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dirtychocolatechai · 2 years

Text

murphy’s law | p.p

🍵pairing | peter parker x f!reader

🍵wc | 4.8k

🍵warning(s) | 18+, smut; sex pollen, mild dub con cuz pollen, dirty talk, handjob, frottage, needy/desperate Peter, slight sub Peter, age gap (reader is a few years older), loss of virginity

🍵request | sex pollen peter but instead of him staying sweet it makes him dirty

🍵notes | this took me like 3 years to write, no joke 🙃 Anyway, hope it was worth the wait, babes! Sorry for anyone who saw this already, there was an issue with the tags hoping they’re fixed now 👍 Peter is always 18+

🍵tag list: open | requests: open | masterlist

(gif credit @/tomhollandbr)

It’s been 16 grueling hours since everything that could go wrong did.

Avengers be damned, you’ll ghost their asses if you have to suffer through another 16. You're not an expert, but they should have come up with something by now.

Seriously, what’s taking so long?

Not only has Parker suffered enough mortification to last a lifetime, it’s dumb luck he’s still breathing, albeit on borrowed time. A high stakes race against the clock. The eleventh hour is nigh. There’s no overtime, and it’s not just Parker’s dignity on the line this time.

Soon, there won’t be any other choice.

He’s already wound tighter than an old rubber band. His self control is impressive, but even their Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man has his limits.

No doubt, he’s going to snap once the pollen reaches its zenith. All the sticky fever dreams, all the sweat and regret - it’s going to be a cakewalk compared to the hunger that’ll raze through his system like liquid fire, leave him desperate and dripping for a release that’ll never come.

The tension between you mounts with every sneaky touch, each stolen caress bolder than the last. It’s so obvious how badly he aches to reach out, to touch, anticipation hiding in the hunch of his shoulders and the shift of his legs.

Stomach swooping at the sound of his low groan, you beat back the urge to glance up and frown down at the magazine in your lap. “Parker?”

“...”

“... Parker?”

“H-nm?... Oh, uh - what’s, uh, what’s up?”

“Are you --”

You scoff, tucking your elbows into your sides and hunching your shoulders. “My eyes are up here, you little perv.”

Parker jolts, his head turning to face the wall with a sputter. “I - I’m… sorry, I just…” He trails off, the silence dragging on as he gets lost in his head. “Oh my god, why is it so - it’s really hot in here, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s just you, Parker.”

“Huh?” The eyes of his mask click with every slow blink as he sways on the spot. “Really…”

“Yes,” you say. “Really.”

Frustration throbs in your temple, a sharp pain lancing through your skull with every beat of your heart and your jaw worked into a painful knot.

Your nails nearly rip through the glossy page with how forcefully you turn it, the article staring up at you nothing but blurred letters.

“Who knows,” you shrug, “Maybe if you wouldn’t sit so close to me…”

You let the words hang in the air, gauging his reaction.

Only it’s as if he’s woken from a fever dream, his voice slow to come and fraught with heat when he asks, “Can I — please, let me touch you?”

The unexpected request knocks you for a loop; echoes in your ears until you can’t make sense of the words, thoughts thick as mud.

“What?”

Heart thudding in your chest, you peek at his profile from beneath your lashes. It’s harder to breathe, the air sucker punched from your lungs in a shaky exhale. Heat settles into the apples of your cheeks.

“I- no…”

His expression is inscrutable - hidden behind a sea of scarlet fabric. You’re stuck tracking the subtle twitch of his shoulder, the twiddle of his thumbs, as he processes your response.

You wish - not for the first time - Parker wasn’t wearing his mask.

“Please,” he says. “It’s so hot.”

Instead of waiting for you to reject him again, Parker squirms closer and tugs the mask up over his chin. The fabric exposes the lower half of his face, bunching under his nose.

Your eyes follow the line of his jaw to the tender curve of his mouth. And then your attention snags and refuses to budge, your mind conjuring up many scenarios wherein you bite his lips red and raw yourself.

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.

Honestly, this entire situation is cruel - to the both of you. Parker, for obvious reasons, and you - well… You haven’t felt this wound up since you were a teenager, your restraint stretched bow string taut.

“I won’t do anything weird, I just — can’t take it anymore. Need to touch you.” Parker draws in a shuddered breath, a hand scrubbing over the nape of his neck. His voice cracks, low and desperate, “Please, it’ll help… I think…”

Any response you had turns to ash on your tongue at the flash of his tongue whetting his lips. Curling through your mind is a far-off dream better left between the sheets; the image of his head buried in your thighs - his curls tickling your skin and his mouth sugar-sweet on your cunt.

Almost as if he hears your thoughts, his wide jaw flexes and his nostrils flare. A thrum of molten heat bubbles to life deep in your belly, bolts of arousal hooking behind your navel and tugging at your edges until you almost crack like fine china.

Thighs clenched, you choke on a sigh of appreciation when your gaze wanders to the erection stretching out the front of his suit. You rip your eyes away as quickly as they settle, but any hope that Parker didn’t notice where your attention strayed goes out the window when he clears his throat and covers himself with a hand.

Before you can apologize in some awkward, roundabout way, a wide palm wraps around your wrist. He traces shapes into your skin, fabric catching on your pulse point with every pass of his thumb.

“Please don’t make me stop.”

“... Parker…”

Huffing, his hand cups your shoulder, his fingers tense as it seems to do little more than frustrate him.

“--It’s not working. Off, off!” he hisses. “Hn - need’ta get this stupid,” he yanks off his mask and tugs at the torso of the suit, “thing off.”

After a quick smack of the spider emblem affixed, his suit pools around his hips in a puddle of red and blue. The firm planes of his chest glow gold in the dimmed light, the glitter of sweat enhancing the cut of his torso.

Shoulders, broad and capped with thick muscles, melt into a trim waist. Goosebumps burst across his forearms as everything rushes in all at once with nothing to filter the excess stimuli.

Parker flexes his hands, your attention dragged to the constellation of freckles dotting his abs, and oh...

Shit. Lids half-mast, you suck your teeth and pinch your thigh. Remember, no touching.

…Even if you want to map that pattern out with your lips, carve their paths with your tongue. It’s like you’re noticing him for the first time, your head spinning with the realization that as much as you poke fun, he’s not much younger than you.

You’ve always thought of him as a little brother, attractive in that charming boy next door way - all strawberries and cream. And now the urge to nibble on the jut of his hip makes your mouth water, your teeth ache.

It’s as you’re reaching out to see for yourself if his skin is as soft as it looks when he breathes your name. A breathy, awe-filled exaltation that shatters the trance, his eyes wide and eager.

Freezing, you swallow rough and exhale slow. Bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep you grounded. And when your hands don’t stop shaking, you sit on them. That was way too close for comfort.

“What’d you think you’re doing, Parker?” you ask.

Only it’s more like sharing breath, your voice hushed and far too intimate - an open wound that exposes all your raw nerve endings. You’re too afraid to break the strange tension electrifying the distance between you.

Shuffling closer until his knees dig into your thigh, Parker tucks his ankles under himself and reaches out. His eyes beg for relief, pupils blown wide. “Just let me…”

Bridging the gap, his palm settles on you without a barrier for the first time. A deep groan punches out of his chest, his fingertips digging into the meat of your upper arm. His eyes slam shut, his mouth dropping into a slack o.

Awareness sizzles at the points of contact, his hand sliding back over the curve of your shoulder. Even through your shirt his palm is unnaturally warm and clammy. Shivers branch through your limbs when his knuckles stroke over your fluttering pulse.

“Parker -- Peter.”

Your calls for attention go unheeded, the web slinger pushing until you find yourself sprawled across the couch with him on top of you. Torso plastered to yours, his body is a too warm weight as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck.

His next exhale shudders from him.

Parker sighs. “Mm, you smell really good.”

Content for the moment, he traces the line of your throat and ends behind your ear. Puffs of moist breath tickle your skin as he breathes you in; your scent a cooling balm that tames the blood boiling in his veins, albeit temporarily.

“Like really, really good,” Parker slurs, low and punch drunk. “D’ya know that?”

Patting the back of his head with a chuckle, your own falls back in defeat. This is so not how you expected to spend your day off, swallowing down all the inappropriate feelings welling up in the face of Parker’s inability to keep his greedy hands to himself.

“Thanks, kid.”

You throw out the nickname in an attempt to pump the brakes, give yourself time to muster up some semblance of self control. He’s already got a crush on you the size of the moon - there’s no reason to give him false hope.

His face is burrowed in the side of your neck so you can’t see his expression but when he responds, there’s no mistaking the petulance threaded through his words, “Don’ call me that.”

You hate how endearing that is.

“‘m not a kid…”

“Yeah, uh-huh. You’re not a kid.”

“‘m not.”

You leave him to his sulking, pleased this is helping even if it’s awkward. It’s going to be weird after this, but you’re sure things will return to normal. The dynamic will repair itself and you can go back to pretending you don’t know how Parker feels about you.

You fall into a rhythm, occupying yourself by running your fingers down the back of his neck. Smothering a smile at the hum rumbling from his chest into yours, you drag your nails along the pink skin.

Parker shudders in your arms. Lips glide over the sweep of your jaw.

Mouth opening, you start to protest when he ducks down to skim his lips over yours, the kiss petal soft.

His chest heaves where it’s pressed to yours, his hips flexing against your thigh in little aborted thrusts. A damp patch blooms on the crotch of his suit, Parker whining low and wounded as he works himself up.

The downright sinful grunts and breathy groans stoking the embers of your desire, a rush of heat stealing across the bridge of your nose. Your voice cracks, "Parker, stop!”

“God, ‘m so sorry.” Hands shackle your wrists to the cushion. “I wish I could, I really do, but - I can’t, you smell so good and I…”

Your wrists twist in his grip, and press for his attention, “Peter, let go.”

A hot tongue drags over your pulse. Then a flash of teeth and gentle suction as the web slinger draws your skin into his mouth. He releases with a wet pop, pressing a tiny kiss to the abused spot.

“Let me - just a little, I promise.”

His plea gives you pause long enough for him to seize his opportunity with both hands before it floats away. The musky scent of arousal is thick in the air, saturated with a scorched spice that burns your nose but compels you all the same.

Parker’s lips tremble inches away from your own. “Can I - can I kiss you?”

The effort is sweet, but you both know he can’t do much else but submit to his whims. In fact, you encourage him to kiss you harder with a tug of his curls. He’s like a man starved of touch, all consuming as his hands stroke the curves of your body, drawing you into the breadth of his torso.

“Oh my god, ‘m so sorry I just - shit, you feel…”

It’s like being doused in gasoline; once he’s tasted you, he can’t stop.

Only pulling away long enough to get a few words out at a time. He’s hungry and searching, his tongue soft and curious where it licks along the tender inside of your lip. You moan. The obscene glide is just the right amount of filthy to get your toes curling.

“Shit, Parker.” Catching his lip on the release, you give it a teasing nip. ”Never would’ve guessed.”

“Oh, that’s...”

Never finishing the wayward thought, Parker surges forward with a new found voracity. Every kiss is different. Some are so long and deep you’re left gasping for breath. Others are nothing more than sharing space.

Any lack of finesse is more than made up for with how eager he is. It doesn’t take much for him to pick up on which way he needs to flick his tongue to get your hands in his hair or how to get those honeyed moans to tumble from your lips.

Enthusiasm gets the better of him, his hips finding a home between your thighs. And then he’s lining up with your core and rutting forward into the cradle of your body. The angle’s perfect.

The fat head of his cock nudges your clit through two layers of clothing, a rush of heat trickling down your spine like water from the muted stimulation. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, every measured grind making you aware of how messy your pussy is, panties sticking to your swollen folds.

You jerk, breath rushing from you in a low hiss.

“Did I - are you - ohh, my ghaaah…” Panting, Parker flicks his sweaty curls out of the way and white knuckles the cushion by your ribs. “You okay? Was that too much?”

His hips are slow to stop, but once he does a plaintive whine escapes at the lack of friction. His eyes are hazy and brimming with tears, shaking apart on top of you with the effort it takes to stop his mindless rutting.

It’s difficult replying through the whimper trapped at the back of your throat but you manage somehow. “No, no I’m - fine, it’s fine. Just - you can keep going.”

A livewire of raw nerves, it’s not long before Parker gets frantic again. This time he’s throwing his whole body into every thrust, his arms a cage that keeps every available inch of your body pressed to him.

He can’t decide where to settle his hands, palms hovering over your tits before dropping to the dip of your waist. They grope at your thigh and then inch up to dig into your hips. His cock throbs in time with his heartbeat, a swollen line that spreads you open with every pulse, every twitch.

The friction’s too much. Not enough. Prolongs the inevitable. Drives him higher and higher and higher - and hangs him there. One wave of burning arousal flows into another until he’s sick with the instinct to touch, suck, fuck it out of his system.

The pollen accounts for most of it but it’d be a lie to say it’s not filthy-dirty-hot how wrecked he is above you… And he’s not even buried deep inside you - yet. But god, you wish he was.

It would be a mutually beneficial resolution...

“Can - oh fuck - can smell how wet you are right now.”

The words break him, his back rippling with hitched little breaths. Finally shoved past the breaking point. You’re surprised he’s held out this long. Desperate little kisses pepper the length of your neck.

Your heart lodges somewhere in your throat, unsure of what to do. You’ve always hated seeing him upset but what the hell are you supposed to do now? Should you even do anything? He’s in so much pain but surely someone will walk through that door any minute with the antidote.

“Parker?” you ask. “What can I do?”

Cupping his face, you unstick him from your neck and search for the answer in the depths of his eyes. His skin is burning up, flushed and dewy with sweat. His curls stick to his cheeks, a wild halo scattered in all directions. His gaze is dark - full of intent. Self-control ripped to shreds, trapped in the throes of insatiable lust.

“Please, I can’t - I can’t,” Parker sobs. “...s’not enough. It still hurts.”

Damnit.

How can you say no to those pathetic eyes filled to the brim with tears. Everyone hoped it wouldn’t come to this but… Circumstances being what they are, you have to re-evaluate. He’s already suffered enough, hasn’t he?

“Have you even seen a pair of boobs in person before?”

A furrow develops between his brows and he chews on his lip, his throat bobbing. His fingers twist in the fabric of your shirt. The little shake of his head is so quick and short that you’d have missed it if you weren’t watching for it.

“Man, this is so embarrassing…”

He refuses to look at you, glaring at a spot on the couch somewhere around your shoulder and that just won’t do. Especially if you’re about to be the one to pop his top. You’d like to still have a relationship with him after all’s said and done. Can’t do that if he won’t even be able to look you in the eye.

Losing his virginity because he’s forced to is already horrible. No need to give him a complex. A split second decision has you shushing him, stroking the sweep of his cheekbone and wicking away the tears.

“It’s okay, Peter,” you say. His first name tastes far too sweet, fizzling like champagne on your tongue. “Pinky promise.”

His eyes squeeze shut, his body sagging into you, and he slurs a litany of thank you’s into your neck before preoccupying himself with nipping at your collarbone. Working a hand between the press of your bellies, you slip into the bottom half of the suit and take hold of him for the first time.

Velvet soft, he throbs in your palm and whines at the foreign touch.

“O-Ohh, haah, my - fffuhh.”

Pre-cum drools from the slit, your hand soaked after a few sloppy warm up strokes. The wet schlick of his cock sliding through your fingers gets your heart pounding and your pussy throbbing. The scent of sex teasing your senses, heavy in the air and daring you to push him over the edge he’s been straddling.

“You good?” you ask, swiping your thumb along the ridge of his cockhead. “It’s not too rough?”

He chokes on his inhale, arching back so far he’s sure to pull something.

Taking his reaction as confirmation, your nails drag through the neat thatch of hair curled around the base of his shaft. It’s a little cramped but with a little maneuvering you get your fingers around the thickness of him and gently squeeze the filled out shaft.

He jerks in your grip, hips twitching. “Shit, fuck, oh my god--”

“Mm, that’s it, Peter.” You encourage him to fuck up into the circle of your fist, playing with his weeping slit. Your strokes are languid, sure. "Use my hand, let me help you feel better.”

Who knows, maybe this’ll be enough.

“I - I want…” He breaks off with a full body shudder, curling in on himself. “--Please!”

“What is it?” Working your wrist, you jack him off faster and alternate the strength of your hold to hear him whimper. “What do you want, Peter?”

“I need,” he gasps, jaw clenching hard as he bites out, “you.”

Or not… Well, it’s no contest by this point.

“Okay.”

The suit and his boxers get tossed off to the side with little fanfare, a bundle of red, blue and plaid that’s quickly joined by yours. Seeing him naked for the first time takes away your breath, the etch of his body fucking devastating. He’s far from the mouthy teenager you met years ago.

“Oh, wow, you look…”

There’s a dopey smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes a physical caress as it roves over the exposed length of your body. They track every dip and curve, focusing on your tits and how your nipples tighten under his gaze before dipping to the apex of your thighs.

With a smirk, you shift back on the couch and stretch out, resting your heels on the overstuffed cushion. Your hands drag down the slope of your thighs, your knees falling open. Parker chokes, his eyes wide and disbelieving as he gets his first look at your pussy - your silken folds and aching clit on full display.

“You can do more than look, Peter.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he presses down on the backs of your knees. Slotting himself into the open space, he stares down at where his cock rests over your belly.

“Can’t believe I’ll fit inside you - you look so - fuck, so good.”

You hum, reaching down to give his shaft a few more strokes before arching your hips and working the swollen head between your folds. When it catches on the rim of your entrance, you let Parker take over.

“You feel so, so soft and wet.” His voice is full of wonder, his expression borderline pained at how hot your pussy is against his oversensitive cock. He groans, throaty and ragged. “H-Holy shit.”

The first few tentative thrusts rub him along the length of your slit but then his hips flex just right and he’s sinking forward into you cautiously. You whine softly at the slow glide, your gummy walls relaxing with every inch he gives.

It’s a tight fight and somehow that’s even hotter. Who’d have guessed unassuming Peter Benjamin Parker is so hung every inch of your pussy is stuffed full of his cock.

Cussing, he anchors himself on the backs of your thighs. When he bottoms out, its like being wrapped in liquid silk. A shaky sigh of relief follows his bitten off whimper, his expression heated and his cheeks rosy with fever.

Then, you fully relax and your gummy walls give under the pressure. Your cunt sucks him deeper, the spongy cockhead kissing your cervix with a wet squelch. Completely blissed out, he fixates on the sight of you stretching wide around the girth of his shaft.

“Ohhh my fuck-ing god.” Hovering over you, the normally sweet young man falls apart. “You’re taking my dick so well,” Parker breathes. “I…”

Abs clenching, his hips surge forward before he catches himself, his arms bunching with the effort of holding himself in check. Jaw working furiously, he fights through the feverish haze long enough for clarity to return, his eyes tortured and heavy but oh so very hungry.

“‘m sorry, that’s so rude to say, I just - I can’t - shit.

“Oh, Peter.”

You sigh, arching into his touch. Nevermind the tender sparks of pain you’ll be feeling for days, his hands a little too rough, too rude. Tiny sparks of black amid an ocean of pleasure.

He’s so deep every minute shift nudges the tip against your cervix, the veins dragging over your walls and hitting all your sensitive spots in a single stroke.

“Please, help me. Wanna make you feel good,” he barely breathes, one sentence running into the other without pause, “Wanna make you cum too but I...please.”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

A frantic nod.

“Now why don’t you start moving, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah - I, okay, I can do that…”

Wrapping your legs around his, you use your feet to start him on a slow rhythm and use your hips as an example to show him how to move. Before long, he’s rocking down into you with long, heavy strokes.

“Feelin’ good, baby?”

“So good. Never thought - hhnng - never thought I’d get to do this with you.”

“Good, that’s good. Want you to feel good.”

“Tell me,” he says, sweaty forehead resting against yours so he can stare into your eyes. “Tell me what to do.”

“Faster,” you reply, “and try to grind up if you can.”

Shocks of pleasure settle between your thighs, one hand threading into the curls at the nape of his neck. He whines when you yank, tugging him down to press a sloppy kiss to his lips. The wood of the couch creaked with every rocking movement, the legs scraping across the floor with how hard he’s fucking into you.

“Wanted to do this for so long.” Parker’s slurring into the crook of your neck, sucking on the tender skin. “Thought about it every time I saw you.”

His body cages you in, surrounds you and fills every sense with nothing but him. Sharp hip bones smack into the backs of your thighs, his ass flexing beneath your feet as he stuffs you full of cock over and over again.

His breathing is erratic, fast and heavy with effort. After a few more thrusts, his shaft starts to throb with every sloppy roll of his hips. Clutching you closer, his face slips down to your chest where he burrows between your breasts.”I’m - I’m…”

“Peter, I swear I’ll make you regret it if you cum inside.”

“Shit - you can’t just say stuff like that.” He chokes on your name, his hands flexing on your thighs. “‘m not gonna last much longer.”

When he pulls back to look down at you, you notice how much his arms tremble. When your gazes lock, the wordless plea hidden in the depths of his eyes makes your breath rush from you in a low throated groan. Your walls ripple at the sound, slick gushing over his lap when you clench down around his shaft.

Immediately, his arms buckle.

“Fuck! You - you can’t just do that.”

Catching himself at the last second, he ruts forward desperately amid the distant sound of ripping fabric and the wet slap of his cock driving balls deep into your needy cunt.

“Not yet, Peter,” you pant into his ear, hips twisting to the side so when he slides in, the head slams into your g-spot full on. “Just a little longer, please, baby. I’m almost there too...”

The tremor starts in your limbs, your hands numb and knees weak. Every shift feels like it scrapes down your spine, your nerves hyperaware and oversensitive. It might’ve taken you a second to establish a rhythm that works for the both of you but it’s so worth it.

A yawning need takes root in your core, you reach down to brush over your clit - the swollen bundle of nerves jumping beneath the pads of your fingers. Toying with your clit, tracing your slit and feeling where he stretches you open brings you right to the edge.

The pressure builds in the base of your spine, the pool of warmth in your belly threatening to wash over you like a tidal wave. Tingles of sensation zip down your spine and through your nerves, your body locking up and your pussy clenching from the dual sensation of a cock stuffing you full and your clit pinned beneath your finger.

“Peter, right there - oh fuck - right there! I’m gonna - gonna…!”

Everything flashes black, every muscle in your body pulled taut. Your hands anchor themselves onto his shoulders, your nails scratching at his skin as you cum harder than you have in a long time. It’s a wet, messy orgasm that leaves you rung out and twitching, your pussy pulsing with every beat of your heart.

Tears slide down your cheeks and you whine, too high on euphoria to care whether or not he cums inside. After all, if he did, you could always make him clean it up with his tongue…

Hips stuttering against your ass, Parker’s mouth drops open in a soundless shout. Buried deep inside you feel his cock throb once, twice, three times before he’s ripping himself away at the last possible second.

Milky slick follows his exit, oozing out of your tender pussy and dripping down your ass to darken the fabric of the couch. Pleasure drunk, you’re almost tempted to have him pump you full but then he’s coming - finally - his shaft bobbing with every thick spurt he shoots over the top of your mound.

His sigh of relief makes you smile, half dazed while he watches his cum drip down over your abused slit. His thumbs slide over your puffy folds, spreading them to see how fucked open you are while massassing his load into your tender clit.

“So pretty ‘n it’s all because of me,” he murmurs, enchanted while you twitch with aftershocks. Between his thighs, his erection remains unflagging. “Can we keep going?”

#peter parker x reader #peter x you #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter x reader #peter parker #marvel #peter parker fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

leviiattacks · 3 years

Note

May I request a Levi x Reader angst fic? Just barely any fluff, mostly angst going on lol. The reader is a traitor, formaly working for Marley, but betraying them in secret and putting their loyalty on Paradis. The reader is also a shifter and married to Levi for a couple of years. That love and care however is gone once readers identity is found. He truly despises them, insults them, maybe a bit violent with them, and outright tells them that they mean nothing to him anymore and hate them to bits. Readers punishment is to hand over her titan to Erwin, and they agree instantly, broken over everything, believing its all their fault. Once Erwin inherits Readers titan, he breaks down and screams, crying, because Reader was innocent the whole time. They never betrayed Paradis. Never killed anyone, never harmed anyone. They finaly know why they betrayed Marley, the abuse being to much for them, enough to just leave them behind for Paradis. Just... loving and caring as they all saw them. But now the damage is done. They wont come back, they're dead, believing that they died, hated and despised, with no one to mourn their death. Everyone regrets everything.

author note :: i was thinking of leaving this in my drafts but i already wrote it and may as well post it. it didn’t end up going the way i hoped but yeah i hope it’s ok anon. anyways ANGST. ANGST, ANGST. as always i love feed back :-) ⟹ all of the headings with the years are just meant to mean it’s a different moment from that year so those moments don’t happen right after each other i hope that makes sense!! word count :: 7.2k warnings :: canon typical violence, death

845, i.

Everything is falling in place when it shouldn't.

Sun never makes itself known in Liberio yet here it is shining down onto the bustling streets. You half expect for it to crash down and burn into the hundreds of civilians going about their daily business yet nothing of the sort happens. It's typical sunlight and you curse yourself silently for your sinister thoughts.

Secretly the voice at the back of your mind still whispers frantically but you don't wish to hear what it has to say. Instead you choose to drown it out with the sound of Zeke's voice. Finally deciding to pay attention to what it is he's been droning on about for the past ten minutes.

"Soon, soon, soon." He sighs dreamily looking a little delirious.

"Soon?"

Your question catches him off guard, he lightly shoves you with his elbow scoffing in annoyance.

"Did you sit here to not even listen to me?" He turns to take a sip of whisky and the hearty gulp he chugs shows his mild irritation. You assume he's been rambling on about Marley's plan to infiltrate Paradis. You have to admit that the idea of destroying those demons from the inside is amazingly well thought out. However it's all he's been able to discuss for the entire week now and frankly you're getting a little exhausted of it.

"I zoned out..." Quietly placing your glass back down onto the wooden counter you sigh closing your eyes. It's too early to be drinking and you don't trust Zeke enough to slip into ignorance and leave yourself vulnerable. Men are to not be trusted, especially Eldian men. The thought of Eldians triggers your flight of fight response, you want to shrivel up into a cocoon and never come out until the world is rid of the monsters. The lowest of the low, the dirt in between the crevices of Marleyan soldier's boots. That is what Eldian's are.

It's ironic coming from you, your entire family labelled as undesirable Eldians yourself but you, you know you're different. An honorary Marleyan is what you will become. What you are. The treacherous imps who are but an ocean away are the true evil.

Eyes flicking to Zeke he's lighting a cigar. Old habits die hard and he's yet to quit this self destructive custom of his. You couldn't care less if he chooses to cut his lifespan short by ten years, it's his own choice to make. A disgusting cowardly choice but it's a choice fit for an untamed man like him.

The Island Devils are said to be the bad apples but you can't help but stare at your fellow citizens from time to time and wonder what it is they could be hiding. If a demon slipped through the cracks you wouldn't be surprised. Sly in nature, persuasive in tone, that is how devils go about their daily lives alone The hymns they drilled into you all the way through elementary school echo and rebound in your mind.

Locking your bitter thoughts away you have to push yourself to not punt Zeke in the mouth when he teasingly blows a puff of hot smoke into your face.

Fingertips grazing with his he freezes at the sudden contact giving you the perfect opportunity to slip his cigar away and take it in between your lips. You allow for it to linger there but you aren't foolish enough to inhale its contents.

"Zeke, my dear friend. We shall soon be met with the fruits of our own labour but I assure you that discussing Marley's plan constantly will be of no benefit for you nor I."

The day you and Zeke had met had been at warrior training camp. Zeke was a miserable, unmotivated oaf. Always tripping and falling behind the rest of the warrior cadets. You felt rather bad for him, if you were born as unskilled as him you don't know what you would have made of yourself. Zeke, the only child of his parents ironically only ever ended up rising through the ranks after handing them over to the Marleyan government. His father and mother had been conspiring an escape plan but were executed immediately alongside their fellow team members once Zeke had outted them. Unexpectedly he was spared, the fact he turned on his own parents showed where his loyalties were. To his surprise, he was even allowed to continue his training with the other warriors - only this time everyone kept an increased distance away from him. The warriors weren't informed of what he had actually done but everyone had a gut feeling. Everyone apart from you stuck with that feeling. You thought strategically, If he were to become an enemy in the future you knew being close would come at your advantage.

The day you and Zeke had met your mother died, his mother passed away the same day. At least that's what he had told you.

The two of you bonded over the little things, told each other stories about your life at home. Reminisced about what it was you missed.

Then it all came crashing down the day Zeke confessed. The day he told you he killed his mother and father by handing them over to Marley. Your knees buckled underneath you, crashing the floor he tried to grab at you but you thrashed around in retaliation kicking and screaming not understanding why he did what he did. Yes, they were traitors but they were his parents and if the monster had the nerve to turn on the people who gave birth to him who's to say he wouldn't do the same to you or to Marley.

Zeke doesn't know it but ever since then you take the opportunity to sneak the occasional glance at him. Every single time you narrow your eyes in malice. If there's a man in Liberio who you don't trust in the slightest it's him, he must think the feud between the two of you from childhood has been put at rest but it hasn't.

Zeke takes another swig of his alcohol. On this occasion he downs it entirely slamming the glass down with vigour.

"ONE MORE GLASS BARTENDER!"

846, i.

Another day of extensive training is about to end, your back is layered in uncomfortable layers of sweat and the same can be said for your forehead. Kneeling down in the under layer of the forest you're hidden waiting to strike. Going up against the elites is nerve-wracking but you're sure you can pull it off so long as you stay calm during this game of hunters against prey.

It's simple enough if you can conceal yourself and stay out of sight. The robust trees that surround you act as decent enough camouflage and your green cape paired with them lets you veil yourself, keeping you further into the foreground, blending into the environment.

No one will be able to catch you if they can't see you.

All of a sudden your previous thoughts are thrown away when you sense something in the atmosphere has changed, the hissing of the wind behind you isn't natural.

Turning to your side you don't bother to cover up the sound of leaves rustling and branches cracking, your priority is slipping away fast enough to hide again, a tug can be felt at your cloak and your reaction time barely covers for you, your gear fastens itself to a low enough tree branch and the descent is mind numbing. Your breakfast churns in your stomach but you ignore the uneasy feeling, leaping and diving wherever you find a small enough gap. You believe you can outrun your huntsman.

That is until you sneak a glance back and your muscles nearly tense up in pure astonishment, you've been kicked in the teeth just by the man's presence. Captain, Levi slinks behind you weaving through the gaps with increasing speed, he's gaining momentum and all the while his face stays relaxed, this isn't even his full effort.

Terrified you dart upwards and then left, a corner comes into view - Levi should assume you've turned into it and so you rashly choose to dart back down. Much to your hard luck you find that his senses are well adapted, the direction of the wind is enough for him to trace your whereabouts.

The pursuit resumes, and he stays disturbingly relentless.

Arm shooting to the right you think perhaps making it look like you're aiming to fly somewhere else again will completely catch him off guard, he can't expect for you to pull the same trick twice.

Setting your plan into motion your finger pulls at the trigger but you startle when the cable doesn't come out, it's jammed. Panic seeps into you and to make matters worse your gas is running out.

Without warning you're thrust into the body of a nearby tree, the bark scrapes against you and scratches begin to form anywhere you've made contact with the jagged surface, you want to admit defeat but the warrior inside of you denies Levi the pleasure of seeing you beg. In its place you deliver a harsh kick to his thigh, you're aware he's injured it and you're certain there are no rules to say you can't play dirty. Your boots hammer against leg hard enough for him to give out and let go of your body, but then you realize you lost this game from the very moment your grapple hooks broke, you have nowhere to hold onto.

Before you can even let out a shriek of horror Levi's shot back to you, he frantically accelerates and by a miracle humanity's strongest is able to grab a hold of you again. This time you don't dig your heels into his leg and you allow for him to clutch you by the torso.

Within a minute the two of you descend towards the forest floor and Levi throws you into the dirt furiously.

"You could have died. Being foolhardy will only lead to an early death." He barks as he directs his blade towards your neck.

"Am I dead yet?" Whispering back your gaze isn't trained on the blade but right up at him.

His nostrils flare up, his hair sticks to his forehead haphazardly and the knuckles that hold his pointed blades are white in tangled dissatisfaction.

Grabbing you by the hips he flings you over his shoulder choosing to not continue with the confrontation.

"I know what you're up to." His voice is still rugged from the pursuit and it takes you a split second to register what he's said.

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches in your throat, no way, there's no way in hell he knows. He's sharp but he's not a mind reader.

Your position means he can't read your face seeing as you're facing his back, instantly steeling your features you let out a breathy laugh.

"And what may that be?" Silently you pray he's worded himself ambiguously to catch a slip up.

"Being gutsy, you think that makes you a good soldier. It doesn't."

Relief floods you. He doesn't know.

"Soldiers need to be brave." Your retort makes him grumble.

"If you die with no meaning by being reckless what's the purpose of being a soldier?" His question has you stopping and thinking on what the correct answer is.

Unable to think of an answer you ask another question.

"Are you saying your previous comrades died without meaning?"

"No. Their deaths fueled me slay more titans."

"So if I died back there who wou-" He swiftly cuts you off showing no inclination of wanting to hear what it is you have to say.

"I'll cut your tongue off if it's stupid." He clearly isn't serious about the threat but he does mean it when he warns you to not overstep.

Despite the consequences you say what's on your mind. "I just wanted to ask who would give my life meaning if I ever died. I don't have siblings and my parents died long ago."

Silence follows and the crunch of his boots against the muddy leaves tells you he probably doesn't wish to answer your question.

"Sorry-"

"I would. I would give meaning to your life." He says it with such ease you almost want to admire the enemy but you know he's said it because he feels he has to.

"You barely know me but I hope one day you can stop thinking everyone has to rely on you." You say it with taunting understanding.

Another bout of silence follows. Only this time the two of you feel warmly comforted, he doesn't understand how you've seen through his facade but it's easy for you to spot another liar.

846, ii.

Brows drawn back you observe your surroundings attempting to mask your scrutiny. The place is running amok with uncontrollable Eldian folk. The stench of unadulterated sin makes itself known but you seem to be the only person able to smell it. Eren bumps against the table you're sat at and your face twitches a little but you say nothing. You're yet to get used to these people's lack of manners.

At least that's how you force yourself to think. To be truthful, you don't quite understand what it is these people have done wrong. Ever since you've arrived you've been nitpicking at every single minor inconvenience or possible issue. A girl stole a potato and broke it into uneven pieces to share and you attempted to twist the story in your head to make her look like an unfair, greedy voracious demon but... you found yourself finding very little to actually be angry at. These people are essentially normal in every way of the word, they aren't demons and you can't help but feel yourself slip away from everything you once knew as reality. You're finding it difficult to believe what years of Marleyan education taught you, the hymns that were once drilled into your brain permanently are but a vague memory.

You feel disgustingly under-dressed and out of place, you don't belong here not when you're meant to hate these people, not when you're meant to despise them. You should be fighting the urge to shove their heads onto pitchforks or to skin them alive and feed them to pigs. Everyone back in Marley told you to control your impulses but now you're here and you've settled down even having the opportunity to converse with these individuals, share their pain, share their loss, share their suffering, you wonder why you have no impulses to control. Have they brainwashed you? Or is it that you're the real demon in this situation?

Fingers mingling with each other on your lap you sit hopelessly alone. Interacting with the so called enemy is much harder than you expect. Worry consistently bubbles in the pit of your stomach and every night is spent tossing and turning evaluating then reevaluating who the bad guy really is. At first the task of daily interaction isn't a big deal, you find it easy enough to approach members of the team and fake interest in their lives until the original plan falls through. You do become invested in your team members lives and stories that it comes to the point where you don't have to force yourself to smile at their jokes or to sympathize with their tales of grief. You become one of them and you swear you're meant to feel like a traitor but eerily you feel like you belong.

Nevertheless you try your best to stick with what you know. You're nothing like Zeke, you're loyal, capable, faithful and trustworthy. Never will you turn your back on Marley.

Rising to excuse yourself from dinner you think you've just about made it and escaped finally able to hide away in the confines of your bedroom but your lips form into a straight uncomfortable line at the feeling of someone's hand latching at your wrist. You're halfway down the hallway just a few more steps away from your bedroom. You hope it's one of the rookies.

"Oi, come here."

Head shooting backwards your eyes land on Levi, his dark curtains fall in front of his eyes - you note that he hasn't trimmed them as he usually does. Despite his size his grip is firm and your wrist squirms around a little trying to manoeuvre out of his bruising grasp. He seems to notice he's underestimated his strength once again and loosens his hold on you. Narrowed eyes analyse your anxious form, they're grey and in this lighting almost glow appearing silver. For a brief second your mouth is left ajar by the delicate but rough manner of his face.

"Everything Okay?" He doesn't typically seem to care very much about anyone, the question activates your senses and you're on full alert but the eye contact you make with him seconds later slows down the gears in your mind, they only whir and hum in anticipation completely coming to a halt.

"Yes, yes everything is okay." You're playing around with the hem of your shirt and you silently question when you were ever this nervous around anyone. You're a Marleyan soldier for heaven's sake not an unrestrained, unsupervised child left to play in a park.

Despite your clear inability to cushion and shield yourself from your Levi's stabbing gaze you attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"I'll be going I just feel a little —" At first you had thought to fake you were ill but at the feeling of a sudden strike of pain you hold onto your stomach, the ache burns into your abdomen and without permission it travels higher up towards your ribs. "A little unwell." You manage to wheeze out. Hand placed onto a nearby cement wall your thought process is hasty speeding up by the second. Have they figured you out and had you poisoned? No, you barely ate anything today.

You hunch over feeling the bile crawl up your throat, on reflex you clamp your eyes shut not wishing to anger a superior by acting insolent and disposing of your dinner in the hallway. Shaky palms reach hesitantly for your lips and you force yourself to keep it in. Levi would commit a murder if you heaved and gagged letting it all out in front of him.

You motion towards the door trying to emphasize that you can handle yourself in the privacy of your room. Tears bite at the sides of your eyes and your vision is so blurred you can only make out the faint outline of the man who was just in front of you.

"Relax. I'll clean it." Your hair is brushed away from your face securely held back and you can't hold it in any longer, the acrid storm surges through your throat, you retch at the harsh sting it leaves behind. Breathing heavy, perturbed and anxious you gasp in all the air you can get.

"I knew you looked ill." His hands hold your jaw gently, the pads of his fingers are calloused but his touch remains soft. A tissue dabs at your mouth wiping away the excess untouched sick.

Just like the sick which surged through you less than a minute ago you feel something else entirely tear into you. You can't put a finger on it but it's dangerous for you to not feel contempt.

847, i.

Your heart accepts what your mind has been ignoring for months on end when Levi looks you square in the eyes after a heart wrenching expedition. The vacant look on his face is enough for the guilt to consume you whole but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know of your sins.

The wagon of corpses reeks of death and desperation. It's rotten and the smell is sickening. Forcibly you stop yourself from feeling any more grief. The despair isn't yours to go through.

Your first ever personal loss outside of the walls and you've learnt Paradis is not home to demons. Cheeks burning in mortification you can't formulate any thoughts on your own accord, instead they continuously emerge in bursts and finally a single thought sticks out from the rest - Are you aiding in the destruction of innocent human life?

The both of you are sat on guard duty with the corpses, half of the team has been wiped out in one sweep. Your trembling hands don't seem to want to steady any time soon and you sit there with your guilty conscience strangling you slowly, your airflow is getting shallower. Shorter, quicker breaths leave you. The imaginary gash in your chest is bottomless, and your lungs push and pull in a power struggle.

Levi's coarse hands abruptly hold onto yours and the floodgates open again, he doesn't know what you've done to him, done to his soldiers, done to his people. If he knew who you really were, would things be different?

"This was out of your control."

Do you tell him?

The question sits in your mind for a while until you shake your head. He takes it the wrong way and think you're responding to him.

"This was not your fault." For the first time in months you've heard his voice crack under pressure.

"Pe- Petra she- I could have taken one for the team and died instead of her." All that remains of your dear friend is her blood soaked cloak. Her body was one of the few that had to be hauled away earlier to decrease the carriage's load.

The fabric still smells of Petra, smells of honey and chamomile and the simple soap offered at the base, but it still smells of her.

Firm hands grab your shoulders and Levi's fingers dig sorely into your flesh.

"Don't."

"But I- I didn't contribute as much as her and she has family who are alive." Hiccuping you try to bare with the fact that you'll wake up tomorrow and not see her preparing breakfast for everyone else. You know you could have propelled her out of the way just in time if you hadn't been so taken aback by the entire situation.

"You were her comrade. She made the choice to die for you."

You want to reach out, sob into his chest and yell that you regret it all, scream and tell him about the secret you've been hiding. A sorry excuse of a comrade you are to let her die on the battlefield not knowing your true identity. The tears roll down your cheeks and Levi feels his heart constrict and squeeze as he comprehends the lack of regard you have for your life. "It should have been me." Is repeated over and over again, your eyes are raw and bloodshot, the vicious wind sinks its teeth into you.

"Then die."

"If you're willing for her life to have no meaning. Die." The words he spits out are as cutting as the bitter wind. He feels cheated and you're finally able to come to your senses.

He's faired much worse but you doubt he's ever acted out the way you have in front of another person. In this never-ending void of darkness locking away the dull ache caused by deafening loss is the best choice for everyone.

Much like the night you had been sick he takes a grip of your jaw and directs your face towards his, this time he's not as gentle as before but you conclude that it's because he's drained, completely exhausted from the battle. The eyes are the windows to the soul but Levi's window panes are shattered, completely crushed by the weight of the constant burden he has to carry.

"I'm sorry." You croak out the apology. He grits his teeth because he doesn't want you to apologize but he doesn't voice out his opinion. As a substitute he presses his arms against you, the terribly raw panic is murdering you. Levi's gruff voice is a mixture of faux irritation but mutual understanding.

"Cry." He allows for your head to loll against his shoulder.

As the dark envelopes both you and him the scent of the dead only becomes more and more pungent, recalling fond memories of Petra and the others you know your heart settles on a decision before your mind does. You're a two timing back stabbing traitor for this. What you hated Zeke for you have become yourself.

Disloyal, unfaithful and fickle.

That day you place your loyalties with Paradis.

847, ii.

Levi's wiping down one of the kitchen tables, you're kneeled on the floor scrubbing vigorously. The others have already given up, panting they've left using the excuse of fetching water from a nearby well. Your back aches but you find cleaning reassuring and somewhat of a decent distraction.

"Why do you like to clean?" You're used to Levi asking you abrupt questions by now, after all the two of you have been acquainted for well over a year now. Through that year he's learnt about you and you about him. When in the midst of what looks to be humanity's final year's, twelve simple months is enough to form a bond worth a decade.

"I'm not good at a lot but I am good at cleaning."

"You know that's not true idiot." The tone of his voice indicates that your answer doesn't please him.

"But I do think I'm good at cleaning? Maybe not as good as you but I am half decent."

"Not that. You're good at much more than half the people I've ever met." He sneers, his footsteps edge towards you. "Purely being a good person is a talent these days."

You suppress a flinch because you aren't a good person at all. Neither are you that middle ground between good and bad. Rough around the edges and uneven, you're shards of glass ready to slash and hack away at him if Marley somehow lures you back.

The confession, if you could even call it that catches you by surprise and anger fills you. You almost want for him to not trust you and call out your bluff. It's a little unnatural how badly you want for him to realize the truth.

Your head turns up to stare at the man who's a few steps away from you. "Or am I just good at acting genuine?"

