it's viktor!

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SYNOPSIS: You’re his sweetheart, his everything. The only good thing that shines light on his life as a proxy, and he desperately needs to show you how important you are to him.

You were curled up on the old couch in Toby’s room, one of your legs draped lazily over his lap, fingers absentmindedly running through his messy hair. He was trembling a little more than usual tonight, the muscle just beneath his left eye twitching in uneven beats.

He tried to keep his shoulders relaxed, but they jerked every now and again like someone was tugging invisible strings. Still, you could feel the way his breathing evened out slightly when he leaned into your touch.

He hadn’t said much all evening. Not that it was unusual. Sometimes, when the weight of the world and the screaming in his head got too loud, he just… folded into himself. You never pushed him. That’s part of why he loved you.

“Y-you’re s-s-so… fuck,” Toby mumbled through stutters, voice catching on a stutter and dissolving into a low groan. “Y-you’re so p-pretty it h-hurts.”

You looked down at him, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. They were hazy and dark, locked on you with something close to awe and need . Your heart skipped at the way his breath hitched.

“Yeah?” you whispered, smiling. “I think you’re pretty too.”

“Don’t,” he said, suddenly, voice tight and hoarse. His head jerked to the side and he blinked hard. “Don’t s-say that. Not… not about me.”

You frowned, thumb stroking the hinge of his jaw. “Why not?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned forward, burying his face in your neck like he wanted to disappear inside you. His gloved hands grabbed at your waist like he was anchoring himself. Like if he didn’t, he’d fall apart.

“B-because I’m not. I’m… I’m fucked up,” he said into your skin, muffled. “You s-should’ve left me, you… you c-c-could’ve. Could’ve found someone n-normal. Someone who doesn’t- duh-doesn’t-!!.” He couldn’t finish his sentence.

Your chest ached. You tilted his face toward yours gently and kissed the corner of his lips. He flinched, but didn’t pull away.

“I don’t want someone normal,” you whispered. “I want you.”

Toby let out a sound, half sob, half laugh. His hands shook harder as he pulled you closer, mouth brushing just beneath your ear.

“I d-don’t know how you do it,” he muttered. “Why you’re still here. I don’t- f-fuck…deserve you. But I need you. God, I-I need you.”

You felt the sharp scrape of his teeth on your neck but before the sting could even register you felt the warmth of his tongue, the suction of his lips, the hungry need in the way he mouthed at your skin like he wanted to consume you.

“I-I gotta… Need to… thank you,” he said, breathless. “Let me… please, l-let me thank you.”

Your fingers slid under the hem of his hoodie, feeling the hot skin of his stomach. He twitched under your touch, stammered something unintelligible, and looked at you with that wide eyed desperation again.

“I love you,” he choked. “It h-hurts how much I-I love you.”

“Then show me,” you said softly. “Let me take care of you, Toby.”

That’s all it took.

He had you on your back within seconds, gloves discarded somewhere on the floor, lips trailing rough, open mouthed kisses down your neck.

His hands were everywhere. Grabbing your hips, sliding under your shirt, shaking and twitching as he touched you like he didn’t know where to start or how to stop.

You could feel the love pouring out of him in every frantic movement. He didn’t touch like someone who was trying to get off. He touched like someone starving, desperate, reverent, terrified of waking up and finding out this was a dream.

“T-too much?” he asked, pulling back just long enough to search your face. You shook your head, arching up into him. “Not enough.”

He groaned low in his throat and yanked your shirt off. His eyes raked over your body like it was holy. “F-fuck… y-you’re like a fucking angel.”

You reached for him, helping him tug his hoodie and undershirt off. His skin was warm and scarred, chest rising and falling in shaky bursts. He looked nervous. Maybe even more than that, but you kissed every jagged scar like it was made of gold.

His fingers trembled as they skimmed your thighs, breath shaky, eyes flickering over every inch of you like he was afraid you’d vanish.

“Y-you’re so… f-fuck, so pretty,” Toby praised, voice rough and full of awe. His head jerked to the side slightly, but that didn’t stop his wandering hands. “S-so fuckin’ perfect… how the hell are y-you mine?”

