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heyheydidjaknow · 2 years

Text

I am sick and I am tired but I finished this and that’s what matters. My years of reading this sort of thing have not helped me even a little and while I resent that I am choosing to still use this as a learning moment because you only get better with practice.

There’s sex in this. Just, FYI.

Sleep

Six months.

You looked yourself over in the mirror, smoothing out your clothes. It had been half a year since you had your first date with your boyfriend. The goings had been rough so far, admittedly; having a partner that was never home was a challenge and your friends had all but deemed him to be a figment of your imagination, but you were sure he was real because today was the day you were meant to pick him up from the airport, which was the twenty-sixth of April, six months exactly after that first date.

He was arriving in the afternoon this time after an especially long stretch of no communication—nearly two months-- and in celebration, you had made cake: yellow cake with chocolate buttercream. You had tried adding a “Happy 6 Months” on top, but you were stupid and put it on too early so all the icing melted into a barely legible mess, which was not unexpected but ultimately incredibly disappointing. You knew he would not care even a little bit; taste, after all, is the most important part of any cake, and it tasted like a good box cake, so who were you to say anything?

The drive was dreary—rain—but not unpleasant. There was something nice about it, refreshing; this was the smell of growth. You had grown, you would say, since when you first met; you were certainly more patient than you had been when you first got together, had read more books, had tried to see more things with more people. Ironically, it seemed that your social life had improved since the two of you had gotten together, and for that, you could not be happier. You missed him more than you would like to admit, had hugged pillows and reminisced and all that, but you were not resentful. He had a job. He was busy and important, and if you had to wait a bit to spend time with him, then you would happily embrace the anticipation.

You parked, ran inside. This was the terminal; this was the time. You were ready.

You did not see him, at first. You were looking for black hair; he was wearing a green beanie and a mask and a sweater. When he first approached you, moving usually fast, your first reaction had been to move out of his way before he grabbed your arm and started pulling you along. The first word out of his mouth was, “Walk.”

You looked back at the terminal, expecting someone to be following him. There was not. You followed. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” His grip tightened as the two of you began to walk closer in step. His voice was noticeably fragile. “Nothing. Just keep walking.”

You did. Taking the lead, the two of you made your way to the car.

He pulled off his mask as he sat down, face red. He shook out his hair, sniffed, rubbed his nose, stared down at his lap.

You did not start the car.

He folded his legs on the seat, wrapping his hands around his ankles. “How have you been?”

You glanced at him, almost nervous to look at him for too long. “Fine.” You leaned back in your seat as a car drove by. “What’s with the getup?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s warm out and you’re in a sweater and a beanie.”

He sniffed again. “It’s a style.”

“It’s a getup.”

He looked out the window. “It’s comfortable.”

You took the neckline of the sweater, gently tugging him towards you. He did not resist, head leaning against your shoulder as you pulled him into a one-armed hug. “You were crying. Why were you crying?”

He wrapped his arms around your neck, shifting so that he was leaning over the center console. “It’s nothing.” His voice was soft. “I promise, it’s nothing.”

He lied to you a lot. He was not particularly good at it, but he sure did try.

You leaned away from him, running your fingers through his hair—greasy—so it would go back to where it normally sat. “You don’t have to tell me right now.” You kissed him on the forehead, settling back into your seat. “Just know that if you need to, I’m here, alright?”

He folded his legs again, nodded. “I will.” He sniffed one last time, exhaled sharply, and looked back at you. “How have you been?”

“Same as always.” You started out of your spot. “My friends are starting to think you aren’t real, though.”

He snickered. “What a horrible thing to do, lie to your friends. How could you?”

“It’s hard to look at myself in the morning,” you sighed dramatically. “But we can’t all be saints, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately.”

This sort of menial conversation went on for quite some time as the two of you caught back up to speed. He was oddly closed-lipped about it this time around. It was not atypical for him to skimp out on details regarding his work, but he usually at least told you the basics: the type of climate in which he was staying, how his room was, whether the food was any good, how Watari was doing. This was not for lack of interest; you tried to ask him at least enough so you could form a mental image of what he might have been up to, but whenever you asked his answers were frustratingly vague; what little you could tell is that his room was hot and the internet was spotty, which did not narrow where he was down.

The two of you got home. He dropped his bag by the door, and before you even had the chance to properly step inside, he was on you, arms wrapped around your waist and face in the crook of your neck.

You did not say anything, kicking the door closed and stroking his head. “What, miss me?”

He nodded silently, grip around you tightening.

“I made cake.” You nodded at the kitchen. “You want cake?”

He nodded again.

“The cake is in the kitchen,” you stressed. “Which means we need to walk to the kitchen.”

He let out a quiet groan.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s five steps, you big baby. You can do it.”

He did not move.

You sighed in inflated exasperation. “I can’t carry you, you know; you’re too heavy.”

“I love you.” His fingers gripped the back of your shirt, voice muffled. “I love you more than cake.”

You felt heat creep up your neck. “You do?”

He nodded. “I do. You’re warm.”

“You’re weird.” You furrowed your brow. “Are you sick or something?”

“No.” You felt him smile. “You might be, though; you feel like you have a fever.”

Your voice raised. “You be quiet.” You huffed. “And here I was, making a cake in the early morning like a psychopath for you. You suck.”

“Not yet I don’t.”

“Shut up or I go without you.”

Reluctantly, he pulled away letting you actually enter the apartment before locking the door. “You’re very cold today.” He wrapped his arms around your arm, offering you more mobility.

“I’m not.” You headed to the kitchen. “You’re just weirdly touchy. When was the last time you slept?”

He considered it. “A week ago.”

You took a knife from a drawer. “And the last time you had real food?”

“A month ago.” He rubbed the side of his calf with his foot. “I had a stick of beef jerky and a bag of spicy chips to give myself a break as you told me.”

You put the knife back. “Alright, here’s the game plan: we’re gonna get you fed and watered and we’ll just turn in early. Deal?”

He scratched the back of his head, eyes unfocused. “I won’t sleep.”

“Bullshit.” You smiled, proud of yourself for knowing. “You only last a week at a time maximum; you’ll collapse any minute now.”

“I won’t,” he repeated calmly. “I haven’t slept properly for six weeks.”

Your stomach dropped. “Why?”

He sighed, reaching with one hand for the refrigerator. “Lots of reasons.” He pulled out a container, looked it over, put it back. “I dislike sleep at the best of times; I actively avoid it, as a matter of fact.”

You closed your eyes, reminding yourself that, despite all facts suggesting the contrary, your boyfriend was an adult capable of making his own decisions about his health and that you had no right to yell at him about he chose to live his life. You took a deep breath. “Why do you dislike sleep?”

He paused. “I’m not sure how to explain.” He was not typically this picky with what he ate; he seemed to be looking for something specific. “I am what you might call a somniphobe.”

You were unsure that was a real word. “Why would you fear sleep?”

“A lack of awareness of my surroundings, sleep paralysis, dying in my sleep, nightmares.” He set his desired container on the counter: a container of something you had made a few nights ago. “Mostly just nightmares; unfortunately, I have a good memory, so my dreams are vivid.”

“Fun.”

“That’s certainly an adjective.” He stuck the container in the microwave. “So, for about twenty-five hours at a time every week or so— that is to say, when I am forced to sleep— I am in hell. While typically I can stand sleep, because of work-related matters, my night terrors have gotten worse, so sleep has become unbearable, and because sleep is unbearable, I don’t sleep.”

“So you’re just in a great head space.”

He smiled tiredly. “In all fairness, I doubt sleeping in the same position as I work helps.”

“Probably not,” you agreed. “As someone he cares about you, this is incredibly troubling, for the record.”

“I can only imagine.”

You swallowed. “Have you tried exercising before you sleep?”

He let go of you to grab his food. “Let me put it to you this way.” He grabbed a fork. “Remember how I picked you up at the fair the one time?”

You nodded.

He took a bite, speaking behind his hand. “My job is almost entirely sedentary. The reason I am as strong as I am is that I have taught myself various martial arts in my spare time.” He swallowed. “Tasers are typically more effective than martial arts in close quarter situations and I certainly don’t need to know more than one form. Before I met you—even during our relationship, while you were asleep—if I had any energy in my body after work, I tried working it out of me. Still, I had night terrors.” He took another bite. “I have tried just about every medication on the market and then some; they also have not helped with night terrors. I have, over the years, bought enough therapeutic tea to last the rest of my life, and even then, I can’t fall asleep comfortably. I doubt there is anything that I could feasibly do apart from physically knock myself out to avoid it.” He shrugged at your horrified expression. “It’s unfortunate, but it’s an inevitability; it’s not something to worry about.”

You laughed incredulously. “Oh, I think it should be.” You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your palms. “For fuck’s sake—how long was it gonna take for you to tell me?”

“I wasn’t planning on telling you at all.” He was going through the container fast. “I was planning on abandoning the possibility of sleeping peacefully until I die.”

You took another deep breath. “Love,” you sighed, lips twitching into a smile, “I hope you know that some of the things you say take years off my life.”

“Hence my not wanting to tell you.” He swallowed his last bite of food, setting the container on the counter. “Again, it’s not anything to concern yourself about; unless you have a suggestion for a more effective way to force my body asleep, there’s no use worrying about things you can’t change.”

“I—” You paused, a thought occurring. It was a stupid idea. You knew it was a stupid idea when you thought of it; you sincerely doubted he had not tried it. Still, you considered it an option worth considering if nothing else was working.

He grabbed your arm again, pulling himself to your side. “Please, don’t worry about it.” He kissed your shoulder.

Your hands dropped to your side, face warming. “I have a theory.”

“Hm?”

You looked down at your feet. “The things you just listed—exercise, candles, drugs—is it possible they don’t work because you’re actively thinking about sleep?”

He chewed at his fingernails absentmindedly. “Elaborate.”

“Well,” you continued, “typically it’s harder to sleep when you’re thinking about sleeping. Sleep isn’t an activity; sleep is a state of relaxation your body reaches. It’s why people who are stressed all the time have hard times sleeping, because they are actively thinking about things, including sleep, which keeps them from reaching that state.”

“Sure.” He wiped his hand on his pants.

“Well, you think a lot.”

“Astute observation.”

You ignored him. “If you’re thinking a lot and doing a lot of things to compare methods to get yourself to sleep, you’re going to have a hard time sleeping, since instead of relaxing yourself, you’re making it work.” You twisted a bit of hair around your finger. “So, if we wanted to find a way to make sleep easier for you, it would make sense that the solution would be to find an activity that forces you to release a lot of energy while actively taking your mind off of sleep, something that necessitates being present and not thinking about much else.”

