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fictioncupid · 2 months ago

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Don't tell me you don't want this. (they/them ver) (NSFW)

Looking for the he/him version?

Ao3 link! - Don't tell me you don't want this.

MINORS DO NOT RB OR COMMENT! PLEASE.

Summary:

You knew L was going to notice your crush on him sooner or later. You just didn’t expect him to bring it up in a room full of your colleagues.

33,776 words of explicit L/reader insert, 25k set up, 8k porn (ish). Longest thing I've written to date so be nice lol.

Pronouns & genital terms used!:

Reader- they/them, clit, pussy, cunt, entrance

CW: Reader has a panic attack during this fic (not during the sex), and L is kind of manipulative (not intentionally mean tho).

Notes and NSFW content warnings under the cut.

NSFW content warnings: multiple orgasms, size kink, edging, d/s dynamic, cunnilingus, armpit kink? If you squint?

Notes: L is referred to as ‘Ryuzaki’ for most of this fic

set early-ish in the investigation

L calls reader ‘bambi’ for… plot reasons… not because I find it hot…. not at alllll…..

××××××××××

You’re sitting watching one of several monitors over Ryuzaki’s shoulder for the sixth day in a row when it happens. When your world gets tipped sideways and you wish the Earth would split wide and swallow you whole just so you don’t have to live through it. Well, maybe that's a slight exaggeration but it does feel like an ice bucket is being tipped over your head. You don’t know what to do when he says it. First being confused by his unusual line of questioning, then abjectly mortified by where it ends up. Considering that the Ryuzaki you’d gotten to know over these past few months didn’t care for small talk, or even big talk if it wasn’t at least tangentially related to the case, you should have known there was some other reason for him to be asking how you’ve been sleeping.

Your eyes had glazed over long before this happened. Tired and bored it was hard to keep your focus from slipping onto more… entertaining prospects. Prospects like the one sitting right in front of you, perched on a wheelie chair with his knees pulled up to his chest. Your gaze shifts ever so slightly from the grainy picture in front of you to just left of it, pulled in by the repetitive motion of him pulling a lock of hair through his long fingers. You didn’t notice when you started watching Ryuzaki tuck and then untuck his hair around his ear, but it is somehow mesmerising. His other hand is presumably preoccupied clicking his thumbnail between his teeth.

You can hear the sharp tik-tik-tik of it in the near silence of the room, the only other audio coming from the CCTV being played before you but even that is just fuzzy static. Ryuzaki claims it helps him focus. He’s already said he doesn’t think there’s any new information to be gleaned from watching this tape again, so you don’t feel too bad for watching him instead. Focus drifting to how big his hands are, how long his fingers are, the sharp, bony edges of his wrists and you wonder yet again if the man eats anything other than sweets. Where it all goes on his wiry, lean frame? How soft his belly must be. If his nipples are puffy and his tits are soft. This is a topic you come back to often. You caught a glance of him shirtless once, so you know his nipples are brown. A surprise given how pale he is but certainly not an unwelcome one.

You’ve had a crush on Ryuzaki for a couple months now. The attraction had been immediate but the feelings only blossomed once you got to know him more. Mainly after it became apparent how lost the entire task force would be without him, thus making some of his earlier choices seem a little less severe and more unfortunately necessary.

If you were any less shy maybe you would have done something about them- the feelings, but Ryuzaki really doesn’t seem interested in anything other than catching Kira and maybe occasionally teasing you but you’re not sure that’s anything more than an intellectual pastime of indulging his mild latent sadism. You’re not even sure if he knows about your interest in him or if he just enjoys watching you skitter. And you’re not interested in making more of a fool of yourself than you regularly do. So, instead you’ve chosen to stifle and sit on your feelings in hopes they’ll go away.

However, your attempts to crush them out of existence don’t seem to be working as of late, considering they keep cropping up at the most inopportune times. Like now for example, when you’re supposed to be working and instead you’re thinking about how his nipples would taste. Sweet, like all the sugar he eats? Or maybe salty, with how little inclination for self care the man exhibits he’s got to be at least a little sweaty most of the time.

You stifle an airy giggle to yourself. Your hand comes up to cover your mouth in surprise at the noise when Ryuzaki turns his wide eyed, inquisitive stare on you. He’s only turned his neck, and not the rest of his body. Like some kind of fucked up owl. You were right, and his thumb is indeed in his mouth. You jump, startled out of your daydream by him. It takes a couple tries wetting your dry mouth with your tongue before you can stop thinking about anything other than the shape and shade and weight of his cock in your mouth.

‘Are you alright, Bambi?’

‘Huh? What? Oh… Ye-yes I’m-I’m fine.’ You laugh awkwardly, hoping to dispel the tension you know he can’t feel. You twirl your hair between your fingers for something to do with your hands. You must be redder than a tomato with how on fire your face feels. But, better the blood rushing there than… other places, you suppose, as you squirm awkwardly in your seat. You feel like a bug under a microscope under his wide-eyed, investigative gaze.

Ryuzaki’s mouth turns down slightly. He pauses the tapes that you’re not watching without even looking at it, and then a leg comes down to spin his chair to face you before returning to its usual position. He scratches the toes on his left foot with his right and you swallow nervously as you look on. You’re fucked. Oh you’re so fucked. Somehow, someway, something has connected in that freaky huge detective brain of his and you now have his full undivided attention right where you don’t want it. Focused on your face and your body language right after you’ve been spacing out thinking about how delicious it would be to be fucked by him. Shit.

You’re familiar enough with Ryuzaki’s idiosyncrasies by now to know he does things like the feet on feet scratching when he’s hyper focused. He says it’s because he doesn’t want to break his posture, and risk missing a crucial break in the case because ‘his deductive reasoning is lowered by forty-percent’ when he sits normally. Whatever the fuck that means.

Ryuzaki frowns deeper and scoots his chair towards you, leaning in far enough that you start to hold your breath in hopes he won’t notice the spike in your breathing at the closeness. He’s tilting his head to the side and staring blankly past you when you start to question whether Ryuzaki can secretly read minds, or if somehow he has some kind of superhuman hearing where your steadily faster thumping heart is audible to him. Either way, you’re getting steadily more convinced that the jig is already up, but you’re not going down without a fight. Embarrassment will not kill you this day. Maybe tomorrow, but not today. You steel your resolve and put on your best poker face.

The other members of the task force are sitting on the couches behind you. You can feel their gaze on the situation without even turning to look. Part of you is desperately hoping that they’re far too busy with work to focus on the two of you, but you know in your heart that the reality is the room is tiny, and they can hear all of this in high definition even if they don’t look.

You all split into different teams earlier this week when Matsuda and Aizawa claimed they couldn’t watch any more of the same CCTV without clawing their eyes out. You understand their sentiment, it’s hard to feel useful when you can’t figure out what other data you could extrapolate from the tapes. You feel a little useless everytime Ryuzaki catches some small detail overlooked on the last run, whether inconsequential to the investigation or not. But Ryuzaki requested you personally aid him, so here you are. Your coworkers have been pouring over weeks of data trying to trace Kira in any possible way instead. From the tense atmosphere behind you this week, you’ve begun to think the endless data scrolling is somehow worse than the hours upon hours of CCTV.

The team needs a new lead quite desperately, yet nothing seems to pan out so morale is low among all the officers here. Ryuzaki himself doesn’t seem at all affected. So when he deemed it necessary to have two eyes on the screens instead of one ‘incase he missed something’, you didn’t question it, hoping to feel helpful for once, but over time it’s become quite apparent you’re just here as insurance. A physical fail-safe allowing ‘L’ to explain his case to the others without seeming totally crazy when he inevitably figures it out from some seemingly insignificant detail. He said he picked you, out of all the others, due to your ‘tenacity’ and ‘keen sense of observation’. But you’re of the opinion that he’s simply rewarding you for not telling him your real, legal name alongside everyone else the first time you met. Some reward. Watching the same CCTV footage on repeat ‘in case you missed something’, instead of reading sheet after sheet of mindless data, logging peoples movement, looking for the slightest hint of suspicion. You knew it would be hard work when you signed on to this case, you just didn’t know it would be so boring. You wonder for the first time since you all started this if Ryuzaki, if L is stuck too, or if he even knows what he’s looking for.

Then you wonder if he would have still rewarded you if he knew the real reason you didn’t tell him your name when you first met. If you explained to him how within thirty seconds of laying eyes on him all you could focus on was his tall stature and the lazy confidence within which he held himself, one hand tucked nonchalantly in his jean’s pocket while meeting the Superintendent of the NPA. What he would think if you told him that his dark circles and ‘can’t be bothered’ heavy lidded stare had frozen you in place as a mixture of fear and arousal had trickled down your spine. That if he’d asked for your name then and there your tongue would simply have felt too big to move in your mouth. That the most you would have gotten out was a rasping ‘hah’ as you tried desperately to unstick it. Maybe he does know, even if he didn’t then. It was, after all, how you’d gotten your nickname, ‘Bambi’.

All the other officer’s were given normal aliases such as ‘Captain Shijuro Asahi’ instead of ‘Detective Superintendent Yagami’ and yet when it came to you, ‘Bambi’ is what he called you. Of course, your fake badge says something different but that’s what he called you. Calls you. The first time you heard it, it startled you out of your hazy cloud of anxious anticipation and flinched you into movement when he had booped you with the lollipop that had been in his mouth. His mouth. On your nose. With a sweet, monotoned drawl of, ‘coming, Bambi?’, after you hadn’t moved with everyone else. It still jellies your legs now to think about it.

You didn’t even mind that it was sticky and wet, leaving a smudge on your nose. Not hearing the chief's complaints about professionalism, you had followed along robotically after the others as they settled into the room and Ryuzaki explained that it was, ‘because you looked like a deer in headlights.’ as his own defence. You noted that he’d (wisely) chosen to omit defending the nose-boop. You’d spun to face him, startled at his reasoning and Ryuzaki had had this entirely innocent smile on his face. Like a puppy that was about to be treated to his favourite snack and was just waiting in anticipation. You could practically see his tail wagging proudly behind him. Your face had flushed redder than hell and you rushed to your seat hoping that no-one else had noticed the influence he had on you within your first five minutes of meeting.

That’s where you are now, months later. Still feeling the same tummy-churning sense of shame over your body's gut reaction to him and how casually he’s leaning into your space. Staring intently at your face like if he looked long enough he could unravel your very essence. You feel yourself going red. Maybe he can. Ryuzaki sits back, hands going to clutch at his feet as he mutters, ‘...as I thought.’, before rubbing his thumb over the wet line of his upper lip.

You instinctively say, ‘what?’, and immediately wince, wishing you hadn’t given him the opening. Not that it’s going to make a difference. Ryuzaki is going to say what he’s going to say whether you want to hear it or not, but still… It’s like you’re playing devil's advocate for him.

‘How has your sleep been recently?’ You blink. It’s not the question you expected him to ask but Ryuzaki’s staring at you in earnest, his wide eyes trained on your face to look for signs of honesty or discomfort.

He told you once that he didn’t really understand emotions all that much, or why people were driven to do certain things rather than just ask or talk about it diplomatically. It’s why he liked Kira. Not that he’d ever tell anyone else that, and with the caveat that it was only as much as anyone could like a mass-murdering freak. He understands him.

Ryuzaki explained that Kira had motivations that were easily discernible to someone as logic driven as himself. He’d said he knew for certain that if- no, when he found the evidence to put Kira to justice, that Kira himself would answer any and all the questions Ryuzaki had for him. That he wouldn’t be able to help himself. Ryuzaki even suggested the possibility of Kira confessing to his crimes of his own volition before there’s evidence if the two of them ever meet in person, simply due to his ego.

Part of you worries that this is his contingency if you don’t come across real, physical evidence of his crimes. And it’s seeming increasingly more possible as each day without a new lead comes to pass. The Ryuzaki you know would invite Kira into his own home under false pretences to see if he slips up without blinking. The other part of you knows there’s no point in worrying about it because there is no stopping Ryuzaki once he’s decided something. You can only hope he’s as smart as he seems to be and that he catches Kira before Kira kills him.

You’d laughed at the time, spoon halfway from your ice cream to your mouth, you’d flicked it accidentally into Ryuzaki’s face. Of course he simply swiped the dessert off his cheek into his mouth without blinking, sucking his fingers in a way that made your mouth drop open and your eyes dilate and your cunt flutter. You must have stared at his fingers for a good minute before you could get yourself under control. Having to shake your head to clear your thoughts and you keep an intense eye contact with your own dessert for the rest of the conversation, head down and ears burning, hoping against God that your hair would protect at least a semblance of your face as Ryuzaki continued to explain.

Nothing could stop you from continuously glancing over though as Ryuzaki told you that he’d learnt most people were unwilling to answer his questions honestly, and that he’d been forced to learn the physical signs of most emotions in order to aid him in both his detective work and personal life. You’d wondered how much real world application he’s managed to get from that, considering his almost alien nature to the task force. Whether Aizawa and Ukita would be less irate with him in your downtime if they knew how much work he was putting in to simply talk to them. You couldn’t help but think it was a little bit sad while playing with your spoon. That he has to do so much emotional labour just to even the playing field, and that you would answer his questions honestly, if ever he asked. You even told him as much.

But… maybe not now, you think to yourself as the memory floods back to you. Not when you’re trying so desperately to keep something hidden from him. Something you’d really rather remain private and then die in obscurity. Not when the stakes are so high. Sure, maybe it’d started off as a simple uncontrollable physical attraction. One you thought would go away after spending countless hours in his company, but the longer you've been spending with him, the worse it’s been getting. At this point your crush has grown way beyond the bounds of physical desire. Making your unshaking need to keep this hidden all the greater. You just knew it would be humiliating for you if he ever found out about it.

Mainly because you’re certain he won’t return your affections. You’re pretty sure you’re not his type: he treats you much the same as your coworkers and while that could be due to professionalism, considering that he forgoes most other aspects of it including socks, you really rather doubt it. Plus, Ryuzaki has a very one-track mind, so you’re unsure if he even thinks about you in a capacity that’s not attached to the Kira case. If you exist to him outside of work. You doubt he has many thoughts pertaining to anything other than Kira at the moment. He seems to work tirelessly, day and night. Interest and attention rarely waning and when it does it’s simply a switch in focus to a distraction that allows his mind a break to process the information he absorbed earlier and organise it.

You worry sometimes that that’s all you are. A distraction. He does seem to seek you out more so than others when he needs a break but you’d don’t know if that’s because he doesn’t quite… click with the others or if he really likes you the most. You think he does. You’re pretty sure that you’re good friends, not just coworkers, but you don’t know. Not for certain. Therefore, he can’t know. You don’t want him to know. You’re not sure you could live with it. At least this way you can live in the ‘what if’ rather than sink in the abyss of the ‘definite no’. You’re sure if he ever found out about your crush it wouldn’t bother him, heck he probably wouldn’t ever think about it after the fact but you’re not so sure you would survive the humiliation. Wanting someone so desperately who maybe doesn’t even think about you. So, you’re choosing to melt into the carpet at the slightest provocation rather than wear your heart on your sleeve and let him know how you feel. It’s safer this way.

You have to snap yourself out of your musings to remind yourself that Ryuzaki is waiting for your response. He asked you how you were sleeping, you think to yourself. ‘I-uh, well? I think. Not any-any different from use-usual, I don’t-don’t think,’ You feel put on the spot from how intently he’s staring at you. A little panicked too. He’s never once bothered asking how you are before, preferring to dive right into whatever he’s thinking about at any given moment with the expectation that you will share if you want to. And now he’s asking about your sleep? This is… weird. You’re unsettled by it.

‘Not any more stressed out than usual? Nothing weighing on your mind? Feeling exhausted from the repetitive nature of the work?’ He inquires further, leaning in again as he does.

You feel the heat rise to your face as it flushes further. He knows. He knows. He knows. How does he know? Your mind starts racing and you don’t know where to look, flickering between his intense stare and his arms and his bare fucking feet tucked up on the edge of his chair.

‘I only ask because you’ve not been acting like yourself recently. Normally you’re full of keen, if not helpful, observations on people and their motivations. However, lately you seem to be staring off into space more than you are working. If you were me that would be normal but you are not me and I need you to be you right now. You notice what I don’t. I wanted your opinion on what, if anything, I might be missing but that’s impossible if you’re not fully here mentally... You’re distracted, and we need all grounds covered if we’re going to catch Kira…’ He goes back to biting his thumb nail after saying all this, worrying it between his teeth the way he does when he’s deep in thought.

You almost collapse in relief. Huh. You’d never once thought he had assigned you here because he wants your help. You’d figured it was more like he valued your unthinking obedience since you don’t really argue with him. Largely because you know he is leagues smarter than everyone else in the room, but also because you know that people normally come to agree with him after he explains himself. Also, admittedly, because you find him so incredibly sexy. In the weirdest, most disarming way possible. And having his wide eyed, intense stare on you for any length of time increases the likelihood of him figuring you out that much faster because you quickly lose the ability to form coherent sentences.

Normally when you disagree with him it’s over domestic things. Like when you decided you’d had enough of seeing his greasy mop hunched over a screen eating his six hundredth sweet and/or bowl of cereal and you’d decided someone was going to make this man take a shower. Everyone else feeling too polite or too awkward to even bring it up to him other than through vague hinting, and someone had to do something. So when the hinting didn’t work, and when you asking him flat out several times didn’t work, you grabbed him by the arm and dragged him bodily over to the bathroom.

At first you weren’t very successful. Being too nervous to get that close to him and stuttering when you tried to ask, feeling more than awkward. But after he had waved you off for the sixth time in a single day and you had smelt him from a metre away you’d sucked it up for the sake of everyone’s noses. Not even flinching after you pulled him to his feet in a surprise attack and he’d swayed bodily over you and into your space with shock and surprise written on his features. You’d just grabbed his shirt by the collar and started briskly moving down the corridor with that momentum before he caught on to what was happening. Bursting into the bedroom you knew was down the hall and briskly stepping over the mess of clothing left on his floor, you turned on the shower and chucked him into it in one large sweeping movement. Hissing ‘Wash. For the love of God and all things holy: wash.’

Only then did Ryuzaki raise an arm and take a whiff of his own armpit, face pinching in distaste for a split second before dropping it and nodding shortly at you. It was then your turn to feel embarrassed as he started stripping off his wet shirt and trousers with no fear for your presence. It was bad enough when his white shirt had started to become translucent from the water and you had kept determined eye contact with him but this? This was too much.

You squeaked, as his sopping shirt went sailing over his head and splatted on the floor beside you. You caught a glance of a brown nipple and then the thick black hair decorating his armpit and then what looked like a dark mole on the fat of his left asscheek as his soaking jeans- no underwear- caught awkwardly on his crotch and he cursed flatly under his breath and you couldn’t breathe as you hightailed it from the room.

You were so embarrassed that you could only nod awkwardly when Matsuda started asking if you managed to make him wash, the two of you having planned this attack earlier in the day when all normal methods of making this man aware of his stench had utterly failed. At least, after being scruffed like a kitten and thrown into an already running shower with his clothes on, Ryuzaki now usually acquiesces to semi-regular bathing habits after the first push or two from you. And, Matsuda’s victory dance was admittedly rather funny.

You take a deep breath and steady yourself. Lying doesn’t come easily to you. Not that you’re bad at it, rather, just that it leaves a bad taste in your mouth. One you can’t wash out. ‘Oh! Well, I mean, it's just that the footage is rather monotonous. Maybe I need a break haha.’ Technically that is true.

Ryuzaki takes no longer than a second to ponder your answer before he says, ’I don’t see how you could find this more boring than when we were watching the CCTV footage from before we caught sight of Penber… In fact, I think this footage is perhaps the most interesting thing we’ve seen all week. Or, do you find that a man’s public death in service of the police force is not interesting enough for you?’

What? Oh fuck. You glance at one of the several monitors in front of you and true to fact staring back at you are several differing angles of Raye Penber’s dying form. How the fuck did you drift off during the most tragic part of all the tapes? Goddamn it. It’s not your fault this is the four hundredth time you’ve watched them! And it wasn’t like you got distracted while he was dying! It was before that. When you noticed the freckle just underneath Ryuzaki’s hairline on the back of his neck. Shit. That’s not a good excuse.

You know that Ryuzaki doesn’t give a flying fuck about you insulting this man’s memory. He’s just mad you aren’t telling him the truth, so he’s punishing you for it. Publicly. The thought makes you seeth internally. Sometimes you hate this man-child. You know the other members of the task force are all watching you now. You can feel their eyes on the back of your neck.

‘Ryuzaki.’ Chief Yagami has stood up. ‘Give them a break. Clearly they’re exhausted mentally and emotionally from watching that tape on repeat. It would take it out of anyone.’ God you love your chief. Love love love! You could just kiss him! Professionally, of course.

‘No. That’s not it. I just asked them if they’re tired and they said no.’ He taps his thumb against his lip. ‘They’re hiding something.’ Oh. There’s more to it than you thought. Ryuzaki’s not just antagonising you for entertainment. Hei’s upset. You’ve upset him by lying. You can see it in the tension of his shoulders, and the way his feet aren’t moving. He won’t say as much in front of the entire task force but you’ve hurt his feelings. Fuck. You’re lying to him after you told him you wouldn’t and he knows. You’re going to get no mercy here. And he’s going to figure it out if you don’t say something quick. You have to fix this, without making it any worse. Your next lie needs to be a good one.

‘No-no, I-I’m not hiding any-anything. I’m probably just-just really tired. Yeah, I’ve not been-been sleeping very -wuh-well you see.’ Oh for God’s fucking sake maybe you are a bad liar. You pray to God he doesn’t notice.

‘You’re lying to me. Badly at that.’ The clicking of his nail between his teeth starts up again. ‘Something is very wrong here.’ He’s gonna figure it out. You know he’s going to figure it out. You can feel it in your gut. Maybe you can make a quick exit. A fast retreat. You spin on your heel and see Chief Yagami halfway across the room, watching things unfold with a concerned look on his face. Matsuda’s standing up but hasn’t left his seat yet. Your other three coworkers are still seated, but with their heads turned your way in interest. Great. Your humiliation has an audience. At least they’re worried about you, you guess? You’d rather they weren’t fucking here right now though. You feel like a rat trapped in a corner. Ryuzaki’s thoughtful humming from behind you is the same tone as a purring cat about to devour its prey. You pray beyond hope that the ground opens up and swallows you whole. Or that the grim reaper is real and takes some serious fucking pity on your right now and puts you in an early grave.

Ryuzaki’s muttering behind you is a mere murmur yet you can hear it ringing loud in the pin-drop silence of the room. Your feet won’t cooperate with your brain and you’re glued to the spot in horror as you hear him rattle off, ‘You’re distracted and unfocused at work, hardly paying attention… You’ve been rather short-tempered when you have been paying attention, RE: the shower incident. You keep turning red when I try to talk to you. In fact, your face is rather red right now, I can see the colour all the way down your neck. You don’t turn that colour when talking to anyone else. I’ve caught you staring at me instead of the tape several times now-I’ve got it.’

Oh no. You knew this would happen at some point but this is so much worse than you ever could have imagined. You cringe internally, preparing yourself. ‘You want to have sex with me.’ Ryuzaki says. Out loud. To the room full of your coworkers. To the room full of your coworkers who are all watching you. Including your boss, who you’re currently making excruciating eye contact with. Chief Yagami’s eyes are wide, mouth open in outrage. Like he can’t believe what he’s just heard.

‘Ryuzaki!’ He says sharply, in an admonishing tone. It doesn’t make you feel any better. You cringe and shut your eyes. You cannot deal with the scandalised look on his face right now.

You just know Ryuzaki’s staring at you, you can feel it on the back of your neck. He’ll be too proud of his discovery to consider the embarrassment it could be causing you to have your dirty laundry aired like that. And he phrased it in quite possibly the worst way. You want to die. Dear God, you want to die. Kira, if you’re watching- you start and then immediately stop, just in case he is watching. God fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck shit! You think, before mentally attempting to compose yourself to try to do some damage control. You can do this. You open your eyes.

You laugh, a little too loudly, going, ‘Whaaat? Ryuzaki, don’t be absurd. I told you I’m just tired.’ You spin around to face him, arms up all casual like. You can’t believe the sight you’re greeted with. This fucking asshole has pulled a lollipop out from somewhere, and is currently unwrapping it like he didn’t just drop a bomb on the room.

He wrestles with the wrapper for a second before ripping it off with his teeth. Usually you’d be taken in by this rather silly display but all it serves to do currently is light a fire of embarrassed rage under your ass. Like now that he’s figured out your true feelings the important work has been done and there’s nothing better to do than eat a fucking lollipop. You’re mortified. You’re mortified and he’s eating a lolly. Fuck Kira, you might kill him.

Ryuzaki licks the lollipop once before turning his head to face you and freezing. He seems a little taken aback by the wild look on your face. You can’t imagine how you look right now. Bright red face, mouth a stretched, awkward grin, furiously fighting tears. Ryuzaki continues anyway, like explaining his reasoning will make any of this better. He’s speaking to you but not quite looking you in the face, instead choosing to gaze just off to the left of you as he says, ‘I asked before how you were sleeping and you said you were sleeping fine. You provided no alternative reason as to why your work has been lacking and your attention has been practically non-existent. You’re short tempered when you are paying attention and while the current lack of leads could be a factor the fact that these incidents seem to be clustered around myself leads me to believe that you’re frustrated. Sexually. Because of me. You want to have sex with me and it’s affecting your work. I find this reason not only acceptable but the most likely. Yes. Your lie, and your bad one at that, combined with all the other factors I just listed tells me that you find me sexually attractive and would like to have sex with me. Or, would you prefer the pseudonym ‘making love’?’ Ryuzaki puts the lollipop back in his mouth.

‘Ryuzaki! This is not an appropriate topic for the workplace!’ Oh, the Chief sounds furious. Your face must be tomato red by now. You’re going to kill him. You’re quite literally going to kill him. Kira will just have to be jealous. You’re pretty sure you’re shaking.

‘Ryuzaki! You can’t just say that to someone!’ Matsuda chimes in, sounding outraged on your behalf. If you could turn around to look at him you’d guess he’s got his fists clenched in anger and a look of shock on his face but you’re frozen in place. Unable to look away from Ryuzaki even though he’s staring at the fucking wall. Why won’t he look at you?

At least your coworkers are on your side, and you’re not the only one who thinks this is wrong, you think, before the much nastier thought of, ‘yeah because they pity you,’ overtakes it. You wish the ground would open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Hell would be nicer than this.

Ryuzaki spins his chair slightly to face Matsuda, looks him right in the face. So he’ll look at him but not you? …You get the thought that maybe he’s relieved. Like this conversation isn’t going the way Ryuzaki thought it would and he’s happy to have an out. You scoff. Your face feels numb. All you can hear is the rushing of your blood past your ears. You’ve never been so embarrassed. You can see Ryuzaki talking but you can’t really hear what he’s saying. Robotically, you turn on your heel and start to walk out the room.

As your ears ring you can't’ help but pick up the end of their conversation, ‘Why not? I don’t see a problem with it, it's the truth. Their work has been lacking recently and sexual frustration seems to be the cause of it. I don’t think it’s a bad idea either. Sex is beneficial for both the mind and the body. Sexual frustration can hinder a person’s ability to reason properly and we need everyone in top form if we’re going to catch Kira. This includes Bambi.’ That fucking nickname. So you’re a benefit now? A problem to solve? Ryuzaki finishes his speech with, ‘They’ve done studies, you know.’ He’s still looking at Matsuda rather than you and you’re done. You’re done. You grab your coat, planning on leaving and never coming back.

‘Well then by that logic we should all be having sex with each other!’ Matsuda exclaims as you stalk out the room. As you brush past the Chief he opens his mouth to say something, but gets distracted at the last moment by Matsuda’s comment, instead choosing to admonish him for his poor choice of argument.

‘Well, given the fact you all are self-proclaimed hetero-sexuals I don’t see how that would be beneficial to any of us.’ Ryuzaki says.

You’re at the door when you hear him say, ‘It seems I’ve upset them.’ Yeah. No shit. You hear your coworkers say something to that effect. You hope beyond hell that he doesn’t feel the need to follow you out of the room and try fix things. You've been embarrassed enough for one lifetime, but then again Ryuzaki has never been the type to try fix what he doesn’t think is a problem. You’re surprised he even noticed you were upset even though you were near tears in front of him. Well, maybe that’s a bit harsh. He definitely knew you were upset. That’s why he couldn’t look you in the face you bet, because he was uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable enough to stop talking unfortunately.

Your house is located within a fifteen minute ride to the current hotel functioning as headquarters, but it is still an excruciating fifteen minutes of trying not to sniffle into your jacket on a subway train full of strangers. It’s actually the first time you’ve taken the subway since Ryuzaki started playing the CCTV tapes of all the FBI agents on repeat after observing that both the Yagami and Kitamura household weren’t suspicious. So recently you’ve been prefering to take a taxi or walk.

You’d only been a police officer for about a year before Kira had appeared, you weren’t even assigned to the Kira case before people started resigning. But your strong sense of justice and inability to walk away from those in trouble had meant you’d not taken ‘no’ for an answer when you overheard Superintendent Yagami and the others talking outside the NPA building late at night. They were discussing whether or not to trust L. Well, it was more like you hadn’t taken no for an answer after you’d followed them back into the building and ambushed them in their meeting with L himself. Or, Watari himself and L through the computer.

After being chastised by Superintendent Yagami for eavesdropping, and then watching in shock and hilarity as L in turn chastised him for not being discreet enough. He’d asked if anyone else might have overheard the conversation, and you’d replied that you were one of very few left in the building this late. That you’d gone out for some air just before the group had arrived and you were certain you were the only one around, and that maybe you’d only overheard them because you’d been deliberately eavesdropping after hearing the name L. They told you no.

You’d then taken the opportunity to make the argument that Matsuda hadn’t been a police officer for very long either. And that Kira was a bully. And you couldn’t stand bullies. So if they wouldn’t let you help with the official investigation, then you would run an un-official investigation. And track Kira down in your own time, or die trying.

The room was dead silent after your proclamation until you heard a tinny, bitten off laugh coming from the computer Watari was holding. Apparently, L found you amusing. L had then stated, ‘they sound as determined as any of you. Experience, while vitally important in all cases, is only secondary in this one to a willingness to put your very life on the line to catch Kira. We are dealing with a criminal who can likely kill without being in contact with their victim, and we have no idea as to how they do it. We need all the help we can get.’ That had settled it. And from that night on you were a member of team ‘let’s kill Kira!’ Not that any of them knew you called it that.

When you finally make it home you run upstairs, collapse on your bed and muffle a pent-up scream into your pillow. God that was so humiliating. Not to mention unprofessional. There’s no way in hell they let you back in after a display like that. You know Ryuzaki was going to figure out you have a crush on him sooner rather than later, but you never expected him to announce it to the whole room- hell, you never expected him to even acknowledge it! You’d thought before that maybe he already knew and was ignoring it but this is classic Ryuzaki. Forever surprising you with astute observations and a complete lack of social awareness. You know he can’t help it, so you never get mad at him for it. That is, until, you know, he humiliated you in a room full of people you respect and work with.

You huff out another scream and kick your feet into the bedding below you, before grumpily rolling over and curling into a ball. You’ve never been so embarrassed. You grab your feet with your hands and rock slightly before turning your face into the pillow again. Gods you wish it would suffocate you. You wriggle and grab at your duvet until you can pull it over your head. It dims bright light above you and makes you feel a little better enclosed in it. You feel tears prick at your eyes again so you hunker down and cry until you pass out from exhaustion.

You don’t return to work for five days. You know it’s unprofessional, and that maybe you’ll get fired but you’re too embarrassed. Choosing instead to sulk under your blankets, eat ice cream, and watch mindless daytime television in hopes that if you don’t think about it the whole entire thing will go away. Anger bubbles through you as the memory resurfaces and you scream, frustration ripping through your jaw and into the covers you have balled up around your mouth.

Your phone rings, and you know it’s work because of the ringtone. You can’t bring yourself to answer. It rings twice more before falling silent. You spare a glance to where it’s lying on the ground three feet away, surrounded by the work clothes you’d shucked off and not bothered to put in the wash or even the basket. There’s a moment of silence. You breathe out in relief. It rings again but this time with the jingle set for unknown numbers.

You heave out a sigh and prepare to leave your bed for the first time in the week since you started hiding from the world. You stumble over to pick up the phone and say, ‘what?’ in the most irritated tone you can muster. It’s Matsuda. He shouts in excitement when he hears you and you have to pull the phone away from your ear in order to save your hearing. Matsuda rambles on excitedly for a moment before his tone turns soft but kind of urgently awkward. He says something along the lines of,

‘we- I mean, the boss- I mean, L, No! I-we, URGH.’ He sighs loudly down the phone and then tries again, ‘You need to come back to work. I know you’re embarrassed about… what happened but I promise you that no one will bring it up! And Ryuzaki has an insane plan that you need to hear! We don’t even know if it’ll work or how he figures we’re gonna- listen. Just come back to work. Please. You’re the only one he listens to- No Ryuzaki! I’m not on the phone!-’ Matsuda’s voice suddenly gets ten times quieter and you know he’s holding the receiver behind his back to hide the fact his phone is on and in use rather than off and in a box on the table. You sigh through your nose and tip your head back, silently mouthing, ‘what the fuck,’ to the ceiling before pinching the bridge of your nose and bringing the phone back to your ear.

‘Listen,’ You say loudly, hopefully loud enough Matsuda can hear you over his and Ryuzaki’s squabbling. Not that Ryuzaki squabbles. What he does is more of a monotoned bulldozing of the conversation with all the reasons that you are wrong until he’s finished or you can accurately counter him. Usually you’d have more decorum, and not just drop your coworker in it for breaking the rules but frankly you’re over it. And really you don’t mind if this pisses Ryuzaki off. Serves him right, you rudely think. ‘I know I need to come back, but we’re hitting dead end after dead end and I just- I need some time-’ you start to say. You're cut off by a scuffling noise and you hear Matsuda shout ‘Hey!’ in the background.

‘Bambi.’ Oh no. Oh no no no. Oh fuck no. He is not on the phone to you right now. ‘Our coworkers have informed me that I acted inappropriately and embarrassed you the other day. That was not my intention. I regret hurting you, and I now know that I shouldn’t have brought it up during work hours.’ You shouldn’t have brought it up at all you asshat! ‘I’m very sorry for whatever hurt I may have caused you.’ But. There’s a ‘but’ coming you can just feel it. ‘However,’ Asshole. ‘I think I may have found our next move- no, I am certain of it. Some members of this task force have pointed out its risky nature but I truly believe this will bring us that much closer to catching Kira. Or at the least help rule out who is, and is not a suspect.’

You almost hang up. Almost. You don’t. Instead you say, ‘How in sweet hell does this relate to me, Ryuzaki?’

‘You’re a part of the task force.’ You say nothing. There’s a pause on the line where you hear nothing but your own breathing before Ryuzaki starts up again, ‘The task force needs you here, Bambi. You’re important. Crucial.’ His voice sounds the same, but you recognise the breath before he spoke as time in which he was picking what to say. You almost forgive him. ‘We don’t have enough hands as it is and we cannot afford to make any mistakes at this crucial juncture-’ Oh you are going to kill him. Does he think of nothing else? You take a calming breath in through your nose, hoping to stabilise your voice and emotions before you speak.

‘Ryuzaki I-’ You heave a sigh. Scrub a hand over your face. You’re going to have to face this, face him, at some point. It might as well be now. ‘I’ll be in tomorrow,’ you say. You deserve at least a day to get your shit together.

You hang up on him, turn the volume off and drop the phone back onto your crumpled uniform on the floor. It bounces off the soft material and clatters and against the hardwood. The battery falls out. You dive back into the covers on your bed and resume the show you’d been watching before that rude interruption. You know you said you’d be in tomorrow, but part of you thinks you won’t be ready. How could you be? Ryuzaki can shove his apology up his ass. Never have you been so humiliated and he doesn’t even care.

On the other end of the line, Ryuzaki holds the phone away from his ear, staring at it, wondering if you’d managed to hear him before you hung up. No matter. He chucks the phone at Matsuda without looking and calls for Watari to bring the car round. Leaving Matsuda to furiously attempt to phone you in hopes of giving you a warning.

You’re halfway through a new episode when the doorbell rings. Your head pops up, hair wild and mussed, eyes half closed with sleep at the sound. You don’t think you’re expecting anything. With most of your life having been consumed with the Kira case as of late you’ve already exhausted your take-out budget for the week. Evidenced by the several food containers littering your floor. You wince looking at them. You really should take them downstairs at least, lest you get mice. You wait for a second to see if you can ignore the door but then the bell rings with a second, exponentially longer trill.

You huff and get out of bed, drawing your blankets up around your neck and holding them closed tight as you shuffle towards the stairs. If you’re being forced to get up and deal with some super aggressive salesman then you’re at least going to be warm as you shout at him. You’re halfway down the stairs again when the doorbell rings a third time, and this time it doesn’t stop. What fucking asshole is at your door? You don’t know but you’re pissed about it. You watch the door handle jiggle as whoever’s behind it tries to just waltz into your home and you are going to rip them a new one. There’s a niggling excitement under all the rage at the prospect of getting to unleash some of your feelings on an unsuspecting stranger. You wonder if that makes you a bad person.

‘I’m COMING!’ You shout, muttering under your breath about impatient, unapologetic assholes as you stomp over to the door. You have to wrestle with the key in the lock because it won’t cooperate in your worked up state. By the time you finally get it unlocked you’re so mad that you swing it open with far more force than necessary and your hand bangs against the wall. ‘Oww.’ You’re momentarily distracted by the pain, looking at your hand as you cradle it until you hear,

‘Bambi.’ Your head snaps up instantly. Standing at your doorway, in all his unrepentant glory, is Ryuzaki. Watching you with what you assume is his version of concern as you hold your bruised hand to your chest. There’s a ridiculous, expensive looking car waiting in the street behind him. So much for inconspicuous.

‘What?’ You grind out, irritated that he’s caught you unawares yet again. Why is he here? You said you’d be in tomorrow.

‘Are you okay?’ He gestures to your hand.

‘I’m- fine.’ You grit out, turning your face away from him. Ryuzaki reaches out with a hand and you watch, frozen, as he crosses the threshold into your home and brushes a greasy lock of your wild hair back into place. A wave of cold heat rushes over you as you remember your state of dress. The greasy, unwashed hair, the large duvet, the rumpled and stained pajamas from all that eating in bed. You might be mad at the man, but you’ve still got a crush on him and you must look ridiculous.

You’re frozen in place as Ryuzaki slides smoothly past you and into your house like he’s been invited- no, like he owns the place. You turn, almost robotically as you watch him kick off his beat up, bent out of shape trainers and pad barefoot around the place. Familiarising himself with how you live. He stops in your living space/kitchenette as you shut the door and follow him in. Ryuzaki’s still looking around with wide, curious eyes as you say, ‘I told you I was coming in tomorrow. What the ever-living heck are you doing here?!’ Ryuzaki stops looking around at this. His gaze lasers in on you. He pads over, leans in close and visibly sniffs. What the fuck?

‘You need a shower.’ He almost startles a laugh out of you with that. His actions mirror your own a few months ago when he was stinking up the hotel room, zeroed in on some aspect of the case that you were all too distracted by his stench to see- No. You’re mad at him right now. You’re not going to be taken in by this. You choose not to reply. In fact, you can’t reply because the second you open your mouth you’re going to start shouting at the top of your lungs and you usually like to pretend you have more grace and decorum than that.

Ryuzaki scratches at the back of his head, standing there casually with the other hand tucked in his jeans pocket and for the first time since you met him he looks uncomfortable. Or maybe you’re just better at reading him now. You cross your arms and stare him down. He can explain himself or he can get the fuck out. Ryuzaki doesn’t look at you, staring at a spot on the wall as he says, ‘after you left, Matsuda and Chief Yagami explained the… erroneous nature of my actions towards you. I assure you, I did not mean to embarrass, or humiliate you in any way. I was simply excited about my findings.’

Jesus fuck. Of course he wasn’t thinking about how you felt, only himself. You feel your teeth grate at the admission. But, you already knew he wasn’t the best at reading people. And you also know that he wouldn’t apologise if he didn’t mean it. Instead he’d assume you’d get over it on your own time or not come back. You uncross your arms. His eyes flicker between them and your cocked hip before landing on your face. He’s trying to read your body language. Making an active effort. Try as you might, you can’t stay mad at that, at him. You wonder if he knows it. ‘You could have told me this tomorrow, you know.’ You say softly, all the fight rushing out of you.

Ryuzaki’s staring directly at you now, making an uncomfortable amount of eye contact as he says, ‘I also did not like the idea of you being mad at me.’ You stare at him. Everytime you think you’re getting over it, getting over him, Ryuzaki pulls something like this out of his ass. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was doing it on purpose, but you know he doesn’t think like that.

‘So you did this?’ You gesture between himself and the door.

‘...I came to your house to make a heartfelt apology? Yes.’ If it was anyone else you’d think he was being passive aggressive, but it’s not, it’s him. If he was angry he’d just tell you. He really means it. He doesn’t seem to see anything weird with how he’s behaved.

‘Ryuzaki, you turned up without warning, rang my doorbell aggressively and then tried to enter the house when I didn’t answer as fast as you liked.’

When he doesn’t say anything you throw your hands up in frustration and start to walk away. May as well take that shower now, since apparently you smell bad. At this point you don’t care whether he stays or goes.

‘I was worried.’ He says. You freeze on the stairs. He was worried? ‘That you wouldn’t come back to the taskforce. And I did, in fact, warn you. You hung up on me.’ You forget how childish he can be sometimes. But, you did hang up on him. He’s got you there.

You scoff at him either way, ‘I’m quite literally the least experienced officer there, and you’re L. No way in hell you guys need me that much.’

‘We're fighting an unknown serial killer, with an unknown, godlike method of killing their victims and our team is but a handful of people. I know that I upset you, but we do not have time for this bout of self pity or selfishness, whichever it may be. We need you. Your work and your time and your devotion to this case are invaluable. The same way Matsuda’s, Aizawa’s, Ukita’s, Mogi’s, and Chief Yagami’s work on this case is invaluable. I don’t know where you got this idea that your help is lessor because you have less experience than them but it is quite simply wrong.’ He scratches one foot against the other. ‘Or did you not mean it when you told me you were willing to die to catch Kira? Or, more like that you would die if we didn’t let you on the investigation team. That is who we need in this fight against Kira. And if that is not you, then you’re right, and you should just stay home.’

Ryuzaki moves across the room towards you while talking, and you think he’s going to walk right past where you’re standing on the stairs and out the door but he stops just before you, waiting for your response. You kind of want to cry, partially because what he said feels mean, but more so because you know it only feels that way because he’s right. You are being a big baby, putting your personal feelings above solving the case.

The fight is bigger than this, about more than you. And you’ve been putting your feelings above not only the lives of countless others but above the very concept of community driven justice and anti-authoritarianism itself. Above everything you claim to stand for. Above your coworkers too. Shit.

You look at Ryuzaki, waiting patiently a few steps below you with an entirely blank expression, like he couldn't care less which way you went. You breathe out heavily through your nose, make eye contact through your tearing eyes and nod determinedly. Ryuzaki nods back once, then looks away from you. You turn to go upstairs and shower. Once you’re out of sight you lift an arm and sniff. Oh Gods. You do need a shower. You hear a sharp but quickly stifled, ‘ha.’ from below you and your ears burn as you realise you must not be as out of sight as you think.

You shower as quickly and efficiently as possible for not having washed in a near week. No doubt Ryuzaki is sitting oddly somewhere in your very messy house at this point in time. You shudder to think of the observations he might be making about you based on his surroundings. The shower still takes you a minute though. You leave the bathroom in nothing but a towel and nearly drop it when you scream and jump; Ryuzaki is sitting directly across the hallway from you, crouched low in a squat, seemingly zoned out with his thumb between his teeth. He looks up at you and says, ‘you have a nice singing voice.’ Your face flushes with even more colour as you clutch your towel tighter to you. You nod weakly and turn sharply to go into your bedroom when Ryuzaki calls out, ‘Bambi?’

‘Yes?’ You brace yourself.

