#I could FEEL Sunflowers fear

[fuckmymunson]

eddie who has a reputation to uphold, the weird and scary freak who wears chains and big metal rings and always goes on tangents about his hatred for the popular kids, not a sliver of fear or weakness in his eyes. eddie who at the same time never leaves his house without the light yellow scrunchy with daisies on it that you gave him, always on his wrist or wrapped in his hair.

eddie who’s sweet n soft on you in a way he never is with anyone else 🥹

💌 a/n: Oh god, this, this, this, this. Please, I don’t ask for much. I’m so happy to get back to writing! Hope you like it!

🪷 Check my recent poll ¡! 📌

“I lost it” His voice sounded almost defeated, and quite inopportune.

“Eddie!” You jolted in your place, closing the light green locker door. Behind it, there he was, the big, scary, mean freak of Hawkins High. Covered from head to toe in chains, leather, ripped jeans, black, black, all black. With dark, unruly hair and a chunky rings.

But also, with puppy eyes, and a quivering lip.

“You scared the shit out of me, Eds” The frown on your pretty face made his heart jump inside his chest. You were an angel, a sight for sore eyes.

“I lost it” He repeated.

“You lost what?”

“I’m sorry” Eddie looked down, apparently now his Reeboks were the most interesting thing.

“Care to explain what is missing and why are you apologizing?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited, for almost three minutes.

“I lost the scrunchy you gave me” He finally admitted, like a criminal at trial.

Eddie heard you sigh, to his ears, was a sigh of disappointment. In reality, it was a sigh of relief. Only Edward Munson knew how to make a simple thing as a scrunchy into a faithful message.

“That’s it? Eddie, it’s just a hair tie” You shook your head, still not comprehending the dimensions of his problem.

“It’s not just a hair tie!” He exclaimed, now almost offended, of course only he could switch mood that easily. A few curious students looked at your way, still wondering how did an adorable piece of cotton and sunshine like you, was dating the metalhead, three-times senior freak of not only high school, but of the whole town.

“Yes it is, love. I can just give you another one, don’t worry— Look, I can give you the one I’m wearing…”

“I don’t want that one” He said, his words sounding almost like a tantrum. “I want the one you gave me on our first date, the yellow one with little sunflowers”

“Daisies, Eddie” You corrected him with a smile. Only Eddie was able to remember such a tiny detail and forget a crucial detail.

Only Eddie was able to make you feel loved, cherished and appreciated. He was so different from every other person you have dated before. He snatched your heart from the very first day and it’s been a daily occurrence for almost a year. The scary, weird freak, the person considered a devil worshipper, the mean senior who had the admirable (or idiotic) courage to stand out against others who felt like they had the right to humiliate and ridicule those who weren’t like them. Your Eddie, the one who broke a jock’s nose one time for slapping your ass walking through the halls. Your Eddie, who waited patiently until every extracurricular activities you were into were over, so he could drive you home and hold your thigh and listen to you throughout the whole ride. Your Eddie, who loved Saturday night because it meant movie night, cuddles and kisses. The mean freak who let you braid his hair, paint his nails, sew his old t-shirts.

The Eddie Munson who was scared of spiders but wasn’t scared of a hundred people crowd. The boy who initiated a food fight at the cafeteria and had to go to the nurses office because an orange hit his eye and he realized he was allergic to them. The man who every Friday made fairy tales, knight stories and evil monsters come true and walk this very earth with just his voice and his imagination at his D&D club. Your Eddie, who on your first date, dropped a chocolate milkshake on top of your white dress, forgot to fill his fuel tank, and had to push his van all the way to the nearest gas station.

That’s how the bright scrunchy ended up in his hair, in a makeshift ponytail that you made by running your delicate fingers through his tangled hair.

That was your Eddie.

Your Eddie. Yours. Yours.

“Fine, let’s go find it” You said, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Tell me what you did today…”

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#Anya is writing! ᜊ( ᜊ ´ ˘) ੭ #Anya’s love letters! ۪ 💌 ۫ #Anya dreams of Eddie!(〃＾▽＾〃) #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #stranger things fic #eddie munson fics

[st4rtar0t]

Their first impression of you

future spouse or future lover

DM for personal readings.

Picture 1

Their first impression of you might be a mix of uncertainty and clarity. At first, they may see you as someone who is trying to make a tough decision or facing a dilemma, perhaps appearing guarded or cautious. However, they also sense a strong sense of intellect and honesty about you, as if you're someone who seeks truth and clarity in all situations. As they get to know you better, their impression shifts towards seeing you as a person of authority and stability. They notice your practical approach to life and your ability to handle responsibilities with ease. You come across as someone who is grounded, reliable, and capable of achieving success through hard work and perseverance. Yet, there's also an element of spontaneity and adventure to their perception of you. They see you as someone who is unafraid to take risks and embrace new beginnings. You exude a sense of optimism and excitement, as if you're always ready to embark on a new journey or pursue your dreams without fear of failure. but i also see that beneath this confident exterior, they detect a hint of vulnerability. They sense that you've experienced some emotional pain or heartache in the past, which has left its mark on you. Despite this, they admire your resilience and your ability to overcome challenges with grace and strength. They see you as someone with a lot of layers to explore and admire.

Picture 2

In their eyes, you come across as someone who's bold and confident, with a natural leadership aura. They also find you really physically attractive, especially your eyes and hair. I also heard "a change for the better" so they see you as a change they need in their life or They may see you as someone who's moving away from troubled waters, leaving behind any difficulties or conflicts with grace and determination. There's a sense of inner strength and resilience about you that's quite noticeable, its like no matter how bad your situation may be you remain hopeful for a better future. They might perceive you as someone who's full of creative energy and enthusiasm, always ready to embark on new adventures or projects. Maybe because you always have something going on in your life. However, they might also sense a hint of struggle or feeling left out in some aspects of your life, perhaps financially or emotionally. They may perceive you as someone who has had a challenging life and has faced a lot of heartbreaks. Nonetheless, they see you as someone who's generous and willing to share what you have with others, showing both kindness and practicality. They really admire your kind and helpful nature and your ability to deal with people and situations with ease. Roses and sunflowers may be significant.

Picture 3

I sense that they might perceive you as someone who comes across as determined and direct, like someone who doesn't beat around the bush, someone who moves forward with a clear vision in mind. They may see you as someone who carries a heavy load or responsibility, perhaps giving off vibes of being burdened or stressed by various tasks or obligations. on the other hand they may see you as someone who has controlling issues. They might sense a mysterious aura around you, like you have a depth or intuition that isn't immediately obvious, like you have hidden knowledge or understanding of things that they couldn't quite put their finger on. Also, they might perceive you as someone with a lot of creative energy or passion, someone who's bursting with new ideas or projects. They could also feel that you possess a sense of balance and harmony, you're able to juggle different aspects of your life effectively. I also sense that they might see you as someone who values collaboration and teamwork, perhaps appearing cooperative or willing to work with others. THeir impression might include a sense of emotional openness or purity, like you're sincere and genuine in your interactions with others.

#pick a card #divination #tarot reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarotcommunity #tarot #spirituality #pick an image #tarot deck #tarot cards #tarot readings #tarotblr #tarot pick a card #divine feminine #love tarot reading #personal reading #love reading #future spouse #future #lovers

[jinwoosungs]

{ 019 }

- musings for yandere! sung jinwoo -

disclaimers: dark content; manipulative behavior; mentions of m*rder; i do not condone such behaviors in real life, but this is a work of pure fiction, so anything goes.

DEFINITELY the type to fall hard at first sight for his darling. you can be a hunter, healer, or a mere civilian- it truly doesn't matter to him. for if you are unlucky enough to catch his attention, you will be subjected to his obsession and love- you will not escape from his love unscathed.

the day had been so utterly ordinary for sung jinwoo when he accompanied cha hae-in on what he assumed was her poor attempt at asking him out on a date.

he notices the way she smiles at him, appearing very much like a bright sunflower who's smile can match that of the sun's.

jinwoo was very much aware of her awkward kindness and beauty, yet what he felt for her was nothing more than a mere fondness. if such fondness were to ever grow into love, then he felt certain that such feelings would amount to nothing more than a familial type of love.

and despite how he knew hae-in was considered to be the perfect woman by many-

jinwoo's heart simply didn't burn for her.

after making some small talk, jinwoo waits patiently by hae-in's side for the light to flash, indicating that it was safe to walk across the street. he truly was not expecting for his life to change at all-

and oh, how wrong he was!

for once the light changed and he walked across the street with hae-in in tow-

that was the moment he saw someone that took his very breath away.

that was the moment he saw you.

as jinwoo appeared rooted on the spot, you remained blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil you had caused within the shadow monarch's heart. never once did he blink when you walk past him, eyes eagerly drinking in the sight of your hair and the way your eyes shone with amusement at your phone's screen.

even when you reached the opposite end of the street, jinwoo just couldn't bring himself to look away from you, doing all that he could to burn your image into his memory when he was suddenly pulled away from you and into the sidewalk once more.

the distance between you and him had gotten much farther, and jinwoo could feel his fists clenching in response. feeing annoyed and upset, his eyes began to flash purple in response, glaring down at the blond hunter who's eyes suddenly became wide with fear.

"i-i'm sorry, but i didn't wish for you to get run over." hae-in meekly gestures to the sight of incoming traffic, making him calm down almost immediately while unclenching his fists.

he supposes he should spare cha hae-in after all, since if he had been harmed or run over by a vehicle, then he would further delay his inevitable meeting with you.

looking away from her, he mutters a half-hearted 'thank you,' before shoving his hands within the pockets of his coat, counting down the minutes until he could end this outing with hae-in and bask in his thoughts of you.

no longer will gravity be the one keeping him grounded to the earth, but rather, YOU. it is your mere existence that will serve as jinwoo's purpose in life. YOU will be what keeps him grounded. as if you were a beacon of light that shone a path within his dark and cold world, he would become obsessed with you almost immediately, meticulously planning the day where you would be his while stalking your every movement.

the day he had ran into you, his shoulders harshly bumping into yours as he sent a plethora of his soldiers rushing into your shadow wasn't enough.

it was never enough.

when he purposely collided with you, he had watched you through glowing, purple eyes as you remained slumped against the sidewalk for several seconds from the impact. your eyes had watered a bit as unshed tears were seen glimmering within your gaze in pain-

the sight of it all nearly made him come to you and apologize while comforting you-

but jinwoo held back those urges, watching with pride when you slowly stood back up on your feet. you dusted off any stray dirt that remained on your outfit before walking forward with your head held high, going on with your day as if nothing had happened,

he deeply admires your strength, feeling his heart melt at the sight of you as his world was now bathed in a rose-colored hue.

even knowing that he could simply watch you from a distance, using the soldiers he had placed close to you as his eyes-

jinwoo still wanted more.

even when he spent hours upon hours looking through the eyes of his soldiers to keep track of you-

it wasn't enough.

instead, he uses his loyal soldiers to memorize your schedule, down to the very last second as he wrote down every single activity that you did.

[ weekdays ]

0800: my lover wakes up and gets ready for the day, sometimes making breakfast; sometimes skipping altogether.

NOTE TO SELF: cook for her a balanced and delicious breakfast every single day. it's what she deserves.

0915: darling leaves the apartment and heads to the station for work.

NOTE TO SELF: obtain a copy of her key soon.

1000 - 2100: darling works hard at her job before going home at 2130.

NOTE TO SELF: spoil her well with lavish gifts that she will love.

2225: arrives home to make a late dinner.

NOTE TO SELF: cook all her meals.

[ weekends ]

my darling has a very spontaneous schedule. sometimes she sleeps in; other times she wakes up early to explore the city. i am always trailing behind her, never too far, but never too close, either.

if she buys a ticket to a movie, i'll buy a ticket and sit behind her.

if she enters a restaurant and enjoys her lunch or dinner by herself, i'll pay for her bill with no questions asked.

I NEED HER.

I LOVE HER.

I AM OBSESSED WITH HER.

at the end of each page, he would continuously write your name over and over again, eyes going hazy the more he continued to write your name endlessly before it became nothing but scribbles against his page that looked oddly like a heart.

only when he was certain he knew every aspect of your life did he finally make his appearance, allowing himself to be placed directly before you as he began the process of making you belong to him and him alone.

jinwoo had waited tirelessly for this exact moment.

he spent at least 8 months getting to know each and every minuscule detail about you, forming himself into your ideal man.

when your nose bumped into his hard chest as you 'accidentally' ran into him, jinwoo swore that he could feel his heart racing in response. his arms nearly came around you, trapping you in his tight embrace-

but he had to fight back such powerful urges.

instead, he allows your hands to rest against his chest, pushing yourself slightly away from him. it takes jinwoo a herculean effort to not crush your frame to his chest, hiding his desires with an easy smile when he sweetly asks,

"are you okay?"

jinwoo swore that he could feel his heart soar with happiness at noticing the shift in your expression, turning more shy and embarrassed as you attempted to move away from him.

naturally, jinwoo stops you from going too far, resting the palm of his hand against your back while maintaining the unassuming smile on his face.

jinwoo basks in your voice as you murmured saccharine sweet apologies to him, managing to elicit a delightful chuckle from him as he leads you away from the street.

"if you're truly sorry and wish to make it up to me, then i suppose you can do so by joining me for dinner, right?"

jinwoo finds your stuttering voice and flustered expression to be extremely cute when you manage to give him a nod at his proposal.

now that he's had you where he wants you (hooklineandsinker), jinwoo places a possessive arm around your shoulder,

ready to wrap his tendrils of darkness around your heart-

ready to completely OWN YOU.

the days spent courting you while remaining by your side was such a blessing to jinwoo. never once did he get tired of your mannerisms and quirks, basking in them while spoiling you with his pure love and affections. when he had been with you for close to a year now, THAT was when he slowly allowed his true personality to show, preventing anyone from contacting you to ridding you of the males that dared to look your way...

jinwoo couldn't have been happier with his first relationship-

for it was simply so utterly perfect for him!

with you being so innocent (so trustworthy) of him and his undying love and devotion to you, it had left you blinded to the numerous red flags that surrounded his actions-

which was exactly where he needed you to be.

while you remain asleep in his arms, you were still aware of many things-

like how your cellphone had a strange, blue light hidden within the depths of your camera...

or the sudden disappearance of the male coworker you were assigned to do a project with...

and how the shadows seemed to grow deeper and stronger as what seemed like hundreds of eyes were watching your every move.

jinwoo lets out a low chuckle while whispering longingly to you, "i did it all for love."

as he presses a kiss against your temple, the powerful hunter leans back to reveal something shiny hidden within the palm of his hand. taking a hold of your left hand, he finds your ring finger before sliding the gorgeously crafted ring against it.

jinwoo takes a moment to admire the ring on your finger, in complete awe of it as it remained the sole proof that you now belonged to him.

happy with his surprise for you, he places your left hand back on the bed, falling back into bed with his arms wrapped possessively around you. letting out one last yawn, jinwoo allows himself to slumber as he waits for you to awaken...

once the morning came and you noticed the glittering ring settled against your finger, your heart became filled with love for him, making you awaken your lover with a series of kisses against his perfectly sculpted lips.

sung jinwoo ends up smiling against your kiss, being filled with joy as you remained completely and blissfully unaware of how the ring was simply a thinly veiled chain in disguise, forever tying you to him for all eternity...

a.n. - i have a little bit of a writer's block, but had some brainrots pertaining to yandere!jinwoo... this man is too beautiful to ignore, and i lowkey find myself not minding this darker version of jinwoo... 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #yandere x reader #oooof am i still bad at writing this type of material? #maybe #but its lowkey fun af #.stories

[writersblog20]

Sunflower 🌻

Pedro Pascal x reader

Credits to the gif maker!!!

Summary: When your hot neighbor, Pedro Pascal, forgot to close his curtains while he was pleasing himself, you caught him. You feared the worst but maybe it was for the best that your parents were away for a while

Warnings: SMUT, mention of spying, The reader is still a virgin. Age-gap (reader is in the mid-twenties), P in V, no condom (don’t do it, please), jerking off, slight voyeurism, mention of panic attack, Fingering, overstimulation, a bit of dark Pedro in the beginning, reader is slightly naïve, unexperienced reader, squirting, chocking, calling Pedro daddy, oral Female receiving, blowjob, creampie, daddy issues if you squint, Pedro GUIDES the reader through it, a bit of DD/Lg vibes, Dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk, and I think that’s it

Words: 4,8K

Sunflower🌻

Pedro was your hot neighbor, who you had a crush on before the famous actor even  moved across from you. It was a well preserved neighborhood and your parents were good friends with Pedro, much to your annoyance. You see, there were so many countless of nights were you would stay up, reading smut about your favorite neighbor, watch them edits and mostly, losing count on how much you’ve touched yourself thinking it was him. You watched all of his movies and series that he was in and now you were following him in the Last of us and god did your crush grew ten folded when you watched him in that show.  

You were in your mid-twenties and still a virgin. Yeah, you chose to have it that way. Waiting for the right person and the moment you saw Pedro, you knew he was the one you wanted to give it to. Your room had, obviously, a window but sometimes, if you were lucky, you could see Pedro in his own house. You lost count at how many times you’ve spied on your neighbor but you really couldn’t help yourself even though that you knew it wasn’t okay.

Your parents were on vacation and had asked Pedro to keep a close eye on you and that if there was something going on, you could go to him. You were currently bored out of your mind and thinking about what to do. You listened to some music in your room, staring at the ceiling. “What would Pedro do right now?” you wondered to yourself when you turned your head to look at the window. You were thinking about it and curiosity got the better of you when you stood up. You looked out of your window and your eyes got bigger at the sight. Pedro sat in his chair, his head slowly tilted backwards while his hand softly stroke his cock.

Your breath hitched but you couldn’t look away. You were so lost in a trance at how absolutely gorgeous this man looked, how the warm light hit his face, his large hands caressing his huge cock and how his lips slightly parted. His eyes were closed and it almost looked angelic. You felt the familiar heat spread down and you slowly placed your hand in your panties, underneath your flower dress. Pedro’s eyes slowly opened, looking at the screen in front of him. You were curious to what he was watching. What porn category he would search for.

You were so caught up at your own feeling and the image in front of you, that it didn’t click in your head when Pedro’s head turned towards your window. You made eye contact with the brown eyed man and that was when it hit you. He could obviously fucking see you, knowing that you were watching him. You quickly moved away from your window, your heartbeat pounding against your chest as panic took slightly over. My god, he caught you. How the fuck are you ever going to face him again. You felt flustered, bothered and panicked. You didn’t know what to do right now than to just stand there, thinking about what to do. You had no idea how long you stood there when you peeked around the corner so you could look out of your window again. You saw that the laptop was still opened, the light illuminating to the chair that Pedro sat in, minutes ago but he wasn’t there anymore.

Panic took over your entire body. You stared in front of you until you heard your doorbell. You freezed on the spot. It felt like you had an entire black out, adrenaline shooting through your body and you moved towards your livingroom without thinking. Your body was acting on itself and you opened the door, seeing Pedro standing in front of you. His cheeks a little pink while he ran his hand through his hair. You both didn’t say anything, feeling extremely awkward. “I wanted to check up on you and see how you were doing.” He spoke up, ignoring the fact that you caught him and he caught you.

You nodded and forced out a smile as you stood to the side, letting him in. He walked past you with a soft smile and sat on one of the chairs. “Eh, do you maybe want something to drink?” you asked him, trying to act like nothing happened. Pedro smiled softly, unable to make eye contact with you. “Could I have a glass of water?” you nodded and your body acted on itself, moving you to the kitchen, Pedro watching you closely.

Your hands were shaking while you gave him a glass of water. You got one beer for yourself, hoping that it would calm your nerves. Pedro watched your shaky hands when you took a sip from the bottle. It was unbearably silent at the moment and it had almost send you in a panic attack until Pedro broke the silence with a question. “So how are you doing?” he asked you and looked into your eyes. “Good, yeah I’m doing okay. I like the peace.” You told him, shifting uncomfortably in your seat since you were still very horny.

Pedro knew about your not so secret crush on him and he would be lying if he said that he didn’t like you that way either. You were so good and so pure, it absolutely drove him insane. He too, lost count of how many times he fantasized about you when he would touch himself, imagining it was you.

The air around you thickened and Pedro nodded when you answered that question and it became silent again. Both of you knew that it had to be addressed if you wanted to get the tension out of the air. “I’m sorry.” Pedro said uncomfortably while he scratched his neck. You looked up and felt panic float through your body besides, you felt nervous as hell around him let alone right now. “I’m sorry that you saw me. I should’ve closed the curtains… I hope we’re still okay?” he asked you softly and at the last part, he looked at you. The heat started to spread across your cheeks while you fumbled with the sticker of the beer bottle.

You nodded, unable to speak at all. His hand covered yours that was playing with the sticker so he could get your entire attention. You looked at his hand, covering yours before looking at Pedro, who was staring at you. Your heart started to beat faster and faster. You carefully turned your hand and started playing with his fingers, images of earlier that night flashed through your mind as it was the same hand that he touched himself with. Pedro looked down at your hand and then back to your eyes. He was surprised to say the least when you tried to make a move.

Pedro knew it was wrong but it felt so incredibly right that he couldn’t bare to stop you even though you were just playing with his fingers. The physical contact you made started to tightened his pants again. He didn’t want to admit it but when he caught you watching, was the only thing to send him over the edge and came hard. And all you had to do for that was just look at him.

Pedro let out a sigh when he thought about that exact moment. “What were you watching?” you couldn’t help but feel bold when curiosity stroked. You had an idea where this boldness came from and that was because you wanted that man and you wanted him now. “What?” you took Pedro complete by surprise. He wasn’t used to you being this bold. He knew you as the shy, innocent girl. Not that he complained but it started to get harder to fight his feelings for you.

“What were you watching when I caught you?” you asked him again. You looked at your hand that played with Pedro’s. Your hand looked so small compared to his. Pedro slowly took his hand away from you. “I eh…. I ehm..”  Pedro swallowed thickly, almost unable to breath. You felt a pang in your heart when he took his hand away from you. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise! I’m just…. Curious.” You told him, feeling shy again. Pedro looked into your eyes and he had a strict look as if you crossed the line. “Just curious?” his voice was stern.

You started to panic, feeling you ruined everything with him and let your head down. You were staring at your Dr. Martens boots. “You really want to know?” his voice turned slightly darker as he placed a finger underneath your chin, making you look up. “Do you?” you stayed silent but nodded, your eyes big at the upcoming revelation. Pedro nodded. “I mostly watch neighbor things, daughter of my best friend and stuff...” You eyes bigger at his confession while he took in every feature on your face. Pedro placed his hand carefully on your bare leg, making you jump at the sudden contact. Pedro lifted his hand quickly when you jumped before slowly putting it back on your leg, drawing circles with his thumb.

“Your turn, princess.” He told you, making you look up in confusion. “come on now. If we’re going to be honest, than be honest. I know you watch porn. What do you search sweetheart?” His hand carefully went up your leg underneath your dress. You felt yourself pulsing from  the heat. “Ehm… I watch… a lot of daddy stuff….” You confessed, not wanting to tell him more. “Do you now?” you nodded “And maybe some neighbor stuff as well.” you felt your cheeks heat completely up as you nodded, looking how his hand disappeared underneath your short dress.

“I know you have a crush on me.” he told you while looking intently into your eyes. It felt like you couldn’t breath anymore as the air kept getting tighter around the two of you. His fingers squeezed your leg, making you let out a moan. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand. “You like this?” he asked you, his hands getting towards your heat. You quickly nodded “I need to hear your voice Chiquita.” You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry from nerves. “I do daddy.” Pedro smirked, his finger going over your clit. There was already a wet patch on your panties, getting a groan out from Pedro.

“You are dripping through your panties sweetheart.” You moaned when his fingers picked up the pace. You covered his hand that was underneath your dress so his hand would stay there. “Yeah? You like that?” he asked you, making you nod again while you tried to gasp for air. “Why don’t you come over here and sit on my lap sweetheart?” he told you, his hand leaving your panty and placed both of his hands on your waist, making you stand up. The moment you did, he took your body completely in without shame. He pulled you closer and made you sit on his lap sideways. He looked down your body, his hand rubbing your leg and pulled your dress a bit up.

Pedro kissed your shoulder, his beard scraping your skin. You couldn’t wait longer and started to move your hips. “Oh baby, you are a needy little girl aren’t you?” You hummed, your hand over his again and guided him to your heat. Pedro smirked “You like it when I do this?” he asked you, his fingers over your clit again, your whole body reacting to it as if it got a shock. Pedro chuckled at how much your body gave you away. Your whole body tensed, making you grip his wrist harder. His fingers going faster while his other hand grabbed your chin, making you look at him. “Look at me.” he commanded. You couldn’t help but move your hips on his lap, feeling his cock grow harder underneath you.