You reached for his cheek, brushing your thumb along his stubbly jaw. “So are you, baby.” Toby whimpered when you spoke in that low, loving voice, while full body shudder rolled through him. “D-don’t say that unless -fuck- unless you mean it,” he rasped. “I-I’m not gonna be able to… to hold b-back…”

You pulled him down into a kiss, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. His hands clenched in the sheets at first, but quickly moved, jittery, to your waist, then under your shirt, dragging it off like he needed it gone. And honestly? He probably would’ve combust if he hadn’t taken it off.

Next was your panties, he dragged the lacy fabric down your legs hurriedly, he just stared for a second. His pupils blew wide. His mouth opened, like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t form the words.

Then his scarred fingers moved closer, careful at first, then with a hunger that made your breath catch. He dragged two fingers through your folds, twitching slightly when he felt how wet you already were.

“Y-you’re this wet for me?” he whispered, voice breaking like he almost couldn’t believe it. You nodded, gasping when he slid a finger inside you, thick and slow. His hand trembled, and he groaned through his clenched teeth. Then another finger joined the first.

“F-fuck,” he muttered, jaw twitching. “Y-you’re- so t-tight… feels like y-you’re already pullin’ me in.” He was barely holding it together, thrusting his fingers into you while his other hand dug into your thigh, holding it wide. He twitched as he moved, watching your face contort with pleasure.

“D-don’t look away,” he begged, voice cracking as he curled his fingers inside you. “I wanna see you fall apart… Wanna see what I d-do to you…”

You whimpered when his thumb found your clit rubbing slow and teasing circles, his hand twitching even as started to move with more confidence. You clenched around him, moaning his name, and he lost it.

“F-feel that?” he panted, voice shaking. “You’re s-so close, I can f-feel you gripping -fuck- gripping me…” You came with a cry, thighs trembling, body arching into his hand. He didn’t stop, kept fingering you through it, lips hovering just above yours, eyes wild.

“G-good girl,” he whispered. “You look so fuckin’ pretty like this. M-made just for me.” When he finally pulled his fingers out, he quickly brought them to his mouth go get a taste, sucking them in with a groan.

“I c-can’t- can’t wait anymore,” he choked. “Need to be inside you. Need to feel you.” He pushed his pants down in one rushed motion, cock flushed and leaking, twitching just like the rest of him. He lined up at your entrance and froze, teeth clenched. “It’s okay.” you breathed.

He didn’t have to be told twice and sank into you with one deep thrust, burying himself all the way to the hilt. Your back arched, and he let out a sound, somewhere between a groan and a whimper. “S-so-so tight,” he gasped. “Oh my f-fucking god…”

He set a rhythm, fast, erratic, twitching through every thrust like he could barely control himself. His moans were constant, broken, raw.

He sank his teeth into your neck, rough enough that you wouldn’t be surprised if he broke the skin. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, pupils wide and dark, like he was staring at something divine. His eyelids fluttered shut as he leaned in and pressed soft, reverent kisses over the fresh bite marks he had just made.

“F-fuck, you feel so good, feels like y-you were made for me,” he gasped. “Y-you take me s-so well, you’re duh-doing s-so good…”

His hips slammed against yours, hands gripping your waist, twitching as he lost himself deeper. He looked wrecked as he clenched his jaw shut, eyes rolling back slightly.

You met his thrusts, voice shaky, moaning into his mouth, “Don’t stop, Toby.”

“I won’t,” he pressed gentle kisses to your temple, his thrusts never wavering. “P-promise.”

You clenched around him, body shaking, pleasure building again. His twitching got worse, whole body spasms between thrusts, but he didn’t stop. He held on.

“G-god, I’m close,” he choked. “You’re s-squeezing me, fuck, fuck, come for me again? P-please, baby, let me feel it-“

You cried out his name as you came again, body locking up under him. He groaned into your neck, hips stuttering, cock twitching as he spilled inside you. Hot, deep and messy.

He collapsed on top of you, panting into your skin, twitching slightly with the aftershocks.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment, just the sound of heavy breathing and rustling sheets, the tremble of his voice when he whispered, “You’re perfect.”