‘I’ve been thinking about our conversation from before and I wanted to inform you that I think you might be my first friend.’ That is… not what you expected him to say. His first friend? No wonder he’s so… awkward. Just how isolated has being ‘L’ made him? Your heart breaks a little for the man. Ryuzaki continues, ‘So I truly do want to impress upon you the depth of my regret that I embarrassed you before. Also Watari is in there.’

‘I-, you-, what?’ You’re so stunned you can’t get a word out.

‘You are my first ever friend, I am sorry, and Watari is in there.’ In there? As in, in your bedroom? When you do nothing but stare at him, Ryuzaki elaborates, ‘I was worried you would want to clean up to some degree, given your proclivities for chastising myself over the state of my personal living quarters, but I also didn’t want to infringe on your privacy since I apparently overstepped before, so I called him up to help.’ Ryuzaki’s looking at you with that innocent puppy dog smile again, like he’s so proud of himself. What in the world? How could he think that this is appropriate?- then it clicks: oh. This is revenge. For throwing him in the shower that one time. Just how long does this man hold his grudges for? He couldn’t do the same to you, so instead he’s bided his time until he could catch you on a similarly embarrassing transgression. Maybe he’s had no friends for a reason. You frown and then shake your wet hair as aggressively as you can, showering Ryuzaki in a cloud of very fine droplets of water. Two can play the revenge game, you smirk to yourself.

‘Oops.’ You say, with a closed smile before waltzing into your bedroom. Watari is, in fact, not in there. The room hasn’t been touched. When you stick your head back out into the hallway Ryuzaki is rubbing water off himself with the long sleeves of his shirt tucked over his hands. He waves cheerily when he sees you. So the whole thing was a joke then? Asshole. You think, not sure whether you’re more relieved, amused, or annoyed by this. Shaking the thought from your mind, you quickly change into acceptable work clothes and then gather all take out containers you can find. You can pick up the clothes later but if you know if you leave these sitting here it’ll gnaw at you all day.

Ryuzaki is gone from the hallway when you exit your room. You’re relieved he won’t see you with all this mess, that is, until you get downstairs and see him picking up singular items between his forefinger and thumb and moving them around in your kitchen. You think he might be… tidying? If you could call it that with the awkward way he’s holding things and the time it’s taking for him to decide where they go and then putting them there. Is this the first time he’s ever cleaned? …It’s kind of endearing… in an entitled-rich-asshole-who’s-never-had-to-look-after-himself kind of way. You stuff the rubbish you’re holding into the bin with as little fanfare as possible and clear your throat. ‘Ryuzaki?’ you say. He looks at you, dirty knife dangling, pinched between his two fingers and you gesture with your head towards the door. ‘Shall we go?’ He quickly looks you up and down before nodding once, dropping the knife into the sink as he passes and heading out the door.

The first thing you do when you arrive at the new hotel that’s being used for headquarters is apologise profusely for your absence. You’re brushed off in a way that feels practised and you can’t help but feel relieved. Your coworkers take the time to fill you in on the new plan as Ryuzaki crouches on the couch and stacks little coffee creamer pods on top of each other.

In two weeks, once the school term has started again, members of the task force including L himself are going to approach the people currently under the most suspicion and introduce themselves as L. The hope is to either eliminate them as plausible suspects entirely, or, in the unlikely case that one of them is Kira, to checkmate them out of being able to kill Ryuzaki or any other of the task force members.

You think this is the stupidest plan to ever exist, but you have no other. You’ve all spent the last three months pouring over facts and data and CCTV, then rechecking those facts and data and CCTV. Spitballing ideas and plans constantly and somehow the only concrete lead you’ve found is still investigating the families that Raye Penber was assigned to following. Every single dead end leads right back to it.

You understand the logic behind the idea. That if any of these people are Kira, then they won’t be able to kill the supposed ‘L’ without revealing themselves to the rest of you depending on which task force member dies. And you know that everyone will be using fake names and aliases, so if the theory about Kira needing both a name and a face to kill is true then you should all be reasonably safe while investigating them. The thing is, you’re less worried about Kira being one of them, and more worried about him not being one of them. That multiple members of the task force will be exposing themselves and their proximity to L, to Ryuzaki, for no reason. This is still an incredibly risky gamble, no matter how you slice it, but you also know it’s also the only gamble you’ve got.

After you bring this up, Ryuzaki remarks that every person involved in this plan would be able to recognise you all as police officers anyway, as they are members of someone in the police force’s family, so the need for absolute discretion is moot. And then he tells you that he already set this plan in motion a month and a half ago when he applied to To-Do university and made contact with Chief Yagami’s son, Light Yagami.

‘You didn’t tell me this.’ You say.

‘I wasn’t aware that I had to.’ The tower knocks over. Ryuzaki looks up for the first time since this conversation started. He leans forwards as he puts his thumb up to his mouth, rubbing his upper lip with it he says, ‘You’ve been unreachable for nearly five days, Bambi. Of course you’ve missed things.’ Okay, ow. That stings. You grit your teeth and look away. The room is awkwardly silent. Everyone is looking away from you two, pretending the curtains and ceiling are suddenly the most interesting things they’ve seen in their lives.

Sensing you’re going to get no help from the others, you look back at Ryuzaki and you say, ‘You made this decision over a month ago, probably longer than that with how smart you are and this is the first we’ve- the first I’ve heard about it. I know I’ve been… absent these past few days, but it won’t happen again. You can’t make decisions unilaterally. If you’d told us this before at least we would have had more time to prepare! Cover all angles! Make sure that you’re- that we’re as safe as we can be.’ Your chest is heaving by the time you finish talking.

‘Ryuzaki, perhaps we don’t punish them so harshly for this considering you are the reason they didn’t want to come to work in the first place.’ You’re thankful for the Chief’s interjection, even if it mentions the one thing you don’t want to think about right now.

Ryuzaki looks between you and the Chief, leaning in from where he’s crouched on the couch. Then he looks away and starts stacking the creamer again, ‘I didn’t inform you all of my plans before now as I was afraid that some of you would be against it.’

‘After I put cameras in my own home, Ryuzaki?’ Chief Yagami is angry now.

Ryuzaki pauses his stacking for a second, ‘You’re right. You’ve all proven beyond doubt your dedication to this case, and are not as resistant to my ideas as I expected. If we are going to continue to work together we’re going to have to trust each other fully. I’m sorry I didn’t disclose this right away. I won’t keep anything from any of you in the future.’

The room falls quiet and you sink into the seat across from Ryuzaki. He starts making a second tower out of sugar cubes. No one says anything for what feels like an incredibly long time.

You swallow and break the silence, ‘You promise you’ve thought this through?’ Ryuzaki nods shortly, not looking away from his tower; it’s leaning to one side slightly and he’s trying to readjust it.

‘It’s a net gain. Look at it this way; either we won’t meet Kira, and he won’t kill us, or, we will meet Kira, he won’t kill us and we’ll be that much closer to catching him.’

‘You really think you’ll be able to tell if someone is Kira just by telling them you’re L?’

‘That’s really just the conversation opener. I plan to interrogate Light to the best of my abilities under the guise of letting him join the task force. Although it’s not much of a guise if I intend to follow through on it. Or maybe I’ll just tell him I think he might be Kira, I’m not certain yet. It depends on how he reacts.’

‘So you do think my son is a suspect?’ Chief Yagami sounds more tired than angry.

‘I’ve been very clear about this from the start. There is a probability of one percent that your son is Kira. However, even a suspicion of one percent is worth-’

‘-Worth investigating in this case. Yes I agree. Very well then.’ The chief leans back in his seat and closes his eyes. You wonder when the last time he got some proper sleep was.

‘I truly do think we will gain invaluable information from this operation. Best case scenario, if your son is as impressive as I’ve been led to believe, we gain an effective ally against Kira. Worst case scenario, Kira joins the investigation team and cannot kill any of us without revealing himself to the others. No, actually, the worst case scenario is your son Light Yagami is not Kira but also elects not to help us with the case for any number of reasons.’

‘But what if Light is Kira and he just kills all of us?’ Matsuda sounds tense as he brings up the possibility. The chief doesn’t even flinch.

‘That’s why Watari will be working from a separate, secret location once Light joins the team, and he shall also be known only as another ‘L’, working separately from myself and the taskforce in complete anonymity.’

‘Oh because Light doesn’t know that L is only one person! That’s brilliant!’

‘Thank you.’ Ryuzaki nudges the top cube of sugar into better alignment with the rest of them, ‘Besides, as far as anyone at the university is aware my name is Hideki Ryuuga.’

‘…Hideki Ryuuga… like the singer?’

‘Yes. So even if Light is Kira and lets say he does try to kill me, A.K.A Hideki Ryuuga, we know Kira needs at least a face to kill, so chances are that he thinks of pop idol Hideki Ryuuga and kills him instead.’ Ryuzaki does not look at all bothered about what he just said. You have no idea if he’s joking or not.

You snort out a laugh. ‘You’re holding Hideki Ryuuga hostage?’

Ryuzaki looks up at you, puppy smile in place as he says, ‘Smart, isn’t it? There’ll be national outrage if Kira kills beloved pop idol Hideki Ryuuga, shifting public perception of them to resoundingly negative, ensuring any trial does not go in their favour, and we’ll know for certain who they are.’ His toes are wiggling in excitement as he says this. Wow. He is really proud of this plan isn’t he? It’s… cute. And you have to swallow your heart that’s suddenly in your throat before it shows on your face.

It’s so ridiculous you kind of want to laugh, but he’s right. As always. This is the best move in terms of spurring along the investigation; you’ve all been hitting dead end after dead end after dead end for months now, and this is a way forward. Worst case scenario you know for certain you’ve been looking in the wrong place all this time and can start over. Hopefully. Even though that sounds exhausting.. You laugh weakly. ‘Okay, well I’ll stay at the police HQ and man the phones while we do this in case anything goes wrong, since I’m the least prepared after having been off for a week.’ Ryuzaki nods like this was what he expected anyway.

The news of chief Yagami’s heart attack rattles the group; in the days after Matsuda is dropping papers constantly and Aizawa and Ukita are on a hair’s fuse. You think Ryuzaki must be shaken too, since he visited the man in the hospital but he doesn’t show it; the first thing Ryuzaki did when he got back from his meeting with Light was have your coworkers give him a detailed play by play of their investigations and findings. After concluding that none of the suspects were suspicious, Ryuzaki explained that Light would likely be joining the investigation team after his father recovered. He’d gone over the conversation with you all, explaining the traps he’d laid for Light and how he had effortlessly sidestepped them, as if he had known they were coming, or had thought about how he would reply to such questions long before they were ever asked.

Matsuda and Aizawa seemed on the fence about believing him, saying that Light was a very bright kid and that it wasn’t that weird he didn’t fall for whatever traps were laid. Ukita got straight up mad that Ryuzaki was still ‘harping on’ about this, claiming he had no solid proof. Ryuzaki reminded them that his suspicion was only at five percent or so.

You think Ryuzaki is right. Light sounds too perfect. Again. You’d had to take Ryuzaki’s word on this when he and Chief Yagami had been reviewing the surveillance tapes, having only gotten second hand information on what had happened in them, but after hearing about their conversation in detail you think that Light seems a little too prepared, that or he is a genius rivalling Ryuzaki himself. Which is such an abstract idea you’re not sure you could ever be entirely convinced of it. Sure you’ve heard the Chief talking about what a smart boy his kid was but didn’t all parents wax lyric about their child's talents?

You’re making your third (and Ryuzaki’s seventh) cup of tea when the news hits. Two cups and a stack of sugar cubes are balanced precariously on a tray in your hands when Watari comes pacing into the room and tells you all to turn to Sakura T.V. right away. The discussion about Naomi Misora immediately dries up at the sense of urgency in his voice. Sakura T.V. is known to air ridiculous, made up specials about the Kira case. They’re experts at fear mongering and stirring up excess panic within the general public against the express wishes of the Japanese police. Usually you all ignore it. You wonder what the hell they could be airing to grab Watari’s attention like this.

Watari grabs the remote and the telly flickers to life. A presenter appears on the screen and explains that the station and its staff are being held hostage by Kira himself and that they’re being forced to relay a message from him. No way in hell this is real. The presenter goes on to explain how they received several tapes in the mail- of which the first accurately predicted the time of death for two criminals, and how they have been instructed to play the second tape at five fifty-nine P.M. You glance at the clock. It’s currently five fifty-nine.

You can’t believe it. It seems your coworkers can’t quite believe it either: Ukita expresses this by saying, ‘’This has got to be another one of their fake stories, right?’

Matsuda replies, ‘No way… Not even Sakura would go this far.’ You can’t help but agree with him. The tapes must be real, or at the very least Sakura T.V must believe they are. Ryuzaki doesn’t say anything, too busy focusing on the television he’s perched in front of.

The video starts and the first thing you notice is how… unprofessional it looks. Maybe this actually is a hoax, you think, one they didn’t put much effort into, evidently. But then it can’t be a hoax run by Sakura themselves, because surely they could have at least typed the word ‘Kira’, considering they’ll have an entire department for graphics because they’re a television network. So a hoax, but not by them? Your entire world has zoomed into the television set. There’s a clatter and some far off part of you notes something warm starting to seep into your socks but you brush it off. If there’s even the slightest chance this isn’t a hoax then it’s far more important.

A voice on the tape starts talking, altered to hide the identity of the speaker. It predicts the death of Kazuhiko Himiba from Taiyo T.V at six P.M. Ryuzaki shouts for Watari to change the channel and Watari does. It switches just in time for you all to see Mr. Himiba collapsed on the news desk in front of him. Ryuzaki shouts for it to be changed back to Sakura T.V. and in the same breath requests Watari retrieve two more television sets. Watari broadly side steps you as he leaves the room and as he does you realise you’ve spilt both the cups of tea on the white-cream carpet below you. And that the liquid has been slowly seeping into your socks. Your feet are soaked.

You swear silently and side step out of the mess, shaking your feet as you do. Little tea coloured droplets fly off your feet and spatter the carpet below but you don’t even notice them. You quickly realise it’s a lost cause to try salvage your socks and slip them both off, leaving them in the wet pile on the floor as you walk barefoot towards the others, eyes trained on the television set the whole time. You stop just behind the armchair Ryuzaki is crouching on.

Either this ‘Kira’ is incredibly lucky and good at guessing… or they are really ‘Kira’, a ‘Kira’, because this tape screams ‘FAKE’ at you in big, bold letters and while the evidence may be real you don’t think that the ‘Kira’ is. This is a new ‘Kira’. A less skilled and experienced ‘Kira’. Shit. It can’t be the same one. It can’t be. You refuse to believe the original Kira would stand for this sloppy craftsmanship given the profile Ryuzaki has laid out, neither can you believe he would punish newscasters for speaking out against him- at least, not yet… You’re sure that is, in fact, in his plan somewhere down the line. All authoritarian dictators have an ego built like a brick house, that is a damn near fact.

This new ‘Kira’ informs of another scheduled death, more ‘proof’ as they put it. Ryuzaki demands the channel be changed again, and true to form the newscaster on Channel 24 has also suffered a sudden heart attack. You can’t believe what you’re seeing. Who would be so… brazen?

Ryuzaki breaks the silence, ‘They said they would be sending a message to people all over the world…’ His eyes widen as he takes in the implications of such a message reaching the masses. ‘We have to make them stop this broadcast or something terrible is going to happen!’

Matsuda lunges for the landline, ‘I’ll get Sakura T.V.’s phone number!’ He shouts. He starts trying several different phone numbers but all lines are busy.

Aizawa tries to phone someone on his mobile and then says, ‘My friend who works there has his cell phone turned off!’

‘Dammit! Then I’m going over to make them stop it myself!’ Ukita runs out the door at full speed. You can hear Matsuda dialling numbers into the landline as Aizawa curses quietly at his own phone, no doubt trying his friend’s number again.

You say, ‘Ryuzaki…’ Eyes trained wide on the television set in front of you, your voice sounds foreign to your ears, like it’s coming from someone else. Ryuzaki’s facing Sakura T.V. and Kira’s message is still playing. He waves you off over his shoulder but this is important. You reach out with a shaking hand and fumble a touch on his shoulder, ‘Ryuzaki…’ Your voice is hardly above a hoarse whisper but Ryuzaki must hear something urgent in it as he turns to look at your face. You can’t rip your eyes away from the television, you just stare at it, frozen.

You sit shakily on the arm of his chair as you mumble out, ‘That’s not Kira… I mean-, that is Kira, a Kira, but it’s not the Kira. Kira-Kira. It’s a different Kira. Do you- do you get what I’m saying?’ You can barely manage to keep the tremor out of your voice. You finally manage to tear your gaze away from the television and look at him. Ryuzaki’s got this solemn, urgent look on his face; eyes wide and focused on you, face tilted down, thumb tucked, worried, between his teeth, and you realise he knows. Of course he knows. He’s L. You forget sometimes that under all his quirky genius is, well, genius.

‘You can’t tell them.’ His voice is a hushed whisper as he nods with his head to behind him. ‘Not until we have a better handle on this. It will only cause them to panic more than they already are.’ You feel your jaw tighten as you nod at him sharply, settling in to sit more properly on the arm of the chair. Ryuzaki reaches up and pats your hand with his own, once, twice and you realise you’re still touching him, one hand braced tightly on his shoulder. You go to take it back but Ryuzaki’s grip tightens ever so slightly over your own when you shift so you leave it where it is and turn your attention back to the T.V.

The ‘Kira’ on the television starts monologuing typical Kira stuff and you only catch parts of it, vision zoomed out. Vaguely you note that you should pay better attention, but it makes you sick listening to it. ‘Kira’ prattles on about how they ‘hate evil’ and are working to create a ‘just society’. They sound like a cult leader, promising peace and security to all that blindly follow with one hand, and promising divine retribution in the form of violence for all those that speak out against them with the other. It’s authoritarian and vile.

‘Kira’ is bumbling on about the new world they intend to create, parroting the assumed ideology of the original Kira when the smaller monitor that Watari wheeled in, attuned to another news channel, switches to an emergency broadcast of the front of Sakura T.V’s offices. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch none other than Ukita accost the doors to the building, draw his gun, and then drop it before collapsing while fumbling with his belt-alarm.

‘Ukita!’ Aizawa rushes in front of you and grabs the small monitor in his hands, like he wants to reach through the screen itself and pull Ukita back to safety. There’s a lump in your throat.

‘Oh my… God! They got him?!’ Aizawa turns and starts to run out of the room.

‘Forget it, Aizawa. Where do you think you are going?’ Ryuzaki’s voice is subdued. It’s the same monotone as normal but it comes out several times quieter than it normally is. If the room wasn’t so dead silent no one would have heard it, but as silent as it is it rings loud in the empty space. Ryuzaki twists round in his seat to say this, so you’re getting up as to not get in the way when Aizawa stops in his tracks.

Aizawa’s shoulders are up around his ears, and you can hear the barely restrained anger in his voice when he says, ‘To Ukita, where else? And I’m going to get those damn videos and bring them back here.’

‘If you go over there now, you’ll only get killed.’ Aizawa turns to look at Ryuzaki. He looks… betrayed. You wince… but it is the truth. He’ll die. This new ‘Kira’ will kill him without a second glance… just like they did Ukita.

‘You trying to tell me to sit here and watch television, Ryuzaki?!’ Aizawa thunders.

‘I’m trying to tell you to calm down and be realistic.’ Ryuzaki’s voice is louder now, but his back is turned to Aizawa and while he’s looking in the right direction, his face is angled down. You realise with a start that Ryuzaki’s deliberately shielding his eyes, hiding the most expressive part of his face from him. You frown and worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

‘I want to stop that video as much as you do. And if we manage to confiscate the entire package the way it was sent, there’s a good chance we can track Kira down.’ Ryuzaki turns back to watch the television as paramedics transport Ukita’s body away from the scene. ‘But if Ukita was murdered by Kira, whoever goes there now will end up dead too.

‘This means his phoney police ID didn’t help him!! Kira knows our real names! He has to! There’s no other explanation.’ Aizawa is gesturing wildly as he speaks. He needs to calm down but there’s no way to tell him that without upsetting him further. You yourself feel equally upset, with no idea how to make any of this better. Ukita…

‘That might be true. But if you’re right, it would make much more sense for Kira to murder everyone on the task force…’ Ryuzaki’s keyed in, eyes trained on the televisions in front of him in case anything new happens. ‘I deduced that Kira needs to know someone’s name and face to kill them. But from seeing this, I’d have to conclude that seeing their face alone could be enough. All I can say for sure at this time is…’ He pauses, ‘…Ukita was killed because he went over there. It happened just as other networks started reporting from in front of Sakura T.V. And that means Kira is either inside Sakura, or some place where he can see people entering Sakura. That, or he set up a surveillance camera there in advance.’

You look between Matsuda and Aizawa helplessly, as you’re facing the room and not the T.V. you can see the strain on both their faces. Matsuda looks helpless, but Aizawa looks like he can’t believe it, or that he won’t. He shouts, ‘Well, if Kira’s around there right now, that’s all the more reason for us to go!!’

Ryuzaki’s head dips again, hands wrapped tightly around his legs, two fingers wiggling one of his toes back and forth in a staccato rhythm. He’s doing it so aggressively it looks like it hurts. ‘I’ll say it again- if you go there now, you will be killed. Please understand.’

‘No. I don’t understand.’ There’s a tight fury to Aizawa’s words. He grabs Ryuzaki by the collar of his shirt roughly. You flinch, and your hands try and come up to stop him but your feet won’t move. You’re frozen in place. Aizawa’s shouting now, ‘Ukita might’ve been murdered!! By Kira!! I thought we were risking our lives to arrest that bastard!!’ You want to cry. Aizawa doesn’t seem to understand that if you all go now, that everything will be lost. And Kira will win. Then Ukita will have died for nothing.

Ryuzaki clutches his legs tighter to him, he ducks his head even further as he says, ‘Risking your life and doing something that could easily rob you of your life are exact opposites.’ He sounds exactly the same as normal, except his hands are shaking, overcome by tremors as he clings to his legs like a lifeline. ‘I understand your feelings, but please try to control yourself right now. Ukita is dead… If you go over there and lose your life too, Aizawa…’ Ryuzaki doesn’t continue. Maybe he can’t. You can tell by the look on Aizawa’s face that he finally understands. That Ryuzaki isn’t being callous or unfeeling. He’s feeling exactly the same despair as Aizawa is right now, it's just an impossible situation, and Ryuzaki is attempting to save as many lives as possible. Aizawa lets go of him.

You restrain yourself from giving Aizawa a dirty look as you walk over to where Ryuzaki is sitting again. You know Aizawa’s upset, but you’re so angry at how he accosted Ryuzaki. You want to rush over and fuss over Ryuzaki to make sure he’s okay but you know now is not the time, and that you might agitate Ryuzaki even further by doing so. You don’t even know if he wants to be touched right now so you ask quietly, ‘Can I sit here?’, gesturing to the arm of the chair again. Ryuzaki nods minutely and you reperch yourself on the edge of the chair. You’re more leaning against it than sitting but you’re just glad to be close to him at all. Ryuzaki’s gaze is focused on the T.V. again, but you feel him pat your wrist clumsily before withdrawing his hand. You breathe in deeply to recentre yourself for whatever comes next.

It’s silent for what feels like forever but you know rationally must only be a few minutes. The only sound in the room is ‘Kira’ finishing up their manifesto and starting to talk about police cooperation. They say that Sakura T.V. has two more tapes. One to air in the event the police cooperate and the other to air in the event they don’t. ‘Kira’ states that the appropriate tape is to be aired at six-ten P.M. on April 22nd, directly after the police publically report their official response.

The next sound is so loud it comes out the tiny monitor's little speakers as a tinny screech and then a loud PFFT before the sound cuts out entirely. It hurts your ears and you squeak a little in fright. Ryuzaki tucks an arm around your midriff and leans into you, his face smushing against your hip and the hand that’s playing with his mouth bumping against the top of your thigh. He doesn’t stop looking at the television. You brush a hand over his hair and drop it onto his shoulder, so Ryuzaki knows the touch isn’t unwelcome. He squeezes you minutely in response. You know this is his attempt to comfort you amidst all the chaos and your face flushes for it, but there’s no time to be shy right now so you push the feeling down to investigate later. An armoured truck has crashed through the glass front of Sakura T.V. 's offices. What the fuck.

Kira’s video keeps playing throughout the interruption, which makes sense as it’s pre-recorded, but it is still jarring to hear nonsense such as: ‘If it is an official police announcement, no spokesperson has to appear on screen.’ while watching the front of Sakura T.V.’s building crumple like a house of cards as an official police vehicle bombards through it.

‘What the hell!’ Aizawa and Matsuda exclaim.

‘Well… That’s certainly one way of entering without anyone seeing your face.’ You snort in response; Ryuzaki’s dry wit during the most inappropriate moments never fails to startle a laugh out of you. ‘But if Kira got Ukita, there’s a good chance he’s inside. If he’s anywhere inside the lobby, this could be really risky…’

‘But who the hell is it? Someone on our side?’ Matsuda questions.

‘Well, it is a police vehicle.’ Aizawa answers him.

You all watch silently as a suited man wearing his jacket over his head and covering his face drops out of the truck. The video isn’t super clear, being shot from so far away, but the man appears to speak to a security guard inside and then runs off-screen. All you can do now is wait. Your hand drops from your mouth and you place it over Ryuzaki’s, gripping it tight in fear. There’s spit on your index finger from where you’d been worrying your nail with your teeth. You didn’t think to wipe it on your trousers before touching Ryuzaki but he links his fingers through yours either way. At some point during this, someone puts on subtitles for the monitor showing the outside of Sakura T.V.

Another police car drives up to the front of Sakura T.V.’s building. Matsuda says, ‘We aren’t alone in this… There are other cops who’re ready to stand up and fight against Kira…’ It sounds redundant to say considering what you’re viewing on-screen, however after the mass resignation of most of the officer’s on the Kira case at the start of the year, it truly had felt like your tiny team were the only people in the world actively opposing Kira. It warms your heart to see you are not fighting alone.

‘Yes, so it seems.’ Ryuzaki’s voice comes out slightly muffled from where he’s pressed to your side. His head lifts for a second as he readjusts and then leans back in, ‘When you think about it, the people who are in the task force are just one small section of the Japanese police.’ Ryuzaki’s head turns towards the other slightly, ‘Aizawa, you know Deputy Chief Kitamura’s cell phone number, don’t you?’

‘Uh, yeah.’

‘Call him. If he picks up, please hand the phone over to me.’ Ryuzaki turns his head back and looks up at you, ‘I’m going to need my hands back for this, Bambi.’ You let go of where you're holding him, and he retracts the arm that’s around you but puts both of them on top of your legs instead, using you as a makeshift table. He takes the phone off of Aizawa when it’s proffered.

‘This is L.’ Ryuzaki says into the receiver.

Logically, you know that Ryuzaki is L. You’ve even thought about ‘L’ in reference to Ryuzaki before but it’s still weird to hear it aloud. Maybe because you weren’t in the room during the meetings where he was still using the alias, maybe because ‘L’ still seems larger than life to you. ‘I have a request. There will be more officers driven to act on their own after seeing this broadcast. Unless strictly coordinated action is taken, we’ll have a major tragedy on our hands.’

Like his words are magic, or perhaps a premonition, the officer’s in the police car exit it and immediately collapse, presumably dead. The reporter on scene informs the audience that they will be moving to a safer location, but leaving the camera behind as to continue the broadcast. You listen intently as Ryuzaki-no, as L dictates his plan to Deputy Chief Kitamura over the phone. You’re hoping to help fill any gaps he misses in his reasoning but there are none. L rattles off instruction after instruction, covering all bases and possible weak points Kira could exploit before you even think of them while drumming the fingers of his other hand upon your knee. Just as L’s saying, ‘Yes… That’s right, they should never show their faces.’ Watari’s phone beeps, alerting you all to an incoming call. You keep your eyes trained on the television, you’re determined to help in some way so you’ve decided to focus on being alert to witness if anything changes.

‘It’s Chief Yagami.’ Watari says.

Matsuda shouts, ‘What? The boss?!’

L holds his hand out for the phone wordlessly before saying, ‘Yes, thank you Deputy Chief Kitamura. No, wait, please stay on the line.’, into the other phone. Watari is already dialling Chief Yagami back on a different phone. He hands the phone to L, who puts it to his other ear. ‘Chief Yagami, it’s me. So it was you in that armoured truck.’ You almost don’t believe it. The man was in the hospital not a half hour ago. You hear L inquire about Chief Yagami’s ‘condition’, which is obviously his recent heart attack, and then ask him to, ‘hold on for a moment’. You pray to any god living that the Chief’s not in need of medical attention.

L informs the Deputy Chief that it was Chief Yagami in the truck, and then tells Yagami to ‘rest there for five minutes’ before heading out. You let out the breath you’d been holding. The Chief isn’t hurt. Now you can only hope your plan- L’s plan works. You all watch with bated breath as several armoured trucks pull up in front of Sakura T.V. 's offices, and then line after line of police officers decked out in full riot gear file out of the trucks and line up in front of the building. With the trucks and the officer’s in place, your view of the ground floor from the news broadcast is completely blacked out and you are filled with a strange mix of anxiety and relief. At least you know it’s effective. Whether it will work on Kira is another question entirely.

You all wait with baited breath. The way the line of sight to Sakura T.V. is blocked is both an incredibly good sign and an excruciating anxiety inducer because you can’t see what is going on. You have to keep reminding yourself that that means Kira probably can't either, so it’s a good thing. The wait feels incredibly long, but eventually the door behind you bursts open and Watari staggers in, supporting the Chief’s body weight on his shoulder.

‘Chief!’

‘Chief, sir…’

The Chief looks bedraggled. Sweaty and slumped as he leans heavily on Watari. Your heart fills with worry for him. He raises his head slightly to look at Ryuzaki, and even that looks like it takes a tremendous amount of effort. He says, ‘I’m sorry for taking things into my own hands like that Ryuzaki… I let my emotions get the better of me…’

‘That’s fine,’ Ryuzaki replies.

‘The video tapes. The envelope they all came in. It’s all in here.’ The Chief is panting and holding a paper bag emblazoned with, ‘Sakura T.V.’. His face doesn’t even flicker as he takes in how close you’re both sitting, he just hands the bag to Ryuzaki over the back of the armchair before turning around to collapse onto a nearby couch with the help of Matsuda, saying, ‘Let me lie down for a while.’

While the Chief may have had no reaction to it, it doesn’t change how rapidly it dawns on you how unprofessional you both must look, but before you can get up Ryuzaki props the bag open on your lap and starts digging though it. You see him mouthing words to himself as he looks through the items, carefully cataloguing them in his mind before extracting them out. He hands the envelope to Aizawa, with a request to send it to forensics.

You can hear Matsuda on the phone in the background while Aizawa tells Ryuzaki that he knows people on the team, and that they should be able to get fingerprints, as well as maybe DNA from the stamps, as well as information about where everything was bought from, possibly including the make and model of the camera the tapes were filmed on. Aizawa also says he’ll be sure to make the team study the tapes without sound, so they don’t hear what’s on them.

Ryuzaki picks up the bag and drums his fingers once against your knee sharply, so you stand up. He stands to his full height on the armchair before clambering down and you’re struck again by just how tall he is, even slouched. He lopes over to the coffee table before putting the items down on it. You help him sort the tapes from the copies and hand the original’s over to Aizawa. Matsuda comes over to tell you both that he’s going to drive the Chief home and then come back. Ryuzaki tells him that it’s better to get a good night's sleep instead and come back tomorrow fresh along with everyone else.

Oh. Somehow, in all of this mess, you’d forgotten about going home. Usually you can’t wait to tuck up into your bed and sleep off the stress of the day, but thinking about it right now your house just seems big and empty, the last place you currently want to be, so you say, ‘Actually… Ryuzaki… I was hoping I could stay? I don’t think I’m going to get any sleep after everything that’s happened, and I started later than everyone else because I stayed late last night so I’m not that tired anyways. I feel fine.’ Doubt clouds your mind for a second that maybe Ryuzaki wants you all gone so you add. ‘Um, if you want to study what’s on those tapes yourself first I can put on some headphones and just work on acquainting myself with anything else I missed last week.’

Ryuzaki is studying one of the physical copies of the tapes on the table. He doesn’t pause in turning it over in his hands as he says, ‘you can stay.’ You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

Aizawa ducks out first, then Matsuda and the Chief make their exit together. You shout out for the Chief to get home safe and get some rest before walking back into the room. You walk over to where Ryuzaki is perched on the couch facing the table. He’s lined up all the tapes in a row, and behind you you can hear Watari setting up the VCR. Ryuzaki looks at you and then over at Watari and says, ‘We should move the couch.’

It’s not at all what you’re expecting to hear so you say, ‘What?’ Ryuzaki repeats himself like you didn’t hear him.

‘No, I get it, I heard you I just- why?’

Ryuzaki looks at you and then looks over to the television set. ‘So we don’t have to try and sit on the same tiny armchair. Why aren’t you wearing socks?’ Ryuzaki’s looking at your bare feet now.

Your face colours. ‘Yes, right. Of course. So we don’t have to share a chair. Okay.’ You’re nodding like it should have been obvious to you. Like you weren’t fully thinking about sitting nearly on him again. No, there would be a respectable distance left between you both now that there is no on-going crisis that you aren’t coping well with. You’re going to sit nicely apart. Like normal coworkers, where one of them doesn’t have the biggest crush in the world on the other. Like-

‘Your feet. Why are they bare?’ Ryuzaki’s looking you right in the eyes and you feel caught somehow, exposed like you did something wrong. Embarrassed you were yet again swept away in your thoughts, you splutter out, ‘Why are you barefoot huh?’ Your body feels hot. Nerves open and sparking like a live wire.

Ryuzaki looks down like it never occurred to him, and his toes wiggle like they’re saying hello, ‘I’m always barefoot. You take your shoes off because, and I quote, ‘the carpet is too nice in here for me to ruin with my muddy footprints,’ even though you never have mud on your shoes. You’re never barefoot.’

‘I-’ You look down at your toes. You don’t know why you’re barefoot. Then it comes flooding back to you in a rush, and you remember. Your stomach drops. ‘Oh shit. The carpet!’

You turn on your heel and sprint over to where you dropped the tea earlier. Ryuzaki chokes from somewhere behind you at your profanity. Shit shit fuck. You can’t believe you forgot- how could you forget? You’re so stupid. The stain is huge. How could you-?

You need something to clean with. What can you clean with? You shuffle through the drawers and cupboards in the tiny kitchenette and find nothing. You quickly scan the room behind you, just couches and Ryuzaki staring at you over his shoulders with wide eyes. You try the bathroom and as soon as you find something suitable you run back through.

You drop to your knees over the stained patch of carpet and start trying to soak up as much as you can. You can feel tears start to prick at your eyes. It doesn’t budge. Not even a little. Your movements are frantic, panicked and jerky, desperately trying to soak up the copious amounts of cold tea that’s been steeping in the white cream carpet when you hear Ryuzaki pad up behind you. His bare feet creep into your view before he crouches down beside you and puts a hand on your back.

‘It’s just a carpet.’ He doesn’t sound worried.

‘Yes, but it’s not my carpet and I ruined it.’ Your voice comes out choked, small and you curse it in your head. Trying not to cry over something so small, you curl into yourself, ashamed as a sob chokes rattles your chest and escapes wetly out your mouth. You’re not even dabbing at the floor anymore, just clutching what you think might be an old shirt between tight fists, as you slowly realise it’s probably Ryuzaki’s old shirt, given this is his hotel room. You don’t even know where you got it from. ‘Oh.’ You say, voice tight and small as you stare at it. ‘Ryuzaki, your shirt. I didn’t-’ Another sob escapes you, ‘I didn’t even realise. I’m sorry.’ You feel pathetic, body screwed up tight and small, curled over your knees and trying to hide your face from him. Your knees are cold from where they’re pressed into the wet patch on the carpet.

Ryuzaki reaches out and loosens your grip on the shirt. You watch as his long pale fingers wrap gently around your own and then firmly squeeze until you manage to let go. He takes it from you and drops it on the floor out of your reach. You cover your face with your shaking hands. You don’t care that they’re kind of damp from the tea, you don’t want to look at him.

‘Leave it. Watari will deal with it later. Or, housekeeping will.’ Ryuzaki pulls your hands away from your face.

You’re so embarrassed. Your face must be red and splotchy and you can feel your eyes watering with unshed tears but Ryuzaki looks at you the same way he always does. Like you’re no different. His eyes are set wide with curiosity as normal, the only difference is that he’s very close to your face. Like centimetres away. If you focused you could probably feel his breath. Is Ryuzaki… worried? ‘You said you were fine.’ The way he says it doesn’t sound accusatory. You worry it is all the same.

You nod, sniffing, wipe at your nose with your elbow. ‘I thought I was,’ you say weakly.

Ryuzaki looks down for a second, mouth a flat line, clearly thinking before he says, ‘What we saw today would have shaken up anyone. It would be weirder if you weren't affected…’ There's a pause before he says, ‘…Would a hug help?’ You nod, shakily and Ryuzaki uses his grip on your hands to pull you up and onto him, wrapping his arms tight around your back. Ryuzaki sits back out of his usual pose, with his legs on either side of you. He tucks your face into his neck and lays his hand on the back of your head. He holds you tightly, arms and legs pressing into you from either side, and the compression of it helps you calm down.

It takes a second but soon you feel calm enough to notice the mild rocking motion Ryuzaki’s doing. You don’t know if he’s doing it for you or if it’s just a subconscious movement. You sniff wetly against his neck and laugh. What a hellish day. ‘What?’ Ryuzaki asks. His voice is low against your ear and an involuntary shudder runs through you at the timbre of it. You hope he doesn’t notice.

‘Nothing. I just- I can’t believe how real this has suddenly gotten. I mean, Ukita…’ Your voice breaks, and you hiccup slightly.

Ryuzaki pulls back from you at this. Props you up with two hands on your shoulders. You take the opportunity to wipe some of the wetness off your face and try to smile weakly at him.

‘You don’t have to be here. It’s only going to get more dangerous from this point onwards. If any part of you is doubting your conviction, you’re free to leave. No, if that’s the case then you should leave. No one will blame you.’

You shake your head tiredly. ‘In for a penny, in for a pound, right?’ Sensing Ryuzaki’s about to undercut you again, you say, ‘I’m not doubting myself. This hasn’t changed anything for me. If anything it’s made me more determined to catch Kira- the Kira’s. To avenge Ukita if nothing else. Today was just… a lot.’

Ryuzaki nods at the conviction in your voice more than your words. ‘Then we should get started.’ He runs a thumb over your cheek then tugs pointedly at the wet fabric around your knees. ‘You should take a shower, Bambi.’ Ryuzaki gets to his feet and offers you a hand, the other tucked nonchalantly in his pocket. His whole body leans to one slide with his slouch and you find yourself unintentionally sitting on your knees before him, his hips angled out towards your face.

You’re suddenly hit in the face with how much you want to put Ryuzaki’s cock in your mouth and suck until he meets God. How can he be so attractive doing something as simple as standing? You think maybe there’s something wrong with you, swinging from panicked to horny in a second flat but maybe not normal is normal when you’ve suddenly come face to face with mortal peril. ‘I’ll have Watari leave out a set of clean set of clothes for you. In the meantime, I’m going to review the tapes by myself, then I can summarise them for you before we watch them together so you’re prepared.’ Face flushed hot with what you’ve been thinking, you tear your eyes away from Ryuzaki’s pelvis to grab his hand and allow him to help you up. You’re surprised he doesn’t call you out for spacing again but maybe he thinks it’s part of your mini-breakdown. Or he’s just being nice.

‘I- Thank you.’ You can’t meet his eyes. You can feel Ryuzaki’s gaze on your face so you duck your head and turn away. You practically run down the hallway to the bathroom with your tail tucked between your legs. You hear, ‘You’re welcome.’ as you enter the bathroom, so you stick your head back out the door to catch sight of Ryuzaki’s back as he casually turns towards the living area. Did he… watch you walk away? No. Couldn’t be. You’re overthinking.

You shake your head clear and step back into the bathroom. Inside the room there’s an empty vanity in front of a huge mirror with several white fluffy towels stacked on it; good to know you won’t have to go looking for those. The shower is behind a large glass panel which quickly steams up when you turn the water on. The heat of it helps you calm down your anxious racing thoughts and steady the tremble in your hands.

Only after you’ve washed all the panic away and are stepping out does it occur to you that you don’t have any clean clothes inside the bathroom. You know Ryuzaki said that Watari would get you some but maybe you were supposed to get them off him before? Your mind starts to race before you take a deep breath to calm yourself down. It doesn’t matter. You’re okay. You dry yourself off and wrap yourself tightly in the towel. The cold rush of air when you open the door causes you to pause before leaning out of the bathroom slightly, ‘hey, Ryuzaki?’ You call out to him.

‘On the floor.’ Is the clipped response you get. You can hear the television from where you’re standing, but you’re not sure what tape Ryuzaki is on. You look down. Oh. There’s a white t-shirt and some plaid pyjama pants folded at your feet. You snort slightly. Of course. Sometimes you wonder how the hell you became a police officer in the first place. You pick up the clothes and retreat into the bathroom to put them on.

The shirt is a soft cotton and sits on you nicely. You note it's the same shape and style as Ryuzaki usually wears with a distant fondness and-oh. You really are unobservant sometimes. You didn’t realise, because the trousers are clearly pyjama bottoms, made of a blue plaid with some gold threads running through them, and not the jeans he usually wears but these look like Ryuzaki’s clothes because they are Ryuzaki’s clothes. Oh.

You bring the front of the shirt up to your nose and inhale. It mainly smells like laundry detergent but clinging to it in an undercurrent there's the unmistakable smell of him. Unmistakable from the amount of times you’ve pushed him towards the shower but this scent isn’t a bad one, it’s more akin to the fond feeling behind a lingering hug or a wet day after a bout of unending dry heat. Familiar and welcome.

The pyjama bottoms are so long on you, you have to pick them up when you walk. You stumble only once while walking back through to the room. Ryuzaki has moved the furniture around so that the couch is angled in front of the television. There’s an open laptop on the floor in front of the couch and you wonder what it was he was looking up. One of the Kira videos is paused on the television, and Ryuazaki is perched on the couch in front of it eating a slice of cake with a small fork, one that seems designed for cake specifically from the looks of it. Ryuzaki gestures with the fork when he notices you’re in the room and you see that on the arm of the couch there’s a small plate with another slice and a cake fork on it for you. Ryuzaki presses play on the video once you’ve picked it up and sat down.

The first video is as Sakura T.V. described it, predicting the deaths of Seiichi and Seiichi Machiba at seven P.M. with nothing else on it. The second is the same one that aired on television earlier this evening. Once it’s finished Ryuzaki pauses the T.V. and then turns to you. ‘Earlier, after watching this video for the first time, you deduced that there was not one Kira, but two. And that this video was, in fact, made by the latter- that is to say, not the original. An astute observation, and one I shared in. What led you to this conclusion?’

You place your plate on the ground in front of you, then shift in your seat to turn and face Ryuzaki, swinging your legs up on the couch between you both and then tucking your feet into the ends of the pants. The edges of Ryuzaki’s mouth turn up when you do this. ‘Well… Kira’s never made a public statement before, right? At least, not one with words.’ You tap the end of your fork against your knee, thinking, ‘And they must have an incredible amount of pride, given what you’ve said on their motives before and considering the ego they’ve displayed; the clues they sacrificed just to get a point across to you… Points that the rest of us missed out on entirely before you explained them as well, and if Kira is as smart as we think then they would know that. So clearly they’ve got a thing about you specifically. Like when they killed your stand in on live T.V. and then couldn’t kill you after. It must have driven them crazy, trying to show the world that Kira is God only to have their plans fouled so easily on live television. Maybe that’s when it started…

‘And you were able to use that to figure out they need a name, or needed a name. So they’re baited pretty easily. All of this says they’re a very proud person. They’d have to be to think that they alone can be judge and jury of all criminals.

‘And adding in the fact that they’ve seen your logo with the voice changer and everything from back then and I just… I couldn’t believe that that person, that incredibly childish and egotistical and selfish person who has decided they’re in a heads on battle with you, L, would put out a video that doesn’t even have typed font! They just… don’t fit the profile.’ You shrug. ‘That’s the first thing I thought, when I saw it.’ You do air quotes, ‘This is a hoax. Kira wouldn’t put something so unprofessional out. Not as their first commandments or whatever- because that’s how they’d think of it. …But then they killed five people on live television, so… obviously not a hoax, just a copycat. The real Kira is probably seething right now.’

