Emily. 20 years old, baby! She/Her. Multifandom writer and smut enthusiast, so watch where you stick your nose. Anti-AI--your slop is not welcome here nor anywhere else, and it has no place in my writing/art. Art-For-Art Trades are open.
Since I'm a multifandom writer, my drabbles and images can get a bit mixed up and lost in other posts and reposts. To fix that, I'm making an Ultimate Masterlist for all of my stories! If something intruiges you, please check it out!
All the tags should be grouped for their fandoms if a story isn't listed here explicitly. If it's not, I'll be sure to go through and fix that!
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Requests are open!
My Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtiZticWriter77
General Profile Post w/ other links and information
A/N: Another quarter for the kink jar...I won't say I'm ashamed with this one. It's the longest one yet, and I can't promise it's the most perfect thing written. That said -- I hope you find it enjoyable! There's a bit of sweetness dribbled in there among the smut, so don't worry.
CW: Smut, Hybrid AU, Heat/Rut Cycles, Draconic Ryūnosuke, Territorial Ryūnosuke, Scent Marking, Marking, Bite Marking, Light Bondage, Light impact play, Incorrect Use of Rashomon, PIV, Reader with female genitals (but other wise gender-neutral), No use of Y/N for Reader, Breeding, Oviposition, Egg laying, Egg inflation? (Question Mark?), Clit Play, Oral, Sensory Deprivation, Fingering, Two lengths (you heard it, TWO), Edging, Denial, Praise, Light Degradation.
Word Count: 11.3k+ (My personal best to date! Everybody clap!)
It's too hot; The scents of the world are far too strong for Akutagawa's agitated mind right now. Sweet and salty. Sour and savory. Damp and arid. The scales along his body rub against his clothes in a way that's utterly agonizing. Coarse and uncomfortable, like cotton against dry, cracking skin. It's torture. Where hair meets horn is like thousands of ants skittering, and he wants nothing more than to scratch until the skin is raw.
He should have taken the day off today, but he refused to let his biology dictate his usefulness on the field.
In his defense, it seemed he had done his assignments in record time. He likely could have done with less bloodshed, but a job was a job, and he had executed them without fail. As he always did. He was not going to allow himself to fall short
Though — now — he was sorely regretting that decision.
The long trek to the apartment felt more arduous than usual. His ebony tail twitched in erratic agitation, snapping in the air as he fought down a growl. The cool, night air did nothing for his dwindling patience as the heat surged. Deep in the pockets of his black coat, his hands clenched tightly. He could vaguely register the claws digging into the thin flesh of his palms as he fought to keep himself focused on the path ahead. It was more of a challenge than he cared to admit.
He only wanted to get home; Something in his blood craved even the smallest hint of your scent. Of your warmth. To tug you close and bury his fangs in your skin if it would calm the fire blazing in his veins.
Just a little bit longer now. Nearly too long in his slowly hazing mind.
A faint whiff caught him in his tracks. He had nearly made it to the door when it slammed into his senses. It was familiar in a way he wished it wasn't. The calm scent of warm tea, fresh, fallen snow, and the underlying notes of a light soapiness that only infuriated him. The hackles on the back of his neck shot up in offense, mind clearing in an instant.
The Weretiger.
Surely that insufferable tiger wouldn't be idiotic enough to step into his territory — into his home. Anybody smarter would understand the presence of his scent — dark, smoky, with the noticeable tang of copper — as a hair-raising warning. It didn't take a genius to understand that wasn't a boundary you simply crossed, and Ryū quietly swore that if he opened the door to a twitching, white tail, he was going to tear the kid apart.
Stepping to the door, he roughly slammed the key into the lock, twisted and swinging the door wide open with a bit more force than you would likely deem was necessary. In fact, he could vaguely register your voice hissing his name at the explosive entrance, but he was too busy scanning the apartment for even a hint of white fur that he needed to tear apart.
A twitch.
A step.
A breath.
Just one little bit was all he needed.
Though, as he stood there, there didn't come the obvious presence of anyone else in the house. Nothing Ryū could feel, and his ears strained for even the slightest shift of a nervous muscle, only to find none.
The scent, however, was even stronger here than it had been outside, despite the seeming fact that the rest of the home was clear of any threat. He turned his nose at the putrid onslaught and sneered, shutting the door roughly behind him. It was in every fiber of his being, now, and he felt nothing but pure confusion. It shouldn't be possible for it to be this potent without the source being there himself.
Panic gripped him; Had the feline broken in when they had gone their separate ways to work?
No, his mind fought. Even the kid wasn't that reckless or invasive. Even on the field, he made sure to keep a wide birth from Akuatagawa's rampaging ability. It couldn't have been a home invasion, though his instincts didn't grow any less furious.
"Hey, is everything alright?" Your voice called out, and he watched as you shifted to step off of the couch. Curiously, the scent seemed to move with you — he tensed. Your wide eyes stared back at him in nothing but utter confusion — and his chest grew even more uncomfortably itchy. Ryū's nose lifted high up, tail tensing as all the worries came to pass.
Fury raced through his veins; It was coming from you. In fact, it seemed to be bathing your form in that heady, headache-inducing scent, and he could spy short, white fur scattered here and there across your clothes. You looked at him incredulously as he scanned your person. All he could focus on were the clothes soaked in Atsushi's scent — clothes rubbing his couch. How many other things had that vile scent been rubbed across?
That weretiger was bold, Ryū would give him that, but you were bolder — it seemed. Foolishly plastering his pungent, younger scent all over his mate that could've had anybody fooled, and you had let him? How many people had been led to believe that the beast was your beloved instead? It left his blood boiling. A desperate, marrow-deep need to hunt the mangy beast down to teach him a lesson reared its nasty head.
His steps towards the couch were silent, but no less furious. Behind him, he could feel his tail jittering erratically as he grew nearer until he was close enough that he could touch his nose against yours. Your breath hitched in his ears and he resisted letting out a rumble of pride. That dark gaze caught your eyes widening, his own pupils shrinking at the shock that pumped through your blood. He could hear your blood pumping faster at the close proximity, and he nearly smirked as the sound pulsed in his mind.
Rarely did he ever get in your face like this — annoyed and terrifyingly serious like he had some score to settle, a sharpness to his expression that he only held for enemies. He felt your hands against his chest, pressing as it rumbled under the warmth of your palms, against his better judgment. Ryū refused to admit the effect it had on him, and it was only fueled by the symptoms of his pre-rut hitting this week. His gaze swept your face and observed silently as your brows furrowed deeply.
"Is everything alright?" Your voice repeated softly, eyes dragging across his sharp expression, flicking between the points of his teeth to the fierce, concentrated look in his stony eyes. "Did something happen today that I need to know about? You usually don't come home this…pissed, and that's generally saying something."
He didn't move an inch — just continued to stare as his tail twitched along the ground behind him. You squirmed under his heavy gaze, and one of his hands came down to pin your shoulder against the couch.
Squirming only made his instincts stronger, like prey trembling before an approaching predator.
Ryū's gaze drifted down across the expanse of your neck to the small orb held on a strong, silver chain around your neck. The pure, white pearl sat in the cradle of your collarbones. Iridescent shimmers danced in the light across the surface, crackling with a low energy as he viewed his own, warped reflection.
His pearl.
The low rumbling turned into heavy purrs, the ornery fire in his blood soothing just a hair at the sight of his most prized treasure still around your most vital point. Then, the flames were building up inside him once again. You held his pearl — his very life — as close as it could be to your heart, and that insufferable feline still deigned to cake your skin in his claim. Ryū would need to somehow prove that you weren't someone to be claimed by anyone's scent but his own, and he doubted the idea of letting him shadow you everywhere would be allowed to fly.
Not that he really cared either way, but it was worth it to keep his sanity against any incessant nagging. That, and he wasn't about to be seen as the 'clingy' type.
His eyes trailed lower and lower, catching sight of the sliver of skin of your belly that had been revealed by your shirt riding up. He could feel a wave of heat crawling up the skin of his back, fury rustling along the edges of his coat.
How perfect.
His eyes snapped back up, pupils thinning to sharp slits as a crazed smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and showed off razor-sharp canines. His other hand — claws retracting from where they were still sunk into the cushion of the couch — feathered over your flushed cheek, the back of one nail dragging along your jaw. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he knocked your chin up to meet his narrowed gaze.
"You reek of him." He snarled, red lightning dancing across his scales and clothes. "And you've brought it to our home. Do you understand how torturous it is to smell that annoying beast in my space? I won't entertain a challenge like this when you're my mate." His voice coiled in your mind like a vice. Sharp nails ghosted down along the skin of your neck and toyed with the collar of your shirt, a threat veiled in black tips. "We'll need to fix this…mistake."
You opened your mouth to respond, but Ryū didn't even give a second of reaction time before he pushed himself back to stand upright. Coils extended from the fabric of his coat to entwine securely around your body and lift you from the cushions. A rough tug, and he carted you away in the air behind him, striding towards the bedroom as his tail lashed behind him. He was utterly displeased at the idea of that idiot getting that close to you. Had Atsushi been allowed to rub against your neck, where his pearl hung?
Even if it wasn't the case, the very mental image of it was enough to leave him livid.
Thanks to Rashōmon, Ryū could feel your heart racing just under your skin through the black cloth bindings. His tail gave an excited twitch against the floor as he walked — already, he could tell your muscles were tensing in quiet realization of what kind of 'danger' you were in for the night. He was silent the short walk to the bedroom, leaving you in suspense just to really enjoy the squirming.
When he finally threw the door open, he didn't hesitate to toss you unceremoniously to the bed, reveling in the yelp of surprise that echoed out as your body bounced against the mattress. Binds shot out across the room, wrapping securely around your head to cover your eyes.
In the meanwhile, as you squirmed from the sudden lack of sight, he locked onto you, eyes sharp and all too predatory. A singular bind snaked out from behind him to wrap around the edge of the door. He gave a throaty rumble of a chuckle before snapping it shut back into the frame. The hearty slam had you jumping in your spot.
Just under the wrap, he could feel your lashes fluttering against Rashōmon's grip. It tickled through his senses and he fought down a shudder at the feathery sensation. Just under Atsushi's potent scent, he could smell yours — sweetening and thickening with an arousal you likely wouldn't voice yourself.
"R-Ryū?" You gulped audibly. He watched your hands scatter over the top of the bed, feeling where you couldn't see. Your hands reached up for the binds and he hissed lowly, pleased when you ripped them away from the dark cloth. "You know I don't like being left in the dark like this."
He did know, yes, but you'd be alright.
It was silent as he moved, shifting closer until he was pouncing, covering your mouth just as you yelled in surprise. No noises needed here, except what he could drag deliciously out of your throat.
"Quiet." Ryū murmured darkly, nudging against your ear with a nip before soothing it with his forked tongue. His chest pressed down heavily against your own. "Your words are useless. Only your sounds and begs will suffice here, mate."
His hand didn't let up from where it covered your mouth. Using the grip, he turned your head to the side to bare the expanse of your throat to him. Just under the skin of your neck, he could hear your racing heart, the violent pounding of your veins ricocheting in his brain. Over that, your scent buried itself deep in his mind. He wouldn't last much longer like this.
He nipped at the angry lifeline and smirked against your neck at the low sound of pleasure muffled against his palm. Behind him, his tail shuffled over the sheets in quiet delight.
He needed you. Now.
Smooth bindings slipped under your shirt, and you tensed for only a moment before his low rumbles were soothing it out of you. You could hear your own heart in your ears as he moved over you. Sharp inhales when his touches ghosted over your skin before drawing away. Always leaving you guessing. Always leaving you wanting more.
You wanted to smack him. You hated when he did this—leaving you in the dark to anticipate his next moves tersely. A swirling cocktail of anxiety and arousal coursed deep in your veins, and Ryū gave a sharp laugh, as if hearing it all like the song of a crystal bell.
"Tense?" His voice broke through the dark, warm like steam as it rose over hot coals. Warmth you only ever had the privilege to experience behind closed doors like this. Noting your silence, he continued:
"Can't exactly imagine why. After all, this is all your fault in the end." Hands, warm and unyielding, tugged you further down the bed by your hips. Your brows furrowed at his words, eyes blinking uselessly in the direction of his voice.
"What the hell are you talking about?" You hissed, unamused at this supposed 'blame.' "I don't seem to recall asking you to come home in an attitude and just whisk me off to the bedroom. You stared me down as if I'd just set your beloved coat on fire, or something. I don't have a single clue what you're talking about with Atsushi's scent."
Sleek fabric wrapped snug over your lips, muffling any words. Despite not being able to see, you could just feel the incredulous stare he was aiming towards you. The words faltered in your throat as he hissed.
"Watch it." His voice cut through your bones, terrifyingly serious. "He's not allowed to exist in this moment. Not by name. Not by thought. And soon enough, not by smell. I come home to you caked in his scent, and I suppose I'm just supposed to let it go?" A sharp bark of a laugh echoed through the room, though it held nothing but condescension. "Lays claim to my mate and I'm to pretend nothing more is happening?"
Fury rose in your veins.
"Ryūnosuke," your hands grabbed his where they rested on your hips, "if you are going to sit here and accuse me of cheating, then we have more pressing matters than scents."
He was quiet for a moment, and you tried to track his direction. His breath was quiet enough for you to not be able to sense it . Trembling hands went still under yours, and there was the unmistakable twitch of his tail against the sheets.
"Apologies." The draconian male finally murmured after a long, terse moment, realizing his mistake. "That was…an ill-advised assumption on my part. My concern still stands, however. You smell like him, and I will not stand for it. Thus, the only logical solution is to make sure your skin can't forget mine."
A bind was slapped right over your mouth then, and you gave a muffled yell in indignation. You could at least explain it, but he was already moving on. There was the warmth of his lips as they pressed against the fabric over your mouth — a searing heat separated by nothing more than cloth.
His lips pressed to where the corner of your mouth would be, trailing seductively down your chin, along the length of your jaw, and down your racing pulse. It danced just underneath your skin, and you shuddered as his teeth pricked slightly in a sadistic show of power. Off to the side of it, he lapped over the healed mating bite on your shoulder. Soon, it would be renewed.
The warmth of his kisses moved lower and lower, and you instinctively arched up into him to follow the feeling.
Warm lips trailed down the bared expanse of your throat, licking, and nipping at the skin as he moved to the cradle of your collarbones — right beside where his pearl sat. Kissing the bone, his nose nudged the orb. He murmured in the hollow of your throat before sharp teeth were baring down into the bone without an ounce of remorse. The bed creaked under his shifting movements.
Trickles of pain bloomed across your nerves, sizzling with a burning that had you crying against Rashōmon's bind before it fizzled out in an ebb of pleasure. He peppered the flushed skin with countless bites, nearly purring in pride. He was teasing you, that sick bastard.
And, yet, you needed more of it.
He gave one of the swelling wounds a slight lick. Hardly an apology. It was more of an acknowledgment of the pain he was administering. Maybe the slightest bit of remorse, but not enough to see without truly understanding him.
Ryū moved further down your skin, alongside a hand smoothing up along your side under your shirt until finally reaching where the collar sat. There, it went still for a breath. The warmth of his palm settled heavy against your skin and you fought a whine at the stillness.