You don't even mean to snap at him and you don't even realize you have until you see his eyes widen and mouth part in imperceptible surprise. Biting your tongue your attention is diverted back to the wooden floor. Driving your washcloth into the crevices and dips of the floorboards you ignore Levi's leather shoes which now stand right in front of you.

"Are you questioning my judgement of character?"

Be born in Marley, That's what you had done, trained to destroy people you thought to be devilish entities, foolishly chose to grow attached to the so called enemy. Your mind lingers onto a specific thought and you're deathly afraid to be thinking it in the first place but there's no more avoiding it.

Falling deeply in love with Levi is your worst mistake to date.

"What I did. It was out of my control." you reply, voice hard.

"Not disclosing what it was?" He asks.

Your silence is his answer. Kneeling down to where you are he disarms you, the washcloth is taken out of your hands and he places it onto a table.

"You are a good person." His voice is brusque and he states it like it's a fact, something you should know. Hot tears threaten to spill over, he's stupidly naive for not rethinking that opinion of his. Lips thinned and eyes watering you don't know how to feel.

"Levi. I'm sure you'd like to think that but I am not."

"You love the members of the corps unconditionally I can see it in the way you look at them."

"Sometimes you look a little sad when you stare." The last sentence he adds in has your pulse racing. He's right, you often feel miserable thinking about how everyone would react knowing who you really are.

"I'm not interested in bad people." He sounds distant saying such warm words and it takes a moment for them to actually sink in. You don't quite believe you've heard him correctly. The dread sinks to the bottom of your stomach and the feelings you've buried at the back of your mind hit you like a tsunami. The thought of him feeling the same way for you, is agonizing.

"Stop being ridiculous." The uncertainty is killing the both of you.

"Loving you is not ridiculous, if you don't feel the same way you can say that and I'll step away. We'll be back to normal."

"No, no, no. You don't get it. You're just saying that." Your voice quivers and the intensity of this new revelation is too large for you to cope with.

"Why would, you," He begins, voice just above a whisper, "ever think that way?"

"Why would you even look twice at me?" You reply.

"Because I worry for you."

"You worry for everyone."

"I worry for you the most."

Instead of letting you respond to him this time he carries on speaking.

"We both know we feel the same."

You already knew you were in love with Levi, you didn’t need for him to tell you. You knew you were in love when you tried to memorize his facial features, you knew you were in love when his laughter was the cause of your laughter, you knew you were in love when you threw yourself in front of that abnormal for him.

That's when you begin to understand what all his signals meant. You now knew why he'd let you stare so intently, you now knew why he laughed particularly hard when it was you who had made a joke, you now knew why he scolded you and nearly broke down at the sight of your injured arm after that specific expedition.

You know it. He knows it. You both know what this will lead to.

But you still lunge onto his lap, you still press your wobbly lips against his. You still choose to surrender yourself to him and he still reacts by taking a hold of your shaky hands which lay on his chest. He envelopes them in his warm grasp. Slowly but gradually the ice thaws and dissolves. Heartbreak, anguish and suffering when one of you loses the other will be the end of your romance, you're sure of it. Hell, the both of you are in the middle of a war but your heart flames up thinking of all of the possibilities.

Perhaps it'll play out the one way you wish for it not to.

Could your ending be in betrayal?

848, i.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded hus-"

"Cut the crap and kiss me." Levi's crude interruption isn't appreciated by Erwin but everyone knows Levi doesn't care all that much for formalities and hates being in the spotlight for too long.

Gripping him by the collar of his suit your lips are a centimetre away, he stops you tightening the hold he has on your waist. His lips gently press against your collarbone and his breath meanders towards the shell of your ear.

"Swear you won't die on me."

Gulping you look away apprehensively. You know you can't promise that.

“Oi, I’m expecting an answer.” His voice flickers slightly.

Forefinger holding your chin up you see your soon to be husband close to tears, he valiantly blinks them away. Levi has never been one to make his pain public and your heart twists in your chest as you realize just how much of a hold his feelings for you have over him.

"I can't promise that, you know it'll only hurt more." The strange bitter taste in your mouth won't let you comply with his request and by measuring his reaction you see his eyes cloud in an unidentifiable emotion, you're sure it's nothing positive.

"We may not have a happy ending Levi but we'll always have a happy middle."

Levi scoffs in derision, he has to think your attempt at being meaningful is ridiculous.

You lean into him and it's all so heart-wrenchingly familiar yet foreign. His body sags comprehending that not everything will go the way he wants it to. One of you is guaranteed to leave first.

Hands finding purchase in the cloth of his white dress shirt Levi doesn't cringe at you creasing the fabric as he usually does. He allows for you to call the shots this time, your lips brush faintly against his before you nosedive into him. No resistance is felt and he replies almost immediately. Everyone applauds as his fingertips press into the back of your skull and you find that this is all incredibly hideous. The innate disloyalty you feel, you throwing your entire life away for this man but you find yourself not caring. To hell with that miserable life crammed with sin.

Levi smiles against your mouth, you assume you're meant to magically smile back but you can't make yourself. It's uncomfortable relishing in the undeserved happiness knowing it won't last forever.

The world you live in isn't ideal nor is it forgiving.

Momentary joy is all an antagonist can hope for.

849, i.

Jean can’t take his eyes off the newly weds.

You’re cooing into your Levi’s ear gently, his cheeks flush scarlet at the feeling of your hot breath against his skin and he scolds you for having the gall to rile him up in public.

Jean sniggers finding some sort of odd delight from the interaction - he’s never seen the Captain this content and at ease.

849, ii.

You don't know why you've dragged yourself out of bed just to stare at your husband's face but you have, despite the toll life has had on him he seems sound for once. His breathing peaceful yours is anything but that. When it's dark the weight becomes heavier, your skin tingles and your throat burns aching for release.

Eyes blurring your hands shake reaching out for him but you can't find the courage to make contact. Nothing will ever warrant plaguing him even more with your existence.

The memories become increasingly bitter.

"If we make it out of this alive we'll have children and they'll look just like you."

"I want them to look like you." had been your reply.

Levi winced not seeming to like the idea.

"No, I want them to look like you. You're beautiful."

How wrong he was for thinking that.

You, beautiful? He'd stab himself ten times over if he knew just who exactly he had said those words to.

850, i.

Zeke had betrayed you after finding out who you were to Levi but you half expected that he would tell him the truth at some point regardless of that fact.

Tear stains travel through the mud and grime on your face, Levi's eyes are indifferent as he twists his wedding ring off his finger flinging it into the surrounding rubble.

Without your permission he yanks your arm forwards intending to take your matching ring away but you hold on digging your heels into the dirt beneath you.

"You disgusting bitch. Give me it."

You scream, high and awful, he continues jerking at your arm the muscle throbs crying out for him to stop but he doesn't and no one steps in to put a halt to any of it. Levi having had enough grabs at your neck ruthlessly. In any other circumstance he'd be labelled callous or cruel but everyone on the battle field shares a similar empathy for their Captain. Neither they or Levi had expected your disloyalty.

"I said give me the ring if you know what's good for you." His fingers slide around your neck, his seemingly low words cling onto the little respect he has left for you.

"No." Your defiance has his eyes hardening in and posture tensing. "I'm not handing it over."

Levi says nothing, he only holds onto your throat tighter, if he really keeps at it your windpipe will be crushed in no time. You know he's holding out on purpose, he's still giving you a chance. He expects for you to stand your ground, say you never deceived Paradis, say something, anything to make him let go of you.

"Marrying you... It just happened somehow. I know it was selfish of me." He squeezes harder. "I know it was. I'm sorry Levi." Gasping and breathless you clench and unclench your fists finding it too difficult to explain.

Your mouth opens, you want to tell him you haven't seduced him like he thinks you have, tell him you dropped that plan of yours long ago but then you falter at the last second. It's typically hard to tell when Erwin's infuriated but it's painfully obvious when you make eye contact with him over Levi's trembling shoulders. It's enough to tell you to give up. Enough to tell you that you're beyond redemption, you've ran and hid long enough.

"Hand over your titan." Levi says nothing to Erwin's proposition, the hold he has on your neck loosens but his silence is sickening. It means he agrees.

This is fate's idea of a cruel joke.

But you agree, on the basis of one condition.

"Fine but-"

Levi cuts in, all regard for you devoid from his system.

"You're in no place to be making demands." He snarls, his patience quickly running thin.

However Erwin urges you to continue speaking taking you aback.

"If it's not too much maybe we can accommodate your final wish." Erwin had always been thoughtful in nature and you thank him for even bothering to show you a sliver of benevolence.

Everyone's looking, all eyes are on you. Some are blinking away tears, others are disgusted unable to stare at you for more than a few seconds at a time. Levi falls into the latter.

Brazen with not an ounce of shame you mention the ring again. "Let me keep it." Your left hand covers your right and underneath the flesh is the last symbol left of your union with Levi.

Whispers and murmurs orbit you, none of them are kind and Levi loses it.

His reflexes are paralyzing, he's back at it clawing your neck mercilessly but you don't scream or shriek as you did previously. You take it, you let him unload his frustration.

"Levi. Let it go for the sake of humanity." Erwin says pointedly. Irritation pricks him, he wants this over and done with and your rebelliousness doesn't look as if it'll be tamed any time soon unless you're given what you want.

Levi's face is crimson, the fresh blood from the expedition still steaming. "Y/N, I'll saw your arm off if I have to." But, you know he's already given into Erwin's orders when he throws you to the ground letting you crash and wheeze for breath.

850, ii.

Levi's been appointed to guard you for your final night alive. The room feels wistful as you think back wondering if the life you lived was respectable.

"Why did you stare at me when I slept? Did you think of killing me?" Half commanding and half pleading his voice cracks. He coughs attempting to cover it up.

You jolt not expecting the interaction at all and you're not the slightest bit surprised that he had seen you all those nights staring so deeply. He'd always been a light sleeper. You turn your head up hoping he's looking at you.

He isn't.

"I wanted our children to look like you. I think you're beautiful."

It's now his turn to recoil, only he does so in repulsion remembering the familiarity of those words. They had left his own lips not too long ago.

"I'd never have children with the likes of you." He sounds tense then.

You understand. No one would want to have children with someone as hated and as despicable as you.

"I know." You whisper faintly.

850, iii.

When Erwin's eyes glaze over unable to focus on anything in particular Levi assumes it's him growing used to the titan powers. What he doesn't expect is for his Commander to bang his head against the floor unrelenting screaming your name.

Pairs of hands move to stop him but he thrusts them aside wailing. Levi stresses trying to figure out what it is you could have done in the wake of your death.

But Erwin Smith. Courageous, brave Erwin Smith, who never cracked at loss of life for the sake of humanity, who always eloquently spoke to everyone around him at all times, finds himself slumping down to his knees and weeping for you.

The warm blood from his self inflicted assault still trickles down his nose, a tremor shakes through his entire body when he thinks of breaking the news to Levi.

The edge in Erwin’s voice grows dangerous.

"We made the wrong choice."

Erwin can't word it any better than that.

But Levi understands right away, he wishes he didn’t, he wishes he was ignorant enough not to.

Hange sticks an arm out aiming for his shoulder but he stumbles away nearly falling back into the floor not wanting to be touched by anyone.

He finds that he is not human enough to cry. It’s that or he’s not human at all without your presence.

854, i.

Levi has grown old without you, lived to see months and new seasons without you by his side. Over time his eyelids have become heavier, the corners of his mouth naturally droop and he remains perpetually somber.

Sometimes you visit him in his dreams, each time you make a silly comment about how his grey eye bags make him look like he’s been punched in the face. “Levi Ackerman, I swear if you don’t sleep soon!” You cushion the blow by whispering sweet nothings, reassuring him that you still think he’s beautiful.

Occasionally you add in that you don’t blame him for the past, but those conversations only last for a few seconds at a time.

“I don’t blame you.” It always starts off with the exact same phrase.

“I should have listened to you.” Levi’s tone is stern and uncompromising .

“Lev, I was never going to tell you to spare my life. You tried to listen to me, I could tell you wanted me to deny it.”

Levi refuses to answer you, he still thinks he’s at fault.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of that ring. He regrets throwing it away recklessly into the rubble.

Some day he’ll return to Shiganshina to find it. The idea sounds laughable but he has to find a reason to smile as he fights for his life.

That is what Levi thinks as two set’s of jaws snap shut onto his legs, a flurry of red surrounds him. His throat constricts at the feeling of his thighs being ripped away from the rest of him.

“I tried.” He whimpers to no one in particular, eyes blank and losing meaning.

“I know Levi, I know.” The same voice from his dreams soothes him.

“Do not despair. Find me again in another world.” The biting wind adds in.

Levi’s eyelids flutter shut unable to do much else.

He’s unsure if he has the courage to face you again in another lifetime.

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seijorhi · 4 years

Text

The Fall

Somebody said Devil Kuroo and I have not recovered since. Anyway, enjoy my first offering for the Spooktober event!

Kuroo Tetsurou x Female Reader

TW Dub/non-con, blood, gore, minor character death, religious themes, nsfw, mild smut

It’s subtle, the shift in the air as two polished black shoes cross the threshold. The candles on the altar spit and sputter, and a shiver trickles down your spine.

You wonder if the humans scattered along the pews can sense it too, if they can taste the bitter, metallic tang in the air, feel the same prickling sensation at the nape of their necks as tiny hairs stand on end. The woman seated two rows in front of you stiffens, her breath catching between her sobbed prayers, but she doesn’t turn and neither do you.

Do they have any idea the evil that’s trespassing on holy ground? The danger that they’re all in - the danger that you’ve inadvertently brought upon them?

This is all your fault.

His footsteps, slow and measured echo mockingly throughout the nave, but you’re rooted in place. It’s instinctual, you think; the fear that sinks its claws into your heart, seeping into your veins like ice.

There is nowhere left for you to run.

You have no more aces hidden up your sleeves.

The wards that protected you, kept you safe and hidden for years are broken, and your friends-

Blood slicked floors, body parts strewn across your apartment. A howling scream pierces the air around you, and it takes a moment to realise that it belongs to you. You fall to your knees, bile rising in your throat as you stare in wide eyed horror at the grisly mess he’d left in his wake.

He could have killed them with a snap of his fingers, but he’d taken his time, hurt them, ripped the spines from their bodies slowly, keeping them alive as they screamed and begged through tears and snot and blood and vomit…

He’d left them for you to find like a gruesome homecoming gift. Punishment, you think, for daring to hide you from him.

It’s late, well past midnight. The only people in the crumbling, dilapidated church at this hour are those with nowhere else to go. Vagrants, the helpless, those lost to grief and addiction seeking the barest semblance of comfort amongst the burning incense, high ceilings and grimy, stained glass windows.

And you.

Though you suppose you fit into the former. Where else could hope to hide now that your sanctuary has been torn to pieces? This is the last place you’d choose to go, even now the long healed scars on your shoulder blades sting and burn, a painful and persistent reminder that you no longer belong amongst these hallowed halls.

Foolishly, you’d still come. Consecrated ground was supposed to protect you, however temporarily.

He shouldn’t be here. He can’t be here, it’s not possible, but-

Dressed in a crisp black suit with a blood red tie, the handsome figure settles himself down on the pew beside you. A smirk curls at his lips as he stretches long legs, crossing his ankles and leisurely fixing the sleeves of his jacket as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

You don’t dare draw breath. Sitting stiff and ramrod straight, you stare at your trembling hands curled into fists on your lap, the ancient golden pendant lying broken in your palm. There’s dried blood smeared across the back of your hands, flecks and splatters hidden among the dark fabric of your skirt. The sight of it makes your stomach churn.

His chin tilts, golden, cat-like pupils settling on you. You fight the urge to fidget, to flee, fingernails biting into the soft, delicate skin of your palm as he studies you.

“Hey, angel,” he purrs, his voice like warm honey. “It’s been a while.”

Finally you tear your eyes away from your lap, meeting his smirk with an icy glare. “Don’t call me that,” you snap bitterly.

He laughs, stretching back to drape his arm over the wooden backrest of the pew, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulders. “But I like calling you angel, and I’ve missed you.” The last part is growled, a low and rumbling timbre, too deep, too rich to be mistaken for anything close to human. It makes your hackles rise and your stomach clench uneasily. Unbidden, memories flash to your mind- his teeth at your neck, his sweat slicked body moving atop yours. Unbearable, searing heat flooding your core, large hands encircling yours to hold you down as his hips eagerly rut up against your ass, “Give into me, angel, you know you want to.”

His grin widens, and you know that it’s deliberate.

You don’t have the luxury of anger, not when the fear so visceral it threatens to choke you demands attention. He’s smiling amiably, but you’re not so naive as to believe that he’s not furious with you, that there won’t be punishments that await you for your escape.

One hundred and twenty years might pass in the blink of an eye for him, but it wouldn’t make a difference if it were only one, or even a single month, a day. You ran from him, and for every moment you were not at his side he would make you suffer - excruciating pain inflicted with pleasure until your mind broke and you couldn’t distinguish the two, until you were a babbling, beautiful mess begging for mercy.

Until you regretted ever even considering leaving his side after all that he’d done to keep you there.

He’d promised you as much a long time ago, hissing the threat into your ear as he forced you to ride his cock.

You’d fled anyway. And now, you’re trapped with nowhere left to run, and he knows it just as well as you do. But it’s not yourself that you’re scared for.

There will be plenty of time for that later.

Six innocent, oblivious humans dot the derelict pews, and the Father you’d watched tend to the burning candles and incense at the altar, meeting your stricken gaze for just a moment before returning to the task at hand.

It is for their sakes that you are afraid.

“A church, angel?” he sounds amused. “You know, I expected you to run after you found the dead witch and her partner, but here?” he tuts, shaking his head with a sigh. Pain, raw and visceral stabs at your heart and your shoulders shake with barely concealed anger, hands clenched so tight that blood seeps from the crescent shaped cuts in your palm. He eyes the gold pendant flecked with crimson in your grip, and for the first moment since he arrived, you watch that cavalier facade slip - a flicker of something dark and jealous twisting at his features. “They were the ones who kicked you out, don’t you remember? They ripped those lovely wings-”

“You tricked me, Kuroo! You lied!” the words spill from your tongue before you can hope to stop them. His golden eyes widen for a split second, surprised by your outburst, but it only lasts a moment before he’s smirking indulgently at you once more. Too late you realise your slip. The devil has a thousand names, but Kuroo was the one he gave when he first came to you.

You haven’t uttered that name in almost two hundred years.

“Did you think that the grace of God would protect you here, angel?” He slides closer, long, nimble fingers plucking the cross from your hands only to cast it aside. The faint metallic clinking as it falls and clatters across the marble floors makes you flinch, but he pays it no mind. “Did you truly believe that there is an ounce of anything holy left in this crumbling, decrepit shithole? And even if there were,” he pauses, leaning down to whisper in your ear as a warm palm slides up your thigh, “did you really think that would be enough to keep me from you?”

“K-Kuroo,” you gasp as he leans down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, his mouth laving wet, hot, open mouthed kisses against the delicate skin there. His fingers delve under the hem of your skirt and it’s pure, unadulterated fear that hits you like a tidal wave, compelling you against your better instincts to claw at his wrist, halting him in his tracks.

He stills, warm breath fanning across your skin as he exhales sharply, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The flames from the candles on the altar sputter once more before they swell with frightening intensity, surging as the temperature in the chapel spikes.

“Angel,” he purrs lowly, the barest hint of an underlying threat lacing the endearment, and it feels as though there’s an invisible hand inside of your chest, clenching around your frantically beating heart. It’s a mistake, you know that even as his other hand reaches for your chin, gripping it tightly as he forces you to meet his molten gaze. “If you keep denying me what I want, I will raze this fucking church to the ground and let them all burn.”

This time you don’t so much as flinch when he tugs your panties to the side, rough fingertips brushing teasingly along your slit. “You’re going to let me defile you, sweet thing. You’re going to remember why you fell for me.”

His eyes are blown wide, dark pupils almost swallowing the gilded irises. Gone is the perfectly crafted human facade - this is the beast that lurks beneath, and you have run from him for long enough. Your heart hammers against your ribs, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, fighting back a shiver as he tracks the movement with predatory focus. You know as well as he does that the games are over, and you have lost.

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to run, but you cannot move.

His breath is ragged, a flush of pink dusting at his cheek as he stares at you, an unholy desire burning in those bottomless depths.

One beat passes, and then another-

He closes the gap between you two, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss isn’t sweet. It isn’t tender, but it sets you alight nonetheless. Without warning his fingers plunge into your plush, velvet walls and you gasp for him, clutching at his jacket sleeve.

“And when I take you, fuck you on these floors until you sing for me, angel, you’re going to love every second of it,” he snarls.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo tetsurou #yandere kuroo tetsuro x reader #Devil!Kuroo #supernatural AU #spooktober #tw non con #tw dub con #tw blood #tw gore #tw minor character death #religious themes #sacreligious #just a little #religious symbolism #slight smut #pls don't let this flop or i'll cry :)

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poor-baby-bangtan · 3 years

Note

i was wondering if you could do something snz-centric with jungkook. like a cold or flu. hes just so adorable and im too much of a sucker of bts taking care of him in fics. (also im so happy youre back and well, you're one of my favourite bangtan sickfic writers here on tumblr ^^)

I hope you enjoy!

Sickie: jeongguk

Caretakers: Namjoon and Seokjin

Words: 6,853

Themes: snz, fever, hurt/comfort

"Ht'tschu!"

By the fifth time that Jeongguk had to tear himself away from the recording equipment to sneeze almost violently into his hands, Namjoon was ready to call it quits for the day. The pair had been finishing up some backing vocals for a nearly-completed song - it was only a bit of harmonization, nothing extreme or extravagant. Jeongguk had always been the best with harmonizing, especially in a higher pitch, so Namjoon figured that he would layer the maknae's hidden track over it first just to get a feel for the way it sounded.

But Jeongguk was barely able to get through any of his lines or simple melodies without having to turn around to sneeze or clear his throat. And now that Namjoon thought about it, his voice did sound a bit rough around the edges and maybe even a little congested if he listened closely enough to his dongsaeng's voice blasting through his headphones. And, above all, he couldn't get through a track that he would have aced any other day. It was nearing 1 AM and the maknae looked tired, stressed, and sick behind the mic.

"JK," he called through the slightly-opened door beyond the large built-in window between them (purely to keep unwanted sounds out of the recording). "You okay?"

Jeongguk sniffed and rubbed at his nose with a knuckle, ears reddening slightly at the sudden attention. Namjoon found it incredibly endearing that, despite living together for just shy of seven years, he still managed to get embarrassed over minor stuff like that.

"Yeah, I'm alright, hyung. I'm sorry, I know you wanted this finished quickly," he managed, staring at the open mic in front of him with obvious frustration and guilt, the tip of his bunny nose pink with mild irritation.

Namjoon stood and took off his bulky headphones, joining him in the adjacent room and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Gguk, it's not your fault." The maknae sniffled again but didn't say anything, looking so pitifully sad as his eyes wandered around the floor. "Are you wearing a new cologne or anything? New shampoo?" Namjoon knew how sensitive their youngest was to smells - his perfume of choice was actually faint and made for women and he wore it for the sole purpose of it not irritating his sinuses. Even a change in shampoo, conditioner, or hair spray had a tendency to trigger Jeongguk's rhinitis flare-ups.

Jeongguk shook his head. "No, everything's been the same, Joon-hyung. I don't know why it's like this."

The rapper chewed at his lip worriedly, running a hand through the younger man's soft hair. "You think you're getting sick, babe?" Namjoon chose to break out the pet names now - it helped break Jeongguk out of that shy, nervous, I'm-grown-up-so-I-can-handle-everything-myself shell he always tried to adopt.

"Hih-H'tshhuh! T'cHh!"

Jeongguk didn't have time to reply before he was pitching forward to sneeze twice into his elbow, leaning back with a little groan. Namjoon chuckled quietly and rubbed the maknae's back as he sniffled and scrubbed at his nose with his sleeve. "I think that might be a yes."

The maknae sighed, rubbing at his brow like he had a headache. "I don't want to be."

Namjoon just tutted and put his palm to the younger man's forehead, frowning when he felt the slightest bit of heat underneath his hand. He wasn't flushed and didn't feel too warm, but he always ran hot when he was coming down with something. "I don't think you have a choice in this one, Gguk-ah."

"But hyung," Jeongguk whined, looking up at him with his big doe eyes, "I can't get sick right now. We have so much stuff to do and I'm already making you stay late-"

"Hey, no," he shushed. "You're not holding back anything. We have work, sure, but it's not anything that we can't push back a few days for you. This is the lightest our schedule has been for a while, so don't stress about it, okay?" Namjoon smiled faintly, running his fingers once more through Jeongguk's fringe. "And you're not keeping me here doing anything. We could have been doing this next week or even not at all; this is optional just to test the sound, you know that."

Jeongguk nodded, sniffling again for good measure. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled, still disappointed and very much not convinced.

"Why don't we go ahead and head home? It's late," Namjoon yawned, stretching, all an act just to get the maknae to not protest leaving just like the rapper knew he would. He had always been the hardest one to take care of - most of the others eventually gave in and let themselves be coddled. But, nope, not Jeongguk. He would put up a fight until he was passed out or in the hospital, something that his hyungs tried relentlessly to keep from happening. No matter how much they drilled into his head that you need to talk to us, Gguk or you can tell us anything, Gguk, it seemed like the kid never listened. Despite the fact that he had recently turned twenty-one, he had absolutely zero skills in the self-care department.

Jeongguk nodded and Namjoon marked that as a big success on his part. "Okay." He patted his pockets a few times before sighing. "Let me find my keys first."

That's right. He drove us here this morning.

"No that's okay, Gguk. I'd rather call a cab." Namjoon wasn't sure if he really wanted his maknae driving while sick, and at midnight nonetheless. He was already a little reckless behind the wheel on the best of days and the last thing they needed was him having a cold (or worse yet, flu) on top of that. The leader silently cursed himself that he hadn't gotten around to getting his license yet (and tried not to be embarrassed that the youngest of his group had to drive him around despite the age gap).

"No, I'm fine, hyung. I can drive," Jeongguk protested, looking just a little too eager to prove himself and that he was indeed okay. "I can.. d-dr- hhitsHh!"

He was interrupted by another sneeze, though, pitching forward, bent at the waist from the strength of it. He slowly straightened upwards, hands still cupped around his face. Namjoon took the hint and passed him a tissue, which Jeongguk hesitantly took as if he were almost too prideful to take it. He usually was, and the rapper was thankful that it was late in the evening. A tired Jeongguk was an obedient Jeongguk.

"I know you can, Ggukkie, but I'd rather just call someone. It's late and we're both tired; I'd feel better if we had a cab or a manager come pick us up. Besides, we're here every day. We can pick up your car another day, yeah?"

Jeongguk wiped his nose with the tissue and threw it away, sighing. "Okay. Is Sejin-nim still here?"

"Let me text him. Go ahead and put your coat on."

The maknae nodded and went to retrieve his hoodie as Namjoon fumbled with his phone.

Joon: Hyung-nim, are you still in the building?

Cool manager hyung: yeah I'm about to leave. need a ride?

He smiled at how Sejin already knew what he needed before he had the chance to say anything about it.

Joon: yeah, me and Ggukie are finishing up in the studio.

Joon: do you mind dropping us off?

Manager hyung: of course, it's on the way anyways. but I thought Jeongguk drove you two here..?

Joon: yeahh but I think he's coming down with something. don't want him on the roads right now ~_~;

Manager hyung: aishhhh why am i not surprised

Manager hyung: that kid always pushes himself too hard

Manager hyung: meet me outside in 10. i'll stop by the pharmacy tomorrow.

Joon: thank you Sejin-hyung :))

By the time Namjoon looked up from his phone, Jeongguk had pulled his hoodie on and was scrubbbing at his nose with one of the sleeves, sniffling weakly. The hoodie was a couple sizes too large and hung low around mid-thigh. He had balled up his hands inside of the sleeves, making rather adorable sweater paws with them. His nose was now red, morphing from the innocent pink tinge that it had held for most of the night, and his eyes looked a little far-off and watery. Namjoon tried his best not to make a sound of endearment and simply pocketed his phone, reaching out and squeezing his dongsaeng's shoulder.

"Sejin-nim is gonna pull up out front for us."

"'Kay," the maknae mumbled, looking exhausted despite himself. Hopefully it wouldn't be hard to get some medicine in him and put him to bed.

Sejin held true to his word; his car was already warm and running by the time the pair made it downstairs. Namjoon crawled into the backseat with Jeongguk instead of taking his usual place up front. Jeongguk didn't seem to mind, or even notice for that matter, as he put on his seatbelt and yawned into his hand. Namjoon caught Sejin's knowing smirk in the rear view mirror, though, and felt his face heat up.

He wasn't one of the most doting members but he still cared, alright?

Sejin started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "How's the song looking, boys?"

"It's going great, Sejin-nim," Namjoon smiled. "Jeongguk is really blowing it out of the water." He reached over and ruffled Jeongguk's hair lightly. Jeongguked smiled that cute smile he does, lips barely pulling back to preview his bunny teeth, eyes scrunching gently around the edges, and it was all Namjoon could do to not make a noise like a variation of a dying animal. That kid does something to his heart that should not be legal. The maknae pushed his hand away and he let him, reaching down to intertwine their fingers and rest them on his thigh instead.

Sejin chuckled deep and throaty, smiling in the rearview mirror. "Just as usual, huh?"

"Yep." Namjoon ran his thumb over Jeongguk's knuckles. "Golden maknae here always does his best."

Jeongguk ducked his head and smiled, teasing his lower lip with his teeth, ears going a bit red. He had never been able to take a compliment without getting embarrassed. "Thanks, hyung."

"Aish, don't thank me kid." Namjoon swore his heart was about to burst. His maknae really was just too sweet without knowing it.

Jeongguk was opening his mouth to say something back but stopped short, getting a far-off look in his eyes as his jaw hung slack. His nose twitched and scrunched several times with the effort not to sneeze; his breath hitched several times as his breathing quickened. He was not able to quell the feeling, though, and sneezed openly onto his lap before he could react.

"Hih.. hh-huh-H'itsxhu! Ht'scHh! Es'cHischh!"

He tore his hand from Namjoon's as he caught the second and third that came with it. They sounded increasingly intense and painful, and Namjoon winced in sympathy.

Sejin sucked in air through his teeth sharply as Jeongguk slowly brought his hands away from his face and sniffled in retaliation a few times. "You feeling okay, kid?" He pulled up at a red light and looked him over in the rear view mirror. "That sounded kind of bad."

Namjoon was glad that Sejin chose not to mention the fact that he had already told him Jeongguk wasn't feeling his best. Jeongguk would have been eternally embarrassed and probably would deny his hyung's help for a while. He had a strange trust system and Sejin seemed to know that.

Jeongguk snuffed once more against the increasing stuffiness in his sinuses before replying. "Yes, I'm okay Sejin-nim, thank you."

Namjoon withheld a sigh and put a hand on Jeongguk's thigh. Always so closed off and shy. Of course, he loved his maknae and wouldn't change his personality for anything. But sometimes he wished he would open up a little more and be a little more trusting to those around him. He had opened up to his band mates after a while, of course, but it was still hard for even them to get through to him at times. Jeongguk could be silly and goofy and just himself wherever he was, but when it came to showing any form of weakness it was like he retreated as far back into his shell as he could get. It was a constant inner struggle for him, realizing that he's still human and needs to treat himself as such. Even one (1) voice crack during a performance can drive him to tears. Weakness and mistakes are just not something that he tolerates with himself, as sad as it makes Namjoon. He's never really as concerned with Jeongguk's physical condition as much as he is with his psychological one when his health dips.

Sejin sighed quietly enough for Jeongguk to miss it and pulled up as the light turned green again. "If you're sure. Just let me know if that changes, okay, Jeongguk-ah?"

"Yes, hyung-nim." Namjoon could hear the gratefulness in the maknae's voice, even if he most likely would not accept the help.

"Aish, kid, always so formal," Sejin grumbled playfully. He had long stopped trying to get Jeongguk to drop the honorifics. They were fond and playful now more than anything.

Jeongguk made that happy noise in the back of his throat that he tended to do, sort of like a mix between a laugh and a endearing huff, and replied, "Of course, Sejin-ssi."

"Ack!" Sejin waved one of his hands in the air dismissively. "That's worse!"

Jeongguk chuckled, fully this time, with a grin that split his whole face and made his eyes squint. He seemed tired, but happy still - probably wasn't feeling too bad, then.

The trio fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the trip. Namjoon could feel that they were all tired - reasonably so, it was past 1am - and if he was being honest he was ready to do nothing more than just crash in bed when he got home. But his maknae still needed to be taken care of, because he certainly wasn't going to take medicine on his own.

The pair said their goodbyes to Sejin after he pulled up outside of their apartment, with the older man giving Namjoon a knowing wink as a way to say good luck with that one. Namjoon just laughed and waved him off. He knew how to handle his maknae.

Jeongguk stumbled inside, already half-asleep from the car ride, and made his way into the bathroom. Namjoon veered towards the kitchen where their medicine cabinet was and dug around for a few minutes looking for some sort of cold medicine or anti-congestant. He came up with a half-empty blister packet of a nighttime cold medicine which was about the best he could have hoped to find. With the winter, colds had been going around the members quite often and it was around that time of the year that they were constantly running low on medicines. That, and it would help Jeongguk sleep more soundly - even though he usually slept a lot (like, a lot) when he was sick, it was never very deeply and it left him still feeling exhausted, even after he was healthy again.

Namjoon popped a few blue gel-capped pills into his hand and filled up a glass of ice water as he heard the shower come on, sighing when he realized he also still needed to shower. But then he had a thought... why wait? He'd rather keep an eye on his dongsaeng anyways.

Setting the pills and glass on the counter, Namjoon made his way other to the bathroom and poked his head in. "Mind if I join you, Ggukkie?" he called.

"Sure, hyung," came Jeongguk's reply, rough around the edges and tired. Even though he had been living with roommates for many years, he still erred to the shy side, especially when it came to being undressed around others. But, if he was tired enough or felt bad enough, he tended to care less about exposure and more about having company and skinship.

At his response, Namjoon stepped into the bathroom and quietly closed the door behind him, quickly stripping down and pulling back the shower curtain to step under the warm stream of water. Jeongguk stepped over to make room for him (thankfully they finally had enough money for an apartment with several large bathrooms with large tubs and showers, so both of them comfortably fit). The water was a tad too hot, probably because the younger was feeling chilled from being out in the cold, even if they were just walking from the car to their door. Or that's what Namjoon hoped - he was praying the kid wasn't cold because a fever was coming on. He did his best to ignore it, though.

Jeongguk was just beginning to shampoo his hair, eyes droopy and tired. He sniffled once, and then twice - the steam was probably helping with his congestion. Namjoon struggled against a fond little smile and reached over to shampoo his dongsaeng's hair himself. Jeongguk didn't even argue and dropped his hands immediately to his sides. His eyes fluttered closed as his hyung worked the product into his hair, swaying with the motion. He sighed a long, drawn-out breath and leaned into Namjoon's touch, mouth just barely hanging open like a puppy's when receiving a good scratch.

"You're not allowed to ever stop that, hyung," he mumbled, words thick with exhaustion and groggy, eyes still closed. Namjoon laughed again and massaged the base of his scalp.

"We'll see about that, kiddo." He worked the suds through Jeongguk's long hair (wow, it had really gotten lengthy, hadn't it?) and took a second to admire the youngest's features. Even when he was feeling under the weather, his face was still radiant and beautiful. His skin was perfectly blemished, a healthy tan (how could anyone ever want to whitewash him?), and the resting-exhaustion-pout glued to his expression made him look younger and more adorable than ever. As Namjoon guided his head underneath the stream of water, he took a second to appreciate how lucky he was to have Jeongguk as his dongsaeng.

Jeongguk preened under the warm water, melting under it as it met his skin. He looked half-asleep. Namjoon fondly tapped his cheek, to which he opened his eyes; the older man smirked. He was just about to say something teasing when Jeongguk's face screwed up and he hitched, pitching forward catching it in his elbow.

"Hh- hh'itschiew!"

He sniffled a few times as he straightened up, keeping his elbow to his face as he coughed a couple times into it. Namjoon felt his chest tighten and eyebrows pinch together.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay Ggukkie?" He ran his hands through the younger's hair once more, scratching at the base of his neck. Jeongguk just nodded and coughed one more time before dropping his arm, pushing even further into his hyung's touch. But he didn't say anything or respond verbally at all. He was probably feeling too tired to even try and debate about his health. Namjoon just sighed and reached for his own shampoo, quickly lathering up his silver-blonde hair. "I have some medicine laid out for you. Let's just finish up so you can take it and we can get you to bed, hmm?"

Jeongguk only nodded sleepily once more, fumbling for the conditioner. Namjoon once again took over washing his dongsaeng's hair as soon as he had finished with his own; Jeongguk was seriously lagging behind as he struggled to stay awake underneath the stream of hot water. After rinsing out the remaining conditioner from the younger's hair, Namjoon passed over the body wash, turning the maknae around so he could wash his back. Soon enough, though, they were both toweling off and clumsily dressing in sleepwear. Jeongguk groaned when Namjoon pulled out the hairdryer.

"Hyung, can we please just skip that? I want to sleep," he whined, lip protruding in a cute little pout in an attempt to win his hyung over.

"Nope, no way. You're already getting sick and the last thing we need is it getting worse because you went to bed with cold, wet hair. Turn around and sit on the counter if you want."

Jeongguk huffed, annoyed, but did as he was told anyways. Namjoon pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead before brushing through the younger's hair and turning on the blow-dryer. Now the maknae was actually falling asleep, head lolling down several times before he woke himself up and jerked himself back upright. Namjoon bit back a smile as he continued to blow dry his hair, overwhelmed by fondness. By the time his hair was dry, Jeongguk was passed out, mouth hanging open and cheek pressed against his shoulder. At the sound of the dryer turning off Jeongguk stirred, blearily opening his eyes and blinking several times to focus them.

"'M done?"

"Yeah, kiddo. Hop down and we'll go take your medicine."

Jeongguk fixed him with a groggy glare. "You didn't dry your hair."

Namjoon chuckled and winked. "I'm too tired, I guess."

The younger slid off the countertop and headbutted his hyung in the chest; evidently he was too tired to pick his head up, so he let it rest on Namjoon's sternum as he weakly hit him with a closed fist. "You're the worst, Namjoon-hyung," he mumbled, no real heat behind the words.

He just chuckled in response and wrapped an arm around his dongsaeng's shoulders, leading him out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. "Oh yes, I'm just terrible for looking after my maknae," Namjoon said as he passed Jeongguk the pills from where they were on the counter, holding up the glass to the younger's lips. Jeongguk mumbled faux-angrily under his breath as he tossed the pills into his mouth and let Namjoon give him a drink of water to wash them down. Namjoon took the glass with him as the guided the younger down the hallway and into their shared room, setting it down onto the nightstand.

Jeongguk belly-flopped onto Namjoon's bed with a big sigh, stretched out parallel to the headrest. He grumbled incoherently into the duvet and stilled completely. Namjoon huffed a laugh and slapped him lightly on the back of the thigh.

"Come on, Gguk-ah, move over so we can both fit. That's right, get under the covers." Jeongguk sighed and grumbled again at his words, lazily re-correcting himself to lay properly on the bed. Namjoon lifted up the covers for him and the maknae crawled obediently between the sheets, settling in on his side with his feet curled up in a half-fetal position. The older man climbed in after him on the opposite side of the bed, turning off the bedside lamp and pulling up the duvet over the both of them. He reached over and adjusted the covers to below Jeongguk's chin, effectively tucking him in. As he got settled in himself, Jeongguk squirmed his way to Namjoon's chest, cold nose feeling over his collar bone. The rapper intertwined a leg with the younger's, wincing at his freezing toes, and slung an arm around his slim waist. For a few seconds, it was just the quiet sound of the AC and the feeling of the maknae's chest rising and falling against his own, warm breaths puffing against his neck. Jeongguk's long locks tickled against his cheek.

"Th'nk you, hyung," Jeongguk slurred against his collarbone, sounding sleepy and content but more congested than he had previously. Namjoon just gave a low rumble and pressed a hand to his maknae's forehead. A little warm, but that was probably just from the combined heat of the shower and hairdryer.

"Of course, you don't have to thank me, Gguk." He pressed a kiss into the younger's hair. "How're you feeling, jaigya?" Namjoon's brow contorted in concern as Jeongguk shivered a little in his arms and sniffled against his t-shirt.

Jeongguk just gripped his shirt a little tighter and nosed further into the crook of his hyung's neck and mumbled, "Shh, hyung, sleepy t'me, shhh..." His breaths became a little deeper as he fell further into the grasp of sleep, the small rushes of air sending goosebumps over Namjoon's olive skin. "No m're talkin'," he murmured, sounding as if he were barely hanging onto the last dregs of consciousness.

Namjoon pressed a kiss to his forehead before relaxing back into his pillow, fingers drawing invisible pictures onto the younger's back. "M'kay, babe." Namjoon figured he had been awake long enough - it was nearing 3am and he was feeling sick, there was no point in keeping him up any later than he needed to be. He could always check up on him in the morning. Plus, Namjoon thought he had done a pretty good job of taking care of his maknae thus far - a little questioning could wait. "Goodnight, aeghi. Saranghae."

Namjoon was only barely able to hear the whispered reply of "Joon-hyung, saranghae," before the youngest promptly fell asleep in his arms.

xxx

As expected, Jeongguk was restless during the night. He never really woke up but tossed and turned all the same, occasionally making sleepy noises and sighs against his hyung's neck. He never slept particularly well when he was unwell, which was something Namjoon knew was going to happen. That being said, the older man didn't get much sleep either. He was hyper-vigilant and woke up every time his maknae so much as stirred. Namjoon was exhausted, seeing as he had several late nights in a row, but somehow he didn't seem to mind this time. As the night went on, though, Jeongguk seemed to still, back pressed up against his hyung's chest. Namjoon woke up a few hours later to light streaming through the window and Seokjin knocking at the door to wake them up up. The rapper stirred and stretched, inhaling sharply. It felt like he had hardly slept, but it was already 8am.

Jeongguk still lay quiet as the little spoon, curled up into Namjoon's stomach. His body was radiating heat and he was breathing laboriously through his mouth. Namjoon swore and peeled back the covers, pressing a hand to the younger's forehead; he found it to be hot to the touch. His tan skin shone with sweat and his face was particularly pale aside from the flush of his cheeks. Along with that, he was shivering a little in his sleep, brows contorted into a painful grimace. Namjoon dropped his hand and sighed; he knew this was going to happen.

The older man tucked his maknae back into the covers before getting up himself, sighing once more. He made sure Jeongguk was still asleep as he left the room. Seokjin was in the kitchen brewing coffee from the Kurig, watching with tired eyes as the bitter liquid slowly filled his cup. Namjoon approached him from behind and wrapped his hands around the older man's slim waist, burying his face in a broad shoulder and pressing down hard with his forehead.

Seokjin chuckled and patted his arm. "What's this, Namjoon-ah?"

"Jeonggukie's sick," he grumbled into the fabric of the singer's sleep shirt, getting a whiff of his fabric softener in the process. Seokjin always smelled so nice. The younger man could feel the other craning his head to look at him so Namjoon picked his head up and rested his chin on his shoulder instead, meeting Seokjin's gaze. "It came on last night," Namjoon sighed. "He was restless all night and when I woke up he was running a fever."

