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xiaowhore · 23 days ago

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equivalent exchange.

DRAFT. this fic is incomplete, as i've stated in this post. this has been sitting in the dungeon for a while, and i have no plans to finish them, but i posted these drafts to not let them go to waste. it is up to you if you still want to read them regardless of their incompletion :) i will be writing my original ideas for the fic at the end so you guys will have an idea of what the fic was supposed to be like.

premise. when ayato stumbles upon a drafted resignation letter on your desk, he doubles his efforts to show you the perquisites of staying by his side.

he doesn't want to lose a competent subordinate. that's all there is to it.

note. what's wrong with secretary kim au but it's definitely not the same because i stopped watching at episode 5 and have no idea what happened. anyways i think we were all expecting a ceo!ayato x secretary!reader fic at some point so here it is. (couldn't keep this gender neutral for plot reasons, so feminine pronouns were used.)

Kamisato Ayato considers himself a good boss.

Or as far as things go, he's a decent one. He treats his employees well, takes them to expensive restaurants for company dinners, and discourages overtime so they can head off early for the night. He doesn't care much for formalities, and he gets along with his colleagues fairly well. He's never heard anyone talk behind his back or complain about his attitude at work, and there aren't any rumors spreading about him (if he turns a blind eye to the conspiratorial gossip guessing his relationship status).

But he does have minor faults. Like showing a more mischievous side when work hours are over. Getting Thoma dead drunk during dinners because his half-conscious inebriated talking is a form of amusement, or riling up Itto in drinking games just because it's funny. Then he leaves Sara to clean up the mess for him, since Yae seems to enjoy the comedy sketch as thoroughly as he does and probably won't lift a finger to help even if he asked her to.

As his assistant, you're prone to falling victim to his shenanigans, silly stunts that coax out aggravated eye rolls and sighs of exasperation. Years of experience eventually shaped you up to be entirely immune to April Fools' pranks.

He's in the middle of planning another one when he spots a letter of resignation on your desk.

At first, he thinks it's your rebellious phase arriving a decade late. He always found it odd how you never retaliated against his tricks, and this may just be the long-awaited April Fools' prank of vengeance. If it is, it's particularly mean of you—Ayato does have feelings, you know? Even he would feel hurt if you told him you wanted to leave! You shouldn't take this kind of thing lightly!

Then he remembers you aren't the type to make jokes, April Fools' or otherwise, and it's that moment when he feels (proper) fear.

“[Name] wants to resign?!”

Ayato makes a zipping motion and Thoma's shrieks immediately die down, but the disbelief on his face has yet to wane. His brows scrunch together, brain hard at work in processing this piece of information, though it seems to short-circuit in utter confusion from the sudden blow.

Scandalized, Thoma lowers his head and levels his voice to a hushed whisper, “Are you sure you saw it correctly?”

“I have able eyes. Unfortunately, my optometrist confirmed my perfect vision and assured I saw it just fine.” Woe is he.

“Get them checked again.”

“No matter how much I check, it won't change the results, Thoma.”

“We don't know that for sure, sir!”

“Trust me,” Ayato deadpans, looking off into the distance, “I checked with him thrice.”

Defeated, Thoma leans back to his chair, crossing his arms while deep in thought. “You saw the letter, but she didn't turn it in, did she?”

“She didn't. No e-mail, either.” Ayato taps the table in a mindless rhythm, expression stern but the shape of his lips almost resembling a pout. “Do you have any idea why she'd want to resign?”

Thoma rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Is that a genuine question, sir?”

Ayato's head snaps back to look at his companion. “Why wouldn't it be?”

“...Everyone in the office knows you... tease her for your own amusement.”

“It's my way of showing affection.” The corners of his lips curl up, stretching to a twisted smile as he rests his cheek on his palm. “Isn't she just so adorable when she gets angry?”

“You really do have a rotten personality.”

Ayato waves his hand in a noncommittal response. “We're straying off topic. What should we do next?”

Thoma hums, closed fist beneath his chin. “Since she hasn't turned in the letter yet, that means she must be hesitating. For what reason, we don't know, but it's keeping her here. So before she makes up her mind, we should dissuade her from quitting no matter what.”

Ayato laces his fingers together, brow in an inquisitive arch. “And we do that by?”

Green eyes sparkle with tenacity, clashing with blue irises twinkling in intrigue. “We bribe her, sir. It's time to show off your good points.”

“If a woman quits her job, what do you think her reasons could be?”

Ayaka blinks owlishly at her brother, taken aback by the abrupt question. It's a sudden thing to ask, especially odd given how their conversation hasn't led to that topic at all. “Did someone resign? I haven't heard anything of the sort, though.”

Ayato shakes his head, stirring the boba tea in his hands. “It's a hypothetical.”

Which means it's real.

Ah, whatever. At least he didn't go for the “my friend...” excuse.

Ayaka warily cuts a portion of her cake, scrutinizing each microexpression flashing on Ayato's face. It's one of their weekly lunch meetings, squeezed between hectic schedules, and they more or less have a silent agreement to avoid discussions involving work if they could help it. But this time, he brought it up himself.

How peculiar.

“Perhaps she wants to change workplaces? If she's exemplary, she might have been offered a better position or higher pay.”

Ayato nearly scoffs at the suggestion. The company, old-fashioned as it is, can only be inherited by a direct line of descendants. Outsiders can only go so far, and being the secretary for the chief executive officer isn't bad at all. Last time he checked, he's been paying you generously as well—how many figures was it? Six?

“Oh!” Ayaka exclaims, holding up a finger as she seems to have figured out something. “Or maybe she wants to settle down and get married? If her work is keeping her occupied, she'll most likely take time off to find a husband.”

Ayato proceeds to choke on a tapioca pearl.

“Or she got married and wants to be a housewife-”

“That's quite enough, Ayaka.”

Ayato would rather believe the Earth is flat.

If Ayato were any less desperate, perhaps he would have rationalized that putting together “give her what she wants to make her stay” and “she wants to get married” is a bad, bad idea.

Unfortunately for him, he is grasping at straws, so it leaves him no choice. Yes. Definitely. There is no other option than this, obviously.

(He does not delve deeper into the reason why he doesn't want you to leave, nor does he dwell any longer on why he was so quick to think he was fine with getting married if it was to you.)

“Don’t you want to get married soon, Ms. [Surname]?”

To clarify, Ayato does not spy on other people's conversations for a hobby, but he's always had impeccable timing. It comes with the job.

He stands by the door, reaching for the doorknob to the break room, but the mention of your name forces him to a halt.

“Why are you asking me that...?” You awkwardly dodge the question, sipping on your coffee. “I suppose I am at that age, though.”

