#death note reader insert

[running-with-kn1ves]

Exhaustion

A/N: Hey I should be working on everything BUT this. do NOT blame my ass if this is ooc (I can't handle criticism and I'm aware :,>)

PART 1

L Lawliet Yandere! X GN! Reader

TW: Stalking, breaking and entering, obsessive thoughts/behaviors, nonconsensual touching

It was an invasion of privacy; he knew that. It was against everything he stood for, what he strived to prevent-- an act familiar to the criminals he faced. And yet, he had no inclination to turn away, to retreat from your blackened bedroom and leave you alone in the dark. 

There was something comforting about how silent you slept. Even with your body sprawled out like a crooked starfish, with your legs tangled in sheets and clothes wrinkled, you were in pure sleepful delight. A nuclear bomb could go off outside and this little sliver of the world would remain untouched, your eyes so gentle and shut, with soft eyelashes falling against your cheeks as if it were nothing, as if an angel hadn’t fallen asleep on the softest patch of grass away from the rest of the world.

L observed you from a distance, brazen enough to take your desk chair and sit in his peculiar way as a spectator. He did not dare to disturb the sanctified corner that was your bed-laden body. 

You breathed in heavily, a quick heave through your nose that developed into a great exhale of pure exhaustion. It didn’t take a genius to see the weight witnessing your professor’s death left on you; L forgot how distressing morbidity could be for those not used to it, those who had not studied gruesome photos and rewinded videos of countless hours in crime and death. 

You shift just slightly to sling an arm over your face, the streetlight beaming in through your window and casting a glow on your eyes and hair. It made you shine which in any instance would have been mesmerizing, but currently it threatened to expose the felony your stalker was committing. 

Wobbling out of the desk chair with a catlike stare, L watched for movement as the chair creaked. His light, barefooted steps reached the curtains with a swiftness not expected of someone so gaunt. Your bedroom was curtained in complete darkness as his eyes adjusted, seeing the way your shirt rode up to expose just above your belly button, the sheets lined between your legs as you remained spread out, peaceful. It was an odd fascination he had come to realize-- not like one he had for solving crimes and convoluted mysteries, but a pleasant and simple interest in each little reaction you had. From the twitching of the tips of your fingers at times, to the way you’d swallow if your mouth was open for too long. 

Most especially the different vocalizations you made, from snore-like grunts, to hums and sighs of pleasure as your back cooled against the linen. L intended to return back to his place of distant observation, feeling a lump the size of a plum seed burrowing in his chest as he imagined you waking.

Oddly enough however, your skin caught his eye. So unbothered and untouched, barely hidden by the white background you laid upon. Human bodies were a tricky, messy thing; purely biological, and often betraying our more advanced mental capacity for what was right and wrong. But yours… Even beneath that flesh being bone and muscle and meat, it looked… right.

This must be the ‘aesthetic’ that draws so many people in, why love and lust are so often confused… L did not need to dwell on the idea to recognize this was one of the few ‘firsts’ for him.You were by no means exempt from his cynicism or brutal comprehension-- but something here spoke more to him than mere logistical sense. It was appreciation, interest.

What did you feel like, what would parts of you taste like? 

A pale, spindly hand reached out to you, gracing the exposed flesh of your midsection. You were hot to the touch, near burning; or perhaps he was just so freezingly cold. It wasn’t enough to disturb you out of sleep, just enough to send a shiver up your chest at the iciness. L’s hand found comfort resting there, his palm against the soft flesh as it rose and fell along with your chest. 

Dare he… lift his hand higher, hand jaggedly moving up to the middle of your ribcage, slowly disappearing under your shirt. It was warm there, against the heat of your skin and the air trapped against your pajamas; his palm buzzed with a kind of painless sting. 

Gracing the smooth ridges of skin, L’s fingers moved, almost in a ticklish motion as each pad searched to understand what allured him so much, what kept him here, drawing in his desperation to understand. Above all else L was an investigator, one with the all encompassing desire to expose the truth. He felt closer to an answer when he was near you, as if he could touch the reason why he was infatuated with you-- but still, he couldn’t make sense of it. There was no answer to be found, none that would satisfy him enough to leave you alone. 

You unconsciously push your shirt down with a limp hand, drawing away from the cold air creeping up your stomach.

L sharply pulls his hand away, a look of surprise almost making its way to his face. His hand stood outstretched, curled and hovering from above as he watched you shift to lay on your side. 

The anticipation keeps him alert, wondering if this will be the moment your snores turn to a panicked scream. The room is quiet, drifting… the perfect environment for a deep rest, no clear indication of a gangly body watching from the edge of your bed. Your phone occasionally lights up on the nightstand silently; it takes a wrongful amount of force to prevent L from picking it up. 

He could attempt to delude himself into thinking he was just watching over a witness, protecting you from whatever violently lurked in the shadows; whether it be Kira, or an unfriendly fly. Even going so far as to say the reason he adjusted your sheets and lingered his fingers over your hot forehead were to keep you warm, unbothered. 

 But there was no lying to himself, that immoral feeling wouldn’t be dissuaded so easily. And L wasn’t stupid enough to try and pretend he didn’t know what he was.  

The detective retook his seat in the desk chair, finding comfort in the distance between it and your mattress. This way, no movement of his would deter you from the unconsciousness he hoped to keep you in; though, was it truly for your benefit, or for his? His sunken eyes wander, grazing the soft darkness shrouding your silhouette. 

Bringing his chin to his knees, L busied himself with thoughts of what you’d look like when you woke up, how you’d act all sleepily in the morning, and if you’d be just as forgetful tomorrow as you were tonight in leaving your windows unlocked. 

[mullermilkshake]

My list of all the darkness in my brain. Yandere/Dark one shots and some longer parts.

Any crossed out are ones to come ❤️

Satoru Gojo

You break up with him. (Part 1,2,3)

He's the Phantom.

He uses your cursed energy against you.

Satoru is a one of a kind android.

You can't be shared, Satoru wants you all to himself.

One hard demon. (Part 1,2,3)

Photographer Satoru.

If he can't have you, he'll simply burst. (Canon divergence)

Satoru has a stalker.

He's gaga over you, he'll burn the world down if you let him.

SatoKenSugu

Satoru killed you, but you came back.

He's lust, the others are just as deadly.

Satoru is taking annoyance to the extreme.

Jinwoo Sung

He volunteers for the good of the association. (Multiple parts)

Suguru Geto

He's a Doctor.

The average day of an android.

Is it really Suguru?

Suguru has to fight his friend over you.

He's one third of a three way Yandere!group keeping you.

Suguru makes a bad decision.

Nanami Kento

You try to get away form him. (Part 1,2,3)

He stole you away.

Next door neighbour.

He's a curator of a museum (Part 1,2,-)

Kento looks for his soulmate.

He's the sensible one in this dark fourway tie.

Kento gets to know you while Gojo hangs about. You want to kill the white haired asshole.

Toji Fushiguro

A seance gone wrong.

He hunts you in the forest.

Choso Kamo

Prince!Choso. (Part 1,2)

He's a mafia man. (Part 1,2,-)

Oh Sangwoo

He takes your contraception away.

You could have left.

Sangwoo turns your dreams into nightmares.

You trap him.

He makes Yoon Bum join in.

Ainosuke Shindo (Adam)

You sweet little housekeeper.

He gifts you a rose, just take it.

Yoon Bum

Yoon Bum has been stalking you.

He touches you.

He's forced to join.

L (Death note)

He likes to experiment

Hiromi Higuruma

Hiromi only wants to protect you.

He loves his pregnant girlfriend. (Part 1,2,-)

Is he your Hiromi?

Pariston Hill

You'll never be free with that matrimonial chain on your ankle.

You do your best to evade him.

Levi Ackerman

His vampire life takes its toll.

He'll do everything to find you.

Levi's name is imprinted in your mind, he'll never leave.

A married man's secrets.

The emergency room is dangerous.

Hisoka

A closet without a skeleton.

He and Illumi are looking for you (Part 1,2,-)

Soichiro Yagami

He's adamant that he'll find Kira.

Your stepdad is crazy.

Kiyotaka Ijichi

Fake love

There must be two of him.

Masamichi Yaga

You're just a living doll.

Atsuya Kusakabe

A boat ride and he's stealthy about it.

Furuta Nimura

Sebastian Michaelis

Reiner Braun.

Ging Freecs

Illumi Zoldyck

Kurapika

Mahito

Can't find the specific font, it's called 'messy handwritten' if anyone finds it can you pleas let me know so I can link it? 😭 here is the link the the site.

[gingerteafairy]

𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙩𝙥 (𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙝𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

Rodrick tries to get your attention, even if he had to cosplay of your non canon otp.

tags n warnings: fluff, nerdy!reader, death note references, cosplay, suggestive, perv!rodrick, shy!reader. word count: 1.5k

Rodrick Heffley sort of hated you. 