Seokjin maneuvered out of his arms, turning around to face his dongsaeng and tracing the pads of his thumbs over Namjoon's eye-bags with a concerned crease in his brow. "Are you sure you didn't get it, too? You look awful, jaigya. You're pale."

"No, hyung, I feel fine. Maknae-ah just kept me up with all his tossing and turning."

Seokjin got a smug look on his face, smirking.

"What?" Namjoon deadpanned. He was too tired for this.

"Well," Seokjin drawled. "You're usually such a heavy sleeper. Worried about our youngest, are you?"

Namjoon felt his ears go hot with embarrassment. What's the deal with people, first Sejin, now Seokjin was teasing him? Unbelievable. "With all due respect hyung, shut up. Just because I don't show it as much as you do I actually do care about my maknae," Namjoon spat, pushing away against his hyung's chest and trying to walk past him, annoyed. Seokjin's squeaky laughter followed him and he was stopped by the older man catching his wrist.

"I'm just kidding Joonie, don't get so defensive," he giggled, drawing the younger back into a hug.

Namjoon sighed and buried his face again in Seokjin's shoulder. "Maybe don't tease me then," he grumbled, but the heat was gone.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Seokjin stroked his back and laughed one more time. "Have you checked his temperature yet?"

"Not yet. He's still sleeping."

Seokjin hummed, planting a kiss in Namjoon's bed head before pulling away.

"I'll go get the thermometer. Will you wake him up for me?"

"Sure, hyung." Namjoon started down the hallway, slowly creaking the door open and slipping into his and Jeongguk's shared bedroom. The maknae was exactly where he had left him, turned away from the door curled up on his side. Even though he was about to wake the younger man up anyways, the rapper tiptoed around the bed and kneeled next to his pillow as quietly as he could. Jeongguk's face was still scrunched up and tense with pain, a flush high on his cheeks. His hair and shirt were saturated with sweat. Namjoon reached up with his hand and smoothed over the distressed wrinkles on his forehead; his face relaxed after a few seconds, melting into a neutral expression. His face was hot to the touch and Namjoon's fingers came away damp.

"Jeonggukie," Namjoon murmured, reaching over to grasp his maknae's shoulder gently. "Aghi. It's time to wake up, jaigya." The younger stirred, eyebrows immediately scrunching up again as he fought against waking consciousness and the pain he obviously felt. Namjoon shushed him gently, cupping the side of his face with a large hand and rubbing his thumb over his temple. "I know, babe, wake up for just a few minutes."

Jeongguk blearily opened his eyes and immediately winced, making a pitiful noise of pain from the back of his throat and curling up into a tighter ball. He squeezed his eyes closed and buried his face in his pillow.

"Aigoo, I know, I know it hurts Ggukkie." Namjoon moved from stoking his forehead to running his fingers through his damp hair, something he knew Jeongguk had a soft spot for. "Seokjinnie-hyung is bringing you a thermometer and then we'll get back to sleep, okay?"

Jeongguk whined weakly, voice gravelly from a combination of sleep and sickness, looking up from his pillow to gaze at his hyung pitifully. His eyes were red and glassy and tired, framed by the high spots of fever-induced color on his cheeks. Jeongguk's face screwed up, and for a horrifying second Namjoon was sure he was about to start crying. He pitched forward with a sneeze instead, following it up with a few rattling coughs. Whimpering, he reached up to hold his head in his hands as though the movement had aggravated a headache. The older man frowned and leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead before settling himself on the edge of the bed, running his hand over his dongsaeng's back in soothing strokes.

"How're you feeling, babe?"

Jeongguk just grunted and gently placed his forearm over his eyes to block out the light from the window. "Bad," he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

"Tell hyung what's hurting," Namjoon prompted, smoothing out the wrinkles of his maknae's shirt over his side.

Jeongguk didn't move his arm as he answered. "My head n' my body are aching. It's cold."

"I know, aghi. Anything else? Is your throat bothering you?"

The singer just slowly shook his head before once again going still, arching his back against Namjoon's touch. He could feel the younger's fever through his shirt. He was satisfied that the younger's throat wasn't hurting him, though; a hoarse voice was an idol's worst nightmare.

Jeongguk reached back with his free hand and pulled his shirt up to expose his back, reaching for Namjoon's hand to press it into his skin. "Push harder, hyung. Please," he murmured, pushing with more force against Namjoon's hand, digging it into his ribs.

Namjoon took the hint and began to massage his back with the heel of his palm; Jeongguk shivered under his touch, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. He was probably cold and skin most likely sensitive, but wanted skin-on-skin contact anyways. His skin was moist and sticky from perspiration, but Namjoon bore the discomfort and carried on.

"Does that help with the pain Jeonggukkie?"

The maknae nodded underneath his forearm, releasing Namjoon's wrist and draping his arm back around his waist. "It feels good, hyung."

Namjoon adjusted his position on the bed for a better reach, kneading the palms of his hands into Jeongguk's feverish skin, moving from his shoulders down to his calves. Jeongguk mewled under the touch, arching his back and wincing but not pushing his hyung away. He always got awful aches when he was feverish and Namjoon seemed to know just how to get rid of them. The maknae tried to keep as still as possible, pressing his forearm against his eyes hard to try and reduce the pain.

A soft knock resounded on the door before Seokjin poked his head in, frowning softly when his eyes drifted to their youngest member. Jeongguk was shivering and trying his hardest not to let small noises of pain slip through his gritted teeth as Namjoon worked against his tight, painful muscles. The skin of his face was flushed and damp with perspiration - even from across the dim room the mat-hyung could see the rivulets of sweat trailing down his neck. Namjoon turned around, hands still kneading against Jeongguk's thighs, and met Seokjin's eyes with the same concerned look.

Seokjin looked back to the maknae and closed the door behind him, walking around and dumping his handful of medical supplies on the bedside table, keeping only the thermometer.

"Oh, honey," he murmured. "You must be feeling awful. I'm sorry, jaigya." Seokjin passed his fingers through Jeongguk's damp, sleep-tousled hair.

Jeongguk peeped out from under his arm and met Seokjin's gaze. "Good morning, hyung." His voice was strained and congested and the older man winced at the sound of it. He pursed his lips and planted a kiss on the maknae's forehead.

"My Jeonggukie, always so polite. Good morning to you too, baby. Let's get you some medicine and some food so you can get back to sleep okay?"

"Okay," Jeongguk mumbled, struggling to push himself up to sit against the headboard. Namjoon immediately moved to help him up, hoisting him up by the armpits until he was comfortably upright. The younger man winced as soon as he was sitting up, grinding his palm against his eye to try and ease the headache. He obediently opened his lips for the thermometer, holding it underneath his tongue until it beeped. 101.9.

"He wasn't very bad last night at all, hyung, I was surprised when I woke up this morning," Namjoon fretted, chewing his lip.

"You and me both, Joonie. We'll fix him right up though, aghi, don't worry too much," Seokjin said, putting the thermometer down on the bedside table and unscrewing the lid to the fever reducers, shaking a few out onto his palm.

Namjoon was about to respond when Jeongguk's face screwed up again for the second time that morning. His eyes got a far-off look as they glazed over, breath hitching. His already-pink nose twitched and nostrils flared, trembling. He brought his hands up where they paused, hovering just a few inches away from his face.

"Hih..."

Jeongguk squeezed his watering eyes shut, letting out an involuntary whimper as the sneeze refused to leave his body. The singer's mouth hung open just slightly as his breathing hitched again, once, twice, three times, nostrils flared and nose twitching.

"Hih... Hh... Hih.h..! Hihtshu! Hi'tshh!" His body lurched forward as he caught the sneezes in his cupped hands. Seokjin quietly blessed him and rubbed his back. Jeongguk let out a little groan as he leaned back slowly, dropping his hands and scrunching his face up in pain. The sneezing hadn't done much to help his headache.

"Oh, baby, I know," Seokjin cooed, running his thumbs over the distressed lines in the younger's face. Namjoon hopped up from the bed and drew the blinds, engulfing the room in a pleasant darkness. Jeongguk visibly relaxed at the abscence of light, sighing and melting back into the headboard. "Here, Ggukkie, take these and drink half the glass." The older singer pressed the pills into the maknae's hand and held the glass of water he had brought along near his lips. Obediently, Jeongguk popped the pills into his mouth and drank from the cool glass of water as Seokjin put it to his lips. Surprisingly, the younger drained the whole thing - both of his hyungs were pleasantly surprised.

"Good job, babe," Namjoon praised, kissing him on the cheek and patting him gently on the head. Jeongguk made a satisfied noise low in his throat, eyes already closed and lolling down to his shoulder.

"That's my maknae," Seokjin smiled, patting the younger on the shoulder before turning to Namjoon. "I'll finish making his breakfast and leave it in the microwave. I think it's fine if you let him sleep for another few hours. Watch over him, okay?"

Namjoon fixed his eyes on the younger who was blissfully dozing by that point, head lolling down to his chest. "I will hyung."

Seokjin kissed the maknae on the top of his head before leaving the room, going to wake the rest of the members and get them to get ready as quietly as they could (if they could at all, that lively bunch...).

"C'mere, Jeonggukkie," Namjoon muttered, going around to his side of the bed and crawling under the covers, holding his arms out for the younger to crawl into. Jeongguk didn't miss a beat, drowsily slouching down and scooting over until he was wrapped up in the older's arms. He nosed forward until his warm forehead was pressed square against his hyung's cheek. Jeongguk intertwined a leg with the older man's, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close as he shivered; he must have been freezing cold. Tucking the blanket securely underneath his dongsaeng's chin, Namjoon pulled him as close as he was able. The younger's breathing was already slow and even, already asleep. Namjoon laughed silently and pressed a kiss to his forehead, letting his eyes drift shut as well.

“Saranghae.”

There were definitely worse ways to spend the day, he thought.

#bts snz #snz #snz fic #snzfic #bts sickfic

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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

Stress Reliever - Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 5.3k words

Genre: mild angst, smut, romance

Rating: 18+

Hi everyone! It’s the final scenario of Stress Reliever and this time it’s the Golden Maknae!!!

I bet you’re all excited to see what is he going to do to release some frustration with his s/o. Don’t expect him to go easy.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: angst-smut-fluff (the profane trinity) jealousy and mild angst at the beginning, s/o has a mild age kink and JK is not exactly okay with this. Big fat degradation kink and well... yeah. Unprotected sex within an established relationship (please, be careful!!!), edging, wall sex (yk....,.,..,,,,), kinda hard dom JK but not really? So much dirty talking my keyboard is burning and I had do erase my browsing history, oral (female receiving), ass, tiddies and pussy spanking (ups), anddddd likeeeee,.,.,.,,,,,,..... voyeurism. BUt most importantly PraISe KinNnNNNKKKKkkkkK I’m sorry this one is so bad I have no excuses, I’m a slut for praise kink, please it’s so bad I melt every time someone calls me baby and good girl even in a non sexual context and it’s so embarrassing I’m gonna explode byeeeeee-----

Here is my masterlist ❤

Wordcount: 5.3k, unedited. Enjoy!

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“God, he’s so hot.”

Jeongguk ignored whatever it was that you were talking about on the phone with your best friend. It wasn’t his business anyway.

Both you and the voice on the phone giggled. You were probably talking about some film or something. “Bet he could go for hours.”

Jeongguk tutted at that, his snack almost ready in the microwave, hoping he’d be able to leave the kitchen as soon as possible.

“Yeah, I have Googie, and I would never make a move on anyone else, but what’s wrong with innocently commenting on some older dude? He’s absolutely daddy material, let me fantasise a little about that.” Again you giggled.

Jeongguk frowned at that. He wished he didn’t have to listen. He felt guilty since you thought he wasn’t in the room.

“Koo is wonderful. A dream, truly. Still I love me a tough, mature man, at least in my imagination, every now and then.” You sounded coy.

Really? Jeongguk’s frown intensified. He felt like he didn’t want a snack anymore at this point. Like he wanted another kind of snack.

“And I love Koo. Don’t forget that.” You continued.

He cocked his head to the side and nodded at that. That was a good sign.

“Still… Damn, look at him. He’s in his forties and looks like a sex god.” You commented about the male lead actor.

Jeongguk snorted and huffed at that. One more minute, he considered, watching the timer of the microwave.

“No. Listen. Consider this. He’s the kind of man who can lead. You can tell. How could he be eager and impatient? He knows good things take time. That’s the thing about older men. Maturity. Experience. They know they need to take their sweet time. That was the only good thing about my ex. You know it.” Your voice was plain, almost neutral as you said this. Matter-of-factly.

Jeongguk was sick of this by now. Did you think he was too eager? Too impatient? Too young and naive? That he couldn’t lead you? That he couldn’t take his sweet time?

Well, now he was in a mood and he had each and every intention to take it out on you. He propped himself against the entrance of the living room, waiting for you to notice him.

Unfortunately for you, you continued your conversation.

“Yeah, sometimes Koo has his teenage shenanigans. Tantrums and shit. But he’s my boy.” You confessed, voice slightly lower. “Still… Yeah, sometimes I think ‘what if…’”

What if what? He cleared his throat.

You lifted your head and finally spotted him. Your mouth opened, and so did your eyes, wide like saucers.

“Get off the phone.” He growled.

You closed your mouth. “Gotta go.”

“He’s there, isn’t he?” Your friend asked.

You nodded, then, realising you needed to verbalise, you whispered a little ‘yes’.

Your friend wished you good luck before disconnecting the call. You put your phone down.

“Need to tell me anything?” Jeongguk asked, arms crossed and tattoos showing. You spotted the almost invisible initial of your name hidden in one of the black swirls of ink.

“It was nothing serious. Just gossip.” You defended yourself.

“Teenage shenanigans. Tantrums.” He recalled. “Guess this is one of those.” He accused.

“It’s… not like that?” You tried finding an apology, realising how cliché it sounded only the moment it left your mouth.

He moved closer, expression dark and upset. “How do you want to solve this?”

You bit your lip. “However you want to.” You were testing the waters, seeing what his mood was.

“Then stand up.” He ordered.

You blinked a couple times before following his direction. “Koo?”

“No talking.” he replied. “You already said enough.” He threw you over his shoulder, exasperated at your scene.

You squealed and huffed in surprise. “Jeongguk!”

“Quiet.” He secured with his arm, landing a loud spank on your ass.

Again you squealed. “What are you–”

“Can’t you understand ‘no talking’? I thought an experienced girl like you had to be smarter than this.” His anger was beginning to show and you were actually somewhere between turned on and scared. You had seen him sweet and enamoured and insecure and upset, but rarely truly angry.

“Sorry.” You murmured softly as his steps made you wobble against his back. He was carrying you to bed. For sure.

A few seconds later you recognised your bedroom, and you felt your body being thrown down, landing on the mattress. In a blink you found Jeongguk’s heavy body on top of yours, his mouth at your ear. “Am I not good enough for you?” He teased.

“You know I love it.” You replied shyly.

“You love the sex. But am I good enough for you?” He asked again.

“Yes. Yes, you are, Koo.” You answered firmly.

“Let’s see if you hate it so much. Sex with this eager, impatient, younger boy.” He provoked. He was moving so fast. He was moving lightning-fast, one moment he was fully dressed and the following he was shirtless and attacking your own clothes, unbuttoning your jeans, tugging at them and taking them off of you. “Bet you’re already drenched. You were so thirsting after that old man.” He threw your jeans behind him, somewhere off the bed.

“I only want you, and you know it.” You bit back.

“Stop lying.” He warned. He took off your shirt with angry pulls, almost ripping it, your body collaborating in fear he would hurt you in the process. “You fantasise.” He reminded you.

No, you don’t. Not willingly, at least. Of course, you’re an adult woman and you’re free of thinking whatever you want. Of course if you see a charming man, you might think of him sexually. But that doesn’t mean you’re not satisfied with what you have. That you would give up your boyfriend for a fantasy.

“Koo, you’re the only man I want to fuck.” You reassured him, putting your hands around his face, trying to calm him down.

“So I’m a man now? Not a boy anymore?” he asked, unlatching your bra.

“You’re always my man to me, you know it.” You hoped the sight of your breasts would make him sway a little.

It didn’t.

“You called me your boy. Just back then, on the phone.” He bared you with frustrated tugs and pulls.

“Am I not your girl?” You asked, touching him on his chest, his shoulders, his neck. Anything to express your need for him.

“Not like I’m patronizing you.” He turned you around, smacking your ass again as he removed your panties, baring your behind. “So fucking condescending.”

You bit your lip, now profoundly sorry for the way you had treated him. “I said some very dumb things, Jeongguk, and I apologise.”

“Good. Now let me prove my point.” He agreed.

“Want to fuck me good?” You asked, incapable of hiding your arousal.

“You were talking so much shit that I think you’ve forgotten what this is about.” Another smack.

Once more you found yourself lying on your back, your naked body now bare to his stare. His pants were tented at the front, the outline of his cock so delicious, thick and half hard.

“Love, please.” Your hands moved to his waistline, reaching for his sex.

“Oh, no. I’m taking my sweet time, ____. Starting from here.” He bent down and pressed a hard kiss to your lips, making you moan and whimper before his own mouth opened, his tongue disturbingly sensual and heavy in his assault to your mouth. You were now eager and impatient, while he took everything deliriously, deliberately slowly. “What next? Do you want your nipples licked?” He murmured.

You only nodded, your chest already feeling heavier and oversensitive.

“Oh, no. That’s for boys. Boys latch onto their mommy’s tits. Men don’t do that, do they?” He replied, grabbing your breast aggressively, parting from your mouth before delivering a quick slap on the skin there.

You barked out in pain, the sensation not unpleasant but rather surprising.

“You like it?” He waited for your nod before repeating the gesture. “Is it how a real man would do this?” He asked.

“Want your mouth, Googie.” You begged.

“Googie… Ridiculous. Even in bed you treat me like a child.” He hit you again, this time harder. “Can’t take me seriously, can you?”

You were already on the verge of begging.

“Such a lame show.” He let his hand venture down to your navel, down to your mound, and dive between your thighs. “Tell me, what is it that made you wet?”

You whined at the sensation of his fingertips there, incoherent babbling leaving your mouth.

“Answer me, babe.” He urged.

Your eyes went wide at the word. He was using every single one of your earlier mistakes against you. Reminding you exactly what you’ve done wrong, but also showing you everything that had hurt him.

“You made me wet.” You informed him.

“Me slapping your tits?” He snickered darkly.

“You wanting me. You looking always so fucking hot. You giving me everything I need. You being everything I’ll ever need.”

His eyes turned into cold slits. “You sure know how to sweet talk your ass out of problems, don’t you?” He cupped your heat, at which you parted your legs to invite him to make himself comfortable there, to give you his attention. In response he lifted his hand, only to let it land harshly on you. You screamed. Pleasure. Echoing through your veins. Running like wildfire inside your limbs and finally concentrating in your lower belly. “That might work with your boys. Remember? I’m your man tonight. And you’re in trouble, you silly, silly girl.”

Your first reaction was to fill your lungs with some fresh air, before writhing against his grip, the sheets burning your skin. "Jeongguk."

"Yes?" He replied, looking you in the eye as his palm brushed against you.

"I wanna be yours."

"You want this impatient boy?" He asked, the muscles of his jaw tense.

You tried kissing him, only brushing your lips against his. “I need you, Jeongguk. All of you. Now.”

“Don’t you want me to take my time?” He asked, slowly, oh-so-slowly, caressing your sex. “Don’t you want me to make you wet? Get you all ready and messy?”

“I love my impatient boy. And my meticulous man.” Your lips left a butterfly kiss just shy of his mouth, eyes closing.

“Tell me how you want me.” He groaned.

“However you want, Koo. You’re always so good.” Your hips pushed harder against his digits. “Do your best.”

“Then let me show you I’m always the best.” He murmured, his breath fanning over your face. He was laying on his side, hand still dipped between your thighs. He got rid of his sweatpants quickly, his underwear coming off in the same movement. You couldn’t help but watch, eyes entranced to the beauty of his nakedness. You could stare at him for hours. Unfortunately, he had other plans.

Standing up from the bed he circled around it, looking at you like you were his prey, his prize.

“Sit.” He ordered, pointing at the edge of the bed, right in front of where he was standing. Of course you were going to obey. His chiselled body was right there, for you to watch, touch and worship, your mouth just in front of his navel. His sex looked awfully flush, tip red with excitement, beaded in precum. You wanted a taste; however the palm reaching for him was stopped by his wrist. “My rules, brat.”

You inhaled sharply while he bent down, securing your legs around his waist. “Hold on tight, ____. Not gonna say it twice.” and with that he picked you up, like you weighted nothing.

Your arms snaked around his neck, legs tightening at his waist, crossing behind his back.

“First here. Then we’ll see.” And with that he placed you against the wall, his mouth joining your neck, placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Do you want me to mark you or is it too childish?” He growled hard behind your ear.

“Bite me, mark me, do whatever you want, I just need you inside, Koo.” You moaned, trying to lure him in.

“Such a needy slut, uh?” He whispered at your ear. “This what you want?” And with that he pinned you hard against the wall, one hand guiding himself at your entrance and sliding into you in one smooth stroke, perfectly hitting your sweet spot at the first go.

The small humming sound that rumbled in your throat found its twin on his lips.

“I said, is this what you want, slut?” He teased you again.

“Yes, Koo.” You muttered, only half coherent.

He snickered. “Great.” Placing his hands on your ass, helping you up, he pulled out of you, his tip almost slipping out before entering again in full force. “That feels nice, doesn’t it?”

You murmured in confirmation, pressing harder against him. It was different from usual. He was thrusting in slower and deeper, enjoying your tightness, his eyes closed, his hair falling forward as he pushed into you.

“So tight, baby, how come you’re still so fucking tight?”

“God, you’re so big.” One of your hands moved to his behind, grabbing his ass, groping it, enjoying the flashing of his muscles. His forehead fell on your shoulder, mouth wild on every single inch of your skin he met.

“Like it?” He picked up the rhythm, just slightly, spurred by your moans and your dishevelled expression. Your bum kept hitting the wall, the thumping now obvious and obscene.

“Harder.” You begged.

“Dirty mess.” He giggled at your ear, looking at you and kissing you until you were breathless and your head was spinning. He parted from your lips and stared into your eyes, intensity pouring out of his obsidian stare. “Want more?”

“I need you to touch me there, love, please.” You asked, eyes closing as you implored.

“Not yet, baby.” His pace was delirious by now, his legs growing tired but headstrong on reaching his orgasm.

“Please, Jeongguk.” You whined, digging your heels in his back.

“No can do, sweet thing. Now shut up.” And with that he rammed inside, using your upper back to keep you on the wall as his arms pushed and pulled your hips, fucking you onto him. “Grown men take what they want, don’t they?” He bit into your collarbone and let his mouth open wide, howling in pleasure, his cum filling you up.

You were hanging on the verge of sanity. “Koo, no, please.”

He was leaning heavily in your arms, your body hanging like a picture from the wall. “That was so fucking good, ____.”

“Koo, please.” You cried out.

“You wanna cum, baby?” He teased. “Want me to make you cum, slut?” He bit your cheek playfully. “Take it to bed? D’you want that?”

Your body tensed again for his not-so-kind nickname. “Yeah, Koo.” You whined.

“Good.” Little did you know that half a minute later he would still be inside you, sitting you on the soft headboard of the bed. He moved out of you, spinning you around and placing you bottom-up bent over the soft material of the board. “Be a good girl for me. Man, look at that ass. So hot, baby.” He slapped it playfully. “You ready baby?”

“What are you doing?” You asked, your ass up, your legs slightly dangling from the headboard as the tips of your toes brushed the floor, your stomach pressed against the dark leather. You tried shifting your weight to your arms, but Jeongguk trapped one of them behind your back.

“You can use one to hold yourself up. No more than that, bitch.”

His filthy mouth made your blood feel inebriated, almost like being tipsy.

Your hips were conveniently exposed, his mouth immediately identifying its target as he crouched down and started rubbing his lips against your sex. “Good?”

“Yes, yes. Yes...” You whispered, still chasing the high he had taken from you earlier.

“Want me to make you cum?” He asked.

“Please.” You whined.

“Such a cock hungry little thing.” He let his tongue loll out, the tip going to your front, rubbing against your clit. He kissed the skin there before speaking into your skin: “Be good.”

His tongue slipped inside you, licking away his seed, then spitting it out all over your slit, lubricating you again. “Can you cum without my fingers on your clit, baby? Can you come for an impatient boy licking you?” He bit into the curve your ass.

“Jeongguk, I’m sorry. Please.” You implored.

“You consider yourself a woman when all you truly want is for me to turn you into my little girl.” He kissed the side of your thigh, his right hand heavily palming and groping your ass. By now you felt like bursting at the seems, arousal coming off your limbs in waves. Jeongguk, buried between your legs, took your salty scent in, delivering small bites to your labia and sucking your clit viciously.

You only needed more pressure.

“Come on, slut, cum for me so I can get inside you again.” He teased, repositioning you with his spare hand and now adding more strength to the movements of his tongue.

The change was immediate. You could feel it in your belly. “Koo, I’m—” next thing that left your mouth was a long scream, rattling your bones, resetting you entirely.

“That’s a good girl.” He said in the most patronising, condescending and sarcastic tone he could muster. You felt your lungs ignite. “Are you gonna stay still now after you got what you wanted? Let me fuck that need for older men out of you?”

He was angry again. He was angry still.

“I said dumb stuff.”

“‘Cause you’re a little dumb doll, aren’t you?” His voice came from somewhere behind you, above you. You turned to search for his face but he used his big hand to press your face against the pillow below you. “Dumb, disobedient doll. Stay put.”

You closed your eyes and tried to press your behind to his pelvis. “I’m begging. Jeongguk. I love you.”

“Oh, so you love me now.” His length lingering on your entrance suddenly slammed into you. “You love me?”

“Yes!” You screamed, hoping that the walls would keep your sounds inside the room.

His hand pinned both of your wrists behind your back. “More than your ex?”

“Yes! I’ve never loved anyone like you, Koo.” You mewled, desperate.

"Has he ever fucked you this good?" He grunted, bending down to your ear.

"No Jeongguk, I swear. You're the best."

"That’s right. I'm the fucking best." He rammed into you recklessly, his head falling forward as he stood and helped your hips back, the tip of your feet now pressed more steadily against the floor, removing some pressure from your abdomen.

He probably didn't even realise that the position was getting uncomfortable, and you were grateful for the shift, even if it made his thrusts deeper and more difficult to resist.

“How can you want it calm and patient when you love being my fuckdoll, uh?” He pulled out and smacked your ass hard, then plunging in again. “When you need a young—” thrust— “inexperienced—” thrust—“impatient little boy—” thrust— “to fuck your brains out?”

You moaned and pushed yourself toward him, the sound of your flesh squelching and smacking echoing in the room.

His hand climbed around your waist, dipping down your navel and meeting the apex of your labia. “Did your ex ever fuck you like this?”

“No Jeongguk.” You replied meekly.

“Did he ever make you cum like this?” He asked, torturing you with his devious fingers.

“No, Jeongguk.”

“Did he ever make you speechless with his cock?” He growled, sinking into you and shifting his hips to push small little circles deep against your cervix.

“No…” you hummed, barely responsive.

“You’re gonna cum so good on my cock, doll. You’re gonna be a slut for it, drool on it for the rest of your life.” He swore, filthy and almost unconscious.

Were you more coherent, you would have realised how fucked out he was, but unfortunately you were twice as gone as him and in no time your mouth formed his name in a strangled breath before your body twitched around him, your hands gripping on your forearms, still in the position he’d put you in even though his grip was no longer controlling you.

“Cumming on my dick. Such a dumb little girl for it, uh?” He provoked you, even though your mind was miles high, seeing stars dance in your peripheral. “Take it all. Enjoy it. It’s the only one you’re gonna get, slut.”

And with that he grabbed hold of your hips and started bouncing your bum against his crotch, hammering into you, lasting only a minute before grunting your name and growling against your spine, falling forward and then snapping back, head bent away from you as he used you as his personal toy.

When you felt him stop you dared turn around. He was magnificent.

Hair plastered to his forehead, face and torso glimmering with sweat, the veins of his arms popping out like highways under his skin.

“Koo.” You murmured, looking for your boy, your comfort, your safe place.

“Only a second, sweetheart.” He exhaled, his skin blushing with exertion. “I know I can get another one, just give me time, baby.”

“Koo, I—“ You objected, but he stopped you.

“It’s not you. It’s me. I want it.” He warned with a stern tone. “Don’t you dare think this is about you, doll. Can you choose where you want it or are you too fucked out for that?”

Jeongguk helped you up and pulled you to his chest, the pose half affectionate and half controlling. “You know me best. I know you’ll choose what is best for me.” You whined in an attempt of flattery — even though it was absolutely true. He does know you best. You know he will always choose what’s best for you because he loves you. He adores you.

He carefully drew out of you, kissing your spine delicately. You still had to understand what was his current mood. “Turn around.”

You obeyed, your eyes naturally focusing on his chest, right in front of your face. He pinched your neck and turned your head upwards, toward his awaiting gaze. You knew there were many things he was trying to say right in that moment with nothing but a glance. You knew how the words got stuck in his throat and how they would stumble and shake before falling from his lips, how they would sound tiny and hurt and heartbroken, but also fond and fiery and faithful.

You knew all his favourite words, the ones he spoke so little, the ones he kept closer to his heart in fear that their power would diminish once they finally made it out.

He kissed you one, two, five, ten, twenty times, small pecks and butterfly kisses, Eskimo kisses with the tip of his lovely nose, and wet, sloppy kisses on your neck. He combed your dishevelled hair and kissed it too, then your hands, then your wrists and then your eyelids. Your forehead and your brow, the tender skin behind your ear, the softness of your cheeks.

Picking you up, he kissed you again, his mouth possessing yours, lost in the tenderness and passion of you. You felt like a small boat in a wide, calm sea, nothing but the horizon all around you, his waves lulling you, his voice and his lips leading you towards a safe haven, surrounded in peace.

“I love you, Googie.” You breathed softly against his open mouth.

“Let me show you.” He replied, again carrying you exactly where he wanted.

Your walk in closet was enormous, with wide wardrobes along the walls, a couple mirrors multiplying the images of you and him.

“Here.” He said, placing you on the comfy seat in the middle of the small room.

In here he would see your every angle and reaction. There would be no escape from the blatant ruination he would unleash over your body.

His hand was already cupping his sex, palming and pumping it as he used his other arm to pry your legs open, his head sinking there. He bit into the skin of your thighs, sucking and kissing with a hunger you had never thought existed. His favour stopped just shy of your entrance, watching as his release spilled and stained your skin.

“Amazing.” He murmured reverently, leaning into your knee as if he was on the verge of sanity and you were the only thing pinning him to reality. “Tell me I’m the only one you want.”

“You’re the only one I want. The only one I love.” You wasted no time as you comforted him, giving him that safety net he so desperately craved.

“Tell me you won’t leave me,” he begged, closing his eyes as if the thought caused him physical pain.

“I’ll be by your side, always.” You promised, caressing his hair.

“Look,” he pointed to the mirror on your side, to your seated figure and his kneeling one.

“Koo. Are you ready? I need you so bad.” You whined, your eyes leaving the reflection only as you ended your request.

“Want you on your knees, belly on the seat.”

He gave you the space to manoeuvre down from the seat, on your knees, right as he wanted you.

“Look straight ahead, doll. Look at that.” He teased, his hand pointing towards the mirror in front of you. “Look at your tits pressed up against the seat. They’re so soft… They must be so fucking sensitive by now.” His hand stroking himself dragged his tip against your skin, moistening you evenly as he got ready once more.

“I’ve neglected them today.” He caressed your back and kissed your neck. “I’ll take good care of them tomorrow morning. Would you like that?” He asked, mischievous.

“Yes, Koo.” God, you weren’t even sure you knew other words by now, so possessed by your need for him.

He put just the head of his cock inside you, enjoying the immediate fluttering of your insides. “Want more, doll.”

With a humming, senseless groan you backed your ass into his groin.

He snickered sarcastically. “Fuckdoll.”

You felt every inch of him enter you, violating your flesh.

“That’s it. I’m gonna ruin you.” Jeongguk growled visciously as he bottomed out.

“Please.” You moaned as you looked at his face from the reflection in the mirror. He was using his hand to press against your lower back.

“Taking me so well, slut. So hungry for it.” He was lost in the reflection too, moving slow and deep.

“Only for you.” You whined, praising him.

“No one can do it like us. No one.” He twisted your head to the side, the other mirror welcoming you. “There’s no one else for us.”

God, he was wordy today. You were basking in it. You loved how he wanted you to see, to hear everything. He was often wild but shy and today was truly exceptional for many reasons. “Googie, touch me, I’m getting close, please.”

“You keep saying please, baby. So polite today, uh? Might have to fuck you like this more often.” He provoked you.

“Look how fucked out you are, doll.” He snorted. “You’re so hot.” He keened.

You watched the way his muscles moved, his pecs flexing and relaxing as he dragged your hips along his shaft. “No one can get you this hot.”

“No.” You whined out, desperate for more, for anything, for everything he was willing to give you.

“You’re a slut for me alone, uh?” He smacked your ass once more, pulling out of you entirely and slapping his length over your soft backside. “Dirty fuckdoll.”

“I’m your toy, Koo. Use me.” You pleaded, searching for him with your hands, needing him close, closer, melted into you. “Please.”

“How can I say no to my needy slut.” He giggled before changing his angle, his arm infiltrating beneath your torso, between your breasts, towards your neck.

His other hand slithered to your front, his thrusts more subdued now that his leverage was weaker between your thighs and against your collarbone. The slow-down however helped you focus on your clit, on his fingers there on the way he was touching you in that “I’m not playing, you’d better cum in the next two minutes” mood.

“You’re getting tighter, doll. D’you like my hand so much?” He teased with an accusing tone. “You must be close, mh?”

“So close, Koo.” You chirped.

“Come on, then.” His thrusts slowed even more, making you feel full to the brim and once they paired with his fingers you found yourself coming apart.

“Yeah, babe. So fucking tight. Cum for me.” He spoke on your skin, body completely twisted and twined with yours. His tongue ran against your spine, his throat producing small, deep grunts as his pleasure exploded and spilled inside you. “Yes, doll. Fuck babe. Amazing.” He howled, arching into you, sticking to you like a second skin.

“You look so damn lovely, doll. I love you so fucking much.” He whispered, heavy at your back, his hips stilling. “I bet nobody’s ever fucked you like this.”

“No.” You confirmed. “Nobody has. Nobody ever will.” You pressed a kiss to his hand, close to your face and cupping your cheek.

As if coming back from a trance, he batted his lashes intensely, kissing your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, Googie. It was… incredibly hot. Definitely on your top three best performances. I will definitely write this day down on the calendar. We can celebrate it like an anniversary.”

“Hot fuck in the closet day.” He murmured, half asleep on top of you. “I like that.”

You smiled. “Can we get to bed? My knees are a bit sore. Actually I’m a bit sore all over.”

He nodded, waiting a couple seconds before parting from you and helping you up, carrying you to the bathroom and cleaning you up silently, taking care of you before dropping both of your heavy bodies on the bed.

“I said ugly stuff.” He confessed.

“I did too.” You admitted. “You know, I might think that older men are charming, but that’s as far as it goes. And I might have said stuff about my ex, but hey, there are multiple reasons why he’s my ex.” You caressed his face and kissed his hair as he laid his head on your chest. “And I’m here with you. No charming old man, no patient ex will ever change the fact that I love you.” You reassured him. “That you’re a dream come true.” You held his hand and intertwined your fingers.

“I just… I’m always afraid of the things I can’t give you.” He whispered, insecure. As if he hadn’t given you his everything…

“I will love you for all the things you can give me, Googie. And we will learn to compromise about the things we can’t give each other. That’s how it works.” You brought his hand to your lips, pressing them against every inch of it.

“I’m sorry about the bad words.” He said with big doe eyes, lined with silvery tears. “I hope I didn’t insult you or upset you.”

“Would you worry if I said I liked that a bit?” You looked into his eyes tenderly, trying to dissolve his shyness. “But I hurt you with my words, so I want to know now.”

Your conversation went on for almost half an hour, his body warm and comfortable next to yours, the feeling of safety encouraging him to bare himself, showing you his darkest, most vulnerable sides.

By the end of the afternoon you both felt loved and appreciated, cared for and adored. With his head heavy on your chest, your heartbeat playing in his ear, Jeongguk realised you would always be his one.

#bangtan sonyeondan #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bts smut #kpop smut #jungkook fanfiction

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uwu-shinsou · 4 years

Note

First,,,, CONGRATS ON 500 BB!! YOU DESERVED IT!! And uhhh if it's not much a bother can I request Shinsou Hitoshi with 6 and 13 (if it's alright! If youre not comfortable with doing it you can do whatever youre comfortable with, I care abt your well being more than the fic that Im requesting) and I dont really uh care if its hc or a drabble or smth cuz im inlove with anything and everything that you make! Again congrats! Have a nice day :))

Title: Whatever You Say

Prompt: Accidental Text, Hate-to-Love

Warning(s): Mild language

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi X Gender Neutral!Reader

Genre: Drabble, working through feelings

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: THANK YOU ISSA!! 🥺💖I’m so glad you requested!! Bc I’m trying to keep these shorter like “drabbles” I had a hard time doing like,, full on hate to love so this is more like resentment to friends with implications of hidden feelings?? AHAHA but uhhh yeah, I hope you all enjoy 🥺and in case you missed it, my last year of college has started, so I will be updating less frequently, but I will still be around and writing and vibing!🤗

500 Event Masterlist

✿ .✿ .✿ .✿ .✿

Oh shit.

You flew down the hall, bursting into Kaminari’s bedroom without knocking. The blonde sat up quickly at your intrusion, but relaxed slightly upon seeing it was you.

“What’s up speed racer?” He joked, folding his legs up to make room for you on the bed. You walked up to the side of the bed, dropping your knees on the edge and falling forward face-down onto the covers.

“I messed up, Denki,” You groaned, rolling over onto your back and staring at the ceiling. “I sent a text to Shinsou-”

He let out a little snort. “Now that’s unusual.”

“Yeah,” You agreed. “Because it was a text that was not meant for him.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad, right?” He asked, now a little nervous. You couldn’t blame him. You and Kaminari had clicked instantly at the beginning of your first year at U.A., and now you’d pretty much consider him your best friend, and you his. But come the end of first year, with the trial and following announcement that Shinsou Hitoshi, general ed student, would be transfering into the hero course- and more specifically- your class, Kaminari Denki had seemed to collect himself yet another best friend.

And you had made your first rival.

You hadn’t wanted to. But when you had first heard about Shinsou’s quirk, people couldn’t help but compare it to yours. As long as you maintained skin to skin contact, you could command another person to do anything that you wanted. Paired with your athletic background (which started when you were young, at the insistence of your parents that it’d “prepare you for hero training”) you were clearly the superior “mind control” student. You didn’t understand why another one was needed in the hero course. Wasn’t he just fine being in the general course?

But of course he had to join class 2A, become Aizawa’s favorite, and start to steal the attention of your best friend.

But Kaminari was his own person, and he made his own choices about when he hung out with the two of you. It really wasn’t fair to put him in the middle of your mess of feelings. And even though he was Shinsou’s friend, you knew he would keep your secrets.

You turned onto your side to look at him. “Here just- read this.” You shoved your phone at him. He took it in his hand, his face contorting into a grimace as he read your mistake once, twice, three times.

“...Why the hell did you send him this?” You slapped your hands against your face in embarrassment and despair. He mockingly cleared his throat. “‘Can you believe purple hair beat me in today’s exercise? Why does he have to basically have my quirk? If he wasn’t so hot I’d be really pissed.’” Kaminari let out a whistle. “Wow, now there is a lot to unpack here, hun.”

You winced. “Yeah, that text was supposed to go to Mina, but I mean- fucking hell, I don’t know?” You ran your hands over your face. “I guess I somehow just clicked the wrong contact and instead it went to him! And it’s even worse that he hasn’t responded about it yet.” You’d never outright said to Shinsou that you disliked him, but you had to assume he knew, and felt the same way about you.

“I didn’t know you thought he was hot,” Kaminari said, wiggling his eyebrows. You launched a pillow at him that he ducked.

“C’mon, anyone with a brain can see that he’s attractive,” You muttered. “It’s the same as Todoroki, or maybe Bakugou if you took away some of the attitude.”

He let out a sigh. “Yeah you’re right.” After a moment of silence he pressed your phone back into your hand. “Anyways, I think the best approach would be to sort it out face to face. Texting can make things too muddled sometimes.”

“Since when did you have so much wisdom?”

He nudged you with a knee. “Hey, there’s a reason you came running to me.”

“I suppose you’re right.” It’ll probably be really awkward and not fun, but you should try to explain yourself in person.

Which is how you found yourself on the outskirts of the woods by the dorm buildings watching Shinsou workout, your presence still unnoticed as his back was turned to you. Kaminari had directed you here, knowing that his friend often trained here on his own.

Suddenly he relaxed his stance, speaking without turning around. “What, you got more to say to me than what was in that text?”

You gritted your teeth at his words. What is up with his attitude!? “Yeah, well maybe I do.” You crossed your arms, shifting most of your weight onto one foot.

Shinsou glanced over his shoulder. “Sucks for you, I’m busy.” He reached down to the ground and slung his towel over his shoulder. “Since my quirk is clearly inferior to yours, I need to keep training.” You winced slightly at his words.

“Hey, I never said it like that-”

“Yeah, well you didn’t have to.” He sighed before turning to face you fully. “Look, I get it, you feel like I’m trying to take your spot here at U.A. Well just- don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll stay out of your way.”

As he began walking away, you found yourself stepping after him. “Shinsou, it’s not fair to phrase it that way.”

He stopped and turned to face you once more. “What do you know about ‘not fair’?” Shinsou took a step closer to you. “‘Not fair’ is getting into the general class, only to see someone just like me being praised for their power in the hero course. ‘Not fair’ is working as hard as I can to make my dreams come true, only to find out that I still have to compete against you. ‘Not fair’ is wanting to so desperately hate you for it all, but I can’t. Not when I see your strength, your power, your drive and ambition, and I can’t help but admire it. Admire you.” He let out a soft snort of mock amusement to himself. “I do kind of hate you for that, though.”

You stood there in silence. What do I even say to that? Shinsou watched you warily, waiting for a reaction.

“I don’t hate you, not really,” You said slowly. As good a place to start as any. “Resented you, yes, but hate is a strong word.” As you continued talking, your mouth let more and more words spill out, words you didn’t even know you had wanted to say. “And yeah, I was worried that you’d ‘take my spot’ or whatever, but I think that was the competitive nature of this school getting to me. They support friendly competition between students, but maybe I took that too much to heart.” You toed at the ground, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. “I was worried about you joining our class because I think you have amazing control over your quirk and you’re really talented. You really do have the potential to be an incredible hero. And I think… I’d like it better if we were friends, instead of pitting ourselves against each other.”

As you waited for Shinsou’s response, you started to get antsy. Why do I care so much about what he’s going to say?

Finally he answered. “Alright. Friends is a good place to start.” He held his hand out to you, as if to shake on it. Hesitatingly you reached out, your fingers firmly grasping his. He tightened his grip. “Should we also acknowledge that you said I was hot in your text?”

His words brought on a wave of nerves, and you yanked your hand back as if it were on fire. “That- That was a typo!” He began walking back towards the dorms with you hurrying to catch up to him.

As you matched his stride, he huffed out a laugh and sent you a knowing smile. “Sure, whatever you say.”

