#or at least make them more ...sensical | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

osamucide · 7 months ago

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FLAVOR PROFILE—afab+gn!reader, angst and comfort??? smoking, alcohol, established friendship, feelings, f!masturbation, loss of virginity, body worship, biting, scratching, tiniest hint of corruption (there should've been more I’m sorry) and possessive aku, praise, fingering, penetration, creampie

ABV—6.1k

BAR OSAMUCIDE IS STRICTLY AN 18+ ESTABLISHMENT. FAILURE TO PROVIDE VALID ID/AGE IN BIO UPON INTERACTING WILL RESULT IN REMOVAL FROM THE PREMISES. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

"Really?"

He can't believe you're laughing at him. You swear you're not—you've sworn twice now. He just sighs and snatches your cigarette from you.

"I just kind of can't believe it, Ryuu," you rationalize, pressing your shoulder against his. "I'm not, I promise. I'm not laughing because it's funny. Just surprised, that's all."

Surprised, sure, alright. Look at me, he wants to spit at you, but he's hacking from holding the smoke in his lungs just a moment too long and so you work the dart from his fingers and tuck it back between your lips as he rights himself.

Akutagawa crosses his arms, not unlike a pouting child, and fixes his eyes on the brick wall across from you both and the one you lean back on as you're sat atop some wooden crate, one long discarded after a weapons shipment or whatever else. He can't help but feel a little small beneath your reaction, but you resume issuing soft kicks to the gravel beneath your feet like it was nothing—like you hadn't just drawn probably one of the most humiliating confessions out of him. He never really gave a second thought to all that before you came around, but now that he's beside you, elbows crossed over his knees as he draws them closer to himself, he suddenly feels like he should've before.

You finish your cigarette in silence, pointedly not moving away from him.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, sincerely as you chuck the butt to the ground in front of you. "Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable." But he still doesn't look at you. Akutagawa's dealing with more than one predicament at the present moment and he needs to sort them before he can turn his attention back to you.

One—he doesn't know if it would've been more or less attractive, or maybe repulsive, if he could've said, yeah, I've fucked plenty of people before, or at least I've fucked someone, and Akutagawa's aware he's a lot of filthy things, but apparently he's neither a liar nor a whore, and it leads him right to his second predicament, which is this: why does he care whether you find him attractive or repulsive?

How long has he care what you think of him at all? And last: what does it mean, that he does?

It's that last one that his thoughts get snagged on.

You tap your foot beneath you. This alleyway is where you always drag him off to when you feel like getting away from work. He can hardly remember the last time he said no to you when it came to escaping Mori's iron rule for an hour or so. But he wishes he would've today, kind of like he wishes he would've skipped the only other time he can recall wishing to have skipped—the day you let him smoke one of your cigarettes.

It's funny how your conversation from that day parallels the exchange from minutes ago. It sticks in his mind right now. You, at least two years younger and having known him on a much more superficial level than you do now, had laughed a little; it makes him feel only marginally better about you laughing now. Even then you were reassuring him, not because it's funny, but just because—I don't know, that's what I do when I’m surprised, I guess. He's always envied your ability to find joy in small things like that, after all.

You didn't make him feel small just now. He finds ways to do that all on his own; he knows that. He must've been weak back then because he'd inhaled less tar than you, and he hated that, so he did it when you offered. But now, here he was. You know he's never even kissed anyone, let alone fucked. The sensical pattern, thinking back to that day when you tapped a cigarette out of your pack for him, lit it off your own, good-naturedly patted his back as the coughs raged out of him because he inhaled it all down way too fast for someone with clean lungs—

Where exactly would that lead now, logically?

It's not like he's never thought about it. But you don't need to know that.

Akutagawa turns his his head away from you, chin on his arms. He can feel his face burn. He won't let you see.

But he knows you now, and you know him. And he knows you'll offer anyway.

You sit in silence, maybe ten minutes more, kicking the ground and letting your eyes flutter open and shut, before you pull another smoke out of your pack and stick it in your mouth.

“Well,” you mumble as your lighter flicks, “If you wanna change that…”

He doesn’t move. He can still feel the crate trembling from how you tap your foot, which is good, because he’s a little restless himself. You draw off your cigarette; he sees the smoke dissipate in his peripheral as your head falls back to rest on the brick. What he doesn’t see is your little half-smirk, but he knows it’s there.

It’s not that Akutagawa doesn’t like you. Anyone that knows him well can probably see he likes you, or at least tolerates you—he lets you drag him here week after week, shift after shift, after all. He gives you grace, even if it’s small, when you fuck up on jobs—something he never gives to anyone else, hardly even Chuuya. He doesn’t flinch or swat you away when you absentmindedly pull him in some direction by his elbow or his wrist; he doesn’t scoff at you when you lean up against him, like you are right now, and shift away from you or push you off like he might even with Gin. To someone who doesn’t know him, he probably looks indifferent to you at worst, and indifference and tolerance, and maybe even liking, tend to go hand-in-hand when it comes to the wielder of Rashoumon. He’s not outright evil to you, and that’s enough—if for no one else, for you. But you know him by now.

And because you know him, you know what he’ll say next.

“No.”

And it’s not because he doesn’t like you, which is why you’ll do what you do next, and he knows you will because he knows you, too, by now—enough to maybe like you—you’ll press him.

“Aw, why not?” It drawls out of you lightheartedly, almost jokingly.

It might have something to do with the fact that you’ve never looked at him with fear, disgust, or hatred in your eyes—not even before you knew one another so well and he would regularly, in response to your antics, threaten to beat you to a pulp with his black beast. It might have something to do with how you seem to look right through him like that, and then inadvertently boost his ego by telling him you think he totally has the capacity to be cool, or even normal, doing things like fucking and smoking cigarettes. He wants to laugh at how silly it all sounds to him. Akutagawa’s never been good at letting himself understand why you make him feel the way you do. Why he deserves your kindness or companionship. Why you can’t see him for what he is: a war machine, configured from birth, far beyond—or maybe beneath—any sort of semblance of a normal destiny that includes indulgence. Love. It would make him respect you less, hate you, maybe, if it wasn’t so secretly pleasant, the fact that you don’t look at him like that. The fact that you seem to think he does deserve something more than misery.

I have a feeling this is gonna be a long partnership, so it’d be a lot more fun if you smoked! You said that the day you were assigned to each other, before you knew about his lung condition, and he knew he shouldn’t have ever accepted your offer that day in this very alleyway because he ended up liking the head high cigarettes gave him, even if it was horrible for him.

The same way he likes you, and it makes him unbearably soft. The same way he’d probably like kissing you. Fucking you. Another thing that’ll kill him one day, one way or another. He knows if he gets any closer than he is, and then for some reason you leave—die, run away, decide your relationship is awkward now and he’s horrible and you hate him, whatever—it’d kill him, undoubtedly. Better not to smoke the cigarette. Better not to fuck the only real friend he thinks he’s had since he was watching his back every moment he lived in the slums. Anything that felt good was almost certainly a trap laid to hurt him.

“Because,” he huffs.

If for sole annoyance or disgust, he would’ve bitched you out. But he doesn’t. You note this. So, you let it go. Because you know him.

“Alright,” you sigh. Not disappointed, not dismissive. Just affirming and understanding. It blows his mind all over again. He doesn't move, doesn't look at you. "Well, I suppose we should get back." Your eyes flick to your wristwatch. "Kouyou wanted us for something in about a half hour."

Some silly meeting in some bar. Chuuya's not there to keep her from getting off topic, so Akutagawa sits beneath the low light (on the edge of the booth, thank god), you next to him, while your superior's ordering another round of whisky sodas for the table.

When Kouyou distributes the drinks, Akutagawa slides his toward you, which you then slide to the man on your other side. His name's Shota—one of Chuuya's subordinates—and he takes it off your hands happily. You nestle your own between your hands on the tabletop.

"But as I was saying," the scarlet-haired woman continues, "it's going to have to happen over the weekend. I don't think it's wise to do anything until Nakahara's back from Tokyo, which will be Friday at the earliest, and the tracking number for the Makarov shipment on its way in got thrown in the trash so Hirotsu's going to have to..."

Akutagawa's gaze trains steadily on your hands; his own are busy, one propping his chin up, the other circling rings over the rim of his first and only glass, now empty. It's not out of the ordinary for him to tune out of Kouyou's tipsy ramblings, especially when Chuuya will be back in a few days to explain the game plan concisely and soberly. What is out of the ordinary is that he's still stiff, thinking about your conversation from the alleyway and the tone in which you so nonchalantly cooed aw, why not? Almost as if you'd been a little disappointed when he said no, he wouldn't take you up on your offer. Were you? He has to doubt it. You've always been a little too eager to get him fucked up on Chuuya's wine, drag him out of work, pull him out of his comfort zone—he'd seen the unmistakable excitement on your face the first time you'd jammed a cigarette between his lips. But that is way too far out of his wheelhouse, and he's pretty sure you both know it.

Even if he does keep thinking about it.

You, well—you sip your second whisky and take note of his fidgeting. Although your drink’s only half gone, you tap your foot against his, glancing between him and the door; he looks at you, then back down at his empty glass, clears his throat and nods ever so subtly. Code exhcange for I'm bored, wanna leave? Of course. So when the conversation lulls, you both stand.

"Kazuha has us at eight-thirty," you explain, bidding everyone good evening and seeing yourselves out the door before anyone has the chance to ask what for.

"Kazuha? That was the best lie you could come up with?"

"Are we still sitting in there or not?" you refute, cigarette dangling from your mouth as you walk with your hands behind your head in the direction of headquarters. "Can't wait to get home."

"Yeah, after your hard day," Akutagawa mutters.

"Hey, watch it," you poke. "I moved shit all morning. Need a shower bad."

Which is exactly what you do after you depart from your partner and scamper up to your apartment. But first you take the liberty of lighting a few candles, cracking your bathroom window for a breeze, dancing around to a little music as a bath full of lavender salts warms, and rubbing out your sore knees with that pain relief oil Higuchi recommended to you. It's true, you did spend all morning getting shipments from the port; the less luxurious side of the life and work of a mafioso moving their way up the ladder isn't something you're unfamiliar with, although you do it less now.

You settle in, sighing. Maybe it's wrong to still be thinking about it, but you had sort of hoped Akutagawa would take to your little quip earlier with at least a hint of curiosity, or bring it up on your walk home even if just to tell you how absurd it was that you'd even think such a thing; perhaps you should've been more deliberate, you think. Or maybe it's a good thing that you weren't. He's one of the last people you'd want to make things weird with—outside of being the (rather oblivious) object of your affection, he's still your coworker and, as of recent years, very best friend. Somewhat of a literal partner in crime. You snicker at that as your shoulders dip below the water. You momentarily debate trying to dismiss your little feelings for the night, and you will, for the most part—but while you're relieving physical tension under the soft flicker of your candles and the hum of the city below you, you figure you might as well dispel your disappointment, too, and you trace your fingers down the curve of your hip to find yourself wet in a way that has nothing to do with the water.

Meanwhile, Akutagawa is pacing his living quarters. He's already taken a cold shower to stave off what has only become more difficult not to think about now that you're gone—he doesn't have to hold it together for you or anyone, and he finds himself trying to sit still on the edge of his bed as his phone sits a few feet away on the nightstand. Should he text you about it? Call you? Fuck that—you do a fine job of flustering him when you're barely trying, but if he let you know—god, if he let you know, he'd never hear the end of it. Text or call you to talk about anything else, even if just to hear your voice and have your presence? No, he has a feeling that would drive him even further up the tree he's chased himself up; he's sitting, tapping his foot like you were earlier when he should've been able to answer you normally, his apartment is dead silent, his dick's half-hard in his sweatpants and he doesn't know what to do.

You probably weren't even serious. If he was smart, he would've jacked off in the shower and called it a night.

But he likes you. More than you realize—more than you can realize, because he's always stone-faced, no-bullshit, hard-ass Akutagawa and he doesn't know how to be anything else, even when you're around and ecouraging him to loosen up. You can't possibly realize how much you've done for him in terms of easing his anxiety over always being good enough, in terms of helping him understand his humanity, in terms of making him feel like a real person.

He suddenly feels like he's on a tightrope of keeping you close and messing it all up, and whichever way he decides to fall will inevitably bring unending frustration that he could've done something different, something better.