Soon after, another blade of cloth could be felt as it caressed across your cheek and slid down the open collar, over your chest, and stopped at the waistband of your shorts. It rested there, brushing over the skin over your belly. One clean snap of the ability and your shirt was split clean in half, allowing it to fall open to Ryū's well-adjusted gaze. You made a sound of displeasure against the bind over your mouth, but the ability swallowed it with the dark fabric.
You could feel his heated gaze roving over your newly exposed skin, the bind over your mouth tightening in response to his growing arousal. He gave an amused huff at the sound from your throat.
"Something to say?" He remarked all-too-smugly, another cloth sliding over your stomach and resting against your chest. You squirmed again, unamused, and were rewarded with a sharp 'thwack". The skin stung under the snap and you gave a gasp of delight at the feeling. He continued on, unfaltering. "Don't mistake my questions as permission, pearl-bearer. You're not some bug — so I expect that you don't squirm."
You had half a mind to grumble back mockingly, but something told you the repercussions that awaited that move were not worth the trouble. Denial would be great any other night, but not tonight — so you complied and steadily stilled once more. With a low hum, he continued on.
The white tips of his bangs tickled delicately across the skin of your chest. Peppering relentless bites along the warm skin, his tongue flicked tentatively at your pert nipples, and you gave a shiver of pleasure.
Cool, sharp air bit at your saliva-coated nipples, sparks of need flaring along your veins. Your hand twined in the pillow under your head and your hips rolled up sharply. Again, his tongue flicked out. And, again, the sensation roused a tidal wave of shudders through your body.
You could just barely hear the sound of a low chuckle building in his throat before his warmth was pulling away. Instinctively — and with the slightest bit of panic — a whimper curled from your throat as the cold air of the room fanned over your body. Warmth pressed against the pulsing mound between your thighs, and you stiffened. After a moment, your hips gave a sharp jerk for some desperate point of friction. When the mass shifted, and you felt the end of something pointed, that's when realization dawned. His tail.
"Ah, so you can tell. You're more observant than I give you credit for." The tail shifted, allowing you to press up and grind against it fully for just this moment. "Enjoy it, won't you? You won't have it there for long.
The words coated your mind like a frigid frost, but you didn't care. All you could think of was how you'd ride it like it was the last grind toy on earth. Pressing your swollen clit up against the smooth scales, and dragging your hips in a frantic staccato. No doubt you'd cry out his name like it was everything you'd ever need for the rest of your life.
Eventually, an arrow of harsh reality pierced through your daydream, and the warmth of his tail was now gone. Your eyelids fluttered, eyes unfocused in the pitch darkness under the tight, living blindfold over your eyes. It was amusing how, for someone that claimed to despise aimless torture, he seemed far too good at stringing your desperation along like some helpless puppet.
The cloth across your eyes shifted and drew away in a snap, rendering your eyes to the brightness of the room. The bind slipped from your mouth with lightening speed. Bright, unforgiving light blasted your retinas, fishing out a sharp, irritable hiss and forcing your hands to slam over your face.
"The fuck…?" You croaked, blinking away the bright spots and taking a moment to register that all that had been hidden in the dark of the blindfold. Like, the coat hanger over by the door where Ryū had gotten into the habit of hanging his own coat. The ornate style dresser over in the corner with a multitude of keepsakes and photographs from various occasions. The shimmering, ebony scales of his tail as it writhed in the air behind him. And those coal-black voids staring back down at you.
"A warning would have been nice. Getting blasted in the face isn't so fun when it's the blinding sun in your eyes." You shot wryly, pulling your hands away from your face.
"You're fine." He gave a sharp huff through his nose. "It's a shame I need to see your eyes as I take you, or I'd have kept it on. Maybe the gag will still be useful enough." The hybrid shot you a smirk and you leveled an unamused glare at him.
He continued on, unwavering. "Now, where were we…"
In the blink of an eye, he was back on you. Lips wrapped securely around one of your erect nipples, teeth, and tongue grazing along your areola as he lapped and tugged, drawing out moan after moan.
You arched up into his warmth with an aroused keen. He gave a quiet rumble in response, tail flicking as the sound reverberated through your ribs. White, hot need shot straight down to your core. Your hips shot up to meet the air in desperation.
You needed something — anything. Even just his tail would suffice.
His other hand, formerly busy with stabilizing himself, now moved to show attention to your other, ignored nipple and trapped it in his pointed grasp. The first time you'd done this together, terror had burned through your veins at the sharp tips against such a sensitive area. But now, only a cool wave of bliss that had your breath hitching flowed at the touch.
He busied himself against your chest, lapping mercilessly before pulling back, allowing his spit to cool on the skin as he swiftly switched, latching onto your other peak. Ryū lapped lazily, free hand moving lower and lower with a purposeful, torturous slothfulness.
You tried to build up some words, a desperate plea for him to go faster — to touch exactly where you knew he would keep edging along. Seeming to sense this, his claws hooked into the waistband of your bottoms and tore them into clear shreds as he had done with your shirt.
The haziness of your mind swallowed the protest at more clothing being ripped. Focusing, instead, on the way his claws trailed along the soft skin of your hip, he pulled shivers from your body just at the prickling feeling the sharp tips left behind.
"It's fascinating how desperate you become after nothing but small touches." He popped off your slick nipple, puffy and red, and began to kiss a trail lower and lower. Lips fluttering right over your navel, fangs kissing the frantic, quick rise and fall of your belly, and down the soft hairs that built the little happy trail along your lower stomach — ending just above the swell of your mound.
You heard him take a deep inhale and couldn't help but groan in embarrassment. A hand flew down to push at his face, and he chuckled, a bind snapping around your wrist and dragging it up over your head. Feeling that silver gaze burning into you, your eyes flicked down to watch as his own stared, enamored, under heavy, ebony lashes. the pupils shrunk to thin slits of concentration as his tongue lapped experimentally over your pulsing clit.
At the desperate sound of your squeal, he rumbled with pride, scales shifting along his skin minutely, but it was easy to catch all the same. Annoyance swirled with your embarrassment. You shot him an irritated look. It was infuriating how that seemed to resonate with him, and you knew he loved to rile you up in a situation like this.
"I hate you." You snarled weakly, though it held no weight with the flush across your face. "When are you going to stop fucking with me and get on with it?"
He blinked as if hearing a language he didn't understand. Then, he scoffed.
"You have no idea how much I would simply love to do that. Anything to shut you up and quell this fire in my veins." Ryū snapped, coat rustling on his figure in agitation. "But, for your sake, I'm trying to properly prep you. Feel thankful. Or don't. But we both know you won't be complaining soon."
Rashōmon delivered a sharp smack on your outer thigh. You cried out at the feeling and he took the chance, two thin fingers pressing down on your tongue. The taste of sweat was heavy on your tongue.
"However, I can't promise to play nice if you keep testing my patience." He trailed into a heavy growl, pupils expanding and contracting as if his sanity was held by a thread. "Now. No more talking. Your complaints won't do any good, anyway."
Feeling satisfied with his explanation, he leaned forward, fingers pulling from your mouth as his arms hooked under your thighs to tug you closer. His lips surrounded your clit.
The slick muscle teased up around your hood, and Ryū gave a satisfied groan in response, the salty mix weighty and hazing in his mind. The lamplight nearby bounced off his dark strands, which shifted as he worked your sensitive nub with all he had. Dark lashes fluttered, dancing against the pale skin of his cheeks as his mouth moved against you with an audible slickness.
The skin between his brow-bones folded as he pushed forward, bending your hips up slightly as if trying to fuse into your very being. Behind him, his tail flashed across the bedspread, and he hummed low against you.
As his tongue worked, his hand moved from your thigh to rest just against your weeping cunt. You felt fingers trace the entrance, and you fought the urge to buck your hips, muscles tensing under your restraint. A hum rumbled against your skin.
"Mmm, so you do know how to behave…" He gave a sharp suck of your clit and was rewarded with a sharp cry of his name. "Good mate, you are." Curling one of his fingers, he brushed the tip of a knuckle against your hole and hummed as your hips tensed once more. Taking a moment — as his tongue curled delightfully around your bundle of nerves — he eventually granted a reprieve and began to gently push the knuckle into your fluttering pussy, before pulling right back out.
Ever-so-lightly dipping the knuckle in and shallowly fucking you. A low hiss escaped at the sudden intrusion, and he was quick to pull back from your clit. His gaze snapped to you, the other hand against your thigh, rubbing the flesh soothingly. His knuckle continued its shallow depth and slow pace.
"I told you so. You're dripping, but that won't help with tightness. Relax, won't you?. There's no harm here." He murmured, a blade of cloth moving to nudge your cheek — almost akin to a cat's nuzzle. His words were sharp, but the underlying concern was all too apparent. Dark eyes locked on as he repositioned his knuckle once more.
For all the shit he gave you, he was more attuned than most would give him credit for. Even as obvious as it was that he wanted nothing more than to shove his cocks inside you and mount you until time itself ceased to exist, he wouldn't allow pain to be shoved to the back burner in favor of desperate need.
Bit by bit, his knuckle began to sink deeper and deeper without much resistance, or a sharp intake of breath. Sensing your body gradually relaxing and giving way, he hummed and shot a quick, observational glance.
"Perfect." The bind that held your hand above your head suddenly disengaged, and he was lowering back down.
In an instant, he was back on you — lips securing around your erect clit and continuing as if no time had passed at all. Flicking. Lapping. Sucking. His tongue was relentless as it worked across the surface and dragged a string of moans and curses from your lips.
Stoke after stroke, like he was physically working to stoke the embers that were beginning to grow in the pit of your stomach. The scaled tail twitched sharply in quiet satisfaction as he kept his eyes trained up on your face. Every cry and contortion of your expression let him adjust accordingly. A man that was nothing if not perceptive.
Your hands gripped up at the pillow under your head, and you flopped back into the plushness, eyes focusing tiredly on the headboard a just a few inches away.
An intricate, carved piece of cedar that had been stained an elegant shade of coal black Ryū had picked up at an antique shop. Nearly the same shade of his raven-colored locks that caught the light with a hint of purple across its surface as he buried himself between your thighs. His horns shimmered a brilliant gold, and their healthy luster was clear to see as they shifted with his movements. Once dull from malnutrition, it was always so rewarding to see them flourishing with new life — to see him flourishing with new life.
It lasted a short while longer, tongue caressing your clit like a lover's hold, before he pulled away with a lewd pop. A string of saliva glittered in the lamplight along his tongue, arousal coating his chin in an astonishing layer that had your gut flaring in embarrassment. Settling back on his heels, he admired the mess between your legs and the subsequent trembling of your limbs. You just turned your head to avoid the blatant observance.
If he was amused with the effect he had, Ryū didn't show it this time. Dark irises were eaten away by slowly expanding pupils, continuing to search the scene before using a singular claw to draw your gaze back to his. He sat there a moment before settling back, reaching up and beginning to unfasten the buttons of his coat. He worked them loose with a practiced deftness. Your breath held.
Obviously it wasn't a new thing for him lately to actually remove the article of clothing, but the fact that he felt comfortable enough with you — to strip off his main form of defense — always sent a flurry of butterflies hurtling around your stomach. Had you been a bit more of sound mind, you'd have cupped his face and kissed him like it was the last day alive — pouring every sense of pride and appreciation for his trust into his very being.
Seemingly sensing this by the soft look on your face, his pale ears gained a light dusting of pink and a bind of white shot out over your mouth. Now, he was left in nothing but the white, frilled shirt he always wore under his coat and a pair of boxers that held the slightest bit of a stain at the front — you were almost honored.
"Don't." He hissed, barely even a threat as he moved to hover back over your body. "Quit looking at me like that. Like I'm so deserving. It's entirely ignorant."
Your face softened, and the sharp whip of his tail resounded through the air, watching as he leaned down. His nose brushed against the spot just under your ear, dragging slowly over your racing pulse, down your neck and chest. It ghosted across your navel and belly, and right back between your legs. Quick hands caught your thighs and hauled them up. As he tugged them high enough to present your quivering pussy to his gaze in the light, shame lanced through your mind at the stare, but that only incited him to tighten his grip.
He didn't say anything as his eyes caught yours, seemingly scanning the thoughts behind that gaze. Something glimmered in the deep pools. Something quiet, but clear enough to know he was thinking hard. Turning to the side, his nose pressed to the skin of your inner thigh, nuzzling it before delivering an assuring nip. Hands soothed your sides and the considerate assurance melted away any shame like snow on a warm, summer's day.
Turning his head back, his mouth latched securely around your awaiting hole, tongue flickering experimentally against it in a way that had him shuddering slightly at the taste. He traced the entrance, eyes lidded and once again trained on your face as he tracked your expressions. The tip circled endlessly, spelling characters and numbers against you in a way that had your back arching up in the air like a pleased cat.
A few more teasing flicks and he was pressing the muscle against you, inching the muscle inside tentatively and continuing deeper when he felt the walls clenching down around it like an invitation.
Pure bliss was all you could feel as he plundered his way inside, the pronged end tickling against your pulsing, squishy walls, and sending a mixed wave of pleasure. Warmth coated your walls with each pass and you gave a sharp breath. The overwhelming urge to tug him deeper by the horns grew and grew; To grab and tug until one couldn't tell where he began and you ended or night and day were one.
His hands moved, one sliding down to your inner thigh while the other trailed up along your hip, dragging steadily until the pad of his thumb pressed against your pulsing clit. Slowly, ever so slowly, he circled the bundle, tongue working in tandem to the unhurried pace. Still, his eyes were locked on you, and a bind nudged under your chin to keep your gaze locked with him. When it finally met his, he gave a rewarding curl of his tongue against that spongy spot, eliciting a bright array of lights behind your eyes.
You clenched down with a whine, arching up against him and fighting against the eye contact he forced you to hold. There was no escape from it — there never was. It was instinct for him to keep your gazes locked so long as moments like these occurred. Like a sadistic beast, Ryū wanted you to watch as he brought you hopelessly over that edge despite all embarrassment.
Giving another curl of his tongue, you watched from the corner of your eye as another white bind slithered from the folds of his shirt. It snaked across the bedspread, sliding silently until it disappeared into the shadow of your lifted hips. Ryū glanced down with an all-too-cunning expression and shifted his tongue against the roof of your cunt — seemingly making room for…something? A gasp leapt out at the sudden pressure squeezing in just below his tongue, eyes shooting wide in a moment of profound realization.
Oh.
Oh.
It was soft. Cool. Firm yet malleable enough to compress under the squishing of your walls. It molded beautifully within the silk ridges of your sex, drawing over every nerve and bump in a way that had your hips rolling to follow. With a gentle curl, pleasure bloomed through your core, building on that deep fire in your gut that Ryū would stop at nothing to let burn you alive.
Slowly, it began to twist in time with the combined rhythm of his tongue and his thumb steadily circling your puffy clit, caressing your walls in a mix of soothing and teasing. He danced purposefully around that sweet spot, studying your reaction.
A slick squelching filled the warmth of the room, and you fought to bury your face.