๑ Warning: Closet sex, sneaking around, vaginal sex, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie, vaginal fingering, proxy reader

๑ Words: 3.0k

── .✦

Being a proxy means your brain is never really quiet.

Even when the others are out on their own assignments, or it’s late at night and you’re all by yourself, the air still hums with a constant static, like a radio signal stuck between stations, just loud enough to crawl under your skin and make you irritable. 

It’s Him. Always Him.

"Dont tell me you're ticklish?"

You joke, making him let out a breathy chuckle as he watched your fingers now.

"No, I-I just like having you—tic—touch me. You feel r-real that way. Like you're actually here...not just smoke i-i-in my fingers."

He says in that soft tone that he only had with you. His heart thumping in his chest so hard he thought it might escape. Even now, after all this time, he still gets so flustered around you. He cant help it, you're just too perfect to him.

"I suppose it is true that smoke can't do this..."

You say, fingers sliding down his abdomen as they dip teasingly into his waistband. His breath hitches as his hips buck up under you out of instinct. You giggle as he groans, fingers digging into your thighs.

"Asshat."

"Don't act like you dont like it."

"I like it m-more than i—click click—should, and it's a-all your fault."

He says, hands sliding up your sides until he reaches your shoulders, pulling you down into a kiss. Kisses with him were the best. Sloppy, uncoordinated, passionate. He kissed you like he was trying to steal the very air from your lungs.

"Mm, how awful of me."

"So awful."

Saw this on TikTok, thought I’d share

synopsis: Anyone who knows L knows that he's got his own way of doing things. He values efficiency in his work. However, despite his almost robotic-like work ethic, he's not absolved from the feeling of arousal. L jerks off sometimes, but it takes long when he's alone. He knows already cums quick when thinking of you, so when you walk in on him one day and don't seem to mind, L thinks of a perfect proposition!

pairing: l lawliet x fem!reader

word count: 3.8k

tags/warnings: mentions of porn, male masturbation, cum licking, pervy L, walking in on L, L HAS BUSH, L is very straightforward, fucking your coworker, blowjob, brief mention of cunnilingus, UNCUT KING, whimpering, crying during sex, L licks up your tears, reader mentioned to have glasses, coworkers to lovers, chair sex, reader refers to L as "Ryu" until implied further into arrangement, "L" used in certain moments

a/n: larping bc i STILL haven't finished death note but like please L is my friend #larplarplarpsahur

divider cred: @chrisssiren

L Lawliet is a man of routine. Meticulous routine, that is. Routine that has allowed him to do efficiently what is called of him.

L’s unconventional. He works for days without sleep, his signature pose has him hunched over and his knees tucked up to his chest, he showers differently, he lives off of sweets to a degree that would probably be counterintuitive to the productivity of anyone else, and yet, no one bats an eye. Not when he was one of the greatest living detectives in the world. Not when there was a case as big as Kira needing to be solved.

All that being said, L’s quirks didn’t absolve him from the natural pulls of human instinct. He was human still, after all. When he worked too long, sleep would call, and he’d give in quite reluctantly, understanding its necessity but not without the thought of how much time he’d be wasting passing his mind. L saw these actions as simple roadblocks, tasks that needed to be completed in order for him to execute his job well, that opting to not give into these urges would most likely result in more harm than good. L wasn’t a stupid man. He knew what human limits were.

L’s relationship with sexual pleasure was not very exciting. At least, not before you. He discovered self pleasure like anyone else. Puberty boners and a damned need to make them go away, finding that if he rutted against his bed long enough this euphoric feeling would rip through him and last just few seconds before he’d beleft panting, satisfaction evident in the drool that manages to slip out the corner of his mouth.

As he got older, he discovered porn. He’d concluded early on that the end result of finishing was much more pleasurable when he had a stimulus to jerk off to. He noticed he liked looking when women bent over, when they had low-cut tops. He’d make mental notes of the color of their panties or their bras, using the stored memories to fuck his hand to during the nights he felt release was needed. So, the discovery of porn to him was…nice. Porn, he found, was convenient. He didn’t have to scrounge his mind for old memories, or leave his workspace to gain new ones. Porn gave him more than he was even looking for. It introduced his mind to an entirely new web of information; he gained tastes for certain categories and favored actions he saw in videos that one could deem “kinks.”