And maybe this is an opening. Or a pinnacle that his relationship with you was doomed to come to. Either way, he can't sit in his apartment. Marching forward, like he always does—no matter how hesitantly—he slips his jacket on and shoves his keys in his pocket before he's heading for the elevator.

It's not until he's staring at the interface of buttons that he decides between launching himself to the ground for a long walk along the port or punching in your floor.

And you're so close—your back's arching, your jaw hangs slack, you're spilling water down the side of the tub that pools on the floor, but you'll worry about it later—when you hear manic pounding coming from your hallway. Maybe it's not yours, you think, screwing your eyes shut and working your fingers back and forth in tight circles around your clit because you want it, damn it, but your apartment's so damn big that it's almost impossible to conceive of it being for anyone else.

"One minute!" you shout, rising out of the water with grumbling breath to wrap yourself in a towel and blow all your candles out in one swipe. But whoever it is doesn't hear you, or doesn't care—the harsh knocking pattern booms again, and you almost trip over your pile of discarded work clothes as you fumble out of the bathroom wondering what could possibly be so important, and on account of who, that they had to interrupt your first hour of alone time all day, not to mention when you were so deliciously close to an orgasm you'd been working yourself up to with painstaking care. You'd even edged yourself a little, just because you figured you had time; you would've gotten it over with if you'd have known you were on call, but here you are, unsatisfied and stomping to your door, about to crack it open and take whatever orders were about to be unloaded onto you with a smile and can-do attitude.

You fling the door open.

“What?”

Akutagawa’s fist is still raised to knock. You watch his eyes behind his sunglasses as they flit down to you—you in nothing but a towel—and his face breaks out in a blush you’ve never seen on him before.

If you were any less annoyed, you would’ve smirked.

“Ryuu, what?” you snap again as his hand falls to his side. Whatever it is, if someone needs backup, if it’s urgent, you wish he’d tell you already—it’s so unlike him to stand speechless that you almost want to ask if something else is going on. “Can you spit it out so I know if I should get dressed, please?”

No, he wants to croak out, but you’ll just keep barraging him with questions—all he does is fumble his way inside your apartment with please don’t get dressed on the back of his tongue and that really strange, dazed look behind his glasses. He can't even blame the alcohol from earlier—he only had one, and it's had ample time to wear off.

“Ryuunosuke—”

He freezes where he is, steely eyes locking onto yours, and his voice leaves him, hoarse. “Say that again, please.”

You look at him incredulously, scrunching your towel up beneath your fist that holds it up. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Akutagawa feels small again. This was the wrong decision. He should’ve gone for that walk. He should’ve jerked off in the shower and then went to bed and tossed and turned until he finally fell into an erratic sleep and he should not be here, he should wake up tomorrow morning, sleep-deprived and full of regret but knowing he’s safe because he didn’t go to your apartment to find you in nothing but a towel and he spared your relationship, he didn’t make it weird, and he’d look at you longingly for the rest of however long, only when you weren’t looking just so you’d never know how much agony your stupid little joke from earlier today put him in.

But you’re expecting an answer, and out of all the filthy things Akutagawa is convinced he is, he is not a liar.

His eyes fly to the ground. Your legs, knocking together from the chill of the water droplets that still cling to them.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about earlier,” he forces out. “What you said.”

You hesitate. “What I said…?” Had you said something wrong?

Great, he thinks, mouth falling open. So you weren’t serious.

“You know what, nevermind.” He shouldn’t be here. He goes to push past you, toward your still-open door, but you stop him, shutting the door and pushing a palm against his chest.

“Tell me,” you mean to say, but it sounds more like a question; his pale face flushes again, and you search him with your gaze. He seems to shrink a little more before he sighs and looks to you once more.

“If I wanted to change that I’ve never…”

You wait.

“Kissed.”

You blink, cock your head.

“Or fucked anyone.”

Your hand lets up on his chest, and you find yourself taking a step back—little, but it sends your partner reeling into self-doubt all over again.

“You want…” You speak, quietly, with less urgency than you have thus far. “You wanna fuck me?”

And Akutagawa’s nodding, more frantically than his pride would prefer. But he’s nodding. Not looking at you. Waiting for you to laugh and clap him on the shoulder with a yeah, as if and tell him to go home.

But your fingers slide up to curl along the side of his neck. When his eyes are still downcast, you cup his jaw in your palm.

“Ryuu, look at me.”

Here it comes. The big rejection. He’s ready. He’ll go home and punch a hole in his wall, but he’s ready to hold it together right now.

His eyes drift to yours again, still cold and nervous, like a dog’s when it’s about to bite.

But you smile, trace your thumb along his bottom lip, and whisper.

He has no idea how much you mean what you're saying next.

“I wish you would’ve just led with that.”

It’s like bombs are about to detonate in his brain. He knows what he should do next—he should kiss you, he should throw himself at you and let your tongue between his lips, but part of the reason why he’s here is because he never has, and he trusts you to show him—just what kind of weak has he become, trusting someone with their teeth so close to his throat? It doesn’t matter because he wants it, he just wants you to—

“Show me, please.”

To his displeasure, you don't latch onto him like a hungry animal. Instead, your fingers drift down to his and wind between them; you lead him past the couch to your bedroom, sit him down, and pull your towel a little tighter around you. He wants it off, he wants to see you—even if the thought of sitting naked himself, in front of you, makes his stomach flip, he wants nothing more than to tear the towel away, get to exploring the ways you like to be touched, hear sounds from you he's never heard before.

"Ryuu," you say, one hand on his shoulder. "Be sure you want this."

"I do," he squeaks out, hardly ever having heard his own voice so meek.

"Tell me. Say it."

"I want it," his words follow yours seamlessly, without another thought. He's already established in his mind that he trusts you. But he's still sort of waiting for you to start chuckling and tell him this is a big joke; his hands tremble as you stare, digging for uncertainty, but you don't find any. So as you hold your towel against you, you crawl carefully onto his lap, astride his waist.

And now, he has you. Between his fingers. They find the curve of your waist as you curl an arm around the back of his neck after you work the jacket off from around his shoulders, tear his glasses off, push his soft bangs from his face. Akutagawa looks at you with so much wonder, so much need; you set your weight on him, and you feel him, and his nails grip your ass through the towel.

"Please, don't be gentle," he whispers when your lips hover immediately over his. He can feel your breath, warm and inviting, as the tip of your nose brushes past his.

You smile into his mouth and wrap your other arm around him.

You let the towel fall as you kiss him.

Hot, slow.

And the bombs go off all at once. Before the towel can pool over his hands he's batting it to the floor, scooting back onto your mattress to accomodate you; he wants to shut his eyes but you grind down against him through his pants as your lips mold against his and he’s probably never felt so alert in his life. Akutagawa gasps in a certain way, another sound he's never heard himself make; when your fingers tangle into the hair at the back of his head, he groans, grips your waist, and his eyes melt shut, finally.

You kiss him until he's putty, and he follows your lead; you grab his wrists and guide his hands to your chest, which has his eyes flying open all over again as he feels his fingerpads twitch over your nipples. You work him onto his back, easing him down with your tongue against his, so warm, so wet; your teeth, harsh in his bottom lip, where your thumb stroked so tenderly before, force his hips in a circle, and, oh, god, you have him losing it already, completely helpless, completely breathless.

You pull back, grinning, before grabbing for the buttons on his shirt.

"This okay?"

It's not okay, it's insane. His pants are too tight. He's never needed someone like this. And you look so angelic above him waiting for him to nod, give you a small yes, before you work him out of his shirt next, taking care to trace every ridge and valley of his ribs and abdomen as you do. He shivers when it's gone, discarded with his jacket and glasses; his arms come to cover himself but you trace those, too, the dips in his lean muscle and severities of his shoulders, collarbones, elbows, wrists. Just as he thinks he might feel too vulnerable, you start mapping him out with a softness he's never felt before; he wants to sink into it, keep it forever. If he wasn't so painfully hard, he might not even need to fuck you; just laying, relaxing into the sheets beneath him as you look at him like he's beautiful, is a heaven of its own.

"You're so pretty, Ryuu," you mutter. You hunch to bite the juncture of his throat and shoulder, then soothe it with a kiss. "So, so fucking pretty. You know that?"

Akutagawa shudders again. "I told you not to be gentle."

You bite him once more, grinding your bare cunt along his clothed cock, and a groan throttles from his chest. After doing the same to the opposite side of his neck, your lips meet his again, and he forgets about shielding himself in favor of letting his hands rock you back and forth against him.

You feel him twitch below you as you work him into nothing but impatient breath and swollen lips; your irritation from not reaching your climax earlier doubles back on you in a wave of arousal, and you’re guiding him out of his pants and boxers at the same time, and thank god that’s all that’s left and that you’re so turned on already because when the tip of his pale cock hits his abs, all you can think about is sinking down onto it, feeling it fill you up and pulse inside you.

But you wait, looking at him low-lidded and asking him, “You want me on top, or you?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he curses, twisting a leg into the bend of your knee at his side; you’re not weak by any means, but in one smooth movement he’s got you on your back, pinned down by your wrists. “If you’re going to be gentle, then I won’t.”

Wasting no time. You almost giggle but you’re gasping, his eagerness streamlining into a searing kiss to your mouth and one of his rough hands snaking down to collect the wetness pooling between your thighs.

He knows he should touch you. He knows that much. He wants to know—

“Where? Tell me where,” he growls into your mouth, and you guide him by his wrist and fingers once again to draw tight circles over your clit—ones that make you arch, and after feeling how you do it he burns it into his brain, the movement you’re guiding him through that sends your head lolling onto the pillow. Akutagawa’s eyes widen. He could watch your expression replay for hours.

“That’s it,” you encourage him, breathy, letting him go as he memorizes your rhythm. “Feels so good.”

You bring your two wet fingers up to his mouth, which he accepts without hesitance; his tongue swirls around them and you realize how serious he is—he doesn’t want it slow and you’re losing your resolve against him and you think you need him in you, right now.

He stills when you reach for his cock, dark hair swaying as his gaze trails your hand; he sits back, heaving, as he rubs you, as you stroke him and smear a pathetically large bead of precum across his tip and down his length. Trying desperately not to stop, to keep making you feel good, he throws his head back when you squeeze just beneath the head of his cock and pull him back toward you by his shoulder.

“Wan’ you to fuck me, Ryuu,” you whine, lining him up with your weeping hole. He’s pushing in with hardly a second thought, and, oh—he’s groaning in yet another way he’s never heard before, watching himself disappear into you, bracing himself on your forearms until he fills you up to hilt. So wet, so warm. He hardly realizes how ragged his breath is until he hears your own.

You squirm, and after he presses another series of messy kisses to your lips to stifle the noises of pleasure leaving him that would be so humiliating if he wasn’t so drunk on you, you hold him by his chin and look so deeply into his eyes that he’s afraid for a second you’re doing that thing where you look right through him into his very soul, but your mouth is forming around words that he must hear, he must hang onto, you have to tell him what to do, and you do—

“Don’t be gentle.”

So he isn’t. He moves, on nothing but your words and intuition and the way you clench around him; there’s virtually no resistance when he pulls out, slams back in, pulls out, slams back in—and he loses himself in it so quickly, so noisily.

“Unh—fuck—” Your name leaves his lips like a song that has you linking your ankles behind his back as he writhes, pounds into you—and you understand all over again, he wasn’t kidding. He doesn’t want it slow. And neither do you, you realize, now that he’s dragging his perfect cock along your insides so deliciously.

He realizes something too, as he falls to his elbows and buries his open mouth into your neck; that he never wants anyone else to hear the sounds either of you are making ever again. He doesn't care that you're more experienced than him, or that your relationship is irrevocably changed now that this is happening; you're going to be the first and last person that ever hears him moaning like this, that ever has him blushing from face to chest at the lewd sounds that your bodies emit where they meet and then part each time he pistons in and out of you. You’re clawing at him, raking tracks down his back and biceps that spur him to a pace he didn’t know he was capable of—he can’t wait to see them in the mirror tomorrow when the rawness has left and they’re angry red, a testament to how quickly he’s learning you, how quickly you’re both falling apart, how much he thinks he loves you.

Yeah, he thinks he loves you—it’s muffled by your skin, but he’s saying it, he can’t help it, he can’t keep it in his lungs if he’s going to keep this pace up.

“Love you, Ryuu,” you echo, and he echoes you right back like he didn’t start it.

