His Eyes Focused On You (L x Reader)
Warnings: NSFW, nothing too explicit, established relationship, etc.
Anonymous Request: i was wondering if i could request something about nsfw interaction with L x reader in an established relationship:“ why are you looking at me like that? ” thank you so much 😊
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It’s a tangle of limbs and half muttered phrases, all of it crooned or muttered in throes of passion. There's bedsheets and pillows, the fragrance of pastries and the stagnant air that accompanies hotel rooms. As you're swept up in the rising heat of frantic touches and lingering kisses, you can barely keep your eyes open, wanting to savor the moment of pure vulnerability.
Your bed partner, all toned muscle and soft grunts, is holding you tightly, almost too tight. The pressure is comforting, making you believe that this is real.
It has to be real.
"Are you okay?"
You can't help but ask, as your back arches off the bed, your chest meeting his eager mouth. His tongue laves around your sensitive skin and his hands, soft finger pads and calloused palms exploring every inch of your body.
At your question, he pauses and his dark eyes meet yours.
Before you had become close to him, intimate in a way that you knew was afforded to few people, you didn't peg him for the type of person to want to get physical with another human being. Of course, you knew that most people had needs. You just assumed that based on his line of work and his preference for privacy, you thought that he would use other means to satisfy his primal urges. And if toys or other sources of stimulation weren't enough, then you supposed that he must have sought carnal satisfaction through sex workers.
For the most part, you were right. As a detective on the move, it was imperative for him to remain loose and detached from others. Sex workers, escorts, and the like could be bribed into silence. Machines and toys could be bought anonymously online. However, months of close relations and intimate conversation had culminated into the slow and steady crescendo of you and your beloved partner finally settling into each other's arms in an erotic dance that had you swaying your hips and falling neatly into his arms.
Over and over again.
Was it purely all physical?
You hoped that this relationship meant something to him. Many days were spent poring over his investigations and most nights were spent in each other’s arms. He loved talking, you knew that, but he also liked observing you. Watching you. Making note of your likes and dislikes, what made you tick, what made you smile that special smile of yours that made him proud.
In turn, you did the same.
You could never fool yourself into thinking that you truly knew every aspect of him, but when you were close together like this, with both your hips moving against each other in unison, sweet friction inciting the embers of passion, you thought you could finally see the man underneath the facade of a cold, analytical character. You had never doubted that he was human, but you never knew that he could lower his defenses to reveal that he was warm to the touch and that his heart beat fast under your touches.
“Are you okay?” You ask again, insistently this time. One of your hands lands on his bicep while the other cups his cheek. It’s intimate, too close to tender and leagues away from pure carnal intent. Often, the both of you would incite foreplay through banter, build up the tension with lingering touches and innuendo and then finally consummate your union. However, it was rare for soft touches that conveyed nothing more than affection and the trust that you had for him.
L, your lover, trusted you enough that you wouldn’t kill him in his sleep.
But L, the world’s greatest detective, only looked to you for help whenever he needed insight on one of his cases.
Having resigned yourself to the fact that this relationship was never going to be in your favor, you would not be surprised if L had decided to shrug away your soothing touches and continued to bring the both of you to completion. You would not lie: you ached for the sweet release of bliss, but you were content to remain connected as is, bodies intertwined and your sweat dripping and pooling together underneath your bodies and soaking into the sheets.
Yet, just when you were about to release L and to urge your hips to move against his, you felt your heart flutter with warmth when he interlaced his fingers with your fingers that caressed his cheek. For a brief moment, his dark eyed gaze kept you entranced, the look in his eyes seemingly expressionless, but the intensity stemming from a passion that you had never seen him display so brazenly before.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” It comes out as a whisper, barely louder than your moans as he leans closer to you, his every movement brushing against your most sensitive parts of you. There’s a broken, jagged edge to his tone, like a porcelain vase that had been broken and sanded down to prevent injury. Scars that never healed right.
L continues to hold your gaze and the grip that he has on your body seems to tighten and grow even warmer.
You’re lightheaded, but still very much aware of your surroundings and of course, L.
“It’s because I love you,” you whisper without any hint of irony or shame. Perhaps if you weren’t naked and swept up in his arms, maybe you might have thought twice about admitting such a thing, but in that moment, you wanted to be true to yourself.
“I love you,” you say again.
L holds you close, his dark eyed gaze never waving before you notice that the lines of his lips have softened and that one corner had lifted into a soft smile. Bending down, he presses a kiss–too chaste for this situation, but so very telling of his true desires–to your temple before he continues his ministrations from before, careful to keep his pace steady and his eyes focused on you.
It didn’t matter if he didn’t say it back.
His actions spoke otherwise.
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DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST