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#did he dry out so badly his eyes retracted into his head
canisalbus · 3 months
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That juice box ask is so right. Machete will definitely shrivel into dust if he does not have his daily H2O intake.
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sisitrip · 9 months
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For the @gallavichthings event A.U.gust 2023 prompt "Cyberpunk", I offer "B8ted Breath."
Thank you @gallavichthings and the people behind that tag for hosting! I don't know what this is, but whatever it does turn out to be, I had fun.
Housekeeping:
Funerarium - Funeral Home
Gravecodes - Condensed data containing video/audio of the deceased that can only be viewed in my dystopian funerarium.
Rig-mech - A terraforming machine technician who works on rigs used to make inhabitable outposts, habitable.
_____________________
Ian heads into the funerarium’s Reflection Room, a glass encased dome filled with fake flowers and a dry fountain sitting in the middle of its large space. He’s made coming here a habit after a gravecode visit. A sort of cherry on the morbid cake of his self flagellation. 
He takes a seat on the ring of the fountain and pulls out a small, collapsible metal cup and a mini carton of milk. As always, he feels dumb doing this, but it comforts him after a rough viewing.
He’s pouring the milk into the cup when a B8 CL-WS unit glides noiselessly into the room. Boxy and sitting atop soundless rubber wheels, it rolls around cleaning non-existent dust off the floor. He smiles, thinking not for the first time that this particular cleaning unit looks a little like a robotic military tank.  
“Shit,” he curses softly as he overflows his cup and it spills on the floor. The B8 immediately makes a beeline for him. He lifts his feet as the unit’s small, microfiber pad swipes through the liquid then blows heated air to dry what's left. 
He laughs knowing he must look ridiculous with his feet hanging above the floor and his dumb collapsible cup raised in an awkward toast. The unit goes on blowing warm air, unmoving. This is the longest wipe and dry he’s ever seen. He couldn’t have spilled that much. 
“Uh, I think it’s dry now,” he says. 
The B8 just continues blowing air and he can feel it sliding uncomfortably up his pant legs. Great. It’s malfunctioning.
“Area sanitized. Retract.” 
The unit doesn’t move.
“Um, retract,” he tries again, legs starting to ache in their raised position. “C’mon, retract dopey.”
Nothing. 
Ian notices the code on the unit’s exterior has been altered. An ‘A’ has been scratched over the dash between the CL and WS. Despite his irritation, he laughs. It’s probably been done before, but for some reason, seeing that silly CLAWS etched into this broken cleaning unit is what he’d needed. 
“Claws my ass, you box of junk. I should give you a kick,” he chuckles. 
“I wouldn’t do that. She's been retrofitted with a mini-flame thrower.”
The voice startles him so badly, he falls backward into the fountain, cup flying. He bounces his head off an ornate cherub and sees stars.
“Jesus fuck!” he shouts, flailing as he tries to get out of the fountain without kicking the stupid B8 unit that was now whizzing back and forth over the newly spilled mess. 
A hand braces itself on the rim of the fountain, bearing faded knuckle tattoos that spelled “FUCK.” He stares at it dizzily, fascinated by how menacing that hand looked despite its small size. 
“If you’re thinking of taking a bath in this thing, it ain’t gonna happen, Cherry.”
A man, sporting a black military cap atop longish dark locks, peers down at Ian with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen this close. The looming man’s expression was equal parts amused and irritated as he held out his other hand.
Ian takes it and lets himself be hauled to his feet to properly look at his rescuer. This man was no more than 5’7” with a small, but compact frame and not the hulking menace he thought he was. Not usually Ian’s type, but those eyes. They were something. 
He stares a little too long and the man snaps his fingers in front of his face. 
“How hard did you ring your bell, man?” 
Caught without an excuse for gazing longingly, Ian's face warms.
“That thing almost burned the hairs off my legs,” he complains, reaching down for his cup only to have the B8 snag it with a hook and toss it into a compartment on its back. “For Christ’s sake!”
The man rubs a finger across his ridiculously kissable mouth, chuckling quietly. Despite his irritation, Ian finds himself fighting an answering smile. 
“The fuck you expect a cleaning unit to do?” the man scolds. “You drop shit, it picks it up.” 
Ian rubs the small lump that’s starting to swell on the back of his head, anger flaring at the less than contrite attitude. 
“I didn’t drop a damn thing. It flew out of my hand when you ninja'd out of thin air.” He glares at the man, noting his uniform, an all black jumpsuit bearing the name of the facility. “You work for Obriad?”
“That’s what the jumpsuit says.” 
The man leans down, presses a series of buttons on the underside of the B8 and it takes off, zooming away towards a black door partially obscured by two huge, fake palms. The unit stops at the door, waiting patiently, like a dog. 
“Then you might want to take that unit out of commission until it can be repaired,” Ian suggests, drinking the milk and taking in the tattoos on the man’s other hand. He snorts. Fuck U-Up. This one's a walking, talking poet. 
“There’s nothing wrong with that B8. You spilled milk and it kept cleaning until it was dry. No use crying about it,” the man says, as if he's addressing a child. 
Angry and at a loss for words, Ian drains the milk, taking in the man’s half smile that could be flirtatious or condescending. It feels like both. He regroups.
“I'm not going to argue about a faulty B8. Just try not to have it burn the hair off anyone else’s legs.” 
He turns to walk away and is stopped by the snottiest intonation he’s ever heard. 
“Sir, yes sir. Obriad extends its sincerest apologies, Mr. ...?” 
Ian allows himself a quick grin before turning to look haughtily over his shoulder. Yeah, that smile he’d been confused about earlier? Definitely flirty.
“Gallagher. And you’re …?” 
“Devastated by your displeasure.” 
Ian laughs and that seems to please this exasperating man who continues. 
“It's Milkovich. I run operations here and rest assured, your leg hair will be safe from now on.” 
Ian gets a smile that eclipses every light in the room. Hell.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks, Mr. Milkovich.” 
He gives a short, weird wave, suddenly unsure of how his hands work. Neck burning, he walks quickly to the e-lifts, silently cursing his inability to ever play it cool.
“It's Mickey.” 
The softly called name reaches him at the doorway of the Reflection Room. He turns and Mickey is walking backwards toward that palm framed door, hands in his pockets. Ian considers for less than a second before offering his own name.
“Ian.”
Mickey touches the bridge of his cap and salutes him in an exaggerated farewell worthy of a sultan. Ian huffs a soft laugh and heads to the e-lift. After depressing his thumb to the location pad, it opens. 
He spends the quick descent and vertical shifts to his transport thinking about how Mickey seemed less like a funerarium operations director and more like a rig-mech. Gruff and teasing, his demeanor was better suited for that kind of rough outpost work. Ian should know. He'd bedded more than a few of them. 
The transport calculates the best route home and it's only halfway there that he realizes he's left his cup. He tells himself that he has to remember to ask Mickey for it on his next visit. It was everyone's duty to keep waste to a minimum, right? Retrieving a perfectly usable cup was the responsible thing to do. Honor demands it.
He looks at his reflection in the impenetrable plexishield of the window and the smile he wears is unique if for no other reason than it's a first on many levels. 
It's the first time he's smiled in months. The first time he's smiled in this stupid transport he'd inherited from Monica. 
More importantly, it's the first time he's ever smiled after a gravecode viewing. 
He stares unseeing at the dry, rundown landscape of the approaching outpost and can't decide if this development is a good thing or cause for concern.
He shrugs. It doesn't matter. It feels good and that’s so rare for him, he savors it. 
Maybe finding something to smile about in a funerarium is sacrilege. Maybe it’s not.
Whatever it is, he’ll be back next month if only to see those blue eyes again.
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The Fourth Wall by TheAuthor5263
Anime » Boruto: Naruto Next Generations Rated: T, English, Adventure & Romance, [Boruto U., Sarada U.] Mitsuki, Words: 16k+, Favs: 1, Follows: 1, Published: Aug 29 Updated: Sep 28
Chapter 5
"Suzuno-kun is done taking pictures of the waterfall," Sarada announced, deactivating her sharingan.
Suzuno's hand was loosely attached to her vest, his figure hiding slightly behind her as they approached Boruto and Mitsuki. "Is it true that shinobi can walk on water?" Suzuno asked suddenly, making Boruto's eyes narrow.
Mitsuki nodded his head. "Would you like to see a demonstration?"
"I-If that's alright," Suzuno said shyly. "If not, we can go eat…"
Sarada gently removed herself from Suzuno's grasp and put a hand on Boruto's shoulder. "Boruto, I think you should show him."
At the mention of Boruto's name, Suzuno cowered further behind Sarada.
"I told you it's ok," she said softly, "if he tries to hurt you, I'll throw a shuriken at him to stop him."
"H-hey! That's not funny, I could die!"
Sarada raised an eyebrow. "You won't die."
At first, Boruto thought she was bragging about how good her aim was. But then he remembered. Even if they did die, it wasn't of any benefit to Hebi, so they would essentially get revived.
He looked up at Sarada wide eyed and slowly clenched his fist. "Got it… I'll go demonstrate walking on water. Suzuno, make sure you get lots of pictures!"
With that, Boruto dashed out onto the water's surface and stood with his eyes closed. He wasn't going to be manipulated again.
Suzuno took one last hesitant look at Sarada and Mitsuki before heading over to edge of the water. But as he raised his camera, he weaved signs with his hand. His mouth silently formed the words, "five feeding sharks," as he pressed his palm to the water.
To Sarada and Mitsuki, it simply looked like Suzuno was crouched down, taking pictures of Boruto running around.
What they couldn't see was the devilish grin on Suzuno's face and the sharks that were attacking Boruto.
He dodged as two sharks came up from the surface on opposite sides, narrowly avoiding their jaws. "Oi oi, this isn't funny! How am I supposed to beat five of these things alone?!"
A third shark swam up behind him and jumped, looking to devour his head. He quickly charged his palm with swirling chakra and thrust it towards the bloodthirsty creature. "Rasengan!"
But the shark's mouth came up and over his hand, about to devour him whole.
Just as three rows of sharp pointy teeth entered Boruto's line of sight, the shark was blasted backwards. "Shaaannnarooo!"
"Sarada!"
