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my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction · 15 hours ago

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L Lawliet x Reader pt. 22: the Billionaire and the Prostitute

Wowza, another chapter! This one is a little fluffier, I think, so I hope you enjoy!

you spent three hours getting ready. Three hours to put on your classiest dress, do your hair, do your makeup, accessorize, put on your perfume, and become all-around show-stopping. You were going to show everyone just how vain and self-centered you are, as a final "fuck you" to your mom. Her image as the perfect woman and mother would finally collapse. The perfect plan. All you had to do was show up, and make a daring announcement.

"Look at me everyone! I'm a prostitute!"

Or something to that effect.

The doorbell rang, and you hurried down the stairs. That must be L, ready to watch thing 1 and thing 2.

Said cats followed you to the door, Romeo hopping to the windowsill to look outside. His nemesis.

You nudge juliet away with your foot as you open the door. "Hey," you sigh, "I hope it's not too much troub- woah, you look like shit."

His skin was somehow paler, tinted green and sunken around his eyes and cheeks.

"It's a...light cold," he excuses, stepping into the house. His voice was nasal, stuffed up from phlegm and snot.

"A light cold? Do I look stupid?" You lead him to the couch, cats in tow.

"Not particularly."

"Sit. You look like you're dying."

He sits down, a wobble to his knees, and Jules jumps into his lap.

"I'm surprised Watari let you leave the penthouse like this." You stare down at him, hands on hips. He stares up at you, as if your concern is somehow an overreaction.

"I'm not so ill that I cannot function. I'm already here."

You frown. He was right, having him travel again when he was so...bleh, was probably worse than having him stay here.

"Do you have a fever?"

"...no."

"Liar," you scoff. His eyes narrow. Your hand slides beneath his bangs, pressing to his forehead. "Tsk, you're burning up! You should have just called and stayed home."

"This is important to you."

"Not as-" not as important as you. That...wouldn't come out right. It wasn't in that sense, not exactly what you meant. "It's not that important. Can you eat? Have you slept?"

"I assure you, I'm fine."

You sigh, and shake your head.

"You're running late."

You check your watch. You were running late. You look at him. His big, watery eyes, and his irritated pout. Then, to the watch again. If you left now, you'd be fashionably late. To him again. He'd have to stay awake and alert to properly watch the cats the whole time. He couldn't make himself anything, you doubted he could cook. He'd just have to sit here and...suffer, all afternoon.

You groan, and bury your face in your hands. This wasn't fair at all. "Fine. Fine fine fine fine," you grumble.

He tilts his head.

"Gimme a second."

You run upstairs, Romeo following closely, Juliet happy in L's lap. You return moments later, purse discarded in your room, with a medicine bottle. You sit down next to him, pour the medicine in a measuring spoon, and hold it out to him. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Candy."

He gives you a side-long glance, not appreciating your sarcasm.

"Take it."

He sighs, and takes the spoon from you. He already knows the flavor would be terrible. His nose crinkles in disgust, but he gulps down the liquid anyway. He erupts in a coughing fit, from both the viscosity and his own disdain.

"There there. You need a nap."

"I'm not a child."

"Come on, you're going in the guest bedroom."

You stand, and push him to his feet. As soon as he's up, you guide him up the stairs by his shoulders.

"What about your cats?"

"I'll watch them." You open the spare room door.

"What about-"

"I'm taking care of you, you idiot. Lay down."

He sits on the edge of the bed, and stares at you. He didn't...believe you. Not quite. There must be an alternative reason.

You cross your arms. "You don't get sick often, do you?"

"I haven't been sick since my childhood."

"Yeah. This is what people do when they ca-....when they..."

His brows raise. Oh. This was a new development. He lays on his side, crashing to the bed with a pillowy woosh. "I see."

You tap your foot. On one hand, he's listening now. On the other...you didn't like the kind of conclusions he might be drawing. "whatever, just...try to get some sleep."

You practically stomp out of the room. He rolls onto his back. He was tired. He could close his eyes for a few minutes, to appease you. Then, he would get out of your hair, and go home to be properly gross by expelling various fluids until he was half-dead.

He closes his eyes, just for a second. Then, a smell wafts in. Salty, and warm. He didn't like salty things, he didn't make a point to eat them...but this smelled particularly appealing.

The door cracks open, and an eye peers at him from the space.

"Hello."

"...hello," you say slowly, pushing the door open the rest of the way. Your clothes changed, what used to be a flashy black dress was now a hot pink tank top and some sweatpants. You had a bowl in your hand, and a silver spoon. "How'd you sleep?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been sleeping for..." you check your watch, you never bothered to take it off. "4 hours."

"...I see. What is that?"

"Soup. Family recipe."

You walk over...and hesitate. He sits upright, supported by one arm. Finally, you sit yourself on the bed, between his arm and his legs, and offer him the bowl. He takes it with his free hand, and examines the liquid. It was thin and clear, with bits of onion and other herbs shining through. L breathes in the scent, and rests his chin on your shoulder. "Thank you."

This was one of the few times he's touched you without some sort of consent. You've cuddled plenty, had sex of course, but that was all expected hours beforehand. This was unexpected touch. Intimate, and a little needy. You allowed it, but only because he was sick.

"Just eat your soup."

He smiles, and pulls away to support himself on the headboard. You turn around, and watch as he brings shakey spoonfuls of soup to his lips. Eventually, he gives up, and sets the spoon aside to sip from the bowl itself.

"How is it?"

"...Nourishing," he decides.

"I know you don't eat this kind of stuff, but-"

"I appreciate your care."

"...you sound like you're drowning in mucus, you need to blow your nose."

He looks to the bedside table, and plucks a tissue from the small, designated box.

You watch as he de-gunks his face, to little avail. You grab a mini-trashcan from the floor, and hold it out. He tosses the tissue.

