exothickbutter

l lawliet x fem!reader sick and tired of L's abysmal sleep schedule, you get creative in persuading him to rest. cw: nsfw (18+), smut, oral sex (m receiving) a/n: wrote this for one of my besties <3

“Hey, you.”

L doesn’t need to look away from his computer screen to know the way you’re standing. A pout on your face, an arm outsretched into an accusatory point. His smooth, lilted voice responds as his fingers continue clacking across his keyboard.

“Me?”

“Mhm,” you say. You stomp a little closer to his desk. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Hmmm. Based on your tone... too late for me to still be working?” he deadpans.

“Yeah. Way too late! It’s two in the morning, buddy,” you huff.

“At least the sun isn’t up yet,” he says.

synopsis: Anyone who knows L knows that he's got his own way of doing things. He values efficiency in his work. However, despite his almost robotic-like work ethic, he's not absolved from the feeling of arousal. L jerks off sometimes, but it takes long when he's alone. He knows already cums quick when thinking of you, so when you walk in on him one day and don't seem to mind, L thinks of a perfect proposition!

pairing: l lawliet x fem!reader

word count: 3.8k

tags/warnings: mentions of porn, male masturbation, cum licking, pervy L, walking in on L, L HAS BUSH, L is very straightforward, fucking your coworker, blowjob, brief mention of cunnilingus, UNCUT KING, whimpering, crying during sex, L licks up your tears, reader mentioned to have glasses, coworkers to lovers, chair sex, reader refers to L as "Ryu" until implied further into arrangement, "L" used in certain moments

a/n: larping bc i STILL haven't finished death note but like please L is my friend #larplarplarpsahur

divider cred: @chrisssiren

L Lawliet is a man of routine. Meticulous routine, that is. Routine that has allowed him to do efficiently what is called of him.

L’s unconventional. He works for days without sleep, his signature pose has him hunched over and his knees tucked up to his chest, he showers differently, he lives off of sweets to a degree that would probably be counterintuitive to the productivity of anyone else, and yet, no one bats an eye. Not when he was one of the greatest living detectives in the world. Not when there was a case as big as Kira needing to be solved.

All that being said, L’s quirks didn’t absolve him from the natural pulls of human instinct. He was human still, after all. When he worked too long, sleep would call, and he’d give in quite reluctantly, understanding its necessity but not without the thought of how much time he’d be wasting passing his mind. L saw these actions as simple roadblocks, tasks that needed to be completed in order for him to execute his job well, that opting to not give into these urges would most likely result in more harm than good. L wasn’t a stupid man. He knew what human limits were.

L’s relationship with sexual pleasure was not very exciting. At least, not before you. He discovered self pleasure like anyone else. Puberty boners and a damned need to make them go away, finding that if he rutted against his bed long enough this euphoric feeling would rip through him and last just few seconds before he’d beleft panting, satisfaction evident in the drool that manages to slip out the corner of his mouth.

As he got older, he discovered porn. He’d concluded early on that the end result of finishing was much more pleasurable when he had a stimulus to jerk off to. He noticed he liked looking when women bent over, when they had low-cut tops. He’d make mental notes of the color of their panties or their bras, using the stored memories to fuck his hand to during the nights he felt release was needed. So, the discovery of porn to him was…nice. Porn, he found, was convenient. He didn’t have to scrounge his mind for old memories, or leave his workspace to gain new ones. Porn gave him more than he was even looking for. It introduced his mind to an entirely new web of information; he gained tastes for certain categories and favored actions he saw in videos that one could deem “kinks.”

He didn’t have a purpose for much of this information though, aside from decreasing the search time for him when finding a video to jerk off to, it mostly buried itself in the farthest corner of his mind until he felt he needed to orgasm again.

Then you were put on the Kira investigative team.