"Boruto, get out of the water!"
Boruto dashed forward. The moment his feet touched dry ground, he looked up to find Mitsuki restraining Suzuno with his arms. Knowing Sarada was airborne and likely getting attacked by sharks, he made the best call he could.
"Mitsuki! Switch!"
Mitsuki's long snake-like arms let go of Suzuno and reached out towards Sarada to pull her away. Just as Boruto was about to tackle Suzuno to the ground, he heard a bloodcurdling scream behind him. Mitsuki retracted his arms, or what was left of them.
Boruto's heart wrenched in his chest, but part of him suspected genjutsu was at play. Rather than turning around to check on the status of his likely injured teammates, he tackled Suzuno to the ground and pinned his arms behind his back. "You're not going anywhere."
"Hah," said Suzuno, turning his head to the side. "Do you think I used genjutsu on you again? This time your friend's scream was real. I guess this is the limit of Konoha's genin… All they can do is throw shuriken."
Boruto restrained both of Suzuno's hands with one arm while the other shoved his head into the ground. "You little… Make it stop, now."
"Why don't you turn around? It's already too late. She's dead, and your other friend is too injured to fight."
Boruto had never wanted to kill anyone so badly. He pulled a kunai out of his pouch and held it up to Suzuno's eyes. "What makes you think I'd turn around? I'd much rather put an end to you."
He smirked. "I'm just a traveling artist. You're the psycho who tried to kill me. Whose story do you think they'll believe?"
Boruto smirked. "You made a big mistake there. My name is Uzumaki Boruto. I'm the hokage's son. He'll believe my word over yours any day."
"Even if he sees me looking like a beaten and bloody mess, and you come out without a scratch?"
"What are you…"
"Kai!"
Boruto blinked. He was sitting on top of a log, holding it at knife point.
"That little… Where'd he…"
Boruto turned around. The sharks were swimming in a pool of blood. Mitsuki was next to him, panting, his kimono bloodstained at the arms. "Mitsuki…"
"Boruto!"
"Konohamaru nii-chan..?"
The author began typing hurriedly into their laptop. Looks like it was a mistake to walk away. I'm not dealing with someone on my side. Emerging from the tree in human form, a dome of feathers swirled around Konohamaru and Mitsuki, knocking both of them out. I guess ninjutsu in the game still applies… thank goodness for that. If Suzuno's appearance was an event in the actual story, they couldn't tamper with it. But killing off a main character and leaving the other severely injured wasn't within the jurisdiction allowed to the anime, so it shouldn't have happened naturally in the shadow. That being said… "You really are an idiot."
"Hebi-san?"
"Take a good look."
Boruto looked around. "Sarada… Where's Sarada?!"
"I wish you wouldn't take my power so lightly. What if I was lying to you?"
He got up onto his knees, scrambling towards the water's surface. And the sight he saw brought all of his stomach contents hurling from his mouth.
"You're lucky I came when I did," replied the author, typing another line of text into the laptop. "a few seconds more and... You really should be more careful."
Boruto caught his breath, wiping his mouth as his body trembled. "B-but Sarada has Sharingan," he said, choking back tears, his head tilting downward. "I… I thought she would be ok…"
"Sharingan vs four bloodthirsty water sharks? While she was airborne?"
His fists curled around the grass on the riverbank. "But Mitsuki could have used lightning jutsu on the water and…"
"Do you think he could use it when it appeared that Suzuno-kun was desperately rushing towards the water to save Sarada? And what were you doing? Attacking a log. Mitsuki got his arms bitten off before he reached her. No one was sure if Suzuno was the genjutsu user besides you, and for a civilian like him, a lightning strike could be deadly. What would become of the mission if Mitsuki killed Suzuno to save Sarada?"
Boruto punched the ground in defeat. He looked over and watched as Mitsuki's arms regenerated.
"This is your warning. Don't act so carefree as to let her die without even attempting to save her. Or I might not be able to revive her."
Boruto froze. "…What do you mean?"
The author sighed. "It looks like there's more than one of me here… Listen to me very carefully. From now on, there might be others from my dimension targeting your lives in attempt to ruin the mission. I can only act from things concerning your perspective… So if you don't see Sarada die, and she gets taken away somewhere and then killed, I won't be able to do anything about it."
"…What?" Looking down at his trembling hand, tried to make sense of what Hebi had said.
"Keep your eyes on her. Whenever possible. As long as you are looking, I will know what is happening, and I can come save you… Preferably before other people get involved. Genjutsu can only help so much in situations like this… I hesitated to say this before, but the less people that know about me, the safer you are."
The author paused as they watched Boruto's face darken, his body trembling more with each word that they spoke. I'd better explain this later… "Your mission is being put on hold for the time being," said the author, typing into their laptop. "For now… This is the best I can do."
Boruto turned his head and saw Sarada resting peacefully in the grass behind him. The tension in his body depleted as his eyes searched her to make sure she was in one piece. Lip quivering as his memory of the previous scene flashed to the surface again, he slowly pulled her up into his arms and held her against him, his entire body shivering in disbelief that she was really alive. All he wanted to do was cry. His heart felt like it was going to leap out of his throat along with his intestines.
But as he began to register her soft breathing and the feeling of her pulse against his arm, his own heartrate slowed. The sobs that were working their way up into his throat turned into silent tears.
The feeling of anger slowly bubbled up in his chest at the thought of the small boy that had been clinging to Sarada's vest only moments before. "What about Suzuno?" His voice crackled out from his throat, the leftover stomach acid threatening to burn through the lining of his esophagus.
"I am assuming that he was an assassin sent by one of my people… Fortunately, his identity remained unknown to anyone other than your father. I will disguise myself and inform Naruto of Suzuno's return to Amegakure… After I turn the river clear again."
"What about Konohamaru nii-chan? Why did he come?"
The author sighed. "It seems like he finished Naruto's errand and came to check on you. Luckily, I was able to stop the story before he saw anything graphic... He did see the blood on Mitsuki's Kimono, but don't worry. I'll replace them with cuts that will heal easily and blame this on a bandit."
"I see…" Boruto was silent, fresh tears still falling down his cheeks, his expression grey and dim as he gently laid Sarada back onto the ground. "Thanks."
The author couldn't help but watch in silent agony as Boruto's eyes drifted over her shoulders again and again. "…I wouldn't leave her alone too often if I were you. While it may have seemed like Suzuno was targeting you at first, I wouldn't be surprised if his real goal was her… And if you keep an eye on her, it will be easier for me to put a stop to my people."
The moment that Boruto relinquished his physical contact with her, his face contorted with grief. But he slowly nodded his acceptance. "…Why didn't you stop this before?"
"I may be all powerful, but I'm not omnipresent. It was my mistake, leaving you alone to investigate the possibility of one of my people entering this world…" The author averted their eyes. "Our paths rarely cross. It seems I chose an unlucky time to enter… But fear not, I will do everything in my power to hold them back."
Boruto's eyes drifted over to Mitsuki. "You can't just write them out of existence?"
"Unfortunately, no. They hold just as much power as I do… But it would help if I discovered their goal." And their chosen character, the author added mentally. "I'll take my leave now… But you may see me more often than I was hoping to appear."
Why? His fingers tangled into the blades of grass as he clenched them into fists. Why couldn't I save them? Why didn't I turn around? Why did she have to…
Forcing his mind to deregister the scene he had previously witnessed, he gently uncurled his palms. For someone who's so adamite about becoming hokage… You can't die this easily…
The author sighed from their hiding place. They pulled out their laptop and typed in a few lines of text. I guess I'll do him a favor and wake her up first… The poor kid needs someone to help him cry.
Sarada's eyes slowly blinked open, barely registering the blonde hair and blue eyes that belonged to the individual in front of her. "Boruto?"
At the sound of her voice, his blue eyes widened, a single tear dripping off the bottom of his eyelid. "…Sarada?" His voice still felt hoarse, the tightness in his throat depleting but still present.
"What happened? Where's Suzuno-kun?"
The moment she sat up, an audible sob worked its way into Boruto's throat. "I'm sorry," he cried, relief washing over him as he pulled her against him, his head burrowing into her shoulder.
"B-Boruto? Why are you sorry? What happened? Where is… Is that Konohamaru? Why does he look…"
But as Sarada talked, she realized Boruto was shaking. Not just his hands, his entire upper body was quivering. Her expression softened as she slowly returned his hug. "Are you ok?"
Despite the answer to that question obviously being no, Boruto managed a crumpled smile. He slowly relaxed, pulling back and letting his hands fall into the grass. "I'm an idiot," he mumbled, forcing himself to confirm her existence was real.
Sarada dropped her arms to her side, slightly bewildered at the pitiful expression on his face. Taking a handkerchief out of a hidden pocket in her vest, she offered it to him. "I think I knew that already."
He laughed through his pained expression. "Thanks."
"So," she began, watching him wipe his eyes. "Why are you crying?"
Pulling his knees out from under him, Boruto stood to his feet and pocketed her handkerchief. "Sarada."
"Hmm?"
"You'd better become the hokage."
"Huh? Of course I'm going to become the hokage." She stood next to him, her eyes filled with concern as he looked off into the distance.
"Good. Then there's nothing to worry about."
"Boruto?"
The breeze stung Boruto's wet eyes as he scanned the area for Hebi, putting aside the matter with Sarada. He didn't want to relive it. She was alive, that was all that mattered. As he looked around, he noticed Mitsuki's yellow eyes cracking open. "Mitsuki!"
"Boruto?" Mitsuki put his hand up to his head, pulling himself into a sitting position. "What happened?"
"Mitsuki! Your arms!" Sarada's eyes fell on the bloodstained kimono.
He looked down and furrowed his eyebrows, letting the sleeves fall up to reveal two small cuts. "This is nothing. It doesn't even hurt… And it seems like the bleeding stopped."
"Hebi healed you up a little bit," replied Boruto. "That creep Suzuno turned out to be an assassin… Looks like he was targeting our lives."
Sarada's eyes widened. "What happened to Suzuno?"
"He got eaten by his own sharks…"
Sarada eyed Boruto suspiciously. She put her hand up to her mouth as her gaze shifted towards the grass, deep in thought. Then her eyes widened. "Stupid Boruto."
