#🍒.poppedcherries

[arminsleftnut]

Aaa ok so I’d love anything related to toxic/manipulative light Yagami x reader, I’m not really sure for what happens tho,, preferably gets to nsfw too. Thanks aaaa

i actually just posted some toxic light content ! daphne’s lament but if you want another one of anything specific just let me know <333

[arminsleftnut]

hi i deleted the fucking ask on accident so:

@ikiraobsessed i’m SO sorry here’s your request, i hope this is what you wanted <3

CONTENT WARNING: dark content (minors if u interact i will call ur fucking parents), sacrilege, mentions of religion, implied yandere themes, yagami light x fem!reader, god complex & sadism (light being... himself), mentions of death/death of an older sister and reader’s parents (it’s light), toxic relationship, light is manipulative as fuck, kira worshipper reader, naïve/virgin reader, sub!reader, fear play, light is fucking insane, mishandling of virginity (idk how to explain that light is just a mistake), rough sex, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, choking /breath play, reader does not have a safe word (be responsible kids), unprotected sex, breeding kink, god kink, overstimulation, masochism, praise

daphne — a beautiful nymph that caught the attention of the

god apollo, and could not escape him in the end.

the soft thrum of rain against the outside walls was, in many ways, bittersweet. the sound of rain was soothing, nurturing; it made you feel free, renewed, like a sapling unfurling from fresh, damp soil. but now? now it only reminded you that you were trapped. only a few walls separated you and the outside storm, yet it felt like a chasm— one you didn’t dare try to cross. there was no anchor for you anymore, no wings to spread nor roots to unfurl. you were bound here, to him.

the room you were in was dim, lit only by the hallway light and the occasional bright flash of lightning outside. it was an eerie sort of sight; it reminded you of the Catholic Church you had once attended with your parents, and then had gone there after, alone, to find answers for the death of your sister. you had pleaded on your knees, rosary in hand, begging to just understand.

your older sister was a saint. she’d never spoken a harsh word to anyone, not even you, even in the darkest pits of her anger. not even to your parents, who for all their regurgitated sermons on the kindness of god, seemed to have no answers for you when you asked why he’d taken your sister away. they hadn’t even cried. your father had attended confession one last time, and they had never gone back. you were left to search for answers alone. you found none, and you found no god in the empty pews or hollow statues of mary.

but you had found him here. in the dark bedroom within a pretty suburban home, you’d found god, and as he towered over you, his large form encasing you against the bed, you were terrified.

how could you not be? light was— something else entirely. he had offered you answers, and when he’d punished your parents for the crimes he knew they’d inevitably commit, he’d left you no room to question his power. he’d done so much for you, for the world, how could he be anything but a god?

you thought, perhaps, you ought to be on your knees before him; you’d knelt so readily when you’d first met him, it was strange that he hadn’t asked you to do so again. no, he had a different form of worship for you, he’d said. and as you lay there, trembling in the cage of his arms, a traitorous part of you wondered if he’d damned you instead.

“you’re shaking.” light’s observation was smooth, flippant, and there was a hint of a smile in his voice that made your insides twist; whether that was good or bad, you didn’t know. it did not feel kind, but gods never were, you supposed.

you opened your mouth, wishing you had an answer and all at once realizing it was likely for the best that you didn’t. there was no answer you could give him that wouldn’t hurt him. he had done so much for you, he was a hero, how could you tell him that you feared him still?

for better or worse, you did not have to speak at all. light’s hand was deceptively gentle when he wrapped it around your throat, his long fingers digging lightly into the sides of the fragile flesh; not hard enough to stop you from breathing, but still, you froze beneath him. he smiled, and it was both beautiful and terrifying.

“do you think I’d hurt you?” there was no malice in the question that you could hear, only what sounded like genuine curiosity. still, you didn’t move. you didn’t want to hurt him, anger him— his fingers tightened just so. “answer me.”

slowly, you nodded.

surprisingly, there was no hints of anger twisting his expression, no hurt contorting his lovely face. you realized you hadn’t upset him, and it was only then did your heart start beating again. you didn’t even notice that he was still grinning.

“oh, sweet girl,” he cooed, his thumb brushing the underside of your jaw in a tender gesture that made you tremble even more, “how could you think that? you’ve given me so much.”

you have. you’ve given him everything. your time, your mind, your heart. your body was all that was left, and as much as you didn’t want to be, you were petrified of giving him that as well.

but he didn’t take this time. he gave instead.

