h4sanz

[h4sanz]

when fratboy!satoru takes your virginity you kind of expect him to be an ass about it. he's cocky as it is, and has a habit of gassing himself up too much when it comes to his... skills in the bedroom. if you're not listening to him talk about how he's the strongest, you're listening to him talk about how he's the biggest.

being the only virgin of your friend group was starting to grate on you and... a small part of you might've wanted to find out if there's any bite to satoru's bark. it's not like the two of you were dating or anything, but you felt comfortable enough to walk up to him one day during lunch and ask, in front of his best friend:

"will you take my virginity?"

maybe you expected him to blush. or freeze up. or at least trip over his words. but instead, the stupid white-haired prick looked up at you with the most relaxed expression possible and shrugged.

"okay."

and that's how you ended up here, sitting criss-cross applesauce on his messy dorm-room bed with his tongue halfway down your throat. a few empty cans of beer and abandoned cheat sheets lay strewn over his floor, and you hate yourself for letting this be the backdrop of your entry into the sex-having life.

but you can’t hate yourself for long because as he runs a hand up your thigh and under your skirt, you start to feel more excited than you thought you’d feel. he pushes you back, slots his knee between your thighs and bites at your bottom lip before trailing down to your throat.

still, it’s satoru, so when he pushes your panties to the side and feels just how wet you are for him, he laughs. “you get this wet when you touch yourself or is all of this just for me?”

“shut up,” you groan as he nips at the skin of your throat and gently runs his finger through your folds and up to your clit. you’re surprised he knows where your clit is, even.

and he’s not wrong—you’ve never been wet like this before. you can feel just how damp the fabric of your panties are you as satoru pulls them down your thighs and hikes your skirt up to get a clearer look at your soaked cunt.

“pretty,” he licks his lips. “wannna taste her, that okay baby?”

his eyes search yours for consent and you’re stunned for a moment as he waits for ‘enthusiastic consent’. you didn’t expect this sort of check-in from a frat boy. your nod seems enthusiastic enough to him, but just for clarity—“use your words.”

“yes. please, gojo.”

“satoru,” he corrects you. “want to hear that name when you cum on my tongue. cant believe no ones tasted her before.”

the use of referring to your pussy as ‘her’ is odd but quickly overlooked when he delves into your pussy like he’s dehydrated. tongue flat against your heat just to flex and circle around your clit. he sucks and bites a little and pulls you to your first orgasm in nasty speeds.

you cum on his tongue whilst his eyes bore into yours from between your thighs. white hair pulled out of his face by your hand as you tug the strands in hopes that he’ll stop licking at your overstimulated clit. it takes until you’re shaking for him to finally pull back and free his angry cock from his pants.

you think you gasp when you see it. he said he was big but you didn’t think he was a truthful man in the slightest. his cock is so heavy it doesn’t even stand at full mast—it fights gravity. satoru sees the look on your face and instead of sporting a shit-eating grin like you expect, he climbs over you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“let’s stop here?” he asks. “we could watch a movie. oooh what about die hard?”

you giggle, your nerves melting a little at his words. “i’m okay, i want this. i am not graduating as a virgin.”

satoru snorts and, after rolling a condom on, gently pries your legs apart enough for him to slot his wait in between them. he guides your ankles to link behind his back and slowly runs the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he says. “just relax. i’ve got you, baby.”

you actually manage to relax a little, focus on the feeling of being stretched as satoru slowly pushes into you until his tip is completely hidden in your cunt. it’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. “keep going.”

one of his long fingers dips down to rub soft circles over your clit to relax you a little more as he pushes deeper. you’ve never felt so full, so sore yet desperate for more… you wonder if it’s always going to feel like this, or if it’s just because satoru is the one breaking you open to find pleasure in your insides.

he lets out a pretty moan as he bottoms out inside of you, the weight of his heavy balls resting against your ass as he stills and catches your lips in a wet kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes against your tongue as he slowly draws out of you and then, with a grunt that you taste, snaps his hips forwards into you.

that hurts, but there’s an odd stitch of pleasure in the way he’s broken you open. “sorry,” he speaks against your lips. “it’s better that i just got it out of the way, it can start feeling real good soon. gonna make you cum on my cock, baby. you want that?”

you nod, eyes staring into his as your foreheads meet. satoru nods back, licking his lips and smiling. “yeah? you wanna be stuffed full, huh? always knew you were filthy. but i’m the only one that gets to see it.”

his arrogance pulls at your lips. “until i fuck the next guy.”

snap. his cock splits you open at that, and though you wince and screw your face us, you’re letting out moans made for porn too. his finger on your clit starts working a little faster as he draws back again just to drive into you even harder.

“no,” he dips his head down to bite at your neck. “not until you fuck the next guy. i mean you can try, baby, but it’s not happening.”

“ngh, what do you mean?”

another thrust into you sends you further up the bed. you’re sure you look a mess but satoru looks down at you with such wide blown eyes that you could be convinced you’re from the heavens. “not giving you up that easy,” he groans. “you know, i fucked someone last week just because they had your name. got to moan it without being slapped. again.”

your hand flies up to his chest, almost in an attempt to slow his now mean pace. “wait you—ngh god—you like me?”

“i’m far fucking past like,” he moans, hips starting to stutter. any discomfort has faded into glorious pleasure. your stomach starts to tighten again and you know you’re close enough that he’s going to try and time your orgasms. “you’re so perfect. so much better than i imagined.”

your eyes roll back a little at the thought of satoru fucking his fist late at night to the thought of you. how nonchalant he was when you asked him to take your virginity, you wonder if he went home last night and stroked himself to the sheer anticipation of being inside of you.

“satoru i’m gonna—”

he cuts you off with a deep kiss. it’s sex and want and lust, but it’s also soft in a way you can’t describe—maybe even a little anxious after his confession. it might just be his pending orgasm, but you swear his lips tremble between yours.

his cock throbs as he drills it into you, hits your most sensitive spot with every single thrust. it’s like he already has you mapped out, because you’re both cumming in tandem with each other before long.

a part of you aches to feel his cum spill into you instead of the condom he wears, to be claimed and filled by his seed over and over. would he fuck it back into you? clean you off with his talented tongue? would he plug you with his cock until he’s ready to overfill you with a second load?

he moans into your mouth and pulls back a little to revel in your fucked out expression. your legs still wrap around his waist, boxing him in and keeping him close. you worry that in typical frat boy fashion he’ll make an excuse and run off to recount the fuck with his friends. but satoru pecks at your lips, then your chin, then down your neck again.

“what are you doing?” you ask, vision slightly blurred from the intensity of your orgasm.

“gonna make you cum again,” he smiles against your skin. “didn’t you hear?”

“hear what?”

he pulls back to look at you, a soft smile pulling at his pretty lips. “that if you cum at least five times when you lose your virginity, you’ll fall in loooove.”

[h4sanz]

ADVERSARIAL APPETITES

♡ — aki hayakawa x f!reader

The only thing worse than accidentally running into the Lust Devil is having to call Aki fucking Hayakawa for help.

18+ ONLY

wc — 1.9k

prompt — coming in pants, praise kink (requested by @antique-remains)

additional content — enemies to lovers, edging, masturbation, phone sex, light brat taming, light dom!Aki vibes, voice kink, mentions of anal sex, coming untouched, dirty talk, anal fingering

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

“Hayakawa.”

“Yeah?”

His voice is slightly muffled, and you know there’s a cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth, burning orange embers dangling precariously as the white stick shakes with the slight movement of his lips.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, the back of your head thuds against the creaky motel headboard as you close your eyes and exhale noisily before muttering, “I need your help.”

Later, you’ll look at your call log and be horrified to find that you called Aki fucking Hayakawa to grovel for assistance. Like this is your first goddamn day as a Devil Hunter. Like he’s not the most insufferably broodish bane of your existence. 

You may never forgive yourself for this temporary lapse in judgment, though that will ultimately be a problem for Later You.

Later—when you’re not stripped down to your bra and panties in a dingy motel room with a questionable smell lingering in the faded brown carpet, your blood-stained button-down shirt and pants carelessly tossed over the back of a half-busted chair, filthy knives left discarded on the nightstand where they’re sitting precariously close to a well-worn copy of the Bible. 

When the metallic taste of blood isn’t still lingering in your mouth from your split bottom lip.

When you’re not about to crawl out of your skin with arousal because your simple in-and-out solo assignment was interrupted by an accidental run-in with the fucking Lust Devil. 

The Lust Devil, who had laughed with an irritatingly melodic voice as you tried and failed to decapitate her. Your knives sang through empty air with each swipe as she repeatedly disappeared into a cloud of hazy, pink vapor, the sickeningly sweet smell of which left you doubled over gagging and gasping for breath. 

She’d kissed you on the cheek and tapped your nose with a deceivingly girlish little giggle before taking her leave, ominously lilting, “Good luck with that, love.” 

You’d hardly made it to this shitty, back road motel with the dredges of your self-control intact, almost orgasming from the mere feeling of your car bouncing with the bumps in the road, scraping your thighs together as you floored it. Abdomen pressed desperately against the edges of the dubiously stained sink, you’d scrubbed your hands raw with scalding hot water thrice in the cramped bathroom before unceremoniously stripping down and flopping onto the bed. 

After an hour of trying and failing to bring yourself over the edge, your sticky, arousal-soaked fingers are now cramped and sore from repeatedly plunging them in and out of your aching cunt. Try as you might, every time you reach the precipice of release, your pleasure evaporates in an instant, leaving every nerve ending in your body painfully ignited with need. Pathetic tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you desperately hump your hand, powerless to expel the insurmountable lust burning inside of you. 

Clearly, masturbating isn’t the solution to the Lust Devil’s little game. 

And Aki says as much after you finish explaining yourself through gritted teeth, fighting for your life to stave off the embarrassing urge to dip your fingers between your thighs again while the call is still active. 

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?!” you cry out in frustration. 

“Her power is fuelled by the fear of something, remember. But it’s not the concept of lust.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s the fear of lusting after someone that you shouldn’t. She feeds on the shameful feelings of acting on inappropriate sexual desires.”

You raise an eyebrow, even though he can’t see you. “So you’re saying I should come back and seduce Kishibe sensei.”

“You’re fucking shameless.”

“I like a quick solution.”

You can hear his exasperated sigh on the other end of the line. “From what I’ve been told, it’s not about physical consummation. It’s a mental thing.”

“So I just need to think about a dirty little secret while I’m touching myself, and then I’ll finally be able to orgasm?”

“Essentially.”

Twenty minutes later, half of the pillows and bed covers have been angrily tossed to the floor in your attempts to touch yourself in every position you could possibly think of—sadly to no avail. 

“Yes?” Aki sounds bored when he answers your next call, and you make a rude gesture in the direction of your phone. 

“It’s not working.”

“And?”

“And I’m two seconds from losing my mind. Can you put that stupidly smart brain of yours to use and actually help me?”

The other end of the line is quiet, so you add with an annoyed huff, “Please.”

You can hear the slight amusement in Aki’s tone as he asks, “What, do you need me to tell you how to masturbate?”

You pointedly ignore the odd feeling that zips up your spine at his words. “Wow, you sure know how to talk dirty to a girl, Hayakawa.”

He scoffs. 

He fucking scoffs. 

There’s a shuffling sound before he responds in a low, clipped tone, “Stop being a fucking brat.”

Everything is silent save for the ticking of the clock on the wall. 

“I…” you trail off, not sure what kind of response you can formulate with the way your heart’s suddenly pounding in your chest. 

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he intones smoothly, your toes involuntarily curling at the cadence of his deep voice. 

“Laying in bed,” you reply, far shorter of breath than you were moments ago. 

“And what are you wearing?”

“My bra and underwear.”

“That’s too much. Take them off.”

Your sharp inhale is your only response, and though Aki’s normally hard-pressed to even suggest you do something on a regular day without getting a snarky response in return, your hands are like phantom limbs as you comply with his request. 

“Are you naked now?”

You nod, only to belatedly realize he can’t see it, so you reply, “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your back arches upward from where you’re lying face up on the mattress, those two words catching you entirely off guard. 

Aki’s the bane of your existence most days, for reasons your foggy brain can’t quite remember now that you’re naked and dripping wet to the husky sound of his unfairly attractive voice in a shitty hotel room in the middle of nowhere. You’ll certainly hate yourself for this later, for shamelessly imagining the slightly bored look on his stupidly handsome face as you spread your legs wide, exhaling shakily while running your fingers over your sensitive, peaked nipples. 

But oh, if it’s an inappropriate orgasm the Lust Devil wants?

It’s what she’s going to get. 

(And if you’re silently moaning now in anticipation at the thought of Aki fucking Hayakawa murmuring dirty things to you over the phone to get you off, nobody else needs to know that.)

“I like you like this,” he murmurs.

“Like what?” you ask, as if you don’t already know. 

He chuckles.

—

You’re insufferable. 

Absolutely, positively insufferable. 

You live and breathe to make Aki’s job far more difficult than it needs to be, with your snappy, headstrong attitude and your penchant for nearly getting yourself killed on a regular basis. 

But right now?

Right now, that’s the last thing on Aki’s mind. Because all of your bristled, sharp edges have gone pliant on the other end of the phone, your scathing, impatient remarks replaced by the sound of your heavily aroused, labored breathing. 

“I bet you’re already soaked,” he says, shifting slightly from where he’s seated on his couch as he feels himself harden in his slacks at the thought.

“I'm dripping all over the sheets,” you admit. 

He bites his fist. 

“Touch yourself for me then.”

You don’t hesitate—he knows that because he can immediately hear the lewd, squelching sound of you starting to pump your fingers in and out of your wet hole. 

“Slow down,” he chides, just to be a dick. He can’t let you off that easy, after all. 

“Fuck you,” you pant out with a whine. 

“Maybe if you behave,” he drawls, clicking his tongue. “How many fingers are you using?”

“Two.”

“Put in another.”

He hears a strangled moan fall from your lips. 

“S’tight,” you whimper. 

“How do you expect to take my dick then?” he asks, the words past his lips before he can stop himself. 

There’s a slight choking sound from your end. “How would you fuck me, Hayakawa?”

“Aki,” he corrects you with a slight edge to his voice, not sure why he suddenly feels compelled to do so. 

“How would you fuck me, Aki?”

His dick is straining painfully against his zipper now, a dark spot of precum staining the black fabric of his pants. He presses the heel of his palm against his throbbing shaft to relieve some of the pressure as he hears the damp slide of three of your fingers plunging in and out of your cunt. 

“Till you’re begging me to come.”

You moan for him. 

For him. 

He’s fucked. 

“Would you fuck my mouth to shut me up?” you breathe out, words hoarse. 

“I bet you’d look so pretty choking on my dick.” More precum leaks through, and Aki’s muscles tense. 

“Would I look pretty with your cum all over my face?”

His dick is so painfully hard it feels like it’s going to fall off. 

Aki’s going to kill the fucking Lust Devil with his bare hands. 

“You’re filthy,” he comments, hips rocking upward to no avail.

“Rude,” you exhale between a moan and a whimper, and he imagines the way you’re probably teasing your supple breasts while fucking yourself on your fingers right now. 

“That was a compliment.”

“I haven’t even told you what I’m doing now,” you tease. 

He raises an eyebrow, letting himself run his hand over his throbbing shaft briefly one more time. “What’s that?”

A loud, broken moan follows. “Using what’s dripping out of me to finger my ass.”

Oh. 

He’s really fucked. 

Aki bites his lower lip so hard he tastes blood as he resists the urge to furiously fist his cock. 

“How many?” he croaks. 

“One.”

“Give me two,” he nearly growls. 

“I can’t—“

“Prep yourself for me. Two fingers.”

Aki’s fairly certain he’s never been so desperate to fuck anyone in his life as he is in this moment. 

He hears you gasp and whimper as you slowly ease a second lubricated finger up your ass, knows it’s shoved all the way in by the sobbing moan that follows. 

“Okay,” you whisper shakily. 

“Good girl,” he says again, because he could tell what it did to you the first time. 

You keen at the praise, and he hears as you resume playing with your pussy while plunging in and out of the tight ring of muscle between your cheeks at the same time. 

“I’m close,” you sob. 

“Come for me,” he tells you, like he’s not on the verge of an untouched orgasm himself. 

“Wanna feel you come in my ass,” you whimper. 

Aki’s helpless to hide his answering moan, the mental image sending him reeling. But it’s the sound of you crying out his name as you come that’s his undoing—

“AKI!”

The coil in Aki’s gut unfurls like a whip, white-hot pleasure washing over his body as he trembles with the force of his orgasm. Cum floods his boxers, his hot, sticky seed leaking all over his balls and soaking through the front of his slacks. He gives in and roughly grasps his cock through the damp material, riding out the aftershocks as cum drips along his inner thighs, belatedly realizing just how loudly he’s moaning right along with you. 

Then it’s quiet for a moment, save for the sound of both of you breathing hard. 

“Did you—“

“Text me the address of that motel. Now.”

— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[h4sanz]

IMAGINE BEING LOVED BY ME.

issei matsukawa x f!reader

Your co-star drops out the morning that you're meant to get started on your latest film. The hastily written name on the call sheet for his last-minute replacement simply reads: MATTSUN.

wc: 3.6k tags: 18+ only, pornstar!mattsun, pornstar!reader, brat!reader, brat!tamer mattsun, teasing, dom!mattsun vibes, fingering, finger sucking, masturbation, edging, unprotected p in v, creampie -> requested

“What happened to Iwaizumi?”

Glancing up from the latest copy of today’s script that was just handed to you, you point to where your co-star’s name is crossed out in black sharpie. Beside it, someone has hurriedly written ‘MATTSUN’. 

While the name vaguely rings a bell, you can’t quite put a face to it. You certainly haven’t shot anything with him before. 

The director, Oikawa, sighs. “Iwa-chan had some bad sushi last night, he’s been puking all morning.”

You can’t help the slight pout that works its way onto your lips. While it’s perhaps not wholly professional to have preferred co-stars in your line of work, Iwaizumi’s one of your favorite scene partners by far. 

As if reading your mind, Oikawa adds, “I know you love working that poor man into the palm of your hand.”

So you have a bit of a penchant for letting your bratty side come out in your roles. And with someone like Iwaizumi, whose brusque off-screen attitude collapses like a deck of cards the moment you offer him doe eyes and pouty lips for the cameras, it makes for a dynamic that you’ve become known for in your films. 

Which is why you nearly stumble when he adds, “But I’ll warn you that Mattsun is…a bit different.”

You raise a brow. “How so?”

Appearing from seemingly out of nowhere, his assistant, Hanamaki, peers from around his shoulder with several clipboards clutched in his hands, along with a tray of coffees. Eyes sparkling with something that borders on mischief, he grins, “Mattsun? Ahh…you’ll see.”

–

“Hey.”

A deep voice startles you from your thoughts, and you nearly drop your phone in the process. Unfortunately, you do actually lose your grip on the device when you suddenly find yourself face-to-face with what might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

(And you’ve worked with Kuroo fucking Tetsurou, so that’s saying something.)

He’s tall, very tall, with black hair that has just enough product in it to style his waves while still looking inexplicably soft. His eyes are a deep, rich shade of brown, the playful amusement in them mirroring the slight upward curve of his lips. And while you’re not normally one to outright ogle when you’re working, as he bends down to pick up your phone, you can’t help but let your eyes briefly stray over the tattoos on his chest, the ink exposed by the several rogue buttons left forgotten at the top end of his black shirt. As he hands it to you, you inadvertently catch a glance at several more winding lines that make their way from beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his button down, crawling up his forearms. 

It’s not often that you find yourself speechless, and yet—

“Thank…you?” 

You haven’t the slightest fucking clue why you phrased it as a question.

He chuckles, and you pointedly try to ignore the way the low, rough sound goes right to your gut. Casually leaning against the brick wall beside you, he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his well-fitting black slacks. 

“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asks.

You blink at him. “We’re outside, I think you can do whatever you want.”

He grins, offering you a lopsided smile that makes your breath catch in your throat for some reason. “I’m asking because we start filming in fifteen.”

Oh.

“Mattsun?” you inquire, trying to hide your surprise.

“Matsukawa Issei.” He sticks out a hand to shake yours. “I’ve seen some of your movies. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

There’s something about the way he says it, something in his tone that nestles its way down the back of your throat, brushing against the base of your spine before unfurling deep in your abdomen. 

It’s eighty degrees outside.

And you shiver.

Though you don’t entirely understand why.

–

“Alright, from the top, people! The viewing is in full swing, and the granddaughter of the deceased has just cornered the funeral director in a coat closet,” Hanamaki calls out. 

You’ve always found it easy to cry on-camera.

“It’s so hard being out there,” you hiccup, palms pressing into Matsukawa’s black button down. 

He pats you on the shoulder, a bit awkwardly, as the funeral director who was just unceremoniously dragged into a closet is meant to do. 

“It’s overwhelming seeing my family…” You rest your head against his chest, arms snaking around his stiff frame. “And my boyfriend was supposed to come with me…but then I found out he was cheating on me yesterday…”

Another fake sob.

“Maybe I should get someone for you…” Matsukawa says, carefully trying to pry you off of him.

Tears roll down your cheeks, and you let your eyes go a little big, lips falling into a pout that would have someone like Iwaizumi dry humping you in seconds as you whine, “I’m just so lonely.”

You’ve been doing this long enough to know exactly how your desperate, pleading face looks right now on-camera, lit with soft spotlight-like light overhead. 

You lean your lower half into him, hips brushing together.

Now, he should offer you a sharp intake of breath in return, a man torn between his duty and the traitorous arousal coursing through him. He should take a step back as you press into him further, eyes going a little wide as you run a hand over the gratuitously low neckline of your dress—

Despite the fact that Oikawa had taken you aside to warn you that Mattsun has a tendency to improvise, your reaction is still wholly authentic when he flips the script on you entirely.

Between one breath and the next, you find your back pressed against the wall behind you, Matsukawa’s palm laid flat beside your head as he leans in, lips curled into a smirk.

“So you thought you’d pull me in here,” he murmurs, one long, slender finger hooking itself in the strap of your dress. “And what? Suck my dick?”

You’d reassured Oikawa several times before you were ushered out of the makeup chair that you were fine with improvisation. In fact, given how bland the scripts had been for some of your more recent films, you welcomed the challenge.

But when you go to respond to Matsukawa, you find that all you can do is wordlessly part your lips.

“I—”

He tilts his head to the side, a rogue curl falling across his eyebrow, his eyes searching yours for a moment until he seems to have found whatever it is that he’s looking for.

“Or maybe you’re just bored. Maybe you thought you’d come in here and show me your pretty tits. Then you’d sit back down out there in one of those chairs and giggle to yourself knowing I’m too fucking hard to come back out.”

Well, yes. That’s what the script calls for. 

He cups your chin. “But I have a better idea.”

Despite the fact that you’ve never worked with him, it’s clearly a testament to Oikawa’s trust in Mattsun, because he’s yet to call cut. The cameras continue to roll. 

“If that’s okay with you,” he adds in a quiet murmur, and you instinctively know that he’s asking you, not your character. 

Well, fuck it. Fine.

“Okay,” you nod, adding in another sniffle for good measure.

“Good girl,” he rasps, and fuck if you aren’t half tempted to go off-script yourself, drop to your knees, and add a blowjob scene for good measure.

Before you can say anything else, your body spins, and Matsukawa presses both of your hands against the wall that you’re now facing, his chest flush with your back. He brings his hips to your ass, and you have to bite your bottom lip as your eyes go wide at the feeling of just how large his cock is. 

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling a little dizzy at the thought of him fucking you with—

Why are you thinking about that right now? How the fuck is he affecting you this much?

“Normally,” he exhales, breath hot against the shell of your ear, “I send brats home when they’re being disruptive to the service.”

He drags his mouth down the side of your neck and continues against the soft curve where your shoulder begins, “But you’ve caught my attention.”

In what may very well be the most amateur reaction you’ve had to a co-star in years, you find your heart thudding in your chest over what certainly was not meant to be a double entendre. 

“S-someone’s going to notice I’ve been gone for too long,” you whimper, finally regaining your footing with an improvised line of your own.

Matsukawa chuckles, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the nape of your neck as he rucks up the skirt of your dress and runs two curled knuckles over your clothed cunt. 

“Maybe you should have behaved in the first place, then.”

For a scene like this, shot in a tight space with dim lighting, Matsukawa could get away with just slipping a large hand into your panties while you put on a show and act like he’s fingering you. It’s not like the cameras are set up for a close up of his long digits sliding their way into your cunt.

But Matsukawa must be one of those actors who likes to draw out authentic reactions, because his chest rumbles softly in amusement at the surprised, real moan that tumbles from your lips when he slides his fingers through your slick folds. Warm embarrassment prickles down your spine when you realize how soaked your panties are.

Matsukawa, of course, notices as well. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl get this wet while she’s crying,” he observes, voice even.

You push out a few more tears, putting back on the wobbly voice of a grieving granddaughter. “You’ve just been so nice to me today.”

Matsukawa’s lips graze your ear again, and he slips two fingers into your sopping wet pussy as he whispers, “I’m not nice, sweetheart.”

The sound that heaves from your chest as he nips at your earlobe and plunges in knuckle-deep is so embarrassingly desperate, you know that your soul is going to leave your body when you inevitably have to watch the playback of this scene at some point. But for now, all you can do is curl your fingers against the peeling wallpaper inside of the closet as you beg your legs not to give out beneath you while you rock into his touch.

You don’t even realize how loud you’ve started moaning until Matsukawa claps a hand over your mouth.

“It’s like you want to get caught,” he chastises.

And then suddenly, without warning, the pleasure that’s rapidly building up inside of you is snuffed out like a match as he takes his hand away. 

“What—” you turn to him, dazed, not quite acting anymore. 

His eyes glimmer as he lifts the two fingers coated in your sticky arousal and places them in his mouth, licking them clean. 

Did he just fucking edge—

“Maybe now you’ll behave.”

He goes to leave the closet before you, but not before casting a look back in your direction. The cameras aren’t on his face from this angle, so the smirk that he gives is for you and you alone. 

–

You’re a professional.

You’ve shot plenty of scenes in plenty of films that have been purposefully sexually frustrating.

You’ve even gone entire productions without actually coming.

But this?

This is fucking torture.

There are several filler scenes that follow the fuckery in the closet, ones with the rest of the grieving family where the most you’re meant to do is have a few subtle, flirtatious interactions with the funeral director.

Which would be fine, truly, in any other situation.

But you’re so pent up right now, you’re on the verge of really lighting up Oikawa’s whole script and just adding a masturbation scene right here on this stupid piano bench. He’s written more ridiculous scenes himself, for fuck’s sake. 

And the problem is that Matsukawa seems very much aware of exactly what he’s doing to you, his stupidly handsome expression turning almost teasing every time you lock eyes with him. 

“Not used to not getting your way, princess?” a deep, rough voice startles you, and the piano keys let out a grating sound as your hand twitches. 

You look up to find Matsukawa looming over you, and—did he fucking unbutton his shirt even more?

He catches you staring at the tattoo on his chest, and he grins, curling a finger under your chin and tilting your head to meet his eyes instead. “I’ll let you look if you behave.”

Your toes curl painfully tight.

–

The feeling of relief that courses through you when you walk onto the set for the final scene is all encompassing. If nothing else, regardless of what happens, you’re now this much closer to going home and stuffing a vibrator between your legs. 

You’re splayed out on the large leather couch in the funeral director’s office when Matsukawa walks in. His eyes widen (as they’re scripted to) when he sees your cunt on full display, two fingers already stuffed inside. 

It feels so good, you want to sob.

Now as per Oikawa’s story, he’s supposed to start palming himself through his pants as he watches you. Then you’ll climb into his lap and tell him how badly you’ve been waiting all day for him to fuck you. He’ll try to tell you it’s not a good idea, but then he’ll eventually give in when you start whining and grinding on his erection.

Matsukawa’s clearly not done improvising today, though, because instead, he walks up beside you and says, “Stop.”

Though you’re not quite sure where he’s going with this, you roll with it, and the pout that leaves your face isn’t difficult to make—given that you’re actually frustrated that he interrupted your pleasure once again.

He huffs in amusement, running his tongue along his lower lip before he leans down and murmurs in a low tone, “That’s not going to work on me, pretty girl.”

When he straightens back up, he speaks more clearly as he adds, “Since you decided to be such a nuisance today, you’ll come when I say you can.”

“You can’t stop me,” you retort instantly.

He bites his lip, smiling. “Then I won’t fuck you.”

Your empty cunt spasms around nothing.

Rather than having you climb into his lap, Matsukawa ends up on top of you, fingers deftly tugging down the straps of your dress to let your tits spill out. His mouth is searing hot when he begins to mouth at them, teeth grazing your nipples, tongue lapping at your supple, sensitive skin.

You know somewhere off-camera, Oikawa is gleefully eating up the absolutely unhinged moans that are tumbling from your lips.

Then, Matsukawa makes his way down your body, wasting no time in rucking up your dress past your hips as he slides down your panties—he holds your gaze all the while, pressing a kiss to your ankle when he finally slips them off. The black lace disappears in the pocket of his slacks.

With a camera now repositioned for a close-up shot, you know that he’s going to go all-out with his mouth between your legs. But you’re still not prepared for the full-body shiver that runs through you, the way your spine arches up off of the cushion when he begins to lap at your cunt with fervor. You unconsciously bury your fingers in your hair as he stuffs his tongue into your aching, wet hole, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as you desperately rock your hips into his plush, saliva-soaked touch.

And then he stops.

You cry out in protest, in frustration.

“Not yet,” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh, your hip bone, your belly button, before he eventually reaches your neck.

His position finds one of his legs slotted between your own, and though it’s  purely for selfish reasons rather than aesthetic ones, you start dry humping his thigh. A fresh wave of pleasure rocks through you, heightened by the thought of the sticky, damp mess you’re leaving behind on his pants.