But Boruto didn't hear her.
"Konohamaru-sensei?" Mitsuki peered in the direction of their teacher. "Is he… asleep?"
"Hebi was here until a little bit ago," said Boruto, "It seems like there's more than one of those weirdos. Lucky for us, we have Hebi as an ally… Mitsuki, what do you remember about earlier?"
He furrowed his eyebrows and thought. "Sarada released me from genjutsu, and I was holding Suzuno back… Everything after that is fuzzy. What happened?"
"I…" Boruto hesitated. He looked down, fingernails digging into his palms.
Sarada gently put a hand on his shoulder and stepped in front of him. "It seems like it's better that we don't know."
"Ahh…"
"Konohamaru shouldn't know much about what was going on," Boruto managed to say, "but I think Hebi's going to do something. So don't mention any of the details until he does."
In that moment, Konohamaru woke up. "Kids! Are you ok?"
"Konohamaru-sensei!"
"Oh! Kids. I'm glad you're alright."
"Konohamaru nii-chan, what happened?"
"Ah, well," he began, his hand scratching the back of his neck. "Boruto, you were under some sort of genjutsu attacking a log… Then some kid used a sleeping gas to put us all to sleep…"
Mitsuki turned to Boruto and smiled. "Attacking a log. As expected of the son of the seventh hokage."
"Mitsuki!"
"He was under genjutsu," said Konohamaru with a chuckle. "It couldn't be helped." Standing to his feet, Konohamaru stood triumphantly with his hands on his hips. "Well, I guess I'd better go report this to the seventh… You all should go home and get some rest."
Boruto agreed. "It's getting late… I bet mom's dinner by now." Not that I have an appetite to eat it, he added mentally.
"Ah!" Sarada dropped her fist into the palm of her hand. "I forgot, mom is working late at the hospital tonight! I have to make dinner…"
"I should get my arms checked out, just in case," replied Mitsuki, getting up off of the ground.
Boruto watched Sarada's back, his heart beginning to race in panic. Hebi said I shouldn't leave her alone… If she goes home right now, there won't be anyone there… What should I… "Ah!"
The three turned to him.
"Ahhhhahaha," he began laughing. "I just remembered something. You guys go on ahead!"
Konohamaru raised an eyebrow. "Boruto, are you feeling ok?"
"Of course," he laughed nervously, "never better."
"…Right…"
"Mitsuki, I'll walk with you to the hospital on my way to the seventh's office. Boruto, make sure Sarada gets home in one piece. Keep an eye out for any more bandits."
"…Ok."
Once they were out of range of hearing, Sarada folded her arms. "So? What did you just remember?"
Boruto looked off to the side. "…Since my stupid old man never comes home for dinner and eats cup ramen in his office, but my mom always makes enough for him anyway, and your mom isn't coming home until late…"
Sarada blinked a few times. "Boruto… Are you… Inviting me over for dinner?!"
"Ah! Forget it. It's nothing." She'll be fine on her own, thought Boruto, his face burning with embarrassment and regret. "Go make your stupid dinner."
She shook her head. "Actually, I feel really exhausted for some reason. I'd love some of Hinata oba-san's cooking right about now… I can make mom something else when I get home." She giggled. "To think the day would come when you would be considerate."
Boruto clicked his tongue and walked behind her, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. "This is a special circumstance. Don't count on it happening again."
"Yeah yeah," she retorted, a smile on her face nonetheless.
The Fourth Wall by TheAuthor5263
Anime » Boruto: Naruto Next Generations Rated: T, English, Adventure & Romance, [Boruto U., Sarada U.] Mitsuki, Words: 16k+, Favs: 1, Follows: 1, Published: Aug 29 Updated: Sep 28
Chapter 6: Bonus Chapter
The author snuck through the town, keeping an eye out for any suspicious characters. It was nearly impossible to spot another author who didn't want to be seen, but they had to begin taking precautions now before unprecedented interference rendered the story incapable of continuing.
Thanking the heavens that Boruto was the only one who saw Sarada's death, the author began to think back on all of the regulations assigned by the organization.
Authors were essentially all powerful in the world of their choosing. There were only a few rules they had to abide by if they wanted to stay in the cannon world:
First, and most obvious, they weren't allowed to let the characters know that they were in a story.
Second, they weren't allowed to directly manipulate the character's speech, emotions, abilities, or actions by entering text into the laptops. The use of different jutsu to accomplish these manipulations was however allowed.
Third, they couldn't create new characters. After all, they were given the freedom to use every jutsu in the narutoverse and give missions to any existing person, whether they were known in the anime or not.
Fourth, they weren't allowed to conjure up things from other worlds.
Fifth, they had to act within the shadow of the anime. If an anime episode began to air while the story was going on, the characters would lose their memory.
Sixth, any injuries could be healed with the use of medical ninjutsu, but authors were given special permission to heal especially large wounds under one condition: the injury had to be seen by the main character.
Seventh, to prevent stories from getting out of hand, each author was only permitted three revives per story. If the death was seen by anyone who didn't know of the author's power, they would stay dead to prevent inconsistency in the plot.
And finally, if their chosen main character died, they would have to restart.
Violation of any of these rules resulted in an alternate universe being created for the author to play with freely. But in that case, the author had to manipulate everything. Every line, every emotion, every action, every setting. All of it had to be written out line by line.
As long as the rules were followed, the text automatically generated on the screen in accordance with the main character's perspective: the character who was given the mission. Any other perspectives or thoughts had to be handwritten by the author, but the use of jutsu to peer into minds was permitted.
From the looks of it, the other author had gone all the way to Amegakure to give an assassin a mission for the sole purpose of stopping the story. The author's job was to figure out why. Boruto's actions so far may have revealed the purpose of the mission, but Amegakure was an 18-hour trip. The timing didn't line up. Unless, of course, they threw the character into a space-time portal… But who would willingly follow a stranger into a space time portal and take an assassin mission for the son of a leader of another land? And why would the other author come all the way back, only to throw a single kunai? Why didn't they just try to kill Boruto when they had the chance? Were there multiple authors in opposition?
The author sighed. There were too many unanswered questions. The dangers of the troublemakers were well known to authors, but stories continued to be written despite it all.
Treasuring what little time they had left before the characters fell asleep, the author decided to pay a visit to the hokage disguised as Sasuke. Someone needed to volunteer to take care of the "kid" that had been reported earlier that day, and it couldn't be assigned to another team as a mission, since they didn't actually exist. They also had to make sure Naruto wasn't going to be home for dinner.
The Fourth Wall by TheAuthor5263
Anime » Boruto: Naruto Next Generations Rated: T, English, Adventure & Romance, [Boruto U., Sarada U.] Mitsuki, Words: 16k+, Favs: 1, Follows: 1, Published: Aug 29 Updated: Sep 28
Chapter 6
Boruto listened to Sarada lecturing him about how great the hokage was the entire way to his house. Thanks to her reminding him that he did in fact find her annoying and snobby most of the time, his appetite came back.
"I'm home," Boruto announced as he opened the door, taking off his shoes in the doorway.
"Ah! Onii-chan!"
"Yo, Himawari!" Boruto smiled at his little sister, but rather than smiling back, Himawari's eyes widened at the visitor behind him.
"Sarada-chan!"
"Pardon the intrusion," she said, taking off her sandals and smiling at the blue-eyed girl.
She stared up at Sarada excitedly. "Sarada-chan, are you staying for dinner?"
"If you don't mind having me." She followed Boruto into the kitchen, Himawari at her side.
"It's almost ready, so just wait a little bit."
Sarada smiled. "I'll do what I can to help."
Boruto yawned, flopping himself down onto the couch and picking up his portable gaming device. It had been a while since his last visit to Dr. Katasuke since the whole scientific ninja tool scam during the chunin exams, but he still had a few games left to beat. And what better way to kill time before dinner than to play video games? Completely ignoring the conversation in the kitchen, he absorbed himself into gathering materials to beat the next boss.
"Ah dang it!" As the game over screen flashed into his vision, he sunk back into the chair. Was this boss even possible to clear without cheats? When he looked up, he noticed Sarada helping Himawari set the table. Maybe she doesn't know what else to do and is just busying herself, he thought, pressing the continue button.
"Onii-chan, dinner's ready!"
Boruto sighed. "Coming."
He sat down at the table and sniffed. "Smells great! What are we eating?"
"Tonight is pork-cutlet. There's extra, so feel free to take some home to your mom, Sarada-chan," Hinata said with a gentle smile.
"You're a life saver," replied Sarada, putting her hands together in front of her face.
"Ittadakkimaas!" Everyone said in unison before digging into the delicious meal.
"Hm?"
"Boruto, what's wrong?"
"Ah," he said, swallowing, "I was just thinking. This salad dressing tastes different than usual. Did you put something else in it mom? It's really good."
Hinata smiled. "I actually had Sarada-chan make that."
He blinked a few times.
"Onii-chan, this is the first time you've said someone's cooking tasted better than mom's!"
Boruto slumped down into his chair. "I take it back. Mom's is better."
"Onii-chan, lying isn't good!"
"I'm serious!"
Sarada just laughed. "It's mirin instead of vinegar. I like mine sweeter, so I asked if I could change it, but that's the only difference. You must really like your mom's cooking to notice."
"Of course I do," responded Boruto, his mouth full of rice. "No one cooks better than—"
"Boruto," said Hinata, her byakugan activating. "Swallow before you talk."
He gulped. "Yes ma'am."
The rest of dinner went by with lots of laughter, chewing, and most importantly, Boruto swallowing before he talked. When everyone was done, they all took their plates to the sink, and Boruto returned to his game.
Sarada eyed him from the kitchen with a judgmental glance. "Does he ever help with the dishes?"
Hinata couldn't help but giggle as scrubbed the sauce stains off of a plate. "I do them most days, but if I'm out with Himawari, he takes care of everything. He may not look like it, but he's surprisingly reliable when it counts. His manners, on the other hand, could use some work," she said, eyeing his bare feet propped up on the living room table.
"Hmm, that's surprising…" Sarada took the plate and dried it off with a towel. "These go… in this cabinet, right?"
Hinata smiled. "You remembered. Thank you for helping me, Sarada-chan."