Ryuzaki hums, considering what you’ve said, and drums his fingers on the edge of his knee before saying, ‘Interesting... I had the exact same thoughts. Shoddy craftsmanship, the handwriting, the use of an at-home-video camera; all of this suggests that whoever made this video has priorities other than addressing the general public as a spokesperson for Kira or as Kira themselves, or they’d care more about the presentation. So there’s potentially a hidden agenda. There’s also the inconsistent sound quality, which suggests that this was recorded in segments, likely this Kira was interrupted while filming and had to rewind the tape to re-record those parts- whereas I think the real Kira would have recorded the whole thing in one take, no matter how many times it took.

‘This Kira seems to be lacking in both patience and technical know-how, as the sound quality is far worse than if they had just used a voice changer. No. It’s likely the audio was recorded on another device and then played back and picked up by the camera’s microphone. Plus, they copied the font I use when presenting as ‘L’ to the public, when Kira would likely want to set himself apart from me, as if Kira ever gets my name they will likely try to kill me and then villianise me. The font association between us would not be something they want linking us together no matter how petty they are…

‘Moreover, the criminal’s who are predicted to die in the first tape are both low-level drug offenders. I looked it up while you were in the shower. They’re the kind of criminal that’s only reported in gossipy magazines, not major news outlets. Every time Kira has wanted to make a statement, or respond in some way to an assumption that we have made and has been taken note of somewhere in the NPA’s records, he has used high-profile criminals that at their times of death were incarcerated so that they would be found by prison guards immediately. This makes me think that this ‘second Kira’ wanted to avoid any high profile criminals, lest the original Kira killed them first and rendered their predictions incorrect.

‘Considering all these ideas put together, I believe the real intention of these videos is to let Kira, the real Kira, know that they have a supporter out there with the same, or better, powers and that they’re willing to use them to aid Kira in their cause. In all probabilities, the second Kira made this video to get the original Kira’s attention and praise. They seem to be incredibly childish with no real regard for the value of human life, fitting for a minion of Kira.’

Ryuzaki gets quiet after saying all this, looking intensely at his knees. You think that he’s lost in thought when he snaps his head up to look at you and says, ‘You’ve got very good reasoning skills, most people wouldn’t come to such a conclusion so quickly. I see now why you became a police officer… However, I do disagree with you on one part.’ Ryuzaki leans over the edge of the couch to take another slice of cake, proffered by Watari. He immediately takes a huge bite of it.

You’re silent for a moment,‘...You see now?’

Ryuzaki gives you a sheepish smile. ‘I did doubt your conviction for a moment there-’

‘I already said sorry for-!’

‘No, not that. When you first arrived at headquarters. You were so… timid. Especially compared to the you that demanded to be put on the Kira taskforce otherwise you would go on a suicide mission to hunt them down yourself. After meeting you in person, I thought you would get a glimpse of the danger involved in this case and go running home, tail tucked between your legs. But you’re not like that at all, are you?’ Ryuzaki’s looking at you with searching eyes and you’re not sure what to say.

You should be offended. You want to be offended but he’s looking at you so intently with wide eyes and a slight upturn to the sides of his open mouth, finger playing with his lip like he does when he’s focusing. Like you’re a puzzle he can’t quite figure out and you feel… important and exciting. Like the world could end and you’d be just fine as long as he keeps looking at you like that.

‘You’ve got a lot more conviction that I initially gave you credit for, but conviction alone doesn’t make for a good cop, a decent one, maybe, but good? No. You need to understand how criminals think for that. And you do. I think with some training you would become a force to be reckoned with. You’ve got the makings of a detective about you, Bambi.’ Ryuzaki looks up at the ceiling, face inquisitive as he tries to recall something, ‘It doesn’t happen often- actually, I don’t think it’s happened ever, but I am quite happy to have been wrong about you.’ He flashes you what you think is supposed to be a winning grin but comes out far softer and slightly lopsided, like he’s inviting you into his personal world with nothing but a smile and your brain short circuits with want.

‘I- um, thank you…’ You say quietly. You’re scrambling for what to say in response to his compliments as Ryuzaki shoves the last of his cake in his mouth. He points at the leftover cake on your plate with his fork and a question in his raised brow and you nod, mutely. Ryuzaki leans over, places his hands on the floor, and uses them to ‘walk’ over to the plate and grab it before sitting up. You snort. It’s both incredibly childish, and a ridiculously casual display of athleticism. Very Ryuzaki of him. Seeing him be so normal helps you reorganise your thoughts and remember what you were talking about before he derailed you with sentiments of incredible sincerity. ‘Ryuzaki. You said before that you disagreed with me on one of my points. Which was it?’

‘Kira,’ It comes out garbled; Ryuzaki has a terrible habit of speaking with his mouth full. You watch him chew twice, very deliberately, then swallow. He points with the fork as he talks. ‘The real Kira, is not angry. At least, not properly. They're more likely ecstatic right now and thinking of how best to use this other Kira to their advantage. That is if they saw the broadcast. Which they will at some point, we just won’t know when exactly that is. But, think of it this way, Kira has just gained a follower who believes in their ‘commandments’, as you put it, with enough conviction to not hesitate before killing five people on live television. They also seem to have the power to kill without needing someone’s name. Kira has just gained an incredibly powerful ally. We cannot allow these two Kira’s to meet. It would be disastrous for us.’

‘Oh. Yeah that makes sense.’ You look back down at your feet. There’s a loose thread on the pyjama bottoms you’re wearing and you pick at it.

‘Don’t misunderstand. I’m still very impressed.’ You look up at that. ‘I think you’ve got a very good understanding on who Kira likely is, from the profile. However, you missed the bigger picture part of this, which is that Kira will constantly be thinking, ‘how can I use this to my advantage?’ We should be thinking of how Kira will be attempting to use this, but also how we can use this.

‘Now, tell me what you meant when you said, ‘commandments’. You think he’s trying to start a religion?’ He takes another bite of the cake in front of him, scraping icing around on the plate to get the optimal bite.

‘More like a cult.’ You snort. Ryuzaki just stares at you, chewing. He gestures for you to continue with his fork when you don’t say anything more.

‘Well… I don’t think it’s like, anything they’re trying to do on purpose, y’know.’ You prop your chin on your knees and look away from Ryuzaki’s eyes, chewing your lip and fiddling with your toes. His stare is too heavy, revealing. It’s like he sees into your head and how much you value what he has to say, ‘You said once that Kira thought of themselves like a God right? I just figured that’s how they would think of it. Their first public appearance. It’s gotta be important to them. That’s why I thought they’d be angry. Not only was it taken from them, it was taken by someone with the same powers but clearly less skill and intelligence, meaning that Kira is no longer special.’

Ryuzaki nods slowly, ‘I agree. How they’ve been slowly seeding their rhetoric in the public consciousness without actually saying anything is likely so that each person subconsciously tailors it specifically to their own individual morals. Actions are much easier to misinterpret and misalign with your own sense of justice than words. Any degree of evil can be excused if you don’t think the person doing the evil is intending to be evil. So having someone else, no less someone with considerably less intelligence putting out a message relaying,’ Ryuzaki does air quotes, ‘‘Kira’s’ intentions so plainly, especially with the killing of innocents involved, I do not think they will be happy per se. However, I do think they will be putting a positive spin on this. They’ve gained an incredibly powerful ally for what could shape up to be a minor setback. Plus, once Sakura airs this fourth tape, they’ll have all the more reason to be thankful.’

Ryuzaki gestures to the frozen T.V. screen, speaking with his mouth full again. He swallows, you watch his throat bob and you think about placing your hand against it and feeling the movement. The thought rattles around your brain, blocking out his voice and reverberating until it’s all you’re thinking about… Sitting in his lap, feeding him cake with your hands, feeling his neck as he swallows… Letting him lick the icing off your fingers, pressing them down against his tongue... If he would gag… If his wide eyes would water as he stares at you, his pale lips glistening with saliva, his spit coating your fingers and running down your arm.

‘-Bambi?’ Oh shit. ‘Did you hear what I said?’ Seriously, what is wrong with you today? Your emotions seem to be on a hair trigger because of everything that’s happened.

‘Oh, um. No, sorry I got- got distracted, I-um.’ You don’t know what to fucking say. You don’t know why it’s happening now of all times. Maybe because it’s the first time you’ve been alone with him since it happened; the last time you got ‘distracted’ Ryuzaki called you out in front of the whole room and told everyone you were thinking about fucking him. Your face heats and you have to sit back a little with how fast the blood has rushed to your head. Anxiety pricks at the back of your neck and your face feels hot and you’re a little humiliated and he hasn’t even said anything. Yet. You’re waiting for him to say something when you feel a hand brush the side of your neck and settle on your shoulder.

‘Breathe.’ Ryuzaki says and you realise you’ve got your eyes screwed shut, but you can’t quite bring yourself to open them and look at him. His hand squeezes slightly and you notice that your shoulders are tucked up around your ears, tense. With a little effort you move them back down. You’re mentally preparing to open your eyes again, embarrassed at being caught out and then even more embarrassed at freaking out over it when Ryuzaki’s hand slides down to your forearm, hooks behind your elbow and pulls. Your eyes fly open in shock as you go flying forwards with a squeak, Ryuzaki catches you by placing his other arm on your midsection as you move. You land on his chest with an ‘oof’ noise. His hands slide round to the small of your back as you lie there, mind reeling. Just how strong is Ryuzaki? He clearly practises some kind of martial art from how smooth that was.

One of Ryuzaki’s hands comes up to smooth over your hair and you go, ‘Um… what?’ He huffs a laugh breathlessly above you. You feel his chest contract beneath you with the sound.

‘You looked like you were panicking again. This was what helped before.’ Oh. That’s so… sweet, you think. Ryuzaki’s legs are spaced on either side of you, knees up as usual but all his weight is leaned back against the couch. Your face is tucked against his chest, so you don’t have to worry about hiding your smile from him. The weight of his hand rubbing circles on your back is more… distracting than calming, but your panic has completely dissipated with his touch. Maybe you were more worried about what he thinks of you than what you were actually thinking about.

‘I guess I was right.’ Ryuzaki says. His voice is a deep rumble with your ear pressed to his chest like this. His hand leaves the back of your head and his thumb brushes along the curve of your smile. Your eyes widen. Huh. Maybe you’re not as hidden as you thought. You feel your face flush cherry red so you bury it in his chest. Ryuzaki puts his hand back on your nape.

You should say something. You know you should say something, excuse your behaviour somehow but you don’t know how to. Your mind is racing yet somehow entirely blank. The only thought in there is chasing itself around, slipping between variations of ‘he’s so pretty’ and ‘oh sweet fuck, I can feel him pressed against me’ and ‘this is so… nice’. The last one is somehow more surprising than you think it should be.

Ryuzaki’s hips flex as he shifts how he’s sitting to make himself more comfortable underneath you. Oh god. He grabs the remote from where he left it. ‘You really need to work on your focus. I’ll let you off this time, since it’s been a rough day for all of us. But, really, think of today this way: we’ve gained an invaluable opportunity to move forward with the case here.’ Yes. The case. That’s what you’re distracted by, not… other things. You wonder for a second if there is something actually wrong with you considering everything that’s happened today and all you can think about is how Ryuzaki feels pressed up against you.

‘Can I put in the next tape?’ Ryuzaki asks, and you thank god for the distraction from your… distraction, as another thought has joined the relay going on in your brain and it’s the feeling of Ryuzaki flexing his hips against you over and over. What it would be like if he did it on purpose…. If it would feel any different with the proper intention behind it… You squirm slightly from where you’re laid between his legs, nodding at him and pretending your pussy isn’t starting to tingle with the thoughts that you’re having.

Ryuzaki calls out for Watari to ask him if he can change the tape, and you latch onto it for something to think about other than him and the way his arms are wrapped around you.

‘I have a question.’ You say quietly into Ryuzaki’s chest.

‘Is it to do with the case?’ He asks.

‘No. Not really.’ You cringe, thinking he’s not interested in hearing it but Ryuzaki simply hums and continues tracing circles on the small of your back with the hand not holding the remote.

‘Hmm… You’d better ask it before I start the tape then.’

‘Is Watari- I mean, what is his- your-’ you address Watari, who is kneeling beside the television in the middle of changing the tape, ‘-job exactly? I thought he was like, your liaison to the police but his role seems to extend much further than that. I mean he cleaned up the tea I spilt earlier and I just… I feel bad that he-you,’ you address Watari again, ‘had to do that for me…’

You can feel Ryuzaki’s gaze on you, and you crane your head up to look at him as you chew your lip anxiously. There’s a moment of silence where he just watches you; he’s obviously satisfied with whatever he finds on your face when he says, ‘Watari is my handler and, technically, my carer. He handles all the work I am unable or unwilling to do, which includes his work as a police liaison, and more to facilitate my detective work.’ You nod slowly. You don’t ask what the ‘more’ is.

‘Oh.’ You deflate slightly. That makes sense. You don’t know what you were expecting him to say. You kind of feel like a dick for thinking of Ryuzaki as spoiled when he was in your house earlier. Maybe it’s less he doesn’t know how to clean and more that he can’t, for whatever reason.

Although he is still certifiably rich given all the hotels, he also doesn’t think twice about sharing what he has; he lets task force members come and go as they please, pays for meals had while at the headquarters, and he normally offers you some of whatever sweet he’s munching on ever since he found out about your sweet tooth. Honestly, you’re not quite sure what to make of all of it, but his life suddenly makes a hell of a lot more sense but also seems indiscriminately more complex now that you know this.

The only thing you’re really certain of is that you think that Watari may not be the best person for the role considering he was content to let Ryuzaki sit unwashed for the better part of two weeks before you managed to make him shower. Then again, Ryuzaki is L, and he can certainly hold his own when he wants too. Plus, you’ve not exactly seen any other staff around, so there’s clearly more to the hiring criteria than you’re aware of. Maybe it’s something you’ll never really understand, or something that you don’t have to, and you just have to accept it.

You say, ‘Okay, but still I should have-’

‘I assure you that I am both paid exceptionally well and am more than fulfilled in my role here.’ Watari cuts in.

You start at how suddenly Watari breaks his silence, and immediately feel bad when Ryuzaki says ‘Ow.’, in a plaintive tone of voice. You accidentally elbowed him. You know Ryuzaki well enough by now to know that tone, if he has it, means absolutely nothing but this sounds put on. Petulant. You lift yourself up slightly and see him rubbing his side where your elbow dug in, with his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout. You don’t know if he’s putting it on because he is hurt or just because he’s fucking with you. You want to kiss the pout off him quite desperately either way. ‘Sorry.’ You say, lightly rubbing the area with your hand in way of apology.

The pout disappears, instead being replaced with his usual puppy dog smile. ‘I forgive you.’ He says. Ryuzaki tugs you back down on top of him. The issue is cemented as resolved when he smooths his hand over your hair and says, ‘Stop worrying about the tea. You were having a panic attack. You weren’t capable of sorting it yourself.’

You lift your head slightly, preparing to argue when Ryuzaki hits you with such a dry stare it makes the words die in your mouth. He continues, ‘You were scrubbing the floor with a dirty t-shirt and I don’t even know where you got it from.’ You shrink away from his gaze slightly, embarrassed by the memory. Ryuzaki places his hand on the back of your head and says, ‘Everyone needs help sometimes. Stop beating yourself up. Now, shh. And watch.’ He presses play on the remote and the third Kira video starts.

This one denotes the terms which Kira Two, as you’ve dubbed them, expects the police to follow in their acquiescement to working with them. They state that they want even more criminal’s names to be aired on television, with special focus on those who are cruel to the vulnerable or where people were injured, and that Kira alone will get to be judge and jury. Then they state that they want L, alongside the top NPA officials, to appear on television to make an announcement that the police are working with Kira. Which is obviously a ploy to kill L and hold the police force hostage in the case they disagree with Kira down the line or wish to renegade on their decision.

You snort, and say, ‘Fat chance of either of those things happening.’

‘Actually, the next tape says basically the same thing, with the exception of it being either myself or the Director General of the NPA who dies as penance for the police's refusal to work with Kira. And I can’t exactly allow the Director General of the NPA to die on my behalf considering I am the one who challenged Kira in the first place’

You feel like you’ve had a bucket of ice tipped over your head. ‘...Are you serious?’ You say, frowning. You lean up on your arms to better look at his face.

‘Why wouldn’t I be serious?’ He asks, gaze trained on your own. You sit up, hands on your knees and look at him appalled.

‘How in hell can you be serious? This Kira can clearly kill without a name! They killed Ukita and two other cops earlier tonight! You’ll die, Ryuzaki.’

Ryuzaki leans up on his elbows, ‘I know that. But if it’s my life or his, mine is inherently less valuable.’

‘Don’t say that. Why would you say that? There has to be another way!’ You can feel yourself tearing up. You curse your damn emotional regulation and the fact you cry at a hint of frustration.

Ryuzaki rubs his thumb over his lip while looking away from you. ‘I’m afraid not. And I cannot let another man die in my place when it’s me they’re after.’ Ryuzaki sits up fully and leans over to wipe a tear from your cheek that you hadn’t noticed escaping. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you so upset over this?’ His voice is soft, still a bleeding monotone but he’s speaking quietly, like he’s more worried than irritated. ‘You knew that this was a possibility, that in going head to head with Kira any one of us could die- would die, for the greater good. That’s what this task force is for. You’ve said as much yourself before. What changed?’

‘Because I don’t want to lose you okay!’ You hiccup, and try as you might to keep it inside the hiccup turns into a full blown sob. You brush his hand away from your face and try hide in between your knees, ashamed. Ryuzaki frowns. Even with your eyes shut you can see his concerned face displayed clearly in your mind's eye and only then do you realise that you’re a little bit in love with Ryuzaki. And you really fucking shouldn’t be. This only makes you cry harder. You feel his hand hover, and then gently settle on your upper back. When you make no move to shove it off, the other hand and both his arms join the occasion as Ryuzaki leans over and hugs you. He shows no sign of moving until you’ve stopped sobbing and your breathing is calming down.

‘...so it’s something to do with me specifically?’ He asks. You choke out a wet laugh, for a world renowned genius detective, sometimes he is an idiot. ‘I wasn’t joking.’ He says. That’s not what you were laughing about, ‘This is a serious vulnerability. We can’t move forwards as a team if this is how you’re going to react every time our lives are threatened. I’m sorry.’ Ryuzaki’s tone sounds final. You scrub your hands across your wet face and finally dare to look at him.

‘It’s not- I’m not…’ You can’t bring yourself to say it so instead you say, ‘I wouldn’t be like this if it were anyone else Kira Two was asking to basically commit suicide on live telly. I- maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t-’

‘I was right.’

‘Yeah that’s what I’m saying-’

‘You do want to have sex with me.’ What? Ryuzaki’s got his thumb in his mouth as he speaks. His eyes are sparkling, head tilted down, staring you in the face as he says, ‘And presumably more considering how emotional you’re being over my maybe death.’

‘I-What?’ You say. Practically breathe out with how panicked and confused you feel.

‘You want to have sex with me. I knew my hypothesis wasn’t wrong. I’m never wrong.’ Ryuzaki’s smiling like a cute puppy again and you’re so confused. It feels like the world has tipped on its head.

When you don’t speak Ryuzaki says, ‘I’m not going to die, Bambi. At least, not if I can help it; with the probability of this being a second Kira, I think we will be able to call them off by making our own fake Kira video. The only obstacle will be making sure that the real Kira doesn’t interfere and let the second know that we too are a fake.’ He’s staring at you, face expectant, like he thinks this information is going to make you anything other than angry. You cannot believe what you just heard. Ryuzaki knew he wasn’t going to die all this time? Then why did he- you think back to what he said before and a white hot rage rushes across your body.

‘Did you seriously make me think you were going to die just because you wanted to be right?’ Your voice is a thundering rage and you’re sure you’re shaking. The tears are back at the edge of your eyes and Ryuzaki has the gall to look surprised.

‘No.’ He says. ‘Well, yes.’ He amends. The look on your face must be pretty scary because Ryuzaki puts his hands up in front of him and quickly continues, ‘I did it with good reason. I had to ascertain if I was reading you correctly. I tried to broach you on this topic before but you went bright red, and it looked like you were about to cry and I couldn't decipher what emotion that was and so I kept going, in order to find out, but then you lied about it and left.

‘And I admit, I was rather confused and upset by your reaction because you had already promised me you wouldn’t lie and then you did. I didn’t think you were embarrassed, Bambi. I thought I’d read you wrong and that you didn’t like me. Matsuda had to explain that you were upset. Then the Chief Yagami informed me that what I did could be considered workplace harassment so I thought that was why you made that face- because you were angry. That put me in quite a funk, I have to say, thinking that you were mad at me.

‘I was planning on calling you to apologise for my egregious overstepping, but then Matsuda informed me that you were embarrassed for, and I quote, ‘having your dirty laundry aired like that’. And I figured it would only make sense for him to say that if it was true and you did want to have sex with me, but those two pieces of evidence are contradictory and I couldn’t reconcile them. So I didn’t want to bring it up until I was sure. I didn't want to embarrass you again, or make you angry or come anywhere close to harassing you. …I admit it wasn’t very gentlemanly of me to use your heightened emotional state against you but it seemed very unlikely another opportunity like this would arise. You play your cards very close to your chest, bambi.’

You’re flabbergasted. All of this for what? Annoyance prickles at your skin and you have to breathe slowly and deliberately to stop yourself from slipping back into white hot rage. ‘Pray tell me why exactly you wanted to know if I want to have sex with you?’

‘Well I think that’s pretty obvious, don’t you?’

You raise an eyebrow, as if to say, “no?”

‘Maybe you won’t be a good detective.’ Ryuzaki mumbles it around his thumb, towards the floor, but you hear it loud and clear. You feel the strong undercurrent of anger about to sweep you away again but it’s completely undercut when he looks directly at you and finishes it up with, ‘I want to have sex with you.’ Your ears start ringing. Surely you misheard that.

He continues, ‘I have done since the first time I laid eyes on you in the lobby and you looked so much like a startled deer that I nicknamed you Bambi… I was already suspicious of your attraction to me then. But then the case started to pick up and you treated me like everyone else. I’m glad you’re more comfortable around me now, because it allowed us to connect on a level I haven’t with anyone before, but I have to say…’ Ryuzaki’s eyes drift off to the side slightly, and you think maybe he’s daydreaming as he says, ‘I do miss teasing you and watching you scamper around like a frightened deer, always in a state of panic, it’s so cute. But then you just… stopped.’ He frowns slightly, but the expression quickly clears. ‘That is until you started zoning out while staring at me. And blushing bright red when I brought your attention back to Earth. That was fun.’ Ryuzaki’s mouth turns up at the edges, the start of a wicked grin in the making. He reaches out and brushes his thumb over your lower lip and you’re frozen, transfixed. But then he drops his hand like he’s been burned.

‘For what it’s worth, I am sorry.’ Ryuzaki looks away from you. You think maybe he struggles with eye contact when the conversation’s uncomfortable for him. ‘For tricking you.’ He looks up, ‘but I had to be sure. I didn’t want to repeat last time and have you end up hating me. You’re important to me, as a friend or as more. I won’t trick you again.’ You may not like it, but in some twisted way you do understand his reasoning. You sigh and put your head in your hands. ‘Bambi?’

You look up at him from below your brow, with your palms pressed to your face . You point a singular finger at him. ’I am so incredibly angry at you.’

Ryuzaki starts to nod, looking down, when you grab him by the collar of his shirt aggressively and drag him forwards into a kiss. His lips are chapped, dry but soft. And the friction of it catching on your lips feels good. You shudder as a tingle runs down your spine at the feeling. Ryuzaki makes a surprised sound low in his throat and you groan at it as you kiss him harder, before pulling back slightly.

Your lips brush against his and your noses bump lightly as you press your forehead to his, breathing hard. He says, ‘Am I forgiven?’ You pull back, cup his face and look him in the eyes before saying, ‘No.’ lightly. You brush his fringe out his face and press a soft kiss to his forehead. ‘Let’s go have sex.’ You say, before linking your fingers through his and leading him through to his bedroom. He stumbles a bit when he gets up, clearly not expecting this, and some sadistic part of you feels slightly vindicated at the motion.

Ryuzaki’s bed is unmade, and the dirty clothing littering his floor makes you feel better about the state he saw your house in earlier. Internally you question how many of the same shirt-jeans combo this man owns. You giggle slightly at the thought, hushing Ryuzaki when he makes a questioning face at you. This morning feels like an eternity away now, so much has happened since then. This, pulling Ryuzaki round to kiss him breathlessly, feeling his hands settle on your hips and then directing him backwards to land on the bed is the only thing you want to focus on right now. You push the other thoughts from your mind and clamber on top of him.

You settle squarely over Ryuzaki’s hips. You can feel the bump in his jeans where the zipper is; he’s not hard yet but you can’t wait to feel him underneath you. The thought makes you wiggle your hips in anticipation. The flannel pyjama pants you’re wearing provide no padding between you. You can feel the rough material of his jeans through the flannel.

You use your hands to ruck up Ryuzaki’s shirt, exposing his pale stomach and brown nipples. He’s so pretty. His tits are, in fact, soft. Nipples puffy where they sit on soft pillows of fat covering his pecs. You want to suck them. You brush your hands over them before leaning over and licking one into your mouth while rubbing his soft stomach. Ryuzaki chokes on a gasp and one hand comes up to sit on the hair at the back of your head. Either he’s sensitive here, or no one’s sucked his nipples before. Equally tantalising thoughts.

‘What happened to the timid deer I’ve gotten to know during all these months?’ He asks you.

You lean up slightly to look at Ryuzaki, his hair is wild on the pillow behind him, and there’s two spots of bright pink high on his cheeks but he seems otherwise unaffected, ‘I’ve got a wicked streak’, you say, with a shrug and a sly smile before diving back down to run your tongue over his nipple. It’s pebbled in reaction to the combination of your wet spit and the cold air, so you graze it with your teeth before taking it into your mouth and sucking. Ryuzaki’s hips twitch upwards at this so you do it again.

You brush your fingers over his other nipple and then switch to it, you run your tongue over his areola, then press your tongue flat against it and suck. You hear Ryuzaki whine from above you. You can feel him pressing his chest up into you, pushing his soft tits against your face. You press him down into the mattress with your hands on his rib cage. He thrusts his hips against you in response and you can feel his dick start to chub in his trousers. You run your tongue over his nipple once more before biting it gently. Ryuzaki whines at this, his hips rocking underneath you. You’ve never heard anything so addicting.

Your clit is sitting heavy in your pants, and you can feel your pussy clenching in anticipation. You sit your weight on Ryuzaki’s hips so he can rut against you but the denim of jeans is too thick; you can’t feel him how you want to so you reach down and lift your hips to undo his trousers. Ryuzaki hisses slightly when you pull the zipper down. You shove his trousers down enough to free his cock; Ryuzaki helps you by lifting his hips and he’s not wearing any underwear. Does he never wear underwear? Or are you just lucky? He wasn’t that time in the shower… You sit back up to look at him properly.

Ryuzaki is panting slightly beneath you, mouth a bitten red, nipples shiny with spit and raised, arms lying limply above his head, his cock is lying against his stomach, half chubbed with interest. It must have hurt pressed bare against the zipper of his jeans. You curl your hand around it firmly and give it a couple slow strokes. His hips jerk up into the motion, and his cock starts to fill quickly.

Ryuzaki’s cock is pretty. It looks good moving through your palm. He’s got an average length with a sizable girth that makes you clench in anticipation just looking at it. It’s fitting for him. Thick and uncut, tanner than the rest of him with thick black hair surrounding the base. His skin takes on a dusky tone where his crotch meets his thigh and you want to lick it so you do. You lean down and slot your tongue into the crease, Ryuzaki’s hips hump up towards the heat of your mouth.

You set a slow rhythm on his cock with your hand and his hips start to rock into it. His eyes flutter shut, biting his lip and relaxing into the feeling. Ryuzaki looks so fucking sexy like this your cunt is burning an insistent slow lick of arousal. He’s gorgeous, both his face and his cock. You never once thought you’d get to see this. You lean forwards and lick the head of his cock, before pressing a sucking kiss to the tip of it. You hear him groan out, ‘Bambi…’ You watch the muscles around his hips and lower abdomen contract, and he sounds strained. A large hand laces its way through the hair at the base of your head. You expect it to press you closer to his cock but he pulls you up and away from it. You stare at him, shocked, with your mouth open and tongue sticking out slightly.

Ryuzaki sits up, he’s panting and there’s a flush running down his neck to his chest that you want to trace with your tongue. You’re not sure why he stopped you but you feel like a scruffed kitten so you whine at him, forgetting you can use words. Ryuzaki’s eyes flutter at the sound and he pulls you into him to presse a soft kiss to your lips, then your forehead and then your temple before resting his head against yours. You lean forwards slightly, trying to kiss him again or to return to his twitching cock, but Ryuzaki holds you tight. It’s sitting against his thigh, angry and red looking and you’re not sure why you’ve been stopped.

You pull towards it again and Ryuzaki tightens his grip on your hair and stops you in place. You whine again and Ryuzaki says, ‘you can suck my cock next time, okay Bambi?’ You shiver at how plainly he says it; even though you’d been engaged in the act a mere second ago, the openness he speaks with stirs something deep within you. Your hips hump against nothing. You need him to touch you and you need him to touch you now.

Ryuzaki moves back from your face to look you in the eyes, gaze intense as he says, ‘I’ve got things I want to do to you. Things I’ve been thinking about since the first time I laid eyes on you.’ You swallow reflexively. His eyes track the movement. A smile starts to curl at the edges of his mouth. A shiver runs down your spine at his expression, eyes wide and dark, tracking your every twitch. You’ve often wondered what it’d be like to have the full weight of Ryuzaki’s attention on you, and now you’re got it, it's overwhelming. You feel like you’re going to melt under his watchful gaze. He asks, ‘will you stay still for me, Bambi?’ You nod shakily and he disentangles his hand from your hair ever so gently, kisses you on the temple before moving wriggling out from underneath you to remove his jeans the rest of the way.

You laugh, a hand comes up to cover your mouth and Ryuzaki raises a brow pointedly. You drop it back into your lap and give him a remorseful look. He smiles at you sweetly before crawling back up the bed and patting you on the head. It should be demeaning, but you just wiggle slightly in excitement, happy to be doing good for him. Ryuzaki’s hands brush down your sides, bump your wrists up above your head as he peels the shirt off of you. He says, ‘ready?’ And you’re about to ask, ‘ready for what?’ When he uses the same trick as before, he pulls you forwards by the elbow, catches your hip and pushes on it to turn you around. You land with an ‘oomph’ where he was previously laid.

You’re still reeling over how fast your positions switched when Ryuzaki’s grinning face looms over you. He leans down to kiss you but you’re still a little shocked so you don’t reciprocate. Ryuzaki sits back a little and asks, ‘too much?’ You nod and laugh a little breathlessly, ‘yeah just, maybe a warning next time?’

Ryuzaki says, ‘I did give you a warning,’ and you raise your eyebrows as if to say, ‘really?’

He says, ‘I’ll give you more of one next time,’ and leans in. He stops an inch away from your face, eyes flicking between your eyes and mouth in silent question. You close the gap and kiss him softly. He pulls back with his classic puppy dog smile on his face. Ryuzaki flops down onto his belly between your legs and places a wet kiss just above your belly button. You lean up into it, then recoil immediately when he blows a raspberry on the skin there. It tickles.

‘Hey!’ You push Ryuzaki’s head away instinctively and he gives you a goofy looking grin as he looks up.

‘What?’ He rests his head on your stomach. He’s ridiculous. God you adore this man; he’s so cute. You can’t stop the smile that’s creeping onto your face.

‘Is this what you were planning on doing to me?’ You rub your toes up Ryuzaki’s side and he shifts away from the motion, grabbing that leg by the ankle and pulling it straight. He pouts at you exaggeratedly.

‘Is that what you think of me?’ Ryuzaki scrapes his teeth against your belly lightly and hooks his fingers in the waist of your pyjama bottoms, ‘Up.’ He instructs. You lift your hips and he slides the trouser off of you. You feel the fabric on your crotch peel off the skin in a wet sticky kiss. Ryuzaki sits up to pull them off your ankles, and with him kneeling upright between your legs you can’t help but be in awe of how beautiful he is; all pale skin and long limbs, his messy black hair curling around the edges of his face, how soft the lines of his features are, sloping gently into each other with finesse and ease, the sharp contrast between his black hair and pale skin, the dark circles under his eyes throwing his face into sharp relief against the light and making them stand out. He’s stunning. And you are so, so incredibly lucky.

You sit up on your elbows. Ryuzaki inhales visibly when he sees your cunt for the first time, sticky and wet for him. You watch his pupils dilate and his chest stutter and expand. He leans forward and swipes his thumb down the sticky line of your pussy, parting your lips with a smooth motion, stopping when his thumb comes to rest over your entrance. He can feel the clenching motion your pussy makes at the pressure as it tries to swallow his thumb, eager for stimulation. He doesn’t take his eyes off you as he takes back his hand and settles on his elbows before you. You watch him settle then resettle from your vantage point leaning up on your elbows, seemingly unable to get comfortable. He reaches down and re-adjusts his cock between himself and the bedspread, then he drops his forehead to the crease of your thigh, breath ghosting over your pussy as you see his hips rock into his grip and he moans, mouth open.

It’s an unbearable tease, the wet heat of his mouth so close to where you need it and your hips rock up towards him. You feel his breath puff against your cunt in staccato bursts as he laughs so you ask, ‘What?’ Well, more whine it. Ryuzaki settles his head to the side and brings his hands up to rest on your hips.

He looks up at you, brows pinched and you can feel your clit twitch at the pained expression on his face as he mutters, ‘You’re going to be the death of me,’ before dipping his head to lay a wet kiss briefly over the top of your clit. He groans as it jumps towards his face and you squeal in response, rocking your hips away from and then into the sensation. It sends a sharp shock through you and then burns with the ghost of the sensation once his lips leave. You whine, feeling more desperate by the second as your hips chase the sensation where his mouth once was. Ryuzaki is staring at your pussy with an intensity he usually reserves for interesting cases or sweets so you start to squirm in place, unable to keep your hips still.

‘...Please?’ You say, and tilt your hips up deliberately, pleadingly. Ryuzaki parts your swollen lips with his thumb, running it down the seam of your cunt before leaning in and swiping his tongue up the length of you. He curls it around your clit at the top and then repeats the motion, once, twice, a third time. You throw your head back and try not to squirm too much, rock your hips back and forth against his face while moaning in the back of your throat, little ‘uh, uh, uh’s that you don’t care to quieten. His tongue is so wet and hot. It feels good.

You feel Ryuzaki’s fingers brush against your folds, then you feel two of them rub gently over your entrance, not pushing in, just providing a pressure and a friction that makes you cant your hips down into the motion. You moan, high pitched, as he rubs little circles there while making out messily with your clit.

‘Ryu-’

He pulls back for just long enough to breathe out, ‘Call me L,’ before resealing his mouth around your clit. You giggle at first before realising he’s serious when he locks eyes with you, previously having had them shut while enjoying his meal.

‘Ryuzaki, what?’ You ask breathlessly. Ryuzaki, or L you suppose, grazes his teeth over the hood of your clit in response, before humming noncommittally and sealing his lips around it to suck hard. You moan hoarsely, thighs coming up to clamp around his face. He taps the palm of his free hand repeatedly against the top of your thigh and with some conscious effort you relax them away from his face. He detaches from your clit with a wet pop and between licks says,

‘Call, me, L.’ Oh. So he was serious then. Honestly, you don't care what he wants to be called right now as long as he puts his mouth back where it was. ‘Do you want my fingers inside?’ L presses in slightly with the fingers circling your entrance, rubs them back and forth teasingly. You keen, bear down with your hips.

‘Yes Please, L. Please can you- can you put your mouth back on me- on my- please just- oh fuck L.’

You moan hoarsely as he puts his mouth back on your clit, brushing his tongue up and down before swirling it and sucking while his two fingers slowly breach you. You try to hump down onto them and he stops about an inch in. You whine, lifting your head to look at him but he’s got his eyes closed. You take in a deliberate lungful of air and slow the rocking of your hips back to its regular gentle wave. Ryuzaki- L groans out his approval into your pussy and his fingers start to move forwards again.

The stretch is delicious. His fingers are much longer than yours and reach deeper than you can on your own. The friction feels like a trail of fire is being stroked deep in your cunt. L starts curling his fingers up against the inside of your pussy, while returning to a suckling motion on your clit with his mouth, his tongue pressed against the bottom of your clit. The rhythmic pushing and pull between L stroking hot fire deep inside you and bathing your clit in rolling waves of pleasure shunts you towards the edge far faster than you expected and you can feel your cunt clench in anticipation, feel it spasm around the pressure building behind his fingers and your clit.

Your breath’s spilling out in gasps and moans, airy little ‘ah, ah, ah's' that L responds to by pulling his head away from your clit slightly without letting go of the suction. He keeps the same rhythm with his fingers, drawing lines of fire inside you that spark up your spine and make you jolt in his grasp. You manage to get out, ‘Ryuzaki-L I’m- I’m gonna-’ before you cum against his face. Body scrunching up around his head, your thighs come together and you let out a hoarse moan as you convulse. Your cunt grips his fingers in a vise grip and white hot pleasure spreads through your body in a tingling wave.

Distantly, you can hear yourself moaning but you’re too caught up in it to care about how loud you’re being. L licks and sucks his way though your orgasm and as the pleasure starts to fade into oversensitive little shockwaves that make you shake and twitch away from the pressure of his hot wet mouth you notice the mattress is shaking. In rhythmic, shuddering motions the bed frame squeaks and you realise that at some point during your orgasm L has started humping the bed.

‘L- L come up-, come up here.’ You’re breathless in the aftermath of your orgasm, flopping your hand towards yourself, jelly-like, as you gesture for L to climb up the bed towards you. L pets a hand through your wet pubic hair like it's a cat as he sits up onto all fours. His cock is an angry red, bobbing beneath him as he licks his lips. He crawls up your body and flops on top of you. His cock bumps against the hot sticky flesh of your cunt and you jerk away, the stimulation being too much too soon. He readjusts it with one of his hands so it sits in the crease of your thigh instead. You giggle, feeling a little delirious off your orgasm.

L’s face swims into your vision; his usual wide-eyed stare is shuttered slightly with want, eyelids lowered yet still fixing you with the full intensity of his curiosity. He’s smiling like a puppy again, the look on his face being a mix of incredibly satisfied and deeply hungry. The whole lower half of his face is wet, and it strings up one of his cheeks and is clumping the edge of his eyelashes together. You say, ‘you’ve got a little something…’ And reach up to wipe the cum off his face. He grabs your wrist when you pull your hand back and sucks your thumb into his mouth, before bringing your hand back to his face. L uses your hand to wipe some of the wetness off around his mouth, then he sucks the cum off your fingers before bringing your hand back to his face and leaving it there. You take the hint and start wiping the rest of your slick off his face to feed it to him slowly. L smiles happily the whole time, nuzzling into your grip and chasing your fingers with his tongue when you pull them back; you can feel arousal starting to buzz behind your clit again, squirming your hips where you’re laid.

L leans over and kisses you. The movement of his lips against yours is heavy, laced with need and his hips make shuddering little humping movements against the crease of your thigh. ‘L,’ You breathe.

‘Bambi,’ He replies. You colour at the nickname, flush with heat because even though you just came on his face L still has the ability to make you nervous. Twitchy with want and need. Your hips tilt up into the pressure of his own as your clit twitches alongside your anticipation. He brushes his nose against yours sweetly and your heart melts slightly. Your cunt clenches in a want-need-give kind of way- you want him in you. You just have to open your mouth and tell him. ‘L- can- will- do you want- ?’ You try get the sentence out but your throat has swallowed your tongue and you don’t know how to get it back. You can feel the flush in your face spread, burning along to your ears and down your neck as you stutter, embarrassed.

‘Yes Bambi? What is it?’ L noses his way along your face, practically breathes the words into your ear with a low hum but you know the question is anything other than genuine. If he was actually curious he’d be looking at you. This man knows exactly what you want; he’s just enjoying watching you squirm. You know this because as soon as you opened your stuttering mouth, L had brushed his hand over your stomach and petted gently over the top of your clit, feeling it twitch in interest and your hips hitch up into the motion.

‘L,’ You draw out the syllable into a whine, rock your hips up to try entice him into fucking you without having to say it. L leans up on his elbows to watch your face, traces an invisible pattern over the curve of your cheeks and around your eyes, brushes his thumb over your mouth. ‘What is it, Bambi? What do you want?’

‘Please?’ You try. His breath ghosts over your face as he lays a gentle kiss against your forehead. You whine, high in the back of your throat in protest.

‘What? Is that not what you wanted?’ L sounds entirely sincere when he says it, enough so that you’d be tempted to believe him if it wasn’t for the way he’s started rubbing his cock in a burning hot line across the fat of your cunt. Shifting his hips in a slow rotation over the wetness steadily leaking from your drooling pussy and dragging it up in a hot burn over your clit.

You gasp wetly, rock your hips into L’s with a shudder and then cry out when he rudely leans back, pulls his cock away from your pussy with a grunt and sits up. You’re left reaching out for him, arms feeling empty now he’s no longer in them, hips rocking into nothing, tears pricking at your eyes from being denied again when you had him so close to you. L wraps a hand around his shiny wet cock, pulls his foreskin over the head of it in a slow, curling stroke.

‘You have to tell me what you want, Bambi. Otherwise how am I supposed to know? I’m not a mindreader after all.’

‘You know what I want!’ You’ve never felt more small than you do right now, close to throwing a tantrum you feel desperate. Desperate to please him, desperate to be filled, desperate enough to choke out, ‘L, please… Fuck me I need it.’ In a whiny voice while fighting back tears.

‘Well done, Bambi.’ L says. He speaks in the same monotone as usual but the words wash over you warmly anyway, you know him well enough by now to know L wouldn’t give the praise if he didn’t mean it. Almost as if to prove that point L crawls back over you and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. You sniffle back your tears and curl into the heat of his body lying over you. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him as close as you can.

L presses a kiss against the side of your temple, braces one arm by the side of your head and then reaches down to line himself up with the other. You shudder as you feel the hot head of his cock bump your entrance. The heat of it rubs a long line up and then down your cunt. You whine and cant your hips up into him pleadingly. He huffs out a hot breath, you feel it flutter your hair. L’s face tilts away from yours, preoccupied watching his cock rub over your clit. You turn your head to the side and kiss his elbow.

You can see the muscles in L’s arm working to keep him upright above you, see his tendons straining in the tense of his fist. His wiry build and athleticism never fails to surprise you even though you know he has to practise some kind of martial art from how easily he’s been tossing you around.

You hear L groan and his hips stutter as you feel the hot heavy pressure of his cock press against your entrance again, this time with purpose. Your pussy clenches in anticipation and your hips squirm forwards to meet him. Press yourself as close as possible, bear down with your hips where L’s lining up to meet you. The head of his cock catches and you feel your pussy pulse and try suck him in as the hot heat of his cock breaches you. The stretch is tantalising, delicious. The head of his cock head rubs over something hot and electric, back and forth just inside you as L’s hips rock slightly and you hear him moan, low in his throat above you.

You rub your nose against the sweaty crease of his arm before turning to look for his face. L looks divine above you, wide eyes narrowed with pleasure, forehead pinched and red mouth hanging open. His cock slides deeper within you and he pants heavy against your temple. You can feel the walls of your cunt stretch open, splitting around the thick line of his cock. L pulls out slightly and then rocks back in, fucking your cunt open with slow gentle grinds of his cock. The drag of it inside you burns deliciously, you rock your hips into the motion.

You whine, wrap an arm around L’s neck and tug to pull him in for a kiss and L collapses onto you with a grunt. The force of it sheaths the rest of his cock in your cunt in one swift motion and you throw your head back with a hoarse cry. L’s long body blankets yours, his shoulder is pressed up against your chin, arms bracketing your head, you can hear him panting roughly above your head. You’re so full. You feel like you’re going to break in the best possible way. L’s cock is a searing stretch of heat and thickness inside of you. You can’t stop squirming underneath him. Every press of his naked, sweaty body along the length of yours is electric.