He didn’t have a purpose for much of this information though, aside from decreasing the search time for him when finding a video to jerk off to, it mostly buried itself in the farthest corner of his mind until he felt he needed to orgasm again.

Then you were put on the Kira investigative team.

And suddenly the need to masturbate came more frequently. He’d start to feel it in his gut when you were near him, arousal building in his lower abdomen when you leaned in closer to listen to what he had to say, how your lips looked wrapped around a strawberry plucked off his shortcake he so graciously offered you. Suddenly, he spent a little longer masturbating; it wasn’t only to get it over with anymore. He liked thinking of you.

When you leave his office he allows his mind to wander, like clockwork he’d have to relieve himself after working with you. He hums contentedly at the feeling of his cock swelling up, growing thicker and harder in his pants as he closes his eyes, the vision of the strawberry in your mouth transforming into his leaky red tip resting on your lips. His hips twitch into the seam of his jeans, just enough friction to elicit a gasp from his lips.

“Oh, god.” he hushes, steeling himself for a moment before slipping from his normally hunched position, and slouching in his office chair, letting his feet touch the cold floor below as he lifts his white shirt up higher to expose his abdomen. His pale skin lacks much hair, except for the patchy dark happy trail of his, leading to a much thicker, unkempt bush. 

Like routine, his slender fingers fiddle with his jeans, undoing the button, then the zipper, before sighing at the lack of restriction, and the light breeze from the colder room that ghosts over his sensitive dick, a wet spot visible at the front of it.

He pulls his pants down just enough, before peeling his sticky briefs off enough to free his cock, heavy and needy resting on his thigh, leaking more by the second.

L wraps a hand around himself, hissing at the contact, closing his eyes as he squeezes harder, working himself faster at the thought of you. Your pretty, wide eyes, your laugh, your thighs in the skirts you wear to work. God, he’d never felt this way about anyone before. Sure, he’s acknowledged when a woman was attractive, but you were more to him. He had an affinity for you. To your wit, your kindness, your easygoing attitude that charmed him the second you were brought on. You had him appreciating traits he didn’t care much about when it came to others.

Heavy, high-pitched huffs leave his mouth as he gets closer, twisting his fist harder, faster. His pre cum drips from his tip and falls down into his bush, traveling down the length of his cock and lubing his actions, actions that produced echoing, lewd, sloppy noises. Noises he shut his eyes to and envisioned to be your sopping pussy.

“F-fuck…I’m close.” He whispers to himself, more of a statement (it always is with him), so lost in his pleasure that he barely hears your voice at his door, knocking thrice. Every logical cell in his body tells him to stop and check but he can’t help himself. Maybe he was hallucinating your voice, maybe he was dreaming, maybe, just maybe, he wanted you to see him like this, a dirty, hopeful part of him that trusts you to reciprocate his feelings.

You walk in.

You walk in just as he’s cumming. An impressive amount of white shoots from his dick, covering the exposed expanse of his lean chest that heaves up and down. He makes no effort to open his eyes. He supposed it’s too late now.

He hears your gasp. He lets himself smile at it. You’ve got your hands clutched over your mouth and you sputter out apologies, but he notices you don’t make any motion to leave—not to run off down the hallway, not to curse him out in shock, not to shut the door and step out. In fact, he heard you step in.

And close the door. Behind you.

And for a moment it’s peaceful, if you try and see it that way. Neither of you speak. The room creates this bubble around the two of you. L gulps before finally opening his eyes, looking over to meet your widened ones.

“I suppose you’ve caught me.”

It’s so casual. A chill runs down your spine and you hate the way your eyes immediately flick back to his dick, framed by his dark pubes, hairs coated with dots of cum that reflect the light.

“Judging by your actions I can assume you’re not uncomfortable?” He asks knowingly, before reaching forward towards the tissue box on his desk, his other hand stretching out to you.

