towel-drying his hair ! ★
⤷ L lawliet x fem!reader
syn. L has trouble taking care of himself when he prioritises his work. it drives you up the wall.
-> 554 words
a soft sigh passes your lips as you crouch down beside L, setting a plate of freshly baked cookies down beside him with a soft clink.
he’s hunched over on the floor in that awful posture of his, knees drawn to his chest, thumb pressed absently to his mouth while grainy surveillance footage flickers across the tv screen. papers litter the floor around him in uneven piles, some half-crumpled, some covered in frantic scribbles only he can decipher.
he looks at the offering on the plate and simply nods in gratitude.
normally, you’d insist he sit at the table with you. eat something more substantial.
a vegetable, perhaps.
but after enough nights spent with L, you’ve learned compromise is the closest thing to victory. this was the only way to get him to eat at all when he became hyperfocused on cases like these.
"eat." you whisper. you lean down to kiss his temple, and the moment your lips brush his skin, damp strands of black hair cling to your mouth.
your expression flattens from that adoring, concerned look to a death glare almost immediately.
L turns his head to you slowly with a wide-eyed look of a man who's well aware of his crimes.
“you said you were going to dry your hair,” your eyes narrow.
“i will,” he replies.
“one hour ago.”
he looks down at the screen again with a tiny huff, picking up a cookie delicately between his thumb and index finger with his typical pinching motion, letting it dangle there before taking a bite.
“are you ignoring me?” you ask, poking the top of his wet head.
“you’ll scold me if i answer,” he says around the mouthful, completely unbothered.
you stare at him for a second in disbelief before exhaling through your nose, pushing his head. “don’t complain to me when you get a headache later.”
then you turn and walk away.
years of detective work have made L exceptionally good at predicting human behavior.
so ten minutes later, you return holding a towel, and it's exactly as he expected.
“was this your plan all along?” you grumble.
you settle onto the couch behind him, and without hesitation, he shifts until he’s comfortably seated between your legs, cheek pressed against your inner thigh while you begin rubbing the towel against his damp hair.
he nods once. completely shameless.
you clamp your knees around his head in punishment.
"ow." he mutters. but doesn't fight back.
“unbelievable.”
L only hums softly, eyes still fixed on the footage playing onscreen as your fingers work through the dark strands. then he tilts his chin backwards far enough to look up at you.
his lips form that natural pout of his that always makes your heart ache unbeknownst to him. big dark eyes. heavy shadows beneath them. round and empty-looking in the way that fools almost everyone into believing there’s nothing behind them at all — you know better.
unfortunately, that doesn’t stop him from looking unbearably adorable.
for a moment, you want to put the towel down, squish his cheeks between your hands and kiss every inch of his stupid face.
instead, still annoyed, you pinch his nose.
his brows twitch.
“do your work,” you grumble, pushing his head forward again.
he doesn't need to respond for you to know he's smiling.
reader who’s trying to fix lawliets sleep schedule and drags him to bed, ok??
“sitting that close to a screen will ruin your eyesight. didn’t watari tell you that when you were younger?” you groaned, standing at the edge of your boyfriend’s desk, comfortably wrapped in a blanket burrito. eye bags were beginning to form beneath your waterline at this point, and you could barely keep yourself awake—but you had some scolding to do!
“no. not specifically.” he looked back at you, his thumb nail pressed again his bottom lip. “why do you insist on this?”
“because—you’re ruining your sleep schedule! sleep is very deeply connected to health which is connected to your brain power! you also eat sweets all the time. definitely not a balanced diet…! you’ll get brain fog! brain fog is a nightmare for a detective—mmph!”
an unexpected, gentle slap of L’s palm against your mouth made you pause, his dark—almost pitch black eyes boring into your own.
both of you sat in silence for a few seconds, his focus completely on you until he shed his hand away from you and turned back towards his computer screen.
“are you satisfied now?”
“am—am i satisfied!?” your jaw practically dropped, your annoyance multiplying once you caught the slight curve of the corners of his lips in the reflection of the screen in front of him.
“you’re so impossible! all i’m trying is to help youuuggghhhhaaaa” you flop your head onto his shoulder, the muscle tensing beneath you.
“if i’m impossible for getting my work done in the most efficient manner, then fine…call me whatever you’d like.”
“mghhhhhh…”
“what was that?”
“mfhdgshh….” you grumbled beneath your breath, greedy hands suddenly capturing his waist in a tight hold.