“Such as?”

You cleared your throat, shifting a bit on the spot. “Well,” your voice lowered, “sex would probably work.”

He did not respond.

“Love?”

Still nothing.

You waved a hand in front of his face, trying your best to play this cool. “Love?”

“Hm?” He looked over at you, blinking as if he had been broken out of a trance. “Sorry; lost in thought.” He took a step away from you, face growing noticeably redder. “I don’t think I quite caught that last part; could you repeat yourself?”

You looked back down at your feet. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You kicked the floor. “It’s just an idea. When I feel stressed or I can’t keep my head straight, I know masturbating usually helps, so I figured—you look like you’re going to pass out.”

He leaned against the counter as a novice roller-skater might the wall of the rink. “I don’t know what you are referring to.” He turned in your direction. “I—yebat, I…” He paused, took a breath. “I just… I believe this is the first time I have been propositioned for sex.” He laughed, anxious. “You know, when you see other people do it— handle these sorts of situations, I mean—you think that those who do not act particularly gracefully are just generally obtuse. This is likely due to the tendency of audiences to respect and flock towards men who are suave as opposed to those who are not. Unfortunately, it appears that I belong to the latter camp.”

You grabbed his discarded container, disposing of it properly. “You don’t have to agree, you know.” You were sure your attempt to seem confident was quickly failing. “I just—well, I figured it was worth throwing out. I just wanted to give it as an option.”

“I know.” He scratched at his neck. “I know that you have no intention of pressuring me. Words are just failing me is all.”

You nodded. “I get that.” You laughed, flustered. “I don’t usually proposition people for sex; I’m sorry if I did a bad job.”

He was quick to refute you. “You did an excellent job, given the circumstances. You are handling this situation much better than I am, which is a low bar to clear, but a bar nonetheless.”

You sighed. “How about we just agree that we both kinda suck at this?”

He was almost indignant. “No. We are doing fine at this.” He stood up properly. “We are just inexperienced; with practice, we will be able to handle the transition from general conversation to sex smoother.”

You gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Love the energy.” You could practically feel steam coming out of your ears. “So, we’re doing this?”

“If all of this talk has not put you off, Ii sure would like to.”

“It has not.”

“Then yes, we are doing this.”

You looked around. “What, in here?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Probably not. If the end goal is to fall asleep it makes more sense to do this in the living area or the bedroom.”

“Dope.” You nodded, holding your hand out for him. “You’ve never been in my room, have you?”

“I have not.” He took it. “I have also not slept in a bed since I was seven; I apologize if I turn out to be a bad bed-mate.”

You pulled him along behind you. “Do you kick in your sleep?”

“No.”

“Then you’re fine.” You pushed the door open. Your room was certainly a room in which you slept. It was, admittedly, not as tidy as it could be, seeing as you had not been expecting visitors, but it was your room, decorated how you chose, warm, cozy, and respectable for those traits exclusively. You gestured to it with your free hand, pulling him over the threshold without much fanfare. “The bed.” You let go of his hand, walking back to shut and lock the door. “Make yourself at home. I’d offer you a drink, but I think that comes after.”

He just stood there in the center of the room. He had that look on his face again, the one he used on you when the two of you first met; cold eyes scrutinized every surface of the space, studying everything from whatever you had hanging on the walls to the bedspread.

A different sort of embarrassment spread through you than the one you had been experiencing before. “It’s not that bad.”

He glanced back at you. “I never said it was bad.” He took one last look around the room. “You can tell a lot about a person from how they keep their room. Your room is very fitting; I like it.”

“Oh.” You nodded, taking a step away from the door. “Then thanks, I guess. You can sit down, you know.”

“Sit down?” He blinked. “Sex. We’re here because we’re going to have sex.”

You nodded, sitting down on the bed. “We are.” You patted the spot next to you, straightening your back. “Sit.”

He did.

“Alright.” You set your hands on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’m not the most sexually experienced person in the world, so bear with me here.”

“Neither am I.”

“Figures. Are you a virgin?”

“I am not.” He looked down at his hands. “Admittedly, my first sexual experience was not particularly romantic—I did it for the sake of it— but I think I am generally familiar with the mechanics of it.”

“Cool.” You nodded, wanting to die. “Cool.”

There was an awkward pause between the two of you. For once, at least, you were sure the both of you felt it.

He turned to face you properly. “Am I allowed to touch you?”

You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Consent is important.”

You swallowed, nodded. “Yes, you can touch me.”

He scooched over to you. Tentatively, he took your face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs along your cheekbones. “Your skin is soft,” he noted conversationally.

You snorted.

He cocked his head to the side, turning your head so he could more easily see your jaw. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” you smiled, tension melting away. This was ridiculous. “It’s just that I think you’re the first guy I’ve been with who’s given me a free physical.”

He looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I’m not giving you a physical,” he explained. “I’m planning.”

“Planning what?”

“Nothing in particular.” He brought your head back to its original position. “But according to you, the purpose of this exercise is to get me to focus on something besides my work and besides sleep. You can at least let me plan.”

You put your hands up. “Look, I’m not complaining about you being thorough.” You leaned into his touch. “It’s one of your better qualities, I think.”

He focused back on your face. “Is that what you see in me? My tendency to be thorough?”

“Stupid question.” You held your hands behind your back, letting him analyze you for once. “I think you’re great whether you’re thorough or not.”

He stared at you. “Then what do you see in me, exactly?”

“I think you’re beautiful.” You met his eyes. “And I love how your mind works. You make me happy, and that’s all I could want in a lover.”

He kept eye contact. “Is that all?”

“It is.”

It took him a second to process what you said. When he spoke again, it was slow, deliberate, as if he were struggling to come up with the words. “May I kiss you?”

You nodded. “You may.”

He was gentle. From the way he was moving, you doubted it was for your benefit; you could feel the slight tremor of his hands as he moved his lips to yours, how he practically melted against you. You propped yourself up with your arm, using your free hand to grip the front of his shirt loosely. From where you sat, it was, for once, abundantly clear that this was his first proper kiss.

He pulled away first, eyelids drooping. “I think,” he breathed, sounding almost drunk, “that your theory has legs.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around him and pulling you two both down on the bed. You rolled on top of him, arms caging him in. “You think?”

He smiled, and for once, you could identify the look on his face: adoration. “I do.”

You pressed your lips back against him, unable to hold back your smile at the way he wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you even closer. As the two of you finally fell into a rhythm—albeit not without fumbling and apologies and awkward laughs—you felt your moods shift from giddy excitement to a slowly growing hunger. You pressed further down into him, letting him clutch at your shirt as you slid a knee between his legs, eliciting a quiet gasp as you ground it into him.

Abruptly, he pulled away, eyes wide. “Wait.”

You froze, breathing heavily. “Yeah?”

He sat up, you coming with him. He took a moment to breathe. “Protection. STDs, STIs. Do you have a condom?”

You blinked. “Oh. Right.” You nodded, climbing off the bed and stumbling to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

He watched you leave from the bed, chest pounding. He fiddled with his shirt, looking back around the room, eyes settling on a mirror. He stood up, walked over to it, checked his reflection. He looked about the same as he expected: half dead with just a bit more color than what was typical. He pushed the hair out of his face as if that would make him look any less like a slightly more healthy corpse. In the past, even when he was a teenager, he had never been particularly bothered by how he looked; he rarely left hotel rooms long enough to care, and when he did leave the house it was never intending to impress. Still, here he was, in your room, nitpicking over an appearance that you were clearly not repulsed by if your enthusiasm was any indication because of an otherwise nonexistent insecurity. He supposed this was a sign of growth. It was typical for men his age to be insecure about their appearances; this was just the first time he had personally experienced it. If he were anyone else, he supposed that fixing the issues that he was observing— a lack of muscle mass, greasy hair he had not cut for years, dark circles under his eyes— could be remedied with a changing of lifestyles. This would imply, however, that the maintenance of such a lifestyle would be possible for him which, given how he had the impulse control and discipline of a toddler, was just about impossible. This would also imply that making an effort to take time to invest in something as objectively meaningless as his appearance was at all reasonable, which was ridiculous to think, and that he cared any more about the relationship than he already did, which he was adamantly against for pettiness’s sake.

Not that any of it mattered. At the end of the day, even if he were the most attractive man on the planet it would not make up for all of his other shortcomings. A more attractive man with a profession less likely to get you killed by a sadistic monster with the drive to murder everyone he ever loved— however useless that drive may be, given the circumstances— would come along and sweep you off your feet and so long as he treated you well that was fine by him. Still, he wished he had better odds than he did.

He just about had a heart attack when you came back in, lost in thought. “Alright, so I brought five.” You held up the packages, tossed them onto the bed. “We probably don’t need five but I figured better safe than— what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He took a step back as if guilty of something, hair falling back over his face. He cleared his throat, sticking his hands back into his pockets, unusually nervous. “Five is a lot.”

You nodded, starting to fiddle with the buttons on your shirt. “I know. Again, preparedness.” You glanced from the mirror to him and back. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use a mirror.”

He looked down at his feet. “I don’t have much use for them.”

You made an active effort to not make this situation any more awkward than necessary, fingers making easy work of your top. “And why’s that?”

“I don’t leave the house much. There—“ He looked back up to see you, paused for a second to look at your chest, realized what he was doing, looked back down, and carried on with his sentence, face reddening again. “There isn’t much use in looking good if you aren’t leaving the house.”

You considered it. “That makes sense I guess.” You shrugged, unbuttoning your shorts. “I guess it depends on the kind of person you are. Do you own a mirror?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t leave the house much.”

You leaned down slightly to get yourself into his frame of vision. “You can look at me, you know.”

He scratched at his hair. “See, logically, I know that, but illogically, I’m worried about looking like a pervert to someone who just took their clothes off in front of me.”

You could not hold back your grin. “What does that make me, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re a pervert,” you repeated, taking a step towards him, “what does that make me?”

He stared at the ground, trying to come up with an answer. “Reasonable,” he decided.

“Mhm.” You held your hands behind your back, eyes softening. For someone so obviously capable, there was something nice about seeing him so obviously unsure of himself. He was, by your count, only inexperienced with two things; you were hardly about to complain about him being bad at something else. Still, you made an effort to be gentle. “You know, we don’t have to do this.” You took another step towards him. “I mean, the plan is obviously working, but that doesn’t mean we have to go all the way. You’re allowed to call it off whenever.”

He tugged at his shirt collar absently. “I know.”

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

“Alright.” You kept your voice soft. “Are you okay with seeing me like this, then?”