“Love you.” Thrust. “Love you.” Thrust. “Love you—mmh!”

"My good boy," you croon when he reaches down to touch you, to feel you squeezing him down on him. Your good boy. You could turn him into a whore if you kept saying that.

"My name, please," he breathes, high-pitched, almost wheezing; you hold him as close to your body as you can, shortening his unstoppable thrusts against the spot inside you that makes your toes curl, pushes rhythmic moans from your throat, and his hands are all over you, begging for it in his rough grips that undulate into soft caresses back to harsh nails back to gentle strokes.

"Ryuunosuke—" you choke out, "Don't—" Gasp. "—fucking—" Gasp. "—stop!"

The most gorgeous strand of strained moans, gasps, and growls leave him as his head batters insatiably against your cervix; he’s falling off that tightrope, and you’re catching him, all his shaking fingers and trembling thighs that still momentarily before he can warn you, before he can tell you—

"Cum in me," you sigh as you feel him, feel yourself breaking, coming undone as he forces his sounds down your throat; you swallow them all, crying out against his lips as he bites you, furrows his brow, pulls back to bore into your clouded gaze—he's sure he looks the same if not worse, more unraveled, mouth open, lips wet, when you arch back and pull him flush against you and he's cumming, taking you for every last bit you'll give him until you're hypersensitive, fluttering around him, helping him make a sticky mess beneath the both of you as his head falls forward again, into your shoulder, restless, groaning with aftershock, until his lips meet yours and he kisses you, kisses you, kisses you, neither of you ready to come down yet.

But soon enough you're reduced to exhausted writhing, slow bites, fingers through his hair and he's spent—pleasantly so. Weak, not in the way he feels after he's been brought to his knees by a formidable foe but in a way he will not be content to part with; a comfortable resignation that he could make a home in.

Akutagawa wraps himself around you, and you kick the blanket at your feet up until you can pull it over his shoulders and tuck your nose into his forehead.

"Still kind of don't believe you've never done that before," you think out loud, voice a little absent from how you’ve been sobbing for him.

And Akutagawa finds himself smiling into your skin. He sounds just as much of a wreck. "Never. Not until now."

It was good. Not only was it good, but you can feel him softening inside you, and you want him to stay.

"Meant it, by the way."

Then he looks up at you, quizzically. That strange, dazed look is in his eyes again.

But you just look back at him. Push his bangs back, mirror his tired smile. Wipe the drying sheen of sweat from across his brow.

When it clicks, he's buried in your neck again. Grumbling. "I meant it, too."

You hug yourself impossibly tighter around him, muttering his name, rolling you both to your sides where you cup his face once more, pressing smooches all over him, less heated and more playful, and Akutagawa scrunches his nose as you pepper him and start mumbling in between—

"Love you. Love you. Love you."

He catches you in your tirade and kisses you like you first kissed him—slow, deep. His own love you whispered, almost imperceptible. He'll stay. "Thank you. Love you."

Like he never knew he was capable of loving. He’s not uncomfortable. For once. For real. You caught him when he was falling. He hopes you’ll keep doing it.

But right now, he only has one more question.

"Do you have any cigarettes?"

You reach across him, over to your nightstand. “Who do you think I am?”

My angel, he thinks in response as you nudge the filter between his lips to light it. You, in control, let him puff before you steal it for yourself.

And he’s yours. The Port Mafia’s ferocious Hellhound is your good boy, your angel.

You’ll love him until he believes it.

#csm reference #kinktober? you thought.#vanillatober.#couldn’t help it with him i need to love him til he loves himself #i should’ve picked someone else if i wanted it to be nasty that’s my b you guys #akutagawa smut #akutagawa x reader #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #nnnsfw.ᐟ #kinktober 2024 #with love—reid #mdni

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streets-in-paradise · 7 months ago

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Mercifull - Maximus Decimus Meridius x (Fem)Reader

Gladiator (2000) Oneshot

Warnings: Confession of suicidal thoughts ( reader makes it and he talks her out of it), some age gap ( reader is young lady fan in age of looking for marriage).

Summary: The company of your favorite gladiator is the only bliss your father has been able to obtain for you since the rule of Commodus got you fearing for your lives.

Bought in clandestinity through the aborrecent mechanisms of roman corruption, your one moment to show Maximus thankfullness for the positive impact he had in you becomes your time to present him with a small part of the comfort fate has denied him through his endless sufferings.

Notes: First piece of Gladiator fic I ever written, inspired by the lovely @wildsaltair and an idea that wandered my mind post rewatch. Despite the grim topics in the warnings, I need to clarify it is mostly a comfort fluff

Maximus wasn't counting with more visits at night and the reminder of Lucilla's warnings regarding the depraved customs of wealthy ladies in Rome haunted him when he got the news. He would have yet to receive someone else, fault of his increasing popularity. It was matter of time untill fame would bring that sort of attention to him and he despised it. Forced to be in the presence of the buyer of instants from the misserable life he had yet to live, he would deny them of the one thing they really paid for. Frightening disdain could be enough to make a corrupt rich matron think twice before venturing.

Once he had you face to face, you confused him to no end debunking all previous assumptions. In his eyes you appeared like a portrait of innocence. A polite young lady that smiled for him with shy blush, not the attitude expected for a lascivous woman seeking satisfaction for her wicked desires from a gladiator. Nerves kept you awakardly silent as you advanced towards him and Maximus followed your every move with disconcerted curiosity.

Only after the guard allowed you some privacy, he finally got to hear your voice.

" It's a great honor, … to be in the presence of the most honorable champion … "

You suddenly interrupted yourself, giving him the impression of a previously practiced introductory speech falling due to excitement.

" … I brought you a humble present, just a honey cake. Self made, none of my slaves were involved. Unfortunately, the guards said we can't have it … What is a shame, because I thought something sweet would be comforting for your spirit. "

Adoration of the purest was all you were showing him. If he could have any doubts about what kind of woman you were, it was all confirmed for him.

For the first time since his life was ruined, something amused him enough to throw a few chuckles.

" You shouldn't be here. What would happen with your suitors if the rumour spreads that you frequent champions at night? "

The inmediate, correct implication showing he knew you couldn't be a married woman had slightly shamed you.

" Do you think that troubles me now? A lot has changed since Commodus crowned himself emperor. What used to concern me feels meaningless. Great damage has he inflicted in such brief time! Giving him a lifespan to rule, he will be the downfall of Rome. If the world our people have built may end, I can at least spend a small portion of my family's fortune for a meet with my favorite gladiator. "

Despite presented as sensical reasoning, your comment made him wary for motives that you couldn't possibly predict.

" Did Lucilla send you as last resort to soften my heart? "

You didn't feel called out in any way and replied with increasing honesty.

" I have no business with her, here I am on my own. My desperate father paid hoping our meeting could reanimate the walking corpse his beloved daughter has become. Your performance in the arena awakened her from the letharge and for once she resembled herself again. "

Unsure of what you meant, he tried to disuade you the best he could.

" He wasted it, I have nothing for you. Not even legendary words of comfort you may treasure for the rest of your life. If an infatuation with the shade of myself you saw brought you here, I'll have to warn you there is no life left in me to share. "

The dark warning had a contradictory effect. Probably because of the frustration caused by such terrible start of the encounter with your idol, some of your initial shyness was slowly dissipating.

" My two brothers gave their lives for Rome, only so Commodus would claim mine! " You admitted right away, controlling yourself to not indulge in reckless yelling. " I know, I saw it in his eyes when I had to swear loyalty to him out of fear. My father ... I am all he has left after sickness claimed my mother and war deprived us of my brothers. Commodus will come for me first. Sooner or later, he will. His wicked smile haunts my dreams turned into nightmares. Your company is the last wish of an innocent who fears herself already sentenced. Can't you not grant such small mercy? "

Maximus no longer could show himself detached from your pleads and your strange fascination became more understandable to him. Far from a superficial admiration, you were moved by his claims. Was that the sort of power Lucilla attributed him? Inspiring terrified people and awakening the conciences of those who remained numb of distractions? He was once a general, but it was not his place to be a revolutionary leader.

And yet, he couldn't help to feel intrigued about your story. He was not in the place to reach you any comfort, but could grant the mercy of listening to you. After all, yours was a moving image for him. Youthfull enough to make him suspect you could as well be a beloved daughter and someone else's fiancee. Innocent and kind, sweet and respectfull of a mere slave.

He relaxed his closed fists, then gave only a few steps closer to you to test if you weren't going to retrocede out of any possible fear of pyshical closeness.

" I am not a good companion, a balsam for desperation, but would like to know what made you expect to find that in me. "

You remained in your position, glance turning softer again before you looked at the ceiling as if you would be confessing yourself to both, him and the gods.

When your eyes were back on him you shrugged, making him smile from amusement.

" Everyday I see the masses supporting him I experience the powerlessness of Cassandra as the trojans cheer arround the wooden horse, because she knows the terrible secret it hides. All what's left for her being the repugnant hands of the lesser Ajax, Agamemnon and the axe of his wife. "

Revisiting the first impression he got of you, Maximus found the comparison fitting. Not because of the terrible fate it augured, but because the image of the beautifull princess cursed with awareness suited with your ways.

" Who am I in this? The priest of Neptune doomed to die for sharing your truth? "

He made you chuckle, but you resumed seriousness to insist with your point.

" You exposed the truth nobody wants to hear loud enough for them to stop ignoring it, and in that I found hope. Your ragefull bright could have burned the cursed artifact of Ulysses. Inspired by it I dreamt of outliving this curse falling upon us."

Your will to share was reaching dangerous territory, but you felt so comfortable with him that you didn't mind to make him the keeper of a secret not even your most trusted slaves knew.

" Before I found you, I was inclined to believe my only way to win would be following the path of the egyptian queen. Take my own life on noble, painless terms before he would command for me the most horrible and humilliating of deaths. My only hope, Maximus, was dying celibate. It was your vengefull hunger for survival what inspired me to think otherwise, ... to crave life. And I am here to show my grattitude, because for a brief instant you made me live again."

It baffled him, incapable of conceibing he could have such strong amount of influence from his position as a doomed entertainer. Aside from the scandall he caused revealing himself, his actions had palpable concencuencies in the most unexpected ways. His cursed existence had a meaning for some, a very real and touching effect on them. Thinking it from the perspective of political manipulation, the sister of the emperor forgot to mention it could reach beyond that.

" My life is brief, girl. I may die tomorrow and what would be left for you to look up to? Survive for your father, your loss would weight too heavy in his heart. Become the wife of a fortunate roman and make him proud. A family to look after will give you the purpose you lack. "

His advice induced you into a very obvious, but delicate conclussion.

" They are your purpose, the reason why you haven't given yourself death yet. Only in your memories they remain, and in the day you will perish, the last glimpse of their existence goes with you. "

Tears began to fall down your face and the sight contained his anger to a mention done by a stranger about his massacrated family. For as incredible as it was, you were the very first person willing to join his mourning.

"You are clever to interpret feelings in the way an augur follows divine signs. "

He managed to bring out one more smile in your still tearfull countenance.

" I suppose that saying I am sorry for your loss would come out as a very empty gesture, but if you indulge me, I will do better to reach you a humble expression of the comfort that was cruelly denied to you. "

The distance between you was shortened at every instant by action of your own approach. Before he would dare to object, your arms were trapping him in an intempestive hug. His chained wrists remained still in their position at the sides, restricted his movement by the ties and his suprise. Your sweet embrace was squeezing thight his firm form, head resting on his chest as if you intended to hear his heart beating.

He stayed there, numb to the comfort that the heat of your body and the scent of jasmines in your skin produced him. From the most ironical of places had someone succeded on the impossible task of caughting him out of guard. Not the fighters on the arena, or the emperor of Rome, but a sweet girl and her infinite kindness.

Unable to respond by receiving you in his arms, he placed a chaste kiss on top of your forehead as soon as you tilted your head up searching for his face.

There were no more tears left in you, only the sweetest delight.

" There are certain moments that can worth for a lifetime and I will treasure this as such. "

He smiled against your skin and pressed another peck.

" You will live again, even if I will not be there to see it. You are strong, way stronger than you think. The kindest roman that my new life has put on my way. "

The praise embarassed you and confused you simultaneously.

" What difference can that make against a monster like Commodus? He has no mercy."

