gosh just like, imagine L being somewhat sexuqlly frustrated, case pulling him down and such.
at nights you stay with him, keep him company, ramble at him (which, in turn- he listens, almost being consumed by your voice) while he works. General things.
But now, since he's nearly dying; not having time to take care of himself, too shy to ask you to help- he's just. Suffering through it. One night you seem to just coincidentally turn him on without knowing. He tries holding himself back, not excusing himself or saying anything. They way you delicately put candies in your mouth, the way your fingers glide through the sweets, picking just the right one
g o s h, mans just can anymore, finally has enough of it and just rams you into his desk
*giggles* gosh i love you, y’all know me too well 🤭
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
L loves listening to himself talk, but he loves listening to you talk even more. Your words are coated in honey, voice articulating things he’d never ever imagined. You talk about anything, everything, as long as it sparks curiosity or conflict.
L’s gone through typing thousands of sentences listening to you ramble about necklaces, history, food, shoes, video games, books, ex lovers, humanity as a whole, Poland and society. Sometimes you don’t know if he’s actually listening but when he throws a glance in your direction with an interested expression, you know he does care about what you’re saying even if he doesn’t say it too.
So you continue to come in your comfortable clothes, sit with him and practically burst with information and opinions while stealing his sweets every now and then. L likes you, you’re authentic and honest, you wear baggy t shirts and sleep shorts and smell of mint when it’s closer to bed time for you and you’ve recently brushed your teeth. And you’re consistent, every night, 7 on the dot, he hears the waddle of your padded feet slapping the stairs and the squeal of a chair’s hinges as you sit down and scoot towards him.
He likes that about you, you’re precise, but lately he finds himself conflicted. He loves your visits, loves sharing whatever edible heart-attack he has, loves your beautiful, sweet voice next to him. But he dreads the feelings that come with it. His heart races, palms sweat and vision blurs, intense bodily reactions that cause terror and confusion. He feels like he’s dying. And nobody can focus when they’re dying.
Plus, he has an erection that would be fairly obvious if his knees weren’t in the way of you line of sight. He did some research in a spare moment and discovered many things about himself, the important ones being that he’s most likely aroused and that he may have feelings for you. So, you arouse and intrigue him.
He goes through a few nights thinking that information would be enough to calm his symptoms but soon realizes it’s worse now then before because he’s actually aware of the way he looks at you and where he looks at you now.
He can’t help his eyes falling to your pretty, bouncing breasts as you descend the stairs. He can’t help his attention on your pump lips forming words he can hardly hear anymore. He can’t help the blood rushing straight to his cock when you lean out of your chair to grab a bite of his cake and your shorts lift up ever so slightly, allowing the curve of your ass to be seen from where he sits.
He considers asking for help and immediately mentally reprimands himself for even considering the great L would need help. He doesn’t have time for anything else but working and sleeping and he can’t compromise himself just because he’s feeling a little aroused. So he doesn’t do anything, and suffers the consequences.
~~~~~~~~~~~
You greet L with a smile and giddily bounce over to your designated seat next to him, grabbing a hold of the back of the chair.
“See anything different?” You ask with an excited grin.
L furrows his brow and studies you for a second but comes up empty and shakes his head.
You sigh and give him a faux frown.
“The pajamas?” You spin and he notices what you mean. Deep red strawberries litter your shorts, that seem slightly shorter than the others you wear, and your pink socks have strawberries sewn into the sides. Then you’ve finished spinning and L can see your shirt clearly, he almost goes into cardiac arrest. Directly where your nipples are, there are two small strawberries poking out on the thin fabric.
L quickly clears his throat and turns his chair back to the monitors, bringing his legs closer to his chest, “Very nice.”
You huff and plop down next to him, stealing the fork in his hand and nipping some cake, “‘Very nice?’ I thought you would think they were cute.”
L looks at you from the corner of his eye.
“They’re cute.”
You giggle and turn towards him more, using your foot as leverage to push off the table so that you’re closer to him.