“I am.”

You reached forward, tilting his head up to look at you.

This look, you were unfamiliar with. It was not the same as his typical clinical stare, but they were not necessarily unrelated. The only difference was that this look was a bit warmer and a bit softer, the intent not to dissect and analyze, but to memorize, to drink in. Oddly enough, he did not look as lustful as he did fascinated, as if you were a piece of fine art as opposed to a sexual partner. The way you felt under his eyes, too, was not dissimilar to how you felt typically— nervous at the attention, slightly off balance from the intensity of it all— only now you felt as if you understood the intention for the most part, less like a creature to be dismembered and more like a painting on display.

You stepped back. You raise your arms, giving him a little spin to give him a full look at your body. “Like what you see?”

He did not respond, only taking your hands and gently tugging you closer to him, your chests pressing against one another. He wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you into a tooth-achingly sweet embrace.

You responded in kind, linking your hands together behind his back. “So.”

His voice was muffled. “So.”

You leaned closer to his ear. “How do you want me?”

He seemed to seriously consider it. “On top,” he decided. “If I fall asleep, then I won’t fall on you, and there’s a higher likelihood of me hurting you than you hurting me.”

You rolled your eyes, words teasing. “Sound logic. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Would you rather I crush you?”

You sighed contemplatively. “I mean, yeah, but not today. Another time.” You kissed him on the cheek, letting go of him. “Well, lie down; I can’t ride you standing up.”

He started unbuttoning his pants, the subtle tremble in his fingers not lost on you despite his general outward indifference. “For someone so quick to mock rational thinking you are very frank about this.”

“Would you rather I not be?” You waved it off, deciding that staring at his crotch was probably not the most polite thing you could do for the poor man. “I could make a big thing of it, but then I’d be setting a precedent that, honestly, I don’t want to set.”

“Sound logic,” he repeated back to you, stepping out of his jeans. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You crossed your arms, looking up at the ceiling in an entirely hypocritical show of modesty. “I didn’t say I was any better.”

“No, you implied it.” He sat down on the bed, crisscrossing his legs on the mattress. “I have a proposal.”

You straddled him, sitting down on his lap before reaching for a condom. “Listening.”

You were genuinely impressed by how matter-of-fact he kept his tone. “Seeing as I am likely much more sensitive than you are, I would like to suggest that I make you orgasm before we proceed.”

You swallowed. “Interesting. How?”

“I’m fairly dexterous and I have long fingers.” He looked over your shoulder. “This will also make what comes after easier, I suspect.”

You were conscious of how eager you sounded. “Can't argue with that.”

He picked you off his lap, setting you on the edge of the bed before kneeling on the floor in front of you.

He approached this task the same way he approached just about every task you had ever seen him handle, i.e. via a faithful use of the scientific method. His actions, to you, were unusually coordinated, running his hands along your skin and applying controlled pressure to certain areas, and taking mental note of how you reacted. He only took about thirty seconds on any specific method, constantly changing locations and patterns and speeds to find what worked for you, and when he found out what did work— which took him about two minutes of fiddling on his end and two minutes of quiet reassurance on your part— it took you an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to unravel, balling the sheets under you as he adjusted, took note, adjusted again. Your high came fast and surprisingly hard, and from his quietly satisfied expression— the same you would expect from him if he had solved a particularly difficult puzzle— you had to wonder if he had studied beforehand.

As you struggled to remember how to think, he pressed a kiss against your thigh, standing up and sitting down next to you. Curiously, he looked at the hand he had used, now covered in a mortifyingly thick layer of your drippings, and brought it to his mouth. He tasted it, paused, considered it. “Salty,” he decided. “Not overwhelmingly so, but it’s a distinctive taste.”

“Oh.” From the way the blood was rushing to your face, you considered if, between the two of you, he was the least prepared one. “Well, ain't that something.”

He glanced over at you innocently, continuing to clean his hand. “Oh, are you worn out already?”

You glared at him, heart still racing. “Fuck you.”

He wiped the excess off on his pants. “That is the next order of business, isn’t it?” He scooped you up, setting you back down on his lap. “Like this, right?”

Shaky hands gripped the front of his shirt. “Lean back on the pillow so if you fall asleep, then you don’t wake up with a bad back.”

He smiled. “You’re seriously concerned about me getting a bad back from that of all things?”

“Don’t make me drag you.”

He sighed, moving the two of you back and onto the bed, you still solidly on his lap. Carefully, clumsily, you tore the wrapper. Your hand reached down to fish his dick from his boxers.

You paused. “Huh.”

He shut his eyes. “What?”

“It’s bigger than I expected.”

His face reddened. “Should I take that as an insult?”

“No,” you backtracked quickly, pulling the wrapper open, “but your diet isn’t the best so I just figured it wouldn't be very big.”

“Penis size is genetic.” He looked over at one of the walls, the back of his hand laid over his mouth. “While lifestyle has some impact on its size, unless we’re talking about malnutrition, what matters is testosterone levels, and while that is something that—“

You slid the condom on in one move of your hand.

The man under you let out a gasp, shutting him up for the first time in your recent memory.

You smiled, kissing him on the forehead. “That’s all very interesting,” you purred, “but let’s save the biology lesson for after we get you to sleep, alright?”

His voiced raised an octave. “Alright.”

“Good boy.” You sat back up, placing your hands on his chest. “Are you all settled in?”

He closed his eyes“Mhm.”

“Okay.” You swallowed, reaching back with one hand to line yourself up with him. “Ready?”

After a few seconds, he nodded.

It was slow work, sliding down onto him. You had completely overestimated your capacity for this sort of thing; your attempt to just take it was impeded by your inability to stretch that far, and while you were stuck trying to take slow, even breaths and relax enough to get his appendage info you at all, your normally much more level headed partner appeared to be having a significantly harder time than you were, and though his voice was low— a problem not helped by his covered mouth— you did catch a couple of adjectives, “warm” being the most prolific.

He lasted a shocking amount of time. It was not enough time for you to get into it, but from how he was acting before you assumed he would barely go for a minute.

The first thing out of his mouth after you climbed off of him was an apology. “I am proving to be a horrible partner.” He rolled over, watching with unusually bleary eyes as you cleaned up. “I promise that I will make an effort to be better at this sort of thing in the future.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You picked your clothes off the floor, tossing them in a pile to be washed. “You got me off before; you’ve got nothing to apologize for.”

“In your opinion.”

You stretched your arms above your head. “My opinion is that one that matters.” You sighed, smiled. “Besides, I don’t care. I like you whether or not you’re good at sex.”

His legs curled up towards his chest, not unlike how he sat usually. “That’s how marriages end,” he pointed out. “Small things build up over time.”

You sat down on the bed, crawling over him to where you usually slept. “I will remind you that we are not married.” You slid under the covers, facing his back. “So, until we are, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

He rolled over to face you, a fair distance away. “I would rather worry about that than most of the things I worry about.” He cleared his throat. “But worry in general wouldn’t help, I suppose. When under long periods of stress bodies tend to produce increased levels of the hormone cortisol which decreases libido, so if I were to hypothetically stress out about it I would probably only be exacerbating the problem. Not to say that I still won’t, but that’s an aspect of this worth considering.”

You reached over, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I only slightly understand the words that you’re saying because I’m tired but I want you to know that I love you regardless.”

His face warmed under your fingers. “That’s good. I would hope that this far into our relationship you would be at least somewhat fond of me.”

Your eyes slid shut. “I am somewhat fond of you, yeah.” You relaxed into the bed, ignoring the fact that it was probably barely sunset outside. “I hope I’ve been pretty clear about that.”

He watched you. “You have been.”

“That’s good.”

He nodded, taking your hand gently and holding it under his against the mattress. His thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I think so too.”

You fell asleep before he did. That was fine. It was soothing in the same way the sound of rain or the ocean was soothing, watching as your chest rose and fell in a soft, slow, vaguely regular rhythm. Your breathing, he noted thankfully, stayed fairly even over the course of his brief observation. You were sleeping soundly.

He did eventually fall asleep. It took a longer time than usual, having to choose to fall asleep as opposed to pushing himself to stay awake for another hour or two or twenty, but he did manage to at least doze off. There was an advantage to sleeping next to you, he found; there was something comforting about being able to immediately confirm that his nightmares were just nightmares, to be able to squeeze your hand and remind himself that you were still a living, breathing person with a pulse as opposed to a mutilated corpse. This did not dispel all of the possible tortures his mind was fond of coming up with— his more ingrained memories still made their usual appearances— but at least there was something to ground him in reality.

He fell asleep of his own volition, at least. That was a start.

Previous Works

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kkoen · 2 years

Note

THREESOME WITH L AND LIGHT!! BOTH DOMS!! with fem!reader who has a praise kink, plss

OMGGG STOPP BC THAT WOULD BE- <33333

Includes- Threesome, SMUT, praise kink, dom and sub dynamics, KINDA ANIME SPOILERS!?!, Petnames, established relationships, swearing, Fem!reader, kinda forced sex?,possessive!Light Yagami, Misa just doesn't exist in this fic, oral sex F!Receiving (let me know if I missed anything!!) not proof read

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙩? 𝙏𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙! -> ko <3#4009

↷ ·˚ ༘ :: 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 :

a/n; omlll Iv'e been so unmotivated to write but requests are keeping me from stopping <3333 On another note... We're almost at 100 followers <333 I literally can't thank all of you enough for the love and support you guys give me! Ill keep it at that but TYSM <3333

WARNING!!! NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 DNI

With everything going on in the world with knowing what your lovers, Light Yagami. You know he'd never do anything you wouldn't want to do. You've gave your consent every time he needed it.

though if we are being honest, it's always been out of fear, of course you loved him and felt safe.

It seemed as though he was subconsciously telling you what to do.

As you've grown with him you've learned that you crave the praise he gives you after you say "yes"

"You're always such a good girl for me, always letting me do whatever I want to your pretty body."

he'd say.

------

It confused you when he said he wanted you to fuck Laiwiet.

Was he joking?

Was he making some un-comical insult to his enemy.

They did work together so it makes sense for them to have some sort of 'relationship' towards eachother.

But for Light to ask you to have sex with someone who is trying to destroy everything your Boyfriend has worked for seems... off.

--------

You've never thought the day would come you'd be sandwiched between L lawliet and Light Yagami.

Yet here you are.

The praise you've gotten just by sitting there and letting L eat you out is almost too much for you to handle.

"look at how well your taking it, such a good girl for us"

God, The things these mf say to you is ungodly.

"C'mon can't you take just a little more sweetheart, you've done so well already you can go just a little bit longer."