And suddenly the need to masturbate came more frequently. He’d start to feel it in his gut when you were near him, arousal building in his lower abdomen when you leaned in closer to listen to what he had to say, how your lips looked wrapped around a strawberry plucked off his shortcake he so graciously offered you. Suddenly, he spent a little longer masturbating; it wasn’t only to get it over with anymore. He liked thinking of you.

When you leave his office he allows his mind to wander, like clockwork he’d have to relieve himself after working with you. He hums contentedly at the feeling of his cock swelling up, growing thicker and harder in his pants as he closes his eyes, the vision of the strawberry in your mouth transforming into his leaky red tip resting on your lips. His hips twitch into the seam of his jeans, just enough friction to elicit a gasp from his lips.

“Oh, god.” he hushes, steeling himself for a moment before slipping from his normally hunched position, and slouching in his office chair, letting his feet touch the cold floor below as he lifts his white shirt up higher to expose his abdomen. His pale skin lacks much hair, except for the patchy dark happy trail of his, leading to a much thicker, unkempt bush. 

Like routine, his slender fingers fiddle with his jeans, undoing the button, then the zipper, before sighing at the lack of restriction, and the light breeze from the colder room that ghosts over his sensitive dick, a wet spot visible at the front of it.

He pulls his pants down just enough, before peeling his sticky briefs off enough to free his cock, heavy and needy resting on his thigh, leaking more by the second.

L wraps a hand around himself, hissing at the contact, closing his eyes as he squeezes harder, working himself faster at the thought of you. Your pretty, wide eyes, your laugh, your thighs in the skirts you wear to work. God, he’d never felt this way about anyone before. Sure, he’s acknowledged when a woman was attractive, but you were more to him. He had an affinity for you. To your wit, your kindness, your easygoing attitude that charmed him the second you were brought on. You had him appreciating traits he didn’t care much about when it came to others.

Heavy, high-pitched huffs leave his mouth as he gets closer, twisting his fist harder, faster. His pre cum drips from his tip and falls down into his bush, traveling down the length of his cock and lubing his actions, actions that produced echoing, lewd, sloppy noises. Noises he shut his eyes to and envisioned to be your sopping pussy.

“F-fuck…I’m close.” He whispers to himself, more of a statement (it always is with him), so lost in his pleasure that he barely hears your voice at his door, knocking thrice. Every logical cell in his body tells him to stop and check but he can’t help himself. Maybe he was hallucinating your voice, maybe he was dreaming, maybe, just maybe, he wanted you to see him like this, a dirty, hopeful part of him that trusts you to reciprocate his feelings.

You walk in.

You walk in just as he’s cumming. An impressive amount of white shoots from his dick, covering the exposed expanse of his lean chest that heaves up and down. He makes no effort to open his eyes. He supposed it’s too late now.

He hears your gasp. He lets himself smile at it. You’ve got your hands clutched over your mouth and you sputter out apologies, but he notices you don’t make any motion to leave—not to run off down the hallway, not to curse him out in shock, not to shut the door and step out. In fact, he heard you step in.

And close the door. Behind you.

And for a moment it’s peaceful, if you try and see it that way. Neither of you speak. The room creates this bubble around the two of you. L gulps before finally opening his eyes, looking over to meet your widened ones.

“I suppose you’ve caught me.”

It’s so casual. A chill runs down your spine and you hate the way your eyes immediately flick back to his dick, framed by his dark pubes, hairs coated with dots of cum that reflect the light.

“Judging by your actions I can assume you’re not uncomfortable?” He asks knowingly, before reaching forward towards the tissue box on his desk, his other hand stretching out to you.

“Come closer.” “If you’re staying, that is.”

An airy chuckle escapes his lips as you listen, the recognizable sound of your heels clacking against the floor meeting his perky ears before coming to a pause. He watches the way you grab the tissues from his hand, a puzzled look crossing his face when you crumple them up and toss the ball onto his desk instead of using them to clean him up.

But his breath hitches when you drop down to your knees, watching the hesitance in your movements, catching the way you swallow down your nervousness, how he can tell you know he notices it. It’s comforting to know he is too though. L stammers out your name, hands clenching and unclenching while resting on the arm rests of his chair.

