Can you please do a headcanon of making out with near??? Like a bit heated??? Luv u <3

imaginingdeathnote:

I assumed you wanted an Imagine instead of a bulletpoint hc

It was rare to have Near crawl into your lap, but you welcomed him with open arms every blue moon he did.

Today was one of those times. As soon as you sat down, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, you felt the weight of the couch shift. One leg fell to either side of your lap, his fingers tracing around your collarbones.

“I was very bored today.” He mumbled.

“Is that why I get the special treatment?”

“Hardly. I was bored because I solved thirty cold cases and finished my stack of work. It’s a celebration.”

That was something to celebrate. He would only have the night before the calls for help started to arrive once more.

Your hands met his waist, holding him on your lap with a firm hand. Near leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“What will you do with all this newfound free time?” A whimsical tone to your voice, you asked him the leading question. His soft hands rested against your chest as he lowered, netting your lips in an innocent connection.

“You, perhaps.” He was smooth when he wanted to be, capturing you in another sweet lip lock. Near turned focus to your bottom lip, using gentle suction to draw it in between his teeth, that ghosted over the sensitive flesh.

Near pressed himself against you, chest to chest in a warm embrace. Leaving his waist, you hair tangled in his hair. The softest breed between cotton and silk, you toyed with the locks, massaging his scalp. He hummed in agreement, gripping your shirt.

His dainty tongue teased your bottom lip, allowing him entrance he wasted no time. Deepening the kiss, one his his skilled hands cane to your chest, fingers toying with a nipple through your shirt. Coaxing a moan from you, you felt him smile into the kiss.

You followed his example, hands dropping from his hair to undo the buttons on his shirt. It took all your restraint not to rip the feeble fabric off his pale torso. Your hands roamed the expanse of his body, feeling each curve and muscle peaking through.

Near’s breathing had picked up and an ache had settled between your legs. When he broke away to take a breath, you spoke.

“We should probably take this upstairs.” You hush, peppering his neck and chest with open mouthed kisses.

“Why? The couch is perfectly acceptable.”