------------------

Final thoughts; Ko cant properly write threesomes or any smut for that matter but people still love it<3333

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nerdstify · 10 days

Text

I'm writing a Death Note story and need help with the middle. Send your ideas via DMs, comments, or asks. If I like them, I might even draw them! Also open to Death Note art requests. Share any Death Note-related ideas and I'll see what I can do.

(and in this case comments too!)

Start and end of the fic under the cut:

Start:

God, the rain was gorgeous. L wasn’t usually one to remark or note on the beauty of people; people did things and said things that he couldn’t understand. They hurt and killed and lied; and for what? For only themselves. But the world- the non-people part of the world- was utterly beautiful. L knew why the rain fell. It brought the plants to life. And even though sometimes it felt like nature didn’t have a purpose- like destructive typhoons and hurricanes- he at least understood that these catastrophes weren’t self-serving. The rain had no greed or selfishness; nothing to gain, and so the chaos was out of its control. The rain was always his favourite, grey and rhythmic and cool. Any beauty he saw in a human was simply a reflection of the beauty of the rain. Watari, cool and graceful and methodical as himself, nurturing lost children like they were plants below his sky. Soichiro, stoic and sturdy, creating a calm and intentional rhythm for L to think to. These people and others he had admired for sharing the qualities of the rain he loved, but there was one more. A conundrum that L couldn’t quite place.

Light Yagami. Not just the rain, but a monsoon. He was endless and unrelenting. No matter how many challenges you gave him, he dodged and weaved until the rainwater had flooded every crack in the moulding and invaded your basement. L wasn’t fond of people getting into his basement. He wasn’t cool and stoic and calm, but he came with a surging heat and a blinding sun and a furious intensity. L was almost sure he was Kira, because like Light, like the monsoon, Kira barely seemed human to him. He didn’t seem to be killing for personal or even corporate gain. Kira had convinced himself and the world that he killed for righteous reasons; for saving the good in humanity, but L couldn’t believe that. Kira killed because like Light, like the monsoon, he simply couldn’t stop.

He had never before been so attracted to a person, yet so repelled. If Light contained a duality and, say, Kira was a north magnet, and Light was a south– then L was north. There was nothing his heart, mind, and the deepest parts of his very soul craved more than a friend- or so he told himself- like Light.

But Light was Kira.

Wasn’t he?

Ending:

He knew it. Of course Light was Kira. There was no way around it. L was doomed by this narrative of friendship he had written for himself. Light was so perfect that L couldn’t have beared to lose him. So charming that the barely human, hardly affectionate, happily lonely L had warmed to him. Welcomed him. Shown him the smallest, quietest parts of himself. But Light was barely human too; becoming less and less by the day. And as L grew more and more attached, Light grew further away. A part of him had known from the very beginning how he would die. It wasn’t a slip-up in safety or privacy, it wasn’t a miscalculation, or a misjudgement of character- in fact he had judged Light perfectly from the very beginning. It was trust that had killed him.

His first, his best and worst friend, using him even now. No doubt faking his grief towards the task force. Or perhaps the grief was real. Despite it all, L couldn’t help but clutch onto the glimmer of hope he kept locked tightly in his ribcage, as the light faded from his eyes, that he could still mean something to Light, despite using him and throwing him aside.

Like he did Misa. Like he would his father and Sayu. Like he did his own soul. Like he did everyone once they stopped being fun to play with. Kira really was a child.

He had always known he would die right here, in task force headquarters, where he was supposed to be safe, and at Light’s hand, who was supposed to be his equal. He had imagined dying with a subtle smirk, Light finally incriminated, and a successor lined up to catch him. But in his ideations of death, not once had it occurred to him that it would hurt so much.

The grief, the guilt, the regret, and most of all the gaping wound that Light created, ripping into him with his bare hands and clawing at the insides of his chest, twisting a knife right into his gut as he pretended to care that he was gone.

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fandompolycule · 2 months

Text

The Exam Day (L X Reader)

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Citrus Scale: Grapefruit

MPAA Scale: X-Rated

Fandom: Death Note - L

Trigger Warnings: Heavy themes of coercion, gynaecology, and humiliation

It was a regular day at Task Force Headquarters. It was early in the morning, the birds were chirping, the air was still crisp and cool, and the sun was peeking over the horizon. It was appearing as though it was going to be a lovely day. That was until your boss, Ryuzaki - better known as L, asked to speak with you in private.

You followed him into your onsite suite and stood in front of the coffee table as he made sure the door was closed behind him. He turned to face you and hit you with the most unexpected words you could imagine. “Ms.(L/N), as I am sure you are aware, due to the nature of this line of duty it is a requirement to maintain health care coverage. As per this requirement, I was reviewing the medical records of all task force members and noticed you have never undergone a gynaecological examination.” You were visibly shocked, but remained silent, unsure of where exactly he was going with this. “I am also sure you are aware that these examinations are a requirement for women to obtain and maintain coverage.”

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you now were pretty confident that you knew where he was going with this, however, you didn’t expect his next words. “As you are aware, Kira only needs a name and a face to kill, so it would be beneficial to keep your name off of as many records and documentations as possible to protect your identity.” He paused before continuing, “And, according to my research, women feel most comfortable with someone they know and trust performing such examinations. As such, I have received training in the basics of gynaecology and will be performing your exam.”

Although you tried to hide it, it was clear by the expression on your face that the thought of your boss examining you in such a way was the most mortifying thing you could possibly imagine. The idea of having to face him everyday and look him in the eyes after being exposed in such a way, was unbearable. “Ryuzaki, is that really necessary? I mean, can’t someone else do it?”

“Unfortunately, the answer is no, Ms.(L/N). I am afraid I have to perform a genital examination on you. It’s necessary for not only your continued employment, but for your safety as well.”

You try to object again, but he silences you, cutting you off before you can even get a word out. “This examination is mandatory.” He pauses, “You can either submit to the examination or your employment here will have to be terminated for your own safety.” He coldly stated as if this wasn’t the most humiliating situation one could be in. “I realise this is going to be quite embarrassing for you, Ms.(L/N), but I assure you this is a necessary part of your safety, health, and employment. I also assure you I will do all I can to make this examination as comfortable as possible.” He pauses once more before finishing his statement. “Due to the embarrassing nature of this exam, I will do my best to keep it hidden from the others, however, you should be prepared if there comes a time in which it can no longer be kept a secret.”

You ask him to elaborate on what he means by ‘you should be prepared for if there comes a time in which it can no longer be kept a secret.’ He explains that due to the other task force members having full access to the building there is a small possibility that someone may enter the room by accident during your examination. He also explains that during the event of an emergency, it may be difficult to hide.

You decided to ask another question regarding the necessity of this examination. “Why are the men not required to submit to such examinations?”

“Insurance providers do not deem routine genital examinations for men to be beneficial or necessary.” He explains candidly.

“But that’s not fair.” You whine. “Men are just as likely as women to have sexually transmitted diseases and infections and just as likely to develop reproductive cancers, so why don’t the insurance companies mandate genital examinations for them? This is misogynistic”

He visibly becomes frustrated with your noncompliance. “I suppose it is. However, it is not my job to know why insurance providers operate the way they do, it is simply my job to ensure my employees comply with regulations. Now, if we are done here, I will give you a moment to freshen up then report to basement level ten for your inspection.”

“Wait!” You exclaim, thinking you have got him right where you want him. “Why doesn’t Misa have to get checked?”

L deadpanned, “As I have already explained, Ms.(Y/N), it is my job to ensure my employees comply with regulations. Ms.Amane is not my employee, therefore if she chooses not to receive routine gynaecological care, that is none of my concern. If you wish to no longer continue with the examinations, I suppose I could always terminate our employment contract. However, at this point it would be redundant as you must submit to our examination today regardless of if you continue your employment here or not, so your humiliation would’ve all been for nothing.”

You mentally slap yourself for being so desperate to get out of this that you didn’t even realise Misa isn’t an employee. You're his only female employee. However, his statement about your employment contract opened the door into another ‘gotcha’ moment. “I never agreed to submit to gynaecological examinations in my employment contract.” You protest.

He smirked, as he realised he was about to reverse uno this ‘gotcha’ moment, and at this point, the back and forth had become a game to him - you saying anything you can to protect your modesty and him honestly enjoying your desperation to protect it. “Ah, but you did. If I recall correctly our employment contract specifically states that you consent to undergo any and all medical examinations if I deem it necessary and to see a provider of my choosing. And, I do recall you signing it, otherwise we wouldn’t be here now.” He said smugly.

You protested once more. “But, I thought that meant just standard routine examinations related to my ability to perform my job duties, like vision tests or drug tests. I mean what does my privates have to do with my ability to perform my job? This is ridiculous!”

He smirked, clearly amused by your desperation to avoid such humiliation. “Be that as it may, I expect to see you in thirty minutes.” With that, he departed, leaving you in sheer disbelief at what was about to occur.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

You entered your bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror, wanting to cry at the thought of being forced to submit to this kind of misogynistic and degrading examination. You cursed yourself for ever signing that contract, for ever leaving your cushy office job at the police station and choosing to work here in the direct line of duty.

You pulled your pants and underwear down causing a shiver down your spine as it dawned on you that you would be pulling them down in thirty minutes, but for a whole other reason.

You hopped in the shower, thoroughly washing your genitals, being sure to scrub your folds with an unscented soap and washing on high pressure, nervous you would be judged on your hygiene down below.

You sat on the edge of the tub with a mirror between your legs as you meticulously shaved every visible hair you could see as you hoped to God that you didn’t miss one.

Once again, a shiver ran down your spine as you gazed at your exposed pussy in the mirror and realised that in just ten minutes, your boss would be seeing exactly what you’re seeing now.

You took in a deep breath to try to calm your nerves. ‘May this won’t be as embarrassing as everyone says it is.’ You hoped to yourself, though you knew chances were you were lying to yourself.

You slid on some black panties and a dress before hopping onto the elevator and making your way down to basement level ten, the medical floor. Your heart raced as you descended and it only accelerated when you got a text reading, ‘5 minutes. I’ll be in room 28.’

As you were let off onto your floor, you hesitated to step out of the elevator. You wondered if you could just go back up to your suite and lock the doors. I mean, how would L force you into this exam if you refused and quit. However, almost as if he was a mind reader, your phone pinged once more, ‘Oh, and don’t think about trying to back out of it or you will be arrested and then they’ll just perform this examination in prison.”

You sighed, feeling trapped and defeated as the realisation that there was no way out of this but through dawned on you.

