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sunny-milla · 4 months ago

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You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

child! shigaraki tomura x mom! reader

In an alternate universe, a kindergarten teacher meets a feeble boy looking for a home and held out a helping hand before the heroes could do so. This is a two part one-shot, so is it called two shots? Man idk.

pt.1

italics refer to Tenko’s future self

Tenko. His name echoed in his own head, a visage of his sister crumbling plays out like a broken film. A sudden itch on his neck for the fifth time in the minute, pieces of his skin stuck under his untrimmed nails. ‘Someone please help me.’ He couldn’t drag the words from the back of his throat, they came out as a pitiful croak paired with a loud sniffle. He closed his eyes, wandering aimlessly, maybe the middle of the busy road would be a good destination

One step. Two steps. Three steps. He can hear the cars, speeding past him. Digging his fingers onto his dainty palm, he’s ready, ready to die. It’ll be fine now. He can atone for his sins, everything will be fine now. One step into the black tarmac, another one, awaiting for an impact. However, a soft palm came across his arm, pulling him away from his despair. “Hey kid, are you alright? What’s your name?” In front of him was a woman, the sun shone on her face, a soft smile that melted away his gloom.

“Tenko.” His hands bloodied. “I killed them. I didn’t mean to. I swear.” Continous breaks in his words, his croaked voice a dead giveaway of his stammering composure. Not even a second later, crystalline tears formed in his eyes, waterworks spilling out like a broken fire hydrant.

She crouched down in front of him, wiping away the blood on his hand, the back of his hand on top pf her palm. He removed his hand defensively, almost by instinct, he didn’t want to hurt anyone else. “Don’t worry, I’m not easily hurt!” She raised her arm, flexing her non-existent muscle. In that very moment, Tenko was sure that this woman was the warm sunshine in the cold winter, the sunshine everyone looked forward to in the spring. Yes. He was sure of it. This woman was his hero.

She stood up and offered her hand, he wanted to hold it, he really did but he retracted his hand in fright for her safety. It must be because his quirk’s activation is through his hands. “Would you grab onto my bag then? We wouldn’t want you lost now.” A white leathered crossbody bag with golden chain and a small keychain— a cute little All Might keychain, a keepsake from an old friend. He latched onto her bag with only two of his fingers touching, he followed her, his trust on her palms.

Then, they arrived in front of a small clinic which resembled a traditional Japanese home more than anything. Tenko talked with the doctor who was a middle aged woman who gave him a lollipop after his checkup. Meanwhile, Y/n was outside on the call with cops talking about the boy she just found. He was easily traced back to the Shimura residence in which the police quickly dispatched some officers to assess the situation.

The doctor then quickly explained to her what was his quirk and its activation requirements after a few tests. She wrapped a bandage around his pinkies to prevent his quirk from activating. “Tenko let’s go shopping!” She carried him, his bottom resting on her arm. Tenko remained quiet, he didn’t know how to respond to this bright light. Shall he blink his eyes and hide from it? Or shall he admire it and accept its warmth? He had no choice but to take that captivating warmth.

Firstly, she took him to the kids clothing section. She bought him necessities, a few pair of pants, and a couple shirts, of course some onesies too! She knew that he wasn’t in the mood for dress up but took notice of which clothes seemed to cause a crease in the skin between his brows and which ones widened his eyes.

Off to the shoes section! “May I have red shoes please?” He looks at the vibrant crimson shoes, which happened to be the most expensive and popular in the section. His eyes suddenly looked towards the price tag, “Nevermind!” He quickly said, he didn’t want to be a burden or seem picky.

Y/n was quick to pick up where his eyes went and knew that he was probably worried about the price, it was a mature thing to think of but she didn’t want him to be like that. Children should act spoilt as much as they can. “What a nice eye you have Tenko! Is there anything else you want?” He shook his head. To be honest, Tenko wanted everything but he was satisfied with that. As long as this nice lady was with her, he’ll be satisfied. “These shoes aren’t great for running, let’s grab you one more pair.” Tenko’s eyes widened, he felt like a child with a mom who loved spoiling him.

“That one please.” He pointed at a white pair of running shoes which lit up when it was to be stomped. She puts on the shoe trying out if it was his size. He was too shy to say that it wasn’t his size and it seemed to deplete most of his energy when he did. “I don’t think it’s my size.” He released a deep breath after she took her attention to the saleswoman and asked for a smaller size.

“A kid also needs boots for rainy days, am I right?” She looked at Tenko and smiled. Tenko was amazed, no one has ever smiled at him consecutively, his amazement nearly brought him to his tears but he bit back his sobs and enjoyed the fleeting moment.

Y/n was carrying the shopping bags while holding Tenko’s hand. “Say Tenko, what kind of toys do you want?”

“Um…” He didn’t know. He had a lot in mind. He wanted a lot. “Please pick for me.” Y/n formed a faux disappointed pout. She picked up an All Might plushie which was a trend amongst her students, “This one?” She quickly picked up on his dismay. “How about this?” She picked up a dinosaur plushie instead in which received a delightful nod from Tenko. My mom is the kindest person in the world.

He looked at a car toy, but it wasn’t just any car toy. It was a car toy that does need batteries to move, it just needed to dragged onto the floor to create friction and stores kinetic energy. When released, the car’s kinetic energy is used up and releases thermal energy as waste and finally moves at a high speed. It was those kind of toy cars kids bragged about in the playground. “The toy car too please!” He accidentally yelped out, he didn’t mean to be so selfish, it just slipped out accidentally.

My mom kinda spoilt me and I grew out to be a little stubborn.

She picked up lots of things as well, toys for educational learning and some reading books for his bedtime stories. “Tenko should we go home now?” What an odd word for him, wasn’t his home the one he destroyed? If so, he didn’t want to go back. “My apartment’s a 30 minute drive from here, I think we have to hail a cab. Man ain’t that annoying, Tenko?” She looked down at him and watched him nod in agreement. She wanted to have a small conversation with him, to slowly distracting from his misery but it seemed that he was rather a little empty instead. Tenko chose to avoid it.

She’s also the most talkative, she also gets along well with my girlfriend and sometimes I forget that I’m her child. I bet that they’re making fun of me right now.

The drive back home was quiet, Tenko sat beside her and his head leaning on her arm, his eyes fluttering and threatening to close itself. He didn’t want to go to sleep, he’ll see them again. He didn’t want that, but with one small caress of her hand on his head, he drifted to wonderland.

When they arrived in front of her apartment, Y/n carried Tenko into the apartment first, placing him onto the couch and picked up the shopping bags. She decided to tap him lightly, after debating if she should bathe him or prepare dinner first. “Tenko, lovely, let’s go bathe you.” Tenko nodded while rubbing his eye.

She made sure the water was not too warm nor too cold, that the pressure of the water was not too strong especially because his skin was sensitive. “Close your eyes.” Tenko shut them firmly, he hated getting shampoo in his eyes, it was too painful. She massaged the shampoo on his scalp with soft touches. Although she was a teacher, she didn’t truly know how gentle she should be when it comes to bathing them.

Next, she lathered an oatmeal bar soap on his skin as recommended by the doctor. She was warned not to use anything with scented chemicals and made sure that everything was natural. After rinsing him with water, she took a fresh towel and patted his body dry before wrapping his body with it. “Thank you.” He muttered softly, he fiddled with his fingers and shied away from her gaze. She could only smile softly and ruffle his head, that must have taken all of his courage.

After dressing him up, she decided to go prepare dinner whilst Tenko played with the new toys and watch the TV. It turns out that he really liked Pingu, encapsulated by the small penguin who spoke an odd language.

Once dinner was prepared, Tenko was called into the kitchen. He had a special chair, three pillows stacked on top of each other so that he could reach the tall table. “Thank you for the food.” Y/n and Tenko said in unison however his voice was meek and barely audible. She had cooked popular dish popular amongst the population, katsu curry and served with the steaming white rice. That night, it became his favourite dish.

The night loomed over the sky, the moon casting its glow on every single house. “Good night, Tenko.” She tucked him into bed, leaving the night light on per his request. Tenko hated the dark. There were monsters in the dark.

“Will you please sing me a bedtime song?” Y/n felt tingly sensations all over her body, was this what her mother felt when she was kid?

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You'll never know, dear

How much I love you

Please don't take

My sunshine away

By the end of the song, his eyes were shut close, he had a firm grip around his dinosaur stuffy, she watched his chest rise up and down leaving her heart at rest. Y/n never dreamt of being a mother, the pregnancy thing threw her off, she never dealt well with pain ever since she was a kid. However, this feeling satisfaction and an overwhelming feeling of warmness surged like a tsunami.

The next day, Tenko woke up to the aromatic scent of pancakes with the strong coffee bean roast he was quite familiar with. “Good morning Tenko! Have you brushed your teeth?”

She chirped like a bird even though it was so early in the morning, she was boisterous, her arms blustered around so much I thought she’d fly away. At that moment, I realised that I wanted to stay with her.

“Yes.” A weak response.

I hated loud voices, but I looked forward to mom’s everyday. One time I came back late from the arcade because I was hanging out with Touya and Hawks and she yelled at me. I never really understood it back then but she just cared for me. I guess I was a bit of a troubled kid.

“Do you like strawberries on your pancakes Tenko?” I never liked strawberries nor pancakes, I had no interest in anything but mom gave me something to love.

Pancakes, strawberries, dinosaurs, games, picnics. She gave me more than a home, she gave me gave me a place to be a child. When she had to take me to the orphanage, it seemed to break her heart more than it did to mine. I had only known her for two weeks but it felt like she was the one who gave birth to me.