"It's the least I can do for suddenly coming over and eating dinner…"
"Please, come over more often. It's rare that Boruto stays in the living room after a meal," she said, rinsing off a glass. "I have to give you a compliment on your salad dressing too. Maybe I'll start making salad dressing like that from now on."
Sarada's cheeks dusted with blush at the praise as she took the glass and put it away in the proper cabinet. "I just changed one ingredient…"
"But Boruto noticed and complimented you," she said, washing off the chopsticks with a gentle expression. "Even if he didn't want to admit it."
As Sarada finished putting the last of the chopsticks away, Hinata began wiping the counters. "Thank you for bringing Boruto home," she said, pausing with her hand clutched to her chest. "I don't know what happened, but it seems like this was his way of thanking you for something."
Sarada blinked. "…I think you have the wrong idea," she stuttered, "I didn't bring him home, he actually…"
Hinata shook her head and returned to the counter. "He was crying, wasn't he?"
"…Ah ha… well…"
"If he brought you home, you must have comforted him. Boruto is usually the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve… but he also keeps important things buried and covers them with confidence and pranks. Despite his appearances, I think he relies on you a lot, Sarada-chan. Just like Naruto-kun did with Sasuke-kun and Sakura-chan…"
Sarada slowly brought her hand to her chest. Boruto… relies on me?
"Oi, Sarada," called Boruto from the living room. "What time is your mom getting home?"
Sarada looked at the clock. "Ah! She'll be home any minute. I should go. Thank you for dinner!"
Himawari dashed up to her, holding out a prepared bento box full of leftovers. "Don't forget to take this with you!"
"Thanks, Hima!"
Boruto hopped up off the couch. "I'll take you home."
Sarada froze. "You're… walking me home?"
"…Yeah?"
Himawari bounded up to Boruto. "You're walking her home?"
Boruto hid his face in the collar of his jacket. "It's late…"
"Mmm? You don't walk Mitsuki or Shikadai home."
"Hiimaawaariii…."
Himawari knew that tone of voice. She tried to dodge, but soon, fits of giggles erupted from her stomach. "Stop! Stop, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
"This is what you get for teasing me all day."
"Onii-chan stop," she begged, tears of laughter rolling down her face as Boruto tickled her.
"Take that. And that!"
But as soon as the sound of the front door opening registered in Boruto's ears, he stopped tickling his little sister and ran to put on his shoes. "Oi, I said I was walking you home!"
"Why? I don't need you to walk me home."
"That's not—" Boruto cut himself off and sighed. "You really are a pain sometimes, you know that?"
"I'm also stronger than you."
Boruto's eyebrows furrowed, remembering how she was overpowered by four sharks in mere seconds. "Just because you can beat me in an arm wrestle doesn't make you invincible, ya know."
"So," asked Sarada once they were outside the fence that enclosed Boruto's house, "why'd you really want to walk me home? If you insist that it's to protect me, I'll fight you to remind you that I don't need you to watch me like a guard."
Taking a deep breath in, Boruto unclenched his fists. "Hebi said it'd be better if I didn't leave you alone until they figure out what's going on. It's not like I'm doing this because I want to."
"Hmmm," she said, eyeing him suspiciously. "Hey, Boruto."
"What?"
"Do you really think Hebi is on our side?"
"…Huh?"
"Think about it," said Sarada, walking a few steps ahead of him. "They could have easily used that situation earlier to force our trust in them."
Boruto looked down at the black triangular shaped mark in his hand. "You're not wrong… But… That's not the feeling I got when we talked."
"Oh? You talked?"
"Yeah, for a while," said Boruto, folding his arms behind his head. "Apparently not all of the people in the town want me to complete this mission."
"And what is that mission?"
His eyes immediately looked off into the shadows, pink dusting his cheeks. "You don't need to know… But," he said, looking back to the front, "it's being put on hold."
"Huh? I thought Hebi couldn't go home until you completed it. Wasn't it supposed to be important to their town? Why is it being put on hold?"
"That's the thing. Hebi wants to figure out who the other person is before they are sent home. I think they're trying to protect us…"
Sarada's head flopped forward. "I don't follow you… But," she turned towards Boruto, "if you believe in Hebi that much, I guess I will too."
"Sarada…"
"And don't get so depressed if I end up dying again."
Boruto froze.
With a sigh, Sarada turned around. "I don't have any memory of it, but I can only guess that's what happened." She leaned forward, putting her face right in front of his. "But I'm here now, calling you an idiot. And I will become the Hokage. No matter how many times Hebi has to revive me."
He stood unmoving, cheeks slowly turning pink.
Her eyes lingered on his for a moment more before she turned back around, now with a bit of a spring to her step. "So you don't have to worry so much, stupid Boruto."
Boruto's pupils shrunk as he looked off to the side. "Who said I was worried…"
"Oh? You really want to deny it? Shall I remind you of the touching scene where you threw yourself into my arms sobbing?"
"Ok, ok! I got it. Sheesh. You didn't see what I did…"
"…And what did you see?"
Boruto clenched his fists. "You don't want to know."
"If I didn't, I wouldn't be asking."
"Fine, then I'm not telling."
"You'd feel better if you did," replied Sarada in a singsong voice, holding the bento box containing leftover dinner behind her back.
Boruto's eyes widened. Is she… being considerate? He tucked his lips into his mouth, his eyes drifting off to the side. She didn't need to know what happened. It was ok, she was alive. "Nah, I don't think I would. I'm getting nauseous just thinking about it. You probably wouldn't be able to hold in your dinner if I told you," he retorted with a snide expression.
"Don't blame me if you have nightmares tonight for holding it in."
He turned away. "I'll have them for the rest of my life whether I hold it in or not…" The words came out in a mumble to quiet for her to hear, and he wouldn't have another opportunity to tell her. They were already at her doorstep.
As he watched her walk forward without hesitation, he felt a tinge of loneliness stab his chest. From the looks of the dark windows, Sakura still wasn't home. And neither was Sasuke. Sure, it was only a matter of time until Sakura got home. He wasn't going to ask to stay with her until then. But was this what she was used to returning to? An empty house? Sarada didn't hesitate to help his mom cook and clean up after dinner. And she almost seemed like she was enjoying it…
"You know," he began, taking his arms away from the back of his head and looking down.
"If you're going to tell me that I can come over more often," said Sarada, her hand pausing on the door handle, "don't."
Boruto looked up. "Why not?"
"I like cooking and doing housework. It's relaxing. And it's not like the seventh is never there, he comes home sometimes too." Sarada turned around, placing one hand on her hip. "If I was always taking your leftovers, your mom wouldn't show it, but she would be worried about how many people to cook for. And suddenly cooking for larger amounts of people is harder than it looks."
Boruto's fingers slowly dug into his palms. She already knew about all of this. She knew, and yet she put up with his whining. At least he could see his father whenever he wanted. At least he knew where his father was. At least his mom was always there to welcome him home. And Himawari was always there to play with. "Until I complete the mission…"
"…Huh?'
"Just until I complete the mission, and everything goes back to normal… You can come over if you get bored."
Sarada laughed. "And do what, watch you play video games? Boruto. I just told you not to worry about me."
Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned his back on her. "Fine, I'll leave... Don't forget to lock the door."
"I never lock the door in case papa comes home. But, I suppose I'll make an exception, since a certain someone is literally worrying himself sick about my wellbeing."
"I'm telling you, thinking about it is making me want to puke. Stop bringing it up," he whined, holding his stomach.
"Goodnight," she called, stepping inside her house.
"By the way, I'll admit it," said Boruto, turning his back to her. "I thought salad dressing was good… But mom's cooking is still better overall." With that, Boruto took a step forward and lifted his hand. "G'night, Sarada."
As he continued moving forward, he was completely unaware of the effects his compliment had on the now flustered recipient.
Heh, the author laughed, watching from behind a tree. I suppose it was worth it to wrap things up with the Hokage as quickly as possible. Luckily, Naruto didn't seem to be suspicious of my Sasuke acting skills. With a sigh, the Author looked towards the starry sky.
Time to start writing dreams.
0 notes
touyasdoll · 3 years
Note
Okay, but why the heck do people think that Izu would be a sub!????? Like dude!???? If anything, I can guarantee you that he can and WILL Detroit smash your pussy. And I BET that he has fucking many kinks and just imagining the riding his thigh is gjghjftujkouhmll mmmmmmmmmmm like gimme moreeeee, and I think he is a big TEASE like he will tease you until you are a mess and only then when you are whispering for him, is when he will touch you and also, he would knowingly go as slow as he can to tease you, like no getting faster and slowly thrusting in and out.
AHHH YES! Anon, I whole-heartedly agree with you. I’m convinced that sweet, innocent ‘Zuku is actually a fucking terror in bed & that’s a hill that I’ll die on 💚
NSFW, Minors DNI
A Break
Pairing: Izuku x reader
Genre: smut
Warnings: smut, nsfw, minors dni, orgasm control, teasing, bdsm dynamics, thigh-riding, praise, daddy kink, unprotected sex
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“Hey, baby,” Izuku smiled as you breezed through the door to his office. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“I remembered you said that you’d have to stay late tonight,” you strolled up beside him at his desk, where he was hunched over various files and loose sheets of paper, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “So I just thought that maybe I’d come and join you for dinner here. Figured we could order something in and you could take a little break.” You leaned down, kissing him sweetly. “You look pretty exhausted, hon.”
He sighed, leaning back in his office chair as he looked you over with a tired smile, “I am, a little bit.” He swiveled in his chair, sitting upright and reaching out to place his large hands behind your thighs, guiding you closer to him. “A break does sounds nice..”
"For dinner," you placed your other hand on his opposite shoulder, quirking an eyebrow when his hands began to traverse up the back of your thighs, creeping beneath the hem of your dress. "What're you hungry for?"
He chuckled, a deep and sensuous rumble in his chest that sent a shiver up your spine. His hands cupped just below your ass, suddenly yanking you toward him, throwing you off your balance until you came to rest securely on his thigh.
He leaned in, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear as he took one cheek in each hand, squeezing as he pulled your hips towards him, guiding you into grinding against his thigh, "I'm absolutely starving for a taste of you right now, baby."
"'Zuku," you sigh, taking your lip between your teeth.