It’s clear you’re looking for some sort of reassurance, and when you find a glint of trust in his gaze you bend down, taking his soft dick in your mouth, licking off the residue of sticky sweet pre and his salty cum as he whimpers. L’s stomach tenses at the feeling of you lapping up the cum on his stomach, replacing the white puddles with glossy streaks of saliva in the shape of your tongue.

He thinks. His constant fantasy reciprocates his feelings and works alongside him. It makes perfect sense to start calling you into his office next time he needs to work off some arousal.

He propositions you the next day, calling you over after the work day is done, finding it sweet the way you come readily, sitting across from him in that tight skirt of yours, squeezing your thighs together as you fidget with your fingers in your lap.

“I was thinking…after yesterday.”

You swallow.

“You enjoyed that, correct?”

“I did, Ryuzaki.” “I-I apologize for walking in o—”

“No need.” He waves off your apology, before placing his hands back on his tucked knees.

“If you’re interested, I’d like to propose an arrangement.”

Your head tilts. “What do you mean, Ryu?”

“As you know, many of my habits are shaped by how efficiently they allow me to finish my work.” “However, this does not mean I do not respond to the natural urges of sexual release—as you were able to see. Noting your further choice of action yesterday I take it you’re more than understanding.”

“Therefore, I ask if you would be okay with me requesting you during my next bout of arousal.”

Stunned. That’s what you are. How could he say something like this so easily? Did he really mean it? Was it personal to you? So many questions ran through your head that you couldn’t find it in yourself to hide the surprise in your expression. Even so, you couldn’t deny the way his words made you clench around nothing, panties wetting at his direct tone, and initiative he didn’t even intend to have come off that way.

Your answer wasn’t very difficult to find.

———

“Oh…fuck! Ryu!” You cry, clawing at the skin of his back, nails painting him with red marks.

L’s got you on your back, you’re practically folded in half. He has you in the nastiest mating press, hips snapping into you hard as his eyes stay shut, consumed by the feeling of your gummy walls that squeeze at his length. He thinks that the feeling of sex should be something he’s used to by now, but instead, every time he sinks into you it’s unfathomable the amount of pleasure he feels. Familiar yet exciting, the rush of adrenaline making it feel like his first time with you every time.

His nimble fingers wrap around your ankles, securing himself with you underneath him as he continues to ram his cock inside of you, his tip kissing your sweet spot with every thrust. Dark strands of hair stick to L’s forehead damp with sweat. He’s not very chatty, only letting out heavy huffs and the occasional whimper when you clench around him particularly hard. Like when your hand reaches down to rub at your needy clit, the added sound of you rubbing your juices over yourself making his ears perk and his pace falter.

“Oh…wow, that feels good…hah..” “Are you feeling good?”

“It’s—oh..! Ryu…it’s so hmph! Deep…” you whine the hand you have slung around his shoulder moves to his jaw before cupping his face. Your thumb sits by the corner of his mouth before it’s taken into his. He sucks on it, whining and mumbling around the digit as the two of you near your orgasms. His next words make your stomach flutter, and your eyebrows scrunch as you get emotional at them.

“I-I…I want you to feel good too…it’s n-not just for me..” he says, meeting your sweet gaze. The sheer genuineness of it makes you want to melt, to give yourself over to him completely and entirely without a second thought, but you know that wouldn’t be smart. It’d be wrong to get your hopes up when the two of you had been doing this a while now with nothing of the sort.

But there was just something about it. Something about the past few months that you knew the both of you had noticed. The way your hesitant touches against each other's bodies grew practiced and knowing, how your sessions started to get longer, how he started to take his time pleasing you instead of making you orgasm in exchange for your help with his. You started to notice the way he’s picked up on what you enjoy, things you'd never said aloud, how he’d do them again and hum contentedly when you confirmed his observations, tugging on his hair as he held down your hips, laving his tongue over your weepy pussy.

