#n.sft

Your situationship with L is built on a solid foundation of two key things; Mistrust, and stalking. So when L leaves to go outside of his own volition of course you follow him. The old-timey, absurdly expensive car he’s driven around in makes it beyond easy to do so, even on foot. All you have to do is ask literally any passerby if they've seen an old rich person car and you get pointed in the right direction.

This method leads you all the way to To-Oh University.

To-Oh is impressive enough, you suppose. It's Known for its output of lawyers and government employees as well as its high bar to be accepted, but you just don’t see what could be in it for L.

You doubt any student, or professor for that matter, could hold the frogs picky attention so what reason could he possibly have to be here?

The only thing L cares about is catching Kira, and Kira is Light Yagami so…

Looking around at the well dressed flock of teenagers filtering in through the front of the building you rapidly sort through and mentally discard anybody with irrelevant traits; Height, build, gender, hair color-

“The entrance exam is starting in ten minutes, so you’d better hurry up!”

He’s probably already inside-

“It’s fine. I planned to get here three minutes before the test. I hate waiting. I’m here too early.”

It’s going to feel so fucking good watching the light, heh, leave his eyes.

Top button comes undone. Skirt is rolled up a notch. You fall in step with him, a calculated, admiring smile gracing your features, “You don’t like to waste time either, huh?”

If elevator eyes were enough to make your hit list you’d be dragging Kira off the path this very moment to turn this animal into goddamn meat...

But then L would have the book thrown at you, and you can be patient.

Theoretically.

You haven’t tried before but other people do it all the time so it’s probably easy.

“There was less foot traffic than I anticipated.” Kira's eyes flick past you and up and you follow his gaze, seeing nothing but feeling your skin prickle with tension for a reason you can't discern.

Unconsciously you take a step closer to Kira, and want to stomp his foot when he smirks. Instead you give him a close lipped smile, cheeky, and nudge his arm with an elbow. “So, what are you going to study, Mr. Impatient?”

“Criminal Law. My father is the Chief of the NPA,” Name-dropping son of a self-righteous old bast-, “I suppose stopping criminals is a legacy for me.” He smiles at you in a way you know is supposed to be disarming, his voice sounding sheepish in a way that’s so fake you have to bring a hand up to your mouth to cover a scowl.

Forcing a giggle you play off the gesture as shyness, “Wow… I knew a lot of important people come from To-Oh but I didn’t realize I’d be meeting any so soon.” You look up at him from under your lashes, a practiced move that’s melted many predators before him and undoubtedly will do the same for many after, “Maybe we’ll be in the same class. It’d be nice to have a friend right off the bat, don’t you think?”

The incredulity in Kira’s expression is almost- Scratch that, is extremely insulting as he asks you, a hint of humor in his voice, “You’re here for the criminal law program?”

If I were a self obsessed man child with a god complex that’s gotten murderous what would I want to hear?

“Sure am!” You make sure your big fake smile reaches your voice, pretending not to notice his condescending tone, “I’m going to become a prosecutor and work my way up to a position as a judge. I’m going to become someone who actually sees to it that criminals get what they deserve. I-” You let out a squeak and wave your hands frantically, adopting an embarrassed affectation as you rapidly speak, “I didn’t mean to ramble! Please forget I said that…”

“Forget it? Why?”

“Well… A lot of people think it’s a bit excessive… Y’know, wanting to see people punished?” You make a point to wilt like the helpless flower he’s labeling you as in his itty bitty mind.

“Well I think it’s admirable.” No shit. “You've seen a problem with society and you’re actually doing something to better not only yourself but the whole world. Or- The whole of Japan I should say.” He rubs the back of his neck at what he likely sees as a minor slip.

And what you see as the blatant projection you were fishing for.

“Exactly!” You need to seem flustered. L’s wide eyes as he leans back and pants out ragged breaths, cum cooling on his skin- That’ll do it. “Maybe we have more in common than our dislike of waiting?”

Kirasmiles, and the calculating way it comes across makes you feel a little nauseated, “It would seem so.”

You’re already at the room the exam is going to take place in and to seal your progress on this target you bump the back of your hand against his, quickly linking his pinky with your own, “I’ll see you at the opening ceremony, Mr. Impatient.” Before all but fluttering away, taking a seat near the back, off to the side.

The security here is kinda shit, you not. You didn’t even have to actually sign up.

The seat you chose is perfect for your needs. You can see L, seeing Kira.

Papers are passed around and the proctor calls for the applicants to start, and with that permission you begin to doodle absentmindedly, filling the page with eyeballs and hands and random objects you can see around the room. It’s around the same time that Kira turns around that you recognize something in the back of L’s posture and lean to the side to see-

L, if you don’t get your nasty ass goddamn grippers off the fucking desk-

Your expression twists in disgust as you stare in open mouthed horror before making eye contact with Kira.

You point at the backs of L’s head and mouth, “Life sentence.”

Kira whips back around to face the front of the classroom so fast you’re surprised you can’t hear his neck crack.

—

You leave before the exam is called, not wanting to confront, or more accurately be confronted by, L in public. Slowing to a stop you look into a store window…

—-

For the betterment of humanity you buy a pack of mens socks.

—

It’s agony waiting for the entrance ceremony, languishing on a plush couch and being brought an endless parade of sweets by an attentive butler, all the while counting down the days until you’ll be close to your target again. But you persevere, your patience staggering, a testament to your unparalleled maturity and poise.