“I know, right? I found them last week shopping with Misa and she said that you were gonna make fun of me but I thought you’d like ‘em so I bought ‘em.”
L thinks for a second then turns to you with a surprised expression, which for him is just a slight eyebrow raise and eye widening.
“You bought them… for me?”
You shrug like it’s no big deal.
“Yeah, thought you’d like ‘em. You’re all about strawberries anyways.”
L’s heart is racing so fast it feels like it’s going to pop out of his chest and run a marathon.
“Well.. you were right. I do like them.”
You throw a smile with teeth his way and he flatlines.
“Anyways… what’ja wanna talk about tonight? I’ve got a few ideas.”
L tries to focus on whatever document he’d been working on before you arrived but you steal his attention again as he sees you pushing your chair even closer to his.
“What are you doing?” He asks.
You make a dive for the bowl of candies next to his keyboard and he gawks at you.
You lean over the arm of the chair and smile at him innocently, “What, you can’t share? Mr. Billionaire is greedy.”
You draw out the ‘dy’ in greedy with a giggle and drop the candies back at his frown.
L shakes his head at your antics, “No, I mean what are you doing so close? Can’t you talk from over there?”
You ignore the ego pang you could take and shrug, dropping eye contact in favor of your finger nails suddenly being very interesting.
“I dunno… thought we were close enough that I could sit here.”
L recognizes your expression and sighs, looking straight ahead at his screen.
“You can. I don’t mind.” He pretends not to see the way your face lights up again and pretends a little harder not to notice the tingling feeling inside his stomach.
There’s a few moments of silence before the creaking of your chair shifting ever closer to his draws a quarter of his attention. The arm of your chair bumps his and he glances to his right to see your mischievous grin beaming up at him from where your head rests on his chair, nearly falling onto his lap.
L must be a pro at this point when it comes to ignoring his feelings but he still struggles to keep a straight face when your hands come out to trace shapes into the side of his jeans.
He can’t tell how long it’s been that you’ve been talking about meaningless things or how long you’ve been practically in his chair with the way your whole body leans onto his. Could’ve been ten minutes, twenty or an hour, L’s too enthralled by your presence to get work done at his usual pace.
You reach your hand out to the bowl of sweets and L watches you in his peripheral vision as your delicate fingers search for your favored flavor, gently brushing the others and softly plucking one up. The way your eyes seem so focused on the task, lips curling into a bottom bite as your hand pushes the candy through reddened lips.
You hum in satisfaction at the taste and L’s thoughts scatter, leaving only the sight of you on his mind. Taking quick note of how little work he’s gotten done tonight, of his aching erection rubbing against the rough confines of his pants and the way your nipples poke out just right on the shirt, barely visible under the strawberries and makes a decision he’s yet to regret. L is going to get laid.
“Y/n, stand up.” Puzzled, you do so and tug on the bottom of your shorts when they come up too high.
“I… want to do something, you may stop me at any time.” You nod and make a concerned face that fades as he stands too, cupping your face and angling it towards his.
The only sign of the anxiety he feels inside is the shaking hands the cradle your jaw with uncertainty. He meets your eyes with hesitant eye contact and sees only pure desire and trust back.
L’s lips gloss over yours, barely a whisper yet enough to make you whimper and tangle your hands in the mess of his hair. You pull his towards you with urgency, slotting your lips against his much more desperately.
You taste like raspberries and toothpaste and months of longing, L feels like he might die when your hands wander down to his chest and fist the fabric of his shirt with a muffled gasp. L knows you’ll stop him if you don’t want anything further so he takes a leap of faith and drops his hands to your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His throbbing, clothed erection brushes your thigh with a groan from you both.
You pull away, lips kissbitten and eyes glazed over with lust. L’s heart chases after you, beating like crazy inside it’s poor little cage.
“You look angelic.” His words fumble out like a broken dam but he means it, almost proud of himself when you blush and smile.