You whine, eyes squeezing shut as his thrusts urge you closer to your release. You clench around him, toes curling. You don’t even realize that you're crying until you feel his tongue lap up your tears as they fall, cooing softly as he does, the wimpy tone of his voice letting you know he’s right there with you.

“D-Don’t cry, beautiful..” “I-Is it because it’s good?” He grunts, hips picking up pace.

“I’m—oh..!” “L…” you whisper, nearly silent. You deliver the moan right to his ear. It’s extraordinary.

Your pussy fucking milks him, sucking in all of what comes out of his dick as he fucks the two of you through it, shaking the bedframe as he overstims the both of you.

“Sh-shit…you are..incredible..”

———

It’s really not a shock to anyone around the two of you when the dynamic of your arrangement slips the mouth of Watari.

Whether they said it aloud or not, there was a clear shift in comfortability between the two of you—seats closer together, a hand on your shoulder, a cake offering from L. Yeah, if you weren’t secretly married, you had to be fucking. It didn’t affect his ability to work—so whatever.

———

Your phone buzzes again. A message from L.

I’d like for you to come over, please. Thank you.

You’re already smiling, a big wide grin on a woman excited to please, already starting to comb through your hair with your fingers and spritzing a little extra perfume, the scent of strawberry shortcake dusting all over you.

It’s how you end up here. Glasses tugged off your face and discarded elsewhere so he can get a better look at your eyes, watery and lovestruck from underneath his desk. You’ve got a mouth full of cock. Spit pools out the corners of your mouth during your pause, nostrils flaring as you breathe through your nose.

“Take a break if you have to.” He whispers softly, consideration evident in the way he brushes some hair out of your face, his touch gentle and appreciative.

A smile paints his features as you pull off, replacing your mouth with slow pumps of your hand that make his breath hitch.

“You look very beautiful.” He mutters softly.

You chuckle, licking your lips coated with his stringy pre and your spit, looking up at him almost bashfully.

“You think, Ryu?”

“Well. Truthfully, I have always found you to be quite breathtaking.”

His matter-of-fact praise makes you want to please him more, mouth latching back onto his heavy dick, bobbing your head and swirling your tongue around his sensitive head, pulling back his foreskin to tongue the underside. L tosses his head back while his grip in your hair tightens. His hips threaten to jerk up into your mouth and he stutters out apologies.

“It—oh…you’re so good at this…th-thank you..” he mumbles, his restraint slipping by the second before his hips are bucking into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat.

He groans as you hold there, the wet cave of your throat contracting around him as you gag on his cock, eyes half-lidded as you gaze up at him from where you are. Your nose and chin are buried in his unkempt bush, damp with drool as you desperately clutch at his thighs. The sharp sting of your nails combined with your throat has him whimpering, eyebrows scrunched as he praises you.

“Fuck…fuck..p-please..m-more..” he begs softly, nearly crying at the way you toy with his balls in response, rolling the skin in your hands as you swirl your tongue around him.

“Oh—yes..yes, I’m getting close..!” “Please.”

Suddenly, his orgasm tears through him. L’s eyes roll to the back of his skull and his body twitches ever so slightly off of the office chair, a sharp whine of your name leaving his lips. He jolts when you pull back, replacing your mouth with your hand as you jerk him off through his release. Your mouth sucks on his fat nuts, hand stroking up and down as white coats your pretty face, landing on your lips like white glaze on a donut.

“S-so…beautiful…” he pants out, stroking your temple. He catches the way you’re rutting against the heel of your shoe, gazing up at him with desperate eyes and he can’t help but be speechless at the sight.

“Th-thank you, for that.” “I’d like you to come up now.” He murmurs, watching the way you rise at his command, letting yourself be pulled into his lap before he’s wiping his cum off of your face.

“You’re feeling needy now.” He hums, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, Ryu..there’s no need to—”

He cuts you off with a brief shush, stroking your hair.