He clamps his fingers down on your right hip, holding you still.

“Cute,” he mutters in your ear, so only you can hear him. “Does that move normally work on Iwaizumi?”

With his other hand he cups one of your breasts, dragging the pad of his thumb over your peaked nipple. 

“I guess that shouldn’t surprise me,” he continues. “He does tend to roll right over for brats, considering he’s fucking Oikawa.”

You choke. 

He readjusts, placing his knees on the outside of your legs, hand releasing your hip to stroke your throbbing, swollen clit at a maddeningly slow pace. Abandoning your breast, he cups the side of your face, thumb tugging down your bottom lip.

“I think I’m letting you off too easy right now,” he says quietly. “But this scene is supposed to cut in ten minutes, so we’d better give them a podium finish.”

You’ve been doing this for years.

You’ve had a lot of sex.

But the moment that Matsukawa’s fat cock bottoms out inside of your tight, dripping cunt, as he lifts up your left thigh to wrap it around his waist to fuck you even deeper, as he pins your wrists above your head and finally brings his lips crashing down onto yours—

—it’s never been like this. 

Matsukawa kisses you hard, and he fucks you even harder, the couch creaking in protest with each rough snap of his hips. The room is filled with the sounds of slapping flesh and the lewd, filthy squelch of your cunt. Arousal drips from your folds, coating the leather surface of the cushions and sliding down your ass. You moan, voice breaking into a sob as your cunt grips his thick cock while he relentlessly stuffs it back inside of you. 

At one point, he releases your hands, fingers cupping the back of your head as he licks his way into your mouth. You card your fingers through his hair, the locks just as soft as you’d imagined, and you tug. Matsukawa groans, and it dissolves into a chuckle as you pull even harder. His lust-blown pupils find yours as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites down.

You whine, and he grins, kissing the pain away as he continues to pump his cock into your tight, sopping wet channel. 

And because your hands are now free, you take advantage of the opportunity to take off his shirt. In your eagerness, you end up popping off half of the remaining buttons, and he laughs under his breath, helping you the rest of the way before tossing it to the floor. 

You’re certain that he feels the way your cunt clenches as you drink in the full sight of the colorful tattoos that adorn his chest and arms. 

“Mattsun,” you accidentally breathe out.

Whatever, they can fucking edit that out with an ADR moan. 

His eyes flash, and he brushes his lips against yours and murmurs, “Issei.”

You blink at him, chest heaving, and before you can think better of it, you thread your fingers into the hair at the back of his head and pull his ear to your mouth.

“Issei.”

Matsukawa groans. He slams his cock so deep inside of you, stars prickle at the backs of your eyes. The coil of pleasure deep in your gut twists and trembles, your muscles tensing further with each and every stroke. 

“Come for me,” Matsukawa says, staring down at your fucked out, cock drunk face. 

He doesn’t look any better.

A stubborn part of you almost wants to come up with some pointless retort, just for the sake of being a—

“Quit being a brat and come all over my cock.”

Pleasure explodes inside of you, white-hot and searing through your veins from head to toe. Your cunt spasms, your body shakes, and Matsukawa’s mouth crashes back into yours as he kisses you hard and swallows down your breathless moans. 

When you come down from your climax, Matsukawa’s cock is still heavy and thick, lodged in the grip of your slick hole. And because you just can’t help yourself, you turn your head to the side, where one of his hands sits flat against the cushion. You take his pointer and middle fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digits as you make eye contact with him while you suck on them. 

Matsukawa’s lips part.

You abandon his hand after a moment, arching up to bring your lips to his ear once more to whisper only to him, “Aren’t you going to fill me up, Issei?”

It’s fruitless to try and hide the second, toe-curling orgasm that Matsukawa drags out of you solely from the feeling of his fat cock pulsing against your slick walls, filling your cunt to the brim with thick, hot ropes of cum that seem to never end. 

It’s quiet on the set for a few moments after the two of you come apart, cum dripping all over the couch as it slides off of Matsukawa’s cock and drips out of your pussy in thick, sticky globs. 

Hanamaki offers both of you robes, and Oikawa hurries over, eyes shining with excitement as he says, “Please tell me you’ll work together again, I have the perfect script coming up.”

Matsukawa cocks his head to the side as he looks at you with a half-smile, waiting. 

It’s up to you.

You turn to Oikawa and nod.

[h4sanz]

OVERRATED // matsukawa issei x f!reader

You’re convinced that getting fingered is overrated. Your roommate shows you otherwise, since you’ve clearly never been with someone who knows what they’re doing.

2.6k — 18+, roommates to lovers, fingering, mattsun and those goddamn hands

A woman sits in a dark booth in the back corner of a restaurant, lower lip tucked between her teeth, fingers digging into the edges of her seat as she tries not to make it obvious that the man beside her has his hand up her skirt. 

“There’s no way it feels that good for her,” you scoff, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as you stare judgmentally at the television screen. 

Matsukawa looks from you, to the movie, and back again. “Getting fingered?”

Your eyes flit over to where your roommate’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch, one brow raised as he lifts a can of soda to his lips.

The woman on the television screen moans.

(This isn’t porn, for the record.)

“Yeah? I mean this is like, false advertising.”

Matsukawa blinks. “I literally do not think I’ve ever met a girl who doesn’t enjoy being fingered.”

A sudden surge of heat licks at the back of your neck at his words, and you force your attention back to the screen. “And just how many girls have you—actually, you know what. Nevermind. Don’t answer that.”

He lets out a quiet huff of a laugh, and the two of you are silent for another five minutes or so before he speaks up again.

“So you’ve never had an orgasm just from being fingered then.”

Matsukawa says it bluntly, plainly, like he’s completely unbothered by the prospect of casually discussing sex with you on your couch on a Friday night. 

“Nope,” you shake your head, popping the ‘P’ for emphasis.

He’s not looking at you when he replies, “That’s a shame.”

—

Your phone lights up with a notification for a text message from Matsukawa on Sunday morning while you’re still in bed. You’re pretty sure he left the apartment early to get breakfast with Hanamaki, and he’s yet to return.

Mattsun: can you text makki and tell him you think getting fingered is overrated Mattsun: he doesn’t believe me >>: …. >>: so like >>: sometimes makki can just maybe not know things Mattsun: you spent twenty minutes last week telling both of us about your last date who couldn’t get it up Mattsun: in detail Mattsun: with a donut and >>: OKAY YEAH YEAH Mattsun: :)

Collapsing back against your pillows, you groan before opening your text thread with Hanamaki.

>>: getting fingered is overrated, makki Hanamaki: wow he wasn’t kidding  Hanamaki: wild >>: now can you make sure he brings me home a coffee Hanamaki: k Hanamaki: u act like he would ever forget something u asked for >>: what’s that supposed to mean Hanamaki: also though Hanamaki: when are u guys going to fuck

You drop your phone on the mattress, looking around the room as if Hanamaki himself is sitting in the corner snickering at you. 

>>: i’m sorry what >>: who >>: how did we get here Hanamaki: at least ask HIM to finger u  Hanamaki: because this shit is DEpressing >>: i’m blocking your number Hanamaki: u’ve seen his hands right >>: bye Hanamaki: cool i’ll email u xo

Groaning, you bury your face under the covers. 

—

“I had an idea. A really dumb idea, actually. It’s kind of Makki’s fault, but—“

Matsukawa looks up from where he’s pouring a glass of water, brows furrowing. 

“—and honestly just feel free to say no and forget this ever happened—“

He blinks, putting down the cup and leaning against the counter, crossing his arms as he waits for you to fumble through this never ending lead up to a question that’s been eating at the back of your mind all week. 

“Can you uh…could you maybe…”

Matsukawa moves a little closer to you, leaning in, as if his proximity is going to help encourage you to drag the rest of the words from where they’re clinging to the backs of your teeth. 

“CouldyoufingermeinaplatonicwaysoIcanfigureoutifI’mjustbrokenorsomething.”

You say it all in a single breath. 

Matsukawa chokes. 

“You think you’re the problem?” he asks, taken aback. 

“I mean, yeah? If it’s supposed to feel good, and it doesn’t for me, then maybe I—“

“Go put on something that makes you feel sexy,” he interrupts you calmly.

Your heart lurches in your chest. “What? Right now!?” you squeak. 

Matsukawa walks over to the kitchen sink, glancing back at you over his shoulder as he slowly presses down the pump on the foaming soap and thoroughly washes his hands. 

You’re not sure how or why that sight alone already leaves your throat dry. 

He nods. “Put on whatever makes you feel good. It doesn’t matter what it looks like. We’re not going anywhere. And then go in my bedroom, lay down in my bed, and text me when you’re ready.”

Fifteen minutes later, you find yourself on your stomach in Matsukawa’s bed, legs idly kicking in the air to expel the nervous energy simmering in your gut. 

And while it was borderline mortifying trying to pick out something “sexy” to wear before tiptoeing into his bedroom, you realize why he said it now as you hit send on a message that simply reads “Ready.”

Because now that you’re lying here in a short, pleated skirt that’s lived in the back of your closet for years, thigh high socks, a delicate, lacy bralette that you’ve yet to find a reason to wear, and a thong with a little pink bow nestled just above your ass—

Now that you’re wrapped up in the familiar scent of Matsukawa’s body wash in a way that’s far more intimate than stealing his clothes or falling asleep on his shoulder on the couch—

Now that you know he’s seconds away from seeing you like this in his bed, from slipping his fingers beneath your skirt—

Well, you can already feel it—the slick, sticky arousal soaking its way into your panties. 

“Wow,” Matsukawa murmurs as he walks in, striding over to the foot of the bed. “Nice socks.”

You go to roll over, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious, and he shakes his head. “No, stay like that.”

Turning back onto your stomach, you push your phone aside, hugging one of his pillows to your face—though you almost regret it when you subsequently end up burying your nose in the warm and admittedly dizzying scent of him once more. Meanwhile, you feel the mattress dip as he climbs atop it. 

“If at any point you want me to stop, let me know, okay?”

You nod, and he slowly starts to run his hands up the backs of your thighs, stopping just shy of the hem of your skirt. 

“Didn’t you wear this to that costume party at Oikawa’s a few years ago?”

The first and only time you wore it, given how its meager length leaves almost nothing to the imagination. 

“Yeah,” you laugh, though it’s a little weak, given the way he’s now rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs against the inside of your thighs. 

Unintentionally, you spread your legs somewhat for him at the sensation, toes curling. He chuckles quietly. 

Matsukawa’s fingers finally slide up your skirt, his large hands resting on either of your ass cheeks. You try to fight the sudden urge to arch your spine into his touch. 

“Is this still okay?”

You nod, and he squeezes. 

A moan slips out past your lips before you can stop it. 

“Oh,” you breathe out, fingers grasping his silky dark green sheets for purchase as he begins to massage the globes of your ass. 

“Does that feel good?” he asks. 

He squeezes a little harder, and there’s a euphoric release of tension that seeps through your muscles.

“So good,” you mumble, face pressed sideways against his pillow. Which you may or may not have drooled on. 

Cool air licks and settles against your backside as Matsukawa grasps your skirt and pushes it out of the way. Your thong tightens against your skin with tension for a moment, snapping back lightly once he lets it go.

Sliding his palm down the center of your ass, he brings his hand back to your thighs and stretches his fingers outward, effectively spreading your legs further. You inhale, toes pressing down into the mattress at the foot of the bed. 

“Oh, do you want me to take these off?” he pauses, idly toying with the string of your thong. 

And while it would certainly be easier, there’s something about the evidence of your arousal soaking into the material, something about the way the lace tugs against your skin—

You shake your head. 

“Good, the bow is cute.”

He runs a finger over the delicate piece of ribbon, and you’re thankful he can’t see the embarrassing way you swallow in response. 

“Is flattery a part of the process?” you ask. 

You can almost hear the grin on his face as he slowly feathers a finger against the wet spot on your panties and replies, “Is it not working?”

“You’re terrible,” you laugh, despite the shiver that runs through you. 

“Save your breath.”

You turn slightly to look back at him, brows furrowed. “For wha—“

Your words are cut off by the moan that crawls up your throat without warning as the pad of Matsukawa’s middle finger suddenly slides down the length of your creamy slit. 

It catches you off guard, how good that little bit of contact feels. How sensitive you are for him. How—

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re wet,” he murmurs, one digit now circling around the rim of your puffy, fluttering entrance while another long finger draws through your folds once more. 

He’s hardly doing anything, and it already sounds obscene. 

Your chest burns, and your heart thunders in your chest as you find yourself arching your ass up off of the bed. The skirt flops back down over your backside in the process, and Matsukawa’s quick to push it back out of the way, his large hand pressing into the small of your back. 

The pillow case grows more damp against your cheek as you quietly pant against it. 

“Matsukawa,” you whine, hips pressing backward again as he ghosts a finger over your swollen clit before dragging two digits back through your folds. Your cunt aches. 

“You have to tell me if you don’t like how it feels, okay?”

He runs his thumb across your dripping hole. 

“Matsukawa,” you gasp again, one hand tightly grasping the top edge of the mattress. 

“Just tell me to stop, and I will,” he promises, slipping the tip of a finger into your entrance. Barely past the fingernail. 

“Issei, please,” you nearly sob, spreading your legs even further for him. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

He lets out a noisy, rough exhale. One that’s a stark contrast to his easy, syrupy tone. 

But you can hardly hear it as he slides his finger into your cunt, not stopping until he’s at the last knuckle. 

You can hardly hear it over the desperate, needy moan that he drags out of you on one finger alone. 

Matsukawa takes his time exploring your tight inner walls, alternating between pumping his finger in and out while you keen for him and keeping it lodged inside as he curls and strokes your wet channel. 

It’s never felt like this. 

Not with anyone. 

Not even with your own fingers. 

But this—

It feels like you’re burning from the inside out, like your nerves are on the verge of going up in flames. 

It’s just one long, deft finger sliding in and out of the eager, needy grip of your pussy. Your tight, soaking wet pussy that’s nowhere near full enough yet still pulsing and dripping with pleasure all the same. 

It’s just a single finger, and yet your voice is going hoarse from the moans tumbling from your lips, the repeated whimpers of Matsukawa’s name as your sticky arousal slides down the palm of his hand. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he rasps, voice a little rougher than it was before. 

“I’m probably making a mess all over your bed,” you mutter against the pillow. 

“Good,” you swear you hear him breathe out before he asks, “Still overrated?” His free hand slides beneath the waistband of your thong,  wrapping around your hip bone. 

“It’s never, I’ve never—“ you gasp. 

“Because you sleep with guys who do it for themselves, who see it as a necessity to getting their dick inside of you,” Matsukawa replies in a calm tone that’s a stark contrast to the way you’re unravelling beneath him. “I just want you to feel good. This isn’t about me.”

And you’ve also never been fingered like this—face down, prone. With your pebbled nipples rubbing against your lace bralette and a too-short skirt rucked up around your waist. In a sopping wet thong that keeps rubbing against your clit every time Matsukawa nudges it out of the way, with thigh high socks that continue to slip down lower and lower as you writhe in pleasure against the mattress. 

You’ve never been fingered by Matsukawa Issei. Your roommate and your best friend who’s a little too handsome for his own good. Who you’ve had more wet dreams about than you can count. 

Matsukawa Issei and his stupidly long, dexterous fingers. Two of which are now stuffed in your tight hole, massaging your inner walls while you drool on his pillow like it’s his cock that’s stuffed inside of you instead. 

Matsukawa Issei, who’s somehow on the verge of making you forget every dick you’ve ever had inside of you by fucking you with his fingers and his fingers alone. 

“Don’t flatter me that much yet, not till I make you come,” he murmurs, stroking your throbbing clit. 

And oh—you fucking said that last bit out loud. 

Not that you can bring yourself to care when the coil of heat in your gut is wrapped so tight you can hardly breathe. Every muscle in your body tenses under the liquid pleasure that sears its way down your spine with a bite that has you trembling, sheets slipping beneath the feeble grasp of your shaking hands. 

You end up pushing yourself onto your knees as Matsukawa purposely slows his pace, like he’s not ready for you to come yet. Like he wants to edge you until the whole goddamn mattress is soaked.

“Issei,” you whimper in a small, breathless voice that you can hardly believe is your own. 

And suddenly you find yourself being tugged backwards into his lap, your legs spread, your back to his chest. You barely have time to marvel over the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your ass through his pants, not when his lips ghost against the shell of your ear before he rests his chin against your shoulder. 

Matsukawa slides his fingers back inside of you, and you moan at the angle, at the way his mouth ends up tucked into the crook of your neck when you roll your hips into his touch. His lips are hot against your skin as he traces the column of your neck, cunt squelching wetly while your pussy greedily takes in the stretch of his digits over and over. 

And then he presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your pulse point, biting and sucking at the sensitive spot while your cunt throbs, as you shake with a full-body shiver, as the damn of pleasure inside of you snaps and overflows with an orgasm that leaves tears in your eyes as you sob his name. 

Matsukawa tilts your chin and finds your mouth with his, claiming your lips in a messy, spit-soaked kiss as you ride out your climax. 

It’s only once you stop shuddering in pleasure that you remember how hard he felt beneath you, and you go to slip a hand between your bodies—

“It’s okay,” he exhales, sounding just as out of breath as you feel.

“You don’t want me to—“ You try not to sound as disappointed as you feel over his sudden rejection.

His eyes go a little wide. “No, no. No, it’s that. I just…uh…I already…”

You blink at him. “I didn’t think that was actually a thing that happens.”

Did he really just come in his—

Matsukawa rubs the back of his neck, biting his bottom lip. “It’s never happened to me before, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh?”

For some reason, you feel more than a little smug at these words.

“First time for everything I guess,” he grins.

“Overrated?” you ask coyly, warmth swelling in your chest.

Matsukawa shakes his head, lips brushing against yours when he leans in and murmurs against your mouth, “Definitely not.”

[h4sanz]

— yes, my lady : sebastian michaelis x f!reader

content warnings! reader is a descendant of the phantomhive family, power imbalance (master/servant) but also (human/demon), somewhat monsterfucking if you squint (i wanted to make use of his ‘true form’ a little), smut, size difference, manhandling, praise, pet names (my lady, darling, dear), orgasm control, sacrilege, a tiny bit of blood, topics of loneliness

summary: after another tiresome day out in the world, you are greeted with your recent mistake—sebastian. a hand-me-down from your ancestors that you summoned by chance and who now apparently has a contract with you. yet this modern world, working women, independence, and your awfully bratty attitude are challenges that are entirely new to him. however, he did swear to serve you. so, allow him to take care of his tired "mistress"

wordcount: 5k | my kinktober masterlist

It’s not every day that your job becomes stressful enough to fully tire you out. But today, today was even more draining than you had anticipated. Deep red eyes watch your tired form from across the hallway, raking over your figure as the owner remains quiet. Sebastian hasn't quite understood the fulfillment behind humans working themselves to the bone, nor the desire for young women to eagerly venture out to conquer “corporate,” as you once called it.

Yet, understanding or not, he is sworn to serve you and look after you. You are in his care until the contract is completed.

For this, he steps forward, his touch as sultry and gentle as his voice that welcomes you home. “My Lady,” the demon begins, as strength returns to your figure upon the stabilising hold of his hands on the small of your back while you remove your heels. You meet his smile with a glare from your pretty eyes, still wary of your newly added decor.

“I can handle myself just fine, Sebastian.” Yes, you’re a feisty one. Sebastian has been well aware of that fact since the moment you met. You dislike men staring at you in the street, loathe the forced small talk with them at work, or having to humour one of them when all you want is to be in the safety and comfort of your home. The once safe haven you now share with some sort of butler, or so he proclaimed. Never would you have expected such an outcome from your family’s antiques.

But here you are, the independent woman from before, now with a handsome devil at your beck and call. “You appear particularly exhausted tonight. Why not let me take care of you and help you to a restful night?” Sebastian proposes with gentle calmness to your vervour as his hands return to rest behind his back.

He irritates you. His act of concern for you when all he truly cares for is your soul. The motive is clear, yet he play-pretends to be something you cannot wrap your head around. “And what could you do for me?” you challenge in return, crossing your arms in front of your chest as the tip of your nose lifts a little higher to meet Sebastian’s gaze. “Anything you wish,” replies the butler, without a hint of malice in his words. “I would propose running a hot bath, brewing a warm cup of tea, and—” he pauses, clearly having caught himself with an idea you would despise.

The proposal sounds pleasing, almost exactly what you would do if you weren’t feeling too lazy to run a bath for yourself. But he doesn't need to know that. Your expression remains unfaltering, almost challenging. “And what? Speak, Sebastian.” The quirk of your brow ticks Sebastian off in just the right way, your confidence and demand a challenge he secretly enjoys.

The distance between your bodies grows smaller, and a gloved hand tips your chin up as red hues draw near. “A massage for your exhausted figure, my Lady.” He drawls the title, a pinch of condescension hidden in his words. You can’t resist the idea of standing on your toes, leaning further into his space to see him shrink away as your lips almost brush Sebastian’s while you speak: “Carry me, Sebastian.”

Yet, he does not shy away. He feels your pulse quicken, hears your heart drumming a beat of bravery, while your sweet lips could offer a relief he hasn’t felt in millennia. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth upon your demand and, without hesitation, you find yourself in his embrace. Knees and shoulders pressed firmly against his body, Sebastian carries you to your bedroom.

He knows tonight won’t be easy on him. Sebastian is well aware of the mischief you try to conceal, to seem more mature than you actually are. But tonight you appear different; tonight, you bring new challenges to your rendezvous once your head finds its rest on his shoulder. The tease of your breath against his neck, your smaller fingers playing with his necktie as you wet your lips. Nothing good comes from those pretty lips, Sebastian notes.

“Sebastian?” How can you suddenly say his name so softly? He looks down to you, the crimson tinge to his eyes making him appear like a starved hunter under the faint lights of the streetlamps and mood lights in your apartment. “The water is already set and at the perfect temperature for the female body.” Of course, he had heard your footsteps from afar and decided that tonight would be perfect for a bath. He is an expert at planning, at being one step ahead of everyone else. That is, until you continue speaking. A simple command, short and to the point, too alluring: “Undress me.”

You need to try harder if you wish to get a rise from him. For now, you find yourself seated on your bathroom counter with a newly found frown adorning your face. It doesn’t suit you, but it entertains Sebastian. “Your wish is my command,” he speaks an octave lower, honey almost dripping from his words before skilled fingers smooth out the fabric of your blouse. Sebastian’s gaze does not meet yours while he unbuttons it; he stays focused on the task without lusting over your exposed skin.

Suddenly, you wish he would want to devour you. The gloved touch that teases your upper body is not enough, yet so close to the fulfilling feeling of desire that you miss.

The clothing item is pushed off your shoulders before his touch ghosts along your waist. “May I continue?” The question is accompanied by one hand held out to you, palm facing up for you to grasp and rise to your feet. In one swift move, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror as Sebastian spins you around to undo the intricate buttons of your skirt you had struggled with this morning—why must designers place them in such difficult spots?

To nobody’s surprise, they are undone as quickly as your blouse, before your silk dress follows suit and pools around your ankles, leaving you in nothing but a tantalising set of underwear—dark red, almost a perfect match to Sebastian’s eyes. You eyes meet through the mirror and you refuse to shy away. No, like the little vixen that you are, you lean forward just enough to expose yourself further to your demon as you pretend to busy yourself by wiping off your lipstick.

It feels humbling to witness his gaze remain unfaltering; Sebastian continues to look into your eyes rather than the places you want his greed to be. “I will prepare your tea now,” he states as business continues as usual before leaving you alone.

A sigh is all you allow yourself as your shoulders slump. You really tried to seduce him. At the thought, you find a smile tugging at your mouth, the lust to be desired something that has been missing for a while now in your life. You know work, you know how to overwork yourself, and you have no time for flings or meaningless encounters. That was when he entered the picture.

Upon Sebastian’s return, he finds you seated in the bathtub; You’ve made sure to keep your hair out of the water and expose your neck, for hungry eyes to appreciate the shein layer of damp on your skin. The plate beneath the teacup meets the ceramic of your bathtub as your widened—nearly pleading—eyes shoot up to challenge his. If only you had acted a second quicker, you would have caught him staring at your cleavage, barely covered by the water and foam.

“Is there anything else you may need?” Sebastian inquires. He hates to admit it, but tonight seems like a greater challenge than he anticipated. How the simple word “You” could weaken a demon of his calibre is something for future Sebastian to concern himself with. Present Sebastian relishes the desire tugging at his stomach, the way you stare at him so submissively. Until you continue speaking: “Massage me, my butler.”

You turn your back to him as he takes his place behind you on the edge of the bathtub. Would you still be so smug if he grabbed your cheeks between his fingertips? If he forced you to look deep into his eyes while coaxing the cutest sounds past your lips? How can you act this way when at night you hump your pillow and beg for more, something better? Yet in the daylight, you behave like a spoiled princess, and he only adds to that imaginary status of yours. How badly he would love to ruin it. One or two more slip-ups, and he might find a loophole in your contract and commands.

To your dismay, gloved hands meet the skin of your neck. “Take them off, Sebastian. Touch me fully.” Your words bounce off the bathroom tiles, and his reply of “Yes, my lady,” echoes back. Shivers elicit along your neck as his skin touches yours, and the strength behind Sebastian’s touch massages the knots and the sorrow from your shoulders.

The moment is sweet enough to let your eyes fall closed, your head resting against Sebastian’s thigh as you sigh a gentle moan of relief. The sound snaps Sebastian’s attention to your face. With your eyes closed, he allows himself a moment to admire your features. Even a demon can admit that some humans are indeed beautiful. Sometimes, that beauty doesn’t surpass their soul, but in your case, there is something so unique about you that captivates Sebastian’s attention and lust.

You catch him staring as your eyes flutter open, the position you find yourself in so vulnerable, with him leaning above you. “Naughty butler…” you tease, and Sebastian wants to wipe that cheeky smirk right off your face. “If you have so much time to stare at me, you might as well wash my body for me.” The disrespectful teasing, as if he were nothing more than a pet, reminds Sebastian of someone else, someone he couldn’t wait to devour many years ago. But what else could he do but make himself useful for now?

In a swift move, Sebastian shrugs off his jacket and pushes up the sleeves of his buttoned shirt before kneeling beside your bathtub. He appears disinterested again, putting on a perfect mask of nonchalance as he runs the washcloth along your shoulders and arms, warming your figure and letting rose-scented water wash the sorrows away.

Until you’ve had enough of this act. Until you grow overly confident as you lean into his proximity: Your fingers lace around Sebastian’s wrist like a personal handcuff, your eyes locking onto his. “Be more thorough, Sebastian. Wash away the filth.” You go as far as to help him run the cloth over your chest. The drag of his nails against your sensitive skin sends shivers down your spine, and Sebastian watches you attentively, to witness your pupils dilate, the pink tip of your tongue darting out to wet your lips as your noses almost touch. He has never obeyed such a troublesome person before.

You start to bring out the worst in him—something that wants to teach you a lesson, something to remind you how different the roles could be if it weren't for this contract. The washcloth is pushed over your breasts and dips beneath the surface of the water to run along your stomach before being abandoned entirely as Sebastian’s fingers dip into the supple flesh of your thighs. Blunt nails drag along your inner thighs, and he loves to watch the shift in your demeanour; how you grow shy beneath his touch, your stare faltering as he draws dangerously close to your sacred area.

There is no bite to your bark as you cry out his name, your need for him too evident while you try to maintain a pretence. "S-Sebastian!" Finally, you act as your thighs press shut around his hand, panic ever so evident in your pretty eyes he can't stop the devilish smirk from spreading across his features. "My dear, don’t tell me you expect to play with fire and come out unharmed…"

The next moment, your back meets the cold stone as Sebastian races forward, hands placed left and right from your figure on the edge of the bathtub. The impact forces a puff of air to escape your lips as your eyes snap up to meet your butler’s dark pair, searching for a trace of humanity in those pools of crimson. "Behave…" you attempt to regain control, which is met with a chuckle. "I only follow your commands," he challenges as the cloth returns to clean your body. "You wanted me to be thorough, let me be thorough."

However, the lips that crash against the racing pulse in your neck have nothing to do with the command of cleaning your body. Sebastian acts upon his own selfish accord, upon the lust you’ve ignited by teetering too close to the dangerous territories of demonic desires.

And he makes you feel too good as he ravages you, suckling and nipping at your skin until you can't help but moan, your head falling back to offer him more space. You can't even think of a fitting command, the sweet words for him to "Don’t stop, please," a much more natural reaction as his palms cup your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples until you whimper ever so prettily.

"Who would have thought you could turn into such a sweet darling?" Sebastian teases with whispered words against the shell of your ear, the hum that follows so deep and low it has your stomach fluttering. Your fingers lace between his dark strands, effectively holding him in place as you return to being face-to-face with Sebastian. Shamelessly, you allow yourself to rake your eyes over his sharp features. You've never wanted anything more than him. But the thought evaporates upon the sharp sensation of nails against your waistline and hips, upon the pair of fingers pushing between your folds before rubbing against your clit.

Oh? How willingly you part your legs now, Sebastian muses.

"Is this thorough enough, my lady?" he mocks as his fingertips press against the opening of your pussy, your eager hole giving way slightly as he pushes past. He knows what he’s doing to you. He sees it in the crease of your brow, feels it as your hips buck against his touch. "More, Sebastian, I need more tonight." Like the greedy thing you are, you take it upon yourself to play with your breasts, yet the silent plea in your eyes tells your butler all you want is for him to take care of you.

“Oh dear,” he whispers gently, but smiles victoriously as your moans tumble from your trembling lips when two of his fingers push inside you. "Do you give yourself to me? Allow me full reign, hm?"