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allandoflimbo · 4 years

Text

Bad Guy

Summary: You experience another night out in your new hometown. One that has you reaching for a drink, and maybe ending with a certain someone between your legs.

Warnings: Drinking, cursing, and (mild, well for me) fucking.

A/N: This is a submisstion for @amanda-teaches 2k Writer + Reader Challenge. My prompt was “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” This was really fun to write. Thank you for letting me participate in this! And I hope you really enjoy this one. :) It’s pretty light hearted. As most of you know, I will no longer post my writing on Tumblr, i’ll just be sticking to my other platforms now. If you wanna check me out i’ll be on AO3, mostly. This is my final closing. :)

The night was turning crisp, a heavy contrast to what it had been that afternoon.

It had been humid and overbearingly hot; too scorching for a late August summer.

It was around six o’clock when the temperature had dropped a sudden ten degrees. Now it was pleasant, and those that had hidden away all day in their air conditioned homes, finally decided to venture out into the cooling air.

There was an intense misconception about New York City that not many understood, not until they experienced it first hand, at least.

Sure, it was beautiful in its bright lights and air that seemed to ooze hope for everyone’s future. It gave off a vibe that made you admit, that yeah, it kind of was like the movies.

Except that it wasn’t.

From afar, it was quite the spectacular, but as you narrowed down and took a closer look, you’d see it for what it really was.

The brownstone buildings that housed the speakeasies and restaurants on the ground floor; they were beautiful, surly.

So were the homes across the streets, with their lights still on.

The streets, they were nice too.

People stood all around, greeting new friends and old ones, talking about which place they would go to next or which bar.

You liked the village. It had its pros and cons, but at the end of the day, you were glad you settled for that fifteen hundred dollar studio on the first floor.

It had a nice view of the deli and the prestigious restaurant across the street, and it was a brownstone.

Yeah, all of that was really nice.

Except when you took a closer look and realized that even the prettiest of things had its faults.

Those streets filled with smiles and laughter also had trash bags piled up every ten feet and on every corner.

Those restaurants and speakeasies - the brownstones were older so the walls outside the building were washed out, aged.

The air also had a strange, but yet addicting, smell.

It was a mixture of all the restaurants around mixed with booze.

The stairs that led down into the restaurant entrances were old and rusted.

The ATMs that lounged outside each one - because that’s right, most of them only take fucking cash - six out of ten of them were always out of service and served as nothing but mediocre décor next to the window.

Heavy graffiti lined their sides.

The doors to the restaurants were older, too. Some of them never even closed properly or were too damn heavy.

And your apartment...it was perfect.

You’d have to settle into become a minimalist to even fit your bed inside.

The flooring was also old and scratched and the walls needed a new paint job. But it wasn’t too bad. It could’ve been worst.

But you loved it.

You loved the feeling of the city around you, and you loved how you had made your new friends so easily after moving in from your old home in little ole’ Ohio.

You loved going to bed being able to hear the life outside, the laughters and sound of people making new memories and falling in love.

And those restaurants and speakeasies that looked flawed up close, they were anything but inside.

The owners were always so imaginative. The lighting was always warm, there were always people inside enjoying life and the food- in every single one of them.

Because, that’s right, all their food were good food.

New York City was beautifully flawed.

It was just what you were looking for.

You think this to yourself for the hundredth time since you moved here as you walk down the street towards a new bar you hadn’t been to yet.

You pass by locals as well as tourists and it’s nice.

You’re about to cross the street when you see a couple getting out of their little apartment.

Your heart warms as you see the man take the girl’s hand in his, both of them giggling as they prepare for a night out of making memories.

You feel your phone vibrate as you arrive to the other side of the intersection.

You hear a car horn in the distant and a nice summer breeze blow in through your hair.

You open your lock screen.

Nat

You here yet?

You quickly type away a message while also trying to avoid walking into others coming in the opposite direction as you.

You hold tighter onto your bag as it bumps into a girl, your small heels clacking beneath your feet.

You open your map to see the distance of the location and then reply back to her.

I’m a block away.

You see it from where you’re standing and it had it a decent sized line to get inside.

Budapëis

It read in white letters on the blackout windows.

You sped up a bit as you got closer, your excitement growing in your belly.

It doesn’t take much longer after you’ve been in line to realize it was actually moving pretty quickly.

A larger and dark man greets you at the entrance and you hand him your ID which he quickly scans. He gives it back to you and you thank him.

Inside the bar was loud. The people chatted away happily and the music thrummed in your bones. It was also very dark, the only light being the orange glows of the candles on some of the tables and the dimmed warm lights hanging above.

You watched as the cute male bartenders worked proficiently and sync, but also making sense to make small talk with each client as much as they could over the loud noise.

A girl says excuse me but still manages to nudge into you.

Spinning your head around, you realize there are no more seats left to sit and it makes sense why half of the people were all standing around and huddled like cattle.

Oh boy.

You feel a tug on your arm and you spin around to see Nat holding a Martini in her right hand, her left arm going in for an immediate hug.

“You made it!” She says.

“Of course!” You hope she can hear you.

She pulls away and tugs you towards her, “Come on, we’re all in the back.”

You let her lead you to the “back” which is really just a small space in the corner of the bar.

You immediately recognize Steve, Sam, and Wanda from afar.

“Oh, hey, you made it!” Steve yells, grabbing you in a tight hug.

“Hey, Y/N” “Oh, hey.” Sam and Wanda greet you.

“Hi, sorry I took a bit long. I was doing laundry.”

“Ha.” Sam snorts out loud, “come on you need a drink.” He adds.

“I will, I will —“ you dart your eyes to his own cup and point, “what’s that?”

“New York sour. Tastes like shit. Wanna try?” He says way too excitedly.

“Sure.” He hands you his glass and you take a sip.

You barely have the tip of the glass all the way out of your mouth when a body hits you on your side, making you stumble.

The drink doesn’t spill crazily, but it’s enough to get on your hand and to leave it sticky, leaving you annoyed.

You’re also not too fond of the face full of hair you just got and the elbow that keeps nudging into the side of your rips.

You stumble a few centimeters to the left, because seriously, it’s not like you have an option right now.

You look over to the girl who is now laughing and talking exceptionally loud with Nat and all your friends.

Did they really not see that?

But you wouldn’t blame them, there was barely any light in the place anyway.

If it weren’t for Sam reaching over the girl’s head to grab your glass, you’d be certain he had forgotten all about you.

You hand it back, cringing as you try not to elbow the girl in the face.

Sure, she was rude, but you weren’t going to return that sentiment.

“What’d you think, Y/N?” Sam shouts to you.

It’s then, finally, when the girl looks over at you.

She was drop dead gorgeous. At least 5’9. Her hair was a natural light brown and her eyes a piercing green.

Clearly a model trying to make it big in the city.

Her face is emotionless at first but then she attempts a smile.

You feel awkward under her gaze, awaiting an apology when Sam pulls you around.

“Come on, lets get ya something good.” He says, dragging you the bar.

You follow him until you’re at the side of the counter closest to when you first came in.

You sigh, already dreading this night, when you overhear Sam ordering two shots of tequila and two lemons.

“Me and you, y/l/n.” He says, taking the glass from the cute bartender.

Sam hands you the shot and you both countdown together before taking it simultaneously.

You chase it with the lemon, and okay yeah, you feel a little bit better.

“Glad we finally got ya out to a real bar.” Sam smiles.

You shrug.

“It’s been a while. Been busy trying to work, book places.”

“Oh, yeah, what is it that you do again?”

“I’m a singer, Sam. Whole reason I came from Ohio. Hello?”

He shoots you an infectious grin.

“I know, I’m just messing with you.”

You sigh.

Sometimes you did feel like people forgot though, especially in a city with 8 million other people trying to reach the same dream as you.

You hang around your friends for a bit longer, finally, finally getting the opportunity to wish Nat a happy birthday.

It must’ve been about an hour now later and you’re glad that one girl was gone.

Whoever she was.

“Is Bucky still coming?” Sam asks randomly out loud.

“He said he would get here as soon as he was done with his shift.” Steve mumbles, looking down at his phone, a glass filled with amber alcohol in his other hand.

“Shocked he’s taking so long. Wonder if he knows Aubrey is here.” Sam says.

“He’s an ass. And a whore. He knows.” Nat screams over to the guys.

You look over at Nat and Wanda and you see them already out of it giggling while looking at some guys’ Instagram feed.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” You announce.

“Hell yeah you are, y/l/n!” Sam yells with a wink.

Steve elbows him in the side.

“Stop peer pressuring her.” He says.

“I’m not, she just needs to let loose—“ he voice fades as you walk away.

You sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted. You contemplated ordering some fries or maybe mozzarella sticks.

You fold your arms onto the cold counter, waiting for the bartender to give you his full attention.

It takes a bit with the amount of people he’s serving along with the other bartender.

Finally he looks over at you and he smiles bright.

God, so cute.

You lean your head on your hand.

“Hi, can I have a gin and tonic?”

He taps the table top.

“Sure thing.” You watch his arms flexing as he makes your drink.

Mmm.

He slides it to you with a wink.

“You on a tab?”

You tell him Nat’s name and everything necessary and he nods.

You sip your drink, letting the music drown and numb you along with the alcohol. Your finger trails the condensation on the glass gingerly.

“Hey, man.”

A soothing voice comes up next to you, greeting the bartender.

The bartender’s face lights up.

“No, way. Finally out of his damn shell.” The bartender greets him with a over hand handshake.

You slide over to the side a bit, giving them some space.

The man next to you orders a drink, giving the bartender his card and requesting a tab.

You feel the heat of his presence as he leans on his own arms over the counter right next to you, and you can’t help smelling the delicious smell of cologne wafting off his body.

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol but you feel yourself biting on your bottom lip, and sticking your ass in the air, still dragging your hand up and down the glass.

But this time on purpose.

It doesn’t work.

You look over to take a look at the man in question and you swoon.

His dark brown hair was begging to be pulled and he had the softest of scruff on his face.

He wore a black leather jacket and jeans and shoes that looked way too expensive.

You drag your eyes back up his body to see a smirk, and fuck, he’s looking straight at you.

Those eyes. They were so blue.

You blush faintly, turning back to your glass and taking another sip.

You know he’s still there, eyes stilling lingering on you.

He takes his drink and then clears his throat.

You’re expecting him to say something when he leaves.

Your smile fades and you feel a weird emptiness. Rejection?

No that couldn’t be it.

You’re finishing your drink when your eyes drift back up to your friends.

Sam, Steve, Wanda, and Nat are all smiling.

But then Steve is smiling more and the commotion is even bigger as they spin around.

You perk a brow as you watch the man that was just next to you a few moments ago greet your friends.

Was that Bucky? The infamous asshole?

He was beautiful.

Of course he was.

You try to compose yourself before walking back over to your friends.

Sam looks at you disappointed, eyes darting to your empty hands.

“I thought you were getting a drink.”

“I already drunk it, dumbass.”

“Why drink there, drink here.”

You chuckle, your eyes darting to Bucky briefly who eyes you for a moment making a connection.

His friends were your friends too.

There was something strange the entire time, about the connection in the air between you two.

It must’ve been the alcohol. He was way out of your league.

But you didn’t understand the asshole your friends were talking about. Well, not that you really knew him that much anyway.

As you pretend to be intrigued in your conversation with Nat and Wanda, yours was actually focused on Bucky.

It’s like you both are playing a playful game of who can catch the other looking first.

You find yourself licking your lip...twirling your hair around your finger…

You swear he’s staring at your finger.

God, what was happening to you?

“Hey, babe!”

You heart Plummets into your stomach as you see the same girl from before (the one who spilled the drink on you) wrapping her arms around Bucky’s neck and oh yeah, she’s definitely sticking her tongue down his throat.

You feel your heart in your stomach and the strong taste of the gin in your mouth.

He pulls away with a moan and a slight grimace.

“Hey, Aubrey. What are you doing here?”

His hands go to her arms, prying her off of him.

“I came with a few friends and ran into yours. You haven’t been answering any of my messages.”

“Yeah, we broke up, remember?”

Everyone’s attention is now to Bucky and Aubrey as they watch their interaction.

“But come on, just one more night, one more good fuck for all times sake.”

A heavy snicker leaves your throat, but you quickly try to disguise it by pretending to wipe your mouth.

The girl’s head spins towards you and she peaking a brow at you.

She quickly ignores you and turns back to Bucky.

“Come on, Bucky.”

Bucky looks over it.

“Aubrey, Aubrey stop.” He says seriously.

She pulls back from him and they stare at each other for a moment longer before she scoffs and spins on her heel.

You turn away from the scene, suddenly needing another drink or at least some fresh air.

You settle for the latter, telling your friends you’d be right back.

You settle to lean back against the brick wall of the bar, taking in the sweet smell of a summer night.

The contrast of the silence outside felt amazing your ears, and the small amount of alcohol in your system only made it better.

You cursed yourself for being a horny little freak. But you chuckle to yourself as you pull out your phone. You couldn’t help that you needed physical attention.

You’re skimming through your emails when you feel someone next to you. You look up to see Bucky, his left shoulder leaning on the wall right next to you.

You find yourself smiling at his little smirk and you bite your bottom lip, looking away.

“You were trying to get my attention so bad before, and now you don’t want to talk?” He asks playfully.

You shake your head, but you still have a smile on your face.

You feel your cheeks grow hot.

“Wow, seriously?” “Am I wrong?”

You think about your answer as you continue to look through your emails, except at this point you were just trying to look like you were.

“No, but that was before I realized who you were.”

His smiled slides off slowly.

“What do you mean?”

You finally decide to put your phone away and you spin around to look at him, now face to face.

The look in his eyes are intense and you find yourself blushing. You knew all these things about him, but yet he had this aura about him, almost like everyone else was wrong.

Your eyes dart from his eyes and to his lips.

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” You say quietly.

When he doesn’t say anything, you look back up until your eyes meet.

“Are they wrong?” He asks.

Your perk a brow at his answer.

“I—I don’t know.”

He chuckles.

“Exactly.”

You nod, pushing yourself off the wall. You take a deep breath, looking at the people on the street.

“It’s getting late, I should get going.”

Bucky nods, still not moving from his spot.

“Okay, yeah.”

You stay glued to where you are, your eyes darting back to his.

“Yeah.” You repeat back.

You watch as the tip of his tongue licks his lips. You feel the heat in your core and you feel the heavy beating in your chest.

“Do you live close by?” He asks huskily, looking over your shoulder.

____

You don’t know how it happened, but one minute he had you up against the public hallway wall of your apartment building - where literally anyone could see you - and the next he was pushing your jeans passed down your hips in your living room.

You groaned as your lips connected again, and as you pulled on his hair again.

He cursed into your lips as he cupped your center, feeling how wet you already were for him.

You whimpered as he rubbed small circles over your clit, before finally inserting his finger deep inside of you.

He pushed you down onto your bed, his left hand still fucking you. You lifted your left leg onto the bed and he groaned into your mouth as he quickened the pace of his hand.

You threw your head back, moaning.

You felt your desire quickly dissipate as he pulled away from you.

Bucky chuckled at your whine, but your disappointment was short lived as your watched him pull his shirt and jeans off.

You did the same with your own top and then your bra.

He was on you in a hot second, capturing your lips in a long kiss that had your toes curling against your blanket.

When he pulled away you were captivated by how delicious he looked. You also couldn’t help but swoon at the look he had in his eyes.

Endearment? You weren’t sure.

Your fingers trail over the side of his face as he continues to stare down at you.

“I’m not the bad guy,” he kisses you. He slides into you with a grunt, “I swear, I’m not him.” He kisses you again.

Your hook your left leg over his hip, pulling him in deeper into your hot core.

You pull away from his mouth, your left hand going down to his stomach.

“Fuck. Fuck.” You pant heavily. It felt too good too fast and you know he felt it too as he stretched his forearms on either side of your head.

A long whimper leaves his lips as he sets a faster pace, fucking you into your bed.

He almost looses it completely when he feels you reaching down to rub at your clit, your fingers hitting the base of his cock and his little hairs.

You feel your pussy tightening around him and you know you’re so damn close.

“Yeah, come on, baby. That’s it.” He coaxes you, panting desperately into the crook of your neck.

You feel the fire burning in the pit of your tummy and you know that with a few more thrusts and a few more rubs on your clit that you were done for.

The sounds in your little apartment were filthy. You could hear his hips snapping against yours and both of your groans.

He slowed down his pace as you felt yourself come undone.

“Shit, I’m cumming.” You tell him through gritted teeth, your face only millimeters from his.

He has a wicked smirk on his face and some of his sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead.

“Me too, fuck, I’m cumming, too.” He says.

You scream as you pulse around his hard cock, not missing the way his own eyes squeeze together, a strong grunt leaving his mouth.

His hips slow down to a stop and when you open your eyes again, he’s already staring down at you.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” You say, running your hand through his hair.

Bucky chuckles as he leans forward to leave a kiss on your collarbone.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky x oc #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #captain American fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bad guy #2k challenge #allandoflimbo #alandoflimbo #my fics

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simsadventures · 4 years

Text

Not What You Think

Summary: After a difficult week hunting, you’re hoping for a relaxed night with the brothers, but then Dean does something unheard of. At least you think so.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, scenting, mated couple, angst, mild heartbreak (if such thing exists), jealousy, tears, fluff, fluffy Dean

Pairing: Alpha Dean x Omega Reader

Word Count: 3060

A/N: This oneshot was written as a song-based fic on Cry Pretty by Carrie Underwood, for my 500 Followers Appreciation. Hope you won’t mind that I added the a/b/o there, and hope all of you will enjoy this shorter piece. As always, let me know what you guys thought, feedback is everything! xx

Masterlist

You were tired more than you probably ever have. The last hunt gave you hell, and you were pretty much glad you were up on your feet, as were the boys. You were hunting a pair of shifters, pretty rare occurrence and it was that much harder because you didn’t have that much research on their behaviour in anything else than singles.

You had to go through pretty much all drainage system throughout Dallas, and then try and guess what would be their next target, and how they split the roles, being two, and all. You haven’t slept much throughout the time, taking turns to nod it off for at least a few hours, but it was pretty much useless. Your body felt as if you haven’t slept in weeks.

Despite all of this, the boys insisted that you all should go out and have some fun tonight, few drinks, maybe few dances and then head back to the motel to get the well-deserved sleep.

Your frustration was also not only connected to your lack of sleep. It had a lot to do that your Alpha, Dean, couldn’t pay as much attention as you needed him during a case, and even though you were quite used to it by now, you still needed the reassurance that the two of you were good. Alive and kicking.

But Dean didn’t even scent you ever since you killed the two stinky monsters. You kinda hoped for at least a minute before you had to head out, but when Dean got out of the shower, he just smiled at you and went out, leaving you by yourself. You sighed deeply, not really understanding what was going on, but you were willing to leave it like that, at least for the time being.

When you finally made a human being out of the mess you were before the shower, you headed towards Sam’s room and knocked lightly. Dean opened the door and beamed down at you, however, he didn’t hold out a hand for you to hold as he passed you, and you almost let out a pathetic whine escape your lips.

Get it together, Y/N, you chastised yourself, and followed him towards the car. The drive to the bar was silent, all of you in your heads, revelling in the feeling of not having to rush to save the world. At least not for the moment, and you were determined to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

For the first time in a while, you didn’t go to a hunter’s bar but chose a small normal one on the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t crowded, but you could smell a few Alphas and Omegas amongst the majority of Betas. You didn’t care, however, because there was only one Alpha for you, even if he was all but ignoring you for the past few days.

Sam and Dean sat in one of the most hidden booths in the bar, and you went to order you three beers. You looked around yourself, seeing that majority of the people were in their mid-thirties to forties but two clearly Omegas in their twenties. You wouldn’t give them two looks if their mouths weren’t salivating at a glance at the two Alphas sitting there alone. You shrugged it off and shook your head, not letting yourself being jealous of some youngsters liking what they saw. You couldn’t blame them, after all. The boys were a sight for sore eye.

The bartender was slower than usual, giving you apologetic smiles whenever an Alpha hollered at him. He was obviously new and kinda scared of the tall Alphas around him, as you judged him as Beta, maybe even Omega. You just shrugged at him and gave him one of your smiles, not letting a slow service ruin your evening. You turned around to see if Dean was already pissed, but to your surprise, you found him rather occupied.

The two girls you saw earlier were now smashed one against one of the boys, giggling, blushing and throwing their hair. Sam looked confused, and you could see the smile on his face was at best polite, trying to create a space between them. But Dean, on the other hand, seemed all too pleased with the attention. Your heart clenched in your chest.

She leaned into him and whispered something in his ear, to which he roared laughter. The girl seemed happy with herself, her hands all over your Alpha, and he let her, easily. What hurt you the most, was when Dean leaned in and touched the necklace on her neck, admiring it between his fingers, saying something softly to her.

You could feel your heart breaking, and you suddenly didn’t have the nerve to stand there and wait on a beer, while the love of your life was flirting shamelessly with a girl not 20 feet from you. Your eyes filled up with hot tears, your face suddenly flushed, and your whole body trembling.

You’ve had enough over the last few days, Dean not giving you any attention at all and now this, so you quickly turned on your heel and pretty much sprinted outside. He wouldn’t notice anyway, you thought, he was occupied enough.

You haven’t cried for so long that you knew that when the dam broke, there wasn’t a way to stop it from flowing. You were sobbing loudly, feeling your heart-shattering. You tried to go back to the last few days to see, if you made a mistake in your relationship, or if Dean was just bored with you, which he promised he never would. But he obviously lied.

The walk towards the motel was chilly, and you could feel the cold biting into your skin and settling in your bones. You shivered, wanting to give up, but, at the same time, you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. You were determined to make it to the motel, at least for the night, and then you could weigh your options. Your brain was too foggy now to do some proper thinking.

When you got to the place, you stood in front of a mirror, watching the tears stream down your face. You didn’t have it in you to fake a smile when you felt like all ground was swopped from under your feet. You were independent alright, but you were also a claimed Omega needing her Alpha, if for nothing more, then at least for keeping you warm at night.

You imagine the bright green orbs staring at you, and more tears escaped your red and puffy eyes. You were suddenly curious if anyone could cry pretty because you sure as hell couldn’t. You could dump a container of glitter on top of yourself, and your red puffed out face would still look like a wet tomato. Just with colourful glitter on top.

You were usually not the type to cry your heart out, you were actually brilliant at keeping it together. But this was too much even for you. You didn’t doubt that the exhaustion didn’t help your state of mind, but you were also sure that you’d cry and run anyway. Or you’d grab the bitch by her hair and pull her away from your Alpha. Yup, that sounded much more like you. But you didn’t have the energy to do that, and you felt like Dean wanted to have her there anyway.

You collapsed on top of the bed, curled into a little ball of sorrow and heartbreak, and continued to cry your eyes out.

Back at the bar, Dean was getting tired of the girl next to him. He just wanted to know where she get the necklace from, and now she wouldn’t leave. He glanced back to the bar, thinking that it was taking you a bit too much time to get three beers, but he couldn’t find you anywhere. He frowned and searched the bar with his eyes. When his sight was of no help, he used his other senses. He knew your scent as if it was his own, and he raised his nose and sniffed. There was still a light ting of it around, but too light for you to still be in the bar. His heart started hammering against his ribs, and he frantically looked around, standing up in the process.

Sam could sense his distress and knew that it could only mean one thing. He also stood up and looked for you, leaving the two girls under them and confused as hell.

The one who had her eyes on Dean tugged on the sleeve of his flannel. “I’m right here, Alpha,” she mewled, which made Dean growl at her. Nobody had the right to call him by his title but you. He swapped her hand from his shirt and looked around once again, even though he knew it was useless.

“Move!” He hissed at the girl, and before she could open her mouth to protest, Dean gave her a look that told her that if she wanted to stay alive, she’d move. The look in Dean’s eyes was almost feral. He didn’t know where his precious Omega was, and he would kill anyone standing in the way of him finding her.

He ran towards the bar and yelled at the bartender. He almost jumped out of his skin, but sprinted towards Dean, shaking all over his body. Dean didn’t mean to scare the poor kid, but the safety of his Omega was now the only thing on his mind.

“The girl who was standing right here, like 20 minutes ago or something, where is she? She was wearing a black-and-white flannel shirt that was a little too big for her and tight black jeans. Did you see her leave?”

The boy nodded profoundly. “Yeah, she was here waiting for me, and then I saw her turning around to some of the booths, and when she turned back her face looked like she was in a lot of pain, and then she turned around and bolted out of here, I think crying?” The boy said meekly and waited if Dean wanted something else or if he could go back to his job.

Dean thought for a second, and when he turned just like the boy had said, he realised that from the place you were waiting at, he could clearly see the booth he and Sam were sitting at. His own heart clenched in his chest. You probably saw him sitting with another Omega, and you thought he was flirting. But just because the girl thought so, it didn’t make it the truth. Dean would never cheat on you. You were like his sun, and he frantically looked for Sam, to gesture to him that they were leaving.

Sam nodded and marched towards the door, Dean in front of him. The girls who thought they had their entertainment of the night just stared at them, pissed as hell they lost twenty minutes trying to woo them, and it obviously not working.

After Dean explained everything to his brother, Sam just nodded his head curtly and thought for a second. “Where do you think she went?”

Dean sighed. “I hope she is at the motel, I tried calling her, but she isn’t picking up. I don’t know how I’m gonna find her in a strange city otherwise.”

Sam smelled the air, and the only thing he could make out was a worry. Dean was worried for his mate, which was understandable, but when the girls came to their booth, Sam gave Dean a warning look, telling him didn’t think it was the best idea. But he wouldn’t rub it in Dean’s face, the I-told-you-so talk could wait till they found you.

The drive to the motel was short, not even 5 minutes. Dean slammed the breaks in the parking lot, and bolted out of the car, running towards your shared room. Sam followed him, just wanting to see if you were there and if you were, he’d give the two of you some privacy to talk everything out.

When Dean barged into the room, you almost shot him. The revolver you always kept under your pillow was tightly sitting in your hand, even if your hands were trembling like crazy. But when the smell washed over you, you drop the gun, laid back on the bed. Sam could see your broken figure on the bed and smiled sadly, being glad you were at least safe if nothing else. He quietly closed the door, letting Dean deal with this.

Dean was standing there, unmoving. He wanted to tell you so many things, he prepared it all during the drive to the motel, but now seeing you in front of him, his strong and sassy Omega laying on the bed, shaking and silent sobs leaving your body, his mind went blank.

He took a few slow, measured steps, and squatted beside the bed, on the level of your head. You could smell him, all worried and sad, but you were too heartbroken to try and comfort him. You could feel him trying to comfort you by his smell, giving off pheromones of safety and comfort.

“Don’t,” you gently whispered and started to turn around to face away from him.

“Please, baby girl, listen to me. It’s not what you think, I swear.” Dean said, matching your hushed tone.

You prompted yourself on your elbows and looked at him, tears still staining your face. “What’s not like I think? That you ignored me for this whole trip? That you didn’t even scent me? That you didn’t let me scent you? That I don’t remember the last time, you touched me more than by patting my shoulder? Or that you were shamelessly flirting with an Omega while I was standing right there, watching you? Which of this, huh, Dean?”

Your sorrow now transformed into anger, and you had to control yourself a lot, not to start yelling at him.

He looked at you quizzically, and then the smallest smile appeared on his lips. Which made you only angrier.

“What are you smiling about? That your chosen Omega’s got her heart broken by you? You find it funny, somehow?”

He shook his head and despite your protest, sit beside you on the bed.

“No, Y/N, not at all. I hate seeing you like this and-“

“Oh, I apologise that you don’t like what you see!” You yelled, but tears welled up in your eyes and your lower lip quivered.

“Stop it, Y/N. You’re beautiful no matter what, I just hate to see you heartbroken, especially because of something I did. Because I want to protect you from all the pain in the world, and I’d kill anyone who hurt you. So it’s a little difficult for me when I’m the asshole who’s the reason behind your tears.”

He took your hand in his, and you let him. He might be an asshole, he was right about that, but you loved him nevertheless.

“So, I’ll explain it all one at a time. I wasn’t flirting with anyone. I just liked the necklace on her neck, and I thought it’d look so much better on you, and I was trying to find out where she got it. It wouldn’t go over my mark, so I wouldn’t mind that, and I believed you’d look even prettier than you already do, baby.”

“To the second one, I thought you wanted it. I overheard you talking to Sammy, telling him you need more space on your own, and I just thought-“

“Wait a second. You didn’t touch me for the whole week because you heard a snippet of my conversation with Sam and assumed that I was talking about you?”

Dean hummed but wasn’t looking at you. He was watching your hand in his, revelling in the feeling of the skin to skin contact. He missed you, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

“I wasn’t talking about us, Dean. Jesus Christ, I was talking about my working space at the bunker. It’s difficult sometimes to study the lores when you two are bickering about something, and I just thought that I would transform one of the spare rooms into my own office kind of thing. I could have my yoga matt there, among other things, and just have this little space of mine, when I need to concentrate. I would never want more space from you, in the sense that you thought.”

The realisation hit Dean, and he suddenly leaned into you and nuzzled your cheek.

“I’m an idiot, baby girl. I just, I was scared I was being too clingy, or something, because I truly hate it when we’re not together. But I tried to tame myself for you so that you wouldn’t leave me. And for the scenting,” Dean mumbled and blushed. “I scented you every night after I was sure you were asleep. I wouldn’t be able to survive a week without properly scenting you and snuggling into you. You’re a heavy sleeper, babe, and I was sure I wouldn’t wake you up.”

By the time he finished speaking, your face dried of the salty tears. Your eyes were heavy with the weight of so many tears falling from them, but you were quite sure no more would come.

“I’m so sorry for assuming something without making sure it really was the way I thought it was. From now on, I won’t assume stuff, and I’ll come and ask you first.” Dean whispered to your hair. He pulled you in his lap, his arms snaking around your waist.

“I’m sorry as well. I too assumed something… But if you ever let another Omega touch you, I’ll rip her throat out and cut your dick off, are we clear?” You mumbled into his chest, and Dean laughed heartily.

“Yes, ma’am! Won’t ever happen again, I promise.”

You hummed and let Dean lay both of you down on to the bed, spooning you from behind, and you fell asleep like that. In Dean’s arms, his nose buried in your neck, comforting himself that you were still his and that he would make sure not to ever hurt you like that again. Even if nothing was what the two of you thought.

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storytimewithlousine · 3 years

Text

Boy Next Door Chapter 4

Lousine was on cloud nine as he stared up at his ceiling trying to control his breathing. After the half hour of teasing himself in front of the window for his friend, who was also doing the same for him, and then the release after… he could barely think straight. With a satisfied smile he glanced at the window one more time before picking up his phone to already see a message from Adrian.

-That was some show! -

-Yeah, it sure was! Glad the audience had a volunteer today too; P-

-Haha yeah, I just thought… fuck it. -

-I’m glad you enjoyed it! I’m hopping in the shower now-

-Yeah, same here, ttyl! -

Lousine smiled once again before getting up to find his discarded towel from earlier to give himself some decency before heading to the bathroom. The entire time his thoughts were spinning about the boy next door.

Weeks went by in a flash for the two young men, filled with both the excitement of seeing each other nearly daily and then someone days not seeing each other at all as life kept them busy with school and family. It was on one of these busy days for Lousine when he got a text from Adri that made his heart. It simply read “Hey! My families gonna be gone for the entire weekend! Parents need to go back to our old place to finish paperwork and they’re taking my siblings. Sleep over???”

Lousine had barely finished reading the last word before his fingers typed out the fastest “Fuck yes!” before editing to “Yeah sure!”. He couldn’t believe this. He was dreaming right. The most they had done was tease through the window and some hot sexting… and now he was getting alone with him for the next 3 days? Okay Lou, take it easy, no reason to be nervous. You’re both young adults and can control your selves.

But even as he thought this, he couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities. The tension between them before that fated window flash was thick enough but now?? You couldn’t put them together in the same room without it being tangible.

Adri didn’t answer so he figured he was tidying up the place so he quickly got to work on the rest of his assignments. No way was he letting homework stop him from spending every second with that cutie across the street. So, with a deep breath he turned on his music and returned back to typing at his computer.

A little while later he was walking at what he thought was a perfectly casual pace as he passed his parents in the living room, “Hey Adri asked me to stay over for a few days until his parents get back. That cool?” Their nods were all he needed before he out the door and sprinting across the road. Trying to not to seem too eager he took a second at the door, having sprinted across both yards and road he needed to catch his breath. C'mon man get ahold of yourself. As he raised his fist to knock, he heard his phone ring and with a quick grab to check, “Doors unlocked just come inside.” Alrighty then, guess I am pretty familiar here. So, with ginger movements he opened the glass then wooden door and stepped inside. He was greeted with an empty but clean living-room that scented faintly of some freshener. So, Adri was cleaning up then it seems. Ah well he’s around here somewhere. With a small smile Lousine started stalking about hoping to catch his friend off guard.

Adrian smirked as he watched Lousine go tip toeing deeper into the house. He knew his friend would try something like this so he made sure to be done cleaning up hours ago. Now Lou was the one who would be startled. Waiting until Lou walked behind the corner to move from his hidden spot behind the large chair beside the couch, he began very careful stalking up behind him. It helped that he wore his usual home attire, sweater and Jean booty shorts so his approach wouldn’t be heard. With stealthy thoughts in mind, he sneaked up behind Lou and leaped onto his much taller back. The startled yelp was surprising to Adri for his rather masculine friend but it made it even funnier as he hooked his arms around his chest and shoulders. “Bahahaha! What was that you big scaredy cat?”, Adri couldn’t stop his snickers as Lou huffed loudly and pulled Adrian’s legs up and around his wait to help loosen the near choke-hold he was on. Adri gladly tightened his legs around his waist before laughing again. Lou rolled his eyes before jumping slightly to jostle the heckler on his back.

“Okay you try going to someone’s house when you’re invited then be attacked by some tiny gremlin!” He muttered under his breath.

“Who you calling a gremlin? This how you treat your host?” the smirk on Adrian’s face was clear as day in his voice. “Host? Is that what you’re doing here? Being hospitable by deploying yourself as my backpack?” Lou could barely contain his own snicker at the conversation they were having.

“Yeah, yeah whatever you can put me down now”, Adri wiggled his held on to legs to emphasis his point before dropping to the ground when Lou let go. Adri however wasn’t ready for the massive bear hug he was dragged into when Lou turned around, the larger boy picking Adri up by the waist like he weighed nothing. Adri immediately flushed in the face but buried his face into the crook of Lou's neck and squeezed him back as hard as he could. When he was finally released, he was red in the face and dizzy with his friend’s scent invading his inner thoughts. Oh man he smells this good, image when he… The slam of the mental door on those thoughts broke Adrian out of his trance to smile sheepishly up at his friend.

“What was that for?” Lou just grinned and shrugged, “Oh you know, being a good friend and all don’t want you feeling lonely this weekend.”

Adrian nearly snorted as he started walking back to the living room, knowing he would trail behind as he talked, “uh huh sure, me lonely? As if.” As Lou followed, he rolled his eyes and obviously checked out the very short shorts being shown off, the hem of the shorts showing more than enough butt to be labeled “fuck me shorts” as his other friends would say.

Adri glanced back before sitting down and noticed Lou's head quickly jerked up to look everywhere but at him and he had to hide a smirk but, on the inside, he was all gleeful. Ha, I knew he wouldn’t be able to not look. Perv. But the attention, at least from him, was flattering and exciting. And he had all weekend to tease him. The thought filled Adrian with such buzz that he nearly trembled as he picked up the remote and sat down, stretching his legs across the couch in an attempt to create some space to calm down.

Lousine scoffed at the couch hogging he was witnessing as Adri stretched out, raising a brow at the small boy taking up so much room. Adri just raised a brow and gave a pointed look at the couch opposite of them. Lou narrowed his eyes before grabbing Adri’s legs and lifting them up to sit down beside him then letting his legs drape across his lap, resting his hands on his friends’ calves.

Adri was both pleased and nervous about this. History showed how easily he got riled but Lou but at the same time having him this close casually in his home was new and comforting. So, he stretched out further until his feet were hanging over the edge of the couch and most of his legs were resting on if not against Lou's lap.

“Comfortable enough yet or do you need to completely lay on top of me?” Lou teased as his hand moved naturally from his calves to knees and nearly half way up this thigh as Adri slid down to rest more of his legs on him.

Adri hummed softly in mock contemplation as he faked not feeling Lou's hand gently stroking his thigh, “Hmm maybe later, it’s pretty mild temp right now.” He mused out loud as he began flipping through Netflix, trying to concentrate as Lou gently scratched his nails up and down his legs. Dear lord he didn’t wait at all did he? At this rate Adri would be trying to keep his dick in his pants before dinner and that was hours left to go. And I invited him for the whole weekend… oh god someone give me strength to not be a slut… just yet anyway.

Lousine was in his comfort zone, teasing yet casual at the same time. He could tell Adri was having some troubles thinking when he scrolled past the same movies twice. “Hey you gonna pick something or just make me dizzy with these selections spinning?”

Adri didn’t even speak, just shot him a glare before tossing him the remote. “Shut up you know what you’re doing.” The accused didn’t even have the audacity to look bashful, he just smirked and scratched down harder but this time on the inside of his thigh as he turned on a show from Netflix, Lucifer, while smirking.

“Doing? What I’m doing is hanging out with my cutsie bud while watching some tv, you’re the one who can’t focus for some reason.” Lou knew he was being a huge tease but how could he not when Adri just huffed loudly and made a show of getting comfortable that somehow spread his legs even further for him to touch? Hah, two can play the teasing game you little vixen. Always with those booty shorts on huh.

Adri slide his hands into the pocket at the bottom of his sweater to clench his fingers together as Lousine, as predicted, took advantage of the widened stance of his legs. His palm gently grazed up down and his thighs, just barely missing the growing discomfort/pleasure in the tight jean shorts between his outstretched thighs. Adri kept his eyes glued to the TV screen, not really paying attention but not wanting to glance over just yet. They’d done so much yet so little that these soft/hard alternating touched was sending sparks up and down his body. His nails were digging into his palms when Lou dragged his nails gently from the top of his knee to his inner thigh, and when his nails gently pressed into the obvious bulge growing, his breath caught. But the touch was gone almost as soon as it was there as Lou spoke up, “Hey who’s your favorite character? Amenedial is dope and all but ya know Lucifer’s voice just really perfect the character for me so I love it.”

“Huh? What? Uh yeah ummm… Maze.” Adri’s stutter was strong yet adorable to Lou as he glanced at his face, halfway turned staring at the screen in a way only someone who isn’t actually watching could.

With casual stretch Lou raised his arms grunted softly, time passing as you do when teasing your cute friend and watching tv shows. With a smirk he poked Adri in the side, “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable if you turned towards me and laid your head in my lap?” the offer sounded innocent enough but Adri knew very well the games he played now. With an eye roll he glanced back at Lou, “Oh really?”

Lou just shrugged at leaned his head into his hand, propped up by elbow. “Hey if you want a stiff neck from turning to look at the TV like this be my guest.”

Adri debated it, at least pretended to, before sliding around to flip back into his friends’ body, head finding its self in his lap easily. And a happy surprise when Lou dropped his arm around him possessively, hand resting around Adri’s shoulders and arm on his chest. And the next surprise was less happy and more… well. Adri froze a bit as he felt the more than obvious stiffness press into his cheek when he turned to nuzzle into his lap. He coughed softly to hide his shock. This guy will be the end of me…

Adri cleared his throat a bit before turning his head a bit to nuzzle his cheek against Lou's length, feeling its warmth and rigidness easily through his constant use of gym shorts. He couldn’t help but clench his legs together as he did, reveling in the knowledge that Lou wanted this to happen and taking full advantage of it. He moved his cheek up and down, side to side, giggling softly when Lou throbbed and bounced under the clothing. Adri was so caught up rubbing his face into his friend’s dick to notice when Lou's arm moved. But he did notice when he relaxed his legs from clenching them together that Lou's hand was very obviously and boldly cupping him. His hands covered his shorts between his legs and Adri whimpered softly as he raised his hips up in an attempt to get more friction.

All pretense had left the room as the two fondled and teased each other, Adri growing bolder to press his lips along his length through the shorts and making soft kissing sounds. Lou was steadily rubbing his palm against Adri’s now hard cock through the jean shorts so much that Adri was panting softly into the cloth of Lousine’s shorts and debating tearing them and Lou's off as well. Suddenly Lou reached up and gripped the smaller boys jaw, holding his face in his hand as he gazes down at him with a small smile.

Adri immediately blushed at the eye contact, despite moments before nearly making out with his clothed cock, “what… what is it?” his voice was nearly not heard but that wasn’t important at the moment.

Lou just smirks as rubs his index fingers over Adri's lips, “Open up.” Adri's eyes widened considerably at the demand before trembling slightly as he slowly opened his mouth for him. Lou gently pressed his index and middle finger slowly into his mouth and against his tongue, moving them in and out slowly. Taunting him with the idea, the thought of what could be next. Before he could even say the next command, Adri began sucking on them with his eyes closed.

He let him use his mouth however he wanted, his eyes watering just slightly as his gag reflex was tested and getting fuzzy headed as Lou treated his fingers like they were his cock as he used his mouth. Lousine’s chuckled softly as he moved his fingers in and out slowly, “Look at that, you are a needy one, aren’t you? So cute and compliant… no thoughts in there but wishing it was my cock huh?’ his voice was so low and confident and true that Adri simply moaned around his fingers and nodded.

Adri couldn’t help it and moved his hands down slowly before tugging his shorts to the side and tugged his aching hard cock out from behind the thin jeans and panties but before he could grab his length, Lou shoved his fingers as far as they could go down his throat slowly causing him to gasp and stop. Lou chuckled again, “I didn’t say you could touch.” The tone and the assumption of his role in their relationship right now made Adri drop his sands in submission, whimpering around the fingers in his throat.

Lousine slowly pulled his fingers out Adri’s mouth, watching that thin trail of spittle connect the two until it breaks. Adri was breathing deeply through his mouth as he watched Lou's face, waiting for what might come next. When Lou then reached down and gripped the still raging cock bouncing for relief between the smooth thighs of Adri, he thought his friend might’ve died and gone to heaven.

Adrian immediately moaned and bucked up into the touch, feeling the warm soft hand plus the saliva from his own mouth wetting him down. Lou slowly pumped his length, using the drool from his throat to slide up and down slowly and smoothly. Adri’s breath turned into soft pleas, his stimulated body crying out to find release after all this teasing, “ please please please Lou…. Hmm don’t stop please…”

Unfortunately, Lou was just that cruel. He slowly let go of his friends cock and watched as he humped the air pointlessly trying to find that connection. Adri eyes opened in both desperation and anger, “If you’re going to be a cock tease all weekend then you can just-!!” Adri yelped as Lou grabbed his throat at the sides and squeezed tightly. This grip only greatly slows down the blood flow to the head but in Adri’s state of mind that’s all that was needed to quite him. A strong hand on his throat and he was quiet. For the moment.

Lou grinned at how supplicant his friend was, so obedient and soft and all his at the moment. “Sit up and lean back against the couch, okay? There’s a good boy…” Adri complied nearly instantly. And what a sight he was.

Curly hair a bit worse for wear with all the head movement he did in Lou's lap, his face pink, flushed and his mouth and chin were shiny from drool. His sweater concealed his heavy breathing but his cock still stood up between his smooth thighs, tugged out from behind the booty shorts and…. Black? Panties from the edges that were shown. He looked up at Lou as he stood up and eyes widened and his breath hitched yet again. Lou was standing over him with his cock pressing tightly against his shorts, pointing right at Adri. But it wasn’t that, that made his breath falter. It was when he put a foot on the couch cushion and stood on it to stand right above Adri, and then dropped his shorts and boxers. The cock that bounced out nearly made Adri drool right there. Again.