Pedro looked deep into your eyes and you immediately felt more intimidated. You stared at his lips, desperate to kiss him. you moved forward to kiss him but Pedro pulled back. “No. You wait like a good girl. Only good girls get what they want. Do you understand?” you nodded but Pedro shook his head. “Use your voice, young lady.” You swallowed again, his hand went from your holding your chin towards your neck. You felt a pit in your stomach. “I understand! I understand!” you quickly said, almost beggingly as you grew closer to your orgasm.

“From now on, you address me as daddy or papi. Are we clear on that sweetheart?” Pedro’s voice was cold and unbothered while you squirmed on his lap, begging to come. “Yes! I understand daddy! Please, please can I cum daddy?” You cried out. This was the first time that Pedro didn’t sound stern anymore. He wanted you so bad that started to lose control. His breath shaky while his fingers put pressure on your clit over your panties and picked up the pace. “Go ahead sweet girl. Cum for me” he told you and as on que your whole body started to shake. Pedro let go of your neck and held your body tightly against yours while your limbs were shaking. “That’s it, just like that baby girl.” He cooed in a soft, loving voice, making your orgasm even more explosive.

Your eyes met Pedro’s and his eyes held so much softness and adoration in them that it made you weak to your knees. Pedro came closer and closed the gap between the two of you in a hungry, passionate kiss. You felt his tongue slide in while his hand caressed your cheek. You got out of the kiss, making Pedro look confused at you. You stood up and got completely in his lap so you were chest to chest. His hands found your waist. Pedro looked at your body, his hand caressing your leg, slowly moving up to your upper leg, just rubbing them. He loved how soft and delicate your skin was underneath his hands. His hands underneath your dress, holding you by your waist and pulled you in the kiss again.

Hungrily you discovered each other’s mouth. Pedro started to move your hips and you quickly took over, grinding on his lap. Pedro groaned in the kiss, sending goosebumps over your body. His fingers dug into your skin and his lips moved towards your cheek to your neck. Even more electricity came over you when his lips touched your neck, turning you on to the point of crazy. You grinded more aggressively on his lap and dick for at least some friction. Pedro’s hands went to your ass, squeezing them tightly, making you moan out. Your hands went through his hair while you pulled him closer to you. Your hips moving even more violent than before. “Are you going to come again?” he asked you. “Yes daddy” you cried out and Pedro chuckled because of how desperate you sounded. And not to find it funny how desperate you were for him but because it felt like his heart was going to give out from all the love he held for you.

“That’s it, you can cum whenever you’re ready baby girl.” He quickly placed his fingers over your panties again and rubbed your clit. You cried as your whole body started to shake. “There you go baby, let it go sweetheart. Let it go.” He guided you while your rested your head against his shoulder. His dick was fully hard by now and he could just cum without touching himself at the way you came on his lap.

“Show me your room, mi amor.” You stood up but your legs almost gave out. Pedro held you tightly. You looked at his lap and your orgasm dripped though your panties on his pants, leaving a wet patch and it was the hottest thing ever. You walked towards your room. You laid down on the bed and Pedro hang above you, kissing you even more. You couldn’t get enough of his lips while you held his cheeks with your palm. Pedro grinded against you, both moaning. You got out of the kiss, Pedro awaited what you were going to do. You rested your head to the side and was in thought. Pedro was confused, his eyebrows knotted a bit together as worry washed over him.

“Hey, hey? Are you okay sweetheart?” you nodded but was apprehensive to what you were going to confess. “Pedro…. I.. I’m still a virgin.” Pedro looked shocked at you and created a bit of distance between the two of you. That was the last thing you wanted so you grabbed him by his cardigan. “No. No, I want you to have it.” Pedro’s eyes softened. “Sweetheart… You shouldn’t give it to me.” You violently shook your head, completely disagreeing with him now. “No, I’ve always wanted you to have it. I don’t want to give it to anyone else. I really don’t.” Pedro looked at you contemplating. “Are you sure?” he asked you and softly cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb softly over your skin.

You nodded and Pedro slowly started nodding as well, giving in to your wishes. “Besides, you told me good girls get what they want. I’m a good girl daddy. I promise.” Pedro chuckled a little, giving completely in. “You’re right. You are a good girl.” Pedro kissed you softly. “So… you’ve never done anything with anyone?” he asked you and you shook your head. “You’ve never…. Sucked somebody off?” you shook your head again. “So no one has ever shown you how it is to be eaten out?” he asked you, sympathy glazed his voice while his fingers touched your pussy again. You gasped slightly and shook your head.

“Would you like to know how it feels?” he asked you with a loving smile on his face. You nodded and Pedro closed the gap again, kissing you. This time it was soft and passionately. He went over your neck with his lips towards your collarbone. His hands over your leg again before he sat up and got into position, his hands over your dress, moving it up. His hands going over your thigh, giving another shockwave over your body. Pedro smiled at the way your body reacted to his touch. His hands reached your panties and pulled them slightly down. You pushed your hips up so he could take your panties off.

Pedro slowly spread your legs and gave you another glance, wanting your permission again. Your breathing was heavy as you quickly nodded. Pedro started to kiss the insides of your thigh, slowly making his way up while remaining eye contact with you. His beard scratched your skin in the best possible way. Pedro took a long lick over your folds and you let your head fall back on the pillow. His eyes never leaving yours, taking in every feature. His arms wrapped around your legs, keeping them spread while he started to eat you out. You gasped at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Your hand automatically grabbed his hair, tucking it a bit, earning a growl from Pedro, who started working on your clit now.

You were absolutely dripping right now. The sounds your pussy and Pedro made should be illegal but you were glad it wasn’t. Pedro teased your entrance with his finger while sucking on your clit. Pedro made eye contact with you again and slid his finger inside your pussy. You gasped and clenched on his finger, earning a couple of other growls. God you felt so good on his finger that he was afraid that he wasn’t going to last long when he would be inside of you. Pedro carefully started pumping his finger inside of you and the familiar feeling came back but as soon as Pedro curled his finger inside of you, another pleasurable feeling washed over you that you didn’t recognized.

You grabbed Pedro’s wrist again and tried to hold back whatever that feeling was. “Feels good doesn’t it princesa? Don’t hold it back sweetheart. I’m right here with you. Nothing bad ‘s going to happen. Let it go.” He comforted you through it. Pedro started to messily eat you out, sending another shockwave. “Daddy..” you moaned out, your eyebrows knitted together and eyes tightly shut in a pained expression even though it was everything but pain. Even if you wanted to hold back that feeling, you just couldn’t hold it back anymore and started to squirt while Pedro continued to eat you out. Your whole body tense as Pedro still held tightly to your legs to keep them spread. You gasped for air and saw that Pedro cleaned his face from all the juices. He grinned at you and took his cardigan and shirt off, hanging above you again. His hands softly going over your cheek. “That felt good didn’t it?” you nodded, still questioning what just happened. And as if Pedro could read your mind, he answered the question that lingered in your mind “You just squirted baby girl.” He smiled and kissed you lovingly.

“Can I ehh…” You rubbed his cock over his pants. Pedro looked down and back to you. “You can do whatever you want to baby.” this man got you all flustered with his words. Pedro sat up and so did you. You carefully undid his pants, looking at Pedro who was awaiting your next move. You reached into his pants and took his cock out. It was so big compared to your hand already and you swallowed thickly. Pedro let out a moan when you stroked his cock slightly. You placed your hands on his chest and laid him down on his back. You started to lick his shaft and Pedro let out a shaky breath. You’ve never done this before but you’ve seen some things so you tried that just out.

You tried to take him all in but that was a failed mission before you even started. You gagged on his cock while your hand jerked off what you couldn’t put in your mouth. You slobbered over his dick and Pedro shamelessly moaned out, turning you on even more. “God baby.” he moaned out. “This really the first time you’d done this?” he was surprised at your amazing skills as your hand even caressed his balls. You got his dick out of your mouth with a perfect plop and nodded before continuing. “My god you’re really good at this. Fuck baby.” Pedro held your hair back and couldn’t help but thrust into your mouth, making you gag but took in everything he gave you.

“I can’t wait anymore. If you keep doing this, I’m going to cum in no time.” He told you when he took you off his cock. He sat up and took your dress off from your body. his hands discovering your skin before he took your bra off as well. “God, you’re gorgeous” he admired your body before his lips found your neck again, kissing and sucking on it. You moaned out again and his finger played with your clit again. He went from your neck to your breast, squeezing them and sucking on your nipple. Excitement grew in your stomach again, spreading another heatwave towards your pussy while he sucked on your nipple. He knew how much you liked it when he did this by the way you moaned above him.

Pedro laid you down on your back again and spread your legs before laying between them. “You’re really sure of this?” he asked you again, making you nod and pulled him down for a kiss again. You pushed your hips up, grinding your wet pussy over his dick. Pedro felt himself grow weak already at the way you felt over his cock. Pedro groaned and took his cock in his hand and guided it to your entrance, looking at you again to see if you were in any pain. He carefully pushed the tip in and you moaned out loudly when Pedro groaned as well. You felt pain shooting through you.

Pedro waited until you were able to take more. A tear escaped from the corner of your eye, which Pedro obviously noticed. “Hey sshhh it’s okay. If you want me to stop, I’ll stop okay?” You nodded “Do you want me to stop?” this time you shook your head and Pedro softly left kisses over your face. He let out a shaky breath, he had to gather all of his energy to not to pound you out completely right now.

“It’s okay…” you told him and Pedro pushed more in, he wasn’t even halfway in and you stopped him again. He waited until you were ready again and sucked your nipple, making you clench on his cock. He pulled his hips back before he slowly entered you again. Not pushing anymore in but for friction. Your hands were on his back, your nails digging into his skin. “More please” you murmured out but loud enough for Pedro to hear you. He pushed his cock in and collapsed on you for a moment. “You feel so good on my cock. Like you were made just for me princesa.” You moaned out, wanting more friction so you moved your hips eagerly and Pedro looked down how you grinded your pussy on his dick.

“Please fuck me daddy.” He could just cum right then and there but he needed to last longer for you while you kept grinding. Pedro got out of you, making you feel confused. Pedro laid down on his back and hinted for you to come over to him. “Why don’t you ride daddy, baby. I know how you use those hips.” He told you and helped you up on his cock. You slowly slid down on his cock but you couldn’t take all of him in yet. You slowly moved up and down, Pedro’s hands on your hips, guiding you. “There you go baby. You’re doing so good for daddy.” Pedro murmured out while he let his head fall down.

You wanted to take him all in just for him. Be the good girl that he want. When you slid his dick completely in, he looked at you in surprise but the feeling caught up too fast with him and he moaned out. Your pussy was gripping his cock for dear life “oh you’re such a good girl.” He cried out and you slowly grinded on his cock. His fingers dug into your skin and you were sure it was going to leave a mark later.

After a couple of minutes of you grinding on his cock, he couldn’t take it anymore. “My god, I’ve got to fuck you baby. I’m so close.” He told you and laid you down on your back. He pushed your legs a bit up and entered you again, both moaning out at the feeling. He started to fuck you and you grabbed his hand, putting it around your throat so he could choke you. He carefully squeezed your throat while he started fucking you harder, his thumb rubbing on your clit. You were shaking again, you were so overstimulated that you really didn’t know if you had another orgasm in you.

His cock hit your g-spot perfectly and your pussy was making a lot of wet noises again. “Oh I make you feel good too don’t I, baby girl?” you nodded while he fastened his pace on your clit. “That’s it. Be a good girl and cum for daddy. Let go, remember?” he asked you again but  you were unable to respond as the euphory took over. You clenched his cock so hard that he fell through his knees. “I’m going to cum too.” He announced, wanting to get out of you but you pulled him back quickly. “No, please cum in me. It’s okay. Please I need it daddy, I need your cum.” Pedro couldn’t hold back anymore and you felt something warm fill you up while Pedro let out some grumbles and groans. You could feel him twitch inside of you.

Pedro tried to regain his breathing back and carefully got out of you, making you both moan out. He laid down on his side, facing you. “Are you okay sweetheart?” he asked you, cupping your cheek. You smiled and kissed him. “Yeah very much so.” Pedro smiled lovingly as well. He looked at you, completely mesmerized. He carefully went with his hand over your hair. You turned over as well and placed your arm around him, wanting him closer. “Can you stay with me tonight?” you asked him hopeful. Pedro smiled and kissed your nose. “Of course I will.” You smiled and shyly hid your face against his chest.

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal daddy #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x female original character #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal oneshot

[0oolookitsme]

Like Gold Dust

Hii everyone! This one is kind of different than most of my fics. There are lots of descriptions and lesser dialogues and she's an angsty one! Lowkey poetic too, I think? I don't know! You tell me! I hope you enjoy reading <3

Verse - Footballer!Harry x Art Director!Y/n (uni era)

Word Count - 3.1k

Warnings - This fic is about Harry dealing with Seasonal Depression and he doesn't deal with it in this fic very healthily. So, if that, in any way, seems like it might be triggering for you or you don't wanna read about it, I totally understand! Close this fic and take care of yourself, I'll see you in the next upload! Sending love <3 (Also, there's miscommunication as well because of course, they are in uni!)

Winter has come knocking the wind out of Harry's lungs, and happiness has begun feeling like gold dust to him -- everybody seems to be chasing after it, but rarely catches it. But while Harry deals with the harshest Winter he's ever had, Y/n seems to have begun hating her favourite season.

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With her head lowered defeatedly, Y/n slapped on the door with her palm for the fifth time. "Harry," she exhaled a breath that she had held hostage in her lungs so that she wouldn’t miss his reply. "I know you're in there ...let me in, please," her voice went meek towards the end, eyes moistening making her screw them shut, tighly.

She let her head rest on the door, sniffling a few times when she feels the sudden tiredness overtake her senses once again.

Maybe he's asleep, she thinks to herself just to get herself moving. Nodding at her own thought, she fisted the hand that was still pressed against the cold shut door and put it back in the warmth of her coat’s pocket.

This was nothing new. Every morning she'd come to his dorm, knock and knock and knock, and get teary eyed when he wouldn't open up. She'd catch him on the campus sometimes, walking in the same clothes she'd been seeing him in since the past three days, his head low and eyes avoiding any and every gaze.

"Harry!" She'd call after him and run up to match her steps with his. "I went to your dorm; thought you were sleeping but here you are!" Halting in her place she'd exclaim. Then, she'd mumble sadly -- "looking all pretty," running a little because he hadn't stopped with her.

She'd walk with him quietly then, cautiously weaving her fingers through his rough ones. He'd squeeze her hand three times in return and hold on tightly until they'd reach the point where they needed to part ways for their classes.

Truth be told, those little encounters seemed to be the only thin thread she was hanging by. His simple touches, holds, and cold lips pressed against her forehead. It made her believe that he didn’t entirely hate her, that she wasn’t as useless as she felt.

Y/n felt like she was lacking somewhere. That she should be the one he should be talking to in moments like these, that she should be the sole source of comfort he had but it seemed like he kept his distance from her as much as he could. And that made her feel like maybe she wasn’t his favourtie person, after all. 

She knew that it wasn’t the truth in her heart. That Harry did still love her, and found his safe haven in her – the smallest actions he made were assuring …but they weren’t enough to prevent Y/n’s opposing, combatant mind from exceeding its thinking capacity.

Every night she found herself doubting herself – her capacity to love, especially. Was her love not enough for the both of them to sail a little longer? At Least until Spring came and Harry’s sunflower plant became full of life again?

She feared that their relationship was withering away, just like his sunflower, and she was sat in his room on his window sill with the plant in her lap, frantically giving it sunlight and air and water and better soil but it just won’t stop shrinking in size and fading in colour.  

Doing everything she could, still Y/n was always feeling helpless and in despair. It was like she was screaming but Harry wasn’t listening…whether intentionally or not because, from Harry’s point of view, no sound seemed to be coming out of her scream – maybe because he was under water.  

"I'll see you soon," she'd tell him and get up on her tiptoes to hug him close to herself, pressing a kiss on his unshaved cheek. And with that, she'd walk away, her hand a lingering touch until she had walked far enough, and she, yet again, proved to be insufficient and not enough.

Walking against the brittle wind, she caught sight of the on-campus cafe. Walking inside, she looked up at the jingling bells above the door and smiled. She’d been coming here for so many months and yet she looked up at the source of the chime every time she walked in – for coffee, mainly, and for some warm shelter, secretly.

"A medium coffee please," she told the barista, who also happened to be a good friend. The cafe was opened by some of the college students, for the college students. It was nothing fancy but did its job remarkably well.

No one was speaking this early in the morning. Everyone was bundled up in any corner that they could seek, and Y/n looked around in hopes that maybe the footsteps she'd heard inside Harry's dorm weren't actual and that she might catch him cozied up here, instead. Because sometimes they'd bump into each other here or at the library, and that would bring her the peace that she was feeling rarely this Winter – which came as a shock to the system because she didn’t nearly love any season as much as she did Winter.

But alas, it was only a hope after all.

"Can I get a refill, please?" Someone asked, slightly embarrassed as the peeked from behind their laptop screen. Standing in front of Y/n, the barista – Kate – agreed to the request with a warm smile.

-

It was brighter than usual today, Harry had noticed. The sunlight pouring in through his open window laid right on his bed and if he wasn’t already feeling brighter today, which is the reason why he is standing fresh out of his bathroom and rubbing his towel against his head with another one wrapped low on his hips, his mood just felt as if it had bubbled up so high that he couldn’t handle it all by himself.

The flimsy curtains were still drawn in front of his windows, as he quickly changed. Even though he hated dressing up before his skin had fully dried. Unconsciously, he began humming a song and when he realized that while brushing his hair, he felt as if he had caught himself off guard. 

Happiness had begun to feel like it was like gold dust, to Harry. He’d suddenly become very aware of how difficult it was to obtain, how everyone wanted it and it was almost as if it had grown out of his comfort zone. 

He wasn't excited about the winter, not that he ever was. But he was depressed. Harry avoided his own gaze in the mirror then. He hadn’t said anything to himself other than a broken sob in weeks, so to find himself humming a song felt surreal. 

Throwing some things in his backpack, he swung it over his shoulders. He didn’t have anything on his feet, he realized and sprawled on the floor to look under his bed for the socks he was sure he had absentmindedly kicked under there. 

He took a quick sniff at his socks, deciding that he could go with them this last day. With a few grunts he pulled them up on his feet, sitting on the floor of his dorm room and tying his shoelaces. Y/n had gifted him those among some other things for Christmas, and that thought made him smile as he stared at the Nikes on his feet for little.

A few of his bones popped as he got up, making him groan in satisfaction. Checking if he had his phone and headphones on him, he decided to go and quickly check the scenery outside via his window and see for himself if he should carry an umbrella, which didn’t make any sense because it could begin raining cats and dogs any time where he lived.

That was when he caught sight of snow – falling down in flakes, slowly like feathers. His mouth fell open as he pressed his palms against the cold window glass, looking outside like some eager kid with his nose slightly smushing against it. His gaze wandered and he realized that everyhting was covered in white snow, shimmering beautifully as sunlight fell down.

Suddenly in a much bigger hurry, he swung his backpack on one of his shoulders again, and locked the door once he was on the other side of it.

The temperature inside his dorm room was much colder than the temperature outside, Harry realized, just as he does every other day and proceeded to walk down the hallway with his hands in the pockets of his bright pink hoodie. He’d been thinking all morning that maybe this serotonin release was only for one day, but chose not to dwell over that so he could simply live for at least some hours – for as long as the sun was away from the jail-bars, namely clouds.

But then he realized that it had finally begun snowing, and he felt like no one could take his happiness from him; absolutely no one.

He hated this issue that he had. He’s been suffering with seasonal depression since he was fifteen, he’d guess, and he hadn’t had one winter since that made him happy. Except, of course, the last one, in which he finally had the nerve to kiss Y/n under a mistletoe that had been hanging on the wall indentation that separates the dining area from the kitchen in his home.

And she made the Winter sufferable, if not entirely rainbows and sunshine for him. But it only made Harry hate himself worse – the fact that she adored no season as much as she did the snow one, and yet she was sad all the time during the span of this Winter in particular, because of him.

When Winter was approaching, she had strictly told him to come meet her before he’d leave for practice in the mornings, just so that she could hold him for a little before they’d go in for entirely different classes for the day, because she was aware that one of his love languages was physical touch. She didn’t really have a clue about how harsh this Winter was going to be on them, considering it hadn’t ever been so bad in the years she had known him, even as his best friend.

But he hadn’t been following the one rule she’d made; he was unable to.

He tried to stay away from her, when he realized that. Just so that she wouldn’t have to share all of her love and happiness with him to the level that she was left with nothing but his sadness. It wasn’t making him feel good, it hurt worse than the Winter did – staying away from her. But it was for the better, he’d tell himself over and over again as he would roll his lips in his mouth and shut his eyes tightly when she would come knocking on his dorm room morning and night, voice sounding as if she were on the verge of breaking down and begging him to open up so that she could come in and help him, and herself even.

“This is making me very sad, Harry. This – whatever it is that you’re doing, i – it isn’t making me feel anything but … but sad,” she would utter defeatedly outside his dorm, being ignorant about the strangers that might be hearing her. And, Harry would clench his eyes shut if his mind showed him a sight of her bottom lip trembling with fat tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

What would matter to anyone hearing her, if Harry wasn’t hearing her? She’d think as she’d knock for the last few times, getting louder and louder.

It made Hary question his decisions, if he was doing the ‘right thing’ after all. But still he would gulp down his cry that threatened to escape his aching throat. He cried, and held himself as his body shook and broke down in sobs, because it felt selfish to have her do it when she could be outside building a snowman.   

He was well aware that she was concerned about him, it showed in her actions -- bled through the looks of care she passed him before she had to part from him. And he felt careless, like he wasn’t being responsible and mature enough by simply letting her in but he was. He couldn’t explain as to how or why, but in his head, he knew he was being sensible by not enclosing her in his misery.

Around Y/n he was calmer and more at peace – that was, nowadays, whenever she would catch him sulking on the campus somewhere. Almost all the time he wanted to be coddling her, holding her or being near her -- he knew she’d keep him sane, at the least but still he didn’t go to her. So he managed to comfort himself by the things that reminded him of her.

He felt such geat despair in that moment, when he would be sliding down the wall of his dorm as tears fell one after another from the slits of his eyes. He’d feel resentful of himself, but would still wrap his arms around his weak body and strangle his sobs because the walls were paper thin. He’d rest his head on his knees, back against the cold wall before he’d crawl to the foot of his bed and cry into the mattress as if it were his mum’s or Y/n’s lap. 

The sun had begun its hideaway for multiple days on end, and it got dark way earlier. Although he'd liked to think that he was prepared for the season, for the entirety of the beautiful autumn, he knew he was just baffling to himself. His current state was proof for it.

He felt tired, always. Never sleeping and being irritated at the slightest mistakes made during practice -- whether it was with himself or with his teammates. He had no interest in eating or getting out of his dorm room in the mornings, which was extremely unusual of him. Exams were around the corner and as much as he'd like to say that he was ready to tackle them, it was a lie far far away from the truth.

He wasn't even sure what the syllabus was, if he was being completely honest.

By the end, his throat would be aching because of the stifled wails and the sun would have risen by the time he’d be done collecting himself, and then a headache would follow and his eyes would've dried up because of the night time that he used to study instead of sleeping. 

Swiftly climbing down the flight of stairs to go to y/n's dorm, he felt the same kind of sensation he did when he was going back home for the winter break.

He knocked thrice, gently because he’s sure she's still sleeping or just woken up. There was a rush in his body, the thought of seeing her was making him more and more impatient. He was beginning to feel nervous, almost verging on anxious.

The door opened, and Y/n peeked through the small crack before and her eyes widened at the sight in front of her. He was standing right there, freshly showered and dressed in a fresh pair of clothes. His face was shining and as he smiled down at her, his dimples indented in his shaved cheek and she could smell the strong smell of his shaving cream that lingered around for a while. His lips were stretched so far that the front of his bunny could be seen from the small gap forming in between.

He didn't look much better than he did on the mornings that have passed them by since winter started, but he did seem to be in a better mood. It made her happy that he loved the hot pink hoodie that she bought him as much as she did. He had paired it with some joggers, and the shoes that, again, she had gifted him.

Tears pooled in her eyes in an instant and her nose flared a bit as her mouth swung open in a grin, spurts of laughter falling out as she gazed at him in disbelief. 

She made herself fully visible and opened the door wider. Instead of saying anything, she closed her mouth shut, still smiling at him brightly, and opened her arms for him to lean into her.