“Tenko, I’ll visit you everyday. Just wait for me, m’kay?” Tenko didn’t want her to leave he wanted to hold her sleeves but he couldn’t. He didn’t want her to turn like his family. She took off the All Might keychain off her bag, “This is my lucky charm, this is veryyy precious to me. So when I’m not here, this lil guy will watch you for me.” She couldn’t help but develop maternal feelings, it wasn’t pity, it was a desire to protect the child. She kneeled in front of him, giving him a hug, this kid needed it than anyone. “It’ll take a little while, but I’ll bring you home, Tenko. I promise.”

There were no promises she did not keep. That’s what was so admirable of her. Moms are like superheroes, aren’t they?

A month later, after the long process of paper works and what not. Y/n brought Tenko home. “Welcome home Tenko!” He wore a yellow party hat with white polka dots. There was a huge banner across the living room which read, ‘Welcome Home’. It felt like sunshine on a cold winter morning.

Tenko finally got to sit in that dining table once again, and he will continue to do so from now on. Y/n placed a piece of deboned fish on top of Tenko’s bowl, it reminded him sort of his biological mother, his mom wasn’t a bad mom— she just never protected him from dad.

They were complex feelings a 5 year old couldn’t comprehend. Even when hatred bloomed in Tenko’s heart, a part of him said to himself that the man was still his father; he craved his attention like it was water yet also detested his gaze. “Tenko, sweetheart, are you alright?” Tenko’s vision slightly warped, next thing he knew his cheeks were wet, he was being hugged by this woman while being softly patted on his back.

His tiny fists gripped on her blouse, wrinkling it slightly, he buried his face on her and wailed, “Mom!” Chanting the word over and over again like it was an incantation. Tenko didn’t know if it was right to call her mom, but he did. He didn’t know if it meant that he betrayed his biological mother but this woman felt like his mom. She felt like a warm blanket in a cold winter, a sudden shower mid-summer, a bluster of gale in the dry summer. He knew that she was mom.

“Tenko, you’re fine now. You’re home now.” Right. This is home. “Hush now, sweetheart.” She carried him in her arms swiftly and sat down on her chair. She sang his favourite song, ‘you are my sunshine’ in a sweet melodious voice lulling him to sleep. Tenko cries began to cease to hiccups, his eyes became swollen, his lashes clumped together due to his tears. His grip on her blouse began to loosen when his eyes began to close.

Y/n took him to his newly designed room, it was a shame he couldn’t see it yet. His bed frame was of a sports car, there was a basketball hoop stuck on his door, a small tent just a few feet away from his bed with stuff toys inside, boxes of legos ready to be built by him, and some toy cars. Y/n slowly put him on his bed, tucking him in under the blue sheets, brushing away the hair on his face. She kisses his forehead and was ready to leave until his tiny fist clung onto her, “Mommy, please don’t go.”

That day, Y/n swore to herself that she’d help her son get back up on his feet, to make sure that he never feels this way. How could a boy think that his mother leave him? That was too cruel. “Yes Tenko, mommy’s here.” Y/n hands found her way on Tenko’s head, her palm repeatedly caressing his head. “Oh my sweet child.” She mumbles as she watches his chest rise up and down. “The root of my life.” Y/n never felt any sort happiness like this until she had Tenko, her one-month pregnancy was sure tough but it was worth the wait.

Never in her 20 years of living had she thought that the mere sound of his breathing would the sound to bring her to sleep, it soothed her nerves like it was the smoothness of fine silk. “My son, my sweet treasure.”

The next day was Tenko’s first day of his new preschool. A different place meant different people and Tenko was feeling extra nervous that morning. “Tenko, wake up now.” Tenko felt her palm softly hitting his stomach to wake him up. His eyes blinked opened, the light hitting his eyes causing him to shut it quickly.

“Good morning, mom.” He greeted softly, slowly getting up from the bed using the heel of his palm as a support.

She replied in a cheery tone paired along with her bright smile. “Good morning, Tenko!” She ruffled his hair, finding his bed hair cute. “Let’s go take a shower now.” She stands up and waited for Tenko to follow her whilst he fought back from his back kissing the bed again.

Tenko walked into the bathroom a few moments later, he was still not ready to take a shower but he did not want to disappoint his mom.

“Is the water too cold?” She asked as soon as the water hit Tenko’s skin, he shook his head firmly and closed his eyes so that water wouldn’t go in them.

“Are you excited for school Tenko?” Tenko didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he’d have friends or if people would find him weird or gloomy. He had fears which a typical 5 year old would not have.

While she helped Tenko shower, she babbled about what to do and not do in school. She told him to be a “good boy” and that he should listen to his teachers.

When they had arrived in school, Tenko became indecisive. He didn’t want to leave his mom’s sweet abode, he was scared to meet new people. “Mom I don’t wanna go.” Tenko gripped on the straps of his backpack tightly, his nails scratching against the fabric.

She crouched in front of him, not caring about how hard it was due to her black pencil skirt. “Are you scared?” She asked which he nodded his head to. “Sweetheart, don’t worry, the kids are really nice here. If not, you can tell mommy and we’ll find you a different school.”

She took his small, soft hands and caressed it with her thumb. “Besides mommy will be there at the start and see how it goes.” Tenko nodded at her words. To others it may seem like empty words that mothers say to their children just to stop them from whining, but in reality mothers do their best just to see their kids smile.

“What if I don’t make any friends?” Tenko sulked, he hated being alone more than anything. He hated it how there was an indescribable ache in his heart when he feels such strong emotions.

“Why would anyone not befriend such a nice and cuuuuttteeee person?” She pinches his cheeks slightly causing Tenko to feel a bit shy. Tenko felt shy, it was like this as well when old grandmas complimented him in the park; he kind of liked the attention. It made him feel loved.

My mom helped me regain my confidence, she helped me ask out the love of my life and helped me make friends.

“Good morning, L/n-san.” A soft voice said from behind, she immediately recognised who that voice belonged to. She turned her head to look back, and knew it would be the snow haired woman with a delicate yet cold stare.

She stood up properly to greet her and Tenko quickly hid behind her legs. “Good morning, Todoroki-san. This is my son, Tenko.” She nudged at the boy behind her. “Could that be Touya-kun?” Y/n immediately took notice of the vibrant crimson haired boy who stood beside Rei.

“Ah yes! Touya, say hi.” Rei urges to greet Y/n and her son who introduced himself with such great confidence.

“I’m Touya! What’s your name?” Dabi is my great friend. We met as kids cause we were at the same kindergarten.

“My name is Tenko.” He slowly slid out behind his mom’s legs, and made direct eye contact with the turquoise eye coloured boy.

“Touya, I hope you take care of Tenko-kun here.” Rei said to Touya which slightly comforted Y/n worries of Tenko being a lonely child.

“Of course! A hero takes care of civilians!” Touya exclaimed in pride which made the two mothers giggle.

“Hey! A hero doesn’t need to take care of another hero!” Tenko argued, his voice slightly getting louder at the end causing Rei and Y/n to laugh a little more.

“You wanna be a hero too?” Touya questioned with great eagerness and enthusiasm. He was pretty loud and boastful as a kid. He hasn’t changed at all.

“Yes! Do you?” Tenko’s eyes twinkled at the new, profound friendship he knew was about to bloom.

Touya clenches his fists and nods his head with passion. “You bet I do!” The two mothers smiled at the sight, a feeling of warmth sinking in their hearts.

My mom was the reason I wanted to become a hero. When no one reached out their hand for me and when I had given up, she took my hand and forced me out of the darkness.

A message for my mom? Oh uhm. Mom thank you for everything, thank you for being my mom.

#mha x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #tenko shimura #tenko shimura x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #mha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha fic #mha #mha fanfiction #mha oneshot

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femmefatalevibe · 1 year ago

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Femme Fatale Guide: My Fall Wardrobe Essentials

Pima cotton long-sleeve tees (I like the Supima ones from Everlane for every day)

Contour body suits (I like the Express Bodycon Compression line and Spanx bodysuits in vegan leather/silk)

Silk button downs

Structured cotton button-down

Cashmere sweaters (crewneck, turtleneck, polo neck, etc. – Everlane, Nadaam, and Cuyana are great affordable options)

Zippered knitwear (I like options from Pixie Market, Naadam, COS, Ganni, Helmut Lang, Nanushka, and more)

Black high-waisted tailored trousers (bootcut, flared, and straight leg)

Black high-waisted jeans (straight and bootcut for me!)

Elevated stretch pants (I like the Norma Kamali Boot Pant and Spanx Perfect Pant for this)

Cashmere trouser

Cashmere hoodie

Thick, well-structured black sweatshirt

High-waisted straight-leg leather pants

Long-sleeve black sweater dress

Maxi-length black satin slip dress

Leather/quilted/tweed mini skirt

Long knit skirt (love a co-ord top for this, too)

Perfectly-tailored longline, single-breasted black blazer

Tailored hourglass blazer

Leather blazer

Classic leather moto jacket

Cropped patent leather jacket

Lightweight wool/satin duster coat

Black cotton trench/leather trench coat

Black tweed jacket with elevated hardware

Structured black wool coat

Leather puff jacket

Minimalist white sneakers

Black block-heeled, sleek square-toed/pointy-toe boots

Modern black loafers

Croc-embossed black boot

Black moto/lace-up boot or minimalist platform boot

Stiletto heel, pointy toe black boot (one short and one knee high length to dress up any outfit)

Western-inspired boot

Sleek and sexy black pumps

Structured black tote/shoulder bag

Structured crossbody bag

Small shoulder bag

Novelty/fun top handle bag (beaded, croc-embossed, crystal-embellishments, etc.)