“So you do want to!” The squeal rings with a note of glee, a stark contrast to Ayato's gradually dimming mood. “Wouldn't it be nice to marry a good man? I'm sure even you have thought of it at some point! Are you seeing anyone, then? Anyone you can imagine yourself marrying?”

“No, not yet.”

Before Ayato can even heave a relieved sigh, you follow with, “But my mother is making me go on dates to see people. Said if I didn't bring home a man soon, she'd come all this way to drag me back by my ear and introduce me to her friend's son.”

“Ah, I get that...” Your friend replies emphatically, nodding. “But those kind of meetings hardly go well. And you can't exactly tell your mother's friend you don't find her son attractive, right?”

“Why not just marry Mr. Kamisato, then?” Another one pipes up, to which Ayato gives a mental salute of appreciation. “You spend most of your time together. If you're not married to your job, then you're practically married to him.”

A cackle sends his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Not a chance.”

Can you at least expound why?!

“Huh? Why not? I mean, Mr. Kamisato is on another realm of existence and I can never hope to be on the same level as him, but you look good together!”

Your face pinches to a tight frown. “Look good together? In what way?”

“When you stand side by side, it just looks... right. And like I've mentioned earlier, you spend all your time with him. Why not seal the deal?”

“Mr. Kamisato is reliable, and if you marry him, you're set for life. He's handsome too, and we've all seen his muscles at our company sports day a few months ago!”

“I've never been so thankful for team-building events. Hallelujah.”

Ayato's face burns in embarrassment hearing the dreamy sighs. Even if they think there isn't anyone else listening on them (which is false), shouldn't they exert some restraint at work?

“Please don't lust over my boss,” you assert sternly, voice ice cold. “And we have a strictly professional relationship. So don't get any weird ideas from here on out, alright?”

“Fine. Tell me that again when I'm invited at your wedding, I dare you.”

“I said-”

They wave off your vehement protests at the statement. “Then if you're not into Mr. Kamisato, what do you plan to do?”

Ayato perks up, straining his ears in rapt attention.

“...I'm going on a date this weekend,” you sigh, rubbing circles on your temples. “I'll let you know how it goes.”

Oh no.

“-Dinner was nice. We didn't expect the rain shower, but he ran to the convenience store across the street to buy an umbrella because he didn't want me to get wet on the way to the car. He said it would be a waste if my hair got ruined since I-”

Slurp.

“...Styled it for the occasion. Then he drove me home. I found out we liked the same band from the music he played, and we agreed to-”

Sluuurp.

“-Go to their upcoming concert together. Then we somehow also like the same novel that's getting a movie adaption soon, so we also promised to see it-”

Sluuuuuuuuuuuuuurp.

“Could you please refrain from making noise when eating, sir?”

Ayato decidedly does not comply and only slurps his boba tea harder, nearly choking on a tapioca pearl yet again.

As always, you learn to ignore him.

“Concert... and a movie. I'm not sure about the concert, but the film you're talking about is the one coming out in the next two months, right?” Thoma confirms, sweating when Ayato's expression turns visibly grim. “You plan to see him for that long...?”

“Even if dating doesn't work out, we can always become friends, can't we?” You shrug, taking a bite out of your sandwich. “He seems like a nice guy. We get along really well, considering we've only met once. I ended up agreeing to a second date-”

The passive-aggressive slurping persists for the following afternoon.

“I've been meaning to ask for a while,” Thoma treads carefully, noticing Ayato's rapid-fire typing—no, striking—on the keyboard, “Ms. [Surname] is good at her job, but you seem really... eager to make her stay, sir.”

Ayato's fingers halt in their movement, and he takes a second to flash his business smile. “Of course. She's a valuable asset, and I'd be foolish to let her go.”

“Yes, I'm well aware, but...” Thoma scratches his cheek, looking off to the side. “You didn't go to such lengths when your former assistants resigned from their post. Or, uh... you fired most of them.”

“Yes,” Ayato simply agrees, still smiling, “she's competent. You don't find anyone like her easily, so it's only natural I'd want her to stay.”

“What do you mean by 'anyone like her,' sir?”

Thoma is awfully talkative today. Ayato might need to feed him something spicy to shut him up.

“Ms. [Surname] is special.” The words smoothly leave his lips. “Does anyone else have the meetings and company events scheduled for the next month memorized? She's the only one I can count on for work matters.”

Thoma's shoulders slump. “Okay, let me get straight to the point. Do you-”

“Mr. Kamisato?”

Thoma nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of your voice, accompanied by the clack of your heels.

“What is it?” The cold smile on his face finally melts to something more genuine, softer around the edges and looking especially radiant. It's welcoming, like your arrival counts as a joyous occasion, and he is exponentially more attentive compared to the way he lent Thoma half his ear (the other preoccupied with a phone call, which he swiftly ends the moment you walk in).

“I came to deliver some files from Ms. Miko... did I interrupt something?” You gesture to Thoma standing idly by the side, dumbfounded from Ayato's inconceivable behavior.

“Not at all. Is there anything else?” Ayato accepts the documents, noticing your hesitance to leave.

“Ah, yes, I will be asking for time off tomorrow.”

That's... rare?

But it's not a hard request. Ayato's own schedule is blank for the most part, since the latest project wrapped up not too long ago, and the workload is lighter than usual. Missing one work day won't do any harm.

“It's fine, but could I ask why?”

You fidget, tentative as you reply, “I was invited... for a trip on a cruise. He insisted I come since his friend bailed on him and the tickets would go to waste.”

The warmth in his eyes freezes over.

“The tickets would go to waste...” Ayato repeats under his breath, mockingly cruel. The tone flies past your head but it hits Thoma full-force, making him sweat profusely.

Distasteful. An utter disgrace of a man. The magnitude of his ignorance is so awe-inspiring, I have to applaud. I must give credit where it is due, and the foolishness of this clown is truly impressive. “The tickets will go to waste,” he says? His money must worth more to him than his dignity. Inviting Ms. [Surname] to a date on a workday with no regard for her schedule is one thing, but making her out to be an afterthought as a substitute for his original travel partner is another. How shameful. This is no way to treat a lady. If Ayaka were to be with a man of his caliber, I would never allow it.

But what he says outloud is of course, “I see. I hope you have fun, then.”

Corporate events are, for the most part, adequately entertaining.

Preparing for it is not.

But the worst part isn't even brainstorming themes, or finding an appropriate venue, or planning the logistics, or writing the guest list.

It's choosing what to wear.

Actually, the cause for Ayato's headache isn't even what attire he'll go with. It's yours.

“That looks wonderful,” Yae praises, looking at the picture on your phone. It displays a silver necklace, a tear drop topaz encased in a diamond twist. It pairs well with the dress you bought with Ayaka last week, an elegant fit that accentuated your curves.

However.

“He chose that for you, didn't he?”

The stoic line of Ayato's mouth twitches and his eyes can't help but sweep over your screen, scrutinizing each grainy pixel.