Instead, you shot him a look. Glaring over your flushed cheeks in a way he undoubtedly understood. Right now was not the time for him to be playing this game — though he would inadvertently argue otherwise. It seemed to work, as a warm, firm curl of his tongue and cloth depressed on that spongy spot sent stars across your vision. White, hot fire burned across your body. The heat within the room only seemed to grow warmer.
You could faintly register his scent curling up into your nose. Smoky, deep, with the lightest hint of something herbal or medicinal. It was calming, yet overpowering in your hazy mind. It choked your senses and, combined with the onslaught of his tongue, makeshift toy, and fingers, made it hard to think clearly.
It was uniquely home.
Uniquely him.
You wanted to wrap yourself up in it, and the feeling of reality began to drift away from you. Colors blurred into one another in your vision. It was hard to keep track of what was real anymore, and a mumble tumbled past your lips numbly.
Desperate for some grounding purchase, your hands shot out, just barely scraping the surface of his gold, coral-branched horns that climbed from between his raven-black locks. In response, he hissed lowly against the slick. His eyes went sharp for just a quick moment, but it was enough to leave you gasping and yanking your hands back like it was the surface of a hot stove. All sense of fantasy was burned in the abruptness of the moment.
"Shit, Ryū—" Hands waving, they eventually came to clench together over your chest. "Sorry! Sorry, I didn't think about where I was grabbing."
He was never one for having his horns touched. One classification from just pure bone, they were packed with all senses of nerves and highly sensitive. It was hard to even look at them without Ryū feeling threatened in the end.
While frantic thoughts raced in your head, the hybrid snared low against where his tongue was buried in your pussy, eyes still sharp as he pressed down on your clit with his thumb — sending you arching uncontrollably with a sharp gasp.
His hands were quick, thumb pulling away as he grabbed onto the meat of your thighs and hiked them up over his broad shoulders, tilting his head forward. As his nose pressed into the space his thumb had formerly taken, two binds shot out to grab your hands and wrap them against his horns, binding them there. Realizing there was no way out, your fingers hesitantly curled around the solid appendages. All the while, he looked down at you with a scathing glare, as if the act of retreating had been an offense of the highest order.
"I never told you to pull away. Grab if you must." Ryū's words vibrated against your folds as his tongue pressed deeper, flicking slightly against that innermost part of you. Protests fizzled on the end of your tongue and you bucked up against him. A rumble of satisfaction met your undulations as the cloth blade settled back into it's pace. It wriggled and thrusted at a relentless beat. Squirming against him, your breath grew short as he flicked relentlessly, sharp nose rubbing against your poor, pulsating clit. The heat from earlier ignited once again, and with each relentless press of nudge, you could feel yourself drawing closer.
Two more tendrils crawled their way along your sides, weaving up and up until they curled themselves around your stiff nipples and tugged. You couldn't help the hiccuped sound of pleasure that bubbled in your throat, eyes squeezing shut. There was nothing to focus on than the feeling of him. The feeling as he drew you to that edge, attention focused entirely on you. It was hard to notice the bind that slipped into his boxers as he continued.
His lashes fluttered, gaze hazing and faltering slightly as he drowned himself in the sensation of you.
Closer. He curled his tongue, tendril drilling in incessantly.
Closer. He pressed his nose down further, dark eyes locked on you.
Closer. The tendrils around your nipples pulled hard.
Your nails dug into the surface of his horns, scratching away flecks of keratin that coated the surface and producing a low choking sound from Ryū. Whatever wasn't caught under your fingernail fell to the bedspread in flakes, gold flittering like dust in the lamplight. A nearly eye-catching sight if you weren't so busy trying to hold to the last shred of sanity in your poor, stimulated brain.
More tendrils joined the one in your cunt, combining with the first in a spiral shape and beginning to drag back and forth against your walls. They were steady, and the unique texture of his white shirt wrapped in his ability brought forth surges of pleasure. His tongue, undeterred, kept curling against that sweet spot and flicking against the surface of your cervix, greedily swallowing up the slick that your wept in droves.
He met your fervor with a low moan, sparse brows furrowing as hips jerked against the air. His movements were sloppy, lapping and eating you out like the taste was oxygen to his lungs. Pressing deeper, his nose pushed firmly against your clit and dragged a ragged cry from your throat. All he could sense was you. All he could smell was you.
He almost joined in as your orgasm built closer and closer. The cloth stuffed in his boxers tugged at him, wrapping, twisting, and jerking him off in shaky motions. The feeling of himself twitching and your warm walls wrapped like a vice around his other tendrils had his abdominals tensing with the inevitable release.
But before either of you could hit it, he was pulling away, panting lightly. His pale skin was dusted with a gentle pink, eyes barely focused. All the tendrils slunk back into his coat, withdrawing from your needy sex in a way that nearly had a sob of frustration ripping from your throat. It took him a moment to gather himself, but he was quick to refocus on you.
"R-Ryū! You can't just—" You gasped for breath, shuddering at the early fall from cloud nine. "You can't just stop there!"
He simply watched, amused. The front of his boxers twitched, a large wet spot clear to see in the dark fabric. It had been too close of a call.
"You're not in charge here. I'll do whatever I deem is necessary, and you'll learn to enjoy it." The male hummed, drawing out a tendril to ghost against your clit in a way that had your body seizing up before it pulled away. You chased it with your hips.
"Please, I need it! I need you—" You sobbed, reaching for him to tug him back. He dodged with ease, planting you back on the mattress with another white blade. Fighting against it, the wrap only pressed tighter, another joining to keep you down. There was no escape here.
"Oh no." The draconic hybrid sneered. "I don't want your pleas; For this, I want your apologies."
Indignation flared in your veins, utterly appalled at the request. "What?" You scoffed, brows furrowing as you stopped squirming. Seriously, what was his problem? "For what? I have nothing to apologize for! I haven't done a single thing wrong."
"For letting that mangy detective rub his scent on you." Ryū's eyes were dark against the paleness of his face, burning into yours without an ounce of jovial amusement. The bind feathered over your clit once more, and you fought to follow it. It stayed just out of reach, providing just enough stimulation to keep the fire right on the edge — right where he needed you. "For letting him cover my rightful scent and letting everyone else believe that you were his."
Your head shook; This was utterly stupid.
"I didn't let him!" You pleaded, trying to reason with him. The man simply tilted his head, white tipped bands dancing against his, mole-splattered pale face.
"I'll give you three chances. I'm feeling merciful enough."
"Ryū! This is stupid! Please—I need you! You can't just deny me right now." You cursed him with every name under the sun, frustration welling up in your chest that he was choosing to do this now. Rashōmon continued to tease at your swelled bundle of nerves and coaxing out sobs of desperation. "This is stupid, and you know it!"
"One." He rumbled, clearly not bluffing.
Panic raced through you. "W-Why do I have to pay for this?!" You squawked, hand reaching out to him, which he dodged once again. "I-I didn't let him rub on me, honest. I work with him, Ryunosuke — what else am I supposed to do? Avoid him? That's like asking me to follow a recipe without the ingredients. It's impossible!"
"Two."
You didn't want him to give him the satisfaction; You knew there was nothing to apologize for. But, you also knew that going to bed without that orgasm would leave you tossing and turning. Your gaze flicked away, face scrunching, before hesitantly shifting back to meet his.
Taking a deep breath, you pleaded under your breath, "R-Ryū, please…I-I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry I let his scent get on me. I'm sorry I brought it home. I-I promise I didn't mean to. Please—I-I'm so sorry."
Crickets.
One moment. Another. Another.
"Mm…sufficing." The corner of his lip curled with amusement, tail twitching behind him as the torturous cloth tendril curled away. "It's quite amusing just how far you'll go when you need something, though. I never actually needed an apology."
Confusion hit you.
"Wha…"
"I was going to fuck you either way. Just wondered how desperate you would be." His hands were back on your hips. You protested, reaching to smack him — which he swatted away as easily. "I'll deal with the idiot later for getting too close to begin with. I know he knows better than to mess with what's mine. Maybe I'll rip the other leg off this time."
"You prick!" You snapped after a moment. "When we're done, I swear—."
"You'll be too blissed out of your pathetic, little mind to do anything. Though, I'd quite love to see you even try. Now, be quiet." He let out a deep growl, mood shifting like the flip of a coin as his hands were both back on your hips. With a sharp movement, he was swiftly rolling you onto your belly and pinning you face down into the mattress.
A sound of protest died on your tongue as he crowded your body into the sheets. Behind you, he shuffled off his boxers. The front was soaked with a hefty spot of pre-cum.
His knees bracketed your own, and he was suddenly bearing down on your back, tendrils wrapping around your ankles to pull you spread-eagle and leave your sensitive, drooling cunt on display.
One hand coming down between your legs to run along your slicked hole, gathering the lingering arousal along his finger and smearing it against the pad of his thumb. You gave a soft keen as electric arousal shot back through you, face burying down into the pillow to cover most of it. The bed creaked lightly at his shifting weight. His warmth pressed down against your back as he breathed against your sweat-caked neck.
There was a gentle roll of his hips, and now there was the feeling of him guiding one of the flared tips of his cocks against you. Pre-cum mixed with the arousal pouring from your cunt, and you sighed as he eased himself just inside.
You always forgot just how big he was like this. A brutal stretch that left you limping the next morning without fail, though you supposed it was a fair enough trade off.
Feeling you tense for just a moment, he shifted his hips away—nearly drawing a groan of displeasure at the loss. A bind curled loosely around your neck, settling heavy against your pulse.
"Relax for me." Ryū murmured low, pressing his cheek down against yours as he gave another gentle dip of the tip. "I already told you it'll make this easier. I won't allow you to come to harm here. Just give me deep breaths."
Half annoyed, you sighed wearily and tilted your head just enough to draw deep breaths into your lungs. Looking up, your eyes met his. As stony as always, they now held a deep shimmer of concern — of a care he'd never admit to feeling. The annoyance drained from your body as you slowly allowed yourself to relax. The bind around your neck clenched once, just enough to add pressure, but not enough to cut any air, and he lifted himself back up on his hands.
"And don't you dare look away."
Steadily, he began to inch himself inside. Pressing in further and further with each time he drew himself back to allow you to relax — steadily fucking in further while his hands moved to find purchase on your hips. He'd push in. Slow to a stop when he met resistance. Then pull right back out to the tip.
His other cock, smaller, but no less mighty, rubbed up against your clit deliciously. The soaked, pre-cum coated head provided a wonderful friction that had your lashes fluttering with each roll of his hips.
It was quiet for the first few minutes, save for your noises and his own shuddering breaths. Dark eyes never left you, and, somehow, it didn't feel as embarrassing holding his gaze in such an intimate moment. Maybe it was because he wasn't just looking to look, but to observe. The binding on your neck kept its light but secure hold, pulsing in time with your steady heart.
After a few moments of the slow routine, he finally sunk in completely, filling you with a delicious girth. You were quick to bury your face in the pillows to muffle any noises.
The stretch was glorious as always — a pleasurable burn, flared edges pressing against your walls as it conformed around every ridge, bump, and vein in a way that had you breathless. Just outside of it, the ridges at the base of his smaller dick settled against your pulsing clit. There was a delicious curve to the cock inside you that allowed him easy access to your g-spot, and he was prepared to abuse that.
He stilled when he bottomed out, breath coming in ragged rhythm as he leaned over you. Ryū's hands on your hips held his weight as his tail swiped across the sheets behind him. Slowly leaning down, he delivered a feathered nip at your ear.
"Forgive me. This will be quick. Quicker than I would care for." He hissed, seemingly ashamed as he nudged weakly against your cheek and neck. His body trembled with thinly-veiled restraint. A bind came down and tied around your wrists, dragging them up and behind his neck in a way that had your body bending up from the bed in a gentle arc. Your front was exposed to the air, and he curled a hand around to press against your belly. Claws trailed over the softness there. "But it will be no less pleasurable, that I promise you. This is just what I must do to rid you of that truly undeserving scent."
Akutagawa sighed, nose curling against your neck just under the bind against your pulse. He planted a soft nip, shifting your arms around his neck with Rashōmon before he was pulling back. The rough inner cock scraped along your walls on the way out and against you.
"Forgive me."
He slammed right back to the hilt without warning. The flared head of his outer cock ground against your clit just as the tip of the sunken one reached deep into you, spearing its way in and creating a wonderful pressure from deep within. You gave a sharp cry, head falling back against his shoulder. The hand on your belly came up to rest on your neck, thumb soothing along the side of your throat.
"There we are…" Ryū hissed, drawing out and slamming back in with a sigh. "Doing good. Just relax for me. You can handle it; I know you can."
He allowed you to sink into the feeling for a few thrusts — allowing that feeling to build up once more, thankfully accelerated by build up from moments ago. You clenched down around him, hips rocking to meet the feeling against your clit, and he shifted to meet your movements with a crack of his tail against the bed.
Then, he was pounding mercilessly into you. Your body rocked against the air, the arch of your spine sharpening before he was soothing along your back with a clawed hand. Your hands, still bound behind his head, grabbed helplessly at the strands of hair that tickled against your fingers.
Gripping at the tufts, you tugged with each sharp thrust. Ryū's cocks felt like bliss, twitching against you as he peppered bites and kisses along your exposed neck, the white bind seemingly falling away to allow access to his mark.
He pistoned into you like it was the last time he'd ever have the chance to.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
He was relentless. Sharp.
Flares dragging against your walls, before he was sinking right back in — reaching deeper with each thrust and arch of your body. The feeling twisted euphorically in your guts.
Ryū seemed to think the same, as the other hand — which had still been resting on your hip — came to the front to rest on your lower belly. He applied a bit of pressure against his thrust, and you both let out a simultaneous, high-pitched noise of pleasure.
While you worked to recover, he only seemed to work harder. Your sweat mixed with the growing strength of his scent had your mind burying itself in the heady haze. Energy bolstered by the feeling of the bulge from deep inside you, he continued to slam without pause. Sharp hips drove against your ass, leaving a heavy stinging sensation that had cried ripping out of your throat.
His nips turned to full bites, and you tugged harder at his hair, almost sure that you were going to pull it from the scalp. As he thrusted, he made sure to angle his hips to allow for constant stimulation against your pulsing nub. Stars exploded in your vision, and you gripped desperately at him.
"I-It's too much!" You sobbed, head pressed back against his shoulder. The fire blazed like lava in your gut, fueled by the constant stimulation between your legs. "Ryū, I-I can't—"
"You can. Don't be a quitter, now." He gasped, seemingly close himself. "You can take it — and you will take it. Just a little bit longer."
'A little bit longer' felt too short as the incoming wave of an overload grew increasingly stronger.
It was hot and heavy — the room swirled in the corner of your glazed-over eyes as he reached around to tug you against the front of his shirt. Shadows and furniture mixed as you were mercilessly held down into the mattress. Just barely you could register the dragging sensation pooling low in your guts, catching something just perfectly that it had your fingers clenching and eyes rolling slightly.
Quiet, measly whimpers drifted into your ear, and you had not even half a mind to try and find what was making the noise.
Except there wasn't really any way to find the culprit. Those were your whimpers.
Dragging your leaden gaze up, you caught sight of the dark, onyx eyes that were all-too-focused on you. You nearly shied away from it except for his gaze being so burning that it was impossible to glance away.