Seamless bras/underwear

Control-top black tights (sheer and opaque)

Comfortable white and black ankle/crew socks

A cashmere, silk, or faux fur everyday scarf

Fingerless gloves

Chunky chain necklaces/bracelets

Delicate gold and silver chains (necklaces and bracelets)

Mixed-metal rings

Diamond-encrusted & cocktail rings

Ear cuffs and threader earrings

High-waisted shapewear shorts

Cashmere or silk loungewear/pajamas

A lace teddy

Cozy slippers

#wardrobe staples #capsule wardrobe #fall wardrobe #fall outfits #personal branding #style tips #style inspiration #black outfit #outfit inspiration #wardrobe design #style inspo #fashion advice #dark femininity #dark feminine energy #femme fatale #brand personality #fashion blog #femmefatalevibe

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deanbrainrotwritings · 1 year ago

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— GIANTS IN THE OCEAN

SUMMARY : when jensen dresses as dean for halloween, he tried to prove that he can fuck like him when he’s told he doesn’t.

PAIRING : jensen ackles x latina!reader

CHARACTERS : misha collins, jared padalecki, genevieve padalecki

WARNINGS : nsfw (18+), smut, angst, fingering, defending wanda maximoff bc I’m whipped for her, switch!jensen & switch!reader

WORD COUNT : 3.4k

A/N : title from sky eats aeroplane’s song. procrastination, laziness, gah. anyway, it’s the destiny showcase so I’m doing nothing and I’m posting now LOL X

Jensen cleared his throat loudly from where he stood at the closet, trying to get his girlfriend's attention who was applying makeup as a part of her costume. She blinked the blurriness from her eyes and looked at him first from the mirror, then turned around with a raised brow at his costume of choice.

“Dean Winchester? Really? You’re not even trying,” she laughed softly, then returned to quickly finish up with her look. He deflated slightly, pouting as he made his way to her, he got down on his knees and sat back on his legs to admire her.

“Wanda isn't a hero, but Dean is,” he argued after giving some thought to how to respond to her comment. She squinted her eyes, giving him the side-eye, just then she finished up and then turned to face him. He blinked up at her innocently, green eyes wide and pretty, his lashes fluttering like a princess against his freckled cheeks.

She grasped his chin with her black-stained fingers, leaning forward so her red-tinted lips brushed against his, “as a mother, I have to disagree.” He blushed, but excitedly tried to lean forward to claim her lips only for her to pull away with a little tsk. “You’re so pretty like this, baby, on your knees for me like a good boy,” she murmured seductively, swiping her thumb across his pillowy lip.

“Don’t do this to me now,” he moaned, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against hers. His hands clung tightly to her leather covered thighs and she turned her face slightly to kiss him with a playful smile on her lips. He slid his hands up her legs, grasping her hips to tug her forward, off the chair, and into his lap to deepen the kiss. “You’re so hot,” he mumbled when he pulled away just a bit to breathe. Then, he returned her mouth, hunger hidden beneath each quick peck he gave her.

“So are you, Jay,” she replied softly, pulling away and placing her finger on his lips when he chased her mouth for more kisses. “Especially when you’re dressed as Dean Winchester.” She smirked down at him and his pretty, puckered, pink lips. He gazed at her curiously, a little surprised by her admission. He didn’t have time to respond or to even let that information sink in because he instinctively shut his eyes when she leaned forward quickly to place open-mouthed kisses along his neck.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his breathe catching in his throat when she reached down and started to rub his semi-hard cock over his jeans. “Baby, I don’t wanna get to Jared’s party with my dick hard,” he groaned, his voice deep with lust, breathy and hot. She felt her pussy tingle, a wave of heat and arousal starting to build up between her legs.

“Then, let’s get going before I fuck you here on the floor, yeah? Dean?” She looked down at him innocently, mimicking what he’d done earlier. He shook his head at her, his cock stirring in the tight confines of his jeans at being called Dean. However, with the Scarlet Witch costume she was wearing, it was a little scary but in a hot way. “Now, get your dick soft, my mom’s downstairs with the kids.”

Y/N stood up from Jensen’s lap, getting a matching crossbody bag that was small and didn’t get in the way of her costume. Jensen stayed on the floor for a while, trying to get his mind out of the gutter and get his excitement under control before he got up. Embarrassingly so, she was leaning against the doorway with a smug smile just watching him try to recollect himself.

“Please, Y/N, don’t judge me,” he said playfully, holding his palm up to stop her from looking at him. She chuckled, pushing her body off the doorframe to start walking away, Jensen following right behind.

“I’m pretty sure she calls me names in Spanish,” he blurted out, scratching the back of his neck.

“Pftt, no she doesn’t,” Y/N said unconvincingly, “besides, there’s a difference between my kids and my husband,” she added, shrugging nonchalantly, a grin fighting it’s way onto her lips despite how hard she bit it.

Okay, maybe she did call him names, but they were meant affectionately. And mostly it was names relating to his freckles or his green eyes that were too hilarious or accurate for her to stop her mom from calling him even when he was right there. Like a codename girls use for their crushes or people they dislike.

“You said she liked me!” He exclaimed quietly, grabbing her arm to twirl her around and pull her into his chest.

“She does! I’m messing with you, baby,” she promised, leaning up to kiss the worry from his face. “You’re perfect and she knows that,” Y/N said earnestly, cupping his face in her hands, “she knows you’re an amazing husband and an even better father. I love you so much. I swear, no, I promise you, she likes you too. She told me you were a keeper, Jay.” She looked up at him with the widest, in-love-with-you eyes he just couldn’t help the way it immediately made him relax.

“She did?” He asked softly, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Y/N nodded, her own arms circling around his neck. “I was in love with you from the start and she knew it. She saw everything that you were and she convinced me to go for it before someone else whisked you away. Thanks to her, you’re mine.” Y/N leaned up to kiss him again, softly, tenderly.

“Thanks to her, you’re mine,” Jensen corrected quietly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get so insecure,” he chuckled, brushing her cheek with his fingers lovingly.

“I shouldn’t have said that as a joke, I’m sorry too.” She grabbed his hand and kissed it softly, “let's get out of here.” He kissed her forehead and nodded in agreement, letting her lead all the way downstairs to greet her mother and say goodbye to their children.

“Dean and Wanda?” Misha asked, taking a large sip of his beer. “What a strange couple, but the two of them are crazy about family so…” he smiled broadly, hugging them both. Y/N laughed, squeezing Misha’s side as Jensen patted his back.

“And you’re.. the Mandalorian, but without your helmet on…” Jensen chuckled, pulling away first to ruffle Misha’s already messy hair.

“How else am I supposed to drink beer and eat candy?” He shouted over the music, then dragged the two of them inside to allow people an easier way in. Misha led them into the kitchen, talking about how he’d somehow lost his Grogu toy somewhere in Jared’s house. “Anyway, go crazy you two.. but not as crazy as the people you’re dressed up as,” Misha teased, patting them both on their heads before making his way somewhere else to have fun.

“Well..” Jensen chuckled as he watched Misha leave.

“I love him,” she said happily, then started to put together Jensen’s drink.

“Same,” Jensen smiled, watching her with a loving look. “So… about what you were saying earlier… about me dressing up as Dean? Did you mean that?” He asked, leaning against the counter, attempting to be completely cool about his question, trying not to give away that it's something he’d considered for a while: role playing as Dean during sex.

“Yes?” She confirmed hesitantly, handing him the Old Fashion she’d prepared then started to make her own drink. “Why? Got something naughty in mind?” She asked, glancing up at him every now and then, seeing the blush on his face either from the heat of the house filled with mostly strangers or from whatever was going on in his mind.

“Always,” he grinned bravely, taking a large gulp of the whiskey for his sudden bashfulness. She raised a brow at him, her interest piqued, placing a few gummy worms into her already sweet drink.

“You gonna tell me or show me?” She asked, stepping forward as he took another sip. He choked on it a little, glanced around for anybody who could be watching or listening. At that time, she took a gummy worm and dangled it in front of him playfully. He obediently opened his mouth and let her push the gummy worm inside, the sweet and sour taste making him hum softly in satisfaction.

“Well, I-I was just gonna make a suggestion,” he stuttered, his mouth slightly full with the chewed up candy. He swallowed quickly when she licked her fingers lasciviously, just as he reached behind her to steal a bag of gummy bears.

“I think…” she murmured, hooking her fingers onto his belt loops and tugging him forward. “I think you should honour your costume and show me. Here.” He blinked down at her, his eyes wide and completely astounded at her bold words.

“Shit,” he muttered, his face a bright red colour. “Are you ovulating?”

“Shut up,” she laughed, the spell of wantonness suddenly broken. She took the bag of gummy worms she opened and started to walk away from him, carefully weaving through the dancing and sweaty bodies with her drink.

He downed the rest of the whiskey, knowing he’d definitely need it if she was going to keep it up with the hot flirting. He carefully dumped his cup into the sink then tried to follow her, only to lose her in the literal sea of bodies, salty and heavy. He easily found Jared even in his Green Arrow costume, standing high above most of the people. He was dancing and laughing with Gen, who was dressed as Wonder Woman, the two of them were talking to someone Jensen didn’t know.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Jensen said politely, turning to Jared. The man was kind and smiled at Jensen, standing off to the side to let Jensen have a quick chat with Jared and Gen. “Have you guys seen Y/N? I sorta lost her. Great costumes by the way,” Jensen rushed out, anxiously trying to get them to respond.