“this isn’t a punishment, love.” his words were gentle against your lips, and despite his reassurance, you weren’t sure what he was referring to— the way he was touching you, or the soulless bodies of your parents only a few houses down. they were deplorable, greedy, they were going to take you from him. “i don’t punish innocence. you know that. i reward it.”

you did know that; and when his head was between your legs, his tongue flattened against your swollen clit, it felt like a reward. he devoured you wholly, as he’d always done, and you adored it. he let you tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer and holding him to your weeping cunt as you rocked desperately against his face. it was too much too much too much, and when he forced your legs back, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs hard enough to bruise as he forced you to cum on his tongue yet again , you didn’t dare complain— not even as tears pricked your eyes and your entire body trembled.

part of you still wondered, somewhere in the back of your hazed mind, if he actually did mean to punish you. the aching burn between your legs when he’d forced his cock inside you, pushing past any resistance with ease, it was too big, god it was too big, made you sure you must’ve displeased him somehow. but the groan that left him when he was fully seated inside you was nothing short of divine, reminding you of his promise. he wouldn’t hurt you, you reminded yourself through a haze of tears as he fucked into you, so this must not be pain.

it was your own cries that echoed throughout the room, shrieks and sharp squeals drowning out the rumble of thunder outside. he was unforgiving as he abused your pretty cunt, his mouth against your ear, spilling rough praises of how good you were, how proud he was of you, how well you were taking him, and his tongue caught each tear that fell down your cheek. he promised to give you everything, reward you with his children, because you’d given him so much, you deserved the privilege.

you could say nothing, only able to plead for something you couldn’t decipher as you came around him, your vision turning white as he followed soon after, emptying himself inside you, giving you everything he promised.

it was only when the daze lifted and you lay there, the stickiness of his cum trickling out of you and staining your inner thighs, that you realized he meant to keep you rooted here, immortalized in his image. a reward. a blessing.

you thought it might’ve been a curse instead.

[arminsleftnut]

levi and erwin monster cocks where i can see the bulges it creates when thevtwo cocks enter me 🥺

u have such a beautiful brain. erwin coos at you and wipes away your tears but levi only scoffs and reminds you that you asked for this and you should be grateful they’re giving you one at all, much less both <3

[arminsleftnut]

hi!! i’m so excited to see a blog that writes for death note, it’s become a recent hyperfixation of mine and i can’t find any good fics!!! 💗💗💗💗

could you provide some nsfw content for L? any is fine really, hc’s or a full drabble if you’d like!! i’m desperate for L content lol 💗💗

YES oh my god of course 💗💗 deathnote is one of mine too (i rewatch it like once a week) n L is my major comfort character. i did a kinda cross between a drabble and headcanons for this! I hope it’s what you were looking for <333

CONTENT WARNING: smut (MDNI, 18+), female-bodied reader (gender-neutral pronouns), fingering, begging, mild pain kink, overstimulation, L being .. himself and also mildly obsessive, voyeurism (read: L is a creep misa was right), slightest bit of dubcon if you squint, masturbation, pillow humping, dom!L and yes i will die on this hill, sub!reader, L is actually a little mean in this one, dacryphilia, thigh slapping, fluff at the end if you squint, let me know if i need to add more!

i.

being physically intimate with L was something you never really considered when you first got together. you weren’t even sure sex was something that was on his radar; he had so many other things to think about, and physical pleasure seemed like something he didn’t pay any mind to.

and you were right— for the most part. it’s not something L ever stops to consider. it’s not that he’s necessarily disinterested, it’s just never been a priority. he usually just takes care of himself when the urge arises.

with you here, though, it’s different. he’s not alone anymore, and your own desires are something he assumes he needs to factor in, and as many times as you assure him that it’s completely okay if he doesn’t want to have sex, that you can take care of it yourself and it’s a nonissue, he’s still . . . curious.

he’s seen you before on the monitors; those times late at night when everyone else has gone to bed and you forget there’s cameras everywhere, that he can see everything you do. he watches you as you’re spread out on the shared bed he rarely sleeps in, slipping your fingers in and out of your little cunt, your mewls and soft whines carrying through the speakers and shooting straight to his cock. he wonders if it’s wrong to watch you like this, but even as he ponders if misa amane was correct, that he is a pervert, he still doesn’t tear his gaze away from the screen. there is the possibility you hadn’t forgotten about the cameras at all. perhaps you wanted him to see.

he doesn’t say anything, less to save you any possible embarrassment and more because he’s found that a subject is least genuine when they know they’re being observed. it’s human nature, he knows, to alter yourself beneath the lens of others, to hide, and he doesn’t want that. this is a side of you he hadn’t considered might exist— an obvious oversight, and one he aims to correct.