"Good morning," he gritted through his teeth as she held him tightly, rubbing her back up and down as she broke down in his arms. Pushing the door shut with his leg.

“Good fucking morning,” she sobbed and hicupped, a crack in her voice indicating that this was the first time she'd spoken since she'd woken up, and that she would’ve begun screaming in victory if only she could stop the stuttering cries rushing out of her.

This was the sole reason she'd begun to dislike mornings less, in the first place -- the love she felt oozed out of her at the sight of Harry. But she hadn’t realized just how off and gloomy she had been this whole time until she broke down at the mere sight of him looking decent. All these mornings that she had to wake up knowing deep in her core her that she wouldn’t see the sun, no matter how much she begged for it to come out had put her in a despair so great that she couldn’t even fathom the feeling of it.

But when she’d woken up this morning to see the land outside covered in white snow, shining as sunlight fell on it filled her with a certain hope to the brim. It almost made her flinch, the way sunlight fell on her face as she laid in her bed, eyes swollen and pillow still wet with the tears she’d cried into it the night before.

"You look exceptionally good this morning," she said while pointedly eyeing him up, wiping off the snot with the sleeve of her hoodie. "All good?"

Harry laughed at that, picking her up and taking her to the unmade bed. It looked like she was in the process of making it because all of her stuffed animals were strewn all over the floor -- and she tends to sleep with them on the days Harry isn't there to take up more space than necessary.

“I would’ve been on my way to buy some flowers for you, had I not seen the snow outside. Got too excited to see you, couldn’t wait,” he spoke softly, like she was still in a fragile state.“Plus, it’s too cold outside and I’d like my golden girl to come with me… For the sunflowers only bloom at the sight of the sun,” he smiled with his eyes crinkling on ends, and dimples shying away from Y/n’s gaze. 

“First of all, we need to talk and second of all – how many times did you reframe this cringy speech, Harry?”

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #boyfriend!harry #harry styles concept #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles au #footballer!harry #frat boy!harry #harry styles fic

[deluluwrites]

Florist!Barbie x Ken

✨Part 2

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐

Once upon a time in the colorful world of BarbieLand, there was a lovely Barbie named Florist Barbie. She had her own little flower shop, “Blooms and Petals," filled with beautiful blossoms of all colors and varieties.

Every day, the doll inhabitants of BarbieLand would come to her shop to buy flowers for their loved ones, and Florist Barbie would take pride in arranging the most enchanting bouquets for them.

Unlike the other Barbie dolls, Florist Barbie had a unique passion for flowers, and her shop was known for its enchanting arrangements and delightful fragrances.

However, there was something that set her apart from the rest of the Barbies in town - there was a hint of sadness in her eyes because, unlike many other Barbies, she didn't have a Ken of her own.

Every day, like clockwork, Stereo Ken strolled into "Blooms and Petals" to buy a bouquet for Stereo Barbie, the girl of his dreams.

Florist Barbie couldn't help but feel a pang of longing whenever she saw them together, as she secretly harbored feelings for Stereo Ken.

Stereo Ken was dashing, with his perfectly coiffed hair and chiseled features. He came to “Blooms and Petals” every morning to buy flowers for Stereo Barbie.

Every morning as Stereo Ken walked into her shop. She'd watch him carefully as he perused the blooms, helping him choose the most meaningful flowers that he believed would win Stereo Barbie's heart.

Florist Barbie's stomach would flutter uncontrollably as she admired Ken from afar, secretly pining for his affection. She knew she could never reveal her feelings, for she feared it would ruin their friendship and Ken's admiration for her floral expertise.

Despite her own longing for him, Florist Barbie couldn't resist helping him. She knew she was trapped in a bittersweet situation where she had to be the silent supporter of his romantic pursuit.

One day, Stereo Ken entered the shop, looking a bit troubled. "Hey, Barbie," he greeted her with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Hey, Ken, What brings you in today?" she replied with a warm smile. “I need your help," Ken admitted, glancing around the shop nervously. "I want to get the perfect flowers for Barbie today. I've been trying so hard to win her heart, but I just feel like I'm not good enough for her."

Florist Barbie's heart sank, "Ken, you are an amazing person," she said sincerely, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are kind, thoughtful, and caring. Anyone would be lucky to have you."

Ken sighed, "I don't know. Barbie is so perfect, and I feel like I can never measure up to her expectations." Florist Barbie felt a mix of sympathy and frustration.

She wanted to tell him that he deserved someone who appreciated him for who he was, but she couldn't reveal her true feelings. Instead, she focused on helping him find the perfect flowers for Barbie.

"Let's pick out some flowers with special meanings," she suggested, leading him through the shop. "How about these roses? They represent love and admiration, which perfectly captures your feelings for Barbie."

Ken nodded, his face brightening a little. "That sounds good. What else?" Florist Barbie went to another display, “Oooh! Lilies, represent purity and devotion, which can be perfect if you want to show your sincerity.”

She went to another display and picked some more flowers, “Or these Orchids could signify beauty and admiration, which is an ideal choice to convey your admiration for her grace. And then, there are the sunflowers, symbolizing warmth and happiness, a great way to express the joy she brings into your life."

Ken listened intently to her words, nodding slowly. "Those are all wonderful choices, Barbie. But you know what I just realized? Aren't all these your favorite too?"

Florist Barbie blushed, unable to hide her secret any longer. "Well, yes, they are," she admitted, her voice a soft whisper. "I find beauty and meaning in all of them. But enough about me, let's focus on helping you choose the perfect bouquet for Barbie."

They continued their search, and Florist Barbie carefully selected a bouquet that conveyed love, admiration, sincerity, warmth, and happiness, hoping that Stereo Barbie would see the depth of Ken's affection.

As Ken hurriedly gathered the bouquet, he turned to Florist Barbie with a grateful smile. "Thanks for all your help, Barbie. I don't know what I would have done without you. You're such a good friend."

Florist Barbie's heart sank as she forced a weak smile in return. "You're welcome, Ken. I'm glad I could assist you. I hope Barbie loves the flowers."

Ken nodded enthusiastically, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil within Florist Barbie's heart. "I'm sure she will. They're perfect, just like you always say."

With that, he dashed out of the flower shop, leaving Florist Barbie standing there, feeling the weight of heartbreak and unrequited love.

She watched him go, struggling to keep her composure, "That's what I do, Barbie," she sighs whispering to herself, forcing a smile. "I help others find happiness even if it's not with me."

🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐🌸💖🌷🌺💐

The next day, BarbieLand was buzzing with excitement as Stereo Barbie announced she was hosting a Big Blowout Party.

Florist Barbie was attending the event, feeling a mix of excitement and sadness. She chatted with her friend Allan, who could see the longing in her eyes whenever Ken was mentioned.

Ken approached them, looking anxious. "Hey, Barbie. Allan. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Allan looked at Florist Barbie curiously. "Sure, Ken. What's on your mind?" Florist Barbie tried to appear composed, even though her heart was racing as she replied almost instantly.

"I'm thinking of asking Barbie(Stereo) to dance tonight. Do you think she'd say yes?" he asked, nervously running his hand through his perfectly coiffed hair and scratching his neck nervously.

“Well I think-“ Allan begins wanting to give his buddy advice but Florist Barbie musters smile and interrupts. "Absolutely, Ken. You should go for it! I'm sure she'd love to dance with you."

Ken thanks them giving Florist Barbie his wine goblet joining the dance floor leaving Florist Barbie feeling a mixture of happiness for him and deep sorrow within herself.

Allan, seeing her distress, took her aside. "Barbie, you can't keep this to yourself any longer. You need to tell Ken how you feel."

She sighs throwing the goblet behind her, "I can't, Allan. It's too painful. I'll only end up losing his friendship too."

Allan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You deserve to be happy too, Barbie. You never know how Ken might feel about you if you don't confess. Take a chance, or you'll always wonder what could have been."

Despite Allan's words, Florist Barbie left the party heartbroken. She found solace near a shimmering pink water fountain. Sitting alone, she felt a deep pain in her heart as she stared at her reflection in the plastic water.

Suddenly, to her shock, a human-like tear trickled down her porcelain cheek. "What is happening to me?" she wondered in astonishment. Shocked, she touched her face, wondering how such a thing was possible. Little did she know that her genuine emotions and the depth of her feelings had brought her to life in a way she had never experienced before.

Part 2….?

#ryan gosling #barbie movie #ken x reader #im just ken #ryan gosling ken #barbie 2023 #just ken #ken barbie #barbie #ryan gosling x reader #ken x you #ken x y/n #barbie and ken #and ken #kenergy #you are kenough #i am kenough #he is kenough

[bored-storyteller]

Ok this is totally self-indulgent that's off the canon, but I wrote that and now you can find it here. It is related to this and the continuation of this. Of course you are free to ignore it.

Sally Face, Sal Fisher x Reader

The sun in the night

"It's me."

If you hadn't noticed how much his fingers were shaking, now you surely heard it in his voice.

"It's really me." Sal insists, because he doesn't know what else to do.

You are there, in front of him, illuminated only by a cold artificial light, the road is empty except for you two, and you hold three large sunflowers in your arms.

"Don’t be afraid." He keeps telling you, because that's what he expected to find in you: amazement, fear, disbelief.

Yet he sees none of this in your gaze, or maybe he does, but not in the sense that he - people - would expect.

You are motionless in front of him, he almost thinks that you are not breathing, and perhaps he fears more than you the consequences of his reckless gesture, of having sought you out.

"I ... I'm back ... if you can say so ..."

Oh, how much he would like to ask you not to cry. But what right does he have? And why are you crying? For him, or for the wounds he inflicted on you? How much he wished things had been different between you two, a trip to the underworld is not enough to start all over again.

Your tears are silent, they slide down your cheeks, on your expressionless lips. And you're looking at him like you're waiting, waiting to see him disappear, maybe.

"Please ..." he finally begs, in a whisper. Sal knows he cannot expect anything, but he feels cold, cold and lonely in being so distant from you. He felt your pain, he felt it inside of him, and he would pay any cost - more than he has already done - to hold you in his arms.

Now, a word would be enough for him, just one, even a sigh.

But you don't speak, you just stand there looking at him, with wet eyes and clenched teeth.

And then, as if you were a dream, he sees you reach out to him; extend your arm in the direction of him. He doesn't hesitate in his moves, he hardly thinks when he approaches you.

Your palm is now on his chest, he holds it gently over his heart, his living heart beating in his ribcage.

"I'm here ... it's me ..." he repeats again, like a broken record, without daring to look up at you.

Even just your passive touch is a refreshment to him. At least you are there, at least you are in front of him, at least you know that he really is there.

And there would be so many things he would like - no, he should – to tell you, but like a raging river in a too small crack he can't get anything out. Everything is too important and nothing is enough. He has the distinct feeling that one wrong word can make you go away, forever, and a thousand deaths won't be enough to bring you back to him.

But he has to tell you something, he has to talk to you, he can't drop everything out of cowardice, he can't.

"I love you."

They are not his words, they are yours. The first words you say to him after his return, the first time he hears your voice.

Ba-bum.

His heart is heavy and light at the same time, it sinks into his bowels and rises until it becomes tears in his eyes.

He looks at you now, his lips parted so he can breathe under the mask. And you cry with all the emotions painted on your face as your hand squeezes against his ribs.

And if you have managed to stop the world, it is still you with a sweet whisper to recall everything, again.

"Believe me ..." you beg him. It is a desperate prayer full of all the pain you have felt. “Believe me please, I love you. I've never stopped doing it and I won't be able to stop, please ... "

And he believes that you could continue forever, in that frightened plea. You don't ask him to reciprocate, but to believe you, because he didn't.

"I know it." He interrupts "God, I know ... I know and ..." And he's so sorry he didn't believe you. How many times he would have taken back this words, while he was thinking of you, while he perceived in his own soul your suffering, your remorse for not having been able to make him understand it in time, for not having made him feel loved enough.

He would like to tell you all this, he would like to tell you that he was wrong to trust himself more than you.

But your hand on his chest is now gripping his sweatshirt in a feeble attempt to hold him, as if he could disappear at any moment, and who guarantees otherwise?

He has already left you.

And you're not even expecting him to really stay, you just want him to know that you love him, and you love him with a sweet, tender, strong love that goes beyond even death itself.

"And I love you too." And it is the only important thing he has to say to you now, when he sees you collapse under the weight of an excruciating sadness that you have endured without perspective.

"Sal ..." His name in your cry sounds like the lament of a puppy left alone, and you finally come back to your home. You are against him, in his arms, your wet face hides against his neck, his blue hair softly covers your head.

And he holds you tight, he finally protects you, feels you real, in flesh and blood.

"I have so many things to tell you ... to explain and ..."

"I don't want to know ..." you whisper, never leaving your shelter "I don't want to know how you did it, or why ... if it's a dream, I don't want to know. Just stay with me. "

He understands, and he accepts it.

Your head is resting on his shoulder like when you were sitting together by the lake years ago. Your hand looks for his, and caresses it, like the last time you met, and like the first time you met, the sunflowers shine among you.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #sally face oneshot #sally face fanfiction #writing #reader insert #sal fisher x y/n #fanfiction

[rancidpancakebatter]

Picnics at Sunset - [L Lawliet]

Pairings: L (Death Note) x Female!Reader

Summary: You knew that You cared for Ryusaki very much. You knew you trusted him with your life, and you always felt better when he was around. You knew that you desired his attention and approval more than anyone else’s. You knew that he was beautiful and kind. But you didn’t know if he felt any of those things about you. You didn’t know what those things meant. Or rather, you feared what they could mean, and what that would do to the both of you.

Word Count: 14k words

Content: Swearing, Mentions of death, nudity?, friends to lovers, first kiss, Use of Celcius, touch of angst (it's death Note, come on), Sappy thoughts of love

( Masterlist )

A/N: I have so much to say, but I'll try to keep it brief. I'm sorry this is so long, but so much of this show cuts to long internal dialogues within a conversation, and I tried to capture that. I think I did well, but it is a little long-winded. I don't know if I'll do a lot of writing for this character, but he got stuck in my head recently, and this was the only way I knew to let him go.

You sat at your desk, the computer screen you had been staring at for the past three hours was beginning to hurt your head. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes; then silently cursing as you felt your mascara smear against the pads of your fingers. You needed a break and something other than a slice of cake in your stomach. You looked to your right out of habit, ready to tell your friend that you were taking a break and he should do the same, but his chair was empty.

You looked around the room.

“He stepped outside,” a voice said.

Behind you was Matsuda. You jumped when he spoke, not realising he was there, and he apologised for startling you.

“Yeah, we should get you a bell,” you suggested.

“Yeah, maybe so.” Matsuda laughed. “You know, if you want to bounce ideas off of someone, you can talk to me. I know I can’t come close to Ryusaki’s intelligence, but I’d like to think I have something to offer.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “I didn’t really need anything from him, just wanted to see what he was up to.”

“Well, I think he just needed some space to think. You know how he is.” 

“That I do,” You agreed, “And I know If he wants to be alone, he’ll have no problem telling me himself.” 

Matsuda laughed again, “I’m sure you’re right. But I have a feeling he won’t shoo you away. He has a soft spot for you.”

Just the idea of L turning you away had you put out. You crossed your arms, turning away with a huff. “Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

You heard Matsuda chuckling behind you, wishing you luck. 

You marched up the stairs, down the hall, and got in the elevator, heading for the roof. As you made your way, you couldn’t help but admire the walls around you. The building L designed was quite impressive. You greatly enjoyed the glass elevator, preferring it over any others. Once you passed the tenth floor, the city could be seen. You were usually greeted by blinding sun and clear blue skies, but today, the sky was an enchanting apricot colour, blanketed by thick pink clouds heavy with rain. The sun was peaking from behind the silver buildings as if waiting to see you before finally saying goodbye. You waved to the people below, wishing them well on their oblivious wayfaring. 

Soon you reached the top floor, and you pushed open the door to get to the roof access. The door to the roof was already opened, so you called out.

“Ryusaki! You out there?”

You were greeted by silence and tried again.

“I’m alone!”

Only then did you get a reply, “Did you bring any food?”

You chuckled, stepping out onto the roof. “No, I’m sorry.”

L stood out in the open, basking in the fading light and staring at the sky, unbothered by the cold air blowing. He was slouched over and hands firmly in his pockets. He turned his head to you, and the vibrant sky poured over his pale skin, drenching the soft canvas in the colours of monarchs and sunflowers. The light danced around his prominent eyes, flames in a ring of stone. His lips looked kissed by a dreamsicle. You looked away, finding your way back to reality. 

“Did you want me to go back and get something?” You offered, throwing your thumb back towards the door. 

“No,” He said, turning back to the sun, “Watari should be up soon.”

Before you could question, you heard the door open and close and the clinking sound of plates as they made their way up the stairs. 

“Hello, dear,” The old man greeted with a smile. 

He carried a tray with a full tea set in one hand and a wicker basket in the other, with a blanket draped across his arm. You watched as he laid it out on the ground, pulling plates and silverware from the basket along with a candelabra. Ryuga settled himself as Watari lit the candles, then gestured for you to do the same. The only clear spot to sit was right beside him, and you took it as gracefully as possible. 

“I have brought sandwiches and various tea cakes,” Watari explained, “along with Keemun Mao Feng tea and honey. I hope you enjoy.”

You both thanked him and he left, closing the roof exit behind him. L sat, perching next to you, watching as you admired the display. 

“It’s all my favourites,” You observed. “Why did you ask him to bring this?”

His thumb came to rest on his lip, gauging your reaction. 

“I knew you would be getting hungry soon. I told Watari to bring some acceptable food if you didn’t grab any on your way up.”

You furrowed your brows in innocent confusion, “How did you know I’d come?”

His head turned away and you notice his feet shuffling, a tell for his anxiety. 

“You always do.” He said with a shrug. 

Your heart thumped affectionately as he turned his head, and your gaze fell back onto the band of sterling silver in his eyes. You smiled fondly at the man, and he had to look away. He busied himself with the basket, pulling out nicely wrapped sandwiches in brown butcher paper. He read the options out for you and passed you your selections. He then reached in and pulled out a white box with a blue bow. He began to tug at it, then stopped, offering it to you. 

You giggled, unravelling the satin ribbon. When he pulled off the lid, a tiered display stand stood with ten layers of tiny cakes with an array of colours, creams, and toppings. L looked over the selection with a careful eye, then chose a spongy square with a raspberry on top. He pinched it between his fingers and brought it to his lips. You watched his selection process as you braided the ribbon into a piece of your hair, presenting it to your friend with a smile. He nodded in approval, and then you finally took a bite of your sandwich, moaning as the myriad of flavours filled your senses. 

“Oh my god, this is delicious,” you said, pushing it towards Ryusaki, “You’ve gotta try it.”

His chewing stops as he eyes the sandwich in front of him like it were a loaded gun. 

“I’m okay.” He said politely. 

You accepted his dismissal, taking another bite from your sandwich, but still curious about it. 

“Why don’t you eat anything but sugar?” You asked through a mouthful of sourdough. 

“Well,” Ryusaki began, “Desserts tend to be more homogeneous in texture and taste. I find most ‘real’ food reduces my deductive skills by approximately twenty-five percent.”

You looked up at the beauty of the ending day around you and breathed in the air of the city. 

“Do you need your deductive skills right now?” You asked softly, eyes still trained on the sky. 

Moments passed in peaceful silence. You could hear a dog barking and the mummer of the life teeming below you. People going about their everyday lives, despite the horror of this new world. You tried to join them now and then, encouraging Ryusaki to do the same– to have a life outside of, despite of Kira. From your peripherals, you saw him spread his knees apart, sitting in a cross-legged position. You watched as he continued adjusting, trying to find a comfortable position. When he settled, you turned your eyes to his. 

“Would you like some tea?” You asked. 

He nodded his head, and you poured him half a cup from the teapot, filling the rest with cream and sugar, just the way he liked it. He thanked you when you passed it to him, fingers brushing briefly. You could tell he was a little uncomfortable, probably much more in tune with the “loss of thought” he was experiencing than any other person would be. He held his cup in both hands, elbows resting on his knees as he looked into the wheat-coloured drink. You left L to his thoughts, knowing he would share them if he deemed them important. You instead focused on tucking the rest of your sandwich away, opening another to try. You were happy Watari cared enough to cut them into little triangles. 

“What are your plans after the Kira case?”

You nearly choked on your sandwich, not expecting the question. You wiped at your mouth with a napkin, trying to grab your composure. 

“I haven’t given much thought to it,” you said, “but I know it will be a bittersweet moment when we catch him.”

Ryuga sat up a little, his interest piqued as he took another sip of his tea. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” you began, “I’ve met a lot of great people by working on this investigation. I don’t imagine our paths will cross much once this is all resolved, even if we do survive. But it makes me happy to think that one day they’ll get to walk into their front doors and hug their families without the fear of them being ripped away as collateral damage.”

“Not to mention,” You continued, “at the risk of sounding selfish, this job has some really nice perks. I’m compensated well, I get free room and board, I haven’t done my own laundry in four months, and I can even get company-provided gourmet picnics on the rooftop. There’s a lot to miss.”

“I must admit, I will miss the camaraderie,” L said softly. “But I fear the fallout from Kira’s arrest more.”

You knew what he meant. If he was right, and Light and Misa were Kira and The Second Kira, then it would destroy the task force. Matsuda’s heart would shatter, as would Mogi’s, though he’d hide it better than the former. Chief Yagami would likely suffer another heart attack, or perhaps snap entirely. And while you yourself didn’t want to believe it, you couldn’t deny what you knew was true. With the proof of shinigami's existence and an otherworldly murder weapon disguised as a harmless notebook downstairs, nothing could be ruled out. You questioned what other powers came with the notebook, and how those powers transferred. 

Bribing Ryuke into answering all your questions was easy enough. It turns out he had never known the taste of a Fuji apple, only enjoying the common red delicious. One was enough to get him hooked. You presented everything you had learned about ownership of the notebook, how it can be passed, and how it affects the user. You and L had come to the same conclusion: sometime in Light’s confinement, he transferred ownership, as did Misa. You knew for sure when Misa visited Light the other day in the lobby. 

At the beginning of the investigation, he refused to toy with her emotions, as it went against his code. And you found it comforting, knowing Kira would have no problem doing that, and Light was immediately opposed. For months, he made no effort to show affection to Misa, rebuffing any advance or innuendo she made, but you watched as he brought her into a hug. You watched as she melted into it, savouring the sparring touch and every word he whispered into her ear. You knew he hadn’t magically fallen in love with the girl, but was using the love she had for him. 

Yes, Light had changed, and the repercussions were terrifying.

Ryusaki was silent. By now, the sun had set, and the moon began climbing up a ladder of stars. The candlelight flickered, making shadows jump and jive across your friend’s face. The shifts were jarring, but the gentle lighting softened his hardened edges. Your eyes traced the slope of his nose, down his plush lips, and his long neck. You wished to stretch out a curious finger to replace your itinerant eyes. 

“Would you like a cake?” Ryusaki asked, changing the subject. You allowed the distraction, deciding you would bring it up again later, but not know. 

You selected one with orange filling and chocolate drizzle. It was delicious, falling apart in your fingers as you ate it. You heard a soft chuckle leave your friend's mouth and you looked up at him confused. He said nothing, instead motioning towards his face. You tilted your head, not understanding what he meant. Before you could ask, L brought a napkin to the corner of your mouth, gently rubbing it across your bottom lip. 

Your heart stopped beating and your lungs stopped breathing. His touch was like the flames of the flickering candles, igniting the skin he polished. His eyes flicked up to yours and you were lost in a pool of obsidian, his pupils vast in the stary night. 

“There,” he said softly, “all gone.”

You searched for your voice, and it came out in a breathy whisper, “Thanks.”

He continued, unbothered by the unprecedented physical contact while you took a sip of your tea, in hopes that would help your unsteady heart. Before you had much time to recover, He spoke again. 

“My favourite colour is blue.”

You blinked dumbly, at the man as he readjusted uncomfortably. 

“My favourite cake is Strawberry Vanilla Sponge Cake,” He continued, “and I sing in the shower.”

You laughed out of shock, and words continued to spill from his mouth like he couldn’t stop them. 

“If I could have a superpower, I would want invisibility. I think four-leaf clovers are ridiculously overblown, but I admire their inherent whimsy. I really like The Beatles, which is very embarrassing as I am British. But even more so because I listen to ‘We Can Work It Out’ when I get frustrated. They bring me a sort of comfort. I’ve always wanted a cat. I think it’s funny when they’re given people names, or named after ridiculous things. If I had one, I’d get a tuxedo cat and name it 3,4,4,5-tetramethylcyclohexa-2,5-dien-1-one.” You open your mouth to ask what that was, but he answered it before you could, “It’s a cyclic dienone, more commonly known as penguinone, and though it has no applicable uses, it’s funny.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his sudden urge to tell you all of these things. In his unblinking eyes, you saw something close to desperation and it confused you, forcing you to look away. You missed the way Ryusaki’s face fell. 