“Hey, Jensen!” Jared’s voice boomed, pulling him into a tight hug, drawing a wheeze from Jensen, which made Genevieve smack him. Jared pulled away and pouted at her, rubbing his arm dramatically but then became serious to focus on Jensen’s question.

“Yeah, she went upstairs with Misha, said it was a bit loud for her,” Gen replied, then made a little ‘oomph’ sound when Jensen hugged her quickly and said a quick thanks to them. Jared and Genevieve looked at each other curiously then got distracted by that same man who joined back in to continue their conversation.

Jensen knew that wasn’t actually the case, but he went upstairs anyway. Couples were kissing loudly and groping each other along the staircase, but upstairs must have been off limits because there was basically no one, just Misha waiting outside one of the doors while holding Y/N’s drink.

“Jensen! She’s using the restroom. Also, this is really sweet,” Misha laughed, handing Jensen the drink so he could try it. Jensen smiled and took the glass, lovingly looking at the colourful drink and the sugar rimmed edge, gummy worms swimming around inside. He shook his head as he thought of Y/N and tried the drink, which set his senses alight, his mouth overwhelmed by the sweetness and the barley-there flavour of vodka.

“Fuck, that’s…” Jensen licked his lips and Misha laughed, stepping aside when Y/N stepped out of the restroom. “Hey, honey. You okay?” She smiled and nodded at them, about to take her drink back, but Jensen pulled it back. She frowned, about to argue, but then he handed it to Misha. “Get rid of it, it’s just gonna give her a headache.” It was the truth, but he’d mostly tasked Misha with it so he could be alone with Y/N.

“Hey!” She whined, trying to walk past Jensen, which only excited Misha. Jensen wrapped his arms around her, stopping her from chasing their beloved friend, holding her close so she instantly started to melt into him.

“No, he’s right,” Misha chuckled, making a break for it. “You eat too much candy and you always get headaches!” Misha had already made it downstairs and he’d definitely be dumping that drink for the monstrosity that it was.

“Were you making me flustered on purpose?” He asked, getting straight to the point. She moved her face from where it was lazily pressed against his arm and gazed up at him, once again, still somehow being able to portray innocence with the dark eyeshadow around her eyes. “Why?”

She huffed softly, a little grin on her face, “because you’re not like Dean when it comes to sex and I think it’s funny to tease you.” She kissed him softly, quickly with her sticky lips, not giving him a chance to kiss her back properly. He just licked his lip from the sugar her lips smeared onto his.

“You think I’m… boring?” He asked, sounding a little confused. He wondered if maybe this was her way of telling him things were a little too vanilla and she needed more, more excitement, more spice, more than he could offer.

“No! God, no, Jay! Why does your mind always go there?” She wondered, holding his face. He grabbed her wrists, pushing her gently into the wall with his body.

“I love you…” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “I just want to make you happy.” He moved her hands away from his face and pinned them together holding them both above her head in one hand.

“I love you.. and you always make me happy,” she replied softly. Her eyes widened slightly when he started to tug her leather pants down her legs. “I’m not wearing any underwear,” she blurted out, biting her lip with a blush heating up her face. He stopped for a moment, a smirk growing on his lips before he continued pulling them down.

“If I touch you in this hallway…” he whispered, kissing her lips swiftly. “Will I be more like Dean?” He stared into her eyes, saw her surprise and the thrill that made her chest rise and fall faster. His eyes flickered down between her legs, where she was indeed lacking underwear, and he let the pants hang low around her thighs.

“I want you. Not Dean,” she mumbled with a little pout, spreading her legs impatiently when he slowly trailed his fingers up the inside of her thighs. He squeezed her thigh, chuckling against her mouth when he leaned in to kiss her, gently pushing his teeth into her pillowy lip.

“But you also want Dean, you said so. I can give you that, it sounds hot.” He tapped the apex of her thigh teasingly, his dick getting harder with the way she squirmed against the wall. The walls vibrated from the loud music, the pictures and paintings on the wall shaking to the bass of the music. “So.. Do you want Dean, just for tonight? Then, we can see if we should do it more often…”

“Jensen, please,” she pleaded, twisting her hands impatiently, half-heartedly trying to get out of his grip.

“Mm-mm,” he shook his head, quickly swiping two fingers through her wet folds. “It’s Dean, sweetheart.” His voice dropped slightly and his accent suddenly went away. She stared up at him, flustered and hot.

“D-Dean?” She stuttered shyly, grinding down on his fingers.

“Just.. a little more confident,” he smirked, moving his fingers to circle her clit torturously. She gasped, letting her head fall back against the wall with a quiet thud. The leather tightened around her thighs, preventing her from spreading her legs and she whined.

“Please,” she begged again, jutting her hips out so he’d stop teasing her.

“Not until you say my name, baby,” he murmured, then tapped her clit with his fingers a few times. She groaned in annoyance, her toes curling inside the boots she wore, her newly-dyed copper hair sticking to her face, from sweat that built up among the dancing people and now with Jensen’s teasing.

He pulled his hand away, but she didn’t stop squirming. Her eyes fluttered shut, thinking he’d stop teasing her by touching her and instead tease her by not touching her, but she gasped when he slapped her pussy. Her eyes snapped open and she looked up at him in surprise, a smug smile on his pink face.

She liked it and he knew it.

“Be a good girl and beg for it,” he mumbled, his voice deep and vibrating. When he rubbed his fingers against her heat, she knew it was just to prepare her for another slap. And as she’d expected, when she took too long to respond, he slapped her wet cunt again. The rough slap sent jolts of pleasure through her clit, causing her to moan.

“Please… Dean,” she whispered.

“That wasn’t so hard,” he praised mockingly, bringing two fingers to her entrance, “was it?” He slowly pushed them into her, but his lip to stop a moan when he felt her pussy clench around his fingers.

“No.. Dean,” she panted, lowering her hips to sink down his fingers faster. He laughed quietly at her eagerness and started to pump his fingers in and out of her, her slick already coating most of his fist.

“Jesus, baby, you’re so fucking wet.” He sounded breathless, his fingers tightened around her wrists and he plunged his fingers into her faster, flattening his palm onto her clit so it would grind onto it every time his fingers were buried deep inside her. His fingers curled against her walls, brushing over and over against the spongy surface inside that made her legs shake. A loud moan tore from her throat and he pressed his hips against her to grind his cock against her. “Who made you this wet, huh, sweetheart?”

“You…” she moaned, whining when he bit her jawline. “You, Dean,” she cried softly. He kissed her jaw lovingly and found her lips again to silence her moans as best as he could, even if no one could hear them over the loud music downstairs.

“Are you gonna cum on my fingers?” He teased, his warm breath fanning over her face. She bit her lip and nodded, her pussy tightening around his fingers. “You’re gonna moan my name when you cum,” he ordered, his nose tracing down the side of her face, nuzzling her neck to suck gently at her pulse point. “Say yes,” he murmured, gently nibbling on her earlobe.

“Yes, Dean,” she panted, shuddering when his warm breath made her sweat feel cool. He pulled away when he noticed her becoming tense, stared at her face and watched her eyes flutter open on cue.

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispered, admiring the way her swollen lips parted to moan—squeal—‘Dean’, her brows furrowed in pleasure as her orgasm moved through her body. Her eyes were pretty and wide, glossed over with a haze of lust and whiny unshed tears.

He let go of her wrists but she only wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and brought him down for a passionate kiss that made him breathless. Behind his eyelids, he could still see that beautiful look on her face and he ground his hips against her thigh, wrapping his arm around her with his fingers now slowly moving in and out of her, gently palming her clit as her walls fluttered around his fingers.

When she came down from her orgasm, he gently continued to palm her clit, in a comforting manner now. He dropped kisses over her face and moved her hair out of her face lovingly, before withdrawing both from her cunt and from her body to admire her postorgasmic glow.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said softly, his eyes flickering down to watch her lift her pants up her weak and shaky legs. “I’m not done with you yet, angel,” he reminded her with a little chuckle, looking down at his cum covered fingers, he rubbed them together curiously.

“We both know Dean is a sub,” she grabbed him by his flannel and pulled him into the closest room. He smirked at her words and let her lead as she shut the door and locked it blindly, focused on the searing kiss she distracted him with. With one hand he grabbed her waist and with the other he started to undo his belt eagerly.

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moralesmilesanhour · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!! I really liked your “Teamwork” piece could you write something else with Miles and how he is in that one? Like them going on a date-ish type thing or maybe just hanging out more in school, the counselors office thing was really cute. Every other fic I see paints him as this hard ass street type but him being nervous about things was refreshing to see!

Hey there, I'm really glad you enjoyed the series this much! I think we should all let hood boys be nervous and a bit weird :) Thanks for requesting!

date night with miles g !

Miles tapped his pen to his chin as he sat at his desk, staring down a little pad of sticky notes.

At the top of one of them, the words ‘Conversation Topics’ were written in neat print, followed by a series of bullet points detailing just that. He had decided that school talk was off-limits, but favorite shows were fair game. Music, of course, was a no-brainer.

Before he could come up with a third topic, a knock at the door interrupted his train of thought.

“Yes?” he called out. The door opened to reveal his mother Rio’s face, wearing a cheeky grin.

“Tu novia está aquí,” she said with a playful movement of her shoulders. “Don’t keep her waiting.”

She held back a laugh at the way Miles shot up from his swivel chair, shoving the sticky notes into the pocket of his leather jacket.