"Ah, you know that's not my name, babygirl," his breath fanned over your cheek just before his lips pressed to your jawline, "but I'm willing to overlook it if you'll be a good girl and grind that pretty little pussy on me."
"Yes, Daddy," you mewled, happily doing as you were told.
You never could resist him for long and this was exactly why. The pleasure. That addictive sensation building between your thighs, spurred on by the delicious friction of your clothed cunt rocking against his flexed, muscular thigh.
He sat back and let you roll your hips to your heart's content, allowing you to chase your ultimate high while he cooed words of praise.
"Look at my good girl."
"Behaving so well for Daddy."
"You look so pretty when you're about to cum, baby."
But then came the pain. The pain of disappointment as he stilled your hips, stopping you just short of where you so desperately wanted to be. The peak that he never let you fully ascend on the first try.
You whined, tossing your head back as your fingers clenched around his shoulders.
"Something wrong, darling?" His voice was deceptively sweet, a sadistic habit of his by your standards.
He knew full well what was wrong, as he always did each time you did this song and dance. One that you knew nearly every routine too, but yet it never bored you. You never grew tired of going through each motion, eagerly bounding towards the next, because for all the suffering his tortuous teasing brought you, it always brought you far more pleasure in the end.
"Need you, Daddy," you whined, running a hand over his pecs, pleading with watering eyes. "Please, wanna cum. Need to."
"Need to?" His eyebrows jumped, his smile as gentle as ever. "I don't know about that, sweetheart." He placed his hands beneath your thighs, effortlessly lifting you onto his desk, standing between your parted legs. "I'll tell you what though," you watched as he dragged a finger up your torso, between your breasts, "I do feel like making you cum on my cock tonight. So, I'll make you a deal." His finger curled under your chin, bidding you to look up at him and you could see his green eyes glinting with devious intention. "No more whining."
You frowned, but he only smirked in reply.
"No whining," he repeated, a smug smile on his face as he retracted his hand to work himself out of his hero costume, peeling it down to reveal his scarred torso.
His hardened cock sprang free as the fabric dipped below his hips, taking the boxers he wore with it as your eyes ogled the beads of precum seeping from his tip.
You had to remind yourself not to whimper as your mouth fell open, his eyes regarding you expectantly, as if he knew you were about to fail the very first trial.
"I promise, Daddy," you spread your legs further, leaning back on your elbows as he stepped closer to you. "No more.”
Your chest heaved in anticipation, your breath hitching in your throat as he leaned over you, capturing your lips and letting out a low groan as his cock rubbed against your soaking panties.
“That’s my good girl,” he growled, two fingers hooking into your panties to tug them aside, allowing his throbbing tip to slip between your folds, but only barely.
You cried out, moaning as your eyes trained on his thick cock, slowly pushing into you. For a moment, you thought maybe he might actually sink all of himself inside, but he withheld.
He drew his hips back, dragging the bulbous head of his cock back along your walls as it came out of you with a sinfully wet noise.
You screwed your lips shut, closing your eyes as you willed yourself to remain quiet. To withhold the needy words piling up in your throat.
“You like that, babygirl?” Two hands skimmed along your sides, taking your dress up and over your breasts as you felt the familiar stretch between your thighs once more.
His hips thrust forward unexpectedly as his massive hands pulled down the cups of your bra to palm your breasts, drawing a sharp gasp from you.
“Love it, Daddy,” you whispered, your voice soft and quiet as you balled your hands into fists, squirming beneath him.
He gazed down at you, one corner of his lips pitched up in a crooked grin as he raked his eyes over your exposed frame, “You can still tell me how much you want it,” he pushed in a little deeper, stopping at about the halfway point. “I just don’t wanna hear you complain about me taking my time with you. It feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”
He began thrusting at a slow, steady pace, never fully sheathing himself inside you. Slow and shallow was all that you he offered you, but it was enough to have you babbling anyway.
“F-feels so good,” you cooed, eyes locked with his as your mouth fell open, ushering moan after moan past your lips.
“You want more?” He slid his hands behind your back, pulling you closer so he could hold you in his arms as his lips moved against yours, drowning out your sinful noises with his heated kiss.
“Always,” you spoke breathlessly between kisses, “Always want more of you, Daddy.”
He groaned, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. As much as he loved to draw out these moments with you, he was quickly losing his resolve.
Each gasping breath. Every contraction of your walls around the head of his dick. The way you were looking at him, so obedient despite how desperately you clearly wanted more.
He wanted to give it to you, to really give it to you.
“Oh, fuck,” you threw your head back, arms encircling his neck as the pressure in your belly began to build in earnest. “Daddy, I-I think I’m gonna cum.”
The broken sob that heaved from your chest was the last straw.
Calloused hands seized your hips, digging in to your supple skin as he finally thrust all of his length inside you.
“Did Daddy say you could cum yet?” He held himself there, fighting the feral need to impale you until you were screaming his name. The tears pricking your eyes only made it that much harder to hang on.
“No,” you sighed, clenching your eyes shut, aiding a single tear in its descent over your cheek.
“Fuck, you’re doing so good for me, baby,” he wiped the tear away, cupping your face with both hands now as he pulled his hips back at a glacial pace, until he’d completely removed himself from your core.
His mouth hovered just over yours, catching every shaky breath you expelled and the moans that accompanied them. He could still feel you clenching around nothing as he rutted his length between your folds. It had him nearly fit to burst, seeing how needy you were, how badly you wanted to suck him back into you.
For a moment, he contemplated just finishing himself off there. Splattering your pretty tits with his cum and watching it drip down your torso, into that sweet cunt of yours for him to lick clean.
But instead, he tucked that idea away. He’d come back to it when he was feeling a little more patient, because all he wanted right now was to barrage your cervix until your pussy milked him dry.
In one fluid motion, he lined his cock up with your dripping hole and snapped into you, immediately setting a relentless pace.
You could feel the smirk on his lips as you cried out against them, grasping onto him for dear life as you keened louder and louder, hoping the outpouring of cries would lessen the need to come undone.
“Cum for me,” he growled, finally taking mercy as he captured your lips in a proper kiss, his hands dropping away from your face to come to rest on your lower back as he felt his release fast approaching.
He swallowed the strangled moan you let out as you finally let go, pulling away only to hear your wanton cries as tears streamed over your cheeks. Your fucked out face almost giving him a greater sense of satisfaction than the way your walls spasmed around him as he painted them white with his hot, thick ropes of cum.
“Thank you, baby,” he smiled softly, resting his forehead against yours as you both floated back down, collecting your breath. “I needed that.”
“Mm, anytime, love,” you laughed quietly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “But now you definitely owe me dinner.”
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stay-midnight · 3 years
Text
Fun through Harsh Times
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Kim Seungmin x Male Reader x Bang Chan
W.C: 4.8K Words
Triggers: Explicit Smut, Human Discrimination, Conflict at the end, Some angst too.
THINGS TO NOTE: Demigod AU!! Seungmin - Son of Athena, Chan — Son of Demeter, Hyunjin — Son of Nemesis, Changbin — Son of Hades. Human Reader
Kinks/Warnings: Dom/Top Seungmin, Switch/Verse Reader, Sub/Bottom Bang Chan, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex (make sure to cover the d to prevent std~), Buttplugs, Cuckolding, Daddy Kink, Master Kink, Use of Vines, Seungmin has a big dick, Degradation, Punishments, Usage of a different petnames, Biting, Mutual Masturbation, Lots of Cum, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Crying, Nipple Play, Ass Slapping, Use of Abilities and Powers during Sex, Bruises, Rough Sex, Soft Aftercare.
A/N: my works are getting longer I- and ooh~ this is my second? third? fic this month omg hshshsh. Also, I reread this alot of times to make sure it's okay cuz i didn't like it's based form so i had to rewrite and add new things. 💀💀, anygays hopefully you guys like this! oh and after the changbin fic which I may start writing at the 20th, in June i may open requests! this time though, ill accept three to not stress myself 💀.
You carefully remove the bread from the oven as to not burn yourself, looking at the clearly displeased customer at a call at how slow-paced you were working. You finally placed the bought breads at a plastic bag, handing it to him with a fake smile.
“Sorry, the dumb fucking human was too slow.” The customer spoke to the phone loud enough for you to catch as he walked away in a bad mood.
You sighed tiredly, remembering the amount of discrimination you received after living here for these past few months.
When Seungmin asked you to live with him and Chan at the island, you were ecstatic since you thought it would be amazing to move in with your boyfriends.
All your expectations were shut down as soon as the demigods that lived in the island clearly were not happy with you arriving. The constant murmurs and the glares were enough to tell you so.
Though, Seungmin and Chan didn't know how badly people treated you in the bakery.
You didn't wanna burden them as you were already thankful of living with them.
Changbin was there in the bakery with you anyway, if someone gets too harsh on you Bin was always there to scare them away.
Changbin was scary at first when you started working with him, when you found out he was Hades’ son — you were extremely careful to not get sent to the underworld. As time passed by, you found out he was extremely soft, so you became good friends with the man.
You blink tiredly as you picked up your bag and hauled it over your shoulder, before placing the "close" sign outside and bringing down the metal bars.
“I’m heading home now Binnie!” you shouted to the male at the back that was arranging boxes. You remove your apron, seconds later before fixing up your shirt and brushing your hair off your face.
“Bye! Stay safe on the way home, Y/N!” Changbin shouted back before groaning loudly and loud thud sound. You were about to check on him before he shouted again.
“I’m okay! Stupid box just fell..” he said out. You chuckle and slowly moved away.
“Be careful more, Bin!” you said back, before finally taking your leave with a last okay, bye! from him.
. . .
You sighed as you continued walking back to where you’re residing in — Seungmin’s mansion.
Seungmin has many times told you that you didn't need to work or and he could send a driver to pick you up. You rejected both offer, since you wanted to work and atleast help pay for your food. You also rejected the offer about the pick-up driver, opting to walk home instead.
Humming as you scrolled through the social media on your phone, you continuously walked to the direction of the place you called home with a smile on your face as you read through the cat posts.
You looked around a bit and caught the looks of disgust on the face of the nearby citizens causing you to freeze — before slowly moving again, trying to ignore them.
