Radiance.
Akutagawa x GN!reader. NSFW. Fellatio. Akutagawa has very low self-esteem. Self-loathing. Angst and smut. 1.4k words.
Even on the clearest nights, the city sky is starless. Akutagawa swears the darkness suits him well– pitch black like his heart and as empty as his soul. His eyes are but mirrors, reflecting the void.
But even he needs respite. If he dwells in the dark for too long it’ll suck him down, swallow him whole like a tar pit. On nights like this he’s learned it’s vital to seek a little absolution; your tender touch the perfect dam to hold the abyss at bay. The boss knows by now not to expect Akutagawa to follow orders to the letter. He’ll get to it in his own time.
So he stands on your doorstep, black coat fluttering in the breeze, his pale face illuminated by the light pooling from your front door; a waif, a stray, a butcher, a tired and helpless man desperately seeking a speck of light.
“May I come in tonight?” he asks, expecting to be turned away despite the fact you never have.
“Ryūnosuke…” His name–the one he hears so rarely, sometimes he almost forgets it’s his– is but a sigh of relief on your lips. “Of course.”
Weeks have passed since his last visit. Weeks of you wondering where he is, checking the news for stories of dead mafiosi, which of course would never air– the Port Mafia’s barbs are stuck beneath the skin of almost every press establishment and news corporation covering Yokohama. But still, you check, you read the obituaries, you fret.
You step aside to let him cross the threshold, completely missing the point. It isn’t your home he needs, it isn’t shelter from the cold or the dark beneath your cozy roof. It’s you. It will always be you. But he steps inside regardless, at once feeling at odds in the golden glow.
The tender warmth of your sanctuary itches his skin, the comfortable air tickles his weakened lungs. He should be out there, scurrying down alleyways, tunnels, all the grim places of the city, spreading the plague of death to his targets. Not sitting at your kitchen table with a cup of steaming tea heating his palms while you hang his coat on a hook by the door.
“When was the last time you ate?” you ask, fussy as ever.
“The tea is more than enough.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He takes a sip, signaling an end to the conversation. He isn’t in the mood to bicker.
Neither, apparently, are you. A few minutes later you set a plate of onigiri in front of him. You've always been frustratingly adept at understanding him. You've never flinched from him as if he's venomous. Nor have you ever been afraid of the hollowness beneath his surface; rather determined to fill it somehow, be it with your companionship and affection, or simply by stuffing his empty stomach.
When he's tired of the world you provide him with a soft place to lay his head. When he's overcome with rage you provide the sweetest of releases, converting his wrath to lust. And, like tonight, when he feels unworthy and empty, when the dark he inhabits sinks too deep, you chase it away with soft kisses and that brilliant, blinding light of yours he's certain he's only worthy of in small doses.
But he clings to your gestures like a dying man clutching the fraying thread of his own mortality. He sips your tea, he eats your onigiri, he climbs into bed beside you.
“You're so beautiful,” you whisper, lying through your teeth as usual.
“Let’s not talk,” he replies curtly, in lieu of everything he wants to say. You're mistaken, you are the beauty, he is a rabid beast with flesh between his teeth and blood beneath his claws. A monster, a wraith, diablo.
He braces himself for the tug of knots when your fingertips thread through his hair, but they glide unhindered as if it were silk. Your hands travel down his torso, paying equal reverence to the patches of pale, unblemished skin as the multitude of scars marring his flesh, loving them into a strange state of existing and not. Heat thaws his bone-deep cold as you kiss him over and over.
Dear God, he could quickly grow addicted to the soft sigh of his name on your lips; Ryūnosuke, never Akutagawa, a man, not a butcher. You make it sound so soft and pretty it couldn't possibly be his.
You drip light into the void with every kiss; lips soft and loving against his, then down to his clavicle, his chest, his sluggishly full belly. And there you linger, your tongue flitting against his hip bones as he writhes beneath you, completely unbound and free to put an end to it at any point, yet captive and helpless, teeth bared like a cornered dog.
“What’re you doing?” He bites back the rest. Get it over with. This tenderness is unbearable. Don't stop. Don't stop. “Hurry up and ride m–”
He's rendered mute by the wet heat of your mouth surrounding his cock.