You made your way to room twenty-eight and knocked on the door, softly, hoping he wouldn’t hear you and that you could leave and not be held at fault because you did show. However, to your dismay, the door opened revealing L in his usual attire, but this time with gloves and a lab coat.

He smiled, warmly, “Please, come on in.”

You noticed the exam table in the centre of the room and noticed a black stool at the end of the table and a cart of medical instruments nearby. However, you also noticed the soft classical music playing, the dim lights, the incense, and the miniature zen garden fountain. L had clearly tried to make this a calm and comforting environment for you despite the circumstances. However, while you appreciated the effort and concern and acknowledged the fact that he probably had to Google how to make a woman more comfortable during a gynaecological exam, it just unfortunately would not be enough to soothe your nerves or make this any less embarrassing. In fact, the fact that he knew how embarrassed you were made it that much more embarrassing.

L spoke causing you to turn towards him, though you were finding it difficult to meet his gaze as you both knew what was about to happen. He smiled softly as he spoke, “I took some liberties to make this more comfortable for you, Ms.(L/N).” He seemed concerned as you looked like you were on the verge of tears. “While this is something neither of us are looking forward to, I hope to make this as comfortable as possible for you.”

The fact that he wasn’t looking forward to humiliating you, did make you feel somewhat better, but it didn’t change the fact that you would be getting exposed and humiliated.

L instructed me to sit on the exam table before he pulled my dress up over my head, causing me to blush as my breasts were revealed to him. He lightly messaged them for a moment before informing me it’s time to move on to the more dreaded part of the exam.

He reached down for the hem of my panties when something came over me. I kept wriggling and writhing, pushing away from him and swatting his hands away. He gave a stern look, “Ms.(L/N), I highly recommend you do not resist. I am a lot stronger than you and do not want to have to get forceful, but I will if you leave me no other choice.” He notices you relax some of the tension in your body. “ Now I expect you to behave and conduct yourself like a lady for the remainder of the examination.” He paused again before explaining, his eyes fixed on mine. “As embarrassing for you as this may be, routine examinations of your genitalia are critical for detecting issues early and allowing me to keep informed on your gynaecological wellbeing.”

You gazed straight forward, expressionless, not really gazing at anything in particular, just feeling numb and void and defeated. “Why are you so concerned with my gynaecological wellbeing anyway?” You spoke monotonously.

“As I have already stated, you are my employee and it is my responsibility to ensure your health and compliance with regulations.” He states. “Aaand, I care about you, Ms.(L/N). I’m not sure what this feeling is, but I feel . . . protective . . . of you.” He states much quieter and trails off as if he hoped you wouldn’t hear, but you most certainly did and it caught you off guard.

As you sat there in nothing but your panties, L’s piercing gaze looked up and down your scantily clad body. “As this is a genital examination, I’m afraid those will have to come off as well, Ms. (L/N).” L spoke, referring to your panties, the only thing keeping you from being fully exposed before him.

He gently slides your panties down your legs and notices you shuffle and cross your legs tight in embarrassment. He looks down at the ground, but addresses you by your first name this time, “(Y/N), it appears you’re quite embarrassed. As a man, the embarrassment you must be feeling right now is something that I cannot relate to, but I want you to be aware I do sympathise with it.” He looks up into your eyes. “You’re a lot stronger than I am. I don’t believe I could’ve gone through with something like this. And, you’re right, it’s not fair women are required to comply with this and I do apologise that I must enforce it.”

His words shock you beyond belief, but also provide you with a sense of comfort, though you must admit that you wonder if he’s being genuine or if he’s just trying to make you feel better.

He continues, his expression soft and sincere. “I understand this may be uncomfortable and even embarrassing for you, but I assure you, there is nothing to be embarrassed about with me.” There was a brief stop before he further explained, “However, I understand if you’re still ashamed to expose yourself in such a manner. It’s only natural and it’s okay if you’re feeling a bit embarrassed.”

His words did help calm my nerves somewhat, allowing me to relax a bit. I looked up into his eyes as he placed his hand on my shoulder. “However, as I mentioned, there is no need to be embarrassed in my presence.”

“Now, I’m going to need you to lie back so we may begin the examination.” He instructed, quickly reverting back to his ‘down to business’ attitude.

You laid back but could feel your face turning redder and redder with the knowledge of what was about to take place - your first ever gynaecological exam, being exposed to another’s gaze, allowing someone access to your most private areas, and worse of all, it was going to be your boss who you’ve crushed on for months performing all of this. You closed your eyes as you tried to block out the reality of what was about to occur, but the thought was still there and you began to wonder which was worse, the thought or the reality of it.

As you laid there, L instructed you to open your legs to allow him access to your genitals. However, you were much too shy to do this. You gave it an attempt, but your legs were too tense and refused to open despite your efforts. L spoke again, “Ms.(L/N), I need you to open up or I’ll have to do it for you.” He warned.

You mentally struggled, willing your legs to open but your legs fighting you every step of the way. Growing inpatient, L placed his hands on your knees and forced your legs apart. You felt your face become red hot with embarrassment as you felt your bits laid bare and exposed to the cold air and his sight. His eyes widened as he looked down between your legs, getting his first glance at your naked pussy. He had to admit, he always wondered what you looked like down there, and now he knows, and boy was it everything he could imagine and more. He chuckled softly, clearly pleased by the sight of your exposure to him.

You felt his eyes on your open, bare naked pussy and as you laid there with nothing left to hide, nothing left to the imagination, the power dynamic dawned on you. He had seen all of you there is to see, your most hidden and shameful parts, and yet you haven’t seen his.

You felt so exposed and humiliated with your naked girl parts bare and laid out on display for him that you couldn’t bear to meet his gaze that remained fixated on your genitalia. He had began by subtly glancing downward, taking in the sight of your pussy, however he seemed so fascinated and entranced that he was now outright staring at your open vulva, studying it closely, as he pressed his thumb to his limp and smiled somewhat creepily.

Feeling embarrassed and overly exposed, you instinctively snapped your legs closed. This seemed to snap L out of his trance and actually seemed to frustrate him - however, the question was did it frustrate him because you’re hindering his ability to examine you or was it more along the lines of being sexually frustrated? Regardless, he spread your legs apart once more, opening you up and exposing your nakedness completely. “Ms.(L/N), I understand you’re feeling a bit exposed, but regardless of the embarrassment you must be feeling right now, it’s crucial that you keep your legs spread apart for the duration of your inspection to allow access for your genitals to be viewed and examined.”

L took a lamp, placing it between your legs, illuminating your exposed pussy for a clearer view at everything you had to hide. The bright light shining down on your most intimate areas, exposing every hidden crevice made everything feel more intense and revealing than before.

You had never had anyone get such an up close and personal look down there, not even a gynaecologist had gotten so much as a glance down there.

As your legs tensed, L placed a hand on your inner thigh and pushed your leg back out. “Relax. I’m going to need you to hold very still for this part of the examination.” Your eyes widened as you worried what he was about to do was going to hurt, however he elaborated. “This shouldn’t hurt. However, it is by far the most embarrassing part of the examination according to my research. I’ll need you to bear it.” His words echoed through the room and prayed that no one happened to come down here and hear the words echoing through the room. He explains that it’s time for the clitoral examination and that he’ll need to lift your folds to expose your clitoris to his view.

You feel him spread your labia, forcing them apart until they were splayed wide open and you left with nothing more to bare. He reached for a pair of clamps to keep your flaps spread wide open to allow him a full, uninterrupted, view of your vulva.

With his fingers, L carefully parted your inner folds, lifting them up for a better view at what was hidden beneath your layers. As he did so, you could feel your heart racing with anxiety and your face burning with sheer shame and humiliation. You could feel him lifting and separating your folds with his cold fingers. His expression remained impassive as he saw every single inch of your skin, only adding to your humiliation.

He located your clitoris and pushed back your clitoral hood, exposing your entire clitris. The feeling of him pushing your clitoral hood back was an odd and shameful sensation. He held your tiny clit between his thumb and index finger, lightly squeezing it, causing you to buckle your hips in both pain and pleasure. He uttered a quiet sorry as he let go and began rubbing it with a well lubricated finger, gauging your body’s response.

His gaze lingered on your tear streamed face before returning to your exposed genitals. It killed him to see you so embarrassed and humiliated, especially by him as he thought you would be comfortable with him, however as his gaze returned to your nakedness, all that went away as his eyes sparkled with amusement and curiosity as he continued his investigation of your genitals, using his fingers to lift and probe and inspect every crevice and fold of your womanhood. He inspected from different angles and took in every embarrassingly intimate detail of your anatomy.

You looked up and noticed a mirror on the ceiling above the examination table. You watched as he examined your naked body, catching sight of him staring at your bare pussy and seeing your own illuminated pussy in the mirror and watching as he spread your lips and folds. Suddenly, he glances up into the mirror as well, meeting your gaze. Feeling too ashamed to look at him, I instinctively closed my eyes and turned my head, prompting a chuckle from him.

As you was feeling embarrassed, exposed, ashamed, violated, humiliated, you began to squirm under his piercing gaze causing him to furrow his brows in frustration. Before you knew what was happening, he landed a swift blow of his open palm down on your pussy. Given your labia was clamped open, he struck you right on your vulva, causing a jolt of pain to spread through your body and making you almost jump off the table. “I expect you to behave Ms.(L/N).” You whimpered and nodded your head submissively, wishing to avoid another spanking.

L continued to inspect your genitals in silence, but it didn’t take long for the silence to be broken as L spoke, “ You know, other than performing Ms.Amane’s strip search, I’ve never seen a naked woman in real life.” He mused, “And then, I only saw her mons pubis. I’ve never actually seen a woman exposed from below.” He commented as his face was mere inches from your naked female genitals.

He was clearly enjoying himself, that or your humiliation.

To your horror, L pulled out a magnifying glass and started using it to examine you down below to get a much closer look, as to memorise every intimate and embarrassing detail of your girly parts. As you looked down, you saw how enlarged his eyes appeared through the glass and you could only imagine how enlarged and up close your genitals appeared to him under the powerful magnification.

He sat the magnifying glass down and replaced it with a giant Q-tip. He ran the Q-tip up and down your vulva, swabbing you. The sensation tickled, causing you to squirm a little, despite you trying to restrain yourself so as not to get another spanking on your pussy. He then took another one and inserted it inside of your vagina and twisted it around.

As he finished your swabs, he spoke, “Seeing as you are at high risk of certain medical issues due to your family history, I would like to increase the frequency of these examinations. I would like to see you on a monthly basis.”