“Are you ready, Adri?” Lou’s voice came from above but that wasn’t important, Adri thought. This cock was right in his face, swollen and bobbing for attention. Adri’s mouth parted slightly as he panted in anticipation. All the porn in the world didn’t ready him for this. Or for when Lou bent his knees to lower his cock right to his mouth and pushed it past his lips.

Lou moaned instantly as he thrusted into the hot and wet mouth of his friend, slowly pushing and pushing until he felt his stomach touch his nose then pulled out slowly. Adri was left gasping again at the experience before leaning forward to suck onto his cock for his own this time, taking him in slowly and greedily until he felt his throat stretch then open. Adri couldn’t contain his moans; he was finally living out his fantasies and they weren’t a letdown at all. As he slowly pulled off his cock, he attempted to speak up to express his joy, “Lou I-!” but once again Lou interrupted.

Lousine grabbed the boy by the curls slowly and gently, digging his hands into the roots to get a good grip before thrusting his cock back into that heavily mouth once again. He growled out obscenities and praises all at once, lost in the feeling of fucking Adrian’s throat. “Oh god… fuck yes... Adri your throat feels so good… oh fuck!”, every word ending with his pubic mound pressed tight against Adri’s nose.

And for Adri he had just entered a new arousal level. His head felt so fuzzy but his thoughts were clear. I’m getting throat fucked by Lou. Oh god. Oh god. Yes! More! Adri just kept his jaw slack as his friend used him as a fleshlight, pounding his cock into his throat over and over. Adri’s own cock was leaking so much precum that he thought he might cum just from getting throat fucked. Adri nearly did as he thought this is only Friday. He can use my throat all weekend if he wants…

It was only a few minutes but it felt like hours to both of them so when Lou grunted out that he was close, Adri nearly whimpered from disappointment. It felt so noise to give up control and be used by the person who kept him up all night. But Adri watched enough porn to know what to do. He wrapped his lips tight around Lou's cock and raised his hands to press into his ass, egging him on to finish into his throat. Give it to me, his eyes seemed to say as he looked up at Lou. Lou himself was barely able to focus but when he felt Adri do everything to make him cum, he took that invitation and grinded his hips into his mouth until he felt his cock start to pulse load after load into his friend’s throat. A solid few seconds went by while Lou panted loudly and groaned as his head presses into the wall above them, hips jerking and shaking gently until finally he pulls out.

Adri sat there gasping and breathing deeply as he tried to deal with the whirlwind that just happened. Lou just fucked your face. And you loved it. Then you made him cum down your throat. All while leaking like a fountain. Adri gently touched his dribbling cock and nearly gasped at how sensitive he was. Apparently getting face fucked was akin to pleasure for him. He glanced up again as Lou stepped down to the floor and slowly pulled his shorts up.

Lousine glanced down at Adri revering on the couch before placing a hand on the head of the couch behind him and leaning down to press his lips hard against Adri's. He could tell this was a surprise when Adri froze but quickly realized and wrapped his arms around his shoulders to kiss him back. The faint taste of his cum was there but Lou slid his tongue past Adri's lips all the same, teeth grazing Adri's bottom lip before he nipped down gently.

“So… how what’s for dinner?” Lou grinned against his lips as Adrian laughed at the question, raising an eyebrow, “All that and that’s what you ask? Besides… I just had mine.” The smirk on Adri's lips was so full of mirth that Lou shook his head before glancing down at the neglected length between Adri's legs. “I better get to working on mine then huh?”

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alottanothing · 4 years

Text

Left to Ruin: Chapter Two

Summary: The young prince meets a servant girl called Nouke. The two become best friends, spending many days in the West Garden. As Ahkmenrah grows older, he learns that he must sacrifice his time with his friend to learn the lessons his father has to teach him. Responsibilities shift and Ahk and Nouke’s friendship is tested.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 5939

Warnings: none

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe, @r-ahh-mi, @theultraviolencefan, @hah0106, @rami-malek-trash, @diasimar, @sherlollydramoine, @flipper-kisses, @ivy-miranda-2390, @txmel, @sunkissedmikky, @concentratedsassandcandy, @babyalienfairy (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: I’m so SO glad y’all are enjoying this so far! Thanks a million for the likes, the reblogs, the comments and the gif responses! They make me smile!! 🥰 Again, as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible

In the westernmost part of the palace was a garden, small in comparison to the grand courtyards were the king and queen hosted festivals throughout the year, but lusher and inherently more magical by far. On every side, the green paradise was surrounded by sturdy walls of sand-colored stone, apart from the open corridor that led back into the palace. The majority of those protective walls sat hidden by abundant foliage; lilies and shrubs and trees that fostered the illusion of no barriers at all.

At the center of the garden was a fountain with wide ledges perfect to sit and marvel at the prisms that danced across the surface of the water where lily pads floated. The air was always fragrant. Jasmine and lotus bloomed in abundance; their sweet perfume coupled with the fresh air created a welcomed reprieve from the scent of torch fire and papyrus that permeated the palace corridors. Beds of grass grew between the footstones and pathways while large palm trees sprung from the earth; their fanned leaves offering shade for the hottest afternoons. Within those walls, amid the green and vibrant blossoms, Shepseheret watched each of her children grow and play for many years.

That glittering, private oasis- nestled in a palace of gold, was Ahkmenrah’s favorite place in the world. Fore in that garden everything was soft and whimsical unlike the stone walls he called home. And in the shining green gem of a garden, the young prince met Anuksamun.

She was his age, with long wavy hair and skin a tone or two darker than his own. Her eyes were brown, but they sparkled like amber in the sunlight--not that Ahkmenrah paid much attention to such things at the age of six. It wasn't for many years that those flakes of gold would make his heart flutter.

Anuksamun was the daughter of Maketaten: the queen’s maidservant and dear friend. Her father, Ramentukah was a soldier in the pharaoh’s army. The three of them lived humbly in the palace with many of the other servants--happy for the shelter the king and queen provided in return for their service and loyalty. It never occurred to Ahkmenrah that he was (as some would claim) better than his friend; all he knew was that she loved the West Garden just as much as he did.

Every evening, Ahkmenrah would gleefully follow his mother and baby sister to the garden, excited to see his friend. The queen and her maidservant would lounge in one of the patches of grass or on the edge of the fountain watching their children play; ducking in and out of the foliage or splashing in the cool waters of the central pool when the desert heat was significantly stifling.

Ahkmenrah never felt like a prince when he was chasing after his friend, giggling as the fresh air swept through his curls as he ran. She only ever called him “Ahk”; never once did she speak of him with the title of “my prince” like so many others. He loved that shortened version of his name. Every time she called for him; it made him smile, and in return, he called her Nouke--a name that found her smiling back at him just as widely.

While the sun was high overhead, Ahkmenrah was with his father, learning what it meant to rule a vast empire. Those mornings and afternoons never lent the same joy he found in the evenings with Nouke in the garden. Nevertheless, the prince cherished the teachings his father gifted unto him. He felt a sense of pride when he stood at his father’s side during civil meetings in the throne room and council meetings. Every aspect was enthralling for his young mind.

The older Ahkmenrah grew, the more he understood and admired the way his father ruled. Merenkahre was firm when he had to be but often kind when the circumstances could warrant gentleness. The respect he bestowed upon his subjects and advisors never went unreciprocated, and Ahkmenrah noted it all; filing it away safely in his mind, so he could remember in the future. He yearned to show the same devotion and compassion to the people of Egypt when it was his turn to wear the crown. The prince learned quickly and eagerly.

No matter how old he grew, or how long his lessons would take, Ahkmenrah would always return to the West Garden. The moment his father’s teaching would come to a close, the prince would thank him for his wisdom and guidance then run through the halls until he was encompassed in the magic of the lush green, and reunited with his favorite person in all the palace.

Since meeting Nouke, Ahkmenrah always missed her. Her spirit matched his own: that unwavering need for adventure. Nouke was warm like the sun but always changing like the moon; she constantly kept him guessing, and it thrilled him. Every game was her idea, and Ahkmenrah never failed to follow her lead- whatever it may be. The whole of his childhood was written within the limits of that garden, and when he was with Nouke, he wasn’t a prince of Egypt--shackled from birth to his duty. He was just Ahk; no more, no less.

For six years that was the routine Ahkmenrah was used to: days with his father and evenings with his friend. However, as they got older, a piece of him came to realize that before long, their adventures in the serenity of the garden would come to an end. By the time he was twelve, most of his lessons ate into the hours the prince was used to spending with Nouke. It made him sad to think of her alone in their garden with no one to keep her company, but a large part of him understood how important it was to learn his father’s trade. He could only hope that she understood too.

It was exceptionally hot the afternoon Ahkmenrah followed his father out of the palace and into the training yards located on the grounds. He’d often heard his brother speak of the open field where the pharaoh’s soldiers trained along with the Medjay. It was a new sight and Ahkmenrah’s hunger for adventure lent him attentive eyes. Men and boys, most around his age, were practicing with all manners of weapons; spears, bows, and the khopesh. Ahkmenrah watched them all, wondering why his father had brought him to such a place.

“Three times a week, we will be meeting here so that you may learn to defend yourself,” his father noted as though he had heard his son’s thoughts.

Merenkahre stopped a good distance away from the other sparing soldiers and turned to face his son. Kamuzu stood at his side, holding the same stoic expression that Ahkmenrah could never really make heads or tails of. The Medjay deftly removed the khopesh from its place on his hip and offered it wordlessly to the prince. Ahkmenrah’s brows furrowed and he blinked at the curved blade apprehensively, confused as to how this lesson applied to being king.

“Take it,” his father encouraged, easily drawing his own matching weapon. “Test its weight.”

Ahkmenrah bit his lip, eyeing the khopesh wearily a moment more before obeying. A gasp escaped his lungs in mild shock when the heavy weapon fell from his hands, and into the dirt--it was much heavier than he had thought. Quickly, he retrieved the blade and held it with a firm, two-handed grip, looking sheepishly back to his father. The ghost of a smile played around Merenkahre’s lips, which put Ahkmenrah more at ease.

“Test its weight,” he said again, slowly gliding his own blade through the air with one hand.

Ahkmenrah mimicked the movements as best he could; the weapons cumbersome weight almost too difficult for him to manage properly.

“Very good,” Merenkahre grinned.

“Am I going to learn everything as Kahmunrah has?” Ahkmenrah asked, suddenly more interested to learn.

His older brother only liked weapons and fighting; he found no beauty in gardens or shared the young princes' sense of adventure. Thus, Ahkmenrah knew; Kah never wanted to be the big brother he wanted. But if he learned to fight, maybe he would like him more--the prince hoped so anyway.

A slight frown tinted the pharaoh’s expression, but he quickly hid it. “To a degree, I will teach you bow and spear and khopesh until you are comfortable enough with each.”

“Oh,” Ahk said, slightly disappointed. Kah only liked people who were as skilled as he was. “Okay.”

Ahkmenrah followed his father’s guidance, swinging the blade how he was instructed in repetitive motions, each one faster than the last until the weapon no longer felt so clumsy in his hands.

It was weeks before he was truly at ease with any kind of weapon in his hand. Still, he knew he would never harbor the same joy his brother seemed to when it came to such things.

“Am I going to learn how to strategize war next?” Ahkmenrah asked idly after a long day in the training yard.

His muscles ached as he walked back to the palace alongside his father and Kamuzu. Merenkahre didn’t answer right away, taking his time to think as his features grew pensive, causing Ahkmenrah to wonder what it was about his question that warranted such careful study.

“Your Consul of Montu will be responsible for such dealings,” Merenkahre decided, finally. “You must trust his word, should a time ever come that you need such knowledge."

That made sense, but Ahkmenrah pressed anyway, “but didn’t you know how to--”

“I learned because my father needed men to fight in wars he wanted no part of,” Meren explained sternly. “Do you plan to seek out war during your reign?”

Ahkmenrah shook his head, folding under his father’s unusually intense gaze, “No.”

“Then what you have learned will suffice,” the pharaoh’s expression lightened as they neared the palace. “We are done for today. Your mother tells me you are missing a friend of yours--go.”

Ahkmenrah’s face lit up, all previous thought of war and fighting long behind him. He quickly thanked his father and took off running.

The sun had only begun to sink into the distant horizon when Ahkmenrah made it to his favorite garden. He'd only stopped on his journey long enough to scrounge up a snack that he could share. As a servant, Nouke and her family were given small rations and often went hungry--a thought the prince hated. It only took her offhandedly mentioning she’d gone without one day for Ahkmenrah to make a habit of bringing something from his own, abundant supply. She had refused the first time, too proud it seemed to want his help; it was only when he offered to share that Nouke would accept his offerings. He would purposely eat slower, letting her take as much as she needed, and he would smile; happy to have helped his friend.

Nouke sat on the edge of the shallow pool; her dark hair pulled into a loose braid- the slightly darker tan pigment of her skin glowing in Ra’ s golden rays. Her face was turned away, eyes fixated on the lily pad she glided over the water's surface in absent motions. Even from a distance, and without the benefit of seeing her face, Ahkmenrah could tell a sadness had taken root in her. Something even the magic of their treasured garden could not properly deter. How long had it been since he had seen her? Days? Weeks? Much too long.

Her somber aura shifted however when Nouke caught sight of him with an idle glance. A gasp sounded on a quick inhale when her eyes met his--the lily pad forgotten. All of the gloom that had been constricting her spirit no longer bound her. She dazzled him with a smile that matched the sparkle in her eyes, and when she ran to greet him, she did so on fumbling feet, excitement quickening her gait to nearly a fault. Catching the blunder painted a grin onto the prince's lips as his pace hastened too, eager to be near her.

“Ahk!” Nouke’s honey-sweet tone was like a song to his ears after weeks of nothing but his father’s gruff voice in his head.

The sound alone was enough to pull his smile tighter and prompt his heart to beat more fervently (for whatever reason). Unceremoniously, she threw her arms around his shoulders, enveloping him with a friendly embrace, with sufficient force to almost send Ahkmenrah stumbling backward.

“I thought maybe you’d forgotten me.”

“Never,” he assured her, returning her hug with just as much warmth.

She was smiling even brighter than before when they pulled apart, her eyes meeting his gladly.

“Sorry I’ve been away so long,” Ahk said, brandishing a peace offering: a linen-wrapped bundle of fresh dates and figs to share.

She glanced at the proffered fruit, then back to him with silent rejoice before tugging him by the arm across the garden to one of the shady patches of grass. She gave his arm another yank, tugging him down to sit beside her. The cool patch of grass was a welcome contrast to the hours he spent under the sun in the training yard. He sat with his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands relishing in the soft textures and the company of his friend. Nouke waited patiently for him to pass her a portion of the food he had brought--like usual--and together they ate in content silence.

“I missed you,” Nouke said suddenly, in a rather sheepish tone that was unbefitting of her usual ebullient demeanor.

When the prince chanced to meet her gaze, he found she had spoken more to her food than to him, still, he smiled. He was so used to her exuberance, but he liked this timorous side of her as well.

“I missed you too,” Ahk said, sliding her the last two dates.

He could have eaten them easily, having worked up an apatite swinging a blade around the better part of an afternoon, but he had the luxury of ample meals whenever he called for one, unlike her.

The shy exterior melted into the lively attitude he was accustomed to, which had always lent a fullness inside of him that he couldn’t quite place. Nouke was the only person he knew to incite such a feeling.

“What is it your father’s been teaching you?” she asked, noshing on the last piece of fruit.

A tiny frown worked onto Ahk’s features, the shift in the curve of his mouth enough to elicit a slight ache in the muscles of his face. Nouke had always been curious about his lessons, and usually, he was happy to tell her the wisdom his father offered. However, after so much time away, Ahk didn’t want to discuss topics that had been pounded into his brain since he was six.

Ahkmenrah pulled absently at the green blades, and bit his bottom lip as he shrugged, “A lot of the same……just more.”

He sighed and when he caught her thin frown, he mustered a smile for her benefit, not wanting to burden her with his own troubles. It wasn’t right for him to complain, especially to her.

“He has been teaching me how to fight like Kahmunrah.”

“Oh?” she frowned, more out of wariness than sadness, but only briefly. “That must be fun. Is your brother helping?”

Ahk shook his head, “No.”

When he told his big brother that he was learning to fight, Ahkmenrah hoped it would spark some sort of kinship between them--a shared interest. Even a hint of intrigue would have been something. Instead, Kah had scoffed and pushed him out of his way. He didn’t understand why his brother treated him so.

“Sometimes I wish my father would make Kahmunrah pharaoh instead of me.”

Nouke glanced at him, surprise pressing a furrow onto her brow, “Why?”

Ahk shrugged, “I don’t want to spend my whole life in a palace. Kah isn’t going to be pharaoh, and he has traveled and seen so many places. I want to see them too.”

Nouke grew quiet, and he watched her thoughts manifest in waves of her pensive expressions, until a smile steadily unfurled across her features. Ahk smiled too, a reflex reaction to seeing her face light up with restored spirit.

“I think I know a way you can have a little adventure,” she told him before he could ask what had prompted her grin.

When she didn’t impart more of an explanation, intrigue contorted the prince’s face, his question written in the hook of his brow. Without a word, she tugged him off the cushion of grass and to his feet; he barely had time to find his footing before she was yanking him deeper into the garden. Ahkmenrah knew better than to ask where it was she was taking him; he followed her lead and reveled in the surge of thrill the mystery brought.

Nouke led him to the westernmost edges of the garden, skillfully cutting through the dense foliage that hid the towering wall until they were in the small space between the green brush and sand-colored stones. She stood for a moment, her hand still gripping his as she studied the bricks carefully.

“Nouke?” the prince asked, his eyes bouncing between her and the wall, then back to her.

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she surrendered his grasp and began pushing gently on individual stones, causing Ahk’s confusion to grow. He was about to ask her again when one of the bricks fell loose to the other side with a quiet thud.

“Found it!” Nouke beamed proudly.

Ahk’s mouth hung agape in awe, blinking as she pushed more of the bricks free until the breach was large enough to crawl through.

“How…?”

“I had a lot of time to explore when you stopped visiting,” she explained with a shrug.

Ahk frowned, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Now are you gonna follow me on an adventure or stay in these walls?”

She was already climbing through the opening with ease as she spoke. The prince bit his lip as he smiled and nodded. His heart was pounding and his whole body tingled with excitement; of course, he was going to follow his friend on an adventure--he would follow her anywhere.

“Kamuzu!” Ahk shouted, knowing it would be better to have someone to watch out for them than not.

“No,” Nouke frowned, gazing at him with concern from the other side of the wall.

“It’s okay, he won’t tell anyone where we go. He'll just protect us,” he promised with a grin and deftly climbed through.

The sensation of hot sand beneath his feet for the first time was one the prince would never forget; it’s soft but coarse texture so alien but grand. Hundreds of tiny grains shifted and moved heedlessly around his toes--free--like he suddenly was. Ahk had only ever known the packed dirt of the training yard and the hard stone corridors of the palace. Sand was new, and it pulled a tight smile onto his lips.

Directly on the other side of the garden wall was a stretch of rural landscape that grew more arid the further west he looked beyond the Nile. All of it open and dotted with sparse, dried foliage: land that had yet to be peppered with stone structures. Along the banks of the mighty river green sprouted creating a striking contrast to the surrounding dry sands. It was like stepping from one magical garden into another, but this one had no walls.

Something ethereal washed over Ahkmenrah as he took in the grandeur of it all; the sights and smells and the horizon stretching out endlessly with nothing to keep him from running to where the sun was sinking into it. Everything he knew was encased in stone walls. It would have been so easy to venture into that vast countryside, but that sense of duty, that had been all but bred into him, kept him where he stood--yearning.

Nouke was already strolling along the riverbank, free of the yoke of responsibility. He was envious, to a degree, but not enough to hinder the joy he felt seeing her so uninhibited wading in the waters of the Nile. His feet sank into the sands as he stood watching her, finding the grains growing colder the deeper he rooted. Ahk wanted to follow her; he found himself glancing over his shoulder to the hole he had crawled out of.

Kamuzu managed to fit through and placed himself at the prince’s side, wearing the same stoical expression he always did.

“My father wouldn’t approve of me being outside the walls like this,” Ahk mused.

Kamuzu’s austere features softened, and one side of his mouth quirked into a slight smile, “Then we simply won’t tell him.”

With a nodding gesture, the Medjay encouraged the prince to join his friend. It was enough permission to chase away the invisible tether keeping his feet from moving, and with a flash of white teeth, Ahkmenrah grinned and ran to catch up with Nouke.

“Come feel the water, Ahk!” Nouke said, pulling him into the steadily flowing current of the Nile.

The water was up to their knees, and the cool rush around his legs was akin to the sand under his feet. The undeniable essence of life flowed around him, invigorating his senses and tingled every nerve in his body. The stagnant water in the pool of his garden would never compare to the constantly moving surge of the Nile. Ahk paid no attention to how wet his fine linen garments became; he wanted to stand there forever, feet buried in the soft river bed, water flowing freely around him as the sun warmed his shoulders. Nouke, however, took his hand and pulled him along with the current. The further from the palace they strode the less weight Ahkmenrah felt on his shoulders. There, he was just Ahk, and that was enough for him.

That stretch of bank along the mighty river became their second favorite place to venture. Many evenings that followed, Nouke and Ahk would tuck themselves away in their new oasis, a secret hideaway that allowed the masks of their reality to fall, letting them each be more and less than who they were meant to be.

***

Like the ever-changing waters of the Nile and the shifting desert's sand, the passage of time reshaped even the closest of paths. Responsibilities grew more significant as they grew older; placing a very irrefutable wedge between Ahkmenrah and his friend from the garden. Though they oft fought it.

At thirteen, Nouke was no longer simply a child of a maidservant, but a servant herself. She was expected to see to many chores at any hour, keeping her from the garden of her youth. As for the prince, his time of wistful adventure ran out too; Ahkmenrah was rarely out of his father’s sight. Merenkahre’s lessons shifted into actions. The pharaoh had taken to surrendering his seat on the throne or at the council, allowing the prince a taste of the future that awaited him.

The first time his father sprung such a notion onto his shoulders, Ahkmenrah was sure his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. Every eye was on him, bearing down with a scrutiny that made his throat dry, and his palms sweat. He knew it was a test, one that he had been studying for most of his life. However, despite the years of shadowing his father’s every move, hearing his every command and testament, Ahkmenrah felt entirely out of his element. All his lessons were lost somewhere in the haze of his mind, and he desperately scrambled to recall what he had stored away. The only comfort was his father at his side.

Meren stood, mostly in silence, watching, lending quiet guidance, and solidarity. Even so, Ahkmenrah spent his first time as a ruler, with a white-knuckled grip to the armrest’s of the throne to keep his hands from shaking. That first time was the hardest. In the tests that followed, however, Ahkmenrah's confidence built more and more until he could present himself with the same regality of his father.

After a month of afternoons seeing to civil matters and addressing the council like a king, Ahkmenrah had never been more comfortable with the path the gods had laid before him. However, despite the comfort he felt, the notion of being pharaoh--and not just playing at it--had not yet taken hold. In his mind, he still had much to learn, but when his father summoned him to an early council meeting to discuss how much he'd learned in such a short amount of time; Ahkmenrah knew, his time as ruler was fast approaching.

That particular council meeting began like any other. Merenkahre sat at his normal seat at the head of the table while Ahkmenrah sat attentively next to his brother a few seats away. Most of the talk was the usual chatter: matters that ranged from trivial to pressing. Each warranted equal amounts of discussion regardless of how frivolous--a lesson Ahk learned early much to his childish frustration. When all other affairs had been seen to properly, Merenkahre stood, causing a hush to befall the room.

“My friends, there is but one matter remaining that I wish to discuss,” the pharaoh’s line of sight moved to his youngest son, and Ahk shifted, suddenly nervous. “I have been blessed in my time as pharaoh, and it is my wish that the same will be for the pharaoh who follows me.”

Merenkahre smiled proudly upon Ahkmenrah and gestured for the other men to follow his gaze. “As you are all aware, it was my intention to crown Ahkmenrah during his fifteenth year. But, during these past few weeks, he has shown wisdom beyond his years, and aptitude that far surpassed mine at his age.”

Ahkmenrah’s stomach twisted into a knot, and his heart was beating rapidly. Still, the prince held onto his composure, listening to his father, while sneaking side glances to Kahmunrah--seeing his indifferent expression meld into a disapproving sneer.

“Thus, I feel it is time, that I step aside and let Ahkmenrah take his place among Egypt's mighty pharaohs.” Merenkahre finished, holding his prideful simper.

A commotion broke out within the chamber as advisors sang praise to the pharaoh’s wisdom, all but one. Kahmunrah alone slouched into his chair, pouting, while the room congratulated the younger prince on his accomplishment. A lump grew in the back of Ahkmenrah’s throat; a cumulation of nerves, excitement, and a little guilt. No one had told Kahmunrah that he was never going to wear the crown, he figured it out on his own. And the bitterness it caused him had never been more palpable than in that moment.

Ahk swallowed that psychological clod in his throat before it grew large enough to choke him, and let his focus fall inward. A part of him considered forfeiting the crown with the demand that it be given to Kah so Ahkmenrah could spend his days exploring with Nouke. However, Ahkmenrah had endured years of teachings, and he wasn’t about to let his father’s teachings be for not. He didn’t want to let his father down, or his people. The prince wanted to be king, just not so soon.

“I’m not entirely sure he is prepared to rule, father,” Kahmunrah noted with an insouciant shrug.

Merenkahre shot his eldest son a vehement glare.

Kah raised his open palms as a sign of surrender, “I assure you; my reasoning does not come from my own desire to rule--”

“Then where?” Meren demanded.

“Your youngest son may possess the mind of a great ruler, but how can he rule the country if he does not know the country?”

The pharaoh’s intense leer waned as he considered Kah’s words thoroughly.

“I have seen much of this land,” Kah boasted. “The pyramids, where the Nile bleeds into the sea--I understand Egypt and her people. Ahkmenrah understands little more than the palace walls.”

The pensive expression on the pharaoh’s face melded back into a heavy suspicious leer.

“Are you suggesting that I crown you because you have seen all of these things?”

Kah’s jaw clenched as frustration strained his features, obviously upset his father gauged him with such mistrust. Nevertheless, Kahmunrah kept his tone even when he spoke his reply.

“My travels hardly give me merit to rule, father. I am simply suggesting the boy may appreciate the land and the people more if he sees them for himself.”

“Your son makes a fair point, my king,” one of the advisors noted.

“Yes,” another agreed.

“And had you not seen much of the land and your people by the time you came to rule as well, father?” Kah added.

The pharaoh grew quiet again, rubbing his chin as he pondered. Ahk, however, sat, without finding words to speak, not entirely sure what was going to happen. It was rare Kah offered a suggestion that did not somehow benefit himself--Meren and Ahkmenrah knew that, which made the entire notion somewhat suspicious.

“And I suppose you want me to leave you in command while I am away with your brother?" Merenkahre tested, eyes growing narrow again.

Kah’s lips pressed into a firm line, his irritation becoming more difficult for him to stifle.

“You are the pharaoh, father. You will put into command whoever you think worthy,” his caustic tone matched his glance as he looked to Ahkmenrah and back to the pharaoh. “Just as you have always done.”

Ahk let his focus fall to the wood grain of the table in front of him, sinking lower in his chair, feeling Kah’s cold leer like daggers piercing his skin. He hated feeling guilty for something that was not completely his fault.

“Very well,” Merenkahre said finally. “I will think on this matter for a day, but it is likely the young prince, and I will soon be charting a course along the Nile.”

As the council adjourned, the apprehension that had been gnawing and tightening the knots in Ahkmenrah’s stomach slowly began to shift into something akin to excitement. Several of the advisors lingered, speaking to his father and brother about potential places to venture, but the prince didn’t stick around to learn where it was he and his father may be going. He liked the surprise.

It was early in the day, and he was sure there were to be more lessons awaiting him, but Ahkmenrah excused himself without a word, wanting nothing more at that moment then to share the good news with his best friend.

He went to their garden first in search of Nouke, but apart from the colorful birds, flitting throughout the greenery, it was empty. Curiosity pulled him deeper into the garden however, when his eyes scanned the furthest line of foliage, knowing the secret passage hidden behind the bushes. But, all the stones were as they should be; she was somewhere in the palace, and while a frown threatened to curl his lips downward, Akh would not let his excitement be hindered.

The prince wandered the grounds the better part of an hour before he found her among a group of maidservants, hanging washed linens to dry in the sunny courtyard. Immediately, Ahk's heart fluttered and beat faster and his smile spread across his face with tingling fervor. A chorus of surprised gasps echoed as he cut through the gathered women without ceremony. Some dropped to their knees while others bowed their heads respectfully, and all of them greeted him with a hushed “my, prince.” Nouke, however, beamed; giving him no such formal greeting. When Ahk took her hand, another gasp filled the open air of the courtyard, and the prince almost rolled his eyes at the drama of it all. Nouke didn’t ask when he whisked her away from her chores on hurried feet, she just laughed and held on to his hand like she would follow him wherever he wanted to take her.

Ahkmenrah was out of breath when he finally sat them down on the edge of the fountain in their garden. Nouke eyed him with amused confusion, waiting for his explanation with a soft smile painted on her lips.

“I have…to tell you…something…fantastic,” Ahk husked out between labored breaths.

Her dark eyes lit up, teaming with inquiry and that spirit he so admired. He took another moment or two to settle his breathing before he spoke.

“My father is going to take me on a trip to see the cities and landmarks of Egypt!” he was only vaguely aware of how fast he was talking; his excitement made it difficult for him not to. “It was Kah’s idea--he said a king should know his people. My father is going to make his ruling tomorrow and well…if he decides we are going; I'm going to ask that you come too.”

When he’d finished, Nouke’s excitement did not match his own, and that was enough to impede the joy he felt. She wasn’t even truly looking at him; her spirit dulled as she drew into her own thoughts.

“Nouke?” he asked gently, trying desperately to read her doleful aura.

She shook her head as her entire frame wilted, “I can’t go with you.”

Ahkmenrah’s face fell, and he met her sad eyes in silent question.

“I wish I could, Ahk. But I’m a servant. You're a prince. Your father would never allow someone like me to go with you.”

She was right. Servants were not companions to princes. Nouke to him, however, was so much more than a servant, she was his friend; she always would be no matter her station. His father would not understand that though, and the notion yanked ravenously on his heartstrings. All at once, the idea of adventuring lost its luster if he couldn’t share those experiences with her; and for a second time, he considered giving up the crown.

“I look forward to the stories you’ll bring back,” she said casting him a smile he knew was for his benefit and nothing more. “Promise you will tell me everything as soon as you return.”

Ahkmenrah nodded, sadness in his tone, “I promise.”

It fell quiet in the garden for a long time, the only sound coming from the rustling leaves caught in the desert breeze and the songbirds that played among them. Ahk’s eyes followed their sound, envying the freedom their wings granted them; with a few flaps, they could soar miles away.

“I have to get back to work,” Nouke murmured, sounding as though she didn’t want to leave him.

She gave him another rueful smile, and he did his best to match it.

“My father is probably looking for me,” he said, also not wanting to leave.

Before he turned to say his good-bye, Nouke pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Pink tinted her features and she smiled again, that time not quite as sad.

“Have fun on your adventure, Ahk.”

The prince watched her go, his fingers caressing the spot where she had so brazenly kissed him, feeling utterly torn. Ahkmenrah yearned to see Egypt’s centuries-old monuments and cultures, but part of him wished to stay in the palace forever where Nouke was. Surely a pharaoh who could do as he pleased could remain friends with a servant. The aching knot in his stomach, however, told him such a notion was not going to be so easy.

Next Chapter-> Chapter Three: Across the Sands

#Ahkmenrah #Ahkmenrah x Original Character #Ahkmenrah Fanfiction #Night at the Museum #NATM #NATM Fanfiction #Left to Ruin #Rami Malek Character #Rami Malek Character Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction #Rami Malek

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ladywinterwitch · 4 years

Text

A Long Flight

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are coming back from a little vacation. On the flight home things gets quite interesting.

Warnings: mild harassment (nothing triggering), jealous Bucky, mentions of smut/teasing, female masturbation, fingering, public sex, fluff, 18+ if you’re younger I advise you to not read this.

Word Count: 2080

A/n: This is one of those ‘little-to-no-plot’ but ‘total-smutty’ kind of situations. Ironically, I wrote a drabble for this while I was on a flight for Amsterdam. No one cares BUT, the point is: inspiration is everywhere. And boredom, too. Anyways, enjoy.

(gif not mine)

-It was good until it lasted.- you leaned your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder, his arm rubbing yours with his flesh hand.

-I know. I don’t know if I’m ready to see Sam again.- he joked and you went back to a sitting position while giving him a look.

-You’re impossible. Both of you.- you scolded and he laughed, chasing your face with his to give you a kiss.

-I was messing around, baby. C’mere.- you stood still letting him capture your lips sweetly.

The two of you were coming back from a nice weekend getaway in Spain. The last times had become a little too much and you didn’t get to spend much time together like you used to, so Bucky said ‘fuck it, we’re going on a vacation’ and the morning after you were gone.

Fury had yelled at both of you for not saying anything, but you honestly didn’t care. You had no missions planned til monday, and you assured to be back before then. You choosed a nice and simple bed & breakfast on the seaside of a little and quiet city in Spain.

Needless to say that you didn’t leave your room for two days straight. You went out just to eat and spend some time at the beach, the rest of the time? Sex. Entire hours spent in bed, wether it was to cuddle or to have sex it didn’t matter. It was your little paradise. You couldn’t get anough of him and he had the stamina, so it was a match.

And now that small time of peace was over. You loved your lives at the compound with the others and you didn’t mind your jobs, but sometimes it all could get a little overwhelming.

You were headed to the airport, near eleven hours in front of you. You already had breakfast so you were ready to go to the controls before the gate.

About twenty minutes later you and Bucky reach the airport's controls and start to put your bags on the black roll, Bucky is in front of you, already going through the scanner. He obviously beeps and they stop him. He rolls his eyes and takes off his jacket and gloves. The airport staff, a little embarrassed, lets him go and he dresses himself again. A cap always on his head. He knew that it was better to keep a low profile. He goes on to fetch your bags. You get told to go next, and when go through the scanner and it beeps. You frown, knowing that you don't have anything on yourself that could cause the problem.

A male security guy approaches you with a smile. You tilt your head to the side imperceptibly. A person fails a scanner controll in an airport and a security person smiles like he had just asked you out with a bad pick up line? Yeah, no. You didn’t say anything. trusting the fact that other colleagues were there, also you wouldn’t want to make a scene in public.

-Miss, do you have anything on?- his brows furrow in an even too cartoonish manner to be genuine, then he pretends to realize what he said and laughs a bit -Oh, I’m sorry, I meant anything metal, obviously.-

You keep a straight face, an almost missible algid smirk on your lips. You were sure that if he wasn’t that stupid, he would’ve realized that you were burning him alive with your gaze.

-No. Belt and phone are in the bags. No earrings, rings or similiar.- you respond. He looks back at his female colleague.

-Search her.-she shrugs. He turns back to you with a fake sorry face.

-I’m going to ask you to take off your shoes and jacket, miss.- taking a deep breath, you comply, ubuttoning your bomber jacket and taking off your heel boots.

-Onward.- the man orders. You walk through the scanner and it beeps again.

Bucky was getting annoyed. Did they think that you had some kind of weapon hidden in your fucking bra? For God’s sake. Actually, that could’ve been a possibility, but not off duty. The security guy then slightly smirks, but hides it.

-Miss, I'll have to ask you to open your arms while I check you.- he says. You shift on your position, starting to feel more uncomfortable than irritated. You still do as he told, wanting to get on with it as fast as possible, while he starts to pass his hands all over you. He starts from the arms and goes down and down. You notice that he's not exactly patting you as he should, but it's more like he's caressing you.

Bucky has had enough and steps forward just a moment before the guy reaches your hips, he steps forward. He's right behind him, and seems even taller than he actually is. Which is a lot.

-If you don't mind taking your fucking hands off of my girlfriend before I punch you, we have a flight to take.- he warns with a low voice. You blush and the guy gulps and steps away from you.

-She's clear.- he says to his colleague, who wasn't even paying attention.

You get your shoes and jacket back on and walked over the controls, noticing that Bucky had already took your stuff off the roll. You grab your stuff and go, meanwhile he stares back at the guy one last time before putting an arm around your shoulders protectively.

You were finally seated in your assigned places and the flight was already one hour in.

-I hope we don't get delayed again.- you say casually arranging the bag in the space above your heads after taking out your long coat. It was freaking cold in that plane.

-That fucking piece of shit. How dare he touch you like that? That wasn't professional at all, that was harassment.- he says through gritted teeth. You take your seat next to him and cover his clenched fist with your hand.

-I know baby, now it's over. Let's not think about it okay? Don't let that ruin your mood.- you murmur softly. He takes your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth, then planting a lingering soft kiss on the back.

He has his eyes closed. You smile a little, raising the little plastic divider between you and snuggle close to him, placing you head on his shoulder. He hugs you and you stay like that for a while. You fall asleep without even realizing it.

Your eyelids flutter a few times before adjusting to the soft light.

-Hey sleepy head- he says sweetly, his lips curled up in a smile. You mirror his expression and then raise yourself a little to get into the normal sitting position.

-How long do we have left?- you ask. He looks at his phone.

-Still five hours to go.- he answers making you huff a bit. You yawn, your mouth hid thanks to your arm.

-Did you rest a bit, baby?- you ask while you take a sip of water from your bottle. He nods.

-Yeah, a couple of hours. Fell asleep after and woke up before you. My little sleeping beauty.- he kisses your neck making you giggle. You shrug him off delicately.

-Alright, human alarm. Anyways, I'm kinda hungry, you hungry honey?- you start to search for your wallet while he gets close to your ear, whispering.

-Yeah, I wouldn't mind to eat you out, actually.- you blush instantly and almost drop your bag. You widen your eyes, biting your lip to hide a smile.

-Bucky! You can't say things like that in public.- you look at him in shock, but you're actually more turned on by the idea tha you care to admit.

He chuckles, ignoring your words, peppering your neck, jaw and cheek with kisses. You can’t help but chuckle, biting your lip to try to stifle it. You can feel his grin in the process.

-You just need to be quiet.. That guy there has headphones on, the two in front of us are sleeping, the two behind are watching a movie.. And we have a pretty coat over there to stay warm and cozy..- he said the two last words with a tone that made you heat up in more hidden places. You were slowly losing yourself in his touch, your willpower fading slowly.

-Bucky.. We can’t.. it’s kind of illegal ya know? We should help respect the law, not break it for public obscenities.- you say barely concentrating anymore.

-Mmh, what a good girl I have. Playing by the rules, but I wonder if you’ll resist when I’ll be making you come on my fingers.- his voice is tempting, filthy and low enough that you barely hear more than a hot breath against your ear, making you shiver.

He takes the coat, covering the two of you as if it was a blanket. He slowly grabs your leg by the knee and places it on his, spreading you just enough. Then he puts his hand under your shirt, massaging your breats, then going lower to your waist, to your belly, and finally he reaches to open your belt and unzip your jeans.

You whimper and turn your head to him, nuzzling his cheek. But he's concentrated on his actions and doesn’t mind you, slipping his warm hand in your pants, rubbing lightly your mound.

-I bet you're already dripping for me honey...-he murmurs, moving his hand in your panties.

-Bucky.- You choke a moan and grip harder on his metal arm that was around your shoulders in a half-hug to help your cover a bit.

-Ahh, there you are. You're so wet baby. It does excite you, doesn't it? Being here, in public, with my hand in your pussy. And here I though you were a good girl. Are you, baby, my little sweet girl?- his voice is pure sin, and you know that you should stop him, but you can’t help yourself.

-Yes. I am, please baby- you respond softly.

-Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want- he licks a stripe on your neck and you feel yourself getting even wetter, if that’s possible.

-Touch me, please- you started to grind yourself on his hand, not too fast though, still keeping your calm appearence.

-I am, sweetheart. You'll have to be a little more precise.- you felt a smirk. His mockery made you frustrated.

-Put your fingers in me. Make me cum. Heppy now?- you managed to say between gritted teeth. You wanted to jump on him and fuck him right then and there, but you couldn't. He chuckled darkly.

-Was that so hard?- he started to circle your clit faster and then he inserted one finger, making you jump a little. A second following short after.

You let out a quite loud moan, but you covered it with a cough quickly. No one seemed to have noticed.

-You really want to get us caught, uh?- he laughed teasingly. You would have wanted to slap that shit eating expression off his handsome face, but you were starting to get close and really couldn’t focus on anything else.

-I-I'm.. Baby..Fuck, Bucky I’m so close-you stuttered raising you hand and putting it on his cheek trying to find some sort of reassurance.

-Shh, I know love. Let go, I'm right here. Cum for me baby.- he whispered on your lips before kissing you deeply.

He curled his fingers in a particular good spot and you were gone for good. You came on his fingers, his kiss swollen lips swallowing your soft moans. He helped you ride our your orgasm, then retreated his hand from your cunt, a involuntary whimper escaping your lips.

You were a little dizzy when you turned your head to look at him. When you did you saw that he was casually licking clean his fingers, like he just eated whipped cream and not you. He hummed and then looked at you,a glimpse of amusement in his eyes. Your mouth slightly agape. You shook your head to recompone yourself and buttoned back the belt and pulled up the zip. You hoped that your flushed face and glassy eyes didn’t betray your actions.

-Baby girl, I think I need to make a trip to the toilet. Would you be so kind to let me pass?- he asked, motioning slightly at his crotch. You swallowed, getting up. You still felt your legs like jelly. He got up and went past you, but you stopped him by taking his wrist.

-Just wait until we get out of here, then I'll have my revenge.- you whispered at him, raising an eyebrow warningly. He smirked imperceptibly.

-I look forward to it.-

That’s it. We stay filthy I guess :D Hope you enjoyed it, to the next one folks

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illfoandillfie · 5 years

Text

Seaside Rendezvous - Part 3

READ PART 1 // PART 2

Request: Can you please write a hc for going on a island vaca at a resort with your family after college finals and you meet joe (also a college student) and you two see each other a ton but you are always with your family so not much happens but flirty small talk and you both end up having a lot of sexual tension and go into one of your rooms when you’re family is out and just some smut happens?

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (FINALLY) 18+, Golf related double entendres, not-quite-hate sex, unprotected sex,but also protected sex, choking, oral sex (m & f receiving), mild spanking, shower sex, mentions of edging, handjob.