L slowly but surely tilted himself back into your touch, dressing his small pleasure from the gesture with a deadpan expression.
“is this your plan?”
“…no.” you sighed defeatedly, frowning when he simply remained in place—unmoving and hyperfocused.
your tone of voice dropped without warning, your faux irritation melting into concern.
“L, come on..just a few hours? i’m worried about you.” you whispered, raising your head ever so slightly so your lips could align with his ear.
“…two hours.”
you immediately bounce up, smiling like you’d won the lottery. “i’ll take it!!”
you squeeze your boyfriend tightly, kissing his cheek before pulling him out of his chair.
“we can spoon too.” you add, adjusting your blanket burrito that wrapped around you.
“spoon.”
“mhm, spoon!” your smile grew bigger as you took his hand, his taller frame comical compared to yours as you dragged him to your bedroom.
your bedsheets were plain, but you made up with it with comfy pillows and blankets—your bed was practically a pillow fort!
“come on.” you spoke, holding his hand as you got in bed.
he simply sat against the pillows, awkwardly staring idly…
“ehe..you can lay down now..”
“hm.”
he carefully moved himself to lie on his side, and you wasted no time slotting your self against him, your back to his chest.
“see? we’re spoons.”
“…i see.” he murmured, slowly wrapping his hands around your waist, his forehead resting gently against your shoulder. the same way you had been before.
“resting may not be so bad..if it’s always like this.”
a/n: short, i know…but i’m writing a longer mikami fic next :3
L with a girlfriend who likes to bake but gets sugar-sick easily. so he’s responsible for testing all your experiments and giving you his opinion, besides making sure the desserts don't end up going to waste. even unconsciously you start adapting the recipes a bit thinking of him.
the last brownies you had baked were too sweet for your taste, however there he was, making that gesture that told you it wasn't sweet enough, which you confirmed shortly after.
“they need more sugar,” he finally confirmed and your brow furrowed at those words. Well, it’s not like you could expect more from a recipe with dark chocolate after all. but still, it was a dessert… it was sweet enough, right? smelling so many ingredients, the smell that lingered in the air while you baked and now tasting them you felt that your palate and your brain were disconnected.
“seriously? I put 150 extra grams of sugar.” you looked at the recipe trying to remember every step you had followed to the letter. not that it surprised you coming from the person who ate sugar cubes as if they were mints.
your eyes returned to him—in that posture so unusual and holding the dessert with the tips of his fingers that for a second made you think it was going to fall on the kitchen island—only to realize that he had already taken another of the pieces you had placed on a plate for tasting. it was likely that those brownies would no longer exist by the end of the night.
you’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and being lulled to sleep by the rhythmic clacking of L’s keyboard.
“you know what i wish?” you muse, watching the light coming off his computer brighten and darken as he flicks between screens.
“wishing is of little consequence,” he replies, almost automatically. “it won’t change the reality we live in.”
you ignore him. “ryuzaki, you want to know what i wish?”
he sighs, knowing you’ll persist anyway. “what do you wish, my love?”
“i wish that we were in a romance manga,” you tell him, clutching a pillow to your chest and letting your head hang off the side of the bed. “and you’d be just a detective and i’d be just me.”
he’s silent for a moment, taking in your words before he responds. “but i am a detective and you are you. where would this divulge from reality?”
“no one would die, because it’s a romance manga and it’s not that kind of story,” you say with a sigh. “the biggest mystery you’d be solving was how to ask me out and the only crime committed was how you’d stolen my heart—” he almost laughs at that part, “—and we could have a beach episode and montages of cute dates and a christmas special and—” you prattle on, excited merely over the prospect as you list off other fantasies.
ryuzaki listens as he works, used to this dreamy behavior from you (especially when you’re half asleep like this). your ramblings amuse him.
“i could take you to the beach,” he muses, eyes wandering in thought.
“hm?”
“watari owns several private islands,” he says, wheeling around in his chair to face you. “they’re used for different purposes, mostly as safe houses for emergencies. but i’m sure he wouldn’t mind us staying there on a long weekend.”
“are you being serious, ryuzaki?” you ask after a moment, clutching the edge of the mattress to keep yourself upright. your eyes are big and curious and hold a little ember of hope and giddiness.
“when am i not serious?” he mumbles in reply, clacking away on his keyboard but unable to hide a small smile.
you clap in delight, letting out a happy squeal. “oh my god! a private island retreat!”