“Are you…upset?” he asked cautiously. “I’m sorry if I overshared.”

“No, no,” You reassured, trying to alleviate some of the guilt that filled your chest at his apprehension. “I’m just confused”

“I was trying to establish trust,” he explained cooly. 

Your brows furrowed, “Do you think I don’t trust you?”

“No, I-” he paused, releasing a sigh that moved his shoulders. 

“Ignore me,” he said sadly, “Nothing I say lately seems to make much sense.”

Your heart shattered at the uncertainty in his voice. He usually spoke with such conviction. To hear him unsure, insecure in sensibility– his intelligence, really –it made you nauseous. 

“Ryusaki,” you began, but he looked away. 

“Ryusaki,” you tried again, this time resting a hand on his shoulder, “your sense is still very intact. You’re not the crazy one.”

He looked at your hand, where it rested without hesitancy. 

“Look,” you continued, “Someone is trying to kill you. And it could very likely be your best friend. You’re making more sense than anyone else would in your situation.”

Suddenly his eyes shot to yours. There was a small fire burning there, and you worried that you had upset him. You began to remove your hand, but he rested his on yours, keeping it pressed against his shoulder. Your heart leapt at the contact, and you prayed he didn’t notice. Though, if you knew anything about Ryusaki, he did and already tucked it away as useful information. 

“Light Yagami is not my best friend.” He said simply, “You are.” 

You couldn’t fight the smile that sprouted from the sentiment. 

“Really?” You asked in disbelief.

“Of course, I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Your smile grew more teasing, “But you didn’t even chain yourself to me.”

L smiled too, “I didn’t have to.”

Time passed in silence. It was a bit awkward, your hand remained on his shoulder as the candles burned. You were getting chilly, the night air nipping at you through your t-shirt. L’s hand kept yours still, you were much too nervous to move it away. Especially when you could see your friend thinking very hard. 

He suddenly turned toward you, removing his hand and jostling yours. His thumb came to his lip, running it across and moving the muscle. 

“There are a lot of social customs that I haven’t gotten to participate in, due to my isolated childhood, and even more so because of my dangerous career,” he said, “for instance, I had never had friends until this investigation, and now I have three. But that also means I haven’t experienced a lot of the common experiences that come with friendship.”

He looked you over, trying to gauge your reaction thus far. You seemed at ease but attentive. His eyes darted to the blue streak in your hair, and felt a warmth blossoming in his chest. He was amazed by how light-hearted you could be, despite the heavy burdens you carried. You shone so brightly, he was almost embarrassed to ask you to share.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to help me with that. I think it’s important to my development, and general understanding of the human condition.”

You were delighted to hear that he was thinking about such “trivial” things. As you became closer to L, you quickly realised that he lived a very lonely life. You could tell he had convinced himself that was what he wanted, but you knew a life of work wasn’t enough, and he deserved more. You always encouraged him to take care of more than his brain; to value his body and his spirit as well. 

“Of course L,” you nearly cheered, “what did you have in mind?”

You waited patiently for his response, trying your best not to shrink under his gaze. You were sure that his eyes were a large reason as to why he made such a great detective. When he focused his eyes on someone, it made them feel see-through; like he could see everything that made up that person. Like he could read your thoughts. 

“Can I-“ he began, then stopped. It was rare to see him trip over his words. “I would like- would it be okay if we hugged?”

Lightning struck across the sky, and you flinched, startled by the sound. You looked up into the dark, trying to find the flash of light you knew was long gone. You spotted the thick, rolling clouds hovering above you, and you hadn’t noticed before. Then the thunder rumbled, and the cry was resonant, penetrating your bones as it rolled through you. Then slowly, rain began falling from the sky. A few drops landed on your face, and you could feel them beginning to stick to your clothes. 

When your shock faded away, you looked back at your friend. He was looking at you intently, hunched over like always. You opened your mouth to respond, but L spoke before you. 

“Let’s step inside,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder like you had before, “you’re shivering.”

You hadn’t realised that you were, but as you looked down at your hands, you couldn’t deny the tremble. He stood and began packing up everything on the blanket, refusing your help when you offered even though the rain had picked up. It was steady now, easily soaking through your clothes and his in turn. Once everything was tucked away, he guided you inside, opening the door for you. 

As you walked down the steps, your mind spun around his words. He had asked to hug you, someone who you thought would be pretty averse to physical touch. You were surprised he let you lay a hand on him at all, and even more surprised when he reciprocated the action. It could’ve just been an experiment, a test to see how it made him feel, but you found yourself reviewing your own results. 

You hadn’t really touched L before. There was no reason to. Even when he fell out of his chair over the whole “Shinigami” thing, you let the others crowd him. Your hands had maybe brushed here and there when passing sweets or documents, but intentional, prolonged contact was never made until today. You couldn’t deny his behaviour had been odd lately, though that was to be expected with the stress he was under. You wondered if he was indulging out of curiosity or a fear of missing out on life. 

You jumped again as another bolt of lightning struck across the sky, followed by the soft beginnings of rain, now slowly collecting on the glass walls around you. You began walking down the hall and jerked your head to beckon Ryusaki, who seemed deep in thought. You watched the rain grow, drops colliding and running down the glass. You stopped to trace the tracks left, your body shuttering against the cold.

“I’m sorry,” your friend spoke quietly, as there was no one but you here, and no reason to raise a voice. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You looked at him with shock, but he refused to look at you. 

“Ryusaki, I haven’t felt uncomfortable around you since we started this investigation. Why would that change now?” When he didn’t respond, you bumped his shoulder with yours, “Seriously though, if you ever do make me uncomfortable, I won’t let you live it down.”

“Good,” he said, nodding his head. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You both continued to stare off into the distance in silence. You began breathing out hot puffs of air and drawing in the condensation. Meaningless shapes littered the space as you got lost in your thoughts. 

You felt stuck between knowing and knowing nothing. You knew that You cared for Ryusaki very much. You knew you trusted him with your life, and you always felt better when he was around. You knew that you desired his attention and approval more than anyone else’s. You knew that he was beautiful and kind. But you didn’t know if he felt any of those things about you. You didn’t know what those things meant. Or rather, you feared what they could mean, and what that would do to the both of you.

Your thoughts were interrupted once again when you felt a weight on your shoulders, and you looked down to see pale, slender hands embellished with tendons and glistening in the light. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing him appear so close behind you in your shared reflection. 

“You’re still shivering.” He didn’t look at you, his eyes obscured by his shaggy hair, “A blanket should help.” 

You offered a kind, timid smile in thanks, turning to face him. Your cheeks filled with blood though you couldn’t quite pin down why. Maybe it was just because he was touching you again when he’s never really done that before. Or maybe it was the fact that he was concerned about you. Or maybe it was the intimacy of it all, how close he was and how gentle his touch was. 

His hallowed, all-seeing eyes met yours and you lost your breath. You wanted to look away, feeling pierced by his gaze, but you couldn’t– you wouldn’t. “If this isn’t sufficient, let me know. It’s my fault you’re cold.”

“No, it’s not,” You chuckled as he adjusted the material on your shoulder, “I walked out willingly. Yeah, you baited me into staying with food and tea, but I saw your plan, and I decided to go along with it.”

L smiled shyly, “I never could fool you.”

Your brows furrowed, and your heart sank. 

“Can.” You corrected sternly. “You never can fool me.”

“Ah, Of course.” L said, removing his hands from you and tucking them back into his pockets, “You’re too observant for me to keep a secret. You’re always the first in the room to know what I’m thinking.”

He didn’t directly address his slip-up– referring to himself in the past tense as if he had died –so you didn’t either, instead filing that away under “more things to bring up later”. 

“What can I say?” You teased. “Great minds think alike.”

“That they do,” he muttered, though you could tell his mind had taken him far away again. 

You turned back to the window, and he joined you there. The rain had picked up, the heavy clouds drawing nearer. Your body buzzed with the electricity in the air. You could feel the winds of change surging through the city, and it filled you with determination.

“You should change,” Ryusaki whispered, “you’ll catch a cold.”

“Please,” You said, rolling your eyes and landing on his. “We were out there for less than an hour, and it never dropped below four degrees.”

“That’s still rather cold,” He hid his eyes from you, and you missed the sparks he carried there. “Not to mention the addition of rain.”

“If you’re so worried about my immune system,” you quipped, “studies show that hugs can actually help fight illness.”

That got a reaction out of the man, whipping his head to look at you. 

“Is that so?” He asked, amusement teeming in his thin, grey irises. “Is it the exposure to more germs?”

“Possibly,” You admitted, “But it’s mostly the stress relief. Hugs reduce your cortisol and noradrenaline levels, improving blood pressure and general heart health. Also, with both of our body heats working together, it might help warm me up.”

L brought his thumb to his lip again, pondering your words. 

“Maybe you have a point.” He muttered, “Perhaps we should test this theory.”

You agreed but neither of you moved, both too afraid to make the first move. You had hugged people before. You had hugged your family and many friends, so hugging Ryusaki shouldn’t be that nerve-racking, and yet, your body was buzzing just at the concept. 

Suddenly, L Spread his arms, his figure drowning in his baggy sweater. It happened in slow motion, or at least it felt like it did. He dove towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around you, unintentionally pinning yours to your side, and his chin landed on the crown of your head gently. 

You tensed, not expecting him to just go for it. Your face was pressed into his chest, your nose brushing his collarbone because of how his sweater had shifted. You were suddenly self-conscious breathing on him, trying your best to make sure your lungs were expanding and contracting naturally, but you could feel the awkwardness in your muscles. 

“I don’t think this is working,” He said, his jaw moving against your head, “Your heart rate has only elevated. This seems to be…bothersome to you.”

He slowly removed himself but remained close, focusing his trying eyes on you, hands back in his pockets. “Please, tell me how you feel.”

“Well, firstly, you surprised me.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. Laughter bubbled up due to his unwavering gaze that affected you, though you didn’t want to concede to that. “And second, I’m not sure that counted as a hug. You trapped my arms, so I couldn’t reciprocate it properly.”

“I see,” He said, not showing any emotion you could detect (And you had gotten pretty good at reading L at this point). “What can I do better?”

His determination was…adorable. He was adamant about this, about hugging you better. You wouldn’t have thought this was something he ranked so highly in importance, and you felt flattered. 

“Open your arms again,” You instructed, scooting closer. 

He followed your orders, his head tilting to the side in curiosity. You took a quick breath, then brought your arms around his waist, then rested your ear between his pecs. There you heard his heart. You expected a steady thrum, but instead, the muscle beat like a kick drum without cause. But you supposed if you only fed your body sugar and caffeine, your heart would go crazy too.

He was also much comfier than you expected his skin and bones to be. His frame felt right in your arms, and a word flitted through your mind: safe. He was safe here in your arms, and you felt safe here too. 

You remembered then that he was still standing there with his arms fully extended, like an owl stretching their wings. 

“You can wrap your arms around me like before now,” You said into his chest. 

He did as you said, and you felt an instant relief. Your blanket was wrapped around him, and you were surrounded by L. He was soft, like the petals of a Gardinia– like the ones your mother used to grow. He smelled like chocolate and strawberries, though with his diet, you were sure he sweated out sugar. In the refracted light the droplets cast, it looked just like that, like sugar crystals dancing across his skin.

Your nose picked up hints of lavender you recognised as the fabric softener Watari swore by. You wanted to bottle the sents and wear them yourself. You found yourself snuggling in closer, drawn in by the comforts of L.

You sighed in contentment, closing your eyes. His heartbeat stabilized, beating slower but strong. Slowly, he adjusted himself, bringing his arms tighter around you and turning so his ear rested against you and not his hewn jaw. Many moments went by like that, with nothing but the instrumental played by the rain, steady breathing, and hearts beating. As time went on, your heartbeats began to sync, beating together. You felt warmth spread throughout you at the thought. You liked this. You liked being close to Ryusaki. 

“How long do these usually last?” He whispered into the rich silence. 

“It depends on the friends, everyone’s comfort levels.” You replied thoughtfully. “Some people only hug for a few seconds; others hold each other like this. But it’s recommended that you get at least four hugs a day.”

He hummed, considering your answer. “I definitely haven’t been fulfilling that quota.”

“It’s okay,” You said through a laugh, “Me either.”

“Perhaps,” L said, putting on his detective voice, “If you have found this as enjoyable as I, we could do this more often– try to reach that benchmark more. The act of hugging seems to increase my oxytocin levels, which feels different than the dopamine confections give me. If it affects you the same way, I think that could be good for us both.”

Your laughter danced across this skin. “I can’t believe you can feel the difference between happy hormones.”

“Of course I can.” He said, completely unphased by your disbelief. “Dopamine feels more like I’m doing a good job, and Oxytocin is…”

You waited patiently while he found the words. 

“Oxytocin makes me more…sentimental,” He landed on. 

“I guess that makes sense,” You mumbled into his chest. “Weirdo.”

He chuckled at the title that would have hurt coming from anyone else. 

“I would be okay with that,” You said, addressing his proposal, “If we hugged more often.”

“Great,” He said, and you could hear his smile. L could feel how the cold continued to cling to your skin. Although hugs were supposed to help fight illness, he doubted it was a cure. “We should finish up then so you can change.”

He released his hold on you and began to pull away, but without thinking, you held on tighter, your brows furrowing. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I’m not sure,” you said honestly. “I just don’t want to leave this.” L brought a hand to his chin, cradling it and trying his best not to jostle you. “Is it the hug that you want, or is it me?”

Your eyes bugged at his question. Immediately, you let go, creating distance as you jumped back. You reacted as if he had struck you instead of asking a straightforward question to better understand the situation. 

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, not unlike a fish plucked from the water.

“Well, I- It’s uh…I mean- heh -what?” You stumbled. Again, L’s shark skin eyes bore into yours, dissecting every stutter and stammer.

“I believe the question was fairly easy to comprehend.” He said plainly, “I asked if it was the hug you wanted or me.”

You felt blood rush to your cheeks. 

“I understood the question,” You weakly defended. 

L’s head dropped once again to the side, his hair flopping loosely as he moved but still weighing down over his face. 

“Then answer it.”

You swallowed. He had cornered you, baiting you by insinuating you weren’t as intelligent as he thought and getting you to confess that you in fact were not confused. But in truth, you were. Because it was true that you were extremely touched-starved. You had dedicated the better half of the last year to catching Kira. You hadn’t had time for much else. You weren’t exactly popular before either. 

You were a criminal, a cyber-robinhood. You had stolen from several pharmaceutical companies and redistributed their funds to families in need. You thought it absolutely abhorrent that the companies could make money off of cancer and diabetes, depriving people of medicine they needed, not wanted. You had done it with your best friend, who was killed by Kira.

She had taught you the ropes and how to hide yourself from the authorities. She, however, had crossed the line. She began targeting government officials, leaking their private messages and phone records to the public. You would have thought that would align with Kira’s morals, but you guess not because she died of a heart attack in your arms. You hadn’t made a friend since, not until Ryusaki. 

You didn’t want him to leave you too. You were terrified that he would be ripped away from you, much like your friend before. But it was more than that. You wanted Ryusaki to live. You wanted him to have a full life, one of joy and contentment. One where his intelligence wasn’t weaponised. One where he could let his guard down and not break his back with his posture. You wanted him to drown in hugs, to never be deprived of comfort again. And you wanted to be by his side to see it.

You had become very attached to the man before you. You admired him, respected him. You found yourself trying to be more like him in many ways. And you felt pride every time he mimicked you. 

“I don’t know.”

L was unconvinced, leaning in closer, “Yes, you do. But you won’t say.”

You stared into his eyes, words eluding you. What could you say? You weren’t even sure what you wanted, what your answer would be. He looked at you curiously, awaiting your response. When you had none, he sighed. 

“Fine then,” He said, turning his investigative gaze away from you. “I will escort you to your room. Hopefully, that will satisfy you.”

You had requested a room here at headquarters and were unsurprised when L told you that he had already built one for everyone on the task force. You had all but moved in during the Kira case. You hadn’t meant to, but it was just easier than taking the train alone after a late night of investigating. With no one to stop you, you would stay up until three ante merīdiem, studying and analysing trends. Sometimes you would crash at your desk, but usually, you would drag yourself away when you noticed your eyes becoming heavy. But now, your apartment was more of a formality than anything else. L knew this and made no comments on the matter. He was happy you stayed here instead, and that the rooms weren’t a complete waste of time and effort. 

As you travelled through the silent halls, you brought your blanket tighter around your shoulders, tensing your jaw so your teeth didn’t chatter. Ryusaki seemed unbothered by the cold. He showed no signs of discomfort other than the way his shoulders folded forward more than they usually did. You wondered if he was just suppressing them or if he truly wasn’t cold. But then you saw a small shiver travel down his spine. 

“You never told me,” you said softly, “what you were doing out there?”

His steady pace was unwavering, his bare feet gently padding across the tiled floors of the hall. 

“Thinking,” He replied but offered nothing more. 

“Of course you were thinking, that’s all you know to do. ” You joked, “What were you thinking about?”

He took a few more steps, then stopped. You continued forward until you were standing side by side. He stared ahead, but you turned to face him. You watched as his face remained flat, unchanged. 

“I was thinking about my death,” he said plainly, continuing his previous pace. “I reviewed my mental record of my will, noting necessary amendments. Due to recent events, I felt it something I reconsider.”

Your stomach twisted at his casualness, and you looked away. How could he say that and have no feeling about it? Or rather, rationalize whatever feelings he had about the situation away?

“You-” You began, your words tripping over the lump in your throat, “you shouldn’t talk like that. You’re not going to die.”

You said it with finality, though your friend heard the subtle desperation, the fear beneath your bravado. 

He stopped again, and when you turned to him, he turned as well. His eyes seemed almost hollow as he spoke. 

“We all die. And I happen to find myself in a position in which I am taunting the reaper.”

L did a lot of staring, and this one you took as a personal challenge. He knew what you meant, and he was purposefully not addressing it. You weren’t backing down; you weren’t folding for him. The other members of the task force often forgot that he was human; you refused to forget. While he was smarter than anyone you had ever met, he wasn’t a supercomputer. He had hopes and dreams; he had fears. 

“We’re here,” he said, interrupting this game of blink.

You hadn’t realised you had arrived at your room and hesitated at the door. 

“Would you like me to step inside?” He offered. 

You nodded. 

“Very well then.”

He opened the door and you stepped in. He closed the door behind him, then stood a few feet into the room, scratching at his leg with his foot. You made your way to your closet, selecting a new shirt and some sweatpants, then went to your dresser, selecting new undergarments.

L looked to the wall after catching a glimpse of the lacey bra you balanced from your finger. You looked to your friend, ready to ask him to turn around, when you noticed his head already turned and a slight rosy hue crawling up his exposed neck. He was usually so devoid of colour; the splash of pink was a nice touch. You wondered what had flustered him and if it had anything to do with you. The thought made you excited, but you chose not to acknowledge that. 

“I’m changing now,” You said, turning away from him. 

L tried his best to keep his eyes off of you, but soon, your hands were in the air as you peeled off your shirt, and his curiosity won. His eyes traced over the exposed skin, counting the vertebrae up your back. His breath hitched slightly as you reached behind you and unlatched your bra. He caught himself imagining what it would look like if you were turned around and ripped his eyes away again. After all, you were his friend, and it was inappropriate to think such things about a friend. Especially one that trusted him enough to change in front of him. He would rather die than abuse your trust. 

Soon, you were wiggling out of your pants, and his eyes betrayed him, following the movement of your hands. The cotton panties you wore were nothing special, plain and purple and a bit cheeky. It clung to the shape of your ass beautifully. His eyes bugged involuntarily, and he decided he could no longer trust himself to be facing you and turned his body. 

As he faced the wall, he considered your interactions today. You had sought him out and then joined him outside despite knowing the discomfort the cold would bring you. Meaning you valued his amusement more than your comfort. You entertained his tangents and encouraged him to try new things, which meant that his general well-being must be something of importance to you. Why else would you go out of your way to protect it?

Yes, you wanted him to be happy and made that a responsibility of your own. You coached him through a new experience and reassured his insecurities about it. He had hugged you for two minutes and thirty seconds, but you had held him for two minutes and thirty-nine seconds. So you enjoyed the physical comfort, and obviously desired more, as you only stopped when he shocked you. 

That’s right, you pulled away when he asked if you "wanted him." So enjoying his company was fine, but once "wanting" became a part of the equation, you rejected it. Or tried your best to. But you didn’t deny that you still desired his presence, allowing him to escort you to your room, where you took off your clothes in front of him. 

When he looked at the incidents individually, it could all be chalked up to you being a good friend– one who trusted and respected him –but he was a better detective than that. He also knew to look at the big picture. In his mind, he replaced himself with other people, like puppets in a play, and saw how your reactions changed.

He found it hard to believe that you would allow someone else on the team to hold you for two minutes, lure you into the rain, or risk them seeing you in your underwear. Which begged the question, why do you treat him differently? How does your perception of him differ from the others?

Then it became abundantly clear, and he was shocked. The conclusion he came to seemed ludicrous, and yet, it was the only one that made sense-- the only one that stood with the evidence. How could this be? There was only one way to know. 

He called your name and you hummed in response, putting on a new shirt and turning to face him. 

“You evaded my question.” He remarked, still looking at the wall. “However, I think your evasion– and the several events surrounding it –has given me a more clear understanding of the answer you were guarding.”

You felt a general unease, not sure you liked the direction his inquisitive mind was heading. You wrung your hands anxiously in front of you, looking at the back of his head. You should have known L wouldn’t let that go. 

“I told you I didn’t know.”

He turned quickly, catching you off guard. He was once again very close to you, his eyes dancing with curiosity and a bit of pride. It was a look you saw when he presented a theory based on new evidence he had finally made sense of that had previously baffled the team. You knew he was confident in whatever he had deduced and was more amused by your responses, watching carefully with a thumb pressed to his lip just a few inches away from your face. 

“But I don’t think it was the complete truth,” he pressed, “which makes it a lie of omission.”

“I didn’t lie,” You quickly defended. 

“But I saw it: a realisation flitting across your face. You looked at the evidence and came to a conclusion. You have some idea as to why you reacted to my question the way you did, and you have an answer. Does the answer put you in a position of vulnerability perhaps?”

You gaped at him, unsure how to respond. However, he continued to think aloud, answering your question for you with his own ramblings. 

“Yes, that must be it. In answering whether you merely wanted more affection or me, it would force you to admit that you had a need that wasn’t being met. And since we had already discussed our general lack of affection in day-to-day life, revealing that you felt you wanted more hugs would not make you uncomfortable… no, it has to be me that you want. That’s the only reason you would react that way. Which makes me wonder, in what way do you want me?

“My phrasing may have impacted your response, as ‘want’ can mean different things in certain contexts. However, if you thought of me in a strictly platonic sense, you would not have assumed I meant anything more than my company. There is, of course, the possibility that previous interactions in male friendships lead you to believe I meant something else, but I think it is more likely that you interpreted it romantically because you have– on some level –romantic feelings for me. And by answering the question honestly, you would have revealed that.”

He paused for a moment before asking, “Am I right?”

Your brain was spinning, repeating every word he had said. He waited patiently as you mulled it over. You tried to disprove his theory, picking each line and defending the opposite, but it became harder and harder the longer you went on. You weren’t sure how you saw the man in front of you. He was your friend, someone you respected and cared for. You valued his opinion and you listened to his advice. But you couldn’t deny that you found him attractive. You had since you first met him. 

After your friend had died, it didn’t take you long to piece together that it was Kira who killed her. You brought your theory to the police, but they didn’t take you seriously. Apparently, there had been many false reports of Kira's murders, and yours was the fifteenth report that day. You continued to argue, but you didn’t even get past the front desk. That night, when you got back home, you decided you would do everything you could to catch the killer. You broke into the police database– which was entirely too easy –then followed up with everyone they suspected. You used your skills to hack into the suspects' computers, scouring through their histories and files, but didn’t find anything incriminating. Except for one man. 

He was too innocent, not even a record of porn on his computer. Most of his search results were quiz questions with brief breaks spent streaming funny videos. He was a studious pupil and the son of a cop. You consulted the police’s notes often and were surprised when they claimed it could be a student. Then soon after, the pattern of killings changed, further proving the theory.