Words: 8969

A/N: Ummmm, I don’t even know what to say. I kinda can’t believe I’ve finished it. Or how many words I took to do it. Thank you so fucking much to the anon who sent in the original request because this was so much fun to write. I really hope you enjoy the payoff for all the bullshit I put them through in the first two chapters. It might just be because I’m still so close to this story but I kinda wanna write more for them so if you have blurb requests about what else they got up to or whatever send them my way lmao

Taglist: @laedymoon @somekind-ofcheese @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @bowiequeen @hannafuckingsucks @bemy-clementine

@ramibaby @briarrose26 @d34d-0n-th3-1ns1d3 @painkiller80 @stephydearestxo

You cursed yourself when you woke and remembered what was in store for the day. You cursed your Mom for being so intent on manipulating your love life. You cursed your Dad for being the type of guy who would make friends with the first man he talked to. You cursed Joe for being the first man your Dad talked to. And for everything else that’d happened last night. And then you cursed yourself again for getting stuck in this position and for flirting with Joe in the first place and for not sleeping with him when you had the chance. The very quick orgasm you’d been able to rub out before the rest of your family returned to your rooms wasn’t anywhere near enough. It wasn’t what you wanted. Maybe if you’d had a bit more time it would have been more satisfying. But you hadn’t been sure how long they’d take to finish their meal or whether they’d come straight up to the rooms or hang out downstairs for a while, so you’d rushed. It was almost worth it, though, to see your mother so surprised to find you sitting up in bed reading. She’d almost jumped when she realised you were there, hand landing over her heart like you’d sprung out from behind a wall and yelled boo. Of course, she’d had to pretend otherwise in front of Erin, not wanting to explain where she thought you’d actually be. Thank god she was going to be occupied all day because you did not want to have the ‘I just think you should socialise with people your own age’ talk that was all poorly hidden code for ‘I’m hungry for gossip and your sex life is the best thing to potentially tell everyone about’. The reminder that your Mom and Erin would be busy made you curse Joe again. If he’d not been such an impatient dick about it, you probably would have had the entire day to yourselves, to spend however you wanted wearing as few clothes as you deemed necessary. Instead you’d be spending the day with your Dad. Playing golf.

Joe, wearing a red polo shirt that looked way too good on him, greeted you stiffly when you met up with him and your father at the entrance to the golf course, obviously displeased about how last night had gone. He barely looked at you as you hired out clubs and made your way to the first hole, though you thought you might have caught him peeking at your ass once or twice. It’d be a lie to say you’d not specifically chosen the shorts you wore because of how good they made you look, though you weren’t sure if it was because you wanted to make Joe suffer a little or to tempt him into touching you again. Maybe a bit of both. Either way, he remained aloof, mostly ignoring you, for the first couple of holes anyway. If your Dad noticed any tension between you and Joe, he didn’t let on, talking to you both about the game and constantly sharing tips he’d picked up over the years. By hole number three he’d had made a couple of bad hits, having to head into a sand trap to retrieve his ball. Which left you and Joe. Standing there. Waiting. He cracked first. “Didn’t expect you to show,” he sneered, one eye on your father. “And miss this? You’re in a charming mood by the way,” “I’m not in any mood, I’m just a little tired.” “Sure, if you say so. Just, tell me this one thing. Is that because you were up all night thinking about me?” There was a triumphant cry from your father as he finally managed to get his ball free of the sand. You clapped as he returned to where you and Joe were standing, taking a theatrical bow. “Sorry, I’m usually a bit better than that.” “Don’t worry Dad, me and Joe aren’t very good so it’s probably better for us if you’re having an off day.” Alright Joe, you’re up,” your Dad said with a laugh, “Just remember to grip your shaft softly and stroke it smooth and you’ll get it in the hole no problem.” “And maybe don’t feel the ball up under the dinner table,” you said soft enough so only Joe would hear as he walked past you to line up his shot. You weren’t sure if he was just generally terrible at golf, or because you’d got inside his head, but either way it took him three tries to hit the ball and when he did he sent it off in the wrong direction. “Oh, bad lucky Joey,” you teased as he scowled at you. “As if you could do better,” “Watch me.”

You did do better, thank god, though not by much. You hadn’t gotten to the hole, but you were at least in the right general area. It was enough to piss Joe off further, his competitiveness coming out with his frustration. At the next hole he managed to get the ball in first try, earning a hearty congratulations from your Dad and a half-hearted one from you. “It’s because he took my advice,” your Dad said proudly, “I told him to put his head down and spread his legs a bit and see Y/N, he did it and it worked, straight in the hole. Maybe you should give it a shot too.” “Yes, Y/N, why don’t you try spreading your legs a bit more,” Joe laughed. You resisted the urge to ask him for a hands-on demonstration as you took your own, much less successful shot. As soon as your Dad was far enough away, leading you on to the next hole, Joe turned back to you. “Careful Y/N, more shots that pathetic and I might just win.” “You got lucky.” “Only right one of us should.” “Aww, you still mad I left you high and dry last night? Your hand just not good enough?” “Don’t act like you had any better. Besides, you don’t know I didn’t go off and find someone else. You’re not the only girl who can dress slutty and play at being the damsel in distress. “Nice try but the jealousy card won’t work. Already admitted to thinking about me all night.” “I did not admit that.” “Not intentionally but I can see it in your eyes. I saw it the moment you said good morning to me.” “Fine, maybe you’re right. I was thinking about you alone in your room, touching yourself. Trying to decide if you’d be using your fingers or if you were extra naughty and brought a toy with you.” “And how’d that work out for you?” “A shit night sleep actually. And I couldn’t make up my mind, both were such nice images. But I did come to one conclusion,” “Yeah?” “Yeah. You were thinking about me while you did it.” You were left scrambling to form a coherent sentence as he laughed and walked ahead.

By the ninth hole things were overtly competitive. Your Dad’s game had picked up, putting him well in the lead but you and Joe barely noticed, much too desperate to outdo the other to worry about anything else. Days of frustration, sexual and otherwise, had boiled into a competitiveness neither of you realised you were capable of. The in between moments, while you were unable to focus your aggression onto your balls, were spent at each other’s throats. Whispered comments ranging from insulting your game to insulting his manhood. Condescending tones and lazy double entendres. When you were trying to determine which of your clubs would be best Joe leaned over and cockily offered you one of his. “You could try my 5-Wood. Bigger head means you might have a chance of getting close.” “Sorry, Joe. Your clubs don’t have long enough shafts for me, couldn’t possibly be satisfying.” When he took an inordinately long time to make a shot you told him he could bang it in the back or slip it in gently but either way to hurry up. He fumbled it completely. Then, after your next swing he made sure to complement you on your bounce while staring directly at your chest. At hole 14 things got a little more personal. You casually let slip that you were, in fact, using your fingers last night, and asked Joe if knowing that for sure would have helped him sleep better. “You’re a fucking cock tease, Y/N,” he growled, “I don’t think you ever intended to sleep with me, you just get off from leading people on. Well I’m fucking done with it; you can go choke.” “Oh, kinky. Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.” He huffed out a breath but otherwise didn’t respond.” “Don’t go quiet on me now, right when I’ve learnt about your little kink. You’d like to choke me, wouldn’t you? Did you think about it last night, while you were, y’know...?” you made a jerk off motion with your hand. “You’re right, I would like that, anything to shut you up for half a minute, but don’t pretend you’re not hot for it too. I can see you dripping from here.” “Well, you know me, I get off from being a tease apparently. You’re up. Try to hit the ball straight this time.”

The score at the end of the game was in your favour, but not by much. Your Dad just smiled at you as you cheered, amused by your celebrating but Joe was gritting his teeth. “Well that was fun,” your Dad said glancing at his watch, “do we want to play a few more rounds? It’s still fairly early,” “Actually, I really should head back,” Joe said, all smiles and polite words to your father, though perhaps a little more tart than he normally would have spoken, “I’ve got a thing booked for this afternoon so I probably should go shower and get changed. It’s been fun though; we should do this again.” “Not to worry Joe, thanks for indulging me today,” they shook hands and then Joe shouldered past you to return his clubs. “What about you Y/N? Up for some more?” “As fun as that sounds, I think I might head off too. I’ve been thinking about a mocktail and a bubble bath for the last three holes. Since the room’s free I might make hay while the sun shines.” "Cold drink doesn’t sound half bad now that you say that.” He walked with you back towards the main part of the resort, laughing and chatting about the game you’d just played, and commenting on how he’d missed having your sanity round the house. Joe was a little way ahead of you, but you determinedly kept your eyes anywhere but on the back of his head. On the off chance that he might turn around you didn’t want him to think you were staring at him. At the entrance to the lobby your Dad bid you farewell, heading off in the direction of the bar and leaving you to make your way upstairs.

Inside was quiet, most guests already out enjoying the sun and the sea. A handful of people milled around by the front desk with their suitcases, waiting to check into, or out of, their rooms and a few people wearing not much more than their bathers hurried past as you approached the elevator. The only other person waiting to head up to their room turned, eyes following a bikini clad woman, though he stopped once his vision met you. “There she is, The Tease. Heading off to make some other poor bastard miserable?” “You’re only miserable because you suck at golf. Fucking sore loser too, running off the second you found out I’d beat you.” “It was two points, it barely counts.” “Three points,” there was a ding and you followed Joe into the elevator, “And you of all people should know it’s not the size of the score that matters, only who you fuck over with it.” The words were barely out of your mouth before Joe was on you, pushing you up against the back wall and kissing you hungrily. If you’d been shocked by his sudden movement it didn’t last long, quickly giving way to the need to kiss him back. Your nails scraped at his shirt as you tried to press your bodies closer, helped by his hand sliding down to squeeze your ass as he pulled your hips into his. He leaned his other arm on the wall beside your head, anchoring you into place, not that you had any intention of trying to escape. He kissed you like he did at the market, needily and messily, though the intensity was a hundred times more, desire and frustration burning through you both. “Thought you said you were done with me,” you tried to sound disdainful as he pulled away, still firmly pinning you to the wall, but the words came out as more of a gasp than a sneer. “I said I was done with your teasing,” he managed to achieve the harsh tone you’d been going for as a second ding caught you by surprise and the elevator reached your floor, “C’mon,” he half growled, grabbing your hand to pull you down the corridor towards his room. You couldn’t help but giggle as he pushed you inside, still pissed off with him but more than a little giddy at the prospect of finally being able to do what you’d been wanting to do since you first saw him. He towered over you as he backed you further into the room, towards his bed, roughly tugging at your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the floor, before doing the same with his. You felt the back of your legs hit the bed and for a moment everything froze, both of you breathing hard. And then his hand was on your shoulder, pushing you down across the mattress, your legs dangling over the edge. He wasted no time in pulling your shoes and socks off as you unhooked your bra, tossing it aside. Your shorts came off next, followed quickly by your panties. “Already soaked for me,” his voice was rough and so were his fingers as he pushed your legs up and open wider, and delved into your heat, stoking the fire that had been building for days as he stretched you out. “Y-you say that like you haven’t been sporting a s-semi every time you’ve thought about me for the last-t four days. Oh fuck.” You whined as Joe wrenched his fingers free of you to dig through his bedside draw, ”No need to complain, gonna give you something better than my fingers in a second,” “Y’know your dick is in your pants, not the draws,” “Remember when a simple kiss could have you speechless? Fuck I miss that.” “What are you doing?” “Looking for a condom, swore I put them here.” “Are you clean? Cause I’m clean and on the pill and sick of waiting.” “You sure?” He asked already tugged his short and underwear off. “Yes, I’m sure. Just fuck m –,” you were cut off, breath catching in your throat as he thrust into you. “What was it you were saying about size? Seems I’m big enough to shut you up, finally.” And then he paused, swallowing thickly and squeezing his eyes shut as you both adjusted and revelled in the feeling.

The moment didn’t last long before he was taking you roughly, pushing gasps and whines from you with every snap of his hips. Neither of you were patient enough to slow down, desperate for a release from the energy that had pent-up with every flirtatious look and teasing word. “That - oh! - that the best you can do?” Joe didn’t bother to answer, just growled as he leaned over and moved one hand from your thigh to your throat. The tight squeeze of his fingers and the weight of his palm pressing into you made you clench down on his dick. He let out a low chuckle, “Knew you’d enjoy that. Been begging for it all morning.” You clutched at the sheets as he grabbed your ankle in his free hand and pulled your leg up, knee bent and foot resting over his shoulder. “Jesus,” he groaned as the change of position allowed him to sink deeper into you. All you could manage was a choked moan as he fucked you relentlessly, still squeezing your throat. He dropped his fingers to your clit, rubbing it in harsh circles that only made you moan more. “Please tell me you’re close,” he grunted. “Mmhm close, fuck Joe,” “Say that again,” “’m close,” “My name, say my name again,” You did one better, moaning his name as he released your throat completely. The rush of breath returning to you flooded your system making everything feel heightened, sending you careening into your orgasm. You chanted his name as you rode out your high and were still repeating it when he kissed you again, pulling out and following you over the edge, covering your stomach with his cum as your noses bumped together and you whined against his lips.

“Well,” you said, a little nervously, as he stood up and held out his hand to pull you up too. You felt a little unsteady as you stood, but Joe kept hold of your hand, his other reaching out to brush some of your hair behind your ear. “Yeah.” “Worth the wait?” “Absolutely.” He leaned in to kiss you softly, all traces of his previous mood gone. He was still standing close, foreheads almost touching when you softly said, “I gotta pee. And clean up,” waving a hand in front of your stomach. You both laughed as he let you go with a, “shit, yeah, of course,” and a lingering look. When you returned to the room he was waiting for you, bed covers draped over his lap as he leaned against the wall, a pillow shoved behind his back. His head was bent, attention focused on something in his hands though it was drawn back to you when you spoke. “So, that was something,” “Yeah, um, definitely something.” What’s that supposed to mean? You climbed into bed next to him, leaving a space between you as you made to lean against the wall like he was, blankets pulled a little higher to cover your chest. Instead he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side, shuffling closer so you could lean into him properly. “What you got there?” You pointed at the object that held his focus, a small package wrapped in brown paper. It crinkled as his fingers moved over it. “This,” he said, “was meant to be a goodbye present. I was going to give it to you on the last day we were both here as, umm, just like, a little, I don’t know, keepsake? It was going to come with a very funny note about how much fun I’d had fucking you into oblivion, or how your pussy was worth sneaking around behind your family’s backs or something like that. I haven’t written it yet, but it would have been fucking hilarious.” He paused, running his thumbs over the brown paper again, still looking at you, “Instead, I’d like to give it to you with an apology. For being such an ass.” “Joe, y-,” “I know you’re about to say I don’t have to, but I do. I was a dick. I knew you were specifically trying to keep your family uninvolved and I still did…. everything I did, and then I acted like a jerk to you today. So, I’m sorry.” He held out the package, but you didn’t take it straight away. “For the record, this is very sweet and you didn’t need to buy me anything…” “I know,” “… But I also wasn’t going to stop you from apologising. I’m really glad you did because last night sucked. But some of that was on me too. I was a bit of a dick too. But maybe not quite as much as you were,” Joe laughed and squeezed you tighter, “Will you just take the gift already so we can forget all that. It doesn’t matter.” You reached out for the package, sitting up a little straighter and unwrapping it slowly. The necklace and earrings he’d offered to buy you at the markets fell out onto your lap, a bright white and yellow plumeria on each item. “I went back and got them, that day at the market, after we separated. Do you like them?” “They’re lovely.” “I thought it’d be nice for you to have something physical you could keep, even after we leave.” “Thank you, I really love it,” you pulled him down into another kiss. “And again, they were going to be attached to a note about all the sex we, theoretically, had.” His face was serious as he spoke but there was a barely contained laugh in his voice that made you laugh too. “So, you’ve been imagining us having sex?” you swept the jewellery into your palm and leaned over to place it on the bedside table, “that demonstration just before, was that something you’d imagined?” “That was….not how I thought it’d go,” he said with a chuckle as he rubbed the back of his head, “not the first time anyway.” “How did you think it’d go?” “Less rough, for one. A bit clumsy and stuff but more…. intentional than it ended up being.” “So, not a spur of the moment thing after hours of winding each other up?” “Definitely not. I was going to be much more prepared. At least have a condom within easy reach. I found them by the way, I was looking in the wrong draw.” “You’re such a dork,” you giggled, shifting yourself to straddle his lap, looping your arms around his neck as his hands fell to your waist. “Think you’ve told me that before,” “Because it’s true. But I also imagined it’d go a bit differently.” “Different how?” “Like you said, less rough. I was also going to be on top, umm, because it’s been a while and I thought it’d be better if I was more in control.” “Y/N, shit,” Concern was written over his face but you cut him off before he could ask if you were okay. “No, it was good, Joe” you brought your hand to his cheek reassuringly, “really good. I’m happy with how it actually happened.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, smiling as he paused just before your lips touched. His breath was warm on your lips and you thought he probably would have said the same of yours, except that you’d stopped breathing. You closed the gap, a series of soft shallow kisses that gradually lingered longer, became deeper. Your chest felt tight and there were butterflies going wild in your gut. Perhaps it was the conversation you’d just had, vulnerable and candid, or just the dramatic shift from how you’d interacted earlier in the day. Whatever it was had you feeling more nervous than you had when he pushed you against the wall of the elevator or even when he tore off your clothes. He was more careful in the way he touched you, more deliberate, so you gathered he was feeling something akin to what you were. His fingertips rested softly against you, contrasted against the faint marks left from where he’d grabbed you so tightly before. Perhaps being so open had been a mistake. It wasn’t something you usually let happen after only knowing a guy for a few days. But, then again, it wasn’t like you had forever with Joe, just a few short weeks. He pulled you tighter against him, chests pressed together, and you tried to shut off your brain, stop overthinking and just focus on Joe and the moment at hand. It was slow this time. Before you’d been in a rush, desperate lust driving you to move fast and hard, spurring each other on. A feeling like if you didn’t hurry up and fuck you’d lose the chance. Even before that, when you’d kissed at the market, when you’d gotten so close in your bathroom, it was always rushed for fear of being caught out. But this time, there was none of that. That frantic need had mellowed. There was no clock to outrun, no chance of intrusion from well-meaning but unwanted relatives. You could take your time, soak each other in. And you did. Dragging your hands down over his shoulders until they rested against his chest, able to feel his heartbeat speed up under your palm. He brought his lips to your neck, pulling sighs and heavier breaths from you with each slight scrape of his stubble. Even when you finally rolled the condom down his shaft and lowered yourself onto him and he brought his hands up to cup your breasts and you moaned as you rode him, even then it was tender, almost delicate. A quiet sort of desire that drew you onwards until you were muffling your moans in his neck and quivering as you came undone

Afterwards you cleaned up and began to redress. Joe had slipped his underwear back on while you were in the bathroom, before collapsing back onto the bed. “What are you doing?” he said softly, watching as you picked up your shorts from where he’d thrown them into the floor. “You can’t expect me to walk back to my room half naked,” “I don’t go back to your room just yet.” “But my family…” “Are all busy,” he kneeled up and grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards the bed, “Your Mom and sister will still be occupied with the hula show and your Dad is probably having a nap or relaxing by the pool. We still have time.” “I don’t want them to see me leave here,” “They won’t. Just come back to bed for a little longer.” You worried at your lip for a few seconds, thinking it over. You’ve spent the last half a week wanting nothing more than to be in Joe’s bed, why are you in such a rush to leave? Finally, you nodded and dropped your shorts again, climbing back into bed in nothing but your shirt and panties. Joe wriggled closer, throwing his arm over you as you curled into him. “I’ll check if the coast is clear for you before you leave. And I’ll come up with some way to throw your mother off, okay?” “Thank you,” “Least I can do.” You shuffled around, getting comfortable, and lay your head against Joe’s shoulder. “Can I ask you something?” he said softly, “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” “Sure, what is it?” “Your Mom mentioned a breakup, last night. I assume that’s got something to do with why,” he waved his hands around the both of you, “this is happening.” “Yeah, kind of. I guess I just need something casual at the moment, no strings, no labels, just fun.” “I can do fun,” “Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear. What about you? There a particular reason you’ve had to come to Hawaii to get laid?” “You kid but that’s not actually that far from the truth. Started with a bad breakup more than a few months back. And I mean bad. Been in a bit of a dry spell ever since. One of my friends suggested I take a break after we were done with exams, just head off to somewhere new and use the time away to find myself or, whatever hippy bullshit he’s goes on about. But I figured, fuck it, why not go somewhere new.” “How’d you pick Hawaii?” “It was cheap and sunny. And there was a high chance of seeing some cute girls in bikinis.” “The three most important things to think about when booking a vacation.” “Well, seems to be working out well enough.” He let his hand slide down your side until it landed on your ass, squeezing it to make you laughed. “So what do you have in mind then? To throw Mom off I mean. Gonna make it a whole lot easier to sneak around if she’s not constantly watching us.” You talked quietly for a bit longer, plotting a potential plan, but, both worn out, it wasn’t long before your breathing evened out and you fell asleep with your head in the crook of Joe’s neck, his soft snores filing the otherwise silent room.

Waking up was hard, the nap not having lasted as long as you would have liked. Convincing yourself to get out of bed was harder still. You knew you had to so you could get ready to meet your family for dinner but the draw of staying cuddled up to Joe was very tempting. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed the feeling of being so physically close to someone since you’d dumped Eddie. Plus, staying meant you got to make out some more and, really, that sounded like a wonderful way to spend the night. With a sigh you pushed yourself up and finished getting dressed. Joe stirred as you were slipping your shoes back on. “Where’re you going?” “Shower. And then down to dinner,” “What time is it?” “It’s like, six o’clock, just about.” “Shit, really? Guess you should go then.” “I’ll come back later, after Erin’s asleep,” you grabbed the jewellery Joe had given you from the bedside table, already planning on wearing it to dinner. “Pretty sure the last time you said you’d be back, you ended up ditching me to go drinking with your parents,” “Well if I don’t show up, you’ll know where I am. See you later.” “Wait!” Joe sat up suddenly, throwing back the covers “I said I’d help you sneak back.” “Stay in bed, I’m sure no one will see.” “No no no, I’ll check. Don’t want you getting mad at me again.” “I wouldn’t,” “You’ve withheld sex once before, I’m not risking it again, he laughed, throwing a shirt and shorts on, “besides, couldn’t let you leave without…” his lips were on yours in a heartbeat as he pulled you close. “That’s so unfair, making me wanna stay,” “Guess you’ll just have to make sure you come back then. Now wait here for my signal.” You chuckled as he slipped out the door, his footsteps treading slowly down the hall until he was in sight of your room. A moment later there was a knock at the door. You peeked out to find Joe, hand held up beside his face like a gun. He put a finger to his ear like he was listening to a hearing device, “Coast is clear. Safe to move. Go! Go! Go!” You laughed as you followed him quickly back down the hall, his finger gun drawn the whole way, holding it out as you rounded a corner. When you reached your room he waited until you’d pulled out your key before announcing, “The eagle is in the nest.” With a final glance around to double check you were definitely alone, you called him a dork again, leaned up to kiss him once more and then ducked into your room, grinning.

Dinner went slower than you wanted, but no one suspected you were lying when you said you’d spent the afternoon on the beach. Erin, unhelpfully, announced that she and your Mom had also been on the beach, but it was large enough and busy enough that it was reasonable for you not to have seen each other. There was also a question raised about your jewellery, but you covered by saying you’d bought it the day you bought Erin hers but had forgotten about it until that afternoon. Other than that the meal passed incident free. Afterwards you all made your way out to the pool to relax and have a drink or two. The only interruption was a brief lecture from your mother. From her position on a lounge, she caught sight of Joe heading towards the bar. If he’d been closer she probably would have called out to him, instead she suggested you go and get her a refill. Before you could do more than sigh and swing your legs off your own lounge chair, she threw out an arm to stop you. Joe was leaning against the counter of the bar, chatting up another girl. Her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to read their lips despite how far away she sat. She couldn’t miss it however when the girl wrote her number on a napkin and handed it to Joe. “Would you look at that. You know, this is what happens when you play hard to get Y/N. There is a time to make a man work for your attention, but a vacation is not it. The girls back home will be so disappointed for you.” You lay back down and tuned her out as much as you could, trying not to smile at how well the plan you’d hatched had worked. After that it was just killing time until you could go upstairs with Erin and wait for her to talk herself into exhaustion. Patiently, you listened to her babble about the tiki statue she’d decorated, pointing out all her artistic choices but refusing to let you pick it up off her bedside table for a closer look. When she finally did fall asleep you watched the clock tick for another fifteen minutes, just to make sure she was really out. Then you changed into your bikini and a robe and left the room as quietly as possible.

Joe answered after the first knock. “Should start calling you beaver,” you said as you stepped inside, noting the confused look Joe gave you, “because you’re so eager.” “Oh, my mind went…somewhere else entirely.” “Perv!” you laughed, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder. “Is it pervy to ask what you’ve got on under the robe?” “A little but I’ll let it slide.” His eyes raked you up and down as you slowly pulled the belt of your robe loose, letting it fall open. “You wore it,” he grinned, meeting your eyes briefly before lowering his gaze back to your scantily clad body. “Had to compete with the pool bar girl somehow,” slowly, you let the robe slip off your shoulders, falling to the floor in a heap. You lay a hand against Joe’s chest, walking him further into the room, “If you want I can make this quick, so you’ll be ready to meet her later.” He gulped, shaking his head, “I don’t think making this quick is going to be a problem.” “You don’t even know what I’m going to do yet,” you kept your eyes locked on his as you ran your fingers along the waistband of his shorts, sinking to your knees as you tugged them down along with his underwear. “Jesus,” he whimpered, watching closely as you spat into your palm before wrapping your hand around his cock. “You weren’t lying were you? So hard already. Guess I better get started then.” Keeping your eyes up, you gently began to kitten lick around his tip, gradually trailing your tongue further down the underside of his shaft and then dragging it back up to focus on his tip again. When you decided he was suitably worked up, his breathing heavy and uneven, you took him between your lips. His hand fell to the top of your head but he didn’t try to force you to take more of his dick, instead just rested it there as you set the pace. You bobbed up and down on his cock, deliberately going slow so you could adjust. Every so often you’d return to lavishing his head with kisses and licks before sinking back down and hollowing your cheeks. When you felt your jaw getting tired you pulled back, slowly working your hand over him instead. “I’m not gonna last much longer,” “I figured, from the why you’ve been panting and moaning.” “Can’t blame me, you’re very good at this.” “Well, I try. If you want I can try deepthroating you until you cum.” “Fuck, you can do that?” “It’s been a while, might require a position change but yeah I should be able to. You up for it?” “Yes, god yes. Where do you want me?” “Might be easiest if I lie on the bed.” “Sure, whatever you think is best.” You giggled at how earnest and excited he sounded as you took his offered hand to stand up again. You took a second to stretch your muscles, knees stiff from the rough carpet, before climbing onto the bed. “This gives me a little less control than before so if I need to stop I’ll tap you okay?” “Yeah, of course. I’ll start slow. One question though,” “Shoot,” “Can I choke you again?” “You mean while you’re fucking my throat? Yeah that sounds hot. Ready?” Joe nodded as you got as comfortable as you could be with your head hanging over the edge of the bed. You were reminded suddenly that this was the exact spot he’d fucked you hard after you’d come back from golf, except you were turned the other way around. A shiver running through you at the thought. When you were ready you gave Joe a quick tap to let him know and then tried to focus on staying relaxed as he slipped back into your mouth. You could feel his hand resting against your throat again, not squeezing, just gently tracing his fingers and thumb up and down your neck as he slowly worked his cock deeper. The sensation of his fingers helped you stay calm and focused as you held onto his hips, controlling his movements as much as possible. As he gradually fucked you deeper, drawing extra gags from you, he brought both hands to your throat, thumbs almost overlapping towards the base of your neck, squeezing harder the longer and faster he fucked you. “Fuck, Y/N,” he panted, “can feel my dick moving in your throat. Under my hands. Holy shit that’s hot. Can see it too, when I move my hands away.” He did exactly that, releasing your throat so he could watch his cock move under your skin. It wasn’t long before his hands were back in place though, pressing down on the bulge. You hummed as you felt him tighten his hold a little more. “I’m, fuck, I’m g-gonna, gonna cum.” You squeezed his hip a little tighter to let him know it was okay. It was all the invitation he needed, holding himself deep in your throat and squeezing tight as he moaned through his release. When he finally released your throat and stepped back you rolled onto your stomach, coughing a little as you tried to get your breathing back to normal. “Are you okay?” he asked, rubbing your back as the coughs subsided. “Yeah, I’m great.” “You’re fucking incredible is what you are,” he tilted your chin up so he could kiss you softly, “But you’re going to have to stop wearing that bikini for the rest of your vacation because, after that, I’m not gonna be able to see you in it without cumming in my pants.” You chuckled as he sat down next to you, leaning your forehead on his shoulder. “Just give me a couple minutes to collect myself and I’ll return the favour,” “No rush, I’m a little worn out myself. You still got that vodka?” “Yeah, umm, think it’s in the wardrobe.” You patted his leg as you stood, head still a little dizzy from having hung upside down, and made your way to where he’d indicated, finding the bottle almost as soon as you opened the door. “Balcony?” He nodded as he pulled his pants back on, following you out. This time you both opted for the chairs, rather than sliding to the floor, but you pulled them so they were next to each other, facing out across the ocean. You unscrewed the lid and took a swig of the vodka, before handing the bottle over. For a minute you sat in silence, listening to the waves against the shore, passing the bottle between you. Until Joe’s voice cut through the quiet. “So, what’s on the cards for tomorrow? Your Mom booked another activity that you’ll be stuck doing?” “Nah, don’t think so. Well, I think I’ve been uninvited from whatever she had planned. She’s pretty disappointed about you chatting up other girls and me not being visibly upset by it. Don’t think she can stand to look at me right now.” you laughed. “Does that mean you’ll be free all day then?” “Yeah. I’ll have to double check in the morning in case she’s calmed down, but I should be.” “Cool.” “Any requests for what I should wear?” “ Hmmm,” he leaned in, making a face like he was thinking hard, “don’t really mind as long as it’s easy to remove.” You thought he was going to kiss you again but instead he grabbed the bottle from your hand while you were focused on his lips, leaning back as soon as he hand it in his grasp and taking a sip. “Fuck you, I was drinking that,” “Think you were a little too distracted to drink. Besides I’m cutting you off again.” “Bullshit, I’ve barely had any,” “No, but I want you on the bed.” You giggled as he grabbed your hand and practically pulled you out of your chair, leading you back inside. The vodka was almost dropped in his eagerness to get you out of your clothes again, but you caught it in time, leaving it safely standing on the bedside table as he pulled at the ties of your bikini top. As soon as it hit the floor Joe grabbed your hips and turned you towards the bed, giving your ass a small spank as you hurried to lie down. “We should talk about what we’re into,” he said nonchalantly as he followed you into the middle of the bed, kneeling between your parted legs. “What, like bands and books and shit?” “No dummy, kinks and stuff. Since we’re working on a strict time limit, we should probably discuss it, make sure we’re both having fun.” “Okay, now?” “Later, when I’m not eating you out.” You laugh stuttered into a whine as he dropped his head to press a kiss to your bikini bottoms, right over your clit.

He made you cum twice with his mouth and then once again on his cock, fucking you into the mattress while your nails left marks along his back. After, while your legs stopped shaking and your heartbeat slowed back to normal, you and Joe talked some more. He lay on his stomach, head propped up in his hands, looking up at you as he explained that you absolutely could start calling him Beaver, since he felt he’d earned the nickname now. Your fit of laughter hitched as you noticed the clock on his wall. “Shit, is that really the time? I should go,” “Already? You’re ruining my plans Y/N,” “What plans? I don’t believe you’ve ever made a plan in your life,” “Excuse you! I’ll tell you, I had big plans. Plans that involved cuddling you while we drank some more.” “As fun as that sounds,” you chuckled, “if I stay, I’ll fall asleep here. And if I fall asleep here it means I won’t be in my bed in the morning. And if I’m not in my bed in the morning I’ll be in for another lecture about looking after my sister and a whole bunch of questions I don’t want to answer.” “That’s fair, I guess.” “Besides, I’ll be back here tomorrow…or today I guess.” “Okay,” he exhaled the word against your stomach as he left a kiss there, “But I’m going to have to fuck you, hard, to make up for it.” “Oh, of course. Wouldn’t expect anything less. Though maybe something more, a spanking or something.” “You’d be into that?” “Mmhmm,” “We really need to talk about what else we’d be into.” “Tomorrow, when I come back, we can make a list and then check them all off.”

True to his word, when you returned to his room the next morning he greeted you with coffee he’d ordered from room service, and a discussion about which kinks turned you on and where each of your limits lay. But once you had it all sorted out it took almost no time at all for him to have you face down ass up on the bed, pounding you through two solid orgasms as he slapped your ass. And then, after a little recovery, he had you again, a leg wrapped around his waist and your hands pinned to the wall above your head. It seemed that, now you’d actually been together, it was all you wanted to do. In the moments when he wasn’t touching you, you could almost have said you missed it. Missed the warmth of his hands, the taste of his mouth on yours, the way he could make you feel with just his fingers let alone any other part of him. He strongly hinted he wanted to have you again, perched on the bathroom sink like he would have the night he came to your room had you not been interrupted, except that you had to leave. As part of your mother’s punishment for letting Joe get away you were once again on babysitting duty. The whole afternoon was to be spent keeping your eye on Erin while your parents joined a couples only hike. “Honestly, I’m starting to think this was about more than being starved for gossip. Wouldn’t be surprised if she’d convinced herself that we’d miraculously discover we were going to the same college and end up dating for real. That sort of romance novel bullshit. Probably had the wedding planned already.” “Hey, we knew we’d have to steal moments between activities and stuff. At least we can do the whole running-into-each-other-by-accident routine while your parents are away. I’ll help you watch Erin.” “That’s lovely of you, but you don’t have to.” “Y/N what else am I gonna do? Plus I like Erin. She’s a sweet kid, for the most part.” “You will have to keep your hands to yourself though. She spots anything and she’ll go blabbing straight away.” “I think I can restrain myself for a few hours,” “Really? Not been doing so great at the whole restraint thing the last couple of days.” “Fair point. Maybe you should give me an incentive to behave,” “Well if you don’t I might just have to tie you to the bed and edge you for a while,” “I said give me an incentive, not tempt me into misbehaving. You keep making suggestions like that and I’ll finger you by the pool just to make sure you follow through.”

That afternoon was a strong indication of how the rest of the vacation was going to go. You sat on the edge of the pool, watching Erin as she tried to prove she could do a handstand in the water. After you’d been there for about fifteen minutes Joe wandered over, both of you making polite small talk - nice to see you, what have you been up to since golf. Erin didn’t suspect anything, just yelled at Joe to watch her do a handstand before diving back underwater. Joe sat beside you, fingers almost but not quite touching as your feet bumped together below the surface. You chatted as vague acquaintances pushed together by repeat accidental meetings, though if anyone had bothered to listen in they would have heard Joes lewd comments about how your bikini turned him on and your downright obscene response asking if he preferred you in the bikini or naked and spread out on his bed. It was playful and flirty and led to another night of making near pornographic noises as checked off a few more of the kinks you both liked. And that was the routine you found yourselves falling into. You’d spend time with your family during the day, flirt with Joe whenever the opportunity arose, and then spend a good few hours of the night fucking each other’s brains out. On the floor and the bed and with your hands holding tight to the balcony railing. Occasionally, when you had adequate warning, Joe would end up on the same activity your family was doing, making polite small talk with your father as your mother tried to subtly convince him to make a move on you. You found it incredibly nerve wracking but, more than once you took the chance to fool around a little when you became separated from the group. Teasing touches as you both leaned against the same fence to admire a view, stolen kisses behind the bus, and once a quick handjob while you were meant to be snorkelling with everyone else.

On days when your family didn’t do much more than lounge around on the beach you’d make an excuse and disappear for a few hours, and then return hoping you didn’t look to fucked out for them to notice. You used every excuse you could think of – a spa session you’d booked the night before, interest in seeing a hula show or joining a yoga class, or just a desire to get out of the sun for a bit. You even disregarded everything Joe had told you about faking sick being a bad idea, pretending you had period cramps and a headache to get you another whole day to yourself. Joe came to your room that time, letting you pull him into the shower laughing. You’d had to slam your hand over his mouth as the room door opened and Erin yelled something about forgetting to grab the sunscreen before she hurried out again. It was a close call but also a huge turn on. You’d been right when you told Joe sneaking around would make things more fun.

Sometimes you’d catch sight of him and leave your family on the beach or by the pool under the guise of getting a new drink and instead end up with your tongue in Joe’s mouth, practically dry humping around the corner from where they sunbathed and joked around. When they asked what took you so long, you’d tell them it was so busy you’d lost their spot in the crowd. Joe never seemed to mind the sly nature of your meetings or the need to be quick and quiet. He’d spot you and wait for a moment when he could come up behind you and and whisper something about how it was a struggle to keep his hands to himself when you looked so good. Then he’d tell you to meet him in the lobby bathroom or whatever other secluded spot was nearby. When you arrived, he’d waste no time in pushing you to your knees or bending you over with your hands against a wall while he pulled your panties to the side. Whatever was easiest and fastest. The first time you’d been a little surprised, whining as he pushed you against a wall and kissed you hard. “Jesus Joe, I’m coming back to yours in like four hours, you couldn’t wait?” “Those shorts you’re wearing are so fucking hot, can’t blame me for wanting your cunt so bad.” He only got more intent on pulling you into dark corners and private areas when he saw you wearing the jewellery he bought you. You took to wearing the necklace and earrings constantly because every time Joe saw you in them it seemed to turn him on, something about it proving you were his to use, and it’d inspire another mindblowing round of sex, only made more satisfying by the days of stolen moments being as good as edging to work you both up.

It was everything you’d wanted when the idea of a holiday romance first occurred to you. Days spent relaxing, taking in the sun and the sea air and exploring a stunningly beautiful part of the world. Nights spent indulging in casual sex that wasn’t just a laugh but also made you feel incredible, with someone you enjoyed talking to and spending time with. Just what you needed to truly put your breakup and everything about that relationship behind you. It wasn’t ideal, what with having to dodge your family constantly but keeping it secret meant it was just yours and there was something very satisfying about that. All your previous relationships, no matter how brief, had been shared with others. Your mother telling everyone about your first kiss, your friends making you spill details about one-night stands and more long-term partners. But everything that happened between you and Joe was just for the two of you. The distance stopped your friends from getting involved and you were doing everything in your power to keep it away from your family. And that felt really good. Of course, as soon as you got back to college that would change. Enough time would have passed that you wouldn’t have any problems answering your friends demands to know if you’d seduced anyone, Justin Timberlake or otherwise. You’d spill the beans about everything, of course. After all, they deserved to know how right they’d been.

#my writing #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #holy shit ya'll #sorry i made you wait so long #but i think its worth it #i hope so anyway #oh my god

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anthonyed · 4 years

Text

Day 4 + 5: On A Date + Kissing

-//-

There was a time when Tony remembered things. Things like the time of the day, the date and the last time he’d eaten and showered. Right now though, his mind is a swamp of all things but miscellaneous.

The smell of burnt metal had sunk into his pore and become one with him. Which means, “Urgh.”

A light chuckle issues from somewhere within the four walls he’d trapped himself in and Tony straightens up, suddenly alert. His eyes scan around the wide area, for a while seeing nothing but wires and furniture and projects and projects and -.

“Steve!” He exclaims in delight, face helplessly splitting into a too wide grin. His skin tingles upon spotting the small bundle of perfection curled up in his favourite piece of furniture of all time; like a little cocoon of heaven carved especially for Tony because that is all he needs after his head finally stopped spinning with problems.

A soft purr satisfaction rumble in his chest as he rolls himself all the way across the work station to where his heaven’s situated, “Hey, Tony,” Steve greets when the chair comes to an end at the foot of the couch. He looks soft and warm, all wrapped up in Tony’s cosiest blanket which he keeps draped over the couch and he’s curled up with his sketchbook, pages open to a work in progress.

Tony stretches and pops his stiff joints with little happy sighs while Steve observes with a fond smile. “Finally came to Earth?” He asks once Tony’s done and Tony pokes his tongue at him impishly. His stomach rumbles then, betraying his mundanity and while Tony glares at it in disdain, Steve chuckles and holds up a plate of saran wrapped sandwich in his sight. “Eat,” he says while Dum-E rolls up, helpfully presenting a bottle of water.

Tony says his thank you to both of them and starts digging in. Halfway through his meal, he realizes that Steve’s staring and guiltily offers a bite to which Steve shakes his head, no, then keeps on staring until Tony’s nape prickles and he puts down the empty plate, starting on Steve with a full mouth, “Whu?”

Steve colours high on his cheeks and the tip of his ears, shaking his head as he ducks and laughs nervously. Tony takes him in and wishes he’s bestowed with the liberty to lean in and kiss Steve on the nose.

On the mouth, along his neck, down his chest, and – well, you get the gist.

Harrumphing, he gives a slight kick to Steve’s curled up legs and makes a face. “What?” He asks again after swallowing. When Steve looks up, he’s properly blushing, neck flushed red and he scratches the back of his head and says, “Nothing,” and then, “I should go.”

“Why?” Tony asks with a poorly suppressed whine. He’d just pulled out the zone and now Steve’s leaving? Already?

“Well…,” Steve trails off before pulling a breath and looking Tony straight in the eyes as if he’s trying hard not to burst a vein. “If I don’t go now, then I won’t make it for our date tonight,” He says softly. Too soft that Tony gulps the shock and replies with a dumb “Whu?”

Steve blinks, blue eyes searching and he looks like he’s panicking. Tony feels like he’s going to faint himself; two second away from smashing his face on the coffee table. His heart is racing, pulses jumping and he’s feeling uncomfortable hot. Throat dry and all.

“Our date.” Steve says faintly.

Tony swallows painfully, “Oh.” The fuck? “Right, of course.” What the actual fuck? “Our date. Which is at…,” He drags, hoping Steve will fill in but Steve doesn’t so he ends with, “Tonight. Clearly.” He huffs a nervous laughter. Play cool, play cool – Jesus.

“Chop, chop.” Tony chases him when Steve starts squinting suspiciously at him. “Hurry up and dress pretty. I like my date looking pretty.” He babbles, pushing Steve to the exit as his ears ring in panic. Steve blinks like a deer in the headlight; wide and adorable but wide – panic, wide. Tony winces. “Or just come like this, your wish. I like you anyway. That’s why we’re going on a date!” He finishes ceremoniously, hands thrown wide apart like ‘tada’ and he waves at Steve opening and closing his mouth like a gold fish on the other side of the glass door.

Dammit.

“Jarvis, pull up the shop’s footage from when Steve entered.” He orders between clenched teeth, grinning and waving as Steve boards the elevator and once their door closes, Tony’s grabbing for his hair and yanking. “Did I ask Steve out?”

“Yes, sir. At precisely five past four this evening.” JARVIS replies with a subtle peppiness to his tone which Tony squints at but ignores for the footage of himself sitting ram rod straight in the middle of the workshop surrounded by a sea of holo-screen and there’s Steve walking up to him with a plate of sandwich.

“Volume up, please,” Tony murmurs distractedly, zooming in to the two men on the screen. He watches unblinkingly and listens carefully to every word spoken; the usual reprimands for keeping long hours from Steve and Tony’s witty replies even in his zone-out stage – which is frankly, impressive, he knows, he’s been told before too.

Then the bickering leads to mild flirting until it isn’t mild anymore because Tony says something about; “Yeah sure, like you’d date me,” to Steve who not only looks offended but recovers quickly to retort a haughty, “Why wouldn’t I?”

To which then Tony says, “Seven o’clock today works for you, Cap?”

“Only if it’s Italian,” Steve smirks and Tony – Jesus Christ – leans so close into Steve’s space that on screen it looks very much like they’re kissing - which is no way, because Tony would remember such if something like that happened right? Like, come on! His life’s dream is to be with Steve and if he fucking forgets something so crucial like kissing Steve, he’s about to set himself on fire and send his arse straight to hell – and says something too soft to be registered by the system. And Steve appears to ask him something, again, too soft and Tony yanks hard at his hair in the present.

For a long time, he’s frozen. The footage plays until it stops and Tony’s looking at himself looking at the footage on the screen. It’s JARVIS who interrupts his state, clearing throat like a through gentle-AI, “Sir, may I take the liberty to remind you that you have date with Captain Rogers in exactly thirty minutes from now.”