“it’s nothing fancy,” he insists, turning back to his work, “so don’t go thinking this is some grand occasion.”
“ryuzaki, what about a private island isn’t fancy?!” you reply, clambering off the bed in a hurry. you whirl about the room, darting between the closet and nightstand and dresser. “i have to pack all my swimsuits and summer clothes and oh, my sandals! and my hats and sunglasses!”
“i didn’t say we were going now,” he chides, casting you an incredulous glance as he watches you flit about the room. your manic energy is endearing, if somewhat exasperating.
you straighten from where you’d been bent over the drawers, grinning and sweeping your hair from your eyes. “ah, you said a long weekend. there’s a holiday next week! if we leave in the next couple days, we can beat most of the travel congestion for the break.”
a small smile manages to overtake him at your spindle of logic. “so you’ve got it all worked out then?”
if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was teasing you
“yes,” you reply indignantly, “now get watari on the phone and tell him i said ‘pretty please with a cherry on top’.”
he huffs with a soft laugh, shaking his head. you aren’t demanding of much, but once you have your sights set on something there’s no stopping you. “very well, my love. i’ll call watari, but that ‘cherry on top’ you mentioned will be for me, accompanied by a significant amount of cake.”
“deal,” you grin, shooing at him to make the call.
✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: he has a high fever, but he won't let you take care of him.
contents: gn!reader. fluff. mentions of mild sickness. first time writing for L (my new hyperfixation!)
“ryu, you can’t seriously work like this,” you insist, tugging at the sleeve of L’s shirt. he doesn’t respond until you snatch the half-eaten pastry out of his hand. “i’m serious!”
L turns and looks at you disbelievingly. “i’m fine,” he responds indifferently, not seeming to notice the red blush spreading throughout his face. “it’s not bad enough to keep me from the investigation,” he adds, making an attempt to retrieve his snack from your outstretched hand.
“you have a fever,” you say pointedly, taking a bite of the sugary sweet. L makes an unimpressed face and sighs, posture worsening even more—is that even possible?—before he turns back to his computer.
“i can’t even feel it,” L insists, sticking out his bottom lip. you reach out and brush some of his hair out of his eyes, resting the back of your hand on his forehead. either your boyfriend has an otherworldly resistance to sickness or he’s lying, because he’s burning up.
you sigh and let your hand fall from L’s forehead to his cheek, fingers tracing his jawline as you watch him scroll through some sort of legal document. obviously, he’s not going to stop working without a reason, so you try a different approach. “L, if you’re sick, does that affect your deductive skills?”
L’s fingers still around the computer mouse, ceasing his scrolling as he looks back up at you. “i guess.”
“so you shouldn’t be working on a really important case while you have a high fever, right? or you could miss something.”
he scrunches up his nose in response and thinks for a long second. “why are you trying so hard to get me to stop working?” L asks, narrowing his eyes. he tilts his head in genuine curiosity—which is funny, because you think it should be obvious.
you shrug in response, a small smile growing on your lips. “shouldn’t you know already?” you tease, poking his cheek playfully. L looks at you blankly, giving no discernable reaction—like always. “you’re impossible,” you huff, crossing your arms childishly.
“answer the question.”
“because i care about my boyfriend. sue me.”
L blinks, a flicker of surprise shining in his dark eyes. he doesn’t respond, but he does stand up and take your hand, cold fingers tangling with yours as he lets you lead him away. “thank you,” he murmurs, and his voice is almost quiet enough for you to miss his words entirely. you squeeze his hand in response—no need for words.
he rests his head on your shoulder as you exit the dark, shaded investigation room. "can i have the last bite?" he asks tentatively, pointing at the remainder of his pastry that's left in your other hand. you laugh a little and nod, pausing in front of a flight of stairs to feed L the last sugar-filled bite.
L's lips close around the flaky pastry and brush against your fingers, and even with the added blush from his fever, his face noticeably goes a shade pinker.
"you're so cute, ryu," you mumble, brushing away the crumbs that linger around his lips with your thumb. he hums in reply, shadowed eyes closing as he rests his cheek in your palm.
"i'm tired."
"then let me take care of you for a little," you insist, watching as he reopens his eyes and looks back at the ajar door of the investigation room. "please?"
"fine. a couple hours, then i have to get back to the case."
"m'kay, m'kay."