L pants into your neck as he rocks his hips imperceptibly against yours. Little pulsing grinds. You hear him whine, feel it vibrate through his throat, high pitched as he forces his hips to a stop, trying to give you some time to adjust to the stretch of his cock. You crane your head back and press your lips against his jaw, you’re so close you could count his eyelashes, his eyes are screwed shut tight. He’s so cute.

You can only imagine what this feels like for him. Your cunt contracts hotly at the thought and you clench down on Ryuzaki’s cock unintentionally. He chokes. His hips make an aborted thrust against you, pressing his hips into you as firmly as he can, pushing your pussy to its limits and stretching you impossibly further. You can feel his cock grinding against your cervix. It feels so good. You moan, gasp his name and toss your head back.

L puffs out hot breaths against the top of your head, biceps flexing. He tries to pick himself back up off of you as tremors travel up his spine. You reach round his shoulders to pet at the back of his head, before combing your hands through the sweaty hair on the nap of his neck. L chokes out, ‘sorry,’ and lays a messy, open mouthed kiss against your temple. ‘Can I-‘ He groans and his lips slide wetly down your cheek; you think he’s drooling a little. ‘Can I move please?’

You thread your hand through hair at the back of L’s head and pull him up, the skin of his chest sticks slightly as it peels away from yours. His moan sounds like it’s punched out of his chest when you breathe out the word ‘yes’ against his lips. You pull your legs back up over his hips so they settle in the air behind the small of his back. The shift in position pulls your cunt tighter around L’s cock and you feel him rasp a groan against your lips as you whine at the feeling. Your clit twitches with electricity at the sound. His cock is so hot and heavy inside you, the stretch is delicious. Your hips rock subtly to grind his cock in against the deepest part of you; you need L to move and you need him to move now.

L’s fingers scramble for grasp over your shoulders and his grip tightens on you as he starts to rock his hips back and forth. The movement’s subtle, more of a pulsing grind than a thrust. You can feel your heartbeat in your clit, it thrumbs steadily and pulses in time with each inward press of his hips. L rests his forehead against yours, his breath ghosting over your face. You whine loudly, feeling the head of his cock grind against the deepest part of you repeatedly. The hot heavy weight of his cock stretches you out and you can feel your pussy flutter and swallow rhythmically around the solid feel of him. But you want more, you need more. You pant out, ‘L, L, fuck me.’

You feel rather than hear L groan and then he stops moving entirely. He presses his lips against yours shortly and you whine into his mouth, circle your hips to try entice him into moving. L moans, breath catching on your cheek and chest convulsing against yours before you feel him suck in air and lift his upper half off of you. You have to focus to hear what he’s muttering over your disappointed whine, ‘…considerably more vulgar.’ L’s hand strokes your sweaty hair back from your face and says, ‘I do think we’re going to enjoy our time together.’ He punctuates his sentence by pulling his hips back an inch and thrusting back in sharply.

You choke, as your head snaps back and you inhale sharply on a whine. Your legs bounce helplessly in the air behind his back and you feel your heels click just once before he stops moving again, returning to grinding his hips against yours in a circle. This movement only serves to frustrate you, rather than satisfy now that you’ve felt him move. L’s eyes are locked on your flushed face and you can’t help but think he’s only doing this to see what reactions you’ll give. As if you yourself are another experiment, something for him to toy with at ease and see what kind of response he can elicit from you.

You whine pleadingly and push back into L’s slow grinding, ‘L please, c’mon-

L leans down, whispers in your ear, ‘What? Fuck you?’ His breath is hot against your ear, ‘My cock is currently buried in your cunt. I am, by definition, fucking you..’ He’s being purposely obtuse. You know he is. Just as you think you’re gonna lose your mind with the way he’s teasing you, L presses his hips against you harder, before pulling out and pushing back in. His cock is a red hot heat inside you, you can feel it twitching as he moves, burning against something gooey deep inside you. Your pussy feels like it’s melting around him when he moves and you moan roughly; you need that feeling more than you need to breathe currently.

L chuckles breathlessly against your ear before leaning back, bracing himself over you on his arms as he starts to fuck you in short pulses. ‘Is this not enough?’ You whine and shake your head. Your face flushes and your eyes slip shut as the sensation overtakes you, it feels good.

‘What is it? Do you need more, Bambi? Does your greedy cunt want more of my cock?’ Fuck, L’s filthy. Your head is spinning with the switch-up from his usual dry wit to this. L pulls out of you almost fully, leaving just the tip of his cock inside, rubbing it back and forth teasingly. Your cunt spasms around him, desperately trying to suck him back in, ‘Answer me, Bambi. I have to know. Do you want- no, do you need more of my cock?’

‘L, I- please. I do, you know I do. Please. Give it to me.’ You rush out in one long whine, embarrassed but desperate enough to beg. You open your bleary eyes and he’s watching you with such a serious expression you flinch from it. L brushes a hand over your cheek and you realise you’re crying as he wipes away your tears. L raises his hand to his face and licks the tear off his hand. He reaches down and presses that same thumb to your clit, rubbing in slow circles as he starts to fuck his cock back into your cunt with short thrusts.

L’s staring down at you the whole time, analysing your facial expressions and you think maybe he was waiting for this, for you to look at him, for you to cry. Your cunt clenches and spasms around L’s cock and you see a smile flicker around the edges of his mouth. A shiver wraps itself around your spine and squeezes; it tingles out across your skin as the reality of L’s sadistic tendencies translating over into the bedroom hits you like a truck. He’s toying with you, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

You feel your clit twitch at the realisation and the loss of sensation, spark with electricity as L leans his arm back up beside your head and thrusts hard, lands his hips against your ass with a bruising sting, and turns your insides into melting goo with his cock. Your breath stutters out of your lungs in a desperate gasp. Your head tips back, L’s lips brush down your exposed neck and a shudder runs through you. You moan hoarsely, hips humping back against his thrusts. L bites down on your neck, sucks a bruise over the sharp marks left by his teeth. The pain laces through you in a quick thrill before licking around the edges of all the parts of you that feel good. You can’t keep your eyes open; the world is blurring with the pleasure licking up your spine.

You tip your head back down, feel the world squeeze into nothing more than L and his solid weight above you, the melting point of your insides wrapping around his cock, broiling with pleasure and you need him to kiss you right now. You search for his lip’s blindly. Your lips brush wetly across his cheek and L turns his head, licks into your mouth with fervour, his tongue brushing your own and the roof of your mouth. You feel like he’s sucking the air out your lungs, consuming you.

L’s hips are moving fluidly against your own now, elbows braced near your head, your feet bouncing helplessly in the air behind him as he thrusts. You grip his forearm with one hand, desperate for something to ground you as the pleasure threatens to sweep you away with it; L catches your hand with his own, links your fingers near your head. His cock feels like a searing line splitting you open. Like you might crack around it and dissolve into nothing but open nerve endings sparking with fire. Every thrust knocks the breath out your throat. The tip of his cock kisses you so sweetly deep inside. You kiss him back as best you can, messy, open mouthed and panting.

L fucks you sharply with shallow thrusts, and then slows down to deep, slow strokes before switching back. He’s alternating between rutting the head of his cock against your g-spot with pressure and brushing languidly over some deep part of your cunt that makes your hips twitch and your whole pussy feel like it’s on fire.

You moan with every thrust, little ‘uh, uh, uh,’’s as his hips meet yours. You suck L’s tongue into your mouth, his cock twitches deep inside you as you do, a moan bubbling up over his lips, spilling out from behind his teeth. His hips start to speed up, and you feel his whole body shudder as he struggles to slow them down again. You can’t stop squirming underneath him, hips humping back into his thrusts, gasping moans wetly against his lips, his every touch on your skin is electric. L pulls away from your mouth as you struggle to kiss him, and instead presses heavy, open mouthed kisses over your face.

You can feel the wet mess between you, squelching where you’re connected at the hips, your slick spilling out your drooling cunt around the thickness of his cock, his cock fucking it back in with an electric friction that runs up your spine and builds knots in your stomach, the friction between your pubic hair catching his, his stomach brushing over yours. Everytime your chest rubs against L’s, your breath catches on your moans, hiccuping slightly; you can hear him inhale sharply through his nose when your nipples brush. All of these sensations are building a broiling pressure behind your clit, tied to the intense line of burning fire his cock has turned your pussy into.

L rubs his spare hand roughly down your side and slides it between you, lands the tips of his long fingers against your clit. His hips stutter as he readjusts his rhythm to accommodate the new movement of his hand, fingers spelling messy circles against the top of your pussy and your clit. The movement of his fingers burn as your clit twitches desperately into the sensation, burning a hot heartbeat against the fingers. You need to come. It’s just barely in your grasp, sparkling around the edge of your vision as you stutter, ‘L- L, please I need-,’ You cut yourself off with a whine.

L’s panting hot against the side of your head and he groans as you manage to choke out, ‘hard-er, please, harder.’ His hips snap into yours with double the force, and you slide up the bed some before his hand disentangles from yours and clutches you around the shoulder, pulls you back towards him and keeping you there.

Your hips meet his heavily from the motion and you squeak in surprise between your moans, hands flailing until they settle on his shoulders. You hear L gasp out a shuddering laugh breathily above you. He’s groaning low in his throat as his hips piston against yours firmly. He reaches down between you again and his middle finger strokes lightly over the fat, wet tip of your twitching clit , you whine high pitched. Your heartbeat thunders behind your clit as it starts to pulse and clench to the staccato rhythm of your orgasm. Your hips rock haphazardly into the sensation as your legs start to tremble.

You can hear L’s moans punch out of his chest as your pussy clenches tight on his cock and you feel wet pleasure radiate up your spine. You struggle to keep your eyes open as sparks of pleasure blur your vision. Your pussy pulses hotly around L’s cock, spasming rhythmically, milking him. You can feel L’s cock twitch inside you as his chest collapses against you. He’s so heavy for someone so lean, you feel trapped under the weight of him, it sends your head spinning to think about, makes your cunt spasm as you lie there and take it. You’re unable to do anything else, L’s pinning you to the bed by your shoulders as his hips piston into you aggressively, drawing out the end of your orgasm.

You gasp and scrape your hands along his upper back, whole body rigid, back bowed off the bed as your hips spasm against his. L moans roughly against your ear and his hips stutter and pumps his cock into you harshly. Your breath catches in your throat, arms instinctively pushing against his chest where you’re pinned as you struggle and fail to squirm weakly out from underneath him. You feel your body spasm as liquid heat creeps up your spine and you feel something hot and wet release from your cunt in short pulses as you struggle to breathe. Did you just?- the thought barely registers as L swears gutterally, ‘fuck,’ and pulls you as close to him as you can get, slides your sticky hot body against his, one arm wrapping around your shoulders and the other around your head.

He’s completely on top of you now; your face is buried in his chest, nearly pressed into his hairy armpit as you mewl pathetically, choke around your own breath and try crawl away from the hot press of his cock. It feels too good, you can’t keep your eyes open, vision blurring as fat tears spill out of them and down your cheeks. The head of his cock rubs over and over a spot deep inside of you that makes your toes curl and your thighs shake.

You shout hoarsely as you’re tipped into another orgasm way too soon, your clit pulsing with near-painful shocks as you cum, shaking underneath L. The pleasurable waves are pain tipped as it ripples through you an electric pulse. Your mouth is caught open, lips ruby red and spit slicked rubbing against his chest as you drool around a long moan. Something rough brushes your face and you taste salt on your tongue.

L freezes above you, draws his hips back and then ruts forward, once, twice, three times, hard. His hips press tight against yours, rutting hard against you without pulling out, cock buried as deep in you as he can get as it twitches and you feel a hot liquid release inside you as he cums. L’s hips press hard against you one last time, thrust out just barely before slamming back in, then rock back and forth shallowly, groaning as he rides out his orgasm, you can feel it rumble through his chest above you.

You’re hiccuping around gasps, chest convulsing as L’s body loses tension above you. He levers himself off of you, arms shaking with the exertion, chest peeling back as L stares at you and a sob rattles free from your chest. Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, embarrassed, but L just leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead and brushes your sweat soaked hair back from your face. ‘Are you doing okay? Can I pull out?’ You nod, tuck your head down to hide your face as you feel his cock slide gently out of you and the flood of his cum that rushes out after.

L flops off of you, to the side and tugs you gently with him. The room feels far too open without L on top of you, you feel panic tug at your mind and settle against your neck but then the room shifts and you land haphazardly tucked against L as he leans your head against his chest with a loose arm. Your breathing starts to even out as you reconnect with L but you’re still crying. You feel his arm raise to pet lazily at your head and your harsh and heavy breaths slow in time to the rhythm of his chest rising and falling slowly against yours. ‘You okay, Bambi?’ He asks. You nod against his chest, tears still slipping down your face.

‘Need you.’ You mumble out. You try shunting yourself up the bed further, try to wriggle desperately your way into his space but your legs aren’t really cooperating. L leans into your clumsy touches, wraps his arms around you and pulls your wet sticky body to settle over his own. Tucks your head into his neck and allows your legs to settle between his own. ‘You sure? It wasn’t too much was it?’ L asks, brushing a thumb over your wet cheeks and you shake your head, relax into his hold and sigh contentedly at being there.

‘Was a lot. But it was good. Liked it.’ You mumble against his neck and you feel him nod against the top of your head, press a kiss against your hair after. L holds you against him, and you stay there content to just float until your eyes start to slide shut under the threat of sleep.

L’s hand rubs against your hip, you hum gently, too sleepy to really reply when you feel his hand slip down between your legs and swipe at the mess between them. ‘L!’ Your eyes snap open in shock. Your voice comes out in a feeble whisper-shout, voice hoarse from all the noise you made earlier. L draws his hand back sharply, looking for all intents like a chastised kid doing something he shouldn’t. You see him suck his fingers into his mouth as he says, ‘sorry’, without looking apologetic at all.

He glances down between your abused cunt and your face a couple times before he says, ‘I won’t be just a minute,’ and tipping you off of him. He doesn’t go far, just leans down to swipe his tongue through the mess between your legs. You shriek ‘L!’ jerk away from the sensation and reach down to grab him by his hair.

You try pull him up but he just moans low in his throat. His head pops up for a second as rests his chin on your pubic hair. L says, ‘I’ll be fast I swear,’ before leaning back down to clean up your pussy with his tongue. You can’t stop twitching, hips bucking incrementally against his face as you whine high pitched, ‘L, c’mon, fuck, stop. ‘S too much.’ L swipes his tongue against you one last time before chasing where his cum has leaked down across your thighs and ass. ‘L!’ You say sharply, put your hand against his face and try push him away that way.

‘Alright, alright.’ L sits back up between your legs, props his elbows up on your knees. His hair is sitting even wilder than usual, all mussed up at the back with long strands both sticking to his face and straight out from his head. He’s got this goofy looking grin on his face, a wide smile that you’ve never seen him make before. The most gleeful expression he’s worn in all your months of working with him having been the one he makes after teasing you. L sits back on his haunches and smacks his lips together before wiping his fingers around the edge of his mouth, sucking any residue off of them. You giggle breathlessly. He’s so weird and you cannot believe you like him so much. ‘Hey, L. You should come back up here.’ You pet the bed beside you and he says,

‘You should call me Ryuzaki now.’ before crawling up the bed. He sits about a foot away from you and you're about to be offended before he reaches over, grabs you underneath an armpit and a knee and uses sheer force to drag you in between his legs. You’re spluttering indignantly when he drops you on him, rolls you slightly to face him, chest pressed against his pubis, arms on either side of his soft stomach.

You raise yourself up and slap him gently on the belly, ‘Don’t just drag me. What the fuck- Ryuzaki!’

Ryuzaki looks pointedly at you and then over to where you were sitting, ‘You were in the wet spot.’ He shrugs before placing his hands under your arms again. He sighs, longsuffering, ‘but if you want to stay there… I could always…’ You wiggle and squeal away from his grip, not missing the mischief in his voice that signalled he was seriously about to pick you up and drop you back into your combined mess of bodily fluids.

‘Okay! Okay! I surrender.’ L removes his hands from your armpits.

‘...does that mean I can eat your pussy again?’ He asks, and you feel before you see him starting to loom over you with a sparkle in his eyes. You feel your clit twitch with a sharp zing at his expression and it's just painful enough that you cringe and shake your head ‘no’ as fast as you can. Ryuzaki huffs and leans back petulantly, but he starts drawing patterns on your shoulder blades with his finger tips so you imagine he can’t be too upset.

You lean your head back against his stomach. ‘...So, why Ryuzaki now? And L before?’

You feel Ryuzaki shrug as he says simply, ‘detective kink.’ He leans back across the bed to reach for a little cake out of several sweet treats he has littering his bedside table.

You slap his bent leg beside you and say, ‘you do not!’

‘Owww…’ Ryuzaki sounds petulant again even though his mouth is full. ‘Stop hitting me.’ He says. He’s rubbing the part of his leg you slapped with his free hand. Oh, so he is actually upset. You didn’t expect that. You say, ‘Oh. Sorry.’ And lean over to press an apologetic kiss to the area. ‘I’ll stop, don’t worry.’ You lean up on one arm to look him in the eyes. ‘But seriously. Why Ryuzaki now and L before?’ L puts half the cake down, leans down and presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

‘I told you. Detective kink.’ You can tell from the gleam in his eyes he’s fucking with you. And that you’re not gonna get a clearer answer out of him anytime soon. Possibly just because he’s an ass but possibly because of Kira. You narrow your eyes and him and huff frustratedly into his belly. You feel his stomach move, and hear him laugh somewhere above you, and you think that maybe all the stress is worth it if you get to have this. You’re hiding your smile against Ryuzaki’s tummy when you feel him start to stroke his fingers through your hair.

‘...Hey Ryuzaki?’

‘Mmm?’ He hums softly in response.

‘I really like you, y’know.’ L’s hands pause in running through your hair briefly before they start moving again.

‘I really like you too.’ He sounds softer than usual, ‘Although I can’t say it’s been good for our investigation, on a personal note, I have to say I am really rather pleased with how things have turned out.’

You snarfle a laugh into his hip, ‘Well I can’t say you’re wrong there. But… hopefully I’ll be less distracted now.’

You hear him laugh in response above you, ‘That or you’ll be more distracted. Safe to say I’ll be more distracted…’ He trails off and you can near hear the cogs in his head turning, ‘Maybe this was a bad idea. What if neither of us can focus on the investigation now?’ Ryuzaki doesn’t sound panicked, more like he’s mulling the idea over in his mind. ‘Hmm, we might need to work in separate rooms from now on.’ He sounds serious and you huff out a laugh in response.

‘I doubt it’ll come to that Ryuzaki. I promise I can keep it in my pants long enough for us to get some work done, or, at least I’ll be able to now that we’re doing this in our down time... Wait, we are going to keep doing this, right? I don’t think I can stop after just once.’ You snap your head up to look at him, panicked, and are startled to be caught in the overwhelming sincerity of his gaze.

L brushes his hand softly across your forehead before settling to hold your face softly.

He says, ‘You have absolutely no idea just how tantalising I find you, do you? I’m not worried about you ‘keeping it in your pants’. You’ve shown profound restraint so far.’ He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, gaze drawn to it, ‘Just once?’ His eyes flick back up to meet yours and you shudder at the look in them as he says, ‘We’ve got the rest of the night to fill after you’ve recovered, and if I was any less dedicated to bringing Kira to justice I would ring each of our coworkers individually to tell them to take tomorrow off.’ He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your temple, ‘‘Just once.’’ Ryuzaki snorts a laugh through his nose and then leans forward to kiss you gently.

‘Rest up.’ He says.’ He twists around again and takes the rest of the cake he had been eating and holds it up to your lips. You take the offered morsel. He guides your head to lay back down on him, ‘We’ve got a full night ahead of us.’ A shiver works its way up your spine before you sigh and close your eyes, resolving to get at least a little rest before things start to work up again. Because if you can trust Ryuzaki with anything, it’s that he follows through with his plans.

#mywriting #cupidwrites #death note fanfiction #l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet smut #l x reader #l smut #they/them reader #ryuzaki

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kltira · 1 year ago

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Hiya! May I request mondo and kazuichi with an s/o that is very shy but is also very cuddly and their main love language is touch? I'm sorry if this is too much!! And may I be an 🌺anon? tysm!! <3 <3

┊₊˚{☁️} “Loving your touch” ₊˚꒦｡

꒦꒷︶꒷ ꔫ Requested by...꒱꒱ @Anon 🌺 ( #cutiekittysender : Anon🌺)

ꔫ Fandom꒱꒱ Danganronpa

ꔫ Genre ꒱꒱ Fluff {100% sfw}

ꔫ Type and pairing꒱꒱ Imagines (x reader) ꔫ Featuring꒱꒱ Mondo, Kazuichi

ꔫ Pronouns꒱꒱ They/Them, GN reader

ꔫ Content Warning(s)꒱꒱ Danganronpa spoilers, pet names, suggestive if you *really* squint

ꔫ Summary꒱꒱ You've been dating your lover for a while, but you still have shy moments. However, you don't hide the fact that you adore their touches and cuddles so much.

ꔫ Author note(s)꒱꒱ Yippeeee!!! I'm writing again! :D I hope you enjoy <33 Super cute request!!!!

Mondo is super overprotective, it's often he would have your hand in his

Of course, this made you blush at the sudden initiation of affection

He would also blush though >:3

He feels so manly when your in contact with him as he feels as he could keep you safe no matter what

Don't worry, he knows you can take care of yourself but he wants to do it for you so you never have to lift a finger

Anyway, he doesn't give a shit and will proudly give you PDA if you enjoy it

If not, it's okay; he would be super cuddly with you in private as well, putting you on his lap and kissing your temple. ୨₊˚‿︵‿꒰🌸꒱‿︵‿˚₊୧ Mondo had his arm wrapped around you on the bench in the park as you licked the ice cream he bought for you. Your relationship being new to the public, many people stared at both of you, especially Mondo, who was an ultimate and a feared one, making it destined to happen. After a bit, you noticed, felt insecure, and got shy. You twiddled your thumbs for a second before tugging on Mondo’s jacket. “Ah, can we proceed to our dorm?” you asked, a blush on your face. The desire to cuddle him remained, but the disapproving glances made you feel as though it was inappropriate. Consequently, you concluded that the best course of action would be to cuddle in the privacy of your dorms. Mondo was a bit confused, but he soon put two and two together and nodded, helping you off the bench by guiding your hand and giving it a small kiss. In your dorm, Mondo hung his coat on the rack before helping you with yours. Mondo, despite looking tough, always treated you with gentleness. Once you two were settled, you embraced him and nuzzled your face against the chest part of his shirt. Soon, he took you to your bed as you got yourself comfortable on top of him. Mondo brushed his fingers through your hair. Moments like these were common between you two, but they were always special and made butterflies flutter in your stomach. “I love ya,” Mondo stated, lifting your chin as he kissed your lips. Bright red ran across your face, a little surprised, but you kissed back, your pupils dilated and just filled with pure joy. “I love you too, handsome,” you replied with a wink before going back to laying on his chest and nuzzling yourself against the biker. As you snuggled closer to Mondo, the warmth of his embrace enveloped you, melting away any lingering insecurities from the public gaze earlier. His heartbeat felt like a soothing rhythm against your cheek, and smelling his cologne mixed with the faint hint of leather from his jacket was comforting. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes, relishing in the moment's intimacy. Mondo’s hand continued to caress your hair in a tender gesture, his touch conveying a sense of safety and affection that made your heart swell with happiness. Drifting into blissful relaxation, you couldn't help but feel grateful for someone like Mondo. He made every moment special.

You would have to initiate it with him. He’s really all talk and no bark

Meaning, even if he flirts like crazy, touching seems like too big of a step for him to do on his own

….even if you’ve been dating for a while. It gets better, but he would still prefer you to initiate physical contact first.

Blushes like CRAZY and squeals in joy sometimes when you hug him, hold his hand, kiss him

You get a bit nervous from the squealing, thinking you did something wrong at first, but he just leans into your kiss sweetly ୨₊˚‿︵‿꒰🌸꒱‿︵‿˚₊୧ Nervously, your heart fluttered as you stood at entering Kazuichi Souda’s workshop. While you had been dating the Ultimate Mechanic for a while now, his constant flirtations never failed to make you blush, but starting physical contact was always daunting. You skipped over to his workshop where Kazuichi would often be at. You open the door and peeked through, spotting the vibrant yellow jumpsuit he wore while working and his neon pink hair you often would play with. With unwavering concentration, Kazuichi skillfully wielded the wrench to fix the car, blocking out any distractions. You took a few steps inside with a smile on your face as you tapped your boyfriend on the shoulder. Kazuichi gets a bit startled, dropping his wrench before turning around and facing you. “Ahhh, I’m sorry Kazu!!” you blurted, picking up his wrench and handing it back to him. He blushed as his hand placed against yours, retrieving the wrench. “[Y-Y/N], I didn’t hear you come in...” Kazuichi squeaked, a blush following over his face looking at how stunning you were eyeing you up and down; he will never get over that you were his. You stared at him for a moment, curious about his staring, but you didn’t mention it, just giving a small chuckle. After a few moments of you just admiring how hard-working your boyfriend is and just giving him googly eyes, without warning, you just jump into his arms and pulling the mechanic into a tight, loving hug. Kazuichi froze for a second before returning the hug, his arms wrapping around you. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, the warmth of your embrace soothing his nerves. You took his face in yours and kissed his cheek playfully, making a dramatic popping noise before going back to admiring the pink-haired boy. Despite it being a daily occurrence, Kazuichi looked stunned and held you close with a blushing face. “... I uh- Do you? Do you wanna go to the bedroom?” he scratched behind his head, waiting for you to answer him, and answer you did with a soft nod and a smile. Your happiness stemmed from getting your boyfriend to spend some time with you. You were the only one he would drop his work for. You both leave the discarded car parts and half fixed car be as you dragged Kazuichi to your shared bedroom.

#cutiekittysender : Anon🌺#nyanyafluffxoxo #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader #danganronpa fluff #danganronpa x reader #mondo x reader #kazuichi x reader #mondo owada #kazuichi souda #danganronpa headcanons #requests open #reqs open

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imactuallyilliterate · 3 months ago

Text

Copilot

Description- After the loss of his child and his ship, Din tries to go back to life as it was before while carrying the heartbreak of losing all that he had. A new ship and a reinstatement of his position in the guild is a start, but even he has a hard time piloting a 4 person ship by himself.

Din x Reader, Din Djarin x Reader Insert, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Cannon Divergent, No Y/N, AFAB reader with heavy usage of they/them pronouns

Tags: @mandalorian-theway @fic-appointment @wakeupjackthisisntfair @kirsteng42 @darthmama1618 @hoodedbirdie @donnaa @elysiadjarin @bookloverkat @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @lemuelzero101

AO3 Link Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

Chapter 5- Dosed

TW: Voice Kink, Gun Violence, Fantasy Drug Overdose, Over stimulation (non sexual)

“Who are you, and who do you work with?” The bothan’s words felt accusatory, and their posture was threatening. Dr. Z’s arms were crossed over their chest and their hairy brow was furrowed as their eyes narrowed. You felt a lump rise in your chest as you thought about how you would answer. Hagaark was a child, and easy to finesse the truth around but Dr. Z was an intelligent scientist and from the look of it could very easily overpower you. So you straightened your stance and did what you thought was smart.

“I work for a bounty hunter. He’s tracking the head of the Caisidorpha smuggling ring.” you told them.

“I didn’t want to tell you outright because if you were working with the smugglers I would be putting him in danger.” Once you explained yourself, Dr.Z’s shoulders gave a little but not enough to put you off guard.

“What’s his name?” they asked, brow still furrowed. You tensed at the question, but still gave your honest answer.

“He’s a mandalorian.” you told them.

“They don’t give out names freely.”, with that Dr.Z seemed to fully relax as they dropped their arms from their crossed position and sighed.

“I was told another hunter was coming from my higher ups. Glad to see they’re taking the situation seriously this time.” they said, pleased with your answer.

“Another hunter?” you repeated, slumping your newly acquired bag off your shoulders. Dr.Z nodded at you before rubbing the bridge of their snout, pushing up their spectacles as they did so.

“Yes, he came by roughly four weeks ago. Checked in with Clara right after he landed then we heard nothing from him. My assumption is that he was either captured or fell victim to one of the many dangers of our jungles.” Dr. Z explained. Their assumption made you a bit fearful for what could have happened if you had decided to travel back to the ship. If a bounty hunter could die so easily out in the jungles, you would have been no match for any large predator looking for a late night meal.

“I see… I’m sorry If I gave you any reason to be suspicious of me.” you said, making a mental note to inform your employer about the either dead or captured hunter.

“Oh it’s not your fault. Ever since this whole debacle went down I don't know who to trust.” Dr. Z let out another sigh before pointing to the doorway they stood inside of.

“This room is used as a quarantine for new hires coming from off planet. We work with very delicate flora that can be influenced by off-world bacteria or viruses, so it's crucial that we sterilize clothing and monitor for illness when new arrivals get here. I’m telling you this to let you know that when I close this door it can’t be opened on either side for at least 6 hours, are you alright with that?” Dr.Z explained. The premise of being locked in a room throughout the night put you on edge and made you suspicious of your host. However, it wasn’t like there were any other options for you and if you had pushed back against Dr.Z there was a possibility that they would have rescinded their offer. So you nodded back to them in agreement.

“That's fine.” was all you said in response.

“Alright, well then.” Dr. Z cleared their throat before taking a step back and punching in a code next the door.

“Sleep well, I’ll greet you in the morning.” they said and with that the door shut with a hiss then a metallic click, letting you know that you were locked in for the night.

You took a few moments to assess your surroundings after the door had closed. The three drawers in the dresser were empty as well as the closet. The tiny refresher room was stocked full with hand soap and a generic 3-in-one shampoo that smelled faintly of eucalyptus.

The bed was properly firm with clean (if not a bit scratchy) sheets, and big enough for you to lie down with your arms and legs spread out. Feeling satisfied with your look around the room you took a seat at the edge of the bed where your newest purchase sat. The heavy black tactical bag with more pockets on it than you could count. In an unceremonious way you heaved the bag onto the bed then opened the first pocket.

As you made your way through your purchase the identity of the bag's previous owner slowly became obvious to you. A couple of rations, a med kit, a common multitool, a change of mens clothes, a sheathed vibroblade, stun cuffs… a blaster.

You wonder if you'd been another, more gently raised, individual if you would have been perturbed by the fact that you were rifling through a potentially dead man’s bag. However, the premise of being able to step into a cool refresher and change into a loose shirt after hours in thick jungle heat was too inviting not to take. Besides, it wasn’t like you stole the stuff. You had no idea what you were buying, a part of you really thought it was going to be junk even as you were opening it. And even though the contents of the bag were mostly useless to you, it gave you more information to give to your employer.

As you took your shower, being careful not to get the wrappings on your hand too wet, you mentally prepared yourself for the call to your employer. It wasn’t like you were calling him for a quick chat, you had useful- hell, actionable - information for him. Yet… you looked down at your injured hand. The water had soaked its way through the cotton fabric and was stinging the hours old burn mark. The memory of the unnamed man grabbing your wrist to better inspect the injury came to you, as well as that same uneasiness you felt when you first met the mandalorian. Except this time it was accompanied by the same pleasant shiver you felt after it happened, when you realized that had been the first time he touched you. Standing in the refresher, the cool water washing over you, you again tried to recall the last time you had felt physical contact with another person. Peli’s goodbye hug came to mind, but even going further than that you had a hard time recollecting physical contact that was intentional or wanted.

Mando had only grabbed you to bring attention to the burn on your thumb, but that didn’t mean that it hadn't- weirdly -felt good. You felt warmth spread to your cheeks then shook your head, as if you could shake the thoughts from it.

Don’t be weird. You told yourself, and repeated as you turned off the water.

After showering, you dressed yourself in your underwear and one of the shirts found in the tactical bag. It was a plain black shirt that hung a little bit above your knees. Not your normal sleeping attire, but it did well in a pinch. Sitting on the bed you stared down at your data pad, took a deep breath, then pressed the mandalorian’s contact code.

It rang once, twice, three times. Long enough for you to rethink calling him in the first place before he finally answered.

“Hello?” his voice came in. You stated your name and low grunt of recognition was his response.

“I have more information about the Caisidorpha flower, as well as the general politics of the area. But first I should tell you… I wasn’t able to get back to the ship tonight.” you confessed expecting some type of repremention coming your way.

“Why, what happened?” he asked, confusion in his voice. You sighed, your face warming slightly in embarrassment.

“By the time I finished restocking our supplies it was less than an hour before nightfall. A local warned me against going into the jungle at night, so I found shelter in the city.” you explained.

“Are you safe? Do you need me to come back?” he asked. You remember your eyes widening with the amount of concern he had in his voice, you hadn’t expected that type of reaction from him.

“Y-Yeah I’m fine. The lead botanist at the lab is letting me spend the night in their quarantine facility.” you reassured him. He sighed gently, and you could swear that his voice sounded different. Clearer, almost.

“But anyway, here’s what I know about the flower…” you ran through all the knowledge you had gained in the past few hours. The steroids effects, its usage within the culture, how its emergence changed the local political structure, as well as both of its street names. All the while the mandalorian stayed silent.

“Oh, another thing worth mentioning is that they had sent a previous bounty hunter before you.” you told him.

“Oh?” he questioned.

“Yeah. I didn’t get his name, but he’s probably dead. The drug smugglers either killed him or something in the jungle got to him first.”, on a separate application on your data pad you started to take notes of the drug. Cross referencing all the information you had gotten on that day.

“How do you know?”, this time you couldn’t help but take notice of his voice. It was difficult to tell at first but you were in-fact hearing him clearer than in the past.

“I bought his old bag from a buy and sell shop in town. It still had all of his equipment in it.” You answered back, trying not to lose focus on the conversation.

“Hmm…”, you picked it up the more he talked. His voice was unmodulated, the feed from the mic in his helmet was coming directly to you. Making this, strangely, the closest you had been to Mando without his helmet.

“What?” you asked him.

“If it's a buy and sell shop it's possible that the proprietor might know who killed him. Or at the very least they might know the person who last saw the body. It could be worth investigating.”, you quickly jotted that down in your notes and set a reminder for yourself to do exactly that.

“I’ll go ask in the morning, see if I can get any more information from the proprietor.” you told him, closing the writing application.

“Thank you. This was useful information.”, hearing this from your unnamed employer you found yourself smiling slightly.

“Hey, Mando?” you ask him, your smile dropped.

“Hm?” he responded, his voice too clear and too close.

“Be careful out there. I know you can handle yourself against anybody that crosses your path, but anything big enough to be considered a monster is deserving of a bit of caution.” you warned him.

“Understood. Goodnight.” He abruptly ended the call leaving you alone once again. That was all you needed to do. There had been no more information to give, and yet the second the comm link ended you found yourself wishing it hadn’t. Another thing about space travel you were warned about.

The loneliness.

Placing the datapad on its charger and turning off the overhead light, you slipped into bed feeling a heavy invisible weight on you. It had been weeks now and that com call had been one of the longest conversations the two of you had since boarding the ship. Snippets of almost conversation here and there that were always instructional, never small talk. You supposed that was fine though, you weren’t the most talkative person either, but a part of you well and truly missed the sound of another person's voice. Hell, at the point you were at you would have listened to Peli uninterrupted for an hour if it meant having another person to listen to.

Letting out another sigh and turning in the bed you thought of the mandalorian’s voice. It was …nice. He had a low vibrato that was kind of soothing in a way. Whenever you heard him speak you were always a little taken aback. It felt so humanizing. Though at the time you didn’t even know if your traveling companion even was human, a part of you hoped he was.

You tried to imagine him underneath the weapons and beskar. Only able to conjure an outline of a man, something shadowy and changing. What were his eyes like? What color was his hair? What do his hands look like? Hands…

You remembered the way he grabbed you. His firm grip on your wrist, and how he pulled you in close. A shiver went down your back and settled between your legs as a question repeated in your brain.

When was the last time you were touched?

The human brain is often unreliable when trying to recollect memories. Especially when said human is in a state of arousal. As you laid in bed, under covers, exhausted from the jungle heat, and replaying the memory over and over… you could have sworn you remembered his thumb gently rubbing circles onto your wrist. And that thought was enough to make your breath hitch, your stomach rise, and your legs press together.

His voice rang in your head, so clear and close.

Hello?

Are you safe?

Thank you.

Thank you… Thank you… Thank you…

You bit your lip, and gripped tightly to your pillow hips gently swaying against nothing. The unmade form of the mandalorian you had conjured had changed. You were wondering other things now. His voice in your ear, his tight grip on your hips, and his weight on top of you.

With your heart beating fast in your ears, and the memory of being grabbed by your nameless employer swirling into different thoughts about the mandalorian, slowly you brought your hand down between your thighs… before the sharp sting from your thumb replaced the growing arousal in your body.

You huffed and cursed before bringing your hand up to your chest. It was honestly for the best you thought to yourself.

You turned over again settling yourself into bed, face still warm and heart still fluttering.

Thoughts like that could get you into trouble.

…

The next day you woke up to your alarm going off, and found yourself in a mini panic before recognizing your surroundings. Turning the bedside light on you saw that Dr.Z had been telling the truth. The door was open, and you were free to leave. You checked the time on your datapad, 0500. Your things were probably ready for pick up, hopefully you’d be able to catch a ride as well. You got dressed quickly and started to put all of your belongings in your new bag, stopping at the blaster pistol. You weren’t super well versed in blasters, but weren’t unfamiliar with them. You were fortunate enough to only ever have to shoot one in warning once or twice back on tatooine, never needing to be accurate. You pondered the weapon for a short time, before placing it in the side pocket of the tactical bag. Better safe than sorry.

The lobby was as you had first seen it, sleek and urban in a place that felt a bit too wild to house it, except this time the Twi'lek woman behind the counter was starting her day rather than finishing it. You gave a wave to Clara who gave you a chaste smile back before you walked out of the double doors into the thick Fleucian heat, more used to it now than you were the day before. The warmth hadn’t been too overwhelming, the sun having only been out for less than an hour. Looking to your right you saw some locals up and going about their days, their internal clocks set to a farmer’s lifestyle. You smiled thinking about how Hagaark and his sister must have been getting ready for their school day. You looked toward the market center, not much seemed to be going on there but following your employer’s direction you went towards the dome structure to see if you could find the old Chelonoid. The weight of the bag was heavy and swayed uncomfortably against your back even with the straps tightened. It took you a little too long to find the back entrance of the shopping center, stopping to adjust your bag a few times, when you finally found the back entrance where the hover trolly garage was. It looked as if there had been some type of big delivery as you rounded the back. Crates and boxes were stacked up nearly as tall as you and there seemed to be commotion towards the open garage door. Sticking close to the cover of the stacked crates you watched as two yellow skinned Chelonoids and one humanoid figure hurriedly placed boxes on a hover trolley. You watched as the humanoid gave out orders while the Chelonoids loaded the trolley. You started to make your way over to the group, hoping that this was your order, when you took notice of a couple of strange things. The humanoid was actually a human man, maybe a foot taller than you, with his face partially covered with a scarf. Which struck you as odd, being as this was the first other human you had seen since stepping foot on Felucia. As you watched the three of them hurriedly stack the trolly you noticed that off to the left of the loading group, boxes were half haphazardly thrown with their contents having been spilled out on the ground. Following the mess, your heart dropped as you saw laying on the ground an older pale green chelonoid lying motionless.

“Hey!” You yelled at the three loaders, who stopped and looked at you with surprise before hurriedly stocking the rest of the supply onto the trolly. You started into a sprint, running after them while trying to reach into the side pocket of your tactical bag that was swinging irritantaly with every step you took. By the time you were within blasting range, they were starting the trolly and hauling ass away from you. By the grace of the maker you were able to pull out the blaster from the side pocket, however… you never really needed to be a good shot before. So when you set aim on the thieves who you assumed were stealing the goods your employer had paid for, the shot that you fired didn’t land on either of the three fleeing vagrants. Nor did it land on any of the machinery powering the trolly. Instead what you hit was a box hanging precariously close to the back, and what followed was a phthalo blue explosion that sent the box into the air and you on your ass.

For a moment there was nothing. Your vision was filled with vibrant blue and white spots, your ears ran and your head spun as you sat up. As your senses slowly returned, a strong physical memory returned with it. The time you crashed your first speeder bike felt a lot like this. You loved that bike. You had spent years scavenging, collecting, bartering, and stealing parts for it. Your first ride felt like freedom and every ride after felt just as exhilarating. The first and only time you crashed, had felt like death. Not only was the pain excruciating, the embarrassment and grief that you felt watching the work of your entire teen years roaring in flames while so many eyes watched you was something you tried to press down and away from you. The vibrant blue explosion that knocked the wind out of you and sent you tumbling on your ass, had not been nearly as painful or gut wrenching as watching years of your work be destroyed, but perhaps equally as embarrassing. As you blinked your vision back you could see the mess of blue powder on and around you. It stained your skin and burnt your mouth and nostrils with its overwhelming perfume. At this point a crowd of locals had started gathering around to investigate the commotion, and you needed to find a way to explain this mess without ending up in whatever this village’s prison equivalent was. Slowly you stood up, brushing dirt and blue off of you. Your mind was still hazed, and the world felt slow as a small group of chelonoids rushed to their fallen community member and surrounded you with caution. You looked towards where the trolly had left, a full field away from you at this point disappearing into the jungle. In its direction you saw the box, only about 5 or 6 feet from you still somewhat smoking with a ring of powder around it. As the locals around you started chattering and getting more fearful, you shuffled towards the box that laid down at your feet. You hadn’t remembered buying anything of this color or consistency the day before. None of the food or medicinal items smelt or looked like this.

As you reached the smoking blue pile in front of you, something inside of you churned and you felt as if something bad had happened. Something really bad. Stealing your nerves you kicked the burning wooden box over to its side and dread overcame you as you saw the emblem of a flower burnt into its side.

Your eyes widened and your heart raced in your chest, though you didn’t know if that was from the fear or the copious amount of caisidorpha that you ingested. The haze very quickly left your mind as you began to panic. There was yelling and fearful cries from all around you as the chelonoids looked at the crime scene you had found yourself directly in the middle of. There wasn’t time to worry about clearing your name at that moment though, you had minutes before the steroid kicked in and then you would become something violent and uncontrollable. Quickly you grabbed your bag and started running to the safest spot you could think of. The quarantine room in the basement of the lab could lock you in for as long as the effects would last and was far enough away that anyone in your immediate vicinity would be safe from your incoming rampage.

Clutching the bag to your chest you ran to the lab, past the lobby, down the stairs, and into the room where you slammed the button to close the doors. Throwing the bag down you tried to take deep breaths as you started to feel your skin tingle and your vision get shaky.

Breath.

You told yourself as you paced the room. But as your flesh started to warm and your heart rate picked up so did your breaths. You were panicking, and thinking of all the ways this drug was going to kill you but not before you ripped the room apart. You were spiraling so hard, you almost didn’t hear the frantic and outraged voice calling for you. Blinking, you looked back towards the door where you could hear the voice coming from. There was some type of speaker there were Dr.Z’s voice was demanding you respond.

Stumbling over to the door, you looked bellow the speaker and pressed the button underneath it.

“Dr.Z?” You asked, trying to catch your breath.

“What is the meaning of this?!” The bothan yelled from the other side of the door.

“I knew I should have never let you stay! The whole ordeal was highly irregular-“

“Dr.Z please let me explain! I didn’t kill that chelonoid the smugglers did!” You said cutting them off.

“There were three smugglers fleeing with a trolly and when I fired my blaster at them I hit a box of caisidorpha.”, your hands had begun to shake as you explained your version of the events to them.

“Please Dr.Z, I know you have no reason to believe me, I wouldn’t believe me either, but right now….” You felt tears well in your eyes and a lump grow in your throat as your conversation with the doctor last night replayed in your mind.

“We found that use of LPD causes hormones that control the fight or flight response, arousal, and sleep to overproduce permanently. If the rest of the body can’t keep up with the new production of hormones then the brain will slowly start to deteriorate. Making you violent and delirious before finally taking your life.”