You ball up the paper remnants of a sugar packet and try to toss it into Yagami-san’s tea from across the room.

It plonks off the back of his head and he turns around, shouting, “Will you stop that?!”

“I’ll run out of wrappers eventually if that’s what you’re asking.”

L clears his throat to hide a laugh.

—

“Would you care to join me, M.” You pout, he knows your name but has refused to say it since giving you the moniker, ‘for your safety.’

Jerk.

“Join you?”

“Watari will be driving me to To-Oh university’s entrance ceremony. If you wish to arrive on time it may behoove you to arrive in the car, rather than behind it.”

“... You’re no fun.”

Watari opens the back door for you.

—

You make a point to have Watari drop you off two blocks away from To-Oh, not wanting to be seen arriving with L, and thank the man profusely. This time you don’t sit far in the back, you sit exactly one seat behind L and wait patiently. You're unsurprised when Kira takes the seat next to him, front and center like the Special Boy he is.

You don’t actually pay any attention to the ceremony, utterly indifferent until Kira and someone called Ryuga are called to the stage to give a speech, and Kira and L stand up.

Your frog is a fucking moron, too stupid to know when to play dumb. If he doesn’t do this right he’ll end up on Kira’s radar.

Without thinking about it you start biting your thumbnail, repeatedly nibbling at the very end.

The speech is as blandly inspirational as any other, although you can’t help but want to laugh at both the way L holds his notes and the tone he reads them with. If he weren’t intentionally putting himself in so much danger you’d be ecstatic, laughing your arse off at the show he’s putting on.

But he’s standing next to Kira who’s looking at him like something sticky attached to the bottom of his shoe, like he's subtle, so you bite your nail harder instead.

When the two of them are coming back to their seats you can see L talking to the back of Kira’s head and you want to pick up their vacated folding chairs and throw them.

You bite through the nail. And since you can’t very well spit in public, you swallow. Ew.

Exit strategies, character analysis, mental manipulations, and desperate acts of violence all flit through your mind as you try to think of a way to undo whatever damage L is undoubtedly doing all without knowing the details and you hate this frog, you hate this frog, you hate this frog-

“I want to tell you, I’m L.”

God damn it!

The pause that follows is tense and you hold your breath as you wait to hear what happens next.

“If you are who you say you are, then you have nothing but my respect and admiration.”

Snort.

The sound makes both Kira and L turn around and you quickly pull your phone out, looking at the screen and pretending to have read a text.

L waggles his fingers at you in greeting before continuing his conversation with Kira, as if he’d never been interrupted.

You tune them out, already knowing what needs to be done, everything else is just fat to be trimmed.

You need to kill Kira before he can kill L.

Only you get to kill L.

—

You make a point to stay out of sight when L leaves with Watari, waiting for them to round the corner before you half jog to catch up with Kira.

“Hey! Yagami-kun!” The grin you direct his way is stunning, you know because you’ve practiced it enough times in the mirror, and you hug his arm when you reach him, “I knew for sure you’d get in but I didn’t realize you were, like, an actual genius!”

Kira smiles, brown eyes looking blood red to you as you give his arm a light squeeze before letting go, skin crawling. “I’m glad you had so much confidence in me. Although, I can’t accept being called a genius when I only tied for first place.”

You huff and scrunch up your nose a bit, “I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’ve got more emotional and social intelligence than the weird guy and add it on top. You’re definitely better.” Looking side to side, you make a show of checking that no one is watching before leaning in close to his ear and whispering, “Did you see him put his toes on the desk?”

Kira laughs. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“So, which way are you headed?” You’re at the gates now, intentionally standing slightly too close to the murderous ego maniac.

He points a thumb over his shoulder to the left, “I’m taking the train that way to head home.”

“Me too!" A lie. "Well actually it’s my bus route, but it’s in the same direction. Wanna walk together for a bit?”

“That works for me.”

—

You keep up a string of conversation with the mass murderer, bubbly and babbling as you follow him towards the train station. There’s a bus station next to a cafe about three blocks from the metro, and you know from experience that particular cafe has metal cutlery. So convenient for you, especially since your bags are checked any time you enter or leave HQ.

When you reach the bus station you smile at Kira and tug his sleeve to get him to stop with you, “This is me. Thanks for walking with me.” He smiles back and pats your hand.

“We could make a habit of it, since we’ll be classmates.”

“That sounds great! I’m looking forward to it.” L panting a broken moan into your shoulder as he angles his hips to get just a little deeper- there’s the blush. “I’ll see you in class?”

“Definitely.” He smiles one last time in that way you know he intends to be charming before turning to leave.

The moment Kira rounds the corner you set a brisk pace back the way you came from, passing close by the outdoor dining of the cafe and swiping a cloth napkin from one table and use it to grab a knife from the next. It really is a nice cafe.

You turn to the alley between buildings and make your way through, parallel to the route you know Kira will need to take to reach the station. However as soon as you make it out of the mouth of the alley on the other side and turn to intercept Kira a hand covers your mouth and you are dragged back into it, shoved against the nearest wall, stucco unfortunately, leaving scratches on your cheek.

