#but hes trying to work through normal people feelings and emotions on his own and while its hard to see its necessary....

[ultra-raging-ghost]

Richas is trying to help bad convey his feelings and bads like post-reset social ineptness is showing because hes like "yeah i wanted to have a full day with her because she asked because she was upset" which is so fucking real. actually might need to make a whole separate post about how bad thinks because i understand it really hard

[jewishrat420]

No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.

And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.

And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."

Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.

Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.

For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.

And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.

And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.

But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.

And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.

But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.

Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.

They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.

Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.

"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."

"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."

Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.

"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."

And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.

This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."

He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.

His next words come out without effort, without intent.

"Don't call me that."

He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.

"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"

Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.

"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"

Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.

His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.

"...You know."

Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.

Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.

Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.

"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."

Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.

"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."

Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.

"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"

Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."

Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.

"Yeah?"

Steve hums again.

"What about... sweetheart?"

Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.

"Yeah."

Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.

"Honey?"

Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."

Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"

Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.

"Especially big boy."

Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.

Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.

"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"

Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.

"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."

Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.

His response is overwhelming.

Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.

And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.

He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.

Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.

"You know which one's my favorite?"

Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"

"Look at me."

Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.

It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.

Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.

The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.

"Baby."

Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.

"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.

"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."

This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.

"Think that can be arranged, baby."

[brunchable]

UNDER HIS COMMAND [R 18+]

Steve Rogers × Agent!FReader

Words: 6.2K Warming: Age Gap (reader in early 20s), unprotected piv sex, domineering acts. oral (both receiving), dirty talk, praising. Summary: You drove Steve to his utmost limit, but what is it going to take to get him to calm down? A/N: I rewatched the old Marvel movies and have been feeling feral towards coughCAPT'Ncough. Bon appetitties?

The mission had gone sideways in a way that left Steve Rogers simmering with frustration. He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, a foreign sensation that made his chest tight and his thoughts cloudy. You had gone against his direct orders, putting yourself in danger—again—and it had pushed Steve to his breaking point.

As you stood in your private cabin, both your voices echoing off the walls, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer.

“You had no right to do that, Y/N!” Steve’s voice cut through the air like a blade, sharper and louder than you’d ever heard it.

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you fought back with all your frustration. "I made that call because it was the right thing to do! I was not going to allow those people to die just because you were excessively consumed with following the agenda!

Steve’s fists clenched at his sides, his muscles taut with barely restrained anger. “This isn’t about saving lives—it’s about you ignoring direct orders! You put yourself in danger, and you compromised the entire mission! You can’t just act on impulse and expect everything to work out!”

As he felt feelings he wasn't accustomed to expressing, his normally composed demeanor began to crumble under the strain of mounting aggravation. It frightened him that he could feel his grip weakening. He had never been so furious with you before; the level of intensity was nearly too much to bear.

You stepped closer, refusing to back down. “I thought about it! I knew exactly what I was doing, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat! You’re the one who doesn’t get it! You’re so obsessed with being in control that you can’t stand it when someone else makes a decision!”

“This isn’t about control, Y/N! This is about you thinking you know better than everyone else! You think you’re invincible, but you’re not! One day, your recklessness is going to get you in serious trouble and then what? How are we supposed to deal with that?” Steve’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as the anger threatened to spill over. 

Your eyes narrowed, your voice rising in anger matching his. “You’re the one who’s supposed to trust me! But you don’t! You can’t stand it when things don’t go according to your plan, so you lash out at me like I’m some kind of liability!”

Steve took a step closer, the space between you charged with tension. “I trust you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and watch you throw yourself into danger without a second thought! You didn’t see how close you came, Y/N. You didn’t see what I saw!”

“What you saw?” you shot back, your voice shaking with emotion. “You’re always trying to shield me from things, Steve, but you can’t keep doing that! I’m not a child! I’m your partner, and that means you have to let me make my own choices, even if they scare you!”

As Steve struggled to control the flood of emotions that were about to overflow, his breaths came in short, quick bursts and his palms quivered. 

“You think I’m trying to control you? I’m trying to keep you alive! I’m trying to make sure that you come back, every single time! But you… you don’t think about what that does to me.”

“And what about what it does to me? Every time you go off on some mission, every time you put yourself in danger without thinking about the consequences, do you know what that does to me? Do you?”

Steve’s face twisted with frustration, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “I do know. I know because I feel it too, every time you do something reckless, every time you make a decision that could get you. . .” He couldn’t  say the word, “And it terrifies me, Y/N. It terrifies me because one day, I might not be there to save you.”

Even though he looks angry, worry is visible in his eyes. You tightened your jaw because you were at a loss for words to respond to him.

Steve pivoted and stomped out of the room before you had a chance to reply. He had to escape for a moment to collect himself before he spoke a word he would regret. Heading directly for the woodpile, he stepped outside, his breath coming in quick, angry bursts.

By the time you caught up with him, Steve was already there, his jacket discarded on the ground. He grabbed the axe with a force that sent a jolt of pain through his arm, but he welcomed it. He needed to feel something physical, something tangible to anchor him in the midst of the storm raging inside him.

Without hesitation, he began chopping. The axe came down with a powerful swing, the wood splitting cleanly in half. But it wasn’t enough. The anger was still there, burning hot and fierce in his chest, so he swung again. And again. And again.

These pent-up emotions had been growing for weeks, if not months, and it was evident in every swing. The fear that he would lose you, the frustration that you didn’t seem to understand how much he cared, how much it hurt to see you risking your life time and time again. He was feeling helpless and that his only option was to keep chopping, to redirect his wrath onto something that wouldn't harm you or ruin everything both had built together.

Steve reached for yet another thick log, this one feeling rock-solid and unmoveable. None of that mattered. His muscles tensed as he lifted the axe above his head, and he lowered it with such power that the wood splintered. Although he felt the hit all over, it failed to provide him with the relief he had hoped for. He was being torn apart by the rage that remained dormant, just below the surface.

“So this is it? You’re just going to chop wood until the problem disappears?” Amidst the steady clack of the axe on wood, your irritated, sharp voice sliced through the air.

Steve didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The overwhelming wave of feelings he couldn't articulate washed over him, leaving him unable to speak. He swung the axe again, harder this time, as if he could somehow chop away everything he felt.

But then, a switch went off in his brain. That axe wasn't cutting it. He needed more—he needed to break something with his own hands, to feel the physical release of the anger that was consuming him.

He snatched up yet another log, this one heavier and thicker than the rest. His hands, still trembling with fury, gripped the log tightly. His muscles bulged as he poured all his anger, all his frustration, into his grip.

“Steve, talk to me! You can’t just—”

But before you could finish, Steve let out a low, guttural roar and pulled at the log with all his might. The wood resisted at first, but Steve was relentless. His biceps strained, his veins standing out against his skin, and with a deafening crack, the log gave way. He tore it in half with his bare hands, the wood splintering under the sheer force of his strength.

The pieces fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the sound almost drowned out by the ringing in your ears. You stood there, frozen, your breath caught in your throat as you watched Steve’s display of raw power. It was terrifying—seeing him so close to the edge, so consumed by anger—but it was also something else, something that sent a shiver down your spine.

You were genuinely scared by his actions just now. The shock that he could lose control, that he could be so driven by his feelings, was a stark reminder of how much he cared, how deeply he felt. But alongside that shock was a rush of something primal, something that made your pulse quicken and your cheeks flush.

You shouldn’t have found it attractive—this display of strength—but you did. Seeing Steve like this, so powerful, so intense—he never bragged about his power, and it stirred something inside you that you couldn’t deny. Your body reacts before your mind could catch up, a rush of heat flooding your senses.

Steve turned to face you, his chest still heaving, his eyes blazing. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?” His voice was rough, almost broken. “That I’m okay with you going off on your own and putting yourself so close to death? Because I’m not!”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You could see the chaos in his eyes. It made your heart ache. To him it didn’t matter if you were one of the best agents out there because he knew how life is so fragile, he knew because he's been around for ages—you forget that sometimes his cellular age is not twenty-seven.

For now, both of you stood there, the tension thick and suffocating, wrapping around you like an iron vice.

You took a shaky breath, the sound of it almost deafening in the quiet that had fallen between you. You knew you should say something, anything, to defuse the situation. But your throat felt tight, and the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to reconcile the man you love with the fury that had just been unleashed.

Steve’s chest heaved with each breath, his fists still clenched at his sides. He didn't know how to come down from the brink he'd been driven to, didn’t know how to deal with the mix of relief and frustration that you were standing in front of him, unharmed but defiant. 

His mind raced with the images of what could have happened, what might have happened if he hadn’t been there to pull you out of the fire. The thought was enough to make his vision blur with a fresh wave of anger and fear.

“I can’t lose you, Y/N,” Steve finally managed to say, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “Do you understand that? I can’t. I don’t know what I’d do if something happens to you.” 

Your breath hitched, your heart hurt at the openness in his voice, and the urgent plea cut through your barriers. You knew how much he cared—how deeply he felt everything—but hearing it, seeing it in the way his hands shook, in the way his eyes were filled with unshed tears, made it impossible to stay mad.

Driven by a surge of emotion you couldn't contain, you briskly walked towards him. Steve kept his gaze glued onto you, anticipating your next move. In an instant, you closed the distance between you, your body moving on instinct alone. 

You leaped up, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, your hands fisting in his hair as you pulled him down into a kiss that was searing, desperate, and filled with every ounce of the fire that had fueled the argument.

His kiss was intoxicating. You pressed yourself against him, your body molding to his as you deepened the kiss, your mouth moving against his lips with a fervor.

You could feel the tension in his muscles, the heat radiating from his skin, and it only made you want him more, made you kiss him harder, as if you could imprint yourself on him, claim him in a way that left no room for doubt.

Steve's grip on you was bruising as his hands found your hips, pulling you even closer, his own body responding to the intensity of the moment. He angled his head, deepening the kiss further, your tongues clashing in a dance that was as much about dominance as it was about the overwhelming need to feel connected.

You let out a soft moan, the sound vibrating between you, spurring you both on. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you couldn't get enough. You shifted against him, your hips pressing into his, feeling the undeniable evidence of his desire for you, and it sent a jolt of heat through your entire body.

When you finally broke apart, it wasn't because you wanted to, but because you both had to breathe. Your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling, both of them trembling from the force of what had just happened. 

Your breathing was ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked into Steve's eyes, blue like the ocean but filled with fire. The air between you crackled with an electric tension, the heat of your shared desire still burning hot.

“I’m still mad at you. Chopping wood was not enough,” Steve whispered his voice rough, “I hope you're prepared for that.”

“Try me.” You replied breathily against his lips. 

Steve didn't need any more encouragement.

When he reached the back-door, he didn’t hesitate. With a powerful kick, he busted it open, the door slamming against the wall with a force that echoed through the room and shook walls.

Steve's hands gripped you firmly as he turned, pinning you against the nearest wall, his body pressing onto yours, the solid weight of him making you gasp. His mouth found yours again, and the kiss, filled with intensity that left you both dizzy, desperate for more.

You could feel the way his body responded to your every touch, every kiss. Your hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the hard muscle, needing to hold on, to anchor yourself against the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

Steve's grip on you tightened, his hands sliding from your hips to your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer. He pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his breath hot against your skin, making you shiver. The sensation sent a wave of heat rushing through you, igniting every nerve in your body.

“Y/N…” Steve's voice was low, a rough whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. You could feel the restrained tension in him, the way his body was coiled like a spring, ready to snap. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

Shit. He swore. Now you know you're in deep trouble—and it excites you. You tightened your legs around his waist, leaning into him as you captured his lips once more, this time with even more intensity, more urgency.

Steve responded immediately, his mouth moving against yours in a kiss that was possessive. His hands roamed over your back, his touch firm, grounding you as you lost yourself in the taste of him. His touch ignited a trail of fire everywhere.

He pushes the hem of your shirt above your head and pulls off your black tee shirt, tossing it aside like it was nothing, exposing your bare breast, then his mouth devours you. He suckles and licks urgently, opening his mouth wider to envelop nearly your whole breast. It’s as if he wants to taste every inch of your skin all at once.

You moaned and arched your back, which thrusts your breast against his face, causing your fleshy mound to squeeze against him and bulge out at the sides. 

His hand, rugged and calloused from years of relentless work, moved with purposeful intent to the other. He gripped your breast firmly and began to knead, applying a rough pressure on your flesh.

You squeeze his shoulders, grasping at the starched cotton of his shirt. It feels manly under your palms. Your mouth drops open when the shape of his hard cock lines up perfectly against you, applying a delicious pressure you desperately need. 

“Oh my—Steve. . .”

Any self-preservation you've been holding on to evaporates at the feel of his hot length, and your hips tilt into him on their own. 

You groan simultaneously at the much-needed friction. His scent, his rough groans, the tight hold of his large hands, the stab of his hot tongue—everything about Steve is strong, hard, domineering, and so deliciously male. 

His mouth leaves your breast whispering into your ear, “Are you going to disobey me again?”

“I can't promise you that I won't.” You try to pull back and drop your legs, but he grips your thighs, holding them open, and presses his bulging cock onto you.

He loved the way you looked, the way you reacted, and he loved everything about you. You were the most precious thing in the world to him. So beautiful, so sweet, so giving and too damn good for him, but he was a selfish bastard and wouldn’t let you go.

Ever.

His breath fans over your neck, and he whispers dangerously. “That so?”

You didn’t notice how you both ended up in the bedroom until he shoved you toward the bed, because you found yourself falling onto it, the descent feeling agonizingly slow.

Your head turned sideways just as it was about to collide with the mattress, but you were too shocked to react, too numb to fight back against what was unfolding.

Steve moved with a swift, commanding presence, leaping onto the bed and straddling your torso with an authority that pinned you down. His shirt was already on the floor when you met his eyes—dark, angry. A side of him you're seeing for the first time in the bedroom.

His muscles are swollen from chopping all that wood and splitting one in half with his hands. His abs were a testament to the discipline and strength he had cultivated over the years. The six-pack was not just defined but chiseled, each muscle distinct and firm beneath the taut skin. 

He pushed your thigh open with his knee, his palm grazing from your stomach, between the valleys of your breasts, stopping at where your collar bone meets the base of your neck. 

All of your focus is on its path, and you quiver when his thumb now brushes the bottom curve of your breast. 

“This is mine.” He twists your nipple, sending shards of electricity tumbling through you, and you buck against him, lust completely taking over all your senses. 

“Yes,” You gasp and roll your hips, willing to say anything he wants to get him to continue touching you, searching for the right position to hit your clit with the head of his cock, desperate for more.

His chuckles tickle the sensitive shell of your ear, and a shiver runs through you as the sharp ridges of his teeth gently close on the soft earlobe. “Such a good girl all of a sudden?”

He drags his hand down your body, exploring it like he’s mapping every inch of you by touch alone. He forces your jeans off, almost ripping it in the process.

His thumb grazes your clit through your underwear, and a pained cry escapes your lips. He craves knowing the sounds you'll make as he drives his cock hard inside you. He'd make you beg for more until you scream out his name as he sear himself into your soul.

“Do you know what good girls get, Y/N?” He slides under the thin fabric and circles the spot you need him the most. “Good girls get to come.” 

“Please,” you beg. Every molecule of your being is focused on his fingers. The weight of the air around you compresses until it’s hard to suck in your next breath. Tension radiates as you wait for what happens next. His touch is the only thing that matters.

He shifts you so he can reach lower, sliding wet fingers through your slit, then circling your entrance. You whimper his name as he sinks two fingers inside you. 

“Look at you, soaked for me. Ready. This pussy knows she’s mine.” His voice is a dark rumble as he pumps his fingers in and out in a slow, torturous rhythm.

“I need more,” you grind out through your teeth.

“Take it. Fuck my fingers,” he orders you against your ear and loosens his hold to allow you to take control. 

You wrap your arm around his neck, leveraging yourself, and grip his hair as you work yourself on his fingers. 

Steve’s breath comes out in hot pants against your jaw, and he bites down on the edge at the same time his palm massages your clit. You forget to breathe as you rock against him, your head buzzing with the lack of oxygen.

“Oh yes, right there.” You gasped.

“That’s my pretty little pussy, fucking herself so well.” He adds another finger, and your world goes blank. All that’s left are his commands. “Come for me.”

Tingles shoot up your spine as your entire body pulls tight, and then your orgasm crashes over you in shuddering waves. “Steve.”

He pumps every last ounce of your release, his hands glistening. “That’s it. Say my name.” 

“Steve,” You say, barely a whisper.

He withdraws his finger then and lifts his hand to your face, pressing his finger against your lips. It’s the same finger that was just inside you. 

“Suck it,” he orders, and you obediently open your mouth, sucking the finger in. You can taste yourself, your own desire, and it makes you even more turned on. 

When he’s satisfied that the fingers are clean, he removes it from your mouth, grasping your chin with his hand instead, forcing you to meet his gaze, “I'm going to ask you again, are you going to disobey me?” 

You stare up at him, mesmerized by the dark blue striations in his irises. Your body is throbbing with need, desperately craving his possession. You want him to take you, to fill the aching emptiness within.

A smile of defiance crept on your lips as you cocked your head forward, “My answer remains that same.” 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.” he warns, voice low, and a tremble runs through you. 