Everything in him stills if only for a moment; the pleasure immense, deafening, blinding, terrifying, wonderful. Oh God. How could you? He almost instinctively pushes you away, because what could you possibly get from it, you fool? Why suffer for his undeserved pleasure? You surely can't enjoy it.
Surely you taste the unbearable bitterness. Surely you despise every pathetic twitch against your tongue. And he knows he needs to put a stop to it. He must. Pleasure like this is not meant for the likes of him.
But then you moan. And his mind momentarily empties.
Night presses against the glass, unable to reach him as he lies trembling in your glow. You kiss his cock like you kiss his lips; so tender, adoring, but hungry. And your hands, god your hands… one securely, possessively, lovingly holding his waist, the other wrapped around the base of his shaft, stroking him as your tongue laps and flutters voraciously.
All he can do is clamp his hand over his mouth and cry out, catching glimpses of you in the rare moments he’s able to pry open his eyes. And you are so utterly, painfully beautiful. So focused, so intent on pulling him apart, strand by fraying strand. You kiss, you lick, you suck, and moan, and God it feels so good he can’t stand it.
He’s vaguely aware of the way his legs tremble, but as if he’s watching some other wretch lost in bliss below him while he can only gulp down air to keep himself from drowning in ecstasy.
“I’m there… I’m there…”
You don’t heed his warning. In fact, it only spurs you on. Pleasure sinks its claws into his core, overwhelming, devouring, pulling cries of bliss from between his lips as he spills his seed across your tongue. He comes a second time when he feels you swallow it down, his pleasure barely subsiding after the first before he finds himself ravaged by it again.
And in the aftermath, you hold him, tender kisses landing on his thighs, his hips, his belly. So loving. You’re always so much softer with him than he deserves.
His face grows hot, tears welling on his waterline, then spilling, soaking the skin of his wrist as he covers his eyes and hopes– futilely– that you don't notice.
You raise your head, your expression maddeningly concerned. “Ryūnosuke?”
“Don't.”
But you do, of course you do. You shift to lay beside him and hold him in your arms, letting him bury his face in the curve of your shoulder as he reins in the words he so longs to whisper to your ear: don't send me back out into the dark.
“Stay with me, Ryūnosuke,” you answer as if hearing the deepest secrets of his soul.
So he kisses you in lieu of all the things he longs to say.
And as his breaths grow calm, his heart begins to ache, overwhelmed by the knowledge that you want him. He's wanted. He could stay if he would only allow it; if he could resist the night’s ceaseless pull on his leash and the constant urge to prove his strength. But he can’t, you both know it. No matter how tempting.
Akutagawa wasn't meant for your world. But in your arms, for a little while at least, he isn’t the night or the starless void, but the moon who inhabits it, full and celestial, and reflecting your light.
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THE WAY OF THE HOUSEHUSBAND - RYŪNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA
➪ sypnosis : ryūnosuke akutagawa, the infamous blood hound of the port mafia, who is also your hardworking lover who wants to make you happy
➪ other notes : i love the way of the house husband, such a good anime so ofc i had to do this prompt with aku, a bit ooc so i apologize for that
- now who would’ve thought this man could feel such deep love for someone
- sure he’s a very dangerous man but that doesn’t mean he can’t be sweet
- you make him happy and he just wants to repay that feeling tenfold
- every morning before he goes to work, he makes sure to boil some tea for you, not too hot but not too cold once you wake up
- if you message him that you need any type of groceries, be prepared for him to bring a lot of that specific product
- while he’s not too knowledgeable with shopping, he takes his time to make sure he doesn’t screw up
- i have a feeling that he somewhat knows how to cook, having lived in the slums for so long, he has to have some kind of prior knowledge
- in order to learn more, he watches cooking shows while you’re not there to see what he can improve on
- your bright smile as you try the food is all he wants and needs
- though i do think he hides this domestic side from you as much as possible
- he has too much pride for that
- but it doesn’t take you long to realize as you flip through all the cooking channels he’s subscribed to
- while you shower, he’ll silently bring you warm towels in order to prevent you from being too cold once you finish
- if you forget to do so, he’ll often do your laundry, not wanting to stress you out even more
- sigh imagine seeing atsushi on a shopping run
- “weretiger!” he shouts as rashomon swings grocery bags at the poor white haired boy
- “ryū!” you call for him to stop, not wanting to start a fight with you, he walks off
- not before side eyeing atsushi ofc
- he can’t help to ponder as to why he immediately stopped when you called for him
- and then he realized that he genuinely cares for what you have to say
- hmm i see aku cleaning out your fridge every once in a while, trying to figure out what to throw away
- he genuinely cares for you so much, you’re the first person who’s loved him
- all of these actions make you feel relaxed, and thats all he wants because you cool him off whenever he needs you
- 10/10 husband material :)
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'•.¸♡Switching clothes.♡¸.•'
I got this idea by watching Jarvis Johnson do a review of high school musical two.