A second hand grabs your wrist where you’re already maneuvering your knife to stab him and pinches at it oddly, causing your hand to spasm and the cutlery to drop. You thrash against the grip and growl, biting hard into the flesh this scum had the nerve to put so close to your teeth and-

“I’m glad you had the foresight to put something between you and the would-be murder weapon.”

Oh for the love of-

You reach up and tap the back of his hand two times, and L lets go.

“L. What. The. Fuck?”

“I could ask you the same thing... Save for the L. And I’d likely use more robust vocabulary-“

“Save it frog.” You twist your neck so you can look at him, and he blinks in shock. “I wouldn’t be doing this on such short notice if you hadn’t told Kira who you are to his goddamn face.”

“I have taken all the necessary precautions before making contact, and you shouldn't be doing this,” he kicks the knife further down the alley, “At all.”

He… He actually sounds angry.

The pout you can feel forcing its way onto your face as your lip threatens to jut out is humiliating.

“You’re in danger.” It isn’t supposed to come out as whiny as it sounds.

“Yes.”

Don’t cry.

Don’t cry.

Don’t you fucking-

Long, thin fingers come up and swipe gently beneath your eyes, one at a time, feeling wetness there.

“You are upset by the thought of me dying.” There’s a hint of something to his words, whether it’s the tone or inflection you can’t decide, that makes you think of one word. One word spoken softly while you knelt at his feet-

“Kira doesn’t get to have you.” The words are bitten out, the growl of anger, of possessiveness, undercut by the watery waver to your voice.

You hadn’t realized he was still holding your wrist until he tightens his grip, squeezing down until it aches.

“Nor will he have you.”

The ‘you’re mine’ is unspoken, on both your parts.

You can hear the dull hum of an engine and tires on pavement and turn to see Watari pulling the car up. When L leads you by your wrist into the back of it, grip turning gentle, you don’t protest.

“Headquarters, Watari.” Is all L says before pressing a button that rolls up the car's divider. He buckles you in like some kind of child but doesn’t bother doing the same for himself like… Some other kind of child.

The silence between you is thick, highlighted by every creak of the leather seats as you shift uncomfortably look out the dark tint of the windows at each street you pass, pretending you can’t see L’s reflection just as clearly as the people and buildings outside. But you can, and you focus on it, tracing his features, expressionless to most, and finding very little to read into. It’s upsetting. You’re normally much better at this, and it strikes you that you may very well only be able to read him the way you do because he lets you. Something achy in your chest twists at the thought.

“I had thought the terms of our agreement were clear, but it seems I may have left out a crucial detail.”

His eyes lock on yours in the reflection and it makes you feel embarrassed to think about how obvious you are to him, especially contrasted with how opaque he is to you.

“Until my heart stops beating, you will not under any circumstances take another life.”

“I hate you.”

His mouth falls open and with it his expression. Shock?

“… Truly?”

You’ve never heard him sound small before.

Fuck.

The click of your seat belt buckle breaks the silence as you quickly shift your way over to him, shoving at his knees until there's enough space for you to seat yourself in his lap, which you do. “No.”

The honesty is uncomfortable for you and you suspect it’s equally as uncomfortable for him so you add on, “And you should be able to tell that since you’re such a master detective.” Mockery. Familiar territory.

He braces his feet against the back of Watari’s seat and slouches further, bringing his knees back up to support you more and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close until your face is pressed into his neck.

“I do not hate you either.” He speaks it into your hair, and you feel a kiss pressed against the side of your head, so you respond with a kiss of your own on the only spot you can reach. His neck.

L shudders beneath you, then lets out a shaky breath, arms tightening their hold like he thinks you have somewhere else to be before ducking to murmur against your ear, “The divider is not nearly as soundproof as I would prefer so I will have to whisper, but I wish to make my intentions entirely clear...”

You nod against his neck to indicate that you heard him and try to turn to kiss his jaw but he reaches up with one of his hands and grabs your hair in a tight grip, holding you still.

“When we return to head quarters, I am going to fuck you.”

The breath you take in through your nose in your surprise is louder than the words he spoke. There’s a heat in your cheeks that you can feel spreading down your chest and lower as you inhale shakily, before taking a calculated risk and rolling your hips against his as you murmur, “How?”

His hand briefly tightens in your hair and you can feel your pussy getting wet, “How am I going to fuck you?”

You nod, and he exhales slowly, you inhaling in time with him, your chests moving together.

“I think I would like to fuck you like this,” the hard press of his interested cock is made obvious as his hips roll up against yours, denim jeans against cotton panties and you bite your lip to stifle any verbal reaction, “You will be on top but I will be holding you still. I’ll take my time I think, maybe have you ride my thigh first so I can observe the pace you’d like me to set.”

You’re hips are rocking back in forth in small little ruts now, panties clinging to your needy cunt with your body's reaction to his voice and the press of his cock, “Please-“

“Of course I won’t fuck you how you’d like me to.”

Pardon?

“You’ve been bad,” Holy fucking shit.

L’s hand tightens in your hair as he pulls your head back to meet your eyes, his own heavily lidded as he murmurs, his lips nearly brushing your own. “I’m going to fuck you slowly. I’m going to teach you patience.”

“You’re a sadist.” You speak solely to feel your lips brushing against his.

“I’ve been called worse things. Less accurate things as well.”

The car rolls to a very sudden stop and if it weren’t for L’s arms around you and his legs behind you, you would have fallen in between the front and back seats, folded in half like a humiliated napkin.