Your instincts are on high alert, but you don’t try to pull away. You swallow hard. “What game?” 

“The one where you act like all has been put aside. That you don’t already know who you pissed off. Or do you need a reminder?” He shifts his grip and circles your neck with his fingers, resting them on your collarbone as a warning. 

Heat pours into your core, and your clit throbs. A low moan escapes you, and his smile turns dark. He pushes closer, bent so his breath fans against your mouth. 

“I’m going to spin you around and fuck your pretty pussy against this bed, I think it’s fair I take out my frustrations on you. I will make you beg so hard, because baby, I can do this all fucking day.” He said with grit. 

Your ears ring, and all your thoughts vanish with his words. You push yourself up, closing the distance between your mouths. He groans deep and takes over the kiss, running his tongue against yours until you're consumed by him. Your head feels light from the lack of oxygen, but you don’t pull away, letting him do whatever he wants to you.

There’s a power that surges inside you, giving in to his control. No matter his threats, you know if you told him to stop, he would. 

He’s not gentle when he flips you on your stomach. His hands fisted at your hips and you heard a snap as he tore your panties away. The abrupt sound and the violent action behind it spurred your desire to a fever pitch. 

You hear him unzip his jeans, and in your attempt to look, he presses your head hard into the mattress. Then, you feel him pulling while he collects all of your hair and wraps it around his hand with the intention of using it as a rein. 

You let out a whimper when Steve tugged harder. You don’t hesitate to move when his foot meets yours and spreads your legs further apart. He grunts in approval and runs his fingers up your slit, before his erection brushed between your legs as he moved and you whimpered, so aching and empty, as if the orgasms he’d given you earlier had only deepened your craving rather than appeased it. 

Then he shifts his hips a little and uses his hand to guide his shaft toward your opening. You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as he begins to push inside. You're extremely wet, but you still feel uncomfortably stretched as he slides in all the way. Steve doesn’t give you time to adjust before withdrawing and slamming in again, his thrust doling out punishment and pleasure.

“Fuck,” he hisses when you squeeze around him, and a sharp slap lands on your ass. “You’re so tight.”

You bite your lower lip, trying to cope with the burning, too-full feeling. You clutch at the bed sheets, needing something to hold on to as the familiar tension starts to gather low in your belly. The head of his cock brushes against that sensitive spot somewhere inside you. You gasp as he pulls your hair harshly making you arch to take him deeper, needing more of that intense sensation, wanting to bring you over the edge.

“Oh my god, Steve, yes,” you cried, finding your face pressed into the mattress again and you could hardly breathe. All you can feel is him: the back-and-forth movement of his thick cock inside your body, the heat emanating from his skin. 

In this position, he goes deep, even deeper than usual, and you can’t help the pained gasps that escape your throat as the head of his cock bumps against your cervix with each thrust of his hips. Yet the discomfort doesn’t seem to prevent the pressure growing inside you again, and you feel climax coming again, your inner muscles clenching helplessly around his shaft.

“Oh no you don't,” He groans harshly, sensing that you're about to come. Then he pulls out. Leaving a void of emptiness that aches. The womanly fluids that leak down your thighs now felt cold, before you could protest, Steve flips you again and your eyes finally get to lay upon his magnificence, his erection at your eye level.

But all he does is look at you, a mocking half-smile playing on his beautiful lips. “You think I’m going to come inside you, Y/N?” he asks softly. “Is that what you’re expecting me to do?”

You blink, startled by the question. Of course you expect him to do that. You did something that upsetted him. Apparently reading the answer on your face, he smiles wider. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not exactly in a generous mood.” 

“Sit up and suck it,” he murmurs, looking down at you.

Aroused by the command, you fluttered your tongue across the underside and shivered with delight when he rewarded you with a hot burst of pre-cum. Fisting the root of him with one hand, you hollow your cheeks and draw rhythmically.

You cup his balls in your other hand and squeeze them lightly. He groans, his eyes closing and his hand fisting your hair, and you continue, moving your mouth up and down on his cock, swallowing him deeper every time.

Your head bobbed as you pleasured him, jacking him with one hand while you sucked and stroked the crest with your mouth. Heavy veins coursed the length of his cock, and you slid the flat of your tongue along them, tilting your head to find and caress each one. 

He swelled, growing thicker and longer.

“Baby, you suck me so good.” He held your head still and took over. Thrusting his hips. Fucking your mouth. Stripped to a level of base need where only the race to orgasm mattered.

You gripped his straining thighs in both hands, frantically working your lips and tongue, desperate for his climax. His balls were heavy and big, an audacious display of his powerful virility. You cupped them, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten and draw up.

“Ah, Y/N.” His voice was a guttural rasp. His grip tightened in your hair. “You’re making me come.” 

The first spurt of semen was so thick, you struggled to swallow. Mindless in his pleasure, Steve was thrusting against the back of your throat, his cock throbbing with every wrenching pulse into your mouth. You eyes watered and your lungs burned, but still you pumped your fists, milking him. His entire body shuddered as you took everything he had. The sounds he made and the muttered, breathless praise were the most gratifying you'd ever heard. 

You licked him clean, keeping eye contact the entire time, marveling at how he didn’t fully soften even after an explosive orgasm. He was still capable of fucking you senseless and more than willing to, you knew. He wasn't kidding when he says he can do it all fucking day.

× × × ×

“OH, God.” Your hands fisted the sheets beneath you, your back arching as Steve pinned your hips to the bed and his lips circled your clit and his cheeks hollowed. Sucking rhythmically, he massaged the hypersensitive knot with the tip of his tongue.

Your skin was coated in a fine sheen of sweat, your vision blurring as your core tightened viciously in preparation for orgasm. Your pulse was thrumming and racing. You've comed twice already, as much from the sight of his blonde head between your legs as from his wickedly gifted mouth. 

“I’m ready.” You pushed your fingers into his hair, feeling the dampness at the roots. His restraint was costing him. You're overstimulated and he's taking the time to make sure you are soft and wet before filling you too full with his long, thick cock.

“I’ll decide when you’re ready.”

“I need you inside me, please. I won’t disobey your orders again.” You pleaded, bucking your hips towards his face.

“You ache without my cock inside you. You’ll say anything to have me there.” Steve crawled toward you like a sleek panther on the prowl.

“Yes.”

He hovered over you, his big body casting a shadow over yours. Tilting his head, he lowered his mouth and lightly traced the seam of your lips with the tip of his tongue. 

“You crave it. You feel empty without it.” 

“Yes, damn you.” You gripped his lean hips, arching upward to try to feel his body against your. You never felt closer to him than when you were making love, and you needed that closeness now, needed to feel like you were okay.

He settled between your legs, his erection lying hard and hot between the lips of your pussy. 

“I need you,” you breathed, rubbing your wet cleft shamelessly along the heated length of his cock.

“Not yet.” He moved, rolling his hips to find you with the broad head of his penis. He pushed gently against you, parting you, spreading you open as he slipped just the tip inside. You writhed against the tight fit, your body begging. 

“Fuck me. God … just fuck me!” 

Steve reached down with one hand and grabbed your hip, stemming your frenzied attempts to push up and take more of him.

You fought his hold. Your nails dug into the tight curves of his ass and you tugged him against you. If you didn’t get him in you, you thought you'd lose your mind. 

“Give it to me!”

Steve slid his hand into your hair, fisting it to hold you where he wanted you. “Look at me.” 

“Steven!” 

“Look at me.”

You stilled at the command in his voice. You stared up at him, your frustration melting as you watched a slow, gradual transformation sweep over his handsome face.

With his eyes still on yours, he reached beside him to claim your wrists. One at a time, he lifted your arms over your head, restraining you. Pinned to the mattress by his grip, his weight, and his unflagging erection.

Steve slowly enters you, penetrating you inch by slow inch. It feels good, so unbelievably good, and you moan again, tightening your inner muscles around his shaft. He groans, closing his eyes, and you do it again, wanting more of the sensation. 

He opens his eyes and stares at you, his face taut with lust and his eyes glittering. You hold his gaze, fascinated by the fierce need you see there.

He began to thrust, stroking through the trembling walls of your cunt with the thickly veined length of his big cock. Claiming you. Possessing you.

You can hear his harsh breathing, and you know that he’s exerting a lot of control over himself, that he probably wants to fuck you harder but is trying not to ‘damage you beyond repair.’ Nevertheless, his movements cause your insides to twist and churn, causing you to cry out with every stroke.

“I love you.” your voice is barely audible, each word feeling like it’s being wrenched out of your very soul.

You can see his pupils dilating while grinding breathlessly, “Tell me again.” 

“I love you.” which came out like a small, helpless sound.

“I love you too.”

Struggling with the grinding urge to rock into the ferocious thrusts of his big cock. He shoved his other hand beneath your hip, cupping your rear and lifting you into his thrusts so that his cock head stroked over and over the spot that ached for him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growled, pounding his hips up at you, yanking your hips up to meet his punishing strokes. 

“Yes, yes! Come inside me.” you yelped, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Steve hit the end of you with every deep thrust, battering into you. You could feel him growing harder and thicker. You watched him avidly, needing to see it when he went over the edge for you. His eyes were wild with his need, losing their focus as his control frayed, his gorgeous face ravaged by the brutal race to climax. 

“Y/N, I'm coming!” He came with an animal sound of feral ecstasy, a snarling release that riveted you with its ferocity. He shook as the orgasm tore into him, his cock jerking as it pumped thick spurts of scorching semen into you.

You climaxed in a rush that had you sobbing his name, your bodies convulsing as the sensation enhanced and magnified by the way he’d controlled your body. 

Steve laid on top of you, waiting for his cock to get soft before he pulled out. Your body remains convulsing under him.

“You’re a machine,” you told him, trying to catch your breath. “Or a god.”

Steve let out a low, breathless chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin as he held you close. He laid beside you, his chest was still heaving from the intensity of what you had just done, but there was a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you. Steve shifted slightly, so he could meet your eyes, his expression softening as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. 

“Maybe,” he murmured, his voice rough and warm from exertion. “But as much as I like the sound of being a god,” he continued, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I think I’d rather just be the man who’s lucky enough to have you in his arms.”

“Just don’t pull a stunt like that on me again and I’ll be fine,” he responded, his tone a mix of lingering concern and affection. But there was still an edge to his voice.

“But it’s against my nature to ignore—” you started, trying to explain yourself, but Steve cut you off, his gaze intense.

“Do I have to impregnate you? For you to think more carefully?” he asked, his voice low and filled with a rough, teasing tone that sent a shiver down your spine. The words were provocative, laced with a mix of frustration and possessiveness that made your breath catch.

Your eyes widened slightly at his bold statement, your heart skipping a beat as the meaning of his words sank in. There was a challenge in his eyes, but also a deep-seated need—a desire to protect you, to keep you safe in a way that was so intensely Steve.

“Is that what it’s going to take?” he continued, his tone softening just a bit, though the intensity in his gaze never wavered. “Because I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re careful out there. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I won’t.”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your mind racing with his words and the seriousness behind them. He wasn’t just teasing; there was a part of him that meant every word. It was possessive, yes, but it was also born from a place of deep love and fear of losing you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

Steve’s expression softened, his eyes searching yours as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“Good,” he murmured against your mouth, his tone still laced with that protective tone. “Because I’m not letting you out of my sight, not if I can help it.”

[dollfacefantasy]

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.

[banj0possum]

All You Need

Yandere! Bodyguard x Gn Reader

CW: obsessive behavior, minor stalking

i changed his name, his old name was doo doo, it was but a trick of the light

IM CHANGING HIS NAME AGAI-

♠️ Never before would you have ever considered hiring a bodyguard, you could defend yourself on your own just fine, but with all your rival manufacturers trying to get you out of the competition with assassinations and attempted kidnappings, you had no choice.

♠️ Feelings were a very rare thing for Baron, and he was fine with it, after all, emotions weren't a very helpful thing to have when your job is to kill people. There was no room for soft, sappy things like that when you lived in his side of the city.

♠️ But his cold and empty demeanor was somehow broken through the moment he saw you.

♠️ The smile you had on your face pierced his heart like cupid's arrow, it was like love at first sight for him.

♠️ He was just getting some rest after a particularly stressful job at a nearby bar when he heard the sweetest laughter from across the room.

♠️ There you were, the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. You were sitting with some other people, talking and drinking together like all the other patrons, but you stood out to him like a precious gem amongst stone.

♠️ It seemed as if the world slowed down when your eyes briefly met his.

♠️ He would now frequent that bar, learning what you like to order, when you get there and who you'd be with.

♠️ He's never talked to you, or even interacted with you in any way, but the feelings he had for you couldn't be denied. You're just too adorable!!

♠️ Through his connections, he found out you were a big name in weapons design. Unique and beautifully deadly instruments of death were created by your hands. Is it weird he finds that hot?

♠️ He'd start off making anonymous orders for weapons to you, it was normal to get one that was unnamed, so you thought nothing of it.

♠️ When he got his order, an intricately designed dagger, he couldn't bring himself to use it on anyone. This is a gift from his kind and talented darling! He couldn't just stab it into someone's chest like any other knife!

♠️ Yes, he has a little shrine of you.

♠️ When he heard you were hiring for a bodyguard, he was ecstatic! Finally, he can be with you for real! He had to stop himself from giggling like a little girl in front of his colleagues.

♠️ He applied for the job and immediately was given instructions to your address, he read it over and over again until it was engraved into his mind.

♠️ "Tomorrow, 5pm. 93 Lebberside Ave. Door with the hummingbird symbol on it in the alley. Do not be late."

♠️ When he arrived at the location, his heart was pounding under his cold expression. He knocked on the door and heard a muffled crash from inside with a small "Shit!" before the sound of multiple clicks of locks followed.

♠️ You pulled the door open and looked up at the man with dark eyes.

♠️ "Are you the applicant?"

♠️ "Y-yes.." God he stuttered, he hoped you couldn't see his flushed face.

♠️ "Good, come in." You pulled him in and swiftly locked the door again.

♠️ He looks around and it looked like a normal home, albeit a little cluttered. Boxes of files and paper were almost everywhere with takeout boxes and noodle cups on every surface of the house. Looks like you've been piled with work for a long time, poor thing, you really need him to take care of you don't you?

♠️ He sits down on the couch across from the little bean bag you were sitting on while reading a file you grabbed from the coffee table, god you're adorable..

♠️ "So you're..?"

♠️ "Baron..Baron Valencia.."

♠️ "Baron..."

♠️ Oh god say his name again please plea-

♠️ "Hm..your file's pretty good..and you don't have any recent dealings with my competitors? Interesting, looks like you have a good eye for quality weaponry huh?" You smile at his file before looking at him with fox eyes. The things he'd let you do to him...

♠️ "I just took a liking to your model's, they're more convenient and useful than others.." He says with a straight face.

♠️ You chuckle and ask him a few more questions before eventually moving on to small talk, he relished in the time you two spent together laughing at past experiences and jokes, it was like he's known you forever, it took every muscle in his body just to stop himself from smiling too much.

♠️ Eventually, you got up and patted his lap, putting down the file. "Well, Mr. Valencia, you're hired!" You say with a smile, the same smile that melted his heart the first time he saw you.

♠️ "Really?! I-I mean- thank you..Boss.."

♠️ He regains his calm composure after letting his voice go a little too high for his liking, any embarrassment he would've had in that situation was replaced with a warm, tingly feeling as you placed a hand on his shoulder, giggling.

♠️ After that, he'd watch you like a hawk, always being by your side ready to protect you, even if you’re just at home. You never know when someone will try to hurt you!

♠️ He'd be looming over you, giving any poor soul trying to talk to you a death stare until you introduced them as friends of yours, he's a giant guard dog basically.

♠️ His stoic expression would persist even when you make small talk with him all the time so casually. It was like he wasn't even your bodyguard sometimes, just a friend you were hanging out with.

♠️ He wasn't all intimidating and cold, he was also very concerned for your health...all the time, and can you blame him? You've been living off of takeout and instant noodles for months!

♠️ "Boss, I think you should eat a proper dinner and not fastfood again, I'll cook for you."

♠️ "Your work can wait, Boss. I'm sure your client can wait another day, please, you look tired."

♠️ It's all part of being your bodyguard! He has to keep you safe and healthy! He'd be happy to move in so he can protect you 24/7 if you'd let him.

♠️ He'd offer to help you clean your living space a little too, since you're so busy and all with work, he might as well make life easier for you. You said yes to get him to stop pestering you about it and when you came back to the living room, all the clutter and empty food containers were gone..as well as a few of your clothes..I guess he put them away as well, how nice of him.

♠️ If you confront him about this, he'd deny it all flushed in between stutters.

♠️ "Well Baron, it sounds to me like you want to be my househusband more than a bodyguard with all your offers for looking after me and such."

♠️ "Wh- Me? N-no! I'd never! I-I mean unless you'd want that..Not that I'm saying I want to! But well uhm- I-if you uh..uhm..I'll leave you alone to work..."

♠️ On days off a.k.a. days you forced him to take a break from taking care of you to get a bit of breathing space for yourself, he'd stalk your social medias or flat out stalk you. A true bodyguard never stops protecting their boss! He just wants to watch over you!

♠️ On the rare occasions that you're too deep in work and not getting a blink of sleep, he'd use his strong arms to pull you into bed and force you to rest. It wasn't long before he heard you softly snoring in his arms, you were exhausted from long days of working and delivering orders and evading taxes and such, no wonder you went out like a light.

♠️ He looked down at you as he sighed lovingly, placing a kiss on your head, whispering a soft "Goodnight, cariño.." Before drifting off to sleep himself.

♠️ "..Goodnight Baron.."

♠️ "B-Boss! Y-you heard that?!"

[dragonsfictavern]

Without Much Spoken

Astarion x gn!Reader

a/n: My first attempt at posting for bg3 and Astarion. But I plan to continue posting many more fics for not only this lil guy, but for a lot of the party! So stick around!

summary: During one night of your groups travels together, Astarion enters the room to find you overwhelmed and crying. Acting before thinking it through, Astarion comforts you.

word count: 1.1k

Walking up the stairs of the Inn their group was staying in for the next couple of days, Astarion opens the door as he normally would, heading to bed after the exhausting day that had finally, at last, ended. He was more than ready to plop into bed and fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep. His only true escape that lasted far few hours.

But as soon as the door creaked open, a small sliver of light shining through, your sobs broke through the silence like a fierce screech. They stopped a moment after, the silence even more heavy and the tension growing thick the longer neither of you speak.

Astarion opens the door, only a bit further. Enough for the light from the hall to catch on your features. Your frozen, having fled to isolation in order to prevent this. To stop anyone from seeing you, to not bother anyone else with the weight of your intensely hyperactive feelings. Especially him. God, you didn’t want to bother him with this.

Astarion was always good for a light joke, a quick quip. He was good at that. At making things feel lighter, even unintentionally making you feel better at times. But that’s not what you wanted right now. You didn’t want to feel better in that way, you didn’t want to attempt to push aside your emotions for another, you didn’t want to just forget about what you felt. You needed to let out what was overwhelming you. What twisted your gut with anxiety, what made it hard to breathe, what sent your body into overdrive, what clouded your mind and made you feel like a complete mess.

You needed it out, and you knew Astarion wasn’t typically the one to go to with that sort of thing. You never held it against him, you cared for him, you may even love him. But you knew he had little to no experience in the ways of comforting someone. Knew he didn’t really know how to do that. So, in an action you convinced herself was selfless, you didn’t confide in him. Didn’t give him the chance to offer whatever type of comfort he possibly could provide.

And Astarion knew it all and more. With his past, he knew how to read people easily. Learning how others think was vital in his line of work, in his everyday life, in his survival… Reading you always seemed a little bit easier for him to do than it was with others. He could see what you were trying to do. The way your body stiffened on the bed, the tears both dried and fresh on your cheeks, the way your hands clenched as if you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

Astarion didn’t feel any particular way about this revelation. He could see your reasoning, your line of thinking and what brought you to the conclusions you ended up at. So he honestly couldn’t explain why he reacted the way he did.

His hand shuts the door, encompassing you both back into darkness without thought. His feet move toward you on their own. Though the darkness surrounds you both, both of your eyes end up adjusting again. You can see the way Astarion stops at the edge of the bed, his form hovering over your curled frame on the bed.

It’s without a word that he slides into bed behind you, his back resting comfortably against the headboard. His legs spread wide, giving you enough space to sit between them. His hands softly curl around you, not trying to overwhelm you even more. One hand around your stomach, feeling the erratic breaths you take as you attempts to hide your cries. The other hand over your heart, feeling its pounding rhythm, both from the mix of emotions that sent you to this state and from him finding you here. He didn’t need to do this, his hearing being able to pick it up well enough on its own. But for some reason he needed the reassurance. That it was all real.

He pulls you into his chest and you don’t hesitate to fall against him, putting your weight on him. He isn’t doing this to prove anything to you. To prove he can comfort you, if you needed him to. No, he isn’t going to make you come to him and he’s not going to make you hide. He doesn’t know why he’s done this. He just… did. Wanted to. It’s all he can grasp onto.

The feeling of him being there was enough, you realize. It had taken so much energy to try and remain still after Astarion found you, but now that he was here and he’s staying, you can’t hold it in any longer. It physically pained you beyond explanation. Sobs broke out of you, the action moving your body with its force. You couldn’t control it.

Astarion just sits there, not saying anything and not really doing anything either. But it’s more than enough. You didn’t realize how being alone had made everything so much worse. You thought that being alone, having nothing around that could possibly add to your array of emotions was what was best for you. But as you two laid together, you noticed the way Astarion didn’t add anything. The way he could actually help in ways everyone else just couldn’t seem to.

Eventually you begin to calm down, your body shaking but your emotions releasing and leaving you. That’s when you feel Astarion’s hand on the back of your head. You jump slightly, but besides that, you don’t dare acknowledge it. His hand gently starts combing through your hair. Then when he reaches the end, he brings it back to the top of your head. You sigh heavily, falling into him further. The peace of the empty silence, the darkness that covers everything, washes over you both. Neither of you seem to want to break it.

You tilt your head ever so slightly, hoping he doesn’t stop. The gesture was doing wonders to help calm you down further. You can barely make out Astarion through the darkness, but you can see enough to tell he’s simply staring ahead. It’s then you realize that he probably hadn’t even noticed what he’s doing to you. How he’s actually comforting you. It sends waves of pleasure through you, working both to overwhelm you a bit more and yet also calming you. You fall back, fully resting on him once again as he, in a way, pets you. Your eyes seemingly closed on their own.

It’s only after an unknown amount of time that he murmurs in your ear, “I’m here.”

[lovingjingyuan]

Hi!! I've been reading your first for awhile and I think you're such a great writer and I was wondering if I could request a yandere Sunday/welt/jingyuan/blade where the reader has depression and how they'd handle it? You could add anything you like :) thank you!

Thank you sm for the compliment. I'm so glad someone enjoys my works <333 Tbh I don't find my writing good cuz my English isn't so good for writing ;-; also when i writing this on google docs it was like 7 pages long.

Warning: 2.7K words, A bit affectionate in Jing Yuan and Aventurines part, manipulation, abuse of power, gaslighting, emotional abuse,

Info at bottom

Pairing: (Yandere) Sunday, Welt, Jing Yuan, Blade, Aventurine x Reader

Sunday Sunday wouldn't be able to handle it well, but instead, he would unintentionally cause further damage to your mental state. It’s elusive getting you to cooperate with his subjectives. He couldn’t quite bring himself to understand why you aimlessly slumber like this, showing little to no affection and he deluges you with this subjective perfect life. You were in a gilded cage ornate into a display of artwork, but to Sunday you’ll always be that vulnerable bird, needing guidance and protection. He couldn’t grasp the idea of why you still yearn for freedom when he can provide you with everything you desire.

You reminded Sunday of the time when he and his sister Robin once took a weak bird under their wing. The bird is like you; too weak and vulnerable for this cruel reality. Yet, his subjective never appealed to your line of reasoning. To you, people are meant to make their own choices and yearn for the touch of freedom. But to him the weak must be helped and preserved by the strong and by that you’re weak. 

Instead of offering you normal support and seeking treatment for you he would isolate you further, making watch of your every movement and ensuring you’re always in his presence every second. 

To Sunday he couldn’t just let you go now, not after all his sacrifices and efforts to hold you captive in his presence. He started to lie and twisted his thoughts into believing that this is the only path to achieve mutual happiness and to ensure your safety. Yet, it further broke him even though you refuse to make and remain apathetic with him. Your constant depression and lack of motivation left him feeling adrift. You rarely are able to take care of yourself anymore leaving him completely lost.

All he can hope is for you to develop Stockholm syndrome. He prays that your depression and lack of happiness will lead you to believe he’s the only one who can mend the wounds on your heart, filling any empty void. 

“Please stop lying on the bed. You’ve been there all day. You know that’s far from healthy and will only worsen your state,” he silently pleaded with you hoping by any miracle you would follow through. This constant isolation he put you through has been driving both you and him mad. But in the end, you lost all light in you. No longer able to plead with him any further for salvation.  

You can just simply close your eyes falling further back into nihility. 

“Please, my dear, you can't keep doing this to me… to yourself-”

‘I’m fine, ' you snapped. How his heart ached at your indifference.

“No, you’re not okay. Your behavior is absolutely absurd!” he remained unfalter on the edge of the bed next to you. Sunday’s mind ran blink on ways to save you from deluging any further in depression. He could release you, but he’s scared the moment he does. You would leave him forever like the bird he and his sister raised.

He leaned in, brushing your hair aside to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. He will continue to keep you here with him indefinitely, trying to keep his own sanity intact as well as yours. He only remains resolute to keep you here with him, refusing to open his eyes and acknowledge his wrongdoings.

“It’s not a sin. I’m doing this for the greater good.”

I believe Yandere Sunday is just manipulative in wanting to keep you, he’s no sadist but I also believe he cares a whole lot about his public image which is now RUINED! Sunday would be a good lover if you comply or not obsessed over you. Sunday would be the type to say, "Oh my days." :)

Welt During his lifetime Welt had witnessed a lot and many tragedies. Despite his knowledge and understanding of the consequences of his actions, he couldn’t suppress his urges when it came to you. Welt always made sure to keep a watchful eye over you, safeguarding you from any troubles. He would usually spend a lot of his time watching over you and observing any anomalous behavior from you. 

One sudden day he started noticing you developing odd behaviors and your daily schedule becoming a trouble. You also started to develop a habit of dissociating away from your peers, he was no exception. This unusual behavior disturbs him because it meant he can’t keep a close eye on you. 

Now I feel how he’ll handle this can go two ways: He seeks immediate professional help for you OR tries to handle this situation himself. The reason why Welt would try to handle this situation himself is to prevent you from becoming self-aware. To Welt, becoming self-aware poses a challenge to him as you’re more aware and knowledgeable of your surroundings and who is around you. He would do everything in his power to leave you clueless and thoughtless towards your surroundings so you don’t become aware of any manipulation he inflicted on you in the past.

Manipulation such as convincing you to stay with the Astral Express by his side 24/7. Welt truly cares about you and needs to see you heal. To him you’re the light in the room full of darkness in his heart. Every time you smile, laugh even when you’re clumsy or mess up he can’t help but smile, feeling relaxed near your presence. Even if you're not the brightest person you still light and warm up his heart. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, raising a brow as the bottom of his cane taps the floor behind you. Deep down he knows the answer and urges you to tell him the truth, finding comfort in his presence like he does in yours. 

“I’m alright,” you intensity waiver him away.

Unfazed by your response, he persisted, “You really don’t need to pretend, around me.”

If you do manage to admit and confess your feelings he would categorize it as depression. Welt will immediately try and cheer you up, letting March, Dang Heng and Stelle; his trusted companions around you. He will try every day to lift your spirits even letting you choose where to go for the next trailblazing expeditions. 

Welt attempts to educate himself more on the topic of depression, so he can create a safe environment for you. Although he might not exactly provide professional help he will solve it ethically.

Lol I can't see Welt keeping you captive. He would probably pressure you or convince you to join the Astral Express so he can keep a close eye on you. He's very careful when being possessive over you. Himeko and Dan Heng can catch on quickly so he would try to make you fall in love with him.

Jing Yuan Jing Yuan, a high achieving General, a man who no one can hate personally, aged over 600 years and has experience of yearning over the dead and betrayals. As he watched you drift into the endless abyss of sadness he could not help but share in your sorrow. All he truly wanted for you was your happiness and safety, including your undying love and attention. 

Yet this draining illness simply wouldn’t allow that for you. Jing Yuan is a man who is willing to go to extreme lengths in pursuit of your happiness which only he should be the one serving. Yet under one condition, he’s willing to do things that go against your happiness just so he can satisfy his impulsive desires. 

“I love you so so much. Please don’t be sad,” he murmured softly into your eyes, biting down gently on the top of your ears, which sent shivers down your body in a sensual way. He twirls the end of your hair with his fingers holding you against his embrace.

You continue to stare out into the distance, while his fingers play with the ends of your hair.

“If there’s anything you must need…. Please,” he implored in your ears from behind. The warm breath on your neck, “Tell me. I care about you and you know that.” his arms wrap around your waist telling you you’re all for him alone, all while he nuzzles his head against your shoulders. His white fluffy strands of hair tickle up against your cheekbone. 

If you ever found yourself in his custody and requested freedom, he would by all means exploit rapid, white little lies. 

"Recently, there have been reports of numerous mara-struck soldiers on the loose. 36 tragedies have resulted from these mara strikes," he warns, emphasizing the fake danger outside. "Luofu might need to go into lockdown, so it's safest for you to stay here with me."

He soon begins to take into account your condition growing rapidly worse. Your depression started to overtake your everyday life. That’s when he knew this was severe. Although sometimes delusional, he does take into account his mistakes. 

“I arranged us a date, a vacation even! It’s been many years since I left Luofu for anything other than urgent matters.”

You smiled and nodded profusely in agreement. This smile and small action deluges his heart with warm sweet love <3 How his heart jumps and flutters like a butterfly because of you. If you don’t get any better he will hire and get you an appointment with the best psychologist. 

Jing Yuan just wants the best for you wholeheartedly and truly. If he does kidnap and detain you, it’s because of his impulsive actions to keep you for himself. There will be no other 4th betrayal or the 4th person to pay the price. 

Blade Blade’s cold demeanor and sharp eyes were enough to sway anyone away; he never believed himself capable of love or being a good partner in general. Some people in this cosmos were simply not cut out to be in a relationship, or so he believed since his journey began with the thought of death lingering in his mind. 

Yingxing would have been a more suitable man in a relationship, but Blade? He doubts on the idea of love and interest. Yet, when he laid eyes on you he couldn’t ignore the strange stinging of an electric sensation in his heart. He wanted to delve deeper into this unusual sensation he was feeling. Although he knew he could never truly reveal himself.

Who wouldn’t recognize a man whose bounty is worth 8.13 billion credits? At least he has a good credit score unlike me (╥﹏╥) Blade slowly started by stalking you, falling deeper into the spiral of love and obsession. He knew with his records you could never reciprocate his feelings.

He restored to drastic measures, keeping you in his custody. It’s difficult to say he’ll treat you top-notch. Being under his care seemed more like a physiological experiment. Providing you with basic needs while expecting obedience, as if conducting an experiment. 

Blade never once will lay a hand on you, raise his voice at you, only expressing annoyance through small grunts and groans. However, the isolation drove you quickly to the brink of insanity. Every day, waking up to a meal, lack of interaction; he would simply stare down at you as you chew on the food he provided. You even lack social interaction with your kidnapper. The daily routine went on, like a trap in an asylum. 

His cold gaze lingered on you, studying your every move, all while silently making mental notes of your behavior. If you did fall into depression he wouldn’t recognize it immediately, attributing it to your natural state or how you express disappointment.

Every tear shed or harsh remark towards him is met with silent observation, perceiving it as a natural reaction. Only when severe signs startsd occurring; refusing to eat or neglecting basic hygiene, did Blade acknowledge something was amiss.

He attempts to coax you with better-tasting meals, even dessert. If you die from starvation how else will he get the same sensation he feels when around you? This strange sensation in his heart is much more desirable than death.

“Eat it, you mustn’t starve yourself,” he says nonchalantly, placing a bowl of Mapo Tofu and a small portion of rice before you.

“Just leave me alone.”

“Eat it.”

“No.”

Blade shot you a deadly glare, his intimidation palpable, urging you to reluctantly pick up the chopstick. Blade’s method or strange way of love worsens your condition. I think with Blade you probably wouldn’t relieve yourself from the chains of depression. Yet I also do believe Blade will try to understand your mental state yet fail.

If Blade were to love; he would start by, placing a hand on your shoulders and gently massaging your shoulder blade as you ate. The thought of Blade saying “I love You,” seems inconceivable, but he’d probably say it underneath his breath.

“Do now dwell in longingness for too long,” he muttered against your ears, perhaps the most motivational phrase he said to you since the decline in your mental state began. Although he won’t admit upfront he loves and feels affection toward you, his demeanor is more relaxed around you and his sharp intense eyes soften at your presence. 

How to help a depressed person 101: The reader is Blade trying to figure out what’s causing you this and how to help you. 

Aventurine From the moment Aventurine first laid eyes on you, he knew exactly what he wanted for the rest of his life. He had always felt most alive when gambling at high stakes, but being near you brought a sensation even more profound; a mix of obsession and love washed over him. 

When you begin to struggle with depression, Aventurine tries everything to lift up your spirits by lavishing you with extravagant gifts, hoping they would bring you happiness. Yet the joy was only ephemeral and wasn’t what he truly desired. What he craved was not only your happiness but also your love and affection.

He couldn’t bring it into words but, your presence was like an addictive drug he constantly craved for. His dopamine goes crazy near you, almost exploding his brain. There was something about you that he yearned to possess and preserve for himself.

“Sweetheart, I brought you this exclusive necklace,” he announced from behind, presenting the box to you.

Your face lights up only momentarily at each lavish gift presented to you, but as gifts keep coming, their extravagance holds little value. Aventurine could only find himself lost. What could he do now since he can’t seem to please you any further with his riches?

To him, his identity revolves around his wealth and luck, without the appeal towards money, he feared that he held no more value in your life. He wished you found solace in him as he did towards you.

