hiii. I mostly post my writing on here. I love to talk so feel free to request or give me series or fic ideas. just turned 21. this isn't really a nsfw blog but I don't mind writing some if asked 111.
You bring up the idea of L using you to distress. He agrees. Absolute filth follows.
: ÌÌâ l lawliet x gn!reader
: ÌÌâ cw: smut (pretty obvious), heavy degradation, slight praise, breeding, slapping, slight cum eating, being called pretty little thing and slut, reader is a freak for L
: ÌÌâ wc: 1000+
: ÌÌâ a/n: two posts in a week, who would have guessed. anyways please enjoy the degenerate activities here.Â
L positions you in the way he wants, pulls you up by your throat, long fingers curling around constricting your breaths, until your body is pressed against his, as his hips snap against the fat of your ass causing a âpap papâ sound to echo throughout your room.Â
Heâs relentless in his search for pleasure, paying you no mind, as his hand begins to squeeze your throat, the other snakes its way to seize your hip in a bruising grip, and hot pants and low grunts escape his chapped lips as they brush against your ear. Your mind turns to mush, no longer able to distinguish pain and pleasure as it creates a sinful mix tricking you into begging for more. All that comes out is a series of babbles, drool dripping down onto your chest, and L smugly laughs at your pathetic self. Too drunk off this moment to say or do anything as he bends you over, forcing your head into a pillow, to hit that sweet spongy spot inside. You let out a scream of delight as if he understood your pleads, and in return clench around his cock deliciously. He lets out another grunt, deep from within his chest, and smacks your ass letting the sting linger before smacking it again with just as much force. It sends your body jolting forward, too much for your broken mind to handle, and you try to squirm from his grasp, but he drags you back to where you belong. Taking his cock like you were made for this, made to be ruined by him.Â
Muffled mewls and a feeble excuse of thrusting yourself back on his dick makes his mind lose focus. Normally crippled by the weight of his cases, L kneels taller now, filled with thoughts of fucking you full. He pulls out, just kissing your hole with his flushed tip, until ramming himself back in, setting a brutal pace on your body. You couldnât be more delighted.Â
It was your idea to help him distress. A method, other than eating a concerning amount of sweets, to relax him.Â
You picked at the threads on your sweater as you watched him reach for another stack of macarons after downing two boxes. His fingers danced across his keyboard, quickly typing out a report in some language you canât discern, before he spots you shyly inching over.Â
L stuffs a strawberry macaron in his mouth before asking âwoulâ âoâ âike oâeâ offering you a vanilla one.Â
âNo itâs okayâ you say trying to hide a chuckle bubbling its way out. âI was actually wondering how your job is going.â
He continues to violently chew, â âquiâe âell,â he swallows thickly, âwhy do you ask?â
âWell,â you peer down to your socks, rubbing your toes against the carpet, âI was just worried if you were stressed. Youâve eaten almost three boxes of those.â
âSugar keeps the brain awake,â he states matter-of-factly as he goes to grab another one.
Your hand stops his, holding it in place, and he looks up to you slightly confused with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth. Heâs trying to read you.
âMaybe you should rest a while. Let your brain reset, you know?â His gaze shifts to his laptop. The report is nearly finished, and it has been weeks since he could sleep for more than an hour. He can never fully rest on a job like he can when heâs with you. His mind is plagued by images of known friends and nameless faces calling him, but you keep them at bay. Perhaps resting will do him some good.Â
His voice softens to barely a whisper, âthat would be good,â until he corrects himself âthen I can continue working.â
âIâll help you distress.â
L starts to get ready for bed, gingerly changing into his pjâs which really only consists of taking off his pants, and begins to slip into bed until he notices your apprehensive self still standing at the doorway. âWhatâs wrong?â
âOh. Nothing, nothing,â but you still remain at the door.
His eyes squint in suspicion, letting silence question you instead of him. You quickly relent. âI mean⊠Well I feel bad now.â
More silence.
You sigh, frustrated at the fact your will power breaks so easily for him. âI was going to ask if you wanted to have sex to distress, but then you were actually going to sleep and now-â
âI would very much like to have sex with you.âÂ
â-I feel like an asshole- wait what?â
âI said I would like to have sex.â
The air in the room turns thick with the smell of sweat and sex cut by your pornagraphic moans, and Lâs harsh pants, and the sound of his heavy balls hitting your ass.Â
The position he has you in makes him hit even deeper than you could imagine, leaving you incapable of moving let alone thinking, but no need to think. A pretty little thing like you doesnât need to think when you have L as your lover. He knows what you need is to be a good little slut and take his cum.