When Watari opens the door for L, you’re back in your own seat, resenting L’s composure as you shake like a leaf, wondering how visibly fucked out you look for someone who hasn’t even been properly touched yet. You’d read Watari’s expression to find out if you could bring yourself to meet the man's eyes. He holds out a hand to help you out of the car and you thank him quietly before trailing behind L like some kind of stray cat he’s fed.

The elevator ride is excruciatingly long to you, even though it can’t have been more than thirty seconds and as soon as you make it into the hotel room the task force calls headquarters you and L head directly for the door to the bedroom, not acknowledging the presence of the others. You try very hard not to think about how embarrassing it’s going to be to face them later.

L places his hand on your lower back as he walks beside you, pressing you forwards until you’re in the room, looking at meticulously made sheets, and you know that this is going to be the first time since L stationed himself here that he lies in that bed, the sheets likely immaculate not due to Watari or one of the hotel’s cleaning staff coming in and making the bed, but entirely because of disuse.

You can hear him kick the door shut behind you and the hand on your back slides down past your skirt, to bare thighs, fingers dragging upwards, rucking up the fabric until he reaches the top of your panties and presses beneath, hand grabbing and pulling at soft flesh before making his way down once more, fingers cupping you as they glide forwards between your legs to press into your wet cunt.

The pressure you feel as he fills you, starts to roll his wrist against your backside, as he repeatedly rocks his slender hand against you. Starting with two fingers stings a little, but it’s a good sort of sting so you lets your hips rock back against him, trying to pull him in further, the sound of your wetness around his fingers loud in the quiet of the room.

His free arm wraps around you and pulls you in close to him, standing at the entrance of the room and holding you like he needs a hug all while fucking his fingers into your cunt, drawing vulgar sounds from between your legs and between your teeth. When his lips press against your ears your cunt clenches down around him, warm and hot and he's gotten you so fucking wet even before he starts to speak again.

And then he does. “If I could keep you like this I would. If Kira would simply spontaneously drop dead and save us the luxury of having to catch him I would steal you away with me back home. I would keep you as the most satisfying reward I have ever received for solving a case.” L’s lips trail down your neck and you let out a sound that's painfully close to a sob as he draws his fingers from your cunt and from your panties before walking you forwards towards the bed, turning when he reaches it and sitting you in his lap, facing the closed door.

One of his thighs is pressed between your own and his arms settle around your shoulders in a lazy hug as he nuzzles his nose against the side of your cheek, “We can get started once you've cum." He speaks in such a matter of fact way, keeping his voice light and unbothered, even though you’d already felt the hard press of his cock behind you.

You want to be a brat about it, to talk back and throw a fit, to deny him the satisfaction of taking the lead and to ride him till he’s shooting blanks and begging you to give him a break.

Or more accurately, you want to want that.

The press of his denim clad thigh against your needy aching clit, through your drenched panties, slick with cum, makes your head feel floaty, and you move with the feeling, leaning forwards and bracing both hands above his knee before your start to slowly roll your hips back and forwards, humping yourself against him and letting out little breathy noises from between parted lips.

One of L’s thumbs starts to brush gently back and forth against your shoulder and this time you do let out a sob, the sound turning into a whine as L presses the ball of his foot down on the floor, slowly rocking his leg up against your pussy.

His lips brush against the side of his neck as he murmurs, “You’re doing so well. Doing so well for me.” His breath is coming out heavier against your neck and if you could focus on anything other than the slow pulsing of warmth and pressure and pleasure against your cunt you’d feel pride in that fact, but all you can do is what you’re told.

So you ride his thigh, shuddering out a gasp as one of your hands trails down his towards yourself, fingertips tracing against the wet spot forming on his jeans. Your mouth hangs open wider as you let out a soft moan in between pants for breath that don't seem to do anything at all.

That’s all me.

“Does it feel nice?” There’s a hum in L’s voice, he sounds curious as he leans forwards, hooking his chin over your shoulder to look down at where you’re getting yourself off against him and you nod. You can feel his smile against your neck “I’m glad.”

You stay like that for a while, L holding you softly, and you grinding slowly against him, your hips slowly picking up pace until the heat inside of you builds, and builds, and builds, and-

You cum.

“Very good.” His voice sounds far away to you, far away from where you’re floating and you let out another sob, hands reaching up desperately to cling to his arms.

Why is he so far away?

The sound is muddled and murmured and it takes you a while to drift back into the hotel room, into yourself, into L’s arms and when you do you find yourself lying on his chest further up the bed, still straddling him, but now faced towards him instead of away.

“There you are.” He’s back. Or maybe you are?

When his hand comes up to brush away tears you hadn’t noticed on your cheeks you lean into the touch, turning slightly to press a kiss against the palm of his hand, and taste salt.

“Would you like to stop now? That looked like it was a lot for you.”

Immediately, you open your mouth to say yes but the word doesn’t come out. Why not?

You’re still a little floaty as you try to figure out what you’re feeling, to find the words to articulate and pinpoint what exactly you want and it takes a few moments, L waiting patiently all the while.

“No. Want you.”

L nods at that, a small smile replacing a look you realize was one of concern, and the hand on your cheek trails down until he can reach your shirt, stripping you of it quickly. Your skirt is next, and then your undergarments, and you expect him to stare at your body, more exposed to his gaze than it's ever been before, but it’s your face he looks at. He studies.