Okay, not really. It wasn’t that Rodrick hated you—you weren’t fake or mean, or some weirdo who would make him cringe. You were just... well, weird. He’d totally clocked that you had a crush on him after, like, a minute. It was obvious.

The blushes when he walked by, the borderline embarrassing comments on his Instagram—it was like a neon sign. But you were cute. Annoyingly cute. With your big sunshine smiles, dorky jokes, and all that awkward eye contact whenever you bumped into each other at school. 

He gave you hell about being “weird.” But he liked it. Actually, loved it. This perv already pictured you in dozens of sexual scenarios with imaginary reactions he’d love to see. Like, would you be all shy when he took off his clothes or would you laugh if you got into some creative position? Would your glasses be foggy? He really wanted to see you with nothing but your glasses on.

You were just a girl giggling at his Instagram posts. His story, of course, featured him slumped on a museum bench, arms crossed, staring at some abstract painting like it had personally offended him. The caption? “Modern art is dead. Let me out.”

You knew better than to expect a sweet reply. It was either ghosting or snarky comebacks. Spoiler alert—you got the snarky reply.

But seeing him in person? Still the worst thing ever.

Which is exactly why you froze when you spotted him one afternoon, sitting lazily on the steps of his front porch. He looked perfectly disheveled in his black metal band shirt, one leg stretched out, his back leaned casually against the doorframe. Like a damn indie rock album cover.

Your brain screamed nope, but your feet had already carried you halfway past his house before—

"Hey, dorky.”

Rodrick’s voice broke through your panic like a needle to a balloon. You skidded to a halt, eyes wide. Slowly, you turned, clutching the strap of your bag for dear life.

“Hey…” you squeaked, adjusting your glasses.

Rodrick smirked, pushing off the steps. “You think I’m a ghost or something? You walk past here like I don’t exist.”

Your cheeks burned. “I—uh—I didn’t see you.”

“Totally believable.” Rodrick’s smirk grew. “You said you bought a Misa costume, remember? Wig and everything. And also the whole limited edition of the dolls and stuff.”

You blinked, horrified and excited at the same time.“I—I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He tilted his head, hands shoved in his pockets.

“I don't know…”

“Relax. It’s kinda sick, actually.” His gaze flicked over you like he was sizing you up. “You’d look good as Misa.”

“Really?” you jumped, clapping your hands. “I'll dress up like her everyday and I already bought her necklace.”

“You’re so awkward,” he teased, voice softer. “C’mon. What’s the rush? You’re always running past here like I’m gonna bite. Unless…”

You stared at him, unsure if your heart was about to stop or explode. “Unless…?”

“Unless you would like to get bitten by me.”

Your face turned scarlet. “Why…Why do you…?”

Rodrick rolled his eyes, turning back toward the house. “You’re impossible. I was gonna invite you in, but whatever. Get home safe.”

And with that, he disappeared inside, leaving you standing in the street, cheeks flushed, completely stunned. He just landed on the floor, stomping his head on the wall.

“Shit. I wanna see her in that outfit.” He cried out with his cheeks beet-red.

“She's so cool. Did you know she draws like a pro?" Greg cheered, watching you make your steps to your home, still confused.

“yourusername? She gave me pokemon cards for free in her parents store when I told my mother that I loved pokemon! A limited one. Pew peww.” Rowley exclaimed happily, stepping back when Rodrick stood up with a murderous look. “Uh-oh.”

Then he remembered, stopping him from the possible child murder. Only himself knew the cutie clumsy patootie you were, which made him giggle to the ground, curling his hands on the hem of his shirt.

“Ewww.” Greg hissed, frowning.

“I think your brother likes her.” Rowley smiled, walking to Greg's room, who was totally disgusted by the sight of his brother lifting his toe like a little girl.

The next week, someone invited Rodrick to a costume party. Sure, the music was decent, and someone brought a vintage vinyl player, which kept him from leaving immediately. The worst part is that you didn't come. “Socialization fear, Rod. Not my thing”. By midnight, he was leaning against a wall, phone in hand. Grinning when he saw you post you in your Misa outfit.

yourusername: “Dressing as my queen >o<.”

He wasn’t even sure why he posted a photo of himself dressed as L from Death Note. Maybe out of boredom. Maybe because he hoped you’d see it.

rodrickrockslodediper: justice will prevail.

Cheesy as hell. But effectively, you have seen it in a minute.

“God, you look so perfect.”

The message was simple—too simple for you. No silly emojis, no teasing lines. For some reason, that made him pause. And then, before he could talk himself out of it, he did something impulsive: he called you.

The line clicked after just two rings. “What the—Rodrick?”

He smirked at the sound of your flustered voice. “Didn’t think you’d answer so fast.”

“You called me,” you sputtered, nearly knocking over everything on your desk, your glasses almost broke on the floor. “What’s going on?”

“Party’s boring.” His voice was low and smooth, a little breathless. “Some kid thought I was Steve Jobs.”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my god. That’s so tragic.”

“Yeah, laugh it up, Misa Misa.” He hesitated, voice softening just slightly. “I wish you were here.”

Click.

And just like that, his status went offline before you even had time to reply. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, walking away from the party like he’d just dropped a bomb, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone.

"What the heck was that?!" you exclaimed, staring at your phone like it had grown a second head. Rodrick Heffley called to say he wanted you to be with him? That couldn’t be real.

And yet, the disbelief hit even harder when your doorbell rang. You opened the door, and there he was—smudged eyeliner and messy dark shadow to fake L’s signature tired look. Meanwhile, you were fully dressed as Misa Amane. What even was this situation?

"Good thing I made it before you ditched the cosplay," he said with a lopsided grin, still catching his breath. He had run to your house. Rodrick Heffley, running. For you.

You stood frozen, like a deer caught in headlights. Say something! Come on, say something! your brain screamed.

"Uh… Let’s... let’s go inside, Lawliet. I, uh… I have candy!" you stammered in a sweet tone, fumbling over the words. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Rodrick burst out laughing, loud and unfiltered, before slapping a hand over his mouth, trying to keep it cool. But the faint pink tint on his face gave him away. He couldn’t believe how adorable you looked, trying so hard to pull off Misa.

"What’s so funny?" you mumbled, shifting your weight awkwardly, your face heating up even more.

"Nothing..." he snorted, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as his laughter died down. "Can I come in?"

"I… My parents… They’re, uh, kinda strict about guys being here," you muttered, cringing at how childish you sounded. Why did your parents have to be like this now of all times?

Rodrick clicked his tongue and shrugged. "Oh...Okay." But then he shot you that goofy, lopsided grin again, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even if it was a little shy.

"What?" you asked, giggling softly as you played with a lock of your blonde wig.

He shook his head, made a finger-gun motion with his hand, and turned to leave. But just as he took a step, he paused, spun back around, and said, "You know I like you, right?" His voice was casual, but his eyes told a different story.

"Stop messing with me…" you mumbled, barely above a whisper. Your heart was pounding in your chest. But instead of laughing, he stepped closer, hesitating for a moment before cupping your face gently. His eyes locked with yours, and for a second, the world seemed to stand still.

Then, he leaned in and gave you the softest, quickest kiss on the lips.

"Not messing with you, Misa," he said, dropping into L’s signature monotone. You couldn’t help it—you laughed so hard, your shoulders shook.

"Hey, no fair using my OTP!" you pouted, crossing your arms, but he just smirked and kissed you again.

"I’ll use whatever it takes to get you to notice me, nerd," he teased, his voice warm and playful. Then, with one last grin, he stepped back and turned to leave.

You stood there in the doorway, heart racing, watching Rodrick Heffley walk away like you’d just stepped out of the last scene of a shoujo anime.

[i2rizz]

MASTERLIST

My second masterlist because tumblr doesn't let more than 100links per post→ |masterlist #2

౨ৎBungou stray dogs

Fyodor Dostoevsky

-A dance in the night

Chuuya Nakahara

-Late night ride

-A Day Off

-Take care of me

Oda Sakunosuke

-Quiet Promises

Osamu Dazai

-Ghostly shenanigans

౨ৎBlue lock

Shidou Ryusei

-My lucky charm<3

-He looks like...

-Pet names the bllk boys would call you

-Pt.4 Atlanta Lock AU

-Ultraviolence

-Pt.3 New year's countdown

-Life sized plushie

Michael Kaiser

-Haunt my boss !!

-Pt.2 Fast and Furious!

-Pt.1 Atlanta Lock AU

-Pt.2 New year's countdown

-Life sized plushie

-Pet names the bllk boys would call you

-Their S/O Being Incapable of Kicking a Soccer Ball

-Bllk Boys Being Annihilated in Games by Someone Who Claims They "Aren't Really Competitive"

Itoshi Rin

-Pt.1 Fast and furious!