The idea sounds great, perfect, until you manage to flutter your heavy eyes open and see the devious apparition in front of you. Sebastian’s eyes are more slanted, set ablaze, deep pink hues now replacing his usual red, with lust overflowing past his thick lashes as pointed teeth hide behind his full lips. Giving yourself to a demon doesn’t seem like the best idea, but the fingers stimulating your gummy spot have you nodding regardless. How lucky you are that you need to use words under these circumstances.

“Darling, tell me,” Sebastian urges as his thrusts become harsher, uncaring for the water or your comfort as your tits bounce and your walls clamp so promisingly. “N-no, no, Sebastian! Just, ah—” you falter as you try your best to stay present, to keep control over this demon while he fingerfucks you. “Think, speak, quickly, little Lady,” he further pressures you. What he wouldn’t give to do with your body whatever he wants. “Just-, just tonight! Sebastian—” the way you moan his name makes you a sinner itself, it should send you to all seven hells as the echoes ring inside his mind. “Look after me, tonight,” you finally manage to cry out as your walls pull in desperate need. “Make me feel good,” your final demand.

But instead of sweet release, you feel the disappointing emptiness as he retracts his fingers, leaving you a heaving mess in your bathtub—only now do you notice how cold the water has turned. “You can ask more nicely than that, my dear.” There is little consideration to be spared for the length of your bath once a strong arm wraps around your waist. Sebastian wastes no time in having you seated on his lap, your wet form drenching his clothing as he spreads your legs over his thighs and presses you flush against his chest. “I will look after you until the day you die,” he whispers into your ear, and maybe if the words weren’t so true and less intimidating, you could consider them romantic.

You notice that Sebastian’s form has returned to fully human, with almost tender eyes meeting yours this time around, turning your desire mellow and seasoned with sweetness. “Kiss me, please.”

He follows suit as your lips crash together a moment later, his palms stabilising your back in his hold. “More…” you breathe. Your fingers reach out to guide one of his hands on your back, between the valley of your tits, down your stomach, until you ultimately buck your hips against his, seeking further friction in desperate need. He tightens his hold on your body, tugging gently at your frame as he leans forward to suck on your wet skin, leaving marks in his wake. A small grin tugs at his lips as a soft whimper escapes you. “What’s wrong?” The whispered question makes goosebumps spread over your skin as the chill of his breath battles with the warmth of your bathroom.

“Want to be ruined by you.” The words that fall past your lips seal your fate. “Please, make me feel good, Sebastian.” You sound so desperate, only a fool would resist. “Taint me,” you shamelessly sigh against his ear, “Let me feel you.”

“Taint you…” he murmurs, halting his movements momentarily to witness you grow impatient before one of his arms holds a firm grip around your waist, restricting your movements as you’re now fully pressed against his chest. “How much more does my little Lady want to be tainted?” His free hand ghosts along your puffy lips, your slick making the drag too easy, too appealing to not draw circles into your clit, only pulling back any time he feels you squirm on his lap. Your little cries are music to Sebastian’s ears. It’s so good, too good, the way his fingers move, almost as if he already knows all your weak spots. “Do you wish to experience bliss only I could give you, and ruin yourself for all eternity?” His questions urge you to wrap your arms around him, to hide your face in the gentle embrace of a monster, as though you’re trying to hide from judgement itself upon your immoral fantasies. “I wish for that, Sebastian.”

No further words are needed, not when your lips convey more as they meet Sebastian's. A kiss so fierce, he may steal the air from your lungs and drag you to hell himself. Teeth pull at your bottom lip unapologetically, his tongue meeting with your own, entwining with another until you taste him. Meanwhile, the familiar stretch of his fingers, accompanied by the filthy squelching of your arousal, threatens to overload your senses. The teasing returns as your lips part to allow Sebastian a front row seat to your desperate play, as his thumb presses into your clit. You really yearn for this orgasm, don’t you? Of course, you do, with how tightly you clench around his digits, pulsing as though you’re trying to keep him inside—as if he couldn’t offer you a much better alternative.

“Let go, my dear, you look so beautiful right now, I want to see you come undone for me.” Sebastian encourages, as his fingers expertly curl against your walls, each time pushing past the limits of what you’re able to take. So you let go, finally, allowing your eyes to shut as your fingers fist the fabric of his dress shirt. He’s never received praise in a prayer-like form, the sighing thank-yous tumbling free between your moans, so unlike the feisty thing you pretend to be. You are adorable. “Very good, my darling, just like that.” Sebastian whispers, as the movements slow down until his fingers still inside you, until the heaving of your chest and the trembling of your thighs calms, and you fall into his embrace.

But much to Sebastian's surprise, and despite his predictions about your exhaustion, you return his previous affections. Your lips kiss along his neck as you undo his necktie, fingertips already so eager to free him from the confines of his clothes, it makes Sebastian wonder who the real glutton between you two is. “My Lady,” he innocently halts your advances as he entwines his fingers with your own, kissing each tip while holding eye contact. “Shouldn’t we proceed to your chambers? I don’t wish to bring needless discomfort upon you—you need your strength to handle me.” At that, you feel his tongue drag along your pointer finger before a final kiss is placed on its tip, while a devious smile returns to Sebastian’s lips. If only you wouldn’t look so adorable each time he teases you. But you are already too far gone to keep up pretences, when you can instead allow someone else to finally be your resolve.

So it's only natural for you to command Sebastian once more. “Bring me to my bed,” you mumble while your arms already lace around his neck. He follows.

Yet it catches you by surprise once you’re simply dropped into your bouncy mattress and sea of pillows. However, in the next moment, you find yourself caged underneath Sebastian. Your hands roam free to undo his dress shirt and shrug it off his figure, allowing your nails to drag over his pearly skin until you reach his pants and finally feel what lies hidden behind the dark fabrics.

You seem in control, until firm hands spread your thighs and Sebastian leans in, to nibble along your inner legs, shining in the moonlight as he dives between your thighs to lap at your cunt, his tongue pushing past the tight ring of your entrance before dragging all over your hot and puffy pussy. He then licks and kisses his way up your stomach, sternum, and nipples, while the surprising satisfaction of his cock—hot, hard, and leaking with pre-cum—coats itself with your juices. He grinds against you until you writhe for more, until his hands find rest on the back of your knees so he can press your legs up against your sides, fully opening you to thrust into you without struggle, without restraint, as lust overcomes him.

You shake your head at the stretch of his girth welcoming your pussy, sweet pleas mixed with whiny complaints escaping your lips without much thought. “‘S too much, Sebastian… can’t…” you admit. The chuckle that follows is devious, before a soft sigh in satisfaction follows as tender lips place an adoring kiss to your cheek. “You will,” Sebastian whispers, followed by the command “Now just surrender to me.” His lips seek out your own once more as he picks up a relentless pace.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving red streaks that run deep. You can’t look at anything but him—his strong body on top of yours, the visible strain to his muscles while he ruts into you—until you find yourself once more captivated by his eyes. He almost looks at you lovingly, no hungrily. But Sebastian doesn't just want to consume your soul; no, his desires reach beyond basic greed. He wants to own you, to keep you to himself, to reign over you until your best years are over. You can see it clearly while swimming in crimson. But with the delicious drag of his cock inside your walls, you might just let him. Who would have expected you to be tamed this well by getting fucked?

“Please, please, please,” you exhale as your head lolls from side to side, writhing beneath your very own demon. Oh? You’re quick to beg. Quick to turn desperate, so eager to have more of something that should never have been yours. “Sebastian, Sebastian,” you repeat like a mantra as his hands hold your fragile body, digging into your hips to force you into a perfect arch for Sebastian to ravage your skin. He litters kisses over your chest, laps at your nipples, and drags your hips back down to snap against his while he is guided by gluttony.

“Give yourself to me,” you demand with no trace of shame in your bones, finally giving him a task worthy of your beautiful soul. “Stay with me, be mine…”

You almost feel dizzy with how easily Sebastian hoists you up until you’re on all fours, ass perfectly exposed for him to fully sheath his cock inside you, effectively pushing your upper body into your sea of pillows. But in stark contrast to his rather harsh handling of your body, his lips return to press soft kisses along your back. “I am yours if you are mine, my darling.” The words flow like honey before your blood coats Sebastian’s tongue as he breaks the skin, engraving himself on your skin.

Your fingers dig into the cushions, searching for support as you struggle. But the strong arm lacing around your body is all the comfort you will need from now on; his cold touch will soon set you ablaze.

Sebastian is deep inside you, the head of his cock finding your sweet spot almost naturally as he perfectly curves against your velvet walls, hips snapping against your ass with unforeseen fervour. His hands dig into your hips, surely bruising your hip bones for the coming days, but you’ve never felt this good before. Never so full, never as cared for as by the monster that is in love with your soul. You moan his name in delight, making Sebastian proud once you eagerly bounce back into his thrusts.

The husky sounds of pleasure grow clearer as his movements slow down. You feel yourself being further pushed against the mattress, to spread your legs wider and arch deeper, for his penetration to slowly steal your sanity. Who would have expected the pressure of his palm against your stomach would make you clamp around him this much? Moaning, whimpering, pleading as you beg for mercy, trying to tell him it’s too… “Too good, Sebastian, I’m—”

His movements are slow but precise, accentuating the way you desperately clamp around him in an attempt to hold him inside you for eternity. “Yes, fall apart. Let go for me,” Sebastian’s eyes roam over your smaller body beneath him—a sweaty, shaking mess. He will take care of that right after you are done. For now, instead of worrying, his hands grab at your ass almost aggressively, spreading your lower lips even further as he ruts into you.

The high-pitched squeal that escapes your throat when he picks up his pace again serves as a perfect display of your misery. Tears prick at the sides of your eyes as your hips are pushed back to meet Sebastian’s relentless thrusts. “Make me proud, little Lady...” his final demand, with sneaky fingers returning to play with your clit as he hoists you off the bed, holding you tightly against his chest.

You’re fully seated on his cock, entirely engulfed by his embrace and consumed by the demon, just as you bask in the sweet release coursing through your veins. Sebastian allows himself to be lost in your pretty cries and the way your pussy practically drips from both of your orgasms. True to his nature, he watches you like a devil on your shoulder; dark red eyes witnessing your fucked-out expression while the cutest smile illuminates your features.

His lips caress your neck as he whispers, “Do you feel better now?” You hum and let your fingers card through his hair, a tired “I do. Thank you, Sebastian” exchanged from your mouth to his ear.

Swiftly, Sebastian moves to carry you back to your spacious bathtub and lets it refill with warmth. “How about my Lady actually relaxes this time around?”

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[h4sanz]

SINCE YOU'VE BEEN LIKE THIS ♡

pairing: light yagami x fem!reader x l lawliet

summary: you and light have been a pair for as long as you can remember, but lately he's been pulling away. in your time of uncertainty, you end up getting close to l, maybe a little too close. now light's back to normal though, and you're left to figure out how you want to fix the mess you've made.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, double penetration, fingering, handjob, threesome, voyeurism/exhibitionism, praise/degradation, infidelity, messy behavior in general, light angst here and there

wc: 19.6k

a/n: finally it is here <3 sorry for the delay, it has been a rough couple weeks. reblogs, comments, and asks are always appreciated <3 also i just have to put out there that my main in mario kart is waluigi till the day i perish 🙏

kinktober slot: day 27 - double penetration

"Light, can you slow down a little? Or at least tell me where we're going?" you called out to your boyfriend walking three paces ahead of you. Three paces he seemed hellbent on keeping between you and him.

He didn't answer your plea. Didn't even spare you a glance. On the contrary, you were pretty sure he sped up ever so slightly.

With a petulant huff, you tried to follow him along the crowded street as best you could. It was just difficult when you didn't really know why you were here or what you were supposed to be looking for. He never kept you well-informed when it came to his plans. Most of the time, you were shocked he even let you tag along at all.

His eyes constantly darted around between groups of people lining the path in the most subtle way. His head didn't move at all, but his pupils bounced around in every direction. Yours remained on his figure. At first, you'd tried glancing around too, but you couldn't figure out for the life of you who or what he was trying to find. You decided to just focus on not getting lost instead.

Bounding up closer to him, your fingers brushed his own. His hands had always been so smooth and soft. No calluses, no blemishes. No mileage at all. You went to intertwine your fingers together. That was when he finally acknowledged you.

He pulled his hand away.

You frowned, choosing to believe it was accidental. That your boyfriend wouldn't reject you so purposefully. You tried again with more intention, clasping with your whole palm rather than hooking pinkies.

His response matched your increased effort. He bent his arm at the elbow and pulled his hand out of your reach, fully removing the opportunity for physical contact. Then, he scowled at you, and his lips curled into that sneer you were becoming more familiar with these days.

"What are you doing? We're here to work," he said, talking to you the same way he talks to anyone else who inconveniences him, "This isn't a date. Try to focus."

"Light, I-" you went to defend yourself. But he cut you off before you got the chance.

"If you're not interested in helping, then stay out of my way," he directed before turning away.

Your lips closed up again, any words wilting away in your throat like a bouquet of old roses. You swallowed the petals down hard. You couldn't get emotional, let alone cry. If you did that, your lover would never let you hear the end of his disappointment.

Your lover. You didn't even know if it was accurate to call him that anymore. More like you were the lover, and he was your beloved. Your Light.

The two of you had been together in a way for as long as you could remember. Friends as children, crushes in your teens, and now as adults, officially boyfriend and girlfriend. You'd wanted this for so long - to say he belonged to you, that you were the ones who owned each other's hearts. But now that you had that, it didn't feel how you imagined it would.

You looked down as you traversed through the crowd. 

The relationship between you and Light didn't feel like a fairy tale. It didn't resemble the romantic movies he used to tease you for liking. You could never imagine him kissing you in the rain or singing some love song or whatever else the guys in those movies did to win back the girls after hurting them.

When Light hurt you, either by brushing you off or saying words cold enough to freeze your pumping heart, he barely even said sorry. He'd give you the look, mutter a "I didn't mean it like that," and if you were lucky, half-hug you and kiss the crown of your head.

He hadn't always been so uncaring. A cloud had cast over him at some point during your teenage years, worse than any usual case of angst. His mental storm seemed to block out any rays of sunlight permanently. In recent months, it had gotten worse. Ever since the start of this investigation. 

The two of you were supposed to be entering the primes of your lives. Enrolled in university, beginning everything together. But he just grew darker by the day, and you didn't know how to stop it. You could feel him dissolving into ash between your fingers. Slipping away while you desperately tried to hold onto whatever you could.

Barbs started to form in your throat and clearing it didn't help any. Reflecting on your crumbling relationship always reduced you to a state of silence or tears. 

You counted the cracks in the street as you walked. It didn't matter to you if you lagged behind and got separated from Light at this point. He made it clear you weren't needed nor wanted. Getting lost wouldn't really mean anything. You could just make your way back to the task force earlier than you'd anticipated. He probably wouldn't even notice your absence.

A few steps ahead, you bumped into his back, earning another glare. He seemed to have come to a dead end in his search. Groaning in frustration, his eyes landed upon you, even harsher than before.

"Don't just stare at me!" he snapped, "Call back to the task force. Let them know we'll be returning soon."

The words struck you as if they were physical arrows. You turned away and pulled out your phone, flipping it open and dialing the number. The tone rang over the painful silence between you two. You tried to choke down any scratchiness your emotions could cause in your voice before someone answered the phone.

Suddenly, a calm voice echoed into your ear.

"Yes?"

L.

"Hi... me and Light will be back soon," you said. The less words you used, the less likely you were to crack.

There was a pause. You wondered if he could tell if something was wrong. You almost hoped that was the case.

"Alright. I take it you two didn't see our target?" he asked.

"No," you answered in the same quiet voice, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I didn't expect the two of you would be successful," he said. His voice was soft, like he truly didn't mind. The exact opposite of your boyfriend's. "We'll talk when the both of you return to the hotel."

He hung up first, and you flipped your phone shut seconds after. Turning to face Light, you found him already staring at you.

"He says he'll talk to us when we come back," you informed him.

All you got in response was a nod. He brushed past you in the direction of the hotel everyone was at for the day. Following along behind him, you didn't say anything. You folded your arms over your chest, not in defiance or anger. It felt defensive.

As you trailed him, the thoughts swirling through your mind consumed most of your attention. Why did you even continue doing this? You were just as much a member of the task force as Light, but he treated you like you were a secretary at best. 

In the past, your father had worked with Mr. Yagami as a detective. You'd grown up in the world of suspects and investigations, taught to solve puzzles since you were old enough to keep yourself upright on your dad's lap at his desk. 

L himself had approved you to work on the Kira investigation independent of that fact. He saw that you could keep up. But still, it felt like everyone treated you as Light's sidekick. You were cute! Smart for a girl. So sweet to dedicate all this time to helping your boyfriend.

By the time you reached the elevator, you were talking yourself up to quitting. You wanted to catch Kira. You believed in this job. But maybe if you cut your losses now, you could still salvage a relationship with Light. Or at least your perception of him. You wouldn't come to resent him if he wasn't yelling at you day in and day out.

You stayed behind him as the two of you walked down the hallway to the room. The lamps lining the walls flickered, making the already dim lighting worse. Your eyes stayed down on your shoes through the entryway and into the room. Light briefly caught up his dad on the day's events, and then you heard that same voice that talked to you over the phone.

You looked up. And suddenly, quitting didn't seem like such a perfect plan.

The syllables of your name rolled off his tongue like smooth billows of smoke. Something fluttered in your belly that you hadn't felt in a while. You used to feel it for Light until every time he spoke your name, it came out with disdain.

L talked, but you only half-registered the words. He was more focused on the points your boyfriend was firing at him anyway. You watched how his dark eyes focused as he absorbed everything about the conversation happening between them.

Your own gaze on him held nothing but admiration. You felt things about L that you wouldn't be able to articulate if asked. At first, you had the same reaction to him that everyone did. You thought he was strange. From the way he sat to his eating habits, you didn't understand him. But over the course of the investigation, you dedicated yourself to trying.

In a way, you looked to him as an aspiration. The pinnacle in the field of investigation. Quite possibly the smartest man in the world (though you'd bet Light would roll his eyes if he heard you say that out loud).

As you watched him now, his crooked posture and jaw rotating while he chewed on some saccharine treat, you began to mentally revise some of your earlier thoughts.

He was the only one who didn't view you as an extension of Light. When you were working with him, you weren't the feminine version of someone else. You were just you.

The only time you believed you deserved to be here just as much as Light was when you were sitting near L. You'd propose an idea or question something, and the way he would look at you made you feel like you weren't just a little kid everyone allowed to play dress up among adults. He'd give you a simple praise. "Nice work," or "Could be. Interesting." And you'd beam like you'd been given a trophy.

Right now though, even his proximity didn't help to brighten your mood. The clouds from your boyfriend snapping at you hadn't cleared just yet.

The conversation occurring in front of you came to a close. Light gave a quick goodbye and then turned to head out after his father. He clearly expected you to follow, but before you could, something else drew your focus. L, saying your name again.

"If you could, may I ask you to stay for a few moments?" he said, expression unchanging.

"What do you need to talk to her for?" Light interjected before you had the chance to answer.

Your head swiveled between the two of them. On one side was L, calm and unbothered by the clipped nature of your boyfriend's voice. On the other was the latter, his mouth twitching with the urge to scowl.

If you didn't know Light as well as you do, you might have thought this was a bout of jealousy. With the current state of things between you two, that might have even made you happy. A sign that he was still invested in you. But you did know him, so you knew that if anything, he was jealous of the fact that L had deemed information suitable for only you.

"It's nothing serious. Just a few questions about some files she brought to my attention last week," L further explained.

You stood there unmoving, as if you needed Light's permission to talk to your teammate. Looking back at him, you waited for some sign of approval.

He glanced at you and then back at the man behind you before shrugging.

"Fine. I'll see you later," he told you, barely saying goodbye as he exited.

The rest of the task force had also cleared the room for the day, leaving you and L in the cool hotel room alone. Your eyes glanced around to distract your mind from the awkwardness of the situation. The tacky pink wallpaper plastered all around you felt like it was closing in at the moment. The only sound between the four walls was the hum of the air conditioner. That was until he waved you over to the sitting area.

"Come here for a second. I wanted to talk to you." His voice sounded as though he didn't feel any of the tension you did.

You followed him as you had followed Light earlier, quiet and lagging behind a few steps. You took a seat on the ivory loveseat against the wall. He slid around the table. You expected him to sit in the chair at the end of the coffee table like he usually did, but instead, he landed next to you on the chiffon cushions. Your heart skipped a beat. You wondered if he was about to give you some sort of bad news. Maybe you'd made a mistake in your work. Maybe you were now a suspect too.

Regardless of what it was, he bent his legs up so his feet rested on the material. His normal crouching position put you at ease.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

You blinked at the question. "Um... no?" you said.

He hummed in acknowledgement. His process of studying one's features was slightly less endearing when you were the target.

"You seem upset. Are you sure you're alright?" he tried again.

"Yeah," you nodded. Your eyes cast down to your lap. "I'm ok, really. I'm sorry if I seem a little off. Just not a great day, I guess."

"Did something happen earlier when you were out?" he said, seeing right through the excuses.

You looked up again, bringing him back into your field of vision. "Not really..." you opted for, though you knew you sounded unconvincing.

"Nothing out of the ordinary?"

"Definitely not out of the ordinary," you sighed before you could stop yourself. Realizing you probably shouldn't have said that, you sunk back against the stiff backing of the sofa.

"What does that mean?" he asked from beside you.

You weren't totally sure why he was going down this line of questioning, but you answered anyway. L had never given you a reason not to trust him.

"It's just stupid stuff. Between me and Light. Nothing you'd want me to bother you with," you shrugged.

"Try me," he said.

You looked at him tentatively.

"Both of you are key members on this task force," he continued, "If something is affecting your ability to work with other members of this team, then I think it's in my best interest to know about it."

A moment of further hesitation passed before you sighed. Your hand rose to your eyes, stretching your fingers over your brow and rubbing at your frustration.

"He just doesn't seem like himself lately," you said, "Or he does, I guess. But he just... he's different with me."

You found your legs pulling closer to your body and your feet perching at the edge of your seat too. Maybe sitting like this did help you think.

"Distant?" L asked from his side of the furniture.

"Sort of... it's like he wants to be distant, but we work together so he can't be. I don't know," you said. You cut yourself short because you could feel your throat beginning to tighten, and you refused to let yourself cry in front of your teammate whose respect you so badly crave.

"Well. The stress of this whole case is probably weighing on Light, especially with him being a suspect..." he said, trailing off in the way he tended to do.

"I guess. It just feels like he can't even stand the sight of me anymore," you said. Your voice cracked the tiniest bit, but you knew he heard it. A shaky breath left you, and you tilted your head back, as if gravity could keep your tears at bay. "Not that long after we started dating, things just got different between us. It's just... disappointing."

The man beside you nodded as if trying to contemplate what to say next. "Have you talked to him about this?"

"Light doesn't do talks like this," you said, barely louder than a whisper.

Another plume of silence rose between the two of you. You swallowed hard, neck still against the back of the couch. Vaguely, you felt the pressure of the seats shifting, the weight on it redistributing.

You took your hand away from your brow and turned your head to find L much closer. His wide eyes stared at you from less than a foot away.

"Someone who cares about you shouldn't be making you so upset," he mused.

To stop your lip from wobbling, you held it between your teeth for a moment. Even though nothing audible came from you, a small drop of water rolled from the outer corner of your eye. Without missing a beat, his thumb came up to wipe it away. If you weren't yearning for someone to care about how you felt, maybe you would have been confused by it. But right then, it felt good.

"He's just so mean now. He was always sharp before but now... he looks at me like he hates me," you whispered.

He seemed to be the one hesitating now. His eyes rested on your features.

"You're an intelligent girl. Light is smart too, of course, but he has no right to order you around or insult you," he said, "I hope you don't feel like you have to put up with that because you work together."

The others had noticed it too then. You hadn't given any specific instances of how he treated you, but he still knew.

"I know I don't have to. I just... I don't know how to be without him," you said, feeling pathetic. You shouldn't need this guy you've only known for such a short amount of time to tell you this stuff. But as he spoke to you with such tenderness, you found yourself wishing he did it more often.

"You know you're a pretty girl. You're sweet and thoughtful. I'm sure there's a lot of people who would feel lucky if you gave them the time of day," he said. The words came out slow, as though he was traversing a field of landmines. "I'm only saying that because staying with someone out of obligation rarely pans out."

You simply nodded in response. What he was saying was the truth. Part of you already knew it. The other part just didn't want to quit yet. It was as if Light was another puzzle, and if you could just put the pieces together right, the picture would form in the end. But the part of you that had already been thinking what you just heard, that was the part that wanted to squirm when you heard the words pretty girl fall from L's lips.

"I know it's not really my place to comment on your relationship," he continued as though he could read your mind, "I just don't want to see you quit this. You're a valuable member of this task force. I would hate to see you run off by petty drama."

You nodded, his words steeling your resolve. "I won't quit this," you confirmed. You wouldn't let Light ruin this for you, but more than that, L wanted you here. And you wanted to be here with him.

"Good," he said while staring back at you. He leaned away from your body and brought his legs down to the floor like he was about to stand. "I don't have anything else to discuss with you. The files thing was just an excuse for Light. You're free to-"

And before you knew what you were really doing, you pushed yourself across the loveseat and crashed your lips against his. To your shock and relief, he didn't push you away. You heard a muffled noise burst out against your mouth, but then you felt him sink into it too. His hand cupped your cheek, and he reciprocated.

A breath you'd been holding since joining this case seeped from your lungs. His lips were so soft, his palm just as delicate. You scooted a little closer to him, feeling the rigidness of his side against your leg. You couldn't remember the last time Light had kissed you like this.

And as that thought crossed your mind, guilt washed over you in a tidal wave.

You pulled back, eyes heavy with the weight of your actions and lips parted so hot puffs of air could flow in and out.

"I'm sorry," you said immediately, "I shouldn't have done that."

He stared back at you, completely motionless for the moment. You started to get up, but he reached out and grabbed your forearm, stopping you.

"Don't be sorry," was all he said at first.

The both of you were trapped here together, locked in the haze of feelings and morals clashing. You wanted to go back in so badly. You wanted to taste him, to feel every detail of his mouth long enough to commit to memory. By the way he was keeping you here, it seemed that he too had some of the same desires.

"I'm sorry because it was unprofessional, not because I don't want to," you clarified softly.

"It was," he agreed, not unhanding you, "I know you're right. It's not a good idea. We should be focused on the case. I shouldn't have involved myself to this degree at all."

The words came out like they're meant to convince himself rather than you.

"Just tell me," he continued, "Did you mean it, or was it a mistake because you're upset?"

"It wasn't a mistake. I meant it. But I can't," you said. But fuck, you wanted to.

He looked so pretty sitting there. His shaggy black hair hung in his eyes which were just as wide and uncertain as yours.

You knew that even though Light could be a huge dick, this was wrong. This wasn't justified, and you should not continue. What you should've done was get up and walk out the door.

But something held you there across from L.

"I understand," he said simply. He wasn't going to force you to do anything. If you strayed from Light, that would be your decision.

'Get up. Get up. Get up,'  repeated in your head over and over. But you didn't follow your own mental advice.

"Did you want it? Or was it just the heat of the moment?" you asked softly.

You could see the indecision written all over his face. To make things more complicated with the truth or let them return to normal under the guise of a lie? The conversation lulled with the delay, but then his silken voice spoke the answer you'd been waiting for.

"I wanted it. I've been wanting it," he told you, "Everyday I see you, it gets harder to stand that I don't have you to myself."

And you knew you shouldn't, but now, you needed to. You pushed yourself forward and closed the gap. His thin arms encircled you to pull you toward him.

"Just this once, we can. Just for tonight, you can. Please," you whispered.

And who was he to deny you?

The problem with that night was that it hadn't turned out to be just once.

In the moment that you spoke those words, you meant them. You truly intended for it to be a one time thing. A small slice of pleasure you allowed yourself to indulge in. A secret that would weigh on your heart for the rest of your life. A brief lapse in judgment. A mistake.

But after the fact, what transpired between you and L felt like anything but.

One small kiss turned into several which whisked the two of you into a breathless makeout session on that loveseat. After a while, you'd crawled into his lap, and he'd slipped inside you. It was all a blur when you looked back on it now. A night of passion you'd never come close to experiencing before.

Quite honestly before that evening, you never imagined L to be capable of such romantic fervor. You imagined him as a much more distant lover. Similar to Light with the idea that his affection would be subtle. Different in that it wouldn't feel cold.

But for those hours, the word subtle hadn't crossed your mind once. Intense. Dedicated. All-consuming. Those seemed like more appropriate descriptors.

He'd been so good that you basically passed out next to him in the hotel bed afterwards. The two of you slept as if any of what had taken place was normal. Your limbs tangled with one another's while your dreams danced together overhead.

The next morning you came to slowly. You sat up and yawned, your hand lazily rubbing some of the sleep off your face. It took a few seconds of consciousness for panic to shoot through your body as you realized you needed to get up and go home.

Members of the task force would be there within the hour. You couldn't just be here before everyone else, wearing the same outfit as yesterday. It wouldn't take someone with Light's IQ to figure out what that meant.

You scrambled to put on your clothes and gather any belongings you'd need to make your re-arrival look fresh. L began to wake up from the sounds of your scuffling. He boosted himself up on the mattress and watched you for a moment. You'd never seen him so unfocused. It was beautiful in a way, his eyes lidded and tired, hazy with the remnants of a dream.

As quickly as you could without being rude, you explained what you were doing. To your pleasure, he didn't put up a fight. He helped you gather what you needed so you could go freshen up before coming back.

Before you left though, he brought you into a lingering kiss. He held your jaw tenderly and pulled away without any urgency, looking in your eyes while stroking your lip.

"I'll see you when you get back," he murmured.

And that was the beginning of many transgressions that shattered the illusion of 'just this once.'

You rushed home and hopped in the shower. The hot water washed away the rest of your drowsiness. The rising fog of steam enveloped you in warmth, bringing flashes of him back to your mind. How soft his dark locks had felt feathering against your neck. How tight his hands had gripped yours as he thrust into you. How sweet he'd sounded moaning in your ear.