“Is something the matter?” he asked anxiously, feeling you slip away further despite all his efforts. You’re his safe haven but he can’t fathom why he’s not your after all of his efforts. 

“I’m fine,” a transparent white lie escapes your lips.

“That’s a blatant lie,” he frowned, wrapping his right arm around your waist and pulling you in closer to him while on the bed. “Please, tell me the truth. I’ll buy you anything you want,” he continues coaxing you with the power of money.

“I’m okay,” you continue to refuse despite his effort.

Aventurine hesitates to pressure you any further, fearing that you’ll start to withdraw from him completely. He would insist, forcing you into therapy, though each session came with a price because nothing in this universe is free.

With Aventurine’s dirty money he coaxes the therapist to make every session involve him in some way while actually helping you. With the power of money, the therapist starts to manipulate you into seeking comfort, and attention from Aventurine. Every session ended with something about Aventurine, so he can linger in your thoughts.

Slowly, you began to heal, finding yourself drawn to Aventurine's presence. He welcomed this, craving pleasure since he- himself is constantly drawn to you every second.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his arm draped around you as you both lounged on plush casino's cushion.

"Better," you replied softly.

He smiled at your response, knowing it was what he wanted to hear. Finally, he was becoming your safe place, just as he had always hoped.

His hand gently massaged your back, drawing you closer until your lips were almost touching.

"Is that so?" he grinned, closing the gap with a tender kiss, savoring the sweetness of the moment. As he pulled back, staring at your bashfulness, he brushed your hair behind your ear and whispered, "If I win this, I'll buy you everything you desire."

P.S: I'm going to sleep after this but idk much about Welt despite playing hi3 since near release date. I also like keep character in character but Yandere or any NSFW +18 works are probably gonna be ooc.

Sorry this took so long I'm Trying to get my life back together :(

Mental Health

I take mental health seriously since I’m studying to become an expert in the medical field for mental health! If you’re ever in need of help please ask a trusted adult or seek help right away before it becomes worse! Just know mental health doesn’t make you a bad person but rather you’re suffering and depression is also an illness. Everyone is allowed treatment no matter what.

[cryslut]

Yan BSD Men - Lengths

「 Fyodor ~ Chuuya ~ Dazai ~ Tetchou ~ Jouno ~ Nikolai 」

- in which the bsd men cast go to certain lengths to be with you

- gender neutral reader

- content warning: yandere themes, mentions of: manipulation, torture, murder, mental, emotional n physical abuse, etc

(some of this may potentially be out of character)

not proofread so possibly grammatical errors.

↳ Fyodor Dostoevsky

Fyodor is one of those men who just love to play around with what is his. When he sees what he wants, it will be his. And that goes for you. Since he's very calm in any situation he ends up in. He happens to remain his composure completely around you. You belong to him. You just don't know it yet.

The things he does just to get you to be his is almost anything. He doesn't show his emotions all while doing so either to throw you off if you ever noticed or took hint what was going on.

He found his way to manipulate you into joining alongside him in the 'Rats in the House of the Dead'. That way he'd be closer to you than he was before, which mostly consisted of him stalking you from time to time. He had to keep an eye on what was his after all, right?

He eventually took action into his own hands, he wanted to get close to you as much as he could. He just had to draw you in. So the best way to do that, was for him to drag you around wherever he went doing whatever he was doing. Almost like it was your newest job and it had to be done and fulfilled by you, being his newest partner.

You of course obeyed his every word, cause he was your boss after all, and you had to obey him. Plus the chance of a lifetime was being able to work alongside him as a partner. At least that's what everyone thought and what everyone strongly truly believed. You however didn't have a full opinion.

But Fyodor knew this and he would soon make you believe the same. Pulling you in more and more. Wrapping you around his finger until eventually you really fell for him.

But in the meantime, he's just going to have to stick to what he's been doing for a while. Keeping you around as much as he can. Making sure you're safe. And best of all make sure that he can make you his, he wouldn't stop until he achieved this after all.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Chuuya Nakahara

Chuuya has lost a lot, and knowing this fact he was solely convinced of the fact that he would lose you too. So this made him very crazy when it came to you. He would find any way to make sure you were around him at all costs.

After joining the Port Mafia, he grew a strong interest in you and eventually you two were paired up for an assignment so this gave him a window of opportunity to get closer to you than he was before. On said assignment, he made sure you were okay at all times but all the while trying not to completely show it because he didn't wanna seem like he cared too much.

Chuuya overtime had such an unhealthy obsession with you it drove him insane. Seeing people trying to get near you really drove him towards the edge — making him want to kill said people. If someone hurt you or attempted to, they would get their ass handed to them. He'd always be there for you for certain things.

He'd try not to show it but eventually it would through his actions when those that get in the way that were a threat would disappear without nearly any trace. And those who tried to do anything bad to you, he'd either blackmail or just kick them to the curb. He's super overprotective overall.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Dazai Osamu

Dazai like his usual normal self is very flirty with you — and seems just overall sweet like his usual self. After you joined the Armed Detective Agency, getting to work with the brunette haired man, it came abundantly clear to himself that he was really fond of you. He was starting to have deep strong feelings for you that grew into an unhealthy obsession.

This led him to doing things just for you. He'd of course keep you safe, he'd find whatever ways he could to protect you. He's a confident man so his confidence really hid the fact well — that he was doing everything in his power to keep you for himself. His protection turned into manipulation. Then his manipulation turned into a violent need to hurt those who you always got into fights with you.

He's able to persuade you in any way and you fall for it everytime. You fall for his tricks, his lies, his manipulative behavior, everything he does though is for you, right? His need for you is his reason for his need for blood shed and doing things you would never imagine him doing. But again, it's all for you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Tetchou Suehiro

Tetchou is a little different than the others, he doesn't seem like he'd be into anyone but he grows quite the thing for you. After you ended up becoming apart of the hunting dogs, he admired you for your hard work and dedication towards the cause. He also admired you for your strength and your abilities.

But overtime this normal admiration turned into him being in love with you, obsessed with you. This man is more of a strong need for justice type so he doesn't use murder to get with you. He doesn't use lame tactics like manipulation either.

His admiration went from obsession which meant he would be very overprotective over you, making you feel safe with him more and more — in case there was never a fight you couldn't handle, he'd be there to protect you. He'd be there to help you through it. He tends to get himself closer to you by spending more time with you, alone time to be precise. He'd take you out on little friendly dates for brunch or something of the like. These dates were more than friendly for him — as for you, you weren't aware.

He'd make you help him train which in return he'd help you train. Making you stronger so he'd make sure if there was ever a moment you needed to be safe — your strength alone would be enough. In case he wasn't there to protect you, to help you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Jouno Saigiku

This man looks so sweet but on the inside he can be quite sadistic in nature, enjoying the thought of messing with his victims in the worst way. This is usually the case with criminals — but when he met you, this quickly changed. He didn't really care who it would be, he would hurt whoever just about got in his way of you two being together.

After you joined the hunting dogs, you got close with some of the members and he was fine for a while until eventually an obsession grew for you. His undying love sunk in and he became the worst.

And if you did something he did not like that would upset him, he'd keep his normal composed attitude in the light — his very dark hint of his personality however was there, you just didn't see it. If you don't do what he wants he will threaten it out of you. He will find any thing he can use to his advantage to get you to be willing to do as he demands.

It could be threats to your loved ones, to you, to your friends, to anyone you deem close to you. He will threaten and blackmail you to his hearts content if it gets you to listen.

His other methods would also include hurting you. Torturing you in any way he could. Whether that be mentally or emotionally or just physically if it ever got to that point. He'd mostly mess with your head. Psychological torture was best fitting because he wouldn't want to hurt his beloved, now would he? He'd be so upset if he ever had to lay a hand on you but he always tried his best not to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Nikolai Gogol

This man is so cheerful at times and it throws you off a lot. He always has to question you alot and annoy you with his usual quizzes. He was like this towards you when you first met him. After meeting Fyodor and becoming a member of the Decay of Angels — he found you quite the interesting one.

That little small interest eventually grew into him having strong deep feelings for you, and he realized this too. Overtime his quizzes got more frequent, his happiness got more loud and obnoxious. He was around you way too often. He practically clung to you. You just brushed it off as Nikolai being Nikolai.

But eventually when the jealousy kicked in when it came down to you, the rage did too. Anyone who tried to harm you, threaten you, or even flirt with you — this man did not like it one bit. Every single person who flirted with you disappeared. Every person who would harm or threaten you — would soon meet a terrible fate.

This man would constantly use his ability to torture them while laughing as it was happening. He didn't care cause he was doing it all for you. It was all because he loved you, he adored you, he wanted you, he needed you — and he was gonna have you.

He wasn't going to stop there until everyone who was an obstacle in his path would be gone, would feel every ounce of pain he could give them. He'd mess with his victims mentally and physically with his ability. Asking trick questions just so they felt like they'd got the answer right but in the end they didn't and he could hurt them all he wanted.

[signanothername]

Can we have a more in depth look into how you think Dream and Nightmare experience autism and how it affects them?

YESSSSS LETS GOOOOO!!!!

Ok before we start this ramble, I’d like to emphasize how important the time period Dream and Nightmare grew up in, it was a time period in which anything mental health related was immediately connected with “demons” and “possession”

I like to say that the twins are masked Autistics a lot, but in truth, I like to think they both started off without masking their Autism at all, they never saw anything wrong with the way they behaved (cause there indeed wasn’t anything wrong), they were comfortable with who they were and how they behaved, it was their normal in a world that saw it as abnormal, but it was when the villagers started getting in the picture that problems started

Nightmare experiences his Autism through his special interest in learning new things and reading books, hyper empathy, isolation, avoiding eye contact, semi-repulsion to touch if he wasn’t the one to initiate it, understimulation, extreme difficulty in understanding his own emotions (and by extension, difficulty in expressing them), generally being blunt, brutally honest and direct, and selective mutism, Nightmare mostly stims by repeating certain sounds or phrases and humming

Dream experiences his Autism through his special interest in nature (especially flowers), precious stones as well as sewing, difficulty understanding social cues, selective mutism, extreme sensitivity to bright lights (he has a love/hate relationship with the sun) and loud noises, overstimulation, low empathy, and learning difficulties especially when it comes to language, Dream tends to stim by flapping his hands or stomping his feet

Both the twins perfer to follow a routine, however, Nightmare tends to plan his days carefully, and finds any change in his routine extremely distressing to the point it can cause him to experience a meltdown if he couldn’t think of a quick solution

Dream finds a change in his routine distressing too, but his reaction is a bit milder, he tends to get anxious and starts stimming to calm himself down all while he works on a way to get his routine back on track

Speaking of meltdowns, whenever the twins are extremely distressed, Nightmare is more likely to experience a shutdown while Dream is more likely to experience a meltdown, that doesn’t mean the opposite can’t happen sometimes, but it really depends on the situation

Then the villagers came and abused Nightmare into masking his Autism, using his Autistic traits as an excuse to demonize him, made comments about how he must be “possessed”, meanwhile they abused Dream into masking by making sweet tainted mean spirited comments about any behavior he exhibited that felt “abnormal” to them, they’d say things like “honey, it’s rude not to look someone in the eyes when speaking to them” or how he should “use his words” when Dream felt like he couldn’t

Both Nightmare and Dream internalized such comments deeply, and started subconsciously masking their Autism, they were children at the time after all, and especially after the apple incident, Nightmare truly believed he might be a demon or at least possessed by one for centuries after, cause for so long Nightmare couldn’t find a logical explanation in his beloved books for why he behaves the way he does

The word “Autism” never even existed back then, Nightmare spent years of his life researching for any logical explanation only to hit a dead end each time, and now that he’s out in the multiverse seeing how many people don’t really exhibit the same behavior he and his twin do, he was trying desperately to reassure himself that he can’t truly be a “demon” considering Dream exhibits the same “abnormal” behaviors (it rarely made him feel better about himself), even as an adult, the thought of being a “demon” distresses Nightmare so much that he sometimes experiences a meltdown cause of it

Nightmare eventually gives up trying to understand himself and instead starts consciously masking his Autism, he starts forcing himself to look people in the eye when he speaks or spoken to, he stops himself from stimming, he forces himself to speak when he’s overwhelmed, he starts hiding his love for his special interest (he has an entire big library of books yet he’d force himself not to spend most of his time there), he stops isolating himself and forces himself not to avert from anyone touching him, all to appear “normal”, all while it’s physically painful and emotionally draining to him

Same thing with Dream, except Dream never consciously masks, it’s all subconsciously, he forces himself to make eye contact, he stops stimming when people are around, he forces himself to act “normal” when he’s overstimulated, he forces himself to speak even when he feels like he can’t, he hides his special interest and puts on a mask of empathy even when he can’t truly understand/ tune in with the pain or feelings others experience but rather only able to understand their pain in a logical manner (and it makes him feel so damn guilty, cause Dream loves to help people, he thinks that he should be able to feel sad when others do), he pretends to understand social cues when in reality he only mimics how others act in social situations, he blames his learning difficulties on “time constraints” and how he simply doesn’t have the time to sit down and learn

Sometimes both the twins’ masks slip away when they’re extremely overwhelmed, other times, they let their masks slip when they’re alone, and it only adds to their stress cause they feel a sort of fucked up guilt and shame over not acting in a “normal” way, other times it’s a guilty pleasure, they almost reached a point in which they think their Autistic traits are some sort of privilege, punishing themselves if they mess up by not giving themselves the relief of letting the mask slip when alone (like forcing themselves not to stim)

The fucked up truth is, their masks also really impairs them socially, cause sometimes they get anxious thinking about being normal, that it might distract them or cause them to lose track of things

And even when the centuries passed by and science developed and changed and the idea of demonic possession became outdated and mental health became more prominent, and the word “Autism” came to be, neither twins really know they have Autism, neither of them even know what Autism is, Dream doesn’t have the resources to understand what it is, and Nightmare gave up trying to understand himself a long time ago to realize he’s not demonic for it

Will they eventually know about it, understand themselves better and get the support they deserve? It’ll probably take as many years to undo the damage done but I like to believe they do

A kinda part 2

[everyonewooeverywhere]

pairing ✭ bf!yunho x gn!reader

synopsis ✭ just a reminder that it is in fact okay to cry

content/genre ✭ fluff

word count ✭ 500

note ✭ yet another fluff fic inspired by me being a little not ok 🫠 (also not proofread at all)

warnings ✭ none other than reader crying, but yuyu is there for comfort

Something was wrong. Yunho knew something was wrong. He could sense it in your demenor.

When you walked into the kitchen from a long day at work, he was sitting at the counter playing on his phone. He greeted you like he normally did, “Hi love. How was your day?”

You met his eyes for a second as you set your purse down on the counter, “It was alright.” A small smile formed on your lips. But he didn’t fall for it. Especially not when you were clearly distressed this morning before he left (though you didn’t think he noticed). 

“Just alright?” You hated when when people asked that question, and Yunho knew that. But he was just trying to get something out of you without prodding too much. 

He slipped of his stool and made his way to you, grabbing your phone out of your hands and placing it on the counter. He grasped your hands in his own and tried to look you in the eyes, but you kept avoiding his gaze. 

“Yunho, I’m fine,” you mumbled.

“Ok,” he said simply, “Can you at least look me in the eyes, though?” He was keeping his voice calm and level. Just treating this as a simple conversation.

You took a short breath before looking hesitantly into his eyes. Yunho couldn’t help the sympathetic look in his eyes, though. And you hated it, “Yunho, please. I’m seriously fine.”

And you were about to pull away so you could retreat to your room and avoid him for the rest of the night. Give yourself a moment to…you know…hide. But he pulled you into a hug before you could even try.

He wrapped one arm around your middle back and the other was by your head so he could run a hand through your hair. His embrace was so warm and comforting. It really brought out the vulnerable side in you. And you hated it. 

But you couldn’t find the energy in you to push him away. “Baby,” he kissed your hair, “You know it’s okay to cry, right?” You felt the light rumble of his chest as he spoke.

And you couldn’t explain it, but those words brought out every feeling and emotion you’d been feeling for days. He held you close as you sobbed into his chest. Softly rocking you side to side and caressing your head and shoulders. 

“I love you so much, my love,” he whispered over your light sobs, “You never have to feel like a burden, okay? I want to hold you while you cry.” You sniffled into his shirt, “I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re doing this alone.”

You only cry harder at his words, but your arms around him tighten. And he feels you grip at his shirt. 

“My pretty baby,” he pulls back so he can cup your cheek with his hand, “It’s always ok to cry.”

[kakushino]

hello can i get a giyuu x reader angst , like where giyuu had an argument with the reader , but it turns out the reader is pregnant? you can add any other plot twist cus i love plot twists thank you !<3

Almost

Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader

He had lost a lot of people in his life by his own making. He refused to lose you too.

Tags: pregnancy, arguments, blood mention, abortion mention (no actual abortion), hurt/comfort Word count: 2k

Masterlist

AN: Hope you enjoy it! I actually had a WIP of an argument + making up before, so I got to revisit it and add the pregnancy spice you asked for hehe~ Huge thanks to my dearest beta reader @glitchtricks94 for helping me clear it up (o゜▽゜)o☆ another huge thanks to @starrierknight for brainstorming with me

Giyuu’s injuries weren’t worse than normal, but that didn’t stop you from fretting over him – especially when he had a gash on his cheek, the same cheek you kissed a week ago when he was leaving for his mission. It made your chest feel tight to see his pretty face marred by demons. Your grandmother was surely rolling in her grave that such a classical beauty was hurt, the thought spurred you on to care for him.