Though he has plenty of insults prepared at his arsenal, he can't find anything to nitpick about. Damn it. It's a good choice.

“You'll look stunning,” Kokomi assures good-naturedly, smiling in delight. Ayato does not doubt that will be the case, but he's sure he would be in a foul mood the entire night if he were to see you adorning it.

He has already retrieved his coffee from the break room so he excuses himself to his office, long strides that lead him out of earshot.

As a result, he doesn't hear the following conversation.

“Why this, though?” Kokomi asks, looking closely at the accessory. “It's a simple design. Doesn't look like something a man would pick from the rest.”

You shake your head. “I just told him I wanted something blue, and I couldn't choose myself because there were too many that caught my eye...”

“Blue?” She echoes, a simple curiosity. “Why blue?”

“...It's a pretty color.”

It is an actual coincidence that Ayato runs into you in the middle of shopping.

You're hunched over a display stand showcasing a variety of earrings, deep in thought as you observe each one. You're doing that thing where you scrunch your nose in concentration, a habit Ayato doesn't think you even realize you have.

“Fancy meeting you here, Ms. [Surname].”

(He wonders what face you would've made if he said “You go here often?” instead. Probably some degree of disgust.)

You blink, correcting your posture and nodding in greeting. You don't look particularly thrilled to see him, but at least you're unbothered by the prospect of seeing your boss on a free day. “You're here to shop too, Mr. Kamisato?”

Ayato smiles amicably. “I am. Were you planning to buy earrings?”

“Yes, but...” Your gaze returns to the display, your own smile faltering. “It is a bit difficult to choose.”

He walks over, scanning the variety up and down. “Is it really? You only need to choose a pair that matches your necklace, right?” He focuses on shades of silver, bypassing the vibrant colors of reds and pinks. Not even fifteen seconds later, he picks out a card and holds it out next to your ear. “This one looks nice on you.”

“Huh? Really?” Perhaps surprised by his swiftness, it takes you a moment to react accordingly. You take the card from his hands and flip it over, eyes widening by a fraction. “Oh. It is rather pretty.” Then they widen further as big as saucers. “I can't say the same for the price tag, though.”

“Hm? What price tag?”

He plucks the earrings from your hands, walks to the counter, and pays for it without a second thought.

“M-Mr. Kamisato?”

“Pull up your hair.”

“Eh? Oh, okay.”

You're so caught off guard that you unwittingly do as he says, tucking your hair back obediently and still processing the last two minutes.

His fingers tug at your ear, warmth bleeding to your skin, and by the time you return to reality, he's already putting the earrings on you.

STORY FLOW.

ok i lied i actually can't remember shit about this fic so i will be making up stuff as i go lol

what i do remember clearly is that the resignation notice that ayato found on your desk is years old. you meant to submit it way, way back when ayato was tougher on you, and you weren't as well-adjusted as you are now to the job yet. as stated in the fic, being ayato's secretary is no easy task—he'd fired countless people he thought was incompetent.

you fought a number of times, and you didn't know if you could keep up working for a man you thought was simply incompatible with you (in terms of being colleagues/partners).

but over time, you learned to work together. ayato acknowledged your efforts and hard work, and you knew ayato had been trying to give you less jobs to reduce your workload, but you were going to prove that hou could handle it.

what truly made you appreciate ayato more was when you got stranded at the train station. you dealt with a far company they collaborated with, but work ended later than expected, and you'd missed the last train home. taxis were an option, but youd have to go through several of them to get back. right when you were thinking of checking into a hotel, ayato informed you he was already on his way and drove a couple of hours to get where you were to bring you home.

time continued to pass, and that brings us back to the present. you were on the process of cleaning up your desk and left the old resignation notice out in the open by accident, which led to ayato seeing it.

it is very apparent to the others that you two like each other, but the involved parties themselves are unaware of it. you currently aren't eager to get married, but you were trying to meet people so your parents would stop bugging you about still being single.

anyway, ayato bought those earrings for you. timeskip to the corporate event. you unconsciously picked a blue motif for your outfit because it reminds you of ayato.

when you get there, surprise, surprise. the man you were meeting, kazuha is a bigwig, heir to some other corporation. he actually owned that cruise he invited you to and pretended he didn't because you might be intimidated. ayato didn't think the kazuha he knew and the kazuha you knew were the same person, and now the advantage he had over him was ruled out (i.e being rich). (actually while i was rereading i was surprised i didn't mention that it was kazuha...? istg i was imagining him the whole time i wrote about him)

anyhow, as it became later in the night, ayato wanted to get you home before kazuha could offer to drive you back or worse, spend the night with him. ayato acted drunk so you'd tend to him and accompany him home while his driver was in charge of taking you to his apartment. as you were nagging at him, he compared your interactions with him to yours and kazuha's. you were certainly nicer to that man. smiled at him a lot more, too. did you really like him that much?

if you did, could he let you go?

he was ashamed that he couldn't answer it right away. as if he had any right to whatever you do.

you carried him to bed when you got to his apartment, but when you were preparing to leave, he hugged you from behind. do you like that man? why do you want to leave me? why can't it be me? ayato was just pretending to be drunk, but he felt dizzy now, soaked in your scent. he said things that he wasn't supposed to. things that he couldn't take back. things that would change your relationship forever.

slowly, you took away the hands wrapped around your waist. ayato figured that was a message of rejection.

but then you pushed him back down on the bed and you straddled his lap. his mind was silent for but a few seconds before he started screaming mentally.

i've always wanted you, but i knew it was impossible. you have a fiancee. i'm an ordinary worker. your family won't accept me. ayato's mind was in a daze because your face was so close to his, and all he could see was the red, glossy shade on your lips, but he managed to hear those few sentences.

it doesn't matter. nothing else matters. i can't marry if it's not you. if you accept me, i swear i'll make you happy.

from here on, it could be a happy, fluffy ending where turns out, you were tipsy so you were more honest with him and you fell asleep in the middle of kissing so he took it upon himself to change your dress into something more comfortable and end the night with a forehead kiss...

...or you could continue what you were doing and the first thing ayato takes off is the damned necklace so he could replace it with a smattering of hickeys. your choice ^^

#genshin impact #genshin impact ayato #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #ayato imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #ayato x you #for those worried about kazuha dw about it he doesn't want to get married either lol

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fangdokja · 14 days ago

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The sweetest kisses are often the most dangerous.

❤︎ Synopsis. Your best friend has always been your safe haven—until his touch lingers too long, his words drip with unspoken threats, and you realize too late that safety was never part of his plan.

♡ Book. World Ablaze (WA): For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Light Yagami x Fem. Reader

♡ Novella. In the Name of Love - Part 2

♡ Word Count. 7,794

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, abandonment issues, angst + tragedy, gaslighting

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

♡ A/N. This is a request, but I have not yet fulfilled the full request (hence the lack of proof of request). This turned out better than I thought it would. No explicit stuff yet, but the subtly of it? Yeahh.