-I want you on my team- so does everybody else

-He looks like...

-My guitarist loverboy<3

-Pt.1 Stuck in a storm

-skate into my heart iceskater au

-Life sized plushie

-Pet names the bllk boys would call you

-Their S/O Being Incapable of Kicking a Soccer Ball

-Bllk Boys Being Annihilated in Games by Someone Who Claims They "Aren't Really Competitive"

Itoshi Sae

-Pt.3 Fast and Furious!

-Pt.2 Atlanta Lock AU

-Pt.4 New Year’s countdown

-Daddy’s Little Girl

-He looks like...

-Life sized plushie

-Pet names the bllk boys would call you

-Caught In 4K

-Off The Menu

-Their S/O Being Incapable of Kicking a Soccer Ball

-Bllk Boys Being Annihilated in Games by Someone Who Claims They "Aren't Really Competitive"

Chigiri Hyoma

-We fell in love in october

-505

-Pt. 4 Fast and Furious!

-He looks like...

-Pt.1 Stuck in a storm

-Life Sized Plushie Pt.2

Nagi Seishiro

-Pt.5 Fast and Furious!

-Pt.1 Underground Fight Club!

-Pt.3 Atlanta Lock AU

-Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?

-He looks like...

-Pet names the bllk boys would call you

-Life Sized Plushie Pt.2

Charles Chevalier

-Culinary dare!

-He looks like...

Kunigami Rensuke

-Sunset Promises

-Let me make it right

-He looks like...

-Pt.1 Stuck in a storm

Isagi Yoichi

-Pt.1 New year's countdown

-He looks like...

-Pt.1 Stuck in a storm

-Pet names the bllk boys would call you

-Life Sized Plushie Pt.2

Bachira Meguru

-Pt.1 Stuck in a storm

-Pet names the bllk boys would call you

Kenyu Yukimiya

-He looks like...

Raichi Jingo

-He looks like...

Igaguri Gurimu

-He looks like...

Oliver Aiku

-He looks like...

Zantetsu Tsurugi

-He looks like...

Niko Ikki

-He looks like...

Gagamaru Gin

-He looks like...

Reo Mikage

-He looks like...

-give me your card number

-Life sized plushie

-Pet names the bllk boys would call you

Barou Shoei

-He looks like...

-Pet names the bllk boys would call you

-Life Sized Plushie Pt.2

Aryu Jyubei

-He looks like...

Ego Jinpachi

-He looks like...

Wanima brothers

-He looks like...

Nanase Nijiro

-He looks like...

Tokimitsu Aoshi

-He looks like...

Kurona Ranze

-He looks like...

Alexis Ness

-He looks like...

-Pet names the bllk boys would call you

Hiori Yo

-He looks like...

Otoya Eita

-He looks like...

Karasu Tabito

-He looks like...

-Life Sized Plushie Pt.2

Kuon Wataru

-He looks like...

౨ৎSquid game

Frontman | Hwang In-ho

-Watchful eye

౨ৎRandom

-Pt.1 Chinese tiktok spy x reader??

-Pt.2 Chinese tiktok spy x reader??

[queenendless]

🔞❤️‍🔥 — MINE AND MINE ALONE — ❤️‍🔥🔞

A/n: Short smut commission for @bellarosethefangirl

Dom!Mello x Fem!Reader. Death Note AU. Short smut time!

SUMMARY: Collaborating with the mafia made Mello so preoccupied. So rendezvousing at the hotel room was his chance to be himself. Plus he missed his darling. Very, very much.

Mello yearned for your addicting warmth. Pinning both your hands behind your back, your nude fanny protruded out in the air as his sturdy stock was immersively devoured by your creamy cunt, greedily sucking him in immediately. His head craned back to let out that pent up frustration in various swear filled groans. Nearly dying from explosions and being just a pawn in his rival's own plot to thwart the nefarious Kira can really rile him up.

“Fuck babe~ I've missed you~ And your scorching tightness~ So damn much~!” Spanking your blushing cheeks to hear your yelps and watch them cheeks resplendently ripple got him squirting thickly. “Mmh~!” You mewled in the sheets as you looked back, drooling with your tongue out, eyes crossed, high on arousal. “More, Mello, more~! Make me cum all night~!”

“Desperate little cunt, aren’t ya? But alright.” Grabbing a fistful of your hair, his rough tugs back made you shout loud and hard as his tempestuous self pounded you ferociously into the mattress. “You won't walk for weeks after this … fine by me~" Knotting himself in your womb, he nutted hard, springing your climax out as well. “Don't you worry. We're just getting started.”

[persnicketypomelo]

I read your L fic on AO3 and it was amazing!! I was wondering if you could do a part 2 or write another story with him ?

Technically part 2, but more of a prequel. part 1 yandere!L x reader word count: 1.5k obsession, kidnapping, implied drugging, stalking

Object of Admiration (pt 2.)

The first thing you notice as you wake up is that your head kills. 

The second is the heaviness in your head, limbs, everything. 

You must have been tired to feel so sluggish even after such a deep, dreamless sleep. Did you have a lot to drink the night before? Everything’s so dizzy. Your head falls back into the pillow as you struggle to anchor it back on your shoulders. 

You’re in your room. 

You wouldn’t expect to be anywhere else, but there’s something off-putting that bothers you. Maybe it’s the haze lingering over you, but your room doesn’t feel…right. And maybe if your senses and judgement could slip out of their stupor a bit faster, you could tell what exactly was wrong. 

But at the moment, a muddled sense of wrongness is all you have. 

As your sense sharpen, that cloudy dis-ease morphs into a growing sense of alarm. This is not your room, but one so similarly furbished that you could be excused for not knowing. 

You lived alone. 

Which meant that someone had violated your privacy, illicitly accessed your apartment, made the deliberate effort to recreate it, and brought you here. The more you thought about it, the more you realised how terrible wrong the whole situation was.

You felt so…out of it. Everything felt so wrong. Did you get drugged? How did you get here? Why can’t you remember anything from the night before? 

You move to stumble out of bed, but a tension cuts your movement short. 

There are cuffs and chains attached to your wrists. 

It makes a strained clattering sound as it rattle against the bed. The metal is cool to the touch, and uncomfortably snug. But whoever put you in these decided to use padded ones, as to why, you couldn’t even imagine. 

At that moment, the door opens to admit a black-haired man you have never seen in your life. You press your back against the wall. The man, slouched even in his walk, continues approaching you.

“Drink this,” he holds a glass of water to your lips, “It’s not drugged or poisoned; I can assure you.

The water is cool and smooth against your throat. A contrast to the discomforting, unblinking gaze that drinks in your vulnerability. 

“If you behave well, I might be convinced to remove the handcuffs. If you are violent or resistant in any way, I have a variety of restraints that I am prepare to use until you can manage yourself properly. I can give you a demonstration if you’d like.”

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” You ask in a voice hoarse with disuse.

“You may know me as L. This, of course, is not my real name. For both yours and my safety, you will know me only by this alias.”

He removes the empty water glass, placing it on the nightstand. He sits at the end of your bed, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his thumb on his lip. His eyes fix on you, unblinking.

“I have no intentions of harming you—quite the opposite. I’ve come to value your presence, habits, and opinions. I estimate that I’ve lost approximately 30% of my productivity without your presence. As you can imagine, this poses a serious detriment to my work. It is more efficient to keep you close. And this way I can take care for you.”

“But you don’t know anything about me. We’ve never even met before.”

The corners of his mouth turn up, “Actually, I know you quite well, and anything I don’t know can be remedied with time. You were on the right track with those cameras in your apartment, but it would be very difficult to notice them with only the naked eye.”

Your blood runs cold.

“You’ve been watching me,” it’s a statement, but he answers it nonetheless. 

“Yes, although…” he leans forward, dead eyes scrutinising every detail of your face, “I hadn’t accounted for you being 20% more attractive up close like this.”

In another situation you might have blushed, but as it is, you’re chained to the bed with no way of creating any space between you and his fish eyes. 

“I want to go home,” you beg, “Please, I don’t want to be here.”

“This will be your home for now, although I acknowledge that it will take time for you to adjust to your new surroundings…know that any attempts at resistance or leaving will not yield any results for you. Though you are welcome to try. It would be fascinating to see what progress you can make.”

You had never thought that someone could make trying to escape so creepy and unnerving.

“If you’re really L, as you say, then doesn’t doing this—“ you glance around at the diorama of your room, attempting to avoid his stare, “—isn’t all this the opposite of justice? Doesn’t kidnapping me stand against everything you work for?”

He looks up, contemplating. 

“Every person has their own idea of justice. I would argue that bringing you here is an act of justice as I can better concentrate on catching Kira with you here. Furthermore, letting you free in a world filled with so many dangers, would be more of a moral wrongdoing. However, it’s understandable that you may view this situation unfavourably for now. With time, you’ll become accustomed to living here with me. I recreated your room so that you might become more comfortable with adjusting your environment. If you wish to change the layout, I’m amenable to changing it.”