No detail went unnoticed under your eye. He seemed tired, as usual, and a little stressed, as usual too - just a regular morning after slaying demons.

You sat him down at a western style dining table with a medical kit and supplies to clean the cuts with next to you. Your hands shook slightly when the damp cloth wiped away grime and blood, your lips pressed together when a fresh drop of blood oozed from the wound.

“You need to be more careful,” you murmured as you worked, the statement automatic, thoughtless.

Giyuu’s whole body stiffened. “Or what?”

You froze in place, your hand dipping the cloth in warm water. This was a new tone of his – a new way words could cut you if he wanted you to hurt: it was rough, serrated, mean. “What?”

He rolled his shoulders back a little, rearing for a fight. “You heard me the first time.”

You clenched your hand, leaving the rag in the water, and turned to fully face him. “Why are you so defensive? I meant no harm,” you replied, trying to calm the storm before it fully set in.

He stood abruptly, nearly knocking the chair he had sat in over. The look he shot you sent your heart galloping in your chest, from fear or indignation, you didn’t know. “You’ve done enough. Leave me be.”

Did he like you like this? Was the hurt in your eyes enough? That was – did he like the way it glinted, the way it caught the light? Hours upon hours spent on making your suffering pretty, and perhaps now it would pay off. He could cut you down into something pretty if he wanted to, and maybe you would let him.

Before he could walk away, before he could twist the rusty blade, you rose from your seat, “I have done nothing to warrant this tone with me, Tomioka Giyuu. Now tell me-“

"Stop bothering me," he cut you off, heading towards the door.

A violent whirlpool of emotion threatened to drown you, and for once, you let go. “You- you oaf! I can’t stand you being like this! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect,” he snapped, voice like a viper and words just as stinging. “Or at least it would be if I didn’t have you nagging me every time. I’ve been through this enough to know what to do with myself. Unlike you who sits here all pretty and safe and fat, ready to wrap a bandage and call it a day.”

You flinched, for the first time in your husband’s presence, tears springing from your eyes, which you rapidly blinked away. What have I ever done to deserve this? You had waited on your hands and knees for this man every time he’d come home battered and bruised and broken and put him back together, without complaining, with love. This was what you got in return for your devotion? Pretty and useless. That’s what he basically called you.

Your throat tightened. You hardly had the energy to respond so you turned away and just… left. You couldn’t continue listening to Giyuu when he sounded so much like… like Shinazugawa. Whatever was bothering him best be left alone to cool off before you could talk about it.

You nodded to yourself as you packed an overnight bag. Some time apart would be good for you both. You knew he wouldn’t be sent out on a mission for a few days again, since he just returned from a longer stint, so you would come back tomorrow and try to resolve it then.

It was time for a check-up with a midwife anyway.

He had really said all that.

And you left.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you left, as you should. He had treated you like garbage.

There was no going back, no taking back his idiocy, no swallowing back his words.

‘Let's stop fighting’ was at the tip of his tongue. ‘Come here and let me hug you’ nearly spilled from his lips. ‘I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry’ choked him up as you walked away.

He knew you were right. You did nothing wrong.

He felt nothing.

He was worth nothing.

Giyuu picked up the shards of his heart up and finished cleaning up his wounds. A short bath later, he walked into the kitchen to find food already made for him, now long gone cold. It just reminded him how much he butchered his relationship by what – stress and tiredness? A demon taunting him right before its death? If so little shook him up, did he even deserve to be with you?

A sharp pain pierced his heart at the thought of leaving you. His selfishness truly knew no bounds, hurting you and putting you in danger for being a Hashira’s partner yet wanting you to remain by his side.

After eating his portion, he made tea and waited to see if you would join him. There was no movement in the house at all; were you in your shared bedroom, laying in bed as you were used to when upset? He would give you time to cool off, give himself time to breathe, and then he would approach you with a clearer head. He needed to apologize.

One hour. Two hours.

Had he angered you so much that you wouldn’t come out? Your spats had never lasted this long.

The tea had long grown cold, but Giyuu couldn’t bring himself to make more. There were no sounds coming from the house.

Were you even here?

The thought jolted him from his seat, quickly walking to your shared bedroom.

“Love?”

Nothing.

“I’m coming in.”

He somehow expected it, though he’d hoped against it. You weren’t there.

Already turning to check all other rooms, he called out your name. His pace was brisk, his throat starting to clog up with a familiar emotion. Claws of anxiety sunk into his stomach, his heart beat like a drum, his lungs struggled to take in air. You weren’t there.

Where were you?

He ran through the whole estate and back two times but came up with no clue as to where you were. Panic mounted, crawling up his spine like a spider he couldn’t shake away.

Giyuu slammed the gate of his home open, very nearly running into his elderly neighbour.

She was hardly phased, though confused by his frazzled visage. “Tomioka-san? What’s got you in such a hurry, young boy?”

“Have you seen my wife?!” he’d never been as rude as he was now, but you were gone so what was he supposed to do?

“Your wife? Oh, that’s right, I saw her. If I recall, she was on her visit… hmm, who was she going to visit?” his neighbour mused. Giyuu waited with all the patience Urokodaki beat into him, that was – quite impatiently. “Oh right! A midwife! I was very surprised when-“

He stopped listening, or rather, he stopped hearing anything going on around him. A midwife? A midwife was a profession with a very specific set of skills for a very specific group of people… Did that mean-?

“Isotani-san,” Giyuu interrupted, breathless, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you saying my wife is pregnant?”

She squinted at him, “You didn’t know?”

It felt as if lightning came from clear skies and struck him. Every nerve itched with some kind of energy telling him to move.

He later vaguely remembered asking his neighbour for the direction you left in, but at the time, he saw nothing, and felt everything all at once.

Were you going to… terminate it? Were you going to tell the midwife, and would she terminate it? Was the midwife going to terminate it and help you move on? Would you move on without him?

Thoughts racing, heart galloping, Giyuu felt feverish. He stumbled back, deaf to his neighbour’s concerned questions as he turned the way you had left just hours ago. One foot in front of the other, a step by step, getting faster with each meter he passed until he was running nearly as fast as Uzui, desperation spurring him on.

Kanzaburo flew overhead, and when he cleared the village bounds, he called out to get the crow to lead him to you.

Time was of the essence. He may have botched his life, but he was too selfish to let go of you. He wanted, no- needed to get you back. You were his love, his soul, his home. He wouldn’t be able to go on if you left.

He felt crazed, desperate, as he ran.

Giyuu would have been faster had he not have to follow Kanzaburo but he wouldn’t be able to find you alone. He felt as if he was racing against the time. Any minute now, you would be in a the midwife’s home, waiting for the release from his clutches; any second now, you would sever the only tactile link you had to him – your baby.

His baby.

He swore, his mind supplementing him with your argument. It had been all his fault, he’d just lashed out because of nothing, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. How childish he’d been – and he was supposed to be a father? No, he wanted to be a father. He’d fix himself and he’d support you and he’d even carry you your whole pregnancy, so you didn’t have to walk. He’d learn to cook more than the basics to feed you and your baby.

Please, let me be in time.

Then he saw you.

The whole world seemingly froze, grey and empty save for you.

You were a pearl amongst rocks, still as beautiful as the first day he saw you, as beautiful as you were on your wedding day.

Giyuu didn’t stop, even as you turned to him in surprise when he called your name. He didn’t stop until he had you in a soul-crushing hug, tight and near bruising – one he immediately eased up on, since he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Calm down, Giyuu! What’s going on?”

“D-don’t-“ he stumbled over his words, still frantic and breathing heavily, “don’t get rid of it!”

You were confused, “Get rid of what?”

His hands were heavy clutching onto your clothes, his frame nearly hanging onto you. “Our – our child,” he gasped out. “Isotani-san told me you were- she told me you were pregnant.” His words came out in a rush, eyes wide as he stared at you, his pupils darted all over your face for a sign of – of anything, be it forgiveness, anger, sadness, anything.

Looking at him in such a state, near quivering in his spot, you felt powerful. Giyuu was at your mercy for once. You could topple him as easily as a sandcastle, crush him under your boot and grind down to juice him of all that made him who he was. It made you realize you held just as much power over him as he did over you. Oddly, you felt reassured - of his love, of your love, of the relationship. 

Heart hammering in your chest, cheeks filling with warmth, the adoration you carried in your heart spilled over and pooled in your stomach. You hungered for more of this power, positively starved to sink your teeth into him and drain him.

But that could wait.

“I am indeed pregnant,” you confirmed, your hands resting on his arms, thumbs stroking soothing lines over his muscles. You paused, letting the seconds painfully stretch out, “I’m not terminating the pregnancy.”

His whole being sagged with relief. Giyuu fell to his knees in slow motion, his hands sliding down your yukata to rest over your hips, now clutching the fabric there with a weak grip. “Thank gods…” he rasped out, his breathing stuttered as if holding back sobs. “Please, love, let’s not- I apologize – I apologize for everything. I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was wrong…”

His impossibly blue eyes met yours, the surface glistening with unshed tears, his guilt bitter but his plea tasting sweet on your tongue. Saliva gathered in your mouth, wanting more.

Did that make you a bad person?

“You dismissed my concern,” you stated, fighting back any expression wanting to take over your face. “You said I nag you. You called me useless.” And pretty, your mind supplied. He’d also called you fat, so there was that. “I didn’t deserve that.”

Giyuu’s lips were downturned, “You didn’t. I was an oaf.” His admission did nothing to soothe the ache he’d given you. “I’m willing to take whatever punishment you deem worthy of my misdeeds.” He let go of your yukata, smoothing over the wrinkles he made. He didn’t know what to do with himself, trying not to fidget as you rolled his actions and words in your mind.

“There will be no punishment,” you told him. If possible, he became even more tense, the need for absolution great. Perhaps no punishment would be a punishment of itself. “But don’t think you’re entirely forgiven. I accept your apology; you however have to make up for it your own way.” You studied his earnest expression, brows slightly furrowed as he started thinking about ways to win you back. It shouldn’t be too hard. He did it once, he could do it again.

Giyuu slowly stood up, taking your hands in his. “I won’t disappoint you, love,” he said resolutely, kissing your fingertips softly. He adored you, with his whole heart, mind and body.

Everything would work out – just like the ice always melts and clouds disperse, a typhoon passes and the sea calms.

“If you pull this act again, I’m leaving.” You glared at him for a second to get your point across. Giyuu nodded and pulled you in for a sweet kiss.

He almost lost you and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Thanks for reading! Reblog or comment if you liked it :3

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

[thranduel]

some facts about astarion that i find very cute/meaningful :)

i wanted to share this so more people can learn about him and appreciate who he is deep down, behind the mask he wears. before cazador turned him, he was just like any other person; he had hobbies, passions and emotions. those things are still there, but they’re just hidden amidst all the darkness. he was so young when he first turned that he barely had a chance to enjoy life or figure himself out. so many people miss out on the complexity of his character due to only focusing on his physical appearance or labelling him as a cruel villain, but in order to see that he’s so much more than that and he’s capable of growing as a person, all you need to do is show him a bit of love!

- he loves embroidery and poetry

- he approves when you pet the owlbear cub because most people view it as a monster (the same way people have always viewed him). it’s like he finds comfort in the fact that you can love and care for something that most people are afraid of, and it gives him hope that you may feel the same way about him too

- if you put a flower on his grave, he smiles and says "cute"

- he comes up to you in camp just to thank you and tell you how grateful he is that you allowed him to make his own decision (after you defend him and don't force him to drink the drow's blood) because he is so used to being told what to do and he was forced to use his body for so many years

- in that same scene, he will hold your hand whether you choose to stay in a romance with him or be friends instead, because he loves and appreciates you no matter what, and any sort of relationship with you is so important and meaningful to him

- if you try to romance karlach and astarion at the same time, he tells you to choose karlach over him, even if he loves you and it hurts him to do so, because he can see that karlach loves you too. he says that normally an arrangement would work for him, but after everything karlach has been through and how fragile her heart is already, he doesn’t want to get in the way or see her hurt

- if you try to romance halsin and astarion at the same time, he just wants you to do what makes you happy, even though you can tell it hurts him if you choose halsin. he’s also worried that you’re unhappy because he hasn’t slept with you (he should never have to worry about that ☹️), so he doesn’t want to stop you from enjoying yourself. in this situation and the one with karlach, you can see that there are moments where he puts others before himself and thinks about their feelings more than his own

- if you’re playing as the dark urge and you’re trying to resist it, he is so incredibly comforting and tries to give you strength and encouragement. one of my favourite astarion lines is this: “you’re not alone in this, none of us are.”

some more lines that i love:

“i don’t hate you. because this is not you. but whatever it is, you’ll get through it. and i’ll be here to make sure you do.”

“whatever it is that’s controlling you, we can fight it. i know that better than anyone.”

“this thing won’t have you. it won’t win.”

“easy now, darling. you’ve got this. and i’ve got you.”

- when you try to break up with him because you’re transforming into a mindflayer and you tell him you’re becoming something horrible, he gets so upset that you would even think that way and tells you that you’re wonderful and he doesn’t care about what you look like. then he says he would get more stares walking down a street than you to try and make you feel better

- if you love and care for him and remind him that there is still good out there, he genuinely wants to grow, be a better person and break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago

- he approves when you help people that are considered outcasts or "freaks" because he has felt that way too

- he risked his life and got punished for letting a man go instead of luring him back to cazador because it’s implied he cared about him in some way and he couldn't hurt him (not entirely sure about this one, this is just how i interpreted it based on his voice and mannerisms when he was talking about him)

- he approves when you give an orphaned child food (act 3)

- he becomes vulnerable, honest and more gentle with you once you start treating him like a person, because for the first time in his life, he actually feels safe with someone

- he's extremely insecure despite the mask he wears at the beginning of the game and he doesn't believe he is capable of being genuinely loved for who he is as a person. when you get close to him and tell him you care for him and give him a hug, he is taken aback at first, but then he believes you and hugs you back. also, when you're playing as the dark urge, you get this line: "you like him for more than his looks, but he will never believe that." this is proof that astarion is so used to being reduced to his physical appearance after what he was forced to do for so many years, and he thinks that's the only reason why people like him. he struggles with intimacy and forming strong emotional bonds, so that's why it makes your relationship with him even more meaningful when he realises that you truly do love him for who he is, not just for his looks and body

- when the drow you met at moonrise shows up in act 3 and tries to make you drink something, astarion tells you to say no, because the only thing she's offering is pain and he doesn't want to see you hurt

- if you romance him, stop him from doing the ritual and help him defeat cazador, he tells you that you are the only person he's ever truly cared for

- if you defeat cazador without him and tell him you just wanted to protect him, he gets upset at first because you left him behind without telling him and he wanted to take revenge himself, but then he becomes understanding and says “maybe this is what’s best? the kind of power that ritual offered could ruin a person. even me.” this shows how much he’s grown and matured as a person and he’s aware of the consequences of too much power. the scene also ends with him telling you that he’s grateful for something that you did to help him (again).

- he becomes more self-aware, straightforward and honest over time and he doesn’t pretend like he’s perfect. he tells you that you were by his side through all the bloodlust and pain and misery, despite all of his flaws and mistakes. you remained patient with him and trusted him even though it was an objectively stupid thing to do, but he is so grateful for it because you believed he could become a better person (and he did)

- this is sad but he remembers some of the names of the people he had to lure back to cazador and even the memories he shared with them. you can see this during the scene with sebastian, and it’s clear that he actually cared about him (not sure how many situations were like this, but there was definitely more than one)

- if you say “i’m sorry we couldn’t save the other vampire spawn”, he says:

“we could have tried. we could have given them the same chance i had. i was able to go out into the world and make better choices. to go against my nature and become more than a blood-sucking monster. maybe they would have done the same. or maybe not - but did we have the right to take that choice away from them?”

this scene shows how much astarion has grown and how compassionate and empathetic he can be towards others. he understood what it felt like to have his own freedom taken away while cazador made all his decisions for him, so he didn’t want to put the other vampire spawn through that too (especially because he still feels so guilty for luring them there in the first place)

- if you romance him and he stays as a vampire spawn and you choose to help him look for a cure so he can stand in the sun again, this is revealed during the epilogue scene:

“one night, he tells you that these last six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”

he’s finally truly happy and free, and the short time he’s spent with you is already so incredibly powerful and important to him. being with you has positively impacted his life in such a massive way that it makes all those centuries of pain and misery feel so much smaller

- another sweet line from astarion during the epilogue scene after he tells you to go catch up with your other friends and see how they’re doing:

“i’ll be here when you’re ready. i’ll always be here, my love.”

THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND GROWTH 😭🫶🏼 he’s become so kind, loving, respectful, genuine and sincere. i’m so proud of him 🥹

[hellisharchive]

Heyoooo! You probably know me from messaging you but I wanted to ask if you could write a Vox x Fem!reader where reader just takes care of a really wasted but infatuated Vox?