“If this becomes too much for you, if you start to go away again, promise you will tell me.”

You look at him beneath you, you’re still shaking a little, fully undressed, and he’s fully clothed. The only sign of what you’d been doing so far is the surprisingly large wet patch you’d left on his jeans.

“Promise.” You respond. Reaching out and grabbing one of his hands to lock a pinky with yours.

When you start to let go of his hand he snatches it back, intertwining your pinkies once more and holding them together like that, his free hand coming up to your face, drawing you in far enough that he can kiss you.

Earl Grey with too much sugar, chocolate and whipped cream, strawberries. He tastes like dessert and you sigh with contentment as his lips press against your own. They’re thin and a little dry but the soft press of them against yours warms your bare skin against the chill of the room and you bring your own free hand to his chest, only to inhale sharply in surprise at what you feel.

His heart is racing. Somehow it's never occurred to you that was something that could happen to him.

You press more heavily into the kiss, lips parting as you lick against his own, and let out a pleased him as his tongue meets yours. The kiss stays soft for a while but inevitably grows more heated.

Dragging your hand down his stomach you reach the button of his jeans and stop, only continuing when you feel his pinky squeezing your own, then flick the button open and drag the zipper down.

 His cock feels good in your hand, soft skin slick with pre-cum and warm to the touch, but it feels even better when you raise your hips up far enough that you can position the head of his cock against your entrance and then slowly push down against him, sinking into the full feeling of his cock pressing into you, until you’re once again sat in his lap.

The only sounds in the room are the quiet creaking of the bed frame and the slow wet glide of your cunt around him as you roll your hips down against him and he rocks his hips up into you, and the smack of your lips parting as you catch your breath before coming back together again, tongues teasing each others mouths.

You aren’t sure how long the two of you stay like this, moving and breathing with each other, but it’s as slow as he said it would be.

You wouldn’t call what the two of you are doing fucking, though.

You don’t have the courage to call it what it is.

When L cums, he says your name. Not M. Not any other alias you’d used before. He says your name. Whispers it into your mouth and you breathe the word in from his. Tears fall from your eyes at the intensity of it all and you cum with him, pussy wrapped around his cock in a wet plush press, like a kiss.

You feel sticky with the way you cling to L, all tears and sweat and spit, as you tremble in his arms, cunt continuing to twitch around his softening cock as the last of your orgasm washes over you and fades away. L holds you through the whole thing, his own arms shaking and his breath as quick as yours as he comes down alongside you and it’s quiet for a while.

It takes a few long moments for you to fully come back to yourself, noticing an orange glow starting to filter through the sheer curtains of the hotel's bedroom windows and realizing that the sun must be setting.

L looks more alive like this, the warmth of the light of golden hour bringing a healthy glow to his otherwise corpse-like pallor and you find yourself just staring at him, taking the sight in as his breathing evens out to a healthier pace, dark eyes fluttering open to land on yours, gazing back.

Under his attention you expect to feel studied like an insect, or dissected like a frog, but all you feel now is all you felt when…

‘Hagoromo.’

Before you can really think the words through You hear yourself, in a voice soft enough to fit the silence the two of you soak in, “Until your heart no longer beats?”

“Yes.”

And it’s clear to you why you’re here. What your purpose is.

You’re here so that even if L loses, Kira doesn’t get to win.

“Okay.”

sorry in advance but like. PG is a PRIME candidate for the classic “let’s put that mouth of yours to better use” line. shut him up when he starts rambling in bed. tbh i think he’d really like giving oral. leave him breathless / shove his head down & choke him on it?? guaranteed to fluster & excite him

in general i think he’s kind of passive / happy to go with the flow. he appreciates being told what to do & what his partner wants from him, but isn’t fantastic at communicating his own wants. really likes praise. considers himself capable of being a switch when it comes to dom/sub vibes but in reality he’s just not very good at being dominant.

L has been keeping secrets from you and he doesn’t even have the manners to hide it.

The moment you turn the door handle to the current hotel room the task force is calling headquarters you can hear him say, “Cut the audio and visuals.” And by the time you’re inside the monitors are off and the task force is avoiding eye contact.

So it’s something bad.

Matsuda in particular looks sick to his stomach and the one time you manage to catch his eye he looks close to tears and fully turns around to face away from you.

So it’s something bad involving a woman.

They haven’t mentioned Misa in the past three days.

You don’t doubt L would keep you out of the investigation if he felt the need to do something you wouldn’t approve of,  and you have even less doubt that asking him directly would prove fruitless. So rather than confront L, you stalk Watari.

Stalk may be a strong word for it actually. You spent an hour before sunrise waiting outside the hotel for the man to emerge and when he did you told him, “I’m coming with you.” And one forty-five minute drive later you were entering a high security facility, passing rows and rows of inmates and noting how the cells are less and less populated the further in you go.

So they’ve caught the second Kira, Misa, and for some reason L doesn’t want you to know that. It’s several more minutes of walking, passing through high security doors and clearance checks before Watari gestures for you to enter a cell at the very end of the hall and-

What the sweet french fried fuck.

Misa Amane is strapped to some kind of vertical gurney, arms restrained not only by leather straps that are more reminiscent of a bondage harness than any sort of medical restraint, but by some kind of straight jacket dress that’s been ripped off barely a third of the way down her thighs. There’s a metal blindfold holding her head up and a wave of nausea rolls through you at the sight of her little idol brand pigtails poking out from the top of it.