“Come closer.” “If you’re staying, that is.”

An airy chuckle escapes his lips as you listen, the recognizable sound of your heels clacking against the floor meeting his perky ears before coming to a pause. He watches the way you grab the tissues from his hand, a puzzled look crossing his face when you crumple them up and toss the ball onto his desk instead of using them to clean him up.

But his breath hitches when you drop down to your knees, watching the hesitance in your movements, catching the way you swallow down your nervousness, how he can tell you know he notices it. It’s comforting to know he is too though. L stammers out your name, hands clenching and unclenching while resting on the arm rests of his chair.

It’s clear you’re looking for some sort of reassurance, and when you find a glint of trust in his gaze you bend down, taking his soft dick in your mouth, licking off the residue of sticky sweet pre and his salty cum as he whimpers. L’s stomach tenses at the feeling of you lapping up the cum on his stomach, replacing the white puddles with glossy streaks of saliva in the shape of your tongue.

He thinks. His constant fantasy reciprocates his feelings and works alongside him. It makes perfect sense to start calling you into his office next time he needs to work off some arousal.

He propositions you the next day, calling you over after the work day is done, finding it sweet the way you come readily, sitting across from him in that tight skirt of yours, squeezing your thighs together as you fidget with your fingers in your lap.

“I was thinking…after yesterday.”

You swallow.

“You enjoyed that, correct?”

“I did, Ryuzaki.” “I-I apologize for walking in o—”

“No need.” He waves off your apology, before placing his hands back on his tucked knees.

“If you’re interested, I’d like to propose an arrangement.”

Your head tilts. “What do you mean, Ryu?”

“As you know, many of my habits are shaped by how efficiently they allow me to finish my work.” “However, this does not mean I do not respond to the natural urges of sexual release—as you were able to see. Noting your further choice of action yesterday I take it you’re more than understanding.”

“Therefore, I ask if you would be okay with me requesting you during my next bout of arousal.”

Stunned. That’s what you are. How could he say something like this so easily? Did he really mean it? Was it personal to you? So many questions ran through your head that you couldn’t find it in yourself to hide the surprise in your expression. Even so, you couldn’t deny the way his words made you clench around nothing, panties wetting at his direct tone, and initiative he didn’t even intend to have come off that way.

Your answer wasn’t very difficult to find.

———

“Oh…fuck! Ryu!” You cry, clawing at the skin of his back, nails painting him with red marks.

L’s got you on your back, you’re practically folded in half. He has you in the nastiest mating press, hips snapping into you hard as his eyes stay shut, consumed by the feeling of your gummy walls that squeeze at his length. He thinks that the feeling of sex should be something he’s used to by now, but instead, every time he sinks into you it’s unfathomable the amount of pleasure he feels. Familiar yet exciting, the rush of adrenaline making it feel like his first time with you every time.

His nimble fingers wrap around your ankles, securing himself with you underneath him as he continues to ram his cock inside of you, his tip kissing your sweet spot with every thrust. Dark strands of hair stick to L’s forehead damp with sweat. He’s not very chatty, only letting out heavy huffs and the occasional whimper when you clench around him particularly hard. Like when your hand reaches down to rub at your needy clit, the added sound of you rubbing your juices over yourself making his ears perk and his pace falter.

“Oh…wow, that feels good…hah..” “Are you feeling good?”

“It’s—oh..! Ryu…it’s so hmph! Deep…” you whine the hand you have slung around his shoulder moves to his jaw before cupping his face. Your thumb sits by the corner of his mouth before it’s taken into his. He sucks on it, whining and mumbling around the digit as the two of you near your orgasms. His next words make your stomach flutter, and your eyebrows scrunch as you get emotional at them.

“I-I…I want you to feel good too…it’s n-not just for me..” he says, meeting your sweet gaze. The sheer genuineness of it makes you want to melt, to give yourself over to him completely and entirely without a second thought, but you know that wouldn’t be smart. It’d be wrong to get your hopes up when the two of you had been doing this a while now with nothing of the sort.