“Dr.Z am I gonna die?” You asked, croaking back a terrified sob.

There was silence from the other end.

The question hung in the air for a few moments, the lack of response saying what needed to be said and nothing at all.

“How much did you ingest?” Dr.Z finally asked you from the other side of the door.

“I-I don’t know. A lot? I breathed a lot in, and when I stood up it completely covered me.” You answered.

“Alright… first thing you’ll do is use the refresher and completely rinse off any LPD residue. It can be absorbed through the skin, so the longer it stays on you the more LPD you’re being exposed to. Place your clothing in the laundry hatch next to the refresher so they can be removed and sanitized.” They explained to you. Quickly you backed up from the door and started to disrobe.

“After you have rinsed off the LPD, do slow and sustained exercises to try and sweat the chemical out. Natural endorphins neutralize the affects of LPD.”, after you took every article of clothing off of your body you began to do what the doctor said. As you placed the close in the silver hatch in the wall you turned on the water and hopped inside, not caring for what the temperature was. As you grabbed the three in one, there was one last thing Dr.Z said to you before you were left locked in the room with nothing but yourself.

“There is a possible LPD antidote that I can make. It will take me a while to formulate, but I will come back as soon as possible.” they said, voice too calm for the situation you found yourself in.

“O-okay!” You responded back, yelling over the rushing water hitting you. You stayed in the refresher for a long while, scrubbing your body until your skin was red and raw and the water started to sting your skin. Stepping out of the wetness you felt like the whole world was vibrating. Energy coursed through your veins like you had injected an entire pot of caffe directly into your bloodstream. You steadied yourself against the wall as you remembered what Dr.Z had told you. You needed to exercise, release endorphins to try and stabilize the LPD, but first you needed to dress yourself. All you had for extra clothes were the oversized shirts in your bag. It wasn’t much but it was better than being ass naked. Doing your best not to touch the outside of the bag too much, you were able to redress yourself. Or at the very lest cover your body to your midthigh. As you rushed to rinse your hands in the sink you felt like the world was swirling and that your heart might start beating out of your chest.Your eyes unfocused and you gripped the edges of the sink with a white knuckle grasp as you swayed for a moment.

You remember the fear that filled you as your eyes drifted up to look at the mirror above the sink. You think- no, you know that you’ll remember the bone chilling terror of looking into your own eyes for the rest of your life. Everything you were seeing was distorted like you weren’t actually seeing yourself, but a crazed predator about to lunge at you from behind the reflective surface. Your cheeks were flushed red and your wet hair stuck to your face and forehead and your eyes… the whites of your eyes were completely blue and your pupils were so dialated that at first glance you had thought they had gone completely black. In that moment what looked at you from the other side of the mirror was not you and it certainly wasn’t human.

Letting go of the sink with a startle you backed up and hit your back against the wall before stumbling out of the room, making sure to look down so as to not see your reflection again. The sound of your racing heartbeat was loud in your ears and wasn’t the only thing starting to overwhelm you. Everything was becoming too much. The light over head was too bright, the wet drops falling from your hair burned your skin before making you freezing, the shirt against your slightly damp skin felt suffocating, and you swore you could feel every single cotton fiber of the carpet underneath your feet.

What else was there to do but scream. Well scream and punch the walls.

You yelled until your throat was sore and hit the walls repeatedly. Whatever they were made of was sturdy because as you put your all into punching, kicking, and slapping at the walls they didn’t give. You don’t know how long you took your anger out on the walls and other surfaces of the room but the activity did bring you down just enough to gather some of your senses. You still felt like electricity was running through your veins and an animalistic type of rage burned at the core of your being, but you were able to make a few coherent thoughts.

You needed to let Mando know what happened. It wasn’t like he could’ve done anything for your state, but he needed to find that man and those chelonoids. He needed to find them and kill them. The thought of Mando slaughtering the people that did this to you was the only type of peace you were able to conjure in that moment.

Reaching into your satchel you pulled out your data pad and very shakily unlocked it before typing in the numbers for Mando’s direct com. He answered in seconds.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Mando I’ve been drugged.” you told him, cutting to the chase.

“What?” in the moment you couldn’t decipher if he had been shocked or confused, perhaps both.

“I-It’s hard to explain. I saw some guys stealing our stuff and when they saw me they started shooting. I shot back and hit a crate full of Caisidorpha, there was an explosion and I got covered in it.” You stammered out, feeling like your words were flying out of your mouth too fast.

“Stealing our stuff? Do you mean from the ship?” he tried to clarify.

“No…” you breathed struggling to keep composure before re telling the events that lead to your current state. You tried to tell him about hagaark and the shopping center and the trolley and the explosion to the best of your ability, but most of what you said was either sped through or slurred as you started to lose focus.

“Alright try to stay calm. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” he reassured.

“Mando?” you asked before he had the opportunity to do a curt hang up. From the other end he hummed, giving you permission to keep speaking.

“I don’t know what I’ll be like when you find me.” you breathed, heart beat picking up even faster as you found the courage to make your request. “I know what this drug does to people and how bad it can get… so… i-if it's bad please do whatever it is you have to do to me.” you choked out hands shaking as you held on to the data pad, hot tears slowly starting to fall from your eyes as you thought of the worst case scenarios. Mando having to wrestle down the primal animal you saw in the mirror. The great and threatening bounty hunter taking out his blaster and having to put you down like a rabid nexu before the drug claimed your mind and body in its entirety. A long pause came from the other end of the com link before there was a reply. “Okay.” he agreed. “I’ll be there in a few hours.” just like the night before he unceremoniously shut the com leaving you in silence. That was just as well because a few seconds after he shut the com you blacked out.

#copilot #din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #they/them reader #mando smut #mando x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the mandolarian #the mandalorian fanart #mando x reader #this is the way #ao3 fanfic #star wars

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ya-bug-boy · 11 months ago

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If you're still taking requests, may my horny ass request afab they/them reader x giovanni where the reader is his assistant/grunt? and lots of breeding kink involved :3 like I imagine reader being suuuuper horny because they're ovulating and it doesn't Not help that they already have a huge crush on their boss. their horny lil ass daydreaming about how virile he must be and how he needs to fuck the heir to team rocket into them until it actually happens 👀

(but no actual descriptions of the reader actually getting pregnant please 😭 it's the Gender Dysphoria™)

Giovanni x AFAB They/them Reader: Breeding kink

Running a yakuza gang is obviously quite dangerous but it helps to have someone as loyal as you.

You run the casino in Celadon City. Through Giovanni's connections, he managed to secure ownership to ensure a proper hideout, leaving you to manage the business. This means you often see him to talk about Team Rocket's plans and what you need to provide for him.

A morally bankrupt job for sure but you became a part of the Team Rocket family when you had nowhere else to go. You're painstakingly loyal to Giovanni almost to a fault.

A reward that grunts receive is obviously a wage that they couldn't get elsewhere, but the higher ranking members of Team Rocket such as the admins and moderators receive vacations or other luxurious gifts.

As a token of gratitude for your devotion towards Team Rocket, Giovanni has invited you to a personal vacation with him to the Unova region. While it's true that this is his gift and reward to you, it's obviously clear that you've got a thing for him.

He's tired of you waiting to make your move so he's going to fuck a confession out of you instead.

Hours after you arrive in Unova, you're already face down, ass up as Giovanni goes balls deep into your pussy. He's obviously doing this raw, you're left to take his hard cock repeatedly as he fucks you at a brutal pace you didn't anticipate for a man of his older age.

He can't stop talking, his words being louder than your moans so he knows you're listening of how he's going to fill you up, make you his, and be his breeding bitch.

His length and girth is just too much, you can't help but to cum, your pussy clenching and milking his cock as he doesn't stop, doesn't relent, not giving mercy.

With his firm grip on your hips, he slams his dick as deep as he could before filling you up, cum leaking at the seam of where his cock plugged your pussy.

He gives you only a brief moment to breath before you feel him thrust inside of you again. You turn your head to weakly look at him to see him smirk. Giovanni coos at you for a moment, his hands stroking your back before pulling your hips down again and again.

It's alright, he says. You're going to be his now. You're going to be his new breeding bitch.

#giovanni x reader #afab reader #they/them reader #avalonships asks

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mossmallowraccoon · 1 year ago

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Fiiiinally posted the next chapter of my Macaque X Reader fic XD gods I am the WORST at updating TnT

But! Hey, this is still my longest-running fic I’ve ever written, so pretty proud of myself even if the uploading schedule is bullshit. Lol

Here’s hoping next chapter comes out sooner!

Added the link in case anyone’s curious.

Reader is gender-neutral, uses they/them pronouns. Supposedly~? Human. Works in a theatre!

#lmk #lmk fanfiction #lmk x reader #lmk macaque #six eared macaque #monkie kid macaque #macaque x reader #macaque my beloved #x reader #ao3 writer #a candle in the dark #candleinthedark #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #gender neutral y/n

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the-and-sign-anon · 10 days ago

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Fire and Smoke: Part 4

Fandom: The Pitt

Word Count: 3,023

Tag List: @emma8895eb

Series Masterlist

While you figured that quitting meant you’d never really see your coworkers again, Shadow certainly felt differently. Your old teammates understood that you were going in a new direction and had never been too close with you anyway, so they let you go pretty easily. Jazz and Gran sat down with you when you announced you were leaving, talked about it a bit until you shut down the conversation.

Shadow held it together pretty well when you’d broken the news of your departure. He’d helped you pack up your belongings and clean out your locker when you left. A few days later, he chanced reaching out to check on you. You took it better than he expected and met with him for lunch. He tried not to get emotional; he succeeded most of the time.

You met with him about once every three weeks, getting lunch or coffee. He still asked you for advice about work, which you always gave. Shadow had cemented himself as one of the few people in your life you considered yourself to be close with. He was a good friend, a little bird under your wing. You never really thought he’d disappear from your life.

The last time you saw him was on a cool autumn afternoon. He stopped by the library to pick up a book and a few movies.

“Afternoon, Dex!”

You let a soft smile cross your face. His hair had been getting a little long, so he pulled half of it back in a ponytail.

“Hey, Shadow. How have things at the station been?”

“Pretty quiet for now. We’ve had a few minor calls, but nothing too bad. I’ve got the weekend off, so I’m having a little marathon with my roommates.”

“Ah, the boys. And how are they?”

Shadow handed you his library card and the stack of items.

“They’re all good. Joey’s over his cold. Max is making us dinner.”

You made a little noise of agreement. Max was quite a good cook according to Shadow.

“And Luca got back from his reunion, so we’re all together for the weekend.”

“That’s good! You’ll have to tell him I say hi.”

Shadow looked at you as you printed his checkout receipt.

“You don’t have to push formalities, Dex. Luca gets it.”

“Thank you.”

Shadow nodded. Luca was never big on formalities either, opting to say as little as possible to new people and launching straight into conversations instead of suffering through small talk. You liked him. He was a good kid, like Shadow.

“Thank you as always for your help. I’ll check in with you again next Tuesday.”

You waved goodbye and thought nothing of it.

On Tuesday night, you were wrapping up your book in your quiet little apartment. Shadow hadn’t called yet, which struck you as odd. He always kept your shared routines. You tried to distract yourself figuring out where to meet with Robby once you were both finished with the book. It was a big chance for you to take, trying to meet with him for coffee. It wasn’t just a simple book recommendation or baked goods dropped off at the ED. You were really trying to build something with him.

Just before midnight, still struggling to search for sleep, you got a phone call. Within two minutes, you were out the door and driving to the same ED that had managed to save you a year ago. Your parking job was shitty, but you were in no frame of mind to care. You moved on autopilot as you ran through the nearest doors and begged a nurse for information. You were rushed through to the trauma bay where a doctor with graying curls called out orders to the other staff.

Everyone moved in perfect sync, pushing meds, monitoring vitals, and gauging the severity of his burns. You stood in the corner by the doors, your hands shaking uncontrollably. You couldn’t even speak, just watching without really seeing what was happening. Shadow was barely hanging on. After a few moments, the doctor caught sight of you and sent a nurse to remove you.

“Excuse me, I need you to come-”

“No. I’m his- I need to be here. What’s happening to him?”

You planted your feet firmly in place. He’d been there for you, you would be there for him.

“Doctor Abbot-”

“I’m not going! I’m sorry, but he needs me!”

Abbot stepped away for a few seconds, the nurses continuing with their efforts as he moved to rest a hand on your shoulder. You dodged it, a harsh light in your eyes that told him to keep his distance. He raised his hands in a placating gesture, but you could hardly process what was happening.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N. I got the call, I need to see Shadow. I need to be with him.”

Abbot took note of your desperate tone and opened the door to show you out.

“Can we step out for just a second to talk?”

You watched Shadow on the gurney, still and surrounded by nurses. The energy around him was frantic. It set your entire being on edge.

“I can’t…”

“We’ll be just on the other side of these doors, he won’t even leave your sight.”

You half nodded and stepped out next to him, your hands pressed tightly together.

“You said we called you?” Another small nod. “So you’re his emergency contact. Are you a family member?”

“Uh, no. I’m- well, I was- his lieutenant. I retired, but we’re still in touch.”

Abbot nodded and forced his eyes away from the hustle and bustle in the trauma bay to watch you.

“How bad is it?”

You were hardly even blinking. Your hands were squeezed tight together, still shaking as you watched your former coworker like a hawk.

“It’s not good. He was caught in a building fire. His team couldn’t reach him for a while. He was brought in with partial or full thickness burns over most of his body. We’re doing everything we can right now, but we need you to stay clear of the space so we can work.”

“I can’t leave him. I can- I can stay in the corner, maybe? I’ll be out of the way, I just can’t leave him.”

Abbot considered this for a moment. He knew it wasn’t protocol. He knew Gloria would be pissed if she knew.

“Okay, come on.”

Abbot grabbed a stool and pushed it into the far corner of the room, where you perched to watch. He returned to the fray, one nurse catching him back up as they did all they could.

Your vision tunneled when the long, screeching beep sounded through the room. More medication was brought, a burn specialist appeared to advise, but the sound didn’t stop. Voices all blended together, bodies moved. Someone tried again to reach out to you and remove you.

All the fight drained out of you as a tall nurse wrapped her arm around you and guided you out. The touch sent prickling discomfort racing through you as you collapsed into a chair in the hallway. Your head sank down to your knees, your interlocked hands resting over the back of it.

You weren’t sure how long it was before someone came to get you. Your eyes stung, strained with the effort not to cry. Abbot stood in front of you with a somber expression. You couldn’t even look up, just focused in on his shoes inches from yours.

“You couldn’t get him back… could you?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. We did everything we could.”

“I know. You’re good people here. I…” you sniffled and prayed your tears wouldn’t start now. “I know you did your best. Can I see him? If there’s time?”

“Yeah. I can have him moved to the viewing room and you’ll have all the time you need.”

You mumbled a thanks and followed the gurney into a small, quiet room. The nurse closed the door behind her and left you alone. For nearly an hour, you just watched him. A part of you willed him to breathe again, to move and wake up and come back. It killed you to know he wouldn’t.

Eventually, you called each of his roommates. You’d only met any of them a handful of times, knowing far more about them from stories told by Shadow than by personal experience. You tried to keep your voice steady, to tell them where to go.

You called Luca first, who promised to get in touch with his family on the way. Max put you on speaker when you called so Joey could hear you. They caught a ride to the hospital as soon as they could. Another nurse led them into the room as they arrived. None of them knew what to say or do.

Luca broke down first. He fell to his knees next to you and gingerly leaned against your knee as the tears began to fall. He’d only been able to leave voicemails for Shadow’s sisters. His parents had passed a few years ago.

Max carefully took hold of one of his burnt, still hands. So much of his skin was blistered and pale, so far from his usual color and liveliness. Joey could hardly look at him for a few seconds before curling up in a chair and staring at the wall. None of you spoke. The only motion was your fingers slowly threading through Luca’s thick, dark red hair. Shadow had helped him dye it just two weeks ago.

Around four in the morning, you let the nurse know you were ready to leave. The boys trailed after you with red rimmed eyes and blank expressions. The staff gave you all sympathetic looks that went unnoticed. Shadow’s body was moved to the morgue. Abbot spared you one more glance as you walked out the doors to the parking lot.

The next few days were a blur. Shadow’s sisters came to town, one with her wife and two sons. A funeral was put together. You attended with the boys, Luca and Joey clinging to you in a way you would never ordinarily allow. Your old team attended alongside what felt to you like half the bureau.

The weather was blessedly cool, with clouds blocking the sun. It was Shadow’s favorite weather. He was always happier on stormy days than sunny ones. You listened as each of his sisters spoke, then his lieutenant. You’d declined to speak, not trusting your voice in front of so many at such a vulnerable occasion. You just stood there, in your all black suit, holding Luca’s hand in your right, Joey wrapping both hands around your left arm. You weren’t sure who was supporting who more.

When the service concluded and most attendees left, you approached his sisters. Melanie and Georgia were wiping away their tears, Georgia’s boys both holding each other in their seats. The two women tried for smiles when you reached them, though it didn’t result in much.

“I’m not sure if you know me, but I was Shadow’s lieutenant for a while. I retired from the bureau a year ago. He was- he was a good man.”

“You’re Dex?”

You nodded.

“He talked about you a lot. He thought the world of you.”

You sniffled and looked down at the grass.

“I’ll never understand why. He was… so positive. Like a… golden retriever. So eager to please, ready to learn.”

The women laughed a little, quickly devolving into more sniffles.

“I guess he made me his emergency contact. I was… I was there when they brought him to the ED. I just want to say I’m sorry for your loss.”

Melanie wiped at her eyes and met your gaze for as long as you could manage.

“Alfie loved what he did. He talked about wanting to be a firefighter since he was… probably seven years old. It was his dream. We’re glad he got to live it. And we’re glad he had someone here to show him how. To look out for him when we couldn’t.”

You nodded softly. There was so much more you wished you’d done for him.

Despite yourself, you offered them both a hug. Once you stepped back, you wiped your eyes and said your goodbyes. You caught up with the boys in the parking lot and sent them home to their apartment. Then you got into your own car and started driving.

You didn’t end up at home. You just kept on driving, out of city limits and beyond. It wasn’t until some time after midnight that your eyes grew heavy and you pulled off the road at a truck stop. You staggered into the convenience store and bought a too small throw blanket and a travel pillow. You fell asleep in the passenger seat, cranked back to get some approximation of a sleeping position.

In the morning, you called your manager to tell them you were taking more time off than you’d originally intended, that you didn’t want to talk about it, but you’d need a full week off.

The only consistent stops you made were to fill up on gas and get enough food and drink to keep yourself going. You ended up in a little town near the northern tip of Maine called Hancock. You stayed for two days. You walked along the rivers and the beaches. No one spoke to you, no one asked you anything.

One evening, wrapped in a thick sweater that nearly fell to your knees, you laid on your hood and stared up at the sky. In the cold and the quiet, you took one shuddering breath after another.

Shadow was gone.

He was never coming back.

At four in the morning in a town you’d never heard of until you arrived, you slipped your phone from your pocket and put on Shadow’s favorite playlist. He’d made it for you himself, having stolen your phone one afternoon while you baked and promising you you’d love it. You hadn’t listened to it once since he made it, figuring it would be full of stuff you would never pick out yourself.

It started with soft folk tunes. Gently plucked guitar strings, smooth, low vocals that warmed you through the October chill. Without your permission, tears cascaded down your face, trailing to the edges of your ears before you tucked your hands up to stop them.

You’d never told Shadow your favorite artists, and you knew he was far more inclined to lively rock or niche punk bands.

When you ran out of tears to cry, you took deep, measured breaths. The cold settled in at your back, prickling at you even through your sweater. Even so, you remained there. Pressed against the metal, Shadow’s voice in your head just beneath the songs he’d chosen just for you.

He was the closest you’d ever come to having a sibling or a child. He looked up to you. Trusted you. Liked you. Listened to you. He was your little duckling, your little shadow.

And he was gone.

At nearly six in the morning, you slid off the hood and slipped back into your car. You drove until you found a motel and checked in. You spent nearly sixteen hours sleeping before waking up in a haze. You forced down a dinner, then went right back to bed. The next day, you started back towards Pittsburgh.

You took your time, stopping at attractions advertised on billboards and markets as shown on wooden signs pounded into the dirt.

Just an hour outside Pittsburgh nine days after Shadow took his last breath, you pulled up to an Autumn festival in Kittanning. There were laughing children, a pumpkin carving station, and fresh apple cider. Everyone looked so… happy.

You slowed to a stop when you came across a man sitting next to a little enclosure full of reddish golden retrievers. The five puppies were playing around, yipping at each other and tumbling head over paws as they tried to climb atop their mother.

“Interested in gettin’ a pup?”

“Hm?”

The man straightened in his chair.

“My neighbor’s golden got my girl Maizy here pregnant and I gotta get the puppies to new homes now.”

You looked down at the collection of dogs. Two had classic golden fur, while the other three had a deeper, more red color. One puppy sat at the edge of the group, staring up at you as you watched them all. Against your better judgement, you knelt down and reached in with one hand, letting the curious creatures sniff at you and lick your fingertips.

You felt a smile break across your face, the first since you received that fateful call.

“I uh… I don’t live here in town. I live in Pittsburgh. I don’t know if I can…”

“Tell you what. They’re old enough to leave Maizy. I’ve been house training them as best I can. They’re healthy little critters. If I can’t find a home for one after… two months, I could reach out and see if you’re still interested.”

Your eyes flickered up to him.

“You sure?”

“Oh, sure. I can see you’d be a good pet owner. It’s all in the eyes.”

You huffed out a little laugh and looked back down as the quiet one nudged at your fingers. You gently brushed your hand over its back and stood again. You exchanged names and numbers with the man, then moved on.

For the rest of the day, you thought of that dog. Maybe a little companionship would do you some good. But you had to think rationally. You had no supplies for a dog. You’d never trained one yourself before. This wasn’t a spur of the moment kind of decision. You had to consider it, turn it over in your mind, look at all the angles.

Four days after your return to Pittsburgh, you called Ian and arranged a day to pick up your new dog, then spent the afternoon buying everything you could possibly need. Your home was about to change forever, you had to be ready.

#haven writes #my writing #the pitt x reader #robby x reader #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch x reader #michael 'robby' robinavitch x reader #former firefighter! reader #reader insert #nonbinary! reader #they/them reader #fire and smoke

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callie-oh-pee · 5 months ago

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The Dog That Got Away

summary: you lose your dog! (slight gn!reader x martin blackwood)

MIGHT CONTINUE LATER‼️‼️

SHIT!

You don't know how he slipped out of your grasp but now as you stand there you can see your beloved dog absolutely BOOKING it down the street out of eyeline.

You attempt to catch up to your adorable new puppy, but eventually lose sight of him once he runs down a side street.

Following the small dog you come across a tall building with its door wide open, assuming that that is where your dog has gone, you go inside.

You see a woman at the front desk looking panicked, you ask her if she has seen a dog and her eyes light up. "YES, that little puppy is reeking havoc in the Archives. Just go down that hallway and collect your rambunctious dog please."

The woman looks relieved as you head in the direction she specified.

As you are walking down the long hallway, calling your dogs name you run into a tall, scarred man. He introduces himself as "Tim" and askes what you are doing in the Archives.

He almost pisses himself laughing when you tell him that you are looking for your dog.

He happily takes you the rest of the way to the Archives, where you can see two people attempting to catch your adorable dog.

All you have to do to get your dog back is a simple, "Rocco!" and the small cocker spaniel comes bounding over. As you re-leash your dog, jokingly scolding the small dog, the two people come over to you.

They both wear very different emotions on their faces, one is happy and one is angry? or just plain annoyed.

The annoyed one speaks first, "I'm assuming that is your dog? Thanks for retrieving it." he sounds sarcastic but you pay no mind to it just uttering a simple "No problem."

The happy one speaks next, "His name is Rocco? How cute!"

You smile at the cute guy and nod, "Yeah I got him a few weeks ago, he's such a handful. This is not the first time he has done this trust me."

"I'm Martin by the way, I'm the one who accidentally let your dog into the Institute." he reaches his hand out for a handshake and you introduce yourself.

The angry man, who has the same scars as Tim, introduces himself next as "Jonathan Sims".

#they/them reader #the magnus archives #martin blackwood x reader #jonathan sims #tim stoker

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adhdwriterfr3ak · 2 months ago

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got a teen!van x reader in the works !!

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fictioncupid · 2 months ago

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Put the World on the Demolition Strip Baby; We're Gonna Watch the Sunrise. (they/them ver) (NSFW)

Looking for the he/him version?

Ao3 link! - Put the World on the Demolition Strip Baby; We're Gonna Watch the Sunrise.

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG OR COMMENT. (This is my new writing blog! This is not stolen content! I've just moved!)

Summary:

Ronin’s sat above you, weight resting heavy over one of your thighs with his hands braced near your head, dark red-purple hair falling in heavy strands around your face. There’s blood on his cheek, smudged. It’s not his own. You want to lick it off him. You can feel the weight of his crowbar creasing a heavy dent on the pillow above your head. It should scare you. To know that your boyfriend is a vicious murderer. That his favourite murder weapon of choice is resting so close to you. You can smell the blood on it, have been able to since you opened the bag, since he walked in with it. It only serves to rile you up more. Your hips twitch upwards in tiny little humping movements. Ronin's grinning so wide it almost splits his face. God, there must be something wrong with you to want this so much.

OR,

todays the day you get intimately acquainted with Ronin's crowbar.

12,215 words :)

Pronouns & genital terms used!:

Ronin- he/him, cock, cunt

Reader- they/them, clit, pussy, cunt, entrance

CW/TW under cut! THIS IS DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT CONTENT. READ THE CW, HEED THE CW; IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT!

CW: D/S dynamics, sex, power imbalances, blood (not period), some dysphoria talk relating to bottom growth (dw we resolve it, no unresolved trans angst in my porn nuh-uh), uh Ronin being gross and reader being unapologetically into it.

TW: unhealthy relationship dynamics? (like don’t actually date a serial killer that shit CANNOT be good for you) blood, BLOOD, murder mentions, deranged thinking, inappropriate use of a crowbar, complete ignorance of blood borne pathogens and safe sex, uhhhh sexy murder talk, also MAD sexualisation of murder and serial killing throughout the whole thing

Also, ik ronin’s technically had both top n bottom surgery in like the quasi-canon of tumblr facts but i am currently horny for bottom growth and tdicks so TRY AND STOP ME YOU CANNOT MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

××××××××××

You already knew your boyfriend was a killer. Had known since you joined that damn chat server, way before you met him in person, but this is the first time you’ve seen the evidence first hand. As something more than just a news article or a ‘funny’ photograph dumped in #killer-shit by Ronin himself. …You didn't expect to find it so thrilling.

You’d always told yourself you were okay with it. That you would learn to be okay with it. Hells, you met Ronin for the first time in the alleyway he likes to commit his murders in, it's not like you could claim ignorance.

He'd been covered in blood then too, but you'd brushed past it. Told yourself it was his own. That Ronin's nose was bleeding when you met him. That's where the blood was from. That you were a good person and you could save him. Fix him. Told yourself that you wanted to. You had to, right? Never mind that you only decided all this after you’d gotten home, heart racing with adrenaline from your little meetup, telling yourself that the throbbing in your clit was from ‘misattribution of arousal’ and not how electric it had felt to have Ronin kiss you in the place he normally kills people.

Still, you've never been able to crush the niggling little worry that when you come face to face with it, when you are finally confronted with evidence so overwhelming that you can deny it no longer, that you’d balk. Turn tail and run for the hills because as much as you love your boyfriend- you are no killer. You can’t even really stomach the sight of blood. Normally it makes you sick and queasy. So you avoid it; as much as you can, you dodge and drop the topic like it’s on fire and you’re out of water so you have to avoid getting burned.

Ronin seems to have more faith in you though. Whether it stems from your unwavering addiction devotion to his devilish persona, or from the glassy eyed stare you gave him that day in Purgatory when he brought out his knife. How you didn’t even flinch when he pressed it to your throat, just stared into his wild, wicked eyes and whispered, ‘so are you kissing me now, or after? I have to say I’d much prefer now.’

That had Ronin cracking up. He’d lowered the knife in favour of clutching his knees, bent over double as a wild cackle ripped free from his throat. When he finally stopped laughing enough to speak he'd said, ‘I, a certified serial killer, the butcher, the devil himself, just threatened your life and you’re asking me to kiss you? Awh baby, darlin’. I’ve thought as much before, but now I’m certain that we’re a match made in hell.’ Ronin had then crowded you into the wall, gently pressed the knife into your hands, cupped your face and kissed you. It’d taken your breath away. Still does to think about it.

You could have killed him then. Probably should of. It's what he was suggesting when he handed you the knife; giving you an out if you really were somehow bluffing. That was Ronin through and through; impossibly kind in the most deranged possible manner. And you loved him.

But the thought had crossed your mind, once or twice. That maybe you weren't built for this. For him. You can’t look at the news articles he posts in announcements, or the photos in #killer-shit, or watch scary movies with him without crying and screaming at the tension, the jumpscares, and the gore. Always trying to hide in the fabric of his shirt, behind his jacket, hands pressed tight over your ears to block out the sounds. You’re pretty sure the only reason Ronin’s okay with it is that he finds your innocence endearing, cute even, and your tears hot. Proven by how he forces you to sit still afterwards, both hands gripping your face tight so you can’t back away from him as he looms above you, blocking out the light from the television so all you can see is him. Vision filled with his devilish beauty; his face twisting in a mock version of pity as he traces the path your tears took with his fingers.

The television behind Ronin serving to make him look like a fallen angel by Christening him with a halo of blue light, spilling out from behind the little plastic horns glued to his beanie. He’d be sickened by the thought. Ronin leaning in and licking the tears off your face. Shushing you softly and rubbing his thumb over your lip when you open your mouth to ask why? You don’t get it.

But Ronin fucks you so sweetly when he’s done. You think it’s a prize for withstanding the horror, his horror. That, or it turns him when you let him push you so close to the edge, let him make you cry and tremble with fear before soothing it away with the thick line of his cock. He always lets you curl into his chest afterwards, rocks you to sleep while reciting odd, esoteric poetry from the depths of his mind that you think might be about how much he loves you. You hope.

But you do worry- or, you did worry, that one day Ronin would come home to you while covered in proof that he was out hunting more than just animals, or that one day you would read the wrong article about him, or that someone would tell you about a gruesome murder done by none other than the ‘devilish butcher’, and you’d never be able to look at him the same again. That the room wouldn’t light up around his smile anymore. Instead it would seep sinister into your dreams and invade the cracks in your head with its polluting light and then you would have to leave. Quietly. Unable to face the man you love and tell him you’ve finally realised what he’s been telling you all along: that he’s a monster.

Well, that day is today. You heard Ronin leave early this morning, slide out of bed while it was still dark, too dark for him to be leaving for work, despite your whining and pleading for ‘five more minutes’. Telling him, ‘nooooo ‘Nin, cuddles,’ when Ronin chuckled and said he had work to do. You’d drifted grumpily back into a half sleep when you felt a gloved hand brush over your forehead before Ronin stooped to press a gentle kiss there.

‘I’ll be back real soon, darlin’. Keep dreaming of me while I’m gone.’ You’d opened your eyes blearily to catch sight of him leaving, dressed all in black with a mask pulled up over his mouth and nose. Ronin had waved his crowbar at you merrily before tucking it in his coat and under his arm and strutting jauntily out the door. You’d thought he looked like an angel then too. Not that you’d ever tell him that. It wasn’t until sometime later, after you’d woken up properly and had some time to think about it, that you realised this was the first confirmed time you’d seen him leave to go kill someone.

You’d seen him after he’d killed plenty of times before, when he was still loopy and ecstatic from the thrill and the rush, but the perks of not living together fully yet had meant it was usually after he’d showered. And while he was one to brag, he never seemed to go into specifics, at least not with you. He was usually more preoccupied with bedding you anyways. Excitement leaking into his movements as he’d throw you onto the bed, grin at your outraged squeaks and then shut you up by rutting his thick cock against your mouth until he was satisfied.

But this time, this time is different. This time you know where he’s going, what he’s doing. And you’re just sitting around his apartment, docile, waiting for him to come back. Drinking tea and making breakfast like nothing is different. And maybe it isn’t. It certainly doesn’t feel different. That’s what you’re convincing yourself anyways. Until Ronin opens the door with a slam and struts in, whistling. You don’t jump like you usually do, a phased calm shifting over you when you see him, like you’re settled in your own skin for the first time in your life; like you didn’t even realise something was wrong until suddenly it wasn’t.

Black backpack in one hand, Ronin is conspicuously free of both his gloves, his mask and his crowbar. He almost looks normal when he sees you, but his eyes are wild when you make eye contact. You freeze in place, standing off the side of his kitchenette after placing your dishes in the sink. Ronin’s grin is feral, laced with something evil and you should be scared. You want to be scared as his eyes scan up and down your body, dressed only in one of his worn out oversized sleep shirts; Ronin looks upon you like prey and you shiver.

There’s blood on his face. Just a trickle by his mouth, obscure and miniscule enough it could be his own but you can’t deny it any more. It’s not his. It's someone else’s. Someone he’s killed. Your boyfriend is a killer. A stone cold killer, for the sick, sick thrill. Your legs feel weak and your head spins with how quickly all the blood in your body rushes south, at the thought of how dangerous he is. Your clit twitches in anticipation as if to say ‘hello Ronin, darling. How I've missed you.’

‘Hey there darlin’. Got you all pavlov’d up for me, huh baby?’ Ronin’s eyes are dark with delight as they flick from your face to where you're fidgeting and rubbing your thighs together to try alleviate the heavy ache in your clit. ‘Just can’t wait to have my cock split open those pretty little folds of yours, can you? Well, too bad. You’ll have to be patient while I put this away first, but then I’m all yours darlin’.’ Ronin winks at you comically. You don't laugh, you can’t.

Ronin gestures with the bag to show you what he’s talking about and the word, ‘Don’t.’ slips out your mouth before you can think to stop it. He raises an eyebrow at you.

‘What’s got my sweet little saint all riled up today?’ Ronin’s looking at you with curiosity on his face, clearly expecting an answer but you don't have one. You barely have any thoughts at all other than the raging need to see it, to see proof with your own eyes.

You get to your feet with your pulse racing and your hands numb and tingling. It feels like all the blood in your body is in your head. Or your feet. Or your cunt. It thrumbs heartily with every step you take towards him. The excitement and thrill starts to slip off Ronin’s face and he’s watching you with a calculating look, like he knows today's the day. It softens slightly when you slip one hand into his, press a soft kiss to his lips and gently take the bag from him with your other hand.

The bag’s heavier than it looks, and it should repulse you- the thought that there’s a murder weapon in here, a heavy metal crowbar stained with blood. Someone else's blood. The weight of it should spring a sick dose of reality to the forefront of your mind but as you kneel before the bag and slowly unzip it all you can picture is how strong Ronin is to be able to swing such a heavy implement at someone accurately and with ease. How he'd look in the moment. The strong lines of his shoulder and back, the tension in his arms and the ecstatic- no, the crazed expression he must have as he swings the crowbar above his head and brings it down again and again with one sick crunch after another.

You feel like you can't get enough air though you're breathing heavier than you should be. Your face is aflame and it’s making you dizzy. You shove the sides of the backpack down with shaking hands, and it’s there. Wrapped in a white plastic bag, you can see the thick outline of the metal and the blood that’s pooling in the folds and creases of the bag around it. You reach out to peel the plastic back but a hand catches you by the chin, and turns your head to face him: Ronin. Your God. Your devil.

Ronin’s taken his jacket off, kneeling on one knee as he looks at you with curiosity and stress on his face. Like he’s equally fascinated and worried by your reaction. That is, until he catches sight of your blown pupils and open mouth, watches the way your eyes race across his features, between his brown eyes and soft lips. Darting down to trace the line of his body, your gaze flickers back and forth between his strong arms, the slope of his pecs, and the crease in his trousers hiding the bulge of his cock. You lick your lips, mouth startlingly dry.

Ronin’s face cracks into a wide grin, eyes starting to relight with the fire from his kill, ‘Well hello there, lost little lamb. Are you in need of a Shepherd? Or ‘ve you finally found what you’ve been lookin’ for?’ His gaze lands on the bag and you look at it, mouth dry, and then look at him, like you’re waiting for permission, his permission. Ronin raises his brows at you, delighted grin on his features, tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth, challenging you.

You turn back to the bag, are just reaching in it when you feel the heavy weight of your boyfriend settle itself along your back. His head rests in the crook of your neck, content to just watch as his hands stroke lightly up and down the sides of your stomach.

Your hands are shaking as you reach in the bag, gently peel back the plastic. The bag sticks to itself in the places there's blood pooling. The blood gets on your hands as you unwrap it. It's wet. And cold. Did you want it to be warm? Hot with life? Spurting from a still beating heart in a steady wet, hot pump? You shudder, full bodied and Ronin cackles, delighted by your reaction, beside your ear, leaning in to press a kiss against your cheek as you slide your fingers under the crowbar, feeling the heavy weight of it.

‘You like it, baby? You feel it? You like me?’ One of Ronin’s hands slides down to press against the front of your crotch and you gasp, hips rutting up into the feeling. Ronin inhales sharply, you feel it against your temple. ‘Awh, baby. Darlin’. Fucking knew it. Knew you wanted this since that day in Purgatory, before that, even. Might have been able to hide it from everyone else with your little ‘innocent lamb’ act but I knew you wanted more the second you entered the slaughterhouse and didn’t run screaming for the hills. You’re a sick, sick pervert huh?’

Ronin huffs a laugh against your temple and you want to say something, anything to deny it, deny him, but your hips are humping up against his hand in these minute, fricative little pulses you can’t quite control and you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life. You squirm in his arms. Ronin slides his hand down, large fingers pressing firmly against the soaked seat of your underwear, rocking them back and forth gently until his middle finger settles between your folds, presses a delicious friction up against your clit.

‘Just had to bring it out in you, didn’t I darlin’? You needed the devil to come along and corrupt your sweet little aorta so you wouldn’t have to take the blame, wouldn’t have to admit that you like this. That you want this, almost as much as you want me. Isn’t that right, baby?’ Ronin’s voice is barely a whisper but you hear every word loud and clear. Your face burns and your pussy is throbbing with need.

You whimper, high pitched in your throat and Ronin shushes you, presses a gentle kiss to your fluttering eyelid. ‘Shhhh, don’t you worry, darlin’. I’ll take all the blame this time. Now, let the devil take you on down to hell.’ Ronin is going to be the death of you. You moan low in your throat and press your cunt harder against his hand, he rubs slow circles over your clit with the top of his palm, presses two fingers firmly over your entrance and rubs them over it.

Your fingers grasp shut on the thick, cold, hard metal of the crowbar. It’s positively wet with blood. Ronin laughs by your ear again, a high pitched giggle you’ve never heard him make before. It sounds exactly as deranged as his usual cackling laugh. You turn your head to look at him, nose brushing his face you’re so close and he says, ‘watch’ as he slides his hands to cover your own. The one that was down your pants is sticky and wet where it lays over the back of your hand. Your breath stutters at the loss of friction against your pussy. Ronin presses a kiss against the side of your eye. ‘Patience, baby. Patience. Good things come to those who wait, don’t ‘cha know?’ He laughs again, a light huff of breath ghosting over your eyelashes. You’re not sure if it's directed at you or his own words. You really don’t care.

Ronin turns one of your hands over. Adjusts your grip so you have one hand wrapped tight around the bottom of the crowbar and the other supporting slightly above it. You feel lightheaded. Ronin’s hands are wrapped tight over yours as he lifts them up, raises them up beside your head, as if you’re going to- as if you could- ‘Ready, darlin’?’ Ronin asks, voice a sickly low drawl. You can feel your clit twitching a steady one-two. Thumping away with your heartbeat in your underwear. You swallow thickly. Ronin tightens his grip over yours, then resettles and rests more of his weight against your back.

It feels like he’s everywhere. You can’t think. You can only imagine how hard he must be. Cock twitching away in his underwear. You think of him fucking you. You think of fucking him. His face as he moans. You think of the crowbar pressed tight across your throat, the wild grin on Ronins face as he’d watch the light slip from your eyes; if he would stop before it was too late.

‘I asked you a question darlin’.’

You can’t look away from your tight grip on the crowbar. Your hands, wet and sticky with blood, seeping between your fingers and dribbling down over your knuckles. The vivid red colour smudging underneath Ronin’s tight grip over your hands. You don’t think you’re breathing. You nod, minutely, fractured, frantically. Unable or unwilling to make a bigger move lest it wretch your sight from where you need it.

You feel the tension in your boyfriend's arms as they pull back slightly, the thickness of his muscles as they recoil and, ‘Whoosh! Ha-ha!’, let go. Your arms swing forwards, the motion contained and precise, using only the exact needed strength and precision to knock the now empty backpack straight into the wall. A whimper leaves your throat, high pitched and strangled. The feeling- when the swing connected, the contraction of Ronin’s muscular arms around you, how powerful the blow had felt. You’re gonna pass out. The jolt of electricity you feel in your clit almost hurts. Your hips rock down, seeking friction that isn’t there.

‘Ronin.’ It comes out gasped, guttural, full of want and need.

‘Yeah. You like it, baby? You like me, huh? In all my grotesque delight?’ Ronin presses his grin to your cheek; you’re sure it would be a kiss if he could stop smiling. ‘Sweet little thing finally realised they’re dating The Butcher? Also known as The Devil Himself, darlin’.’ Ronin’s nosing against your face as he says this, you can feel his wicked smile brushing your cheek as he does. You lean back against him, squirming, trying to rub yourself against him or turn around to see him, but Ronin tightens his grip on your hands, brings your focus back to the crowbar and says, ‘ah-ah-ah, we’re not quite done yet baby. How about… some target practice?’

Ronin lets go of your hands, slides out from behind you and saunters into the kitchen.

He flashes you a winning smile before slamming open one of the kitchen cupboards with a bang. Ronin watches you for your reaction; always does when he pulls shit like this, but you barely even notice the noise. Hands limp around the crowbar, it rests heavy against your thighs, leaving bloody red smudges on them. Your eyes are fixated instead on Ronin’s broad shoulders. How the blood on his hands is leaving smudges against the white cupboard doors.

You’re so weak in the knees about it- about him, that when Ronin waves you over to the kitchen counter while setting a series of increasingly ugly mugs against its edge, you forget about the crowbar and stumble as the weight of it pulls you forward. Your knees buckle beneath you, and you land sprawled out on the carpet. You hear Ronin laugh from somewhere above you while you’re still staring at the carpet in shock. You watch as his spiked shoes stride slowly into view. When Ronin bends at the waist and his face swims into your vision, he’s wearing the same twisted version of faux-pity he wears after you’ve white-knuckled it through a horror movie with him.

‘Awh, sweetheart… Somebody’s desperate. You just can’t get enough of me, can you?’ He boops his knuckle against your cheeks and then your nose. Embarrassment floods through you, tinting your face red. You should be affronted. Humiliated. Or maybe some shade of afraid, but it’s hard to be with your sweet, loving, murderous boyfriend leaning over you with an entirely fond look on his face. Eyes alight like you’re what he’s been waiting for since the dawn of time, or, since the birth of Lucifer. Arousal curls hotly around your spine and joins the rutting, swirling mess in your gut. The sticky, wet-hot mess in your panties. The thought swims through your mind that you could come from just this; him standing over you, mocking you so sweetly. Maybe if he put the sole of his boot against your clit then…

‘R-Ronin…’

Ronin puts a hand behind his ear, tilts his head towards you in an over-exaggerated pretence of listening, ‘What’s that, sweetheart?’ You swallow, mouth dry.

‘Ronin.’

‘One more time, say my name, darlin’.’ It’s obvious he’s teasing you. Has been since the very start, but then an idea strikes you, and you can’t not.

‘Butcher.’ Falls from your lips, breathless and Ronin groans. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged it out loud. He turns his upper body away from you for a second, running his hand through his hair. His beanie falls off and hits the lino behind him with a clatter but neither of you turn to look at it. There’s blood in his hair when he faces you again. Sticking strands of it together as it falls back in his face and the look on it, half-pained, half-giddy, flushed red high on his cheekbones.