" That doesn't mean he is not fond of finding it on others displaying it for him. " He clarified before completing another advice. " Adoration keeps him pleased. Show him just a brief glimpse of what you have done for me and you may disarm him, like you had disarmed me tonight."

Authentical disbelief to the implied confession made you overlook the rest.

" Have I done that? "

" Your arms are still rounding me. " Maximus reminded you with sweet amusement. " Do you think I would have allowed that if you wouldn't had awakened some sort of weakness? "

You released him a inmediately, raising up your hands with an innocent expression.

" I only meant to comfort you, to share the flame of hope you awakened in me. "

" And you did, … but now it's time for you to leave." He thankfully disencouraged you. " The more time you spend, more dangerous it becomes. If his spies haven't followed you, rumours could lead to a similar end. I want you to never show fright in front of him again, but you will if he finds a reason."

The reminder was sensical and you didn't protest against it.

" Thank you for your mercy, Maximus. "

In that he intepreted your acknowledgedment for the emotional closeness you both had reached through the encounter.

" I could only respond to your mercifull ways, good lady. "

#gladiator 2000 #maximus decimus meridius #russell crowe #maximus x reader #russell crowe x reader

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badgalsasuke · 8 months ago

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Continuing the re-read of Naruto Gaiden.

While at first he looks shocked to see Sarada for the first time ever

The rest of the manga he's simply not happy to see her

Like, not in the slightest. You'd think if she was the child Sasuke had with someone he loved and wasn't able to see her due to a very dangerous important mission like SS shippers claim, he'd be happy to see her, a little smile here and there at least.

He's so uncomfortable by his daughter's presence

YIKES

I find very interesting what Kishimoto did here: 1. He had to place Sarada next to Naruto and 2. he had to make sure Naruto was injured and couldn't defend himself to get Sasuke to move and become a shield for them, basically bring back the whole "my body moved on its own" instinct Sasuke has to protect Naruto to then be able to create some sort of father-daughter moment so Sasuke wouldn't look absolutely terrible as a father.

It reminds me a lot of the interview Kishimoto gave years ago about forcing Sasuke to drink the juice he doesn't like, which is basically creating scenarios where Sasuke is forced to interact with certain characters in some way. You can read more about it here

he hates Sakura's guts so bad, like damn not even containing himself for the sake of Sarada.

The difference in Sasuke's reaction when Naruto is stabbed vs when Sakura is sent to a difference dimension.

They really don't give a fuck about Sakura at all, this is so sad.

Mmmmm the hesitation. When Naruto got stabbed and said *four* times it was no big deal Sasuke was still scared shitless for him but when Sakura is kidnapped, he isn't worried (or dgaf) and struggles to talk confidently about her strength as kunoichi. If he was smirking or something it wouldn't feel like he's forcing himself to talk that way, but he still has that uncomfy face he makes whenever Sarada and Sakura are concerned.

Kishimoto really refuses to write an interaction between Sasuke and Sakura where Sasuke shows genuine care for her. Sakura also looks kind of resignated to Sasuke's treatment here.

And this is Sarada's reaction and I cannot really decipher what Kishimoto is going trying to communicate here. It's not really a smile but she's not totally sad either. She looks baffled? Is she, just like the readers, trying to make up where Sasuke and Sakura really stand as a couple? It seems like so to me.

Okay, finally for once he shows some positive emotion towards Sarada and is proud of her strength.

Oh brother, he truly does not give a fuck about Sakura. I also find it an interesting choice that we don't see Sasuke's face when he's talking about his feelings for Sakura.

Don't worry Sarada you're not the first child to come from a loveless marriage, multiple children across the world see themselves in you!

Right here I almost felt like despite not loving Sakura, Sasuke doesn't find it necessary for Sarada to pay for that and that his uncomfortable face has more to do with not knowing his child and not knowing how to act around her rather than some actual misplaced anger against her.

But then Sasuke did this, meaning he has no issues to make false promises to Sarada just like he did to Sakura and just like Itachi did to him. He doesn't feel close to her nor is he interested in strengthening their bond.

Sakura is so pathetic like you cannot even feel bad for her because she herself refuses to stand up.

Some SS shippers interpret Sasuke smirk as him liking to tease Sakura. Now, Sasuke's VA had apparently stated that Sasuke does like to deny Sakura affection as you can see here.

So if that's the case then Sasuke is not denying Sakura a kiss in a playful way as SS imagine (they like to say he doesn't like kissing her in public when Sakura had already implied they've NEVER kissed), but he's rather smirking because he's happy he's on his own again, like he rejected Sakura again plus used the forehead poke on Sarada that symbolizes distancing and false promises, it's a sensical conclusion to me.

And ofc we could not not talk about Studio Pierrot doing damage control of Kishimoto's work. In the family portrait made by Kishimoto Sasuke is the only one that isn't smiling and instead has a hard look on his face which fits his attitude and demeanor during all of Naruto Gaiden, but in the anime they have him smiling and gave him a softer look... Mmmmmmm...

#I do feel bad for Sarada ngl I have a soft spot for kids trapped in their parents' bad marriages #Sakura is just a sad lost case #Kishimoto is also going to hell because there was really no need to put his characters through all this had he done the finale he wanted #but sell outs gonna sell out #anti sasusaku #anti ss #anti sakura #ig?#naruto gaiden re-read

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shitapril · 8 months ago

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very often see posts about how the one direction fans grew up to be formula one fans, and the more I think of it, the more it makes sense. putting aside the fact that almost all my f1 friends were 1d fans (were ? are lol), it makes sense that a fandom who's fuel was hyperfixating on boys living out their dreams shifted from one form of it to another.

tha being said, it got me thinking - how do the girlies translate to f1 ? and by girlies i mean what your kpop fan would call a "bias". for example, if i was a niall girl - who's my favourite now ?

so here's a silly little non-sensical analysis and comparison that should not be taken seriously at all :

firstly, the zayn malik girlies are definitely lewis hamilton girlies. both zayn and lewis come from humble backgrounds, were subject to vile, inhumane racial discrimination and hate - all while being arguably the most talented in their respective fields (I mean, you've heard zayn's high note in you & I, and seen lewis' 7 world championships). they're hardworking, pet-loving, very fashionable men who stay out of unnecessary spotlight for the most part, and step out once in a while to remind the world they're drop-dead gorgeous. the zayn girls are safe with lewis.

next comes liam payne - and here on you'll have to hear me out with my comparison of every racer and bandmate. liam and george russell are both aggressively british, unapologetically goofy and true to themselves (and i'm talking about liam in 1d not the one on logan paul's podcast). they're both very talented, highly regarded in their boss' eyes (toto wolff and simon cowell - this post is going to be interesting wow) and still somehow not an immediate fan favourite. this comparison also goes wonderfully well with the whole ziam and britcedes parallels.

thirdly, louis tomlinson. easy peasy. max verstappen. both incredibly blunt, dry humour, pr nightmares, do not give two single hecks. people either love them, or hate them - no in between. both incredibly talented individuals (louis wrote majority of 1d's discography, max has 3 world championships under his belt) and yet are discredited ("louis is only famous cuz of his bandmates and the band itself" and "max just had a good car"). the zayn and louis fued also parallels abu dhabi 2021 quite well aye ? (i'm going insane)

harry styles, no debate. charles leclerc - regarded as the pretty boys (the prettiest, their fans would insist i'm sure) and the most popular, the well-liked. both extremely talented without a doubt, but a little bit overrated, and victimised to glorify and support fan narratives. i know i sound like a hater - forgive me, not my intention. i like them both as individuals - their fans on the other hand (and no, not all, i know) are so blind-sided, so insane and cause so much unpleasantness on the internet. almost ironic, how the most amicable ones have the least liked fans lol. that aside though, if you were a harry girl, chances are you went from one fan-favourite to the other. i also just realised - this supports the larry and lestappen narratives - am i genuinely, honestly onto something here ? (i absolutely am not)

lastly, niall horan. now this one i'm sure will divide you all, but here you go anyway. lando norris. both babied immensely by their fans and bandmates/teammates alike - churchboy persona. the moment they shed the insecurity, suddenly bam everyone hates them (niall's mofo t-shirts, lando's frat boy tendencies, and saying things that the internet will not find funny), promising at a young age, yet somehow grew up to be called overrated. their fans are stubbornly loyal to them, defending them through all their rights, and wrongs. it makes sense to me. one smiley boy to another.

this probably makes no sense - but feel free to add your own comparisons, theories, and notes ! there's 5 of them and 20 on the grid, obviosuly disparity for me to go on and on and on about (for example, I see a little zayn girls to carlos girls pipeline, louis to fernando - oldest boy syndrome and all that) so let me know ! let's yap :)

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a-man-in-the-crowd · 3 months ago

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A Little Breakdown of the Will Misogyny Scene bc I Keep Laughing About It & Need an Outlet

this scene lives in my head rent-free like holy shit it had me in fucking hysterics 😭 AND LIKE I KNEW IT WAS COMING BC I WAS SCROLLING THROUGH TUMBLR BEFORE I GOT TO IT BUT IT DIDN'T MAKE IT ANY LESS HILARIOUS???

like genuinely there's so much i wanna talk about, it's both a really funny scene and also just like a super interesting scene that gives you a bit of insight into the dynamics of the characters, if that makes sense??

so here i am, going through this scene and 1) just fucking laughing my ass off bc i can never read this scene with a straight face and 2) trying to kinddaaa link it back to some sort of semi-meaningful analysis (though mostly this is just my excuse to ramble about a dumb scene that i am obsessed with for some dumb reason)

warning: non-sensical yapping about a short scene ahead

first of all the set-up to this scene

here, you can see a gay man decide, once and for all, he hates women!

okay but fr the way i see this moment is sorta re-establishing the competitive nature of ada and will's dynamic (at least in this section of the story where ada and monty are dating). obviously, this became apparent in the staircase scene where we see them constantly bickering, but i'd say this is the first we're seeing them genuinely compete for monty's attention/affection.

ada at first gets the 'upper hand' (in reality, neither can really, monty's too out of it to even pretend to give a shit about either of them) by doting on him like a loving girlfriend, tucking him in and everything, and will is just. idk. disgusted by straight people (same, will, same /j). he definitely sees this as ada trying her hand at stealing monty away — and he's kinda right. whether or not she actually is doesn't matter, because this isn't really about monty, except it is?? i'll probably talk more about this some other time, but both ada and will care more about the love that monty is dangling over their heads more than him.

at least, that's my take so far.

anyways, basically this is a game, and ada's just had her turn and she has the advantage of monty being awake. it's will's turn now and he decides to win monty's favour by...

that.

so outside of the very obvious comedy of will very awkwardly and randomly going "women ☕️" (like genuinely i don't think he knows what the fuck he's talking about), something that gets me about this is how CONFUSED monty is. there's a pretty high chance he's confused because of the painkillers in his system, but i'm of the belief that the funnier interpretation is always the better one so...

i like to imagine he's confused for the same reason the audience probably is — that being, will, what the fuck? monty's reaction definitely does have a similar vibe to when will told him he was praying, so i don't think it's a stretch. it'd also confirm that this is a really out of the blue rant for will to go on, something that can be inferred from how awkward and ada-specific his rant is. if he has beliefs that are even slightly similar to what he's saying, he's definitely never expressed them before judging by how nervous he is about it.

though, you know what is in character for will? spewing absolute bullshit, hence why monty's only response is 'sure, will' before going to sleep (that, and the fact he's really tired and barely has any blood in him, seriously it's a surprise he didn't die 😭)

speaking of which. notice how, despite being loopy from the painkillers and blood loss, monty still manages to remember will's name. i can't tell if it's because he's known will longer and therefore is more used to his presence, he cares a bit more for will than he does ada (and there is evidence he gives a tiny bit of a shit about will. though he might for ada as well, we haven't seen much of those two), or that will is a man and therefore worthy of a bit more respect in monty's eyes (something i am NOT ruling out when considering the differences between ada/monty and will/monty). i think it's an interesting detail, though i'm not sure how much it'll get elaborated on.

ada might have the advantage of being monty's most recent fancy (albeit, for reasons definitely related to ada's spectre) but will has the advantage offff... whatever the hell got monty to remember his name of all things

okay so i've already listed my reasons for believing will is spewing bullshit to suck up to monty but i just wanted to pipe in my own personal experience with this sorta behaviour.