But there was just something about it. Something about the past few months that you knew the both of you had noticed. The way your hesitant touches against each other's bodies grew practiced and knowing, how your sessions started to get longer, how he started to take his time pleasing you instead of making you orgasm in exchange for your help with his. You started to notice the way he’s picked up on what you enjoy, things you'd never said aloud, how he’d do them again and hum contentedly when you confirmed his observations, tugging on his hair as he held down your hips, laving his tongue over your weepy pussy.

You whine, eyes squeezing shut as his thrusts urge you closer to your release. You clench around him, toes curling. You don’t even realize that you're crying until you feel his tongue lap up your tears as they fall, cooing softly as he does, the wimpy tone of his voice letting you know he’s right there with you.

“D-Don’t cry, beautiful..” “I-Is it because it’s good?” He grunts, hips picking up pace.

“I’m—oh..!” “L…” you whisper, nearly silent. You deliver the moan right to his ear. It’s extraordinary.

Your pussy fucking milks him, sucking in all of what comes out of his dick as he fucks the two of you through it, shaking the bedframe as he overstims the both of you.

“Sh-shit…you are..incredible..”

———

It’s really not a shock to anyone around the two of you when the dynamic of your arrangement slips the mouth of Watari.

Whether they said it aloud or not, there was a clear shift in comfortability between the two of you—seats closer together, a hand on your shoulder, a cake offering from L. Yeah, if you weren’t secretly married, you had to be fucking. It didn’t affect his ability to work—so whatever.

———

Your phone buzzes again. A message from L.

I’d like for you to come over, please. Thank you.

You’re already smiling, a big wide grin on a woman excited to please, already starting to comb through your hair with your fingers and spritzing a little extra perfume, the scent of strawberry shortcake dusting all over you.

It’s how you end up here. Glasses tugged off your face and discarded elsewhere so he can get a better look at your eyes, watery and lovestruck from underneath his desk. You’ve got a mouth full of cock. Spit pools out the corners of your mouth during your pause, nostrils flaring as you breathe through your nose.

“Take a break if you have to.” He whispers softly, consideration evident in the way he brushes some hair out of your face, his touch gentle and appreciative.

A smile paints his features as you pull off, replacing your mouth with slow pumps of your hand that make his breath hitch.

“You look very beautiful.” He mutters softly.

You chuckle, licking your lips coated with his stringy pre and your spit, looking up at him almost bashfully.

“You think, Ryu?”

“Well. Truthfully, I have always found you to be quite breathtaking.”

His matter-of-fact praise makes you want to please him more, mouth latching back onto his heavy dick, bobbing your head and swirling your tongue around his sensitive head, pulling back his foreskin to tongue the underside. L tosses his head back while his grip in your hair tightens. His hips threaten to jerk up into your mouth and he stutters out apologies.

“It—oh…you’re so good at this…th-thank you..” he mumbles, his restraint slipping by the second before his hips are bucking into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat.

He groans as you hold there, the wet cave of your throat contracting around him as you gag on his cock, eyes half-lidded as you gaze up at him from where you are. Your nose and chin are buried in his unkempt bush, damp with drool as you desperately clutch at his thighs. The sharp sting of your nails combined with your throat has him whimpering, eyebrows scrunched as he praises you.

“Fuck…fuck..p-please..m-more..” he begs softly, nearly crying at the way you toy with his balls in response, rolling the skin in your hands as you swirl your tongue around him.

“Oh—yes..yes, I’m getting close..!” “Please.”

Suddenly, his orgasm tears through him. L’s eyes roll to the back of his skull and his body twitches ever so slightly off of the office chair, a sharp whine of your name leaving his lips. He jolts when you pull back, replacing your mouth with your hand as you jerk him off through his release. Your mouth sucks on his fat nuts, hand stroking up and down as white coats your pretty face, landing on your lips like white glaze on a donut.

“S-so…beautiful…” he pants out, stroking your temple. He catches the way you’re rutting against the heel of your shoe, gazing up at him with desperate eyes and he can’t help but be speechless at the sight.