A wave of disgust roils through your stomach

“Both of us stand to gain from this arrangement. I can better improve my focus and have your company. Being here, I can better provide for your safety and wellbeing. Being associated with me brings many dangers. I will ensure none of them will harm you, and that Kira will never know your identity. You are welcome to argue your case more with me, but know I will not be swayed on my position.”

And who’s fault do you think it is that I am now associated with you? 

“I can care for myself,” you respond, unable to control the bitterness in your voice, “I’m an adult, not a child.”

“Is that so,” he peers at you as if peeling back your flesh to poke around inside, “from my observations, your sleep schedule is woefully inadequate, the average adult needs anywhere from 7 to 9 hours of sleep, a mark which your current sleep schedule drastically fails in meeting,”

It was clear he had been stalking you, he had quite plainly confirmed it for himself, but to hear him list such details drove the stake closer to home.

“Furthermore, you struggle to meet rent each month. Your relationship with your landlord is strained, and if you miss another payment—“ 

“That’s enough!” You interrupt, face burning. 

“Well,” he starts, and you can see the self-satisfied grin that forms on his face, “I believe I’ve sufficiently proved my point. Your previous situation was less than ideal. But under my care, your living needs will be up to a far higher standard to which you had subjected yourself.” 

You turn your face away to avoid seeing his smug expression. The most maddening part of everything was that he was right. By all accounts, your life was not exactly peachy. But hearing it from a creep who admitted to stalking you for God knows how long was not exactly the intervention you needed nor cared for. 

It would be best to play along for now, you decide. L, or whoever he really is, seems meticulous, and thoughtful. If you wanted a real chance at getting out of here, you would need to think through a plan. At the very least, this man didn’t pose any overt threat to you. You could take time to get on his good side. And once you had to opportunity, you wouldn’t let it slip away.

“You must be hungry.” 

You are. But to admit it would be so humiliating that silence and starvation, seems, at the moment, preferable. Thankfully, your kidnapper spares you the embarrassment.

“I have Watari preparing something for you.”

You shuffle your handcuffs, “how am I supposed to eat anything with these on?” Perhaps approaching the topic like this could be subtly persuade him to remove the restraints. 

But he leaves your question hanging in the air. For at that moment, an elderly man enters the room, carrying a bowl of soup. L, or whoever he really is, takes the bowl within his hands, scooping the broth. He tilts his head to the side smiling in a way that might’ve even been charming in a cute sort of way.

He brings the spoonful to your lips. 

No, you know better. That’s the smile of someone who utterly delights in having you chained up, incapable of anything other than being utterly helpless to his will. That’s the smile of a crazed man who would bug your room just to satisfy his own sick fantasies. That’s the smile of a man who wouldn’t hesitate to kidnap you just because he has a crush. 

“Open wide.” 

Dividers by saradika graphics

[lobotomisa]

Corrosion [ l. yagami x gn. lawliet reader ]

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ PAIRING: [Yandere] Light Yagami / L's sibling Reader (Maybe oneshot)

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ SYNOPSIS: When L’s sibling joins the Kira investigation, Light Yagami is captivated by their ruthlessness and unpredictability. Seeing a perfect counterpart in them, he becomes consumed with desire to possess and manipulate them into his vision for a new world—no matter the cost or consequence.

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ RATING: SFW

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ NOTES: First writing post on this site! Enjoy!

The room is dimly lit, the shadows stretching long across the walls like dark secrets waiting to be unveiled. The atmosphere is thick with tension, the kind that prickles at your skin and sets your nerves on edge. You sit at the end of the conference table, leaning back in your chair with a casual arrogance that contrasts with the seriousness of the meeting. Your fingers tap a steady rhythm on the table, an unspoken reminder that you have little patience for the slow, methodical pace at which your brother, L, prefers to work.

Across from you, Light Yagami watches with a measured gaze. He’s been doing that a lot lately—watching you, studying you, as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle that refuses to give up its secrets. You’ve noticed, of course. You notice everything about Light Yagami, just as he seems to notice everything about you.

L, of course, is oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between the two of you. He’s too focused on his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard, eyes narrowed with that constant look of intense concentration. You’ve never understood how he does it, how he can immerse himself so completely in his work, shutting out everything else. Then again, L has always been like that—cold, detached, too absorbed in his pursuit of justice to see what’s right in front of him.

Which is precisely why you’re here. You’re not like your brother. You don’t have his questionable moral code, his unyielding sense of his version of right and wrong. A limiter. You’re willing to do what it takes to catch Kira, to bring this whole mess to an end—no matter the cost. No matter the consequences.

And that makes you dangerous.

You can see it in Light's eyes when he looks at you-- that flicker of something dark, something hungry. It's as if he can sense that beneath your calm demeanor, there's a ruthless pragmatism, a willingness to cross lines that not even your brother would dare touch.

“So, (Alias),” Light’s voice cuts through the quiet hum of the room, smooth and carefully measured, “I’m curious… what’s your take on Kira? You’ve been working with us for a few weeks now, but you haven’t really said much about what you think.”

You glance up, meeting his gaze with a knowing smile. “Does it matter what I think?” you reply casually. “I’m not here to speculate; I’m here to help L catch Kira.”

Light’s smile doesn’t falter, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—interest, maybe. Or something more. “I think it matters,” he presses, leaning forward slightly. “After all, we’re all trying to get inside Kira’s head, aren’t we? To understand how he thinks, what motivates him. If we don’t understand that, how can we ever hope to catch him?”

You tilt your head, considering his words. “I suppose you have a point,” you concede. “But then again, I’m not sure Kira’s that complicated. He’s a killer, plain and simple. He thinks he’s doing the world a favor, but really, he’s just a self-righteous coward hiding behind a notebook.”

L glances up at this, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows better than to try to rein you in. He knows how little you care for moral posturing.

Light, however, seems intrigued. “A coward?” he echoes, his tone curious. “That’s an interesting perspective. Most people would call him brave… taking on the whole world, standing against crime and corruption.”

You snort, a sound of pure derision. “There’s nothing brave about hiding in the shadows, picking off people from a distance. Bravery would be facing his enemies head-on, not playing God from the safety of anonymity. Kira’s just another egomaniac, desperate for power.”

Light’s smile tightens just a fraction, but his voice remains smooth, unruffled. “And you?” he asks, his gaze piercing. “What are you desperate for, (Alias)?”

You raise an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the directness of the question. “Me? I’m just here to do a job. And to have a little fun while I’m at it.”

Light chuckles, a low, pleasant sound that seems to resonate in the quiet room. “I think you’re more interesting than that,” he murmurs, his tone almost admiring. “You don’t strike me as someone who follows the rules… someone who plays by anyone else’s game.”

You smile back, but there’s a challenge in your expression. “And what game do you think I’m playing, Light?”

For a moment, his eyes darken, and you see that familiar spark, that hunger that’s been growing ever since you first walked into this room. “I think you’re playing a game all your own,” he replies softly. “And I think you’re very good at it.”

You lean back, shrugging nonchalantly. “Maybe I am. Or maybe you just don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

Light's gaze doesn’t waver. If anything, it becomes even more intense, like he’s trying to see straight through you. “Maybe,” he concedes. “But I’d like to.”

Over the next week, Light’s attention on you only intensifies. He’s always around, always watching, always finding reasons to be near you. He offers to work with you on cases, to share his thoughts and theories, to get you alone in a quiet corner of the investigation room where he can ask you questions, probe at your motivations, your desires.

At first, you find it amusing. Light Yagami is handsome, sure, and smart—undeniably so. But there’s something about him, something too perfect, too controlled, like a mask that never slips. You enjoy pushing at it, testing the boundaries, seeing how far you can go before you see the real Light Yagami underneath.

But soon, it becomes clear that Light is playing his own game, one that’s more dangerous than you first realized.

You start finding things—small, seemingly insignificant things. A note slipped into your bag, written in Light’s neat handwriting: “I know you’re not like the others.” Flowers left on your desk, no note, but you know they’re from him. Strange glances from Light's annoying little girlfriend (whose name you don't care to remember), as if she knows something you don’t.

And then there’s Light himself. Always so calm, so composed, but lately there’s a tension to him, a restless energy that makes you feel like you’re standing too close to a fire.

One evening, you’re alone in the task force headquarters. Most of the team has gone home, and even L has retreated to his private quarters, leaving you with a mountain of paperwork and a growing sense of unease.

Light appears in the doorway, his expression unreadable. “Working late?” he asks, his voice light.

You glance up, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at the sight of him. “What’s it to you?”

He steps into the room, moving closer. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t overworking yourself,” he says softly. “It wouldn’t do for you to burn out. You’re too important to this case… and to me.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “I didn’t realize you cared so much, Yagami.”

He stops just in front of you, too close, his gaze burning into yours. “You have no idea how much I care,” he murmurs.

Something in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. You straighten up, crossing your arms over your chest. “What’s your game, Light? What are you really after?”

He smiles, but there’s no warmth in it, just a kind of dark amusement. “You,” he replies simply. “I’m after you.”

You blink, caught off guard by the bluntness of his words. “Me?”

“Yes,” he continues, his voice lowering to a whisper. “You’re different, (Alias). You’re not like the others. You don’t care about rules, about right or wrong. You understand that sometimes, to win, you have to be willing to do whatever it takes. I like that about you.”

You narrow your eyes. “And why do you think that?”

Light leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin. “Because I see it in your eyes. I see the way you look at me, the way you challenge me. You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

You hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “Should I be?”

He laughs softly, the sound almost a purr. “Maybe,” he whispers. “Maybe you should be. Because I want you, (Alias). I want you on my side, where you belong.”

You tilt your head, considering him. “And if I say no?”

Light’s smile widens, but there’s something almost manic in his eyes. “You won’t,” he replies. “Because you and I… we’re the same. We’re both willing to do whatever it takes to win.”

You feel a thrill of something—fear, excitement, you’re not sure which. But before you can respond, Light reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch strangely gentle.

“I’m not like the others, (Alias),” he whispers. “I’m not like your brother. I see you for who you really are… and I’m not afraid. I admire it. I admire you.”

You feel your pulse quicken, your breath catching in your throat. Light’s touch is feather-light, yet it feels like a brand, burning into your skin. There’s a gravity to his words, a weight that pulls at you, that tugs at something deep inside you that you hadn’t realized was there.

“I think you’re mistaken, Light,” you say slowly, carefully. “You don’t know me nearly as well as you think you do.”

His fingers linger against your skin, tracing a line down to your jaw, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, a kind of electric intensity that sends a shiver through you. “Oh, but I do,” he counters, voice soft but firm. “I see you. I see the way you look at things—the way you look at me. You’re curious. You’re drawn to me. I can feel it.”

You want to deny it, to push him away, to laugh in his face and tell him he’s imagining things. But there’s something in his eyes that stops you, something almost hypnotic. He’s too close, his presence overwhelming, filling up all the space around you until there’s nothing but him—his gaze, his touch, his voice.

“I think you’ve convinced yourself of something that isn’t true,” you reply, but your voice lacks the conviction you’d intended.

Light’s smile widens, and his hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair. “Maybe,” he murmurs, “but I don’t think so. I think you’re just afraid to admit it… afraid of what it means to be seen, truly seen, by someone like me.”

You scoff, but it sounds weaker than you’d like. “And what exactly do you see, Light?”

He leans in, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. “I see someone who’s not afraid to get their hands dirty,” he whispers. “Someone who’s willing to do whatever it takes to get what they want. I see someone like me.”

You feel your heart pound in your chest, a wild, frantic beat that you can’t control. “And what do you want, Light?”

His eyes burn with a fierce intensity. “I want you,” he repeats. “I want you by my side, standing with me when this is all over. Because you’re the only one who can understand what I’m doing, why I’m doing it. You’re the only one who’s worthy of being there.”

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you’re caught in his gaze, unable to look away. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet… powerful, too. As if he’s offering you a piece of his world, a chance to step into something larger than yourself.

But you’re not naive. You know Light is dangerous. You know he’s playing his own game, that he’s hiding something—something big. And yet, there’s a part of you that’s drawn to that danger, to the challenge he represents.

“I’m not your pawn, Light,” you finally say, your voice steady, though your heart is still racing. “I’m not going to just fall in line because you think you’ve figured me out.”

Light’s smile softens, and for a moment, you see something almost… tender in his expression. “I don’t want a pawn,” he replies. “I want a partner. Someone who understands me, someone who shares my vision. And I think, deep down, you want the same thing.”

You swallow hard, the words hanging between you like a loaded gun. “And if I don’t?”

Light’s grip on your neck tightens just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his strength, his control. “Then I’ll just have to convince you,” he whispers. “And I can be very convincing.”

The threat is subtle, almost lost in the softness of his tone, but it’s there, a dark undercurrent that sends a chill down your spine. You realize, with a jolt, just how deep his obsession runs—how far he’s willing to go to make you his.

You pull back slightly, just enough to break the contact, to put some distance between you. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Light,” you warn. “And I don’t think you realize who you’re dealing with.”

He laughs, a low, rich sound that seems to vibrate in your chest. “Oh, I think I know exactly who I’m dealing with,” he replies, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “And I think you’re just afraid to admit that you want this too.”

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog from your mind. “I’m not afraid of anything, Light,” you say, your voice firm, steady.

He steps closer again, refusing to let you retreat. “Then prove it,” he challenges, his voice dropping to a low, seductive whisper. “Prove that you’re not afraid. Take a chance… join me.”

Your heart pounds in your ears, and for a moment, you’re tempted—tempted by the promise in his words, by the fire in his eyes. But you’re not foolish enough to fall into his trap, not yet.

“Maybe I will,” you say, your tone light, almost mocking. “Or maybe I’ll just keep you guessing.”

Light’s smile is sharp, his eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and amusement. “You’re going to be the death of me, (Alias),” he mutters, but there’s no anger in his voice—only a kind of dark, twisted affection.

You grin. “Good. I’d hate to be boring.”

He laughs again, but there’s an edge to it, a hint of something darker lurking just beneath the surface. “We’ll see,” he murmurs. “We’ll see who ends up bored… and who ends up broken.”

With that, he steps back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turns and leaves the room. You watch him go, your mind racing, your heart pounding in your chest.

You know you’ve just walked into a game with Light Yagami—a game with no rules, no boundaries, and no guarantees. A game where the stakes are higher than you’ve ever played before.

And despite the danger, despite the risks… you can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. Because for the first time in a long time, you’ve found someone who’s just as ruthless, just as cunning, just as dangerous as you are.

And you can’t wait to see who will win.

©️ LOBOTOMISA 2024 . do not copy my work to other sites or plagiarize my works .

[essektheylyss]

enough reader x character fic. we have surpassed the need for reader x character fic. we need to move onto fic where I personally kill a fictional character with my bare hands

[theplaceicommitmysins]

18+ He’s The Next One: 7 - F!Reader X L Lawliet

No gendered language is used (Probably).

Wordcount: 1.9k

Contains: Second person POV, noncon exhibitionism, bdsm adjacent, The reader is a serial killer.

It takes mere moments for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, eased by the faintest sliver of streetlights breaking through the curtains, highlighting and glinting off of the chain connecting L to Kira where they sleep side by side.

Your steps are silent as you make your way across the room to Kira’s side of the bed, eyes sweeping over and tracing the contours of his face, and the smooth fall of his hair against the pillow beneath his head. The feeling of hot rage followed by cold calculation rushes through you, making your ears ring, tunneling your vision until all you can see is him.

Kira.

“It would be so easy.” You think, “Killing you while you sleep.”

You slowly lower yourself to your knees, kneeling beside the bed and resting your chin on the mattress, your face so close to his you can feel the breath from his nose on your cheeks.

“Easier than you deserve.” You mouth out into the silence of the room.

It takes ten deep breaths in, and ten deeper breaths out for you to gain a handle on your control again. To remember your promise to L.

So you get up and make your way over to your detective instead, sleeping on his back like some creepy dead bug, and you smile.

It would be just as easy to kill L.

As easy to kill him as it is to watch him. To stand beside the bed he shares with a mass murderer and hover your hand above his skin, fingers tracing the air above the bridge of his nose, the rise of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips.

Pale, parted, and slightly chapped, with a split from one of Kira’s luckier hits, you can feel the wisps of his breath, even and slow brushing against your skin and it sends a shiver tracing down your spine, skirting across you like the brush of long thin fingers.

He looks so pretty like this, a little beaten up, and a lot defenseless. Almost as pretty as when he was making Kira bruised and bloodied. Eyes somehow darker than even their usual void, and chest rising and falling faster as he catches his breath.

The cold of your killing instinct is slowly being washed away by heat, by want, lapping against you like waves on a shore, or tongues on flesh. A wet drag, over and over and-

Your hips are grinding against nothing.

His tongue briefly dips out of his parted lips, wetting them and you can’t help but let out a sigh.

He really is so pretty.

Your movements are fluid as you ease yourself onto the mattress, one leg resting beside L’s shoulder and the other quickly thrown over to brace you above him, hovering over his face, with your shin pinning the chain connecting him to Kira.

His eyes don’t flutter open. They don’t squeeze or squint. He seemingly wakes up all at once, the only suggestion of surprise on his part, of any sudden change in awareness, being the sharp inhale you can feel between your legs.