Sighing, you leaned against the cool tile wall. You had to forget all that. It'd been nice, but it had to remain contained. Your work came first, and you would never hurt Light with the knowledge of any of that. It had happened and you didn't regret it. But it was over now.

At least that was what you told yourself.

On that day when you returned to the hotel in a new outfit, everything went as normal. There were no sly remarks from L. No tantalizing looks or teasing touches meant to operate under Light's nose. The both of you acted normal, went about your jobs and performed your duties as you're supposed to.

You weren't really sure what happened, but somewhere between then and now, your intentions to cut it off got muddled and faded away.

A few nights later, you had to stay late to review some aspects of the case with L. It started off professional but took no time to devolve. His fingers that had been so careful flipping through paperwork, eventually ended up beneath your skirt, toying with your clit as he had you continue to read off lines from the files before you.

After that, your entire relationship took on that tone. Your time together became filled with holding hands under the table, stolen kisses before others entered the room, and hushed moans as if one decibel too loud would result in you being found out.

But despite how good it all felt, you weren't heartless.

Every time you were alone with Light, the guilt crushed you. You began to act more like him, withdrawn and inattentive. If he noticed, he didn't complain, but that didn't alleviate your shame any.

You knew you had to end it with him. That was the only right way to go about this now.

And you planned to, you honestly did. You set a deadline in your head for when you would do it by. You stood in front of your mirror for nearly an hour, practicing what you were going to say. You imagined his reactions and tried to brace yourself in advance. 

Every last detail was penciled into place. You even told L about it beforehand. As if it were another task for your job, he offered support. His reaction and the way he went about giving you subtle comfort helped you feel like this was the right decision.

In a way, you still loved Light. You probably always would hold a sliver of affection for him. The forever fondness that comes with being your first love. But you were becoming increasingly certain that you loved L too.

The day you planned to cut Light loose, you woke up extra early. The lining of your stomach felt as though it was webbed with live wires. Anxiety coursed through you with every beat of your heart. You got ready for the day like you always did and then went about your routine as normal. You'd meet up with him at the hotel, and then you could do it afterwards when the two of you were alone.

But that day that you had so meticulously planned didn't end with the two of you in some secluded alcove in the lobby. You didn't get to explain anything. He didn't get to yell at you for betraying him or tell you to never speak to him again. None of that happened because instead, that day he came into the room, he didn't leave with you. He didn't go home afterwards.

He offered himself up for confinement. He ended the day in a cell before you ever got to tell him anything.

You sat near L with your head resting on your hands, glaring at the monitor with the image of Light on it. He was looking back at the camera. Even though there was no way for him to have known your plan, you felt like his coppery eyes gleamed with mockery.

L watched your expression, taking in your dire look. Only the two of you occupied the room right now. Everyone else had gone home for the night. He reached across the desk to take your hand. His thumb swiped over your knuckles tenderly.

You glanced at him in return. "Do you really think he could be Kira?" you asked weakly.

The answer you wanted wasn't so much to do with the exact question you asked. No matter how L explained it or whatever evidence he laid out, you could never bring yourself to fully commit to the idea that your boyfriend was this prolific serial killer. Instead, all you really needed in this moment was some reassurance that this stint in confinement wasn't for no reason.

He met your eyes, pausing before he spoke to consider his words.

"Yes. There's a chance he could be, one I'm partial to believe," he said, "But even if he isn't, that will show in time."

You nodded, pouting without realizing it and turning back to the screen. He was looking ahead now, not staring into your soul through the computer screen. You still felt stuck though.

You couldn't launch into a relationship with L now because Light was gone. The others were already pretty up in arms about Light and Mr. Yagami being held. It was doubtful that seeing you and L use the time as an opportunity for your own benefit would lessen those feelings any.

But on the other hand, you figured it would be cruel and unusual to dump Light through the speaker that blasted into his cell.

You sighed and shook your head, casting your vision over to the screen that featured Misa Amane. Your eyes briefly scanned her features. She was pretty; though, it was hard to tell with the large shield they had her face covered in.

"Do you think she's the second Kira?" you asked with disinterest.

He nodded, much more invested in the stakes of these two pieces of the puzzle than you were at the moment.

"Yes. It's just a matter of getting her to admit it," he said.

You nodded again, inclined to agree with him on that. You didn't know Misa all that well, having only crossed paths with her once or twice. From what you could tell, she had a huge crush on your boyfriend. He didn't seem to reciprocate it necessarily, but he did act strange on the few occasions she came up in conversation.

At certain points, you wondered if he was cheating on you with her, but you figured that was your mind projecting.

"We'll figure it out, darling," L said from beside you, drawing you back to reality with his soft tone, "We just have to be patient."

You turned your head to look at him. Some of the tension in your neck and back eased up as you gazed into his eyes. The sight of him sitting there, scrunched up like usual, softened your pessimistic outlook ever so slightly. He made you believe that you could endure all of this simply because he was worth it.

Leaning over the armrest of your office chair, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. The images of Light and Misa glowed behind your heads as he furthered it, rolling your seat in his direction.

L had been right about one thing. The past couple months required intense patience.

Light's confinement stretched longer than you would have imagined. You predicted a month at most, and even then, you believed that was kind of a stretch. It shouldn't take that long to determine if he was Kira.

But the one month marker passed and it seemed there was still no end in sight.

You and L continued your affair, still in secret. It was odd having to hide when the main person you were shielding from your feelings sat in a cell under your surveillance twenty four hours a day.

Seeing him like that got to you some days. When he started begging and pleading to be set free, it killed you inside. You could barely stand to look at L when it happened. It felt like you were watching the version of Light you'd fallen in love with come back only to be put in agony. Your chest would ache as you watched the video feed, your lip between your teeth and your eyes brimming with a sheen of salty tears.

L understood as best he could. He had known when this all started that things with you wouldn't be so cut and dry. It still gnawed at him a bit to see you torn up, but he gave you space when you needed it and held you when you didn't.

Just as you were beginning to lose hope that this would ever end, the day came that L informed you he would be releasing Light.

A strange mixture of relief and dread flooded your mind. You hadn't gone this long without speaking to Light since the two of you met back when you were both missing your front teeth and taking notes in crayon. You'd be happy to see him free of course, and it was one step closer to untangling yourself from this twisted web you'd created. But the other part of you filled with uneasiness stemming from your guilt. That combined with the expectation that he wouldn't care one way or the other about being reunited with you.

But when the two of you met again in the new hotel, your predictions couldn't have been more wrong.

You reluctantly glanced up at him when you heard him enter the room. But it was when your eyes met that something felt different. Your racing thoughts came screeching to a halt, a head on collision of guilt and nostalgia.

He strode across the room, lacking the normal weight he seemed to constantly carry on his shoulders these days. You rose to your feet on impulse. His arms reached out, and you felt them wrapping around your body. He pulled you to his chest, holding you there as his nose brushed the crown of your head. He said your name against your scalp with more softness than you'd heard from him in months.

You returned the embrace. Your hands splayed across his back, feeling the lean muscles beneath his shirt. Before you knew what was happening, your eyes felt misty.

"I missed you," you choked out as a whisper, "I've missed you so much."

You'd been missing him longer than fifty days. The version of Light in your arms was the one you loved since you were old enough to really understand the concept. This was the one you thought you'd lost forever because of this investigation.

"I missed you too," he said in return. Even his voice sounded like it used to. He didn't speak with inherent disdain for your very being. The words came out with a soft lilt meant for a lover.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't do more to help you," you whimpered. The apology was meant for more than the crime you confessed to.

"It's alright. There was nothing you could do," he said, his hand rubbing the expanse between your shoulder blades.

You ran your fingers up his neck and threaded them in his sandy locks. Pulling back a few inches, you kissed his cheek a couple times. You felt the skin flush red with embarrassment, which brought a smile to your lips. He didn't scowl or push you off. He got flustered.

"I missed you a lot. Don't leave me like that again," you whispered, pulling him back in for one more tight hug.

Your heart ached with the knowledge that you had planned to break up with him soon. You didn't think you could go through with it anymore. Not when he was himself again. Your Light.

The two of you pulled away from each other, and then your eyes landed on L sitting on the couch. Either he was much more understanding than you ever thought possible for a human being, or he had a phenomenal poker face. He looked completely unaffected, faring much better than you would be if the roles were reversed.

In contrast to his unbothered appearance, your stomach turned. You felt more guilt building in the pit of your belly, each brick being laid there reminding you of the fact that you were a horrible person. It was the only truth you would accept about this situation. You were a horrible person whose selfishness had created this mess. Truly, the solution you probably needed was swearing off men. You should devote yourself solely to finding Kira because you didn't deserve anyone. Certainly not the two people in this room with you.

The two of them began to speak, but you could barely hear the words coming out. Each of them sat on one end of the orangey, vintage couch while you took your seat in the chair on the opposite side of the pale rug beneath you. All your mind could focus on were the questions swirling within. How could you have done this? How could you have been so self-centered and stupid?

Neither of them deserved this. They didn't deserve to be caught in the carnage of your emotional state. You should've broken up with Light when you fell for L, plain and simple. That would have been the cleanest exit strategy possible here. Now there was no clean option left. Anything you did was going to leave animosity and tension in its wake.

You didn't zone back into the conversation until the words that had been popping out every so often started to piece together. The arrangement they were planning began becoming clear to you.

"You're going to handcuff yourselves together?" you asked with disbelief.

They both took a break from conversing with each other to look at you. L nodded while Light verbalized an explanation.

"If this gets us closer to catching Kira, it will be worth it."

"But come on, do you really think this is necessary? Wasn't almost two months in confinement enough to prove your innocence? All this will do is drive each of you crazy," you argued. The part you left unsaid was that it would drive you crazy as well.

"I believe it's necessary," L told you, "I also believe it will increase our efficiency."

He stared into your eyes, trying to convince you without words. If he was anyone else, you would believe this was intentional. A strike to get back at you for your loving reunion with Light. But you didn't think L would do that. He'd never taint the integrity of his case with personal feelings, and he'd never hurt you like that. He'd never hurt you like you hurt him.

Before you know it, a long, silver chain with two shiny cuffs attached had been pulled out. Each of your lovers got one locked around his wrist. You glanced between them, your eyes following the links that connected them.

You had a bad feeling this would require even more patience than the last couple months did.

Though it wasn't his intention, L couldn't help but feel that this handcuff idea had turned into a punishment for him. His consequence for sleeping with a girl in a relationship, and then continuing the affair and allowing himself to grow attached.

When he came up with the plan, he thought he could handle it. He had put up with watching you and Light together for months when he believed his feelings were unrequited. But now that he had his own taste of you, it felt nearly unbearable.

Living in the task force building with the two of you and watching you lavish all your affection on Light felt like torture. Every stroke of the other man's soft hair from your loving fingers felt like a blade slicing his skin. Each kiss to his pale temple was a bullet piercing his own flesh. Every time he had to hear you speak to Light in a sappy tone of voice or pay him a compliment, he'd rather rip his own ear drums out.

It was brutal. He didn't even get the reprieve of your nights alone together anymore. Your contact with him had been reduced to emotional looks, double-edged words, or soft touches on the rare occasions that Light fell asleep first.

Those nights were few and far in between. The last time it had happened had been weeks ago. All of three of you had been watching a movie, some horror flick none of you had seen. You sat on the couch together, like this was a hang out and not a date. On the right side, Light leaned back into the cushions. L took up the left side while you were in the middle between them.

Light had you tucked to his side as the movie played in front of you three. It was a possessive gesture and that was obvious to L. The movie wasn't scary and you weren't cold. The other man wanted his relationship with you on display. If L was going to sit in on your dates, at least he would know he was the third wheel.

He tried to act casual about it, tried keeping his eyes solely on the screen showing the carved up victims of the film's killer. But he couldn't stop himself from noticing how you played with Light's fingers. You shuffled them between your own, bending his digits and stroking the smooth skin. You fidgeted with them thoughtlessly like it was the most natural thing in the world. And he realized for both of you, it probably was. He'd never felt so out of place.

The urge to get away from it coursed through him with such intensity that he considered popping his thumb out of place just to slip out of the cuffs and get some space. The air in here felt suffocating, weighing down heavier on him every second. He ran his hand through his sleek hair. This night couldn't be over soon enough.

It was about two-thirds of the way through the movie that he felt your hand on his instead. You inched across the cushions and looped your fingers over his. He turned to look at you and saw Light's head slumped over onto your shoulder.

Unease swirled in your eyes. You seemed almost apologetic, and that was confirmed when you spoke, keeping your voice quiet enough not to wake your sleeping boyfriend.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

He blinked at you. "For what?"

A little sigh puffed from between your lips. "For this," you said, "I'm sorry for dragging you into this and stringing you along and not just breaking things off one way or the other."

"I was hardly unwilling," he responded. His hand flipped over and returned the hold you had on him.

His words made you smile a little, but sorrow still riddled your features. "You know what I mean. I just... I don't wanna make you feel like I'm leading you on. I don't regret being with you. I still care about you. A lot," you said. The L word stayed on the tip of your tongue. You were too mixed up to expel it.

He shook his head. "Don't apologize," he commanded gently, "If I expected something easy, I wouldn't have let this go as far as it did. I'm just as much to blame."

"But still," you replied, unconvinced, "I know I should just end things or leave you alone. It's just that he finally seems to like me again, and I don't know. It's hard to throw that away."

Sadness pervaded your words, and he hated it. It made sense. The tangled knots between the three of you didn't leave much room to feel happy.

"If Light is what you need right now, then that's ok. You don't need to feel an obligation to me-"

"I don't!" you interjected, almost forgetting to keep your volume down, "I don't. It's not like that. I love Light, but you're important to me too. I don't feel like I owe you anything. I feel attached to you because you're special. You mean so much to me. You're not like anyone I've ever known."

You were killing him, truly. He didn't want to let you go, but he figured giving you a way out would be easier. You just wouldn't take it. He didn't really know what to say. It wasn't like he could just join you and Light... the other man would never go for that.

"I love you too," he whispered, saying the words you wanted to without mincing them, "But feeling so torn isn't good for you. And it's not fair to Light."

Internally, your heart soared from the soft declaration. It would've been one of the most romantic moments of your life if it wasn't for the fact that you had made it so messy. But you had, so all you could do was nod because you knew he was right.

"Figure out what exactly you want, what will make you happy, and what will be best for you," he finished.

He then leaned in and gave you the smallest, softest kiss you'd ever received. Despite its fleeting nature, it struck you like a truck crashing into your body. It was the first time you'd kissed him in weeks, a reminder of how good he felt.

You stared into his eyes once the two of you had separated, running the tip of your tongue over your upper lip. Your heart fluttered in your chest for him. Your breaths came in and out with a little more effort.

Then, interrupting the exchange between you two, Light snuck his other arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his body like you were a beloved stuffed animal. The sudden reminder of his presence nearly caused you to jump out of your skin.

You ripped your eyes away from L and settled back in next to your boyfriend. Cuddling him closer, one of your hands ran through his hair and ensured he didn't wake himself up by moving.

And just like that the moment was over. Things went back to how they had been every other second the three of you spent in this arrangement. But L had gotten his fill and it was enough to keep him going for a while more.

Over the next couple days, he watched the two of you more closely. Part of him did it for selfish reasons. He wanted to find more time he could have you to himself. More moments he could steal from Light. But there was another part of him that was purely curious. It was the part of him always looking for a logical solution.

Through his observations, it became increasingly obvious to him that Light wasn't happy about this handcuffing arrangement in regards to his time with you either. He just seemed able to tolerate it much better than L could. Probably because he was the one with the official claim on you. He didn't have to hide his feelings.

Light could openly sit with his arm around your shoulders or your ass parked on his lap. He was the one that could stroke your head or kiss your cheek. He got to call you 'sweetheart' and be the recipient of your bright smiles.

At first he didn't take advantage of any of those things too often, but lately, the detective had noticed an uptick in all of those behaviors. The others had caught onto it too and found his rejuvenated affection for you slightly odd, but they chalked it up to almost two months apart. Two months without any form of physical contact would drive anyone to feel needy. And L agreed with that for the most part, though like with everything else, he had some theories of his own.

He also believed that Light's increase in attentiveness towards you stemmed from jealousy beginning to fester inside him. Maybe jealousy wasn't exactly the right word, but his actions toward you weren't purely romantic. They felt like warnings sometimes, reminders that you belonged to him.

He didn't think you had told your boyfriend about your affair. It was doubtful that he would've just let that slide and carried on with things as if they were totally fine. And he didn't think he was catching on either. As much as it pained him, you had been so inconspicuous. If he was anyone but himself, he didn't think he would paint you as attracted to anyone other than Light.

There was only one real instance he could identify that would qualify as Light catching scent of the truth.

The three of you had been working on the case in the evening, sitting side by side at the table in the main room of HQ. Your bodies lined up in their normal arrangement, Light on one side, you in the middle, and L on the other.

Over the crown of your boyfriend's brown hair, sat the band on a pair of headphones. The audio of last week's news coverage droned in his ears. Meanwhile you worked on taking notes on dates of killings and potential patterns and connections between them. L was scribbling some points down about names of victims.

It had been small, and he'd barely noticed it. But when his eyes drifted to the left side of his page, he caught a little marking on the right edge of yours.

A small pair of dots with a curved line beneath stared up at him. The little smiley face gave him the look you couldn't, spoke the words he didn't hear from you anymore.

He ended up drawing his own tiny ":)" on his paper. It rested right next to yours, only separated by the thin space between the two sheets.

It only took you a minute or so to notice. He acted like he was focused on his work, but he subtly watched in his peripheral for the smile that spread across your lips.

Continuing the game, you brought your pen back to the sight of your doodle and drew a little tongue sticking out of the mouth. He laughed under his breath. Thoughts of adding onto his filled his brain, but before he could, the third person in the room interjected.

"Are you guys passing notes now?" Light asked before nudging the headphones off one of his ears, both visibly and audibly unamused.

Your head whipped to face him. "Sorry. I just got a little distracted," you explained. You leaned in and placated him with a kiss to his cheek. Then your attention returned to the task in front of you.

L continued to watch as the interaction played out. Before he could refocus his own intentions, he caught Light giving him a look. It was only for a few seconds, but the suspicion shot across the back of your shoulders directly into L's skull.

But as far as he knew, that had been it. Neither of you had talked about it in front of him, so unless you discussed it while he slept, Light must have just let it go.

So the only other option left that could explain this shift in his level of affection was natural possessiveness. Whether he was conscious of it or not, Light had to share you with someone else 24/7 now. The two of you were never alone anymore. Even if L stayed quiet, forgetting his presence entirely was not an easy task with the way he stared. Private conversations and truly intimate moments were a thing of the past in your shared life. He supposed that would grate on anyone.

He still wasn't decided on that line of reasoning though, so he filed it away with the rest of the ways Light had changed during his confinement. He could figure out the source later. For now, he just needed to focus on you.

Quite honestly, he couldn't believe he had let any of this happen. He found himself wishing that he stopped on that first night. That part of his mind yearned for some way to go back in time and tell you the kiss was unprofessional and leave the tension to fizzle out. Everything would be so much easier in the universe where that actually happened.

But then again, in that universe, that version of himself would never get to experience you, and he didn't envy that in the slightest. Even with all the drama and secrets and heartache, he didn't regret you at all. It was the mess he hated, not the person at the center of it. No matter how hopeless things between the two of you seemed, he found himself unable to let go. You could trample his heart as much as you wanted and drag it through countless fields of broken glass, but at the end of the day, he'd still be there waiting for you to pick him from the carnage.

He knew it was pathetic. Childish even, believing in some sort of modern fairytale with you. But being aware of those things didn't curtail his feelings any.

If anything, it made them worse. Not having you to himself like he did for the time Light was gone created a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. Acidic resentment ready to spew at any moment toward the man toting you around as his possession.

The worst it felt was when you two did try to have a private moment while he slept.

Normally, you spent the nights in your own room in the task force building, but on occasion, you'd fall asleep before you could retire to your own space. In those cases, you'd sleep pressed to Light's side on one of the two beds in his and L's shared bedroom.

That night when the jealousy burned so hot inside him it felt like it would bubble over, it was because he woke up to the sound of the chain rustling. It dangled across the space between the two twin mattresses, the links clanking against each other and the floor. The sounds weren't erratic but just noisy enough to pull him from the comforts of unconsciousness.

His mind stayed hazy at first, ready to be lured back under. But then he heard a soft moan. Light's voice tenderly bursting into the otherwise quiet space. Then came you shushing him.

"I'm only gonna keep going if you stay quiet," you whispered.

That brought L to his senses a little more. He had been facing away from the two of you, so he couldn't see what was going on exactly. He blinked away his sleepiness and tried to focus on deducing that though. 

From there, he could hear the rhythmic strokes of your hand. The wet sound of you spitting onto your palm. Light's grunts as he presumably bit his lip and kept his face against your neck.

"You're so good at that," he choked out while gritting his teeth.

A quiet giggle trickled from your lips, and a part of L died inside. It felt kind of stupid. He knew you and Light were intimate. But knowing and bearing witness were two separate things.

"You still have to be quiet. If you wake him up, I'm never doing this for you again. If you get hard in the middle of the night, you'll have to rely on your own hand," you teased before connecting your lips with his.

L lied in bed as the rest of that played out. The delicate smooches and creaks of the bed. Light's strained whines and labored breaths.

Even after you'd finished him off and the two of you fell asleep again, he rested on the bed, moving as much as a stone. His eyes stared at the wall while his limbs felt like cement. Thoughts tangled up in his mind. The feelings of betrayal and envy and disgust and longing all muddled together.

Humiliating as it was, none of them killed his need for you. If you came to him tomorrow and informed him you and Light had split, he'd be as ready to embrace you as he was a few hours ago.

The desperate yearning for you was a disease, but as of now, it wasn't terminal. He could still function, could still even coexist with the subject of his hatred. That's what he was doing right now as the three of you played Mario Kart on the Wii hooked up to the tv in their shared room.

You and Light were curled up in the corner of the couch again while L sat a few feet away on the floor with his back against the structure. His shoulders tilted side to side as he maneuvered the controller in his hands.

Three of the small split screens showed your chosen characters weaving through Coconut Mall. You had a shitty race so far, lagging behind in fifth place. Light was up ahead in first with Toad while L trailed close behind in third as Dry Bones.

You already resigned to losing given that it was the third lap and you didn't have any good power ups. After winning the last cup, that was fine with you. One of them could have this one. 

The two men on either side of you didn't share your nonchalance. Both were dead silent, completely focused on the tv screen. They zipped their cars through the virtual parking lot, dodging the mini obstacles in the way. Glancing over at his corner of the screen, you could see Light basically had it in the bag. But then L jammed his thumb down on one of the wiimote buttons.

A blue shell flew out of the little skeleton turtle's hand and zipped up ahead to Toad. It slammed down with all the pettiness L felt inside, and Dry Bones passed by, smug with success.

"Damn!" Light huffed, dropping the controller in his lap.

He glared at the screen as you finished up the race. You came in fourth place rather than fifth. The feeling of slight achievement wasn't long lived though. You could tell out of the corner of your eye that your boyfriend had just barely resisted the urge to fling the plastic remote towards the wall.

L turned his head to look up at the both of you. His gossamer lashes kissed his cheeks as he blinked a few times. You looked at him awkwardly, hoping he could say something to cut through the tension.

"You know, Light. If you used the mushroom in your inventory, you could've avoided the blue shell. There's a trick you can do with the timing, but also, you would've been over the finish line if you sped up so it wouldn't have mattered if it hit you anyw-"

Light's head snapped in his direction, his stare even more agitated than before. Your eyes flitted between them like a scolded puppy even though you weren't on the receiving end of the icy look. If there was one thing about Light you knew, it was that he hated being shown up. And even more, he loathed being corrected afterwards.

"What happened to you pretending like you're not even here?" he said with a tight jaw, "This is supposed to be time for me and my girlfriend. And last I checked, that isn't you."

L shrugged in response, not reciprocating the annoyance. "It was your girlfriend who asked me to play. Maybe you should have checked with her about that," he said coolly.

You cringed a little, hearing the subtle assertion in his voice. He said your girlfriend, but you could sense the challenge. The unspoken dare to Light to make that more apparent so he could prove otherwise. You really really didn't want that to happen though, so you interrupt the exchange with forced laughter.

"Guys, chill out. It's just Mario Kart. No need to get all upset," you said.

L took your advice and turned his eyes back towards the television. Coconut Mall was only the second track in the cup after all. There were two more to go.

You looked up at Light who was relaxing now too and sinking back into the plush cushions of the couch. He still hadn't picked up the blue wiimote in his lap, and you weren't confident he was going to in the next few seconds.

As a preemptive strike, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. "You don't have to play anymore if you don't want to, baby," you murmured.

Baby.

The word stabbed at L. He peered back at your shared corner of the couch.

"Don't be a sore loser, Light. You know you don't have to be good at everything," he taunted.

In an instant, your boyfriend's face morphed into his previous harsh expression. You grabbed the controller from his lap, preventing him from lobbing it at L before the thought to do so could form in his mind.

"I actually have a lot of other games. We could all just play something else. There's Wii Sports, Just Dance. I even have this one where you're like a detective, so maybe you guys would like that..." you chattered.

"Can we just watch a movie instead? Something that involves less input from him," Light responded with a pointed gaze in L's direction.

"Sure!" you chirped, all too eager for another distraction.

You hopped up from the sofa, nearly tripping over the chain that connected their wrists. Your feet got their balance though and narrowly avoided an embarrassing fall. Once stable, you headed over to the little binder of disks you'd brought to HQ when you all moved in here and rifled through it to find something that could please both men.

L chewed the inside of his cheek. He had nothing to really be irritated about in this moment, but this whole situation wore on him. As a result, he felt like being a little pushy.

"Your girlfriend was excited to play that game, wasn't she?" L asked, still keeping the facade of casualness, "We really have to stop because you're not winning?"

The way Light gritted his teeth was nearly audible. "She's the one who suggested we do something else," he defended, "If she still wanted to play, she would tell me. She doesn't need you speaking on her behalf."

"Yeah, really. It's no big deal. I can play later," you said, trying your best to smooth things out.

L's pupils lingered on you, assessing and judging. He knew you were trying to defuse the situation above all else. He understood the motivation, but that didn't mean he liked it. Why couldn't you let the fuse burn down to the blow up? The explosion that could set everything straight. Let it clear this mess and leave nothing but rubble that the two of you could rise from to be together.

As of now though, that was nothing more than a wild pipe dream. He let go of it. It was probably best for the case anyway.

You popped a DVD into the player before standing and prancing back to the sofa. Taking your seat, you slotted yourself right under Light's arm, pressed against his side. L scooted up onto the couch too but maintained the distance of a single cushion. It was weird sharing the space with the two of you, yet he figured it was better than staying on the floor and feeling like a kid being babysat by a negligent couple.

Only a few moments passed before the menu screen appeared. The cheesy looped music sounded for a couple seconds before you tapped the button to play your selection. It was some 90s movie. One that despite its star-studded cast, was still filled to the brim with atrocious acting.

All three of you were silent through the beginning even though none of you held much interest in the film. The plot panned out predictably; the characters fighting over petty qualms and falling in love at the drop of the hat while the end of the world decorated the background of their lives.

L let out a quiet sigh, a section of his dark tresses swaying with the force of his breath. The heel of his palm squished against his cheek while boredom swirled in his eyes and spread across his other features.

Meanwhile on your side of the couch, you remained relieved you'd avoided imminent catastrophe. Your head leaned against Light's shoulder while his fingers twirled absent-mindedly on your bicep. About forty-five minutes into the film, he turned and kissed your forehead.

You peeked up at him. The act would've been unusual for the Light you'd become accustomed to months ago, but for this updated version, it was fairly in line. You gave him a tiny smile and snuggled further into his side. Relaxation permeated the both of you as you sat there and watched the stupid movie in front of you. To you, it was the end of conflict. This acted as a time killer to fill the rest of the night before you could go to sleep.

But your boyfriend seemed to view the situation through a different lens.

His fingers continued to massage your upper arm in light ministrations. They were barely noticeable. So casual they almost felt inherent.

But that was only until they dragged upward to your neck and collar. The smooth pads of his fingertips trailed over the little bump of your clavicle. They dusted over you with the most gentle care you'd ever seen from the man holding you close. His digits traced with intention, with subtle desire. They delved downward and teased the top of your breasts, bringing heat creeping up from the pit of your belly into your cheeks.

Carefully, you readjusted your position, brushing him off in the most inadvertent way possible. In contrast to the way he pulled away from your hand all those months ago, this could truly appear to be accidental. It didn't matter though because it didn't deter him any.

His head ducked in, and he kissed the skin beneath your earlobe. He pulled you a little closer to his body, allowing you to feel the definition of his form. An involuntary shudder swept over you. You tried to fight it, but the provocative touches had an effect whether you wanted them to or not.

He moved his lips down, licking and nipping from your earlobe onto your throat. That was when you almost lost it, nearly letting a moan escape you. It would have been soft and quiet, but at any volume, it wasn't a sound you wanted getting out right now.

Your eyes fluttered. All his touches felt so good. Light knew your body. Even though he was a dick for most of the beginning of your relationship, he was still observant. He knew all the spots that made you melt. He knew the area below your pulse point caused you to squirm and whimper while grazing the divot in your hips made them buck as a chill overtook you.

He kept his kisses quiet. Not quiet enough for someone attempting to hide them, but to the point that he wasn't slobbering all over your neck.

Either way, L noticed what the two of you were up to. He felt jealousy taking root inside of him. Ugly, brutal, all-consuming envy. He hated it, didn't want it at all, but it still made itself known.

He kept his eyes locked on the screen. He could feel you two shifting around in your corner. He could hear your breath hitch like it did for him. He could see in his peripheral how Light held you, in the way he wished he could.