You inquired as to what kind of examinations would be performed at these monthly check ups. He stared into your eyes with a blank expression. “Genital inspections will be performed at each check up if that’s what you're trying to get at. However, this shouldn’t be a concern as I have already seen everything. You have nothing left to hide, Ms.(L/N).” He smiled, smugly.

He informed you that there was one last part of the examination and without warning, he plunged his fingers into your vagina and began digging around in your pussy. You could feel his fingers move around inside you, hitting your most pleasurable spots, causing you to whimper and writhe until you couldn’t take it anymore and you let out a loud moan and thrust your hips up towards him.

As L examined you, he teased, “I should perform these examinations more often.” He paused, “It appears you’re enjoying all the attention.”

Clearly flustered, you stammer for words to deny his claims, however, he interjects, “You can deny it all you want, but your body doesn’t lie, Ms.(L/N).”

You blush and look down at the floor, mortified by his words.

“It would appear we’ve found something that can embarrass you.” He mentions slyly, referring to how you show no shame when explicitly flirting with members of the task force. He tucks this piece of knowledge into his back pocket, knowing he can use this to his benefit later.

You blush and explain, “I’m not enjoying it. I . . .” You stutter, feeling ashamed, “I’m a virgin.”

His eyes widened as he removed his fingers from your vagina and took a step back. He soon regained his composure. “You’re a . . . virgin?” He mused more to himself with his finger pressed to his lip.

You blushed, remaining quiet as now you’re not only exposed because you’re naked, with your legs spread, and your labia clamped open, but because now you’re emotionally vulnerable as well.

“I see.” He pauses. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Ms.(L/N).” He pauses again considering if he should share this information, but seeing as you did and it may help you better, he decides to reveal his secret as well. “I must admit, I am a virgin myself. As I mentioned, outside of you and Ms.Amane, I have never seen a woman naked in real life. I admit I understand how sensitive a virgin may be down there.” He pauses again before revealing a shocking revelation. “I was unsure if I should tell you or not, but seeing you exposed like this has stirred quite a bit of arousal for me.”

You look at him in disbelief as you sit up, noticing his erection. You slowly reach out to touch it, as to give him the opportunity to stop you. However, he stares at you unsure of how to react. With your clamps still in place, you stand up and rub him over his jeans. You share eye contact and you giggle as you can tell he’s the one embarrassed now, though this is nothing compared to what you just went through. However, the power dynamic has shifted and you feel less embarrassed as you’re the one in control now. You tie your hair up and kneel down, tugging his jeans down to his ankles and rubbing him over top of his underwear. After enough teasing, you pull those down as his dick becomes exposed and springs to life. You take it in your hands, slowly stroking it, before taking it into your mouth. He throws his head back and moans as he holds the back of your head.

After a few moments, he stands you up and pushes you back onto the examination table before informing you he forgot part of the examination. He pushes your legs apart and takes a quick look at your on display vulva before diving in. You squirm as his tongue dances over your clit, the same clit he just examined moments ago.

He then stands up and places his head at your entrance, both of you throbbing with anticipation for your first time. With one quick thrust, he plunges himself deep inside you. As you both grunt and moan and gasp for air, you both feel a surge of electricity followed by a wave of pleasure ripping through your bodies in an explosive and cosmic orgasm.

As you lay on the table, he collapses onto the floor as you both try to catch your breaths. Suddenly, you hear his voice from the floor, “(Y/N), while we’re being vulnerable, I feel there is something else I must confess.” He pauses, “ I have feelings for you.”

This takes you aback as you sit up to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of humour or deception.

“That is part of why I studied the basics of gynaecology. The thought of anyone else seeing you or touching you . . . I didn’t particularly like the thought of it; it bothers me. I believe this feeling is called jealousy.” He pondered to himself. “Yes, the thought of someone else seeing your body makes me jealous.”

You still couldn’t speak, at a complete loss for words. He breaks the silence again, “(Y/N), will you be my girlfriend?”

Still at a loss for words, you slid off the table, landing on top of him in a straddling position as you kissed him and began kissing his neck and chest, then down to his hard and ready penis. He laughed, “ I guess that is a yes?”

You took his hard dick into your hands, “And I guess this means you’ve built up enough stamina for round two?” You straddled his hips and slid his dick inside, riding him ‘til everyone all the other members of the team went home. It really was a lovely day.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Time Skip: Next Month’s Follow Up Exam

“(Y/N), we’re . . . pregnant!”

#death note #lawliet #l #l lawliet #dn #ryuzaki #smut #fanfiction #l lawliet smut #death note smut

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akumicchi · 2 years

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Reference\\\\Drawing

Click for better quality.

[text:]

y/n: L, are you ok?

L: Hmm...

Just you know, I'm akumi_uwu on Instagram! If you send me a reference, I may use it for a drawing!

#l lawliet #l lawliet death note #l lawlight #l lawliet fanfiction #death note lawliet #death note #L #death nothe fanart #lawliet x reader #dn lawliet #lawliet fanart #ryuzaki lawliet #my art

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lawliet-ryuzaki-ryuga · 1 year

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Chapter 6

Death Note ( Lawliet aka L X READER)

WC: 2026

TW: None

A/N : So sorry for the late update on this! I’m just terrible and can never stick to projects lol.. But I GOT A CHAPTER UP... I always laugh when I’m writing these because I’m here like “ omfg jasmine.. WHY DO YOU MAKE THEM SO AWKWARD...” But i hope yall ENJOY!

MASTERLIST

It has been about a week since L’s birthday, nothing new, just the same old little investigation. Has it been tiring and just repetitive at this point? Most definitely. But some exciting news is that Matsuda has asked me out! Interesting man but sweet and kind nonetheless. He said he wanted to take me out but since he should be technically dead, he’ll be wearing casual clothing, with a hoodie and sunglasses. I did tell him that it would probably be best if we don’t go out but he insisted that He takes me out because that’s how a man needs to treat a woman.

“ Mr. Matsuda we don’t have to go out, I’m okay with staying here and getting take out.” I state hoping he would change his mind.

“ No, If I'm asking you out, then it means I need to take you out and treat you! Besides, what type of man would I be if I just ordered take out.”

“ You’re supposed to be dead matsuda.. I think you forgot that little part.”

“Not at all, i’ve got it all planned out, just trust me.”

He asked me to trust him, so I’m trusting him… I’m officially dressed and fixed myself as much as possible where I look casual enough to blend in with Matsuda, but dressed up enough for a “date”. I walked out of my floor and down towards where everyone sat just discussing with one another.

As always no one gives me much attention so I just walk around to see what everyone is up to.

“ Alright Miss Y/N/N I’m ready, sorry I kept you waiting!” Matsuda comes over with a small bouquet of flowers that holds my favorite flowers.. “ Oh thank you, such lovely flowers. And no worries, I just came down myself.”

With that L turns around and cocks his head to the side, “ Where are you going, where there’s a need for flowers?”

“ Matsuda asked me to join him for an outing.”

“ Is that so? Does this outing involve looking for clues on the Kira case?”

“No, it’s for personal gain.”

“ Then I cannot allow it, this case needs all the time we can offer.” L turns back to his little computer screen

“ I suppose we would listen to you if you had some form of control over us, but you don’t.”

“ You’re right, i don’t.”

Well that settles it, i look at Matsuda and tell him we can go, but he stops me in my tracks, “ Maybe he’s right Y/N/N, what if something crucial comes up.. Maybe we can just stay here, like Ryuzaki said, the case needs all the time we can give!”

“ Matsuda you were the one who suggested we go out.”

“ Yes I know.. But I said I would do everything to stop kira! Maybe the date can wait.”

“ I see, well then.. i’ll be heading back to my room then to change.”

“ You don’t have to change Miss Y/N/N.” Matsuda tries to stop me by grabbing my hand, but I’m quick to pull it away.

“ No, I must.”

“ Oh don't be mad, I promise I’ll take you out the moment we catch kira!”

I stop to look at Matsuda, hmm indecisive and too gullible. Committing to promises he wont keep

. “ Matsuda, have you ever committed to something and truly stuck to it? Those who are quick to change their minds and actions are ones who make quick promises. That being said, you did ask me to trust you before, asking someone to trust you could mean you’re someone who doesn’t know how to portray the concept of trust. You make promises, which resembles an idea of trust, but your promises are empty. So no, I will not be joining you anywhere even when the Kira case is solved, that is a promise that I can keep.”

I walk away with the flowers in hand, I finally make it to my room and change. Once I'm done I head back down stairs. I notice that no one is really around besides Chief yagami.

“ Miss Y/N/N do you not think you were a bit harsh on Matsuda?”

“ Not at all, in fact I think I was rather civil.” I grab the stack of papers and read through them to see what these papers were about. Same business men.

“ The man means well, he simply wishes to solve this case. It's not that he’s not interested in you, or that he won't keep his promise, he’s very good at keeping them, he’s a loyal man.”

“ The issue isn’t if he’s loyal, It’s human decency to be loyal, would you not agree? He simply doesn’t think for himself. I do not wish to be with, let alone interact with someone who can’t speak for themselves and stand by their own words. He lacks direction in his words and lacks the will power to stand by his words. I simply was blinded by his kindness, forgetting that kindness only leads you so far.”

“ Well Sometimes people don’t think for themselves because they haven’t had an opportunity to do so.”

“ I suppose Chief, but he changed his mind too fast, without a second thought. Once again he Lacks direction.”

“ Yes, but i think you’re forgetting the fact that you agreed to go out wi—”

“With all due respect, I’m no longer having this conversation with you.” I get up from my spot with the papers in hand and walk back towards my room. When I notice that L stands slouched in front of my door.

“ Oh I didn’t realize you were not in your room Y/N/N.” L stands and rubs his right foot on his left foot.

“ Yes I can see that, what is it that you need?”

“ Nothing at all, just checking to see if you’re alright.”

“ That’s a lie Ryuzaki. ”

“ I’m sorry?”

“ You’re lying, individuals who lie tend to change their normal body positions at times, out of the natural instinct of trying to act like they’re telling the truth. You were slouching a bit, when you made that comment of asking if ‘ I’m alright’ you straighten your back by roughly what looked like 3 degrees upright.”

“ wouldn’t you think that’s a bit of a stretch on detecting if someone is lying or telling the truth?”

“ The same could be said about your analytical reasoning when it comes to accusing Light as Kira. A bit of a stretch on the reasoning behind your explanation, but correct in the end.”

L looks at me with a voided stare, not much emotion behind them.

“ L is there anything else I can help you with?”

“ No.. I suppose not.”