Basically how would they react to their s/o wearing their clothes after they have a quicky round a public area, e.g. if you have a quicky in the bathroom at work and come out wearing each others clothes. It's hard to explain.
Gn!reader
Fluff
Masterlist
Enjoy!
Feat. Kunikida, Dazai, Ranpo, Mori, Akutagawa, Ango, Fyodor, Nikolai.
Doppo Kunikida:
He would think that having sex at work is highly inappropriate and would never do it, but, if you do some how exchange clothing he will absolutely love it.
It shows that he's a part of you and you are a part of him in a way.
He isn't the possessive kind and wouldn't see wearing each others clothes as a way to show that you belong to each other but are a part of each other or being in a relationship.
He wouldn't wear your whole outfit but if you "accidentally" wear his shirt he wouldn't mind.
Obviously the item of clothing has to atleast resemble things he wears.
Osamu Dazai:
Man, he fucking love's when you wear each others clothes.
He would pick up something of yours pitting it on and when you ask him to give it back he'll just make up an excuse and you have to wear his clothes.
He is more on the possessive type and probably does it for others to know that he's with you but he also does it because he thinks you look cute in his clothes.
He's also a little thief of your stuff and your wardrobes would mix together until no one knew who owns what.
Ranpo Edogawa:
He thinks you look cute with his hat or coat thing but he isn't necessarily one to give you his whole outfit.
He also wouldn't want to randomly wear something different in the middle of the day.
Ogai Mori:
Yet another way to show off how you are his and another way to scare anyone away from you.
He wants you all to himself and for everyone to know that so what better way than to randomly leave and come back wearing each other's clothes? People will know you boned and if they don't then they definitely know not to hit on you if they want to keep all their limbs.
He also thinks you look hot in his clothes.
Ryūnosuke Akutagawa:
He doesn't fuck at work... usually.
There are times when the two of you just cannot wait and end up doing it somewhere away from the others or while away on a mission.
During those moments you could try and swipe his clothes away and hope he doesn't notice but he does, maybe he pretends he doesn't from time to time to see you walking around with his jabot tie or his shirt.
He wouldn't let you have his coat, his coat is a way he can protect you both.
Ango Sakaguchi:
He is way too busy to do such things but if you do, he wouldn't realize you switched his clothes out for yours, he is too sleep-deprived to pay attention to his clothes.
Once he comes to the realisation (or someone points it out to him) he will quickly as you to change back into his own clothes.
He doesn't see any meaning behind wearing each others clothes, he just wants to wear his own clothes and get back to work (and also sleep).
Fyodor Dostoevsky:
He doesn't see people often so changing clothes would only mean you seeing people while wearing Fyodor's clothes.
He would only agree on wearing your clothes if they were warmer than his.
It wouldn't bother him if people assumed you two just slept together while at work or that you were his and he was yours and no one could take you away from him, he would enjoy those thoughts roaming other people's minds actually.
He isn't one to fuck at work though so good luck getting killed after stealing his ushanka or Cape.
God forbid you do a poor impression with the worst Russian accent in the world of Fyodor while wearing his clothes, he will literally kill you, no second thoughts.
Nikolai Gogol:
He would fucking love it when you switched clothes.
He finds it hilarious but he loves it. You will get laughed at by him (and possibly others) when wearing his clothes because of how silly they are, especially the silly little hat, he is so silly.
He will probably keep his cape thing because it is very important to have on hand if anything happens.
Over all fucking loves it when you wear his clothes and also loves fucking at work.
༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻
I was going to add more characters but it's too late for that.
Have a wonderful day/night as I inhale expired essential oils.
-love, Az
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