Across from her is a camera on a tripod.

You kick it over, the clatter loud in the overly large empty room with its metal walls and she flinches.

“Kill me.” Misa’s voice is small at first, then desperate as she begs, “I can’t take it anymore, please just kill me!”

“Oh someone’s gonna die for this honey, but it sure as shit isn’t you.”

It’s been a while since you’ve felt this exact feeling. This wave of heat that rushes from your ears down into your chest, only to be washed away by the cold that always follows. Your hands go from shaking with rage to perfectly still. A provoked animal becoming a predator lying in wait.

“What? Who are you? You aren’t the man from before.”

The sound of the camera being crushed underneath the sole of your shoe as you stomp out the lens is soothing to you, plastic and glass twisting and fracturing until it’s unrecognizable.

Watari watches on impassively.

You pick up the tripod and swing it like a bat, at the only other ‘furniture’ in the room, a metal cart with wheels covered in tools and ‘medication’ you have no doubt this girl was subjected too and the sound of the glass of the bottles shattering and the contents scattering on the floor soothes enough of your wrath that you can find your voice again.

“No, I’m not. You can call me M. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“M-“

“Shut up.” You bite out, cutting Watari off. “You know who I am, Watari.” You can’t find yourself giving a damn if that’s his real name or not, even in the second Kira’s presence, “You know what I do. So you know exactly the lengths I am willing to go to when I say that I am going to release Ms. Amane.”

Heading over to the discarded contents of the torture cart you pick up a scalpel before going to Misa, and starting to slice through one of the leather straps, being careful to insert the blade sideways, then twisting it to face you before drawing it down.

“He knows exactly who you are? Who are you? Why are you helping me?”

“I’m a murderer.” You wouldn’t state it so bluntly if you didn’t know she was one too. “I kill perverts and predators, anyone who preys on those they see as defenseless really.”

You cut through another of the straps.

“This is some kind of trick isn’t it, you’re just lying because you think I’ll tell you something if-“

“I don’t give a shit what you do or don’t say Amane.” Another strap is severed. “My being here is quite simple. Kira stole my kills,” Stole my denial, “So I am going to kill him.”

“No!” You have to quickly jerk the scalpel away as Misa begins to thrash her head, “I won’t let you kill Kira! Kira’s a hero! He killed the people who killed my parents!” With a sigh you work on the straps near her hips while she rants, “Over and over the court did nothing to punish the man who took my family from me! I was just a kid and he killed them in front of me! He-“ Tears escape from beneath her mask as she sobs and the sound tears into your heart, “ He killed them and then the courts- They just pushed the case back year after year and then-”

…Wait a goddamn minute.

“He was acquitted.”

“He- How did you-”

“Was the name of the man Satsujin Namae?”

“Yes! But how-“

“Motherfucker!” The rush of hot rage floods your system again and this time it doesn’t cool down as you spin and hurl the scalpel across the room, dissatisfied by the way it pings ineffectually off of the metal of the wall. A laugh tears it’s way from your chest at the sight and you double over, the sound horrific and strained even to your own ears as you all but cackle, “Of course he hasn’t just stolen my kills he’s stolen my fucking credit too!”

You laugh again, tears nearly falling from your eyes with the force of it, before you scream, “Fucker!”

“Your- Your kill?! How dare you! Kira is the one who saved me! Kira is the one who brought him to justice, he-“

“Had a heart attack because I injected him with enough liquid potassium chloride to kill a horse. An overdose causes heart spasms and in a toxicology report it just looks like the muscle tissue released potassium into the bloodstream since it does that when damaged anyway.”

You sure are cutting her off a lot. Oh well, you’ve never been accused of having good manners. Only murder.

“…You killed Namae?”

“I’ve killed a lot more people than just him.” Your words come out almost melancholic as you fetch the discarded scalpel, smiling slightly at the blunted tip, then return to slicing off her restraints.

It’s quiet for a while, Misa processing, you freeing her, and Watari likely reporting everything to L via text. You’ll either deal with or damn the consequences later.

“So, If I was the second Kira… Then Kira lied to me. About my parents, I mean.”

You shrug, unbuckling her ankles, “Maybe. He’s killed several thousand people at this point, he might’ve just assumed Namae was one of them.”

The last thing to come off is the blindfold and you smile at Misa warmly. This is the Kira that only needs a face to kill, but it’s also the Kira who devoted her life to the person who killed her parents. “I’m gonna get you out of here now, okay?”

She’s looking above your head at first, then her watery eyes drift back to your face and she lets out a sob, all but flinging herself into your arms on unsteady legs as you catch her, arms wrapped tight around her waist, “I’ve got you Amane, you’re safe now. It’s going to be alright.” One hand comes up to pet her greasy hair and you cringe slightly at the feeling but keep up the motion, “The people who hurt you will never hurt you like this again. Or anyone else for that matter.”

Another sob is choked out into your shoulder and you aren’t surprised when her legs give out from under her. Thankfully she’s tiny enough that you can lift her up, scooping her into your arms in a bridal carry as you turn to face Watari, all the while stroking a thumb soothingly across one of her shoulders, “Bring the car around so we can retrieve her things and bring them to my hotel.” You aren’t stupid enough to leave the girl unsurveilled but she doesn’t need to know that.