“See you later, mami,” he said once Rio opened the door wider to let him out, and he ducked underneath her arm.

“Remember, 9pm. Claro?”

“Claro!”

You squinted as the evening autumn breeze swept over your face. Massively underestimating how much leeway seventy-five degrees would give you, you had only gone out in a light blouse.

“Hey, Miles!” you called out from the open front door. You saw him padding down the stairs in his socks before stopping at the base. He beamed as soon as he spotted you.

“Hey! Just gimme a second,” he replied as he slipped on the pair of black and white Jordans he was holding and jogged up to you.

Miles looked down at your sneakers and whistled at their pristine, almost blue-white tone. It didn’t hurt that you were wearing the exact same pair.

“Nice kicks.”

You looked down at his feet and laughed, “They must be if you’re stealing them out my closet.”

“Aight,” Miles said as he hopped down one step. “You ready to bou–”

“Aht-aht!” you interrupted, tugging on the collar of his jacket to stop him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Miles pouted in confusion, which melted into a frown when the realization hit him. “We just goin’ out to eat! The food is gonna be right in front of my face!”

He knew that he was about to fight a losing battle when you crossed your arms. With a dramatic groan, he spun around and climbed back up the steps to go inside.

“Tienes suerte de que eres lindo,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

After a few moments, Miles was back with the case containing his glasses in-hand and a small black crossbody bag to keep them in. You raised an eyebrow.

“What? They’re right here,” he held it up for emphasis.

“Miles, we’re not leaving until they’re on your face.”

“Wooow.”

“I’m not kidding!” You laughed.

He opened the case and put the notorious green spectacles on with a huff, earning him a peck on the cheek.

“Alright, can we go now?”

“Yup.”

You gently took his hand and began tugging him along towards the nearest subway station.

“Where’s your jacket?” Miles asked, slowing you down to a stop.

“Look, I thought it was gonna be hot out. I’ll survive, I promise.”

Not even a moment after you had spoken, Miles was already in the process of removing his jacket. It was now your turn to groan.

“Come on now, you saw this coming,” he said with a triumphant grin as he draped the jacket over your shoulders. “No need to thank me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Such a gentleman.”

You thanked the server as she set down two plates of crab cakes in front of you.

“Whatchu wanna order for dessert?” you asked Miles, who still had his nose in the large menu with his brows furrowed. He looked up.

“Not a damn clue. I’ll get what you get as long as my card don’t max out.”

“Hm,” you turned to the dessert section of your own menu. “They got peach cobbler, how ‘bout it?”

Miles made a face at the suggestion, and your jaw dropped. “You don’t like peach cobbler?!?”

He shrugged. “Not a fan.”

“Well, okay, what about apple pie?”

“Nope.”

“Blueberry pie?”

“Nah.”

“Pumpkin pie?”

“Nuh-uh.”

You leaned back into your seat, thoroughly shocked and offended. “Fuck you mean ‘nuh-uh’?”

“Fruit just shouldn’t be hot,” Miles explained casually, “And Ion like the texture.”

You sighed, “Chocolate cake it is, then.”

He winced. “See, about that–”

Before Miles could cause you any further distress, he was interrupted by the server returning with the main entrees. You both said your thanks at the same time, each taking your respective plate.

"Anything for dessert?" The woman asked, notepad at the ready.

You gave Miles the side-eye before answering, "A bowl of ice cream, please."

"Same here."

The woman nodded and took note before leaving your booth.

“So, what foods do you like?” you asked, leaning forward again. “Other than the alfredo, obviously.”

Miles paused, looking genuinely deep in thought before replying.

“Arroz con gandules,” he counted on his fingers, “Platanos, of course, mac and cheese, and uh…”

He trailed off for a bit, having run out of meals to list off. “Other…stuff.”

You snorted, “Don’t push yourself too hard, now. I take it you’re a picky eater, then?”

Miles grinned bashfully. “I guess you could say that. You?”

“Nah, I’ll eat anything for real. Long as it fills my stomach.”

“Explains why you like eating baked fruit,” he quipped.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I have taste.”

That's it! Thanks sm for reading, pls feel free to reblog if you enjoyed this :) If you're curious about my other work, check out my masterlist!

#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x black!reader #moralesanhour #requests

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bazpango · 11 days ago

Text

Crack, cont'd: [aka the LightGojoverse, pt 3]

[part 1] [part 2]

Thursday

“Buddy, c’mon. Pencil moving.”

“They’re still on the weather!”

“Oh,” Satoru says, ducking his head out of the kitchen, “so they are.”

It's not that the kid's a liar, but it just so happens that today is Thursday, December 22nd; Fushiguro Megumi is officially twelve years old. A lot slides in the Gojo house on birthdays, but not homework.

Satoru darts out of the kitchen. Two plates of tamagoyaki balance on one arm, a leather crossbody is tucked under the other. A toothbrush hangs out of his mouth. He looks positively rabid, and the toothpaste foam isn't helping. “Eat up," he orders, tapping the still-blank worksheet, "this is due today, right?”

Megumi answers with a groan. His head thuds into the kotatsu, and yes, so it would seem this is due today. He is still in his pyjamas.

“I’m going to fail. Can’t I just skip?”

“Not if you want to go to the arcade after school,” Satoru hollers, already running out of the room again.

It's one of those mornings where it feels like the sky is falling. They're only a little late, but those extra thirty minutes—as a treat!—have set them back forty five. When Gojo returns, it is with two slices of birthday cake and a plastic bag.

"This is a lot of food."

"You don't have to finish what you don't want, but make a wish before the wax gets everywhere," Satoru says, passing Megumi his slice of cake, lighting the candle as he goes. He tosses the small plastic bag on the kotatsu, directly on top of Megumi's unfinished assignment. The kid's eyes light up the second he sees it.

"S'that my birthday present?"

"That?" Satoru jokes, acting quizzical, "Better open it and find out."

Like a dog at the races, Megumi snatches the bag and rips it open. The bow, the box, and the manual go flying.

"Holy shit!"

"Language, buddy."

"Sorry," Megumi says, and no he is not sorry one bit. He pulls out a brand new, state-of-the-art, Moto RAZR V3, smiling like, well a kid ought to. He doesn't smile nearly enough, and Satoru remembers why they're having refined sugar so early in the morning.

"Complete with MP3 and MPEG-4 accessibility. Do you like it?"

"What's that?"

Satoru shrugs between bites of Megumi's cake, he finished his already. "Uhh. The kiosk lady said it was good."

"It has games!"

"It does, only a few. Don't download anymore."

"Ok."

"And don't use the internet."

"Ok."

"And I put my number in there for emergencies."

"Ok."

"Do you want me to show you how to find it?"

"Ok."

"Hey," Satoru flips the phone closed, hands enveloping Megumi's. Maybe he should have said this part first. Even though Megumi doesn't much act like one most of the time, he is still a kid. "It's important you know how to reach me, if you ever need me. I'll always answer, and if I can't for whatever reason, it has Nanami's number as well. Okay?"

"Ohkaaaaaaaaay."

Next year Megumi will be a teenager. His body is already hinting at manhood, and Satoru realizes that when they go clothes shopping he'll also have to pick up a set of safety razors for the peach fuzz just sprouting on his bottom lip. It's bittersweet. Satoru takes another bite of cake.

"Hey," he repeats, dropping his hands and squeezing Megumi's shoulders.

"If you want to go to a friend's after school—"

"Ugh, stop."

"—or bring someone to the arcade tonight, just lemme know."

"Gojoooo."

"Okay, okay, s'all good. We're cool, we're cool." Satoru takes his hands off Megumi like he's touched a too-hot pan. Five years he's been negotiating. He knows when not to push, and has pushed already. "Just don't text too much, yeah?"

"Yeah."

The phone is for emergencies. That is what Satoru will tell him on the drive to school. But the lady at the kiosk was so very nice, and when she offered a—frankly, ridiculously expensive—payment package that included unlimited SMS messaging, Satoru grew hopeful and a plan unfolded before his eyes. Megumi's growing into his independent phase, and there's nothing like a little reverse-psychology to invoke a twelve year old to rebel against The Man.

Satoru is smiling wistfully, until the lady on the television throws back from the weather and Megumi's head snaps up. "I need to write this down."

"What, exactly?"

"We have to do a group broadcast at school, like we're on the news. Step 1 is to break down a real one."

"Cool."

"Another attack in Shibuya this week in what the NPA is suspecting to be connected to a series of terrorist attacks."

"Woah." Megumi grabs his pencil. "Cool."

Satoru turns around to face the television. "Not cool."

He doesn't watch the news, or television for the matter, often—more of a movie buff. Crime prevention is an industry that in and of itself is usually corrupt, and therefore there is no need for sorcerers to cooperate with civilian law enforcers. It's a one-sided agreement by sorcerers that everyone stays on their side of the fence.

Now that he thinks about it, his opinions aren't flattering about a lot of civilian systems. The police, the press, the man in the ugly brown suit and orange spray tan, they're all—in their own, rotten little ways—technically making Satoru's job harder. If it bleeds, it leads. Money makes the world go round, and fear makes the money. Etc. They're generating fear, in turn, making more curses. Hurting more people.

For a minute, Satoru thinks maybe it is better to just let the kid fail civics.

The ugly orange man throws to Cindy, a less ugly woman, and she is doing a live hit in some sort of conference room. Satoru, realizing that they're now running quite a bit more late than intended, buttons the last remaining of his shirt in a frenzy.