“Th-thank you, for that.” “I’d like you to come up now.” He murmurs, watching the way you rise at his command, letting yourself be pulled into his lap before he’s wiping his cum off of your face.

“You’re feeling needy now.” He hums, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, Ryu..there’s no need to—”

He cuts you off with a brief shush, stroking your hair.

“I want to.”

Behind you, L’s got his other hand wrapped around himself, stroking his dick back to being erect, watching the way you’re all wide-eyed and confused before he’s slipping a hand down to the hem of your skirt, and hiking it up over your hips from there. He smiles as you gasp, noting the way the beating of his heart quickens at it. You feel as a slender finger catches the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your thighs.

“This is alright?” he confirms, dark eyes meeting yours.

When you nod, he’s already grinding his cock against your folds, slapping it against you a few times just to hear the wet thud that echoes.

“Mmmphh..please..! I need it..!” You whine, pouty.

“Mhm. Patience.”

In reality, you don’t have to wait long at all. For as consequential as it might be in other contexts, he has a weak spot for you.

L starts to fill you up, stuffing your pussy full all the way to the brim. You swear you can feel him in your stomach as he starts bucking up with shallow thrusts. You sling your arms around his shoulders in response, desperate for an anchor as he relieves the ache that had been building inside of you for the last hour.

L’s hands find your waist, his grip tightening before he starts fucking you hard, ramming up into you with a surprising amount of force, like every thrust is meant to prove a point, like he’s trying to tell you something with each one. He never shuts his eyes. Instead, he trains them on you, like he needs to watch the way you fall apart for him. You were his first, and now he couldn’t dream of wanting or having anyone else. On top of the way you clench around him, there’s this never-leaving flutter in his chest that he can’t quite put a name to. All he knows is that it’s particularly pronounced whenever something involving you comes up. He used to think it was something to do with when you two had sex. Then, he noticed it when you hugged him, then the flutter was back when you were just working together, then finally, he realized his chest would tighten just at the thought of you.

“Ryu! S-so good!” You cry, snapping him out of his trance.

L leans down to kiss you. It’s messy and not necessarily “hot” but there’s something so very L about it that makes you weak. He laps at your drool, mumbling barely coherent words through it all, savoring the way you go limp against him. His cock never lets up pace, and as if that wasn’t enough, his thumb finds your poor, needy clit, rubbing circles that egg you on. 

“You’re getting close.” He points out, his voice breaking half-way through as he teeters on his own climax.

“Mmmphhh! Mhm!”

He huffs through his nose, connecting your foreheads together when he can tell you’re only a few more thrusts away from cumming, his lips pressing a gentle kiss onto your nose bridge–sustained and intimate.

“Hah..ah! L…” you choke out into his ear as you finally gush, so sweet and wimpy and overwhelmingly sincere in tone, and it makes him want to fuck his cum into you harder, to bury it so deep it stays and doesn’t leak out. 

Fuck, you were amazing. You were his.

As you lie there, panting, sweaty bodies on top of each other, L takes the moment to steel himself, finding comfort in the way your pussy pulses every once in a while, the two of you oversensitive and exhausted.

“Hey.” He hums to you.

You meet his tired gaze with one of your own, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, Ryu?”

“Could I say something…unproffesional?”

You laugh, and his breath catches at the twinkle in your eye that you always have when you’re about to say something witty.

“Unproffessional?” “Then no.” You quip sarcastically.

He laughs with you.

“Okay, okay. I’ll say what I was thinking of.”

There’s a pause.

“I think, since we’ve started this…” he says, referencing your arrangement. “I’ve been able to identify my feelings towards you much better than before. Feelings of…fondness.” “Frankly, what I’m trying to say is…I have romantic feelings for you.” “I wanted you to know.”

You could almost yelp with how surprised you are. Oh, how nice it was to know all those times you chided yourself for being delusional were wrong. You’d never been so ecstatic about being incorrect before.

“Oh…you have no idea,” You whisper, taking his face in your hands before peppering it all over with kisses, not stopping even when he tries to speak again.

“Alright,” he laughs happily as you finally relent, holding the both of your hands in his. “I assume you feel the same then.”