"Not a thought in that pathetic head of yours, is there?" A sharp meld of a croon and a scoff, he was leaning over, hips slowing down as pinpricks bit your sides. A bit of the haze melted away, and the pain bled through just enough to have you gasping like an air-deprived scuba diver. Nails — long, sharp, and black as the scales across his pale skin — sunk slightly into your flesh.
A cry was ripped from your throat. Your back gave one last sharp arch before you were settling limp. Your nails scratched his scalp as you grasped for grounding.
It was a desperate noise — bright, and loud in a way that seemed to echo through the room. You could barely think past the pleasure singing in your veins as he brought that edge closer and closer, your vision blurring as your eyes unfocused and rolled back the slightest bit. It wasn't long before you spilled right over the edge.
Ryū's hands were quick to steady you as you went limp with pleasure, guiding your form back down onto your belly as his binding unwound from around your wrists. He laid your hands on either side of your head, covering them with his own and intertwining your fingers. And, without missing a beat, he kept going.
As your walls clamped down around him, he seemed to thrust harder just to get deeper past the vice grip, his cocks twitching simultaneously.
One of his hands picked up yours, guiding it down and pushing it against the underside of his smaller, pulsating cock. He pressed the tip of it to grind relentlessly against your clit, pulling a whimper of overstimulation from your throat as you squirmed under him. He didn't move it, though, only holding it down tighter and letting out a groan of pleasure, making you ride through the aftershocks as he speared relentlessly into the enveloping warmth for several heavy moments.
Eventually, he gave a sharp hiss from above, hips jerking harshly against your ass in an increasing, staggering staccato as he drove himself toward his own edge. His cocks twitched simultaneously, and you squirmed under him, nails digging into the bedspread with your other hand. You could hear his tail whipping back behind him, growls simmering in his throat as he drove and drove. He darted down, and sunk his teeth deep in the junction between your neck and shoulder. You delivered a sharp cry as he established the mating mark deep within your skin.
Finally, he was locking inside of you and spilling thick, warm ropes of cum deep inside. Simultaneously, the outer flare was twitching and shooting seed against the softness of your belly and sensitive, puffed-up clit. The base of his inner cock swelled like a balloon until he was locked securely into your fluttering cunt, coating your soft walls with a sticky whiteness. His hips gave weak jerks, twitching in an effort to push his spend deeper inside in a way that would calm the overbearing instincts right now.
When he finally stilled, he collapsed on top of you, and you both lay there, panting heavily and coming down from your collective highs as he worked to find his footing. He lapped gently at the oozing marks on your neck, rumbling as he soothed the skin with flicks of his sharp tongue. You had no doubt it would be a gnarly sight to behold in the morning.
His unburied cock still ground against your highly sensitive bundle of nerves, sending you squirming and whining under him before he hissed and pressed, using his weight to cease any further wiggling. Binds shot out to anchor you down, preventing any potential leakage.
"Quit that, it's almost over." Slender fingers gripped your hips, tugging them flush against his own. "As I've said, you can take it."
You hated when it came to this. Okay, not actually hated, but it was close enough of a feeling. As you lay there, comfortable under the weight, there eventually came a pressure against your lower lips, pushing insistently against your stuffed hole.
It was relentless and continued to press and press until finally it pushed past your cum-slick labia. It was big. Bigger than the widest point of Ryū's thicker cock, and it burned slightly as it slid through your sensitive walls. It carried a unique weight that had you squirming in a small sense of discomfort before the binds on tightened. When it reached the deepest part of you and nudged against your cervix, it slid right through with a soothing, pleasant feeling.
No matter how many times you went through this, it was always a shock that it felt nice. A side effect of Ryū's cum — numbing anything it touched. Blowjobs were always a delight when one essentially lost their gag reflex, that's for sure.
As its weight settled within you, the dragon above rumbled lowly.
"You always take them so well. It's amusing how much you whine about not liking it." He smirked, catching your side-long gaze, fangs glinting in the light. His pale skin was dusted with a light layer of pink.
"Yeah, well—" Your breath hitched at another pressure, fingers clenching just slightly as it rolled to join the first in the depths of your womb. You cleared your throat after a moment. "Well, why would I admit that? You get too smug, and I don't need you growing an ego now, of all times."
He scoffed, but was clearly undeterred.
"Excuses are all you're good at making." Ryū allowed the binds to finally fall from your body when he no longer deemed you a flight risk. "I can feel it anyway, with the way you tighten with each one. You can fool the world, but there's no fooling me."
Weight after weight, push after push, rounded objects began to press against your innermost walls, stretching the skin and muscle to its max before the last intrusion finally slid home, resting among its weighty brethren. Upon realization that the pushing was over, your body finally rested fully into the mattress. The round, gravid pressures left your body feeling both weightless and like the biggest ton of bricks one could ever possibly weigh.
You wanted to wring his scrawny neck — really, you did. Maybe it was your own fault for not keeping up with this stupid cycle. To be fair, it had never been this bad before. But now, as you lay there, filled —hopelessly — to the brim with his clutch, there were some serious regrets. He'd probably hold this over your head for a long while, all smug, and teasing. It was a good thing that they weren't fertile.
"Seriously?" You twisted your torso around as best you could with your new, limited flexibility. Ryū purred lowly, stone gaze meeting yours without a hint of remorse. His tail gave a pleased flick behind him, clearly unapologetic.
"It's your own fault for rubbing up against that utterly incompetent feline." Fangs nipped at your shoulder, gold horns glinting in the lamplight. White-tipped bangs tickled against the back of your neck. "You came home bathed in that vile odor, and I refuse to have you rub it along the house where I have to live in it. It is a mockery, and I won't have it."
He gave a sniff at your neck and let out a pleased hum, his hand pressing to your distended belly. Claws grazed the stretched surface, and you couldn't help pressing into the soothing feeling.
"He won't be able to cover this one up." He purred, pupils shrinking to slits. "And I'd love to see him try." Then he growled after a moment.
"That said, don't let him get so close again. You wouldn't want a repeat of this, would you? Since you supposedly hate it."
You shot him a look.
"I don't hate it, but you can't simply tell me who I can and can't speak with or hang around. It's asinine. And controlling, quite frankly." You swatted back at him, and he caught your wrist with ease, planting a soft, warning bite on your pulse. "I'm not going to listen to you."
He caught your gaze, head tilting to stare down out of the corner of one sharp eye. "You wish to see what happens if you do? As long as you carry my clutch, you'll listen to what I say."
You stared him down for a tense moment, meeting the clear, burning gaze with your own raging agitation. Another annoying side effect of the entire cycle — the raging territorial beast that wouldn't allow anything other than what his instincts deemed 'safe.' The slits of his eyes sharpened, body still as a statue.
"Bite me." You finally conceded with a sigh.
"Don't tempt me." Pale hands gathered under your belly, tugging you close against his own form as he rubbed at the taut skin. Pride rumbled through his veins at your agreement. You were listening, and that's all that mattered. Gently — wordlessly — he soothed the sore stretch and rolled you both on your sides. His tail came up, long, and reflecting the lamplight across the dark scales like stars in the night sky, to curl up against you. You hummed, wrapping your arms around it as exhaustion sunk in deep.
"I'm still mad at you, by the way." You grumbled, scrunching your nose as the spines of his tail swatted the tip of it gently. He pressed sharp claws against your belly, dragging through the cum drying there with nary a care. He lapped gently at the sweat-caked skin of your neck and shoulders. A way to clean, since moving wasn't exactly an option in this state. You'd badger him for a bath, later.
"Be mad. I couldn't care less."
Ryū curled around you, keeping your body close against him with his back to the wall so he could see the door just over your shoulder, an instinct bound to surface as the rut cycle kicked off fully over the week. One of many that could encase the hellishly long week that was ahead. You were sure he'd push to start nesting or whatever, blaming instinct over the fact he wanted his mate safe. Or, just pretend that he doesn't care, but you both knew full well how short that mask would fall.
Tucked securely in his grasp, eventually your eyes begin to slowly fall shut, a sigh escaping as you ventured to drift off to sleep. He wouldn't sleep for a long while, content to simply watch over, as he always did.
Just a dragon watching his most precious treasure, and the pearl you held close to your heart.
(Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! ^^ Please do not repost, copy, alter my words, or feed it into any sort of AI platform. Thank you so much for reading!)
CW: Angst/No comfort, Death, might be slightly OOC
WC: 1.4k
A/n: I'm getting back in the habit of writing for Ryuu and I didn't want to post another smut fic just yet, so I made angst instead! I don't tend to write angst, so I'm hoping this comes out pretty decent for my writing it.
It's warm today.
The sunlight bleeds through the window, dust dancing in the bright beams as you sit across the table from where Ryuunosuke sips his tea. He's already dressed; His black coat fills out nicely over his form, broad shoulders casting tall shadows in the golden luminance.
You push over a plate of toast.
"Have one." Another gentle shove of the porcelain left it gliding over to his hand. "Would hate for you to leave home on an empty stomach."
He observes you with that stone grey gaze, softened—just slightly—from the air of domesticity.
"You're going to be late." His hand reaches out. Long, pale fingers contrast against the bronzed surface of the wheat, making him seem almost paler in comparison. They clasp around one of the flaky edges and a few drier pieces drift down to the other pieces underneath. "I don't want to listen to your incessant whining when they ask you to work later."
Rolling your eyes, you watched as he brought the piece to his mouth and took a hesitant whiff before biting into it. You aren't sure why he bothers with it. It wasn't as if you were going to poison him—A quirk of his that you just would never figure out, you supposed.
"My complaints," you corrected, "are valid when they make me stay way longer than is necessary for being late to begin with." You huffed as you leaned back in your chair, arms crossed across your chest. "It's shitty and just not fair, and I have every right to talk about it in whatever tone I feel it fit."
There was the sensation of a pinch on your upper thigh, and your leg jolted up in response, causing you to let out a hiss of pain when the underside of the table and your knee made solid contact. Ducking under, you narrowly caught sight of the black material of Rashomon's reach melting into Ryuu's coat—the edge of the fabric rustled in a pleased movement.
"What was that for?" You cradled your poor knee, rubbing the aching spot in an attempt to soothe. "That hurt..Ow.."
One of his sparse brows quirked up and he gave a taunting smirk around another sharp crunch of toast.
"Your kneecap, or your pride?" He swallowed the piece down before standing up. "Either way, dramatics will get you no where but trouble. Hurry up."
You grumbled lowly, rising from your own chair and snagging your bag off the nearby chair. Tossing it over your shoulder, you moved with him over to the front door to slip your shoes on.
As he toed his boots on, his collar came loose a bit and you waited for him to straighten up before reaching to adjust it. Your thumb ghosted the skin of his neck and, just barely, you heard the gentle hitch of his breath. Usually you'd tease him to no end, and maybe you should for the ego-shot he just gave you.
Instead, you leaned in and placed a feather-light kiss on the mole under his bottom lip—his breathing faltered more audibly this time.
"I'll get you back tonight." You whispered conspiratorially, like it was some grand secret between you both. "So just you wait."
It took a few moments for his face to soften, and the tips of his ears cooled from their red warmth. Rashomon bit the fold of your collar like a cat's scruff and hauled you a few inches away before dropping you. Carefully, you might note.
"So stupid," he grumbled, smoothing his coat, "That's only if you make it home before I go to sleep. Which will only become less and less likely the longer you stand here dawdling."
A black tendril gripped the handle, tugging the door open as he ushered you outside, trailing closely. You'd part ways here until the night. It was constantly a bittersweet thing, but he had always returned to the quiet sanctuary you both built together. It was something you could undoubtedly count on with him. Not once had he ever broken that promise to you.
Turning, you locked the door behind you both and gave him one last glance over before heading off for work. Yet, when you turned to leave, he pulled you back. It was a rare kind of kiss from the usually aloof man. Very sparingly did he initiate this sort of moment—outside the walls of your sanctum, no less—so it was quite the shock. Had he hit his head?
Just as you began to lean into it, he was pulling away, the warmth of his mouth leaving a lingering heat that cooled in the breeze. You shivered.
"Don't do anything reckless." He murmured.
You shot him a pointed look.
"I should be telling you that." The bag on your shoulder slipped and you reached to adjust it. "Which means you better make it home."
His gaze met yours with a profound depth, onyx eyes locking to yours for just a moment before shying away. He was already turning away when he answered with a forced monotone, his coat fluttering behind him in the early morning light.
"I promise."
Liar.
The sky overhead was a swirling collage of somber solitude, a reflection of your inner turmoil as your feet sunk into the soft ground. Dark, grey storminess met your eye as tear drops landed against your skin, showering you in a soon-to-come typhoon of dreary air.
Your gaze cut down.
The headstone stared back at you—unmoving. The yet-to-be carved stone only served to grip your heart and squeeze until all that could be felt was an agonizing pain. A nameless shadow for now until it was finally cemented.
Until it was reality.
You wanted nothing more than to dig your fingers into the steadily-growing sodden soil, and haul him out by his arms—to yell and shake him until his eyes fluttered open to the world. He couldn't be resting at a time like this.
His team needed him.
His sister needed him.
…You needed him.
"Selfish bastard." Your lip trembled, hand tightening around the bouquet Gin had given to you—an arrangement of Trumpet Narcissus she had asked you to lay for her. You hadn't probed her on the strange choice. She had left as soon as the procession was over.
You couldn't fault her. Not really.
Hell, you had wanted to do the same.
"You better wake up, you hear me? Always getting onto me for being late, yet you're just lying there. Don't you know how stupidly hypocritical that is?" You spat, though you found it hard to even tell what you were directing your anger at anymore. "I'll make you toast…the corner store has this delicious fig jam I picked up just for you. I'm sure you'll love it. The nice cashier at the counter said it was some of the best. Fresh, too."
You waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Despite how long you stood there, listening, there was no answer. No scoffing. No exasperated eye roll. No snide remark wrapped in a proverbial blanket of care. Eventually, it was clear to you that there would be none.
Truly, Ryuunosuke Akutagawa would take his words to the grave. Beneath the layers of soft ground, locked in a small box with your shattered heart, he would have nothing else to say. Not now, not ever.
And you wanted to hate him for it.
The trek home was long. Seemingly deciding that it was too much pain to hold, the clouds poured their sorrows onto the streets below and, subsequently, you. You didn't care. The rain felt alive—hot coals against your skin in comparison to the cold that lingered deep in your being.
You couldn't feel bothered to change when you walked inside. Without much effort, you shrugged your coat to the floor and toes your shoes off as you clambered into your bed. Almost instantly, his scent greets you like a cruel twist of fate's jagged knife. It's a rich mix of tea leaves, clean linen, and the slightest hint of dust. He had gotten more comfortable with showers when you joined him under the water.
You'd take a shower with him when he came home. He'd crawl into bed and tug you up flush to his body, burying his nose in the damp strands of your hair.
He'll be there to kiss you a soft 'goodnight'. He had to be.
He had promised to return.
It's cold tonight.
(Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! ^^ Please do not repost, copy, alter my words, or feed it into any sort of AI platform. Thank you so much for reading!)
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My Mer-May contribution that I’ve been sitting on for a while, but I’m desperate to persevere enough to get this posted out here.