"We are just waiting for the Chief to take the podium…"

Megumi won't be attending Jujutsu Tech until he's of age, which is another year and a half of civilian school. The change will be disorienting, and there's a fear that Satoru's poisoning the well by letting him watch this stuff. He just had to let the kid's homework slip, and they just had to analyze a terrorist investigation. Maybe his teacher will award points for flair, if she's cool.

"Gojo?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Isn't that—"

"Yagami Light, Chief of the NPA is taking the podium now."

Holy shit.

Satoru's hands are stuck, frozen on the top button of his shirt.

"You need to brush your teeth. Get a move on."

"But my assignment?"

"Go brush your teeth," he orders, more stern than is deserved on one's birthday. He makes up for it. "I'll take care of your assignment."

"Fuck yeah."

"Language!"

"Sorry!" Megumi hollers, racing out of the room. Nearly bouncing off the walls with his new phone and newer found freedom. Fortunately, he is seemingly unfazed by the sudden outburst, even though it makes Satoru's chest clench.

He stares. Fixated. The man smiling back is Yagami Light, or someone wearing his skin. His smile is so big and white and foreign in its fakeness. It's fascinating.

He is wearing a dark gray suit (very, very well). His hair is pushed back into something professional and understated. Satoru can't quite believe this is the man who's bruised his prostate.

"What's wrong with the tv?" Megumi asks, brushing in the hallway.

Satoru picks up the remote and flips to another channel and back again, shrugging at Megumi. The more Yagami Light talks, the more pixels die in the operator's camera. He hadn't noticed. It gets so bad they have to cut the live hit short.

So, Yagami is the Chief of the NPA.

Looks like they both got a present.

---

Friday

"Find anything?"

"Light," Matsuda sags into his chair, hands anxiously stroking his thighs. He's wearing blue jeans. "I can't find someone with only one name to go on. I just can't do it."

"Sure you can," he counters, and Matsuda wilts. Eight days a week, he's useless, but it's when Light says he's capable that he really flounders. So much for positive reinforcement.

"Well, maybe I could conduct some interviews and build a profile, but you haven't even told me what kind of crime this guy's committed."

"It's complicated," Light says, "not impossible."

Today is Friday, and Matsuda is wearing blue jeans. Everyone is wearing blue jeans, except for Light. Friday is, by far, the most stressful day of the week, and today is no exception. The Monday-through-Thursday grind always lags until there is a comically large pile of shit to sort through before end of day. Whoever decided to throw Casual into the mix ought to be castrated. There is only so much time in the day to judge the wicked and punish the damned, and adding 'investigate one supposedly uninvestigatable fuck buddy' to the mix is just too tall an order, so he must rely on Matsuda today.

"It started with an S."

"Yes, I know," Matsuda nods, frenzied. Like he ought to get a gold star for listening.

"Can't you get the ball rolling with that?"

"S…Gojo. In law enforcement. Innnn…"

"Tokyo. A private company. Security, maybe." Light waves his hand like he's listing off grocery store ingredients. "Start there."

"There has to be dozens of companies like that, hundreds of emplo-"

"-Well it sounds like you better get a move on, then."

"I dont know, Light…"

"And what's the plan for you and Misa Saturday?" Light taps at his keyboard, copying several files to a thumb drive. The screen is bright, and he didn't sleep well, which is going to set him back even farther than he'd hoped. He's going to have to take his work home with him.

"Light," Matsuda exhales, "that's terrible."

"What?" Light spins in his chair to face Matsuda when he doesn't answer, and he looks like a sad, orphaned dog. To think he's in any place to judge anyone. He's wearing a Timex for God's sake.

"…You're really not going to spend Christmas Eve with Misa?"

"One more thing."

"Light!" Matsuda exclaims, switching gears when it's clear Light isn't going to dignify his asinine question,"we've talked about this."

"Have we?"

“I can't be your assistant."

"Sure you can."

Matsuda exhales, "are you alright?" and with it, the last of his dignity for the day. He might as well clock out so Light can lead the manhunt.

Light is not alright. Light is fucking fantastic; he is the Chief of the NPA, he is wearing a Balmain suitjacket in charcoal, and he got sucked off by his girlfriend before Matsuda even gained consciousness this morning. Perhaps he still hasn't.

"If you don't like our current assistant we can hire a better fit. She is still on probation."

Light scoffs.

"Did someone call for me?" Takada asks, rounding the corner with a tray of coffees in hand like some comic relief in a prime time sitcom.

"Flowers," Light says flatly to Takada, "Saturday. Order flowers for Misa."

Does he have to do everything?

Lunch passes into late afternoon without consequence, and Light works straight through it. The rope of his esophagus whines and he has to physically restrain himself from gagging. His stomach feels like it is eating itself, but minimizing the amount of actual work for the weekend is paramount, here. Work hard. Play hard. Fuck the big dick blonde so hard he goes cross eyed.

"Um, Light?"

He turns in his chair to meet Matsuda. Sheepish thing, he's poking his head through the door like he's expecting a firing squad on the other side.

"Did you eat?"

"No, did you?"

"Yes, um," Matsuda shakes his head, "Listen-"

"-Good," Light says, a stack of manilla envelopes beside him. He gathers them in his hands, and flutters them in the air with emphasis. "These came in an hour ago. You need to sort them before day's end."

"U-um," Matsuda stutters.

"Why do you look so queasy?" Maybe he gambled again on a bad seafood boil at one of the new street vendors. He's always gambling in the name of adventure. Adventure, on a plate? Sad.

"I, um. Well. Gojo-"

Light brightens, rising from his seat. "Oh, you found something-"

"-Is in the lobby."

"What?"

Matsuda creeks the door open until, sure enough.

Lounging on the three seater Corbusier in the task force's lobby is Gojo. He's dressed in a black overcoat and has chosen Cartier sunglasses, a Montblanc briefcase, and a comically large scarf to accessorize. "Hiya," Gojo smiles, teeth blinding, and Light drops the stack of casefiles. "Have you had lunch, yet?"

"Oh no," Matsuda exclaims, darting to the mess. "Sorry Light, I'll sort these right away!"

"Okay," Light hears his mouth say, but he doesn't feel it moving. If he had a nickel for every time an obsessive blonde invaded his personal life, well.

Matsuda stands, a massive unorganized mess in his arms, and whispers, "should I arrest him?"

"What, no?" Light barks. "What are you doing here?" he asks Gojo.

"I owe you a proper lunch," Gojo says, shrugging. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's four thirty."

"No time like the present, right?"

"…I have a lot of work to get through."

"Oh, work!" Gojo bursts, rising from his seat. "I have a tip for you, regarding the KIRA case."

Matsuda gasps, spinning on his heels. Three sheets of paper flutter to the floor. He drops to pick them up.

"Do you?" Light narrows his gaze, lost.

He doesn't like this, not knowing the rules, or even what game they're playing. Gojo is a loose canon, and there's a not so slim chance he's going to follow Light home. Part of him wants to take Matsuda up on his offer to put the guy in cuffs and throw him in a jail cell. Peace of mind and all that.

"Yeah, I saw you on tv when I was getting Megumi ready for school, he says hi by the way." Sure, Light thinks. "And I have a theory about KIRA that I think really holds water."

"Light, isn't that amazing? It's been months and," Matsuda pants, practically slobbering on the proverbial tennis ball, "we haven't had a lead since Ryuzaki di—"

"Fuck! Matsuda!" Light interrupts, and for fuck's sake, he's losing it. He's fucking shouted in the office and it's all too late. He never shouts in the office.

Gojo's leaning in the doorway to the task force, head tilted curiously.

"That your partner?" Gojo asks, and Light feels like his chest is caving in.

"No, that's Misa-Misa," Matsuda says, and if Light can't find a way to fire him by Monday he'll at least make sure the denim wearing fuck is drowning in General Data Protection and Confidentiality in the Workplace training.

"Oh!" Gojo says, surprised. "Misa-Misa, the idol?"

"Yeah!" Matsuda cheers, and Light might actually die.

"Wow, that's…wow."

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see all the skeletons falling out of Light's closet in rapid succession. "Did Megumi have a good birthday?" Light redirects, sweating.

"He did, we made onigiri and watched the Saw movies."

"You had something to say about the KIRA case," Matsuda prods, and Light exhales, relieved. He never thought he'd see the day he'd be thankful that Matusda is the one asking the questions.

"Yeah. But I actually just realized I need to be somewhere." Gojo drops his head slightly and his glasses slide down his nose. He makes direct eye contact with Light and his are so pointedly icy blue that Light can feel his blood run cold. "Maybe I can come by tomorrow?"

Light's phone sits heavy in his pocket.

"Oh, it's Christmas Eve, we won't be here." Matsuda explains.

"I'd be willing to make a house call," Gojo volleys. "Any plans tomorrow, Yagami?"

"Well, if it's pertaining to KIRA…" Matsuda considers, looking at Light and tapping at the stack of papers in his arms. He then takes in a sharp breath, and Light knows he's got an idea. "There's no way I'm getting through all of this today. Why don't we take his statement tomorrow, We can do dinner at my place! We'll do KFC!"

"Sure." Light grits his teeth, caught in so many crosshairs. "Great. KFC. Your place."

"Takada can give you my address," Matsuda says, struggling with the loose leafs.

"Sure, it's a date," Gojo says with a wink. "See you Saturday."

---

Saturday

"You made it!" Matsuda cheers, opening the door. His apartment complex is painfully ordinary. So is his sweater.

"Don't sound so surprised," Light chides. "Sorry we're late."

"You're right on time! Gojo and Megumi just got here with the chicken."