﹒﹒﹒my queen

➤ 18+, drunk Vox, jealous reader, fluff fluff fluff, bathing

➤ Literally wrote this at 2 am and got done at 3 am, so not beta read <3 TYSM for the request! I hope you enjoy it!. AGAIN HOW THE FUCK DID I ACCIDENTLY POST THIS THIS WAS A DRAFT. I dont like how this turned out tbh

You and Vox were close, but you wouldn't dare say that you two were dating. You did have a small crush on him and was scared that confessing would ruin your fiendship. Little did you know he also had a crush on you as well, it was just unfortunate he was letting his business and brand take importance over his personal life. You were an honorary Vee and his best friend. Sure, Velvette and Valentino were his friends too, but you always got jealous as you watched Val and Vox act in such a romantic way with each other all the time. You always suspected that they were a thing, and even if they didn't have a label, you respected it. So, you always kept your feelings hidden deep down

. But you did need a break, it got so tiring having to watch and hear them act all cute and making sexual advances from the time to time. You've been ignoring Vox for at least two weeks, probably not the best choice but your emotions got the better of you. But tonight, you decided to get out of the tower and have some fun. You went to a pretty well known nightclub- not owned by Vox, a rare occurrence- to let off some steam. Your goal was to get laid by the end of the night with a convenientially attractive stranger, but life doesn't always work out as you want.

Yet, when Vel called you as you were about to get on the dancefloor with a hot bull, you dropped everything to take care of the television that was drowning his sorrows in alcohol. According to her, he kept talking about how he wished he could tell you something and how beautiful you were. You mulled over it as you walked back through the tower in your fancy nightclub dress just an hour earlier. While on your way there, you came across Velvette who looked very pissed off and scrolling through phone in the main living area of the personal living quarters. When she saw you, she flipped you off and rolled your eyes.

"Fucking finally! Vox has been throwing a hissy fit waiting for his queen to come and shut him up. Fuck you for taking so long, he's called me twenty fucking times asking where you were bevause he forgot he changed your contact info!" That was all she said before growling and walking away, signalling that you were going to handle this yourself like normal. You never let what Vel says get to you, that's just how she normally is. But he changed your contact info? What to? You've calmed down a drunken Vox many times before, but this time seemed bad.

"Vox?" You knock and call out before opening his door to find a very wasted man laying on his couch, hiccuping and looking incredibly sad. He was slumped over with a wine bottle in his hand, no wine glass, and the red liquid was spilled all over himself. Wine? Really? He got drunk on wine out of his entire collection? He's usually a fun drunk, cracking jokes and overall being the most funny in the room from the out of pocket shit he says. So seeing him so down makes you feel guilty for ignoring him. But as soon as he looked at you, his face lit up and a smile immediately popped up. He dropped the glass and stood up, trying to rush up to you. However, because he was so inebriated, he started to stumble, which caused you to rush up and catch him from his shoulders.

"My Queen! Where did you go? I missed you my sweet!" The comment about Vel calling you his "queen" you just passed off as Vel being Vel, but now he was calling that you too? Maybe playing into this fantasy would be best, drunk people are never rational and don't know what they're even saying.

"Well my king, I had a very important meeting with another kingdom to attend to. But you requested my presence immediately!" You spoke matter-of-fact as you navigated him to the bathroom, it was hard already with him being unable to properly walk, but he also kept staring at you, so he stepped over his own feet countless times.

"Hehehe...I like when you call me that. YOUR king. I'm your king! How lucky am I?" He giggled and that made your heart beat faster. How lucky was he? What was he talking about? Maybe this was just his drunk self talking, you knew he didn't feel that way, he absolutely had a thing for Val, not you. Gulping, you finally manage to drag him to the bathroom where you sat him on the toilet. He would be so sticky with all that wine that soaked through his clothes, so you were going to bathe him. Sure, getting him in and out his going to be a challenge, but you still cared for this man a lot and wanted the best for him.

"I'm getting you your pjs, do not move ok?" You started to leave the bathroom when he whined loudly, making a swipe for your wrist but missed as he looked at you with puppy eyes. Due to his television screen head, his facial expressions can get extremely animated, unlike normal sinners. His eyes basically took up his entire screen, only leaving a little bit of space for a pout. The sight made your heart ache.

"Don't leave again my lovely queen! I need to tell you something!" Sighing, you gave him a soft smile and walked back up to him. Picking up his hand, you put your other hand on top of his and gave him the most softest smile you muster..

"It is bedtime, my king, you must be bathed before heading to our bed. You can tell me once we retire" Our bed. Saying it made your heart do flips.

"Oookkk my beautiful queen! Hehehe you're so pretty..." He had a dopey smile as you walked away, heart hammering so loud it should have been echoing in the room. He thought you were pretty? Fuck- why does he made you feel this way? You knew that look too, it was a look of complete love. He certainly couldn't love you though, that has to be impossible. He was with Val, he had to be. Going on autopilot, you gather up his favorite pyjamas and mentally prepare yourself for going back into the flames. When you get back, he was still sitting on the toilet, giggling and staring ahead as he was talking to himself about how in love with him he was.

What?

He was drunk, he was drunk, he was drunk- why couldn't you even entertain the idea of him returning your feelings? Why was it so hard to accept that fact? Taking a deep breath, you walk into the room and he lights up again.

"My queen! Are thou ready to bathe me? You got my favorite pjs! And you have an amazing ass! There's a reason why I married you!" Freezing once again, you ignoring his comment about your ass in luei of the last thing he said. Married...you? Did Vox think you two married each other? The thought made you shiver and face warm with how amazing that sounded. Being officially tied to him forever, waking up with him together, and getting to love him forever. Standing up after finishing setting the dials to the right temperature, you looked at him and now needed to know more.

"And why else did you marry me my dear?" Battting your eyelashes with the most innocent face you could gather, you started to stip him of his clothes. You've seen him naked a handful of times which always made you incredibly flustered, but undressing him? It made you nervous, especially with how he's acting towards you.

"You're the beeeeest, like, THE best! You're so pretty and gorgeous and have SUCH a hot bod! But you're so so sweet and amazing and help me with everything!" Did he...did he actually love you? Was whatever he was doing with Val was nothing? Shakily manging to get him completely undressed, you stood him up to maneuver him into the large tub. Not trusting yourself to say anything more, you gently lay him down in the perfectly warm water and start lathering him up. You also never bathed him before, so your nerves were going to overdrive. He took your silence and silenced himself too, maybe he somehow knew you were really anxious right now. Taking great care in not getting water on his head, you see as his face turned from a happy one, to a somber one.

The rest of the process of getting him out, drying him off, changing into his pjs, and moving him to his bed was deadly quiet. You felt like you would be breaking some unsaid rule. Tucking him into bed, you left a glass of water and painkillers on his nightstand, turning off the big light and turning on the lamp. Sitting down next to his curled up body, you rubbed his back and felt conflicted. He's drunk as balls. He probably won't remember any of this. Getting up and saying goodnight, he yells for you one last time.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what I did wrong but I'm sorry. Is it Val? We aren't anything serious. I was too scared to tell you because you're so beautiful and I didn't want you to leave me. I love you" Vox looked down at his lap with a sullen expression. Heart hurting for the countless time today, you gave him a kiss on his screen and turned away with a smile

"Tell me when you're sober"

[akutasoda]

hello, jing yuan, aventurine, sunday and boothill with a teen!assasin reader who was ordered by their master to kill them but couldnt and [character] took them in due to their young age and frankly them being pitiful

Reader was practically forced onto assasination, is hardened and doesnt show much emotion due to their past

youthful assassinations

synopsis - they meet you through some awkward encounters after a failed assassination and yet they take pity on you and try to help

includes - jing yuan, aventurine, sunday, boothill

warnings - gn!teen!reader, fluff, slight angst, maybe ooc, mentions of killing etc, wc - 1.3k

jing yuan ★↷

↪ being the arbiter general of the luofu meant that he would have a great deal of enemies or people out to get him. but out of all the people he would expect to be sent after him, the last in that list would be a teenager. admittedly a rather skilled one.

↪although, no amount of training for you could defeat someone who had many, many years more experience than you. normally, anyone who made an attempt on his life would be sent rather promptly to the shackling prison with a hefty sentence. but fortunately for you, jing yuan took pity.

↪he could take a wild guess that you didn't choose to do this, there was something about the fact that you were so young that made him decide that you had no free will - which he would be correct about.

↪admittedly, the main reason he decided not to take action against you was because he took pity - but another reason was because he admired the skill you had, he just thought it was wasted under your current work. he could tell that your current skill could be used much more effectively, and morally better, under his guidance.

↪naturally, you were incredibly cautious and adamant about giving up your job to be taken in by the one you were ordered to kill. but ultimately you decided to go along with it, it was a much better outcome than going to the shackling prison or simply returning to those that sent you out on the mission - you had a feeling they wouldn't be so kind to you after failing.

↪it was extremely awkward between the two of you at first. jing yuan was very persistent however, he wanted to help you and he was sure you'd come around to him in no time. although he did find it rather difficult to figure out what you were feeling because he truly couldn't tell with you.

↪jing yuan tried his hardest to help. he knew it was a difficult task but he was determined to make sure that your life got set on the right track. slowly but surely he would build up your trust - very slowly because you weren't so eager to give up anything about yourself.

↪your skill was certainly impressive for your age and jing yuan definitely thought it was much better used in the cloud knights, or even another retainer, than some unlawful assassin work. and eventually, he felt like he had another child to look after.

aventurine ★↷

↪the IPC wasn't exactly the most liked company in the galaxy, far from it. so naturally being a higher level member of the IPC meant that some people would be hunting you down. so having someone go after a stoneheart wasn't all that uncommon. although a teenager skilled in assanation was definitely a surprise to see.

↪unfortunately, you were practically set on an impossible mission. trying to kill someone who was luck blessed upon them wasn't exactly going to end well for you. fortunately however, you were lucky enough for aventurine to take pity on you.

↪he knew what it was like to be forced into something as a child, although it was quite the different experience between the two of you. but he still felt bad, you clearly hadn't had the choice to begin with and he wanted to help someway.

↪getting you to join the IPC wouldn't exactly be the greatest upgrade for you, if anything from his own personal experience it would only make it seem better but would be worse. however aventurine knew that your ‘employer’ wouldn't take your failure well.

↪so unfortunately, aventurine managed to land you a job at the IPC. except you were to work directly under him as a fork of bodyguard, that way the IPC’s grasp wasn't as bad as it normally would be to a regular employee.

↪aventurine understood why you didn't show much emotion, he couldn't blame you. all he could do was hope that eventually you'd start trusting him, he knew it could take ages but he never had someone genuine in his corner back then, so he'd be someone in yours.

sunday ★↷

↪head of the oak family. a title that carried a lot of responsibility and consequently, a lot of risks. some risks did include some people choosing to hunt him down, some people such as your ‘employer'. sunday never expected for a teenager of all people to be the next to go after him.

↪no amount of skill you possess could actually prove a threat to him, and it took him no time at all to discover who your ‘employer' was and the intent of them sending you after him - thanks to a certain gift from a certain aeon.

↪which is also how he knew immediately that you were practically forced into this job and the whole assanation thing as a whole from a young age. admittedly, this did stir a tad bit of sympathy from sunday and so he took pity on you.

↪your skills were impressive for someone of your age and so sunday thought that you'd be better suited to working alongside the bloodhounds or some faction in penacony, not the lousy people that you worked for before. although he did also think that you deserved to have time away from the whole ‘assassination’ business.

↪sunday knew that you would be rather closed off and emotionless, he didn't care all that much though. he understood that you had quite the past and so he expected that from you. he would just have to try his hardest to help you break out of that shell to at least him.

boothill ★↷

↪boothill had many, many people either chasing down his own bounty or simply hunting him down. although, you were certainly the first teenager that had been sent after him - and no matter how skilled you were, he certainly wouldn't let himself get caught by you of all people.

↪boothill was initially quite impressed by the skills that you held at such a young age, you kind of reminded him of his old self at a young age. he reckoned that you could definitely hone your skills even more as you grew up but clearly not under whoever at that moment.

↪galaxy rangers often worked alone, and boothill adhered to that. however, he could clearly tell that you had been forced into assassination and knew that if you continued on with however, it wouldn't end up so well off later down the line.

↪and so boothill offered you the choice to travel with him. he definitely thought that he could help you more than those lazy scoundrels that sent you after him could - you could even help him with bounty-hunting but that could come later.

↪he knew that you weren't so open with him and he respected that. naturally you wouldn't be close to someone you just met, especially considering your past, but the fact that you took his offer showed that you had some kind of trust or faith in him.

↪the person that became boothill had a daughter, he never got to see her grow up. you could never be her but he wasn't asking you to be. boothill saw you the same way his adoptive parents saw him, a child, or teenager even, in need of help. in need of a parental figure. and that's exactly what he aimed to be for you.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

You belong to me

Summary: reader is a female police officer that began to have a friendship with someone who got sent to help with a case. But things took a dark turn…

Warning: Manipulation. Kidnapping. Stalking. Gaslighting. Stockholm syndrome. Power dynamic. Power abuse. Emotional abuse and distress. Guilt-tripping. Isolation. Emotional blackmail. SMUT. Creampie. Handjob. Blowjob. Oral (m receiving). Reader is toxic. Leon is a victim. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

Word Count: 4,193

A/N: since it’s October, I wanted to try something different. We’ve all seen the fics where Leon is the toxic one but what about the reader? This is my attempt at toxic reader.

“My honey I know, with the dawn that you will be gone. But tonight, you belong to me,” - Tonight You Belong To Me, Patience and Prudence

When you were young, you looked up to the heroes of the world. The police, the firefighters, etc. It all fascinated you and you found it in yourself to want to help others as well. It was all an innocent dream that started when you were just a little girl and now here you are, working as a police officer in the city’s infamous police department.

People come and go, new faces everyday. It’s filling out paperwork and writing reports about incidents you’ve been called to. Sure, you’ve had your share of the donut and early coffee rounds, but nothing beats cruising in the patrol car.

You’ve never been an obsessed type of person, you just took a really good liking to things. Video games, music, books–they were all just common interests. But something about your job was so exciting. It wasn’t just helping people, it was the necessity to feel the rush flow through your blood through car chases or when you venture into a building with your flashlight out searching for criminals. At the end of the day, it felt amazing capturing the bad guys and throwing them in a cell.

It was a normal day, nothing too out of the ordinary. You were called to a crime scene in a neighborhood in the middle of your night shift. You were the first of your squad to arrive and there you saw an unfamiliar man. He wasn’t a police officer but he seemed like the real deal.

“Ah, Officer L/N,” said the police commander as he motioned for you to come forward, “Let me introduce you to this guy. He’s done nothing but save the country countless times. Meet Agent Kennedy, he will be assisting us tonight.” Agent Kennedy was tall with blonde hair and blue eyes. Skin pale with a few freckles adorning his face.

Agent Kennedy nods and extends his hand to you for a handshake, “Nice to meet you, I hope we can work with no issues.” You nodded and took his hand in return for a firm handshake before letting go, “Pleasure to meet you as well.”

“So,” Agent Kennedy said as he looked over at your boss, “What’s the situation here?” The police commander then began to walk inside towards the house you had parked on the side to, “There’s been a suspicious call to the precinct,” he said as you and Agent Kennedy followed him inside, with Agent Kennedy letting you enter first.

“Lady down the street said that there was yelling and she called to make a noise complaint but then she said it all got quiet so she decided to check on the people who lived here,” he said as he walked the two of you to the living room. Upon reaching the living room, the floor’s carpet was drenched in blood and the walls had blood spatters around them. You grimaced at the sight but Agent Kennedy simply narrowed his eyes, his blue eyes jumping from blood spatter to blood spatter around the room, “Any clue about the victim?” Kennedy asked.

“Female. Early thirsties,” the police commander began to describe, “5 foot 5–the other neighbors said that she was a sweet lady but that her boyfriend wasn’t much of a gentleman. When we first came to check, the body was missing and there was no weapon on sight. It was as if someone had murdered her and took her body with them. We tried contacting the boyfriend but he’s been MIA for a while now.”

Your eyes wandered around the room, how could anyone do this? Sure, there is no certain proof that the woman’s boyfriend could’ve done it but it was a lead right?

“What about the boyfriend’s records?” You asked, “If his record states suspicious activity or other charges, then we’d know by then, right?”

“No,” Agent Kennedy replied right before your boss could, “This doesn’t seem like something a felon would do. Usually felons who are trying to save face try to avoid getting in trouble with the law. This is something completely unrelated to the victim’s relationship.”

“Then what could’ve caused this?” the police commander asked. Kennedy kneeled on the ground, his eyes inspecting the bloody carpet, “An amateur. This is probably just the work of someone trying to prove that they can kill.” Kennedy stood back up again and looked at your boss, “I’ll have a few of my men search the house, there’s been other cases like this that we have previously looked at and I think this is just another one of those.”

You furrowed your brows, “So you’ve dealt with this killer before?” you asked, to which he nodded, “Yes. But I can’t say anything. It’s a government case.”

It was a long night but thanks to Agent Kennedy, he made it run smoother than you had anticipated.

Agent Kennedy…

What a guy.