“What’s with them against humans anyways.” you whisper lowly as you try to ignore them, a slight pang shot through your heart, sad when you heard something.
“What did Athena’s son see in him anyways, he already has Demeter's boy. Why bring a human into the mix.” A lady near you harshly whispered.
You bit your lips trying to contain your flaring anger at her — trying to relax your nerves that was begging to have a go at her, just so you could finally arrive at the house.
. . .
You sighed in relief at the sight of the mansion gate, before even tapping the doorbell — you were greeted by the sight of the most beautiful emerald eyes, smiling brightly with dimples shown.
“Y/N~!” said male shouted in an excited manner, he looked as pretty as always and you just can't help falling for him like the day you first met.
All invasive thoughts left your mind at the sight of your bright and caring lover.
“Hi Channie~” you greeted as the gates slowly retracted to the side, removing the barrier between both of you. He ran to you and threw himself at you to which you caught him happily.
He then wrapped his arms around your neck and kissed you in a endearing way. “Where is Seung?” you ask after a bit, taking a peek at the front garden.
He let out a frown before grabbing your hand and led you through the path, “He.. He... still hasn't returned.. It’s been four days.” Chan said in a melancholic tone, his once bright eyes dimmed in sadness.
You look at him before taking notice that the plants at the sides were drying up and water was coming out of them. You frowned at the sight of it and continued as Chan led you inside.
“Chan... Seung has a lot of duties, he—” you waved your hand away at the maid entering with food to which she nods and leaves before continuing, “He has a lot on his shoulders especially dealing with the rebels, okay?” you reassured him, gently patting his head that was hung low.
Chan nodded understandingly before turning to you and leaning closer for a kiss on the lips to which you happily obliged — kissing him dearly.
“So no more, moping around. He wouldn't want that would he?” you smiled at him to which he nods at your words and gave you a lovely smile.
“He wouldn't..” he trailed off before climbing on to your lap to which you held him, you were still loving the fact that despite Chan being older than you and Min, he is the cutest.
Sure, Seungmin is cute as well but he has that scary side of him which leaves everyone shaking.
You buried your face on the neck of your lover and sighed. Chan smelled like flowers — fresh flowers to say the least, which calmed your nerves a bit. Chan giggles at you tickling his neck with your breath to which you cooed slightly.
A knock was heard from outside the door on the room you were both in, “Come in!” you said loudly for the person to hear.
A guard suddenly opened the door, “Sire’s.” he bowed deeply, “Uh, Sir Seungmin is coming home later at around an hour or so..” he said, pressing his lips to a thin line at the silent air he got and the stares from both of you.
The guard looked at you with a frown before smiling at the sight Chan. You looked at him with a saddened look to which he took note off, clearly trying not to scoff.
Chan also was suspicious at how the low demigod looked at you differently, Chan immediately raised his eyebrows at the guard
“He just wanted to let both of you know..” the guard quickly stated before leaving and shutting the door quickly due to the awkward tension he felt.
Chan bursted in a happy frenzy when the man left as he launched himself to hug you.
The flowers at the table suddenly bloomed after Chan’s was excited.
Chan slowly climbed off your lap and sat on the bed — he turned to you before raising both his eyebrows in a teasing
Then Chan smirked at you seconds later, his mind whirring thoughts. “Wanna give him a surprise?” he murmured.
You raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in demeanor — This was the Chan that teased both you and Seungmin in bed, the Chan that always had bratty plans in mind — the Chan that loved to be punished by Seungmin.
You nod without even knowing what will happen — little did you know about what’s Seungmin is gonna do to both of you later.
. . .
You look at Chan as if he was a crazy person, “Chan, are you sure? You know how Seung is when we start things without h-him?” you said in shock at the idea, shivering and stuttering at the thought when Seungmin caught both of you fucking without him. Let’s just say neither Chan or you could sit properly for days.
He tilted his head and smiled, “Cmon, Y/N.. It’ll be fun! Plus, he left us hanging for four days.” you look at Chan before sighing in defeat.
You knew Seungmin was just doing his job as Athena’s Son so Chan’s reason wasn't justifiable to say the least. But how Seungmin punished both of you was really hot at that time.. And you wouldn't mind seeing it again.
“Fine...” you said — giving in to Chan’s request, even though knowing it was a scary and terrible idea. Chan held out his hand before a pink flower and with red edges at their pollens appeared.
“Is that one of your drug flowers, again Channie?—” you asked, looked at him confused. To which Chan giggled and nodded repeatedly.
Chan is a son of Demeter, meaning he has control over nature’s plants, he is one of the tender of green life in the island but usually he isn't on duty because there are other children of Demeter on this island. You didn't know though, that Chan could create special types of flowers that contain a drug or an effect in them when inhaling their scent. The first drug flower you saw was a grey flower — it makes people fall asleep fast.
“What is it?” you asks, eyeing the flower carefully, he grinned at you before saying, “Aphrodisiac.” he said, moving the flower closer to your face.
You look at him before covering your nose immediately, “Why?!” you said through your hand, not wanting to inhale more of its alluring scent.
A smirk was back on his lips, “Maybe it’ll make you hornier therefore, maybe you can fuck me rougher?” he said teasingly before withdrawing the dangerous drug from your face.
You let go of your nose and sighed, “You could just ask..?” He looked at you straight in the eyes as you finished your statement — Chan’s orbs glinting with arousal, the aphrodisiac flower in his hand slowly wilted to gray dust.
“Hm? Would you be rough with me then?” He purred, pushing you down the bed — his emerald orbs staring down to yours, He grinded his ass on your clothed cock in a teasing manner.
A grin was plastered on his face before you switched positions with him, his back hitting the bed softly. He gasped, clearly suprised with the action.
You had both of his hands pinned on top of his head in a heartbeat causing Chan to squirm against your grip, “You’re such a brat, baby~... And I don't like brats.” you said the last part with a glare. He whined before looking up at you with puppy eyes, to which you chuckled at.
“That won’t work Channie.” you said, biting his neck harshly — him releasing a loud moan at the pain, Chan was such a painslut — he got off to Seungmin’s punishments so you expected no less.
You slowly lowered Chan’s shorts that he was wearing. Smiling at the growing dark spot at the middle of his underwear. “Already leaking? What a slutty baby, I have~” You taunted, squeezing his growing erection as you pressed your own clothed bulge against his thigh.
Chan moaned loudly at what you said his dick hardening even more.
You clicked your tongue in annoyance at the clothes you were both wearing.
You made quick work of the clothes on Chan’s body and yours as well. You noticed that vines with pink roses had appeared at the corners of the room, to which you smiled at — it shows that Chan was extremely needy.
You look at Chan — bare as the day he was born, your eyes raked over his form — from his face that had a red hue to the, to his chest and those beautiful pink buds — and to his pretty pink dick that was leaking precum down to his balls. He was so beautiful — inside and out. Fuck, his delicate pale skin was very enticing to fill with marks.
You wanted to ravage this man in front of you and savour the pleasure.
Chan let out a whine, “D— Do something, master...” he said, to which you raised an eyebrow at the sudden nickname.
You never expected Chan to call you that, so you looked at him with widened eyes before regaining your composure and moved closer to Chan as you hovered over him.
You lift his legs up shortly, licking your lips at the puckered hole — already shining and wet. “You prepped yourself already?” You ask, softly touching the ring of muscles with your thumb — gently.
He nods repeatedly, rolling his hips down impatiently — wanting some form of penetration, “Stay still, dumb pup.” you said harshly before finally shoving two fingers at his wet hole immediately. Feeling his walls clench against your digits.
“M-Master, please.... Puppy don’t need more stretching, puppy just wanna be fucked.” He begged, a tear slowly falling off his red cheeks.
You hummed, acknowledging his request — you took a condom from the drawer to which he pouted before plants came out of your hands and snagged the condom away and back to the drawer. “No condoms please...” he said, looking at you with a pout.
You smiled and lined up your tip against his lubricated hole — you smiled at his babbling words at the pressure on his entrance.
You spread his legs further — almost bending him in half, you cooed at the sight of his leaking cock — dripping a lot against his abs. You then slowly sink in to the welcoming warmth, savouring how his walls spazzes around your size.
“Ah f-fuck, puppy...” you almost howled out as your hips hit his ass. Chan was so cute — his eyes stinging with tears as he let out small moans. His chest was heaving and red was spreading all over his chest.
“M-Master, move. move, p-please...” He whined out, pushing himself back on your cock. You grinned as you remember his request earlier about being rough.
You pulled out slowly, before snapping your hips back as you fucked him precisely but rough at the same time. His useless cock was now oozing with cum at the tip. “F— Fuck fuck fuck.” he chanted repeatedly with every snap of your hips, as he rolled his eyes back at the pleasure.
You see red at the sight of Chan moaning "Master" while also cursing at the same time. You grip his muscular thighs as you pull him back on your cock, thrusting up to him in sequence.
“Pup, I’m close... God, you feel so good around me..” Chan moaned in response as you leaned down to bite a pink nipple, the bud hardening against your teeth as he arch his back against you at the sensation.
You disconnected your lips from his perked bud so you could take a look at the beautiful man underneath you.
Chan looked so fucked out, his hair was disheveled and his green eyes were shining through his tears. You were almost proud at how much you fucked Chan dumb.
“Cumming!! Master, ah~” he sniffed as he felt his cock shoot out spurts of white, reaching up to his pec — decorating his chest in his white sperm.
His walls clenched around you in a tight grip as you let out a low moan of your own as you emptied yourself inside of him — filling him up as you gripped his hips in a bruising way.
Chan’s body were trembling from the aftershock of his orgasm, you pecked his lips and smiled as you look down at him, his chest heaving and sweat and cum mixing on his pretty skin.
“I’m pulling out Channie, is that okay?” You asked in a warm tone, softly brushing your hand through his hair to relax him.
“Plug..?” he breathed out as you nod before reaching out to one of the drawers and pulling out a medium-sized buttplug before slowly pulling out of him — placing the plug to keep Chan full of your warm liquid.
He sighed in relief and smiled at you to which you smiled back, “I’ll go get a towel to clean you up, alright?” you said before getting up and placing your boxers on.