I’m calling it, “The Pearl’s Beauty.”
Except neither of them is looking at the same pearl here, if you look closely enough (though I imagine Rook feels purely surrounded by beauty in this piece, knowing him).
A/N: Draft from Christmas that I’m clearing out here. It’s short, but I hope my Ryuu enjoyers like it as much! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
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“What is this?”
The red and white paper wrapped object in his hands was less than intriguing—a threat, really. The bright red bow curled atop it with precision felt like nothing more than a quiet mockery, What harm would it bring him should he let his guard down?
You smiled, glancing down at it as if that was all the explanation he needed. He wasn’t daft, and he wished you’d stop looking at him like that.
“It’s a gift, Ryuu.” You gave the box in his hands another quick glance. “Y’know, for Christmas? It’s just a little thing I got for you. I hope you’ll like it.”
A gift? Gifts were overrated; gifts were never a good thing as long as he’d been running across this earth— some far off memory in his mind rings. Something echoes a faded, childish awe from a time lost long ago.
‘Wow, Big Bro! You got so lucky with your ability—it’s such a cool gift!’
He’s sure he’s made a face by then, because you shift your eyes and reach out to take it back—hands flexed and worrying your lip as if you’d just been scolded. “Sorry. If you don’t—“ You barely had time to think before a sliver of black shot out and blocked your reach.
Ryuu looked just as shocked as you did before he quickly schooled his expression, clearing his throat with a traitorous flush on his face. His usually sharp, onyx eyes seem fuzzed with emotion as he glances away.
“No.” He gathered himself quickly, steeling his expression as he allowed his binding fabric to catch hold of it. “It’s fine.”
He wouldn’t open it now—he couldn’t.
But the sight of that patchwork handkerchief in his hand the next day was enough to make your heart flutter.
afab s/o who experiences extreme drops in their energy levels during their period headcanons for jade leech, leona kingscholar, and rook hunt
or; how three very different students manage to adapt to your sudden drop in energy during your period
featuring jade leech, leona kingscholar, rook hunt, and an afab reader
requested by anonymous
see my pinned post or my night raven college masterlist
j a d e l e e c h
jade leech approaches your menstrual cycle and the changes you go through as a result of it with the same mildly offputting curiosity with which he approaches most new things he learns about on land. that’s to say that he will be treating you like an experiment — but also helping you out as best as he can, because while he can be annoying he’s not entirely inconsiderate and doesn’t want to actually upset you
he noted the sudden distinct drop in your energy levels long before you two became a couple, and before he was fully clued in as to what was behind them (don’t be too harsh on him for his ignorance; mers don’t have a cycle like that and it wasn’t something they were taught about during land camp), though he never actually questioned them until you had actually started courting
and the second he learns about the hormonal aspect? consider his interest piqued and your cycle tracked — with a startling level of accuracy… like he can even tell when you’re going to start earlier or later than expected because he tracks your symptoms and the subtle changes in your scent instead of the actual number of days between each period
starts experimenting with different herbs and vitamins and potions to see how your energy levels are impacted by carefully incorporating them into the meals and drinks he prepares for you and keenly observing you for the hours afterwards to check for any sort of change. he claims he’s doing this for your benefit, and that is mostly true as he does want to help you, but he’s also just a very curious eel who likes studying you so… yeah
he keeps your menstrual products of choice on hand when he knows you’re most likely to start bleeding or when he knows you’re already on your period, having memorised the exact details of the specific type of product you use in order to stay completely on top of things. he also has a very well maintained stock of products in his dorm and in azul’s office just in case — and, yes, he times his stock ups around the times when he notices your energy levels starting to dip because he’s efficient
uses trial and error from one month to the next to try and figure out the best ways to both wake you up after you’ve drifted off, and to help you stay awake and focused long enough to make it through your lessons and your shifts at the lounge — and to his credit he has a pretty solid idea of what he’s doing by, like, your fourth or fifth period after you two start dating
will absolutely tease you for falling asleep if you do so in front of him (when you’re not supposed to), but it’s all lighthearted and he truly doesn’t mind acting as your pillow/headrest/bed for as long as you need to recharge your energy. he’s just a bit of an ass and likes to get a rise out of you is all
that being said, he will politely ask other people to leave you alone if he notices them messing with you or mocking you behind your back for being so lethargic all of a sudden. he won’t disclose your particular circumstances, of course, but he will make it very clear that they will not enjoy the outcome if they continue what they’re doing — and, thankfully, most everyone he’s had to talk to so far has been very receptive to his advice and has corrected themselves enough that he hasn’t needed to follow up with them afterwards
don’t ever worry about your sudden quietness bothering him because he’s more than content to either just sit quietly with you and keep an eye on you as you nap in between classes, or to fill the silence himself by talking about his latest terrarium project or whatever he found on his latest hike
your yawning isn’t something he takes offence to either. firstly because he knows well enough that you’re truly just tired and aren’t bored of him. and secondly because he grew up with floyd and has grown accustomed to far less pleasant responses to him sharing his interests with someone. so just relax, rest up, and don’t feel any pressure to perform with energy you don’t have, because jade gets it and is happy to just let you be while he observes… which is about as comforting as it is unsettling, or perhaps more one than the other depending on how accustomed you are to his particular brand of curiosity
l e o n a k i n g s c h o l a r
leona kingscholar is both the best and worst partner you could possibly have if you experience regular periods where your energy drops to near nothing. the best because he doesn’t question or belittle or mock you for it… and the worst because he won’t even try to keep you awake and will just drag you off to nap with him until your period is over
so if you need to find a good spot to nap during your free period he’s your guy — he knows all the spots with the best sun, the most comfortable flooring, and where you’re the least likely to be found and disturbed — but if you’re looking for someone to help you fight off your exhaustion and keep you awake then you’re either gonna have to prompt him for that kind of help or go looking for someone else
not that he can’t or won’t help you stay awake and on top of your schedule, because he can and he will if you want him to, just that he will be offering a lot of token complaints about being treated like a servant while he’s doing all of that for you
if you ever nod off while leaning on him, he’ll just reposition you so you’re less likely to end up with an ache in your neck and either stay awake to make sure you’re not interrupted or (if you’re in his dorm room or somewhere equally private) fall asleep with you. but if you call him out for being so soft and attentive with you he’ll brush you off and make it out like it was just the easiest thing for him to do in the moment
on the days where you’re too worn out to actually focus during class he’ll lend you his own notes to make sure you’re not missing anything important — and maybe threaten ask one of the savannaclaw students in your class to take some more notes on your behalf if things get particularly bad
won’t make a big deal of it if you start to become quiet or withdrawn because of the lack of energy, at most just checking in briefly to make sure you’re just tired and not upset before pulling you down to rest on his chest so you can nap together (and for someone so muscular he makes a surprisingly comfortable napping spot, luckily for you)
he may love you but he’s still a bit of an asshole at heart and will make fun of you if you look particularly out of it (in a funny way). like once he knows that this is just normal for you and not something to be concerned about he has no qualms lovingly bullying you for it
but sevens forbid he catches anyone else doing the same because he will shut them down immediately. you’re his herbivore, after all, and he’s the only one who gets to talk to you that way — especially when it concerns matters related to your personal health
he has enough tact to not say as much outloud but he can absolutely tell when you’re about to start your period because of the slow shift in your energy levels and in your scent. he does keep a healthy stock of your products of choice in his dorm room, though, (courtesy of ruggie, of course) and will casually point them out to you whenever he can smell you starting… and when you’ve changed he’ll waste no time in pulling you down for a nap
all in all, a solid nap buddy and the type of boyfriend you can rely on to have your back and to keep others away when you need to recharge… but could do with some improvements on the whole ‘helping you stay awake’ front (but nobody’s perfect so…)
r o o k h u n t
being the most notorious stalker in all of night raven college, it almost goes without saying that rook was well aware of the changes you went through immediately before, during, and immediately after your period before the two of you became an item. and now that you’re officially together your beloved hunter of beauty is more than happy to put what he knows to better accommodate you even when you feel like you’re on the brink of complete collapse
by his own admission, he can go on for quite a while once he starts talking and that means that you’ll never have to sit through an awkward silence with him — even when you’re at your most withdrawn. but at the same time, the sheer passion behind his words can be enough to disorient or startle you sometimes if he catches you when you’re particularly out of it… but such is the risk of dating someone like rook
and speaking of rants, he can easily go on for hours at the time waxing poetically about the beauty of your exhaustion and the efforts you go to in order to fight it… but if you happen to fall asleep midway through one of his impassioned speeches he will lower his volume and minimise his movements to ensure you have a most restful slumber under his ever watchful eye (and if you don’t fall asleep on him he will be fetching his camera to snap a photo to commemorate the beauty of the moment… sorry not sorry)
he already spends a lot of time watching you even when you’re not on your period, but when your cycle hits you the hardest he becomes almost religious in his stalking and observation. partially because he just finds you fascinating and loves to watch you go about your day, but mostly so he can properly keep track of your symptoms from moment to moment and always stay on top of your needs (it’s cute in a slightly creepy way, but by now you’re certainly used to rook’s more unique approach to doting on you so it should come as no surprise that he’s doing all of this for you)
whenever you decide to nap between lessons or during your break period, rook makes a point of staying close and staying awake in order to make sure nobody messes with you/your things or disturbs your much needed rest — only ever actually waking you up when you do have somewhere you need to be (and then theatrically despairing over disturbing your beauty rest). and he can be very intimidating when he needs to be so you have nothing to worry about when it comes to being interrupted
for as keen as his senses are, and for as obsessively as he observes you in your day-to-day, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise to learn that rook is able to track your period with a startling degree of accuracy. though he only ever uses this knowledge to your benefit by stocking up your products of choice and supporting you when you start to feel your energy drop even before you realise that you’re due
as touched upon previously, rook is a talker. a very theatrical and passionate one at that. so if you ever need anyone to help you stay awake, you needn’t look any further than your darling boyfriend, who is more than happy to regale you with whatever knowledge he’s gathered that day in order to help you fight off the urge to fall asleep. and if you’re in a situation where he cannot talk for whatever reason? well, he has his methods for that too. don’t worry, you’re in good hands
do not let him catch you yawning because he will get extremely emotional over it and start gushing poetically about how adorable and beautiful and endearing and whatever other positive adjectives he’s decided you are that day. and no you will not be able to stop him from doing this. vil can’t even stop him. just let him get it out of his system
as a member of the science club, and as someone that is generally rather talented when it comes to potion making, rook has the means at his disposal to try and make something to help you effectively combat your exhaustion during your period. but as that requires a lot of time, a lot of experimentation, and a lot of trial and error, it will take a while before you two are able to settle on something that both works well enough to help you focus during classes and that isn’t so potent that it leaves lingering and undesirable aftereffects after being consumed… and even then he will continue to tinker with the recipe because he very firmly believes that you only deserve the best
all in all, rook is a very attentive partner who will do what he can to both keep on top of your needs to ensure you don’t have to deal with any unnecessary stress and help you find ways to work around your low energy throughout the duration of your period. but he can also be a bit much to deal with if your lack of energy makes you more prone to irritability, so… do with that whatever you will
A/n: A quick Rook x reader drabble with you as Ramshackle's prefect.
TW: Rook's staker-ish habits. He would kindly stop if you ask, but you'd have to find out he's doing it in the first place.
Rook had always been forthcoming about his avoidance to strong fragrance items. Scent--or lack thereof--was a hunter's biggest necessity in a game of chase, and he preferred to always have the advantage in such a case.
Which is why it confused Vil more when he just so happened to notice the bottles of fragrance sprays and lotions lined across the top of his vanity. A variety of brands and bottles, and all with not even a drop of product missing from their containers.
Each one was entirely new, as if they had just been pulled from their boxes and left to collect the sunshine that danced through the stained glass in the mornings.
His huntsman was a bit eccentric, yes, he would admit it. But Rook had always been that way, and he certainly had never meant any harm by it. He always had a reason behind his motives.
Still, the sight confused him.
They weren't his own, or--thankfully--Neige branded items, which he could have at least understood. Vil still couldn't stand looking at Rook's bed-set because of it. Instead, they were across a wide array of prices and brand names that he could never understand why the hunter had amassed such a collection.
"Ah! You have noticed it, have you?" Said blonde chirped, all too excited to share whatever he had to say with his Housewarden. "Nothing escapes your sharp eyes. As expected of our Roi du Poison."
A perfectly styled brow twitched as Vil turned to glance at Rook.
"I thought you said you did not dabble in perfumes. It was hassle enough trying to get some on you for orientation, and yet--" His hand gestured lightly to the bottles. "Here you are with a stash of lotions and designer fragrances. All unused. Is there such a point to this?"
The huntsman just gave an all-too-innocuous smile, hand over his heart as he bowed his hat-laden head just slightly. "Oui. I did not deceive you when I said I do not wear fragrances, Dear Vil. Fragrances are still a hunter's greatest weakness." Under the shadow of his brim, the corners of his eyes crinkled in that way when he was skirting around the subject--when he refused to tell more than what he deemed a person should know.
"I have simply found myself in the interest of collecting such an intricate collection. The Trickster has quite the intriguing taste that I cannot help but find myself drawn to understand it more!"
Ah, so this was about the Prefect from Ramshackle, then. Vil couldn't say that he was surprised considering how sharp of an interest Rook had begun to find in you. Still, he couldn't help but subtlely voice his concern "Just see that this obsession does not go too far." His arms crossed gracefully across his chest. "A collection like this that is made to collect dust is a waste of money and a waste of product. I assume you would not be so frivolously wasteful."
"Ah, how beautifully conscientious you are--as always!" Rook sighed blissfully, flicking the brim of his hat and knocking the band back slightly on his head, black feather dancing with the movement. "Rest assured, My Fairest Queen. There is no need to worry, as they will be used to their fullest extent. Not one single drop shall go to waste."
He probably should've questioned it, yes, but there was no doubt that the hunter would simply avoid the topic if it wasn't deemed worth sharing. So--instead--Vil simply nodded in acknowledgement before bringing their conversation back on their previous topic, needing advice on how to train the freshmen for an upcoming charity banquet.
Over at Ramshackle, you were beginning to feel like you were slowly losing your mind.
You noticed a strange pattern when it came to using your fragrance items. Every time you'd find yourself using the last little drop of your bottles, fully intent on buying a new one when you had the chance, you'd turn around and find it back on your dresser. Except, now it was completely full; Not a single little ounce missing, as if it was some magician's refilling glass. Even stranger was the fact that sometimes there would be new items.
As in, you'd never purchased them to begin with. Entirely new products that--even more terrifyingly--would be perfect in its fragrance notes. Every single part of a scent that you liked in your other products, the new container would have the exact match. It was like it had been expertly hand-picked just for your tastes; Rarely ever did you receive a scented product that you didn't end up liking. It was frightening and you couldn't help but feel like someone was taking note of everything about you.
Of course, as you steadily spiraled in your room--just outside the rotted walls of Ramshackle--the rustle of glass and a low French croon echoed out across the grass before fading deep within the dense woods. A shimmering purple fluttering in the gentle breeze with steps unheard.
If you shoot me down, is it the victory that excites you, or the way I squirm under your arrowed gaze.
Do I interest you?