You reach down and thread your fingers through his hair, pushing back his bangs for him and smile gently.

“Open.” You mouth.

And obediently your detective does, lips parting fully for you and hot breath washing over the wet cotton of your panties.

It feels right to let your weight drop, to press your cunt to his tongue as he presses it back against you and to rock against the soft warmth of his mouth.

You feel a hum of contentment more than you hear it as his eyes slide closed again, his unchained arm coming up and over your thighs to press you more fully against him as he laps at your aching clit through the fabric of your panties, his spit and your wetness through the panties combining to do little more than frustrate you, lessening the friction of the act.

You rock your hips, rolling them in a wave like motion to grind your pleasure out against his tongue, which he sticks out and flattens, letting you use him and you groan, drawing a similar noise from him in response.

Letting go of his hair, you bring your hand down to tug your undies to the side, giving him more access to you and L pulls his tongue back just long enough to press a quick peck against your cunt, it feels like gratitude and affection.

His tongue comes back out, the warm soft heat of it parting your pussy to drag slow swipes up to your clit, only to drop back down and tease your entrance, only just pressing the very tip of his tongue inside before lapping your wetness back up again, and you let your head tip back, let your eyes shut, let your sighs of pleasure go freely in the quiet of the room.

L eats pussy like he eats ice cream or cake, not like he savors it but like he’s entitled to it. Like parting your legs and giving your cunt to him is a given. He doesn’t speed up, or chase your sounds, or go fast and hard. The way he enjoys you is with his complete attention, licking and sucking and drinking down all your pussy has to offer like this is for him, like the fact that your hips are twitching with every press of his perfect tongue against your sensitive clit is incidental.

And he just keeps going. The heat of his warm mouth against you, so soft and so worshipful builds up through you, slowly at first then faster, compounding as your need grows and your rock your hips against him harder, press his head firmer against the pillow to try to take what you want only for his arm to tighten vice like around your thighs and hold you still.

You look down and make eye contact with him, his eyes flat black in the dark of the room, and it’s like you can read his mind.

“I’m not done yet.”

He doesn’t say it but you can hear it in the sound of him pressing his tongue up and into you, the slick sticky noise of him getting you wet with your cum and his spit cacophonous in the quiet of the room and you can’t help but choke out a moan , thighs squeezing either side of his head before you nod.

He shuts his eyes again and focuses back on his treat.

You cum.

The way he eases you through it isn’t kind, it’s indifferent. He doesn’t change his pace. Doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t stop when you’re doubled over his head, fists clamped down on the pillow and mouth hanging open as you pant for breath in between needy noises.

He just keeps going.

Your hips rock again and the chain digs uncomfortable into your skin where your leg is pressed to it and the reminder draws your eyes across the length of it to the other side of the mattress.

Your eyes meet brown ones. Wide open and unblinking.

Even in the dark of the room, even past the black eye and bruises, you can see the way Kira’s cheeks are flushed.

Kira scrunches up his face in a rictus of disgust and outrage and scorn.

He’s also hard.

“You wanted to know what L looks like satisfied?” You think to yourself, a grin splitting your face as you roll your head to the side to look directly at Kira, “I’ll show you a satisfied L, motherfucker.”

The pleasure hasn’t stopped, L’s attention unwavering as he pleases himself by pleasing you and you dig your fingers into his hair again, yanking hard until his lips pull away with a smack, and you force him to look you in the eye, though you’re briefly distracted by the sight of a string of your wetness still connecting the two of you, clinging to his mouth and chin.

“Need you inside baby.” You let your voice sound as wrecked as you feel.

Without breaking eye contact L let’s go of your thighs, reaching past you to shove the sweatpants he was sleeping in far enough down to expose his hard cock, a string of precum breaking away from the fabric as the wet skin of him is exposed, flushed nearly red and standing at full mast.

Kira makes a choked noise next to the two of you and you quickly move down L’s body, grabbing his cock and pressing the tip to your puffy, oversensitive cunt.

With your grip on his hair you don’t let him turn to look at the other murderer in his bed. You refuse to share his attention.

You have to ease yourself onto the tip of him slowly, your sensitivity heightened by the previous overstimulation and you whimper at the stretch.

L groans at the feeling and you grin again, taking pride in the sound.

Once you get the tip all the way in the rest of him is easy enough to take. You’re certainly wet enough as you drip down the length of his cock, easing the glide as you start to ride him.

“Feels so good when you fill me up baby.” You whisper, as if you’re unaware of your audience, and moan when you feel his cock throb inside of you at the pet name, “Only you stretch me this good.”

L moans at full volume at your words, seemingly not bothering to make the effort of pretending to respect Kira’s sleep. His hands come out, thin fingers singing into the flesh of your hips and you have to hold in a laugh as the chain yanks Kira’s arm closer to the two of you, an endeavor made easier when L lifts you up his cock, then drops you back down all at once, tearing the breath from your lungs in a throaty moan.

“Fuck- L!” You feel him shuffle beneath you as he braces his feet against the mattress and raises his knees, and in time with the next to him lifts your up his cock and drops you down, he fucks his hips up into you, filling you to the fucking brim.

You forget Kira after that.

“I’m stronger than I look.” You hear his words from before in your head and all you can think, all you can say, is “God yes, fuck yes, L, yes!”

And he keeps fucking you like that, using your body like it’s his own hand as he strokes his cock with you and you rock your hips to make your clit grind against his hips own when he’s got you pressed to the very base of him.

It doesn’t take long for you to cum again.

And again.

And things go fuzzy after a while of this, of the drag out and the press in and the wet hot heat and the-

—-

In the morning when you wake up, L’s arms are around you and Kira is facing the other side of the room with his pillow over his head.

You can’t help but giggle at that, then sigh as you feel thin lips press to the back of your neck, “Good morning M.” 

Mine.

“Mmm. Morning baby.” You shift slightly, starting to turn to face him when you feel the wet drag inside your cunt, and you freeze, clenching down on something half hard and hearing L hiss behind you.

“Did… Did you stay inside me all night?”

“It was warm.” His voice is scratchier than normal from sleep and his nuzzles his face into your neck, heaving out a content sighs before curling his hips to press back in deeper.

“Holy shit, that’s so hot.”

Muffled by a pillow you distinctly hear the words, “Just kill me already.”

You cackle.

[tommiieimagiines]

thank you, tell me what

☆ you think ☆

hi guys! as i said in my previous post, i would LOVE some requests from outside the pjsk fandom! if you requested pjsk, don’t worry! i’m still working on them, i just need a little break! please don’t feel like you need to ask me what fandoms or things i allow! i’m currently taking everything cuz i DESPERATELY need to get these creative juices flowing…

id like to thank you all for your support over these past months. we’re approaching my one year anniversary of coming back! when it’s time, i’m thinking of giving you all something special as a gift;3 i feel like my writing is constantly evolving and improving, i hope you all agree!

that being said, i have a few questions for my readers!:

☆ would you be interested in explicit content? is that something you’d like on a separate blog?

☆ would you be interested in buying commissions? how about setting up a ko-fi?

☆ what are some things you would change about me and my blog? is there something i do that really bugs you?

☆ REQUESTS, REQUESTS, REQUESTS.

[bakugokemkatsuki]

Dates

L (Death Note) x (GN) Reader:

**Word Count: 324 **Genre: FLuff/ Crack **Note: L kind of OOC?, in this in public L goes by Ryusaki and you call him Ryu for short

Your boyfriend was anything but normal. You knew that going into this relationship. One thing that came with dating someone like L was that your dates were always anything but normal. For one you almost never go out on dates in public. Dates usually consisted of hanging out in the apartment watching movies and eating cake or other sweets. The few times you guys did end up going out on public dates they almost always ended badly and today was no different. L was paranoid about people knowing who he was, after all many people probably want him dead though many others would praise him for his work. He was always extremely cautious and jumpy when you two were out. The outings usually never lasted more than an hour or two before L freaked and Watari would have to come get you guys. Today you two were out on a walk enjoying nature when L sneezed. A man nearby walked over to offer him a tissue when L flipped this man over his shoulder and the guy landed hard on his back. “Ryu why did you just flip this poor man?” you ask as you help the guy up. “It was just self-defense.” “Ryu… he was JUST handing you a tissue.” “It could have concealed a weapon… or better yet it could have been covered in chloroform.” “Or hear me out… it was just a NORMAL tissue.” After the mini argument you bowed apologizing to the guy and decided it was time to go back home. “I prefer our in-home dates anyways.” “Me too Ryu… Me too.” You couldn’t help but smile as you headed home, he really was special and he was all yours. Your dates and honestly most of your relationship may not be normal but you were okay with that because you love L exactly as he is.

[mullermilkshake]

An experiment.

L is looking for ties and leads to Kira.