i'm trans, right? specifically transmasc and hooolyyy shit did this rant unlock some EMBARRASSING memories of me trying to mimick how i thought men saw women ☠️ he's just like me in the WORST way possible and i can't help but laugh at it he is SUCH a loser

i don't think will is trans, that's not a headcanon i have of him (though i do have that hc for pluto bc well... look at him), but i DO think he's gay (one of the preview images for the locked episodes has him blushing behind monty and i am VERY confident in my idea of what he's blushing for) and at the very least tried to excuse his disinterest in women with shit like this. this is the exact kind of behaviour from a guy who is desperately trying to hide his queerness by being an asshole to women (newsflash, you don't have to hate women to seem more masculine, but will is likely from an older time, i get 1800s vibes though i think 1930s makes a lot of sense too, so i suppose that was never a thought that could've occured to anyone)

i don't think that is specifically the motivator behind this specific rant, in this case he is for sure doing it for monty, but i get the feeling he's pulling this shit from stuff he's maybe said in the past to hide his sexuality

another thing: i touched on this earlier but... most of the stuff will is saying is DEFINITELY directed at ada. i wouldn't be surprised if he's doing this on purpose, using this awkward forced misogyny as cover to insult ada (which isn't out of character, i wanna make a separate post about this but i find that will's 'real' method of meanness is less. outward? then, say, monty's. it's muttered, or condescending, or veiled behind something like what we see in this scene). judging ny ada's expression though, she DEFINITELY catches on.

i firmly believe ada wouldn't have been as aggressive had will not been insulting ada personally

oh yeah, a final little note on this section: anyone else feel like this has the same energy as when you're reading an old book and randomly get flashbanged with misogyny?? like lowkey idk if that was the vibe the creators were going for, but it definitely was giving those vibes. i got immediate flashbacks to when i was reading dracula and at least lime once a chapter they'd mention how mina was too ✨️ womanly ✨️ and ✨️ innocent ✨️ to be involved in the whole vampire situation. except worse bc will is just actively being malicious (which honestly makes this whole scene better, hate the misogyny but love me some will being mean bc it's hilarious every time)

and, how could i forget, the ABSOLUTE HYPOCRISY OF THIS STATEMENT I'M ACTUALLY IN HYSTERICS RN HOLY SHIT WILL 😭 big words coming from a guy whose main job is to copy other people like damn bro projecting much

i didn't mention it earlier bc it was cropped out, but further evidence of will purposely taking this as an opportunity to trash on ada is him looking DIRECTLY AT ADA I'M CACKLING THIS IS GOLD.

but this isn't where the goldmine ends because it all gets topped off by WILL REALIZING MONTY ISN'T AWAKE TO SAVE HIS DUMBASS AND THEN PROSPERO JUST NOPING OUT OF THIS WHOLE DISASTER

will, i love you, i am your number one apologist but... nah bro you did this to yourself you're on your own LMAO

i sincerely hope ada rocked his shit bc that was a hilariously pathetic display and will needs to learn the consequences of his actions (though, i was hoping getting beat by a crowbar would be enough to get it through his skull 😭)

anyways that's all i have to say about this scene for now, i feel like it's pretty easy to tell who my favourite character is. i swear i like the other characters, it's just that will had me in a chokehold the moment he appeared and the fact he has very little lore behind him makes me incredibly desperate for any crumbs i can get ☠️ i have wayyy more to say on will, but like i'd need to organize and gather myself if i actually wanna say anything meaningful

#will nevermore #montresor nevermore #ada nevermore #nevermore webtoon #i desperately want to yap about ada but i have nothing that rlly grabs me despite how much i love her #like her backstory was just revealed but it only rlly confirmed things i was expecting so i'm not sure #i don't have the analytical ability to figure out what time period she's from either i fear #same for pluto #i might try thinking of reasons for my trans pluto hc besides 'vibes' and 'he's just like me fr'#nevermore webcomic

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tactical-jellyfish · 4 months ago

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Watcher 1-1

Part Nine

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (I will cover the symptoms as well as possible, but any and all corrections are welcome) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

There is something special about the barracks room you share with a man named Keegan Russ.

It doesn't lie in the construction, nor in the beds or how they're both unfortunately twin-size with terrible mattresses. It is so special to you because it is the very first space you've peacefully shared with someone you can comfortably admit to trusting.

Sure, temporarily, you're shared a room with Soap. Shortly before the... incident, you'd spent a good chunk of your time with Gaz. Still, you never quite felt like it was yours as much as it was his.

Back then, it had been something purely sensical. Of course the room didn't feel like it was yours, you've been here less than six months. Looking back, that feeling stung a good dose more.

It was a lucky night, in that neither you nor Keegan had suffered a nightmare. That just meant the thing to wake you was his alarm, blaring directly in your ear because Keegan always stole the part of the bed closest to the wall. You always let him have it.

The first thing you do is tiredly grab the bottle of lotion from the small nightstand, and sit yourself on the bed's edge, dispensing just enough into the warped, burned flesh of your palm.

If someone told you four years ago that you'd have to moisturize your stump first thing in the morning because it got dry overnight, you would have given them a really weird look.

Still, it's that motion that draws your favorite American to wakefulness. Every last time.

"Mhhngh, wh- oh."

Most of the time, Keegan just watches you get yourself ready. He'll pass you the compression "sock" that covers the stump that used to be your leg, gently kiss at your neck as you slip on your leg.

He used to talk more, but the quiet is good, too. It's simpler, and you struggle to speak in the mornings. Some complication or other, you're not sure. Smoke inhalation, you remember someone bringing up, in the early days.

Still, you can feel him shift behind you as you grab your prosthetic, and you feel two thick arms wrapping around your waist as he gently pecks your cheek, feels up on one of the few non-marred parts of your body.

"Hello to you too, Keegan."

The chuckle he gives you is worth the strain to your throat, and you can feel his cheeks rounding with a smile against the column of your throat.

There's a grateful hum that quickly turns into a soft grumble of annoyance as you rise on foot and fake limb, the younger still shrouded with blankets and drowsy. You've become accustomed to this.

"Already?"

"Yup."

Keegan groans again, but catches your hand in his own when you offer it, and hauls himself out of bed, rubbing the sleepy crust from the corners of his eyes and reaching to his clothes for the day.

"Thanks, Newton."

Your call sign drives a snort from you, and Keegan smiles when he hears it, though he doesn't react further, and a comfortable silence–broken on occasion by the soft rustling of clothes–settles between these sacred walls.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of course, there are many parts to a morning, Keegan is not the only person you see anymore.

No, you do have people you... tolerate, now.

Maybe tolerate sounds rude. You do like Hesh and Logan, but in the mornings the younger really does test you.

At the very least, Keegan is the one who receives the brunt of that energy, as Hesh passes you the coffee.

"Real sweet, David, thank you."

The way the corners of his lips twitch up is enough to make you smile, too, and lean forward enough to press a little peck to his cheek.

It's always good to make sure everyone's in order before travel. You learned that from Sarah, and she'd hate to see you not living up to that.

Granted, she'll only be on the other side of the pond for another few hours, at the very most.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe the only person you can admit to missing from your old task force is Nikolai.

The big Russian is someone you were only granted the honor of meeting once or twice, but he'd also never been a person that's entirely defied everything you were supposed to know about them.

Your last text from Nikolai isn't a scalding "fuck you". No, that's Soap. Bitch.

The slightly angered reverie is broken by Logan, with a strong, slightly knobby hand on your shoulder. Just a short tap, to bring you back into it.

You'll give him the credit, he knows how to handle people. Sometimes even Keegan misses a slip that's quiet like that.

"I'm here, kid."

He offers a lopsided smile at the curt response, goading you into giving him just a little more, Newton, c'mon. You humor him, this time.

"Thank you, Sergeant Walker, I commend your work for this team's morale."

You can't believe you ever used to confuse the brothers, when you watch Logan beam and puff his chest up a little at the lightest praise. Youngest child, to the very end of the line.

His mother must have been a hell of a woman, if Hesh was right about Logan being just like she used to be.

That tender thought must make you smile just a bit too wide, because he leans forward, and taps you on your nose.

"Told you I would get you to smile by the end of my first year."

"That-" He's pulling you into his traps, you almost said it didn't count. Why in god's name does Logan do to make everyone horse around like school-kids? No rational team would take this seriously "Fine, you win, Walker. Enjoy it."

He does, right up until the copper starts to land. This time, on British soil.

Your thanks are met with a phrase you can't quite parse, but you give the pilot a firm nod anyway.

Today's been good to you, even if the change in pressure has caused the phantom pain to spike. You take a moment longer to savor it before the second shoe drops.

Keegan's right there behind you, one more time, pressing his masked face into your neck so you know precisely who it is.

"You know we'll all have you, right?"

You take a second to take a breath, hand settled on the door of the helicopter, still hesitating just a little.

"Affirmative."

The second thing he says comes in a whisper, intended for only your ears, from your very favorite nurse. Your person.

"They like you just like I do. Everyone's got you, and I love you."

Those words used to make you cry. This time, they make you nod, and push the door open.

"Good choice of words, Russ. We can discuss that later."

There will be no discussion that happens later. It will be much closer to an act of fraternization, and you both know this. You know he knows this because Keegan's bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

Still, your foot hits the floor, narrowly followed the running blade, and you give the men before you a deeply unimpressed look.

"Hello, Task Force 141."

Is it a purposeful disrespect to not greet your former captain by his name? They can't prove that.

Still, unless you've forgotten to count, there's one more soldier than there used to be.

"...And company. I didn't think you'd find new... backup so soon."

You hide nothing. Not as you look at who must undoubtedly be your replacement. Masculine-presenting, masked and he's... glued two little wires to his helmet.

What a fucking joke. They almost did you a favor by transferring you out, really.

"Firecracker?-"

Johnny is cut off firmly by you before he can finish, a tone that almost borders on reprimand.

"My callsign is Newton, MacTavish. I don't use anything unapproved."

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#keegan russ #keegan russ x reader #x reader #tf 141 x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #angst #x gn reader #laswell cod #kate laswell #implied neurodivergent reader #david hesh walker #logan walker #logan walker x reader #David “hesh” walker x reader

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ganondoodle · 5 months ago

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i might have already talked about this but i honestly cant remember if i did or if its one of my totk thoughts that keep haunting me in my head (and god knows how id find it on tumblr)

.. did they ever say how long link was gone for? like at the start? bc to me it feels like it must have been months or something given how some things are .. although others are the opposite

like the spypost alone is so weird to me, its a goddamn stupid place to put it, a SPYpost should either be concealed or in a hard to reach place with good look of the environment around it- which it doesnt have at all (despite higher up hills being right around the corner ...), who would put a spy post directly on flat ground at the castle doors?? (AND in a place where i think would have been the ONLY good place to put nothing there/dont change it- or have it bee a secret entrance into the castle you can find on your own .. if the castle was actually like a dungeon and inaccessible for the most time ...) makes even less sense if it was built before link disappeared bc wh- .. whats its purpose anyway? the calamity is gone and instead of rebuilding castle town or soemthing nearby you put the words least sensical spypost right at the front of the castle thats a dead dirty lump of rock (yes i know zelda mentions soemthing of the miasma being active or whatever but that changes nothing abotu how little sense thing darn thing makes to me .. ) (i will stand by my idea of rebuilding the ranch ruins into a little hub and tavern instead, a spypost can be a smaller thing higher up but that as a little new town and maybe with my personal little wish of having all your horses run around a ranch, of course its got little defense, this is a ranch and the calamity was gone and its not that close to the castle, its also rather in the middle of the map and a bigger wider area would be hard to miss, plus its using an old neat reference and making something meaningful out of it, soemthing this game is allergic to im- *breathes in* fine.)

death mountain, i assumed at least, cooled down with the cataclysm (.. way too serious sounding for .. largely just some pebbles falling from the sky) and it seems like theres alot of stuff built on there and even grass growing and everything, like its been that way for a long time, yunobo being dumbified by brainwash mask and the things he does also dont feel like they happen in a day or two

the other regions on the other hand ... ignoring how mcuh of a non issue the rito problem is (the oooooh blizzard doesnt even stop them from flying ..... its not freezing them either bc none of them wear any more clothes and just do business as usual .. but then food is supposed to be a problem? .... you .. you can fly ..... ... why wasnt the boss then a monster that eats everything of the region or soemthing ... a big ol worm razing entire forest, or .. you know, make the blizzard an actual problem, winds so strong you cant fly, temperature so low you freeze immediately without special armor), are just .. dealing with it themselves? and dont seem to even seek out the help of anyone else? like it literally just happend?