Watari gives a half bow of his head and the three of you leave the facility. Misa’s whispered gratitude never once stops, until she loses consciousness in your lap in the car, having sobbed herself past the point of exhaustion.

---

“Was Satsujin Namae one of yours? Truly?” L is standing behind you, looking over your shoulder at the security feed of the Yagami duo’s cells, watching Light sleep and Yagami-san stare off into space, while you lounge in L’s usual seat.

“He was. Didn’t premeditate it though, I just recognized him and happened to have one of my little backup plans in my bag.”

“… I wasn’t aware of that one.”

You let out a little huff of amusement, turning to peer over your shoulder with a cheeky smile, the look turning genuine at his expression of near befuddlement, “If you give me a list of the ones you know I can give you a number for how many you missed.”

You don’t expect what happens next, but L blushes. Very suddenly, nearly as much as the last time the two of you…

Interesting.

“Did you plan for me to find her?”

“I had accounted for the possibility.”

“But was it the plan?”

The blush reaches his ears.

---

“M!” Misa hugs your arm, “Let me paint your nails!”

She’s a sweetie, even if she does tend to cling.

---

“M!” Misa jumps up and down on her knees in your bed, “Let’s have a slumber party!”

You tense up then smile and nod, “Sure, Misa.” listening to L’s footsteps retreat behind you, your… Plans for the night are now canceled.

---

“M!” Misa’s arms wrap around your shoulders from behind, “You could totally be a model! Do you wanna come to a shoot with me?”

You choke on your toothpaste and drop your brush on the bathroom floor in your surprise, “Misa, I’m not even wearing pants!”

“You can borrow one of my skirts!”

---

L lets out an 'oof' in surprise as you unceremoniously climb into his lap, hand going to his throat as you press two fingers to his pulse point and count under your breath.

“Can I help you with something, M?”

“Just checking.”

“My pulse?”

“Yup.”

“I see.”

You let your hand wrap around to the back of his neck as you pull yourself in close for a cuddle.

“…And Miss Amane is alive?”

“Yup.”

“That’s good.”

You snort.

---

Socked feet skid on the floor as you slide your way across the room, arms windmilling as you stumble to a stop, latching onto the back of L’s chair. “Misa and Matsuda are on set today!”

“Yes, they are-“

You grab the back of L’s shirt like you’re scruffing a kitten and drag him out of the room’s lounge and into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind you with a slam.

“You’re eager, it seems.”

“Something like that.” There’s an edge to your smile that you can feel, that you know L notices when he slowly starts taking steps backwards. “I’ve been waiting weeks for this. What was it you said before?”

He bumps into the edge of the bed, falling backwards but catching himself with his forearms.

“Oh yeah!” You drag the words out as you make your way over to him, shoving your knee between his to push his legs open as you crawl over him. “You’ve been bad.”

L moves to sit up but you place a hand on his collar bone, fingers at the base of his neck, and push your full weight down, flattening him to the bed and drawing out a sharp gasp from between his parted lips.

“What am I, L?”

“A killer.” No hesitation. Rude, but fair.

“And who do I kill?” He tenses at this. As if you would try to kill him in a room adjacent to a bunch of cops. The door isn’t even locked for goodness’ sake.

“Perverts.”

“I kill perverts.” You parrot back, nodding your head and smiling at him encouragingly, free hand coming up to pat his head like a well behaved dog. “But we made a promise, L. I’m not going to kill anybody so long as your heart continues to beat.” As you say this your hand drags down the front of his chest, nails digging in and scratching through his shirt, pleased by the flutter you feel beneath the tips of your fingers, “But there are other ways to punish somebody.”

The man doesn’t even wear socks so you knew better than to expect a belt.

That’s why you’ve been wearing one with every single outfit since you freed Misa.

You brush your palm over the length of him through his jeans before tracing up your own body to your waist, unbuckling the belt you’ve cinched your dress with and slowly pulling the leather free, dragging it out just to hear the soft sound of it whispering against fabric. It pleases you to see the rise and fall of L’s chest as he takes sharper breaths than before. His eyes are locked on your belt and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips when it finally falls free.

“Wrists next to your head, palms up.” The backs of L’s fingers skim against the sides of your thighs before he moves his hands up as he’s told, obeying your order and you smile at him, leaning forwards until your body is pressed against him, allowing him the privilege of feeling every curve, “Good boy.”

His hips jerk up.

You bring the belt up, drawing it down behind his head, then up and over his wrists, looping back around until the buckle and the length of it can meet at the front, restraining his wrists and covering his eyes as you pull it taut. As the leather cinches around him and tightens you enjoy the feeling of him shuddering beneath you, feeling the hard press of his interested cock against your lower belly.

“I’ve always been someone who likes the idea of karmic balance. The thought that what goes around, comes around.”

With that you climb off of him, smirking as he grunts and rolls his hips up, chasing the feeling of you.

You don’t waste time divesting him of and discarding his trousers and the boxers he wears beneath, tossing them to the side without care before climbing back on top of him and straddling his thighs. With a smile you pull the front of his shirt up over his abdomen, admiring him as he’s revealed to you.