‘What you do to me, darlin’. Flesh ‘n’ bone pretty, I told you.’ It comes out choked, less drawled than usual and your heartbeat skips a wicked step to be having an effect on him too.

‘Still, we should save that for after. C’mere, upsy daisies.’ Ronin says as he tucks his hands under your armpits and drags you to stand on your wobbly legs. Holy shit your boyfriend is strong.

You leave the crowbar on the floor. Have no choice but to. You crowd into Ronin’s space as soon as you’re able, put your hands on his neck, his cheeks, follow the action by pressing kisses to the blood left behind by your hands. Ronin laughs the whole time, and he’s beautiful. He puts his hands on your hips and pulls you into him. Catches you in a blinding, tummy fluttering, pussy burning kiss. One hand gripped tight on the back of your neck, the other tugs at the front of your panties until they slip up between your pussy lips.

‘Roniinnn.’ You whine. He presses wet, hot kisses down your neck like a trail of fire.

‘What? You don’t like it? I think you look rather… ravishing, like this. Could just devour you like this.’ Ronin tugs on your underwear again and again and it pulls tight around your clit, you moan in stuttering little breaths at the friction. ‘Sounds like you do.’ Ronin groans, kisses open mouthed at your neck. You shake your head, movement restricted by his tight grip on the back of your neck, his lips slide wetly against your skin. Ronin bares his teeth against your neck, not biting, but warning, and you freeze. ‘I think you do~’ Ronin murmurs, singsong. He uses his grip on the back of your neck to make you nod. You’ve never been more turned on and more embarrassed at the same time.

‘No?’ Ronin pulls away from your neck to look you in the eye. Your face is burning with shame. You shake your head minutely, unable to hold eye contact with him as you lie. ‘Shame.’ Ronin mutters. He nips at your neck with his teeth, if it felt anything other than good you’d think it’s punishment for lying to him. He presses an open mouthed, wet kiss against it after, laves his tongue over it like he’s apologising but you know he’s just enjoying tasting the bruise.

Ronin then yanks your underwear down your legs in one smooth motion, and pulls away to lead you to the counter with his fingers linked through yours. He pauses briefly, stooping down to pick up the crowbar at your feet. ‘Can’t forget this now can we?’ He waves it at you cheekily. ‘Alright,’ Ronin looks over his shoulder at you, ‘C’mere darlin’, I don’t bite.’

That’s a bold faced lie; Ronin does bite, the bastard, but you shuffle up behind him anyways. Wrap your arms around him and attempt to peak over his shoulder but you’re too short. You can just sort of make out his hands as he lines up ugly mug after ugly mug.

‘Not pugsley!’ You gasp. Pugsley is a truly horrific, yellow, pug-faced, square shaped mug with an inside lip that creates a circle rim. You got it at a yard sale. It’s impossible to drink out of. At some point Ronin superglued googly eyes over the pugs' own to create this truly awful 3D effect. You both delight in serving the other beverages in it at seemingly random moments, hoping to catch the other off guard and startle them into laughter. The rule being that if you laugh then you have to drink out of it. Which is impossible, and usually a hilarious speedrun of how fast one person can spill a drink down themselves. Ronin gets you more than you get him, but the few memorable moments where you caught him off guard enough to succeed are more than worth it.

Ronin laughs, ‘Alright, alright. Not pugsley.’ You’re sure he only put him in the lineup to start with to get a reaction out of you. He puts his fingers on the top of the mug and sends it sliding towards the sink. It falls in with a clatter. You hope it didn’t break.

Ronin lines up four mugs, one in front, three behind, and places the crowbar down beside them. It sticks briefly to his hands where the blood is starting to dry. You watch his skin peel away from it with your heart in your throat. ‘Now come here.’ Ronin grabs you from behind him and pulls you round in front of him.

‘What are we doing?’ Your clit still feels heavy and hot and present between your legs and you think that there are other things you’d much rather be doing with your boyfriend at this very second.

‘I told you darlin’. Target practice.’ Ronin waves a hand fluidly as the scene in front of him. Oh. So that’s what he was doing. You consider complaining, putting it off and dragging your boyfriend to bed but if it’s target practice, if he’s teaching you, then surely you’ll get to see him swing his crowbar at least once. That’s not something you can gloss over and pretend you don’t want, because oh boy do you want. Plus, the rewards for playing along with whatever challenge Ronin sets for you that day tend to be on the more generous side, and you really want to see what his sick mind cooks up for you this time. Your pussy will survive this brief pause.

‘Usually I prefer my targets a little more… alive. But, I’ll make an exception. For you, this once.’ The look Ronin gives you is playful, but you can’t be sure if he means it. There’s as much chance that the next time Ronin lets you touch his crowbar may be as contingent on the idea of you killing someone as it’s not. The thought sends a sick, desperate thrill down your spine.

Ronin guides you in front of him, hands on your waist, ‘Feet shoulder width apart.’ His voice is a mocking drawl. You do it anyway. ‘Good job baby!’ He’s talking down to you, like you’re a child. It shouldn’t turn you on but it does. You shudder in response. Ronin wraps his arms around you, over your shoulders. Dances his fingertips down your arms to settle them over your hands. He wraps them around the crowbar, tight and draws both your arms back.

‘You wanna bend your knees, be about thiiiss far away from your target,’ He measures the distance between you and the counter with his arm, then reapplies his grip over yours. He slides your top hand down towards the bottom, ‘And keep a good, tight grip, just like that, but you don’t wanna grip it too high. You’ll catch your hand in the swing and soften the blow. Can’t crack any skulls when you’re pullin’ your punches now can ya’, darlin’?’

Ronin demonstrates the swing trajectory a few times, pulling your hands through the motions to practice. You’re nervous, heart racing like this is the real thing. Your hands dip slightly when Ronin lets go and steps back, the crowbar is heavy and the full weight of it pulls them down slightly. You’re struck once again with awe over how strong Ronin is.

‘Try line up your shot first.’ Ronin’s hand presses against the small of your back when you don’t move. You breathe in slowly through your nose, then exhale through your mouth. You hear Ronin take a few steps back. You line the curved tip of the crowbar up with the mug, practice your shot, once, twice, pull back and then swing. The mug explodes when the crowbar connects with it. You see it in slow motion. The pieces fly everywhere. You stumble as the weight of the crowbar and the momentum of the swing pull you along with it before Ronin’s arms catch you around your waist and keep you from falling.

You giggle hysterically when the world catches back up to you and you’re held safely in your boyfriend’s arms, crowbar held stiffly and awkwardly out in front of you. Your elbows ache slightly. You lean your head back against Ronin’s shoulder to see his face in all its beauty. His eyes are dark as he looks at you and all you can think is how much you love him. How much you want him. You’re maybe a little high off the thrill. The rush. This is a murder weapon. Your boyfriend’s murder weapon. It’s been used to kill people. Your boyfriend kills people. Your pussy flutters back to life now that the pressure is off. You did good. You feel good. You try rubbing your thighs together to get some friction against your clit.

‘Good job, baby.’ This one isn’t mocking, it’s entirely sincere and you squirm under the weight of it. Ronin doesn’t give direct compliments easy. He presses a kiss to your temple and laughs loudly, ‘I’ll make a murderer out of you yet.’ It’s something Ronin says to you often, and you usually laugh it off, brushing it under the rug of ‘usual Ronin antics’, but, maybe he’s been serious this whole time. The thought makes you gulp. Your pussy is drooling between your thighs. Leaving sticky wet marks between them.

‘What? You didn’t think I was joking, did’ja?’ Ronin’s eyes are twinkling with delight as he says it and your mouth runs dry. Oh shit. He wasn’t joking. ‘Now, watch me work!’ Ronin steps back from you slowly, making sure you’re not too loopy and dazed to stand on your own before prying the crowbar from your frozen fingers and dancing around you to line up another mug.

‘Step back baby. Don’t want to hit ya’. Least, not yet.’ You laugh at his teasing. For all Ronin’s threats of killing you, you know he’d miss you far too much. Or, miss the prospect of killing you after the rush fades. You think you’re okay with either. As long as it keeps you alive and in his arms.

‘What about my target practice?’ You say, Ronin looks down pointedly at your hands, they’re shaking. The blood that’s transferred from the crowbar is starting to dry and flake off around your fingers. You can’t help but feel a little… disappointed. You tuck them behind your back. Ronin is watching you silently. When you look up he flashes you a cheesy grin and waves his crowbar in a little circle like he’s saying ‘batter up!’ He’s already put all three remaining mugs in a little row on the edge of the counter.

You’re waiting for him to line up his shot when crack. Ronin’s arms shoot out and hit the first mug dead centre and you’re struck by what a vision your boyfriend is. Ceramic shattering to dust in front of him, the long line of his arms held out, wielding his crowbar with finesse and ease like it’s a part of him. An extension. Crack. The wild glee lighting up his face as he pulls his arms back and cackles, head tipping back with the laugh and then forwards again to face his target, the deadly serious look in his eyes as he locks in on the next mug, his hair falling in his eyes, tendrils sticky and wet looking with the drying blood. Crack. Your own bloody handprints littering his face and neck. He looks divine. Saint like. You would kill for him, you realise with a start. You will kill for him. Some day. Maybe soon.

‘’Nin…’ You say. Ronin looks over at you.

‘What is it, baby? Do you need me? Am I making you weak in the knees?’ Ronin reaches out and taps the end of his crowbar against the back of your knee lightly. You stumble slightly and his smile widens slowly. Like a predator circling his prey, Ronin stalks up close to you, breathes himself into your space, tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. ‘Gonna fall head over heels for me again?’ His grin is shit-eating. Your pussy clenches hotly in response.

‘’Nin, I need you.’ Your hands grasp at the front of his shirt, creasing it into tight little folds between your fingers. All the heat and want and desire from before flares back into life in the pit of your stomach.

‘Need me, need me. Bet’cha wanna please me. Ain’t that right, baby? Am I your God or am I your God?’

It should be embarrassing, how fast you drop to your knees. Nuzzle your face into his crotch where you know his cock is hiding. But you’re dizzy with want. Your whole cunt is throbbing so hard you wonder if you could come just like this, simply by getting your mouth on him. Ronin needs to take his pants off now. Before you gnaw through them. You lean down and bite his bare knee, exposed by the hole in his jeans. He jumps a little, steps back to pull his knee out of your reach and swats at your head. You grin and gnash your teeth at him mid air.

‘As sweet as that offer is, darlin’, I had somethin’ a little more… gruesome in mind.’ Ronin grins wickedly at you and offers you his hand. You let him pull you to your feet, twist you into a bruising kiss before he lets you go. You watch as Ronin walks over to the backpack, and pulls out the plastic bag the crowbar was wrapped in. There’s a pool of blood at the bottom of it. Ronin grins wickedly at you before motioning you over with a beckoning finger. ‘Kneel.’ He says and you do. Situate yourself at his feet and wait with bated breath to see what he does next.

You’re not expecting it when he takes the bag and tips the remaining blood inside onto the crowbar before picking it up. Your breath catches in your throat. You wonder if that’s how it looks when he's using it. Ronin smiles, pleased at the look on your face. ‘Y’see, I was wondering, just how badly do you want this, baby? How badly do you want me? How far are you willing to go?’

Ronin crouches in front of you, holding the crowbar out in front of him. He lines the end of it up with your head like he’s going to hit you, pulls it back a little and you tense. You don’t think he would, but with Ronin, you never truly know. ‘Nah.’ He chuckles, stands back up and taps the crowbar on one of your shoulders, then the other, then he ever so lightly bumps it against your forehead. ‘Here I knight thee, Pretty and Rotten and Mine, forevermore.’ Ronin swipes his thumb along the side of the crowbar, leans forwards and you feel him swipe a cross onto your forehead. ‘Forevermore and always, darlin’.’ Before he leans in and licks it off. Ronin crouches back down.

‘So, as I was saying, just how badly do you want this, baby? You want the devil so badly that you’d kiss his instrument of bloody delight?’ Ronin proffers it to you, palms up. He’s watching you with calculating eyes, like he’s seeing just how far he can push you before you break, but there’s also an intense joy in them, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Ronin’s lips are pursed to the side, an eyebrow quirked in question.

You want to rub your pussy on his face, against his nose, his mouth, his tongue. Your hips rock down against nothing at the thought, a quick motion but you know Ronin catches it as his eyes dip down to look at your bare cunt, hidden out of sight by his oversized t-shirt and a smirk curls around the edges of his mouth.

Instead of responding to his question, you lean in and lick a slow stripe along the crowbar. The copper-y metallic taste of blood, a stranger’s blood, fills your mouth and your heartbeat thunders as you swallow. They’re dead now. Made into mince meat at your boyfriend's hands. You lean in and press a chaste kiss against the cold metal, and then against Ronin’s fingers curved over the bar.

‘Ha-ha! I didn’t think you’d actually do it!’ Ronin crows with laughter. ‘So what d’ya think, darlin’? How does death taste? Pretty fuckin’ great right?’

You’re honestly not sure, you could go without it, but it wasn’t terrible like you expected. You actually quite like the taste of metal, so you’ve always though the taste of blood is kind of nice, but if Ronin wants to know that he’s going to have to work for it. You lick your lips and screw your nose up in distaste.

‘Not for you, huh darlin’? Awh, poor baby. So naive, so deluded.You really think you can lie to the devil? …I’ll let it go, this time. I have something much worse in mind anyway. Put your legs apart for me, darlin’. That’s right, there we go. Now put your hands behind your back.’ You do as he says. Ronin reaches over and holds the edge of your shirt up to your face, ‘ say ‘ah~’, then he tucks it in your mouth so you’re bare from the chest down, exposed. You watch as his gaze trails up and down your naked form, you can’t keep your hips still, they twitch back and forth in time with the soft pulsing in your clit.

Ronin grins sharply, ‘Perfect.’ He says, then he takes the crowbar and holds it upside down, turns the sharp edge of it away from you and slots the curved part up against your cunt. You gasp around your shirt, and the look on Ronin’s face is heady. You knew he was getting off on this, but it’s different to see it. His eyes are half-lidded, gaze dark, mouth open in with a smirk, tongue peeking out as he watches the shock register on your face. You can’t believe he would do something so, so disrespectful. Something so fucking hot you can’t help but buck your hips against the crowbar, grinding your clit into the cold bite of the metal. It’s wet, and you know it's the blood mixing with the slick from your cunt.

Part of you feels sick. The other knows you’re going to cum harder than you ever have in your life to the thought of your boyfriend, Ronin, The Devilish Butcher, the Devil Himself, using this very crowbar to split some poor suckers ribcage open, to break their knees, to crack their skull. You whine and rock your hips back and forth against the crowbar, rut your clit against it desperately. Your whole pussy pulses red-hot, pleasure licking across it sending shudders through you while you get off on thinking about how dangerous Ronin is.

Ronin is watching you with an intense look on his face, like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. Your head tips backwards in ecstasy and his hand comes round to support it, tilts it up so that he can see your face. ‘I want to see the look in your eyes when you come from this, darlin’.’ Oh fuck. You struggle to keep your eyes open as the pleasure twists itself into an electric whine, burning fire across your cunt and sending fricative little jolts through your legs and up your spine. You can feel the curved edge of the crowbar pressing up deliciously against your entrance and you whine, wishing the end of it wasn’t sharp so that Ronin could fuck you with it.

Your hips stutter down, drag your clit against the wet, bloody metal, feel yourself twitch and pulse with delight at how utterly grotesque the action feels. Ronin bites his lip and you think he sees it before you feel it and it vaguely occurs to you to be worried, before your climax washes over you in a thundering wave and you start to twitch. ‘Oh, fuck.’ Slips out your mouth before you can stop it, then devolves into a rasping, guttural moan. You feel a glittering, fuzzy numb feeling grasp the edge of your vision and your toes and shoulders as your hips rock, your clit tenses, then jolts and pulses with the rhythm of your release. You twitch your way through it until your vision dips into black around the edges, and dimly you recognise that you’re passing out just before you do.

When you come to, you’re laid panting in Ronin’s lap, one of his arms supporting your shoulders while the other brushes sweaty hair off your face. ‘Did ‘cha see the light, darlin’?’ Ronin’s smirk is cheeky, self satisfied, and you swat a limp hand at his face in mock outrage. You’re far too spent to actually consider making a real attempt at a comeback. Ronin crows, delighted at this, dodging your slow hand with ease before dipping his head down again to grin at you. ‘I take it that means you did. How were the pearly gates? Closed?’ For all his showboating he slows and kisses you softly, presses his forehead to yours and mutters, ‘Did God tell you you spent way too long dancing with the devil to be let in?’

‘Nooo.’ You grumble, slide your face away from the heavy weight of Ronin’s gaze, turn yourself sideways to hide your expression against Ronin’s stomach and wrap your arms around his middle, ‘He invited m’ in. Told him to fuck off and send me back to hell b’cause that’s where you are.’

There’s a beat of silence before Ronin laughs again, disbelieving and delighted. You feel it rumble in his chest before he pulls you up to sit in his lap properly. ‘Well aren’t you the sweetest?’ You can feel his grin as he presses his lips to your forehead. Your limbs are all loose and you feel euphoric. Giddy and content and happy to be in Ronin’s arms. He rocks you slightly and you laugh, head tipping back as Ronin kisses down your neck, scrapes his teeth against your throat. You shudder away from the stimulation and remember that while you may be satisfied, Ronin has been waiting patiently all this time and you want to make him feel as good as he made you.

‘Ronin.’

‘Mhm,’ you know he’s not really listening by the way he’s leaving little open mouthed kisses along your jaw.

‘Ronin.’

‘Yeah, baby?’ He breathes before pressing a sucking kiss at the skin just underneath your ear.

‘Ronin!’ You snap.

‘What?’ Ronin pulls back, hair dishevelled, mouth bitten red with confusion in his eyes.

You smile at him cheesily. ‘I want you to fuck me.’

Ronin groans, ‘Yeah, baby? Shall I go get the strap? You want The Butcher to fuck you? You want to get to know me, your god, biblically?’ He’s leaning down to kiss at your neck again when you stop him with a hand on his shoulder.

‘No, ‘Nin.’ You breath, ‘I want you to fuck me. I think I’m loose enough, and I think you’ve grown since we last tried.’

You can’t keep the grin off your face at how Ronin freezes, his pupils blown wide with lust. He wets his lips, ‘You want me to…?’

‘Yeah.’ You lean in and kiss him. Ronin doesn’t react for a second but then he’s pulling you against him, bruising, sliding his lips over yours and licking his way into your mouth like he wants to suck the air from your lungs. He pulls your legs over his own to sit between them. You feel his hips rock up under your own, the fabric of his trousers brushes over your wet cunt and you jerk away from the sensation, being too much too soon.

‘I wish I could fuck you like this.’ Ronin grumbles against your lips.

You pull back and murmur, ‘You can fuck me another way.’ Press your forehead against his own and watch his eyes slide shut in an uncharacteristic moment of weakness. Ronin breathes out heavily and nods.

‘Hey!’ You say, and shove him backwards while his eyes are still shut. They fly open in shock and you hold your breath, but then Ronin laughs, leans back on his elbows and appraises you with delight.

‘Little lamb’s got teeth. How cruel, baby. What’s next? You gonna cut out my heart too? Press my still beating atrium against that dirty little cunt of yours that likes blood so much?’

‘Not my fault you were looking all depressed about getting to fuck me.’ You crawl over and sit on his legs, reach for his fly, undo it, and start tugging down his trousers. You glance up at Ronin’s face, lean up and kiss the wary look off it. You’re not sure what it means and that worries you. Ronin is usually a really easy read, once you’ve gotten past all his sarcasm and teasing and esotericism (which is ironic considering his opinion on esotericism is ‘hard knock’). You lean over and kiss him again, a simple peck this time. ‘I really think we’ll get it this time; I’ve been on reddit.’ You say cheekily.

‘And what wisdom did the Glorious Platform of Reddit have to share?’ It’s dripping in sarcasm and you have to resist rolling your eyes.

‘Just some helpful hints, and a position we haven’t tried before.’ You start tugging his trousers down, ‘hips up, baby.’ Ronin’s hips rock up before he lifts them deliberately; he has always liked when you use his own pet names on him. You shuffle down trying to pull Ronin’s trousers the rest of the way off, they get caught around his knees.

‘You know it still might not work, right?’ Oh. So that’s how he’s feeling.

‘Yeah, I know. But we can still try; we got real close last time. Jesus, Ronin, how long are your legs?’ Ronin’s trousers turned inside out as you tugged them down, so you have to bundle them up to finally yank them off his feet.

‘Yeah and I was too small.’ He’s being petulant. Not even making his usual joke of, ‘no, just me,’ at your ‘Jesus’. Arms crossed, laying flopped back on the floor like he doesn’t care, what a big baby. You chuck Ronin’s bundled up trousers at him. They hit his face with a ‘flap!’ and he sits up, outraged.

‘Stop being a baby. That’s my job.’ You say. You lean up and put your hands on his thighs, rub them back and forth soothingly. ‘I thought you’d want this. That’s why I suggested it, but we don’t have to; we can do something different.’

Ronin smooths a hand over his face, ‘No, I want to. I really, really want to. I’m just worried it won’t work, and that I’ll end up feeling less than.’

‘You will never be less than to me. No matter what, Ronin. Okay?’

‘Damn, darlin’, didn’t know you liked me that much.’ He’s smiling cheekily, but you know it’s genuine in the way it plays around the edge of his mouth and crinkling his eyes as he looks up at you.

‘Yes you did, asshole.’

‘Yeah, I did.’

‘Now, you want me to suck your dick first or what?’

Ronin chokes on a laugh, ‘Forgot how much of a romantic you are there. You not gonna wine and dine me first, darlin’? Rile me up until I’m cryin’, beggin’ for it? Oh wait, that was you.’

‘Asshole. I’m asking if I can dine you right now.’

Ronin giggles. ‘Touche. But nah, you don’t need ta’.’ Ronin sits up on his elbows and shoves his boxers down over his hips aggressively. ‘I’ve been rock hard ever since you looked at my crowbar like it was something you wanted inside you, baby. Since you finally showed me some of your rot.’ He kicks his boxers off and they go flying but you don’t see where, you’re too busy focused on the wet mess of pubic hair sticking out from between your boyfriend’s legs.

Ronin parts his legs to let you see what’s between them, the rough black hair covering his public mound, the dark skin around the swollen red lips of his cunt, a thick sheen of slick leaking out from between them. His cock is sticking out from his folds, dark red and twitching against the chill of the open air. Fuck. He’s so hard.

Ronin sucks in a breath and slides a hand down his front, parts his fingers in a ‘v’ shape around the top of his cock and presses down to pull his foreskin back with a hiss. Your mouth waters and you can't resist. You lean down and spit on his cock, letting it run out of your mouth and down your tongue slowly while looking up at Ronin. Ronin moans, and his hips hump into the air towards the wet heat of your mouth, you watch the spit run down over the head of his cock and then down between his folds so you chase it with your tongue. Press between his folds and lick up under his cock and over the head of it. Ronin moans, his hand sliding down to cover the back of your head.

You seal your lips over his shaft with your tongue under it and push your head forwards, sucking gently. You can feel his cock pulse rhythmically against your tongue. You’re expecting him to push your head down but Ronin cards his hands through your hair and pulls you up. You look at him, mouth still hanging open, confused as he pants roughly, ‘You’re the one who said ya’ wanted me fuck ya’, darlin’.’

Oh shit. Yeah. You do. You nod rapidly, scramble to your feet and look at your boyfriend; he’s a vision on the floor; bloody hand prints on his neck, red hair disheveled, wet looking and pushed back, the light smattering of hair covering his thighs, his t-shirt rucked up around his stomach, his happy trail leading down to his hard cock sticking out proudly and his shiny wet cunt underneath it leaking between his legs. ‘You coming?’ You ask as you hold out a hand.

Ronin grabs it and hauls himself to his feet. He leans over and grabs the crowbar off the floor, then puts his arm over your shoulders and starts walking you to his bedroom, ‘that’s the plan, sweetheart.’ You snort out a laugh at his bad joke.

Ronin steers you into the room, drops the crowbar beside the bed, and just when you’re about to turn and kiss him, he drops his arm and shoves you, full bodied, onto the bed. You shriek in shock. You hear Ronin laughing uproariously behind you before you hear the fast padding of his feet as he launches himself towards you. ‘Wait, Ronin, no!’ You bring your arms up in defense but it's too late, and your boyfriend lands on you with a crushing blow. It doesn’t hurt anything other than your pride but you still don’t appreciate being sneak attacked and squished like this.

‘Get! Off! Me!’ You smack him (gently) over the shoulders and on his side and his butt and anywhere you can reach. ‘Awh, I thought you liked me.’ Ronin’s face pops into view, flushed with excitement at getting revenge for your earlier antics. He leans his head on his hands and puts on an exaggerated pout, ‘what? Don't ‘cha like me, darlin’?’

‘Not anymore I don’t.’ You say. You see Ronin’s eyes narrow in disbelief as a wicked smirk overtakes his features.

‘Is that so?’

‘Yep.’ You pop the ‘p’, turning your face away from him in protest.

Ronin starts laying wet kisses against your throat, talking in an over-exaggerated, fake, throaty moan, ‘So you don’t want me to try and bully my red-hot, throbbing, monster cock into your teeny tiny pussy?’ He’s clearly mocking you from his overzealous tone and you hate that it works. You’re mortified that he can fake arousal in such a kitsch and satirical way and it still makes you shiver and squirm to hear it. Ronin laughs against your throat. ‘Yeah, baby? You like that? Should I start using more cheesy porn lines during sex? Will that get you off?’

‘Shut up, Ronin. You know it’s you I like.’

Ronin noses under your jaw and whispers in your ear. ‘Fuck, really? Never noticed.’ He cackles it proudly against your cheek and presses a loud smooch against the side of your face. God fucking damn it. Always has to fucking win this man. Like it’s wired into his bone structure. ‘I knew it~.’

Ronin starts pressing wet, warm kisses under your ear again and you let out a satisfied sigh. You could stay here all day, you think, when Ronin shifts over you, lines your hips up with his, starts rutting forwards again and you feel his bare cock drag wet over your clit. The friction is a delicious bite of a sting against your spent clit, making your hips stutter away from and back into the movement. You can feel it when Ronin’s cock twitches hotly against your clit and the feeling makes you whine; you love rubbing your clit on his cock.

You rock your hips up to meet Ronin’s; his breath puffs against your temple in hot bursts and you can hear him moaning low in his throat on the downward drag of his hips. You don’t want to stop him but then you think of how ecstatic you would both feel if you could get him to actually fuck you; you don’t try this very often as it sets off his dysphoria if it doesn’t work but you know it’s one of Ronin’s biggest fantasies- to be able to fuck you himself.

‘Ronin. Ronin, come on. Fuck me.’

‘So impatient all the time.’ Ronin murmurs, nosing along the edge of your face before pulling back to look you in the eyes. He has the same dopey, lovesick look in his eyes that he did that day you met him in Purgatory- not that he’d ever admit that’s what it was. He thumbs over your lip before leaning in to kiss you again softly. ‘But when you ask so nicely how can I resist? …So, how do you want to do this?’ The words are whispered against your lips, ‘Since you’re the certified reddit expert ‘n’ all.’ Ronin snickers. You smack him (gently) round the side of his head for the cheek. Ronin smiles at you cheekily, kisses you again.

You get him to lift himself off you for a minute, his cock peels away wet and sticky from your cunt and you stifle a whine at the loss of burning hot heat, the feeling of him twitching against you as you move together. You hook a hand around your knee and pull one of your legs as far up and out as you can while keeping the other one laid out. You feel your cunt lips peel apart and allow the wet line from your clit to your entrance to kiss the open air. Ronin’s sat back, watching you open mouthed, hazy red high on his cheekbones, his eyes half lidded as he does.

‘’S that f’ me?’ He asks. You bite your lip and nod. You watch as Ronin exhales slowly, an attempt to keep control, but you don’t want him in control. You want him to take you; like he does when he’s out in Purgatory.

‘Ronin.’ You say. He barely tears his eyes away from your cunt to look at you for a second before he’s staring at it again, leaning towards it like he wants to put his mouth on it but that’s not what you’re doing right now. ‘Ronin.’ He doesn’t even flinch. He mumbles something about ‘such sweet rot’ and your clit twitches under his attention. ‘Butcher.’ You try. Ronin’s eyes snap up to meet yours. ‘Get- get on- straddle my leg, and-’

‘Wait.’ Ronin says, and you pause, letting go of your leg for a second as he leans over you. ‘I think we’re forgetting something.’ You’re confused as to what until Ronin reaches across and casually lifts the crowbar from beside the bed with one hand. You watch the muscles in his arm twist and flex as he handles it. ‘’M not exactly The Butcher without my handy-dandy little friend.’

‘Please never call your crowbar your ‘handy-dandy little friend’ again.’

‘What? You don’t like it?’

You cover your face. ‘No, I don’t like it, it's not sexy at all.’

‘Ah, I forgot. You’re a freak who gets off on the fact that their boyfriend is a murderer. A serial killer. The Butcher. You’re a dirty little pervert.’ Ronin’s holding the crowbar in one hand, tapping the end of it against the other, leaning over you, leering. He’s beautiful. You’re about to deny his claims when he says, ‘don’t lie. Not this time darlin’. I know you like it. It’s written all over your face. Can see it when I-’ The crowbar crashes into the pillow just above your head with a ‘thump!’ Ronin moves so fast you don’t see it coming. You gasp and flinch, but your hips kick up as you do, ‘-swing it around a bit.’ Ronin’s smirking at you, self-satisfied. ‘Told you~’ He says. He goes to pick up the crowbar but you stop him, grabbing his wrist.

‘Leave it there.’ You say. The heavy pressure above your head is a dizzy-making reminder of just how dangerous Ronin is; a heavy reminder of how he didn’t even pause before swinging at you. How strong Ronin has to be, how sure of himself he is to have done that and known he wouldn’t hurt you, or, how reckless he is knowing he could have and doing it anyway. You don’t know which idea turns you on more. You squirm in place, waiting for Ronin to answer you.

‘Sure.’ Ronin says, before he leans down and kisses you gently, ‘Whatever gets you off, you pervert.’ You snort out a laugh. Ronin levels you with a burning stare, eyes dark with want. You feel the hair on the back of your neck raise underneath it and your skin pricks. You wonder if this is how his victims feel when they realise he’s going to kill them. You can’t stop the shudder that rolls through you at the thought.

‘Leg up, baby.’ Ronin helps you pull your thigh back into your own grip, and then straddles himself across your other leg at an angle, ‘So then I just put it in?’ He sounds a little breathless at just the thought.

‘Uh-huh,’ you’re a bit breathless yourself, trying to keep your hips from twitching up towards the heat of his. Ronin leans over you, wraps your raised leg high on his waist so you can let go of it, braces his hands by your shoulders and slowly lowers his cunt over yours; you feel his cock brush against the swollen lips of your cunt. You whine as you hear him inhale sharply, before his cock slides firmly over your clit, slips down between your lips with a stroke of fire and bumps against the wet suckling grasp of your entrance. You clench against the intrusion and feel Ronin exhale heavily against your face. He grinds his cock down against you and you moan in the back of your throat, hips rocking back and forth into the movement.

‘C’mon, darlin’, baby,’ Ronin breathes against your temple, ‘You gotta relax, gotta be nice and open f’me f’r this to work.’ He pushes his cock against you harder, it slides wetly over your entrance and down towards your buttcrack. ‘Shit.’ Ronin mutters, looking down. You catch his face with your hand, tangle it in the hair behind his ear and pull him into a bruising kiss.

‘C’mon, butcher. Try again, need it in me, need you in me.’ You murmur against his mouth, let go of his face and grab one of his hands, slide it up behind your head and wrap it around his crowbar, then you wrap your hand over his. Ronin drops his other arm onto the elbow and full body shudders against you. You feel his hips rut against your ass once, twice before he manages to pull them up and slot his cock against your cunt again.

You can feel his shaft pressed up the length of you, putting pressure against your clit, as the head of his cock brushes your entrance. You breathe out, ‘Wait- wait a sec, can you- what if- pull your foreskin back, baby.’ Ronin nods, lets go of the crowbar to reach down and adjust himself, before putting his hand back on the crowbar. You then reach in between you both and pull the lips of your cunt to the side, out of his way. It works, Ronin’s cock slides down slightly, the head presses against your entrance firmly and you press your hips up into the pressure, breathe in deep and try to relax.

His cock is pressed fully up against you. You hear Ronin moan and grind his hips against you and your entrance flutters. You want him inside and your body agrees. You can feel your cunt pulse against him and you know Ronin feels it too the way he chokes on a moan and his hips stutter before they come to an abrupt halt. He lets out a choked gasp where his head is tucked against your neck. You’re about to ask what’s wrong, Ronin’s whole body is a tense line above you but then you feel it; the head of his cock sliding slowly in under the pressure of your suckling cunt, rubbing just about an inch inside of you.

The feeling is erotic. It relights the fire in your belly, the slow burning aching pleasure of pleasing Ronin; having him fit inside you, knowing how much your boyfriend has wanted this. Ronin’s hips start moving back and forth slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid this won’t last or he’ll slip out. You hear him whine, mutter, ‘oh fuck,’ choke out, ‘baby. Darlin’. You feel divine.’ against your neck. You laugh, breathless, feel your cunt pulse around him in agreement and he groans against your neck, slides his head up and kisses wetly against your jaw. ‘Fuckin’ killing me darlin’. That’s my job.’ His voice is laced with venom. Ronin dips his head down to nip at your neck. You yelp, jump slightly at the sharp sting and Ronin groans.

His cock dislodges with a wet ‘pop’, but Ronin just laughs against your neck, giddy off the high of getting to fuck you himself; safe in the knowledge that he’s managed to do it once so he can do it again. He starts sucking a new bruise on your neck as presses his cock up against your entrance again. ‘You gonna put me out of a job, darlin’? Replace The Butcher with your perfect fuckin’ pussy ‘n’ you’ll kill about the same amount.’

You can’t even laugh at his stupid joke, too focused on the hot, heavy pressure of him against your entrance. His cock slides into place easily now that he knows the angle. You moan as you feel him press into you, a burning hot pressure and you can feel every twitch and pulse of his cock as he does.

Ronin’s head dips forwards, his forehead bumps your own and he grits out, ‘Not- not gonna last, baby.’ You can feel his arms shaking beside your head, his hips pulsing forwards in heavy, slow grinds, pumping his cock into you in a hard rhythm.

You pant out, ‘wait, hold on jus’ a sec-second, I think I can-’ you slide your hand between you both, down to where Ronin’s pelvis has been brushing over your clit, spiking electric little shocks up your spine.

Your entire cunt feels molten, the heat of his cock inside you, the pressure of his shaft against you all the way up to your clit. You press your fingers down over the little nub and start rubbing in little circles. You can feel your clit bumping little kisses against Ronin’s shaft on the down stroke. Ronin shudders as he realises what you’re trying to do, presses his lips against your temple and leaves panting little kisses there until his voice is overtaken by guttural, stuttering moans. You tighten your grip on the crowbar above you, think of Ronin swinging it at your head earlier, picture him doing it to someone else, picture him killing them.

Your clit twitches hotly against Ronin’s cock, you rock your hips into the heavy motion of his rutting and feel the head of his cock rubbing firmly inside you; your hips and thighs start to shake as you come with a low moan. Ronin chokes against your temple; he’s still in you and you know he can feel every wet, slick pulse of your cunt around him. His hips freeze up before hitching harder against your cunt and you feel his cock contract as he starts to come in you. You whine and press your hips up into the feeling, your orgasm spasms into over-sensitivity with a series of heavy clenches but you wouldn’t cut this short for Ronin under threat of death. You’re not pulling back until he does.

Ronin presses his forehead to yours. You hear him gasp wetly, feel something drip onto your face, feel his breath spilling in and out rapidly against your cheek as his hips hump against yours in several long presses until he shudders and slumps over you. Ronin lands on you, chest to chest, panting hard. His cock pops out your cunt with a slick, wet noise and you can feel him twitching slightly against your thigh with aftershocks.

Your hand is numb when you peel your sticky fingers off of Ronin’s and the crowbar. You take care to peel back his fingers too, giving Ronin’s arm back to him and interlacing your finger’s with his against your shoulder. You use your other hand to pet gently at the sweaty hair on the nape of his neck as you both catch your breath.

Ronin’s the first to break the silence, his voice is a little slurred and entirely giddy as he mumbles, ‘told you I could do it, darlin’.’

There’s a heavy beat of silence before you try smack him (gently) on the shoulder, laughing- but you are limp from your second orgasm in the space of thirty minutes and your hand just sort of glides across his sweaty back of his t-shirt and skids onto the bed with a bump. ‘Told me, told me? Who was it that suggested this in the first place? That’s right, me. You shithead.’ You try to fake outrage but you’re giggly and out of breath.

Ronin snorts out a laugh and props his wobbly self up on one elbow to look you in the face, ‘Who taught you to be so proud little lamb? Next you’re gonna start blaspheming and fantasising about serial killers, and we can’t have that can we?’ He’s smiling that dopey lovesick grin, and you know he’s teasing you but all you can see are the little shiny wet lines streaking down from the corner of his eyes and you think ‘holy shit, I made him come so hard he cried’.

You rub a thumb over the corner of his eye gently and Ronin turns his head into the motion before biting at your thumb. He’s like a big cat really. Rubbing himself all over you and biting you for affection. The thought makes you snort a laugh and you say, ‘did you see the light then, darlin’? Who’s cryin’ for it now?’

It’s Ronin’s turn to laugh at this and he says, ‘yeah. And I told God all about what a dirty little sinner I’ve been making you into,’ he presses his head into your hand and his eyes are bright as he looks at you and says, ‘so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.’ Ronin bites his lip, leans in and kisses you gently. He then ruins the moment by looking pointedly at the crowbar and then saying, ‘hope you like hell, darlin’, cause heaven isn’t open to you now.’

His voice is dark and heavy when he says it, but even if you believed in hell you know for a fact you ‘wouldn’t be found anywhere else, Ronin, because this is where you are.’

‘You’re so sickly sweet. My little saint.’ Ronin’s voice is mocking when he says it, but he kisses your forehead anyway. He’s still wearing that lovesick look when he pulls back and you know that just as you would brave hell for him that he’d brave heaven for you- not that you’ll ever ask him to. You like hell far too much to ever leave, and if the devil just so happens to keep fucking your brains out with the help of his crowbar you don’t think you’ll ever go back.

…

‘Hey, Ronin...’

‘Yeah, baby?’

‘D’you think you could take the sharp end off your crowbar in the shop?’

‘Why would I want to-’ Ronin cuts himself off with a startled laugh as he figures out what you’re getting at. ‘I’ll see what I can do baby. You fucking pervert.’

#mywriting #cupidwrites #dead dove do not eat #ronin beaufort x reader #ronin beaufort smut #killer chat ronin #killer chat fanfiction #killer chat smut #they/them reader

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 10 months ago

Text

Like the Sun Came Out

Summary: Reader is a botanist on a Stargate team. When they encounter a plant that forces them to confront their deepest held secret or die, they're forced to have a hard conversation with Daniel, whom they've had a crush on since they got there.

Word Count: 21262

With a flash of light and a loud noise that Y/N was still not entirely used to, the Gate activated. Even with the noise that came with it, they had always been in awe of the event horizon, or ‘puddle’ as they’d once heard SG-1 and SG-Atlantis call it. It was a wonderful blue like that of a clear seashore, rippling like a rock had just been tossed into a pond. The puddle was an apt name for it, despite what it was and what it did.

Still, there was no time to ponder the nature of the Stargate, only to go through it and do their job. P3X-326 had already been cleared by SG-10 almost a month ago. SG-13 was just being sent there to do scientific recon, nothing more serious than that.

Even though it was a mainly scientific team, Y/N couldn’t help but admire Major Laurel Thomas, the leader and sole protector of SG-13, as she went in first. She was the only military member of the unit and the one in charge of the most tasks and held that badge with pride. As she was the most mischievous one of the group during down time and the most serious while on missions, Y/N couldn’t ask for a better leader than Laurel.

They considered the other members of their team in the split second it took for them to step through the Gate. Kenneth Sardoni was next, the team’s archeologist and anthropologist. He wasn’t the best linguist on the base or in the facility, if he was he’d be on a higher SG team. Still, he was someone Y/N looked up to and admired for being able to speak so many languages as it was, especially the ones thought to be dead before the other planets were met.

Charles DeSoto crossed third. He was someone that Y/N interacted with a bit more than the other two as their fields intersected a bit more. Charles was the team’s geologist and was always down in the dirt, collecting samples. He also tended to be called over to check out any ground around Kenneth’s digs to make sure they were safe. It meant he was good at finding hidden traps or things on the ground as that’s where his eyes were almost always focused. The few times he wasn’t looking at the dirt were when he was looking at the rock layers and trying to find manmade structures or natural wonders.

Y/N brought up the rear, feeling small in the presence of, and in comparison to, their team. They were the botanist and zoologist, tasked with looking out for all things alien life that wasn’t humanoid. Even then, sometimes they’d be called upon to help see if something was human, humanoid, or a hybrid of an animal and human or alien. Compared with keeping everyone safe, discovering and speaking with ancient civilizations, or even predicting a natural disaster, cataloging the natural flora and fauna didn’t seem like that big of a job to them.

Once through the Gate, the group moved in formation as a unit through the jungle to the small clearing that held the base camp set up by SG-10. Laurel set down the majority of her gear, leaving herself with only a Zat gun and a P90. “Okay, guys, this is home for the next month- or cycle, whatever this planet uses. Either way, get comfy. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

Kenneth laughed, setting down his two large tubs full of tools that were all tenderly packed and labeled, ready for usage. “I think we’re supposed to measure our stay by Earth time and work by our natural cycles, boss man. That way, we won’t be out of sync when we go back to Earth in a month or so.”

Y/N quietly set down their own gear and tubs, setting themself up in a corner of the base camp. Charles set up near them, already scanning the surrounding area for any rock formations that seemed promising or stood out to him in some way. He was the first one to break from the group, taking a small pack of tools and test tubes without saying a word.

Laurel swore and bellowed, “Charlie! We’re supposed to stay together, dammit!” before taking off after him, one hand resting comfortably on the P90 hand pistol strapped to her hip.

Y/N chuckled, used to their antics and fully expecting it to happen. Kenneth started contentedly setting his gear up, getting a few of the more delicate things situated better and a few other things moved to different pockets. “You runnin’ off on me, too?” Y/N joked to him.

Kenneth turned and smiled. “It’s not like I can get in any more trouble than he’s gonna be in,” he responded, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder in the direction the other two went.

“Well, you know the team’s protocol, off you go. Have fun, find lots of stuff!” Y/N smiled back at him and finished setting up their own equipment. They pulled a few more of the important things out, storing them in their vest and BDU pockets.

By the time they were ready to start their own work, Kenneth was already long gone, a piece of paper stuck under one of his smaller boxes. Y/N pulled out a notepad and prepared to do the same.

Boss Man,

Headed North of the Stargate and Base Camp, looking for cool plants or animal tracks. I’ve brought food, water, and protection with me. Should be back by sundown, if not before. See you then!

Your Favorite Teammate.

On a whim, Y/N crossed out the signature line and wrote, “Your Best Behaved Child,” instead. Smiling at the message, they placed theirs with Kenneth’s, absently noting that he said he went to the West of the same marker. Satisfied, Y/N set off in their desired direction and started looking at the local vegetation

Laurel always joked that getting SG-13 to do anything was like trying to corral toddlers, but she also said she wouldn’t change it for the world. The Major loved the chaotic life that was SG-13 and the entire team knew it and that she was the most chaotic of them all when on Earth. Still, they couldn’t help but tease her for the toddler comments, eventually deciding on a ranking of the ‘children’ that changed randomly. Some days, it would be whoever was the best behaved, those last to leave base camp without Laurel. Some days, it was ranked by an imaginary age system based on how old Laurel said they were acting those days. Y/N more often than not got called a five year old.