You were convinced it was Light Yagami, but you needed more. So you tried to hack into L’s computer. You knew from the police notes of the meetings that L called in using a computer, meaning he had to have a Wi-Fi connection to talk to them in real time. It took you a while to hack the secure connection, and even longer to get into the computer. You felt defeated– outsmarted –when you realised the only thing on the device was whatever system he used for the calls and whatever connection he used for that was heavily encrypted. 

You thought nothing more of the event until you were picked up off the street a few weeks later. You were grabbed and bound, the assailant immediately gagging and blindfolding you. The drive was long, and you were taken somewhere with winding hallways and cold rooms. You were restrained to a table, straps keeping you upright, and then your gag was removed. 

You yelled in anger, cursing your capture and illustrating all the ways in which you would make them suffer for treating you this way. You only stopped when a robotic voice filled the room. It asked who you were, but you ignored its question, connecting the dots. 

“You’re L,” You said plainly, “The renowned detective. You’ve solved every case you’ve ever taken on. And you apprehended me– confining me and taking away my vision –meaning you must think I’m Kira. You know who I am, that’s why you’ve taken me in.”

He confirmed your suspicions and listed out the crimes you had committed, and your behaviours that made him suspect you. You couldn’t deny his deductions, and instead of trying to prove your innocence, you told him about your own mission to catch Kira. You even apologised for trying to hack him as well, “but you understand, I had to try.”

He kept you tied up for a few, very long days, then let you walk around the room, giving you access to a bed and a few books. Now and then he would check in on you and offered to make amends for the misunderstanding. You only requested that he hear you out. 

You told him about your theories and how you were disregarded by the police. He was the first person to tell you that he believed your friend was murdered and that it had more to do with them talking out against Kira online than the crimes they had committed. And that only angered you more.

Soon, he began to trust you. He showed you his face. He was nothing like you imagined, but everything you expected. He was odd; he looked almost sickly and was very deadpan. But he had a sense of humour, one that was just as odd as him. He was straightforward forward, and you didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking, as he often shared his thoughts. He was kind, having an obvious affinity for sweets, but always willing to share with you. He asked about you and your life, and you could tell he was cataloguing everything you had to say. He listened so intently when you spoke. 

You only grew closer, looking forward to your meetings in the following weeks, and were elated when he told you about the new headquarters and how he wanted to introduce you to the rest of the team. He was impressed by your resourcefulness and intellect, but more importantly your passion. You were driven by revenge, but soon that changed. L believed in you, and you wanted to honour that. 

Despite his quarks, you saw his soft underside, and it drew you in more. He was fascinating to you, alluring. 

Was that normal for a friend? To simply see them and feel better, to seek out their company? Yeah, you guess it was, but you didn’t think it was as normal to think your friend is pretty. Friends don’t trace jaw lines or let their eyes linger on outstretched fingers and moving lips. Is that what you were feeling? Was your confusion and nervousness a result of an unrealised crush on your friend?

“Oh, I see,” Ryusaki mumbled, “It wasn’t an intentional lie; you only just now realised.”

You hated that he could read you as well as he could, and suddenly his proximity was suffocating. You stepped back, hiding from his gaze in your hands. It was bad enough that you had feelings for your best and only friend, but to come to that realisation in front of them –when they have the uncanny ability to practically read minds –was mortifying. You were cornered and unsure what to say. You didn’t even have time to consider what you wanted to do about your feelings before they were made known. 

You could try to deny it, but you didn’t think that would work. Not against L. So you decided to look deeper. You had pieced together how your interactions proved you liked him, but how did L fare? You compared his behaviour towards you to the others. He was kinder with you, often wording things gentler to you than he would care to for anyone else. He provided confections to everyone, but he only offered you bites from his plate. He was more candid about his feelings with you, as well as his thoughts. 

While he often toyed with the investigators, constantly testing their deductive reasoning and loyalty, L only asked what you thought to question his own conclusions. He valued your input more than others on the team, and you knew the task force was aware of that. if you were in the room, Ryusaki was always within arms reach. He never strayed far. He asked about your personal life, and he encouraged you to take breaks. He smiled and laughed around you, something you didn’t see in front of the others. You had seen L’s soft side, but only because he had shown it to you. He was vulnerable with you. But was that just friendship?

No, no there was more. Today, he cared for you, feeding you and treating you to a picnic. He apologised for your condition, completely disregarding his own. He did his best to atone for the wrong he felt he had done, going as far as to wrap you in his own warmth. He didn’t need to. He sought out the contact. Contact he didn’t look for elsewhere. Contacted he requested and asked for more of, in a less than graceful way. Tripping over words was out of character for the normally articulate detective. 

He then stayed by your side, escorting you to your room, again, disregarding the fact that he too was cold and rained on. Furthermore, any other friend would have turned away from you while you changed, but he faced you. You remembered the blush on his face before you changed. Either the idea of you undressing or something he saw you were changing into caused that response. You had difficulty believing this came from a general lack of experience with women. 

If Misa changed in front of him (which is an unavoidable event which has already happened with her room being monitored the way it is), you doubted he would have much of a reaction. Yes, you were sure. His flustered state was a result of you. 

You removed your hands from your face and looked at the man of your affection. He wore a curious look, and you smiled. 

“You’re not upset,” he observed, “Usually, people respond badly to my blunt deductions about their emotions. I expected you to yell or deny, but you’ve done neither.”

You chuckled lightly, “I don’t think there’s a way I could have denied that without further confirming your conclusion.”

“Well, your initial response of hiding from me was sufficient.” he said with a bit of smugness, “But I’m curious as to why you no longer feel the need to.”

“I don’t need to hide my feelings if you already know they exist,” you stated calmly, “And I’m sixty-seven percent sure you share my feelings, making them much less frightening.”

Rysuaki’s hidden eyebrows raised, and his eyes widened. You watched smugly as he said nothing, revelling in the pride of shocking even the great L.

You explained how you reached that conclusion, knowing that would be his first question. When you finished, he looked up to the ceiling, reevaluating the evidence. You watched as his careful mind picked apart your deduction and this time you allowed yourself to appreciate his unique beauty.

You traced the slope of his nose, following it down to the tendons in his neck and where his collar bones poked out from his baggy sweater. You greedily observed the way his clothes hung from his body, nearly swallowing him whole. 

“It is true, I am rather fond of you. I made that more obvious than I intended, however, there’s nothing to be done about it now.” He admitted, “I can’t say I’ve ever had much of a love life or much experience with romantic feelings. I’m not sure how to proceed.”

You patted the spot next to you on the bed, and he crossed the room to join you. To your surprise, he sat with his feet on the floor, hands on his thighs. 

“I think this a good place to start,” you said warmly. “We don’t have to do anything about it yet.”

He nodded but didn’t look at you. You could see the gears churning in his head, then you noticed his hands. There were impressions left in his thighs from his strong grip. Was it possible he was nervous? You couldn’t hide the delight the sight brought you. You thought it was adorable that you were something that could cause him so much grief. But you hated it too. 

You placed your hand on his and he tensed slightly, but didn’t push it away. 

“Hey,” you said softly, “Take a breath. Really, I don’t want you to stress over this. You have enough on your plate.”

He looked at your hand, his face level, silently assessing, and you allowed him the space to do so. His hand twitched a bit under yours before he turned it over, his palm meeting yours and his slender fingers weaving between your digits. 

“What if-” he paused, as if not sure he should say what he was thinking. He took a breath as you instructed, then continued. “What if I want to do something about it?”

You couldn’t contain the smile that spread across your face, and you didn’t feel a need to. 

“Then I would ask what you wanted to do.”

"It's not about what I want." He looked at you, eyes wide and panicked. “What if doing something is stupid and puts you in danger?”

You had never seen L so worked up before, and you were stunned for a moment. You realised he was letting you in, even more than before. He was letting you see his fear, something you're not sure he’s shown anyone willingly. And in this moment, you were reminded that he was just a young man. That his life had barely begun. Yet he had seen horrors you couldn’t imagine. 

“If Light is Kira,” he continued, through gritted teeth. “then you are already endangered enough. But if our relationship is now romantic, he may use you to get to me. He would have no problem killing you if it brought him closer to his goal, and we both know that.”

“Ryusaki…” you tried, rubbing your thumb against the back of his cold, clammy hand. “He already knows I care for you. The others have been teasing me about my favouritism for months now. If he thought I knew anything, or that you would tell me anything, he would have already done it. If he could, he'd probably force me to write your name in the book somehow, so he didn’t have to do it himself.” 

The fire in his eyes fizzled, and now he looked deflated again as if his anger was the only thing giving him the energy to fight. 

“Then, I can’t tell you anything,” he concluded, “and that doesn’t make for a very strong relationship. One of secrecy where I’m forced to keep you at a distance…no that won’t do.”

He let go of your hand, looking away and rising to his feet. You felt that familiar tug in your heart, the one you felt at your desk when you realised he wasn’t beside you, the same feeling when he tried to end the hug. It felt like he was leaving you, and this time, it made you angry.

“Fuck that!” you said a little harsher than you intended. L turned to look at you in surprise; you had never raised your voice to him before (Aside from that time he arrested you and you didn’t know it was him you were cursing). “I refuse to let Kira make any decisions for me. That bastard doesn’t get to stop me from doing anything I want. And I want this, I’ll fight for it.”

You spoke with a vicious resolve, and L had to admit, it was intriguing. 

“I’m done letting him ruin my life. I’m taking charge. I know there’s a way to prove it, to get him to confess. We can do it. We’ll catch that monster and frame his head on the wall.”

L was studying you; you could see it in his analytical eyes. 

“‘Monster’ you say…” he wonders aloud, “There are many types of monsters; the one we face now... he’s a lying monster: He’s cunning, posing as a human, though having no understanding of the human heart. He works hard, but only to appease his own hubris. He seeks friendship even though he does not truly know how to love. I had once said, If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by them... because, in truth, I am that monster.”

He locks eyes with you, his gaze resolute.

“Tell me, honestly, how can you hate Kira and care for me? We are the same beast.” His body towered over yours, the shadows of the light obscuring his face under his hair. He was almost intimidating. “I do not fight for justice but my own amusement. How many lives have I disregarded all because I didn’t find the case challenging enough? How many people have I endangered solving this one? I allowed who I believed to be Kira intimate knowledge of the case, all because I thought it made the game more fun. I view people as disposable, just as Kira does, and manipulate them just as freely. Kira and I are cut from the very same cloth. Yet, you despise him and respect me.”

Your stare was hard and unforgiving. Rage shook your body, and L was sure that you had changed your mind. You hated him now, just as you should. 

“No,” You said sternly, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but I won’t allow you to lie to me.”

You carefully lifted his chin, forcing him to hear you. 

“You are flawed, yes. You certainly have an ego, but that doesn’t make you a monster. If you were presented with the power of the death note, you wouldn’t use it to make yourself a god. You don’t always fight fair, but the criminals you chase don’t either, and it would be silly to try for the high road. That is what makes you such a great detective. You do what needs to be done. But that’s not why I care about you.”

You saw a flicker of surprise on his face before he buried it once again. 

“I care for you. Not L, the world’s greatest detective. I care for the man who treats me kindly and listens to my woes. I care for the man who checks in to make sure I’ve eaten and taken breaks. I care for the man who is so terrified of himself, he hides away from the world. I care for the man who was cursed with a brilliant mind and raised in a world of evil. I don’t care that you’re a genius, I’d love you dumb. I’m not interested in what you can do for me. I just want you.”

You watched as the man closed his eyes, unable to face your reverent judgment. 

“You could step away right now, and I’d never think less of you. You could imprison Light, right or wrong, and I would stand by you. You could tell me that you don’t want this, and I wouldn’t fight you.” You moved your hand from his chin to rest against his cheek. “But if you bow down to Kira– admit defeat when your heart is still beating –I’ll never forgive you.”

His eyes snapped open, and he scanned your face, looking for a lie, but found one. 

“We live in a world where gods of death are real,” you continued, “And that knowledge has made me realise even more that nothing in life is guaranteed. Nothing other than your own resolve. I chose life, and I wish you would choose the same.”

“You speak as if I am trying to kill myself.” he scrutinised. 

“Since the arrest of Higuchi, you’ve stopped investigating," You pressed, "but we both know it’s not because you think we’ve stopped Kira. There’s still a second notebook- a second Kira. And I’m sure you’ve noticed the change in Yagami, almost as if coming in contact with the book has turned him back into Kira. I see the way he looks at you, the way he studies you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” he confirmed.

“Then why? Why have you stopped trying to catch him? If he is actively trying to catch you– to kill you –and you do nothing to stop it, you are killing yourself. You’re allowing him to win. And I can’t– no, I won’t catch him without you.”

“You wouldn’t avenge me?” He asked curiously. 

“I’m here for my own selfish reasons,” you reminded him, “If you die, then everyone I have left will have been taken by Kira. What motivation would I have left to stop him?”

“I see…” he said flatly, “so if Kira is to be caught, we must both live to see it happen.” 

“Yes, but more so, I would blame you for your death. Avenging you wouldn’t be possible, as you and your killer would be one and the same. I would hate you.”

His hand joined yours, guiding it away from his face and holding it at his side.

“I’m not sure I could rest knowing you hated me. Not when you’re the only person I trust and the only person I can say I’ve ever cared for– besides Watari, of course,” He said softly, “But in all honesty, I’m not sure what to make of it. I can’t control you, and I have no desire to, but allowing you to grow any closer to me is dangerous. And I would hate myself if anything happened to you.”

His fingers traced over the creases in your hand as he spoke, memorising the fate lines. 

“But I can’t deny the attachment I have for you.” he continued, “It clouds my judgement, and I spend valuable time constantly correcting it. I’ve been indulging in delusions of running away with you. Taking you far away from the danger, placing you in a secure palace where you want for nothing, allowing you to lose yourself in all the simple pleasures your poetic mind can conjure. I would rather collect a list of books for your library than face Kira at the moment.”

You felt like crying, his words striking your heart. While it was easy to deduce that he favoured you over the others, such a blatant confession wasn’t something you expected. You knew this fantasy was built in his mind as something to make you happy, but you knew that this was something he wanted as well. To live a life of ease, not as a pawn to world governments. To be free to have intelligence and not be weaponised. You realised then, he was tired. He was exhausted from chasing Kira, exhausted from comparing himself to the enemy. 

“Let’s get out of here then.”

He looked at you curiously. 

“You can afford a break, a real one. Your mind is scattered, and you can’t possibly expect to outsmart Kira if you’re worrying about everything else.” You explained, “I’ll talk to Watari about planning a secure getaway for you but for now…”

You softly grabbed his hand and led him towards the door, “We’re going to your room so you can change. Then we’ll discuss what we’re doing for the night.”

He allowed you to lead him down the hall, saying nothing while you travelled. He only spoke again after you stepped into his room. 

“I am not often surprised,” he marveled “But you continue to amaze me. I can’t predict you. You’re courageous and strong-willed, but always kind. You’re extremely brilliant, but you’re humble about it. But most amazingly, you believe in me– not because of what I’ve done, but because of who I am –and I’ve never met someone who could separate the two.”

You flush under his praise, “You say you can’t predict me, but I swear, you see right through me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with panic in his eyes, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You laughed, the sound affecting L more than he expected. He loved it, loved making you laugh. He wanted to do it as much as possible, but that was something to figure out later. 

“You didn’t,” you reassured, “but I do have something you can do to make it up to me,”

L smirked, knowing you were teasing him. 

“I don’t understand. I didn’t offend, but you claim I need to make amends.”

“You don’t have to. It’s completely up to you.”

“What is it you would have me do?”

You didn’t answer with words, instead spreading your arms and then making a grabby motion towards him. Your smile was soft, gently pulling at your lips. 

“Yes,” he said sweetly, “I suppose we could both use a boost of oxytocin.”

He took slow steps towards you, and then all at once, his arms were around your waist. He pulled you into him, lifting you slightly off the ground, bringing your neck to his hung head. You felt goosebumps where his nose nuzzled into your skin and your heart grew wings, soaring. You held L just as tightly, indulging in his desperate touch and burying your nose into his silky hair. 

“I think we should revise our previous agreement about hugs.” He said after a moment, speaking into your throat. 

“What amendments would you like to make?”

“I think four hugs a day is fine, but I don’t think we should limit ourselves to that. We do need to make up for our lack of hugs in the past after all. Furthermore,” he lifted his head slowly, so as not to knock you in the nose. He would feel horrible for that. “I think we could add or substitute hugs for other forms of affection as well.”

You hummed, and he continued. 

“For instance, you have held my hand twice today, and both times, I felt a similar sort of comfort from the action. In fact, I’ve noticed any skin-to-skin contact with you eases me. Your hand on my face proved that. I tested this theory twice. Once, before our confessions, on the blanket. I placed my hand on the one you had placed on my shoulder. Then again, in your room, by simply touching your hand, tracing your palm instead of holding it. Both yielded similar results.”

You smiled at him fondly, your hands reaching up to play with his hair. As your nails skated across his scalp in lazy circles, his eyes fluttered a bit, his lids resting heavier. 

“So you would like to add hand-holding? I’m fine with that.”

Your sweet voice flooded his mind, and your hands liberated his composure. 

“Either you’re completely clueless to the effect you have on me,” he whispered, “Or you revel in it. And I’m not sure which is more terrifying.”

Your heart skipped a beat, which startled L for a moment, but then he realised it was because of an emotional response and not an attack from Kira. 

“I wonder the same about you.”

L was unfamiliar with the look in your eyes. Your pupils were dilated, and your irises sparkled in the light. He’s never been looked at like that before. Your face looked brighter, and your body language (while restricted in your current position in his arms) was relaxed; open. And suddenly, he was entranced by your lips. You were talking, and he studied the muscles as they moved, unable to focus on anything else. He felt the urge to kiss you, and this shocked him. He forced himself to pay attention to your words. 

“...besides you have all the power really. I know what I want, but if you don’t want me there’s nothing I can do about it. I could never kill you, but even if Kira forced my hand, I don’t know your name. And you’re the only one on the team who knows mine. Whether I like it or not, my heart is in your hands.”

“I would never hurt you,” he quickly defended, almost offended. 

“I know,” you said simply, “That’s why I trust your hands.”

Your gaze was unwavering, your stance absolute. The emotions L tried to contain began stirring restlessly. He no longer felt like he had a hold on them. A hurricane of feelings he couldn’t quite name tore through his chest, and he didn’t know what else to do but act. He surged forward, pressing his lips to yours. It was awkward and brief, as neither of you puckered your lips, just touched them together. He kept his watchful eyes wide as he did so, gauging your response. 

“Was that a kiss?” You finally asked once your silent shock was replaced by a highly amused smile. 

A small frown overtook L’s face. “I fear if you had to ask…” 

His sentence trailed off as he sat you back down on the ground. Then turned to walk to his closet. His was much larger than yours (which was ironic given he wore the same clothes for days straight), and you assumed he elected to change there when he closed the door. Now that he was out of sight, you allowed your excitement to show, jumping up and down and shaking your hands. 

He had kissed you, almost. It was obvious that he didn't have the experience, but your heart swelled at the thought that he wanted those experiences with you. And he did kiss you, he held you in his arms, for no other reason than to hold you close.

You tried your best to calm down, but your bright smile would fool no one. Instead, you tried to focus your attention elsewhere, calling Watari. He had given you his number (or a number) months ago. He told you it was because he saw that you cared for his son and that his son trusted you. He also confessed that he was rather fond of you too. He wanted to see you make it out of this investigation. 

He answered almost immediately. 

“Hello, Ms Ogawa,” He was always careful to use your alias, even if he knew you were alone. “I notice that you’re calling from within headquarters, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I was calling because I convinced Ryusaki to take some time off. I need you to plan a trip for him, no shorter than a week but something that’s easily extendable.”

The old man chuckled on the other end of the line. 

“You convinced him to take a break? I didn’t think anyone was capable; I wonder how you managed.” He seemed amused, implying he knew something through his old man wisdom. 

“I’m not entirely certain I did,” L emerged from the closet, looking nearly identical, just less soggy. You smiled at him as he made his way towards you. “But I’ll be very cross with him if he doesn’t. I think he knows that.”

The man you spoke of raised a single eyebrow as if to say, “Oh really?”

You made a similar face that left no room for argument. 

“I see,” Watari continued, “Shall I book this trip for one or two?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at the question. You didn’t know how to answer. You didn’t have to though as L decided then to grab the phone from your hand, pinching it awkwardly between his fingers. 

“Two,” he replied on your behalf. “We’ll also need a cover so that the others don’t know we’re together.”

“Understood. How soon would you like to leave?”

L returned the phone to you, trusting your decision. 

“We’ll leave tomorrow. We have plans for tonight, and I’d like to rest beforehand.”

“That’s very wise, Ms Ogawa. I’ll send over the itinerary soon.”

“Thank you, Watari.”

You hung up, placing your phone back in your pocket. When you looked up, L’s hand was extended, offering you a sweater. 

“If you intend to go out,” he explained, “You’ll need a sweater.”

You took it gratefully, and he turned his head again, giving you space to change. When you finished pulling the shirt over your head, he looked up and felt like he had swallowed his tongue. He never anticipated that seeing you in his clothes would affect him this way. He was truly smitten by you, and that was something he could no longer deny. 

“Ready?” You asked, disrupting his train of thought. 

He nodded, and you offered him your hand. A small smile spread across his face as he took it. He trusted your hands too, he realised. 

You reached the garage, selecting an inconspicuous sedan for your ventures. L moved to open the door when you stopped him. 

“Wait!” Your heart was in your throat, but you closed your eyes and forced out the words. “My favourite flowers are poppies. I think it’s cool how versatile they are. The moon absolutely amazes me. I understand how its gravitational pull affects our tides, but I still can’t wrap my mind around it. I also really like The Smiths, which raises conflicting feelings in me because I hate Morrison as a person, but man, if he isn’t great as crying into a microphone.”

You heard a soft chuckle and felt a hand reach out to hold your bicep. You took a deep breath, continuing with Ryusaki’s encouragement. 

“I prefer a good milkshake over any other dessert. I think time travel is probably the coolest superpower, but I think it’s too great a power that I wouldn’t trust myself with it. I like cats, but I’ve always wanted a pet raccoon. I don’t think I could get one, morally, but they just look so cute. If I had one, I would love that little guy so much. I would give him a really pretentious name; find a way to grant him Lordship.”

You opened your eyes slowly to see Ryusaki smiling, his thumb tracing circles on your arm. His eyes darted around your face, twinkling in city lights. His heart pounded harder with every word you uttered. Romance was never something he prioritised in his life, it wasn’t something he ever saw happening. Most people were put off by him, and it wasn’t often that he actually met people in his work. He could have lived the rest of his life hiding behind a computer screen, an imperceivable entity known only to one man. But now, he would give anything to stand in the sun with you while you look at him the way you do now. Affection and amnesty dripping from your gaze. 

“I’d like to try and kiss you again,” he said timidly. “If you’d show me how.”

Your smile split your face, feeling overjoyed by his words. Each move you made, he mirrored, hands on cheeks and bodies touching as he matched your steps forward. You jumped up on your tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Ryusaki’s eyes widened comically, and a hand rose to his lips as if he’d find your kiss there. But soon, his shock dissipated, replaced by a look of hunger. 

This time, he led, dropping a hand to your waist to hold you close and using his other to lift your chin. He moved in so slowly, and your body thrummed with the anticipation of contact. He stopped, his lips barely grazing yours, and you couldn’t hide your desperate tremble when you felt his soft breath against your own. He pressed his puckered lips against yours, and you took no time reciprocating. 

You brought a hand to the back of his neck, guiding him and pulling him closer. You felt like you were flying, your heart beating its feathered wings against your ribcage. You pulled your lips away just to bring them back, and you could feel his confidence growing as he tilted his head and his grip on your waist grew tighter. You began moving your lips against his, testing the waters. The rhythm was awkward at first, but he caught it soon enough. 

His chest was rising and falling quickly against you, and he brought his hands up to hold your face. You lost yourself in his touch, in the way he clung to you. You were being consumed and felt no dire to run from it. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and you gasped. 

Your eyelids flutter as your brain caught up to what was happening around you. Ryusaki was no longer kissing you but carefully cataloguing the look on your face in his mind. He was reviewing everything he did and how you reacted to it. He had decided that he loved kissing you, and he wanted you to love it too. He wanted love to be something you associated with him, especially now that he knew his brain was making a similar connection. He knew it was probably too soon to say something like that, but he could wait. He would wait forever if he had to. He had the brightest star in the sky in his palms, and he didn’t intend to let this shooting star fall from his grasp. 

You were seeing sides of L that you never thought you would, ones you never thought to look for. He held you like a precious stone, something sacred. He looked at you like you were a wonder to behold, the eighth wonder of the world. It made it hard to breathe, suffocated by his silent adoration. 