“Oh fuck.” Tony expresses faintly, feeling extremely light headed as disbelief clouds every single section in his brain. But, in for a penny and all that right?

Right.

“I have a date.” He stands up. “With Steve.”

“Indeed, sir.”

Then louder and clearer, he repeats, shaking off the disbelief. “I have a date with Steve Rogers.”

“In 29 minutes -,”

“JARVIS!”

“Glad to be of service sir.”

A quick shower and a brief meltdown in the closet after, Tony’s about as ready as he can be to a date he doesn’t remember asking but has every bit dreamed of. To make things worse, Steve looks utterly delectable.

“Hey,” He says, as if he’s not melting Tony on his feet looking like he does in a form fitting navy dress shirt. He got a blazer on his arm and a nervous look in his baby blue eyes, “Not sure if I need a jacket or not.”

Tony wants to whip him back upstairs, straight to his bedroom and strip him naked. You don’t need anything, “You’re perfect.”

Steve blushes and Tony inhales sharply, making sure that he’s still grounded and not up in the air, floating.

Tony takes Steve to that one place he’d never taken anyone to before; the one place that exists in his memories only because it’s where Maria used to take him to when Tony does well in his exams.

It’s stuffy, there is way too many tables in a too small space but never is it ever crowded. The walls are decorated with tasteless vintage photos and art pieces. The entire place is run by a pair of too old Italian couple; the husband runs the kitchen whilst the wife takes care of the customers and neither of them speaks English. Tony absolutely adores it.

Steve’s taken aback the moment he enters the place, but Tony reminds himself that if anyone can see the beauty of this place and appreciate it as much as he does, it’s Steve.

It’s why he decided to bring him here. It was as clear as the day the minute he asked himself; fuck, where do I take him – and Tony had just known.

And he was right. Two minutes after, Steve is glowing with the light of discovery, gushing, “I love this place,” and Tony hasn’t even showed him the best part yet. He waits until he’d placed their orders, tongue rolling smoothly in fluent Italian as he kisses Elena and asks for permission while Steve observes with an unfamiliar intensity in his eyes.

Manuel usually takes some time to whip up the orders. Although Tony had asked Elena a favour and reserved the entire place for only them, it still isn’t going to make Manuel any quicker on his old bones and creaky joints. So he stands up and offers a hand, palm side up, to Steve who takes it with an interest and follows as Tony wordlessly leads him behind the counter and up an immediate staircase hidden in the corner.

It’s a spiral iron staircase that is too narrow for even a perfectly standard sized male body like Tony’s. But Elena is petite and Tony knows for a fact that she still uses it because she had just said so. Confidently, albeit a little anxious because he can’t help it – he’s on a date with Steve! – Tony pushes open the old wooden door and steps out into the rooftop of the three storey building.

The evening breeze is pleasantly cool for a summer evening and Steve’s hand in his is deliciously warm in contrast. Tony closes his eyes for a brief second and relishes it before he turns to regard Steve.

Steve’s looking at him and only him; singularly focused, uncaring of the bright orange night sun that’s too stubborn to slip past the horizon or the cooing birds in the distant. Uncaring that even by Tony’s standard, this is the most beautiful roof top scenery he’d ever seen in his entire life – with potted plants and their blossoming flowers surrounding them - and right then, Tony feels incredibly privileged to feel the heat of Steve’s gaze on his face.

He wonders what Steve sees though, as he squeezes his hand in his. His own eyes dart all over Steve’s handsome face, searching, and he decides he’ll just ask him. But the moment he parts his lips, words ready on the tip of his tongue, Steve decides to speak.

“You’re stunning.” He says, stepping closer. Tony holds his place and lets Steve curl a hand around his neck, thumb pressing gently over his pulse point, caressing. “I could paint you like this” he murmurs, letting go of Tony’s hand to trace a curve over Tony’s ear and back before he fits the heel of his palm under Tony’s jaw, gently nudging Tony’s chin up and when he steps in impossibly close; both of their breaths intermingling; hot and heady, their foreheads touch.

“Tell me I can kiss you?” Steve’s breath brushes over Tony’s lips, his mouth barely an inch away from slotting perfectly with Tony’s and it aches to wait, hurts to even breathe out a ‘yes’ but Tony manages. Daze as he fascinates himself with the curl of Steve’s fair lashes and the ridiculously gorgeous golden way they glow under the sun.

He can point the precise second – down to millisecond - when Steve’s lips meet his. He knows he’ll remember it by the way his heart stutters and jump circuits, and the exact pressure, in mmhg, with which Steve’s fingers press into his skin and pulls him closer. The exact temperature and the direction of the wind; Tony knows.

He knows, but all those details blur out in the back of his head like a swirl of paint dropped into a jar of water. They’re present, but insignificant to the greater details of how Steve feels against him, his body temperature, the hitch in his breath, the way he kisses – him, him and all him. Nothing else.

Tony drowns, willingly helpless, into Steve and Steve, he drinks him in.

The sun is red when they finally resurface and realise that there are things more interesting around them and only each other. But still, Tony thinks Steve’s the most of them; the most interesting, the most brilliant, and all.

It’s that giddy love-stupid brain of him, fuelled by all those happy hormones yada, yada - he knows. But he doesn’t care as he intertwines Steve fingers with his and giggles. He’s been in enough relationships to know that this high will fade in time, but right this second, he’s happy and is unapologetic about it, because it’s Steve and Steve likes him enough to go on a date with. To kiss him, and well, Tony’s over the moon.

He hasn’t even shown Steve Maria’s favourite blossom before Elena’s curious head pops out. Reluctantly, he leads Steve back downstairs for their dinner, marvelling how for the first time in forever, Manuel’s faster than him. He tells Steve that; about Manuel and Elena and about those potted plants and one of them which Maria loves the most. He tells him about Maria and Steve takes his hand, asks Tony if they can come back again.

“Next year, same place, same time.” Tony jokes, but not really. Eyes anxiously searching for Steve’s and relief floods in when Steve smiles in that mischievous way he does when he’s up for the challenge and is bloody sure he is going to win it.

Love-high fades, Tony knows. But the love itself, that he feels for Steve? That is staying because it’s stayed for years now and it hasn’t gone anywhere. He knows Steve like the back of his hand, knows him and loves him with all of his heart, so with utmost confidence, he says; “It’s a date.”

#long post #stevetony #stony #steve x tony #steve rogers x tony stark #30 days otp challenge #inkiniris writes

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g00d1uckch4rm · 4 years

Text

Primal

Chapter 14: Expecting More Than Sabotage

Summary/Info Rated M CHAPTER WARNINGS: Sado is a huge fucking creep and is the cause for most of the following; Torture. Threats of Physical and Psychological harm. Animal Sacrifice. Blood and Gore (mild). Non-Sexual Non-Consensual elements, Bonding and Blood drinking. [This is the darkest point of the whole story]

Previously...

Link experiences first hand what the true affects of what this strange Malice can do. Strung around like a puppet, he injured many of his knights and tried to kill Sidon.

It takes three days before Link awakes, drowning in guilt and anger as he remembers everything. Sidon is there for him.

A simple council meeting attempting to go over the incident proves to be more as Link is shown what his unknown enemy is capable of, that Link's actions have not gone unnoticed. Link realizes that he must pick his next actions very carefully and that he may be running out of time. He Informs Sidon of the situation going on at the camp and ties to the members of the castle.

After the ordered 'month of recovery', Link sets out and in the process of making sure no one follows him, he follows platoon forty-eight. But the unexpected happens when Link's fever is triggered early by Ingo.

-Only obvious key points will be summarized. There are likely moments of an Unreliable Narrator or Sneaky Foreshadowing.- ____________________________________________________

“Misko? Am I saying that right?” Ingo asked as he awkwardly tried to eat around his mask. A simple, yet hearty stew Link had made them after the long and heavy conversation. One Link had taken a huge risk with. He told them everything, how Link found out about his body, these hidden and rare types of people. The months of work it took to make two forms of prototype suppressants. Of the truth behind the camp and that one of the council members was behind it all, along with an unknown number of knights. That the night at the barracks; when Link lost control of himself, was a warning, a display of what they could do. Which also led into explaining the mass fear of those like himself and Ingo that has been going on for hundreds; if not thousands, of years. Of what he remembered, what the small village had done to Judo, to someone just like Link.

Yet right of this moment; with good food and the topic now on Link's family, the mood began to lift and become usual chatter, no longer tense or uncomfortable. Currently, they spoke about his feisty, crybaby, little sister, Misko.

“I feel like I've heard that name somewhere before.” Mused Ingo.

Shad was quick to pipe up as it dawned on him, snapping his fingers. “The stories of the Great Bandit Misko! That's probably why it sounds so familiar.”

“But all tales of 'im, are about a man. Not some wee girl.” Madas added, having heard the stories as well, famous and popular among young and adventurous souls.

“You never know,” Senza said between sips of her drink. “given the time of the crimes, it could have been a woman disguised as a man. Makes hiding from any pursuers easier if they don't know the truth.”

Link smiled behind his mask, his little sister a tale of legend? A master thief was not something he could picture her becoming, but she might have turned out different with the Calamity looming over Hyrule for a century. [I'd like to hear more about this bandit, whether or not they are possibly my sister. It will make the ride go much faster.]

“Right... we're goin' to see these other allies to help Ingo with his little problem.” Madas glanced to his youngest teammate.

Whom curled in on himself while glaring daggers at his team leader. Guilt still weighed heavy on his conscious, even if Link had reassured him many times that it wasn't his fault. “Come on, Madas, lay off. How do you think I feel about it?”

“Could be worse, ya could be in the Cap's shoes.” He retorted, but then quickly realized that could have been taken as an insult and turned Link’s way. “No offence, Cap, this doesn't change a thing for us. But you bein' able to... ya, know... It's got to be hella weird bein' a man an' all.”

Link quickly shrugged it off as he finished his meal. Become pregnant? It was complicated, but this was getting too personal and Link didn't wish to share anything he didn't feel was necessary. Then he opened his vial case to grab the only two remaining suppressants and held one out to Ingo.

“Ugh... Is this going to taste as bad as the last one?” Taking the offered orange liquid, it sucked, but he wasn't going to refuse.

Link shook his head and shot back the elixir. [This one is a little sweet and it sort of burns going down. It will suppress the fever for about six to eight hours, longer if we're lucky, but it takes time to kick in. While the purple is instant relief, it will begin to wear off soon. Granted it lasts longer than before, which use to be twenty minutes. Both recipes are still lacking.]

As Ingo drank the thick, sandstone liquid, Shad couldn’t help but express his concern. “Will it last long enough until we arrive, until you can get more medicine?”

[Let's hope, I know that even if mine wears off, I still have periods where I can think straight. But I don't know how he will fair.]

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

The snowfall had been heavy well after sunset and Link had forbidden any torches in the darkness. The only light among them came dimly from the Sheikah slate as Link followed their position on the map. None of the Hylians could see each other, but they still talked quietly among themselves. The horses saw better at night than they did anyway and Link's horse was very familiar with night rides. It was the best way to avoid being followed, especially since the allies were civilians.

When they arrived at the small home hidden in the mountain's forest, Link was the first to dismount. The light coming from the porch lantern and the windows gave enough visibility for Link to speak. [You can dismount, but wait here and let me do the talking.] All the knights then acknowledged with a nod.

After giving the door a soft knock, he was surprised at who came to greet him. Link hadn't seen her in two months, but she was looking much better. Her curly, brown hair had gotten a proper cut and she had put on some healthy weight. The young Hylian woman's eyes lit up and she jumped the unprepared man, a hug that sent them both into the snow.

[Sorry.] She signed; again, surprising Link as she sat up atop his legs. But when she saw the four knights standing at the light's edge, she screamed and scurried back inside, leaving the door wide open. Link could hear R asking her what happened and something about weapons.

As Link stood, dusting the snow off and readying himself for the confrontation that was expected of him bringing company. An all too familiar voice called out to him. “You've got three seconds, voe.” The Gerudo woman was glaring at him with an axe in one hand and a bundle of logs in the other.

[Allies and we weren't followed.] He explained just as the other two women popped out of the doorway, armed with a bow and sword.

At least R was happy to see him, her serious expression fading into a relieved smile and she lowered her blade slightly. “Oh, Sir Link, I didn’t know you were here.” Nervously she glanced to her wife and then to the four knights. “Are... they friends of yours?”

Link nodded, but M was not satisfied. “Quite the horrible habit you've got. You bring nothing but trouble to my home and now the Hylian Guard!”

The little Sheikah woman gave M an unamused look at first. Though after putting the blade back in its sheath, she wore a more understanding expression. “Dearest, Sir Link has proven himself to be trustworthy and only wants to help those in need. A little trouble here and there is something we can handle. I know it's hard for you, so at the very least trust in me.”

M glared at each of the knights before setting her eyes on Link for a long moment, then she huffed and reluctantly set the axe against the house.

“Now,” R turned her attention back to the group. “why don't you all come in out of the cold and I'll put on some tea. We'll do introductions then.”

[Thank you and I’m sorry for the suddenness of this all. Things happened and I ran out of elixirs-] Link didn’t get to finish as the Hylian woman rushed back inside once more.

“Don’t mind her, now get in here before I turn you all into frogs.” R teased with a cheerful smile as she too, returned inside.

Link was the first one through the door. Followed by M, she only paused long enough to slip out of her boots and to announce to the group adding up in the entrance. “Leave your gear and weapons here. Don’t make a mess.”

It took a bit of time for the four to disarm and shed their gambesons, as it was too hot for it inside. While Link had already taken off the upper layers of the heavy Snowquill tunic and left it with his boots, he was now joining the others in the kitchen.

M was adding more cups to the table, when she snapped her head up, frozen as she looked to Link with a mix of anger and concern. But Link pretended not to notice and ignored whatever sort of taunt she was trying.

The very nervous and worried Hylian suddenly came running up to Link with two vials of suppressants. Honestly, he hadn’t expected her to grab these. [Are you fluent in hands?] He asked slowly.

[A little.] She said, her expression falling as she bit her lip. She looked ashamed. [Learning.]

[Deaf?] He guessed and she shook her head before pointing to the bandage around her neck. Link then nodded in understanding, he remembers the wounds she had suffered and how the Malice affected him. He had only suffered for a few minutes at best, but her… it could have been hours, days, weeks. Her voice must not have been able to recover. [What’s your name? You can call me Link.]

[K A T T A N] She spelled out slowly and carefully as she started to smile a little in return. [Thank you, Link. For helping me.]

[You’re welcome and thank you for these.] Link said as he took the offered vials and drank one. Just to be safe, and handed the other to Ingo as he entered the kitchen. Kattan actually hissed at him before hiding behind Link.

“I get it, don't worry, I’ll be sure to give you lots of space. Both you and the Captain.” Ingo ducked away as he double checked that his mask was still secure. It wasn’t until he sat down at the far end of the table did he finally drink the suppressant.

M scowled down at Ingo as she sat on the table in front of him. “What are you drinking that shit for?”

“Um, so I don’t lose control again? Capt--... Link said that I’m like you so-”

The Gerudo woman then whipped her head around to Link. “You. Down the hall. Right now.”

R groaned, becoming agitated. “Dearest, please. No fighting, our bean is sleeping.” She reminded her as she finished setting the extra chairs around the table.

M stood up and brushed past the other platoon members. “I ain’t going to fight, but we need to talk alone before I start anything else.”

Link held back a sigh and followed after her down the hallway. They ended up at the back door before the Gerudo woman turned to face him.

In a swift motion, she quickly tore off his mask and tossed it aside. Link didn’t even get a moment to demand what her problem was before M grabbed his shirt, lifting him off his feet. Twice in one day, Link has someone scenting his neck.

Her scent overwhelmed any remaining trace of mint and for a second, he feared that he would be triggered into a fever once more. Forgetting that he had just taken another round of suppressants and that M was bonded. Yet, M's scent was strangely... comforting, soothing, but there was something about it that didn't sit right with him. This felt far different than before.

Frantic, Link shoves her away, but stumbles into the wall when he’s dropped. Link braces himself against the wood surface and low enough that she would have to lean to grasp hold of him again, but not enough that he would be at any sort of huge disadvantage. His nerves firing off and muscles tight, readying for a fight or to run.

M's gaze was tense, but not malicious. “I thought I had been mistaken. With you being as cautious as you are and your progress on a suppressant medicine. But there's no mistake.”

Link hesitated a long moment before he brought his hands up to speak. [I don’t know what you are talking about.]

“No need to deny it, this isn't something you can lie to someone like me about.” She looked away from him, back down the hall. And then to their feet, before she could meet his eye once more. Link had never seen her hesitate like this before, M preferred to snap first and sort things out after. Her familiar bitter expression almost seemed remorseful. “It’s that boy’s, isn’t it?”

Ingo? Was she talking about the accident? Could M have found his scent on Link, was that something a person like her was capable of? [He may have lost to the fever, but he didn’t do anything.] That was simple to clear up.

“Someone else suffered a fever with you?”

That was a weird way of putting it. Link shook his head, this was the first time something like this had happened. Ingo was the only one that triggered a premature fever in Link.

“Oh?” M honestly looked surprised. “I see, that's... that's relieving to hear.” She relaxed a bit, but appeared to be worrying over something. “So... that boy. Is he here just to confide in someone else just like him or... are you here for my wife's help?”

Tired of M's odd phrasing and the unsettling vibe building in this situation. Link felt on edge; cornered almost. Like a deep long forgotten reflex waiting for the opportunity to strike. Link inquired, [Why would I need her help? Just what do you think is going on to ask such strange questions?]

Looking him over, she was expecting a joke or sarcasm, but she didn't receive any such thing. And thankfully, M went straight to the point, even if she now looked uncomfortable. “You're pregnant.”

With an amused huff and a smirk, Link shook his head. Relaxing, he stood up straighter and stepped forward from the wall. [That's ridiculous.]

“No, it's not.” M did not take kindly to Link's reaction and thus, dropped any built-up concern for the young man. The edge returning to her voice and gestures. Prodding him in the shoulder with a finger, she continued. “You know what your body is capable of. I even double checked your neck in case it was just a scent lingering on your clothes. You're likely more than a few weeks along if I can smell it, you possibly missed a fever already.”

[I haven't,] Then Link paused and his expression fell, because he just realized that he had no way of knowing for sure. After all, he was more careful now to take his elixirs in a timely matter and added mint to his clothing accordingly. He hasn't experienced a fever since today, since... all those months ago. [But my fever was triggered early.]

“Look, Link,” Even if she was becoming frustrated, she made sure to keep her voice down. “I've already told you I don't really know much about your kin. Maybe I'm wrong. I'm just saying, your scent has changed drastically. You smell like my wife did when she was pregnant.”

The young man still denied any of this. He had to. It was absurd, unbelievable, impossible. Right? Sidon was too different; a Zora, a race that laid eggs. If Link was a Rito, maybe there could have been a possibility. But that clearly wasn't the case.

“I'm not saying this to be cruel, Link. If I wanted to make you feel like a fool, I would have made a scene back there. The only thing I ask of you, is that if you want to get rid of it, please ask someone else. Don't ask my wife.”

Get rid of it? He couldn't. Could he? Link thought about the possibility, about his duty, about his purpose. If there really was something growing in his belly, what should he do? What was right? What was more important?

Then the memory of that awkward, yet tender moment when they laid hands over one another, came back to him. Sidon's gentle and warm touch over Link's bandages, that bashful joy across his lips.

But...perhaps, some part of me hoped that there was a chance.

Link grabbed his stomach defensively at the thought. If there was...

He acted out of impulse. Unstrapping the Sheikah slate was easily done in one motion, a reflex built up over time. He selected the Zora's Domain and tapped the confirmation box. However, the tablet slipped out of his hand and clattered along the floor.

Link's hands didn't shake, his body didn't so much as tremble. There was no frustration, anger nor grief, there didn't feel like there was anything. Just stillness and silence.

In the faint candle light of the hall, the slate felt like a beacon with the faded map of Zora's Domain still open.

Across the screen stated: Action rejected. Instant transportation cannot be done with more than one person.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

“--, any more questions?” M grumbled as she poured herself another cup of tea. Wanting this ordeal to be over with, she didn't enjoy this personal of a topic and with an audience no less. But she supposed it was worth something educating Hylians that were willing to try and understand.

“No, I think I got everything, thank you.” Ingo finished adding the last of the notes to his journal.

“Actually, I have a question.” Senza raised her hand to further her insistence. “Not so much about my teammate, but something important none the less.”

“And what might that be?”

“Will you be assisting the Captain in the rescue mission?”

Both M and R glanced to Link at the other end of the table. He hadn't spoken much during this debrief, both deep in thought and pestered by Kattan. She wasn't comfortable with the knights and sat right next to Link so she could press against him or hang onto him as a safety net of sorts.

“No.” M stated flatly and sipped her tea.

“Now, now.” R quickly piped up and addressed the question properly. “The truth is, Sir Link hasn't shared any interest in either of us joining in on something so dangerous. It has only been recently that I have been given the suppressant recipe to help refine it. While effective, there are still some flaws, as the goal is blocking the drastic change in the body from effecting the person's decisions. This includes the scent factor, as consistently wearing masks of mint are unrealistic.”

Ingo fidgeted with his own mask from the remark and nervously glanced to Link as he no longer had one. But the captain had simply taken a seat after he returned without any proper explanation. Only briefly stating that he 'didn't need it right now'. Whatever that meant.

Senza then continued. “I see, and how close are you to perfecting this medicine?”

R smiled proudly and hooked an arm around Kattan, pulling her in close. Though she still refused to let go of Link completely, fingers pinching at his sleeve. “Thanks to my lovely helper and volunteer here, I believe I'm just about there! I think this next batch will be the one.”

Link snapped to attention and looked to the Hylian woman in concern. She's testing the new elixirs? I should be the one testing them. That's dangerous!

Kattan took notice of his quick reaction. She gave a timid smile, not wanting to cause any trouble and reassured him. [I'm okay. I want to help. Like you did for me.]

“So...” Shad began as he helped himself to another biscuit. “Are there any others that are a part of this secret operation?”

The Gerudo woman clicked her tongue in irritation. “Thank Hylia, no.”

Link tapped the table to draw in everyone's attention. [The head of the Sheikah is aware of my investigation and will give me aid. I plan to bring forth my findings within the next two days.]

“Lady Impa?” R beamed with excitement. “If she's backing you up, you'll have elite warriors at your side! That's wonderful!”

“I’d expect nothing less from you Captain.” Senza sat up a little straighter, a rare smile on her lips.

"Ya, well. That's not all!” Madas stood up abruptly with both hands on his hips. “The best knights of Hyrule will fight at his side! Myself and platoon forty-eight!”

“Hey! You're hogging the spotlight again, Madas!” Ingo pouted and threatened to throw a half-eaten biscuit at him.

“Wait, would it be safe for you to go, Ingo?” Shad questioned, worried as he remembered what happened this morning. As Ingo was about to defend his worth, he stopped and looked to Link. So did the other team members.

[No more dangerous than it will be for me.] Was the answer and everyone seemed to be all the more encouraged to take on the mission. All but M who cast a knowing look to Link, then to the table blocking the view of his lower torso and back up at him.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

They were all grateful to the married couple for the hospitality, even if it had began with a rocky start. The night ended with warm food in their bellies from a late supper and more casual topics.

While it was cramped, R managed to find a place for everyone to sleep. Everyone was in agreeance that Link and Ingo shouldn't share a close space for the night. With the boys; Shad, Madas and Ingo set up in R's apothecary and study. Senza and Link would share a room with Kattan, but that had been an awkward situation in of itself.

Originally Kattan was completely against Senza being in the room, because she still didn't trust any of the knights. Even with Senza offering to be tied up for the night, it was still a no. M; of course, threw Link under the wagon. Suggesting that she snuggles up with him for safety and Senza sleeps on the floor.

So, here was Link, sharing the single bed with Kattan. He felt like her oversized teddy bear as she hugged him tightly and used his chest as a pillow, while she snored like an old dog. Quiet, mostly groans, but had the irregular whistle every couple minutes. How she was comfortable like this was beyond him, her right arm had to be packed with pins and needles by now.

A shared sleeping space was nothing new to him, nor was this position particularly unique. More than once, camping during missions turned into dog piles, whether due to lack of space or warmth. Sometimes it was for the feeling of safety for the one that was gravely injured. Link never once had an issue with any of the situations and this one was no different.

But of all the recollections passing through his mind, there was this one time that lingered. It had been such a deep, restful sleep and yet, there was a strange feeling of awareness. The occasional drop of weight across him; whether it be limb or tail. The night he had been caught up in Sidon's sleeping embrace. As the hero, a life full of struggle and fighting, Link had never felt as secure and relaxed as he did then.

This however, this was uncomfortable. A little painful even. With one of Kattan's arms underneath him, low down on his spine too, his back was arched at an odd angle. After about three hours of not moving, it was beginning to ache. And somehow it felt like he was being pinched by her head. Maybe if the bed had more pillows or the bed was soft enough to sink into, it wouldn't be so bad.

Not that Link was in any place to complain. He had slept in worse conditions; had dealt with far worse pain or irritations, and this was to help out someone in need. Facing knights that still hunted her thoughts, even if forty-eight meant no harm, was none the less a terrifying experience. The least he could do was offer Kattan some form of peace.

Kattan shifted and gave a small stretch, mumbling nonsense. However, when her arms returned to wrap around him, her hand went under his shirt and rested at the end of his rib cage. Link was not sensitive to contact, certainly not under normal means, manhandling came with the job on a daily basis. Be it knights, civilians or monsters. But the brief skin to skin contact over his stomach made Link flinch and his heart pound as his body seized up. If not for that, he was certain that he would have done something he would have regretted.

Because he was very familiar with what this feeling was. Such a highly defensive reaction normally occurred in combat. All he could do was picture every way he could get out of her hold or render Kattan unable to fight back. To hurt her or kill her, if need be. It was more startling than anything. Though the feeling did not last long nor did Link wake her up from the situation.

As Link took slow and even breaths to calm his racing heart. He chose to ignore any other thought and tried to pick something that would help him focus. My will and mind is of the people, the innocent. My body-

But his thoughts are interrupted by Sidon's voice. You matter, Link! Not as a hero, not as a warrior, not as a weapon. You matter as a person.

That was not helping right now. But try as he might, the prince and his words continued to run wild in his mind. Link's pulse wouldn't come down and he couldn't keep his breathing regular. So, he opted for a visual distraction and pulled the slate from under his pillow.

When the screen lit up the dark room, that message was the first thing he saw. He had forgotten that he had not closed anything and that the screen had simply turned off to standby. Link's mind was silent now and he wished for anything but. Because anything at this moment would be better than the reminder of these words.

Action rejected. Instant transportation cannot be done with more than one person.

Enough! Link told himself as he shut everything down and put the slate back. In all these months, all this time, not once had he suddenly felt nauseous as he did now. His heart thundered uncontrollably as he fought to keep his breathing silent and the rising bile of his stomach down.

Enough! Link draped an arm over his eyes as everything was starting to sting, every tiny movement hurt all over. Yet it did not stop him from using his free hand to press into his agitated abdomen. The slightly defined muscle was still firm as ever and while the pressure hurt, it brought some relief to reframe from being sick.

Enough. Link tried to will himself to pass out, but he could settle for a sleepless night if it meant his body wouldn't force him to purge dinner. So, he focused on the discomfort, the ache that rolled around his body and waited for dawn.

Rested or restless.

Link was going to leave for the Domain first thing, the moment everyone woke up.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

In the hours before dawn, the waters are pleasantly cool around the shrine. The elegant luminous stonework that made up this cavern glowed softly and rang ever so gently with hums. The pink Zora mother sat at the edge of the pool, tenderly rocking her egg as if it was lulled by a current. But her eyes were set on the shrine and not her unborn child, aware that she was being watched.

“Little one keeping you up?”

She was not the least bit surprised by Rivan's attempt to approach discreetly or his comment, he wasn't necessarily wrong. Now looking down at her egg, Gaddison spoke somewhat awkwardly. “You could say that.”

Rivan moved to sit next to her before he replied. “Something on your mind then?” The brown Zora was already armed and ready for the rotation of the guard. With time to spare, he had gone on an aimless stroll and wound up at the shrine. To find Gaddison here of all places, it was quite the coincidence.

“Do you remember when your magic awakened?” Gaddison asked, looking back at the shrine.

Rivan followed suit as he chuckled and gave an awkward smile. “I don’t think Bazz will ever let me forget the time I thought I killed my mate just as their labour began.” That was so long ago and he couldn’t recall the last time any of them had talked about it. It was certainly funny in the aftermath of the event; a pair of bonded younglings having a typical maternal spat and then suddenly the baby decides to break up the fight. Only for Rivan’s magic to surge during the moment of panic and make everything worse.

“No, I mean do you remember what it felt like? Did you know right from the start or did it take time to notice it was there?”

The man was quiet for a moment and then stared down at his feet as they waded in the pool. “It’s difficult to say... I remember the moment our souls merged and the feeling of our bond becoming whole. But the power I gained from it? It could have been lost in the new experience for all I know; even as months passed, I was still overwhelmed by it from time to time. Feeling my mate’s pain, their joy from across the Domain. The way their soul could pull on mine like a leash. The weight of their soul on mine when I so much as touched their hand. So, I can’t say that I noticed a difference from before and when I used it for the first time.”

“Do you still feel your bond as you once did?”

“Since we ended our relationship? No. However, I do think that we’re one of the luckier ones. We can still go to each other to restore our strength without any problems, unlike so many other former couples.” They may not be lovers anymore, not even the closest of friends, but they clearly still care and respect one another. “It has grown weak, it has made my magic weak, but it will still forever be a part of me.”

Gaddison sighed. “I guess it wouldn’t be called a soul bond if it was possible for it to be destroyed.”

“And why is this bothering you exactly? It’s not like you’ve got one.” Rivan teased her with a bit of a smirk, yet when he saw her lips twitch into a frown; even for a second, he knew that something bad was coming.

“I think I might.” She said quietly, as if she was worried someone might be listening in on them.

His tone quickly intensifies. “You think? Gad!” He wasn’t trying to freak out, but with her not showing much interest in romance. Heck, he had never known her to have eyes for anyone. Rivan couldn’t help but fear for his friend. It had him jumping to a horrible possible outcome, that Gaddison had an unwanted soul bond.

There was more than just one method to make one.

The most common being practically instinctual, a deep bite along the shoulders or neck when the soul is visible, where the light is the strongest. Drinking the rich energy, the mana, the life force of another person and stoking your own soul. With this method so powerful, it does not require the other person to return the bite to complete the binding of souls.

As for the second form, it isn’t for the faint of heart. Even if it is used often in weddings. The person’s soul doesn’t need to be showing and it doesn’t require a bite either. All that is needed is an exchange of blood, as small as a glass of wine.

Less likely and least expected, is one forming due to strong reciprocating emotions. Whether it be joy or anger. However, it can take years to complete a bond this way. Making it unfavourable for those wanting it and unfortunate to those wanting anything but.

But as much as these soul bonds are a blessing; they could be just as much as a curse. They can be made with ill intent. As bonds are magical in nature and magic does not have emotion; it does not feel. No good or bad, right or wrong; only existence.

“Gad, are you sure?” Rivan pressed.

“I don’t know. I get a feeling every now and then, like I need to be somewhere. I’ve tried to follow it... I think? I can’t remember if I have, but it doesn’t seem like something I would just ignore.” Gaddison expressed her confusion with uncertain hand gestures and then curling up around the egg with her forehead on her knees. Groaning in frustration over her inability to put everything into words. “I don’t feel right, nothing feels right! I’m doubting myself, my sanity with every day that brings this egg closer to hatching.”

“The fear of becoming a parent I under-”

“Rivan!” She finally snapped, tensing up as her voice began to waver. Vulnerability breaking out with weak hysterical laughter as she lifted her head. “I don’t even know whose child this is. I barely remember giving birth and honestly, it’s the only piece of evidence that the egg is mine at all. Yet despite how frightening and messed up this is; I never once told anyone!? Not Bazz, not you? And to keep it to myself for over two years!? Does that sound like something I would do?”

Of course it doesn’t, it sounded like this was right out of a nightmare. Rivan grabbed her by the shoulder. “There is only one explanation, someone is manipulating your memories with magic. Is there anyone that you can think of that would want to hurt you?”

“No.”

If not to hurt her, maybe this was out of jealousy. Of her and whoever the sire of their egg is, of not being the one to have her. “Has anyone been trying to get close to you or your egg?”

Though he did not get an answer from Gaddison, her eyes seemed to become unfocused as she became very still. Like time had stopped.

“Something on your mind then?” The brown Zora was already armed and ready for the rotation of the guard. With time to spare, he had gone on an aimless stroll and wound up at the shrine. To find Gaddison here of all places, it was quite the coincidence.

“Do you remember when your magic awakened?” Gaddison asked, looking back at the shrine.

“You mean when Rivan became a living sponge?” Bazz burst out laughing, making the pair turn on him in surprise. Though he flinched when he realized Gaddison had already grabbed Rivan’s weapon. “Woah! Hold on!”

“Hylia, Captain, you scared the scales right off me!” Rivan quickly took his weapon back before Gaddison attacked Bazz with it.

“I wasn’t trying too! You two must have been having one deep conversation if you didn’t hear me.” Irritated at first, only for it to turn into smug pride. “Though, points for me for sneaking up on you, Gaddy! So much for your keen senses.”

“Jump off Shatterback Point, you over grown guppy.”

Bazz just laughed at her insults and continued to smile as he teased them. “So, what were you two really talking about? Love stories? Royal gossip? Or planning naughty things?”

“Nothing.” Gaddison answered flatly. “The conversation had barely begun before you rudely interrupted.” She just wanted to know...

Something.

But she couldn’t remember, so it probably was nothing important.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

“Captain Bazz?” The prince's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“Yes, Prince Sidon?”

The knight had been escorting him all about this morning in complete silence and was becoming greatly concerning. Sidon worried that there had been a fight between him and another, possibly a silver Zora. “You seem troubled, is everything alright?”

“Merely questioning what the future holds for us.” Bazz answered simply.

Sidon chuckled. “Quite the heavy topic. That's unusual for you.”

“What is that supposed to mean? Are you suggesting that I lack the mind for such things?”

“No, no, not at all what I meant by it. It is just unlike you to be so... serious and tense. You tend to stay on the lighter, more joyful side of things.”

The Zora guard hummed in reply before opening the door to the hall that Sidon would be attending the next meeting in. A gathering of elders, with a rather sensitive subject, Hylians; among other races, wanting to live in the Domain. “Well, let's leave it at that. I am sure the elders will be arriving shortly and I wish you the best of luck. At least you have my father on your side.”

“With the Demon Sargent, I am certain of victory!” Sidon did his signature pose as he had no doubt that this would all end well. As a bonus, he managed to earn a smile out of his friend.

“Only you,” Bazz scoffed in amusement and rolled his eyes. “only you, my Prince, could have complete confidence in facing such horrible odds of encouraging the elders into opening up to such change.”

As expected, the sounds of bitter voices could be heard coming around the corner. Bazz continued to hold the door open, while their prince happily welcomed them and addressed everyone by name. However, as he was greeting the last pair, someone completely unexpected came speeding around the corner.

“Link!?” Sidon shouted in shock as the familiar blond Hylian rushed towards him. “What are you doing here?”

When he came to a stop, Link nearly stumbled over, but despite the clear fatigue, he still managed to sign clearly. [You were right.]

Bazz glanced from Link to Sidon, but it would seem that he wasn't the only one that didn't understand what was going on.

“I'm-?” The red Zora had intended to say more, however the elders were already glowering at the intrusion of Link. Possibly the worst timing for this right now. So he held his tongue for a moment and changed the question. “Is this urgent?”

Sidon did not like the expression of uncertainty and unease Link gave him before looking to the other Zora still waiting at the door, as well as those already inside. When Sidon did not receive an answer, he had little choice but to accept it as minimum concern at the moment. The prince's smile returned, ushering the remaining guests inside and followed along afterwards. “I'm truly sorry, Link, I am currently attending to a prior engagement.”

When Sidon turned around to reassure him, that they would not be brushed off. It might have just been them still catching their breath, but the Hylian seemed to be shaking a bit. It was alarming to see the state his dear friend was in.

“I promise to speak to you the moment this meeting is over, it should only be a few hours. Please, feel free to use that room if you do not wish to wait here.” Sidon did his best to remain optimistic and smile, before looking to his guard. “Captain Bazz, if you please.”

The black Zora simply nodded and began to close the door. But in the last second of the door closing, Link seemed to panic and repeat himself. [You were right!] He said with wide eyes before grabbing a fist full of his tunic over his stomach.

Sidon did not misinterpret the suggestion. His heart sunk and with frightful eyes, his hand snapped over his mouth. And as he stared at the door, the prince didn't feel so confident anymore.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

Bazz placed a hand on Link's shoulder, startling him and redirecting his anxiety. The Zora pulled away quickly, as it seemed to only make this circumstance worse. “Link, has something happened? Are you okay?”

[I'm fine.] He replied quickly and then slapped his cheeks, as if to help snap himself out of whatever was bothering him.

“You don't look fine. Is there something I can do to help?” Bazz offered gently, unsure of how to handle Link with him like this. “Or would you prefer to wait for Prince Sidon?”

[No. No, thank you, I'll wait in the study.] Link shook his head and took a step back. [Let him know for me, would you?]

“Sure, I can pass that on. But, which study?” There were more than three within the surface half of the palace. But he was not at all expecting Link to say it was the one that was made of wood. Bazz visibly stiffened, he knew exactly which room and he had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could speak again. “That... that is not a study.”

[What else could it be?]

There was no way that Bazz could tell him and certainly not like this. It should be Sidon who tells him, after all, he was the one that gave Link permission to be there. The room that had been made specially for Sidon and his... uniqueness. Yet another thing that was best told from the man himself. It had been built at the request of late Queen Shiel and it was also the very same room in which she died in.

“I know which room and I'll inform Sidon when he is finished.” He redirected and took up his post at the door. “I'll personally make sure he gets there as soon as possible. Take care, alright?”

With a nod and a wave, Link left.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

The door opened so slowly that Link didn't realize that it was moving until it softly creaked to a stop. He merely glanced to acknowledge the movement, before tending back to the fire. Link could understand his hesitation or the unusual lack of enthusiasm. Sitting here and waiting, with only his thoughts, it had made him even more nervous and worried. Link even had to toss the Sheikah slate aside to stop himself from attempting other locations, as if expecting it to suddenly change.

So, he waited for Sidon to enter.

“Oh my.” A slow and amused voice spoke out, making the Hylian jump to his feet at the ready. The grip on the Master Sword was tighter than necessary; sparking, zapping pain shot up through his hand and his hair stood on end. Their eyes met and Sado purred with delight. “I was wondering what was taking you so long, but this is quite the interesting room.”

Link glared and released the weapon quickly; this was not a fight worth risking the blade’s backlash. [Get out!] Infuriated that the tall Zora would even dare come near him after what happened last time, let alone enter Sidon's study. [You are not allowed in this place.]

The silver chuckled and stepped away from the entrance, his freakishly long head fin slithering along behind him. “I can't understand your weird hand thing, little one.”

Refusing to give this man any sort of gratification, Link approached and shoos Sado with a simple gesture. [Did you get that or are you going to fake ignorance?]

“You know, I was lucky to overhear that you had unexpectedly arrived today. And I just couldn't pass up the opportunity. I've been following you ever since you left that clever, little black. Always knows when something is amiss that one.” Sado grinned and offered a hand out towards the door. “Why don't you come with me, little one? There is much to prepare.”

Link's glare intensified as he shook his head in reply and crossed his arms. With another soft chuckle, Sado crouched down and while he still towered over Link, it was closer to eye level. He reached out to put a hand on the smaller man's shoulder, but they were faster to retaliate and grab Sado's neck. Link's hand was far too small to wrap around entirely, but he could still get a good grip on their larynx and dig his fingers into the major arteries below the jaw.

“Oh, yes! Don't stop fighting, little one.” Sado's eye widened with glee, even if it was difficult to talk around the pressure and pain. “You're too perfect to let this end quickly.”

With a snap, a rush of heat, of nerves going haywire; Sado's surprised expression is the last thing Link sees before everything fades away to darkness.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

Link is only vaguely aware, fluttering between a dream like state and numbness. He feels cool and wet, with his hair and clothing hugging his skin. While something seems to be moving around on the inside. A strange weight almost, swimming around his organs. Link flinches when it brushes past something in his chest, it didn't hurt necessarily, but it wasn't welcome, it was wrong. He relaxes once more when it moves away, but whatever it was, now grabs at his insides and begins to tear it from his body.

Link screams, shocked into consciousness as he tries to flee from whatever is attacking. Realizing that his arms are restrained above his head and his feet are bound together. He can feel a hand wrapped around his calf keeping him still.

Fighting through the pain, vision beginning to focus on his surroundings. Link discovers that he's in a cavern or dungeon from the looks of the smooth, carved stone room. Placed sitting upright with his back against a wall, on his left is a strange silver Zora he’s not sure he recognizes and an unusual, green haired Hylian on the right. They don’t so much as bat an eye at him waking, struggling and shouting. While the Zora holds him steady, the Hylian appears to be almost elbow deep through Link's snow tunic and just below his sternum.

“That was quite the strange room you were in.” Sado's voice snaps Link’s attention away, he couldn't be far off, but is out of Link’s sight. “I didn’t intend to inflict that much on you, but it felt like I couldn’t... disperse... like I normally could. So, most of it actually went to you. Ops!” Sado sounded like he was more impressed than regretful. But the anger it brought Link only aided his will to push aside the pain and fight back.

The Zora at Link's side grabbed hold of his shoulder and shoved him back against the wall. “Oh, please do continue speaking. I enjoy it when I have to work harder to block out your arrogance.” Hine spoke dryly and added more force to her grip on the blond. He was indeed stronger than he looked, it was like she was trying to pin down someone closer to her size. That’s even with the man shackled to the wall.

Within that moment a green glow began to emit from Link, more accurately, from where the Hylian had their hand digging around inside him. The torture only got worse, like barb wire was being threaded through his skin. A sensation like that of fabric tearing apart ghosted over his whole body. Link was screaming again, till his lungs ran empty, trailing off into strangled breaths. Even with Link’s vision turning hazy, he could see that a mass was being pulled from his torso. There was no wound nor blood. It was almost smoke-like or perhaps closer to fire? When the last strands finally left him, so did the pain. Leaving Link gasping and trembling in relief.

“This one was more difficult than the last.” The Hylian finally spoke, but his voice was vacant of emotion. He held the lively, shifting mass in one hand and a chunk of black rock in the other. He then brought them together like one would clap their hands and the wisps dissipated in a flash. When they open their hands there now sat a glowing emerald; the two had become one. “It is better to harvest the source.”

Sado groaned, likely rolling his eyes as well. “Yes, that would be just dandy, wouldn’t it? Well, tough. Finish the job, Kuu. There should be two more.”

“What if he dies?” Hine asked simply, like it would be a small mishap.

“He won’t~.” Came the purr of a reply.

Kuu didn’t say another word and as the emerald’s light flickered out, he set it aside. It was then that Link realized what they were taking from him, what was being so ruthlessly torn out. He could already recognize the lack of connection, just like before, he couldn’t feel her anymore. Urbosa was gone.

Link couldn’t think of a single word worthy of his wrath. It was you! You’re the one that hurt Mipha! You took her from me! Now, Urbosa!?