"Light, quit it," you whispered.

You really tried to keep this between you and him, but he kept going. One set of his fingers swept down over your curves and gripped the dip in your waist. They squeezed the soft flesh, keeping you close.

"Shhh," he hushed you before nipping at the sensitive skin of your throat, "Relax, baby. This is supposed to be a date, yeah?"

Suppressing a whimper in your throat, you nodded weakly. You decide to just let him mess around a little more. Maybe he could work out his frustration and then mellow out.

At first, you thought that worked. He eased his efforts, laying some tender pecks on your neck. His kisses hit your skin with alluring care. You felt lulled into a sense of security. Your body calmed itself and cooled the fires of arousal beginning to burn. But then his lips parted and his tongue snuck out, licking a stripe up your neck before his mouth engulfed the wet area.

Simultaneously, his hand coasted back up and landed on your breast. This time the touch wasn't teasing. He grabbed the mound of flesh with intention. He kneaded it with unmistakable desire. Heat blossomed between your legs like it would when the two of you were alone. But instead of sinking into that feeling and spreading your thighs for him, you squeaked and tried to sit up.

"Stop," you whined. You were still trying to keep quiet, but you had to raise your volume somewhat to be forceful.

You grabbed his hand on your chest and pushed it back down onto your stomach. Though all that did was give him the leverage to pull you onto his lap entirely. The chain connecting him to L rattled as your body scraped across it.

Finally, L turned his head and looked at the two of you straight on. He observed the way Light held you to his chest and continued ravishing your throat. His eyes scanned over the way you squirmed and tried shutting him down without making a scene. The thing that stood out the most though was Light's eyes staring back at him. They gleamed with self-satisfaction, smugness to a level that dared L to try something. The glow of the tv hit his copper irises in a way that made them look closer to a deep shade of red.

L swallowed hard, taking a few more moments to watch. He could see from your expression you were embarrassed but not entirely displeased with the affection. It felt like a swarm of insects tearing him apart from the inside, the knowledge you could still enjoy touches that came from someone else. He didn't think he had that ability anymore.

"She told you to stop," he cut in, bitterness dripping from each word.

Pulling his mouth away from your neck for a few moments, your boyfriend's attention zeroed in entirely on the other man in the room.

"And was she talking to you when she said it?" he asked pointedly.

A pause filled the gap in conversation after those words. Both men stared one another down, contemplating the next move in the verbal chess match. Light's arms remained firm around you. He didn't let you scoot back to the neutral position between the both of them.

"I thought you said we could do whatever we wanted in front of you. That we shouldn't pay you any mind. Act 'like you're not even here,'" Light continued.

"Maybe it's better that I am here if you don't know what the word 'stop' means," he fired back.

You finally found the courage to cut in after watching the two of them go back and forth.

"It's fine, Ryuzaki. We were just messing around. I'm sorry if we made you uncomfortable," you said, diplomatic as ever.

"It's not fine," he challenged you. For the first time ever, you saw L lose his cool. His eyes blazed with ire for both you and Light. He stood from the couch, maintaining his glare. "You never stand up to him and then wonder why he never changes!"

Your eyes widened at the outburst, but your expression quickly melted into that of an ashamed child. On the other hand, your boyfriend lost his sense of superiority and now just looked confused.

"What is he talking about?" he asked.

"I- It's not-" you started to stammer, but you're unsure of who to even address, let alone what to say.

L could see you were struggling. A small part of him felt some guilt for lashing out, but the whole of him knew he needed to. This game between the three of you had grown tiresome. All he did to help was stay quiet and give you the room to collect your thoughts.

Light didn't offer that courtesy though and spoke again. "What is he talking about? You wonder why I never change?" he echoed.

"It's not like that," you defended with urgency, "I don't wish you would change."

Disgust crept into L's eyes. Before, he'd always found your timidity endearing. It was like an extension of your intelligence. Modesty that you projected because you wrongfully believed you didn't fit in with everyone else.

Though this exposed the truth of that characteristic. It wasn't inherently precious or just some part of you that came from the desire not to hurt others.

Right now, it was cowardice.

"Maybe not anymore. His confinement must have changed you too," L said.

His words hollowed out your insides, leaving the cavern of your chest bare, spare the remaining shards of your heart. The room around you felt like a sinking ship. Everything you knew would soon be lost underwater.

"I haven't changed," you said, your initial defensiveness fizzling out, "You don't understand."

"My confinement?" Light repeated, ignoring your words to the other man, "Did something happen between you two while I was locked up?"

It was hard to keep up when accusations were flying at you from both sides.

"No! Just let me explain," you denied, "When you were gone, me and Ryuzaki got kind of close because there's no one else around here to really talk to, you know?"

"Talk," L choked out, "That's all we did, huh? Talk?"

"I didn't mean- I just... It's not-" you tried to continue. You could feel your throat closing up as your eyes began stinging with tears.

There was no way you were going to let yourself cry. Not when you knew you were so undisputedly in the wrong. It would probably just make this situation worse. The pain you caused wasn't hypothetical anymore, but there were still salvageable pieces of the shattered whole.

You took a deep breath before scooting off of Light's lap. His arms had long gone limp around your waist. Sitting between them on the sofa, you stared down at your thighs for a few moments. When you finally felt some semblance of courage, you brought your head back up.

Both of them were watching you in anticipation. L still had broken hearts gleaming in his eyes while angry confusion dominated Light's features.

"While you were in confinement, Ryuzaki and I..." you started softly. Even though trailing off left your crimes unspoken, you knew the implication was obvious to Light. You forced yourself to continue anyways, needing to take responsibility. "It started a little before that actually. We got close. And we did a lot more than talk."

You sucked in a shaky breath, conjuring the will to expel the next set of words.

"I was unfaithful. And I'm so sorry."

Your head hung in shame. The room fell silent, spare for the quiet dialogue coming from the characters on the television.

"You... you cheated?" Light finally sputtered, "You cheated on me?"

Turning your head, you looked at him before nodding. "I'm so sorry, Light. I know it sounds like a cliche, but I never meant to hurt either of you."

The words came out like a broken record as your eyes watered to the point of overflow. With stiff fingers, you brushed away the stray tear.

"Why?" he asked, his tone settling into anger.

"I felt alone. And you were so distant. And I didn't know how to talk to you. But I didn't even try," you explained. It felt cheap to try and provide an excuse.

"How the hell am I distant? We're with each other every single day!" he snapped.

"Yeah, but before... you were different before. You were so mean all the time!" you responded.

He didn't have anything to say back to that because part of him knew it was true. And as shitty as it felt trying to justify yourself, he still had never offered up a reason as to why that was. He left you to wonder what you had done even now that he acted like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you.

"It just started as advice. That was it, I swear. He just offered to help me because he saw how I was feeling. Then it became something more, and I was wrong for letting it while we were still together. But then you went away and I couldn't do anything about it and we just got even closer. And I'm just so sorry," you whispered, "I don't expect you to forgive me."

L shifted back and forth on his feet before lowering himself onto the sofa again. He still said nothing. He just observed, waiting to see what Light would say next.

"Do you still... have feelings for him?" he asked, "Do you still love me?"

"Yeah, I still love you," you said and looked back up at him, "I know I did a shitty job of showing it, but I never wanted to lose you. I... I couldn't just let you go. We've always been each other's."

He diverted his focus when you whispered out your words of endearment for him. "You didn't answer both questions," he muttered.

Sighing, you paused. You mentally tried to decide how to answer. Speaking as if only you and Light were in the room would hurt L, but addressing him rather than your boyfriend probably wouldn't bode well for you either.

"What do you guys want me to say?" you whispered.

"Tell the truth. Be honest. Say what it is you want," L finally joined in.

"Say it instead of just taking it," Light added.

Even though their directions were clear, it still took a few moments to find the words you wanted to use.

"I want both of you," you answered, "I don't want to pick. I don't want to hurt either of you any more than I already have."

The room stayed quiet after your declaration. You could feel the weight of Light's stare, but L simply seemed resigned. Reaching out on both sides of yourself, you took their hands.

You wrapped your fingers around their palms. Your digits could feel the subtle differences in each appendage. Both were smooth and slender, though L's knuckles protruded more than Light's. Luckily, neither one of them made the move to pull away.

"I know it's stupid and childish and selfish, and you can call me all that stuff. Just please don't leave," you begged softly.

The lone tear from before was no longer a stray. More followed its path and trailed down the smooth curves of your cheeks.

After a few moments, you felt L's thumb begin to swipe back and forth over your knuckles. Always the more lenient of the two, he was already caving a little bit to the sight of you weeping.

"I can't leave," Light grumbled and raised his hand, reminding you of the binds that kept him here. 

He wasn't as swayed by your display of emotion. His jaw remained clenched with his eyes set in a harsh glare. You could hear the process of his thoughts piecing together in his head, you just couldn't decipher what exactly they were.

"So what?" he said when he finally spoke again, "I'm not good enough for you anymore. I have to share you with him?"

"No. You are good enough for me. That's not why," you reassured. Squeezing his hand, you continued, "You don't have to share. If you want to dump me, I would understand. I just... I can't just pretend me and Ryuzaki never happened."

Blinking at you, he took in each word and let it float through his mind. He mostly understood your point despite the murderous anger flowing through him in that moment. And on top of that, the small piece of him that knew the smart thing would be to break up with you was dominated by the larger part of his psyche that refused to let L win.

If he broke up with you, there was no doubt in his mind that L would accept you with ease. Why should he get to have that? Why should Light be the one who ended up alone in this situation? You were his first, and you still wanted him. You'd strayed for a moment, but your heart still belonged to him. He was sure that in time he could erase any remnants of your infidelity. He just had to be patient.

"What does Ryuzaki think?" he asked before looking at the other man, "He's been so quiet. Does he think we should have you choose? Does he want you all to himself?"

L returned his stare past you. "I said what I think. I want her to have what she wants," he replied.

"Don't give me that," Light sneered, "This isn't a case. There's nothing you have to put together before coming up with a conclusion. Do you still want her? Do you still want her even if she can't make up her mind and thinks she deserves you and me?"

You cringed at the wording of his questions but decided not to interject. Instead, you waited for L's response.

"Yes. I still want her. Even under those circumstances," he admitted.

The revelation made Light both smug and bitter. Knowing someone else coveted what was his felt good, but realizing that same person had some success obtaining it ate away at him. He wouldn't make that apparent though.

"I just think it would be easier if we worked on solving the case first," you added, "If I pick one way or the other, someone will end up hurt and that would only cut into our chances of catching Kira."

"So what do you suggest we do instead then?" Light asked, "Do we all pretend like everything is normal? That neither of us feel anything for you, and you don't feel for us?"

"No, Light-" you tried to defend, but he kept going.

"Or is it that you really want us to share? You wanna sleep between us at night? Want us both to tell you how proud we are when you do something good? Want both of our attention focused on you?" he mocked.

"No, I just think we should talk about it," you offered. You felt your cheeks starting to burn.

"Talk about what? What plan did you have in mind?" he carried on, grabbing your jaw and making you look into his eyes.

"I don't know..." you acquiesced.

From your other side, L hardened his gaze a bit. "She already apologized and offered to come up with a solution, Light. Don't just try making her feel worse," he warned.

"I'm not. I'm just trying to get some clarity on the situation," he said, "I just want to know what she means."

You didn't have an answer for him because in all honesty, you didn't really know what you meant. This wasn't a daydream. It wasn't realistic to expect both men to just magically forgive your betrayals. This wasn't a fantasy world in which their love for you would overpower all other negatives. But you didn't want to contend with a reality that wasn't that way, so you remained silent.

That didn't deter Light from coming after you some more though.

"Just say what you were thinking," he encouraged, "Is it that you want both of us to call you baby and pretty girl and all those other sweet names I know you like? Or maybe it's less innocent. Do you have a thing for two guys at once that you never told me about?"

The warmth of embarrassment flooded your face in full force. You could barely think with the hot air swirling around inside your skull.

"No, Light-" you asserted. But again, he keeps going.

"No? Maybe you like being watched then? I know you love almost being caught. But do you want someone actually watching you?" he taunted.

"Light, this isn't doing anything to-" L tried to intervene on your behalf. But your boyfriend didn't want to hear it.

"Do you wanna show Ryuzaki how you like to be touched? Or is it that you wanna show me what I'm missing out on now?" he asked.

"That's not why!" you said and yanked your hand away.

He laughed in response. He had no problem continuing to stare you down either.

"Maybe not entirely, but I know you. I know there's a small part of you that gets off on being caught." he accused.

And that was true. Having known you for so long, he knew what revved your engine. You'd told him all your dirty little secrets and darkest desires. Now that he was openly using them against you, you weren't sure how to refute him.

"Yeah, but this is more..." you said.

"I know it is, but you don't want it to be more right now, do you? That was your point. That we should save deeper discussion until after the case."

You nodded, hoping he would maybe ease up now.

But his grin only grew more severe. He mimicked your nod.

"Alright. I think I could come around to accept that idea," he told you, "I just need some more convincing. Maybe you and Ryuzaki could persuade me."

You eyed him nervously, wondering what exactly it was he planned on as methods of temptation. Turning your head, you found that L was just as lost as you.

"How?" you asked.

"Show me. Show me what I missed out on when I was off proving my innocence. Show me what you can't just throw away. Show me what was worth risking everything for," he commanded.

Your lips parted as the thunder of your heart pounding boomed through your ears. His request was pretty obvious, but you just couldn't believe it. It didn't sound like anything Light would have ever asked for. But then again, he probably would have marked cheating down as something you'd never do.

You moved your eyes to L in an attempt to gauge his reaction. He seemed just as stunned and uncertain as you though.

"C'mon. Don't act all shy now. I doubt you two had any problems when you were doing it behind my back," Light said.

"Light," you pleaded, your lip jutting out a bit.

"What?" he asked, colder than before.

"Are you sure you want us to... do that?" you checked.

"You're only going to hurt yourself more," L added.

"I don't need you speaking on my wellbeing," he said to the other man before redirecting to you, "I'm sure. I want to see what I'll be getting out of sharing you. So go ahead. I'm sure you've been missing him since I came back."

A pit formed in your stomach. Your vision shifted from one guy to the other. It was true that you'd missed L a lot as of late, but this was not how you'd envisioned your reunion at all. You didn't want to lose either of them though, and if this is how you went about that, then so be it.

"You want me to..."

"Kiss him," he directed.

A spasm overtook your heart, but you suppressed it with a deep breath. You then turned to L. He was right there, seemingly waiting for you to take that step. With one last look at Light, you refocused completely on him.

You scooted a little closer to his side of the couch and started to lean in.

"Are you sure?" he murmured before your arrival.

You only nodded in response before pressing your lips to his.

Your eyes fluttered shut and then so did his. You melted into the exchange with no real issue. You hadn't really kissed L in what felt like forever. Even under the awkward circumstances, you wouldn't let a chance to have him like this slip through your fingers.

He cupped one of your cheeks with his hand, the other slid around your waist. His lips moved in tandem with yours. In no time, your mouths found a perfect rhythm to share. He guided you into his lap now, situating you between his thighs.

Your quiet moan spilled into the air. You ran your hands up his chest, fingers caressing his lean figure through his clothing. His hand on your back squeezed your flesh and pulled you closer.

"She has a spot on her back that makes her go crazy," Light offered from the sidelines.

"I know," L said back before locking you into another kiss.

You glanced over at Light with shyness clouding your eyes. He had leaned back into the corner of the couch and openly watched you make out with L. His legs were spread while his arms draped over the backing and arm rest.

Butterflies erupted in a constant stream in your belly. Being observed by one while being kissed by the other felt like nothing you'd ever experienced before.

If L minded as much as you, he didn't show it. He kept himself focused entirely on kissing you. His tongue traced the seam of your lips before sliding into your mouth and dancing with your own. The hand that had been massaging your back moved to grope your hips.

You whimpered for him before leaning into his body more. He took your eagerness for him in stride and cradled you in the perfect position to make out.

For a while, it felt just like before. Like it was just you and him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders and reciprocated his movements like it was the most natural thing in the world.

After a while of kissing, his right set of fingers trailed down your body. They delved beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, finding their place between your thighs. Over your panties, they stroked your cunt. The sudden burst of stimulation made you gasp against his lips.

With another little whine, you parted your legs a few inches for him. His digits took advantage and worked with more skill to stroke your clit and tease your slit.

"Is this how it started?" Light asked, reminding you of his presence again.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from L and turned to look at him. With droopy eyes and puffy lips, you tried to register the question.

"Kinda," you mumbled.

Even though you were talking, L didn't stop petting your pussy. He only seemed more dedicated to the task. He hooked his chin over your shoulder and laid some kisses along your jawline.

More little noises of pleasure seeped out of you, but Light continued with his questions.

"Kind of? Did you just kiss the first time? Or did you let him touch you like this too? Maybe even more?" Light mocked.

"I didn't-" you started to defend, but L nipped at your throat, making you stutter. You whined before continuing, "It was just different."

"I'm sure," Light mocked.

You wanted to argue more, but L tugged the damp cloth of your underwear aside and slotted his fingers against your folds. He swirled them around your little bundle of nerves as his mouth worked on your neck. You arched your back, pressing your ass against his thigh.

"No more lying," he whispered near your ear, "Be honest about how good I make you feel."

Your eyes fluttered at the command while his fingertips continued toying with the most sensitive part of you. They rubbed a little more before sliding down and dipping into your entrance.

"It feels so good," you whimpered, sinking further into his embrace.

"That's right," he purred.

His fingers worked into your dripping hole with ease. He pumped two in and out, stroking your inner walls as they scissored inside you.

From the other end of the sofa, Light watched the outline of L's hand move beneath your pants. He studied the way your head fell back and how your shoulders relaxed. It was like being able to watch your shared intimate moments from another perspective. Anger and betrayal still brewed inside him, but they were becoming less volatile with every little squeak you made.

"I missed feeling this perfect pussy. So soft and wet for me," L whispered. He nosed at your neck for a moment before licking up to your earlobe.

You shuddered in response. "I missed you more," you breathed.

Your hips bucked against his wrist when his fingers curled within and brushed up against a sweet spot. You mewled without any regard for volume. The sensations he brought you were your only concern.

Light bit the inside of his bottom lip. His breathing became a little heavier. He had never been with anyone but you. And you'd never been with anyone but him until L. Seeing someone else explore you like this made him feel something he couldn't articulate.

While watching, he imagined a few months ago when your relationship wasn't in the best place. He envisioned the days his words left you with tears in your eyes and a broken heart thumping between your ribs. Those were the days that brought you to L. He tried picturing it now, you after work, finding comfort in the other man. Finding refuge from the one who was supposed to love you more than anyone in this world.

But Light did love you. Even after all of this, he was sure of it. And more than that, he still believed he was the best person for you. He'd known you forever after all. Longer than anyone else in his life or yours besides parents. When he looked at you these days, sometimes he still saw the girl who used to write her initials on the tips of his sneakers during recess. You'd get the same look in your eyes working on the case now that you used to get filling out study guides in school. When you laughed, it rang out the same, and when you cried, your lip quivered like it did the time you skinned your knee on the way to his house. 

He couldn't forget any of that even if this did hurt him worse than anything else he'd ever felt before, and he wouldn't let this thing with L take you away from him. He'd just have to hold out until you all caught Kira, and the two of you could move on.

The only thing he felt a little alarmed by right now was that holding out didn't seem like such a chore any more. Despite his pain, he couldn't deny the way his cock was filling out in his pants as he watched you get felt up and pleasured by someone else.

"My turn," he mumbled as he forced himself to return to his senses, "I want a turn with her before we share."

You blinked yourself back to reality as you felt his voice wedging between you and L. The man who'd been kneading your breasts while fingering you reluctantly pulled his digits out of your cunt and then removed his hand from your sweatpants. He gave you a few more gentle pecks to your throat before giving you a nudge back to your boyfriend.

Crawling towards Light, you didn't make it all the way there before his arms came out and dragged you close. His lips crashed against yours in an instant. Your noses bumped and his hands squeezed you tight. Despite the haste of it all, you had no problem matching his movements. You knew Light's body as well as you knew your own.

Your hand slid up into his hair, giving it a soft tug in the way you knew he liked. He moaned against your lips and kissed harder. Everything he was doing felt familiar, just at an increased volume.

"You're still mine," he whispered against your lips before making out with you in full again. He didn't give you a chance to respond before his mouth was back on yours.

You whined into the kisses, sinking into the cushions below you as he laid you out across them. His lips worked down over your neck in a similar pattern to L. He worked on marking the side of your throat the other man hadn't touched while his hands roamed your torso.

Squirming a little beneath him, your head tilted back against the couch, and you found yourself looking up at L. When your eyes met, his hand came out and stroked your cheek. He swiped his thumb back and forth over the curve of it.

"Can't have you forgetting about me," Light muttered between pecks to your neck.

"I didn't," you breathed. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tightened them.

He hummed in acknowledgement before rolling his hips against you, allowing you to feel his bulge grind between your thighs.

"Since you want us both, I'm gonna let you have us both," he whispered.

You turned your head and kissed along his cheek and temple. It didn't feel right saying 'thank you' to something like that, so you could only hope your touches would fill their place.

"Go sit in his lap. With your back against his chest," he commanded.

He then pulled off of you and allowed you to get up. Slowly, you rose off of your back and scooted in L's direction. He was ready to take you into his arms again. He positioned himself against the armrest of the couch and sat you on his lap like Light wanted. You could feel his stiff length poking against your ass as you did.

Once you were in place, Light leaned forward again and hooked his index fingers over the waistband of your pants. He pulled them down with your panties, leaving you exposed on top of L.

"Spread your legs, baby. I wanna see if you're ready," he said softly.

You obeyed and opened your thighs for him. L's hands dipped in and stroked the smooth skin on your inner legs, causing your cheeks to fill with heat again. Even though both men had seen you naked and felt every part of your body before, both of them doing it together was different.

Light's eyes trailed down your figure before landing on your center. They stared at the wetness gathered there, trying to judge if you could take them.

"Who knew you were so greedy? Almost soaked through your panties at the thought of two cocks at the same time," he mocked.

"At the same time?" you repeated. You knew you asked to be shared, but you didn't think he'd take it so literally.

"Mhm. You want us both, don't you? How else did you think this would work?" he smirked.

"I don't know. I thought you guys would like take turns or be on different sides or something..." you explained.

"No. If you want both, you're gonna really take both," he responded.

Shaking his head, he stood up and pulled his shirt off. L did the same behind you, letting it fall to the flood next to the couch. From there, Light unbuttoned his pants and let them crumple to the floor. He didn't show any awkwardness about revealing his body in front of another guy.

"Do you want your shirt off?" L asked, kissing the space behind your ear.

You nodded, and the both of you peeled it off your upper body before discarding it with his.

Light palmed himself over his boxers before sliding those down as well and letting his dick spring free. He gave his shaft a few lazy strokes while gazing at you. Below your body, L worked on pushing his jeans off and freeing himself from the confines of his pants.

"Think I'll let Ryuzaki have you first, and then I'll slide in too. I wanna see if you take him like you take me," he said.

L's dark eyes stared up at the other man. He didn't want to take orders from him, but then again, he couldn't really complain about the sentiment.

"Are you good with that?" Light asked, cocking his head while looking down at the man behind you.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he responded.

His arm wrapped around your waist, reaching down between your legs to rub at your clit a few more times.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" he murmured to you in a much softer tone.

With nervous eyes, you nodded. You pressed your lips to his for a few more soft kisses. While you were occupied, he took the chance to adjust his position and line himself up between your legs. You felt the swollen head brush your entrance. The tip slid up through your folds, feeling your wetness before dragging back down.

Your heart pounded in your chest. This was really going to happen.

And then it did. He boosted his hips the slightest bit and popped it in. You whined as your walls fluttered, embracing his familiar length with ease.

He grunted and pushed forward. Slowly, his shaft entered you, sliding forward until he bottomed out. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder where you could nuzzle into his neck. His hands swept up over your curves and kneaded your malleable flesh.

Light watched from the same position, stroking himself as he watched someone else have you in a way he thought would forever only be for him.

"Does that feel good?" he breathed, "Does he know how to do it right? Just how you like it?"

A soft whimper puffed from your lips before you gave him a shy nod. L did know all the things you liked by now. He knew the perfect angle to rock his hips at and what speed you preferred. He knew how to make your mind melt out your ears by suckling on your pulse point. He knew all the dirty things to whisper in your ear that made you tighten up on him like a vise.

Light continued to observe. His eyes scanned over how L's hips began pumping into you. How his hands cradled your legs behind the knees. He listened for every wet squelch his cock brought out of you. Every hitched breath and whiny crack in your voice.

His length throbbed at the sight. It was the most fucked-up, perverse sense of pleasure he'd ever felt. It made him sick with lust. His hands trembled with the urge to reach out and interrupt, but he made himself wait.

He let L have a little more time with you. The other man sighed, nestling his face in the crook of your neck as he enjoyed the hot, tight euphoria wrapped around his cock.

Your eyes had fluttered shut after a few good nudges to your sweet spot. You lay against his chest, held up by his arms, totally pliable. Though even in your hazy state, you could feel Light's eyes bearing down on you, examining your every move.

But despite feeling his presence, it still sent a shockwave through you when he brushed the tip of his cock against your clit.

Your back arched off of the man beneath you as a sharp whine burst from your mouth. Smearing his sticky precum over your pulsing bud, he dragged the flushed end of his length back and forth. He moved at a slower pace than L. His movements only intended to tease you, not cause any true pleasure.

"L-Light," you moaned. You squirmed your hips, trying to entice him into giving you more.

His lips curled into a small smirk. "Hold still, babe," he chided, "I know patience isn't your strong suit, but you can wait a little more."

Whining again, you gyrated your hips a few more times. L groaned at the added stimulation; the motions worked your walls around him just right. He rutted up into you with more force, which only drew more noises from you.

Light took a deep breath, working himself up. He reached forward and grabbed your calves with precise fingers. His touch was gentle but calculated like it always was. Even in what was supposed to be the heat of passion, he made sure things played out according to his plans.

One of his hands dropped to guide his cock down to your entrance. A quiet moan escaped him as L's shaft brushed his sensitive ridge. He shuddered, but he didn't back away. He pushed with more intention and watched as you started to split open around him too.

A gasp tore through you. Your pussy burned as it struggled to take both of them. You writhed desperately, trying to find a position of reprieve. L came to a stop inside you and adjusted to hold onto your hips to keep you in place.

"Shhh, you're doing so good," he cooed while his digits rubbed small circles into your skin, "You can take it."

Light's jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. His breaths became more labored as he worked himself in all the way. It was so fucking tight. The feeling of L's dick pressed up against his own was also something he'd never felt before, but something he found himself really really liking.

"You wanted us to share," he grunted, "This is how it feels."

After a few moments, you started to settle again. Four sets of fingers coasted across your body, leaving little chills in their wake. The stretch between your thighs still stung, but pleasure began overriding it as L started moving again.

He thrust a few times, letting you get used to the sensation again. Then Light worked his hips back and forth. Your toes curled, and your breaths puffed out with broken whines in between.

Both of them found a rhythm that worked in tandem with the other. Grunts, groans, and sighs echoed all around you. Every inch of your body was in contact with one of them. Your head spun from the total overstimulation along with the ecstasy burning in the pit of your belly.

"Fuck... so much... feels like so much..." you babbled.

"Yeah? A little whore like you was made for it though," Light mocked.

Your eyes rolled back and you gushed around him. The words shot through with flaring sparks of bliss. In the past, Light could get a little bold with you sometimes, but never like that. He could see the effect his tone had on you, but he didn't make any move to lessen it. He only fucked into you harder.

"You're so pretty," L added from behind your ear, "You're being such a good girl for us."

With Light now holding your legs, he moved his hands to toy with your breasts again. He pinches and tweaks your nipples, getting you to recreate those cute little squirms from before.

"So fucking needy," Light taunted, "Can't even hold still."

"It's not my fault," you pouted.

L chuckled and kissed your ear, continuing to play with the tender nubs on your chest.

"It's alright, sweetheart. Feels good when you move like that," he soothed.

Another whiny sound of need flowed from your lips before you melted back against the man behind you. Coherent thoughts could no longer form in your head. Not when you felt so full. So fucking stretched to the limit.

Light could see you fading. He pumped himself in harder, his balls swinging and brushing against the base of L's cock. His rich eyes watched the man below you. He took in his slight changes in expression when you clamped around them. He noted how his eyes softened when you let out a little squeak.

After a few moments of his staring, L finally looked up at Light. He could tell he had something to say from the intensity in his gaze

"I thought you said we were friends," Light grunted, "Do friends fuck their friend's girlfriend behind his back?"

"I didn't lie. If I didn't consider you my friend, I wouldn't have hesitated to take her all for myself," L answered, calm in spite of the situation.

Your boyfriend's glare hardened, but a fire burned within him. He wasn't sure what it was. The carelessness? The challenge? He couldn't pinpoint it, yet something about what L said worked him closer to the edge. He felt the coils of release constricting within him.

 His focus shifted to you. He saw the way your head bobbled around as though you weren't even conscious. Reaching out, he grabbed your face. Your cheeks squished under the pressure of his fingertips, and your glossy eyes opened again.

"Sluts don't get to pass out, baby. Keep those pretty eyes open. Want you looking at me when you lose it," he said.

"Sorry..." you hummed as you came back to reality.

L's hands hadn't stopped groping at your tits. After Light finished talking, he swooped in with his gentler voice.

"Are you getting close? You gonna cum all over both of us?"

You mewled and nodded, harsh breaths leaving you. Seeing how eager you are, Light's hand released your jaw and found your cunt instead. His fingers roughly rubbed at your clit, ripping more cries out of you. He spit down onto your already soaked folds.

"Let go then," he directed, "Cum for us. Let's see you finish."