"G-"

"-We brought chocolates," Misa interrupts, and Matsuda gasps. They're like two kids during Show and Tell.

"Ooh, chocolates!" exclaims the disembodied voice of Gojo, inside Matsuda's apartment, and Light's entire body stiffens. They'd made a plan, albeit a ridiculous one. He shouldn't sound so surprised, even though he is. His phone vibrates in his pocket.

Gojo: so when u said saturday Gojo: this wat u had in mind ?

They make their way into the foyer, and Matsuda seals them in with the heavy thunk of a deadbolt. "Shoes off, please."

Light wants to keep them on just to assert his dominance. Matsuda's never ordered him to do anything before.

"I don't want food to get cold, but, do you guys want a quick tour before we eat?"

"Please! I can't believe Light and I have never been over!"

"He has a life outside of work, Misa," Light says, playfully. Cool as a goddamn cucumber. He takes off his shoes.

"Not really," Matsuda jokes, smiling depricatingly at Misa. Yeah, yeah, get a room, why don't you? "At least not with KIRA out there. Right, Light?"

"Right," Light placates, smiling stiffly.

They take a brief, unnecessary tour of the two bedroom, and then Matsuda and Misa abandon Light with Gojo and the kid in the living room. Light falls into a sofa chair as far away from anyone as he can manage. It is a small apartment.

"Long time, no see," Gojo says with a smirk. "You remember Megumi."

"Megumi," Light acknowledges. Jaw off kilter. He couldn't have gotten a sitter? "Happy belated."

The child plays on a cell phone, gangly legs hanging over the couch.

"Megs," Gojo warns, "someone is talking to you. Be polite."

The kid lowers the cell phone a single half inch, says thanks, flatly, and then resumes whatever game he was playing. So, that's what passes for politeness in the Gojo house. Parent of the year over here.

"How's work been?" Light asks.

"Oh, great."

"Catch a lot of bad guys?"

"Liars, cheats, and scoundrels, it's what I do best."

"Sounds like a lot."

"This month's been pretty slow." Gojo says with a smirk. "I've just caught the one cheater, so far."

Light's cheeks burn. Gojo looks good. He always looks good. It's annoying.

"What's he talking about?" Megumi asks Gojo, and that confusion in is tone makes Light smile.

"Your not-dad, he works in law enforcement."

"What? No he doesn't."

"-Don't worry about it, Megs," Gojo assures, crossing his arms. He's all smiles, too. Not disappointed in the slightest that he's been outed as a liar.

They're both smiling. Then Misa walks in and ruins everything.

"Who's hungry!"

---

Light is dead.

There is simply no other explanation.

It is Christmas Eve, and Light is eating fried chicken with his wine-drunk girlfriend, least favourite coworker, illicit fuck buddy, and his illicit fuck-buddy's bastard kid.

For the last forty minutes, Matsuda has been playing detective while Gojo has been playing footsies under the table.

"Misa," Gojo says, deflecting. "An idol, what's that like? It must be incredible."

"Oh," she hiccups, "I don't want to bore you! It isn't all that glamorous, really." Her other arm is stroking Light's back. Her nails are long and they come to a point at the end. It's something new she's trying out. Light instantly pictures medieval torture devices and wonders how much it would hurt if she tried to claw his eyes out with them.

"Nonsense," Gojo debates with a smug smile, egging her on, and Matsuda steps in to boast about his managerial expertise. He's drunk as well, satisfied with his interrogation of Gojo that yielded, as expected, no new insights into the KIRA case. The more he waxes on about Misa's success and his minimal part in it, the more exaggerated Gojo nods. His foot continues to travel up Light's pant leg as he feigns innocent and curious above table.

Light checks his watch for the umteenth time that hour. If he found a way to get Gojo's wallet, he could have everyone here dead in the next two minutes. Faces slumped into their plates. Death by fried chicken.

Gojo's foot climbs up his leg and settles between them. Light coughs into his wine.

"Are you alright, Light?" Matsuda asks, "do you need a glass of water?"

"Nope, I'm-" Light begins, and then Gojo takes his foot off the gas, only to press even harder on his dick. "M'good," he chokes out, coughing harder. "M'just gonna use the restroom. Excuse me."

The chair makes a sharp sound when Light extricates himself, and he thinks if Matsuda ever gets the balls to woo Misa proper, he'll send him a cheque for the scuffs. No one is the wiser when he leaves the room except for Gojo, smiling like the village idiot he is.

When he makes it to the restroom, he collapses onto the lid of the toilet and exhales, long and shaky. His pulse has quickened and it's making his skin hot. He undoes the top button of his dress shirt.

Knock, knockknock.

"It's me," Gojo whispers, and Light curses under his breath. He wants to run.

"C'mon, lemme in," Gojo asks.

The bathroom feels like a coffin. Everything is telling him not to open the door, but Gojo is knocking again and Light stands, unsure how far the sound of it travels in Matsuda's apartment.

His hand shaking on the doorknob, turnlock heavy under his thumb. He doesn't want to open it at all. "Fuckingfuck," Light mutters. His free hand pulls at his hair. The walls are closing in on him.

"What's going on? You ok?"

You, you're fucking what's going on. Light wants to scream, and he just might if Misa weren't here to run to his rescue.

His pocket vibrates.

Gojo: lemme in :P Gojo: plz ?

He's sweating and it's ruining his shirt. There's no way out. Bested, he unlocks the door and silently ushers Gojo into the bathroom.

"You're actually a stalker," Light chides, and Gojo laughs. "What's so funny about that?"

He has to argue at a reduced volume, but the disdain is there. He hasn't drank much tonight—a lesson learned from their first meeting that he can't trust himself when he does. Still, his cheeks burn like he'd raided Matsuda's liquor cabinet.

Gojo is smiling like he's won something, and says "you and Misa make a cute couple." L was a sore loser, but Gojo's a sore winner, and Light hates that far more. His jaw tenses.

"I like her." Snide bastard, he's smiling like he actually does.

"No you fucking don't," Light seethes.

Gojo chuckles, and it's a laugh he hasn't heard before. "You're really one to talk, Light."

"I don't know what you think you-"

"-Does it ever get tiring, lying all the time?"

"I haven't lied to you once."

"You have a fucking girlfriend," and finally, finally there's some grit in his voice, too. Light can work with that. Gojo's favourite toy has been taken away; it's understandable that he's lashing out. Light is everyone's favourite.

"Oh, I'm sorry? I didn't think it bothered you," Light barks, "seeing as how you were foot-fucking me under the goddamn table."

"You loved it."

"I-"

"You love making her look stupid. It's mean." Gojo steps forward and his hand swiftly goes between Light's legs. They can both feel the half hardness in his pants that Light can't explain. "See? You're a bad person," Gojo says under his breath, eyes searching.

"…Why did you come to my work?"

"Well, funny story. Someone made Christmas Eve plans with me and then cancelled. So."

"Rescheduled," Light corrects.

"It isn't rescheduling if you don't follow up with the person."

"I was going to."

"I don't believe you."

"So instead of, oh, I don't know, taking the hint, ygh-" Light looks for the words, which is hard to do when your balls are in a vice grip. He gestures wildly to the kitchen. "You decided this is how you wanted to spend your Christmas Eve?"

"Well, not exactly," Gojo admits, tilting his head. "But I think Megs is having a good time."

Light's voice drops low. They need to get out of the restroom. "I just needed to tie up a few loose ends. I was going to call. I really was." He isn't sure if he's lying.

The loose end scream-laughs in the dining room and the sound travels all the way to the bathroom. Matsuda's own laughter chases it.

"I'm sorry I, I didn't explain my situation," Light placates, musturing his most sincere, apologetic tone. Mercifully, Gojo's grip on his sack loosens. Hook, line, and sinker. "I couldn't have you over."

"No shit," Gojo grits.

"I was going to book us a place."

"Book us a place?" He sounds insulted. "That's just sad."

It isn't sad. It is discreet. At least it was going to be, but now everything is far more messy than it was twenty four hours ago. "What do you want from me?" Light scoffs.

"I w-"

"-A boyfriend?"

"Please," Gojo laughs, proper, and doesn't that just make Light furious. He crosses his arms, and Light is, truthfully, a little insulted himself the assault hasn't turned into him facefucking Gojo to tears.

"I…" Gojo thinks, aloud, "I just wanted something fun."

"We're having fun-"

"-No, we're not. This isn't fun for me."

"So why are you here?" And the way Light asks it makes him sick. He doesn't know why his tone has softened so much.

"I…like you, I think. I hate it."

"Wow, thanks."

"I feel like, like I'm going to insane lengths to get to know you."

"What if I don't want you to?"

"Why?" Gojo asks.

"Because," Light says, soft, "this is easy. This is working. Isn't it? We both get what we want, don't we?"

"What do I want, Light?" Gojo asks like he's on a full on soap opera. All big doe eyes and melodrama.

He thinks about the day they met, the way he waxed on and on about Suguru. Suguru, who he still has a chance with. Who's still alive and breathing.

"Your kid doesn't need a step-dad," Light cooes, something small and hateful and heavy in his gut. The indignation in his voice is completely invisible. He brushes the hair from Gojo's eyes. "This doesn't have to get any more complicated, right?"

"It already is complicated," Gojo says, quietly.

There's a silence, then, in the small bathroom, so big it feels like Light's eardrums might shatter. Gojo's head drops and for a second Light thinks he's going to attempt to hold hands.

"That's a nice watch," Gojo says, deflecting.

"It was a gift," Light submits, too unsure of where they're going to take pride in it. "My Dad bought it."