-

For the days that followed through, balancing minor incidents and the big case on your plate, you’ve met with Kennedy more than a few times. It was as if it was a coincidence. You saw him at a bar, in the police station, in the store–quite the few times. But you were polite in each encounter. You smiled, you waved, you even initiated conversations with him. And he was kind to you in return.

You were happy, life was great.

You’ve even stopped him several times when you saw him on the road.

“Hey, just a reminder to turn on your lights,” you’d say as you’d lean against his car door.

“Make sure your license plate gets renewed, you’re lucky I’m a nice officer,” you’d say with a friendly smile.

Or sometimes you would meet in your office for the case and talk.

“You know, you’re lucky I’ve been just giving you warnings on the road,” you said as you sat on your desk with him sitting across from you. He smirks and shakes his head, “It’s like you’re always there. Are you secretly following me?”

You laughed and it was your turn to shake your head in denial, “I’m too busy to follow you around. Plus, what’s the harm if I did? I’ve been helping you avoid a ticket, haven’t I?”

He nods and laughs, “Yeah, I guess you’ve kind of been like a friendly officer.”

“I’m for the people,” you said as you laughed with him, “I try to help as much as I can. I’m not a saint, but people can do good, right?”

“Yeah… they can,” he muttered and leaned back against the chair he was sitting in, “No but seriously, I’ve been seeing you around more often than lately. I’m not saying it’s weird, I appreciate you giving me tips and warnings but–I mean, is it even allowed?”

You laughed again, “It’s a small town, Leon,” you said, “I’m busy everywhere and plus, no one has to know. There are millions of things happening at once in this place. Me not giving you a speeding ticket is nothing worth mentioning.”

Everything seemed to be going well for you. You’ve grown closer to Leon ever since you started that case. Sure, you’ve seen him more frequently but it was pure coincidence, right?

-

Leon was sure something was going on. He’s been seeing you more frequently and you stopped him at random times. He’s grateful you haven’t given him a ticket but he can’t help the growing suspicion that you’ve done this so frequently. His worries only grew after that day in your office.

He was never a man to take things lightly. He’s always thought things through and was a smart and confident man. At some point he began to feel guilty because he could see just how hard you work around the station. You’ve taken shifts but you always kept a smile on your face, it made him feel shitty for thinking so poorly of you.

You were sweet and kind, always wanting to help people just like him.

But there was just something in his gut telling him to watch out.

“Y/n,” he said in surprise when he found you next to his car. You turned and smiled at him, “Hey, Leon. Haven’t seen you in a while, just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He forced a smile and nodded, “Yeah, I-uh-I’m fine. Just been busy with the case. Jane Doe, you know?”

“Jane Doe,” you repeated quietly. There was a silence between you two, one that he didn’t know if it was suffocating or intimate. He’s never been good with the ladies after all.

“You know,” you said softly, “I’m here if you ever need to talk. I’m the only one who can really understand you. I’ve seen things no one should see. I’ve been through hell and back before and I know how it feels like to be stuck in this dark place,” you said as you pointed to your head.

His face fell and he stared at you in silence.

“Therapy doesn’t work. I know everyone says that but when has therapy ever worked for you? You have this distant gaze, Leon,” you whispered as you took steps forward towards him, “I’m the only one that can see the pain you feel everyday.”

He furrowed his brow, “Why are you saying this?” he whispered. You smiled, “Because I want to help. I’m your friend.”

-

The words were glued to his mind and now he felt more uneasy but something in your words spoke out to him. He’s never really had the chance to heal, not after Raccoon City. But he’d never say that your words were doing things to his mind. You showed kindness no one ever has, you spoke to him in a caring voice, and you were never his enemy.

He’s never seen someone so… friendly. At some point he found you too friendly but then he’d feel guilty for thinking that stuff about you.

He shouldn’t have been paranoid of you, your eyes and your smile were ones of an angel.

Leon doesn’t have a family and he’s never had a real friend before. Something in him felt warm and odd.

“I’m your only friend here, Leon,” you said as the two of you sat on a bench just right outside the front of the police station, “No one ever listens and if they do, they’re lying. When someone says they care, they don’t. They have to show you that they care like I have. I care about you, I really do. You don’t need those fake friends, you’ll be okay with me. Small circle beats a bigger

circle in terms of a social life, right?”

He nodded, taking your words into consideration, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Lots of people lie nowadays. Can’t ever tell who’s going to stab me in the back.”

“Exactly,” you continued, “Why stress about someone’s loyalty when you have someone that already has proved it. Remember that time I didn’t give you a ticket for speeding or having alcohol in your vehicle? I’m a real friend, Leon. There’s no one else that understands you like I do.”

“Well, I do have some other friends,” he muttered, “they’ve been through the same things I’ve been.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “You’re going to listen to your friends who barely care, over me? I’m the one who has your best interests in mind, Leon.”

“I’m not saying that to make you any less of a friend but you’ve got to admit that you stop me too many times on the road,” he said. You rolled your eyes and looked at him, “You know you’re being paranoid, right? I’ve done nothing but help you, and you’re trying to say I’m some kind of creep. I’m the only one who’s been there for you. You should trust me more than anyone else. Nobody else cares as much as I do.”

He felt bad and guilty for making you think he thought you were a creep. He frowned and looked at you, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you look like a weirdo, I’m just… I haven’t had a real friend in a long time. Probably since high school and that was years ago.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you sighed softly, your expression turning soft and caring with a small smile tugging your lips, “I understand you were just being cautious and I can’t blame you for that. But don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I care about you and I want to help.”

-

Leon suddenly found himself in a dark room. He blinked his eyes open and saw that he was in a dimly lit room. He tried to move but his hands were tied. Leon was tied down to a chair, his hands behind the back of the chair tied together with rope, as well as his legs tied down on the legs of the chair. Panic surged through him. The room was cold and silent, eerily silent. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his breathing.

He tried to shift around but then his eyes landed on the walls of the room. He furrowed his brow, what the hell was going on? “What the..” he muttered under his breath and then he turned his attention towards the sounds of footsteps descending a pair of stairs. Now he understood he was in a basement.

“Hello,” calmly rang the voice of a woman. Chills ran down Leon’s spine as you stepped closer, making your figure known to him. Why were you here?

“Y/n, you’ve got to help me,” Leon as he tugged at his tied wrists, “I don’t know how I ended up here. Come on, help me–” he grunted as he struggled. But you remained stilled in front of him. Your eyes watching as your calm demeanor took over.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” you said casually. He looked up at him, confusion written on his face, “Can’t help me?” he repeated in disbelief, “Why not?”

“Because I’m the one who did this to you,” you replied. There was no remorse in your tone. YOu were casual and cool, something that made Leon’s skin crawl with goosebumps. He’d never have guessed that you would be the one to ever put him in this situation.

“You see, Leon,” you began as you walked around him, circling him around, “I’m the only you can rely on. You don’t need those other people. They don’t know you like I do. I was only trying to help.”

“Help?” He repeated incredulously, “You tied me to a chair! How is that helping?!”

“Don’t be like that,” you said as you walked back to stand in front of him, leaning down to his face, “You should be grateful, after everything I’ve done for you, shouldn’t you be thanking me? You’re making me feel bad Leon.”

He frowned, his heart aching at your words, “I am grateful for your friendship but I just–”

“Just what, Leon?” you interjected, “Come on, now, don’t be like that,” you continued as you brought a hand to his cheek, gently caressing his face, “You know I’m the only one who’s ever listened to you. I know how damaged you are and I’m the only one who’s accepted you as you are. Look at your so-called friends, they haven’t talked to you. They’re not like me, they don’t care about you like I do.”

He looked up at you with those saddened blue eyes, his head subconsciously leaning into your hand, “But you said you wouldn’t hurt me,” he whispered.

Your thumb swiped along his cheek in a soft caress, “I haven’t, have I?” you whispered back, “I would never hurt you, you know that. It hurts me that you’re doubting me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back immediately, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, I'm just… confused.”

“It’s okay to be confused but you have to trust me. I’ll never hurt you,” you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, your lips feeling soft on his skin like a soothing balm. But this only made him more confused. He should be angry and attempting to escape but he couldn’t, he didn’t want to betray you like that after all you’ve done for him. He shouldn’t, right?

He closed his eyes and sighed, leaning into your hand as if he was seeking your comfort. You smiled at his behavior, “Look at you,” you murmured, “You’re so deprived of love, aren’t you?” you asked mockingly, to which he nodded. He opened his eyes and looked up at you, “I am…” he whispered, “No one’s treated me as kindly as you have. I… I don’t have anyone besides you.”

“You don’t have to, I’m the only one you need, Leon,” you whispered as you leaned your lips down his face, just right above his lips, “I promise I won’t leave you if you won’t leave me.”

“I promise,” he replied almost instantly, “I won’t leave you. Please…” he begged, craning his head up as if trying to meet your lips. He was desperate for a touch of affection and you were willing to give him that, he wasn’t about to let go of you in the end.

“Please what?” you whispered.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”

“Can you kiss me?”

“I can.”

You pressed your lips against his in a short kiss, causing him to whine and lean forward to keep kissing you, “Y/n, please,” he begged again. You smirked and leaned down to kiss him again, this time longer and more passionate. He closed his eyes and sighed into the kiss as your hands raked around his hair, tugging at his blonde strands. Your tongue grazed his bottom lip, to which he let you explore his mouth with.

He was so easy, all he needed was a little bit of love and he was down at your knees for you.

Your hand moved down his chest to his pants. Your palm ghosting over his crotch, you pressed your hand over it. He hissed and moaned, his body going tense before you began to rub him through the fabric of his jeans, “Y/n,” he whined again.

“You want me to touch your dick? Make you cum?” you murmured mockingly, he nodded his head and jerked his hips up into your hand, “Please,” he whispered.

You stood by his side, hand going inside his pants until you felt his boxers. He felt hard and long, almost making you wet. Your hand didn’t stop rubbing him through his boxers, his needy whines and moans echoing through the basement. Then, he attached his lips to your boob over your shirt, his teeth nibbling around the fabric of your shirt.

“Want to suck my tit like a baby?” you mused, he nodded and looked up at you through his lashes, “Yes,” he whispered. And how could you deny him anything when he’s been nothing but a good and obedient boy?

With your free hand, you lifted your shirt and took off your bra, watching as his pupils dilated and immediately latched his lips on your breast. His teeth pulled at your nipple before his tongue flatly dragged over your stiff peak. Your hand on his boxers moved over inside, feeling the skin of his dick on your hands. You pulled it out of his pants and circled your hand around his cock, rubbing up and down from the tip to the base. He moaned against your breasts, the vibrations sending a wave of arousal through you.

He kissed and licked all he could, his lips becoming swollen and your boob glistening with his saliva. God, he could suck your tit all day if you asked him. His moans became short and breathy the more you stroked him, his cock spasmed and twitched as he felt himself near his orgasm and without further notice, you suddenly dropped down to your knees and put his cock in your mouth. He gasped and threw his head back, his lips parting as he moaned every time you bobbed down on his dick. He bucked his hips further into your mouth while your hands massaged his balls, drawing an embarrassing moan from his throat.

Soon enough he came into your mouth, his sweet cum shooting ropes. But you didn’t swallow. Instead, you stood up, hands going to his jaw as you forced his mouth to open. You spat his cum into his mouth and forced him to close his lips.

“Swallow,” you commanded him. He nodded and swallowed the cum you gave him, he was left panting as he looked up at you.

“Good boy,” you purred and kissed his lips and he instantly kissed you back–tasting him on your lips.

“Let’s take these off you, hm?” you said as tugged at the rope around his wrists. He nodded and let you untie him. It’s not like he can escape anyway, where would he go? No one would believe that you, the kind officer, would ever kidnap anyone. And he’s desperate for love and attention, he can’t leave if he wanted because he wouldn’t have anyone to compensate for the lack of love he’s received. He became dependent on you.

As soon as you untied him, he grasped your waist and brought you between his legs, pressing his face on your stomach as he kissed the skin on your belly. You caressed his hair, allowing him to touch and worship you as he wanted.

“You want more?” you asked softly and he nodded against your stomach, “I do,” he whispered.

“Come on then,” you said as you took his hands and pulled him from the chair, “Let’s go to my room. My home is your home now.”

-

It was indeed his home now. He hadn’t noticed but you have, the way he started to leave his things in your house such as clothes and shoes. It was a small change but he slowly began to move in with you. It was such a power trip dynamic that you loved, having this power over him. He can’t ever leave you, where would he go?

Your obsession with him was successful. This was all you wanted from the start. You’ve had eyes for him ever since he got assigned to help you and your team on a murder case.

And now he’s on your bed, naked and thrusting into you from behind as you bent over with your ass in the air. His hands on your hips as he was on his knees behind you on the bed. Your hands held the bed’s headboard, feeling it slam against the wall everytime he plunged deep into you from behind. His cock leaving and entering with force, as if trying to prove his loyalty to you. He was like a dog, in a way. The tip of his cock grazed your cervix, causing your eyes to roll back and a moan to slip past your lips. He groaned and whimpered, feeling his cock get swallowed by your tightening walls.

“Y/n,” he whined as his hands moved to your waist, gripping your body tighter, forcing your body on his cock. Pushing and pulling you as his hips did the same, the sound of skin slapping echoing loudly around the room.

“Fuck–” he cursed under his breath, “You’re so tight. I’m gonna–”

“Don’t stop,” you moaned, moving your body on him to help him. He leaned down to bury his face on your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses on your skin as his chest pressed against your back. His hand released your waist to squeeze at your bouncing breasts, “Pretty,” he murmured into your ear as he squeezed your tits again.

His thrusts became sloppy as you neared your organism, he could feel the way your pussy began to throb and it was sending him on a frenzy. When your sweet nectar came around his cock, coating him wet and making sinful squelching sounds, he couldn’t hold himself back and he slammed his hips against your ass and came deep inside you. His dick throbbed as he shot his rope of white cum inside your pussy.

His cock softened but he didn’t move, both you were left panting and trying to catch your breath. Your bodies sweaty as the room smelled of sex. When he pulled out of you, you brought your hand down to your cunt to collect his cum and put it back inside, he groaned at the sight that he just watched and he couldn’t believe he just came inside you.

“Aren’t you going to clean me up?” you asked and he got snapped out of his thoughts. He quickly nodded and got off the bed, “Yes–hold on.”

He went into the bathroom and got a wet towel, then he came back into the room and cleaned you of his cum. After discarding the towel, he joined you on the bed and cuddled you.

“I love you,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest. You smiled and huddled into his chest, “I love you more.”

[astracora]

Turning Point - Part 2

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability.

Word Count: 4260

Written: 3rd January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. You know I said 'sometime', turns out that was today. I have brainrot. Also, the birth of the group chat!

Now Playing: Hit the Ground, by if found

Masterlist AO3

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You absently stare into the bowl as Zayne sutures your wounds. His hands are steady now, that he has a task. You'd felt him trembling earlier, fingers colder than they normally were, against your skin. At odds with the almost fever you were running.

He's a familiar person to tend to you, you hadn't realised how uncomfortable you'd felt in a hospital without him. Other people putting your broken pieces back together again. Until you'd relaxed at his hands. You're not used to being seen fragile, you don't like it when Zayne sees you like that, but you dislike it even more when someone else sees it.

Though… you can see the others looking at you. Watching as you flinch, at each pass of the needle.

That need to run, to hide, lurks at your back. Trembling. You don't want to be weak for them. Xavier is your partner, he has to rely on you in a fight. You're Rafayel's bodyguard, who can he rely on if he's scared for you. Sylus is far too strong to look at your weakness, and see anything other than a pathetic little cat that's too much work. Zayne will eventually grow tired of helping you, of being there.

Seeing you like this, surely reminds them that you're too much work, that you're a waste of the effort they put into you. Reminds them how fragile the little fluttering organ is in your chest. Pushes you into an unappealing light. Spotlighting every ding and scratch and dent.

Rafayel had eased you through the motions to get clean, gently cleaning around your wounds. Ensuring Zayne could disinfect you, and tend to you. He had kept his face controlled. While you had barely wanted to look at his face, the lack of expression on him had made you peer into his eyes. Seeking out an explanation, information… anything. Desperate to understand what was going through your fish's mind.

Too scared to ask. In case he was disgusted, horrified… hated you. When he'd noticed you trying to catch his eyes, he'd turned towards you. Hand stiling, soap suds on his own skin, soaking through his white shirt. After a moment, his smile, small but familiar, had returned.

"Are you comfortable?"

It was a hard question to answer. You weren't sure you could ever be comfortable, not before, not now. Your body felt off, wrong. Twisted into shapes that didn't fit under your skin.

He ran the sponge gently down your arm, gentle circles against your skin. His other hand on your waist, carefully avoiding any injuries and bruises, thumb rubbing circles, putting pressure in a spot you could fixate on. The heat of his skin a familiar brand. Not unlike the brand that glowed on his neck.

You wanted to reach for his hand, but the limb that wasn't there couldn't move. It couldn't grasp him, and the choke in your throat startled him upright. Hand moving to your face, holding your cheek and grounding you. "It's ok cutie, it's ok." Pressing his forehead to yours and pressing a kiss to the side of your face, "I'm not going anywhere. You have this fishie for life, got it?"