Once you finally became of age, it brought with it a new set of challenges—and some old, familiar dynamics. Light Yagami, your self-proclaimed best friend and eternal tormentor, had somehow grown into the golden child of your school. Teachers adored him, parents praised him, and students—especially the girls—flocked to him like moths to a flame.

You, on the other hand, remained firmly in your lane. A slacker by nature and a ‘loser’ by reputation, you floated through school just barely scraping by. Your grades hovered just above the failing mark, your desk was perpetually cluttered, and your teachers sighed in resignation every time you turned in a half-finished worksheet.

“How are you two even friends?” became a question whispered in every corner of the school.

———

Light, of course, handled his popularity with the effortless charm he’d always had. Girls left love notes in his locker, baked him cookies, and blushed when he smiled their way. He’d already received more confessions than most people would in a lifetime.

“Another one?” you’d ask flatly whenever he showed you a new letter, scrawled in pink ink and dotted with hearts.

“They’re very persistent,” he’d say with a smirk, tucking the letter away. “You jealous?”

“Not even remotely,” you replied, your attention already back on the handheld game console in your lap. “Have fun with your fan club, Your Highness.”

———

For a while, Light balanced his new relationships with his time spent with you. He’d date the occasional girl, give her his full attention for a while, then inevitably move on when the novelty wore off.

“Why do you even bother?” you asked once, sprawled on the grass during one of your cloud-watching sessions.

“Because it’s good practice,” he replied matter-of-factly, hands tucked behind his head as he stared at the sky.

“Practice?”

“For social dynamics,” he explained. “Understanding how people think, what they want, and how to navigate their expectations. It’s useful.”

“You sound like a robot,” you said, unimpressed.

Light smirked. “You’re just mad I’m right.”

———

When the girls dragged him away, as they often did, you were left to your own devices. You didn’t mind—at least, that’s what you told yourself. It wasn’t like you’d ever been the center of attention, anyway. Loneliness wasn’t new to you; it was just an old companion that came and went as it pleased.

You filled the time with your usual distractions: gaming, reading, cloud watching, and sketching mindless doodles in the margins of your notebooks. Sometimes, you’d overhear whispers about Light and his admirers, but you tuned them out.

“Why don’t you go after him?” someone asked you once, their tone half-curious, half-mocking.

You didn’t even look up. “Because I’m not an idiot.”

———

Despite the distance his popularity sometimes created, Light always found his way back to you. When the crowds cleared and the noise died down, it was the two of you again—two opposites bound by years of shared history.

One evening, as you both sat in your room playing video games, he glanced over at you and said, “You’re not mad about the other girls, right?”

“Why would I be mad?” you replied, not taking your eyes off the screen. “You’re Light Yagami, the golden child. Go do your thing. I’m good.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, with a small smirk, he said, “You’re impossible, you know that?”

You grinned. “Takes one to know one.”

No matter how far his orbit expanded, Light always seemed to come back to you. And though you’d never say it out loud, you were glad he did.

────────────

From Light Yagami’s perspective, life was predictable—and predictably successful. He was the golden child, the perfect student, the center of admiration. People hung on his every word, sought his approval, and envied his effortless excellence. For the most part, it was satisfying. Life unfolded as it should, meticulously planned and executed.

But then there was you.

His so-called best friend, the antithesis of everything he represented. Lazy, unmotivated, and perpetually on the fringes of mediocrity. Despite your differences, you were always there—silent, sarcastic, yet strangely dependable in a way he couldn’t quite define. It wasn’t something he thought about too often. You were just…you.

Until the day he noticed you staring.

———

It was during lunch, an ordinary afternoon where Light was half-listening to the chatter of his friends while methodically organizing his notes for the next class. His focus should’ve been on the conversation, but his gaze flickered to you, seated a few tables away as usual.

You were always in the corner, avoiding attention, engrossed in some book or game. But today, your attention wasn’t on the usual distractions. It was on him.

Not Light. Not one of his admirers. No, your focus was fixed on a scrawny, nervous wreck of a kid seated a few tables over.

The boy was all sharp angles and awkward movements, perpetually hunched over as though trying to shrink into himself. Light recognized him vaguely—a shy, nerdy kid who tripped over his own words whenever called upon. Nothing remarkable.

Yet, you watched him.

Not with mockery or disdain, but with something quieter, more intent. You weren’t laughing, whispering, or rolling your eyes like most people would. You just…observed.

It unsettled Light in a way he couldn’t immediately place.

———

Later, as he packed his bag and prepared for the next class, Light’s thoughts returned to that scene. He prided himself on his ability to read people, to predict their behavior and motivations. And yet, he had no explanation for your interest in that boy.

He brushed it off initially. What did it matter? You were free to stare at whoever you wanted.

But the image lingered, uninvited, in his mind: the distant look in your eyes, the way your usually indifferent demeanor softened just slightly.

He frowned, closing his notebook with a bit more force than necessary.

———

The following week, he started paying more attention. It was subtle—Light was nothing if not discreet—but he kept you in his peripheral vision whenever he could.

And there it was again.

That same quiet, almost contemplative look as you glanced at the boy in question.

Light found himself growing irritated, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. It wasn’t like he cared who you watched. You had your own life, and he had his.

So why did it bother him?

———

He thought back to the countless times he’d teased you about being jealous of his popularity, the playful smirk on his face as he’d waved off another confession or accepted a gift from yet another admirer. You never cared. Not once.

It had been mildly disappointing, in retrospect. He’d thought it might get a rise out of you, but you never so much as flinched.

Yet here you were, paying attention to some no-name boy like he was the most fascinating thing in the world.

Light’s fingers tightened around the strap of his bag. It didn’t make sense.

Not yet, at least. But Light Yagami didn’t like questions without answers.

He decided then and there that he’d find out what had caught your attention—and why it left him feeling so uncharacteristically unsettled.

────────────

Light never let himself get too attached to anything, at least not to the point where it would affect his plans. He had control over his emotions—he had to. And yet, as he watched you sit with Ethan, that crack in his composed facade began to form, slowly but surely.

It was subtle at first. The boy, Ethan, always seemed to be at the edges of Light's awareness, always there when Light was distracted by his admirers or lost in his own thoughts. But this was different.

You didn’t just sit with him. You spent time with him. You helped him with his homework. You joked around with him in the way you never did with anyone else. You went out of your way to keep him company at lunch, when no one else would. You, who had always kept your distance, kept your circle small—yet now you were investing time in him of all people.

And Light hated it.