Your hoarse voice says ââis too much. Canât take it.â between moans, legs shaking underneath Lâs thighs.
He accentuates each word with a thrust. âYes.â âYou.â âCan.â forcing the bed frame to hit the wall.Â
He bends over your hunched frame, lips leaving sloppy wet kisses against your neck until he reaches your neck and he whispers âbe good for me,â and you cum.
Stars dance around the corner of your vision as a soundless scream escapes you, and your hole tightens around Lâs cock making him hiss. He drops to his elbows, succumbing to only shallow thrusts until itâs all too much and he cums filling your hole and pushing it back in with his cock. He stays until he softens and falls out, and his eyes fall on your thighs. His cum is smeared across your inner thighs, dripping down between your ass and on to the bed. He scoops it back up and pushes it in, not wanting to waste a single drop, and you moan at the intrusion.Â
He takes his cum covered fingers to your parted lips, already familiar with routine, and you wrap them around his fingers, tongue swirling to get every last bit. You release them with a âpop,â eyes waiting patiently for your reward, and he obliges, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue.Â
He gets up to get a towel and begins to get you cleaned up, kissing each bruise he left, and massaging your sore limbs.Â
âYou did so well for me.â
âWould you say youâre sufficiently relaxed?â
âYes, very relaxed. Thank you.â
He kisses your head, and tucks you into bed smiling to himself. How he ever got you to be his lover, he will never know, but he is forever grateful you are.
itâs always so funny to me when fanfic writers have like kids and spouses cause girl I promise you your baby does not care about your Satoru Gojo fic about him shoving a wine bottle up your ass
mostly fluff, when your husband would rather call you his favorite anomaly than say âI love you.â
(a/n: I put a cat gif because I think being married to L would be a lot like with a cat who just wonât leave you alone.)
Heâd sometimes just⊠stare at you. When youâre sitting next to him, after you kiss him goodbye for work. Or sometimes, whenever heâs deep in thought, his eyes lock onto you as if you are the one who stimulates his brain the most. Maybe heâs staring at you because he canât believe that heâs with someone â not just anyone, but you. He canât believe it. Or maybe heâs just hungry. Either way, he has a bit of a staring problem.
Youâd be stacked for LIFE. Canonically, L has vast amounts of wealth from consulting and no real expenses beyond absurd amounts of sugar and monitors. Heâd quietly pay off anything you care about in an instant if you asked, but roll his eyes if you ever tried to be a martyr and say, âwell I donât want you to spend a lot of money on me :((((â Youâd basically never have to spend money ever again. Heâd spoil you if you asked.
Very loyal to a fault. He has neither the time nor the energy to cheat on you. Once he likes you, youâd become one of the 3â4 humans that heâd tolerate on a day-to-day basis; that puts you in an ultra-exclusive club.
He isnât very flashy when showing affection. He shows love through actions: remembering tiny details about you (down to which brand of lip balm you prefer), making sure your favorite snacks are restocked before you even notice they're low, or suddenly appearing with an extra hoodie when you're cold. Physical touch ramps up slowly but intensely once he's comfortable â expect a lot of leaning against you while working, fingers hooked in your sleeve, or him draping himself over your back like a sleepy cat. And on the regular, when heâs more comfortable, he might be a bit bold and just lean on you. Like literally, heâd walk up behind you and put his entire body weight on your back and expect you to let him sleep there until youâre finished.
He likes to pull you places. When he wants to show you something, heâll walk over to you and pull you over by your arm, or when heâs feeling particularly bold, by the waistband. He just wants attention, but when you plant your feet down and ask why heâs pulling you, heâll say âcomeâ quietly and pull you further.
He prefers proximity. And that could be in any way, shape, or form to him. Sitting together while you read and he works, heâll be happy to be in the same room as you. Heâll pull you into his lap while he works so he can feel your body heat on him; heâs naturally cold due to his shitty health, so you warm him up.
Pet names are very rare and most likely not said aloud. The ones that he does say aloud are always weird, but heâs trying; give him a break.
"My dear colleague in existence, you," said with unusual softness, or occasionally just your name in that low, serious tone that makes your stomach flip. In his head, he refers to you as âmy anomaly.â Always âmyâ thrown in somewhere because he likes to be reminded that he is yours and you are indefinitely his.