His commanding words struck you and spurred you onward towards the finish line. Your hips bucked as your body quivered with the need to explode.

You finally found release when both of them thrust in unison, striking the right spots to throw you over the edge. Your body rolled with the waves of pleasure crashing over you. You could feel their hands still on you. Their palms rubbed while their fingers caressed and teased you through it. Both of their breathing became stilted as you squeezed around them impossibly tight.

L was the first to let go and allow himself to ride out the high with you. He spilled himself inside you with a few jerks of his hips and a whine erupting from his mouth. Burying his face against your throat, his arms encircled you tight.

Light kept thrusting, working you both through it. He hit his own high as you both began to come down from yours. A strangled groan fell from his lips. He tilted his head back before leaning forward and collapsing into your chest. His hips rutted forward, pumping the last of his spend into you.

It was a little difficult with Light's added weight on top of you, but L managed to wriggle his hips and pull himself out. As soon as his length popped out, you felt the stinging subside almost instantly. A dull ache replaced it. You didn't imagine walking anywhere far for at least the next twenty-four hours. Their shared loads leaked from you, seeping out around your boyfriend's softening length.

L was the most lucid of the three of you. With care, he shifted his position and held you against his chest from the side. Light still lied with his head over your pounding heart. Eventually, he eased his cock out of you. He didn't worry about the mess right now. You all could clean up in a little bit.

He turned his head to look up at you. His eyes met yours, and for the first time since he found out, he looked more hurt than anything else. You studied the expression before stroking his cheek and planting a tender peck on his lips.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

He didn't say anything back. Instead, he closed the centimeter gap again and kissed you once more. The few seconds your lips were connected could feel like none of this mess was real. When your skin was on his, it was just you and him.

Your fingers threaded into his soft hair as L's digits rubbed your back. He sighed at the gentle touch, allowing himself to enjoy it for a few moments before he rose and leaned back.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he looked at the two of you.

"So... you really want to try and just... do this? Until we find Kira?" he asked.

"If it's ok with you..." you replied. You half expected him to laugh in your face before walking out. But he doesn't do anything so bitter.

He nodded. Worse than anything else, you could see on his face he really did intend on trying. He was going to try his hardest at this for you.

You reached forward and took his hand, guiding him closer to you again. "We can figure it out as we go. And then when we're done, we can all decide what to do together," you offered. You glanced up at L to make sure he was ok with that too, but the quick nod he gave you told you he was.

"Alright," Light agreed.

As a seal, you gave them each a soft kiss before smiling a little. Once you began to settle back in and grabbed the remote to change what played on the tv, both men's eyes found each other's in a silent, temporary truce.

Then Light looked to you again.

"Maybe you'd wanna play that game again?" he suggested, trying not to seem too soft about it.

Your eyes lit up, and you straightened out a little. "That would be so fun. Maybe you guys will be more relaxed about it this time," you teased.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head but didn't protest too much.

"You could try out that thing I told you with the shell. Maybe you'll win this time around," L added to Light as you got up to fix your clothes and start up the game.

"Maybe. You can't finish first every time, you know," he responded.

They both settled back into the couch after readjusting their own clothing. The familiar music started up on the tv as you handed them both controllers. Even though the situation between the three of you wasn't completely resolved, for the first time in months, you didn't feel the weight of secrecy across your shoulders.

[h4sanz]

PLAY DATE — L AND LIGHT

a/n: first death note fic !! been a fan of this series forever, so happy to get to write for it :3 commission for @nexysworld... love u bad fr <3 rbs and comments always appreciated :))) 3.7k words

cw: 18+ content. p in v, double penetration, very mild dub-con, objectification/dollification, toxic relationship, creampie, edging(?), fingering, slightly ooc (moreso light than L)

You're obedient to a fault.

That's a good thing in Light's eyes. He doesn't have time to ponder your feelings. He doesn't particularly care enough to do so. You're pliable. You make it so much easier for him. There isn't an issue of you questioning him, or acting out if he doesn't give you attention. He'd had enough of that with Misa — she had been nothing but a means to an end.

But you?

Light feels as though his every action finds a justification when your eyes meet his. You're so innocent, so sweet. He feels as though if he squeezes tight enough, you'll shatter within his grasp. Sometimes, he feels the overwhelming urge to press down; to make you quiver at his touch. He wonders if, like the porcelain dolls his sister used to collect, his rough handling of you would crack the surface of your smooth, unmarred skin. 

The world is wrong. Light knows this as much as he knows he needs air — you are something to be protected from the unworthy that would like nothing more than to corrupt you. You're weak. He doesn't mean it as an insult, just an unequivocal truth. You need someone to protect you, and he trusted no one else with the task.

He sighs as he checks his Rolex — a simple, silver piece handed down from his father. It wasn’t anything particularly grand; the surface was scratched from years of use, but it was a luxury he'd grown to be rather fond of. The seconds tick down almost painfully slowly as he stares, focusing entirely on the longer hand as he watches it tick by with each passing minute.

Light was uncharacteristically nervous about today. He had no qualms about L finding out he was Kira; he knew he was smarter than the detective. Better than him. He'd find out his name soon enough, he was sure of it. But it wasn't his identity that had his heart racing with each tick of his watch.

L's… suspicions of him had led to a rather unfortunate situation — he wanted to observe you. Light is careful not to give anything away; each word that falls from his mouth is carefully crafted to elicit the reaction he desires. L has come to notice you’re less tactical in your speech, more sincere. You had an innocent demeanour, one that had admittedly attracted L’s curiosity.

L is sure that if you were aware of Light’s true nature, he would be able to draw a confession out of you easily.

“You’re late,” Light says simply as he opens the door for you, a crease forming between his brows as he regards you. His eyes slide up and down your body, taking in your outfit with a critical eye. “This isn’t what we agreed upon. Did you not like the outfit I bought for you?” 

His jaw tenses briefly, a small huff of hair escaping his nose. He shakes his head, briefly glancing at his watch once more before he allows his arm to fall against his side. “It doesn’t matter. You remember what I told you? Don’t speak unless spoken to ��� Ryuzaki already has his suspicions; I don’t need you making things more difficult for me. Do you understand?”

You nod softly, glancing up at his face through your lashes. Light finds himself having to suppress a shiver at the action, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly, quickly schooling his expression into something more guarded.

“Good. You’ve been so good for me lately. Don’t disappoint me today.” He murmurs, taking your hand to drag you along with him.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A day passes, and L has already almost entirely forgotten about his initial objective. Sharing a room with you and Light had been a convenience at first — he wanted to be sure he could keep a close eye on the both of you at all times. This was a mistake, and one that he was quickly realising. 

L has never been one for much socialisation, speaking to others only when it is entirely necessary, yet he is immediately able to decipher that you are different. You shrink back at the smallest amount of questioning, eyes wide and doe-like whenever you feel as though you might have said the wrong thing. L is not a stupid man, nor is he impulsive or particularly driven by personal desires.

He was observant to a fault, and his fault appears to come in a pretty package wrapped in silk and lace with Light attached to her arm. Light’s infatuation with you irritates him to no end, even if he understands it. He wants to attach himself to your arm, but Light presents an issue. He’s willing to indulge in the game to a childish degree. One thing L hates more than anything is losing.

That same thought runs through his head as Light finally leaves the room, giving him a brief moment alone with you. “Forgive me,” he begins, regarding you with a small tilt of his head as he gains your attention. “Light seems to dislike you speaking to me. Is there a reason for this?”  

You tense slightly at the question, if only because you know Light would not be happy to find out you were speaking to L without him there to monitor you. “He’s like that, sometimes. He doesn’t let me speak with other guys much.”

The words are a half-truth, but they held honesty, nonetheless. Light was particularly cautious when it came to you being in L’s presence, but he’s always been the more possessive type. 

“I see,” he replies, resting his chin between the space where his two knees connect, his arms wrapped around his calves as he hugs his legs to his chest. He scrutinizes you with an almost childlike curiosity, but there’s a glimmer of something else in his eyes. Something infinitely more dangerous.

“I cannot say I blame him,” he continues after a short moment, humming thoughtfully. “You’re certainly… fragile. With the current state of things, I would have kept a close eye on you, too.”

“I’m capable of looking after myself.” You reply, brows furrowing slightly at his words. His lips pull down slightly at that, his gaze examining you once again. “I did not mean any harm by my words, but I simply must disagree. If Light is shown to be innocent, you are far from safe. You gave up your name easily upon our first meeting, having no certainty that I wasn’t Kira. In the few times you’ve visited, you made no attempt to conceal your ID. It has been caught on security numerous times.”

He pauses, extending his index finger to your identification, slid behind a clear case on the back of your phone, clearly visible to anyone who may pass by. “You are rather clumsy. If anyone in the task force was Kira, you could have died ten times over by now.”

“I didn’t realise.” You admit quietly, reaching out to flip your phone over despite knowing it made no difference. You can feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment.

“You see the best in people. It is an endearing trait, but an entirely stupid one. Perhaps it would be safer for you to stay here. I would hate for your connections to Light and myself to put you in danger.” He doesn’t mention his suspicions of a second Kira, deciding that you would be much more cooperative if he made it appear that his concern of you being close to Light was due to the possibility of his innocence — a theory that he was finding more evidence against with each passing day.

“My instincts rarely lead me astray.” He adds after you remain silent, feet dropping to the floor so he can lean forward, reaching out with a single finger to direct you to meet his gaze. “You should consider what I said. It would be beneficial to have Light close, and I would feel more at peace if you remained, as well.”

Footsteps are heard approaching the door, and L is quick to lean back, turning his attention to the tray of sweets at his side. He hums in thought as he scans through them, paying no mind to Light as he re enters the room. L might be good at showing nothing in his expression, removing a slice of cake from the display as Light’s gaze flicks across the room, but you’ve always been awful at hiding things. He frowns as he takes in your expression, noting instantly the nervous manner in which you chew on your lower lip, unable to meet his gaze. He joins you on the sofa, placing a protective arm around your shoulders to draw you towards him.

“I shouldn’t have to ask, but you behaved while I was gone, right?” He whispers into your ear, words laced with a hint of warning. At your small nod, he scoffs. “You seem nervous. You can’t even handle a single moment without me guiding you, can you?”

Light cannot find it within himself to be surprised at the guilty expression that crosses your face at his words. You look more like a scolded puppy than girl in that moment, a look that he’s very accustomed to. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” he huffs, expression turning into one of annoyance. You might not be open about it, but he’s convinced something happened when you were gone. “You’ve always been more face than brains, hmm? A girl like you is pleasant to look at, but there’s clearly not much thinking happening up here, is there?”

He taps your head, and you make a small noise of protest, attempting to press further against his side to placate him. The interaction has clearly gained L’s attention, but neither you nor Light notice in the moment. “I’m sorry, we were only talking.”

Light gives a brief glance in L’s direction then, knowing he should be careful about what he says next. He’d have to play more into the jealous boyfriend role — though that would hardly be difficult with the irritation steadily rising within him. “Is that so? Just talking? Thought I told you that pretty little head should only be worrying about me?”

His words are a warning, a way of interpreting if you let too much slip. You can hear it in his tone as much as you can see it in his gaze, but before you can speak, L cuts you off.

“I was only informing her she should be more careful, seeing as you failed to address how stupid it is that she so openly displays her name in her phone case.” The words appear calm, but there’s a hint of enjoyment in L’s tone. He enjoys being able to get one over on Light, no matter how small of a win it is. Light’s expression darkens, his jaw clenching as he turns his gaze to L. “Right. So you think it’s acceptable to tell my girl how she should be acting? I can look after her myself.”

“Perhaps you’re getting sloppy,” L bites back easily, an amused smile tugging at one corner of his lips. “Your girlfriend could easily be dead by now. It could be luck, I’m sure. The more likely scenario is you didn’t care about her ID because you knew no harm would come to her. How peculiar, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Are you insinuating I’m Kira because I overlooked a simple thing? I don’t keep tabs on her every action.”

L steps in before Light has a chance to continue. “It certainly appears like you do, and I have not known you to make such easily avoidable mistakes in the time we have worked the case together. “

“Guys—” Any attempt you make to diffuse the situation is easily cut off by both men. L shushes you gently at the same time Light snaps, “Quiet!”. You shrink back instantly, expression nervous as Light’s hold on you tightens.

“I don’t like how closely you seem to be examining my relationship, Ryuzaki. Are you sure this is really about uncovering Kira? It seems more like jealousy on my end.” Light hums, a lazy grin growing on his face as he notices L’s expression shifting slightly. “Ah. I’m not wrong, am I? You like her.”

Light grins, peeling you gently away from his side. You’re confused as he guides you by your hips to stand, but you allow him to manoeuvre you without complaint. He pushes you towards L, leaning back in his seat. “Go on then. You seem convinced you can do a better job than me.”

“Light?” You say with wide eyes, stumbling slightly as he pushes you towards L. The other man looks equally surprised, though he doesn’t seem to have any issues with your sudden closeness.

“Shh, baby. You’re not cut out to be thinking all by yourself. Ryuzaki wants to show me how I should be treating you.” He coos, that soft tone he tends to reserve only for you succeeding in turning you pliant almost instantly. You nod softly, taking a few nervous steps in L’s direction. The man makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, tired eyes trailing along your figure. This is what he had wanted — another means of rising above Light, another win for under his belt. But it’s an entirely different thing to be faced with you, your eyes wide and trusting as you stop barely inches away from him.

L reaches out to touch you, and you melt. His hands grasp your hips curiously, pulling you slightly closer, almost experimentally. You let it happen, legs parting without hesitation as he drags your thighs apart with a strong grip. There’s no hint of displeasure on your face, barely even a reaction save for the soft huff of breath that spills past your lips.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Light hums from his spot on the couch, eyes locked onto the scene in front of him. “She’ll do whatever you tell her to, you know. She takes to training exceptionally well.”

You’re sickeningly sweet, L decides as his hands slide up so they can fiddle with the hem of your pretty lace dress. It’s no wonder he finds himself increasingly infatuated with you. He has always been a fan of sweet things. Deft fingers slide under your dress and drag along your thighs, the coldness of his touch drawing goosebumps to the surface of your skin.

“I am curious.” L admits softly, his eyes leaving your body to glance directly at Light, addressing the other man as if you aren’t even there. “She seems… sensitive. Is there anything she particularly enjoys?”

Light stands then, approaching you from behind. His eyes darken as he watches the shape of L’s hand tracing your skin under your dress, an undeniable heat building in his stomach. “She’s just happy to get the attention. Isn’t that right, doll?”

Before you can respond, Light’s fingers tangle in your hair, forcing you to nod. “See? She just wants someone to look after her.”

Light’s hands join L’s, his fingers grasping the hem of your dress so he can slowly pull it upwards, exposing inch after inch of soft skin. His fingers dip under the waistband of your panties, teasingly dragging the fabric down until they drop to the floor, pooling at your ankles. “She’s prettiest here. Go on, baby, step out of them.”

You step out of them one foot at a time, eyes hazily gazing over your shoulder to meet your boyfriend’s. A cocky grin spreads across his face, his eyes flicking across your face. The smirk only widens as you let out a soft mewl when L directs his attention on your dripping cunt, parting your folds with nimble fingers.

“You’re soft,” L hums to himself, the words appearing more like an observation than a compliment. He thumbs gently over your clit, eyes shifting to take in your reaction to the touch. At the sound of your shaky sigh and the sight of your brows furrowing with pleasure, he repeats the action.

“Don’t you feel pretty like this, baby?” Light purrs, pressing himself against you from behind. The hard line of his arousal is obvious against the curve of your ass, his fingers digging into your hips as he ruts against you with a shaky sigh. “Showing off how perfect you are for me. Ryuzaki is lucky I’m letting him play with my favourite doll, isn’t he, baby?”

“Yeah…” You breathe, head tilting back against Light as L presses the tips of two fingers against your entrance, brushing against you a few times before slowly sinking them into your tight heat. 

“Shh… Just nod, baby. You’re normally better than this. I’m disappointed. Dolls aren’t supposed to speak, are they?” Light chastises lightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh enough that it borders on painful. You bite your lip, suppressing a soft whimper as you shake your head.

“Good. Good, that’s better. I don’t want you showing me up. You’re usually so much fun to play with.”

“She’s tight.” L murmurs to himself, eyes flicking to Light’s face over your shoulder briefly before his attention returns to your cunt. He prods and pokes at you almost clinically, exploring you before withdrawing his fingers. 

“Imagine how tight she’d be taking both of us.” L groans softly at Light’s words, unable to suppress the soft noise. He was enjoying this far more than he thought he would, the rough fabric of his jeans already tenting obscenely. Light grasps your wrists, gently bringing your hands to the front of L’s jeans. “Help him take them off.”

His tone is soft, laced with that sweetness he always uses when you’re like this. The command registers a few moments later in your mind, your hands working quickly to unzip L’s jeans. You slide them down, swallowing thickly at the sound of fabric rustling behind you.

“I’m feeling… Generous.” Light hums after a moment, gently nudging you forward to straddle L’s lap. “I’ll let you have the first taste, get her ready for us both.”

“How kind.” L responds dryly, but he doesn’t hesitate in fisting his cock a few times to coax it into full hardness. He notches the head of his cock against your entrance with a barely concealed shudder, slowly pressing into you. Light waits until that cute little crease between your brows fades into pleasure before he lifts your hips slightly, allowing him to settle between L’s spread legs and line himself up. He wouldn’t want to break his favourite toy by pushing her too fast, after all.

“Relax.” Light whispers, palm rubbing up and down your back before pressing down on your tailbone, forcing you into more of an arch. He slots into you easily, his head tipping back as a quiet groan builds in his throat. He’s almost tempted to make Ryuzaki a more permanent fixture during your ‘play time’ with how deliciously the other man’s cock rubs against his own. Light’s head drops to the crook of your neck, his breaths coming out in hot pants against your skin as he rocks into you, setting a steady pace alongside L. 

You’re so full it makes you ache, and you find yourself unable to hold in the moans bubbling in your chest as both men rock their hips in tandem, their lengths rubbing against you in a way that has you seeing stars. Light clicks his tongue softly, his fingers sliding up from your hips to your throat, briefly squeezing before they continue their path to your mouth, slipping past your plump lips to press down against your tongue.

“You’re certainly vocal for a toy.” Light admonishes, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust. By the time you notice the small furrow of L’s brows, the man has already decided Light’s actions are a challenge. You don’t have the time to steady yourself before he fucks into you more aggressively, ensuring each one of his thrusts has you whining around your boyfriend’s fingers. He’s determined to make you act against Light’s expectations, to have you making as many pretty noises for him as he can.

“I think she sounds sweet,” L huffs, looking up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze. His hips drag in circular motions as he tries to find your sweet spot, insistent on being the one who makes you cum. A small, proud smile tugs at his lips as you let out a particularly obscene moan, his entire focus honing in on hitting that spot with each thrust. Your moans grow increasingly louder and more garbled as Light presses his fingers further into your mouth, spit pooling past your lips and drooling down your chin as you’re filled repeatedly by both men. 

Your thighs tremble and clench desperately, your walls tightening around both lengths as your peak rapidly approaches. You’re shaking by the time your release rolls over you in waves, slick arousal gushing from you and completely soaking them both. L’s expression is undoubtedly smug as he glances at Light over your shoulder, clearly taking credit for making you feel good.

You can hear an irritated huff from behind you, Light’s thrusts growing sloppy as his own release creeps up on him. From the lazy circles L is drawing with his hips, you can tell he isn’t far behind. Light’s fingers slip past the seal of your lips with an ‘pop’, the wet digits trailing down your cheek before settling on your shoulder. He tightens his grip, using the leverage to hold you still as he ruts into your cunt desperately. He cums first, his cock pulsating as he fills your greedy cunt with his seed. 

Light rides out his orgasm with a few languid strokes, watching L’s face closely. As soon as he sees the first signs of the man’s orgasm approaching, he taps your hips twice. You register the command in an almost dazed manner, standing up on shaky legs.

L whines, his dick kicking helplessly against his stomach as he looks between the two of you. Light only grins, holding your waist in a possessive hold. 

“What? I was hardly going to let you finish inside my girl.” Light coos, voice laced with an inflated sense of pride. “Maybe next time.”

L’s expression twists to one of thinly veiled annoyance, realising it was the plan all along. Fine. He can accept his losses.

Next time, he’ll win.

[h4sanz]

‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ haunted

spooktober 2024 masterlist

⁶𖤐⁶pairing: demon!fyodor dostoevsky x maid!fem!reader

⁶𖤐⁶genre: (light) smut w/ plot; 18+ only!

⁶𖤐⁶content warnings: nsfw 18+, virginity loss, implied age gap, demon marking, dubcon, supernatural, blood kink, corruption kink, 19th century au inaccuracies

⁶𖤐⁶summary: you're a young maid working for a mysterious, occult-obsessed household, so everything seems normal when a demon appears out of nowhere and is friendly to you...until he marks you; myshka = mouse

⁶𖤐⁶word count: 6.0k

You shivered upon feeling a cold breath against the nape of your neck. Not that it was too unusual⎯this new house was always chilly. That was one of the many strange things you stopped questioning once you started being a maid for the wealthy Ivanov family. The lady of the house had taken pity upon you, a sweet and innocent orphan of the church.

The Ivanovs themselves were interesting...they were obsessed with the occult and their house reflected it. The whole house was black, dimly lit by chandeliers, covered in dark rugs and obscure art, and displayed the family's several haunted possessions. Allegedly, Lady Ivanova had sacrificed one of her children to summon a demon, and several of the previous maids and servants had mysteriously disappeared after having tea with her.

However, you didn't have time to worry about baseless rumors with how much they were paying you and how much more freedom you had now that you were gone from the orphanage. The Ivanovs had gone to a big circus in Ukraine, so you were currently watching the house and in charge of keeping it tidy in their absence.

You resumed hanging up some of Lady Ivanova's gowns, alone in her gothic yet luxurious room. Although cleaning usually brought you some peace, your skin always crawled upon going into her room. She had several creepy dolls, stuffed animals, and figures up on the wall, and you would turn them around to avoid their large glass eyes and deranged faces. Exhaling, you were shocked to see your breath materialize from the low temperature of the room, watching the white fog leave your lips.

Crash!

You yelped upon hearing something fall to the floor. Turning around, you looked to see a wooden demon and a doll dressed in a maid's uniform on the floor. The doll's black gown and white lace apron mirrored your attire. Your stomach turned as you hastily picked them up, rotating them to check for any damages before placing them back on their respective wall shelves. You put the doll back, but the wooden demon's shelf was a bit higher, so you went up on your tiptoes to try and reach it, but your hands flailed helplessly in the air. You sighed as you went down, looking up again to try and see if there was a better angle to reach up from.

Stepping to the side, you used your free hand to grip a nearby shelf and went up on your toes again, grabbing the demon figurine, but the outcome was still the same. You heard the hearty laugh of a man in the background, but you dismissed it, determined to put the demon up. Hearing voices was nothing new, and it seemed like the most activity always came from the lady's room. You swore whatever was in her room was always mocking you.

"Need some help, little girl?" You heard a sultry voice close to you.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Just let me put this cursed piece of wood back on the shelf! You tried to ignore it⎯after all, you weren't quite sure if you were going mad or if supernatural presences really did dwell within the house.

You stepped up again, struggling until a firm hand wrapped around your waist and pushed the figurine up back to its rightful place. You paused, relieved yet alarmed by whatever presence had its chest pressed to your back, which had caused your skin to run cold again.

You yelped upon feeling another squeeze on your waist and cold breath fanning the shell of your ear, "Not even a thank you? Did no one teach you your manners, dear?" Whipping around, you tried to catch the man's face but all that was left was a faded brown book. Peering over, you caught its title.

Crime and Punishment.

Sighing, you turned all the dolls and figures back to their original position before suspiciously picking the book up and heading to the library.

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

You had always been pretty lonely. At the orphanage, you watched as your friends got adopted into new homes and the sisters started to leave for new places of need. Even though you had left that place, the Ivanovs had more hired you as a servant rather than as a daughter. You couldn't get along as well with the children either. The fraternal twins that were close to your age both tried to play tricks on you and cut your hair in your sleep, so you tried to avoid conversation with them. You just cleaned and did as you were told, reading in the unused library in your spare time.

Although the house never really felt empty⎯there was always some sort of entity lurking. Lady Ivanova had made you discard the cross necklace the church gifted you, claiming it would scare the 'residents' of the house. They too would play games with you, stealing and rearranging your belongings or messing up the furniture and decor, but it had stopped shortly after an old butler suddenly quit. After that, you would only see human-like shadows move across the walls and hear the disembodied voice of a Russian man. The house got even colder, and it was always the worst inside the library. You had an underlying suspicion that some new entity had possessed the house, but you were always too scared to search further.

But today you had to push aside your fears and enter the library to put the book back. Walking towards the bookshelves, you spotted some faint white smoke in the distance and followed the scent of freshly brewed black tea to a small table with two chairs.

Seated in one of the chairs was a tall, pale man wearing a white suit and matching ushanka, with a long black coat draped over his shoulders. He was holding a novel in one hand and a teacup in the other. You hugged the book tighter to your body. You had never seen a full-body apparition before, much less one that could consume human food or read literature. This spirit must be powerful.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the older man spoke first, "Ah, myshka, you finally decided to join me," he pulled the empty chair closer to him and patted on its pastel floral cushion, "Come, sit. I made tea for us."

A shiver ran down your back as his magenta eyes stared into you, along with the pleased smile on his face. You stepped back in fear, "W-Who are you? Another malevolent house spirit?" You mentally planned the fastest escape route since you weren't allowed to exorcise any entities per the family's rules, but the man sighed upon seeing your wandering eyes. He placed his novel on top of a neat pile of books beside his chair and crossed his legs, tilting his face to the side.

"Well, I am possessing this house. But I'm just in here because of boredom." He flashed you another warm smile, but you still stared at him warily. He had to build up some more trust with you, so he pushed a tiered stand with Russian tea cakes and gingerbread towards you, "Myshka, I know you're lonely, and you surely must be hungry from all that cleaning!" He pushed a teacup with hot tea and a smaller pitcher with condensed along with the stand, "Why don't you just have some tea and talk with me, so you can eat, and I can relieve some of my boredom? No one can tell you off anyways⎯there's nobody in this house but the two of us".

Your eyes perked up at that, and you couldn't deny the appeal of the sweets in front of you⎯dessert had always been your weakness. Clearly the stranger didn't seem to have any bad intentions, but you couldn't really tell since you'd always trusted people a bit too easily. You were also still shaken from the figures falling off the wall, so you supposed a short mental break wouldn't hurt. You still had over two weeks to clean, anyways.

"At least sit and talk with me for a while to repay me for helping you put those cursed dolls back on the shelf". You clutched the book harder.

"That was you? You helped me?"

He nodded slowly in response, laughing to himself as he recalled seeing you struggle on your feet, trying to pull yourself up on the wall for dear life. "Indeed. I tried to play a trick on you at first, but watching you jumping up was so pitiful I had to come to your salvation."

Salvation, huh. You exhaled, deciding that having tea with your so-called savior wasn't too dangerous.

The man smiled as you slowly uncrossed your arms and placed Crime and Punishment on top of his little book pile. As you sat down on the cushion, you watched his expression to see if anything would change, but he only kept his upturned smile. You usually played along with any spirits that came to the house, but it didn't seem like the man wanted anything more than tea with you. Somehow, you felt like you could trust him.

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

Sipping your milky tea, you took in the new stranger in front of you. You learned his name was Fyodor, and he was summoned by the Ivanovs, supposedly for protection from lesser spirits. He didn't elaborate much on his summoning ritual, but he emphasized that he was simply just interested in observing humans of this era.

"So...are you..." You put your teacup down, trying to take in his appearance, "...a phantom?" You were met with a blank stare, so you guessed again, "...Poltergeist? But you don't seem very disruptive..."

Fyodor sneered cockily, "You think that lowly of me, dear?" You pouted, dipping some gingerbread in your tea.

"I'm a demon. I've been watching over this world for a long time."

A chill ran down your spine from that. A demon? Wasn't he being too nice for a malevolent being? You guessed that explained why the house was so icy and devoid of its usual activity, though. Although your heartbeat was increasing, you tried to remind yourself of the fact that he didn't want to hurt you.

"Do you...drink blood then?" Fyodor leaned forward, eyes full of amusement. You swore you could almost see a glint of red in them.

"Hmmm...not quite. It doesn't satiate me anymore, and I've long outgrown the taste. I much prefer the taste of souls and innocence now, although I'll occasionally indulge in mortal food".

"How old are you then?" You asked, biting into a jam-filled tea cake. Fyodor smirked, entertained by your innocent curiosity. He also found your love for sweets to be quite cute and endearing, matching your delightful personality.

"I stopped keeping track a while ago, but I've lived long enough to see humans repeat their foolishness time and time again," Fyodor tipped your chin up, running a pale finger over your lips to collect the stray powdered sugar and jam sticking on them. His touch made your stomach flutter, and he brought his finger to his mouth, "In human years, I'm probably close to my late twenties⎯maybe 27 or so?" He licked the tip of his finger, making your cheeks heat up profusely. "Well, I'm certainly older than you, no?"

You shivered from the fact that he'd basically indirectly kissed you, "Y-Yes, I guess so!" You chirped, making Fyodor snicker.

"You keep shivering, darling. This house must be too cold..." He shifted, standing up to walk over and drape his fur-lined coat over your smaller frame. You gripped onto the long coat, reveling in the warmth it gave you, murmuring a grateful thank you under your breath. He bent down on his knees to get closer to your height and cupped your face tenderly. "Better?"

You nodded, sure he could see the blush across your face. "Stay warm, myshka, I'd be upset if you froze to death one day and couldn't talk to me anymore." His smile suddenly dropped, which caught you a bit off-guard; you watched him stand back up and dust-off his clothes, signaling he was going to leave.