There was no reason for it. It didn’t make sense. Ethan wasn’t even someone worth considering. He was shy, weak, and socially awkward. Everything about him screamed mediocrity, the kind of person who would never stand out, never make anything of themselves. So why? Why were you helping him? Why were you treating him like he mattered?

Light had always been the one to push you, to help you improve, to get you to rise above your own mediocrity. He'd worked tirelessly to shape you, to make you better. And now, here you were, giving that same attention—your valuable attention—to someone who didn’t even deserve it.

But then, as he continued to observe you two from the sidelines, the truth started to unfold, albeit in a way that made him recoil. He couldn’t stop it from clicking into place. You didn’t see Ethan for what he was now. You saw him for what you used to be.

He reminded you of yourself.

The realization hit Light like a wave. You hadn’t always been the person you were today—motivated, sharp, and at least somewhat capable. No, you’d been the same kind of outcast Ethan was now. Alone. Invisible.

And you saw a part of yourself in him, that small, quiet echo of who you used to be.

You wanted to help him. You had to help him.

Light would have expected a feeling of satisfaction, even a touch of flattery. After all, you cherished your experiences with Light enough to want to help someone like Ethan, someone who reminded you of the person Light had pulled you from. But it didn’t feel like that. It didn’t feel warm or appreciative. It felt... cold. It felt harsh and bitter, like the sting of jealousy he’d never fully acknowledged before.

Why? Why was it this way? Why didn’t he feel proud that you were helping someone who could never repay you?

He hated it. He hated how it made him feel, how his thoughts twisted and spiraled into something darker.

———

Light tried to keep himself composed, but it was becoming more difficult. As the days passed, and he saw more of you with Ethan, that unease continued to eat at him. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but it was growing harder to ignore.

If he confronted you about it, it would mean acknowledging something he wasn’t ready to face. Something he couldn’t process. He wanted to think it was just about Ethan. But deep down, Light knew it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t about the boy at all. It was about you—and the way you were slipping further away from him.

He was jealous.

It was ridiculous. He of all people, jealous of someone like Ethan?

But he couldn’t ignore it. It hurt.

So, he buried it. He buried it like everything else—like the ambition he’d always kept under wraps, like grand plans where he couldn’t afford to falter. He buried it deep down, pretending it didn’t bother him, pretending that you could still be his, that your attention was his, even as you drifted to someone else.

There were moments when he almost confronted you, asked you why you were so hell-bent on helping someone so insignificant, but he held back. Instead, he bit his tongue, letting the resentment simmer inside, like a serpent coiling around his thoughts.

It was a feeling he couldn’t quite place, but one he couldn’t escape. And for once in his life, he hated not having control over it.

────────────

It had been a month, a whole month, of Light trying his best to suppress the gnawing frustration and resentment. On the surface, life carried on as usual—he kept up his studies, dated other people, spent time with you, pretended everything was fine. It was routine. Everything was routine. But underneath, something had shifted. Something that made everything feel hollow.

He’d watched Ethan grow in confidence, all because of you. He couldn’t deny it. Ethan had improved significantly—he spoke up more, stood taller, even started getting more attention from others. And Light hated it. Hated how he had been replaced, how your attention, once reserved for him, was now shared with Ethan.

You didn’t even notice, though. You were too absorbed in your "little project," as you called it. You genuinely wanted to help Ethan, and it was clear to everyone, Light included, that you had. You were kind to him in a way you had never been with anyone else, and though it made Light’s stomach churn, he couldn’t argue with the results. Ethan had gone from an anxious, nervous wreck to someone who could hold a conversation, someone who felt like he had a place in the world.

But all of that—the improvement, the attention, the support—it was nothing compared to the point of no return.

The moment it all cracked open for Light was when he saw Ethan, of all people, trying to kiss you. Trying to confess to you. In that moment, every bit of control Light had over his emotions snapped. All of the jealousy, all of the uncertainty, the fear that he might lose you to someone else, came crashing down in a split second.

Ethan had moved closer to you, his hand reaching out toward your face. You were looking at him in that quiet, gentle way you always did when you were being supportive, completely unaware of how things had changed. Light’s heart raced, his chest tight, suffocating with a mix of jealousy and... something deeper. Something he couldn’t ignore anymore.

Without thinking, he moved. He didn’t care how it looked, didn’t care that it would make him seem possessive or irrational. He couldn’t let this go any further. Not now, not when he hadn’t even had the chance to process it himself.

“Hey,” Light’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tension between you and Ethan. His hand shot out to grab Ethan’s wrist before it could get any closer. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Ethan recoiled slightly, a mix of confusion and disappointment flashing across his face. You looked between the two of them, still unaware of what had just happened.

“Light?” you said, voice confused. “What’s going on?”

Light forced a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He tried to maintain his usual cool demeanor, tried to act like nothing was wrong, but his mind was racing. His heart was pounding in his chest. “Nothing,” he said smoothly, his voice casual. “I just thought it was a little too soon. You don’t have to rush things with him, do you?”

He kept his gaze on Ethan, the mask of indifference slipping in place. It was all too easy to be the confident, charismatic Light Yagami in front of others, but inside, something was boiling. He wasn’t ready to admit it—not to you, not to himself—but it was there. A slow-burning ache. The realization that he might actually care more than he’d allowed himself to believe.

And he hated it. Hated how unstable it made him.

You seemed to brush it off, distracted by the sudden interruption, and shifted your focus back to the situation at hand, oblivious to the internal war happening inside him. Light gave Ethan one final look, sharp and piercing, before letting go of his wrist, silently warning him to back off.

“Let’s get back to work,” Light said, his voice cool and collected, as if nothing had happened. His smile was back, a perfect mask to hide what was really going on. “There’s no need for any of that, alright?”

Ethan nodded, visibly uncomfortable, and after a moment, he stepped away. Light watched him leave, his gaze lingering a little too long, as if to make sure Ethan didn’t try anything else.

When the two of you were alone again, Light tried to act normal. He even teased you lightly about it, making some comment about how you were apparently too irresistible for Ethan. But beneath it all, the feeling stayed with him, thick and suffocating. The truth was there, buried deep inside.

He wasn’t ready to face it. He wasn’t ready to admit it to you. But Light was starting to realize just how much you meant to him. And for the first time, he wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

So, he buried it again. He kept the mask in place. He pretended it was just a moment of concern, just a protective instinct over his best friend. He’d dealt with worse. He’d always dealt with worse.

But as the days went by, the pressure continued to mount. And no matter how hard he tried to push it down, that little crack inside him was only getting wider.

────────────

Light was a master of subtlety, an architect of unseen movements in the intricate game of social dynamics. He didn’t need to manipulate overtly—he understood that power wasn’t in direct control, but in the delicate nudging of events, in guiding people without them ever realizing they were being guided. And so, when it came to you and Ethan, he did what he did best: he bent the circumstances in his favor without ever leaving a trace.