Still, the team loved their beleaguered caretaker and protector and did their best to show that appreciation during their off hours. On missions, though, it was a whole other story. Laurel couldn’t supervise all of them as they often tended to wander in separate directions. Charles and Kenneth naturally ended up next to each other, one looking at the dirt and the other looking at things in the dirt, while Y/N ended up away from the group looking at things that grew in the dirt or walked on it. So, Laurel ended up going with the men nine times of ten. The tenth time, it was when Charles and Y/N decided to team up, Y/N needing to know the soil to know the plants for some planets.

With Kenneth meandering his way toward where Charles and Laurel had headed off to, it only made sense that she’d stay over there with the majority of the group unless she thought she could coax Y/N over to join them. Y/N didn’t really care if they stayed with the group or not, they were content to just do their job. They put in their headphones, played some music to keep them focused, and worked on their own things. The planet had already been cleared of threats before the team even came and had been deemed safe so Y/N didn’t feel they were in any serious danger.

There was a native population, but the SGC hadn’t really made contact with them yet as they were considered a primitive civilization. SG-10 had claimed they were similar to an ancient Central American culture but they hadn’t specified which one. That was what Kenneth was there to do, figure out exactly what culture this planet had and where the people might have been taken from.

It didn’t matter how many worlds they visited, for each one truly does feel like a different world and not just a different planet, Y/N was always amazed at how similar to Earth it could be. Maybe Earth is just that diverse, but each world always held some resemblance to their home planet while also holding something deeply alien. Each one had its own little quirks, some way of existing that was completely foreign and different. They just had to find it.

Y/N shivered as the wind passed through the jungle. The trees were tall but Y/N’d grown up in a forest, already knowing their way back and how to wander without getting lost. Putting away the music, they pulled out a voice recorder, finding it easier to speak their notes than write them down, especially while examining something.

“Botanist and Zoologist’s log of P3X-326. Doctor Y/N L/N of SG-13. The weather on this planet resembles that of Earth’s Autumn, seeming to be right after the wet season, good thing we missed that,” they chuckled, making a mental note to edit the comment from the log. “The plant life is incredibly vibrant, with the leaves looking lush and flowers being abundant. That may be due to the wet season just ending as SG-10 reported a less lush environment on their pass through a few months ago, indicating a cycle of seasons similar to Earth’s. So far, P3X-326 is similar to every other planet settled by the Ancients and colonized by the Goa’uld, almost a carbon copy of a biome found on Earth.”

They paused their steps and words, turning in a small circle to observe their new surroundings, before continuing the log. “The plants in a clearing approximately,” they glanced at their watch, “a half hour’s walk North of Base Camp look stranger than those observed on any other planet. Not necessarily what most would consider to be alien, but truly unlike anything I’ve seen yet. Some trees, for example, seem to be conglomerations of others with the bark of one species, the leaves of another, and the flowers of a third species. Many other plants seem to be like this as well, combinations of different plants in the same genus or family. Is this Goa’uld manipulation? Natural combinations done over time to adjust to this environment? Grafting done by the local population that became typical to find here? Or, is this just the way they naturally exist? I’m going to grab samples to examine for later.”

Y/N turned off the recording and let their music play again, putting the volume low enough to be background noise. Humming to the tune, they set about grabbing samples of the strangest plants around them. Trees with the bark of Oak, leaves of Birch, and flowers of Dogwood had already caught their attention and were the first to be sampled. The next was a tall tree with soft, light brown wood and razor sharp copper colored leaves. Running a hand over the bark, Y/N sighed for just a moment and wondered if any furniture could be made of the lovely wood.

Coiling around a nearby tree was a climbing plant with bright red branches, dark green stems, and silver leaves. Y/N made sure they had gloves on when grabbing samples, the bright colors telling them it was likely a poisonous plant. Along the forest floor, they found small red flowers with five pointed petals darkening to a spot of purple toward the base of the petal. Growing from a normal-looking bush were large circular flowers that had yellow centers and white petals. What made that one interesting aside from its size were the bright purple stamens surrounding the yellow centers.

Delicate blue flowers growing vertically greeted Y/N on a nearby bush, almost waving cheerily at them. For some reason, they made the botanist/zoologist feel calm, as if everything was going to be alright. They noted that emotion on the container they packaged the sample in, feeling it was important to remember that.

For another half hour, they wandered the clearing, gathering samples and recording their findings. Tucked behind a small bush, they found something that made them pull up in confusion. Pulling out the recorder and checking their compass, Y/N stepped back for a moment to collect their thoughts.

“Botanist’s log, continued. Humanoid skull found on the East end of the clearing. It’s clean, no other bones around. It must have been here for a while, I’ll have Kenneth confirm later the exact age. Tooth marks suggest the body was eaten by a wild animal. There is a strange fern growing from the mouth of the skull, stranger than any other plant in this clearing. The leaves are a pure white, almost translucent, with serrated edges and curling at the tips. There is a faint streak of purple running down the center of each leaf. The closest I can identify it is the Athyrium genus but none of those species are as translucent as this. It may be a new species of Athyrium but it may be an entirely alien plant. The stems are green, clearly pulling their nutrients through there, but the leaves have a nearly mesmerizing quality to them. This sample will have priority study.”

They turned off the recorder and knelt to gather samples of the plant. As they did so, they faintly heard footsteps behind them. Y/N turned to see the rest of their team walking up the path. They smiled and waved. “Hey, guys! It’s only been about an hour, I expected y’all to be gone longer.”

Laurel scoffed, eyes scanning the surroundings. “I can’t corral you toddlers if I don’t have all three of you in the same place and in sight. Besides, Kenenth claims to have finished his work for the day so Charlie wanted to check in on you.”

Y/N smiled at that, feeling reassured to have their team with them once more. “Okay, I’m almost done with this clearing. One more plant, maybe two, then we can head to the camp for the night! Oh, and, Kenneth, can I get your opinion on something real quick?”

Laurel nodded, standing with her back to Y/N. Kenneth came over and looked over Y/N’s shoulder. “What’d ya need?”

Y/N pointed at the skull. “Can you figure out how long it’s been there? Just for the sake of the record, of course.”

He nodded and examined it. “Uh, I’d say maybe fifty years? With the weather conditions and the state of other bones I’ve found, mostly animals that I’ll need you to identify later, fifty years with error bars of five years sounds right.”

“Cool, thanks!” Y/N smiled at him.

He nodded and started wandering the area, looking at the different plants but keeping his hands behind his back. Ever since he’d accidentally gotten poison ivy, he was cautious to touch anything without Y/N telling him it was okay. Charles wandered behind Kenneth, mimicking his posture and generally being the class clown. Y/N chuckled at his antics before turning back to the fern.

Carefully, they pulled a smaller leaf off and carved off a portion of the stem, putting both in a cylinder container partially filled with sterile water and into their bag. As they closed the lid of the bag, they accidentally brushed against a leaf. The sori on the underside of the leaf exploded, releasing spores into the air. Y/N sneezed but, in a stroke of luck, the wind was pointing away from the clearing and quickly got rid of the spores.

Y/N stood and picked up their bag, careful not to disturb the plant again in case more sori would explode. Once certain their items were secure, they walked over to Laurel. “Okay, boss man, all done here. Is it dinner time yet? I’m starving!”

Laurel chuckled. “We’ve still got a half hour hike back to camp due to you being an overachiever but after that, we’ll get right on dinner. I promise.”

Y/N cheered, pumping a fist into the air, and set off running down the path they’d taken to get there. Once back at the camp, Y/N stored most of the samples but took the ones from the Silver Leafed Creeper, as they’d decided to call it, and put them in an analysis program. By the time dinner was made and eaten, the sample had been fully analyzed and they were able to see what it was.

“Amazing,” they muttered, looking at the sample through a microscope before looking at the analysis results.

“What’s so cool?” Laurel wandered over, sitting near Y/N as they worked. She sounded more relaxed now that the entire team was in a central location and under the protection of base camp. Mother hen and her chicks all in the coop for the night.

Y/N looked up from their equipment to smile at their friend. “I grabbed this specific plant thinking it was going to be poisonous. After all, the bright colors practically scream ‘danger’. Instead, it actually seems to have chemicals that could be used in medicine. I’d love it if Kenneth could figure out the language and talk to the locals about this, I really wanna know if they use it for medicine or not. If they do, what do they use it for? Are there any side effects to it? How powerful is it? All I can tell right now is that it seems to maybe work as a pain reliever.”

“Sounds like you’re really enjoying learning about this planet,” Laurel laughed.

Y/N nodded, stepping back and rubbing their eyes. “Yeah, I could study this planet for another few months and still not be satisfied. I know you don’t really care about this kind of thing, more of a military person yourself, but I do appreciate you listening to me ramble for a bit. It feels nice to be heard.”

Laurel reached out, putting a hand on her friend’s arm. “Darlin’, I don’t mind. I love hearing my team be in their elements, I love hearing you specifically ramble about your work and passions. You’re my friend, y’know, and most people just like to talk to their friends.”

Y/N laughed. “I know. Still, it can’t be easy to only be surrounded by scientists who mostly ramble about things you couldn’t care less about or understand.”

Laurel nodded, chuckling a bit. “I’ll concede that point, y’all can get a bit boring sometimes or your talk will go over my head. Other times, I just wanna be out in the field instead of sitting in the tent and listening to Charlie talk about the dirt he found that day. I’d rather be running around on it than listening to him study it, some days. “

Y/N threw their head back in a deep laugh, affectionately pointing at Laurel. “Your Georgia Girl is coming out, Laur!”

Laurel lightly pushed them, shook her head, and walked off, laughing with her friend.

The team stayed on the planet for another few weeks. By the end of the month, Y/N found themself back at the clearing they’d found on the first day. For some reason, that skull and fern almost called to them and they needed another look at it. Laurel was with them while the other packed up base camp, getting ready to go home. “Come on, Sugar Pie, let’s make this quick. I’d rather be home in time for dinner.“

“Relax, boss man, I’m just getting one more sample of a plant.” Y/N carefully found a leaf with sori on it and cut off a portion. Mindful of the sori, they put the sample into a container, which got put into their bag. “See? That easy! Already done!”

Laurel nodded, readjusting her grip on her service weapon. “Good, let’s get out of here. I’m looking forward to time on Earth.” She waited until Y/N had the bag over their shoulder before she set off, the scientist right on her heels.

When they got back, Y/N and Laurel helped pack up the last few things of base camp. With it all torn down and ready to go, the team made the trek back to the DHD. “Alright, Kenneth, do the honors,” Laurel ordered as her eyes scanned the surroundings for the final time.

Y/N also took the moment to look around. Despite only being on the planet for a few weeks, they were going to miss it. There were still secrets hiding in the jungle that they could spend the rest of their life discovering. Still, like Laurel, they were eager to be back home for a while and looking forward to all the amenities that Earth possessed.

Kenneth dialed home and SG-13 stepped through the Stargate, the entire team looking forward to a month or so on their home planet before their next mission. As soon as they were back at Stargate Command, they were being marched to the infirmary for the mandatory health check and screening. Their gear was piled in the usual corner of the room and each person assigned a bed. Y/N didn’t mind, they’d kept a book out to read as they waited for their examination.

Soon enough, Doctor Janet Fraiser walked around the corner. She and a few orderlies soon got to examining them, letting the team go a half hour later with a clean bill of health. Y/N thanked the doctor and picked up their gear, making their way over to their lab.

Before they’d left, their lab had begun to be shared with the famed Doctor Daniel Jackson. As Y/N set their bags down, they scanned the room. Most of their things had been left untouched, the only sign of the archaeologist was the table in the corner that housed a bunch of books and a computer. They smiled and, as they began to unpack, reminisced on how that situation had come to be.

A knock sounded at the door to the lab. Y/N turned, finding Daniel standing there, hands in his pockets with his pinkies sticking out as he typically had them. Y/N nodded to him, face turning back to the sample in their hands. “Is there anything I can help you with, Doctor Jackson?”

He chuckled, footsteps indicating his movement closer. His voice being louder confirmed it. “I’m hoping so. See, my office is currently being taken over by a team of ten anthropologists looking at a document brought back by SG-15. It seems my space is the only one large enough to contain both the team and their large document and I can’t seem to do any work while they’re there.”

Y/N raised their head, finally having the sample positioned properly under the microscope. “And, if I may ask, where do I come in?”

He smiled, eyes blue as lakes behind those round wire frames. “I was hoping you would allow me to cohabitate in your lab for the time being.”

Y/N tilted their head. “Are you certain my lab is the best choice? Surely, there are closer and drier labs that would be more suitable? I know it’s just down the hall from yours but if you use this botany lab, there’s a chance your books could be damaged, especially any ancient or antique ones. Last I checked, paper and humidity don’t go very well together.”

He nodded, a small smile gracing his face. “Um, well, that’s just the thing. I’m actually working on a stone that only seems to reveal its inscription when in a fairly humid environment; I think it was picked up on a jungle planet or something similar. It’s . . . the main reason I wanted to use your lab. It’s close enough to my own that I can grab research or other materials if needed and it’s just the right humidity the stone needs. So, what do you say? You willing to let me invade for a month or two?” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Y/N thought about it for a moment, heart going crazy. “Okay. I’m going off world in a week or so and could use someone to water these plants while I’m gone. If I leave a watering schedule with you, do you think you can do that for me? As payment for usage of the lab?”

He straightened his back and mock-saluted. “Of course! Leave it to me!” His eyes shone with mischief and excitement, something so enticing Y/N could almost feel that same energy.

It made them feel giddy and his antics caused them to grin back at him. “Then, you’re more than welcome to the use of my lab for as long as you need, so long as you keep it in good condition, Doctor Jackson.”

His smile mirrored theirs before softening. “Thank you. Oh, and, you can just call me Daniel, please. ‘Doctor’ feels a bit too formal.”

Y/N nodded. “Then, just call me Y/N, Daniel.” They savored the way his name felt on their tongue, letting it roll off and slip past their lips.

A knock at the door pulled Y/N from their reverie. Turning, they saw that very same doctor of archaeology standing in the doorway, just as he had been that day. Y/N smiled, feeling their breathing quicken in excitement but their heartbeat slowing inexplicably. “Hey, you don’t need to know, come on in.”

He stepped inside and rounded the lab to his table where many books and a large stone rested. “Sorry, I don’t mean to invade. I only just learned you got back. If I’d known sooner, I wouldn’t have still been working this late as I wanted to give you the space to yourself after getting back from a long mission. I know how draining those can be.”

Y/N shook their head, putting away the last of the samples from that bag. “It’s not a problem. I’ve got a day or so before I’m officially back in this lab anyways. Besides, I said you could use the lab as long as you like and I don’t say things I don’t mean.” They patted the last bag to unpack, the samples they’d taken from the strange clearing. “Once I’m officially back, I’m diving headfirst into these babies.”

Daniel chuckled, leaning against his table rather than getting straight to work. “Seems like you’re excited to work on those. Is there anything special about them?”

Y/N shrugged. “Uh, I just found them in a weird spot. Most of them don’t even look like anything we have on Earth and I haven’t encountered them anywhere else. It’s why I thought they warranted a look.” They yawned, covering their mouth and turning away.

He laughed. “Seems like you should probably get out of here. Sounds like you could use some sleep.”

Y/N shook their head, waking themself up a bit. “I still need to at least unpack these and put them in the proper areas before I go.”

Daniel stepped forward, putting a hand on the top of the bag. Y/N couldn’t help but notice just how close his hand was to theirs, also on top of the bag. “I can do that for you, if you’d like.”

They blinked, their jet lag catching up with them. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, really. I got into the habit of wandering around the lab when I couldn’t figure something out or reading the labels as I watered the plants. So, I’ve been in this lab long enough to know how the categorization system seems to work.” he waved a hand around, indicating all the plants thriving around them. “I’ve taken care of all these for the month or so you were gone, I’m sure I can take care of them for one more day before they’re officially returned to you.”

Y/N smiled and closed their eyes for a moment before looking into Daniel’s. “Thank you. I-I honestly was just going to push through but I really am nearly dead on my feet and running purely on the need to finish a few tasks at this point.”

He moved the hand from the bag to rest on their shoulder. “Go. Get something to eat, a shower, and some sleep, in any order you’d like. This lab will still be here when you get back.”

Y/N smiled, tiredness invading every cell of their body. “Y’know what, I think I’ll do just that.”

Daniel smiled back before his brows furrowed slightly. “Hey, not to cause you more stress but, when’s your debrief? I’d feel bad if I made you miss it.”

Y/N chuckled. “It’s 0800 tomorrow morning. After the debrief, the rest of the day is mine. Then, it’s back to work the day after.”

He nodded. “Ah, that makes sense. Hopefully, it won’t last too long and you can get started on the R and R soon enough.”

“I hope so too.” Y/N left the lab to the sound of Daniel’s footsteps and a spray bottle misting over the plant specimens.

A day later, Y/N was back in the lab and hard at work. Soft music was humming through their headphones, head bobbing slightly to the sound as they moved around the lab. As they worked, they kept up a steady stream of calm muttering to the plants. The first thing they had to do was catalogue all the new plant specimens, see what had survived the gathering process and what hadn’t, and make sure all of them were set up properly in their own containers. Y/N also checked on their existing specimens and plants, seeing how well Daniel had taken care of them during Y/N’s absence.

Halfway through the process of checking the plants, softly telling them of their conditions, footsteps alerted Y/N to the presence of another person in the room. They looked up to find Daniel walking through the door, a steaming mug in his hands. He paused when he saw them and Y/N smiled at him, turning their music off and straightening from their slightly bent position.

“Good morning,” they greeted amicably, cheeks heating slightly at the realization he found them talking to their plants.

Daniel nodded back at them. “Morning to you, too. I, uh, I didn’t expect there to be anyone else here this early.”

Y/N shrugged. “Couldn’t really sleep last night so I thought I’d get a head start on the work here.”

He hummed in understanding then took an awkward step, pointing to his mug. “Uh, do you want one of these?”

Y/N chuckled. “No, thank you. I brought my drink of choice from home.” they pointed to a dark green thermos sitting off to the side on a table covered in papers.

“God, I probably should have asked if open containers were even allowed in here,” Daniel chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

Y/N smiled, glancing down for a moment. “No, they’re allowed. Just, um, try not to feed it to the plant in the far corner,” they gestured at the plant in question, “as it tends to grow a bit too much with the addition of caffeine. I learned that the hard way.” They laughed again.

Daniel laughed with them, glancing at the plant before returning his eyes to Y/N. Those eyes were such a deep blue and always held such warmth, Y/N always felt safe when they saw them, feeling like they were sinking into a familiar lake that they could stay in for hours.

They managed to shake themself out of their thoughts before the staring got awkward, moving instead to pick up their thermos. “So, you’ve got any big plans for today?”

Daniel shrugged. “Eh, I’m still trying to crack this damn stone. Figuratively, of course. I’ve got an off-world mission with my team scheduled for later today. Other than that, no, nothing big.” He smiled, eyes flicking between the new plant specimens. “Though it seems like you’re excited to work on your own big projects today.”

Y/N laughed awkwardly, looking at the plant cuttings they’d already started setting up in pots. “Yeah, I am, actually. I took my day of rest, got all the other paperwork out of the way, and was probably a bit too excited for this. The reason I couldn’t sleep last night, I guess.”

Daniel’s smile grew and he chuckled. “Well then, I think I’ll leave you alone. I’ll just be over in my corner of this wonderful room. Please, ignore the curing that might come from there, it’s just part of the process.”

Y/N laughed. “I understand, it’s part of my own process too, at times.” They wondered if his cursing would be entirely in English or if he would switch to different languages as he did it. Strangely, they were excited to find out.

They took a deep breath and blinked back into the reason they were there as Daniel walked away. Putting the thermos down, Y/N turned back to looking over their plant specimens. All too aware of Daniel now in the room with them, Y/N kept their music low and stopped muttering to the plants, just quietly went through their process.

A few minutes later, Daniel cleared his throat. On instinct, Y/N turned their head to look at him. He was standing a bit closer now, leaning against the edge of his table, and gestured for their headphones to come off once he had their attention. Y/N turned off the music and pulled the headphones down to dangle around their neck as requested. “Yeah? Did you need something else, Daniel?” It still felt weird to say his name aloud to him, the way it rolled off the tongue so nicely feeling like a piece of candy they wanted to keep rolling around.

He smiled and chuckled. “No, not really. I just wanted to say that I’d noticed you were talking to the plants when I came in and wondered why you weren’t doing it anymore.”

Y/N’s cheeks heated up again. “Oh. Uh, studies show that some noises help plants grow better, which is why I play nature sounds when no one else is here. I didn’t have that set up when you were in here and I was off-world, of course. I was afraid it might distract or annoy you. It’s also been shown in a few studies that complimenting plants or talking to them in general can have a positive impact on them. It might just be the CO2 in our breath that causes them to grow better but I like to think that the positive words help them grow. So,” they rubbed the back of their neck, “I talk to my plants. It’s kinda stupid, but it makes me feel better to know they’re being talked nicely to.”

Daniel nodded, eyes attentive to every word being said. It felt good, in a way, to have the person they had only ever admired from afar looking at them and truly listening to what Y/N had to say. It was almost intoxicating to have him seem to hang on every word said. He smiled when they finished. “Alright, that’s actually really interesting. And, it’s not stupid at all. Actually, it’s kind of sweet. Well, don’t feel like you have to change the way you work just ‘cause I’m here. Play the nature sounds, talk to the plants, just do whatever you usually do. I don’t want to inconvenience you at all and I know changing the way someone works can be frustrating.”

Y/N genuinely thanked him and they both went back to work. They finished with the routine checks and pulled out the newer plants to look at. Going through the flowers first, Y/N got to the calming blue ones relatively quickly. Up to then, the plants had more or less just been normal ones, if a bit exotic looking and adapted to the foreign soil of the other planet. This one, however, actually made Y/N feel different as soon as it was pulled out of its sample bag.

“What do you want to tell me?” Y/N muttered as they prepared it for inspection. They cut off a thin section of the stem and put it under the microscope. Finding nothing abnormal with it, they next sampled the stamen. “Wait, what the fuck?” they said louder than they had meant to.

Daniel looked up from his work, eyes slightly unfocused and expression tired. “Huh? What? Found something interesting?”

They lifted their head to look at him. “Uh, that would depend on your definition of ‘interesting’, Daniel.”

He shook his head, already standing. “No, Y/N, if you say it’s interesting, I’ll listen. Besides, I could use a break anyways.” He walked over and leaned against the table, facing Y/N. They got a small shiver run down their spine at the way he said their name, almost cradling it on his tongue. It was gentle and familiar, yet not too intimate. It made it hard for them to think for a moment before they snapped out of it.

“Uh, well, back on 326, I found this specific flower that, for some reason, made me feel calmer just looking at it. I thought it was interesting as I’d yet to find any other plant that did that, on that planet or others. Unsure if it was just my imagination, I grabbed a sample of it. I put it under the spectrometer and the microscope. I’m still waiting on the spectrometer but, if I’m right, this might have a major impact on a lot of things.”

Daniel placed his palms on the table behind him. “You really know how to keep someone interested. So, tell me, what could this plant impact?”

Just as he finished speaking, the spectrometer beeped. Y/N went over and picked up the paper it spit out. They cheered, jumping and spinning around. “Yes, yes yes!!”

Daniel caught them, placing his hands on their shoulders. “Hey, come on, botanist, tell me what’s going on.” His voice was lighthearted and teasing, seeming to enjoy the way Y/N was acting right now and wanting to be let in on the secret so he could celebrate with them.

Y/N took a deep breath. “This plant has unusually high levels of gamma aminobutyric acid, abbreviated as GABA, a chemical in the brain that not only calms but can also literally help break bad habits. Not only could this help with disorders like Anxiety, PTSD, or others, it could also probably be greatly helpful to places like rehab or AA. It’s pretty much revolutionary, the things this plant could do, not to mention,” their words started to come out faster as they started to get more excited again. “It’s only in the pollen and stamens, making it relatively easy to administer. One only has to just grow it in their house to get nonstop hits of GABA!”

Daniel smiled, squeezing their shoulders. “That’s great!”

Y/n took another deep breath to steady themself and glanced at the clock. “Oh, shit, is that the time?! I promised Laurel I’d eat lunch with her. Major boss man is gonna kill me if I’m late, I gotta go!” They reached up to squeeze Daniel’s hands before running out of the room, the sound of his laughter following the swoop of their lab coat.

A few hours later, Y/N came back from lunch to see a note from Daniel.

Y/N,

I’m off to my mission with SG-1. It shouldn’t take long but missions are unpredictable. Even if it didn’t, I’ve got an archaeology conference I promised a colleague I’d try to attend. So, don’t expect to see me for the rest of the day.

I hope you have more success with your continued research and can’t wait to hear more about it when I see you tomorrow.

Daniel

Y/N smiled giddily and pocketed the note, swaying on their feet in an attempt to keep from dancing around the room. There was something special about seeing their name written out so nicely in his handwriting, a jolt of electricity that felt just like how it did to finally make a breakthrough or to get to the best part of a book shot through them. It was like finishing a puzzle or getting through a hard problem, the elation of triumph and the satisfaction of completion all wrapped up in the joy of his deep blue eyes and elegant swooping letters.

In their giddy haste to get back to work, Y/N was careless and forgot their usual protocol. They pulled out the fern leaf with the sori on it but didn’t handle it carefully enough, accidentally breaking a sorus. The spores went everywhere and Y/N could almost feel them entering their lungs. Quickly, they cleaned everything up into a biological waste bag and headed out, making sure to seal the lab door on their way out.

They brought the bag with them to the infirmary, where an orderly approached them. “Hello, Doctor L/N. Is there something I can help you with?”

Y/N automatically smiled. “Hi, I seem to have made a small mistake. Uh, I’m not too concerned just yet but I would really appreciate being able to see a doctor as soon as possible, please.”

“Of course. Doctor Fraiser is almost done with a patient, I’ll let her know you’re next up on the list. In the meantime, just stay here and she’ll guide you to an exam bed when she’s ready.”

“Thanks so much!” Y/N already felt deflated, never being that much of a people person. People they knew were fine, but others were hard to deal with without a set ‘script’ they could follow. Even then, that ‘script’ left them exhausted. So, Y/N just leant against the wall and waited for the Chief Medical Officer to be ready for them. The entire wait, they tried to calm their anxiety and heart rate by telling themself it was all in their head, the spores weren’t dangerous and even if they were, Y/N surely hadn’t breathed in enough to do any damage, if they’d breathed in any at all, which was unlikely.

Soon enough, Janet came over. “What seems to be the problem, Doctor?” she asked, already having a penlight in hand.

Y/N smiled sheepishly and held up the biowaste bag. “I got a bit too excited about a research project while pulling out a sample for it and, uh, broke open a spore pocket. I think I breathed some of the spores in and just really need to know if they’re toxic or not. At the very least, am I gonna die in the next few hours, Doc?” Y/N joked to relieve some of their own tension.

Janet nodded seriously and took the bag, pulling aside a passing orderly. She spoke in a stern tone that left no room for argument or prior tasks. “I need this examined for possible toxins, highest priority.”

“Right away, Ma’am.” The orderly grabbed the bag and instantly altered course to a different section of the infirmary.

Y/N was led over to an examination bed and told to sit on it as Janet listened to their breathing and looked down their throat with the penlight. Y/N nervously told her their heart rate was elevated due to anxiety, they were unsure if it had anything to do with the spores. After a few more tests were run, they were cleared to go back to work. The toxicology reports wouldn’t be in until the next day so Y/N wasn’t allowed to do anything too strenuous and wasn’t allowed to leave the facility until the reports were in.

They thanked Janet and headed off back to their lab. Carefully, and keeping all protocol in mind now, Y/N sanitized the entire area that may have been infected by the spilled spores. Once that was done, they headed to their quarters to rest and get their anxiety under control. A few hours later, they got a call from Janet saying the toxicology reports had come back clean. She also scolded Y/N for being so careless and told them they needed to be more careful with the spores but they didn’t seem to be showing any symptoms of anything. Still, they were to return instantly if any problems or symptoms did arise.

The next week was normal. Y/N worked in their lab as they usually did; Daniel said the team still needed his larger space for their document for another week or so, so he was still sharing the space. In the meantime, Y/N got used to having him around. Their heart settled down around him until his presence was a calming one for them. He talked through things with them, always willing to listen to their work or tell them about his own. They did the same for him when they could, doing their best to be a sounding board for ideas or thoughts or even just be a distraction when his research wasn’t turning out the way he thought it would.

They also got used to each other in other ways. Bringing each other food or drinks, reminding about meals or to just pull their heads out of research for a moment. When one got stuck, they seemed to unanimously decide to stop and just talk for a moment before going back to work with clearer heads. Their humor was already in line with each other, both having a sharp wit that led to quick banter and sassing each other across the lab. Y/N had a habit of sitting on the tables when it came to eating or doing certain tasks, something Daniel would always laugh at when he walked in on it or looked up when they made room on the tables. Sometimes, they’d even wander over to his designated tables to sit on them while chatting with him, getting lost in conversation and distracting both of them from work.

Daniel would always make sure they both got plenty of sleep and rest, more often than not being the one to pull them out of their work to make sure Y/n ate or did anything else that was needed. He almost memorized their schedule and managed to blend into it seamlessly. Y/N attributed that to him being an excellent communicator and it being his job to learn how someone else thinks and behaves. In return, Y/N would try to scatter silly and stupid notes throughout his books, things he would find in the middle of his research to laugh or comment on. They left plant puns, fun animal facts, and small tidbits about their team.

Almost two weeks after the spore incident, Daniel found another note. He laughed, startling Y/N out of their thought process. “Huh?! Wha?” they sputtered, head jerking up from their paper.

He laughed again when he saw them casually sitting cross-legged on the table, hunched over a clipboard and paper, in the middle of a scrawling observation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just really need to know the story behind this one.”

Y/N smiled at that laugh, finally coming back to the room instead of the alien plant before them they’d been considering. “Okay, which is it?”

“‘Did I ever tell you about the time Kenneth made Charles lick a bunch of rocks?’” Daniel read off the small notecard Y/N had placed in a book a day or so ago.

Y/N chuckled. “Oh, that! Yeah,” they shifted to face him more, their writing falling forgotten into their lap. “So, Kenneth was digging around what looked to be a temple of some sort and kept trying to show Charles something he claimed was funny. I only heard snippets of the beginning ‘cause I was actually being an adult and doing my job, but it was something about the different ways one could tell the difference between bone and rocks. My go-to method has always been to scratch it or something, then again, I usually have him help me when it comes to skeletons. Anyways, I finally hear Kenneth egging Charles on to do something. So, curious and tired, I wandered over to see what was going on, only to be greeted by the most ‘boys will be boys’ thing ever.”

Daniel chuckled, leaning forward with his hands clasped on the table. “Sounds like they were getting up to some typical dig shenanigans.”

Y/N nodded, laughing a bit. Yeah, they really were. I think we all were just pretty tired then, ‘cause not even Laurel tried to stop the shenanigans. So, there they were, both crouched over this pile of long, bone-like rocks. Kenneth looked up at me and asked,” Y/N did their best to imitate his Southern drawl, “‘D’ya know the best way to tell a bone from a rock?’ And I, being a normal person, responded, ‘Scratch it?’ He shook his head and said, ‘Lick it’. He then turned to Charles, crouching beside him and repeated himself. ‘Lick it’.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the next part, remembering the scene playing out before them. “Charles had the most confused look on his face and Kenneth was holding what I later learned to be a fifty dollar bill, a slip of paper, and a pen. Charles was desperately searching in the pile. I didn't hear it, but they’d made some sort of bet. If Charles is so great of a geologist, he should be able to pick out which is a rock and which is a bone. If he could, Kenneth would give him twenty-five dollars and an IOU. If he can’t, Charles gives Kenneth the same.

Daniel smiled softly, eyes glowing with excitement. “Did he? Find the bone, I mean.”

Y/N threw back their head, laughing. “That’s just the thing! There wasn’t a bone in there at all! Apparently, bone sticks to the tongue while rocks just taste like dirt. So, Charles was touching each one to his tongue in the hopes one stuck, getting more and more desperate as he went until finally, he was so desperate as to actually lick the stones. It turned out, Kenneth had set him up. There wasn’t a single bone in that pile, just a bunch of rocks! He’d just wanted to prove a point that none of us even remember now. All I remember is that Charles ended up losing the bet and, in retaliation, ate the last of the chocolate we’d had in camp. It was a full week until any kind of restock and I remember being so pissed at the time.”

Daniel laughed, eyes closed and head tilted back. Y/N’s breath was once again taken away by the view.

At least, they thought so, until they started coughing. The cough rattled their chest and knocked something loose, causing them to scramble to grab a nearby paper towel. Distantly, they heard Daniel’s char shoot back and his footsteps rushing over. His hand gently ran over their back, as if that could help the coughing fit die down, while the other carefully guided them to the edge of the table.

Once the fit stopped, Y/N pulled the paper towel away from their mouth and allowed themself to rest a part of their weight on Daniel. Looking at the paper towel, they saw small pink petals. Dazed, Y/N just stared confusedly at them. “Paeonia lactiflora?”

Daniel looked down at the mass of blood and petals in their hand. “Okay, I think we need to get you to the infirmary.” He helped them off the table, keeping a hand on their back to steady them. Y/N saw him take a glance around the room. “Is there anything time sensitive running right now?”

Y/N shook their head. “No, nothing that can’t wait a few more hours.”

“Okay, good.” Without wasting any more time, Daniel started steering Y/N toward the door.

Y/N tried to brush him off, even though his warm hands felt wonderful against them. “It’s alright, Daniel, I can walk on my own. You can go back to your research if you need to, I can make it to the infirmary just fine by myself.”

He shook his head. “I’d feel a lot better at least escorting you there myself. I don’t know what’s going on but it’s definitely not normal. If nothing else, I need to get checked out too just because I was in the same area when it happened. Protocol, after all.” He chuckled but it sounded weak, like it was just an act.

Y/N sighed and gave up, knowing full well just how stubborn he could be. They’d often seen him arguing with his team members, both in the commissary and when they stopped by the lab. Samantha Carter was most likely to stop by, actually knowing where Y/N’s lab is located, and debate something through with him. Y/N knew enough not to try to convince him he’s wrong when they don’t have any energy and right now, they were feeling a distinct lack of energy.

Besides, it would be nice to walk with Daniel, at least. It kept him within a close distance for just a few minutes more.

Finally, they nodded and reluctantly let him take part of their weight. “Okay, fine. But, you don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to do this out of some weird sense of obligation.”

He nodded, pressing the elevator call button. “I know. You’re an adult, not a child. Still, I’m allowed to worry over my friends.”

Friends. The word resonated inside Y/N’s mind, like the buzzing of a bee around a flower. It felt good to hear him say he considered them close enough to be a friend. It made them melt and forget about trying to argue their way into what they wanted. “Alright. So long as I’m not taking up your research time.”

“You’re not, don’t worry. Besides, even if you were, it’d be worth it. A laugh turning into coughing up blood and flower petals isn’t normal.”

Y/N smiled. “I know that much,” they snarked as the pair stepped into the elevator and Daniel hit the infirmary’s floor button.

“Although, you did seem to recognize what type they were.” Daniel glanced at Y/N as they leaned against the back wall.

Y/N nodded, looking at the paper towel in their hands, covered in petals and blood. “Yeah, they’re pink peony petals. Quite mundane, all things considered. I guess I expected something a bit more . . . alien.”

Daniel laughed as they got off. “Yeah, I guess if you’re coughing up flower petals, you wouldn’t expect to be able to identify them. I wonder if that means the spores evolved from a pink peony.”

Y/N shrugged, even as their mind started wandering to the possibilities and logistics of it. “Maybe.” Their thoughts started trying to trace the genetics of it, leaving the rest of the short walk devoid of conversation.

As they reached the infirmary, an orderly approached them. “How can I help?”

Y/N chuckled, rubbing the back of their neck. “Uh, I’m here for a follow up with Doc Fraiser about something I came in for about a week ago or so. Priority, please, it’s a lab accident.”

The orderly nodded and wrote something on a small notepad. Y/N had the weirdest feeling, like they were at a medical restaurant and they’d just given a waiter their order. A laugh bubbled up in their chest but instead of coming forward, another coughing fit took its place. Daniel instantly tightened his arm around their shoulders and took some of their weight as the cough shook their chest.

The orderly looked concerned but still looked at Daniel. “And you, Doctor Jackson?”

He sighed. “I was in the room with them during the- the lab accident.” His voice turned hard and authoritative. “Go find Doctor Fraiser now, it’s urgent!”

Y/N had never heard that tone of voice coming from him before but they didn’t have the energy to ask anything about it, only to wheeze their breaths in and out, keeping their breathing as steady as possible. The old breath training they had done was coming back into play as they took to counting the breaths and timing them.

The orderly’s feet moved out of Y/N’s line of sight and Daniel soon guided them along with a quiet and gentle, “Come on, this way.” Y/N didn’t bother looking where they were being taken, trusting Daniel and the others around them to help as they just kept their head down, soaked paper towel over their mouth, and concentrated on breathing.

“Up, please,” Daniel murmured. Y/N looked up and saw an exam bed in front of them. Dutifully, they got up on it and leaned against the wall, pulling their legs close to their torso for comfort. Daniel’s touch didn’t leave them, shifting to rest his hand on their arm as he pulled a nearby chair close. “How are you feeling?”

Y/N smiled weakly. “More or less fine, all things considered. My chest hurts but that might just be from the coughing.”

“And the mystery flowers, most likely.”

Y/N released a single, tentative chuckle. “Yeah, and those.”

Quick, sharp footsteps reached Y/N and they looked up to see Janet walking toward them. “I was told this has something to do with the last time you were here?”

Y/N nodded. “I think so, anyway. I breathed in spores a week ago and, now, I’m coughing up flower petals.” They held up the soaked and mangled paper towel, piled with flower petals, as evidence.

Janet’s eyes widened. “I’d say that’s pretty serious. How long has this been happening?”

“Not long, Doc. Daniel brought me in pretty much as soon as it started.”

He nodded, standing with one hand in his pocket and the other still on Y/N’s arm in a comforting manner. The warmth of his hand seeped through their lab coat and sleeve, providing a wonderful spot to focus on and forget about everything. Still, Y/N brought their attention back to the task at hand. “Yeah, I don’t know what happened,” Daniel was saying. “One minute, we’re talking as we usually do. The next, they’re coughing up peonies!”

Y/N shook their head. “Not the full flowers, just the petals,” they corrected. “Although, I may have seen a few stamens in that pile. I didn’t have time to grab a contamination bag before leaving the lab, sorry.”

Janet shook her head. “No need to apologize, it’s completely understandable.”

Y/N stated their theory of the coughing and petals being due to the spores they’d accidentally inhaled a week ago. Janet and Daniel quickly agreed, meaning others weren’t in any danger from them and Y/N wasn’t contagious. Once that was done, a litany of tests were started on Y/N keeping them in the infirmary for the majority of the day.

“Can I get you anything to make this easier?” Daniel asked when they had a moment to breathe. A precious moment as it was. “I know from experience these can feel exhausting and boring at the same time.”

Y/N smiled. “I’m actually kinda hungry. Think you could sneak in a sandwich from the commissary?”

Daniel nodded. “I can definitely do that. Do you want anything to entertain you? I imagine with all these tests, it’s going to be a while before you’re out of here.”

Y/N considered for a moment. ‘Um, I’ve got a book I’m reading on my desk if you wouldn’t mind grabbing that. It should be tucked next to my bag and my research book.”

Daniel nodded again. “Yep, I know what you’re talking about. I shouldn’t have too much trouble bringing you food and a book. I’ll be right back.”

While Daniel was gone, Janet came back and brought Y/N to another room for a chest x-ray. Y/N was in the bed, waiting for their results, when Daniel got back with the food and book. They smiled at him. “Thank you so much. I’ll admit, I was getting rather bored without anything to do in here to the point I was resorting to reading pretty much anything in sight or just watching the orderlies and nurses go about their tasks. It was starting to feel a bit creepy.”

Daniel smiled. “I get that. Sitting here for hours on end isn’t fun for anyone. Do you want me to stay with you, keep you company? Or, would you rather be left to your own devices?”

“I actually think I’d like the company, if you wouldn’t mind, Daniel. I’m a bit anxious right now and could use your claiming presence, if you don’t mind and don’t have anything more pressing.” Y/N lifted the book slightly. “I’ll probably just be sitting here reading, I completely understand if you’d rather leave.”

Daniel sat, the smile still on his face. “That’s okay. I can just sit here and read too, or go through a bit of paperwork I may have been avoiding. If anything, sitting here would keep me more productive, not less.”

Y/N laughed lightly at that. “Okay, that’d be great, thanks.”

A chapter into the quiet reading, only interrupted by the occasional coughing fit on Y/N’s part, Janet came back over. “The x-ray results just came back and I’m officially concerned.”

Y/N put their book down to pay full attention to the doctor and saw Daniel do the same thing out of the corner of their eye. “What exactly does that mean, Doc?”

Janet opened a folder she was holding and pulled out an x-ray, silently handing it to Y/N. They held it up to the nearest light and saw plant-like structures jutting from the bottoms and sides of the lungs. Y/N shook their head, chuckling lightly. “This- this can’t be right. Plants growing within lungs are very rare and definitely don’t live long enough to flower!”

Daniel took another of the x-ray images. “What?!”

Janet sighed. “Unfortunately, it would seem those spores you inhaled a week ago took root and started to grow. Currently, they are anchored to your lungs and there doesn’t seem to be a way to get them out without severely damaging your respiratory system. I’ve already informed General Hammond and he’s sent your team back to contact the local people of the planet to see if they know what’s going on. For now, I recommend bed rest and no strenuous activity. Although, based on what I’ve observed today, even laughing too hard can agitate the condition.”

“Wh-what’s going on, Doc?” Y/N asked, voice quiet.

“Again, we don’t have all the answers. For now, I’m treating you as a patient with COPD, even if it’s not entirely an accurate description of your situation.”

“I’m sorry, what’s COPD?” Daniel leaned forward.

“Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease. Or, a continuous disease that hinders the ability to breath and the functioning of the airways. RIght now, you just need to rest and make sure you’re getting enough oxygen. We don’t know what’s causing the flowers right now and we don’t know how to get rid of them.”

Y/N sighed, sitting back in the bed. “Okay, I get it. Thank you, Doc.”

Daniel looked at Janet. “Does this mean they’re discharged for now? Could they rest in their quarters instead of the infirmary?” Ever the practical one, Daniel was asking the necessary questions.

Janet nodded. “Yes, that would probably be for the best.” She once again stressed not to do anything too strenuous and left to care for another patient.

Daniel helped Y/N gather their things and walked with them to their quarters.

“Thank you, Daniel,” Y/N said once they’d arrived. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me today. Even just sitting with me was actually a big help, I really needed you today.”

Daniel shrugged one shoulder, sticking a hand in his pocket, his expression soft. “I’m always happy to help. I just hope your team can come back with an answer to what’s going on.”