“So, where are we going this evening?” He asked from high above. 

“I don’t know,” you said breathlessly, “but we have all of Tokyo, I’m sure we’ll find something.”

He loved this look on you. The joy in your eyes, the lack of stress in your muscles. Your glee was infectious, and he didn’t mind it. 

“As long as you’re by my side, I think anything would do.”

He testingly laid a kiss on your forehead as he said it, and you felt like you would melt to the floor in a pile of goo. You removed a hand from his neck, resting it on his, and were delighted when he instantly intertwined your fingers. 

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, Ryu-”

“Lawliet,” He interjected. You tilt your head, confused, and L does his best not to swoon as you rest your head in his hand on your cheek. “My name is Lawliet.”

You break out into a blinding grin, and Lawiet knows then that smile was the sunlight he was meant to bask in. Those were the rays that would light his darkest nights. The beams that would guide him through the intricate maze of life. 

He had found all he needed. A friend who listens to his grief and grievances. One who cares enough to try and understand his mind and soothe it at the same time. Not for her own convenience, but for his betterment; never pushing the boundary of discomfort but bringing thrill to the change. He found a fresh pair of eyes, for when his get dull and tired, to show him the artistry outside of the ghastly monstrosities he and the world bathed in. A person brave enough to show up, even on the bad days. The whole world could fit in his palms when he held you like this. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Lawliet.” you corrected.

L smiled, squeezing your hands three times. You returned the sentiment with a kiss to the hand you held in your own. 

Tag List: @barbecuetiddy, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @purple-amaranthe, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @supernerdycookietrashblrr, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

I hope you enjoyed the read! Like I said, I don't think I'll do much writing for L, but I really enjoyed this. I hope even if you don't have as much love for this character as I do, you can still get something out of it :))

#rancid writes #death note #death note fanfiction #death note l #death note imagines #death note l lawliet #death note fluff #fluff #l lawliet #l death note #l x reader #l lawliet x reader #death note characters #friends to lovers

[moonie-moon-o7]

Toman Incorrect Quotes

Mikey: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like ‘look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I’m losing.’ You: Wow, you are not ready to hear about trees.

You: A mosquito tried to bite me and I slapped it and killed it. You: And I started thinking. You: Like, it was just trying to get food. You: What if I went to the fridge and it just slammed the door shut and snapped my neck? Draken: Are you ok?

You: What if Cinderella was a baking slave instead of a cleaning slave, and her name was Mozzarella? Draken: Don't ever speak to me again.

You: sSSSHIT- I BURNT MY LIP- Baji: ...Why the fuck would you even drink coffee with a METAL STRAW in the FIRST PLACE?? You: BECAUSE WE WERE OUT OF THE PLASTIC ONES!

You: My toxic trait is that I truly believe I could win a fight against anybody if I was mad enough. You might have the strength and size, but I have the pure, unfiltered rage.

You, cowering in fear: What do you want from me?! Mikey, standing in front of King: *bites into the whole KitKat bar like a heathen* You, crying: Please...stop...

You: Every zoo is a petting zoo unless you’re a coward. Mitsuya: I’m worried about you.

#moonie moon <3 #tokyo rev x reader #toman x reader #mitsuya x reader #mikey x reader #baji x reader #tokyo revengers #toman mikey

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

TAKE CARE OF YOU [5]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 5,464

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: i love this man, and i love every single person who has taken the time to let me know that they also love this man😌]

05: TO OUR EXES

"eye contact is a dangerous, dangerous thing. but lovely. oh, so lovely."

It was nerve wracking getting ready for your date which was mildly ironic since it technically wasn’t even a date. Joel was in essence paying you to be there. That thought process didn’t help much though because it instilled the fear of ‘what if he didn’t like what he was paying for’⏤ which was a terrifying thought that could send you into a spiral if you thought about it too long. 

For the millionth time, you adjusted your outfit before checking your hair once more in the mirror. Joel had texted you that he was on the way to your apartment. You had actually assumed that Riley would be driving you to meet Joel at the restaurant or perhaps to Joel’s home or work. The idea of Joel coming to pick you up himself was so adorably sincere in your mind.

The sound of knuckles rapping against your front door gave you pause. You glanced down at your phone to see that you didn’t have any missed messages from Joel. “Coming!” You called out while shoving your phone and wallet into the small purse that matched your dress. Heels clicking across your floor, you hurried to answer the door. “Hey⏤”

Your greeting fell silent halfway through it as you opened the door to see Joel looking as handsome as ever. It really wasn’t fair⏤ it looked effortless on his part. A gray sport coat with a navy blue button up shirt under the coat sans tie. Joel’s hair had a slightly messy look to it that seemed to be more accidental than planned. As if a long day of stress had undone a perfectly acceptable work style. His lips curled into a smile.

“Hey, sugar.” Joel greeted and it was nice to hear his voice in person again rather than through a telephone. He shifted to pull his hand out from behind his back to present you with a new bouquet of flowers just as gorgeous as the first.

Your eyes widened as you took the variety of wild flowers from him “Joel… These are gorgeous.”

“No, darlin’, you’re gorgeous.” Joel replied without hesitation. You looked up from the flowers to see Joel’s eyes tracing every inch of you. The clear admiration in his emotive brown eyes making your breath catch in your throat. He shook his head once, “Goddamn…”

You could feel your cheeks and the back of your neck warm at the compliment. Clutching the flowers to your chest, you cleared your throat. “It’s the dress. Thank you so much, Joel. I really love it.”

“The dress ain’t nothin’ without you, sugar. Don’t be silly.” Joel let out a small scoff.

“Here.” You motioned for him to come in. “Let me put these in water and we can be off.” While walking to the kitchen to find something that could be used as a vase, you heard Joel close the front door and step in. Your eyes glanced over your living space in mild embarrassment. Joel seemed to be looking around as well and you saw his eyes drift to a few photos you had hanging on your walls. “You really didn’t need to buy me more flowers, you know. I’m still in love with the ones from this morning. The sunflowers are so pretty.”

Joel drifted over, seeming entirely out of place in your tiny home, “Need? It’s about ‘want’, and I want to buy you everythin’.”

“Everything?” You chuckled. 

Joel titled his head just a bit, amusement flashing in his eyes, “Did I stutter, sugar?” You housed the flowers into a glass vase so you could set it next to the sunflowers and roses from this morning. Joel cleared his throat. “Are the flowers too much?” It was the first time since the start of this that you heard hesitance and doubt creep into his voice again. Joel rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s kind of cheesy⏤”

“First off, how dare you use the word ‘cheesy’ in a negative context.” You replied and Joel’s smile returned. “Second, I love the flowers. I really do. I… Nobody’s ever bought me bouquets like this before”

“That’s a damned shame.” Joel’s doubt seemed to slip away. “Never?”

“Well, I suppose not never. I’ve gotten apology flowers maybe but never ‘good morning’ flowers and ‘date night’ flowers.” As the words left your mouth, your eyes widened. Early today, you had decided not to refer to this as a date in front of Joel because you were unsure of what to correctly call it. Despite this plan, you managed to screw it up before even leaving your apartment. “Not that⏤ I mean, tonight isn’t⏤ or it⏤ Uh, I…”

Joel chuckled then held his arm out at the elbow for you. “Ready for our dinner date?”

You felt your face warm once more this time partially in relief from Joel’s subtle reassurance. “Very.” You nodded and looped your arm through his. “Let’s go.”

The two of you left the apartment, only pausing to lock your door, and Joel kept his arm through yours to help you cautiously down the stairs and out to the front of the building. The car on the curb you didn’t recognize was a dark maroon truck and it was the one Joel led you to. He opened the passenger door and held your hand to help you climb in. 

“Watch your feet.” Joel said before shutting the door. As he came around, you chuckled and clipped your seat belt. Joel must have noticed your amusement and he grinned. “What is it?”

“I like your truck. It’s not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” You teased. “I’m pretty sure guys with the kind of bank account you have are supposed to drive lamborghinis and mercedes.”

Joel laughed as he pulled away from the curb. “Those ain’t really my style, sugar.” It wasn’t necessarily true. You could picture Joel behind the wheel of a fancy car and God would he look good there, but the truck felt like him. It had the same 'down to earth' energy that Joel carried when he walked around in his flannels. “Growin’ up, I always wanted a truck like this.” He glanced over at you before his eyes shot back to the road. “It was the first thing I bought for myself after the company took off.”

You ran your hand against the worn leather of the middle console. The truck was well cared for, but obviously a bit aged. That was even cuter to you. Not only was he driving around in a vehicle you wouldn’t give a second glance on the road, but he wasn’t even driving the newest model despite being able to afford it plus more.

“So, tell me about your day.” You said. “Anything exciting happen?”

Joel let out a quiet scoff before casually walking you through some of the disasters he was forced to deal with. You knew very little, arguably nothing, about contracting or his job in particular. That being said, Joel had a nice way of telling stories. It wasn’t just his voice alone, which you had already established was addicting to listen to, but Joel was able to keep a person engaged and wanting more when he spun a tale. He wasn’t overly vocal from what you’ve gathered, but when he did speak the words he chose mattered.

“What about you?” Joel asked without glancing over. The truck was officially way out of your neighborhood and in a much richer area of the region. “That boutique okay?”

“Oh, it was amazing.” You replied and began to tell him all about Kiera. “Honestly, I was nervous to shop at a place like that, but she was incredible.” Joel hummed happily and you began to tell him how you also got lunch with Riley. “I basically had to arm wrestle him into letting me use your card to buy lunch for us because he didn't want to ‘impose’.”

Joel barked out a laugh. “It’s kind of frustratin’ when you wanna buy somethin’ for a person who fights you tooth and nail on it, huh?”

You bit down on your lower lip to keep from excessively grinning. “Shut up. That’s not the same.”

“Oh, it ain’t?”

“I wanted to buy Riley a sandwich, you wanted to buy me a car.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see a difference.” You playfully rolled your eyes and he had been glancing over just at the right time to see it. Joel’s hand reached over to lightly grasp your hand which was resting on the middle console. His warm touch made your breath hitch and you could feel calluses on his palm. Joel gave your hand a tight squeeze. He scolded you teasingly, “Good girls don’t roll their eyes, sugar.”

“I⏤ I, uh, I did warn you that you were gonna turn me into a spoiled brat.” Your voice had cracked at the beginning of the sentence and you were forced to clear your throat to stabilize it.

Joel glanced over again, and he gave your hand a softer squeeze this time. Sincerity replaced his teasing, “This alright? If you don’t want me⏤”

“No.” You tangled your fingers with him in fear that he was going to pull away. “This is fine.”

Joel chuckled and for the rest of the drive to the restaurant you found it hard to focus on anything other than the small circles that Joel’s thumb was tracing against the skin on the back of your hand. You weren’t familiar with the area outside the car window but you found yourself surrounded by skyscrapers. The building Joel pulled up to was well lit and the people traveling in and out of the lobby looked just as well dressed as the both of you.

He parked the truck in the valet lane then squeezed your hand to draw your attention to him. “Stay right there, sugar.” You gave him a nod and watched as he climbed out and walked around the truck’s front. He tossed the keys to the valet with a quick thanks. The valet must have said something you didn’t catch because Joel chuckled and nodded. You shifted in your seat, realizing why he asked you to stay put, and waited for Joel to reach your door. Joel pulled it open, held a hand out, and offered a charming smile. “Ma’am.”

“Sir.” You replied with a grin and took his hand so he could help you climb out of his truck. Joel took your hand and looped it around his elbow. You felt your cheeks warm at the motion. Though you had known he was taking you out in public, a part of you thought he wouldn’t want to be seen with you though. It’s not like you were his dirty secret, the two of you weren’t part of some scandal or affair, but it still felt like something you were supposed to hide. You shoved the doubt out of your mind and let your eyes glance around the lavish lobby. “This place is gorgeous. Where are we?”

“This is the J Hotel.” Joel replied. You briefly stiffened. A hotel? Obviously, this was a hotel. You should’ve noticed from the curb. Was he going to take you to a room? A trickle of concern crawled down your spine. Joel seemed to notice because he set his free hand on top of the one you had holding onto his arm. “Hey. It’s alright. There’s a restaurant on the rooftop. That’s where we’re heading, darlin’.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding and shot him an apologetic smile. “Of course. Of course, we are. I’m so sorry.” He had been nothing but a gentleman, above and beyond really, and your mind had immediately assumed the worst of him. “I wasn’t⏤ I don’t think you’re that kind of guy I just⏤”

“No need for apologies.” Joel chuckled. “I’d be more worried if you weren’t wary of me. I’m a strange old guy payin’ you to hang out around me.”

You tightened your grip on his arm as the two of you stepped into the elevator. “Not strange. I’d use the words ‘kind’ or ‘charming’ or ‘handsome’ even.”

Joel let out a soft laugh as he hit the button for the sixty-seventh floor. The ride up only took a moment and when the floor opened up you commended Joel for his choice in location. The rooftop restaurant was gorgeous. String lights hung overhead and the seating area was filled with an almost garden-like energy. The maitre d’ spotted the two of you and hurried over to offer a greeting. It was very different compared to the side eye the maitre d’ from the restaurant where you and Nima had met Roaslind. You were led over to a table and you were excited to see it was near enough to the side of the roof that you’d have a clear view of the LA skyline without having to peer around another table.

Joel slid his arm out from yours to pull out your chair. The flowers, opening your car door, pulling out your chair⏤ it was all very little things, but you found yourself enjoying it immensely. Joel sat down across from you and you gave your waiter a double take when you realized he had only offered one menu for the table and he had placed it in Joel’s hands.

“Um…” You began.

“Don’t worry.” Joel replied. “We only need one. This place makes four new dishes a day. I can read you those four options.”

You crossed your arms to lean on the table, amused, “And why can’t I read my own menu?”

“Because,” Joel scanned the menu once more before meeting your gaze, “I know you’ll end up pickin’ your meal based on the price tag rather than get what you actually want.” 

Your eyes widened in slight surprise. He wasn’t wrong, but it caught you off guard that he had thought of it. Joel quickly walked you through the options and you picked a meal that sounded most appealing to you. When the waiter came back, he took the order and offered a few wine choices. Joel nodded to you to decide and you agreed to whatever the waiter thought would work best with your meals.

“You know,” You laced your fingers together with a small smile, “I’m surprised.”

“By?”

“Most rich people can’t fathom the lifestyle of someone in my tax bracket.” You replied with a small shrug. “Because you were right. I would’ve probably picked based on the price, without even realizing it.”

Joel chuckled, “I wasn’t always rich, sugar.” You knew he hadn’t always been a multi-millionaire, but you assumed he jumped from upper class to that level. “Back in college, and a little while after, I was broke.” He offered you a small understanding nod. “I’ve had those days where you go out for dinner with friends and you pick the cheapest thing on the menu ‘cause you can’t afford nothin’ else.” Your gaze softened at his words, and he chuckled. “Then you’re too proud to accept help from any of your friends so you spend the entire night tryin’ to convince them that corn nuggets were your actual favorite food and that’s why you ordered ‘em.”

You laughed at how relatable his words were. Not too long ago, right before Joel offered you this proposition, you had literally sat in a restaurant with Nima and refused to let her buy you food⏤ claiming you ordered the side salad because you weren’t very hungry rather than admitting you were forced to use your full paycheck for rent and bills which left you nothing for spending. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It was a fair assumption.” Joel conceded. “Most people who make it to my current tax bracket,” He copied your phrasing, “Started pretty near the top to begin with.”

The waiter returned to pour you both a glass of wine and you and Joel both thanked him. You took a sip and savored the flavor. This was absolutely not the boxed wine you had sitting in your fridge currently. A soft groan of approval slipped your lips.

“Good?” Joel asked.

“Much better than the wine I just bought from Target.” You nodded. Joel laughed and you motioned around the restaurant. “This place is amazing by the way. Do you come here often?”

Joel shook his head. “No. This is my first time.”

“Oh. Why’d you pick it then?” You asked curiously. 

“Well,” Joel cleared his throat then offered you a sheepish smile, “I didn’t. I asked my assistant to plan this out.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just been a while since I did anythin’ date related… If it had been up to me I would’ve taken you to a diner a few blocks down from my office. Best burger in LA, I swear it.”

You resisted the urge to tell him that you would’ve been happy with any place he chose as long as it gave you time to spend with him. That seemed to potentially cross a line from ‘fake date with a sugar daddy’ and into ‘real date with a man you’re crushing on’. A distinction you were making a real effort to focus on. However, you were unable to resist asking the question that had plagued you all day.

“How is it you haven’t done anything date related in a while?” You asked. “How are you even single?”

“You know…” Joel grunted out a vague response and shrugged.

You chuckled, “No, actually I don’t. I find it very hard to believe that a guy like you couldn’t have any woman he wanted, yet here you are. With me.”

“With you is exactly where I wanna be.” Joel replied confidently. You rolled your eyes with a small chuckle. He held his wine glass in his hand, but lifted a finger from it to point at you. “There you go rollin’ those pretty eyes again. You’re askin’ for trouble.”

“No. You know what I’m asking.” You countered.

Joel let out a small sigh and nodded. “I was with a woman a year ago. It didn’t end well.” You took a sip of your own wine but continued to lean on the table listening intently. “It was just a messy relationship. We weren’t… compatible, but we stayed together longer than we should’ve. She didn’t like that I was too cold, and I didn’t like that she was sleepin’ with other guys.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence alone. “God, I’m so sorry, Joel.” It was baffling that anybody wouldn’t appreciate what they had with Joel. And cold? You’ve known not even a full month, but if someone asked you to describe Joel the last word you’d use was ‘cold’. “She thought you were cold?”

“She said I wasn’t affectionate enough.” Joel replied in an off handed manner. The way someone would respond to a question they didn’t want to elaborate on. Still, you had a hard time believing Joel was not affectionate with his significant other. Hell he had been more affectionate toward you this last week than your ex-boyfriend had been the last few months of your relationship. You wondered if his old girlfriend hadn’t understood his affection. You were getting the feeling that Joel’s love language was ‘Acts of Service’. To someone who didn’t respond to that then they could potentially make that complaint. “It was a long time ago.”

You twisted your lips, “You haven’t met anyone since then that you were interested in?”

Joel held your gaze for a beat before he glanced at his wine glass and took a sip. He shook his head and met your gaze once more with a small smile. “It just wasn’t a priority.” He chuckled. “Then I got lovingly bullied into the sugar baby idea.” There was obviously a story there that you were curious about, but Joel changed the subject so you were the topic of conversation. “Don’t feel obligated to answer ‘cause I talked about my love life, or lack thereof, but… what about you?”

“Me?” You motioned to yourself.

“Yeah.” Joel grinned. “You’re a catch, sugar. Smart, witty, fun, drop dead gorgeous,” You felt your cheeks warm at his words and you hid your smile behind your wine glass as you took a sip, “How’re you single?”

This wasn’t something you enjoyed talking about, but if Joel could share a bit of his painful past then you could as well. You licked your lips, “I wasn’t single six months ago.” Joel’s eyebrows rose. “I was dating a guy and we were pretty serious.”

“How long did the two of you date?”

“Two years.” You admitted with a slight wince, and Joel looked even more surprised. “The topic of marriage actually came up, but…” You cleared your throat. “He told me I wasn’t marriage material.”

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry, what?” You shrugged in response, not knowing what else to say. He scoffed with a shake of his head. “No offense, darlin’, but your ex is an absolute moron who didn’t know what he had.”

“It’s funny you say that.” You teased. “I was just thinking that about your ex.”

Joel’s lips curled up into an amused smirk. He lifted his wine glass toward you, “To our exes then. Without their mistakes we wouldn’t be here tonight.”

“To our exes.” You laughed and clinked your glass against his.

The rest of dinner consisted of conversation topics that weren’t quite as heavy as the history of your love lives. Just like with your phone calls with Joel, talking to him was the easiest thing in the world. Any moment of silence that did occur between the two of you was comfortable rather than awkward, and you never felt pressured to fill the space with words just for the sake of it.

When the waiter came to the table with the check there was no question of who it was going to. He handed it over to Joel who thanked him then pulled out his card to hand back. You finished the last of your current glass of wine.

“Seriously though,” You spoke up, “Thank you so much. This meal was amazing.”

“My pleasure, sugar.” Joel chuckled. “Glad you enjoyed it.” The waiter returned with his card and you watched Joel write on the receipt before rising up. He held a hand out to you to help you out of your seat and you beamed as he pulled your arm through his arm once more. “Night ain’t over yet though.”

Your smile widened as you let him lead you out of the restaurant. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Joel replied as you both settled in the elevator. You hit the button for the lobby before he could. He reached into his coat’s internal pocket to pull out two tickets. “Some show in the LA County Museum of Art.” 

He offered you the tickets for you to see what it was for. You recognized the name of the show because Nima had just been talking to you about this only a few days prior. Joel paused with you by the side of the road as the two of you waited for the valet to bring his truck around. 

“Do you know much about this show?” You asked in curiosity. If the few things you did know about him were correct you had a feeling that the same person who picked out this restaurant also chose this show.

“No. It’s some kind of art show, ain’t it?”

“Yes.” You chuckled. “But it’s a sensory experience.” Joel shot you a confused look and you grinned in response. “So… the area is dark and the only light is on the floor to light a path and the art pieces itself, and you’re not allowed to talk. It’s a silent showing.” 

You saw immediate distaste on Joel’s face as he took the tickets from you to scan them. Another laugh bubbled from your lips when you heard Joel mutter a curse under his breath. He blew out a sigh as his truck rolled around. “We don’t gotta do this, sugar, but I don’t really have anything else planned…”

The idea of calling this the end of your night already sat bitter on your tongue. Joel caught the keys thrown to him before opening the passenger seat door to help you climb in. As he walked around the truck, you pulled out your phone to search an address for a possible idea.

“I have an idea.” You blurted when Joel climbed in. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Drive here.”

He glanced at the GPS on your phone, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m not that big on surprises.” Joel countered skeptically.

“And I’m not good at letting people buy me things.” You smirked. “We’re both experiencing new things today.” Joel bit back a chuckle, but he still gave you a wary look. You leaned across the console with the brightest smile you could muster. “Please, daddy.”

Joel’s lips curled up into a smile and he shook his head with a laugh under his breath. He turned and put the car into drive to start following the GPS. You beamed at him and it felt empowering to know you were able to so easily sway him into agreeing to a surprise. Joel reached out again to lace his hand with yours. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute, sugar.”

“Here. If it makes you more comfortable,” You said, “When we get there I’ll let you pay for us to go in.”

“Oh, you’ll let me pay.” Joel laughed and squeezed your hand.

“Only because I’m feeling charitable today.”

Joel shook his head with an amused scoff.

The surprise you had thought of wasn’t far and you clocked the exact moment that Joel realized where your GPS was taking him. He glanced over at you before looking back to the road with a voice of shock. “Putt putt golf? Really?” Joel pulled into a parking spot and turned to stare at you in disbelief. “This is what you wanna do for the rest of the night?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded. “What’s wrong, daddy?” The choice to use the nickname again was the correct one when you saw him stiffen in his seat. “Afraid I’m gonna kick your ass?”

Joel’s jaw locked and he snatched his keys from the ignition before climbing out of the truck. Knowing what he’d prefer, you stayed put until he came around to open your door. When he yanked it open you shot him a smug smile. Joel nodded once and held his hand out to you. “Don’t think I’m gonna take it easy on you.”

“I’d be upset if you did.” You replied as your feet landed on the ground and you stood right in front of him. 

The two of you walked in through the front and you picked out a club while Joel paid for the course for you both. When asked if he wanted to do the 9 or 18 hole course he picked the longer one without even asking, and you smiled to yourself. You liked that he enjoyed his time with you as much as you did with him. He picked his own club and you grabbed a dark green ball for Joel and a light blue one for you. 

“We need to make a deal.” You said while you both wandered out toward the first hole. The place wasn’t very crowded which meant you wouldn’t feel rushed. 

“I think we already made a deal, last I checked.” Joel replied and motioned between the two of you.

“Funny.” You bumped your hip into him. “I meant for the game. Like... loser pays for post-game ice cream.”

Joel shook his head, “I’m not gonna let you pay for ice cream.”

“Okay, real bold of you to assume I’m gonna lose.” You laughed and Joel just shot you a confident smirk that fit his handsome features well. You stayed firm. “We need incentive.”

“Fine. How’s this? If you win, then I pay for ice cream.” He started. You followed his statement and narrowed your eyes at his wording. Joel continued. “But, if I win, then I pay for ice cream and I get to buy you an exorbitant and unnecessary gift.”

Your jaw fell open. “What?”

“What?”

“That’s kind of ridiculous.”