I nod my head and reach for my door handle trying to get past him and back into my room. Once I'm facing my door and I open it, I let myself in and look at L who stands in the hallway. What an odd behavior, he said he had nothing for me.. Yet he has not moved.

“ L would you like to come in? I’m not sure why you're still standing there..”

“ oh, i’m sorry.” he apologies while walking into my room. I take the paperwork to my bed and read every line, while L stands by the door looking around. Why is he acting like he’s never seen this room before? I soon realize that L doesn’t feel my gaze, so I put my papers down to just see what his next moves are.

I notice that he’s scratched his head, and stuffed his hands back into his pockets. His posture itself seems a bit more tense and more slouched. His body language reads anxiety, and confliction. The lower the shoulders fall, it can indicate self-caution or doubt. Any action such as findling with your fingers, the scratching of any body part means there’s a form of hesitation or worry. His gaze hasn’t moved anywhere, that means he’s over thinking. He’s too in his head to realize that he’s briefly detached from reality, another sign of being conflicted.

“ Y/N why did you agree to go with Matsuda?”

“ why? Well, he asked.”

“ No you would never go just because someone asked.”

“ Is that so? Then I suppose it was because I was bored.”

“ Do you not have what you need here?”

“ No I don't.”

“ What is it that you need, I’m sure that Watari can make arrangements to your liking”

“ L, to be honest with you, I don't think you understand what I’m saying. My boredom that i'm speaking of is due to the lack of activities outside of the case.”

“ And Matsuda would help with that?”

I sigh and tilt my head to the side as if I'm saying “ are you serious.” type of look. For someone who can solve cases he continuously never fails to show how oblivious he is.

“ L, i would like to do anything with anyone.”

“ Then why not ask me then, I’m sure i would be able to provide more intellectual conversations.”

“ That’s the problem L, you wouldn’t talk about anything else besides the case. I’m tired of just solving crossword puzzles, blank puzzles, and just reading. I want to just do something normal.”

“ I suppose we could implement a small 1 hour break everyday for some regrouping. That would help with allowing us to see things we might be missing on the case.”

“ See L, that’s what I mean.. I- Nevermind L.”

“ Would you like to share your thoughts, i do find them rather important.”

“ Why should I share anything if my words are going in one ear and out the other.”

“ I didn’t realize that was the case, I thought you just said you were bored and wanted to do something outside the case? Is one hour not enough time?”

“ L it’s not about the time, It’s about talking to others or just having a conversation that isn't about the KIRA case! I just want to go get some coffee or sweets at a shop and just talk about, i don't know, like THE SKY! “

“ the sky? The sky is simply the color blue, due to the reflection of the light and the wave length from the sun, the gas particles in the sky are sca–”

“ L i know how the color prism and the wavelength of light works, You’re not getting the point! L I just want to sit down with you and just talk about random things!”

“ You already sit down with me when we’re working… But I guess we don’t talk about random things.. I can arrange that if you’d like?”

“ L I don’t want you to do it because I told you! Like Matsuda just asked me, he wanted to go out with me! He wanted to get to know me, outside of work!”

“ I see, so you’re requesting more of what Misa and Light have.”

“ L what, no?! I’m not saying i want a relationship.”

“ But why else would I get to know you outside of work, if not for relationship purposes?”

“ MAYBE BECAUSE WE COULD BE FRIENDS?”

“ Oh.. my apologies miss Y/N, i was under the impression that we were already friends… so i assumed you wanted more is what you were saying.”

“ I-.We- you think of me as a friend?”

I’m completely in shock knowing that L just said that I was his friend. I would have never thought that he thought of us as friends. Let alone anything as simply a member of the task force team.

“ You did celebrate my birthday and gifted me with a gift, so I imagined that’s what friends do? I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.. I’ll be sure to not assume next time.”

“ l no, I’d love being your friend, I just didn't think you thought of us as friends.”

“ Okay then, we are friends.”

“ yes.”

“ Very well, I will arrange gatherings in which we can talk about the sky.. Although I still find it rather odd that you’d wish to talk about the sky.”

“ L just get out..” I laugh feeling a small blush creep onto my face. “ Go arrange that gathering you speak of, I’ll be looking forward to it, friend.”

L just looks at me, but gives a small glimpse of a smile and bids me a goodbye. He walks, or should I say shuffles out of my room and closes the door behind him. An Odd man he is, falls short on small things yet he’s so confusing…

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jajafilm · 24 days

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In a world where Light Yagami has been arrested as Kira, Detective L goes to a cemetery to remember and mourn his friend.

#fanfiction #story #Light is Kira #light yagami #L #ryuzaki #Enemies to Friends #cemetery #Victims #Punishment #L is grieving #death penalty #prisoner #friendship #sad story

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eruminx · 1 year

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beyond birthday headcanons

warning(s): death note spoilers, labb case spoilers, nsfw. this one is for my death note bbgs ♡

i'm p sure the entire fandom agrees, but i'm sure beyond birthday is on the spectrum.

has bpd & his favorite person is L (hence why he knows so much about L, despite L claiming to have never met BB.)->(which doesn't make sense since they were probably at Wammys at the same time as kids? gotta love a plot hole, contradicting storylines, and or characters just straight up lying T_T).

his lips and kinda his teeth are stained a light red/dark pinky tone due to how much jam he's consumed and same with his tongue.

has a nap time.

gay 👍

he not only wears makeup to perfect the L look, but he also used to wear hairspray + hair extensions.

japanese + british

has bathed in jam just to feel it.

nsfw: has stuck his dick in a jar of jam 100% multiple times.

post-2000s au: would be a warrior cat kid for sure.

honestly was a bit embarrassed to post this but whateverrrr

#beyond birthday #death note labb #death note #death note beyond birthday #rue ryuzaki #ryuzaki #death note fanfiction

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stuismybf · 2 years

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death note masterlist

“this is my perfect victory”

l. yagami

- I don’t think i’m ever gonna let you leave

#light yagami x you #light yagami x reader #death note #death note x you #death note x y/n #death note x reader #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet #ryuzaki #anime x reader #death note fanfiction #misa amane #misa amane x reader

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lupines-slash-recs · 2 years

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Rec: The Lovers Gambit (Where You Toss the Pieces Aside and Start Kissing Your Opponent) by WhyDoesEverythingHappenSoMuch

Title: The Lovers Gambit (Where You Toss the Pieces Aside and Start Kissing Your Opponent) Author: WhyDoesEverythingHappenSoMuch Canon: Death Note Pairing: Light Yagami/L Lawliet Rating: Mature [R] Word Count: 12,182 Summary: In which the boys work out their feelings over a game of chess.

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almostcolorfulcolor · 10 months

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Death Note, meet Supernatural: Chapter 2

Relationships: L (Death Note)/Reader, L (Death Note)/Original Female Character(s) Work Summary: What if Death Note existed in a world with Winchesters in it? Would L finally have the evidence he needs to prove Light is Kira? How will L fare in a world where monsters are real and not every case is solvable by him? Lucky for him, there's a hunter here to work side-by-side with him. CHAPTER 1 Chapter Summary: Anne mingles with the taskforce. L accepts her presence...reluctantly.

Chapter 2: A Truce

“So you’re joining our team today? Glad to have you here. I’m Matsui!”, someone speaks puppy-like from my left side. I can’t see who as my eyes are still fixed on the douchebag in front of me. Others notice this as the boy to the left of the weirdo shakes him causing him to break eye contact and hand me the win.

I smirk charmingly at the boy and purr, “Thanks for that.” He goes wide-eyed for a moment before averting his gaze and mumbling something like, “No problem”. The boy and this weirdo are joined by handcuffs, what’s this? Glancing around the room, I see their team has a total of 5 members, excluding the tall dude from earlier- the weirdo, the goofball, the wide-eyed maiden, one old dude (from the police I guess), and a stoic dude that reminds me of Cas. I squint, wondering if he really isn’t an angel. Nope, there's no recognition in his eyes and let's be real, no angel would be indifferent to me after the mayhem I've caused with the Winchesters.

The old guy walks up to me and brings his hand out to shake. “I’m Asahi, a member of L’s team to catch Kira. The young man behind me is Moji, that’s my son Light and you already know L and Matsui. And you are?”

“I go by the name Anne. The higher-ups have sent me to take charge of the Kira investigation alongside L. I’m hoping you all cooperate and make this easier for everyone.”

The goofball starts to cheer to catch Kira when L interrupts him in a bored monotone, “Control yourself, Matsui. She will not be leading the investigation with me. However, to appease the FBI, she may observe the case without hindering my work.”

Flashing a saccharine-sweet smile, I stride over to his chair and rest my hands on its arms. He’s sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest so I feel like I’m cornering a small child. Steeling myself, I stare him down once again and whisper, “Listen up buttercup. I’m here and I’m leading this case with you. Tough. You have been working on it for almost a year and have only found out that Kira is in Kanto, Japan. You’ve got 12 FBI agents, 3 civilians, and 3 Japanese police officers dead- not counting the shit-ton of criminals that is. People are pissed, and they want results. Now I’m not saying you’re incompetent; your track record proves otherwise. But this is a big case and you’re stuck here. So stop being prideful and accept that you need the damn help.”

The room is so quiet when I stop speaking that I’m sure they must’ve heard every word I said. As I’m waiting for a sign that I’ve gotten through L’s thick skull, I see something in his expression change. Instead of being cold, his eyes turn liquid. Warm. I feel as if I'm a kid again, wrapped in a blanket, drinking hot chocolate after playing in the rain for too long. My head starts to swim and all I want is to climb in a bed and curl up to sleep. The longing is so intense that I’m startled when something is pushed against my lips.

My eyes must have fluttered close because when I open them, Baby Bird is prodding at my mouth trying to force-feed me a marshmallow. I figure it’s a peace offering and open my mouth to eat the treat. He finally chirps, “Okay, you can...help. But Kira is dangerous and the team’s safety is important. You’re new here so do not make any moves without consulting me for a few days till you get familiar with the case. I cannot deal with another Matsui.” Matsui’s offended “Hey!” rings out confirming that everyone is eavesdropping.

“Seems fair. But I want to know everything about the case. No secrets.”

“No secrets”, he hesitatingly agrees.

Glad that this has been dealt with, my energy dips even further and I want to sit down except there’s nowhere to sit. Sensing my problem, the teenager, Light, offers me his chair and I shoot him a grateful look.

Time to address the team. “So guys, we’re a team now. I know you have been giving your best but this Kira is too smart. Having a fresh perspective may help move things along. I’m on your side and working together, we will catch this guy.”