It started with a casual observation. Light knew that Ethan’s new-found confidence, while refreshing, was also a weakness. The more he was validated by his peers and admired by the girls in school, the more distracted he became. He was no longer the shy, introverted kid, but a rising star in a social hierarchy that was just as demanding as it was fickle. And that, in Light’s mind, was his opportunity.

It wasn’t enough to push Ethan directly. That would have been too obvious, too aggressive, and would only serve to make Ethan wary, perhaps even resentful. Instead, Light did what he always did: he stayed in the background, gently adjusting things without ever touching them directly.

———

One afternoon, Light invited Ethan to study at his house, a seemingly innocuous gathering. It wasn’t that Light wanted to help him with his homework—he was smarter than that. No, he invited Ethan because he knew exactly who else would be there.

“You should join us,” Light had said, his tone casual but with a hidden undercurrent of suggestion. “I’ve got some friends coming over. A few people from our class, actually. I’m sure you’ll enjoy their company.”

Ethan, eager for approval, agreed without hesitation. And when he arrived, he was greeted by not just a group of classmates but also a few girls from your year—girls who Light had carefully cultivated an interest in Ethan. They were charming and confident, just the kind of people who would make Ethan feel special, like he was part of a social circle he’d only just begun to enter.

Light watched with quiet satisfaction as the evening unfolded. He knew that Ethan, although still somewhat socially awkward, would be swept up in the flattery, in the attention from the girls. He would find himself caught up in their world, a world that was fast and shallow and entirely separate from the quiet, introspective world you inhabited.

But Light wasn’t finished yet.

———

The next day, when Ethan and you were supposed to meet for a study session, Light intervened once more, subtly inserting himself into the equation. He casually mentioned that Ethan was already busy with other plans.

“I’m sure Ethan has his hands full,” Light had said with that same detached, almost apologetic tone. “He’s got a lot going on with his new... friends, after all. It’s good for him.”

You had simply nodded, the familiar pang of abandonment not even worth acknowledging. Light could see the slight drop in your expression, the way your shoulders slumped imperceptibly. But he didn’t act on it immediately. No, he needed you to feel like you had no other choice, that it was just a natural consequence of the circumstances.

And as the days passed, Light continued to keep Ethan distracted. More invitations, more group activities, more of those seemingly innocent social events. He made sure Ethan was always busy, always surrounded by people who pulled him in different directions. He could feel Ethan growing more distant, his once-deep friendship with you fading into the background as he became more absorbed in his new social circle.

———

On the surface, nothing changed. You two continued to hang out, study, talk. But Light knew. He knew that you were slowly becoming aware of the shift, of Ethan’s increasing distance. And that’s when Light did what he did best—he made sure you still felt like you had him.

One evening, after Ethan had canceled another plan with you, Light casually invited you over to his place, no agenda, no ulterior motive—just two friends spending time together. But Light’s manipulation wasn’t about grand gestures. It was in the small things.

He’d set up a video game session, one of your favorites, and while you played, he would drop little hints, reminders that you were the one he always came back to. He never let the topic of Ethan come up, choosing instead to distract you with conversations about your interests, your hobbies, things you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. Subtly, quietly, Light reminded you of your place in his life. You were the constant, the one who always remained, the one who didn’t leave.

———

When you finally admitted your inner thoughts to Light, he didn’t show much reaction at first. He kept his calm, his cold indifference.

“It’s a bit sad,” you’d said, your tone light, almost detached, as if you didn’t want to admit how much it stung. “But I’m not too sad. I’m used to it.”

Light, the ever-constant figure in your life, simply nodded. “Yeah. I get it.”

But it wasn’t just that. Not for you. You had always been prepared for this moment. Prepared for the day Ethan would outgrow you, for the day he would soar to greater heights. You had always been alone in that way, haven’t you? You knew how to let go.

And that’s when Light’s grip on you tightened, though you didn’t fully realize it. He was the only one who came back to you, the only one who had never truly left. He was the constant in your life, no matter what came and went. He was the one who always returned.

You couldn’t quite explain it, but something about that—the fact that no matter how many people came and went in your life, Light was always there—comforted you. And maybe that’s why, deep down, you never questioned his actions. You never thought to look at the situation from a different perspective, to wonder why Light was so intent on keeping you around, when you were used to being discarded so easily by others.

You saw the change in Ethan, sure. You saw the way his life had shifted, how he had grown. But that didn’t mean you resented him. You never did. You were prepared to let him go if it was what was best for him, just like you had done for everyone else.

But Light? He never let go. Not completely. And you never had to ask why.

────────────

The evening was peaceful, the kind of calm routine you had come to expect when it was just you and Light. The house was quiet save for the faint sounds of clicking buttons as you both battled through another video game session, your focus entirely on the screen. You didn’t need to speak much to him—nothing ever felt awkward when it was just the two of you. It was always comfortable, always predictable, until it wasn’t.

As you took a break to rest your fingers, Light leaned back against the couch, looking at you in a way that made your stomach tighten. His gaze was uncharacteristically serious, and there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. For a moment, you wondered if he was going to start one of his usual philosophical tangents or give one of his self-imposed lectures on some obscure topic. But when he finally spoke, his voice was steady, and there was no trace of teasing or sarcasm.

“Can I kiss you?” Light asked, his words blunt and direct.

You blinked, not immediately reacting. It was such an out-of-place comment that it took a few seconds for it to register. You raised an eyebrow, your fingers still hovering over the game controller. You were certain he couldn’t be serious—Light was always surrounded by a revolving door of girlfriends and admirers. He was practically a Casanova, after all.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” you asked, still unsure whether he was joking or not. You didn’t want to entertain it, but the sheer randomness of his question caught your attention.

Light didn’t miss a beat. “I broke up with her.”

You shook your head at the nonchalance in his voice, thinking about how many times you had seen him casually switch partners in the past. It was never a surprise. Light was always the one in control, always the one who seemed to be in charge of everyone and everything, and you had learned long ago that his romantic entanglements were always temporary distractions.

“You really are a Casanova, huh?” you muttered under your breath, continuing to focus on the game as your thumb pressed the button to start the next round.

Light smirked, but there was something different in his expression, something that made the usual cockiness feel almost forced. His eyes were still locked onto you, and there was an intensity there that you hadn’t noticed before.

“I’ve been saving my first kiss for you,” he said, the words so calm, so matter-of-fact, that it almost sounded rehearsed.

You paused mid-game, your thumb stilling on the controller. You turned to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? Why?”

“It’s simple,” he said, his voice softer now, but still carrying that logical, detached tone. “You’re the one who matters the most. You’ve always been there. Everyone else is just a distraction.”

His words hit you like a strange mix of sincerity and something else you couldn’t quite place. He had always been there for you, the constant in your life, the one person who had stuck by you through everything, despite all the weirdness of life. But as his gaze lingered on you, something felt different. There was a weight in the air, an expectation you hadn’t noticed before.