Joel looked smug as you both reached the first hole. “Just win and you won’t have to worry about it.” He dropped his ball down on the green, lined up his shot, and then hit. You watched the green ball roll down the first, simple path and drop into the hole. He turned in place to address your shock. “Or, you can think of suggestions to give me of what you might want.” Joel leaned in toward you just a bit and in a teasing tone added. “I’m thinkin' maybe a small country. Are you partial to Europe or Asia, sugar?”

“You can’t afford a country.” You scoffed. Joel shrugged and pulled back so you could take your turn, but your eyes widened. “Joel, can you afford a small country?” He walked down the course to fetch his ball. “Joel??”

The putt putt course brought out Joel’s competitive side and you loved it. It seemed like years of stress had been lifted off his shoulders as he let loose with you. As you both reached the end of the 18 holes he was in the lead by only a few strokes.

“You’ve technically already lost, sugar.” Joel chuckled as he waited for you to finish the last hole.

“Hush.” You replied.

Joel laughed then motioned toward you. “Look, you make a hole in one here and you win the entire thing.”

“Wait, really?” You perked up in excitement. Joel nodded. You readjusted your golf ball at the start and focused on lining up your shot. Joel continued to tease you while you tried to focus. You shot him a playful glare. “Excuse you, sir. Quiet on the course.”

Joel bowed his head in a mocking gesture and you went back to focusing on your turn. After lining it up, you swung. The ball bounced off the wall and made a beeline toward the hole. You began to bounce in excitement but the light blue ball rimmed around the hole and then sat on the edge without falling in.

“Are you shitting me!?” You cried in alarm. Joel laughed as you hurried over to where your ball sat. You pointed to it and looked at Joel. “Oh, come on. Come on!”

Joel stepped onto the course and kicked your ball in. He reached out to lightly tap the side of his knuckles under your chin making you warm. Joel let out a soft sigh and offered you a comforting smile. “Hey, it’s alright, sugar.” He leaned in. “I won’t buy you a country. I’ll just pick out some gaudy piece of jewelry.”

Your jaw fell again and he laughed. You gave him a playful shove, “I thought you were gonna give me the win!”

“Absolutely not.” Joel replied and took the club from your hand so you didn’t have to carry it. His hand settled on your lower back while gently leading you back towards the putt putt golf house. “I told you I wasn’t gonna take it easy on you.”

“What if I ask really nicely?”

“Aw, sugar, you can try.” Joel set both your clubs on the counter. 

His hand never left your back as he led you back out toward the truck. You turned and resisted the urge to rest your hands on his chest. Instead, you stepped closer and just tilted your head up to face him, and with a sickly sweet voice you tried again, “Please can we call this my win, daddy?”

Joel’s gaze softened as he stared at you and he nodded once. “Still no. Come on, let’s get ice cream.”

“Hey!” You cried as he grasped your hand and continued to drag you to his truck. You laughed and tugged on his arm. “If you were just gonna turn me down again then why’d you even give me the chance to ask nice?”

“It might’ve worked. You never know.” Joel glanced your way once more. “And maybe I just wanted an excuse to hear you call me ‘daddy’ again.” You felt your face grow warm at his comment and there was no hiding the way it made your smile grow. Joel ran his thumb against the back of your hand and chuckled. “So? Ice cream? I’m buyin’.”

You counted your blessings and sent another silent thanks to your exes.

taglist (closed):

@weddingfairy @bfences @fairntonorth @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @rinnfey @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia @sapphicsoie @spidey-3 @camiali25 @hrtsforpascal @gingersince97 @sentients17 @bigboiseason123 @lunxramour @ktheunready @heyheyheygaypay @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @adoringanakin @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @cherriebat @whitewolfstar01 @alyssa121611-blog @asreadbyajj @painfullyandprettypoetic @cantobightcafe @hellooseulgi @str84pedro

[previous][next]

✨J.M. Masterlist✨

#the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller

[bunnakit]

last twilight episode 6 thoughts, feelings, etc.

it's that time again and i've decided to be very extra for this episode because, well, it deserves it. what a ride that was. fair warning i was feeling fucking romantic and wistful for this.

we have August showing up, trying to integrate himself into their daily routine, and then disrupting that routine entirely. and when he suggests running with Day Mhok seems defensive, jealous and probably concerned that August has seemed unreliable before - and currently is operating with more information than Day, leaving them on unequal footing. August knows about Day's feelings for him, but Day has no idea August knows, and that's not really fair. but Mhok doesn't want to say anything because maybe, just maybe, August could make Day happy. maybe Day could finally get what he wants for the first time in a long while.

so Mhok watches. because Mhok will never put himself first, it's not who he is.

Day clings to these broken and battered shoes, a connection to a past life he thought he had to leave behind. he clings to familiarity and comfort. all things Mhok has become to him.

and so maybe Mhok sees himself in these battered, rough around the edges shoes. maybe Mhok believes he can be fixed, just like the splitting sole. maybe Day is fixing him every day, not in a stupid fucking 'he saved me' bullshit like the crying guy at the interview, but in a genuine, he's changed my outlook on life, my perspective, my everything, and made me a better person. maybe these scuffed shoes can be better if someone helps them.

and so he fixes the shoes, just as he's been fixing himself ever since he walked through Day's front door, and he gives Day the sunflower he couldn't give him before. Day asks him what it is but again Mhok doesn't have the heart to say. he doesn't elaborate, doesn't explain, only moves past the moment because this isn't for him, isn't about him, this is about Day reclaiming something he thought he lost.

How can I throw them away? I love them so much.

Maybe if he loves these broken and scuffed shoes he could love me too.

and here's where we have a story narrating for us again, my absolute favorite thing about this entire series. i love the narration from the books they read - and i love that the boys are both simultaneously the character represented. the words always have a way of applying to both of them and it's fucking gorgeous.

and with this narration we've been so seamlessly slotted into Mhok's POV. everything up until now has focused pretty strongly on Day's struggles and adjustments, we've seen everything from the lens of Day and what he's facing, but suddenly we're so perfectly slotted into Mhok's body, something we haven't focused too hard on yet. sure, we've seen his pain and his grief, but we're seeing so much more now, so many little intricacies and inner thoughts. i absolutely love how this was done.

Do you think I fell in love with him without realizing it?

and as he has this love blooming in his chest, this realization of the magnitude of his feelings - that he doesn't just want Day to be happy but wants to be the source of that happiness - Mhok begins to become invisible again. it's a place he's familiar with and it doesn't come as a surprise. just with a mournful resignation. this is how it always is, and how it was always going to be.

and just like with Porjai he decides to step back. it's worth it as long as the people he loves are happy; even if that means he's not by their side.

like the scuffed shoes, Mhok is replaced with something better. Day put in his eye drops and no longer looks to Mhok but to August instead.

and as Mee and Day's fear grows smaller Mhok's grows larger. the fear of being left behind and the fear of being forgotten. the fear that Day no longer needs him, will no longer look to him for help or seek him out. the fear that he's lost his place as Day's friend, slid back into the role of only a caretaker, and perhaps even further back still into a stranger.

Mhok's shirt reads: IF LOST, DROP IN ANY MAILBOX. Return Postage Guaranteed.

because Mhok is lost. he doesn't know where he stands anymore, where he fits into Day's life. but he knows he'll always return to Day's side for as long as he needs him.

the scuffed shoes are left on the shelf, just as Mhok has tucked away his feelings for Day. they'll always be there, familiar and reliable, and maybe someday Day will need them again. maybe someday.

and then we learn that Night smokes, and maybe Day never hated the smell of cigarettes.

I think his voice is like the scent of cigarettes.

maybe Day just hated the way the smell reminded him of Night.

and we learn Day had fully resigned himself to spending his birthday alone.

his mother would be out of town, spending it with Night is out of the question, August has practice, and it's Mhok's day off. as if Mhok would rather be anywhere else. Day is used to not being a priority.

as Day peers at Mhok's chest maybe it feels like he can see into him. Mhok has always felt invisible, but somehow Day saw him in spite of all of that. maybe he wonders if Day can see into his chest, see that his heart is made of sunflowers, tucked away and kept in secret as to not inconvenience Day. and maybe Mhok wonders: can you see them? can you see the way they bloom and turn towards your light?

and for a moment Mhok is weak. he takes Day's hand and places it back on his chest as if to say: my heart is here and it belongs to you, can't you feel it?

and here is where i will begin to cry and not stop crying until the end of the episode - so if you're crying don't worry, i'm here with you.

because Day sprays Mhok with Tiwa cologne. fucking Tiwa cologne.

Tiwa means day time. the cologne was created to mimic the atmosphere of the Thai countryside during the day.

suddenly, Mhok is bathed in the scent of Day. both the concept and the man.

it's Day's favorite scent.

It smells both like toughness and aggression.

At first, you want to flee from it.

But after you scent it for a while, it makes you feel warm.

and Mhok's face falls at first because is that how Day sees him? he thought Day saw him, he thought Day understood that he's not all the things people say he is and - oh.

oh.

you can see the palpable relief across Mhok's face because Day does see him, does understand him.

(the cologne also shows us once again Day's privilege. Tiwa costs $140 a bottle, or ฿‎4884)

again Day asks what Mhok is going to this dinner as, and then asks why Mhok is so secretive.

and maybe for a moment, for just those fleeting few minutes they spent getting ready together, Mhok was able to pretend this was real. he was able to pretend Day was going to dinner with him, would stay by his side and enjoy his birthday with him, create new memories with him.

but that's not for him. it's just another sunflower he tucks away in his chest.

they arrive at the party and there's no place for Mhok; not at Day's side, not at the table, not anywhere. he's never acknowledged again by anyone there, no one offers him a spot because he's an outsider, this place isn't for him. when the sun no longer shines on Mhok he is invisible once again.

suddenly, Mhok is back in his own fish tank - because it's not only Little Day that freed himself of the cloying miasma of his environment but Big Mhok had as well. his tank was clean, he could breathe and see clearly again.

but now he's back there, as smoke fills his lungs and regret tastes like ash on his tongue. he can't smell the jasmine blooms anymore.

Day still looks for him, still seeks him out because Mhok has always stayed, has always been around even when Day didn't know he needed him. Mhok's been there at every step of this journey and now suddenly Day is adrift on his own. what do you do when the person that has always been there is suddenly gone?

it probably feels as if Day has been robbed of yet another one of his senses.

and we see Day get overwhelmed again, the narrative has shifted away from Mhok now and we're nestled back in Day's body where things are so loud and so much, too much, and he doesn't have the one person he can find comfort in there. everyone is trying too hard, treating him like glass, and he's still a fucking human being, he's still an adult man, he's not a fucking child -

and so he escapes. he finds a moment of peace and collects himself. he hears someone approach and who else could it be but Mhok? it's always Mhok, it's always been Mhok.

but Mhok's not here.

August is.

and suddenly August is kissing him but it's not right, it doesn't feel like he thought it would, and maybe he realizes he liked the idea of August more than August himself. maybe he clung to memories made fond and soft with time.

because this? this is not the kiss of a man full of hope and love. if Bad Buddy taught me anything, this is a kiss goodbye.

the hero is coming and it's time for the villain to go.

Mhok knows better than anyone that the one thing Day doesn't want from anyone, the one thing he fears the most in all of this, is receiving pity. he's never wanted to be pitied for any of this, but August has just pitied him in the worst possible way. and of course Mhok is here to see it.

of course Mhok would come back, now of all times.

and we see Mhok speak in a way we haven't before. his rage becomes incandescent, beyond the limits of just shouting, and it's the quiet of his rage that becomes far more terrifying. it's the quiet calm before the storm. Day has never seen Mhok enraged, not really, he's never been there when Mhok has hit someone, but he must hear the control slipping from Mhok's voice.

because August held everything Mhok had ever wanted in his hands and played with it, pitied it, and tossed it away. how can he be anything but full of bitter fury?

but as Day holds Mhok's hand he stops. he reluctantly releases his hold and curls his fingers around Day's hand. he'd do anything for Day, now more than ever.

Mhok speaks softly to Day and holds him close, the hug as much for Day as it is for him. they're both broken, both trying to hold on to the withered petals of their hearts. if they hold on tight enough maybe they can hold each other together.

and now we're to my absolute favorite recurring thing Mhok does.

Mhok takes Day away, he doesn't let him retreat into that tiny fish tank. Mhok brings Day out into the world, to breathe the fresh air.

and each time he's brought Day somewhere he can enjoy without his sight - yes, even this rooftop.

on the porch, Day could smell the jasmine blossoms.

Day could smell the flowers at the market, was surrounded by their scent.

now he's bathed in the light of the rising sun, in the warmth it has to offer.

the world feels different in the early hours of the morning. the air is a little colder, a little thinner, everything is more quiet and subdued. you can feel the sun start to thaw out the Earth, can feel as it glides over your face and warms your cheeks.

this place is special to Mhok, a small sanctuary he's tucked away for himself, and now he's sharing it - and a shard of his past - with Day. in exchange, Day opens up. he explains that no one really liked him before, that each person (Gee not withstanding) at that party pitied him and were only there as some sort of act of charity.

I'm just so damn lucky to be blind.

because people are looking at him now, right? he has everyone's attention now. he got to kiss his crush. people would fall at his feet to help him.

but it's all wrong, tainted with pity and charity. he has their pity but not their affection.

Is there anyone else in this world who doesn't feel pity for me?

Do you still think I feel pity for you? Mhok asks after kissing Day in the light of the rising sun, because Mhok has never pitied Day, not for a single moment in time. it's not pity that he feels housed in his chest but love, overwhelming and all consuming.

just as the moon represented the hearts of Moonlight Chicken so does the sun represent the hearts of Last Twilight. this is the dawn of something new for both of them, fragile but hopeful.

I'M JUST FEELING SO FUCKING MUCH. do you think p'aof will be my best friend? if you've read this far i'm smooching you and also here's a dumb little surprise.

tag loves: @benkaaoi @callipigio @lookwhatihave

#bunn meta #ltts meta #last twilight #last twilight the series #mhokday #this took me 3 hours to put together #what am i doing with my life

[pastanest]

post-prison Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

WARNING: references to an abusive relationship but no graphic descriptions

If You Ask

For the months that Doctor Spencer Reid spent in prison, his guiding light was the thought of you. It was a form of enlightenment, he concluded, that regardless of how dark his days and his mind got, surrounded by grey walls and people that truly hated him, one thought of you was the only anaesthetic he needed to help him sleep.

He understood the psychology of dreams, but it took him some time to admit to himself what exactly his subconscious was trying to tell him when each and every night, he dreamt of seeing you walk into the office and greeting him with a smile, or sitting beside you on the jet, or standing beside you at the coffee machine. Spencer’s favourite dreams were memories stored in his subconscious of the kindest things you’d said to him. He would often wake up in his cell with tears on his face because the anguish of coming to terms with the same reality of not being able to see you was simply too much to bare.

The grey that surrounded him had been the worst thing to face every morning, because you filled his life with so much colour from the moment you met him.

Two days after Spencer’s 25th birthday, you had sped into the office particularly early, in quite the rush. Spencer had to do a double take when he saw you, not only because you were running at him, but also because you were wearing some brown corduroy dungarees with sunflowers embroidered on them and a white t-shirt underneath, a bright smile on your face despite the fact you had never seen Spencer before.

“Good morning!” You had said, breathless.

Spencer couldn’t withhold the smile that you brought to his face. “Good morning, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid…who are you?” He asked, trying to speak as gently as possible because he honestly feared the slightest harsh tone would dampen the sunshine you brought.

“Hello Doctor Reid! I’m (Y/N), I’m starting today but, uh, I hoped I’d be here before everybody else, just to get my bearings- not that it’s a bad thing that you’re here, of course! Sorry, it’s really nice to meet you!” You rambled sweetly, before holding your hand out to him.

Spencer gave you his usual nervous smile and wave. “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering, it’s actually safer to kiss.” He recited, but as the weight of his words dawned him, his cheeks flushed pink, having not thought about how much he would like the sound of the latter.

He expected an awkward reaction from you, as that was what he usually received, but instead, you giggled as you retracted your hand to dig through your handbag and retrieve some hand sanitiser. Once you had rubbed the cleansing fluid into your hands as thoroughly as you could, you smiled at Spencer, not a trace of sarcasm or malice in your eyes.

“Does that make you more comfortable with shaking my hand, rather than kissing me? We have only just met, after all. If you still feel like kissing me when you actually know me, all you’ve got to do is ask.” You grinned at him, holding your hand out to him again, and with a bright smile, Spencer shook it. 

The team had spent years teasing Spencer about how obvious his feelings for you were, forever telling him that he should just ask you out, as though that was a casual request and not a terrifying, life-altering question. He had never felt more confronted by his own feelings than he did when he was stuck in a cell and could only focus on what he would say to you when he did get out. 

He thought about all the times you had complimented him so obviously and how he wished he had swept you off your feet in a kiss each and every time; how you had asked him every time you wanted to hug him whether he would be comfortable with it and how he should have just told you that you were always the exception to his usual discomfort towards physical contact; how you never failed to laugh at his jokes or back him up when the team tried to tease him for the things he knew that you only ever found to be fascinating. Spencer knew that he had always appreciated you, he had never pushed you away or been cruel to you, he had simply been too scared to ever progress your relationship in the way he had desperately wanted to.

Unfortunately, when Spencer did get out of prison, he immediately made a horrifying discovery. Spencer’s profiling instincts were screaming at him from the moment he returned to the office, seeing you in darker, longer clothes, instead of your usual bright and colourful ones that he was forever complimenting you on. To the man that knew you better than anyone, the bags under your eyes were only one of many signs that you were exhausted, emotionally and physically, and that something was very, very wrong.

He stood at the office entrance for a while, watching as you seemingly instinctively brought a coffee to his desk, which was absolutely covered in sticky notes. The top, sides and back, from what he could see, every square inch was covered, save for the space that you seemed to save to set his coffee down, despite not knowing the exact date he was due to be released; you always made him one, just in case. He watched as you wrote on a new sticky note and found a place on his desk to attach it, then disappeared to the staff bathroom with tears in your eyes.

Of course, you had still been overjoyed to see him standing at his desk and drinking the coffee you had made him, reading the dated sticky notes you had written him, telling him everyday that you were thinking of him, missing him, wishing he was here, sometimes referencing specific memories or inside-jokes between you that you had thought of that day. It was the most beautiful gesture he had ever seen. You had run into his arms, and the two of you had cried into each other with nothing to say, too overwhelmed by the simple feeling of being back together, but there was something in the way, an invisible barrier in front of you that had not been there before. 

Once he had calmed you down and wiped the last of your tears, Spencer met with Emily Prentiss in her office, a stern frown etched into his features.

“What happened?” He had asked bluntly, needing to know whether it was something that had happened on a case or something outside of work so that he could formulate a plan to lift that invisible barrier and remind you that he was here, he was back, for you above anything else.

Emily had sighed. “She’s been...lost. Since the day you left, she hasn’t been herself, but when she started seeing this guy, things got so much worse.”

That sentence alone was enough to shatter Spencer’s heart, but when Emily went into grave detail about the number of times you’d found a quiet place to cry while on cases or in the office, the way you had retreated into yourself and would no longer sit with anyone on the jet, just staring out of the window until you were back on the ground - Spencer felt every fragment of his heart sink lower than he thought possible. 

That evening, there was a knock at your front door. You rubbed your puffy eyes and wiped your tears as you opened the door, immediately appearing like a deer in headlights because Spencer Reid was on your doorstep. Images of him through the years you’ve known him with different haircuts and expressions, standing on that very doorstep, flashed in your mind, before you could settle on the present version of him standing there. The look on his face and the way your eyes darted down both sides of the street before you spoke to him, communicated very clearly to both of you that this was not to be like any night you’d spent watching movies together, cuddled up on your couch.

“Is he here?” Spencer asked bluntly. 

You blinked rapidly, though you shouldn’t have been surprised that he already knew. “N-No.”

He had never heard you speak to him so timidly. It was more painful than every injury he sustained in prison.

“Is he going to be?” Spencer rephrased his question, and as soon as you nodded, Spencer gestured inside your home. “May I come in?”

Despite the fear that was clearly eating away at you, you trailed into your home and Spencer followed, closing and locking your front door before following you into your living room, where you had cowered in a corner of the very couch that was once a comforting place for the two of you to wordlessly express your love for each other in the sweetest and most innocent affections.

Spencer grabbed a chair and slowly moved it to sit in front of you, not wanting to startle you in your fragile state. Your hands were bundled up in the long sleeves of your sweater, which swallowed most of you. Spencer held your gaze, a sincerity in his eyes that was so familiar to you, you didn’t have the strength to avoid it.

“If you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to, just give me one answer- and you don’t even have to say it, you can nod, shake your head, whatever is most comfortable for you, is that alright?” Spencer was speaking as gently as he could, wanting to remind you that you were always, always safe with him.

Clinging to his every word, you nodded, and Spencer reciprocated.

“Do you want me to make sure he doesn’t come back?” 

The question was a weighted one and unclear in its exact implications, but as you stared into Spencer’s eyes, you knew he meant every syllable more than he had ever meant anything in his life. 

As you lifted your head to nod, there was a sound of your front door unlocking, and you froze. Tears stung your eyes as you frantically glanced from Spencer to the living room doorway and, having lost the ability to answer in the way you had intended, you rolled your long sleeve up to show Spencer the deep purple, fingerprint shaped bruises that gripped your forearm. 

Spencer gave you one, final nod, before he stood up in front of you and turned to the doorway. Your human shield.

Seconds later, some poor excuse for a man strolled into your living room, his own key dangling from his hands. His beady eyes locked onto you, then slowly travelled up the tall form that stood between you and him, a very visible barrier. 

“The hell’s this?” There was an edge to the creature’s voice as he spoke to you and Spencer immediately decided he would wipe this man off of the face of the earth for speaking to you like that. 

Though Spencer couldn’t see you, he could all but feel the way you trembled behind him, too afraid to answer. 

With his hands in his pockets, his steely gaze forced the creature to avoid his eyes. “Doctor Spencer Reid. Who are you?”

The sleaze scoffed, trying to peek around Spencer to look at you, but Spencer adjusted his stance to block him out again. If there had ever been someone undeserving of the privilege of looking at you, it was the only other man in your living room.

“This is Spencer?” He laughed. “Nowhere near as impressive as you made him out to be, (Y/N)!”

Spencer tilted his head to the side, deducing everything he could from the specimen before him. “Do you truly believe that everyone you meet exists solely to impress you, or is your inflated ego damaging your understanding of other people and the lives they lead that will never have anything to do with you?”

Finally, the creature seemed to address Spencer directly. “What did you say to me?”

Spencer stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest. “My apologies, allow me to rephrase my findings in a way that a brain as underdeveloped as yours can comprehend: The majority of the people on this planet don’t know or care about you, or any of your opinions; the fact that you assume I do is very telling of the kind of person you are, along with your inability to look me in the eye making it incredibly obvious that the aforementioned ego entirely rests on tearing down those around you. Had you kept that problematic behaviour under wraps, perhaps you’d be lucky enough not to cross paths with me, but you just couldn’t resist harming the only person that makes the pain of being a good person, worth it to me. Now, I have no motivation to pity you or divulge the empathy that she inspires in me, so what happens next is entirely your own doing.” 

Not giving the idiot any time to respond, Spencer lifted his phone to his ear. “Garcia? Yeah, we were right, go ahead.” With that, he hung up and slipped his phone back in his pocket, frowning at the creature once again. “If it’s any consolation to your ego, the cop car that the team will be bringing with them when they arrive in 10 minutes will be here especially for you. We took the liberty of digging up your sealed records, Adam - I hope you don’t mind me using the name you failed to give me in person, but it’s important to acknowledge that the evidence we have on you has that very name all over it - and you are going to be locked away for as long as I can make possible. When you do inevitably get released, I’ll be watching you for the rest of your life to make certain that no job you ever get is capable of sustaining you in the long term and that every person you ever have more than one passing conversation with is sent a direct copy of your criminal history. I’ve also registered you to over 100 charities dedicated to helping survivors of abuse, equating to at least 50% of your total income - with encrypted passwords that you’re *incredibly unlikely* to be capable of guessing - and if I were you, I’d never try to stop those donations, because our technical analyst is keeping tabs on them. For the pain you have caused (Y/N) during the time I’ve been away, I am going to ruin the rest of your life without breaking a single law.”

The rage contained between the two men was very different. Adam made his anger obvious to try and scare you and intimidate Spencer - at which, he failed miserably. Spencer, on the other hand, was as cold as ice, every sentence further salt to the wounds he had already inflicted. 

The idiot actually took a step towards Spencer, then, in an attempt to frighten him, but when Spencer took the two strides necessary to stand toe to toe with him and stare him down, Adam realized his mistake, only made clearer by Spencer’s next words.