“What was that thing you wanted to do?” You change the subject with a nervous fidget of his shirt in your fists.
“You, if you’d let me.” He sounds bold and sure of himself but he’s hardly controlling himself from begging you to just kiss him like that again, even though if you did, he’d surely fall completely in love with you.
You met his eyes with a unfamiliar shyness and nod quickly.
“I’d let you..please, do.”
He allows his signature proud smirk to take his lips before he takes yours again, hands wandering down to the ruffle at the edge of your pajamas.
He tugs them down your thighs slightly and cups your ass in his big hands before breaking the kiss.
“Turn around.”
Your back faces him and he uses his leverage to bend you over his desk, his mind freezing up when he notices a dark spot on your pink panties, puffy clit poking out on the material.
He trails his fingers up towards the waistband and slowly pulls them down, a string of arousal between your pussy and panties growing thinner and finally breaking once they’re down where your shorts are.
“You’re incredibly wet.” L remarks with a finger sliding through your dripping folds, eyes catching the full body shiver you do.
“You’re incredibly attractive.” You snap back quick but there’s amusement in your tone. “Sometimes shit happens.”
He mentally rolls his eyes and simply replied by propping you up in a easier position, pushing your back into a arch and your ass high in the air.
“May I?” He asks, hoping you understand the implication by the sound of his zipper.
“You may.” You respond with a cheeky grin over your shoulder, “Such a gentleman, aren’t you?”
“Always.” He wants to say something romantic but he doesn’t know how you’ll take it.
Right as his hands clasp your hips and tug you closer to his waiting cock, he lets it slip.
“For you.”
You both know there’s implications behind that more than just him saying he’ll ask for consent but you ignore it for now. You know later, when you’re stumbling back to your room with a giddy smile and sore legs, you’ll giggle to yourself over the thought he may want you for more than just sex.
His tip angles at your entrance and he takes a breath before gently pushing in, pulling a sensual gasp from your mouth as your wetness expands around him. Curses fall easily from your lips as you shuffle your legs farther apart, feeling him bottom out completely.
You already feel your pussy ache, accommodating the stretch almost painful but wonderfully full at the same time. L, on the other hand, is also greatly feeling the size difference. He’s been holding his breath and mentally clicking through past cases to keep himself from busting a load too soon, his hands an iron grin on your poor waist.
A wet squelch sounds as he begins pulling out to thrust in again and your red cheeks flame even harder, knowing you’re definitely soaking him and yourself.
L waits for a second and slyly says, “Is that a snail in your pants or are you just excited to see me?”
You laugh loud and abruptly, nearly choking as he pushes in again through the joke. You love his sense of humor but sometimes he’s really got to read the room, still though, you feel more at ease.
L feels his cock tense and balls clench and resolves to move faster, in order to please both parties. His hips slam against yours deeply as he fucks himself into you, your slick pussy driving him halfway mad.
“F-fuck.. please! Please, L, please!” You sound like you’re crying from the desperation in your voice but from the pornographic moans leaking at a consistent rate, L knows it feels good to you.
Atleast he hopes it does, and when he realizes he wants to make it better, he angles so that with each thrust, your clit rubs against the smooth table and instantly feels the effects, your cunt squeezing infinitely harder.
He lets out a choked noise for the first time and you nearly cum right then, his broken voice groaning sounds ethereal to your ears.
“Y/n…I’m going to orgasm.” You almost chuckle at his use of vocabulary but nod hurriedly nonetheless.
“Mmmm..me too, fuck….harder, please!”
L thrusts harder at your command and gave a few final desperate ruts before letting out a string of your name connected to a deep, long sob of ‘fuck’. You clench around him and pant out his alias as you shake through your release.
He nearly falls on top of you and thankfully rolls to the side with a satiated look, slowly pulling himself out of your sore, dripping hole.
After a few beats of heavy breathing, you shoot him a tired smile and ask, “Get what you wanted?”
He looks back at you with something unidentifiable and smiles slightly too.
“For now.”