The room is tense and he doesn't want to give Gojo a tenth of what he is asking for. His eyes are sad and sullen and he feels like he is so far away. Light supposes he is.

A part of him is jealous of the very air that surrounds Gojo. Another part is afraid he'll be followed home and killed in his sleep tonight.

"He's gone now."

"How do you know that?" Light whispers.

"Death follows you, Light Yagami."

And then something truly frightening happens.

Gojo grabs his wrist, gently. His thumb swipes over the watch face, slow, and then hovers on the quick release mechanism. Light holds his breath. A piece of the Death Note is millimeters away, hidden in the watch's false bottom, and Gojo's looking right at it like he has x-ray vision.

Gojo is not an idiot. Not by a long shot. He knows far more about Light than he's letting on, and it's like Light's been walking around blindfolded all this time, completely unaware. If Gojo isn't a PI, he's some sort of cosmic karmic stalker sent from beyond L's grave to give Light his comeuppance. He's sure of it.

"What do you actually do for work," Light, voice shaky, asks. Desperate to know.

"Law enforcem-"

"Don't fucking lie to me," Light snarls, hands coming up to shove Gojo. But his hands don't even reach him in time to deliver their first blow. In a split second, Light's body is thrust into the wall and the wind is knocked from his chest.

He's sandwiched there, his little rabbit heart beats thin. Trapped in the gaping maw of a wolfhound, his ribs feel like they might break.

For a second, this is the first time he's ever felt close to death, and then he coughs and Gojo immediately lets up.

"Stop running from me," Gojo pleads, his breath hot on Light's ear.

He imagines his corpse splayed out on Matsuda's bathroom mat in a pool of his own blood. Misa, on hand and knee, wailing incoherently. He doesn't want her scream to be the last thing he hears.

"Gonna," Light heaves, "hear us."

"And that would be just terrible for you, wouldn't it?" Gojo taunts. Light coughs, and Gojo seems to ease up a bit. "She loves you, you know. You don't even care."

Light says nothing—not like he could—and Gojo shoves off of him, sickened. When Light turns around to face him, Gojo looks at him like he's killed a litter of kittens. His eyes are darting between his chest, the watch, and the dinner table. "There's something wrong with you, Light."

Light still says nothing.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" Light says. "You'll have to be a little more fucking specific."

Gojo shakes his head, and leaves the bathroom. Light is finally alone. His head is swimming, sick from lack of oxygen, and he tries to wretch into the sink but nothing comes out. When he looks in the mirror, he looks the same as he did when he entered. But everything feels off, now. He's been staring at this face for too long, a word on a page that's lost it's meaning.

When he thoroughly dusts himself off and finds himself back in his seat, Gojo is telling a story that has everyone belly laughing except for the creepy kid. He always looks at Light like he's seen a ghost.

Misa wipes a tear from her prettily made up eye with a talon. "I'm sorry you don't have a special someone to spend Christmas Eve with," she says to Gojo, and apparently it's up to Light to use context clues to figure out what they're talking about since no one wants to fill him in. "I feel like I don't know any of Light's friends at all."

"Well now we're friends, too," Gojo says to her, and he smiles. It's such a sad, pathetic little thing. "How did you and Light meet, anyway? I'd love to hear the story."

She shrieks, elated, and Gojo flashes a quick look to Light, as if to rub the salt in.

"It isn't very noteworthy," she jests to Light, all teeth and smeared lipstick. This isn't the first time she's tried to display her cunning. He could fucking strangle her. She knows he hates puns.

But he keeps his mouth shut and waits for this absurd conversation to run its course while he fills his mouth with sawdust.

"Are the potatoes alright?" Gojo asks Light.

"Perfect," Light says, "thank you."

"You just made a face is all."

Light wants to punch him in the face. He didn't make a face. Like everything, he is far too in control to ever let that happen.

But Gojo tries. He takes every opportunity to draw attention to Light every time Misa makes a particularly sappy comment about their romance. The conversation flows like bad wine and, after a bottle of it, things should feel easier, should they not? Misa hangs off Light's shoulder, and every single sentence that comes out of her mouth seems to make Matsuda shoot wine from his nose.

Matsuda excuses himself to the kitchen to clean up, and when he returns, he's brought dessert with him. Great, another course.

It's angel food cake. Decorated with strawberries and drizzled honey. Matsuda serves up a plate for everyone, saving the biggest for the kid, who actually smiles when he sees it. Light didn't know him capable.

There's a brief moment of silence as everyone takes their first bites. "Is it okay?" Matsuda asks, "I'm taking classes."

"Fantastic," Gojo cheers. "Could you teach me, sometime?"

"I'd love to!" Matsuda sings, forgetting his allegiances, and Gojo beams at Light. Yes, everyone fucking loves Gojo. He plucks a strawberry off his plate with his thumb and forefinger and brings it to his lips and Light wonders what Matsuda would do if he flipped the table.

“Light," Gojo asks.

"Yes?"

"How do you like your cake. Didn't Matsuda do a great job?"

It tastes like sandpaper. But he wasn't going to say anything. That would be rude.

“Oh no! Is it not alright? I thought it was your favourite.” Matsuda asks, and Light can't understand for the life of him why Matsuda would think that-

“Or was that Ryuzaki?”

“You keep mentioning him," Gojo notes, "who is he?"

From the uptick of Gojo's smirk, the colour has definitely drained Light's face. Strangely, the kid's head snaps up, then. He looks scared. What the fuck is going on?

“Oh, Ryuzaki's just an old friend of ours, he worked down at the station with us. Um, he," Matsuda explains, poorly, “he's no longer with us. We lost him in the KIRA case.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. My condolences.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you,” Misa assures, reaching a claw over the table to pat Gojo's hand. "Don't worry. It was a long time ago."

"Were you close?"

Matsuda waits for Light to offer an answer, and when he doesn't, steps in again. "Uhh, well. Light knew him better than the rest of us, but…But he was an all around great guy. Smartest I've ever met. Like, suuuuper smart. Amazing at tennis and chess and hacking and stuff. Just like, great at everything."

"Hmm," Gojo says, holding his dessert fork to his teeth. Light can't feel his fingers. "You guys play a lot of tennis?"

“Light doesn’t like tennis," Misa interrupts. Paranoid for God knows what reason. It isn't like L can just pop out of the grave and sweep him off to Wimbledon.

"Really?" Gojo asks, pivoting. "I thought you mentioned-"

“-I’m too busy for games," Light says, flatly.

"Are you now?" He says with more emphasis, suppressing a laugh. Eyes darting from left to right, thinking he's being subtle, or maybe not. It's good fortune everyone's had their fill of wine.

“I’ll say!" Misa steps in again, "now that Ryuzaki’s gone it’s like you live at the station.” She pours herself another glass.

“Misa."

“Yes, Light?”

The kid is looking at Light, no, looking at Light's watch, and something clicks. He doesn't know how, but he knows they know. It isn't paranoia. It's clarity. There is something very wrong with this family.

"Something isn't agreeing with me," Light announces, "I think it's time for us to go. Thank you for hosting us, Matsuda." He feels so sick.

"Oh no! Sorry I can't finish the story," she squawks, halting her pour. "I'll get the keys. Um, can you drive? I've had a couple glasses."

---

Streetlamps paint his face in burnt orange as he makes the thirteen minute drive home. Misa is curled up in a ball, sitting in a way that would have her killed if they got into an accident. The seatbelt would take her head clean off, emergency brake locking it in place and potentially severing her at the torso, too. It wouldn't hurt her, though. It would all be over far too quickly. Her nerve endings wouldn't have even a full second to sprint to her brain in warning.

"You seem off tonight."

"I'm fine," Light mumbles.

"Okay."

A few minutes pass in almost silence.

"Gojo is nice."

"Yeah."

"I invited him over next week," she utters, softly. Her voice is sad. Like she's waiting to see if she's in trouble. Light supposes if he had the energy, she would be.

"That's nice."

"Yeah, I thought it could be nice. The three of us."

The whirring of the road makes him feel like he's floating. She won't stop looking at him.

"Are you okay?" Light asks.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

He contemplates turning on the radio. The silence is awkward in a way it usually isn't, ever. He's probably imagining it. She's had a lot to drink.

"I'm sorry we talked so much about Ryuzaki."

"That's okay."

"…Do you miss him?"

"No."

"It's okay if you do. He." Her voice is chalky in the way it gets before she breaks out in tears. "…I think I kind of miss him."

"Misa," Light warns, "rest your eyes a bit. We'll be home soon."

There's a moment where she's pondering, eyes locked on Light's profile. He can always feel it when she's looking at him. She bites on her thumb and Light doesn't know if that's a little jab. Her taking her rebellion in spades and hiding it under a girlish ignorance. Neither of them willing to say the quiet part out loud.

"I love you," she says, and closes her eyes.

"You too."

---

He stares at the ceiling fan, watches it spin around and around and around.

Rise. Judge. Execute. Around and Around and Around.

Misa sleeps soundly next to him, a safe distance away in her own twin bed pushed up against his. Within arms reach, but never reaching.

He could have asked her Gojo's name on the drive home, but then she'd know.

It's a mournful discovery, how much she doesn't let on.

Gojo has to die.

---

thank you @shydroid3000 for being the best beta reader on god's green earth, may santa bring you lots of strawberries and doomed yaoi fics <3

#bazpangofic #death note x jjk #light yagami #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x light yagami #light yagami x satoru gojo #crack fic #crack treated seriously #also on a03 if you prefer that : )#the hockey au is coming along nicely

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