but then theres entire sonau research teams and people studying it but .. all the shit started to appear with the cataclysm ... so???? though zelda at the start talks about it like its been a well known every day life fact that the acnient stupid furry first king of gods holy lands was called rauru and he was a sonau (WHICH NO ONE KNEW ANYTHIGN ABOUT THE LITERAL ONYL THING KNOWN WAS THE ARMOR SET IN BOTW THAT ALSO DOESNT MATCH ANYTHING AT ALL TOTK SONAU) and his fridge wife was sonia like its just written in every history book and still somehow accurate (might i remind you its been MORE than TEN THOUSAND YEARS sicne then and nothign was known of them in botw) while no one remembers link from a 100 years ago, nor from 6 years ago, but then remembered the champions for the 100 year botw gap and then promptly forgot about them in totk (it really feels like that) BUT THEN you got kids in school that dont fking believe the calamity happend (which was defeated just like 6 years before that)

then again .... theres not a single soul on the sky islands, despite there, NOW more than ever, multiple ways to get up there, are you telling me everyones obsessed with the stupid sonau shit and then no one even tries to go up there??? arguing that it wasnt accessible until noodle zelda broke through the clouds at the end of the tutorial doesnt work bc those ruins already fell down, people must have known and no one even tried?? also they can go up there after it go opened up?? plus clearly the ruins were able to fall through also ... what even determines whether an island falls down or not? why do some fall when tHe dEmON kInG wakes up? you see it with those green sonau magic stuff but like .... who ... did that, both rauru and mineru were dead when zelda noodlefied herself and there everything was STILL on the ground? the only magical thing the constructs do is use fuse sometimes i dont think they can lift up all that shit .. clearly is wasnt rauru either bc he acts surprised about it being up here, but why does it falter when big il ganon man wakes up? mineru after the weird static non battle with ganondorf wasnt doing so hot and we have no idea how much time passed between that and the moment she goes into the purah pad (i could be annoying about that as well) either

in taburasa (tarrey town) they do all that shit with the sonau stuff, implying theres enough time that passed to make people tinker with it too so ?(though i still hate that bc its so .. shouldnt you of all people be scared of more techy bs materializing when the whole calamity is like back almost exactly like it was before? not even suspicious? no? you dont even know how it works yet everyone trying to work with it like there isnt anythign better to do??)

like with everything in this game it keeps contradicting itself, the inconsistency makes me want to rip my hair out anytime i try to make sense of it

#ganondoodles talks #ganondoodles rants #zelda #totk critical #..... okay the totk rants are back #................i really should just write the script instead of waiting for the darn book #ah yes in case you didnt know- im a totk hater and ranter and yes i still hate it with every fiber of my being #i dont quite remember everything bc i #well i havent touched the thing since two weeks after release and i dont own it anymore

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divine-knight-hand · 2 years ago

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Now, You’re Mine

Loki Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Summary: A competitive sparring session leads to spicy times with Loki.

Content Warnings: Little bits of fluff, Loki does a fair amount of mind reading, Soft Dom!Loki, Sub!Reader, oral (f. receiving), p in v (missionary), unprotected sex, a touch of cockwarming, and explicit consent

Notes: I originally wrote this for sarahscribbles’s Birthday Celebration before I went in a completely different direction and decided to write and contribute Worshiping the Masterpiece instead. Even though this didn’t end up as my official contribution, I figured I’d still finish it and post it for you all.

It was honestly a little daunting. This was definitely a difficult write for me, and there were times where I thought I wouldn’t finish it. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy what I came up with!

Since this was originally for the Birthday Celebration, I had used some of the listed prompts for this work. The prompt that sparked the writing of this was "Is that a threat or a promise?", but I also snuck in the fluff prompt “Are you really so oblivious?”. What can I say? I’m an overachiever in all things where writing is concerned. Hehehe!

Word Count: 3,781

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Umph!” With a flick of his wrist, Loki sent me tumbling to the floor once again.

Once every week, Loki and I sparred in the training room of the tower so I could practice fighting more powerful opponents. I figured that I would eventually sharpen my skills and prove useful on more intense missions. Unfortunately, I typically did more falling on my own ass than actual sparring, so I haven’t improved much since we first started.

Against my better judgment, I slammed my fists on the padded floor. “Son of a bitch!”

“Is that frustration I sense, agent?” Loki stood across the room from me, clearly entertained by my lack of temper. He didn’t even break a sweat, seeing as he barely had to move a muscle to defeat me. He just stood there, folding his arms behind his back as the corner of his mouth twitched upward in amusement.

I heavily sighed and slowly rose back to my feet. “No, no. I’m fine.” I dusted off my behind as I returned to where I stood right before getting knocked off my feet. “Let’s just start from the beginning… again.”

“How do you not tire of repeatedly falling before me?” He began to close the gap between us in large strides. “Though I find it rather amusing, I can’t help but wonder why you remain so persistent in the face of failure.” He stopped a few feet away from me. Too close and too far at the same time.

I scoffed. “You can condescend to me all you like, but I don’t plan on quitting until I at least manage to reach you.”

That was when it hit me. I hadn’t given much thought to my battle plan. I haven’t had the time before being thrown off balance every time. What exactly would I have done if I managed to reach him? How could I best someone who towered over me, even as I stood upright? Would I sweep him off his feet? Would I aim an attack at his perfectly chiseled face to disorient him? Would I wrap my arms around him and fall into the feel of his body against mine, desperate to never let go? Or would I just be too drunk on the air around him to even make it all the way, stuck in the stupor of my own attraction?

Get a grip! I chided myself. This is Loki, you’re thinking about! Do you honestly think he would feel the same way about you? He’s a god, for crying out loud! But I knew that. I was drawn to the danger of that feeling like a moth to a flame. There was nothing sensical about the way I felt for him, but regardless of how risky my feelings were for him, I would indulge in them.

“Condescend to you?” Loki held a hand over his heart in a show of mock hurt. “I would never. Honestly, the way you fell to the floor just now was truly remarkable. The Avengers are lucky to have you.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I enunciated each dry laugh. “Very funny. Now, are we talking or training?”

Loki was unmoving, instead staring at me with an intensity that made me wonder if he could see straight through me. “You seem eager to return to our little session. Why is that?”

Wow! He’s intuitive. I thought, anxiety buzzing under my skin. But there’s no way I can answer that.

And why not? I jumped at the sound of Loki’s voice in my mind.

Too surprised to muster my own voice to speak, I formed the words in my mind. Loki? Are you in my head right now?

No, agent. I could hear him chuckle aloud as he responded. I’m right in front of you.

I physically shuddered. That is so creepy…

It’s natural to fear what you don’t understand. He raised his eyebrows at me.

“Can you cut that out?” I finally spoke up, shaking my head as if I could shake him out. “I don’t appreciate these mind games.” Nor did I appreciate the possibility that he could have heard me mentally rambling about how he truly made me feel. The thought of him having access to the secret I worked so hard to keep from him made me nauseous, so I focused on the part of me that was annoyed.

“I appear to have struck a nerve.” Loki commented matter-of-factly. “How odd. That wasn’t even my intention.”

Damnit! I thought. Why is he so good at pissing me off?

I appreciate your acknowledgment of my prowess, agent. Loki’s voice sounded in my head again. But, as I’ve said, my goal isn’t to infuriate you. I’m truly curious as to why you’re so passionate about our sessions.

“Ugh!” I threw my hands in the air. “Fine, we don’t have to spar if you’re going to ask a million questions. Just forget it. I’m done.” I turned away and began to storm off, eager to get away from the situation, and pausing only to call back, “And stop doing that talking-to-me-in-my-mind thing! It’s extremely invasive!” before continuing away.

I only took a few more steps before freezing again at the sound of Loki’s voice. “What exactly are you chasing, agent?”

Even as I faced away, standing across the room from him, I felt cornered. “What do you mean?”

“Our weekly arrangement seems to matter to you so much.” He began again. “Anyone would walk away in utter surrender after being so easily defeated the first few times. You differ. There’s a spark in your eye, and though it flickers and threatens to fade, it doesn’t extinguish. Why is that? What are you seeking to gain from facing off with me every week? What are you chasing?”

That was it. I had nowhere to run. I was completely vulnerable. I couldn’t get out of this situation without at least explaining myself to him. I just wouldn’t reveal too much.

I turned back to him, giving myself time to steel my nerves before responding. “My potential.” He cocked his head in curiosity, prompting me to continue. “Lately at work I felt… stuck.” I slowly began to make my way back over to him. “I know I can still improve, so I figured that sparring with you would make me stronger. But, now I just feel stuck fighting with you. I mean, I couldn’t even land a single hit on you. At all. I couldn’t even reach you!”

I stopped a few feet away from him and looked down at my feet in shame. “So, yes, I am a little frustrated that I’m not improving. I can’t help but feel like I’m on my way to being a failure.”

I suddenly saw a familiar pair of leather boots settle in front of my tattered sneakers before Loki tilted my chin up to face him. “I’ll hear none of that. You are not a failure. Far from it.”

My heart leapt up to my throat. Our faces were mere inches apart. Loki’s bright blue eyes kept mine glued to them like those of a hypnotizing serpent. I could almost feel our breaths intermingle between our mouths. His raven hair fell forward ever so slightly to frame his angular face as he tilted it down to focus on mine. For the first time, I saw Loki wear an expression of concern, and it was for me.

When I didn’t immediately respond, he continued, “You are more formidable than you know, agent. I never anticipated your persistence to be so drawn out, but as long as you believe you can grow, then it shall be. I will admit, I haven’t been very fair to your pursuits. Do forgive my hindering of your goals. I simply didn’t wish to let you go once you felt satisfied with what resulted from our sessions.”

My voice wavered more than I would have liked it to. “I- I don’t understand…”

“The only reason you felt stuck here was simply because I made it so.” Loki explained. “I knew that once you received the training you were working toward, you wouldn’t require my assistance anymore.”

“So, you weren’t just trying to make me look stupid?” I was genuinely surprised, especially considering the smile that graced his lips each time I hit the floor. I thought he enjoyed seeing me make a fool out of myself. I didn’t exactly hate the idea, either, if it meant I got the chance to see him smile down at me.

“Gods no!” His lips slowly spread into a grin. “Although seeing that little vein in your temple pop each time you grew agitated was quite amusing, that wasn’t my intention at all.”

“Jerk.” I breathlessly laughed, still struggling to keep my composure. I gulped, feeling his hand still on my chin. Sparks ignited under my skin where he touched me. I wanted him more and more with each passing second.

“I simply couldn’t resist.” Loki chuckled. “There’s something rather endearing within your vexation.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” I dryly laughed again. “But, besides you enjoying my annoyance… Why did you want me around so much? You put in a lot of effort just to keep me here.”

His voice lowered as his gaze grew intense. “Are you really so oblivious?”

My breath hitched as he seemed to grow closer to me, despite having not moved an inch. “I- I- I-”

“Darling,” He cut off my useless stuttering. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to ensure you remain by my side. Your presence is invaluable to me.”

Is this really happening? I felt myself growing redder by the second. I couldn’t believe it. Was this Loki’s way of telling me that he loved me?

Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided that making my own confession would help me know for sure. “Loki… I feel the same way. That’s why I asked you specifically for help. I did really want help, but I also wanted to see you more often. Work doesn’t really let us cross paths as much as it used to. Now that I know what it’s like to exist with you, I can’t imagine a life without you.”

His lip twitched up into another smile. “I’m glad we can agree.”

Then, he leaned in and kissed me. It was a short and sweet kiss, but once I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, he deepened the kiss, slipping his dexterous tongue into my eager mouth. Oh my god! Pinch me, I must be dreaming.

No, darling. Loki’s voice sounded in my mind, and I happily welcomed it this time. This is as real as you are.

I felt my stomach flutter with excitement. This was real! I loved him and he loved me. I was so excited, I gained enough confidence to slide my hands into his hair, holding his face to mine. I felt that if he let me go, I would have nothing left to anchor my soul to my body. I willed our kiss to last as long as possible.

When we finally broke for air, I breathlessly giggled. “I guess it’s safe to say we don’t need to spar to spend time with each other anymore.”

“Oh, my darling pet.” He purred, sending a tremor down my spine. “I don’t need a training session to indulge in the luxury of seeing you fall before me.”