He hummed in agreement as he just laid there a bit tired of the activities.
. .
You opened the door out the room to run to the bathroom before a voice behind you stopped you, “Had fun, Y/N?” the male voice said in a cold tone.
You turned back and saw Seungmin standing, leaning at the wall as he looked at you with deadly eyes. “You both started without me.” he said blankly before trudging towards you as you stood there with cold feet.
“Why don’t you tell me, love. Who wanted it more?” Seungmin whispered to your ear when he stood in front of you his hand trailing down to your ass before grabbing a cheek.
“I— I did.”
He slapped your ass firmly — a moan slipped out of your lips from that. His eyes flashed a dangerous pink hue before it returned to normal. “Do you think you could lie to me?” he hissed out.
“A-Ah... Channie did..” You gulped at the slight anger that was hidden in his voice.
“As expected.” he chuckled darkly before pulling on your arm, slowly dragging you back to the room.
. .
A sudden opening of the door, made the tired Chan jump up from the bed. His mouth opened in shock as Seungmin was there with a grip on you.
Seungmin wanted to coo at Chan’s expression but instead kept his act on.
“Sit on the bed.” he said referring to you, to which you complied to easily. He silently grabbed the bottle of lube at a drawer — yours and Chan’s eyes following his form as he does so.
Seungmin then removed his clothes with ease, you almost drooling at his large length to which you eyed like candy, to which Seungmin took notice and almost smiled — just barely stopping himself from doing so.
“Tie yourself up, puppy.” Seungmin said in a voice of authority to which Chan lightly whimpered at, he nods slightly before placing his hand above his head and against the headboard.
A gasp left your lips as vines started to wrap and thicken around Chan’s wrists, tightening up and securing Chan on the side of the bed.
It always shocks you when Seung uses that ability he was blessed with, "Voice of Authority" as the demigods call it. Whenever Seungmin uses it, most weaker demigods will get on there knees and comply but much stronger ones can resist it. Whenever Seungmin uses it on humans though, it gives him perfect control over them.
— Seungmin promised you he will never use it on you as he doesn't want to take away your free will.
Seungmin sat on the bed, grabbing you and placing you on his lap harshly before he moved you and himself so he could face Chan.
His cock was hardening on your back as he bit your neck softly, he looked at Chan with a smirk, “Tell me puppy, what did you call Y/N earlier again?”
Chan looked at you and whined as his cock started to spring up. “I c-called him, m-master...” he said, looking at Seungmin with puppy eyes as his hole clearly clenched around the buttplug.
Seungmin chuckled as he kissed your shoulder, “And who am I to you, pretty?” Seungmin whispered in your ears huskily, clearly noticing your cock straining against your boxers.
“D— Daddy..” you asked, embarrassed as you felt Chan’s gaze upon you, a gasp left you as Seungmin pulled down your boxers in one go, his hands trailing over your thighs.
He lifted you up a bit so that your hole was exposed to Chan and so that his hands could near it.
He popped the bottle of lube open, circling your rim with a wet finger. You let out a sigh of pleasure when a finger finally went into you, slowly — it wasn't enough though, you needed more.
Seungmin took your hips rocking as a go sign as another finger joined inside till it finally became three moments later, you were bouncing on his slender fingers now and Chan was watching all of this unfold with tired eyes but his cock that was standing provided enough that Seungmin knows that he is still needy.
“Want your cock, da— daddy..” you begged out in a high voice, wanting the man behind you to fully destroy you already.
Seungmin turned to Chan that was rubbing his legs together uncomfortably — in need of some sort of friction. “Look at your master being a pathetic cockslut, Channie~” he mocked you, to which Chan let out a short “M—Mmph~”
You whimper at what Seungmin had said.
Before he lifted you up and slowly brung you down on his large dick, your back flushed against his chest.
Chan moaned at the sight of your hole taking in Seungmin’s cock deliciously while you had drool dripping down your cheek at the amazing stretch.
Chan whined against his restraints as his cock leaked as much as it could.
You lay your head back on Seungmin’s shoulder as you panted in pleasure, Seungmin nuzzled his head on your shoulder before using his fingers to pulling at your nipples.
You moaned loudly when Seungmin shifted a bit causing his cock inside to prod your bundle of sensitive nerves.
Seungmin pulled you off his dick slowly before slamming you back down, causing you to let out a cry as your hole clenched around his girth repeatedly.
“Doing so good, baby.. You feel so tight around me, yeah? Well this is gonna be a long punishment isn’t it? Let’s if you can walk tomorrow, love~” He hummed, kissing the back of your ear as you let out whimpers of pleasure.
He then look at Chan who was still messy but pretty, “Don’t think you’re out of the punishment though, slut. You’re not gonna cum as you watch me destroy your cocksleeve of a master’s hole.”
Chan thrusts up into the air and whine in retaliation, with his mind set on one thing, wanna cum.
Seungmin then started a rough pace of thrusting up into you, chasing his own pleasure and using you as his very own fucktoy for your punishment.
. . .
.
You forgot now how long Seungmin was thrusting into you and rearranging your insides — how long he had speared you on his cock. You were on cloud nine the whole time so you didn't bother to take notice of the time.
But your body was aching from your third orgasm today and Seungmin hadn't even came yet — how the hell does he last so long.. Fuck. you wanted him to fill you up like how you filled up Channie earlier.
Speaking of Chan, you looked at him and saw him whining and writhing — hopelessly rubbing his thighs together. His muscles were flexing, the more he struggles.
White spots blinded your eyesight as you trembled, your tip spurting out little dribbles of cum as you moaned weakly. Your cock felt like falling off as the lewd squelching filled the room.
Seungmin was growling while marking your neck as every thrust of his, sends a dizzying shiver throughout your body.
“I’m close now, love...” He whispered to which you responded with a simple and short, “Want it inside..”
Seungmin chuckled deeply and wrapped his hands around your waist before thrusting up to you one last time and coating your walls in sticky white with a sexy groan — as you let out a weak moan at the wet sensation.
That was what it all took for you to collapse on the bed, your cheeks pressing into the warm mattress as you felt Seung’s cum dribble out your hole — down to your balls and wetting the mattress.
Seungmin licked his lips at the sight of your entrance loose, gaping and oozing with his cum.
Seungmin was also tired, so he grabbed Chan’s cock in his hand to jerk him off fast to which Chan came immediately with a howl.
“You can untie yourself now, Channie..” Seungmin said in a soft tone,, to then which the vines restricting his hands turned into dust immediately before Chan grabbed you softly and held you.
You look at Chan with droopy eyes, smiling at him dearly. Chan giggled before holding you tightly even though his body was sticky.
Seungmin had went out of the room to fetch some dry towels and water while also leaving his two lovers to cuddle with one another.
. .
“You okay, bubs? Minnie wasn't too rough? I could prick him with thorns if you’d like..~” Chan mumbles, pecking your lips softly while also letting out a tiny laugh at then end.
You nod, giggling afterwards to which Chan smiled — brushing through your locks with his hand, a loving grin plastered on his face.
Humming softly as Chan waited for Seungmin to come back.
. .
Seungmin finally arrived with a three damp cloth hanging on his shoulder while carrying a cup and a pitcher filled with water. He smiled lovingly at the both of you before setting down the water pitcher and cups at the nightstand.
He then moved closer to the both of you to wipe both of you clean. He started with Chan, thoroughly wiping his chest down to his abs before teasing him by pushing the buttplug deeper in his ass to which Chan let out a small whine too.
After that, he cleaned you up too by wiping the cum on your thighs and around your buttcheeks.
He started to finger your gaping hole slowly too, trying to remove any more excess cum that was left inside. While being fingered, you were biting your lips, trying to not moan at a sensitive part being touched.
He looked at both you and Chan sweetly, before leaning down to kiss you both at the forehead. “Such good babies, I have~” He said in a teasing tone.
Chan pouted, “I’m older than you, Minmin!!”, he glared at Seungmin which made him laugh, he then patted Chan’s head. “Doesn’t matter, pup~” You watched their interactions with a tired smile.
Before Seungmin remembered something earlier to which he turned to you, sitting on the bed. His smile turning flat. “So, I passed by the bakery earlier and your co-worker said something to me.”
You froze on the spot before looking at his cold eyes, “Why didn't you tell me that the other citizens treated you like shit and called you names?” He said, a small anger laced in his voice. — It was not directed at you though.
Silence.
Chan’s mouth hang agape a short while before he growled — taking into account what Seungmin said, “They do fucking what to you?” He snapped, venom clearly in his tone. Chan rarely gets mad and when he does expect a disaster.
Chan barely could contain himself as roots flowed out the walls and into the hallway, Seungmin looked over at Chan, “Channie, calm down.” His eyes flashing the same pink hue as earlier in the hallway encounter.
“Calm— What? Calm down? They treat him terribly, and you expect me to not choke them where they live?” Chan seethed, not happy at what Seungmin is doing — which is trying to stop him.
The roots on the walls enlarge and footsteps was audibly heard outside the walls of the room — possibly guards that were trying to run away to avoid getting trampled by the evergrowing vines
“I’ll deal with it, so don't worry. Just don't destroy the house okay?” Seungmin tried to reason as best as he can.
But Chan didn't stop still littering the whole room with dangerous roots and long vines. Angry Chan was a force to be reckoned with ans even Min had hard times to calm him down.
“Chan.” Seungmin had used his own ability now, wanting Chan to stop what he was doing — His jaw tightened in frustration while you sat there with fear at the conflict of your boyfriends.
Chan flinched slightly before growling lowly, challenging Seungmin, “Don’t you fucking dare use that on me outside of bed, Kim Seungmin.” he said darkly, glaring at black haired man.
“Bang Christopher fucking Chan. Wilt your plants, are you challenging me? ” Seungmin looked down at Chan with a dark pink flare at his eyes, displeased with the disrespect of the nature demigod.
Chan’s eyes slowly diluted back to normal and whimpered, his plants were now gone — turned into dust, he looked at Seungmin like a puppy that had been beaten up.
Seungmin sighed and sat back down on the bed, petting Chan is in his fragile state before he grabbed him so he could hold him properly.
He looked at you before speaking, “You’re gonna have a bodyguard with you at all times, I already assigned who. Hyunjin will detain anyone who bad-mouths you, okay?” Seungmin said clear as day.