Heâs very protective. Some might say overprotective, but thereâs nothing wrong with installing a tracking device in your wifeâs phone so you can monitor her at all times, he says. You'd have security you never see, contingency plans for your safety he updates constantly, and he'd drop everything if you were ever in real danger.
Like I mentioned before, sitting in his lap while he reviews evidence or whatever he does works because he doesnât sleep. Sleep schedule? What sleep schedule? He operates on 2â4 hour naps. You'd adapt or live in opposite time zones in the same house. He has a âperfectâ system heâs crafted so he can stay awake for 100 hours and sleep for only 6â17, which is also labeled as self-imposed insomnia, but donât get so technical about it.
His eating habits are food-stamp poor. Breakfast is strawberry cake, lunch is strawberry cake, and dinner is strawberry cake⊠with some tea on the side to balance it out. You know, gotta balance those calories! If you cook normal food, he'll eat it⊠But only after drowning it in syrup or whipped cream. Many spouses end up in a lifelong battle to sneak vegetables into the diet of a 25-year-old man with the metabolism of the average hummingbird.
Dates are usually what heâd consider a âdate,â which likely means staying in and eating takeout with him and letting him steal your food, unless heâll drone on and on about âspousal property rights.â
Heâs not very socially aware of whatâs considered normal. He doesnât care, that is, but that also means he doesnât know what to do a lot of the time. So to you, itâs always a small victory whenever heâs more bold and decides to link your pinky into his in public or put his hand on your thigh at home. He thinks that this is âmax seductionâ and gets confused when you smile instead of getting his incredibly vague hints and start kissing him.
He'd be a deeply unconventional, high-maintenance, low-drama husband. You'd feel simultaneously like the most important person in the world to someone who barely tolerates most of humanity⊠and like you're married to an extremely intelligent cat who pays the bills and occasionally remembers to kiss your forehead at dawn.
(which in my opinion is right up my alley!!) okay!! This is one of my first of these things; I believe I characterized him well.
(semi proofread)
âĄïžHere are some things I like
IM ALSO A GIRL <3
âą Demon slayer
âą a silent voice
âą jjk
âą Kiki's delivery service
...
Hiii !! (âââĄââ)ïŸ I write fanfics and stuff, I came here to promote them because I spend a lot of time writing and thinking about them. They are Lx readers and I take requests on what other characters to write :p Hereâs some L as your boyfriend things
L as Your Boyfriend: Accurate Edition đ·ïž
(for girls who goon to this man every night)
đ„ Will not kiss you with his mouth full but will hand-feed you his last strawberry because âI know you prefer them sweeter and I already took the sourest one. You may thank me now.â
đ»Â Stares at security footage of you like itâs art. Not in a âhaha heâs a creepâ way but in a âyour bakery door just opened half an inch and he rewound the tape 3x to watch your hair moveâ way. He calls it âdata retention.â You call it âforeplay.â
đ«§Â Would never say âI love youâ first. Heâll say things like âStatistically, I would be 78% more compromised if something happened to you,â and youâll take that and cry about it in the bath like a normal person.
đ§Â Always brings back your dessert order wrong (on purpose). Claims itâs for variety. You know itâs because he wants to see how cute you look when you throw a napkin at him.
đ You canât make out for more than 45 seconds before he tries to solve a logic problem aloud. You still let him because his voice in your ear mid-kiss does things to you.
đ§  Hyperfixates on the texture of your lip balm and casually brings it up during murder investigations. âYes, Light, itâs relevant. The suspect had strawberry gloss, like Y/Nâs. Continue.â
đȘ Loves physical affection in theory, panics in practice. You brush his hair off his face and he freezes like a SIM whose path got blocked by furniture. He melts after five seconds though.
đ€Â His love language is quiet consistency. You didnât even know he loved you until you saw your name as an emergency contact. Then he mumbled, âYouâre the only one Iâd trust to delete my browser history.â
đ§Â Steals your drinks. Constantly. Doesnât ask. Doesnât look at you. Just leans over, sips your soda, and says nothing. Leaves you emotionally ruined every time.
đȘŠÂ Wants to be buried next to you but will never say that out loud. Will just tell Watari, in passing, âMake sure sheâs taken care of. Whatever happens.â
đ§ââïžÂ Is a little bit perverted in a repressed, tragic way. Heâs thought about you. Like that. And then eaten six sugar cubes in shame and stared at a wall for an hour.
Man now looking back the way I made this it looks like AI. (2026 update)