Remembering your maid duties, you started to stack the fine china and gather the dainty silverware before you felt Fyodor's hands stop you. You looked up in confusion.

"Is something wrong? I have to clean up. If I don't, we'll get rat⎯"

"Leave it there, dear. I'll take care of it." Giving him a puzzled look, you put your hands back in your lap. "I'll talk to you tomorrow night. There are some ghosts outside I have to take care of." Somehow, him leaving you made you sad. It reminded you of when you'd make friends at the orphanage just for them to suddenly leave.

Fyodor took your delicate hand in his and brought it up to his lips, and he pressed a light kiss on the backs of your fingers, lingering momentarily to say, "Sleep well myshka," and then slowly fading away, the tea set-up going away with him.

You pulled his coat closer to your body, "Goodnight, Fyodor..." You whispered into nothing.

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

That night, you couldn't stop thinking about him...the mysterious demon haunting the house who somehow was nice to you. Did that make him a friend of some sort? You weren't too sure, as the church and orphanage had instilled in you to always fear and never trust supernatural beings.

Anxiously tossing and turning, you didn't see Fyodor again until the next day. You had just finished drying your freshly washed hair, and you nearly screamed after walking out of your bathroom and seeing him sitting at the foot of your bed, composedly reading a book again.

Upon hearing you stumble across the floor, he perked up with his signature smirk, "Ah, dear, did I scare you? I did tell you I would come back tonight, didn't I?" He slowly closed his book, and placed it next to a flower vase on your nightstand.

You shivered⎯there was an instant change in temperature as you stepped closer to your bed. It got colder and colder as you approached the demon. Fyodor's lowered gaze made you conscious of your thin nightgown which generously exposed your neck and collarbones and stopped right before your cleavage. Not wearing anything underneath, you used your arm to cover your chest, which was definitely more visible thanks to the cold.

"You did mention that, yes," you quickly slipped into your bed, pulling the covers up to shield your upper body, "I guess I just didn't expect you to come so...late." You brought your knees up to your chest, "I'm freezing..." You whispered, feeling a deep chill in your bones.

Fyodor smiled, turning towards you, "Want me to hold you for a bit? Both of our bodies against each other should provide some warmth, no?" His sultry voice sent tingles throughout your body, and you caught the dark purple glow in his eyes reflected by the moonlight.

Feeling a strange pull between the two of you, you nodded, making an opening in the covers for Fyodor to slip into. "S-sure!" You replied, feigning calmness, though your cheeks flushed under his intense gaze. You had never been this close to a man before, much less in bed with a man.

As he moved in next to you⎯which felt like it was taking forever⎯Fyodor chuckled softly, sensing your shyness and nervousness. You tried to move back against the wall to create some distance, but the demon pulled your chest firmly against his, bringing your faces close together while one of his legs snaked in between yours.

"F-Fyodor!" You tried to back up, not used to the close contact, but he held you in place. As you turned slowly, your breath caught in your throat as you met his bright eyes. His presence was equally alluring and terrifying. The room was lowly lit by the hazy night and your warm candles, but it was enough to see the sharp lines of his jaw and the way his lips curved in a mocking smile.

"Are you scared, little maid?" One of his hands went to your lower waist to caress the area, while the other tucked your hair behind your ears. You whimpered lightly as Fyodor drew circles and pressed on your stomach, not used to the foreign sensation or the tension building in your lower abdomen.

You tried backing up again but stopped upon feeling his soft lips run under your ear and hearing a soft groan leave his mouth, ""Mmm...your skin…your hair, so soft and silky…your scent…it's intoxicating," his lips went down to your décolletage and your breath caught in your throat, "...like the sweetest, finest roses of summer. I could just bury my face in your hair and breathe you in all day..."

All you could do was close your eyes, sure your once cold body was hotter than fire now from his touch. You gripped onto his shoulders tightly until you felt his warm breath leave your neck, and you slowly opened your eyes back up and halted his movements, "Fyodor, please⎯it's too much. I've never been touched by a man like this before⎯" You flashed your doe eyes at him, and he sighed and pulled away. You pouted, covering your chest again and pulling up your dress, which had slipped down from his coddling, "I'm warm enough now..." You were sure your flushed face and neck were evidence enough.

His hands went back up to gently rest at your waist, and an unreadable emotion circled in his irises⎯no one had ever stopped him from going further, but he guessed it was due to your shameful innocence that the church had instilled in you.

"Right...perhaps my method of warming you up was too...aggressive..." He tilited his head cutely, trying to play off his devious act, "I thought you had already experienced some form of intimacy." You shook your head shyly, and he frowned when you brought your knees back up to your chest to cover your body.

He wasn't too unsatisfied, though, and a gleam of excitement sparkled in his eyes as he thought of the fact that you were completely untouched, and the fact that he had just marked you, unknown to you. Yes, he was going to have fun ruining you.

"...dor! Are you listening to me?!" A soft poke on his cheek snapped the demon out of his thoughts. He peered back down at you, making you shiver when you locked eyes with him, "I-I asked if you would tell me a story from your past. I want to know more about you."

You really were so innocent that you'd already moved past what he just did to you, huh? "A story from my past?" Fyodor brought a finger up to his lip, contemplating, "Shall I tell you about the times I've seduced innocent women to get my way?" You coughed awkwardly, trying to cover up your embarrassed blush.

"N-No! Tell me about a time when you...umm..." Your frantically looked around the dark room, trying to hide how flustered you were from his burning gaze. He laughed, laying his head down against the pillow and motioning for you to do the same.

He patted your head, "Ah, I'm just teasing you, myshka. I'll tell you about the time I infiltrated a vampire's castle." You hesitantly laid down, resting your head on Fyodor's chest and allowing him to continue stroking your hair gently. You listened intently. No heartbeat.

His hands felt comforting in the cold dusk, and the vibrations from his deep voice put you to sleep easily. It was nice⎯it reminded you of a sister from the orphanage who used to tell you bedtime stories late at night when you couldn't sleep from nightmares.

You smiled softly before dozing off into a sweet dream, thinking about how Fyodor could become your new friend, or at least some sort of guardian since he warded off the other spirits in the house.

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

The next morning, you screamed loudly when you saw your reflection in the mirror. You had just taken off your nightgown, and right above the the seam of your underwear, a purple and black marking had suddenly appeared. It appeared to be an amethyst-colored Saint Peter's cross that faded out into strange black sigils.

Afraid of what it was, you jumped into the shower and tried your best to scrub it off, the scalding hot water making you wince. It was futile, though, and it only became more vibrant on your skin. You felt lightheaded, had you been cursed or hexed? Surely nothing presumably stronger than a demon could've appeared in the house?

You touched it again and shuddered. It felt just like when Fyodor was drawing circles on your lower stomach, and you felt funny again. You gasped as the marking became brighter, coincidentally also when you started thinking of Fyodor again. Fyodor.

Wait...maybe he could help you figure out and potentially remove the marking? He was certainly more experienced in supernatural matters anyway. You decided you'd enlist his help later as you slipped your black maid uniform on, grabbing the white lace apron as you made your way to the kitchen to resume your cleaning duties. You hoped you'd see the demon again, who had already disappeared by the time you'd awoken.

Grabbing a pail, you ran some hot water mixed with cleaning solution inside, watching your distorted reflection in the sudsy water, the bubbles swirling and making a rainbow cast from the sun's beams. You counted each one patiently as they formed.

...Or at least you thought you were; you made it to eleven before black spots clouded your vision, and a sudden, intense sensation of heat filled your upper body. You felt a cold pair of hands grab your breasts and circle around your aroused buds. A soft whine left your parted lips as you felt ghostly lips trailing across your neck, gently biting on your pulse points. You closed your eyes again, feeling warmth travel down your body, close to the strange marking.

It felt like you were trapped in a dream, and the hands felt familiar. You intertwined your fingers with the ones caressing your tits and slowly brought them down your dress, lower towards your skirt where a wetness was pooling. You tilted your face to the side to give him better access to your neck, feeling his dark hair tickle your shoulders.

Wait...him? Your eyes shot open, "Fyodor?" You turned around abruptly, but the sensations left instantly. You shrieked upon feeling water on your thighs, and looked down to see the pail overflowing and spilling sudsy liquid all over the kitchen floor. You reached to turn the faucet off, cursing yourself silently for getting distracted out of nowhere and making a mess. Additionally, no one was in sight, and there was no sign of Fyodor anywhere. You didn't even feel a nearby chill.

You sighed, stripping off your soaked dress and sweeping up the spilled cleaning solution with your mop and a few towels. You decided to take a temporary break, bringing the back of your hand to your forehead to check for a fever⎯you'd never gotten such intense heat flashes before.

Back in your bedroom, you didn't even bother changing into different clothes before lying back down on your bed, the cream duvet giving your perspiring skin some comfort. The heat flash had worn you out and made your eyelids heavy, so you barely noticed you'd slipped into a sweet dream.

His hands were back on your body again, this time touching your bare skin. You were on his lap, kissing his pale lips, and you shivered as you felt his cold hands down your back. You gasped as he pulled you down and slowly grinded your hips against his bulge. "F-Fyodor⎯" You moaned as his fingers slipped into your lace panties and he⎯

"Having a nice dream, my little maid?" A raspy voice startled you and pulled you back to reality as you tugged the covers off yourself and sat up, shocked to see the man you were dreaming about in front of you, next to the empty space on your bed. He had a satisfied smirk on his lips again, and his hand slowly went up to pet the top of your head.

You swallowed, hard. You'd never had a dirty dream before, and you certainly didn't expect Fyodor to wake you up in the middle of it. Wait, did that mean he heard you moan his name? You blushed and covered your face in embarrassment, in disbelief by your indecency. He giggled amusedly, "Is something the matter, dear?"

"I⎯" you started, mind still hazy and unsure of what details you could tell him. "What⎯" You were confused...when did he appear, and why were you so disoriented? You recalled wanting to talk to him about something, but your head felt full of too many thoughts.

You felt a burning sensation in your lower abdomen again, which reminded you of everything. You didn't know why, but you grabbed Fyodor's arms and pulled him closer, "I-I think I've been cursed...or hexed..." You tried to collect your thoughts as he wordlessly stared at you, urging you to continue, "There's...a strange mark on me...it looks satanic almost."

That piqued his interest, and he perked up, "A satanic marking, you say? That is my area of specialty...Where is it?" He smiled but it didn't quite connect up to his eyes, which were still intensely trained on your figure.

You swallowed, unable to think straight, "Here..." You trailed your hand down to where it was, right above your white ruffled cotton shorts. His eyes smoldered excitedly, but you stopped right before you could pull the waistband down to show him the mark, suddenly feeling hyper-aware of your lack of clothes. He watched, but you were too shy to continue.

Fyodor sighed, "Feeling shy? Allow me," he pushed you down slowly on the bed, and you yelped upon feeling the pillow hit the back of your head. Your hands flew to the waistband of your shorts quickly, but Fyodor only sneered mockingly, prying your hands away with ease.

"Oh, my little maid, there's no need to hide yourself from me. I've seen things far more…stimulating than this," his clawed hand gently pulled your arm away from your body and moved it to rest on his shoulder, exposing your skin to him, "You have nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, you should feel privileged to have such a...desirable body".

You felt the crimson rushing in your cheeks when you heard him say that, about to protest before he silenced you with a finger to your lip. He pulled the waistband of your shorts down slowly, and he smirked satisfyingly when he saw the purple and black mark sprawled across your skin.

You blushed again, feeling strange because he was basically on top of you, "W-What is it? Is it⎯"

"It looks better than I thought...very good..."

Your eyes widened, and before you could speak, Fyodor slowly traced along the lines of the marking, making you shudder uncontrollably. His fingertips felt like ice on your burning body, and you were already sensitive enough. You gasped and shook when Fyodor got to the center of the marking and pressed down on your womb, his claws slightly digging into your soft skin. You hands went back to halt his movements, but he stopped them again.

"Myshka, does it feel strange? You've never felt pleasure or been touched before..." You whimpered. His voice was so low and alluring, and it was making you even more lightheaded. "This marking...it's the mark of a demon. Given that it's here," He poked your womb again, which made you yelp, "it won't go away until your body's satisfied. Each day you delay it, the sensations will get stronger...You might even die if the feelings get too unbearable." He smiled darkly, continuing his slow tracing, making you shake even more.

"How...How do you know all that?" You questioned.

"How? Well, I was the one who placed it on you, darling." He smirked, and you quivered in fear when you saw fangs poking out. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, pressing you further into the bed, "Ah, my little maid…you're so innocent and fragile…and all mine," his hot breath tickled your skin and he gently nipped at your earlobe, "I want to do so many things to you…so many…sinful things… "

Your body jerked up, half in terror and half in arousal. You couldn't process anything, but you knew you didn't want to die. You felt like you were burning again, and the fact that Fyodor had you pinned down to the mattress with his larger, stronger frame didn't help. You still felt unsatisfied from your dream, and you knew your body wanted more.

"Fyodor, make the feeling go away, please..." You begged, and you swore a glint of red flashed in his eyes.

His hands found your wrists, gripping them tightly as he whispered seductively, "I'll corrupt you gently, darling, as your first and last..." You whimpered as you felt his fingers roam your body, his touch becoming more and more possessive.

"The dream you were having earlier...what sorts of things was I doing to you?" His claws pulled your shorts and panties down to your thighs, "Was I touching you here?" You hips bucked upwards as you felt his fingers run over your slit. It felt like you were being shocked, and you moaned when he started drawing circles around your sensitive clit. Your body jolted from the new sensations, and Fyodor laughed lowly at your amusing responses.

"It was something like this, then?" He pressed your hips back down on the floral sheets, and you swore your eyes rolled back in your head from the new feeling. His fingers sped up, and you gasped when you felt him pinch your arousal.

"Mmm⎯F-Fyodor, 'feels...funny⎯" He chuckled, not offering any sympathy and continuing his fast circles, adding to the heat building up in your lower stomach.

"You're so innocent, myshka...I'll make you feel even better." He grinned manically as he slipped your clothes off your legs and spread your legs further, baring your naked body to him. You shivered, not used to feeling this exposed. You'd never shown your pristine self to a man, or a demon for that matter.

Feeling your hesitation, Fyodor pushed himself between your legs to stop them from closing up and slowly kissed down your heated skin, starting from the valley of your breasts and staring into your eyes until he went down to your womanhood. "So delicate..." He whispered, before placing a kiss on your wet slit, making you whine. "This might hurt a bit, but stay still." You nodded slowly before yelping when you felt Fyodor stop his circling motions to insert a finger inside your tight hole. The pleasure turned painful all of a sudden, and you felt a searing rip course through your lower half, as well as a slight scratch from his claws. You grunted and tears stung your eyes from the intrusion, but it only seemed to turn Fyodor on more.

He groaned, but it bordered a possessive growl, "F-Fuck, myshka, you're so tight⎯" The way your virgin pussy tried to push out his slender finger was driving him mad; he hadn't had a pure maiden like you in so long. "I'm going to ruin you tonight..." He whispered to himself, inaudible to your overstimulated ears.

He pushed his finger back in you, trying to go slower to accommodate the stretch you felt. You kept shaking, so Fyodor bent down to capture your lips softly in a kiss, "Is this your first kiss, too?" You blushed, looking away. Truth to be told, although you'd never been intimate with a man, you had kissed a boy from the orphanage when you were younger. It wasn't exactly the same, but it still counted as a kiss, right? You stayed silent and pulled away for a bit, causing a small surge of jealousy to course through the demon's veins.

"...I see." He used his free hand to tear off your thin tank top, taking a moment to allow his eyes to skim every curve and contour of your body. You reflexively wanted to cover yourself up again, but Fyodor's glare cut into you and stopped you from even thinking further about it.

You gulped and looked down to see him pull back his ring finger, which was now lightly coated in blood. Your blood, from what you guessed was your hymen. The crimson reflected off his irises as he licked it off tantalizingly slow, eyes trained on you the whole time.

Then, before you could process anything, he pushed two fingers back inside of you, making you screech again from shock. It surprisingly didn't hurt as much, perhaps because of the power encased in the marking. When he curled his fingers up inside you, you moaned, loudly. A hand flew to cover your mouth to hide the embarrassing, shameful sounds leaving your lips.

Fyodor scoffed, pushing your arm down again, "Darling, don't cover your mouth. There's no one here but me to hear your pretty noises," He leaned down again, biting the shell of your ear, making you clamp down on his fingers, "I wouldn't claim you like this if I didn't want all of you."

Your mouth fell wide open as he fucked his fingers faster into you, the stretch feeling more bearable now. His thumb went back up to play with your clit and his fingers found the gummy spot inside you that made you see stars. He loved the way profanities and his name repeatedly slipped off your tongue as he went on, knowing you were slowly but surely giving into the hedonistic pleasure he was giving you.

He resumed his kisses and made his movements more shallow, which made you claw at his hands desperately, but it did nothing to stop him. "A-Ah, my stomach feels weird⎯S-Stop⎯"

Your whimpers made him smirk pridefully, "Hah, cumming from just my fingers? It's okay, myshka, I know it feels strange." He caressed your cheek gently, "Just release whenever, okay?"

You felt weak by the time your "release" finally washed over you. The pressure made your vision go blank for a moment and you felt your whole body relax blissfully before slowly tightening back up again.

Your muscles were limp and your cunt was so sensitive that you flinched when Fyodor pulled his fingers away. You breathed heavily, noticing the mark was glowing an angry purple. "Was that..."

"A orgasm, yes." Fyodor brushed the tears from the corners of your eyes and brought his fingers to his mouth, slowly sucking your juices clean. He sighed lustfully, voice dropping to a seductive purr, "This taste...is the closest I can get to Heaven..."

You moaned from his praise, watching him savor your taste on his tongue. Once your heartbeat slowed down a bit, you pulled Fyodor back down, missing the weight of his body against yours.

"You're so stunning, darling. I could just…devour you right here," He ran his tongue along the crook of your neck, baring his fangs on your pressure points. He bit down softly on the spot where he felt your pulse, and you exhaled as you felt him drawing blood from your sweet spots, which felt like euphoria, "But this will have to suffice for now..." Your overheated body finally felt like it was the right temperature, and the marking finally faded away.

You tangled your hands in Fyodor's raven hair, whispering sadly to yourself, "Is this...the last time I'll see you?" Are you going to leave like everyone else? Your eyelids felt heavy.

He chucked softly again, "Myshka, don't you know that once you're in a demon's grasp, there's no escape?" He kissed along your bites, your blood staining his pale lips a pretty cherry red. Somehow, his statement seemed more comforting than threatening, which was strange. Perhaps you really had been corrupted, seeking comfort in the sweet nothings of a being who just wanted to taint your soul and innocence.

Fyodor pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as he gazed into your eyes, gaze soft with longing and desire, "Goodnight, my little maid," He leaned in to give you a gentle, sweet kiss that tasted slightly of iron, "May your dreams be as sweet as your taste upon my lips…"

[h4sanz]

help okay i hope this isn't too soon but im back and i have a thirst. So basically ive been thinking about like di leon and where hes been gone on a mission for a week and when he finally comes home he has like paper work or like something on the computer and reader is just like sitting at his feet with her head in his lap while he works and she starts getting super impatient while hes on a work call and starts to act bratty and whine and stuff and then starts to suck him off and so when he hangs up he pulls her over his knee and punishes her and then they fuck. I was hoping you could put like daddy kink cuz you write it so good i love it and you can add whatever else you think fits. Hope this wasn't too much im sorry if it was.

heyyy :) so i have a fic with a kind of similar premise for leon and thirsts are usually just little blurbs to me, so i'm just gonna write part of this but thank you for the ask. i do love the idea of doing it while on the flip phone <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, blowjob, daddy kink, sort of exhibitionism

The entire desk shakes as Leon's phone chimes with the notification that someone is trying to reach him. For such a small device, it sure had a lot of vibration power.

Normally, he'd just reach over and grab it. Flip open the small cellphone, scan the caller ID, and hold it to his ear with his obligatory "Kennedy speaking."

But right now, he hesitates. He hesitates because you're beneath his desk. You'd managed to tug his pants loose and worm your fingers around his length. Your hand strokes him slowly, moving up and down as you look up at him with those alluring eyes of yours.

He'd been away on a mission for a few weeks, and as expected, your ache for him had grown strong. It would be easy to just brush your hands off and send you away till he finished working at his desk, but he had missed you too. He found it sweet, your need to be attached to him after some time apart. The only thing worse than having to leave you for so long would watching those pretty eyes fill with the sting of rejection.

"Be good while daddy's on the phone," he says quietly, as if he already had the other person on the line, "If you get me in trouble, I promise you your ass is gonna get it tenfold."

You nod in a display of your obedience, as if he was a fool to question you at all.

With your small reassurance, he grabs his phone and whips it open. Chris Redfield. Ok, so at least there was a chance it wouldn't be something too serious.

"Hey, man," he says as he brings it to his ear.

From your place on the ground, you can hear the muffled sound of his friend's voice. It's of no concern to you though. You rest your cheek on his thigh while your eyes stay locked on his cock held between your digits. You stroke it up and down, watching the flushed appendage with adoration.

Above you, he mumbles "mhm's" and "oh yeah, for sure's.” You don’t pay much attention beyond those brief affirmations. All you can think is how bad you want it in your mouth. It just looks so good, and it's been too long since you've had it.

But you shouldn't, right? He told you to be good. But this would feel so good for both of you. It seems like a win-win from your perspective.

"Yeah, that's bullshit. I don't blame you I would've done the- fuck," Leon says, getting cut off by his own hissed expletive as your lips engulf the tip of his dick.

You hear a muffled response on the other end, but you don't look up to see your boyfriend's reaction. Instead, you work his shaft deeper into your mouth.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. Got a cramp in my leg. I get 'em bad after assignments," he mutters.

His hand comes to rest on the back of your head, so clearly, he wasn't too displeased with what you were doing down there.

You brace yourself on his thighs, pads of your fingers digging into the meat of his legs. Rising and falling, your head bobs. You coat the flushed skin with your saliva, letting it dribble from your mouth down to his balls.

His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he wrestles with the desire to moan. Poor Chris on the other side of this call. Not a word he said was taking root in Leon's brain. The short responses were even more half-hearted than before.

"I'm listening. Sorry, I was just... preoccupied when you called, y'know?" you hear him mumble.

You swirl your tongue over the ridge and pull off to lap at more of him. Your hand strokes what your mouth can't cover. You know all his favorite tricks, and you're putting each one to use right now.

Leon runs a hand through his hair, a bit of sweat beginning to break out across his forehead. His eyes flutter, and he closes them as if that would make it easier to stave off the impending explosion of ecstasy. A soft grunt comes from him, one he's hoping isn't loud enough to raise suspicion.

"What? Yeah, she's home right now... I don't know where she is. She's... doing something around here," he responds to Chris asking about you.

A laugh rumbles through the phone. Chris says something along the lines of "you're something else."

"What?" Leon defends, "I swear I'm listening I just-"

He has to stop talking then and there. If he kept going, his words would've morphed into one of the most humiliating whines heard by him, you, and Chris. He couldn't have that. When he recovers, his next words come rushing out.

"I just gotta call you back. Give me about an hour," he says, not waiting for a reply before clapping the phone shut.

His hips buck upwards, and both of his hands land on your head, making you take all of it. You gag a little, but he doesn't lighten up.

"No, no, baby. You wanted daddy so bad. You're gonna take all of me now. No whining," he chides through a clenched jaw.

Your eyes water. You tough it out though and let him fuck your throat till you feel that familiar pulse on your tongue. He lets go down your throat, spilling himself into the warmth of your mouth with a groan. His body slumps into the chair as he rides it out. Only when he's done does he finally let you go.

You pull back and recede onto your haunches, catching your breath. As air refills your lungs, things seem clearer. The moment of relief only lasts a short while though. Seconds later your being pulled up and slung across his lap.

A pout graces your lips as you look up at him.

"Ah ah. Don't look at me like that. What'd I tell you?" he says, already rubbing your ass in preparation for the spanking you're about to get.

"But you didn't get in trouble!" you protest.

"You didn't know that when you pulled that stunt though, so you still are," he teases before landing a firm swat on your ass.

The first of many to come.

[h4sanz]

Dom Emily prentiss x intern fem reader is all i ask!! Smutty ofc, a lil bit of a humiliation kink if you’re comfortable!!! Thank yewww

Packing Heat

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 4.8k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, strap-ons (r!receiving), semi-public sex (office sex, again…), praise, degradation, mommy kink, kind of dub-con at one point, top!Emily, bottom!reader

Summary: Interning at the BAU means you don’t interact with the person in charge a lot. Of course, this doesn’t mean you haven’t seen the section chief in passing or exchanged pleasantries; it's that they’re simple, short-lived and often anti-climatic. However one evening, you find yourself in the desolate office with no chance of going home, work to be done, but no one to sit with you through the process. With only one other soul residing on the sixth floor, it seems Emily may be your best bet for company.

A/n: Listen, could she be more dom? Yes. Is there any humiliation? Not really... But I got lost while writing, so please don't be mad at me... Hope you still enjoy!

When you'd first started at the BAU, it was safe to say you hadn't seen much of the woman calling the shots. There were always updates about when the team were taken out of state, what their cases would entail, the steady progress being made, and the brief comical encounters Garcia spewed around the office. When they were back, everyone made an effort to small talk. They welcomed you well and continued to appreciate the little things you did for them daily. Emily, however, was constantly on the go, meaning every encounter you'd had with her consisted of one-way glances and hopeful smiles in the event she decided to notice her surroundings and the human lifeform less than two metres away. 

She never did, though, until one uneventful evening. 

Almost everyone had vacated the building. The only remaining souls left on the sixth floor were you, Emily, and a one-person cleaning crew—whom you watched exit through glass doors before approaching the brunette's office with shaky knees. Peeking through the window, you saw her attention dart to and from the bright computer screen to the mountains of bureaucratic paperwork lying atop her desk. It was easy to get lost in the little creases between her eyebrows, brought out by the deep scowl she wore, the delicate way her fingers were woven together, and the pads of her thumbs skirting against one another as she pondered in deep thought. 

It was nearing eight, and you were struggling to understand how someone could appear so put together at this late hour, given that their day was most certainly jam-packed with non-stop slog. 

Emily's eyes suddenly flashed up. She squinted toward her door, trying to figure out who'd be here this late other than herself. When she appeared to have worked it out, she leaned back victoriously in her chair, a smug smile on her face, when she called out, "Are you going to stand out there all night?" 

You could have done two things: scurried off like a teenager caught peeping or held your chin up high and walked into the older woman's office with little to no shame. Somehow, you managed to do a mix of both, scurrying in with sagging shoulders, a guilty smile plastered on your face and trembling hands clasping your laptop over your chest.

"Well, it's eerily quiet out there, and I would go home to write this paper. It's just that my roommate and her boyfriend have an awful tendency to forget about volume control when they're—" You cut yourself off, realising it probably wasn't appropriate to talk to your boss about your roommate's over-the-top borderline pornographic soundscape. "I was wondering if I could, you know."

Emily, satirising as ever, waited with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed smile for you to continue your purposefully unfinished question. 

"Sorry, I should let you work." You surrendered to your weak resolve with flushed cheeks and began to turn around.

"Sit," she ordered before you had fully turned back around to the door, nodding to the available chair on the other side of her desk. Her eyes followed your journey to the seat, watching as you placed your laptop down and opened it with shaky fingers. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to her work. "I could do with some company." 

The following silence, starting as unsettling and stagnant, blossomed into something warm and comfortable. There were occasional glances thrown your way and vice versa. Their acknowledgement and appreciation were shown in the form of timid smiles on your end and double takes followed by teasing smirks on Emily's. 

When half an hour had passed, your shoulders had finally relaxed, your fingers had stopped their infernal twitching, and your paper neared its completion. There was a proud smile cresting, and you were trying to prevent it from forming, knowing how dorkish it made you look. But you knew there was no hope when your cheeks ached and your jaw locked. You granted yourself the freedom to display your gloating smile. 

Just as expected, Emily had a questioning look on her face when you dared to look up from the document. There was a playfulness to the upward quirk of her lips - the superiority of a predator knowing the power they have over their prey, ready to prove it at any given moment. 

"I've almost finished," you timidly admitted, feeling obligated to explain as heat infiltrated your jutted-out cheeks. 

Without a second thought, the ravenette stood up and made her way around the desk. She could have easily chosen to turn the laptop around. Instead, she took the far more intimate route. 

Soft curves grazed your shoulder blades, causing you to shiver. The weight finally settled, soft padding pressed flat against your back as Emily read your paper, and suddenly, your stomach had worked itself into looping knots, and your heart was racing. 

The struggle continued as you fought not to fidget, if only to alleviate the growing tension mounting between your thighs. This was only made worse when Emily's right hand left the back of your chair to drop down over your shoulder and land comfortably on your thigh. 

"Such a smart girl," she whispered sultrily into the shell of your ear, squeezing generous flesh between her fingers. 

With a scrambled brain, there was little fight to be put up against the meek whimper that crackled against the constricted lining of your throat. Subconsciously, your thighs tensed, and your pussy fluttered as you were reminded how close Emily's hand was to where you could only dream she'd touch. 

You'd thought you imagined it—the subtle shift in the room from breezy and light to torrid and all-consuming, but with Emily's fingers veering off course, inching higher and higher, reality came crashing down. 

"Thank you," you struggled to get the words out, and when they did come out, they were tremulous and feeble. 

Turning to look at her may have, in hindsight, been a mistake because where her gaze should have been fixed on the laptop screen, it was glued to your lips. Unexpectedly, your stomach flipped, and you felt dizzy. She was still superbly perfect up close, skin smooth like silk, cheekbones sharp as a razor, and lips cut from velvet. It was too close, dangerously so, you had to look away. Outside the window, you spotted a swarm of birds barely visible against the night sky. You ignored the clanking of your heart as you focussed on their synchronicity, watching them circle each other until they became one big blur of messy movements. 