As everyone is nodding, an old guy from before comes in with a trolley loaded with refreshments. Manners be damned, I jump up for tea- Indian Chai, score- and a couple of grilled sandwiches. As I settle down and start eating at a speed rivaling Dean’s, I meet Light’s amused glance. I gulp down some Chai and explain myself, “I haven’t had anything except some Wakoucha since I boarded the flight here. I’m a hungry, hungry hippo right now.” He just laughs good-naturedly and says, “Eat all you want. Watari is a really good cook.” Hearing his name, said Watari comes up to me, smiling. Something about how he walks is familiar and then it clicks. “You’re the mean guy who brought me here!” He shoots me an apologetic look and starts, “I’m sorry, Miss Anne. I had to know L’s decision regarding you before revealing myself or anything about the case. I hope you understand it was a necessary precaution.” “Well, all is forgiven if you keep making me your Chai.” The old man looks relieved and goes away chuckling, “Certainly, certainly.”

I turn back to Light and find him staring at me again. At my raised eyebrow, he points to me eating my 3rd sandwich. “You just don’t see girls here eat earnestly like that. Makes you quite the sight.” Well, I must be quite the sight. I’m certain I’ve got some mayo on my face. He’s smiling so he’s not making fun of me but I still slow down enough to eat like a civilized person. I see the rest of the guys whispering in a corner and shooting me concerned looks. No worry, I’ll win them over soon. “So what’s with the handcuffs?”, I finally ask. Light just shakes his head, “L will explain it soon.”

Speaking of L, I find him working diligently on the cake now and sending it such an adoring gaze that I almost crack a get-a-room joke. Dean and he could probably write ballads about the perfect pie. Having finished my sandwich, I clean my hands, grab a water bottle and drag my chair over to him.

“Howdy, partner! Can you get me up to speed now?”

A/N:

The groundwork is done now. In the next chapter, we're diving into the Kira case!

Reblogs, comments and ❣️ are appreciated. XOXO

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

#l lawliet x reader #l x reader #l death note #death note fanfiction #death note oc #ryuzaki #supernatural reader insert #supernatural oc

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kkoen · 2 years

Note

This is my first time asking! Can we get something with L Lawliet? Like his wife riding him because he is too lazy. Can L be soft dom? Thank you!!

includes- smut, soft dom! L, riding, female!reader, light swearing, pet-names, praise, mentions of dumbfucking.(let me know if i miss anything!) (not proof read)

a/n; ahh! omg i love this idea sm <33

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙩? 𝙏𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙! -> ko <3#4009

↷ ·˚ ༘ :: 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 : ꒱

WARNING!!! NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 DNI

εїзYou're poor husband L was working oh so hard on the Kira case, and so pent up from not fucking his pretty little wife.

εїзSo when he came home long after dark, telling his baby to ride him because he's just so tired from working hard you could never say no.

εїзHe always made you feel so good. Even if he's not doing anything, only telling you how good you're doing, taking all of his cock like a good wife <3

εїз Whining and pleading with your lover for him to take control but all he does is shake his head and say " but sweetheart, your doing such a good job all by yourself, can't you do a little more and make me cum for you darling?"

εїз he said almost the exact same thing everything you were begging and it drove you insane

εїз but how could you say no to such admirable prasie?

εїз riding his cock until you can't do or say anything all you can think about is him <3

εїз Final thoughts- overworked soft dom L is so pretty and I would let him do anything to me <3333

#death note #l lawiet #l x reader #l x y/n #l x you #l x oc #death note headcanons #death note fanfiction #l lawliet #lawliet x reader #death note lawliet #ryuzaki lawliet #ryuzaki #death note smut #after.hour.streams #msg.ko #rq.ko

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alexoreality · 2 years

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The Princess of Tennis - Ryoma Echizen

Summary:

Ryoma’s a girl! Surprise! Well, technically not a welcomed surprise since she apparently had a horrible experience in America tennis as a girl.

***

“What are yo- HEY, LET GO OF MY HAIR!”

“You sure like to play tennis with this long thing, what is it? Some sort of tradition in Japan? Hah!”

“Hey, why do you have scissors-”

Snip. Snip.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO MY HAIR?! LET ME GO!”

“Pin her down boys.”

“STOP IT, I SAID STOP-”

“Whoops! I cut you instead, but this might be a suitable punishment for you! Why not stab you through the head while I’m at it?”

“Y-You wouldn’t...”

“Should’ve thought it through when you messed wih us!”

“With that disgusting tennis play too, what are you?? A dancer?!”

“Play tennis like its tennis you stupid girl!”

“Aw, look! She’s crying!”

“That’s right, cry! All girls cry over puny things, that’s why they’re so weak!”

“If you play like that, you don’t deserve to play tennis!”

Ryoma shot up into a sitting position, her eyes frantically searched her surroundings. Right, she was in Japan... In her room, safe and sound with her cat...

Karupin stood up from her curled-up sleeping position and jumped up to her favorite’s bed, sensing that she has woken up from a horrible dream (or a recall of hellish memories) and urged her hand to pet her furry head.

“Karupin...” The girl nicknamed ‘Prince’ smiled tiredly yet sweetly at the mischievous creature.

The cat meowed in delight as her owner rubbed her palm over her head. “It’s just another nightmare, but I haven’t had it in ages ever since I joined the Tennis club and became a Regular. Neh, Karupin... I feel something bad is going to happen.” Ryoma took her family cat and scooped her into her arms, rubbing her head affectionately against her cat’s head to calm her anxiety.

Karupin purred softly as she rubbed back, small sensations vibrating through her and sending it to Ryoma. “Well, I want to be early this time. So...” It was 6:10 AM, she settled her cat on her bed and swung her legs to the edge of her bed.

“Morning, Karupin. Sorry I woke you up like that.” The dark green-haired highschooler stretched her limbs to get ready for the day.

She opens her door from her room. Ryoma decides she’d take a bath first.

“Oh, they’re going to be so surprised when they see me earl-” Ryoma cut herself off when she saw her reflection through the mirror. Her dark green strands were... Reaching her shoulders...

“You sure like to play tennis with this long thing, what is it? Some sort of tradition in Japan? Hah!”

Immediately going for the scissors in the bathroom, Ryoma starts to cut it short at an alarming rate. Her hazel eyes wide from fear at the thought of someone doing that to her again.

She ignores the stinging from the cut she inflicted around her index finger, that wasn’t important, what was important was too keep her hair short so no one knew she was a girl no one knew she had long hair to forcefully brag from behind no one knew her at all and that was fine-

“Ryoma-san? The food is ready. You should wake up soon.” The sound of her elder cousin’s voice snapped her out of her panic-like state. She now pays attention to the cut on her right palm and her left hand’s index finger.

“I’m taking a bath!” Ryoma replied from the bathroom.

“Really? Well then, I’ll wait for you downstairs!”

Ryoma takes one glance at the strands of hair on the tiles surrounding her. She closes her eyes while furrowing her brows to will away the flashbacks of that horrible day.

She went for a quick shower, reminiscing how she never told her family who even violently and practically shredded her hair off from her head. She remembers how worried her mom and dad had been when they got a call from the hospital ear her elementary school. She refused to speak; they would just hog her even more. She wouldn’t be able to have a normal high school life after that. Not like this current one is normal, she had weird senpais and that actually never bothered her the least.

With her body on autopilot and drying herself up, quickly changing into her male school uniform. (She was thankful that he could also pass for a really short boy with a girlish face...)

Taking her bag and happy with her new hair-cut, courtesy of herself of course. She walked down to the dining room and saw western food on her plate again, she could only sigh. “Sorry, Ryoma-san...” Nanako rubbed the back of her head.

“It’s fine.” She drank half of her milk in one go, Ryoma started to eat to at least distract herself from her gut feeling telling her about something bad was about to happen.

“You woke up, a bit early. What’s wrong?” Ryoma’s hand stopped mid-way from lifting the spoon into her mouth. She placed the utensil back down and breathed in.

“I... Well, it's over now. Technically nothing to concern yourself about.” Ryoma put up her usual apathetic front, continuing to eat her breakfast. It was soon all consumed and she was ready for school.

Nanako observed her younger cousin worriedly, her aunt filled her in on what happened to her back in America but... They simply didn’t know who or why caused it. Ryoma simply wouldn’t tell them.

Her Aunt also said it was probably for the best since maybe Ryoma’s brain was managing heal the trauma on its own, maybe as long as they go on with their daily lives it would heal. However...

Nanako knew it wasn’t like that.

“You better get there in time!”

“Yeah, I will!”

***

Tezuka, the captain of the Tennis club watched the American tennis match provided by the coach attentively, what was she trying to convey? What is the coach trying to tellh him?

As captain and currently the strongest regular on the first string. Tezuka has expectations he must meet or break through, what was the coach saying by ‘Watch the girl tennis player closely, she reminded me of someone on the team.’

It was a girl, yet her tennis style doesn’t look similar to theirs. It was vastly different and felt enchanting to gaze at. Tezuka sometimes wipes his glasses every now and then to stop himself from fully immersing in the match and forgetting to observe her plays.

It was finally her turn to serve... Tezuka thought of how she would do it but then-

“A twist serve...?” It spun in another direction too, not like the traditional one... Could she be?

No, no. There was no way. But... this match was aired before Ryoma even arrived in Japan... No, this was last year. This was live, last year...! A year before Ryoma attended this high school!

The timelines mixed well. The techniques... The sudden change of movement...

Was Ryoma hiding his- er...her identity? Was that the tennis only Ryoma Echizen can play?

Tezuka rubbed the bridge of his nose, why though? Was Seigaku not trustworthy? Come to think of it, they didn’t have a girl's team and there was no rule that a girl can’t join. So, their tennis team was meant to be a mix.

The captain sighed heavily; he needs to confront Ryoma with this. “Take it easy now. She needs time to talk.” Coach Ryuzaki reminded him.

“I just need confirmation from her, that’s all. If she is hiding something, I won’t let it get out of hand, I give you, my word.” The captain stood up from the chair in front of the coach’s desk and left.

***

“Hey, look who’s early!” Momoshiro called out to the only freshman regular who was in his uniform already.

“Mh? That’s a bit of a surprise.” Eiji bluntly said, Ryoma had to resist the urge to throw her empty can at her senpai.

“Well, you might as well keep doing it every day.” Kaidoh glanced at him, Inui was already instructing him on what they were going to do for morning training. Ryoma simply nodded.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing you earlier from now on?” Fuji inquired, “I guess, If I keep at it...” Both of them apathetically nodded.

“You actually came early for the first time in never, Ochibi!!”

“Quit it!”

***

Chapter 1 End.

Chapter 2 Soon...

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