Is it my nature that draws the hunter's gaze?
Or am I just a game to you?
One step ahead, 3 steps behind—I hear you there.
The cracking stick is more dangerous than the silence.
I'm not supposed to notice you.
You let me know your presence,
A reminder to scare or to reassure me—I don't know
Not even the deer knows why it's followed.
Only the Huntsman knows why he hunts,
Only the Archer knows where their arrow flies,
Only the Rook knows what path to take.
So when the bow string snaps—when that arrow flies afar—I don't run or hide from its path. For surely, this, too, was for a reason.
———————————————————————————
(A/n: I don’t claim to be a poet, so don’t even think about hashing my vibe over here. Rook just brings out a creativity and I won’t take flack for it. This is for my own enjoyment, and it only has to make sense for me /ref.)
CW: Bondage, Tokushin as Bondage/Incorrect use of Tokushin Manipulation, Slight Manga spoilers for Tamsy's personality, might be slightly OOC, Tamsy is Tamsy, Tamsy also calls you 'Angel', Spit as lube, Degrading, Orgasm denial/control, Clicker Training, Probably unrealistic clicker training, reader is a bit naive (sorry, I had to), and--of course--Smut. That means 18+.
Word Count: A little over 5k. My longest to date, I'm pretty sure.
A/N: This has been stuck in my drafts for about a week. I would also like to preface that this is the first time I've ever written for this character, so I apologize for any discrepancies in his character. There's only so much I can do without giving too much away. I do hope you'll enjoy it reader.
"Have we learned our lesson then, angel? From now on, if you need something, come directly to me—and me alone. Clearly you can't be trusted to help yourself."
Tamsy wasn't exactly the kind of person you'd find yourself putting on a list consisting of 'highly suspicious persons that are certainly up to no good'. He had never really done anything to ping off that alarm bell in the back of your mind. Always a shoulder to lean on—an ear to talk to, even if he wasn't nearly as responsive as you were talkative.
The ever-reliable cleaner had never given any inclination of being a bit more wary of his behavior. But staring at him—all smiles and a mirthful crinkle to those warm, milky eyes of his. You couldn't catch sight of what his hand thumbed at from those winged sleeves of his despite the clear fluttering movement.
Though no one would never be able to guess the amount of trouble it would really cause you in the end.
He had just returned from the most recent job with Team Akuta. Some trash beasts had migrated from a nearby no-man's land and descended upon a nearby town. Thankfully, nothing too big, but it had taken some time for the teams to clear it up and pack it up back home. It seemed Tamsy had found himself a souvenir to cart back with him.
Tucked in the privacy of his room, he allowed the fabric of his sleeve to roll down his arm, revealing a small plastic device held between his pointer and thumb. Skin smoothed over the worn surface as he turned on his heel to glance at you. It wasn't really something that you were familiar with, but he must have had an idea if he picked it out of a trash heap.
"Usually I try to keep out of the waste piles for the sake of sanitation." His gaze swept over the object in his grasp, sandy lashes fluttering as if in thought. "But this was simply something I just could not resist acquiring when it caught my eye."
There was no doubt the excited tones in that ever-soothing voice of his, but you just couldn't understand just why he seemed so excited about such a small thing. It would probably be mistaken as some childish toy, had that been any part of Tamsy's personality.
"That's great and all, Tams, sure. But, um…what exactly is it? It's about as indiscernible as the rest of the trash out in the wastelands. " Rocking slightly on your heels, you glanced briefly between the object in his hand and back to him, and then back to the plastic.
Stray blonde strands fluttered with the slight tilt of his head.
"You don't know what this is?"
You shook your head. Again, not a clue.
"Some kind of vital instrument?"
The corner of his lip twitching had you ducking your head slightly; A flush exploded across your skin like paint swiped across a canvas. Had that been stupid statement to suggest? His other hand (still covered by his large sleeve) came to rest over his mouth as he peered down his nose at your embarrassed figure—amusement swimming in those golden pools as he studied silently. After a moment, he collected himself enough to answer calmly.
"Not quite." He mused. "It's an old tool one would use to train an animal in whichever way they deemed necessary, often a stand-in for the usual phrases of praise. Supposedly, they worked exceptionally well in producing a desired outcome to a specific task."
As he spoke, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to shake the feeling of danger that slithered coldly along your spine. Coughing weakly to somewhat quell the anxiety pooling in your gut, your brain worked to put together a suitable response that wouldn't seem too concerned. Though the twitch of your brow gave it away in an instant. Despite it, Tamsy said nothing and simple watched you scramble for an excuse—he would spare the embarrassment for now, graciously.
Eventually, the gears began to turn enough for something to come spiraling out of your mouth.
"But you don't have an animal to train." Shifting your weight to your other foot, it was tough trying to ignore his blatant, burning stare. It was like he was peering through nothing more than a polished glass. "So what use do you have for it? Surely you're not planning on somehow getting one of those trash beasts under your control with that puny toy."
"I suppose you're correct on that front—there is no animal for me to test such an idea on. Quite a shame.." His eyes locked on you despite the seemingly yielding tone of his voice. Wholeheartedly expecting him to pout then (despite never really seeing him pout before), it was hard to believe he felt anything other than joy as the skin around his eyes crinkled.
Somewhere distant, an alarm bell was blaring deafeningly.
Weeks had gone by since the conversation, and you had figured it would have been the end of any mention of that strange little piece of plastic. He never seemed to bring up again, and you had no interest in mentioning it if he had never seemed bothered to talk about it. It would've been something easy to push to the back of your mind.
Until he began to haunt you with it.
Nights with Tamsy so often ended with heated sessions of sex, especially if one—or, more likely, both—had gotten back from a particularly rough job. With the stress nowhere to go inside your bodies, it wasn't a particularly surprising outcome. And damnit if you didn't love when the dual-haired man brought you to that gratifying edge of pleasure.
It didn't matter how he did it. Be it by burying his fingers deep in your hole with that expert curl that had stars exploding across your vision, slick pumps of his cock snug in your warm walls, or his mouth working skillfully against you—it all brought you to the edge without much fail. Often, he didn't stray from what he knew would get you both off the fastest.
It was hard not to notice the sudden appearance of a resounding 'click' immediately after your body went alight with another sharp orgasm. How could you not when it seemed so out of place? You'd likely look past it if it had been a 'here and there' occasion.
But this was every. Single. Time.
When your vision had cleared from the startling white heat of ecstasy, you'd catch sight of him—warm, milky eyes locked on your form with that tool in his left hand, his thumb already compressing the small plastic button.
"Tamsy.." You had panted one night, curiosity winning over. "What are you using that for? You know I can't be trained like that, right?"
Saying nothing more than a hum, he'd tuck it away from wherever he had procured it in his room.
"Don't concern your mind with it—I'm sure it is simply something in the pipes, is all." Then he'd give you that smile. So soothing and reassuring that you could eventually ignore the bad taste welling up in your mouth at the contradiction of his words.
You really should've pressed on about the sound, but you couldn't fault him for his curiosity. Maybe he was right. Rats were a common thing, and there was no telling the stability of the old structure. Maybe it was simply your mind playing tricks on you.
As per the consequences of being a cleaner (and a highly revered one among headquarters), Tamsy was called off on yet another job. Something high stakes and urgent—Semiu had mentioned trash beasts encroaching on the safety of a smaller town, and the South Ward had desperately called upon the Cleaner's help with dispelling them. A usual request, but no less important. Nothing to really worry about, thankfully.
Your partner would be gone just a little under a week. With no real time to dwell on him being dispatched anyways, you shifted your energy to the jobs that required it the most. It's not like they'd complete themselves anytime soon. Besides, you weren't some desperate barnacle that needed to be attached to his hip all day, every day. The only downside of taking on the assignments would be the stress they came with.
And you hate to seem like some helpless, horny teenager, but everyone has needs. It tends to work without fail, and you always feel ten times lighter after.
Well…that's how it would have gone, if you hadn't suddenly found it so hard to cum.
No matter what got used, or how you brought yourself to that edge, you couldn't do it. More often than not, you fell into fitful bouts of sleep by the end of it simply because of the amount if frustration pent up in every fiber of your being. Sleep alone was bad enough, but the steadily rising irritation began to seep into daily tasks.
A trash beast's ferocity couldn't even begin to rival the pent-up tension. From the perspective of everyone else, it had been like you flipped some sort of switch in your brain, and they were getting concerned. Semiu and Corvus considered benching you altogether, only to worry how you might've taken it—the last thing anyone needed was you absolutely crashing out and on some sort of warpath. Then, it was suggested to wait until the group from the South Ward returned (mainly Tamsy), before deciding how to proceed.
Except, word never reached you when the team had finally returned from the wastelands—tucked away in the shelter of your room with your hand between your bare thighs. Your pants were nowhere to be seen, and you were undoubtedly being a little too loud. Caring about that had long since passed, though; All that ran through your mind was pleasure.
As close as one could get without actually being able to jump into the shimmering temptation of ecstasy, that is. The only sounds in the room were your pants and moans, and the occasional whine of frustration. No matter the speed of your fingers or how deep they pumped into you, you couldn't hit that peak.
Over and over and over, you would draw closer to that edge, ready to finally succumb to the siren's song of need.
And over and over, like clockwork, you'd find yourself unable to hit the water, no matter how close you toed the shore.
Frustrated tears built in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as you sucked in another sharp breath of helplessness. The burning in your gut threatened to consume any fleeting pleasure. Soon, it would ebb away into yet another night of dissatisfaction without a single thing you could do about it. Fingers working away at that sweet spot until unearned overstimulation creaked in your veins. An ache in your wrist began to build.
Continuing to curl, and plunge, and whine, you didn't get to acknowledge the sound of a sharp knock against your door. It was locked anyway; You had made sure of such, so there wasn't a worry to be had about who stood on the other side. Maybe quieting down, but nothing beyond that. The movement of your fingers didn't slow in the slightest.
It was only when the lock on your door slid away with a resounding 'clunk' that an icy wind finally blew through your veins, freezing your blood and heart where they pumped away. Eyes snapping up, there wasn't a single moment of time to pull your fingers away before the metal creaked open. You tried to hastily cover yourself with a blanket, but it was too late.
Those golden, honey hues had already locked right onto you. Navy brows jump at the thicker ends with just the slightest modicum of surprise. Pushing up with a free hand, you scrambled desperately for a chance to explain the situation; The hand between your legs pulled free from your twitching, greedy hole with a lewd 'schlick' of built-up spit.
"T-Tamsy!" You wiped your hand against the sheets. "You're back!"
He wasn't supposed to see you like this—utterly desperate and vulnerable.
Blinking simply, those warm eyes stared down at you from the doorway. The light from the hallway beyond had a shadow casting across his face—you could almost swear he looked like a completely different person as he stood there as still as a statue. After a moment, he shuffled into the room and shut the door behind him, wrist reaching back to slide the lock back in place with a latching sound.
"So I am, though it seems I haven't been missed in such a moment." His feet carried him closer to the bed, large sleeves just barely dragging the floor. Milky eyes swept across your half-bare form with an appraising gaze.
"Or," he mused, "is it because you missed me far too much that you're in this predicament to begin with?" His voice was like taffy, sweet words gumming up every rational thought in your distressed brain. Under all that sweetness lay a clear tang of reprimand as he stalked closer.
Head tilting, his eyes trailed from your hand up to your eyes.
You couldn't speak—frozen completely with only your mouth left gaping. As he stood there, silently, you realized he still waited for an answer.
"I-I just…I needed—"
"Needed?" He was quick to interject. "Is that so?" He was quick to interject, stopping mere inches from the side of the bed. "You couldn't wait for me to return, and—yet—here you've found yourself so desperate that you couldn't even answer when I called you name through the door. Do you really even need me, then?"
"Yes!" Your hand shot out, grabbing at his sleeve. The space between his brows wrinkled, rounded nose scrunching just slightly as if he'd been personally offended. You were quick to draw your hand back and turned your gaze downward. "I-I do need you. It's been hard to…to actually cum without you. I don't know what's wrong with me; I need you so bad."
The sharpness of his eyes softened, the thinner portion of his navy brows raising with an almost pitied concern.
"Poor thing, are you so pathetic that even reaching such a basic point is too hard without me? You must have been so terribly neglected while I was gone." Degradation and soothing softness swirled into a dangerous concoction of patronization, but you hardly even cared at this point. In fact, it only seemed to make you more lightheaded. "And while I do hate rewarding greedy behaviors, your passion is all too admirable for me to deny."
Every word made you feel more and more like an ant beneath a heavy boot to be squashed and stared at. A fire blazed along your veins in spite of it.
Fuck, you needed more.
Tamsy seemed to sense it too as he tilted his nose to stare down at you. The right sleeve of his jacket fluttered with the movement of his arm, but his eyes held your gaze with a restraining authority.
"So, I suppose if it must be, then I'll do what I can to help you reach that desire."
Relief flooded your veins. Weight fell off your shoulders and had your body visibly sagging with internal rejoicement. Finally, you'd soon be past this painful roadblock, and the desperation would be gone. No more frustration and sleepless nights—just pure, unbridled bliss.
The thoughts of reprieve had you distracted long enough to barely register his vital instrument slipping down his sleeve and into his hand, fingers cradling the wooden handle before it erupted in a blaze of blue light. That dual-toned glow built in his eyes, matching the shades of his hair with near perfection. It was as if the heavens above were shining down on you; An angel glancing your way.
"Hold still, won't you dear?"
Rough cerulean binds wrapped around every surface of your being, stringing you up on the sheets like some twisted little gift to be unwrapped. Beside the bed, Tamsy pulled up a small chair from the far corner of your room and plopped himself upon it with a hum—and that insufferable look of indifference.
You struggled for a moment against the binds of Tokushin, only to be rewarded with tightening strings across your body. Cloth bunched under rope, causing your shirt to ride up just a bit along your body and expose more skin to the air, which was quickly wrapped with another heavy stripe of the rope. In the chair, Tamsy watched you struggle slightly against the tightening binds of Tokushin. On bare skin, there was no doubt about those blue threads that would leave matching blue bruises across your body later.
Eventually, the binds grew too tight for any more movement, and you stilled as best as you could. Nothing more than a hostage among the royal blue strings—like a foolish bug pinned to a spider's silk.
It was infuriating.
"Tamsy." You tilted your head, trying desperately to keep deathly still despite the instinct to buck your hips. "Please."
He blinked simply, crossing a leg at the ankle. Reaching his free hand up, the hair tie was tugged free from blonde strands, causing his hair to spill over his shoulders like a cascade of silky sand. Those dual-colored eyes took a disinterested stare as he watched you in the grasp of his net.
"Please, what, angel? I cannot help if you do not tell me how." Tamsy thumbed at the distaff at his side, rubbing along the length of its sleek blue shaft. His eyes trailed over where his ropes dug into your flushed skin. "Then again, I don't believe I should reward such behavior—after all, it would just encourage you to believe you can get away with it."
You tried to tug your wrist away, but quickly froze when the threads tightened. Tears were building in your eyes from the need welling up in your body, shivers wracking your body enough that you struggled to keep yourself still.