that was how L always was. he loves you, yes, you can say that confidently. but as quiet and soft-handed a man as he is, his love is not simple, nor is it gentle. like him, it’s invasive and relentless. it’s not uncommon for you to feel somewhat neglected, or that perhaps he forgets about you altogether, but he never does. in fact, it’s quite the opposite. you are just as much a fixation, a complex puzzle to be torn apart and examined as any case, and rarely does a minute go by in which he doesn’t think of you. it’s perhaps not as romantic as you might like, with his owlish gaze pinned on you whether through a monitor or when you’re sitting next to him, picking apart every detail, but you can’t say he doesn’t pay attention to you. sometimes, you think he pays too much.

when he finally touches you, it’s no different.

he watched for weeks before he broached the idea. the hours you spent trying to satisfy yourself, with your hand between your legs or rutting desperately against a pillow— yet you never seemed truly satisfied. it was obvious in your expression, face screwed up cutely in obvious distress, frustrated tears welling in your eyes and streaking prettily down your flushed cheeks. you could only ever take two of your own fingers, he noticed; you’d tried more a few times, seeming to find your own two small ones dissatisfactory, but you could never quite make it, leaving you in a painful limbo that always has you in a particularly sour mood the next time he speaks with you.

the more he watched, the more he realized how truly unsatisfied you were. one night, you spent thirty minutes rocking against your pillow, and despite the wetness that darkened your pretty panties, you eventually gave up, tossing the ruined pillow away from you with a small, frustrated shriek. he wondered why; and more still, why he suddenly found his own hand unsatisfying, and why he could only curve his own thoughts with ones of you on the monitor, spread out prettily.

it was horribly distracting, really. and with anything else, L had to make sense of it.

in the end, he ends up with more questions than answers.

it’s not his fault, really. it’s yours. you’re so fascinating to study, and so eager to let him learn. you’d been so utterly pliant as he pried your thighs apart, stuttering out reassurances that he didn’t have to do this, asking over and over if he was sure. he doesn’t bother to tell you that this wasn’t for you— he wouldn’t be able to think properly until he’d gotten his answers.

there’s none of the awkward hesitation you might’ve expected, no unsure fumbling of hands or knocking teeth. no, L is sure of this as he is anything else he studies, tearing it apart as he sees fit until he’s satisfied with the conclusion. you’re no different, and he’s just as relentless as he always is.

there’s a certain desperate edge to it when he touches you, like he’s trying to tear everything from you by force. he watches you squirm beneath him, mewling and pleading incoherently as the walls of your pretty cunt spasm around his fingers for what feels like the thousandth time (it would seem you can, in fact, take three), and the only thing he can think of is how many more you’ll be able to give him. surely this isn’t your breaking point? no, he knows better, that can’t possibly be it. you can take more, and he tells you so, deafened to your mindless babbling and choked sobs as you try to push him away.

it’s strange that you do that. you get so upset when he actually does pull away:

he has to pin your hands down eventually; clawing at him the way you are is only a hindrance, and it reduces his overall effectiveness significantly. fortunately, you seem to learn quickly, responding especially well to a sharp slap to your inner thigh. (he isn’t sure if it’s a carrot or a stick, given the way you clench around his fingers when he does it. regardless, it works, so he does it again).

it really only occurs to him to stop when your body seizes again, this time falling entirely limp, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he might’ve worried, but your eyes flutter open only a few seconds later, and it’s then that he considers that you might be rather exhausted.

“are you alright?” his voice is quiet, hoarser than normal, and uncharacteristically gentle. he cocks his head at you, the puppy-like gesture such a stark contrast to the delightful hell he was inflicting on you only moments before that you can’t help but giggle tiredly.

at your assurance that you aren’t on the verge of collapse, not anymore at least, he takes time to clean you up, his touch feather-light and familiar in its softness. he lets you cling to him, winding his awkwardly long body around you in a sort of cradle, tucking your head beneath his chin.

he counts the minutes until you fall asleep, measuring your breaths against his own. as much as he enjoys tearing you apart to see what’s inside, there’s a strange satisfaction in putting you back together again.

this is my first published smut i apologize in advance.

[arminsleftnut]

taglist.

rules— #nahnisrules

nsfw— #🍒.poppedcherries

sfw— #🌸.cherryblossoms

asks — #nahnispeaks

ideas — #🥧.nahnisbakery

headcanons — #🍒.cherrytree

fic recs— #🍒.fruittrees

more tba!