You didn’t immediately respond, unsure how to take his words. You glanced at him, brow furrowed. “Are you serious? You’re asking me this now?”

Light leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into a softer tone, the edges of his usual confidence giving way to something quieter. “I know you don’t get caught up in emotions. You’ve never been the type to care about that kind of thing. But... I’ve been feeling things, and I think you should too.”

There was something almost... resigned in his words, as though he had been carrying a burden for a while. The way he spoke wasn’t forceful, but there was a subtle gravity to it, like he was simply revealing something long kept beneath the surface.

“You know,” he continued, his voice becoming even more subdued, “I’ve always been here for you. But you’ve been spending so much time with Ethan lately. Helping him out, giving him your attention...” He paused, just long enough to let the silence fill the space. “I couldn’t help but wonder why.”

You hadn’t realized how much he had been observing, how much he had noticed. You always thought things were just as they were—Light and you, close as ever. It had never seemed like there was more to it, never something to question. But hearing his words now, there was an unfamiliar sting that gnawed at you.

“You’ve always had me,” Light added, his gaze steady, though there was something new, something deeper in it now. “And I’ve always made sure to be there. I guess I just... I never thought you’d be so busy with other people.”

It wasn’t blame, exactly. It was just the way he said it—like an old truth suddenly reexamined. He never demanded your attention before, never pushed for it. But now, in this moment, it felt as if he was trying to help you see something you might have missed.

“I should’ve said something earlier, but... I guess I was too focused on being there for you.” His words hung in the air, as if he was unburdening himself of something that had long been kept quiet. “Maybe... maybe I didn’t want to admit that I’ve always been waiting for you to notice.”

Your chest tightened, the weight of his quiet confession pressing on you. You had always been so focused on helping Ethan, on seeing his progress, that you hadn’t realized how much Light had been in the background, how much he had been giving without asking for anything in return. His presence had always felt constant, like a backdrop to your life, never demanding, always patient.

He shifted closer, his voice lowering even further. “So... can I kiss you? I’ve been waiting for this.”

———

As Light’s words lingered in the air, you felt a strange pull in your chest, a mix of confusion and guilt that twisted deeper with each passing second. His gaze was steady, unwavering, as if he had already anticipated your hesitation. You had always trusted him, relied on him, and the thought of disappointing him—of not recognizing what he had done for you—felt like an unbearable weight.

But still, you couldn’t shake the uncertainty that gnawed at you. Something didn’t sit right, not entirely. But when Light spoke again, his tone soft yet somehow firm, you couldn’t ignore it.

“You’ve always had me,” he repeated, his voice more intimate now, like a whispered confession. “I’ve always been here for you. And maybe that’s why... it’s so hard for me to see you with someone else, giving all your attention to Ethan, when I’ve given you everything. When I’ve always been here, waiting for you.”

There it was—the subtle shift in his words, the quiet insinuation. The way he made it seem like you owed him something, like you hadn’t truly appreciated everything he had done. And it worked. The guilt bubbled up inside you, slowly at first, but it soon filled every inch of your chest, clouding your thoughts.

His eyes softened, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want to make you feel bad... but I can’t help how I feel. And I’ve always been there for you, through everything.”

The logic, the gentle push—it was all so subtle, so carefully calculated that you barely even realized how much it was affecting you. You didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want to make him feel neglected or unimportant. And the truth was, you hadn’t thought about him the way you should have, not in this sense.

The thought of him hurting, of him feeling left behind, sent a pang of guilt through you. Wasn’t he always there for you? Wasn’t he your best friend? And hadn’t he given you so much, asking for nothing in return? How could you not see that he needed something from you too?

You swallowed hard, feeling as if you were cornered, though he had never raised his voice. You met his gaze, and the weight of everything—his words, his feelings, the years of friendship—pressed down on you. Maybe, just maybe, you could give him this, just this once.

“Okay,” you muttered, almost too quietly, nodding in agreement, though you weren’t entirely sure why. “Okay, Light.”

His eyes brightened, as if he had been waiting for you to finally understand, to finally see what he had been trying to show you all along. And before you could think any further, before you could change your mind, he closed the distance between you, his lips pressing against yours with a fervor that surprised you.

The kiss was hard, intense—far more passionate than anything you had ever imagined from Light. His lips parted, and before you could react, his tongue slipped into your mouth, coaxing you deeper into the kiss. His hands, once casual and comforting, were now firm, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You tried to pull back, to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that were suddenly flooding your senses, but he was relentless, his grip tightening around you as he deepened the kiss, pouring out all his hidden feelings in the act. There was a rawness to it that unsettled you, a sense of desperation that didn’t feel like the Light you knew.

“Don’t pull away,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours as he kissed you harder, more urgently. “I’ve waited too long for this.”

You struggled, your hands pressing against his chest in an attempt to create space between you. But his hold was unyielding, his mouth determined as he kissed you more forcefully, his body pressing you back into the couch. The more you tried to push him away, the more he responded, tightening his grip, kissing you with an intensity that left you breathless.

It was like he was trying to make you feel every ounce of what he had been holding back all this time—the possessiveness, the longing, the unspoken need. You couldn’t escape the feeling that this wasn’t just about a kiss. It was about something deeper, something he wasn’t willing to admit, and for some reason, you were caught in the middle of it all.

Your heart pounded, your breath quickening as you tried to regain control, but it felt impossible. Every time you thought you might push him away, his presence swallowed you whole, and you found yourself trapped in the moment, uncertain of where it was going or what it meant.

And in the chaos of it all, you couldn’t help but wonder: Had you just given in to something you weren’t ready for?

———

The kiss seemed to stretch on forever, the force of it stealing your breath and leaving you spinning. Light’s lips were desperate, hungry—each movement sending a storm of emotions through you, making it hard to think clearly. His hands were unrelenting, pulling you closer as if he needed you to be closer than ever before, and you couldn’t tell if you were suffocating or if it was just the intensity of the moment.

But just as you thought you might lose yourself entirely, Light finally broke the kiss. His lips lingered near yours, a soft breath escaping him as he pulled away slightly. His eyes were wide, almost unsteady, and there was a flush on his cheeks, a vulnerability you hadn’t expected. He looked at you, a mix of guilt and something softer in his gaze, almost as if he had been holding something back for far too long.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Light’s voice was low, softer than you had ever heard it. The usual confidence was gone, replaced by something raw and apologetic. He reached up, his fingers brushing lightly over your cheek as if trying to make sure you were still there. “I just... I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted you to know how I feel. But I didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to scare you off.”

You could barely breathe, the rush of emotions still flooding your chest. But his words, the way he spoke—so calm, so seemingly vulnerable—made it harder to argue with. He was always in control, always the one who seemed so certain about everything. But now, he seemed... different. More human. More real.