“Please, give me a reason to break something other than a law. If you think I won't go back to prison, for her, you really are the most unintelligent excuse for a human being I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting.” Spencer’s voice was hauntingly low. 

In the distance, sirens could be heard, and Spencer held a hand out behind him. “(Y/N), would you mind if I took the trash out?” 

He asked you, not lifting his steely gaze from Adam. Leaning forward, you took hold of Spencer’s hand and gave it a squeeze, bringing the first smile to Spencer’s face that he felt in his heart since he went to prison. 

He squeezed your hand back, so gently, then abruptly let go to grab the back of Adam’s collar and throw him down, using his grip to drag him out of your home and kick him onto the street.

“Wherever you go, everyday for the rest of your life, I will be right behind you. If you ever so much as think of her again, after what you did to her, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.” Spencer threatened with an eerily calm voice, safe to do so because you were out of earshot. 

Adam sputtered from his place on the ground, where he belonged, and as the police car pulled up outside of your house, Spencer speed walked back through your front door and into your living room, finding you sobbing into your hands. That sight broke his heart more than anything else could ever hope to try.

Spencer crouched down in front of where you sat on the couch, his chest aching. “Sweetheart, please, look at me, I’m right here.” He told you, his voice so sincere it almost hurt you to hear. 

Slowly lowering your hands from your face, Spencer didn't hesitate to hold them in his own, rolling your sleeves up enough to hold your hands in his.

“I’m s-so sorry, Spencer, I never should have-” You began, but Spencer shook his head, not about to let you blame yourself for any of this.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (Y/N), I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you sooner. I’m so sorry that I was gone for so long.” He apologized, knowing that he had gone to jail for the right reasons, but having never intended to hurt you by doing so.

The gravity of his absence and what he could have gone through in prison caused your bottom lip tremble and before Spencer could register what you were doing, you crawled from the couch to his lap, the two of you sitting on the floor and holding each other so tightly, shattering whatever invisible barrier had come between you.

“I thought about you all the time.” He sniffled into your shoulder as he held you, enveloped by the familiar scent of you, of his home. 

You cried harder at the thought of Spencer missing you so much, being so far away, while you were missing him just as much in a world that was truly dead in his absence. 

“I’m sure that you noticed, but your desk was exactly as you left it, save for the sticky notes. I…wouldn’t let any of the cleaners tidy it, I did it everyday, making sure that everything was left exactly as you’d last used it, so that it was like you were there only yesterday.” You chuckled bashfully through your tears, absentmindedly playing with Spencer’s hair to calm him. 

Spencer managed to laugh with you. “I did notice, yes, and that was ridiculously sweet of you, along with the notes.”

Pulling away from him slightly, you hold his face in your hands. “I think your absence may have created an unhealthy co-dependency, going forward.”

Spencer smiled at you. “I couldn’t agree more.”

You giggled at that, his absolute favourite sound since the day you met. “I don’t mind.”

Spencer couldn’t stop himself from grinning, the two of you having fallen right back into the bond you had before he went to prison, like nothing had ever separated you.

“I don’t, either.” He said, both of you all too aware of the fact you are going to be attached at the hip from now on.

You grinned at him then, and it was like the sunshine peeking through clouds that had filled his skies for far too long. “I’ve been waiting over a decade for you to ask me something, Doctor Reid, and I know your magical memory hasn’t forgotten.”

Immediately, he knew exactly what you were referring to - of course he did - Spencer’s brain was finely tuned to you, always able to decipher every subtext to everything you said and did; you were his favourite study in the universe, after all.

His heart skipped a beat at your reference and he couldn’t believe it, but he gulped, like he was the boy he was on the day you met, blushing at the thought of getting to kiss you someday.

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked, not questioning whether you were sure he would remember, because you both knew he did, but whether you were certain you wanted him to ask. 

At that, you beamed at him. “Spencer, I’ve had over a decade to deliberate and my answer hasn’t changed since the day we met.”

And his heart soared at your words, it beat to life in a way that only you could make it, pounding against his chest.

“Then…” He cleared his throat, knowing it was now or never and he was not going to shy away from this, even if his face was flushed as he asked, “I do still feel like I would rather kiss you than shake your hand, so…may I?”

You didn’t give him a verbal answer. In fact, he had barely finished asking before you all but launched yourself at him, pulling Spencer’s lips to yours and kissing him like you really had been waiting your entire life to do it, because you absolutely had. Spencer’s hands found your hips and he kissed you back like a man starved, feeling the parts of him he never thought he would see again return to him, your kiss breathing life back into him. The look in your eyes as you pulled away from him told him that when you looked at him, you could still see the boy he was on the day you met. He was still him, and always would be, to you.

It is safe to say, that was far from the only kiss you exchanged that night. Spencer had actually promised you that, despite it being scientifically improbable, he would kiss away every mark on your body left on you by a man that never deserved you, and he would only ever leave you with marks of love, if you asked very nicely.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #headcannon #headcannons

[imaginesmai]

You stared at yourself through the long-standing mirror that had a crack on the left side. The dress was long, but simple, and had a lacey design of sunflowers that matched the bouquet Gemma had chosen for you. The long sleeves made with lace looked elegant and soft, covering your whole arm and finishing right at your wrists. There was no long train, no veil or crown, nothing but the dress that made you feel like a princess.

It didn’t belong to Jax’s room, where last night events were still present. The empty bottles, the cigarettes on the ground, the crumpled sheets on the corner of the bed.

A pair of your panties on the chair.

Last night was wild, but you were much more at ease that right then. In front of the mirror, in your weeding dress, you felt like throwing up.

“You look beautiful” Gemma said from the door. “Are you ready?”

“I look like a flower vase. And I guess I am”

You didn’t look at her as she came closer. She was wearing a black, tight dress that left little to imagination, but that made her look like the queen. Standing in front of his mirror, in his room, the doubts appeared for the first time. Because, what if you were rushing things? What if you were invading his family?

It hadn’t been a rushed decision, months of planning and years of dating, but with Jax it was never easy. You had known each other since you were children, playing in the street with Opie and Thomas. As Piney’s daughter, you had grown in the club, between bikes and guns. And through the years, you had found your home in Jax’s arms, and he had made its way into your heart.

Gemma turned you around until you were looking at her, and she gave you a soft smile. The first tear decided to roll down your cheek, threatening to ruin your make-up. You tried not to think about the past, about your father being killed by Clay or your brother dying in a rotten cell from a cruel beating.

Last year had been heavy on you, on the club. You had delayed the weeding until everything was solved, and you thanked Jax for being so patient. But now, minutes away, you didn’t know if you were ready.

“What’s the matter, baby?” she caught the tear before it could do any damage.

“I don’t know” you said, feeling your chest becoming tight and heavy. “I don’t know”

“It’s okay to feel nervous. You’re about to take a huge step”

“I just – I know the club if my family, Gem, but… I wished they’d be here” you tried to stop the next tear. “They aren’t”

“Oh, Y/N. Come here”

You let yourself fall against her shoulder, careful not to ruin the dress.

There were things that you were certain about, like loving Jax, wanting a life together and doing anything for Abel. But you weren’t sure about many others. The constant beef with other clubs and organizations, your role in Abel’s life, the responsibilities of becoming the wife of the club’s president. Just last night, naked and drunk, Jax and you had dreamt about your shared life from now on, and you would have thought you were invincible.

But you had learnt that good things didn’t match your lifestyle, that you weren’t that lucky.

You didn’t know how much time you spent between Gemma’s arms, just hugging her tightly and waiting for your fears to go away. It was stupid, because you had gone through horrible things together, but somehow marrying felt like the last straw.

Once you were sure you weren’t going to break down, you took a deep breath and broke away.

“You sure you’re ready?” she asked, gripping your forearm.

“Yeah. Just – yeah”

Both of you had decided that you wanted a simple weeding, just the club and a few friends, so the club had been the chosen place. A friend of the club would officiate the wedding, and then, you had rented a catering service for the day. It was simple, and easy, but you couldn’t convince your heart to play along.

You walked down the familiar hallways, now empty, holding onto Gemma’s arm. In silence, you begged yourself to enjoy the day and forget about the past.

When you saw him waiting for you, with white shirt and denim trousers, you felt those worries slipping away.

Jax had been worried that you would change your mind, that something had happened, so he had sent his mother looking for you. After last night, he had left you to get changed and get everything ready with the boys, who didn’t help calm his nerves. What did help was finally seeing you walking towards him, as pretty as a dream.

He had chosen the only shirt he owned, had ironed his trousers and cleaned his sneakers, and he felt like the tramp as you were his lady. No matter how well he cleaned himself or how much effort he put into the details – he would never catch up with you.

Abel, who was holding the wedding rings next to his father, moved around with a nervous laugh.

“She looks beautiful, right?” Jax told him, not tearing his eyes away from you.

After what felt like forever, you finally made it to his side. Gemma took away the bouquet and you leaned for a kick kiss from Abel, who laughed once more before leaving. Everyone got up as the priest started talking, but you only had eyes for each other.

For Jax, it was hard to believe he was actually there, that he deserved it. That you had said yes and were about to become his wife. You stared at his blue eyes as he told you about it without a word, just with his side smile and the utter devotion he looked at you with.

“Not too late to change your mind” he half-joked, holding your hand.

“Same thing” you whispered back, squeezing it. “You sure about this?”

You were sure, and Jax too, but in your line of life, it was hard to believe when things turned out to be good. He had been your anchor through the years, and having a ring on your finger wouldn’t change it or make it better. It was only another step you were willing to take with him, one of many you had yet to take.

The way Jax stared at you while the priest continued with the ceremony cleared any doubt you had about it.

“I love you, darling” he answered after a moment. “I’m not going anywhere”

#jax teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller one shot #jax teller short imagine #jax teller short fic #jax teller x reader #jackson teller #jackson teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy one shot #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy fic #soa #soa imagine #soa one shot #soa x reader #soa fic #imaginesmai #imaginemai #imagine mai #imagines mai #x reader #imagine #one shot #fic

[itsclydebitches]

I need more time to put my thoughts in order about tonight's episode, but my initial reaction is that I'm surprised by others' disappointment? I mean, I'm actually not that surprised because coming out stories are intensely personal with viewers all looking for/needing vastly different things from their media, but it just feels like a lot of what (I thought) Ted Lasso was trying to do has gotten lost under specific expectations.

Ted goes off on a long, ridiculous, borderline disgusting story at the worst possible moment? Yes, that's the point. For all my fun TedTrent theories, Ted is (currently) serving the role of the well-meaning, but often ignorant straight man. His function is to both provide the insight and warmth that he's known for - "Actually it does matter to us" - while simultaneously showing how this intensely heteronormative culture would react to a player coming out. AKA messily. If we got a perfect scenario where everyone was accepting and said exactly the right thing, that would undermine the problems the show is trying to acknowledge in the first place. The focus on Isaac's complicated anger and Ted's foot-in-mouth syndrome is just as important to this whole scenario as the club's overall acceptance and the fact that Ted immediately realizes that he fucked up: "I regret that." Ted Lasso is a feel-good comedy, so it's all couched in over-the-top humor, but I thought that was an important acknowledgement: your allies - straight or not, out or not - are likely going to react in cringe-worthy, imperfect ways and the important takeaway there is not that they're irredeemable people who don't love you, but that they're trying and you should gently correct them (as Colin does) and allow them to grow (as Ted does). Despite being an absurd fiction, Ted Lasso is working to write about this in a semi-realistic sense. Instead of a Perfect Coming Out Moment that makes all the queer fans (myself included!) squeal at how ~wonderful~ our beloved cast is for being oh so perfect, we get that realistic awkwardness, misplaced anger, and regret.

We cut away from Colin coming out? Yes, because he's already come out to us. I understand why fans would be disappointed in that, but I don't think it's fair to characterize the show as not allowing Colin to come out at all. That was the entirety of "Sunflowers." Rather than trying to fit Colin's big moment into a locker room halftime, the writers crafted a whole episode where he could grapple with that fear of being outed, be reassured, have a heart-to-heart with Trent, sit together on the monument, go out later in celebration... Ted Lasso made space for all that and, understandably to my mind, didn't want to rehash many of those same beats three episodes later, especially not when we need time to work through the intersection of Colin's story with everyone else. (Because despite this being a queer story-line about a queer man, the show is about the team. Colin's conflict was always going to expand into the rest of the cast.) No, we don't get to see Colin come out specifically to the others, but we did see him come out - both narratively by kissing a man and to Trent - and we see the team's reaction immediately after the fact. Making space for Issac didn't feel like it was cheating Colin to me, or focusing too much on the straight characters, because Colin's story has been a season in the making (plus some details earlier on). To say nothing of the fact that his hesitance about coming out is specifically because he fears the team's reaction... so why wouldn't we grapple with Isaac's negative reaction? We already know Colin's worries, we know what he wants, we see him seeking advice from Trent, we see him reaching out to Issac, we see that failing, and after all that his queer story-line is functionally at a stand-still until something else gives. Issac's explosion is what finally tips the scales.

Idk I don't think I'm explaining this very well because it's late and I only just watched, but I'm of the opinion that Ted Lasso did a lot of work in previous episodes so that they'd have space in this episode to do different work, which is smart. From a narrative perspective, Ted doesn't need to be the perfect ally because Colin already has a supportive queer mentor. "La Locker Room Aux Folles" doesn't need to try to balance Colin's emotional coming out with Isaac's internalized homophobia because "Sunflowers" already gave the audience so, so much, allowing the writers to both keep things on screen for our benefit and then later cut away for the sake of time. As said, stories like these are always going to be a hit-or-miss depending on what each individual fan wants and needs, but I think it's worth keeping in mind that Colin's story is not this single episode; it's all of them combined. Has Ted Lasso really not treated his journey respectfully... or did it just not try to check every queer story-line box in a single episode?

#Ted Lasso #Ted Lasso spoilers #Colin Hughes

[seiya-starsniper]

I don't know if you're still doing the flower language prompts, but I wanted to send about twelve and narrowed it down to two lol.

So for Dreamling: Sunflower, dwarf ("How many ways do I have to confess for you to believe me?") and/or Tarragon ("Here's all the reasons why you shouldn't like me")

🤘 five-and-dimes

@five-and-dimes my beloved, so happy to hear from you!!! <3 I did my best to combine these two because they’re SUCH GOOD PROMPTS and they also fit the @monsterfucktoberbingo theme so well. Hope you enjoy!!!

Square: Cryptid

Flower Prompt Game!

----------

When Roderick Burgess unveils his circus’s latest spectacle, Hob is one of the only spectators who doesn’t gasp or recoil in abject horror at what he reveals.

“Behold! I have captured the omen of Death himself!” Roderick declares loudly. “Many have decried his existence, but here he stands before you!” he gestures to the chained being. “Look upon his horrid form. Does he not strike fear even in the bravest of men?”

Well, he certainly struck something in Hob, but he wasn’t sure that the feeling was fear.

The creature on display was absolutely stunning, if Hob were honest, but he can understand why his appearance would seem a horror at first. The thing certainly wore the basic shape of a man, with pale white skin that seemed to glow under the harsh din of the spotlight, and messy black hair that fell down to his shoulders. But where his feet would be, there were instead large, golden talons with long obsidian nails that dug deep into the dirt below them as the creature struggled to keep his balance.

And his hands. They were barely hands at all, with only four fingers on each, and white nails so long they were practically claws. The skin too, from finger to elbow was ashen black as if burnt, but when Hob looked closer, he could see the skin there shimmered like the rest of him in the light. 

The most significant part of the creature, though, was his wings. They were what Hob expected an angel’s wings to appear like, large and spanning the length of his body. Except, instead of white, these wings were pitch black, with the very tips of them colored a deep red, as if dipped in blood during war. Hob so badly wanted to see the full wingspan of the creature, certain that it would outdo even an albatross, but, understandably, Burgess had completely bound the creature’s wings in both rope and chains in a measure to keep him from escaping.

Burgess cracks his whip near the creature’s feet and he snarls at the crowd, who jeer and yell in response. Burgess cracks the whip twice more but the creature has gone silent, glaring defiantly now at all its unwanted audience. 

When its eyes land on the area Hob is seated in, he swears it is his eyes the creature locks his gaze onto. And oh, even from as high up as he is, Hob can feel the ice forming in those cold blue eyes. It pierces through him like a hot knife through butter, and Hob finds himself willingly drawn in, wanting to move closer, wanting to reach out and touch this magnificent being—

The lights cut out shortly after, ending the show for the night. Hob goes to bed that night and dreams of the creature on the stage, dreams of talons and feathers, and drowning in an ice cold lake the color of the being’s eyes. 

When he wakes in the morning, Hob is resolute. A creature as magnificent as that does not belong in chains. He sets fire to Burgess’s circus arena later that night, and he and the creature (Dream, he called himself) steal away into the night.

—-

“Why are you helping me?” Dream asks him one afternoon after they’ve been on the run for three days.

“Would you rather I left you to rot in Burgess’s circus?” Hob shoots back as he’s skinning the stag Dream hunted and caught them for dinner.

“You had a life in that village, did you not?” Dream says, refusing to let go of the subject and stomping his talons into the forest floor. “Why throw it away for something like me?”

Hob shrugs. “I’m a widower with a dead son,” he replies. “Not much of a life by anyone’s definition. Besides,” he adds, “You looked like you needed saving.”

“So it’s pity then?” Dream snarls, unfurling his wings to their full length. They brush against the nearby trees and the sheer strength of their muscles snap a few branches clean off. Hob realizes he had been right about Dream’s wingspan. It was wider than that of an albatross, and they were absolutely gorgeous. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Hob says before he can stop himself.

Dream stumbles back and retracts his wings, clearly caught off guard by the revelation. 

“You don’t mean that,” Dream says, looking anywhere but at Hob. He’s got a furiously red blush that starts at his cheeks and seems to crawl all the way down to his chest. It makes him look even lovelier.

Hob smiles despite himself. “Maybe that’s why I saved you,” he chuckles. “Maybe I just wanted you all to myself.”

“Then you are an even bigger idiot than I thought,” Dream replies, before he stomps off. 

—-----------

On a particularly cold night, Hob wakes to find himself covered by one of Dream’s wings.

“This means nothing,” Dream mutters, even as he presses his chest to Hob’s back. 

Hob can’t help but grin like a fool. He reaches out to run a finger along the bend of the wing that’s currently serving as his blanket, and delights when he feels Dream shudder behind him.

“Your secret’s safe with me, you big softie,” Hob chuckles before he falls back asleep, feeling more content than he has in years.

—------------

They’ve been on the run for almost a year before Burgess and his men manage to catch up to them. They’re cornered at the bottom of a valley, and Hob knows if they can make it to the river and cross it, they’ll be all right. Burgess’s men are all on horses that wouldn’t dare cross the rushing waters. 

They’re almost to the clearing when Dream stops suddenly and says, “Leave me.”

“What?! No, I’m not leaving you!” Hob exclaims. “Come on, we’re almost at the river—”

“Burgess’s horses will cross the river,” Dream replies. “He’s desperate to get me back, alive or dead. And you are tired.”

“I’m fine,” Hob insists. 

“You’re not!” Dream argues. “You’re practically limping and you—you have done more than enough for me. If I leave you now and fly north, they’ll stop following you and come after me instead.”

“Sorry sweetheart, you’re stuck with me,” Hob replies, pulling out his sword and getting ready to fight as he hears Burgess’s men grow closer. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Dream yells. “Roderick Burgess had been hunting me long before we met, and he will continue to do so until one of us is dead. You cannot possibly want to be on the run forever.”

“And if I do?” Hob asks. “Dream—how many ways do I have to tell you I want this—want you—before you’ll believe me?”

Dream hisses, and before Hob can say anything else, he finds himself lifted high into the air as Dream takes off with the both of them, rushing at full speed towards the river. His long white claws dig into Hob’s skin and Hob holds on for dear life as he buries his face into Dream’s neck to avoid the whiplash of the wind.

When they finally land, Hob can no longer hear the neighing of the horses, or the yell of Burgess’s men. Dream practically drops him to the ground, and Hob realizes the other had used the last of his strength to get them to safety. Before he can collapse, Hob catches him, and after a quick look around, manages to find a small cave that they can use for shelter for the night. 

“That was bloody brilliant, love,” Hob sighs happily once they’re inside and lying side to side. “Think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Dream mumbles. “Love me, at all. I have caused you nothing but harm, and you will always be on the run so long as you stay with me. I cannot give you any of the comforts of a human life, not money, status, or a family.”

“I know,” Hob replies gently, taking Dream's dark hands in his. “I’m not asking you to. I told you before, all I want is you. You can give me all the reasons you want about why I shouldn’t, but I’ll still choosing you.”

“Idiot,” Dream says, but his tone is fond. He then wraps a wing around Hob and scoots closer, so their bodies are flush against each other. “Though I suppose you are my idiot.”

Hob smiles and presses his lips to Dream’s. “As long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #monsterfucktoberbingo #the sandman fanfic #seiya writes #seiya writes dreamling

[rafesveryrealgf]

Inseparable was adorable but also broke my heart! 🥺

Could I request where one of their babies adores the reader?

a/n: this is just a little drabble but I hope you enjoy!

Lavender Sunflower - Cuddle Buddy

Warnings: kissing? I think that’s it

Nathan was a daddy’s boy and everyone knew it. He made it quite obvious. But Kai was an absolute mama’s boy. And you loved every second of it. Before Kai was born you feared that all your children after Nathan would be clinging to Rafe just as Nathan did. So when Kai was born and was constantly clinging to you, you finally felt like it was fair that Nathan was more attached to Rafe whilst Kai was more attached to you.

“We’re not having any more children.” You say to Rafe in a joking way, but still very serious.

“I second that.” He chuckles.

You were both in bed, Rafe was rested up against the headboard, one arm propped behind his head as you laid beside him, exhausted from the day you both had. Today was one of those days where parenting completely kicked your ass but luckily everyone was now asleep but you and Rafe — so you thought.

After a few more words were exchanged about the day, Rafe leaned down and over towards you and planted a kiss on your jawline, following it with another kiss down your neck, then another down your chest. You closed your eyes at the feeling. Taking him in as you let the stress from the day, out.

“I love you,” he mumbled into your skin.

Just as you were about to reply you heard tiny foot steps on the hardwood floor. You exhaled sharply when Rafe quickly pulled away from you to see which small human of yours was coming down the hall.

Kai appeared in the doorway, his eyes puffy from just waking up.

“What are you doing awake, pumpkin?” You ask your sleepy toddler.

“Scared.” Was all he said as he walked over to the bed and lifted his arms up at Rafe. “Up.” he demanded.

You snorted.

“You gotta learn how to sleep alone, bud. You know that, right?” Rafe replied to his son, still picking him up to sit him on the bed despite his previous words. “Just like Nate.”

“Nuh uh,” He shook his head. “I lay with mama.” He crawled over to you and snuggled up right in between you and Rafe, laying his head on your chest.

You smiled up at Rafe, knowing he was feeling defeated. “No..” Rafe replied. “…You’re gonna learn how to sleep in your own bed.

“Like a big boy.” He continued when Kai said nothing back.

“Rafe it’s okay. Just let him,” you placed your hand on Rafe’s leg and patted it. “Only for tonight, right babe?” You asked Kai.

He nodded at that, already knowing tomorrow he’d do it, and succeed, again.

“That’s what you said last night. And the night before that. And the night before that.” Rafe had been defeated, yet again.

He was right though. It was just impossible for you to say no to Kai.

“It’s fine, Rafe.” You placed your hand on your sons back and rubbed up and down, hoping he’d fall back asleep soon.

“It’s not, Y/n. He needs to learn,” Rafe argued. He shifted on the bed to turn off the lamp that sat on the nightstand beside him. “That he can’t just hop in our bed every night.”

“He’s already in bed. We’ll try tomorrow.” You closed your eyes after that as you attempted to fall asleep.

Rafe scoffed lowly. you opened one eye when you felt the bed move — Rafe was getting underneath the covers and once he did he turned on his side away from you and Kai.

“You’re not gonna hold us?” You asked sweetly, slightly leaning your head up.

Rafe sighed, turning back over, now facing you and Kai. He pulled you and Kai closer to him.

Even though he was frustrated at the way you gave into Kai, his heart still warmed up at the feel of his son and wife wrapped up into his arms.

The room fell silent.

Rafe was laying on his side, his long arm extended over yours and Kai’s body as Rafe finally drifted off to sleep..

“Move, daddy,” Kai whined, following it up with a backwards kick to Rafe’s ribs.

#obx #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafecameron #drew starkey #rafe x reader imagines #dad!rafe #dad!rafe Cameron