L (Death Note) x Fem!reader DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,Non-con,L is a virgin,Vaginal fingering,Cunnilingus,unprotected sex,Referenced stalking,Kidnapping,Vaginal sex,Cream pie

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“I don’t know who Light Yagami is!” It had been a lifetime in that room deprived of your sight. 

“You do know him, I listened to that phone call you made. It isn’t wise to lie to me.” You didn’t know who spoke, the voice you couldn’t recognise but all you knew was that he had introduced himself as L.

Exhaustion didn’t quite cover it, being bound and exposed while he touched you in all the ways a stranger shouldn’t. You were a science experiment to him, testing ways to make you squeal and what made you squirm, though he never talked to anyone else except for himself. 

It sounded like he was making mental notes whenever he made you orgasm in that freezing echoey room, legs in stirrups it felt like. And somehow, he managed it every single time, mumbling to himself every orgasm he accomplished that made you wet and writhing despite your protests.

“I don’t. I-I really don’t. I just want to go home, please just let me go.”

“Now why would I do that?” It was so sinister, only his breath past the blindfold in the deafening silence.

“Because…” You thought carefully. “Because I believe you can be a good person and this is all just a mistake.”

That was a lie you told yourself. It didn’t seem at all that you could ever leave, remaining here forever with a sicko who had never revealed himself to you. You didn’t recognise anything about him, voice smooth and calm, completely pleasurable to your ears and tender touch against your exposed and bare skin lingering a little longer than what was acceptable. 

All of that in an uncomplicated time were characteristics some looked for in a partner. But not you, you despised him, loathed his actual existence to the point you often thought about how you would inflict pain on him. 

Strangling was the most common thought to drag against your numb deprived brain. As soon as he unshackled you, unrestrained you, both of your hands would wrap themselves tightly around his neck and squeeze and squeeze until he stopped moving so you could escape. He didn’t sound extraordinarily big, though knowing your luck, he was probably six foot tall and built like an Ox.

“You really believe I’m a good person?”

No. “Yes.”

“You don’t believe that.” He pressed two fingers to your neck and chuckled quietly though it still echoed in the lonesome room.

“Your heart rate has elevated and your breathing says otherwise, like I said before, it isn’t wise to lie to me if you want to leave. Though with all your reservations, I am in fact a good person. I wouldn't work for the police if I wasn’t.”

The police? What? A man as malicious as himself worked for the people who were supposed to keep you safe and to protect you. Not to use you like a toy for some fucked up twisted intrusive thoughts for a power play.

“I’m incredibly trusted, did you know that? There are three men in the next room, all of whom trust my decision… The cameras are off right now. But when they come back on, anything you say, would be what Kira would say. And they would take it at face value.”

Why was he not listening to you, was he that twisted? “I’m not Kira!”

“I know. Though I am curious as to what you are. You still have yet to give me that answer and no matter how much I try, I can’t seem to get the right perspective.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Your body. I’m struggling to define its boundaries because you react differently every time.” His fingers brushed against the skin of your thigh, tingling away at the slightest touch and exposure to the chill in the air. 

“Don’t touch me. Please let me go.”

There was a rustle of fabric, shuffle of paper and scribbling. “I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands now, are you?”

His tone was calmer than ever, contact remained as you registered that it was his fingertips, moving slowly up your leg to your sensitive area, private from prying eyes. You weren’t sure if you were even covered up half the time.

You’d asked yourself so many times over why was he doing this to you, why did he pick you to bring in and question. But that wasn’t what left your lips. “How could you do this to someone?”

You heard something audible behind the blindfold and a long pause. Then he said, “It’s odd of you to ask that. About ninety percent of people in your position would have asked why I’m doing this, not how. I’ll indulge you, but only this once. I do this just because I can, wouldn't you if you had the power of the NPA and Task Force behind you?”

“No… I wouldn’t do anything so cruel.” All you could do was tear up, wetting the blindfold so that it stuck to your face.

“I wouldn’t say it was cruel, just an experiment. You see, I get extremely bored and you have piqued my interest. I want to see what exactly makes you tick, what excites you and pushes you over the edge that renders you immobile.” There was a heavy and suffocating pause. “I don’t actually give a damn about Kira, not since I found you. But I need to keep up appearances of course.”

“Found me?” That implied he was looking for you and this whole thing was not by accident. 

“You’re quite vocal when you want to be, all on your own in your bedroom. I want to hear that again, only I want to do it myself. I’m fascinated by your body and I want to understand what strings to pull.”

…Bedroom? There was no way he had seen your bedroom. 

Why is he saying these things? As if all he’d done already wasn’t enough. You wanted to be sick, make a scene and spit on him for what he was pulling, lying about everything that left his lips. The police could stop him if they knew, there must be some sort of way to get a message out you hoped, but how you weren't sure since the cameras were off.

“I know what you’re thinking. How on earth has he seen my bedroom? Well it's simple to deduce when you enter your apartment complex, then you cross reference how long it would take to get to the highest floor by either the elevator or walking, seeming as your complex is only a few floors and judging by your physical fitness, the probability of you using the stairs was high.”

That pause again, nothing good came of it. “I only had to wait for you to come home in the dark and wait for a light to turn on. You should really invest in a blackout blind, anyone could sit on that tree just outside your window and look in.”

You remembered. One night not long before you ended up in this place, you thought you had seen something outside your window past your net curtains. Though, when you looked out there was nothing there so you dismissed it as a bird or wild animal. It had been summer and it got you all hot and bothered. 

“Seeing you touch yourself in that way got me thinking if I could replicate it, but since now, nothing has gotten you there.” 

His fingers moved and pressed against you, the restraints stopped you from moving, there was no room to flinch or pull away. They were inside you quickly, but he was gentle and kept that way when his tongue moved there too, licking up the entire length of you, moving slowly and purposefully over your clit so it made you jolt involuntarily. 

Here he went again, he’d keep going until you came. Guaranteed every time. 

He stopped and that threw you off. He sighed to himself, “No. That’s not right, you didn’t squirm like before when I did this.”

L pulled his fingers out of you and moved them over your clit in small circles, you tried so hard to stop yourself moaning in pitch black, but it was too late. “I recall your fingers doing this, please don’t stifle your moans or it'll disrupt the whole experiment. I’m using that time in your bedroom as a control, it’s not an ideal parameter to go off of, but unfortunately it’s all I have.”

You didn’t make one sound and bit your lip to defy him, to ruin it in hopes he’d grow bored and let you go. “To put it simply, I need you to let go and stop being uptight if you want this over with.”

Still nothing. “Ah I know. Let’s have a little fun, why dont we play a game?” 

“A game?” He’d baited you. 

“This is a fun game…” He moved in another direction, and used his other hand to finger you like before. “And it's called, let’s see how much I can get away with.”

“W-what?” 

“I think it's time we had intercourse, I have nothing to go by in comparison but don’t worry, it’s entirely for my own notes, no one else will see us.” He’d never fucked you before.

It all overwhelmed you, panicking and straining against the straps you didn’t register the numbness or singing pain tugging your wrists. “No! Stop this right now, or I swear I’ll scream so loud everyone will come running and stop you!”

“Go right ahead,” A rustle of fabric. “It’s all soundproof, no one will hear you. But if you do insist on screaming, try to differentiate it between pleasure and panic, there's a fine line and it can be difficult to tell the difference.”

And then his cock was there, hard and pushing into you, your dripping cunt with so much ease you didn’t realise how wet he’d made you. Straight in and he held himself there, the entire length of his cock to bottom out. 

“You’ll have to excuse me, this is my first time but upon watching pornography, it's not entirely difficult to work out. I’ll have plenty of practice.”

“Plenty? You said it would be over after, you said!”

“Did I? I don’t recall.” He thrusted in and out slowly to adjust, his hands finding their way to your breasts, massaging them and squeezing. “Hm… you react differently to nipple stimulation than taking my fingers, interesting. ”

He rolled your nipples between his fingers over the fabric, pulling and pinching to get a reaction out of you. It was involuntary, the noises escaping your lips was ghastly as he fucked you, gradually picking up the pace. 

“I wonder what it’ll feel like if I ejaculate inside you-”

“Don’t do that. You better not fucking do that, you’re deranged!” 

“You say that, but biologically speaking, your body is telling me a different story. So wet and lubricated, it’s telling me that you’re enjoying yourself despite protesting. Can you explain that?” His voice became strained. 

You tried screaming, asking anyone behind the blacked out lens of the security camera he’d mentioned to help, to stop L and to let you loose. If there was really even one there.

No one answered of course, just like he said and after a while, he covered your mouth with his hand. 

“Despite this being an experiment, I can’t actually concentrate whilst you're screaming in my ear like that. From what I’ve read, I’m very close to finishing and I’d like to enjoy it. It is my first time after all and it feels much better than I expected. We can resume the experiment at a later date.” 