He’s noticeably lean, not svelte like a dancer or lithe like an athlete, but gaunt, like a man intermittently starved. Bony and angular with skin so pale it looks ashen underneath the mid-morning light that filters in through sheer curtains, colorless save for soft pink nipples that harden under the attention of the AC. You can’t help but run your fingers across him, barely brushing his nipples then feeling the jut of his ribs, just nearly visible, tracing around his navel then trailing down to where a light dusting of black hair grows, getting thicker until it meets the thatch of hair at the base of his cock.

You suspect others might find the sight of him sickly.

Maybe you’re the sick one.

It’s still unfair how pretty it is, you note to yourself. There’s a bead of pre-cum at the tip of his cock and you pull back at the foreskin to expose more of the pretty pink head, letting out a small giggle into the quiet of the room when his cock twitches against your fingers and the pre-cum drips down, falling until it clings to your fingers. Bringing that hand up you let your dirtied fingers dip in between L’s parted lips, cooing gently to him as he licks the taste of himself off of your fingers, “Good boy.” You watch his cock twitch again and lean to press a kiss against his cheek, to appease the fuzzy feeling the sight puts in your chest.

“To truly give you what you deserve I’d have to ask you questions and abuse your poor pretty cock when you don’t give me the answer I want… But there’s really nothing I want to ask you.”

“Pretty?” He sounds so breathy and you wonder if he’s been waiting for this too.

“The prettiest. ” Reaching into a pocket you pull out something you’ve been saving just for L, a small bullet vibrator, nearly the same pretty pink shade as his cock, and press it against him, the tip of it nestled just beneath his glans, then wrap the cord for the remote around and around until it’s held in place. “Can you guess what this is, detective?”

He swallows and darts his tongue out to wet his lips before responding, “I would assume a toy of some kind. Likely one that vibrates?” He sounds a bit nervous, or maybe excited? His body language certainly screams anticipation.

With a bright grin that L can’t see you reach out and flick the dial on it to the first setting. “Good boy.”

---

Stretching out to reach the side table you turn the bedside lamp on with a soft click, bathing the room in a soft warm light before turning back to your book, the soft light alleviating some of the eye strain you were beginning to feel as the light from outside steadily dimmed.

You’re sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed with L’s head and still restrained hands in your lap, your panties shoved in his mouth, completely soaked through with spit, as he thrashes and sobs. You turn the page of your book, as if it’s held any of your attention whatsoever, then card your fingers through L’s hair, pushing it away from his sweat soaked forehead, with a gentle hum that he responds to by curling in on himself and heaving for breath, drool spilling out past your panty gag and further soaking a wet spot on the hem of your dress.

The vibrator doesn’t match his cock anymore, it’s stayed the same of course, but what was once a pretty shade of blush pink is now somewhere between a furious red and a freshly bruised purple underneath layers and layers of cum that pool on and dribble down the sides of L’s stomach.

It really is getting late now, the sun having set about half an hour ago and when you look at the pretty picture L makes in your lap you think this is enough for now. You lean over him and brush against the toy, Pulling back when L flinches and cries out through his gag, “Shh… it’s okay sweetheart, We’re almost finished… I’m just going to turn this off now, okay?”

L’s breathing so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t lose consciousness but after a few moments as his cum drunk overstimulated mind processes what you said he nods his head in a repeated jerky motion, like he’s forgot how to move his body by his own volition. It makes you smile.

With a click you’ve got the vibrator turned off, and you slowly unwind the cord from around his cock, humming out soothing sounds and brushing sweat soaked hair away from his face once again as you ease the toy off of him, “Very good, L. You’ve been so good for me through all this.”

Tears fall from beneath the belt around his eyes and you lean in to kiss them away.

“All these tears even though I was so much nicer to you than you were to poor Misa.” Your hands go to the belt buckle, easing it open to uncover his eyes and freeing his wrists, “But I think you’ve learned to be nicer to those who can’t fight back, right sweetie?”

L shudders as you reach forwards and pinch your panties between two fingers, pulling them out from between his teeth and tossing the drenched fabric over the side of the bed, to be dealt with later. His arms are shaking as he twists to lie on his side, draped over your lap, and clings to you, pressing his face hard against your side as he struggles to catch his breath.

You go right back to petting his hair and cooing out gentle reassurances to the man using your free hand to rub against his wrist with a thumb, gentle circles to make sure the circulation is good and working. All the while his sobs die down into whimpers, then pants, then soft little huffs of breath.

You’ve never seen him do it before, knowing logically he must be capable of it, but you’re still somehow surprised when L falls asleep.

Gently, you ease him out of your lap, moving quietly so you can tiptoe to the en suite bathroom and wet a hand towel with warm water from the tap before returning quickly to his side.

Softly, with gentle movements you take great care to clean him up, starting by washing away his sweat then the layers upon layers of dried cum, before ending feather light at his abused cock. He whimpers and twitches when you touch it, still asleep, so you reach out with your free hand to run your fingers through his hair again, soothing him until he stills.

“He let me do this,” You think to yourself. “He could have raised his arms at any point and he would have been free. But then I’d still be upset with him.”

You toss the washcloth to the floor, press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and fall asleep in the wet patch, holding L in your arms.

---

When the light from the curtains pours in you quint against the evil daylight, burrowing your face further into the spot you’ve tucked yourself against L’s chest and smiling at the warm chuckle you hear a quiet, “Good morning.”

L’s voice is scratchy from overuse, and low from sleep.