The nod you offer back to him is weak and numb, but you find yourself nuzzling him, seeking him out, eyes closed so you don't have to worry about what you'll see in his eyes. Just what you feel in his hands. Hear in his words.

As Zayne finishes up his work, gently applying bandages to your now clean, freshly tended wounds, he exhales relief. Warm breath against your back, before helping you slip into an overly large button-up of Xavier's to keep warm.

You stare at the sleeve, empty and fallen against your side… you want to tear it off.

It's a violent, angry feeling. Vicious and snarling in your gut. Hissing.

Your hand reaches up, but you wince at the pull on your sutures, and it falls back down. Xavier reaches over, one hand soothing your fingers from where they've tensed into a claw, "Eat, Starlight." before he begins to roll the offending sleeve up. Rafayel hands him some of the bandage pins, and eventually it sits at your shoulder.

It's better. It's not perfect. It's better.

Even if it makes it harder to ignore.

You hesitantly reach for the spoon, lifting it, spilling some of the soup over onto the pillow you'd been clutching on your lap. You ignore it, hunger snapping, and focus on food. The food you haven't eaten since the hospital let you go. It doesn't take long before you're shoveling it into your mouth, hand shaking, and spilling down your chin, but finishing the bowl. Ravenous. You come close to licking the bowl clean, but it's taken away, and refilled before you can. So you resume feeding the beast in your stomach.

Finally, you are sated, and calmer. There is a mess on the pillow you can't even bear to think about cleaning, and you're licking at the mess that spilled down the spoon onto your hand. Before Sylus has a wet wipe in his own, wiping at your cheeks. Cleaning your chin. You blink up at him, his controlled expression. Nothing shining through his eyes, though he laughs a little, "Messy little kitten, aren't you?"

It should be embarrassing, you think it is. You know it should be. You aren't a child, you don't need tending to… but you're so tired, and already so full of emotions you can't name. Twisting around your heart. That this is the lowest concern for you.

If he was going to hate you for being messy, then it's just another thing he can find disappointing about you.

Rafayel laughs, and it sounds more like him, "I told you I make the best fish, cutie." You look over, seeing him watching you.

You feel naked under the adoration in beautiful eyes. Turning away, to look back at the others.

It's… odd seeing them all in your apartment, the little dumb part of your brain provides. It's definitely not big enough for five people. Zayne is next to you on the sofa, packing his tools away. Raffy is sat on the floor, legs crossed, he is playing with party fish in his lap. Squishing its cheeks. Xavier is leaning forwards against the table, arms crossed and chin resting on them, while he has his eyes focused on you. Sylus is leaning against the wall, he has opened the window, so Mephisto has settled on your lamp as a perch, and he flips a coin around his fingers.

You realise absently, that he's ready incase you need something, to move and grab it. Or to refill the bowl again.

When you finally manage to speak, it's a dumbfounded question, asked in a hoarse, sore voice, "When did you all meet?" It's not the most pressing issue, but you cannot seem to move forwards from the image of the four of them here.

Standing in front of you. Not… killing each other? Or at least, not trying to kill Sylus. Maybe they just didn't… know who he was. You'd only ever talked about him as Skye.

Zayne lets out a sigh, pushing his glasses up, and looks over at the others, "Today. Outside your door, except for Xavier, who I ran into when I was chasing up information about you at the Association."

"You have a lot of friends, cutie." Raffy pouts, resting his cheek on the top of party fish's body. "Here I was thinking I was your favourite fish."

It's not really a laugh that you respond with, but it's as close as you can get, "You're the only fish I know, Raffy, of course you're my favourite." His responding smile is soft, eyes wavering like flames, as he looks right at you. Happy to hear even a small bit of joy out of you.

"That needs explaining." Zayne looks over at Rafayel, an eyebrow raised, "Along with the Crown Prince, nonsense from earlier."

Xavier's shoulders jump and he pouts, "It's not important."

"What a terrible lie from a prince." Sylus purrs from where he stands, canines sharp and glinting.

"Says the crime lord."

"Excuse me?" Zayne's hand reaches out to pull you back and a little closer to him, eyes narrowing on both Xavier and Sylus now. "Skye is who?"

"Sylus, actually, dear doctor. Don't worry, I don't bite." His head tilts, looking at you with a smirk, "Unless I like you."

You jump, cheeks heating up a little, turning to look at Zayne who looks ever more like a headache is brewing, and his blood pressure is rising. "The leader of Onychinus… Didn't he try to kill you?"

"How cruel, I wasn't the one shooting the gun."

"What?"

You cover your face with one hand, rubbing at the space below your eyes, where strain is setting in. They notice the reaction, quietening down as you shrink back in on yourself. Tired, worn and aching.

"Take these." Zayne extends the medication you threw, as Sylus hands you a glass of water.

You want to throw them back. If you take them, it means you need them. It makes this reality.

You know that the fact they're seeing you, right now… like this, means its reality. It doesn't make it any easier.

Zayne takes your hand, firm, stable, and cool hand easing yours open, rubbing a circle into your palm with his thumb, before putting the tablets in it. Counted out properly. "Take them." It's as close to an order as you can get, and it's enough to make you ease them into your mouth, taking the glass from Sylus to wash the vile taste away. You almost sputter, but a warm hand gently eases the back of your neck. You see bright red eyes watching you, narrowing, as he helps you swallow.

You feel like you're staring into the abyss for a moment, before they melt into lava, and soften into concern. When he sees you're alright, he releases, but not before tracing your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"You should sleep, starlight." Xavier frowns, he looks like a sad rabbit, ears drooping. You want to reach over to pat his head, but your arm is sore and tight where the stitches pull. For a moment you look at the prosthetic where it sits on the table.

You'd spent this whole time ignoring it, like if you ignore it, it won't turn into a monster and rip you apart. It sits there, silver metal and black leather. The urge to throw it doesn't come back, which surprises you.

It doesn't look like a beast. Like a monster.

It's just a piece of technology, sitting there, staring at you.

"Or can you tell us what happened? If you don't want to sleep." Xavier adds. Watching where your gaze settles. He reaches out, hesitates, then pulls his hand back. Like he's scared to touch something that hurts you this way. Normally so willing to jump into danger for you, but this… it's a different kind of pain, he can't fight for you.

The offer is said softly. Your partner wasn't there when you got hurt, the guilt in his eyes, for not being there when you needed him most. You have to alleviate it.

He isn't to blame.

You are.

So you put the pillow aside, reaching for one that doesn't need cleaning, and pull it to your chest, needing something to hold to process. They watch as you do, and then you slowly speak.

Explain to them it was just another mission.

Metafluctuations, weak but present, in an old apartment building that was due for demolition. It was a quick check, if anything happened, you were to contact Tara. Hunters in the area ready to step in if it was worse than expected.

There were some knaves in the building, weak and easy to deal with, but too close to populated areas to be left alone. Once they had been dealt with, you checked for any other fluctuations. Nothing had stuck out, your resonance hadn't returned anything to be concerned about.

Until the Myst appeared, another of Ever's twisted tools, swinging its horrific battleaxe around the area, destroying everything in its path. You'd been surprised but you were capable, you'd sent the message to Tara. You'd been ready to fight, before the building shook, its foundations cracking, the walls falling in.

The ceiling falling down.

Debris raining down on top of you, and the framework of the building smashing down around you.

The Myst had gone to attack you, but the pain, the bloodloss, the metal pinning your arm had made you useless. Unable to protect yourself or fight back. You'd pulled against the metal, struggling, but too slowly.

You remember gunshots. Other hunters yelling, but that was when you'd blacked out. Relieved someone had reached you, stopped this monster from hurting anyone else.

If you were going to die, at least you knew one of Ever's tools wouldn't be out destroying more lives. Yours was an easy trade to make for that.

You'd woken up in hospital, arm already gone, wounds sutured, body bandaged. Numb to the world thanks to the anesthesia. Drifting in and out of tormented sleep. Remembering flames, and metal pinning you, as you watched it burn. Watching bones turn to ash, and skin ripping against the strain of your struggle.

You'd been sent home to rest when they thought it safe to let you go, giving you instructions for a psych eval, and the information for your physical therapy. Tara had brought you home, you'd felt numb and empty… but aware enough that you didn't want anyone else to know. No one else to see.

She's suggested calling people, you'd begged her not to. Limbs so weak she had to struggle to help you around. She'd brought you to the apartment, helped you get into bed, and asked if she could stay.

You'd promised to be fine, you'd call her. You promised you'd call her.

You were a liar. Just like Caleb. Promising when you'd wake up, you'd see him everyday.

You'd tried to sleep, you had, but it ached, everything ached, and you kept reaching for your phone with an arm that wasn't there. You kept trying to roll over, but pulling stitches.

The fabric on your bed began to itch and hurt, and bother every part of you. So you'd pulled yourself, heaving, nauseous and dizzy out of your bed. Falling to the floor, where you'd stayed, unwilling to struggle anymore. Not wanting to look at the world around you anymore.

Then they'd found you, a few days later. Exhausted, hurting and just existing in a space where you could only crave a release from it.

Dragging you back into the land of the living.

Zayne looked even more exhausted than he normally did, leaning back a little into the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. Sylus was watching you with a look that indicated he had a lot to say, and was unsure where to start, arms folded across his chest. Rafayel had slinked forward, and had placed his cheek against your lap, hand reaching up to hold onto your leg. Keeping you there, with him. Xavier hadn't stopped staring at you, his starry eyes had dimmed, losing the bright light in them, as he watched you.

Disappointed in you.

You'd messed up, and he'd realised.

Pity.

You were pitiful.

"You're alive." Zayne exhales, voice breaking, as he leans back forward. "You're alive, and that's what matters."

It surprises you. You're not sure why. Zayne has told you many times… all he wants is for you to be alive. That no matter what else, that is what matters. For you to be there, no matter what form you hold. To keep moving, to keep breathing, to keep living.

To live.

You'd teased him for having a low bar for happiness, and he'd smiled, that small but warm smile, looked at you and told you that with you, the happiness came from you being there.

It is a low bar, you suppose, but you are hunted, and hated by people whose faces you cannot even know. You have a job where you fight everyday, to protect others. You exist in a world where your heart could fail you, any moment.

To be alive, means you have not been defeated yet.

It is a low bar… but you suppose it is a starting point.

"I'm alive." You affirm, even though you feel fragile and broken and worthless. Even though you feel like you did all the way through your teen years. Waiting for Caleb to turn his back on you, stop caring for you. Think you are too much work.

You are alive, against all odds, and against anyone's attempts to change it.

Despite fate biting at your heels, to hold you back with thorned chains.

It's enough… maybe. For now.

Xavier stands as your head begins to droop, the days of struggle catching up with you. He crouches in front of you, "Can I please, take you to bed? You need to sleep, starlight." Your nod is unbidden, because truly you can't focus on anything now. The medication is working, and it is moments before you pass out.

The blood loss, the pain, the fear. You are a puppet whose strings are cut. Left in the hands of artisans who have mended broken parts.

"We'll be here when you wake up, cutie. Promise."

"Good night, kitten."

Warm arms lift you like you are a feather, pressed against familiar heat and scent, carried gently. Gliding. You barely register the blankets, but your bed is remade. It no longer smells metallic. As you're tucked in carefully, your lone hand grasps at Xavier, keeping him from pulling away. Scared to face the inevitable alone.

Scared to be alone.

No one there to help when you're at your lowest.

No matter how independent, no matter how long you've fought and moved forwards alone, you don't want to be alone now. When everything is crashing down, and you feel worthless.

"I'll stay." He promises, brushing your forehead, pressing a kiss there. Cool and calm, and tranquil. A starry sky you've stared at every day.

It is enough to push you to the edge, and down into the quiet.

—---

When Xavier reenters the room, he's yawning. Made tired by watching you fall into sleep himself.

He closes the door behind him, hearing hushed conversation and approaches the living room. This time everyone is sitting, even Sylus. Who has settled somewhat since you had left the room, no longer on guard. No longer waiting to appease a desire. Any desire.

"Let me get this straight, you're a lemurian… as well as a famous artist-"

"I'm actually more insulted you don't know my art at all, doc." Rafayel pouts, tightening his grip on party fish. There's the small look in his eye like he wants to throw it at the other man's head, but reigns in the urge. Like a cat debating knocking a glass off the table, but getting caught.

Zayne sighs, and continues, "You're the crown prince of Philos, who… traveled back in time?" He turns to look at Xavier, who settles himself into some of the cushions you kept in the living room for gaming with him.

Xavier shrugs, unconcerned with the title, he hasn't held it after all for a very long time, "I'm just Xavier."

The doctor rubs his eyes again, hesitating on the edge of just walking out. If it weren't for the figure in the other room, sleeping through the pain. This time he looks at Sylus, who is leaning back in a chair like a king, arms crossed and head tilted back. "And you?"

"I'm just Sylus." The man teases, flashing canines that shouldn't be as sharp as they are. "I just happen to run the N109 Zone."

"Right. The natural enemy of the Hunter's Association, and the people who wanted the core in their heart."

"You can mistrust me if you like doctor, but kitten is in no danger from me."

"Hard to believe."

"Well, the best things often are." It sounds like a jest, but for a second the man's eyes soften. Looking for a second at the closed door before they sharpen into gems again, "But whether you believe it or not, I'm here for them."

The doctor looks at Xavier, who barely reacts, face downturned, buried in pillows, he can already tell what question is coming.

Don't you have anything to say?

Can he be trusted?

"Does it matter?" Xavier manages, his finger pointing at the little crow charm on the man's phone, "They trust him."

Zayne and Rafayel both look, then at their own phones. A tiny snowman and a little fish.

Xavier knows his own sports a little star.

Mishapen and messy, made with Tara on an outing you and her had gone on, eager to keep the other hunter company for things. Hungry for friendship.

Companionship.

Connection.

Rafayel groans, leaning back on his hands, legs stretching out, "Cutie makes all the worst friends."

Sylus scoffs, "Friends."

Agitation makes the fish glare, eyes narrowing, and this time the plushie flies at Sylus, who catches it in his EVOL with a laugh. Gently placing it down, so he doesn't damage something you value. "Stupid crow."

"Calm down fish, someone will think you're steamed and take a bite."

No one misses the small blush over the man's ears at Sylus' purr, which just makes the man laugh a little more.

"Well, if no one is leaving-" Xavier starts, yawns, and then forces himself to sit up a little to continue, "we should figure out what to do. Otherwise this will happen again."

Rafayel shrinks, "I've never seen cutie like that. They're always so…" his sigh carries the weight of years he can't share, and he shakes purple hair like he's trying to shed the memories, "strong."

"The strong can't always be strong." Sylus offers, turning a coin in his fingers again, staring off out the window.

Zayne hums his assent, "They need to go to physical therapy, pick themselves back up again. Adjust, as hard as it will be. I can attend their therapy sessions when available, moral support can make the difference between failure and success for some."

"I can help around the house, visit them. I'm just upstairs after all."

"They'll need to eat, and get out of the apartment. See people." Sylus adds, he pulls out his phone, typing a message to Luke and Kieran to prepare a replacement for the door. Sooner than possible.

"I suppose between us we can make sure this works."

"You want us to work together?"

Zayne sighs, "As much as the idea of asking a wanted man-"

Xavier laughs under his breath, but doesn't explain. He does think about the three wanted posters, however.

"for assistance, taking care of someone important to me, I would rather have all of our bases covered, and then to have a wider support system in place. Unless anyone has any objections?"

There's nothing, just a quiet accord between four people. Thinking about the room near them, full of something precious. Worth protecting.

"I suppose we've got a deal, doctor." Sylus nods, standing, "I'll be back in a little while to fix the door. Until then I'll move some things around so I'm more available."

Rafayel hops up, "I'll be right back, I'll grab my current project so I can work from here. Maybe some…" he looks about, "extra blankets."

While Xavier wants nothing more than to sleep, to sit at the door to guard it, to keep watch. The fridge is empty, the bandages have run low, and he wants to look around the area. Wary, on edge. Worrying that Ever have lurked too close.

So he pushes himself up, removing himself from pillows that smell of you, and heads to the door too, "Grocery shop." He offers, through another yawn.

As people filter out, Zayne leans back into the sofa, before rising and heading over to the bedroom. Quiet and careful, he checks on his favourite patient. Though he desperately wishes he didn't need to be your doctor. Didn't need to stitch up torn skin, bandage wounds. Watch you suffer. It tugs at his heart, watching you force yourself ahead.

Rafayel was right. You'd never shown anything other than strength to them. Fighting through injuries, being reckless if it meant protecting others. Taking on mission after mission. He thinks the only time you've relied on them, is when there's no fight to be had.

Relaxing in your personal time, as rare as it is. He's seen you injured, of course, and at your checkups for your heart. But you've always met those with jokes that belittle the seriousness of the situation. A readiness to make light of pain. He has never seen you crumble, hurting and wounded. In a way you don't just bounce back from, because you can still fight injured.

As he strokes your head, gentle and careful not to wake you, he is both aching and relieved. That you'd finally lowered part of your mask, but that it took such pain to do so.

They've at least owned a door for you to step through, easier if someone is waiting on the other side…

Even if the most wanted man on earth had broken it open…

That's going to take some getting used to.