(he ends up falling asleep in your arms and doesn't wake up for seventeen hours straight—but when he does, his fever's gone!)
⊹ L Lawliet’s favourite way to bond with you is sitting silently while working on a case for hours on end. Despite not speaking for hours, just having your presence there means a lot to him.
⊹ L Lawliet analyses everything that you do, usually without meaning to. While most would find this to be an invasion of privacy, it allows him to know when and why your mood shifts and exactly how to make you feel better. L solves your problems before even you realise you have them.
⊹ L Lawliet is 100% genuine yet very blunt with his compliments. If he thinks you look good, he will voice it; “You look particularly delightful today.”
⊹ L Lawliet likes to leave faint marks on your body to claim you as his, but only in places where they cannot typically be seen. For instance, on your chest, waistline or thighs.
⊹ L Lawliet likes to place his head on your lap as he lays across the sofa. He won’t ask for it, but L enjoys when you gently stroke his hair while in this position; he finds it comforting. Occasionally, if he’s been working on a big case, he’ll fall asleep in this position since he’s not sleeping for long at night. L will feign cluelessness if you bring it up, though.
⊹ L Lawliet’s appreciation for sweets eventually makes its way into the bedroom. He takes joy in licking whipped cream and frosting off of your body.
⊹ L Lawliet isn’t big on physical affection, yet he favours mindlessly holding your hand while you both work on a case.
⊹ L Lawliet has surprisingly high body temperature and uses it to warm you up when the office gets chilly. He’ll pull up his chair next to you and lightly hold his shoulder to yours without saying a word.
⊹ L Lawliet often forgets to take care of himself when invested in a case. Due to this, you kindly remind him to do self care tasks, like take a shower or brush his hair. Sometimes the only way to convince L to do so is by promising to do it with him or for him.
⊹ L Lawliet subtly, yet knowingly, teases you throughout the day to build anticipation. He’ll slowly lick his lips while maintaining eye contact, then abruptly resume working as if nothing happened.
⊹ L Lawliet only shares his sweet treats with you. It’s a form of intimacy that isn’t understood by most, but he trusts that you do understand how much it means to him.
⊹ L Lawliet takes comfort in hearing your heartbeat or feeling your pulse points with his fingers. He finds that focusing in on it calms him down more than other traditional methods.
• L rarely initiates cuddling first. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s busy overthinking whether she’d get embarrassed. He waits for very obvious signals… which she would never give voluntarily.
• Reader pretends she doesn’t want affection. And L, being L, gently calls her out “Your body language suggests otherwise.” She has a flustered denial talking about how its not true.
• When she finally sits near him, L just quietly shifts closer until their shoulders toouch. She turns pink and complains but doesn’t move away. (she swears its because he's warms)
• She acts annoyed when he pulls her into a cuddle, but her hands awkwardly hover before stiffly resting around him like “Fineee...but only because you look cold or whatever.”
•L always has to deduce when she feels like cuddling. Reader refuses to tell him she wants to cuddle. Once he tried to see how she would act if he didnt approach, that resulted with her ignoring him for an hour.
•L loves how warm she is. He’s basically a human space heater’s biggest fan. He will cling like a koala during long research nights.
• Despite being shy about affection, she’s weirdly protective when he falls asleep against her. Anyone entering the room gets the death glare. Watari is an exception though (she likes Watari and so does L, reader won't say she does).
•L finds her flustered reactions calming. He thinks the contrast between her prickly words and gentle actions is “statistically endearing.”
creds to @strangergraphics-archive for the dividers and they come frome here
You were with L in the couch of your house and you feeding him chocolate cacke and strawberries in his mouth. L seems very happy that you feed him he loves you doing cute things to him.
You said to him staring at his big pretty eyes "I love you Lawliet". L smiles and stares at your eyes with love. You start kissing his lips even though he has some chocolate in them and he grabs you gently and starts kissing you passionately.
"I love you too princess" he said the moment he allows you to breath.
You don't hesitate you start kissing his cheeks and his neck softly. You truly love him you are so passionate with him. He hugs you and cuddles with you. He let's you put your head in his shoulder and he starts telling you funny stories to make you laugh.
"You know iam thinking maybe i should work less and spent more time with you, i think iam going to do it." He says.
"I want you to do what makes you happy above all my love" you reply
"You make me happy, only you" he said to you and started kissing you softly in your cheeks and then your lips."
After some kisses you both are very tired and decided to sleep cuddling.
