet again smiled and you felt your heart pound for a reason you can’t understand.
“A-ah lady (name), how are you faring this fine evening?” Duke White spoke out first.
Your eyes that were once fixed on the darker one from the pair turned to the Duke.
“Pardon my intrusion.” You gently smiled as you raked your mind for a suitable excuse as you didn’t except yourself to move on it’s own will. “Tonight’s ball looked so beautiful and I was reminded that the young girl the Duke took care of is present for her debutante as well.” You spoke with poise and calmness.
“Yes lady (name), the child is present for her debutante as well, the child’s name is Jeanette.”
“What a lovely name it is” Smiling you complimented the child though you never have met her.
You turned towards the man you most wanted to speak to. “Good evening, I seem to not your lordship. Please excuse my unknowing.”
“Ah yes I’m Marquis Peterson.”
You felt a bit disappointed at the unfamiliar name, but nonetheless greeted the man.
The music shifted into something the adults could dance to. The nobles gathered at the center of the ball and moved to the music.
“I shall take my leave then Duke White and Marquis Peterson.”
You left the pair and moved towards a place further from crowded center of the ball.
Searching for an unoccupied space, where no one would bother you with terribly pointed conversations and also to avoid other people from asking you for a dance in which no one would ever bother to ask.
Who would want to dance with the previous emperor’s disgraced ex fiancé?
Before you could reach desired location, a voice interrupted you.
“May I have this dance Lady (name)?”
You turned back to be met with Marquis Peterson with his seemingly dark eyes.
Surprised you stared at his extended hand for a brief minute before nodding and putting your hand in his.
‘It would have been rude to say no.’
Both of your bodies blended into the crowd some stared while some laughed and enjoyed themselves.
But amongst those who stared they whispered ‘Look it’s Lady (name)! She’s dancing with some other gentleman!’
‘I have never seen her dance with anyone before!’
‘Poor man probably doesn’t know that she’s disgraced!’
Whispers, whispers everywhere but their sounds were drowned out by the music, your ears paid no heed to their incessant voices you were used to just ignoring things that troubled you.
You stole subtle glances from the man. He didn’t look familiar but he felt familiar.
You felt the warmth on the small of your back, guiding you gently as you moved in circles. The careful squeezes he gave to the palms of your hand, almost as if asking do you remember this?
You moved along to the rhythm of the music being lead by the gentleman clad in black. You lost in the sense of a strange feeling of deja vu.
As you try to remember for this familiar feeling man, the first dance came to an end.
“I had a wonderful time Lady (name) and I hope you had as well.”
Marquis Peterson bowed and placed a kiss on your knuckles.
This action wouldn’t have made your heart flutter the way it did if it weren’t for the fact he kissed the mole between your knuckles.