I instantly felt arousal pooling between my thighs at his comment. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“It’s a guarantee.” He growled before effortlessly sweeping me off my feet—no magic required—and speeding out of the training room with me in his arms. I lightly giggled all the way, allowing myself to fall into in the feel of his touch and the mischievous glint in his eyes.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

We practically crashed through the door of his bedroom as we were locked in a mess of kissing and touching. We stumbled into the room as Loki just barely managed to slam the door behind him. He finally pulled me away from him and tossed me onto his bed. I fell onto my back with a very unflattering “Umph!” before propping myself up on my forearms to look back at him.

“There you are.” His mouth curved up into a sly smirk. “Fallen before me, just as I knew you would be.” I felt the beating of my heart quicken at his words.

There was something new about the look in his eyes. Something ravenous. His hair was ruffled from the way I ran my hands in it as we kissed, and his pupils were blown with lust, just barely rimmed by the usual electric blue color of his eyes.

“I must have you now.” His voice grew husky as he spoke to me. “Are you willing to give yourself to me tonight?”

“Loki,” My words were just barely over a whisper. “I’m willing to give myself to you, always.”

Then, a charged silence hung between us, and I felt Loki’s eyes possessively scour over my body. My skin was aflame and I felt my panties growing wet with my dripping arousal as the time passed.

I silently looked him over as well, my eyes trailing down his sharp cheekbones and jawline, and the leather draped over his towering frame, before freezing at the monstrous bulge forming between his legs. I mindlessly spread my own at the sight of it.

“You look absolutely ravishing, darling.” He finally broke the silence. “I can tell you hunger for me the same way I do for you. Let’s not waste another minute, hm?”

“Yes,” I breathlessly whispered. “Please.”

“Begging already?” Loki’s mouth cracked into a mischievous grin. “I’ve barely touched you, my dear.” He let out a low playful chuckle before he leaned in to push me back down onto his bed.

We kissed again, and even as my eyes were closed, I could see the green flash of Loki’s seidr before I felt a fresh draft over my body. He pulled away, and I opened my eyes to see that he was equally bare. My breath hitched as my eyes traveled down his body, taking in each inch of his beautifully toned figure. Between us, hung his large, throbbing cock. I wanted to reach out and trace each bulging vein with my fingers.

I let out the breath I forgot I was holding as my gaze returned to Loki’s eyes. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Oh, darling~” Loki purred before trailing kisses down my neck and breasts.

“Mmm, Loki,” I sighed. “I want you so badly.”

He settled between my legs with a devilish grin, propping them up on his shoulders. “Oh, how it excites me to hear you say that.” He began trailing kisses up my inner thigh. “You’re already so wet for me… Mmm, I can’t wait to taste you.” He lightly nipped my inner thigh, eliciting a small yelp from me before teasing his tongue at my entrance. “How divine~” His last words were a soft whisper against my cunt. I almost didn’t hear them. Almost.

I let out a soft moan as Loki continued to tease me. “Mmm, Loki… Please… More…”

“More?” He playfully tutted. “We’re needy tonight, aren’t we?”

“Only for you~” I mewled.

A deep growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “It would do you well to remember that.”

He licked an agonizingly slow stripe up my dripping cunt before deepening the work of his tongue, adding his fingers to circle my clit as he did.

“Ah- Loki! Mmm…” My back arched, and I resisted the urge to grind against the friction he was giving me. “Yes- Ohhh, that feels so good…” The transition from a little stimulation to a lot almost made me dizzy. I could have gotten drunk on that feeling.

Loki just hummed in satisfaction as he tightly gripped my hip with his free hand. I knew his fingers would bruise my skin, but I didn’t care. I was focused on the pressure mounting in my core, and how rapidly I was hurtling towards my peak. Bruises and body aches would be a tomorrow problem.

I gripped the sheets beneath me, trying to find something to anchor me to the moment as my quickly approaching finish threatened to carry me away from this plane of existence. As it would turn out, my anchor wasn’t the feel of the sheets between my fingers. It was the sight of Loki’s head bobbing between my thighs as he greedily ate me out, accompanied by the lewd slurping sounds that emanated from the act.

“Loki…” I all but squeaked. “Getting- Ah! C- close…”

He gave my hip an affectionate squeeze, keeping his pace on my aching cunt. Just a moment later, my eyes rolled back, and I came with a moan that nearly rattled the bedroom walls.

Loki slowed, but never stopped, helping me ride out my high before finally coming up to wipe his face on the back of his hand. My legs tingled as they slid off of his shoulders, and I could barely feel them as he climbed back to face-level with me.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment, pet.” He lifted a hand to cup my cheek as he kissed me, and I could taste myself on his tongue. While we kissed, he dragged the length of his throbbing cock between my folds.

When we broke for air, a string of saliva momentarily connecting our mouths, I was left panting. “Loki, please, I need you inside me.”

“Is that so?” He began to slowly stroke his length as he lined himself up with my entrance. “Tell me how much you need me. I want to hear it from you.”

“Loki, I-” I instinctively bucked my hips, desperate for more friction, as his tip teased my folds. “Please… Please, I need you so much. Ah- I’ve been dying for you!”

He pulled me into another kiss, our mouths crashing together as he finally began to slide inside. We moaned into each other’s mouths, and my hands found their way to his back. When I bucked my hips, he tightly gripped them, stopping me from rushing into bottoming out.

I was wet enough for him to slide in easily, but the excruciatingly slow pace he took nearly brought me to tears of frustration. He finally bottomed out, and I felt my walls clench around him as the full sensation registered in my core.

He pulled away from our kiss, cheeks glowing pink under a light sheen of sweat. “Mmm, you take me so well.” I felt my cheeks lightly blush at his praise. “Are you ready, love?”

“More than ready.” I breathed. I wasn’t sure how I was managing to speak as pleasure seemed to be slowly taking over each of my senses.

Loki buried his face in my neck, softly groaning as he began to trail kisses down my neck. “You are more formidable than you know, agent.” He sucked on the sweet spot on my neck, leaving another mark on my body before continuing. “You managed to penetrate the innermost walls of a god’s heart.” His voice was laced with both the most innocent love and filthy seduction. “Now, I shall never have my fill of you, but I will always return to you for more.”

He slowly slid out of me, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of me before ramming his hips back into mine, setting a brutal pace. I let out a loud moan, my voice clipping with each snap of his hips as my back arched off of the bed.

In response to his beautiful declaration, I could only manage to speak one word. “Pr- Promise?”

Loki dragged his warm tongue up my face, stopping by my ear to murmur. “I guarantee it.” The brush of his lips against my ear sent a shiver down my spine, adding to the immense amounts of pleasure I was experiencing.

I squeezed my eyes shut and raked my fingernails down his back, earning a deep growl from the god on top of me.

“How could you be the death of me- Mmm… and my whole life- Ah- at the same time?” I hesitantly opened my eyes to see Loki’s wildly looking into mine.

His hair dropped to surround both of our faces in dark curtains. Loki was all I could see, all I could smell, and all I could feel. The fire burning under my skin served, not as a distraction, but a reminder of the sensations he was able to create in me. As his calculated thrusts grew just the littlest bit sloppy, I could tell he was getting close, and that fact only brought me to my own peak faster.

“Loki…” I whimpered, struggling to voice my warning.

“I know, darling.” He breathed. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Suddenly, I was seeing white as Loki helped me ride out my second orgasm of the night. As the waves of pleasure coursed through me, I was faintly aware of his cock twitching as its seed spilled inside me. We both let out moans that bordered on screams before coming down from our shared high.

As we both took a moment to catch our breaths, I wrapped my arms around Loki, holding his body against mine. I could feel him still inside me, our combined spent slowly dripping out, and I didn’t want him to move just yet.

“Mmm, darling…” Loki hummed as he buried his face in my neck. “You’re truly remarkable.”

I breathlessly chuckled. “You flatter me with that silver tongue of yours.”

“Really?” I felt Loki’s impish smile as it formed against my neck. “I seem to recall doing something else with it merely moments ago.”

“Alright, alright.” I couldn’t help smiling at his filthy comment. “I’ll give you that one.”

“Allow me to clean you up.” He offered.

Before I could form the words to protest anything that involved me having to move apart from him, he waved his hand, and his seidr once again bathed us in green light.

Rather than the sweat we worked up in bed, we smelled like fresh lavender soap. Though Loki’s cock was still inside me, I no longer felt our cum dripping out.

“Wow,” I reached up and gave his head an appreciative scratch. “You’re just full of surprises.”

Loki just hummed in content, softly kissing my neck until I found it difficult to keep my eyes open. Just before I fell to the lull of sleep, I heard his voice, low and sultry, in my mind.

Now, you’re mine.

#loki laufeyson #smut #marvel #marvel fanfic #loki fanfic #loki #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x female reader smut #marvel smut #loki mcu #mcu loki #mcu fanfiction #loki fic #loki smut #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #smut fanfiction #fem reader

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neon-virus · 11 months ago

Text

Now ramble shall be under the cut since this also touches on stuff that will be relevant for my fic so, spoilers maybe?? (Also i am no expert in making stuff sensical, so this is mostly shiet ive slapped together thats sitting in my brain)

also excuse any errors, english is hard :D

SO! the crowns.

I've made a lil sketch comic about Shamura and Nari talking briefly and Shamura referring to them as 'beasts'. I like to think that's what they are, parasitic like beasts.

They require strong willpower to withstand their influence. The crowns cannot do anything without someone to wield them, but if that person cannot resist the influence the crowns exert, then they will start to lose themselves to the crown.

The process depends. If the person is of weak mind, then they could become instantly consumed by it the moment it touches their brow. They would no longer be who they once were as the crown infects them in entirety and claims them for its own, eating their essence and making them effectively a shell for its own control.

Of course, these 'bodies' can still die, and once the crown no longer has its host, it becomes inactive.

But if you have a strong will, it comes down to a fierce endurance match, where the crown will try its damnest to break past your mental walls, to weasel its way in until you either give up or the crown submits.

Once submitted, it will effectively be 'inactive' in trying to influence the host, becoming a tool to be used and melded to its host's will. However, suppose that the host falls into a low point or has a grave vulnerability. In that case, the crowns will become active again, seeing their host is becoming weak and thus a perfect opportunity to influence and gain control.

For the bishops, this wasn't much of a problem outside of the initial wearing, at least until Nari started to question. Although Narinder is a very strong-willed person, the red crown still whispers to him, influencing his thoughts in the background and encouraging him until he ends up in his predicament of being imprisoned and leaving the bishops injured and vulnerable themselves.

Though the crowns can be given to others in smaller capacities or abilities granted to others, such as appointing them a vessel, they typically gain access to what is deemed necessary for use and not much else after that.

However, lamb was a bit different. Due to Nari knowing about the prophecy and the lamb showing absolute devotion, he gave her more access than she should have had and gave the crown room to sink its teeth in.

Granted, the crown quite likes lamb, almost imprinting onto her from her sheer strength of will and determination for revenge. It sought no reason to take control or try to as she did what it would have wanted her to do most of the time anyway.

So much so that it gave her a bit of help after Nari 'promised' her the prize she wanted, and the crown placed them into a pact. (That will be its own ramble later.)

and if she hadn't rejected Nari herself, the crown would have tried to make her reject him in her vulnerable state.

Now that he resides in the cult, the crown more or less is her's 100%, no shared control. And now that it has a new host, it no longer needs its old one, for what use is a gross chewed up toy to a beast when there's a fresh one to bite?

It still wants control—it's still a beast in a cage—but it's more willing to let her do as she pleases. It waited with Nari for over a thousand years, and it's waiting who knows how long more for the new host to eventually give in. It's very patient.

Also, when a host becomes infected with the crown's influence, their behavior tends to become strange.

Bursts of anger, erratic behavior, thoughts being replaced with what the crown wants you to think, and hallucinations, both visual and auditorial, are the general baseline for the start of an infection of the host, with other symptoms varying from host to host

#demun chatter #new beginnings au #these thoughts are also subject to change of course-

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colourstreakgryffin · 9 months ago

Note

I don't know if you take based character readers or if you know anything about Deltarune/Undertale or Toby Fox content but I wanted to request Andrealphus, Stella (alternative can be Blitz if you don't write for her) and Mammon with a Spamton reader? Thank you! I love your writing!