"You said this was a family recipe?"

"My- my mom's, yep," you murmur.

He nods slowly. "It's good."

"...yeah, well. Bad people do good things sometimes."

"Was she?"

"Hm?"

"Was she a bad person?"

You keep your eyes to the floor. "Maybe. Yes- well, not-" you sigh- "I don't know. She loved me, I think. And my dad. But she wasn't very good at it."

He sets his bowl aside. "Did she do things like this for you?"

"Sometimes. When I was really little, yeah. When I was older, I didn't get sick days."

"But you'd do this for me? Despite having other plans?"

You smile, and roll your eyes a little. "I believe in sick days. Today was supposed to be like...a big middle finger to her. But I guess now I'm as close to being a nurse as I've ever been, so really I'm just doing what she wants...or, wanted."

"...you're doing something she wouldn't have."

You shrug. "I guess. Did the cold medicine work earlier?"

"I'm...not taking any more of it."

"Really?"

"No."

"Aw." You stand, and pat his head. "It was in the soup. Sweet dreams, idiot."

He watches as you walk away, leaving him to conk out at any given moment. Evil.

This time, he felt like he had been resting. He felt much better when he woke up. The cold chills left, the twisting of his stomach, the endless fever. Everything has improved. He stirs, and finds a weight on his chest shift.

Juliet, purring on top of him. He pats the cat's head, and decides he would lay here for a while longer.

His plans are foiled when you walk in, and distract the creature enough to make her jump off and skitter out. "Oh, good, you're awake."

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"Mm, like 8 hours. It's 9 PM." Romeo weaved between your feet, settling in front of you like a gargoyle protecting his fortress. A very tiny gargoyle. "Jules has been here for a while, I let her in a few hours ago and she's been sleeping with you since."

"I've been here for far too long," L murmurs, sitting upright.

"Watari called earlier to ask about you, but he seemed understanding when I told him."

"Ah." He could already imagine that knowing, pleased expression he would pull when L would next see him. It was extremely annoying.

"Thank you again, for your care."

"...no problem. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, much better."

"Do you want me to call Watari?"

"There's no need." L takes out his own phone, and calls him. He has him on speed dial, why bother making you call?

You step out, and sigh. Romeo follows closely behind. You pick him up, and press a kiss to his forehead. "You're the sweetest thing," you croon, carrying him off to the living room.

L emerges from the guest room soon after, padding down the stairs. Romeo immediately sits at attention in your lap, watching L with intense focus from the couch.

"Watari will be here in an hour."

"Still feeling better?"

"Yes."

"Want to watch TV with me?"

"...sure."

You spent the rest of the hour watching a different jdrama (the last one wasn't on at this time), and enjoying each other's presence. Yet again, you were getting too comfortable.

When L's phone dinged, you knew he had to go. "See you around," you shrug.

"I'll call on you before my trip, no matter your decision," he assures.

You nod, and watch as Juliet spills from L's lap, already following as if she could go with him. He makes sure to keep her from escape.

The second he's out, you sigh, and lay back on the couch. Jules, dejected, settles between your legs, while Romeo takes your stomach. "Do you think I should go," you mutter, scratching behind the obtrusive ears of your boy-cat. He lets out a purr at the contact. "Not helpful."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh- excuse me, sir, is there where (Y/n) (L/n) lives?"

L examines the older woman. She was wearing the gaudiest makeup and jewelry, accompanied by a floral dress and an...attention-grabbing hat. She was also holding a thick envelope, labeled with your name. She didn't seem like a threat...but many threats disguise themselves as less-than so.

"Do you have business with her?" He sounded shorter with her than he intended, but he was still a little sick, and she was currently in the way of Watari's limo.

"I'm her aunt, I was just dropping off her inheritance and such, from the death you know."

This woman was not very cautious with your information.

"She does live here. I can take any items to her."

"If you don't mind, I'll do it myself." She eyes him like he's some criminal, and brushes past him for your door.

Alright then.

He heads for the limo, but the moment he gets in he orders Watari to wait. He wants to be sure you're alright, just in case this is some elaborate ploy.

The woman rings your doorbell, and you answer in seconds.

"L- oh. Hi, um-"

"Your mama left this for you, thought I'd bring it by," she says, her words so sugary you almost feel as sick as L.

"...thanks, aunt-"

"This is a nice place you got here. Do you know that man in your driveway?"

You laugh, just a little. Typical of her, never letting you get a word in. "Thank you, and yes, I know him."

"Is that your neighbor?"

You glance around. You were the only house here, you obviously didn't have neighbors. "No ma'am..."

"Your accountant then?"

Since when do accountants come to you? "Not that either."

"So then...is he your..." she leans in, whispering conspiratorially. "Boyfriend?"

"Umm..." so badly did you want to shout out "nope! Just a guy I fuck for cash!" Before you can even attempt to ruin your mom's lasting reputation once more, your aunt speaks over you.

"I just hope he's got better genes somewhere in there. Between you and me, you can do so much better than that, sweetheart. You're not with him for money, are you? You know eventually, he'll want a baby, and there's no telling how that'll go-"

"I'm doing just fine," you interrupt, matching her saccharin tone. "Between you and me-" you pluck the letter from her hand- "he's hung like a horse, so I've got nothing to worry about."

You gently push the door shut, right in her gaping face, and grin. Finally, shock value!

L watches, unable to see anything other than your expressions. If he could see your mouth past that hat, he'd be able to read your lips...but the woman doesn't move until the door closes. He decides all is well once she begins to waddle back to her car, and signals for watari to leave.

You look down at the letter in your hand, flip it over a couple times....

And decide to deal with it in the morning. Something about it gave you a sinking feeling, and you wanted to preserve your peace, for now.

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