"That's n-not true! Please! I need to cum so badly." You sobbed, throwing your head back and squeezing your eyes shut. If you didn't get what you needed, you swore you were going to lose it. "I-I won't do it again, I swear—Tamsy, please! A-Anything you want, I just want this to be over with."
There it was, his lashes fluttered slightly over his dual-toned eyes. Humming, pretending as if to think it over, his other hand thumbed with the small, primitive device in his sleeve. That little tool that had become instrumental despite you never even thinking about it, and look at where it had gotten you. Tied in his grasp and desperate for his help, because he was the only person who could do it.
He had hoped for this outcome, naturally. Nothing was accidental when it came to him.
Still, he sat there in thought as you slowly lost your mind to the need welling up in every surface of your body. He could see every tense muscle—every sharp breath as Tokushin's binds wound around your clothed chest. Quietly, he mused.
"Anything..? My, isn't that quite the proposition?" Rising to his feet, he moved to where you were bound atop your bed. "Though I don't feel utterly convinced that this isn't just one large plan to get what you want."
You wanted to scream—it was annoying when he teased like this, and you didn't have the patience to deal with it anymore.
Through tear-filled eyes, your gaze met his as you pleaded weepingly, "Please, Tamsy. I-I'm sorry I got greedy—but I needed it so bad. Needed you so bad." You hated how broken you sounded as you begged, "I-It won't happen again, I promise! I just—fuck, I need to cum so bad. Please let me. Please, please—"
You're sure you looked utterly pathetic, bound and helpless as tears of shame and desperation ran down your face and onto the sheets beneath you. Unable to hide as Tamsy eyed you up like you were simply the dirt under his shoe. He stood and stared for a few moments, eyes narrowing and shifting to scan your expression. Silence followed—aside from your whimpers and hiccups—before he moved to set his instrument against the wall. The ropes didn't budge in the slightest as he kept the distaff activated.
Gently tracing his now free hand along your inner thighs, his nails dragged against the sensitive skin there. Flushed, sweat-soaked, and tensing with the muscles that lie just underneath—he had to admit, it was a sight he could never get bored with. A pinch had your hips jolting before the binds tightened further, drawing a gasp from your throat at the feeling. Tamsy only hummed in response.
"What would you do without me? I fear this intervention makes the answer all too clear," Closer and closer his fingers danced. "You'd be helpless. A poor, pathetic little bird with clipped wings, hmm?"
Moving onto the bed—right between your legs—he tugged at a rope closest to your leg, prompting it to pull taut and spread you wider before him. His soft, sandy locks fluttered across your skin as he leaned over you to whisper against your ear, his fingers drawing further along your inner thigh until they reached the junction just between where it connected to your hips. "If you need to find your release that badly, who am I to deny you?"
Lithe fingers now pressed against your abused hole, teasing just the tips inside as he nibbled at your outer lobe. Kisses trailed lightly down the column of your neck, occasionally broken by the drag of his piercing against your skin, before he placed a heavy kiss against your throat. Pulling away from your neck just slightly, his eyes caught yours in a gaze you couldn't look away from.
"After all, I'm the only one who can help you."
Without warning, two of his fingers slammed deep before setting off instantaneously on a brutal pace. A rope slammed itself against your lips in a gag, forcing your tongue against the harsh material and drawing drool along the coarse, navy fibers. Tamsy leaned back to watch, allowing his fingers to piston in and out of your own spit-slicked hole with a. A slight curl of his fingers had your eyes rolling back. His own caught sight of your eyes widening at the overwhelming pleasure.
Drawing you to the edge didn't take long, especially when he coaxed along that sweet spot with his fingertips. In and out they pumped, nails bumping against your gummy walls again and again until you were sure it was going to be bruised. Unable to help himself (and knowing it would be to your detriment), the man leaned forward and nudged your clothes enough out of the way to reveal your nipples to the cold air. Almost instantly, they pebbled, and he wasted no time in nipping slightly on one of the buds.
You whined and couldn't help but arch into his mouth at the feeling, only for him to draw away with a soft smile across his face.
Leaning down, he placed a kiss against your inner thigh before giving it a sharp bite that had you groaning against your gag. Another sharp curl had your lashes fluttering above your unfocused gaze. Warmth tensed around his fingers, and he made a sound of encouragement low in his throat—you were close now.
With his still-free hand, he reached back into the pocket of his pants and pulled out that plastic tool before using the sleeve of his uniform's coat to hide it from your view (though he doubted you'd even be able to register it at all in your state). Those still glowing eyes gazed through heavy, sandy lashes at your blissful expression.
The tears along your cheeks had his cock jumping in his pants—what he wouldn't do to make you sob.
"Close, are you? Do you wish to cum, Angel?" Another sharp curl had your teeth biting down on the coarse twine of thread. He could see it in the way your lashes fluttered. Your eyes were heavily glazed with a desperate fog that he was sure he'd never get used to seeing.
As expected, you didn't give a response. How could you when your brain had buried itself so far between your legs that thinking was a chore at this point? Still, he wouldn't let you off so easily.
"I need an answer—it's rude to ignore me." His fingers slowed their pace, instead beginning to slowly pull out. The way you squeezed around him was almost amusing—like you were desperate to keep him inside you. It almost convinced him enough to just give you what you so clearly needed. But he wanted to see that desperation even more.
"Maybe you really don't need this, then, if answering is so hard for you to manage."
Panic coursed through your body, eyes snapping down to look at him through a wide, watery stare. Your brows scrunched up, and you tried to follow the movement of his fingers. You were so close; You needed to cum so badly, no matter what pride you had to swallow.
"Ph-weaz—" you mumbled against the spit-soaked rope, face flushed. Frustrated tears welled in your eyes as you looked up at him. "Ph-weaz weh 'e cuh—"
Utterly pathetic.
He'd need to get you like this more often.
"Since you asked so nicely.."
Smiling softly, he plunged his fingers in deep and gave a sharp curl. Leaning forward, he hummed and licked at the tears on your cheek with a sadistic mirth dancing in his eyes—all the while keeping that soft smile that usually had you melting in your boots.
A silk-coated dagger that itched to make its home in your bones.
As he lapped at your tears (an action that, embarrassingly, had you whimpering and clenching tight around his digits at the same time), his other hand pulled the clicker from the hidden nook of his sleeve and held it just behind his back.
"Be good, and cum for me."
As he slammed his fingers deep and gave a sharp curl of his fingers—which he knew would send you right over the edge—he pressed down on the device with a resounding 'click'.
You swear you could've died when that sound hit your ears. No sooner had it resonated than your body was unbound from Tokushin as you curled in on yourself, pleasure coursing through your body with a shattering intensity and a sharp, but muffled cry against the gag. Nebulae exploded across your vision, blurring reality and fantasy and leaving you a whimpering, withering mess under Tamsy's gaze. He gave a few more sharp thrusts of his fingers, relishing in your sobs from overstimulation before pulling them out with an obscene 'pop'.
He wiped the slick off across your lower stomach as he allowed his vital instrument to finally disengage completely. You sank into the sheets fully, basking in the long-overdue pleasure as you steadily floated back from cloud nine.
When you landed back in reality, Tamsy sat there watching you. His hand soothed over an already forming bruise on your thigh, his thumb sliding over the sensitive skin. You gave a weak whine and tried to shift away from the agonizing touch.
"Are we satisfied now?" He glanced up at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. You only groaned in response, laying an arm across your eyes as you struggled to steady your breath.
"What…the hell.." It felt like all you could say, surely. "T-That was…"
"Rewarding?" The cleaner murmured, "Yes, I do imagine that it was. It does wonders when you listen to me, doesn't it?"
You huffed, unable to meet his gaze. He slid the clicker back into his pocket when you glanced away. Leaning up, he placed a kiss against your temple. "Have we learned our lesson then, angel? From now on, if you need something, you need only come directly to me—and me alone. It's all too clear that you can't be trusted to help yourself."
Sliding away, your arm revealed an annoyed glance. But you couldn't help but think of your sessions while he'd been gone. Desperate finger-fucking that only got you to the last stop but never home. Left in frustrated tears, and tatters from the denial alone.
He was right.
"It's so weird…I don't know what's wrong with me." You murmured, body shaking with the lingering energy of your orgasm.
Tamsy hummed, sitting back on his heels as he pulled his navy locks from their tassels. His pants did well enough to hide the growing tent of his erection—something for another time, should he need it.
"Nothing to worry yourself over. It is likely just a side effect of so much stress. Or, you're too used to me that you can't do without." He suggested only half-seriously—eyes sweeping over your exhausted form.
"Mmm," you hummed, snorting. "Sure, maybe so."
Tamsy smiled as you rested back against the pillows, your eyes sliding shut as exhaustion took over.
"Get some rest, hmm? You've more than earned it, I imagine." Sliding off the bed, his feet found purchase on the marble floor of your room. "I'll get cleaned up and join you."
As you drifted off, he tucked the clicker back in his pocket. He could almost feel it weighing down the fabric as he gave another glance at your form—already deep asleep by the time he had collected Tokushin off the floor.
The only witness to the sudden cold, calculating expression on his face was the breeze along the open window beside your bed. Milky eyes staring at you as if daring you to rouse awake.
You didn't need to know his secret; you simply needed to believe that only he could help you when you couldn't help yourself. He could hardly feel bad about forcing you into such a reliance. Turning on his heel, he stalked into the bathroom with a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.
After all, a dog will never leave the hand that treats it.
A/N: Kinks are so fascinating aren't they? One moment you can be sitting down, admiring your favorite character, and the next you can be thinking about how enjoyable it would be for them to hunt you down. Sigh...it's incredible.
Pairing: Akutagawa x GN Reader. If i've missed any gendered language, please be sure to let me know.
CW: Smut(obviously) so 18+ only, Predator/Prey, Technical Bondage, Degrading language, Ryuu is Ryuu, may be slightly OOC, spit as lube, could be read as anal play, maybe a smidge of exhibitionism (mentions of being caught, but you aren't), rough sex, a bit of stalking--but it's all consensual because consent is sexy.
Word Count: 4k+
Ummm, nothing else to say but enjoy!
Testing the waters with Ryuu was a challenge only the most idiotic people would ever dare to think of doing, and—more often than not—those that did decide to test their luck never really found themselves wanting to be near him ever again. He had been more than inclined to lob off a certain few…extremities when particularly pissed. And there weren't really any exceptions to his sharp, winning personality.
So, naturally, you felt you had some sort of exception.
Now, you had this little secret that most never got to realize—Ryuu was fiercely protective. Of what little he had. Of the people that knew him most. Of you--the one budding flower of light in his garden of darkness. Akutagawa hated more than anything to see you hurt under his watchful eye. He'd never forgive himself if you became harmed when he wasn't there to stop it.
So you decided, maybe ignorantly, that you would see just how far you could push such an instinct. You had mostly just meant to rile him up when you suggested a late night walk on your own.
His head snapped up from where he was reading on the couch, eyes narrowed and dark as he stared at where you stood by the front door. You watched as he looked you over, snapping his book shut with a resounding sharpness.
"At this hour? Don't be absurd," He snarled, standing to move without a moment's hesitation. Ryuunosuke understood you could make your own choices, but you wouldn't exactly be free from the consequences. "Take a walk in the morning. If you must head out—and I sincerely doubt that you do—then I'm coming with you." His words left no room for argument--the tone clipped and sharp as his eyes locked with yours.
It was almost amusing how much of a guard dog he could be, bristling like a personally offended Malinois.
Rolling your eyes, you slipped your coat over your shoulders and pulled on your shoes with a hum. This wouldn't be easy. "Ryuu, it'll just be a quick walk. I'll be back before you can even think about it." You glanced away to adjust the neck of your sock, and your head snapped up just in time to find him right beside you. His eyes burned down into yours, but you just shot him a smile and turned to the door.
"I'll be right back, I promise." You were quick to not give him any chance to respond as you slipped out the front door. Padding down the front steps, you hummed and pulled out your phone. It was innocent enough on its own—of course—until you switched your location services off completely. Then, you gave one last glance to the door before twisting and walking off in a random direction through the sparsely-populated streets. It was late...and you weren't likely to run into many people at this time.
Perfect.
Now the game could begin.
For about half an hour, you moved silently along the streets. Shops and restaurants with their blaring, buzzing lights were the only real sign of life as you glided along the concrete. A hum bubbled in your throat, head high as you walked—a sense of confidence held in the precarious situation you had placed yourself in.
It was a nice night for a walk, you had to admit. The moon shone full overhead, and you were thankful for its guiding light as you moved on your way. Sometimes it was the only light you had in the streets which held barely any luminance from the street lamps--if any at all.
Even then, you weren't too nervous.
It was peaceful for a couple more blocks, with the only sound being from the occasional buzz of an insect passing by or chatter from a nearby stranger. Still, nothing to worry about.
The sudden sound of branches rustling off the road beside you gave you a startle. Your steps faltered, but you dared not turn to try and see what it was. Stray cats and foxes were not uncommon in this area, and you brushed it off as said stray animal just looking for a bite to eat. Nothing to really worry about.
Still, you picked up the pace just slightly and walked down the street and rounded the corner, arms tucked close against your chest as your head whipped around for a sign of any threats. You could see that this sidewalk was a lot more deserted—and there were no doubts it would grow more and more empty the longer you walked. You weren't going to double back now, though.
It was fine. Why wouldn't it be?
It wasn't as if you had just tempted Yokohama's Black-Toothed Hellhound to a game of cat and mouse—that would just be plain crazy. But, what was the harm in speeding up a little? Surely there would be no problems with you breaking into a brisk walk.
Subconsciously, you knew that the beast would be drawn to fleeing prey—something inside you purred that it only made all of this more enticing.
When you reached the end of the current street, you found the hair rising on the back of your neck. It was as if you were standing in the middle of an incoming thunderstorm with nowhere to hide. Each step brought more chills and anxiety crackled through your veins. You didn't even have to look to know that your skin prickled rapidly with gooseflesh. Heart thundering in your chest, you tried desperately to ignore the feeling of eyes in the back of your head.
You didn't think it would have been this terrifying. Was this how his enemies felt all the time—looking over their shoulder for the rapid beast that would waste no time in tearing their throats out? Honestly, you almost felt bad for them…almost.
Startling you out of your thoughts, something shifted behind you—a gentle click-click of heels against concrete just a couple paces behind you. The sound was familiar; You would have recognized them anywhere even if you forgot everything else about your life. The sound caused you to whip your head around, forcing you to just barely catch sight of the slight blur of something black retreating and melding into the dark shadows of the alleys. Red crackled in its wake. Dancing lightning before a storm arrived.
He was there, and he wanted more than anything to make sure that you knew. After all, those unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of the beast's deadly maw only ever saw him when he let them see—when they were already too late to do anything but be snared in a carefully set trap.
You never turned so fast, rushing to the opposite side of the street and hurrying the way you came.
It was time to go home.
The jog back through the streets was a shaky one, your arms tucked against your sides as you tried to ignore the noises and feeling of sharp eyes on the back of your head. The sharp click of a heel here. The rustling of charged fabric there; You could have sworn you heard a sharp breath and a familiar cough before it was whisked away on the sound of a beastly growl. Every time, your head whipped around to the sight of nothing but empty streets and swaying trees.