“I know you care about Ethan,” Light continued, his voice growing quieter, almost like he was confessing a long-hidden secret. “But you’ve always been my person. And I can’t just keep pretending that it’s okay to watch you give all your attention to someone else. I can’t do that anymore.” His gaze softened, and he let out a slow, shaky breath. “I’ve always been here for you, through everything, and I’ll always be here for you. But you need to know that I need you too.”

Your chest tightened, a mixture of guilt and confusion flooding you. You had always relied on Light, always seen him as the constant in your life—the one person who never faltered. But now, with him standing so close, his eyes filled with emotion, it felt like he was asking for something that you didn’t know how to give.

“It’s just hard, you know?” he went on, his voice softer, almost as if he were talking to himself. “I never wanted to make you feel pressured, never wanted you to think I needed something from you. But I’ve been waiting for you to see it... to see me. The way I see you.”

His words stung, a sharp reminder that maybe you had been blind to his feelings, had never really considered how deeply Light had been there for you. His presence, his care—it had always been so constant that you never thought of it as anything other than friendship. But now, hearing him speak so openly, it felt like you had missed something, like you had failed to notice the depth of his emotions.

“I’m sorry,” he added, his hand moving to cup your face gently. “I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me. How much I’ve been there for you. You’re my everything, you know that?”

You couldn’t help but soften, despite the overwhelming swirl of emotions inside you. He was right about one thing—he had always been there for you, through every up and down. He had given you so much without asking for anything in return. Couldn’t you just give him this? Couldn’t you show him the same loyalty, the same devotion he had shown you?

“I know I’ve been selfish,” Light continued, his voice thick with emotion now. “I didn’t want to admit it, but I’ve always needed you, and I can’t pretend that I don’t anymore.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. His words were so soft, so raw—something about the vulnerability in his tone made it hard to keep your walls up. He was your best friend. He had always been there, a steady force in your life. How could you not want to give him this?

“I’m not asking for anything big,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just want you to see me. To know how much I care. To know that... I’ve always cared.”

Your heart clenched as the weight of his words settled over you, and despite the uncertainty swirling in your mind, you nodded slowly. You could never refuse him. Not Light. Not when he had always been your constant, the one person who had never wavered in his loyalty.

“I... I do care about you, Light,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

He smiled softly, almost sadly, as if he had expected something like that, as if he had known you would give in.

“I just needed you to understand,” he whispered, leaning in again, this time his touch gentler, more tender, as he kissed you once more.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself be swept away by the warmth of his lips, the tenderness of his touch. Even as doubt whispered in the back of your mind, telling you that something wasn’t quite right, you buried it deep. After all, Light was your best friend. The one person who had always been there for you. You couldn’t turn away from him now, not after everything he had done.

And so, despite the confusion, despite the overwhelming swirl of emotions, you let yourself fall into the kiss, letting the weight of his presence consume you. Because in the end, he was the one constant in your life. And to you, that meant everything.

────────────

As Light’s lips moved against yours, his touch became softer, more controlled, though the intensity beneath the surface didn’t waver. When he finally pulled away, he didn’t let go. Instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, drawing you into an embrace so firm it felt like he was trying to fuse your body with his. His chin rested against your shoulder, his face buried in the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply, almost reverently.

The scent of you—natural and subtle, like soft florals—flooded his senses, grounding him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. His grip tightened for just a moment, and though you couldn’t see his face, there was an unguarded smile stretching far too wide, twisted in its elation. Ah. Finally. This feels so good. So perfect.

He allowed himself one long, slow breath, savoring every second of having you in his arms. His face remained hidden, safely tucked away where you couldn’t see the mask slip, where you couldn’t catch the flicker of something far darker than the tenderness he pretended to offer. His voice, when it came, was warm and light, the perfect mimicry of someone lovestruck. “I’ve waited so long for this,” he murmured, pressing his lips lightly against your temple. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

But inside, his thoughts were far from gentle.

Calm down, Light. Don’t ruin this. Not yet. She’s not ready. He had to physically restrain himself, fingers digging into your back to keep his hands steady. The urge to take, to claim, to make you entirely his surged like wildfire, burning away the edges of his composure. Not yet. You’ll ruin everything if you move too fast.

Your naivety was what made you so precious. You were brilliant in your own way—smarter than him in certain areas, even—but socially? Oh, you were practically a child, stumbling blindly through interactions while he played the perfect friend, the perfect protector. And you trusted him so implicitly. That’s your greatest weakness. You trust me.

His mind was a whirl of strategies and calculations, and all of them led to the same conclusion: you were his, and you always had been. It was simply a matter of time before you realized it too. If he had to break you, mold you, and piece you back together to make you understand, then so be it. He would do it slowly, carefully, ensuring you never saw the cracks in his façade.

You think you’re safe with me. The thought was almost laughable, sending a ripple of satisfaction through him as he tightened his embrace. You don’t realize how deep you’ve already fallen into this. How much I’ve shaped your life to keep you close. But that’s okay. You’ll understand soon enough.

He could feel the heat of your skin against his, hear the soft hitch in your breathing, and it made him drunk with control. He’d never felt calmer, never felt more in command of himself. Every step from here on out was carefully planned, meticulously crafted to lead you exactly where he wanted you. There was no need to rush.

I’ll break you, little by little. But you won’t even notice, will you? You’ll think I’m helping you, protecting you. And when there’s nothing left of the girl who thought she could exist without me, you’ll thank me for it.

You stirred slightly in his hold, and for a moment, he almost let his grip slip—almost let his hunger get the better of him. But he reined himself in, forcing his breathing to slow, forcing the wicked grin on his face to soften into something fond. His lips brushed against your neck, leaving a featherlight kiss that made you shiver, though you didn’t pull away.

“I won’t let you go,” he whispered, his voice so soft and tender that it sent a pang of guilt through you for even considering doubting him. “I’ll always take care of you. I promise.”

And he meant it. Oh, he meant it in every twisted sense of the word. You were his to care for, to cherish, to love. And if caring for you meant destroying every piece of independence you had, if cherishing you meant breaking you down until you couldn’t live without him, then that was exactly what he would do.

Because to him, you weren’t just the person he loved. You were his purpose, his possession, his world. And no one—not Ethan, not anyone—would take you from him.

As he pulled back slightly, his hands lingered on your shoulders, holding you at arm’s length as he gazed at you with eyes so warm, so sincere, you felt your heart twist. “Thank you,” he said softly, his lips curling into a gentle smile. “For trusting me. For letting me in.”

You didn’t have the words to respond, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, too consumed by the vulnerability you thought you saw in his expression. You nodded, offering him a small, shaky smile of your own.

And Light, ever the patient predator, smiled back.

Good girl.

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