The hand resting on the leather backing of your chair rose, skirting up and over your neck, until a firm grip was established around your dangling ponytail. She was gentle when she tugged, aware that though she wanted to educate you in the art of being owned, you were delicate.

"I think a pretty thing like you deserves a reward," she baited. "Don't you?" 

Her grip on you may have been physical. However, a stronger pull was coming from deep within you, an unimportant piece of scrap metal drawn in by a powerful magnet. It was useless to deny her. The mesmerising glow of her chocolate eyes and the promise of being made to feel special was too powerful. So, you nodded slowly but eagerly, desire painting your eyes dark shades of lust. 

"That's a good girl." 

Emily didn't miss how you preened at the praise and safely stored that information away for further use. She shifted to your side, hands migrating to the small of your waist, guiding you to your feet. The act of it was far gentler than you'd expected, like a gentleman asking a maiden to dance, sweeping her off her feet to whisk her away into a fairytale land filled with magic and romance. 

Certain the benign treatment would be short-lived, you granted yourself the leniency to enjoy it whilst it lasted, refusing to get too caught up in the dull ache between your legs that craved the form of savagery Emily displayed in the field. 

There was nothing short of passion in how she worked. It drove you crazy. As wrong as it felt, you couldn't help but envy the dirtbag the team was working to catch because you saw how badly the brunette wanted them. The look in her eyes, gratification and disgust all at once, when she'd achieved what she set out to do and was staring the devil right in the face - it made your heart race, your palms sweat and your cunt throb. 

The memory kickstarted what could only be described as a brutal attack upon the older woman's lips. To her credit, Emily indulged the outburst for a lot longer than you'd have thought. As if she'd expected it, she quickly responded, pulling you into her body and tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss. The lead was stolen promptly from your grasp when Emily wedged a leg between your thighs, backed you up against her desk and tactically slid her tongue into your gaped mouth. You would have gasped if not for the fact you were immediately indulged in the minty taste of your boss's tongue skirting over the roof of your mouth. So much so that you scarcely noticed the pressure coming from your core was no longer just a phantom need manifested but taut clothed muscle pressing you further and further into the sharp wooden edge of the desk. 

"Emily," you breathily moaned, pulling back and separating your kiss-swollen lips from the brunette's. Ordinarily, you wouldn't have allowed what happened next to occur, but this was Emily, after all, the BAU section chief, and if you were to let anyone order you about, it would be her. 

She backed away from you with a final nip to your bottom lip, letting it go with a pop, and you fought the urge to reach out and pull her back to you. You knew you'd already tried to take things into your own hands once, and doing so again may undermine any chances you had of keeping the ball rolling on tonight's affairs. 

You could feel the tight pull of your ponytail and all the places where hair had been lead array from the confines of your hairband, and it truly dawned on you how out of sorts you must have appeared. Tracing your fingers over your lips, you could make out how swollen they were - puffy and hot, yet desperate and pouted, begging for more. Your breathing was laboured, filling the room's silence, and your shirt suddenly felt too tight as your chest expanded with each intake of oxygen. It almost came as a relief when Emily opened her mouth to finally speak until you heard what she'd said.

"Take your clothes off," she mindlessly ordered, walking around to her chair and sitting back in it. Her eager eyes trained over your body with the faintest shimmer of mirth. 

Initially, it was a shock. Of course, it was. You were in an official government building, personnel still sparsely spread throughout, and a goddess of a woman was asking you to bare yourself to her. 

For the longest time, revealing your body to someone always felt like giving up something. Perhaps some kind of purity. The moment you gave it up, it bred only guilt and shame that twisted and pulled at the pit of your stomach until you felt sick. You stood there, waiting for that feeling to come. It never did. 

Remaining still, your body pulsed not with nerves but with exhilaration and anticipation. It took a few seconds to realise this was precisely what you wanted. You wanted to give this false sense of purity away. There was not a sudden influx of courage soaring through every living cell of your body. However, there was enough for you to put on a front and do as you were told. 

"Slowly." Emily sat further back and placed her elbows neatly over the arms of her chair. She laced her fingers together, offered you an encouraging nod, and then was back to watching you raptly.

Feeling like a glutton, you followed a path of desire and heeded Emily's request, fingers increasingly fumbling over each button of your shirt. 

"So obedient." And in no way was it said negatively; the adulatory smile she gave you only sought to prove that further. 

The way she looked at you made you feel as though you were already naked. Maybe that was why it was so easy to get lost in the subtlety of undressing. It was art, and you were a performer. That's what you told yourself. And for the most part, it worked. 

With closed eyes, you trailed your fingers over your shoulders, letting your shirt drop to the floor. The AC raised goosebumps over your chest, pebbled your nipples under your plain bra, and you smiled. You smiled because this was the most alive you had felt in months. The thrill of moving on to your slacks and deftly unclasping your belt felt like being on a rollercoaster, like missing a step and laughing fear in the face afterwards. You felt utterly fearless. 

In the back of your mind, you could sense Emily's eyes still on you. You could hear her moving around but didn't think to check her reaction. You were in your element, and far be it for a look of appraisal, or lack of, to stop you. That was until your trousers hit the carpet with a soft thud, and a sharp breath was heard from across you. 

Your eyes snapped open, and you found Emily's smile was absent. The brunette now had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looked you up and down, knuckles white from her deadly grip over the armrests. 

She lifted a hand, palm facing the ceiling as her index and middle finger crooked. "Come here so I can get a proper look at you," she said, slightly breathless. 

The desk had conveniently covered the lower half of Emily's body, which meant that when you circled around and came to stand next to her, you could see exactly what the earlier ruffling had been about. 

"Is that?" You froze, both shocked and utterly intrigued by the thick black dildo jutting out from the older woman's opened slacks. 

She didn't need you to finish the question, already nodding as she followed your line of sight. Leaning forward with an outstretched arm, Emily coiled her fingers around your wrist and pulled you forward, causing you to almost stumble over your own feet. At this closer distance, you could tell the faux cock would give you a run for your money. It was thicker than anything you had taken before, though that was not a hard trophy to earn, given that the most you had let anyone put inside you was three fingers. 

"Do you want to come sit on mommy's lap?" Emily asked with a tilt of her head. 

She didn't miss how your breath caught in your throat, how you seemed to stop blinking, stop moving, stop existing.

"Are you scared?" the lioness asked, sights set on her prized fawn. 

You shook your head and placed one foot in front of the other, eyes downcast as you took in the size of Emily's additional appendage. The shake of your jaw gave you away. 

"I don't like being lied to," she snapped, eyes dimming to an even darker shade of brown. 

She pulled you in by your waist and sat you on her lap, cock brushing over the thin material of your underwear. Instinctively, you wedged your bottom lip between your teeth to quiet yourself. But Emily wasn't having any of it. Her thumb came to your captive lip, where she helped release it with a soft flick. 

The smooth texture of Emily's cock through your sodden panties was a needed relief. Its head purposefully pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves evoked a flurry of shivers to run down your spine. And with nothing holding you back, you moaned in gratitude. 

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Emily smirked, watching you rut against her. 

"Yes," you uttered, breath caught in your throat. 

Happy to watch, Emily relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, enjoying the show you were putting on for her. Only when she recognised the tell-tell signs of frustration wash over your features, from your creased brow to the bite of your lip between your teeth, did a sick smirk lick the edges of her lips. With a mischievous glint shining in her eyes, the older woman shifted her position, pointedly ignoring the sound it pulled from you. 

"Something wrong?" she asked with a hitch of one eyebrow, adamant to appear oblivious. 

You gave no reply, only held tight to her shoulders in defiance and continually ground down on her, trying so hard to pleasure yourself to no avail that your eyes began to sting with the emergence of tears. 

With sweat threatening to spill down the side of your face, the tension between your legs starting to ache, and your release nowhere near in sight, you threw your head back with a sigh and whispered a quiet 'please' to the ceiling.

"Please what?" Came the dull reply, tone bored, unamused, unimpressed.  

You tried to impale yourself, failing as strong hands held you down. It was driving you crazy—pleasure being so close yet so far. 

With one hand removed from your hip, Emily gripped your jaw and turned your attention solely to her stern gaze, "Are you going to stop being a brat and tell me what you want?" 

When no answer came, she let go, jerking your head back as if disgusted with the lack of compliance. 

"Get up." 

Ice, you were made of ice. Sat still, shocked, speechless and slightly mortified. 

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Emily's voice was no longer flat; it was not roaring either. Instead, it was layered, resembling the same barbed tone a teacher might use with a disobedient student. It was enough of a motivator to get you to rise to your feet. 

Following you closely, the older woman, too, rose to her full height, hands meticulously reaching behind your back to expertly relieve you of your bra. Never once did she look you in the eye. 

With the same callous approach, you were turned and pressed against the desk, papers sticking to your heated chest. Emily was quick to loop her fingers through the hem of your underwear and slip them down your thighs, allowing gravity to do the rest. 

The full-bodied presence behind you lessened, and you took it as the opportune moment to glance back. 

The brunette had let her trousers drop to the floor, allowing you to see how her porcelain skin was directly contrasted by the black leather of her strap-on. Unlike yourself, she did not appear nervous or afraid. As she kicked the tailored pants aside and met your gaze, you realised how in control she was. 

Her gaze moved down your body, hands running down your back, until finally, she pressed herself against you and lowered her body atop yours. 

"I can feel how wet you are," she teased, running two fingers through the mess between your legs. "Are you always this wet?" 

"Emily, please," you begged. 

"I asked before, please what?" She raked five fingers down your side, moving them back up till they wound tightly in your hair and gripped your neck to an uncomfortable arch. Two fingers pushed inside you but did no more than that, remaining still as stone. "If you're going to be a baby and refuse to tell me what you want, you'll get nothing." 

"Fuck me!" You no longer had the sound of mind to acknowledge shouting something vulgar could attract attention. Logic had evaded you, allowing you to play right into your boss's hands. "Please just fuck me."

Sliding her slick fingers out of you, she proudly stated, "That wasn't hard, was it?"

If the older woman wanted an answer, she did not allow for one. In one fluid motion, she rose from over you and snapped her hips forward, sheathing the entire length of her cock into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, resulting in a strained groan tumbling out of your open mouth. The pit of your stomach dropped, and try as you might have not to clench around the toy inside you, you did precisely that. 

It was new, the foreign feeling of being filled so fully that one slight move would summon pleasure that sent shivers through your whole body. It wasn't unwelcome, especially when Emily started to move, and heat engulfed your entire body. Her pace was languid, allowing you to feel each slide of her cock along your slick walls, how each push of her hips ended in the tip hitting the spot within you to cause the furling in your stomach to expand tenfold. It was all you could do not to scream when the push and pull and Emily's hips moved with more purpose, jerking your body into the edge of her desk. 

"I've barely started, and you're already dripping down your thighs." Her voice was laced with mirth, finger smearing your mess as if to prove an unnecessary point that had your cheeks burning up. "How long have you been thinking about this?" Emily finished her question with an arduous thrust. "How many times have you sunk your fingers into your pussy and thought of me?" 

The questions continued, each hitting the nail right on the head. Your cheeks were scorched with the embarrassment that comes with having your desires known and exposed, but it did not take hold of your conscience as the event of falling in front of a large crowd might have. It was comparable to how a blushing maiden may feel when caught by a suitor in only their undergarments. It excited that small part of you that gave in to demoralisation and encouraged you enough to meet Emily halfway as she thrust into you. 

As your pleasure mounted, the need for more grew. Your clit, swollen and needy, begged for relief, and you beckoned to its call, sliding one hand from above your head to the juncture between your legs. It was when the tips of your fingers brushed against your sensitive pearl and you gained the briefest taste of the euphoria that Emily removed her hand from your thigh and snatched your hand away, halting all movement. 

You could have cried, having everything, then nothing, so quickly. 

"Did I say you could do that?" 

Abruptly pulling out, Emily stood tall and proud, staring down at you with curiosity and disappointment lining the brown of her eyes. She heard you whimper and acknowledged your sniffle. 

"There's no need to cry," she tutted, flipping you onto your back and lifting you by your shoulders. "You're going to listen to me from now on." 

You nodded, and she once again lined her cock to your opening, only now she waited, taunting you with possibilities. 

"Beg," she instructed. 

And you heeded. 

"Please. I need you." 

"You can do better." She sounded bored, and this struck a nerve within you, one that begged you to impress her, show her you could be a good little girl, and beg as though your life depended on it. 

You took a heaving breath and looked into Emily's eyes, sporting your best puppy eyes. "I need you. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your big cock, mommy. Make me scream out your name. I need it." 

"There's a good pet," she cooed, mesmerising you with the bating of her lashes as she looked down to where your bodies were so close to touching. 

It all happened in a blur. The next thing you knew, your nails were digging into muscled shoulders, legs wrapping around a slim waist as the brunette filled you, wasting no time in picking up a brutal tempo. You barely recognised the sound of your voice as high-pitched obscenities spilt past your lips. You felt your whole body light up, heard blood pulse in your ears, and saw in real-time just how easy it was to aid Emily in calling upon your impending orgasm. 

Your vulgar mouth, luckily, seemed to amuse Emily enough for her to let you continue rutting your hips against her. The corners of her lips curled, and her smirk lasted only so long for you to see before she inched forward and kissed you with passion and hunger. It was easy, so easy, to melt into the brief moment of intimacy. The butterflies felt tangible, and the sparks crackled in your ears; it felt so fucking good you'd almost forgotten just where you were. Of course, bubbles eventually popped, and this one was demolished by rustling outside Emily's office. 

What little movement Emily allowed, her hands holding you firmly against the desk by your waist, was not enough to wriggle free and glance behind to see what was happening. Instead, the possibility of being caught weighed heavier with each drawled-out second. 

"Emily," You tried but were cut off by a tongue sliding into your mouth. "Emily, stop."

With a bite to your lip, the older woman backed off, confusion marking her features, "What is it?" she punctuated her question with a hard thrust. 

"Someone's o-" another hard thrust. "Someone's outside."

Emily smiled, picking up her pace, forcing you to breathe so deep you felt your lungs expand. 

"You'd better be quiet then." 

Whatever protest you were about to give died in your throat when nails skirted up to your chest and dug painfully into your breast, and Emily pushed herself so deep within you that you felt her hitting your cervix. A strangled cry was briefly heard before you managed to clasp your hand over your lips and silence your own mewls. She was fucking you as if her life depended on getting a reaction out of you that would draw attention. Nevertheless, you held firm and stayed as quiet as your muffled sobs would allow you to be. 

"Emily, please," you were pleading for release and for the brutal fucking stop because you knew there would be no chance you could keep a lid on your volume; there would also be no chance you would survive not cumming. 

Taking note of this, the older woman took the route of giving you your release, dragging a thumb down over your clit and applying the right amount of pressure to have your tense legs turn into a shaky mess of tremors. She didn't stop there; with a brief slide, she ran your slick over your bundle of nerves and started to circle steadily. 

"Fuck!" You screamed out, missing the way the ruffling outside suddenly stopped. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming." 

"That's it," the brunette encouraged, her fingers coming up to crook and tangle through the mussed mess of your hair, nails slowly working against your scalp. "Let everyone hear what a slut you are, letting me fuck you over my desk." 

She didn't stop, though, not when your clit felt raw and your pussy tender, not when you begged and not even when you reached out and tried to grab her wrist. Emily only yanked you down by your hair, relishing the thud the brutal move made. She fucked you harder till stationary fell to the floor from your thrashing arms, and by then, her lips were already wrapped around a nipple, sucking firm whilst you cried through a second orgasm. 

When you finally felt empty, you didn't even try to open your eyes. You knew your vision would be blurred if not blacked out. Instead, you focussed on coming back down to earth, steading your breath and not thinking about how you strangely missed being filled by Emily despite being so fucking sore. 

"Are you still alive?" a smug voice asked from above, and you pried your bleary eyes open to weakly smile. 

"I think so," you whispered, peeling your sweat-slick back from the desk. That was when you remembered the unknown personnel outside and shot a look at the door. 

"They're gone," Emily said, cupping your chin and turning you back to her. Again, you were greeted by that conniving smirk. "After your commentary, I think they understood we didn't want to be disturbed." 

"But-" 

"Uh-uh." she silenced you with a finger to your lips, the smell of yourself still narrowly fragrant. You took the digit into your mouth, patting yourself on the back as you watched Emily's eyes turn dark. "You want to make Mommy feel good now, don't you?" She knew the answer, but oh, how she loved to watch you sink to your knees and eagerly nod anyway. You helped unclasp the straps of her harness, then set to pealing the last barrier keeping you from her heat down her legs. 

"My good little pet," she said, smiling down at you and happily watching you beam. Her hand cupped your jaw before moving to the back of your neck, where she pulled you to her core and began singing a melody of moans. 

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[h4sanz]

scared that I truly am unlovable

[h4sanz]

working on a pt. 2 rn!

obey me! visuals - pt. 1

characters: demon brothers

warnings: f!reader, penetration, oral (both giving and recieving), impact play, exhibitionism, degredation, bdsm, filming, name calling, orgasm control

a/n: rlly horny rn and wanted to share my thoughts bc i’m always right /j

LUCIFER

link — he can’t wait any longer. lucifer had gone long enough without you, his favorite human. the first thing he does when you get to his room is toss you onto the bed and rip every single article of clothing off of you. he pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow, whispering how much he missed you and your little cunt while you were away in the human world. “my sweet little thing, missed you and your pretty cunt so fuckin’ much. now you’re gonna be good and let me use you for as long as i want, okay?”

link — fucking into you and ferociously rubbing your clit on the couch while his brothers are home.. he needs to make sure you know who you belong to. curses hit your ears as he raves about how you need to be quiet, but hits that spot that he knows makes you cry out every time. “you must really want them to hear you, huh? i knew you were a slut, but i didn’t think you’d be this pathetic.”

MAMMON

link — one thing about mammon, is that he loves being able to show off that you’re his. he absolutely loves to record you: the way you ride him and shout for him. he can’t help but rut into you when you moan his name so prettily. “fuck, yer’ perfect. that’s right, keep bouncin’ on my cock like that.”

link - he absolutely loves making love to you in this position, sucking your tits into his mouth as you grind on him. his hips will stutter when you praise him, telling him how he’s such a good boy and doing so good. he’ll whine into your lips as he kisses you passionately, you running your hands through his hair and softly tugging. “i’m your go—fuck, your good boy. love you s’much.”

LEVIATHAN

link - he will be an absolute mess. every time he dies in game and you let go of him, tears start spewing from his eyes as he cries and begs for you to touch him again. once he finally wins a game, he’ll make a huge mess on himself, overstimulation making him buck his hips up into your hand. his head falls back onto your shoulder, panting heavily. “please, let me c–cum, mc. i’ll be so, s’good for you.” “t–too much! can’t take ‘nymore,” he’ll cry out with red, puffy eyes.

link - he fucks into you with all of his might on the days his envy gets the best of him, especially when one of his brothers blatantly flirts with you to mess with him. he’ll talk down on them as he slaps your face, then moving to hold onto your throat, softly squeezing. he grips your waist so tight there’ll be bruises on your skin for days. “those fuckin’ normies. always doing shit to piss me off, even messing with my baby. you must be a major slut to let them, huh? i know you saw them looking you up and down; when you noticed i saw how you perked up, actin’ all sexy for them.”

SATAN

link - he loves making you ride him before fucking up into you instead. he understands your stamina is nowhere near close to his, but you can’t even ride him properly? and it’s only been 3 rounds! he either has to be gripping a leash he’s attatched to your collar or forcefully holding you, whether it be your neck, wrists, hips, etc. and the way you moan so beautifully when he slaps your face and body has him enthralled. needless to say, you’re lucky if he ends at just round number 4.

link - this is when he’s feeling more intimate. he tends to get really touchy when he’s needy, caressing and gripping your body, sliding his thumb into your mouth whilst whispering about how you’re made for him and such a good kitty. he’ll call you absolutely pathetic for how desperate you are for his touch, whoring yourself out just for him and no one else.

ASMODEUS

link - this is his favorite thing ever. please force him to stare at himself as he makes the most vulgar faces and sounds for you. make him watch the way your fingers perfectly wrap around his pretty cock and jerk him off, hand gliding up and down with fervor. then call him a little whore right in his ear for coming so easily to the sight of himself. “oh, what a little slut you are. coming that easily?” “please, please let me come again! feels so good!”

link - you saw this coming the moment he asked you to meet him in his bathroom. pleasuring his human whilst also bathing them, sign him up! he’ll read out comments, sometimes copying what they say with him own ministrations. “oooh, this person wants me to edge you today. shall i, my pretty?”

BEELZEBUB

link - this man has an oral fixation, he always needs to be sucking on something. so what better thing than your tits? it makes you feel good, so why the hell not. cowgirl is 100% his favorite position ever because he gets to watch your face as you ride him and as he occasionally nibbles on your nipples, causing a cute little whine to fall from your lips.

link - is he hungry? yes. but he also always craves you. one second he’s asking if you could make him something to eat, and the next he’s right up behind you, pulling your pants down to begin thrusting into you. he’ll be sucking along your neck as you try to focus on making his food, to no prevail. “b-beel! hold on a min– fuck! a minute.” “i can’t wait mc.. i need you right now.”

BELPHEGOR

link - his pathetic moans are all that can be heard as he trys to fuck up into you. he’s trying, and you can’t deny that. but you end up taking matters into your own hands, beginning to grind up and down. however, the position makes it almost impossible to stay focused on your task, the tip of his cock pressing right into that spot deep inside of you. “oh, please don’t stop, you feel so good, mc.”

link - his mind is blank. the feeling of you wrapped around him as he’s on the brink of exhaustion is overwhelming. he feels way too good to fall asleep but he feels if you continue this much longer, he might just pass out. he’s come twice already. the sensitive boy just wants you to keep going but his brain is too empty to make out words :(

© h4sanz 2024

[h4sanz]

thinking about suguru and satoru eating your pussy at the same time heje

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine them both between your thighs, staring hungrily at your dripping pussy before gojo breaks the ice and thumbs at your already sensitive clit

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine geto soothing your little trembles by gently stroking your thigh, maybe even giving it a few kisses of encouragement <//3

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine both of the men using one strong hand to push your plush thighs open, exposing yourself even more to them. if you dared try to shut your thighs even a tad they’d be pushed right back open, along with a quick slap the soft skin curtesy of geto

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine the two friends bickering for a moment before geto finally caves and lets gojo have the first taste

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine gojo wasting no time spitting on your clit before wrapping his lips around it, tongue immediately caressing your sensitive nub. he couldn’t decide between roughly sucking on the poor thing or moving his tongue side to side sooo he settles on both! he hollowed his cheeks, holding your clit in place while his tongue continued moving with vigor

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine geto sucking on the soft skin of your thighs while his hand finds purchase on your bare breast, squeezing roughly every once in a while to keep you on your toes

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine geto slowly kissing his way towards your center before nudging gojo’s head with his own, giving the man a cheeky smile

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 imagine both men looking up at you before—

“a-ah!!! oh my-” your back suddenly arched off the bed as you felt not one, but two hot tongues on your clit. one slowly moving up and down, like they were trying to savor the taste of your essence—not too hard or too fast….just sensual. the other tongue on the other hand settled on quick, harsh licks sooo basically the exact opposite.

“s’good right ?” gojo slurred into your pussy, now sloppily kissing his way down to your dripping hole. geto took this as an opportunity to cup your entire clit in his mouth, while his tongue drew soft circles around the nub. geto hummed around your clit, spit dribbling from his lips from the sloppy kisses he was giving your weeping pussy.

all it took was gojo shoving his tongue in your pussy for your back to arch slightly off the bed as you came with a loud, pathetic whine. gojo moaned just as loud when he felt your cum began to coat his tongue in little waves.

geto pulled away from your clit with an obnoxious pop! dark eyes admiring at the mess your pussy has already become. “lemme get a taste,” he mumbled, leaning his head down to lick a slow strip up your pussy. but one lick was not enough! and it wasn’t long before gojo got a little jealous and smacked geto on the back of his head, a small grunt leaving him.

“‘fuck was that for?” geto hissed, but gojo didn’t even bother glancing at him, his attention focused solely on your soaked center. his long fingers ran slowly up and down your petal soft slit, occasionally applying light pressure to your clit. without warning he plunged two fingers in with a lewd squelching sound following, “we’re supposed to be sharing don’t be so greedy, now let’s make her cum again.”

“j-just be gentle m’still a little— hah! sensitiveeee,” your request fell on deaf ears as both mens tongues were on your clit once again. they went from synchronized licks, to each giving your clit an open mouth kiss, to taking turns slapping your pussy.

you tried to keep your eyes on them but you could only handle so much before you head fell back against your bed, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “m’gonna put my fingers in sweet thing,” geto mumbled into your thigh, giving it a sweet kiss before plunging two fingers inside you. getos fingers began doing a scissoring motion, and to help you avoid the stinging stretch gojo sucked your throbbing clit in his mouth.

“i’m gonna cu-cum againnn, you’re gonna make me—” your body tensed as another orgasm washed over you, a much pleasing sight for the two men before you. “fuck she’s squeezing me real fucking tight, ease up yeah? gonna make it real hard for gojo to put his in too,” geto growled, curling his fingers in the most delicious way possible.

you whined something along the lines of ‘i’m tryinggg’ and gojo could’ve just ate you up the way you were being so cute. “hehe she’s so cute the way she’s trying to keep it together, just let go baby we’re right here to catch you,” gojo giggled menacingly, his two fingers slowly prodding at your entrance.

“don’t forget to go slow, don’t wanna hurt the poor thing now,” geto patted your thigh before giving it a sharp swat.

it took a little time to get you used to the stretch of four fingers inside your tight little pussy, but you managed like the good girl you were for them. “oh my fuckin’…” your mouth dropped as both men began to move their fingers at a semi-fast synchronized pace, digits bumping against that special that had your toes curling.

geto eyed your lonely breast and brought his free hand up to tweak at your nipple, gojo following suit. there was so much going on and your poor little brain could only handle so much before you were spluttering out nonsense making the two men chuckle.

“look at how wet she is….dripping all over the fucking bed,” geto groaned, pushing his aching erection against the edge of your bed. anything to find a little relief he’s only human. “she’s squeezing so tight i think she’s gonna cum again!” gojo moved his hand from your nipple to your clit, rubbing tight little circles that had your thighs trembling.

you weren’t able to give them a verbal warning of intense orgasm, the only signal being being the clear stream of cum shooting from your pussy each time they pulled their fingers out. “catch some, but don’t swallow,” geto grunted, shoving gojos head down to catch some of your squirt in his already watering mouth.

once you were done they both slowly pulled their fingers out, a small whine leaving your lips from the emptiness. geto turned to gojo, his breathing uneven. “you know what to do,” he nodded his head towards you and gojo quickly understood, slowly crawling up the bed to where you laid, glazed eyes staring up the the ceiling with a fucked out smile on your face.

“open your mouth for him,” geto grunted squeezing the plushness of your thigh. you obliged and slowly opened your mouth, quickly met with the tart, tangy taste of your cum mixed in with a little of gojos spit. geto hummed happily giving your tummy a soft kiss, “that was fun, messy but fun nonetheless.”

the next twenty minutes were spent catering to your every need ofc. gojo having you between his legs, long arms wrapped around your waist while geto gently cleaned the mess up between your thighs. “did so good for us angel, thank you for letting us indulge in you,” gojo smiled, giving your hip a loving squeeze.

they both had raging boners but in this moment it was all about you but hey!! maybe once your rested up you’ll let them put both their dicks in you!! but don’t tell gojo that rn he might bust in his pants the poor thing :((

[h4sanz]

chat.. we got a new smut coming soon.

Tengen has a big cock so he has to ‘train’ you like he did his other three wives. Of course they are gonna help, one of Makio is sucking on your nipple, Suma is sitting on your face, while the Hina is rubbing your clit. While Tengen is trying to get the last two inches in. Suma’s soft thighs muffle the encouraging he is giving you to relax and take it

[h4sanz]

notice anything different? ;)

[h4sanz]

┌───  ·   ·   · ♡  I FELL IN, I’M FALLING, I’M FOR YOU

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ | 𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗒’𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 (๑>◡<๑)

VINNY！！any prns; gf + bi , 9teen

sfw / nsfw blog ! will write any reader… (gn, f, m) , multifandom , not spoiler free. will mark spoiler warnings, though

i do write dark content..(no noncon)..so please be aware and read ALL warnings before reading any of my content

# — 𝗆𝖫𝗂𝗌𝗍 + 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗈／𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗓

・❥・ 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌 . . .

full creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the dividers !

© h4sanz 2024

[h4sanz]

“Dubcon” that’s rape.

Dubcon is dubious consent. Which also called as CNC (consensual non consent).

That mean one put force at someone to have sex and even the other one seems to be helpless, they liked it. They liked the feeling of being helpless and used. They liked the feeling of someone putting force on them. I have CNC/dubcon kink. I know damn well I love being forced into submission, but I don't love rape.

Rape is another thing, far away from CNC or dubcon. Rape was being acted with no consent. There are no desire or pleasure by other person. It was made purely one sided. CNC were enjoyed by all of the people who acted in it. The 'submissive' people in CNC sex aware that they are going to be fucked while rape isn't there in their state of mind. Rape happened without them consenting it. CNC was consented, but not out loud. CNC is actually a thing in BDSM community.

CNC have aftercare, rape doesn't.

If you deepdived about CNC, you'll see how there are differences between rape and CNC.

Even so, people who like CNC, doesn't mean they love rape. Mostly, people who wanted to practice CNC will let their partner acknowledged it and discussed about the limits and safewords. So when they acted in CNC, and the dom passed the limitations and make the sub truly uncomfortable, the safeword will be used and the dom must immediately stopped. This scene will never happens in rape. Rape will just continues to hurt the person, even if they are uncomfortable.

Dubcon/CNC is not equivalent to rape.