Before they could attempt to take the remaining two souls of the champions from him. A blast of wind was summoned forth, the gale twisting within the small room. Revali's power expelled the two away from Link with greater might than usual, as if the Rito’s spirit was sharing his rage through their connection.

Kuu gave a small pained yelp as he landed on his shoulder and tumbled back in a few bad rolls. Hine, though, was heavier and only landed roughly on her back. However, she was quick to scramble over to the Hylian, as distressed whines reached her ears. So quiet, it was something only she would be able to recognize in the scuffle. “Kuu!”

“Ah, shit…” Even with the torches threatening to go out from the wind, Link could now see Sado from where he stood in the corner. But now the tall man seemed to be preparing to jump into a fight with Hine. And Link did not hesitate to bring up Daruk’s barrier before the gift of wind ran its course.

As Hine looked over her claim for damage, Kuu trailed his hand over the small swell of his middle. While his face still wore no expression, his hands had a slight tremble to them. Kuu’s voice was smaller than before. “I didn’t land on your pup. They are fine, my warlord. I can continue, I will finish the task.”

Then Link’s eyes widened, shocked at what he was hearing and dreading the meaning of those words. Tempted to pray that he was misunderstanding the situation. As for Sado, he relaxed and sank back into his corner. Though he gave a small smirk when he realized Link that was now glaring at him. “Don’t break on me now, little hero.”

Bastard! Damn you to hell! Link gave his best snarl. The silver freak knew Link wouldn’t just give them what they wanted. But Link also wouldn’t knowingly put an innocent life in danger.

Defend the champions within him and fight back?

Or stop resisting and keep an unborn child from harm?

Link’s resentful eyes fell on the pregnant Hylian, a sickening feeling of guilt and fear settled within him. Unable to stop himself, he could now see Judo in Kuu and…himself. Link lowered his head in defeat and the ruby shield crumbled away.

Sado's deep, maniacal laughter echoed around the room. “Excellent! Marvellous!”

The next time Link lifted his gaze, it was to face the Hylian. He did not care that Hine threatened to kill him or watched his every move with a monstrous expression. What mattered was that he remained fixed on Kuu, a wordless promise that this wasn’t over, that he wasn’t simply giving in.

Kuu’s hand slipped into his chest like he was playing with a bowl of water. The clothing even seemed to ripple around the other’s hand. Watching how he did it and feeling this all happen at the same time made Link nauseous.

Try as he might to keep himself composed, to stay strong and prove he could take it. That they would have to do better to break him. And while it was true that it would take more than physical pain. The moment Kuu caught one of the souls he was fishing for. Link writhed and wailed once more. The brief minutes it took for the champion to be torn out felt so much longer than in actuality.

This soul was twilight blue, creating a deep sapphire.

Daruk... It was only the second extraction and it was already taking a huge toll on him. It was as though his strength had been cut in half with each loss. Feeling weaker, as though he was losing more than just their powers, their connection. Link didn't know if he could stay awake through the last one. Forgive me. Everyone. I promise, I will save you all and set you free.

As Kuu resumed and reached in to take Revali, Link readied himself for the pain, but felt none this time. Even before the light of the soul could emerge, Kuu stopped.

“What is it?” Hine asked, noticing his pause and that it meant more than something as simple as a break.

“He’s not screaming.”

Sado titters in amusement. “Having fun, are we?”

Not giving him any form of satisfaction by playing along, Kuu stated his find and ignored the question. “This soul is not tied to his. There aren’t only four souls in this body.”

Now this was a surprise. “A secret? With the records, there should only be three left as we took one months ago.” Sado approached to have a look, even if there wasn’t much to see.

“No. Unlike you, Sado, his body works.” Hine groaned in irritation, as this was just adding to her souse’s workload. “Though, I doubt you would have use for a premature soul.”

Link tensed up, but tried not to give any visual indication of how it affected him that they now knew he was carrying. The sickening amusement on Sado’s face was enough cause for alarm.

“My, isn’t this just precious! I could smell your building heat when we had that tiff in the square. Such a delicious taste lingered on my tongue for days.” He practically moaned with delight, voice rumbling in his throat. “I don’t doubt that he could have kept his hands off you. I dare well say, I nearly lost my mind. Little prince fucked you good, like a proper souse and even managed to pup you. Didn’t he?”

Still, Link managed to suppress any outward response, however no matter how he tried to ignore the vulgarity and keep his thoughts from wandering to Sidon. Sado was beginning to get under his skin; as much as he wishes to deny it, feelings of distress and shame were already on the rise. Not for what Sidon and he had done, but because he had got caught in possibly the worst situation right now.

“How long has he been mounting you, I wonder? It’s not common; even for a primal, to bring a souse of a different species to pup after just one heat or even a couple. Is that why you were in that room? His nest to routinely attempt to breed pups out of you.”

“A reason to challenge for the right of their pups would be problematic for your plans.” Kuu offered, bringing an end to the horrible ramble Sado was making before he could utter another word. “Fastest and easiest solution; removal of rival pups.”

Such a drastic suggestion caught Link off guard and irrationally tried to flee from Kuu’s reach, but Hine was expecting it. With one hand snapping around his neck, the force caused Link to hit the back of his head on the wall and left his vision swaying. Hine’s other hand grasping his thigh so roughly that he could feel her claws digging into his skin through his trousers. Trembling; from fear or exertion, the war of denial only aided his panic, his gaze snapping from the hand still submerged in his belly to Kuu himself.

Sado hummed dramatically in thought and paced about the small space, delighted over the idea, over the control he had in this very moment. “Just what are we dealing with?”

“I can’t tell what race without seeing the soul. Separating it even slightly will result in immediate death.”

“Numbers?”

“Unsure, I can only trap one soul at a time.”

“Surprises, surprises!”

Hine took her eyes off Link for a moment to glare up at the man. “Enough, Sado. Make a decision. If we’re caught by Yanun when she’s looking for you to start the ceremony, we’re all dead.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed, annoyed that he couldn’t continue playing. Regardless if Hine was right. “I’ll let him keep it--them-whatever, if it even survives. Saves me some face if he is at least seen as bred in the first few months. Just get that other soul out and I’ll be on my way to prepare.”

Relief is not something he given much time to experience before Kuu releases the child’s soul to continue their task. Link barely manages to cling to consciousness after the last of the champions is turned into a gem. Peridot this time. He tried to embed the size, shape and colour into his memory, just like the others. Who knew if there was a way to tell them apart from normal gems so as far as he was concerned, every little detail was critical.

Sado took his trophy of jewels and left, though Hine would not be far behind. After she fixed Kuu’s black garments and hair, preening him so she was satisfied that he was perfect. She then pressed him against her, a trill growl came from Hine; protective and possessive. When Hine turned her gaze on Link, she flashed her teeth and tightened her hold on Kuu for a second, then she released him and left. Leaving just the two Hylians alone.

A minute hadn’t even gone by before Kuu asked an unusual question. “Does the primal treasure you.” Well, the words suggested one, but his voice remained hollow and almost ghostly.

When Link didn’t answer, Kuu placed his hand on Link’s stomach. It was unsettling, to feel such normal contact after all that. “Do you want to do this.”

Link struggled to lift his gaze to give Kuu a hard look. Was this some pathetic attempt to make amends? After baiting Sado like that? After turning the souls of the champions into trinkets!? This man would have to beg Hylia for forgiveness and mercy, because they wouldn’t get any from Link. But being left unable to answer, through the ache and exhaustion Link shifted as far away as his shackled wrists would allow. Curling his bound legs up to his chest and turning so his back now faced Kuu.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

“Aw, don’t tell me you’ve gotten all shy on me now.” Sado teased softly and roughly yanked Link’s legs towards him. Link struggled, being hard to deal with, but not putting up a real fight. Some energy for resistance had returned to the Hylian, but from the feel of things, Sado guessed he had an hour or so before Link became problematic to handle.

Hine didn’t even look at Link, dropping a lump of black cloth within arm's reach and procured her souse. Cupping Kuu in her arm like one would hold a house cat. She was in and out under a minute.

As the silver Zora set Link’s bound feet on his lap, he began to click a pair of shackles together just above the rope. “Wouldn’t want you to get cold feet.” He said with a smirk and then sliced the rope with his claws.

With his ankles no longer crossed and tightly bounded together, it was far more comfortable. Link swiftly drew his legs back and kicked Sado in the gills with his heels. His back braced against the wall only aided his limited strength. As Sado gasped and wheezed in pain, Link rolled away.

Had tried to roll away, before the other caught him by the hip. “That… that was a dirty trick!” He was pissed, but also smiling with glee. “But.” Sado dug his claws into the thick snow trousers, eyeing Link carefully. Not that he was worried about what Link was up to next, on the contrary, he loved it. Mere moments from the ceremony, after all the suffering they put him through, and Link was still resisting.

“What now, little one? Wasted energy, I say. You should have saved it for a better opportunity.” His voice rumbled on the borderline of a growl and Link did nothing other than keep a firm glare. “How about we just focus on getting you ready, hmm? Yanun is particular about these ridiculous things."

Sado effortlessly ripped Link’s clothing to ribbons, rather than even try to remove them properly. As it was being destroyed, Link was no longer protected by its abilities and the sudden drop in temperature made him tremble.

“Hmmm.” Sado paused to fiddle with the trinkets braided into the blond’s hair, eyeing the feathers in particular. “I think I'll leave this alone. It might make her uncomfortable.”

The Rito headdress was the only thing that Link believed kept him from freezing to death, and it was also the only thing Sado left him. If the Zora’s plan was to humiliate him, he was failing, Link could care less if anyone saw him naked. What Link still didn’t know or understand was why his clothing had been soaked to begin with. It wasn’t to wake him up. None of them clearly cared about waking after he was brought to wherever here was.

The contact of honed points jolts Link into focusing back on Sado, on his clawed fingers, slowly going over the expanse of his stomach. Even if his instincts screamed and all Link wanted to do was get away or fight back again. Link knew better not to. “Tell me, as a warrior, do you still feel like a souse? Do you feel the joy and thrill in being bred?” Sado asked with great amusement and Link felt an ever so slight change in pressure. Sado’s roaming claws did not break the skin, but left a trail of stinging, white marks. “Does your body still sing with felicity in knowing you bear fruit for a primal, for the little Prince?”

Something horrible stirred inside Link, he felt sick, his nerves hummed in confused fear and excitement. Helpless in this twisted man’s hands, helpless in Link’s own darkening mind, for giving into this very feeling. But if it weren’t for them, for what was festering in his guts. This wouldn’t be happening. None of this would have led to this. Any words from today would hold no bite, no affect, he could fight back without having to second guess anything. This… this is why I-!

“First lesson.”

Link gasped in pain as Sado sliced diagonally across his stomach with one claw. Blood spreading like a thick brush stroke over his cold, pale skin.

“If I ask you a question, you answer. I don’t care that you’re mute, you nod or shake your head.” He held the Hylian’s ankles in a bruising grip, preventing Link from fleeing or guarding himself. Link maybe had another second; he barely was even able to reply with a scowl, before Sado cut him again. Creating a lopsided, bright red X.

Stop! He thrashed in Sado’s hold, Link wasn’t thinking clearly, he wasn’t able to. Danger, escape, protect, at any cost, at any risk. Another pained noise made it past Link’s lips as all five claws pierced into the flesh of his lower belly. He was going to be gutted! No, no! Link shook his head frantically.

The claws withdrew and Sado’s smile returned in mock sweetness, content with the reply. “There, now that wasn’t so hard was it, little one?”

Link shook his head.

“Better. Don’t think for a second that I won’t hesitate to kill whatever may be in here.” He said simply and flicked harshly at the wounds just to make Link wince. Then he leaned in closer, hovering over top of Link, face inches from the other. “Games of the flesh are effortless and offer no challenge for me. Understand this; I would find more pleasure in forcing you to pick which of your friends will get the shell of who you once were, when I’m done with you. Than something as simple as mutilating your body.” Sado seemed utterly annoyed and disgusted that the words came from his own mouth. Sitting back up, he reached out with his bloody claws to the bolt fixing Link’s shackles to the wall and yanked it free with a few sharp tugs. He let the metal chain fall on Link. “So, play nice and we won’t bore ourselves with the barbarous games. Are we in agreeance?”

Swallowing his emotions in effort to regain some semblance of control over this situation, Link nodded.

“Oh, come now, don’t be like that. It’s not as though I plan to kill you. Where’s the fun in that? If I have any say in it, I would prefer that your friend killed you out of pity. So, don’t be so quick to jump to conclusions, little one.” Sado playfully bopped him on the nose and then yanked Link to his feet by the chains like some dark marionette. “Now, behave and I will reward you with less pain.”

For the brief duration of whatever Sado was preparing him for, Link complied and didn’t act upon any hasty ideas. The black garment that Hine had brought them didn’t give Link much of anything. It wasn’t warm, the light fabric barely dried Link off and it didn’t cover half of his body. It had a triangular design, hanging from the loose, bone collar piece. The open sides were held together with three ribs each.

“Stop picking at it and clean the blood off yourself.” Sado ordered and stood up. Link did what he could and utilized the moment to skim through the remains of his Snowquill tunic. Unsurprising, they had picked him clean before he regained consciousness. For now, he made a temporary bandage from the scraps and then straightened the outfit before the Zora could demand more.

With the chains in hand, Sado led Link out of the room. As they walked down the passageway, Hine was waiting for them at a large door and followed along into a great open space. At its centre was a ten foot ring of water, a faint steam rising from the surface. Link had almost mistaken it for a hot spring, but the light coming up from the depths suggested otherwise. That’s when it clicked, he was in an underwater cavern and Link’s eyes widened at realizing just how close to home he really was. We’re still in the Domain.

Deep beneath the Zora’s Domain is a magma chamber linked to Death Mountain. Boiling waterways that the Zora people have learned to direct to their home as needed. It keeps the main lake from ever freezing over and the bottom comfortably warm even in the coldest winters. The surface; and even the waters flowing through the palace, are about as cool as a lake in spring, but no less dangerous for anyone other than a Zora to be swimming in.

“I thought I told you to get rid of that sword.” Link heard Sado hiss at Hine and she was quick to snap back.

“Not unless you want to remodel.”

With a quick glance up at the confrontation and then around the room, the Hylian spotted what sword they argued over. Resting just shy of the water's edge was the Master Sword.

“My patience is wearing thin with your remarks, Hine!” He warned and loomed over the smaller Zora.

“It cannot be moved! The belt tore- you should have just kept it on the souse!”

Link rushed for it, having forgot about the chains and they gave away his intentions. Sado was quick to yank him back from obtaining the weapon and Link landed harshly on his side.

“Ho oh oh! That was soooo close!” He laughed and began to reel the small man in like some sort of fish on a line. In a last resort, Link kicked his legs out and managed to hit the tail end of the scabbard. It spun and wobbled along the edge before slowly tilting and slipping into the water. “And there it goes. Well, you won’t be getting it now, little one.”

Sado let the chain go slack and left Link to get back on his feet. It took more effort that necessary, again seemingly wasting what little strength he had regained. Sado may believe that was unfavourable, but with things as they were, Link was going to need backup. There were plenty of Zora in the Domain that knew what the Master Sword looked like and who it belonged to. Hopefully, it would be found and the guard would be informed. Bazz or Rivan would know what to do.

Link's cuffed wrists were harshly tugged as the pair of silver Zora headed for the door on the right. He huffed in irritation, but it didn't matter, now it was a waiting game. All he had to do was survive. Upon entering, Link observed that this hall was vastly different than the corridor he woke up in. Tapestries covered most of the walls and torches spaced out in between. They were all red with erratic, black ink painted images of fearsome shark like creatures. Each design was different, yet held similar characteristics; the head shape of a spear and multiple fins.

“It is unwise to test my patience.” A woman informed the approaching group. Link recognized the voice before Hine moved aside, it was the silver princess. She stood on a low platform before a massive statue carved right out of the wall. It was like the tapestries, a monster of the water, only this one's body was mostly bone. Fish were posed swimming out from it's body with strips of flesh in their mouths. The beast's wounds and flesh were adorned with rubies, while the rest was left to be natural rock. Ribs, claws and pointed fins surrounded the beast. Its jaw was rigged to a pair of chains that went through passages in the ceiling and appeared to be keeping the mouth firmly shut.

Sado got down on one knee. “It was not my intentions, but the spirit of this souse put a bit of a delay on his preparations.”

Yanun hummed and cast her gaze on Link. Her expression of distaste betrayed the calmness in her voice. “Welcome, blessed one, to our shrine.” She then looked to Hine. “You are Sado's witness for his trials of Prima?”

“Yes, Priestess.”

“How amusing... First Sado renounces his place,” She glares at the man for a moment. “so that you may take his role as my Warlord. And, now,” Then her gaze returns to Hine with more ferocity. “you are here to help him obtain a right that belongs to you.”

They say nothing and she continues. “For a pair that is known for the hatred between them, you two seem to help each other out in the most monumental of times with little hesitation.”

Hine scoffed. “I give no aid to this man. I’m here for my own benefit, as my own conviction is being tested.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Sado grinned at his witness and then turned to his priestess. “I have prepared all requirements for the ceremony and I declare that my conditions of my trials complete.” He said as he gestured to a large barrel sitting nearby with a small bundle resting on top.

Yanun didn't even spare a glance to what was presumably Sado's offerings. She had saw them when she came into the hall to prepare for all of this. Anyone else would have laughed at the mockery. This was it? 'A land of wealth that Prima once had'? Three months was not long enough to complete such a task and the bastard had the guts to call for the ceremony! As she bit back her outrage, she coldly asked. “Are you certain you wish to begin? You are aware that the punishment of failure is death.”

“Come, little one.” He yanked Link forward. “This will be over shortly, I assure you that.”

Without pressing the matter any further, Yanun extended her left hand towards Link. “Souse, your chains are unnecessary. Primals, remove them.”

Link was confused as to why they were now setting him free. He wasn't so foolish to believe that he could fight them off, especially in his current state. But he did feel more relaxed with full mobility and for that he was grateful. Though there something clearly messed up going on with these silver Zora; no doubt being hidden from the native Zora, from King Dorephan. The stonework looming over Yanun was setting off not only red flags, but giving him a horrible sense of déjà vu. Link kneeled as Yanun dropped her hand.

“Let us begin.” Yanun said and turned to Hine. “Witness to the trials, come forth and give your pledge.”

Hine approached, standing on the pedestal as Yanun stepped to the side and faced the statue. At first Link thought she was going to recite a verse, but she dug her claws into her hand with a simple clench of her fist and smeared her blood over the crest. Like a spear dipped in blood. Hine then moved to kneel next to Sado.

“By law of Prima, to earn rights to life, both your lives will be taken at the expense of the primal's failure.”

To which Sado answered. “To be unfit to Prima's laws of strength, is to be food.” He then stood. “I have not failed. I have proven my trial of strength long ago and my trial of faith; is that Prima will be greatly pleased with me in the wealth of land I offer and my proof.”

“Then, primal, bring forth your proof. A land of wealth equal to that of what Prima lost.” Yanun watched him as he moved to retrieve the wrapped bundle. She was angry with him. Not only because he blatantly failed, but because he agreed to continue and she was now in a horrible position. With the terms, both Sado and Hine were to be killed. Two of her best warriors! That left her army at less than half the strength! Over what? Some stupid little game, to attempt to make a fool out of her?

Sado stood before her and then kneeled, offering the bundle wrapped in cloth. Yanun was disgusted, he didn't even have the decency to put any effort into presentation. However, she took the item without a word and unwrapped it. Dropping the scraps, all that remained was a flawed amber. “What sort of a joke is this. You failed, but for what means?” She snarled and spat. “For a laugh!?”

He smiled simply at first, though after the clear pause, he put on the theatrics. “Oh, how your words wound me, my Priestess. Does exceeding the requirements count as a failure?” Sado grasped at his heart as he held his head in his other hand. “Had I known that, I would have gone for something smaller, perhaps less useful? Oh, please, I do beg for your forgiveness!”

She scowled, realizing that she was indeed being toyed with and glanced at the amber in her hand. “And what, prey-tell, is this flawed gem meant to be? What worth is it to Prima?”

Dropping the act and still, oh so delighted. “I give you, my Priestess, the key to turning; not just the whole Zora territory or the Kingdom of Hyrule, but this whole damned world into Prima's Domain. The key to Vah Ruta.”

Link expressed no reaction. But his mind was whirling in turmoil. Link couldn't believe what he was hearing. What!? Were they planning to overthrow King Dorephan this whole time? Was conquering all of Hyrule their end goal? Regardless, there was no such thing as a key to a divine beast! Each was bound to a champion soul worthy of their power every ten thousand years! There was no way-

Kuu. That Hylian had the magic to make that nightmare a reality and Link had kept all the keys they needed.

Yanun expressed her pleasant surprise with a slight smile and then quirked a brow. The soulstone of Mipha. “Where did you find this?”

“At the bottom of the East Reservoir.”

“You are fortunate to have found this key, I am well aware of that weapon's capabilities.” She paused for a moment and gave it a test. It was not the first soulstone she had the rare opportunity to play with and was easy for her to channel its power. The amber flickered to life, glowing brightly.

I refuse to be a pawn once more!

Link could hear her voice, Mipha was still conscious and trying to fight back. I have to save her! But his body refused to move, he didn't so much as twitch. At first he thought that it was due to shock or the logical side of his mind holding him back from acting foolish again. But no. Link honestly could not move, not a wiggle of his fingers or even the batting of his eyelids. It was like being in a memory, only this time he was aware. However, it was no memory, this was now. He was trapped within his own body.

When?! When had this happened? Is this Sado's doing- no, he would have done so before hand. As would Hine. Then Link recalled his fight with Sado, how Yanun had punished him by twisting his body. She had done it all with the simple raise of a hand. Raise of a hand. She... she had done this to me the moment before they released me? It frightened him all the more to know he had been under her spell and had not felt anything. Had she been the one to control me at the castle too?

The light vanished and Yanun hummed with curiosity, before looking at Sado still kneeling before her. “While you have merely brought the promise of lands and nothing else. The risk you placed on such an item shows faith. Prima is more than pleased with this offering. You pass both trials.”

“As I expected.” Sado replied with pride. “Now, may we continue to the final act?”

His attitude normally would have ruined any joy she had at this moment. But with such a wonderful surprise, she couldn't be bothered and also wanted to end this as swiftly as possible. Yanun had other matters to attend to, plans to put into action.

She looked to Hine. “Release Prima's jaws.” Then back to Sado. “Bring forth the sacrifice.” As Hine walked over to a particular torch, it was revealed to be a lever as she pulled it down. A low whining of gears was heard above and then a rustle of chains as the maw dropped open. It was large enough that Link could have laid across with only his feet sticking out. Rows and rows of sharp, white, real teeth lined the entire mouth.

Just as Sado was cracking the lid off the barrel, Yanun beckoned Link over. “Come, souse.” Link wanted to refuse, but his body rose to his feet. His heart didn't even skip a beat, calmly pumping along like all was right in the world. Just how much control did she have.

As he sat under the statue's jaw, facing outward and Yanun sat in front of him.

“Best hurry while she is still kicking.” Sado held a plump, black shark by the tail. Yanun looked the flailing animal over with an unamused scowl. “What? I thought her to be fitting, adorned with the proper colouring of a souse and all.”

“Set her here.” Yanun pointed to the space between her and Link. Sado plopped the shark down with the belly facing the priestess. Kicking and biting aimlessly, Yanun grabbed hold of their head with her sharp claws. With her other hand she then cut open the bottom half of the shark's belly and small pups came flopping about. Yanun sorted through them. “Six pups, a decent number for such a small creature. Let us hope that you can do better in the short years you have, souse.”

With that finished, Yanun forced her hand through the shark's gills and ripped out the shark's heart. While the shark finally laid still, the heart remained beating in Yanun's hand as she held it out to Link. “Swallow the heart.”

Like the puppet she made him to be, Link's body moved without hesitation to take it and put it in his mouth. It was difficult, even if he was being forced by magic, to swallow it whole. I'm going to be sick. Link thought as he swore that he could still feel the heart moving in his stomach.

Yanun then picked up the shark, leaving the weakly kicking pups at her feet and set the body across the bed of teeth in the statue's maw. At first Link saw Hine set the lever back into place, then the next moment there is a sickening crunch and Link is showered in blood.

“Now that you have been cleansed,” Yanun held out her left hand and Link stepped out from under the remaining droplets. She carefully brushed the liquid away from his eyes. “I welcome you into the clan, souse. May Prima have you bless us with many primals.”

Sado sighed in irritation, just soft enough to get her attention, but not enough to warrant punishment. Though she still scowled as she turned Link to face him. As the giant sat, he put his forearm in front of Link's face. “Don’t hold back now.” Sado smirked and looked to Yanun, whom only responded with the flick of her fingers.

Link lurched forward and chomped down on Sado's arm. His teeth and jaw ached from hitting bone, but even his reflex to recoil from the pain had been held back. Warm blood gushed into his mouth, dripping down his chin like a ripe melon's juices. He wanted to spit it all out, but Yanun's control had him swallowing by the mouthful and burning his throat with every gulp. Link's chest sears with pain, like he was suffocating or someone was prying his rib cage open. Like that bastard was digging around inside again. It was disgusting, what they had done, what they were doing to him. Stop, damn you!

When Link let the arm go, all he could focus on was the agony and foul sensation coursing through his body. For a moment he believed his body would purge his stomach regardless of the magic at play. Regrettably, it held.

A dark purple light brought Link to focus again on what was happening before him. Sado's eyes were glowing as his soul seemed to spiral over his skin, like a tornado or whirlpool. No.

Link's gaze is shifted away as his head tilts to the side, baring his neck in offering. Don't you dare. I'll kill you!

Sado grabbed the Hylian's shoulder and a handful of hair, both actions were unnecessary as Link wasn't able to resist anyway. The Zora then whispered into Link's ear with a twisted smile. “This would have been less boring if you had played nice. I did warn you.” Sado pulled back far enough for Link to get a good look at his teeth before snapping his jaws down on the smaller man's body. The bite covered from the base of his neck to the shoulder. Link wasn't even able to scream as Sado's pointed teeth marred his flesh and crushed his collar bone. Anguish storms about Link's mind. His skin bursts into blue light as the pain digs its way down to his soul. Sidon!

He can feel his blood being sucked out of him and his vision begins to darken. Link can't take any more, he's pushed himself beyond exhaustion, carried on through too much suffering. First the champions were stripped from his soul and now his soul is being bound to another. Sidon! Please-!

“Now you're mine.”

<<–Previous Chapter-^-Next Chapter–>>

#SidLink #a/b/o verse #Mpreg #Primal FF #Written Work #Rated M #Rated R

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briefololtragedy · 4 years

Text

All Sasuke’s fault

Pairing: Itachi x Sakura

rating G

Summary: It was all Sasuke’s fault the predicament that Itachi found himself in. His father decided the best way to make smooth over the mess Sasuke made would be an arranged marriage. Itachi takes it into his own hands to find out about his prospective wife.

written for the ItaSaku gift exchange. prompt of royals. My attempt at fluff and humor

Also posted on ao3

“Ladies and gentlemen we have now landed in Sunagakure. Local time is 3pm, it is currently 35C no clouds in the sky. Once we are fully parked you may disembark from the plan. Thank you for flying with One Tail Air lines.” The flight attendant got off the intercom. The majority of the passengers were starting to twist in their seats, eyeing the overhead bins likely in anticipation of being the first one out.

A young man sighed and reclined his head back. It had been a long flight from Konoha to Suna, 12 hours of being stuck in the economy seating. A cap obscured most of his facial features and his long ebony hair was tied back neatly tucked under the cap. No one recognized him and that was his goal. His family was not going to be happy about him leaving the palace without any bodyguards.

Itachi was tired, his legs hurt, and he could already feel the sand that would start getting everywhere. The person in front of him, a slight middle age woman, reclined her seat all the way back the moment it was allowed. He could anticipate the bruises on his knees from the chair hitting him multiple times during the flight, T-shirt stained with his coffee from earlier. He reclined his head back, he had decided to be the last one off the plane. He was open to the new experience of flying with commoners and watching them all try to make a mad dash out of the plane to their destination. Itachi was at least lucky to not have seat mate, allowing him to slightly stretch out his 6’2’’ frame, something he learned after being rammed into by the seat in front of him twice.

Once the tail end of passengers from further back where past his row Itachi stood up, forgetting to watch his head clearance, which resulted in him hitting his head… hard. Today just wasn’t his day and he knew who to blame for his predicament.

This was all Sasuke’s fault.

______________________________________________________

The maids were running around making sure that everything was in its rightful place. Tea and coffee freshly brewed with sides of cream and sugar. Queen Mikoto Uchiha and King Fugaku Uchiha have been ruling side by side for over 30 years. Fugaku was young when he took the throne over, he had only been married a couple of years. However, with the sudden death of his father and mother the heavy burden fell onto him. His early years harden Fugaku and when his first son was born, Itachi, high expectations fell onto the heir to the throne. He insured that his son would be ready to take over for him and any point in his life. Lesser burden fell onto his second son, Sasuke, who arrived 8 years after Itachi.

“Did you see the news this morning? His Majesty is not going to be happy.” The maids were whispering to each other trying to keep their tone down to avoid being overheard if anyone from the royal family were to walk by.

And just like that Fugaku was marching down the hallway, Mikoto walking at a brisk pace to try catch up to him. “Fugaku what is going on that has you this upset?”

“Where is Sasuke? He has a lot of explaining to do.” Fugaku pulled out his phone and looked as if he wanted it to burst into flames.

“What is … Oh…Oh no.” Mikoto was reading her husband’s phone.

-Breaking news the youngest prince to the Konohagakure throne reportedly gets into fist fights with delegates from Suna. Is our alliance in danger. – The news article had a blurry picture of a group of men at one of the bars downtown.

Mikoto was hoping to give her youngest the benefit of a doubt, but she knew he had become reckless after starting university. He was developing the title of playboy and party animal. His grades were still passing, but not the expectations they had for him.

“Apparently our youngest decided to sneak out last night and get into a brawl at a club, instead of studying. I have already talked to Suna and the police. The delegate was also the King’s brother, he was with his sister visiting her boyfriend. This shows how much of a hot head this boy is. Sneaking out…fighting.” Fugaku was wanting to blow fire. He had to do calming breaths.

“Father what is going on?” Itachi entered the room, going over to make his coffee with yet again too many spoonfuls of sugar and cream. Always with the unimpressed expression.

Itachi was 26 years old and still hadn’t settled down. Sasuke idolized him, maybe if Itachi were to show more stability with getting married that would rub off. The wheels in Fugaku’s head started to spin, yes that was how he could smooth over things with Suna. Mikoto would be happy for the prospects of grandchildren anyway so wouldn’t be too opposed.

“It’s time you start setting a better example for your younger brother. What better show than having it be with the crowned prince, next in line for the throne with an arranged marriage.” Fugaku walked away ignoring the looks for both his wife and his son.

“What did I miss while I was sleeping?” Itachi did not like the sound of what his father just said. Itachi wasn’t too worried surely there was no way his father would really just arrange a marriage for his eldest son.

Mikoto went back to drinking her tea she had made while Fugaku was rambling on. In deep contemplation.

‘Grandbabies!’- images started going through Mikoto’s mind.

‘Father doesn’t mean it, nothing will come of this.’ Itachi sipped his sugar and cream, pinky in the air. Little did he know.

_______________________________________________________________________

Sand. Sand everywhere. Itachi had just stepped outside and a “mild” wind current picked up creating a “small” sandstorm, or what the locals called it Wednesday afternoon. By now his messages had caught up with being back on the ground. His parents were not happy that he disregarded safety protocols and left without bodyguards. He was worried that they would send a team to come get him. He was too focused to care: ene thing brought him to Suna, well not a thing, but a person. Who was the person? His soon to be wife.

Sakura Haruno. Daughter to the Duke and Duchess of Sunagakure. The Duke was known to be a kind man with a sharp mind and wit, which lead him to be one of the top advisors to the late king. His wife was no nonsense and known to be a hard ass. Apparently his mother had heard about their daughter from a mutual friend, Kushina Uzimaki. On one of the Marchioness’s visits to Suna it was lady Sakura who watched Naruto. The countess was taken by her kind nature and manors, she was also able to tame the young child. This was almost a decade ago and they were certain that given the Duchess’s no nonsense rules her daughter would be the epitome of a wallflower. She was named after a flower.

Itachi was not wanting a well mannered drone, who was after a title. While his father had his faults he had seen the love between his parents and he wanted that. His belief that a marriage should be for love and not duty was why he had yet to find the right person. He had also worked hard in university going into psychology and sociology to better understand how people ticked. Itachi wanted to be able to understand and help his people. This girl likely went for a useless degree and would be at her parents home waiting for the best title to come by.

However, Itachi was not having any luck on finding anything about Lady Sakura, she apparently didn’t have any social media presence. Itachi just had to roll his eyes, she probably had a hidden account so she wouldn’t get in trouble, like his younger brother. His younger brother’s account was not known to his parents, which may have to be remedied. Itachi could always blame Shisui.

Itachi would just have to put on the Uchiha charms to get where his “Intended” was. As he wondered the streets he noticed a bakery and couldn’t resist getting some dango. He would get some dango and inquire about Lady Sakura, easy as pie. ‘Great know I want pie too.’

“Good afternoon welcome to Desert’s Dessert Suna’s best bakery. What can I help you with today?” It was a young woman. She had sandy blond hair, light brown eyes, and average features. She looked about 20. As Itachi was deciding on how many sweets would be too many he noticed her starting to have a red tint over her cheeks. ‘Perfect’

“May I have two sticks of dango.” He would start just with the dango and maybe tomorrow get a different dessert, that sounded like a good plan. The girl started ringing up his order.

“I would love to know the name of the person helping me today in the best sweet shop.” Time to put on the charm, he slightly leaned into the counter keeping eye contact with the girl.

As he saw the blush deepen in color he knew it was working. “My name… its Mei. I haven’t seen you around before. Will you be here for long?” Like taking candy from the baby. Well in the this case he was getting candy, but it wasn’t from a baby.

Itachi let out a soft sigh. “ I’m not from here and actually here for work. I was hoping you would be able to help me.”

“What do you need help with.” His dango was now in a wax bag and he couldn’t wait to eat them.

“ Well I am doing a story on the different royals in the area and was wanting to know where I could find a Lady Sakura Haruno?” He hoped she bought the story idea, cause any other reason he could come up with was on the creepy side.

“Oh you’re doing a story on her. If you are wanting to talk to her today she is likely at the women’s shelter cause its Wednesday, she usually comes in to get pastries before heading there.” He wasn’t expecting her to say the woman’s shelter. ‘how odd.” He thought.

Itachi got the address of the shelter easily and said bye to Mei. He ignored her starry eyes and wistful look as he walked to the shelter, which was not too far from the shop. He found it easily and went into the shelter not caring to read the signs posted all over the door.

“No men allowed in the shelter. This is a safe place and you must leave. I will repeat myself one more time, sir. ” The receptionist looked like she was about to pick up the phone book.

“Anko what is going on?” Itachi was speechless as a young woman with pink hair entered the room. Her eyes could rival emeralds with their color, her hair looked like it fell between her shoulder blades, heart shaped face and body. Itachi couldn’t remark on her figure or clothes because as he was taking in the woman, he did not hear the shouts or see the phone book being thrown at his head.

Today was just not Itachi’s day as he fell to the ground.

_______________________________________________________________________

It was Wednesday morning. A day people often dreaded due to the midweek slump. However, for Sakura it was one of her favorite days. She woke up at 5 in the morning to get her morning run in before the heat of the day set in, then her shower. While in the shower her coffee maker started brewing her morning pot. She wrapped herself in her robe and towel around her hair as she left her bathroom. She always gave herself enough time in the morning to sit and have her coffee before the hustle and bustle of the day set in.

She warmed up her left over frittata from yesterday’s dinner as she prepared her coffee. Sakura sat down on her sofa and watched some of the morning news, nothing of note. Once she was done she pulled out the files she had put on her coffee table the night before. Her legs were crossed as she set to familiarize herself with their contents, coffee mug in her left hand of course.

One of the reasons Wednesday was her favorite day was that it meant she would be working in the Woman’s shelter. She had Anko, the secretary and keeper of the woman’s safety, compile the 5 main cases that needed Sakura’s assistance. Many of the woman were fleeing abusive relationships, some were married with children, some married, and others in relationships that didn’t know how to escape. The ones who needed immediate help had files sent to Sakura who would help with legal counsel.

Sakura grew up adored by both of her parents. They recognized at a young age how much she cared for others and wanted to help. She would get into fights trying to help younger kids that were bullied. After she came home beaten by some of the bullies, her parents enrolled her into karate lessons, which led her to her black belt. She then pursued a law degree. She was so studious when she was younger that most of the adults thought she was shy, but she only cared for working towards her goal. Her parents sent her to the public schools, they did not believe is separating her due to her status. It was one of the first times she saw how not everyone had the luxuries she had while growing up. It was when she got into high school and started volunteering did she know that it just wasn’t luxuries that some of her peers had to do without, but some had to do without the loving parents and a stable home.

She studied criminal justice and history in University. She was introduced to laws that held no benefit for those that they affected the most. History showed how the monarchy only cared for one thing, their continued legacy. Sakura graduated university and then went right into law school. 6 years was what it took her, others took at least 7. It was decided with her going to public school that Sakura would not be photographed or topics for the news. She also didn’t care for social media, seeing the dangers it held in society. Due to her anonymity she was able to forge her own path.

After graduating law school she went to work for one of the major Law firms in the country, but a stipulation in her contract was Wednesdays would be her day. Her first focus would be on the woman’s shelter and she had plans of extending to other causes. However, there was talk about getting her to settle down. Some of the older advisors to the King did not like that she held a normal job and interacted with the people so much. Sakura didn’t understand what the fuss was about, she was the daughter of a Duke, not a king. She had heard the talks that her parents were having with Konoha. Due to the youngest son’s behavior and punching Kankaro they wanted to do a grand gesture in support of Suna. Although Sakura was sure that he had the punch coming, he knew how to antagonize people.

Cases reviewed and coffee done Sakura set out to get ready for her day. Since she was in the shelter she kept her outfit simple. Dark skinny jeans, a simple T-shirt with a light sweater (the office was always cold), and her keds. She never cared to wear makeup during these visits and her hair would just be down. The goal wasn’t to look good, but to help.

As lunch time came around Sakura was starving. She had Anko order food for them and the woman of the shelter. Sadly she would be working through lunch as one of the cases became more complicated than she thought. She had gotten to the last woman for the day when she heard Anko yelling.

“No men allowed in the shelter.” By the time she heard Anko yell the no part, she was up on her feet apologizing to the woman she was talking with.

“Anko what is going on?” As he looked over to the door she couldn’t believe who she was seeing. His aura screamed respect me and she didn’t like the look of his face. Yes it was a handsome face, but it was the aristocratic features and having seen that face in headlines that, put a sour taste in her mouth. Before she could speak Anko had thrown a phone book at King Fugaku’s eldest son and he fell to the ground.

‘Oh shit, we are screwed’ was the only thing that came to her mind.

Itachi heard two woman’s voices as he came to. They stopped talking when he started to move. The receptionist glared at him, he felt like she knew her way around hiding a body or two. It was the other who drew his attention. She was slightly above average in height, possibly 5’6”, her curves were subtle from what he could see. He could not understand why he was paying attention to this woman.

“Don’t mind Anko she looks out for the woman of this shelter. We do not allow men in the shelter unless they have been screened and have a set appointment. Why have you come to this shelter? While you have long hair that any woman would envy and would make a beautiful woman, you are still a male.” Itachi took slight offense to him having feminine features.

“I’m looking for a Lady Sakura Haruno. The journal I work for has been hired to do a story on her.” Time to put on the charms again. Itachi was doubtful they would work on the one called Anko, but this other would should be an easy target.

“You’re looking for Lady Haruno, why don’t you come into my office and I can tell you about her. Sadly there is no “Lady” here.” The petal haired woman led him into a small office that didn’t have any windows and smelled like old carpet, it was 50 shades of dirt.

“Thank you for your assistance.” Due to her being in front of him he didn’t see her roll his eyes as they went to her office.

Before he could get another word in the woman spoke. “ I think a more interesting story would be why the crown prince of Konoha would be in Suna claiming to do a story about Lady Sakura when there hasn’t been any palace approval?” The woman had sat down at the desk, her face propped on her hands and she leaned forward.

Itachi wasn’t expecting this. “I…uh..” he couldn’t believe he was stammering.

“ Lets get this straight. I have heard about what your brother has done and how they are talking about an arranged marriage. However, I want this to be known. You are nothing more than a tourist attraction for people to gawk at. What do you know about the lives of those that fall under your families care?” Itachi’s mouth fell open, he felt like a gawking fish. Well in his mind his mouth fell open, on the outside he looked indifferent.

“No response? Aren’t you supposed to have a silver tongue? Since you want to know about me I’ll tell you something. I went to law school to help defend the people in my country. My parents instilled in me that my blood runs red when I bleed. I’m no better than anyone else around me. I was placed in public education, volunteered in the slums. Have you been to the poorest parts of your country prince?” Itachi could hear the venom with how she said prince.

“Again no response. Well I’ll leave you with this what better way to say screw it to the man than be able to know the laws, know how to break them, and when they can’t be broken how to twist them. You can go now. I’m sure you will tell your parent’s that I am not suited to be your wife, so I will never see you again.”

Sakura went back to working on her files. Itachi stood there speechless. She wasn’t after the title. She wanted to care for the people in her country and went further in school than he did, but above all else she had a backbone. From what he saw it must be made of diamonds. A new kind of determination set in.

“It looks like it is 7pm, have you had dinner yet?” Sakura looked up eyebrow raised. “Huh”

“Look who has no response know.” Sakura wanted to wipe the smirk off his handsome face. As she went to open her mouth in reply, Itachi had grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

“Do you need to grab your bag or do anything before dinner? I hope you know of a good place to eat.” Itachi couldn’t help but pay attention to how her hand fit perfectly into his. Sakura also took note of this. Before she knew it her cheeks were tinged and she got a fuzzy feeling in her stomach. Itachi didn’t want to point out the blush.

“I guess dinner won’t hurt. Lets get this over with.”

Sakura led Itachi out of the building and down to one of her favorite tempura places. They ate there till it closed for the night. He wasn’t just a prince with a pretty face, which she was quick to judge. He wanted to understand the people who would govern. He wanted to prevent the injustice that many faced. He was also adorably awkward during the whole dinner. Itachi told her about his little brother and his older cousin. Sakura told him about her best friend Ino and having to care for the holy terror Naruto when she was younger. Both enjoyed trivia, sweets, and puzzles.

By the time they separated they decided to share numbers. Over the weeks of negotiation it was agreed on that they would be married. Their parents did not know about how much they had grown together over those weeks, well his at least.

“Sasuke sit up straight.” Sasuke did as he was told. “ We will be meeting Itachi’s future wife you will need to make a good impression. I heard she can be on the shy side, especially when she was little. I don’t need you scaring her away due to your lack of manners. ” Sasuke had his typical scowl on his face.

Itachi stood to the side with a smirk on his face. Shy, Sakura was not. He couldn’t wait for them to see her in person again. They will certainly be a shock to the palace, and just because of her pink hair.

Her name was announced and he couldn’t help but lovingly gaze upon his future wife. He then looked to his brother, since this was all his fault.

#itasaku #itachi x sakura #Sakura Haruno #itachi uchiha #naruto #fanfic #oneshot #gift exchange

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