“I do too, Daniel. I do too.”

~~~~

Daniel rushed over to the Gate Room as soon as he heard the Gate alarm. SG-13 was the only team currently offworld and they had been gone for nearly two weeks, searching for a solution on P3X-326. Daniel was hoping they had brought some good news back with them. When the team walked through the gate, however, Doctor Kenneth Sardoni looked particularly dejected.

“How did it go?” Daniel asked, fidgeting with his hands.

Kenneth looked at him. “Not as well as I’d hoped, Sir.” No matter how many times Daniel said he didn’t have a higher rank than any other scientist, Kenneth still insisted on calling him that. “I’d originally speculated they might be Mayan from their ruins and I was able to confirm it when looking at the people and their cities. Unfortunately, I don’t speak Mayan as my focus was mainly on Sub-Saharan Africa and they don’t speak anything I do or anything close to it. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t get anything from them as much as I wanted to.”

Daniel nodded, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Okay. Wait a half hour to cool off and for me to get a few things done, then I’ll gear up and go there with you. I’m fluent in Mayan and a few other Central American languages so it shouldn’t be a problem for me.”

Major Laurel Thomas stepped forward. “Don’t you need permission for that, Doctor Jackson?”

He nodded, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I do. But, the half hour should also be enough. I’m confident I’m the only one in this facility who is fluent in the majority of Mayan dialects, from the extinct to the extant, and I can be useful. Besides,” he bounced on the balls of his feet, “I want to help Y/N.”

Kenneth and Doctor Charles DeSoto shared a glance Daniel couldn’t decipher, smiling between each other. Still, the team agreed.

Just as promised, Daniel was ready to go in half an hour and already given permission by General Hammond. “Are you all ready to go?” He marched into the Gate Room, strapping on the last thing he needed and buckling the last bit of his vest.

Major Thomas stood at attention, looking like she was inches away from saluting him. “Yes, Sir, we are.”

Daniel chuckled. “I like the attitude, Major, but you outrank me in every way. I’m just a civilian with a few PhDs and that doesn’t compare with your military rank. Not to mention, you’ve already been to this planet multiple times while this is my first time. As far as I’m concerned, you’re in charge here and I”m just tagging along as support.”

Major Thomas nodded. “In that case, please, call me Laurel. Everyone else does.” She glared at her teammates, who just chuckled behind her.

“Laurel it is,” Daniel agreed. Laurel looked up at the Gate Control Room and nodded, giving them the go. With that simple signal, the Gate started up. Daniel turned to Kenneth. “Doctor Sardoni, catch me up on the planet, please.”

Kenneth bounced in place as he watched the Gate spin. “Plese, at this point, I think everyone wants to be on a first name basis with you. Besides, we’ve interacted a few times when I stopped by Y/N’s lab and you were there.” Daniel nodded but didn’t say anything, just let the man get to the point when he wanted to.

“So, P3X-326 is mostly a jungle planet from what I’ve gathered. The people there are very reminiscent of Mayan culture from what I’ve studied. I’ve yet to find any burial rituals or sites, not even a single grave. Then again, I’ve yet to look or dig in their occupied territory as we try to leave that alone when working on planets like this. Their sculptures are on par with what would be expected of roughly 300 BC with solar calendars and what seems to be a king in place. They also have intricate and complex murals typical of that time. Either the people were taken at that time or they naturally advanced to it.”

Daniel nodded. “What’s the writing system like, can you tell? I’d assume it’s typical of the Mayans but it may have been influenced by the Goa’uld.”

“Oh, uh, it’s still logo-syllabic. The Mayans and Egyptians had a lot of similarities at that timeframe so, even though I didn’t study a lot of Egyptian it kinda gets picked up in this line of work, I wasn’t able to see if the Goa’uld had changed how they wrote or not. I’m sorry, Daniel.” He bounced again, as if he were giddy just to be talking to him.

Daniel smiled despite himself. “That’s okay, Kenneth, it’s not entirely needed.”

The Stargate locked the final chevron and the group stepped through. Daniel found himself in a dense and humid jungle, breathing through the crushing and cold feeling that came with Gate travel. He stepped to the side, eyes already scanning the area for anything that might help him and feeling grateful for the warmth of the jungle.

Laurel spoke quietly with Kenneth for a moment before calmly calling for the group’s attention. “Alright, I think it’d be best to do this as fast as possible. Kenneth already knows where the nearest city is, but it’s a bit of a hike. It’s obvious that the people rarely come out here.”

Daniel nodded and fell in behind the rest, Laurel setting a smooth and comfortable pace that belied the many times she had led the other two men before. As the group walked, natural pairings sprang up. Charles danced ahead with Laurel chasing after him and Kenneth stayed with Daniel, still talking about the planet’s civilization. “So far, this seems to be one of the smaller city states. I did a bit of research on the Mayans before coming here after hearing about Y/N getting hurt but it’s amazing. It’s always one thing to study something and another to truly see it, living and breathing in front of you.” His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

Despite the worry Daniel felt, and the romantic feelings toward Y/N he had already accepted, he couldn’t help but smile at Kenneth’s excitement. “I agree completely, it really is amazing to see your life’s work come alive in front of you. It’s exactly how I felt when I first stepped foot on Abydos, like my research had come alive before my eyes. Or, more accurately, like I’d been transported back in time to ancient Egypt.”

His chest tightened, as it always did at the thought of Abydos and Sha’re. Still, it was a duller ache than it had once been. It would never go away entirely, but it had faded with time. He’d recently realized he was ready for someone new in his life, just as he already knew who his heart had in mind for it. He would always love Sha’re. Abydos and the people there would always feel like home. But that little lab across the way from his also felt like home now, too. Daniel was okay with that and ready to embrace the next chapter of his life.

They continued to talk about Gate travel and meeting civilizations they’d only ever read about until Daniel heard Charles call Laurel something Y/N would call her too. Daniel chuckled. “Kenneth, quick question.”

“Yeah?”

“Why does your team call Laurel ‘Boss Man’?”

Kenneth laughed. “Oh, that. Well, it started when we first got teamed up together. Laurel was still trying to find her place in the SGC and being a woman commanding a team mainly made of men made her self conscious slightly. She thought she had to act tough and boss us around a lot in order to get our respect. Charles started calling her the ‘boss lady’ at that point, complaining about all the rules and things. Y/N would just laugh and say, ‘She’s the boss, man, deal with it’. So, we started calling her the Boss Man as a joke from that phrase. She liked it, said it gave her confidence and made her feel respected. So, we continued calling her that.”

Daniel thanked him for the explanation and their banter continued until they reached the city Laurel had mentioned. Then, Kenneth took point and led them to a specific house. “Even though I was having a hard time communicating, and there wasn’t a lot of common communication ground we could find, there was still one person more willing to talk to me than others. I think she’s a healer, which might even help us in what we need right now.”

Daniel felt his excitement and desperation building as they neared the healer’s house, a sign of a mortar and pestle hanging above it. Kenneth knocked and a tall woman opened the door soon after, looking like she had just stepped out of a Central American house. She smiled at the group and waved them in. “Come in, come in!”

Daniel nodded and smiled back at her. She was speaking some form of Ixil, most likely an older dialect of it. “Thank you very much,” he responded in Ixil, hoping the dialect he knew wasn’t too far off from hers and she could understand him.

“Oh! You speak Mamean?”

Danile shook his head as the group stepped into the house, waiting to be the last one in so he could continue to converse with her. “No, unfortunately, I speak a slightly different dialect but it seems they’re close enough that we can understand each other.”

She nodded and ushered the group deeper. Kenneth sidled closer to Daniel. “So, you really can understand her?”

Daniel nodded. “Yeah, uh, she’s speaking an older form of Ixil, a dialect still spoken in Guatemala today. She called it ‘Mamean’ which, if I remember my flow charts correctly, is a root of Ixil. I should be able to talk with her just fine and get the info we need.”

“That’s great!” Kenneth cheered, moving to pass the information along to the other two.

Daniel silently agreed as the group entered a larger chamber. The healer insisted the group sit. Laurel kept her gun in her lap but the other members of her team but theirs to the side. Daniel kept a hold of his Zat, he hadn’t brought a larger gun. He turned to look at her host, paying careful attention to the way she sat and adjusting his seat to match. “Thank you for your hospitality. I am Daniel, and my companions are Laurel, Kenneth, and Charles.” Each of them nodded as he said their name.

The healer smiled. “I am Nikte, a healer and guide.”

Daniel tilted his head. “Guide?”

She nodded. “Yes, I guide those who choose to embark on a spiritual journey with the plants Han’haki, Lux’zed, Miranebus, Xyi’an, Loneilla, or Abkid.”

“Is there any specific area that these may be found?”

“Yes, there’s a clearing far away from the city that naturally has all the plants that are used in my craft. It’s a religious site to us Mameans and very few people are allowed to go there unless they are going on a spiritual journey.”

Daniel blinked, almost overwhelmed by his emotions. “I apologize, do you happen to have any of these plants that I may see? Someone close to us stumbled across the clearing and we think something may have happened to them there.”

“Of course!” Nikte stood and left the room, her skirts swishing around her ankles in a kaleidoscope of colors.

“Daniel, can I have a translation?” Laurel drew his attention back to her.

“Yeah, so, uh, I just introduced us. She said she’s Nikte, a healer and guide. With my, admittedly, limited knowledge of Mayan civilization, I remember reading something about herbalism being for both physical healing and connecting to the spiritual realm. So, I asked her to describe her role as a guide. She mentioned using multiple plants to do spiritual journeys, all of which were in the clearing Y/N stumbled on and she’s gone to get a sample of them now. Has anyone else seen the sample Y/N grabbed?”

Laurel nodded. “I was there when they got it and we all perused the clearing.”

“Great! I saw them working on it in the lab but, uh, I wasn't exactly paying attention to the plant at the time.” he resisted the urge to act sheepishly. Still, he caught the other men exchanging that glance again, Charles smiling slightly again and he wondered what it was about.

Nikte came back and handed several leaves to Daniel. He picked out a white fern-like leaf and held it up, raising his brows at Laurel. She nodded, confirming it was the plant Y/N had picked up. Daniel nodded back before turning his attention back to their host and addressing her in Ixil. “I believe this is the plant. Which one is it?”

“This is the Han’haki plant.”

“What exactly does the Han’haki plant do?”

Her face and tone turned serious. “It’s a very dangerous process. The plant must be in the right season, which is now. Those wishing to learn their emotions better must then breathe in the seeds. Within seven suns, the plants will take root. Another three suns, and they will grow. Then, the emotions must be addressed.”

“What emotions, exactly?”

“Whatever is troubling the traveler the most in the moment. DIfferent plants are used for different emotions, the Han’haki should not be used as a cure for everything.”

“Okay. So, say a person accidentally inhaled the seeds of the Han’haki. What would happen?”

“They would start the journey if they are wrestling with emotions of the heart. Particularly: longing, love, or desire. Why? Has this person done so?”

Daniel bit his lip. “Yes, they have. As I said, they accidentally stumbled into that sacred clearing and, not knowing what the plant was or what it could do, breathed in some of the seeds. What would happen if the emotion is not dealt with? Will the plants die on their own?”

NIkte shook her head, the color draining from her face. “Oh, no! The traveler will have a moon, at most, before the plants overcome them and they die from lack of breath. I pray that your traveler does not meet that fate, it is a most unfortunate way to go that only the most stubborn of us succumb to.”

Daniel startled and leaned forward, brow furrowing. “How are the emotions dealt with, exactly?”

“That part is simple. The traveler has to realize they harbor such emotions and declare them to themself. It is not needed to declare them to the person the emotions target, but often people find it helpful for them to be spoken aloud or talked through with someone else.”

Daniel smiled, hope filling his chest. “Thank you, Nikte, you have been a great help.”

“Thank you for the questions, Dan’iel.” She gathered her plants and stood. “I will put these away now.”

Daniel waited for her to leave out of the same door from last time before he quickly relayed all the information he’d gathered to the rest of the group. The color drained from Laurel’s face, leaving her looking ashen. “What?! You mean Y/N only has a month to live, at most?!”

Daniel held his hands up placatingly. “Yes, but the solution is really simple. All they need to do is accept the emotions they have. Essentially, Y/N is harboring some emotions that they’re unwilling to admit to themself, or that they think aren’t acceptable. Once they accept those feelings, Y/N should be fine.”

“Hey,” Charles leaned forward. “When she gets back, could you ask her what happens to the flowers after the feelings are dealt with?”

Daniel nodded. Kenneth also nodded, chewing on the end of a pen he’d pulled from his pocket. There wasn’t any paper in his other hand, just the pen. “I’d assume the flowers would die,” Kenneth speculated, “having served their purpose. However, I don’t know how that would work. Would the ‘traveler’ just cough the flowers up for another month? Is there a way they’d be absorbed into the body?”

Daniel put a hand on his arm, silencing his stream of words. “That’s a bit too far for right now, Kenneth. Right now, we just need to figure out what’s going on with Y/N. We can ask the other questions later. However, I don’t know that Nikte would appreciate the theory of the plants dying. Mayan herbalism believes plants are sacred beings with the power to heal both body and spirit. Every plant, to them, has its own unique energy and purpose and many are needed to restore balance and harmony if something is awry or just to maintain them.”

Nikte came back and sat again. “Is there anything more I can help you with?”

Daniel turned to look at her again. “Uh, yes, just one more question. What happens to the plants within the traveler when the emotions are realized?”

“They have served their purpose and, for the most part, are pulled into the rest of the body to restore balance to the spirit. A few flower petals are left over, but those are coughed up within seven suns or less. Everything else is perfectly harmless.”

Daniel smiled. “Thank you very much, Nikte. You’ve been a great help and have saved the life of my friend.”

She smiled back as they all stood. “It’s my pleasure! I’m always happy to help, especially those who are curious about herbalism. Please, return if you have further questions.”

“We certainly will. Thank you, again,” Daniel said as she ushered the group out her door.

The team discussed what they knew as they walked back to the Stargate. Daniel wanted to run back and instantly report it but he knew it wasn’t practical. Y/N would survive another hour or two of walking if they truly had a month to survive. Still, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel the pressing need to see them again and tell them everything was going to be alright. It was a very similar feeling to what he’d had with Sha’re, but not exactly the same. Nothing would be the exact same as his wife, but things could be different in a good way.

Along the way, Daniel told the team everything they needed to know about the plants, details sufficient for the mission reports Laurel would need to be writing and the others would need for the debrief. When they got back to the SGC, he stopped just long enough to put his Zat back in the weapons lock up and take off the bulkier parts of his BDUs before he was racing down the corridors on his way to the infirmary.

~~~~

Daniel skidded into the med bay, eyes scanning the area. Y/N could feel his presence, their eyes instantly drawn to the motion and to all that made him what he was. He caught sight of Janet and moved to talk to her, saying something in a low voice. The entire conversation, both were casting furtive glances at Y/N. They felt that now familiar tickle in their lungs but with both doctors looking at them, they pushed it down, refusing to cough.

Eventually, they had to give in and coughed into a provided handkerchief, turning to the side to make less obvious the coughing and just how soaked that scrap of fabric truly was with blood already. Still, when the coughing subsided and their eyes traced back to Daniel, both he and Janet were already nearing YN’s bedside.

“How are you feeling right now, Y/N?” Janet asked, checking their vitals and monitoring systems.

“Oh, just fine! Could run a marathon if I wanted to!” Y/N joked, hoping to get a laugh out of either person. Neither of them so much as twitched.

“Daniel tells me he’s talked to someone on P3X-326 and found the cure for your lung problem,” Janet continued.

Y/N sat up straighter, mind feeling active for the first time in what felt like a while. “Yes? What is it?”

Daniel stepped closer, a hand landing on the end of the bed and the other going to his hip. Y/N took a moment to admire his physique before he spoke. “The resident of P3X-326 that I spoke to says that the clearing you found is some kind of sacred or, uh, religious site to the people. They use it and the plants inside it for spiritual journeys, finding the emotions they’ve buried deep inside and confronting them. Or,” he paused, licking his lip and shifting his footing, “dying in the process.”

Y/N nodded, gears already turning in their head. “Okay, so the plant uses chemosynthesis instead of photosynthesis and feeds on certain chemicals in the body? Are there any chemicals we can use to kill it, then?”

Daniel shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Nikte described it as each plant in that clearing feeding on a different repressed emotion. If you don’t repress that specific emotion, it doesn’t seem like anything happens. If that emotion is being repressed, though, then the plant will eat you from the inside until you stop repressing it and confront it. Without acknowledging you have those emotions, the plant will suffocate you within a month.”

“So, what emotion does this plant feed on?” Y/N thought they already knew it, had maybe known it the whole time, they just needed someone to confirm their suspicions and say it aloud.

Daniel smiled softly, eyes tender and compassionate. “Romantic longing.”

Y/N barked out a laugh. Looking between Daniel and Janet, they saw just how serious the two were, both so certain this was the only solution. Eventually, Y/N just shook their head. “No.”

Daniel tilted his head, shifting his footing again. “What do you mean, ‘no’? I-I-I I just told you the solution, the only known cure to this entire thing. Y/N, you are dying, and there’s a very simple thing you can do to stop that, and you don’t want to do that?!”

Y/N closed their burning eyes, tipping their head back against the wall. “I know, I know it’s stupid. All I have to do is confess my deepest, darkest secret. I just have to bare my soul, and I’m cured of a fatal disease. I just-I can’t do that. I can’t.”

Janet put a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “I understand how hard this will be and, I hate to ask what Daniel just did but, are you sure you’d rather die?”

Y/N shook their head. “Is there another way? Any other way? I mean, sure, that’s the only known cure, but it can’t be the only one in existence, right? I mean, now that we know this thing feeds on the chemicals tied to longing, Janet or someone else can probably figure out what chemicals those are and synthesize a blocker for them. It won’t even have to be expressed, they can just be stopped, right?”

Y/N didn’t open their eyes, willing away the desperation creeping into their voice and the way their lungs were already seizing from a lack of air and speaking so much at once. They took a slow and deep breath, trying their best to get as much oxygen as possible. Soon enough, they would need to be hooked up to an oxygen tank if they wanted to live past the month marker. They knew the logical choice was to just say it. They didn’t even need to look Daniel in the eye when they said it, but they felt like they’d rather sink through lava than confess those closely held feelings they’d only just acknowledged were there. They’d never consider acting on them, keeping them close and only letting them out in the safety of privacy.

Janet must have shared a look with Daniel as Y/N soon felt the bed dip on the side he’d been standing on. “Y/N, you don’t really mean that. Right now, we’re doing what we can to find another way, but there’s just no guarantee that it’ll be found in time, or at all. You can’t risk this. People need you.”

Y/N shook their head, tears gathering at the corners of their eyes even as they heaved a gasping breath. “I don’t want to say it.” Their voice grew small, fragile. “You’ll never see me the same way again.”

Daniel’s warm and comforting hand rested on their thigh, his thumb stroking soothingly over their clothes. “If I promise that my opinion of you won’t change, would you tell me?” His voice was just as soft as his tough, hesitating as if Y/N were a fragile doll who’d break at the wrong word.

Y/N opened their mouth to answer but, doubled over instead, coughing up more pink peony petals. Leaning back, exhausted, they weighed their options. Finally, they gave a rueful chuckle and shook their head, wearily looking over at Daniel. “You can’t promise that. I know better than anyone, you can’t promise what emotions you’ll have. Even if you could, I wouldn’t want you to change them just because I asked you to.”

Daniel nodded, eyes contemplative but his jaw set. “You’re right, I can’t. I may not be able to control what emotion I have or what reaction I have, but I can control how I’ll react to those emotions. I promise not to make a big deal out of whatever you say, no matter how big of a deal it is to you. What if I let you set the pace, determine what happens after you say it? If you still want to talk to me, or if you need some time away, I’ll respect whatever decision you make. Either way, I’m here for you, and always will be if I can help it.”

Janet smiled and squeezed Y/N’s shoulder. “Even if you wanted to talk right away, that wouldn’t be possible. We’ll have to do some extensive surgery right after the flowers are killed and we’ll have to pull them up through your trachea. You won’t be able to speak for a few weeks afterwards. Does that help ease your mind at all?”

Instead of soothing them, Janet’s words made Y/N’s heart ache all the more. Longing swelled up inside of them. Part of them wondered if it was the right time, to just get it all out at once and be done with it. Part of them knew they couldn’t handle the look in Daniel’s eyes if things didn’t go well. The look in his eyes if things did go well scared them all the more, wondering what it would be like and if his feelings would turn out to be as intense as theirs. This all fed the plants in their lungs and caused them to shift and grow, leading to another coughing fit. Daniel moved closer, handing Y/N a fresh handkerchief before holding their shoulders and rubbing a soothing hand over their back as they did their best to ride it out. He winced, sucking air through his teeth, at the sight of fresh blood and petals on their handkerchief. Janet quickly swept away their old one before either noticed it.

Y/N sighed and leaned back, letting Daniel take some of their weight. “I don’t want to do this,” they said in a low voice for him to hear. They looked up at him, eyes almost pleading.

Daniel nodded, still rubbing their back, and leaned in close to speak softly in their ear. “I know, I know. It’s always difficult to say things that have been shoved deep down, even more so if they’ve been deliberately buried. It hurts to dig it up, but it needs to be done if you want to live.”

Y/N shook their head, still using that low tone. “What if it breaks both our hearts? If the words I have to say do more damage than good, wouldn’t it be better for them to not be said at all?”

Daniel shifted to be in front of them, seeming to fill their entire vision with himself. He looked down and took their hands before looking into their eyes and speaking in a strong and quiet voice. “Hey, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but this is ridiculous. I’d rather have you say something incredibly hurtful to me and have us work through it together than have you lose your life over words not said and feelings not understood. No matter how bad it is, I’ll do my best to still stay by your side at the end of it all.”

Y/N coughed again, pulling their hand away to fill the handkerchief with more bloody petals. Even with all that reassurance, they didn’t think they could say the words to his face without losing their nerves. “Okay.” They took a slow and deep breath. “But, can I only tell Janet? I don’t think I could actually tell you these things just yet, Daniel. I’m sorry.”

Janet squeezed their shoulder once more, both waiting for Daniel to leave. He patted Y/N’s leg once more before acquiescing and pulling the curtain closed behind him. Beyond it, Y/N could hear him shooing away anyone within earshot. Janet moved to sit facing Y/N on the bed, seeming to also be listening to Daniel get rid of any eavesdroppers. “Okay, we’re alone, it seems.” She didn’t say anything else, just waited for Y/N to speak.

They blinked hard, throat and chest already starting to ache again despite all the medicines they were on. “What can I say, Doc? I’m in love with my friend and coworker. Every little thing about him attracts me so much, there are times I physically ache when I see Daniel. I want to be in his arms at the end of a long day, share every little thing with him, to make sure he’s doing okay and that he’s got what he needs. The best parts of my days are when I get to see him in the lab, when we share meals, swap stories, and just generally get closer. The worst part of it all is that I keep thinking of his passed wife and knowing I’ll never compare to her. No matter how much I love him, how much I ache for him, I'd rather literally die than tell that to his face. I don’t want to dishonor her memory and kill any chance of our friendship continuing past this moment, this point in time. I love him too much to destroy him with that.”

As Y/N sat there, heaving air into their lungs, the curtain rolled back and Daniel stepped back into the space. His eyes were wide with shock, mouth hanging open slightly. “Do you really mean that?” he asked breathlessly.

Y/N nodded. Before they could even explain anything, they could feel the roots detach from their lungs. They gasped, clutching their chest. “Doc,” their voice sounded strange to their ears. They reached out for Janet, fingers clutching her lab coat.

Janet instantly started disconnecting Y/N from their machines. “Daniel, I’m going to need you to move. You can wait outside for the surgery, I don’t care, but you can’t be right here.” She raised her voice. “Veronica! Freddy! Susie! Prep for immediate surgery!”

Y/N was wheeled away before they could even say anything else, avoiding Daniel’s eyes as they passed by him. They couldn’t bear to see that look of shock turn into one of pain, couldn't bear to see it turn to disgust and anger. They didn’t want him to be upset with them, didn’t want him to regret ever saying he’d stay by their side through this. Now that their closest held secret was out in the open, Y/N felt a small weight lift from their chest, but an even bigger one settled as the anxiety of it all kicked in and the weight of the flowers took their toll.

Still, there was no time to wallow in the anxiety. Their lungs were filled with flowers, stems, and branches. A veritable bush was growing inside them and they could almost feel it pushing into their windpipe. There wasn’t time for anything, barely any room left in their lungs for air. They were prepped for surgery as fast as Janet could get them to the operating room. Soon enough, they were given the anesthesia and slipped into sweet oblivion, a place their troubles couldn’t follow.

When they woke, the first thing they felt was a burning pain in their throat. Y/N instinctively groaned, only worsening the pain. Footsteps came from close by and Janet came into their view. “Don’t try to speak right now, Y/N. we just had to do major surgery by going down your trachea to extract the plants. Your vocal cords are gonna need some time to heal from that.”

Y/N almost tried to ask, ‘how long’ but settled for making a confused and worried expression, a bit of frustration already mixing in. They pulled Janet’s hand to them, writing out the question on her palm instead.

Janet smiled. “Ah, sorry, I forgot I was going to give you this!” She pulled out a small chalkboard that was just big enough to comfortably carry around and a pouch attached to it. Pulling a piece of chalk out of the pouch, she handed both to Y/N. “And, to answer the question of timeframe, you need to not speak for three to four weeks at the minimum to give the vocal cords a chance to recover. In the meantime, I recommend some soothing teas to help with the inflamed throat. I'm sorry, it was the easiest way to do it that didn’t involve going through other things or taking longer to heal.”

Y/N nodded. “Thanks very much, Dr. Fraiser,” they wrote.

Janet smiled again, reading it. “You’re welcome. For now, just try to get some rest. I want to keep you here for another day or so but after that you can go back to working on base. I won’t clear you for field duty until your voice is back and you pass a standard health check. Other than that, everything is fine for now.”

Y/N underlined their previous message, indicating they were saying it again. Janet reassured them they were welcome and moved to walk away. Before she could, Y/N grabbed her sleeve. Once they had the doctor’s attention again, they quickly wrote out what they wanted to say. “My throat hurts. Is that to be expected? Or should I be on meds for that?”

Janet nodded, looking over Y/N’s chart for a moment. “Ah, okay. You really shouldn’t be in much pain right now. On a one to ten scale, how bad is it?” Y/N thought for a moment before raising seven fingers. Janet nodded, making a note on the chart. “I’ll open the drip of the meds wider so you’ll get more. You should be feeling better soon. For now, just try to get some rest.” She walked away after fixing the drip.

Once again, Y/N was left alone with their thoughts. They were still embarrassed they’d said all that with Daniel in earshot. They’d expected privacy and hadn’t truly gotten it. Still, they couldn’t quite say they regretted it. A small part of them felt good to finally have those words off their chest, feeling freer now that it was in the open.

Y/N laid down as their thoughts wandered to how long they’d known Daniel. They’d first seen him when they first arrived at the facility a few years ago. Since then, they’d interacted with him in small ways in the halls and rooms of the building. Occasionally, they’d pass each other as teams swapped out in the Gate Room. For a long time, that was the closest they’d gotten to him, passing like ships in the night. It was one of those moments when they’d first realized just how bright and captivating his eyes looked and how similar they seemed to the color of the Gate itself.

Y/N was rushing to catch up with the rest of their team, still shuffling through a few pages of research and reports about the planet. Daniel had been just exiting the Gate Room when Y/N bumped into him, sending the papers flying. “Oh, sorry about that!” Daniel said, crouching to help pick them up.

Y/N was already on the floor, scrambling to grab their papers. “No, I”m sorry, it’s completely my fault! I wasn’t watching where I was going.” They could feel their cheeks heating up in mortification. Dropping papers in front of and literally running into the most elite team on the base, how clumsy could they be!

“Daniel, come on!” Colonel O’Neill called from farther down the hall.

Daniel looked up at him, still crouched. “No, Jack, you guys go on ahead! I’ll join you in a bit.” He didn’t wait for his friend’s response and just went right back to picking up the papers.

Once all papers were gathered, Y/N and Daniel stood up. “Thank you so much, Doctor Jackson!” Y/N said, clutching their research pages to their chest .

Daniel smiled, putting his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Oh, it’s not that big of a deal. I’m glad I could help, is all.” It was that moment, standing so close to each other, that Y/N realized just how clear of a color his eyes were, like a deep blue lake on a gorgeous day or a cloudless sky. They also reminded Y/N of the Stargate’s event horizon and how blue it was.

“Thank you, again!” Y/N forced their eyes away from his and rushed past him into the Gate Room, already calling apologies to the rest of their team and trying to ignore the heat in their cheeks that they knew they’d be teased for later.

Y/N’s thoughts drifted away from their first true interaction with him and towards their more mundane and everyday memories of him. There were times when they came into the mess hall at the height of the day, when it seemed like everyone and their family was in there and no table was left unoccupied. Those days, Daniel would tend to wave them over to his table. It didn’t matter if he was sitting alone, with his team, or with other colleagues, he’d let Y/N come and sit near him. They often didn’t talk during those times, just sat next to him and quietly ate their food, typically reading a book or a report on something. Still, those were times they got to see him in his natural habitat and at his most relaxed, bantering with his team.

They saw the way he leaned on Sam for support and scientific discussion, the way he leaned on Teal’c for anthropology talk and the deeper meaning of life. They saw the way he bantered and argued with Jack, talking of anything from the more mundane world things to the existential, how Jack and Daniel would lean on each other for the constants in their lives. Watching those discussions, and occasionally getting dragged into them themself, was when Y/N first started feeling that small seed of something in their heart. It wasn’t when they first started tending to it, though, that came later.

Y/N also sat in on briefings, some facility wide and some contained to very few people. That was when they first started tending to that small seed of longing, nourishing it and letting it grow. It was when they say how smart he truly was, how capable and composed he could be. How concisely he argued his points and stood up not only to his team members but to others and General Hammond. They saw how determined he was and the level of dedication he devoted to everything he did, pouring all his energy into everything.

Not only that, but their labs were close enough that if Y/N left their door open, they’d often hear Daniel talk to his team members as his door was almost always left open. There were times when Y/N would stop what they were doing simply to listen to the cadence of Daniel’s voice. The way he talked of his work was mesmerizing to hear. That was when the seed truly blossomed into something bigger, a tangible feeling of longing emerging from a casing of curiosity.

It was only while sharing a lab with him that Y/N understood what they were feeling. They didn’t acknowledge it or recognize that they were feeling love and longing toward him but looking back at it made it painfully obvious. They’d classified it as a crush, always waiting for the feelings to fade and for their heart to move on, to stop longing for the unattainable. They didn’t let them be out in the open until the Han’haki incident and if it weren’t for that they may never have let them out.

And yet, Y/N was already ready to go back to bottling it up. It was a day or so later that they were let out of the infirmary, still equipped with the chalkboard and chalk. When discharged from bed, Y/N poured themself into their research. They reorganized their entire lab, only leaving alone the small section Daniel still seemed to be working in. They learned to work around his schedule, avoiding him at all costs. They weren’t ready to talk to him about it, not that they could while being forbidden to speak. Soon, his things disappeared from their lab and they reorganized that section too.

Half a week after the surgery, Laurel came into the lab, casually taking a look around it. “Hey, Sugar Pie! How are you feeling?” She leaned over, looking at the floor near a counter.

Y/N smiled at her. “Throat’s still sore but work is keeping my mind off it.”

Laurel nodded after reading it. “That’s understandable. Don’t forget to take time to rest, you’re still recovering from a major surgery and I need you back in top form if you’re to be back in the field anytime soon. Besides,” she chuckled, “You’re the best behaved kid I got, I need you to help me with the Trouble Twins.”

“As expected of our Boss Man.” Y/N smiled.

“Okay, well, I just wanted to come and check in on you, so I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

A few minutes after Laurel left, Charles burst in. “Hey, dude, good to see you! You look great, how you feeling?” His words were rushed, eyes slightly panicked.

Y/N quickly wrote out, “Charlie, what’s going on??” before putting a hand on his shoulder and showing it to him.

He laughed, eyes still panicked. “So, uh, long story. Short of it is, we really need you back as soon as possible. Boss Man is gonna kill me one of these days and it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

Y/N rolled their eyes. “What’d you do now, Troublemaker?”

He laughed again. “Oh, you know, just a small prank. She’s already found it and is on the hunt for me. I saw her just leave here so I’m assuming it’s safe for a few hours, can I stay?”

Y/N sighed. “So long as you don’t mess up anything, yes. Don’t expect me to lie to Boss Man, though. She comes in and asks for you, I’m pointing right at ya.”

Charles gave a mock salute and went to hide in the corner Daniel used to work it. Y/N just rolled their eyes again and went back to work, eventually pointing at him when Laurel burst in and said she knew he was there. They then had to hold back their laughter at their team’s antics, eventually kicking them out before they messed up their throat by using it too soon after the surgery.

Y/N spent two more weeks buried in their lab. Laurel would occasionally stop by to drag them away and Kenneth or Charles would bring them food or water when the men felt they’d been in there too long. Y/N appreciated the distractions their visits and antics created, hearing about their offworld missions and how they weren’t the same without Y/N. Even if their friends were just saying empty words to make them feel better, it worked. Y/N managed to get the majority of their work done during those two weeks, almost working at a fevered pace.

When Janet finally cleared them for field work and allowed them to speak again, she threatened to take them off duty permanently if they didn’t slow down. “I’ve been hearing General Hammond complain about just how many reports have been coming across his desk with your name on it lately and I’m not happy about it either,” she scolded.

Y/N smiled and coughed, getting used to using their voice again. “Sorry, I just wanted to make up for the time I stayed in the infirmary. I know it wasn’t that long, but working also kept me distracted from not being able to talk.” They took a sip of water, voice already feeling and sounding strained from lack of use.

“Even so, you need to take it easy from now on. Just because you can go back into the field doesn’t mean you need to work yourself to death. Take care of yourself. I don’t want to have to see you back here in a week’s time because you were being too stupid for your own good.”

Thanking her, Y/N nodded in acknowledgment and walked out. Now that the health check was passed, they dove even deeper into work. They tried to get as many off-world missions as possible under the presence of making up for the time they weren’t able to be with SG-13. However, almost anyone who knew them could tell it was a lackluster excuse for what they were really doing: avoiding Daniel.

Laurel found Y/N sitting with their back to a wall in the back of the mess hall, nose in a book. She smiled as she greeted them, pulling out a chair. Y/N put their book down and paid their full attention to their leader. “Hey, Boss Man, when’s the next mission?”

Laurel sighed as she sat down. “That’s actually what I’m here to talk about. You’ve been, I don’t know how to put it.” She contemplated for a moment. “‘Off’ is the best word for it, I guess. You’ve been off, lately.”

Y/N tilted their head, sticking their tongue out slightly to swipe at their bottom lip. “Off? In what way?”

“I’ve seen you avoiding SG-1.” Y/N scoffed at Laurel’s words. The major shook her head. “No, really! I”ve watched the way you duck into hallways, speed through intersections, and generally just avoid them wherever you go. It’s as if you can’t face any of them.”

Y/N hunched in on themself, making themself look as small as they felt. “It’s because I can’t. If I talk to even one of them, it’ll get back to the one I really can’t talk to.”

“What do you mean by that, Sugar Pie? Why can’t you talk to one of them?”

Y/N sighed. “I recently confessed a romantic attraction to Daniel Jackson and I’ve been avoiding his answer. If he rejects me, I don’t think I could take it after burying the feelings for so long. And, if he accepts me, I still don’t know how that would feel or what I’d do with myself. I guess, it really comes down to a fear of change.”

Laurel reached out, patting Y/N’s arm. “Either way, if I were you, I’d rather know. If you don’t want any advice, that’s fine, but I’m still going to give this piece: talk to him. The sooner, the better .Get it off your chest so you can stop wallowing in it. Don’t deny it. I’ve seen the look in your eyes while in the field, your head isn’t entirely in it. My advice will always be to confront your problems head on rather than run from them. It tends to get things done a lot faster.”

Y/N reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Laurel shrugged. “I usually am,” she giggled.

Still, it was another two weeks before Y/N stopped avoiding Daniel and his team. Despite the advice from Laurel, and the echoed advice from Kenneth and Charles, they were still afraid Daniel’s perception of them had soured after their confession. It was the main reason they’d wanted him out of the area for it, they hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes while they said it. And yet, they’d still ended up telling him, in a way. It may have been for the better, but Y/N was still coming to terms with it all.

When they did run into Daniel again, it was when they came back from a late night caffeine run to see his door open and hear people talking inside. They knew it was underhanded and rude to eavesdrop but they also felt a need to know. A small part of their mind whispered that it would be payback for Daniel eavesdropping on their confession. So, they quietly crept closer and listened from the doorway of their own lab.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked, metal creaking.

Daniel sighed. “That’s just it, Jack, I don’t know. I keep trying, but nothing seems to happen.”

“Talk to me, Danny boy, What’s going on?”

Something light fell to the table and Daniel’s voice sounded frustrated. “I honestly don't know. I’ve tried talking to them but every time, they run away before I can even get close enough to say, ‘hello’. The avoidance hurts, but what else can I do? I told them I’d give them time and yet, I”m trying to reach out. If they’re still not ready, who am I to say they need to be?”

Jack clicked his tongue and Y/N had the mental image of him shaking his head. “Still, this is affecting your work. I can see it, Daniel. Your head’s not in the missions and any research you’ve done, I haven’t heard a lick of ramblings about it since this whole thing started. When are you just going to tell them?”

“Do I even have to, at this point, Jack? Maybe they wouldn’t want me to.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that for a second! At this point, I’m ready to shove you two in an interrogation room to figure this shit out!”

“Jack, don’t. Just drop it, please? I’ll get my head back on the missions. I’ll focus more on my research. If I focus more on work, maybe I can drown out my failing romantic life. I-I’ll figure it out.” Daniel sighed. “Thanks for the advice, I appreciate it, but please just let me handle this. It’ll only get messier if you get involved.”

Jack took a few steps into the room, closer to Daniel’s desk, and said something Y/N couldn’t hear before leaving the room. Y/N ducked back into their lab, trying to make it seem like they’d just arrived if he happened to walk that way. He didn’t and they were left in the silence of their empty lab, the only noise being the humming of equipment. With most of their research already wrapped up and Daniel moved out, the lab felt even more empty than it usually did.

They put their cup down and puttered around the room for a few minutes, just straightening things up, before a knock brought their focus to the doorway. There was Daniel, looking exhausted and like he’d been up for three days straight, one hand in his pocket and the other raised to knock on the doorpost. Y/N noted the way their heart calmed at the sight of him, as if a puzzle piece had just fallen into place and all was right with the world, their anxiety lessening with just his presence.

“Hi. Uh, you busy?” Daniel asked.

Y/N shook their head, feeling heat flood their cheeks. “Nope, not at the moment. Though, I think I need to say something before you do, if that’s alright.”

He nodded, a hesitant smile gracing his features. “Yeah, that’s fine.” He entered the room and just stood against the wall, as if unsure what to do next.

Y/N bit back a smile, needing to keep the moment serious. “You can sit, if you want,” they gestured to the corner he’d previously claimed. Daniel nodded and took a seat there as Y/N naturally pulled themself onto the counter, letting their legs swing below them. “So,” they began, “I think I owe you an apology.”

Daniel shook his head. “No, you don’t, not really. You don’t owe me anything.”

Y/N held up a hand, silently asking to be allowed to finish. “I do, actually. I’ve been rude in avoiding you. You told me that, no matter what I said, you’d not change how you treated me. I was afraid that that wasn’t actually the case, that it was just something you said in a dire situation. It’s why I’ve avoided you. I was afraid your opinion of me had truly soured due to what I said. That was wrong of me. I should have trusted you. Even though I was running on emotions and preservation instincts, I should have trusted you enough and talked things through with you. I should have, at the very least, told you I needed a bit of time. Instead, I gave you the cold shoulder and avoided you. I apologize for all of that, you didn’t deserve any of it.”

Daniel stood and started pacing, as if he couldn’t sit still for a moment longer. “No, you really don’t owe me anything. I shouldn’t have tried to reach out like I did. To be honest, I’ve been trying to subtly run into you for nearly three weeks now. I know, your voice was still recovering for part of that and it was stupid when you so clearly didn’t want to talk to me. Trust me, I saw the look in your eyes when you avoided me, you didn’t even have to say a word.” he hesitated to say the next thing and Y/N stayed quiet, doing their best to give him the space he’d given them.

“It was like you feared me,” he said quietly after a while. The hurt on his face and in his voice broke Y/N’s heart. “So, I should be the one apologizing to you. It was stupid of me to not wait for you to approach me first and you deserved better than that.”

Y/N laughed, suddenly realizing just how stupid they had both been acting. “How about we call it a truce? Let’s just say we’ve both been idiots and go from there, yeah?”

Daniel laughed and hung his head, putting his hands in his front pockets but leaving his pinkies out in that strange way he often did. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Y/N picked up an empty test tube and played with it in their lap, nervousness building for what was going to come next. “So,” they paused for a moment, letting the silence drag on and their courage build, “wat that what you’d originally come here to say?”

He shook his head. “That was part of it.” He stepped closer, coming to stand in front of them. “I mainly came here to answer what you’d said in the infirmary over a month ago now.” His eyes were so clear, so determined. They drew Y/N in and held them captive.

Y/N had to remind themself to breathe. “And, what would that answer be?”

Daniel smiled and tenderly placed a hand on their cheek. He leaned in, carefully looking at Y/N and waiting for them to pull back. Instead, they put down the test tube and let their hands gravitate to his hips, their fingers sliding into his belt loops and pulling him closer. His smile grew brighter before he closed the distance between them and placed his lips on Y/N’s.

The kiss was like a spark of lightning, like a soft evening rain, like a cool breeze on a summer day. It felt like everything clicked into place, like it was the only place Y/N would ever want to be. It felt like the sun coming out after a long rain. It was perfection incarnate and they never wanted him to stop.

Y/N wasn’t sure how long they kissed, only that when they pulled away, they were both gasping for air. Their foreheads connected and they just breathed together for a moment. When he caught his breath, Daniel smiled. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a few months now.”

Y/N laughed. They let their legs swing out, ankles hooking the back of Daniel’s legs. At the same time, their arms came up to wrap around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “So have I. I’ve just been so afraid to do it.”

He hummed, hands sliding around to their back as he stepped impossibly closer to them. “And why have you been so afraid?”

Y/N let their chin rest on his shoulder, eyes slipping closed to enjoy the feeling of having him in their arms and getting to be in his arms. “Because I would never be as good to you as Sha’re was and would have been.” They sighed and, when they felt him try to pull away, held him tighter. “I’m a coward who doesn’t have the courage to say this to your face. Please, let’s just stay like this for a moment.”

He hummed again and started to gently rub their back. “It needs to be let out sometime. Now’s as good a time as any.”

“As far as I know, she was the greatest love of your life,” Y/N continued. “I mean, you left your life and an entire planet behind for her. When I first came here, people told me stories of how you’d rarely ever stop talking about her if you weren’t working on something. To me, Sha’re is legendary. Maybe that’s just how everyone portrayed her to be, maybe it’s true. Either way, part of me built her up to be the ideal woman, the perfect wife, the best partner anyone could ask for. Anyone who’d seen you two together said that it looked like you were destined for each other, no better match for either person on any planet. It built up in my head for a while.

“Finally, we started spending more time together. I saw you when you were just talking to your team, the way you interacted with them.I saw the intellectual side of you and the humorous side all at one. I got to watch you match yourself to everyone you talked to, like water fitting the shape of a container. All the while, I fell deeper for those clear blue eyes and the brilliant mind that lies behind them. Then, we shared a lab. That’s when I fell deeper. I knew I loved you for certain shortly before you brought back the cure for the Han’haki plant.”

Daniel pulled away and Y/N let him, finally looking into each other’s eyes and seeing his reaction as they said it. “I love you, Daniel, but I’m scared that I’m not what you want, that you don’t actually want me and that you’ll never speak to me again.”

His eyes didn’t turn to anger, there was no disgust in them. Only softness and joy. Daniel kissed them again, a short and sweet moment where their mind was able to go completely blank and absorb him. “I'm glad we got that out of the way,” Daniel said. “You’re right, Sha’re was and may always be, the love of my life. However, who said a person can only have one love of their life? I was surely the love of her life and I will love her until the day I die, but that doesn’t mean I”m never going to love again. I can love you just as much as I love her, and you’re allowed to love me. If you need permission, you have it.

“I want to love you. To be honest, I’ve been falling for you since the day we met. Ever since I caught a glimpse of the look in your eyes and the way they shone with the excitement of a mission, it was like I’d stepped off a ledge and was falling into deep waters. That’s why I kept calling you to my table. I wasn’t just being nice, I was being selfish. I wanted you near me, to hear you talk to and about your own team, to watch you interact with mine, to talk to you myself. I wanted to get to know you better. It’s also the main reason why I asked to share your lab specifically, and why I stayed so long.”

Y/N tilted their head. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Daniel laughed, suddenly looking sheepish. “Uh, the large group stopped using my lab a week or two after you got back from your mission. I just kept using yours and didn't tell you because I like you and wanted to spend more time with you.”

Y/N’s laughter joined his and they pulled him close again, arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders. “I thought you were just still working on that stone. I guess we’re both idiots, aren’t we?”

Daniel nodded, tilting his head to kiss their shoulder. “That we are, my darling. That we are.”

#daniel jackson/reader #daniel jackson (stargate)#fanfic #original female character #original male characters #Janet Fraiser #hanahaki disease #hanahaki #no specific season #sha're (shau'ri) mentioned #Threat of Death #they/them reader #Jack O'Neill (stargate)#Ancient Mayan Based Civilization

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