He was really putting effort in now, his hips pounding into your aching and numbing legs, fingers digging into you as he gripped and breathed in a way that you assumed only meant one thing. 

He was close. “That’s it.” He said, jerking into you and jutting with his orgasm inside you. 

Deep and already you could feel his cock twitching and filling you, but he didn’t pull out, not at first. So clinical and robotic, breaths reaching normality quickly. 

“That was…” There was a hint of shock perhaps. “I enjoyed that very much.” 

Just another horny man on top of you to make you regret and despise yourself. “Get the fuck off of me you creep! How could you do that?” 

“It just solidified my initial assessment… Now I understand just how much I can get away with… interesting.” 

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

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Object of Admiration (Yandere!L) pt 2

Yandere!L/Reader, obsession, kidnap

You hadn’t always been this way.

That is, confined in a mad genius’s flat with no choice in the matter. 

And you surely wouldn’t have expected yourself to be calmly cooking yourself dinner as your captor sat on the couch, rewatching the same 240p granular CCTV footage in a loop. The black-haired detective beckoned for you to be seated by him, and you complied. 

A measly few weeks ago, you would’ve scoffed and turned heel at his command. But now, you begrudgingly follow his whim. The sight of the front door, locked only from the inside, taunts you. How easy it would be to march out the door, and how infuriating it was that he had you so under his thumb that you willingly decided not to.

Your captor was thin, lanky, and peculiar in many ways. Despite his constant consumption of sweets, he never seemed to put on a single kilogram. He tended towards the same uniform of blue pants and a white shirt, day in, day out. He was obviously not a man keen on self-care, given the constant disarray of his hair and the dark, tired bags under his eyes. Yet you knew better than to judge him by his messy appearance and shabby sweatpants. 

Beneath your kidnapper’s unremarkable appearance, he was smart—extremely so—and meticulous in his every action. The first week of your imprisonment, you combed through every cranny of the flat when he left the house. What you were looking for, you didn’t know, and it didn’t really matter anyway. Just…anything you could find about the man who stole you away from your life. Hell, even a letter from his mom would be something, but all you had was nothing.

He was always one step ahead of you. Everything you knew about him was information he chose to let you know. It was always clear who always had the upper hand between the two of you. 

“Do you want one?” The low, monotone voice interrupted, breaking the ice treat in half, “You’ve been staring. Normally I wouldn’t share these ones as they’re my favourite, but you’re the exception.” 

How you wish you weren’t the exception.

Absentmindedly, you take the ice treat from his hand, tasting the sugar as it melts in your mouth while his voice drones on. How funny, your captor, L, was regarded as so intelligent as to be sought out by Interpol, and yet he had the habits of a petulant child. He couldn’t survive without an alarming dose of sugar every day, and became sullen and jealous if you admired any person’s intelligence other than his own. His quirks would have even been cute, were he anyone else. 

Surely someone else would’ve been interested in him for his eccentricities. So why did he have to go out of his way for someone who wanted none of his attention?

L’s voice once again breaks your reverie, “…and I can tell you’ve not been listening given by how you’ve been making the same noise to everything I’ve said. What are you thinking about?”

You blink. It wasn’t like you to be so spacey, but today, everything in the now familiar house flooded your memory of one month prior.

You glance over to the miniature calendar propped on the coffee table. Some couples celebrated the anniversary of their relationship. You counted the weeks, now month, of your kidnap. 

“Why?” You ask, drunk on the wistful nostalgia of this particular date, “Why choose me? Why go this far for just one person?” 

L returns his gaze to the monitor with a thoughtful expression.

“Truthfully, I do not know why.” The popsicle in his hand had, by now, evaporated under his ravenous cravings to the bare stick.

“I like seeing how you think, and I value your presence…enough to want to keep you from ever leaving, from ever being someone else’s.”

L was never downright sappy or cloying with his words, yet you knew firsthand the depth of his affection. 

His first recourse upon returning, every day, was to hold you in a deceptively crushing embrace. To any outsider, it might’ve seemed like a sweet gesture between a loving couple. To you, his lanky arms entrapped you with a strength that betrayed their appearance. His fingers gripped the fabric of your clothing with a tightness that revealed the true extent of his possessiveness beneath his apathetic demeanour, deeply inhaling against the skin of your neck. The more you resisted, the less reciprocative of his embrace that you were, the longer and tighter his hold was. You learned, through time, that it was better to ease your unwilling muscles into the embrace. If you could stomach it that day, you would even wrap your arms around him in a weak act of reciprocation. L was more willing to hear out your requests the more compliant you were with his delusion of mutual love. 

In the end, he always got what he wanted from you, and you were powerless to do anything about it. 

If you rebelled and attempted to flee, he would find you and send people to bring you back. No matter how clever you were to avoid him, he still managed to track you down, and drag you back. He delighted in listing how you improved from your last attempt, analysing your performance as one might an episode of their favourite television show. When you acquiesced and gave up on attempted escape, that just meant he succeeded in conditioning you into his fantasy of you as his partner. Either by complying or resisting his kidnap, he had you right where he wanted you. More and more, you learned to fit more into the role of his partner: grudgingly obliging in returning his forced affection.

But no matter how reciprocal you forced yourself to be, you had yet to figure out relinquish his hold on you at night. 

Every night, without fail, L would wrap his arms around your midsection and bury his face into your back, like a personal teddy bear. When you tried to pry yourself free, his arms would tighten uncomfortably until there was not one centimetre of room between the two of you. You had tried to stay up late, hoping he would fall asleep first and give you some breathing room (or time to flee), but he never seemed to need the rest as much as you did. No matter how long you forced your weary eyelids open, he ran on constant energy, seemingly without exhaustion. 

He liked listening to your heartbeat, he had confessed once. He said it calmed him and eased his mind. In some small way, it gave you a twisted feeling of power to know that you, a regular citizen, could have such an effect on one of the greatest minds in the world. 

“There,” L pauses the security footage, jolting you out of your reminiscence, “he’s reaching out like he’s seen Kira,” he comments, “perhaps Kira was on the train with him.”

How he could come to such conclusions with such scant information, you would never know. 

Before you can reply, Watari’s entrance punctures your question, accompanied by a tray of sweet refreshments for the shaggy haired man.

After a moment, you try again, “Why do you think he does this? Kira, that is.”

Taking a bite of the green tea ice cream, L looks up thoughtfully.

“Kira and I are very much alike. Despite his ideals of justice, he is childish and hates losing. I am the same. I believe his motives for killing are a mixture of both his personality and his ideals. Every death is a challenge to justice, to me. Yet his choice of victims, shows that he believes he is making the world better. He wishes to force his own ideals upon the world, and I am here to stop him. It is as simple as that.”

A game…that was exactly how your relationship with L was. But for you, the stakes were your life and freedom. You were a prize that L won, and he would ensure at any chance that he would never lose you, even if it meant cheating. None of this kidnapping was about morality or misconstrued perception of righteousness. Even though L may have one of the most brilliant minds in the world, he has the emotional maturity of a spoiled child. What he covets, he ensures that he gets. Rejection or refusal is not an option. 

You supposed you should’ve realised much sooner with how immature he could be.

L always needed to prove that his intellectual prowess was stronger than anyone else’s. Anytime you admired anyone, be they fictional or non-fictional, he seemingly found all their flaws right after. It was clear he did not take any sort of rivals well. His jealousy of “rivals” was almost even cute.

Well, save for the fact that he kidnapped you. 

“Sometimes I wish I could open your head and see inside,” L interrupts your thoughts, the large, unblinking eyes peer through you, “especially when you’re so deep in thought like today.”

You look away from his fish-like eyes, crossing your arms. Even after becoming accustomed to living with him, his long, fixed stare never got any less unnerving. 

“Has it ever occurred to you,” you query, “how ironic this is from an outside perspective? You represent justice; you’re supposed to bring Kira down. And yet, you kidnapped me—took me from my old life to be your companion against my will.” 

The question doesn’t seem to phase him at all. “Each person will have their own perspective on morality, and this is mine. You should know that I won’t change my mind on this matter, even though you don’t agree with my actions.”

L turns the screen off, retiring from the collage of granular security footage. He turns to you, wrapping his arms around you and touching his nose to your neck. Your body, on instinct twitches to pull away, but you stiffen your muscles to halt the reaction.

You usually try not to think about the past, as it only makes you misty-eyed when you can do nothing to free yourself from your current predicament. But today, you can’t seem to help the bitter nostalgia from overflowing. How you miss the time where you could just follow the battle between L and Kira from a television. You missed how impersonal it was, as a law-abiding citizen, when you didn’t have to worry about L or Kira taking interest in you. Now you would never know that freedom until the finale of the two opposing forces. 

“How fortunate I am to have found you before anything could have happened to you.”

How fortunate for him indeed.