Click—click—click.
Maybe you could hide somewhere instead? Inside an alleyway? Or, behind that bush?
Your legs carried you faster and faster. All you had to do was make it home—just a few more steps and you'd be home free!
You'd win!
The sharp tendril of black curled snugly around your waist before you could even register how you had lost since the beginning. It tugged—sharply—and you were dragged into the nearest dark alley. Pulled past the dripping fangs and into the belly of the beast, like a rabbit to the awaiting wolf.
Cold brick pressed was against your cheek—Or, maybe it was your heated skin that was shoved against the rough wall instead. Everything in your vision (and gut) swirled as that familiar, sharp silhouette pressed you into the wall to begin with. Long, slender fingers curled tightly against the back of your neck, adding just enough pressure to cause you to gasp in shock—your body froze on instinct. One wrong move, and you'd be in for a world of true torture.
His voice coiled in your brain, the words spoken on a cold wind that sent shivers across your heated skin. “You really are unbelievable. Did you really think I wouldn’t come find you?” You could almost hear the smirk as he scoffed and pressed himself closer, crowding you mercilessly against the cold brick. His hands trailed down your sides, settling snugly around your hips as his fingertips dug into the fabric of your pants. "Or...is that what you were hoping for? That I would hunt you down like the sick little freak that you are? I'm almost pleased that you hold such a recognition of my talents."
Without a second thought, his hands shifted with lightning speed. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of your pants and underwear combined before shucking them unceremoniously to your ankles with a sharp grunt. You barely held back a moan as he ground himself forward against you harshly, the sharp movement of his hips forcing you to roll up on the balls of your feet and press your hands against the brick for support. There was a slight tickle against your ear; His lips brushing along the shell as his warm breath spread across your prickled skin.
"But next time, I suggest you carefully consider choosing a game you'll win."
His hands were deft—pale, slender fingers flicking the button of his own black pants with ease before shifting them down just enough to allow his cock to spring free against your ass. He ground himself wholly bared against you, panting as his hands tugged your hips back, eliciting a mix between a whimper and a moan from your throat. Teeth nipped at your lobe with a quiet reward.
As he continued to rock into you, your hands flew up to grip helplessly at the wall. "I-I don't know what you're talking about, Ryuu—it was just a walk, that's all. Can't I j-just go on a simple stroll?" The innocent plead of your tone would do nothing to make your situation better, but you didn't care in the slightest. You heard the sharp hiss behind your neck and knew he'd taken the bait.
One of Akutagawa's hands shifted from your hip to his cock, gripping it at the base and guiding it between your legs until his tip teased at your awaiting hole. His tight grip on your waist prevented you from pushing back onto him—a purposeful torture. "Just a walk? Of course that's the pathetic excuse you're wishing to use. Then, was it just a walk when you chose to hide your location? When you knew I'd hunt you down like the pathetic prey that you are?" The hand he used to guide his cock moved up, gripping the back of your neck and pushing with considerable force until you were bent sharply at the waist, your hips shifting back against him. The movement forced the head of his weeping dick just barely into you, drawing a moan from your throat.
He was goading you. Ryuu was simply hoping whether you'd be desperate enough to actually admit to such depravity, and—despite wanting so badly to just give in—you shook your head and gave him a weary glance from over your shoulder. You couldn't hide the blazing arousal in your eyes, no matter how much you tried to deny it to his face.
So, ever the genius, you rattled off blamelessly, "I-I only wanted to take a walk in the fresh air."
There was a sharp click of his tongue and his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing and sliding up to your lips. He tapped two fingers against the plush skin there in an insistent order.
"Open up. Since you want to play games, I'll put your mouth to good use." Ryuu wasted no time when you opened your mouth to retort—two fingers slipped in knuckle deep as he ground his leaking cock against you. "Suck. And don't you dare bite, or you'll be left bound and untouched."
Your lips wrapped around his lithe fingers obediently, tongue swirling over and against the skin as your body rocked back to meet his movements. Reaching one of your hands down, you grappled to his remaining hold on your hip and squeezed. He gave a subtle squeeze back in response.
As you both swayed there, his hips rolling forward with a practiced sharpness as his precum adorned your twitching hole, you could feel that ache in your belly growing more and more. You needed more. More of his touch. More of his words. More of him. And by the way he was growing unsteady on his own feet, you could tell Ryuu was just one more touch away from giving it to you.
Once he'd seemingly had enough, he withdrew his finger from the wet cavern of your mouth and he guided them down your body. Had you been any more of sound mind, you'd be embarrassed by the obscene amount of saliva on them as they slipped lower. Slipping his hand between you both, his dribbling fingers teased along the outer edge of your hole. They never went any further than just a teasing push against your entrance.
He wanted you to beg.
"Admit it. You wanted me to have you like this. Admit that you were wishing to be bent before me and devoured." His fingers pressed in just slightly before returning to their circling motions—teasing you relentlessly as he ground himself against your inner thigh. A blade of cloth slithered under your shirt and coat, slowly trailing up along the skin of your belly, against your sternum, and to your chest. It flicked once. Twice. Three times. The tendril suddenly twitched, tightening itself to a small strand as it curled around your nipple. Another blade joined it, giving the same attention to the pert twin on the other side of your chest.
You tried so hard to think clearly, even through all the stimulation. The twisting, the grinding, the touches—it was all becoming far too much, but you had worked too hard for this to just give in now. Instead, you tried to straighten as his remaining hand on your hip squeezed in warning. "Just quit teasing me! It's not my fault you got so paranoid over not having my location."
That certainly hadn't been the answer he'd been looking for, but he already knew that you'd skirt his questioning if it meant a 'punishment'. He wasn't an idiot, after all. Still, Ryuu sneered. The hand on your hip tightened as something was bound snugly around your wrists and pulled them to settle in the curve of your lower back before constricting into an unbreakable grip. Twitches of electricity danced along the skin of your arms as the position allowed him to push you further into the bend—you winced when he pushed a little too much. Without so much a word or sound of knowledge, he let off the pressure just enough to allow you to situate yourself comfortably.
The only gracious reprieve before he hummed and grabbed your hips with both hands. A tendril of Rashomon curled around your neck like a heavy choker of ownership and all was silent for a moment as the strip of living fabric pulsed in time with your heart beat; It squeezed in a frantic pace as if it were mocking you. He really could be such a jerk at times, couldn't he?
You didn't get much time to dwell on such a concern before he was shifting against you. There was a sharp sensation of pain across your shoulder—no doubt a pointed end of his canines—and then the sharp, ghostly whisper of a ragged taunt.
"Paranoid? You tease me and run yourself ragged through the streets for a sliver of attention, and call me paranoid?" He laughs—but the sound is anything but amused. It's cold. Dangerous. And by all accounts, you know exactly what it means. The thought is only confirmed as he pulls his fingers away from your thoroughly slicked hole, instead replacing it once more with his swollen, twitching cock that's beading with precum. Honestly, you're surprised he's lasted this long to begin with.
Ryuu bites at the nape of your neck with a low growl as he shifts his hips against you. "There's no need for me to be paranoid when I know you'll always come running back like the sick slut that you are."
And then, he was pushing in.
Without even a shudder of hesitation, Akutagawa slid deep and allowed himself to settle comfortably in your warm, pulsating walls. The heightened arousal from the hunt and his still teasing binds of Rashomon twisting around your nipples helped that wonderful mix of pain and pleasure, though he was sure to take a moment to allow you to adjust. You both stood there, panting and trembling as your hips practically melded into one another before he pulled back with a ragged breath. And then, he was pushing in at a sharp pace that had you utterly losing any sense of mind you even had left at that point. His hips were dragged in and out of you at a pace bordering on inhuman, his hands tightening around your hips as he panted and hissed. Moans poured endlessly from your lips as he took, and took, and took. Like the beast that fed from its most prized game.
This is exactly what you had been hoping for, is all you could think about as bliss and pleasure spread through every fiber of your being. Your eyes glanced between your legs and you could see the thick liquid of his foamy precum as it ran down your inner thigh.
You heard steps passing by. The ebb of a passing conversation reached your ears and you tensed, which only caused Akutagawa to growl at the sudden tightness. It brought about a semblance of self-awareness of just where you both were—how close you two are to being discovered in such a compromising position. (It was even more arousing, you couldn't lie, but you still had your reservations). He muttered something in the cover of a cough, but you barely heard it as you whined. "R-Ryuu." The sound was more of pleasure than a plead. "C-Can't you at least l-let us get back home?" He wouldn't. And you didn't exactly want him to—maybe you just wanted to hear him scoff at your idiotic-ness.
But he didn't scoff. Instead, he gave a sharp snap of his hips with a dry laugh, another raspy cough threatening to build in his chest before he quelled it.
"If you didn't want to let the city know about your depraved choices," his voice haunted your brain, the hoarse, chilling tone filling your thoughts as deeply as his cock hit inside your tightened walls. Nipping the back of your shoulder, a hand slid down to settle against your lower stomach and pull it up into his thrusts—he chuckled darkly at the feeling of himself through your belly. "Then you shouldn't have played this game—this is all your fault, remember?"
His hand against your lower stomach gave one last squeeze before it settled on your hip. The living cloth around your neck gave a gentle squeeze—a quiet reassurance that he would listen to stop should you give him the word. He was ruthless, but always with your care in mind. You wouldn't give him the word, but you gave an appreciative press back against him with a wanton moan. "You—ah...you didn't have to chase me down. That part w-was all on you. I just wanted a wal—!!"
Ryuunosuke grunted, latching to your shoulder once more with sharp canines as his hips humped helplessly against your own. The shadows swallowed you both as you settled into depraved acts in that dark alley. Binds wrapped around every part of your being, pulling you impossibly closer against his own body as he—in turn—pressed you further against the wall. He pulled you from your bent form and pushed you chest first against the brick as his hips slammed against yours. Allowing the binds around your wrists to fall away, his hands took yours and pressed them beside your head and against the wall, his fingers intertwining with your own as he unlatched from your shoulder.
"Unbelievable," he huffed. "You are utterly impossible. I shouldn't even be entertaining you—such a depraved mutt."
You moaned sharply, eyes fluttering closed as you fought the urge to laugh while simultaneously sinking into the pleasure as you felt yourself draw closer and closer to that all-encompassing edge of ecstasy. "Y-You're the only reason I do it; It's your fault for encouraging it." You panted, setting your head back against his shoulder. He took the chance to assault the newly revealed skin in sharp nips and bites, grunting as he sunk a canine in particularly deep.
"Encouraging? I have told you countless times not to be reckless, but you never listen. It is not me encouraging you, but you stubbornly blazing ahead." His fingers tightened around your own in his grip as he continued to thrust relentlessly against you—he twitched deep and you instantly knew that this wouldn't last for too much longer.
Not a single more word was uttered as he bucked his hips against yours. Skin slapped against skin, and there was no doubt that if anyone else walked by, they'd be able to tell what was happening. The soft hair of his bangs brushed along the back of your neck as he seemed to curl in on you. Desperate, ragged grunts mixing with your own, moaning breaths as he took you with neither gentle touches nor a slow pace.
It was raw, and so believably him that you almost wished you could see his face from this angle. You're sure it would be scrunched, forehead and nose wrinkled with that stone-cold concentration that he seemed to carry so well. Just the thought alone had you tightening down around him (with a weak gasp in reward) as that coil built further and further in your gut. You were so close—so, so close.
Knowing you all too well, the thrusts continue to hit deeper and deeper until he found that beautiful sweet spot that sent stars shooting across your vision like comets in the night sky. It was so fast, you could barely even register what was happening anymore. White, hot ecstaty burned across your skin and a band of black cloth slapped across your lips just as you let out a wailing cry. Ryuu's hands on your hips tightened, his breaths hitching before he finally spilled deep into you with a hoarse hiss. Moments later, his hips stopped flush against you as he panted against your shoulder.
You both stood there, catching your breath, before he eventually retracted Rashomon from your body and allowed it to slink back into the inky black of his coat. One tendril slinked down to grab at your pants and tug them back up your legs. He pulled out just as it tugged your pants snug back around your hips—you tried not to think about the fact you could feel his cum leaking into your underwear.
He hummed, the same tendril supporting you as he pulled you away from the wall and turned you to look at him. The smirk on his face sent chills down your face—that predatory look in his eyes all too familiar.
"You didn't think I was done with you, did you?" He stepped forward, grasping your cheeks in his hand as he leaned forward to hiss in your ear. "This little game is far from over, so if I had one little piece of advice for you to actually heed, it's this—"
Akutagawa whispered lowly against your ear, his hand on your face tightening just slightly before he let go with a dangerous, dark look. You wasted no time in gasping and hurrying for the entrance of the alley, stumbling slightly as you willed your feet to remember how to work. His voice followed behind you—the stone-cold tone sending fear and arousal licking up your spine as you ran down the street. But your wobbly legs drove faster as you caught sound of fabric rustling before it all went silent.
His words echoed in your head, all the same, pushing this game further past a playful test and more into the echoes of a hunter after a prized deer. A whispered phrase that—combined with his sharp, chilling tone—sent playful fear alight in every fiber of your being:
5 Tiny Writing Tips That Aren’t Talked About Enough (but work for me)
These are some lowkey underrated tips I’ve seen floating around writing communities — the kind that don’t get flashy attention but seriously changed how I write.
1. Put “he/she/they” at the start of the sentence less often.
Try switching up your sentence rhythm. Instead of
“She walked to the window,”
try
“The window creaked open under her touch.”
Keeps it fresh and stops the paragraph from sounding like a checklist.
2. Don’t describe everything — describe what matters.
Instead of listing every detail in a room, pick 2–3 objects that say something.
“A half-drunk mug of tea and a knife on the table”
sets a way stronger tone than
“There was a wooden table, two chairs, and a shelf.”
3. Use beats instead of dialogue tags sometimes.
Instead of:
"I'm fine," she said.
Try:
"I'm fine." She wiped her hands on her skirt.
It helps shows emotion, and movement.
4. Write your first draft like no one will ever read it.
No pressure. No perfection. Just vibes. The point of draft one is to exist. Let it be messy and weird — future you will thank you for at least something to edit.
5. When stuck, ask: “What’s the most fun thing that could happen next?”
Not logical. Not realistic. FUN. It doesn’t have to stay — but chasing excitement can blast through writer’s block and give you ideas you actually want to write.
What’s a tip that unexpectedly helped with your writing? Let me know!! 🍒
I swear, I read a few of your posts about Akutagawa headcanons, and it’s unreal how meticulous your writing is. It’s so close to Aku in a crazy way. Ugh, why do amazing writing like this always find me so late? I seriously love your writingyour characterization of him is incredibly good.
Thank you, thank you haha <3 Obsessing over a character can be just as much a blessing as it can be a curse, but I can’t exactly say I’m complaining.
There’s just something about his character that scratches a deep, curious itch in my brain and I still haven’t been able to figure out. Even with past characters that I’ve loved writing for, I don’t think I’ve ever been as invested in them as I have with Akutagawa and it’s a bit terrifying. That said, I’m glad to have been able to capture his likeness so well because sometimes I still feel like I can’t understand him well enough. I’m happy that everyone has been enjoying my writings of him 💜💜
