Corruption (Yandere Various x Reader)

Yandere! L Lawliet x Reader /Irrational/

A/N: Once again, apologizes for taking so long. It can't be helped. So at last here is the next update.

The distinct smell of soap always seemed to linger in the apartment, with a sweet nuance underlying it. It was simply everywhere and it had slowly started to cling to you, a further sign that you had been here far too long.

There were few solaces from the scent however, like the odour of yellowing paper as you opened a book to read and pass the slow-ticking hours. It is not as if he allowed you to do much anyway, so you savoured the time he wasn't by your side with a good novel. Occasionally you glanced up to check the time or to stare down onto the busy streets of Tokyo.

You frowned every time you caught yourself gazing out to the city, when the yearning for the outside world made your heart ache. Shaking your head you resumed your reading time and time again, telling yourself such wistful thinking was futile. Books at the very least, represented a sort of escape from the wretched reality, taking you to worlds where you were freer than you ever could be.

The door swung open without a warning, no turn of a key or a knock, rendering you startled since he was home earlier than usual. He didn't bother locking the door; he never did, for a fact not even when he left you alone.

A mere bystander would have advised you to bolt out of the door as soon as the opportunity arose; you had also thought so in the beginning. Over time however, you had painfully learned how futile such attempts were. Leaving the flat unsecured was his way of testing you, your escapes providing a twisted sort of entertainment. Even though he despised it when you tried to leave him he couldn't deny the thrill he felt each time he hunted you down, each time he analysed what you had learned from the last time.

L slouched from the entrance way to the living room after kicking off his shoes. Naturally his eyes landed on you, a sting of envy fluttering through him and eyeing the book in your hands he remarked: "Reading Sherlock again?"

Like everything he said it was issued in the same monotone voice but you weren't deceived. But why should you care about the way he prided himself being the best of the best as long as it didn't affect you severely. In the end it was just petty how he regarded even a fictional character as a rival. Still you were aware how he'd be unbearable for the rest of the evening due to the little scratch to his ego.

However, knowing better than to push your luck any further you stowed the book any and stood up. All this time you realised well what was expected of you however it didn't prevent you insides from churning.

Approaching him you gingerly draped your arms over his shoulders and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek.

"Welcome home dear."

In a way you were proud of yourself that you could now say such pet names without choking or your voice sounding too wooden.

In return he wrapped his wiry arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest. Black hair tickled your skin as its owner nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, the breath fanning over you causing you to unwittingly tense. Such behaviour on his behalf never failed to provoke such a reaction from you.

Every single affectionate gesture from him, be it a kiss, sweet words murmured with shyness or loving touches, seemed forceful or fake, the actions either soulless or with such endearing desperateness that they were suffocating. There was no middle ground.

After what seemed to be hours he let you go. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you by the way he stared at your lips; thankfully he refrained. Instead he pulled back, black eyes studying you with such intensity as if they could peer into your very soul as if he could filter out all your secrets and flaws and sins.