Haha! Ooh! I’ve never written for Andrealphus OR for Stella OR for Mammon, it’s new and I like it! I will absolutely do them all, we love our mean bitchy villains! Thank you so much! I have never tried Undertale/Deltarune based characters before but I have Google to help! I apologise for taking so long, here is first time try~!

Andrealphus

Andrealphus doesn’t remember why he even hired you. You’re a lunatic, you’re maddening. Spouting nonsense, speaking in Broken English, giving him weird items he has no use of. What did he want from you again?

Andrealphus doesn’t remember but he won’t deny that you’re amusing to listen to rant on and contradict yourself and behave like some perfect salesperson. At least, he knows you wouldn’t dare try scam him. He won’t hesitate to eviscerate you on the spot

Andrealphus may find you a bit nonsensical but he has found a use in YOU in general. Not just your ridiculous personality and cute but pathetic little scamming shop. But that you’re actually more witty and a bit kinder than you act, he exploits that by having you as a give to and give back servant

Andrealphus gives you a room in his palace and sustenances whilst you go out and scam the useless poor citizens of Hell for him. Bring him money, bring him back pricey possessions with your violent and nonsensical deals. Bring him back anything that’ll be useful to him and he’ll keep you

Andrealphus views you as his mad little puppet, his scammer, his perfect demon. A pink, yellow winged little marionette that does his bidding in favour for a great life but also for those thrills. He can tell you aren’t that unhappy with your unhinged state

Andrealphus does actually ‘like’ you. Yes. It’s all for what you can give him with your sales work but other than that. You’re adorable and when you actually express a occasional sensical comment to him, he’s pleased and content but don’t think he’s attached to you

He is. He absolutely is, he’s just trying to not admit it. He enjoys tea parties with you

“Marionette. What have you brought for me today~? A big bag, I see. Let’s go through it, sit in my lap now. I want to see everything you’ve scammed for me”

Stella

Unlike his brother, Stella does openly express she doesn’t really have as much use for you. You’re one of Stolas’ pathetic little servants. Her husband may see value in you but she doesn’t… that’s what she thought for quite some time until she realised there’s something there with your skillset

Stella cannot stand your personality. You’re a bumbling babbling baboon that talks the heaviest shit she’s ever heard, she can’t even understand you half of the time and it pisses her off

Though, you’re basically a thief. Your sales’pitches ends with you setting off with useful items or fat loads of money. Stella doesn’t need either but she can get what she wants from you, things like equipment to set up her parties, weapons for her hired hit to kill her opponents, or even just to get her dirty work done

Just then. That’s when Stella begun sweet-talking you, manipulating you. Offering you money and better treatment than Stolas gives you if you work for her solely, so you take it and Stella’s pleased with her efforts. She has a special little muppet to do as she wants when she wants

Stella likes, despite your stupidly insane mindset and gruff cruel attitude annoying her, how you screw others over and it makes her laugh so she sets up booths of your shop at places like his parties or around her land or even directly at Stolas

Stella grows to ‘like’ you more and more you serve her, she does get mad at all failures but really. She clearly has a soft spot for you and your inability to spelling words correctly. You have traits that annoy her but she is possessive over you

No Stolass is taking you away from her. She needs somebody to have tea parties with

“Did you get it? That’s good, darling little muppet. Your princess is quite pleased. Now, I order you to come with me to arrange our ‘Not Divorced’ Party”

Mammon

Mammon’s the King of Greed, the Sin of Greed. There is nothing he loves more than easily exploitable yet reliable figures to work for him so that’s where he ends up finding about you through his minions. Running a small but successful scam of a shop to the civilians of Greed with those cut-throat exchanges of yours

Mammon ‘hires’ you on the spot. You’re simply perfect for him, he can take most of the money and items you manage to gather, yet, also make you fabulously known and beloved by crowds all around the Rings

Like for the Goetias above, Mammon forms a take yet give relationship with you. He takes a big chunk of your profits through your malicious nonsense scams called sales but he also gives you a spot to make you even more wealthy. He has a favourite toy immediately

You’re mentally unwell yet with a good heart in a weird way, you make no sense and write like you’re having a stroke and yet. Mammon’s attached to it, somebody who thinks and behaves like him so you become the ‘child he didn’t want’, almost shoving Fizzarolli to the side

Mammon does think you’re like a little doll. A pretty doll with nice eyes and a sharp tongue that gets you the deals you want, you’re a natural salesperson with the ability to say you’re not in it for money but he knows you almost always are. It’s why he likes you

Mammon has you high up on his pillar of ‘good toys’. One of his most usual tools and ‘employees’ that he can manipulate so easily. He doesn’t even find you impossible to bond with, he gets you and it’s a reason he pulls strings around you more to benefit off you yet benefit you

He’d rather die than state he does somewhat care about you. It’s all about the wealth but still

“Ah. Had a tired day? I know you did but I need you to give me all your profits today, pretty Doll. Remember. You’re doing so well for me and for you~”

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system-of-a-feather · 9 months ago

Note

hi!! back on my bullshit (asking for some resources if you have them and are willing to share)

would you mayhaps have some resources on non-western plurality? especially spiritual plurality but I'm curious about anything and everything

books, video essays, and other medias are very welcome too along with papers/scientific research !!

oop sorry it's a lot. also I'm 99% sure you replied to these kinds of asks multiple times I'm just not tumblr savvy (despite having been on tumblr 10+ years now)

thank you <3

@seasidewanderers

God relatable about the "been on tumblr for 10+ years but still dont know how to use it well". I actually haven't really answered too many asks like this, at least not asking for resources and what not.

I do want to put a bit of a disclaimer about "non-western plurality" - at least from what I know from a more eastern perspective - a lot of "non-western plurality" does not actually really call itself plurality.

The concept of "plurality" in its self is a heavily western / european kind of concept, not because it only exists in those spaces, but because a lot of other spaces don't really make anything special of it so a name, community, label, etc is not exactly necessary or even particularly sensical. It's kind of like looking for "western singularity" or more accurately "western individualism". It's a bit redundant - at least in my personal perspective.

In a number of non-western cultures, the idea of having multiple selves and having that deep internal relationship isn't really anything too odd and I've heard a number of systems raised in those cultures or around cultures rooted in eastern philosophy that the people they mentioned having alters / parts / headmates to often responded POSITIVELY and casually to the concept because its generally just considered relatively normal if not a positive thing to engage with. The real question then becomes whether or not it counts as plurality or not and that's really up to the individual themselves.

It's a very western thing to really make a huge deal, spectacle and oddity out of experiencing oneself as multiple and honestly I think that can be kind of really well seen in a lot of eastern media with how much plural-adjacent themes are seen in non-DID and not-trying-to-be-DID ways. There is a large aspect of an external self and an internal self, a balancing of good and bad and opposing forces in a lot of Eastern Cultures both on religious, spiritual, philosophical, and just plain old cultural levels. Yin and Yang, Non-dualism, "Face", the general collectivist culture, Buddhism as a whole and deity yoga in particular.

Partially due to the social norms that tend to come with a highly collectivist culture and just the prominent foundational philosophies and spiritualities that are generally native to the area and the lack of a strong sense of individualism as seen in the west, it's extremely common to have strictly different modes for different situations and places as there is a strong level of conformity and respect that needs to be provided to specific locations in order to uphold the strong value of harmony that is valued heavily in collectivist cultures. People in these more collectivist cultures tend to really have to balance and make amends between these highly varied versions of themselves and so it isn't all too weird to be juggling notably different, changing and sometimes conflicting versions of selves; the version of you who is shaped to meet the communal needs and appeal / participate in sustaining harmony and the you that really fucking hates everyone here.

From talking with others who come from more eastern backgrounds, a thing we tend to kind of sigh and giggle at in the system community in terms of it being "extremely white / western" is just how overtly a lot of discussions on self, parts, and what not is EXTREMELY individualist and very much fundamentally built with a strong attachment to differentiation, defining yourself, labeling yourself, and drawing clear boxes around who you are to help understand, explore, and define your own identity. It's hard to really explain to those that are really deep into the western concept of individualism and haven't really looked into it and analyzed it, but as someone who is not exactly a fan of individualism and individualist perspectives, it's EXTREMELY loud and obvious in system communities.

And this is all a lot of preamble to really say there isn't going to really be "resources for non-western plurality" because its not anything particularly special in Eastern Cultures and cultures not built largely from a long running history of Christian / Catholic and maybe Abrahamic Roots (I don't know enough of about Islam or Judaism to say for sure but a lot of individualism does tend to stem from a cultural history and background with at least Christianity / Catholicism). Because it's not exactly special or anything particularly unique of a concept, most don't really label it or name it something or even really discuss it (also a symptom of collectivism and general Eastern cultures is not really discussing mental health or internal experiences, most of your experiences in these cultures are kept internally and dealt within yourself rather than with others) unless directly brought up by someone who DOES find it odd; ie usually a westerner or someone like me who is a first generation American from an eastern background.

So if you want "resources on non-western plurality" you won't find it looking for "plurality" as much as you would by looking into individualism vs collectivism and the cultural roots connecting to those concepts.

Of course there are also the more overt ones that talk about it, like Buddhism does because Buddhism largely serves as a way to try to teach people to find harmony within themselves AND the world to find and instill a sense of peace and serenity overall. That's added onto the fact that a lot of Buddhism is based on talking and discussing things so its an odd card out in a lot of eastern cultures in the sense they ACTIVELY like talking about how people experience themselves.

A lot of what I know comes from life experience, what I've been taught by my family and peers, and discussions with people who come from their own backgrounds; ie, most of what I know comes from anecdotal personal experience. Some I also know from some formal cultural responsivity / sensitivity / trauma informed care modules for work and during school, but most of it is honestly from personal experience and anecdotes.

Even so, I can provide some starting points to assist someone unfamiliar with the territory in investigating and learning a bit on topics relating to the normalization of plural-esque experiences in non-western cultures.

"The Concept of Self in Eastern and Western Philosophy" by Petar Radoev Dimkov is just an interesting run down of major philosophical branches of thought's perception of self

General Reading of Collectivism VS Individualism; I suggest searching up things regarding the clinical significance of understanding and acknowledging collectivism vs individualism when working with clients as well as the impact of those cultures on how one's self concept is experienced, developed and understood

General readings on the history of prominent eastern philosophies / religions (Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism, Hinduism, Shintoism, etc) and their impacts on eastern culture / their ideas and values on the self, particularly in relation to others

And honestly? I'd suggest on actually searching and reading into the Western views of self and reading where those views and values come from as well because it will 1) likely bring up juxapositions to eastern views and 2) Its hard to truly learn and understand ANOTHER perspective if you don't first really sit and consider your OWN perspective

A lot of people think the idea that "we are one person, a unique self" is a scientific fact and in heavily white / western spaces, the way that statement is treated as fact is a very frustrating thing to see. "We are one person, a unique self" is a BELIEF that is ingrained deeply into Western Society that its treated and considered a fact despite there not really being scientific evidence to support it. (I think it also has something to do with how much "belief" is associated with religion, at least in America, rather than an opinion on something that has little scientific backing)

A lot of western psychology is also built with the assumption of a single unique self, so genuinely I think the best starting point for a white / western person to start trying to learn and understand eastern views is to first do a DEEP dive into Individualism and the Philosophy and Belief that everyone is their singular unique self.

Cause it's only when you acknowledge your own beliefs and cultural background can you actually appreciate, respect, and acknowledge another's beliefs and cultural background.

(Also just in general, learning about philosophy and following some people who just enjoy discussing philosophy can really help as well. Philosophy is the father of Science for a reason afterall. I don't know too much about him as I don't really actively follow him so he might have some bad takes or some bad history that I don't know about so take this recommendation with a grain of salt, but I really have enjoyed listening to Alex O'Connor on youtube talk about philosophy. I'm pretty sure he also engages in a lot of philosophy and religion-related debates and I think hes an Atheist? But I don't watch those so I dont know. I've only really watched his "Taking Trolley Problems Too Seriously" videos and a few one offs when I just needed something in the background while drawing, but he does know a lot of philosophical perspectives and does juggle them well enough that I honestly don't know his personal beliefs and lowkey don't really want to XD Ps: Im always hesitant to recommend youtubers cause almost all youtubers are assumed probably assholes, dicks, or Into Weird Things until proven otherwise)

#feathers speaks #sysconversation #actuallyaapi #actually aapi #philosophy #standard singular self #philosophy talk

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