“I want to.”

Behind you, L’s got his other hand wrapped around himself, stroking his dick back to being erect, watching the way you’re all wide-eyed and confused before he’s slipping a hand down to the hem of your skirt, and hiking it up over your hips from there. He smiles as you gasp, noting the way the beating of his heart quickens at it. You feel as a slender finger catches the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your thighs.

“This is alright?” he confirms, dark eyes meeting yours.

When you nod, he’s already grinding his cock against your folds, slapping it against you a few times just to hear the wet thud that echoes.

“Mmmphh..please..! I need it..!” You whine, pouty.

“Mhm. Patience.”

In reality, you don’t have to wait long at all. For as consequential as it might be in other contexts, he has a weak spot for you.

L starts to fill you up, stuffing your pussy full all the way to the brim. You swear you can feel him in your stomach as he starts bucking up with shallow thrusts. You sling your arms around his shoulders in response, desperate for an anchor as he relieves the ache that had been building inside of you for the last hour.

L’s hands find your waist, his grip tightening before he starts fucking you hard, ramming up into you with a surprising amount of force, like every thrust is meant to prove a point, like he’s trying to tell you something with each one. He never shuts his eyes. Instead, he trains them on you, like he needs to watch the way you fall apart for him. You were his first, and now he couldn’t dream of wanting or having anyone else. On top of the way you clench around him, there’s this never-leaving flutter in his chest that he can’t quite put a name to. All he knows is that it’s particularly pronounced whenever something involving you comes up. He used to think it was something to do with when you two had sex. Then, he noticed it when you hugged him, then the flutter was back when you were just working together, then finally, he realized his chest would tighten just at the thought of you.

“Ryu! S-so good!” You cry, snapping him out of his trance.

L leans down to kiss you. It’s messy and not necessarily “hot” but there’s something so very L about it that makes you weak. He laps at your drool, mumbling barely coherent words through it all, savoring the way you go limp against him. His cock never lets up pace, and as if that wasn’t enough, his thumb finds your poor, needy clit, rubbing circles that egg you on. 

“You’re getting close.” He points out, his voice breaking half-way through as he teeters on his own climax.

“Mmmphhh! Mhm!”

He huffs through his nose, connecting your foreheads together when he can tell you’re only a few more thrusts away from cumming, his lips pressing a gentle kiss onto your nose bridge–sustained and intimate.

“Hah..ah! L…” you choke out into his ear as you finally gush, so sweet and wimpy and overwhelmingly sincere in tone, and it makes him want to fuck his cum into you harder, to bury it so deep it stays and doesn’t leak out. 

Fuck, you were amazing. You were his.

As you lie there, panting, sweaty bodies on top of each other, L takes the moment to steel himself, finding comfort in the way your pussy pulses every once in a while, the two of you oversensitive and exhausted.

“Hey.” He hums to you.

You meet his tired gaze with one of your own, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, Ryu?”

“Could I say something…unproffesional?”

You laugh, and his breath catches at the twinkle in your eye that you always have when you’re about to say something witty.

“Unproffessional?” “Then no.” You quip sarcastically.

He laughs with you.

“Okay, okay. I’ll say what I was thinking of.”

There’s a pause.

“I think, since we’ve started this…” he says, referencing your arrangement. “I’ve been able to identify my feelings towards you much better than before. Feelings of…fondness.” “Frankly, what I’m trying to say is…I have romantic feelings for you.” “I wanted you to know.”

You could almost yelp with how surprised you are. Oh, how nice it was to know all those times you chided yourself for being delusional were wrong. You’d never been so ecstatic about being incorrect before.

“Oh…you have no idea,” You whisper, taking his face in your hands before peppering it all over with kisses, not stopping even when he tries to speak again.

“Alright,” he laughs happily as you finally relent, holding the both of your hands in his. “I assume you feel the same then.” 

"I Cannot Be Fucking Stopped.