“B— But-”
“No buts, Y/N. This is for your safety, not only physically but also emotionally. Plus, they can't get away with disrespecting what’s mine.” He fumed slightly.
Your eyes softened and rubbed his shoulder comfortably to soothe his anger. “Fine. But let’s sleep for now. Chan is tired, you’re tired, I’m also tired...” you whisper to him, hugging him before he laid Chan down to the bed.
Soon enough all of you fell into a comfortable sleep, you were hugging Chan as Seungmin was spooning the both of you. The fight earlier soon vanished like a wisp as the room fell into a comfortable silence.
. . .
Special Scene~:
“How dare you fucking touch me. I am a son of A— ow! ow!” The man getting cuffed by Hyunjin said out. Hyunjin made sure to tighten the cuffs more to make sure the rude customer felt discomfort.
“Do I look like I care? No. You are going to have jail time, bitch.” Hyunjin, a son of Nemesis sassed out as he grabbed his phone and dialed someone to come pick the detainee up.
You look over at Changbin at the scene you just witnessed, he looked back at you.
“Okay, but that’s kinda ho—”
“Changbin!” you look at him, secretly judging his word choices.
“What? It’s true..” Hades’ son trailed off.
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mod-x · 3 years
Text
Border Collie Puppyboy!Nishinoya Yuu
Part of the Love Club Puppy Boy Collab! Sorry this is so late! School has already been kicking my ass! 
Characters: PuppyBoy! Nishinoya Yuu x GN! reader
Warnings: leash (collar implied), slight degradation, praise, oral (Yuu receiving), cock stepping (briefly), cock slapping (once), public sex, slight begging
Taglist: @liberhoe @lo-xwrites
You couldn’t believe it. You had brought your sweet puppy, Nishinoya, to the mall with you. He was rambunctious and silly, which you loved, but you never would have thought he would crawl between your legs and nuzzle at your clothed crotch while you were sitting at a table, having coffee. 
You gave a harsh tug on his leash as a warning but he only whined, pressing further against you. You tugged again, another warning. Yuu didn’t want to listen. He wanted his face to please you. Right then. 
You gritted your teeth and pressed the ball of your foot to his clothed cock, not surprised to find it hard and straining against the fabric. You hummed softly and cooed to him. “Oh little puppy~” 
A whine was your reply and Yuu slowly pulled his head from under your skirt. “Y-yes?” 
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
He shrank a little at your voice. He knew that tone. He was in for a punishment. “Um...wanting to taste you.” 
“Naughty little puppy.” You pressed harder on his cock, making him whimper in pain and pleasure. “You know better than to do that without permission, let alone in public.” You drummed your fingers on the table. “What to do with you….” 
Yuu looked up at you with big brown eyes, pupils blown wide in lust. “I-I’m sorry. I’ll be good now.” 
“Oh no, slut. You’re going to learn your lesson.” You stood, yanking on the leash. “Come.” You trotted toward the bathroom, Yuu scrambling to follow you. You quickly snuck him into the bathroom and to a stall. Tugging him in and slamming the door closed made your puppy jump. He watched you with curious eyes as you yanked him to his feet and pressed him against the stall. 
“You are so naughty,” you purred as you knelt in front of him, rubbing him through his pants. 
Yuu gasped and whined lowly. “I-I’m sorry! I- please don’t tease, please!” 
Humming again, you lightly slapped his cock, making him bite back a cry. “Hush. You know better than that.” You mouthed at his clothed bulge. He was sensitive, you knew this. And you were going to use it to your advantage. 
You unzipped his jeans and pulled them down around his hips. You had to laugh when he rutted into the air. His ears were twitching and he gave you a pleading look. You almost caved. He was usually so good, so you didn’t want to make him wait for too long. 
Instead you sucked on his shaft through his boxers, fondling his balls. His hands flew to your hair, so you pulled back and glared at him. “Excuse me? What are you doing?” 
“S-sorry. C’n’t help it,” he breathed, retracting his hands. 
“Yes you can. Put them behind your back.” 
He whined again, crossing his arms behind his back and pinning them against the stall with his body. “Yes.” 
“Good boy.” You smiled as the praise made his tail wag and his cock jump. “Are you my good boy? That’s my good boy.~” 
“Mhm, your good boy!” His hips rutted into your hand. “Please, ‘m good!” 
“Shush, don’t get us caught.” 
“S-sorry.” He bit his lip to stifle his moans, especially as you yank down his boxers. His cock, thick and fairly long, slapped against his shirt, dripping and flushed pink. 
You licked your lips at the sight. Yuu’s cock was perfect. It filled your mouth, it stretched you out and hit all the right places. You loved it in you. Your hands gently caressed the shaft, slowly stroking him. “So pretty, puppy. I love your cock.” 
“Kn-know you do. Glad you like it.” He wanted nothing more than to card his hands through your hair. His breath hitched when you took his tip in your hand and smeared precum all over your palm, using it as lube to stroke his cock better. The slick sounds were lewd in the bathroom, which miraculously were empty. You hoped that didn’t last; you wanted your puppy to try to hide his noises. 
When you deemed him ready, you wrapped your lips around his tip, suckling on it. You could never describe the taste, but you loved it nonetheless. Your tongue laved over his slit and he stifled a loud whimper. “Please, please, please.” 
You pulled off him, your free hand moving to cup his balls and massage them. “Please what, mutt?” 
“I wanna cum, I’m sorry!” His head thunked back against the cool metal of the stall. He was trembling; you almost felt bad. He didn’t act out much, at least sexual wise. Pity almost overtook you when the bathroom door opened and a few voices alerted you of people’s presence. 
Yuu’s eyes widened and he looked at you pleadingly, begging for you to have mercy on him. But he knew it was futile. You were already pumping his cock, painfully slow. He bit his lip to hide a yelp of pleasure. 
Stalls opened and closed, signalling they were being used. So you took Yuu all the way down, nose buried in his curly pubes. He gasped and let out the smallest of whines. He wanted so badly to bury his hands in your hair and facefuck you, but he knew better. 
You swallowed around him,starting to gag and choke. It added extra vibrations for stimulus. It always drove Yuu wild when you did it too. His hips bucked slightly, forcing himself even further. His cock was jumping and twitching, waiting for your command. 
Slowly, very slowly, you pulled off his length, drool connecting your lips to his tip. He whined out breathless pleas. You chuckled softly. “Patience, puppy. I was just taking a breath.” Your voice was quiet so only he could hear. “You wanna cum?” Your response was a frantic nod. “Beg, pup.” 
“Please please please, I wanna cum, ple-ASE!” He tried to keep his voice quiet, he really did but it was too much. It was all too much. 
“Um...Is everything okay in there?” The person two stalls down asked. 
You glared up at Yuu, making him completely melt, to answer. “Y-yeah, yes I’m fine! Sorry!” 
“It’s chill, man.” 
You decide to give Yuu a break, waiting until all the people are out of the bathroom. Soon it was empty, minus the two of you. So you stroke him slowly. 
“Ready, puppy?” 
“Please, I wanna cum, please?” 
“Good boy.” You slowly took him into your mouth and bobbed your head, taking him until it hit your gag reflex. 
“Fuck! Cumming!” His hips buck wildly, his hands flying to your hair, all need to obey completely out the window. You didn’t mind; your main focus was to get him to cum. His hips stuttered as he came hard. You weren’t expecting it so fast. It choked you up a little. But you swallowed it all and made sure to milk him dry. 
“Mmm~” You pulled off him and licked your lips. “You taste so good, puppy.” 
“Th-thank you. C-can I help you now?” 
“No thank you. I’m just fine.” You gently put him back together before standing and cupping his face. “Are you all right?” 
He leaned into your touch. “Mhm, I am.” 
“Let’s go home so we can snuggle.” You kissed his cheek. “You’re a good boy.” You scritched behind his ears before gently leading him out of the bathroom and toward your car.
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Text
Security Blanket
Prompts: So in a lot of your TSS fics Janus is the one taking care of everyone, giving sweet pet names, and hugging them, but what about a fic where Janus finally gets taken care of…? Just a suggestion! (I also suggest to include angst!) - anon
So many of your fics are Janus taking care of the others (and he is so valid in that, as are you ) (/pos) but it got me thinking of who takes care of Janus?? - anon
Hi! For a prompt, what about Remus and Logan comforting Janus? It can be really angsty or barely enough hurt for hurt/comfort - anon
ooof thank god i get to post something soft today
Read on Ao3
Warnings: hypothermia
Pairings: duckeceit, loceit, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic I don't care
Word Count: 3586
As one might be able to imagine, keeping track of Janus at the best of times is an ordeal.
Even if the man weren’t part snake and literally the embodiment of deceit, he’s a private person. He keeps to himself, keeps to his shadows, and when he allows you to discover anything about him—and make no mistake, he is allowing you to do so—it is never enough to answer all the questions you might have about him.
Remus doesn’t ask that many questions.
He doesn’t care, not really, about the precise inner workings of someone’s psyche or the things that make them who they are. That’s Janny’s domain. He knows what buttons to push to make them jump and what things they’re afraid of so he can avoid them—or exploit them—if necessary. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t paying attention.
He knows Janus gets cold. He knows Janus has a hard time being touched. He knows Janus has a very hard going to others for help.
So when there’s an emergency in Thomas’s apartment and the heating’s on the blink, Remus knows he’s got to be the one that finds Janus.
He checks everywhere he can think of. The cupboard under the stairs, the big open carpet near the windows, the corner of the living room made up with blankets and pillows, and nothing. No Snakey.
As a last-ditch attempt, he checks the bathroom.
He opens the door and the thoughts slam into his chest.
It’s so cold, a cold he can feel right down to his bones as if his body is trying to break apart at the seams just to feel something. It’s so lonely, painfully lonely, every ounce of his body screaming for something, anything, someone, anyone. There’s the sharp sting of pain riding an undercurrent of betrayal so vitriolic it almost feels like a violation. And buried beneath it all is the quiet sob of alone, alone, alone, alone.
Remus blinks and finally sees the figure curled up in the shower.
The shower isn’t running, the figure isn’t naked. It’s a huddle of dark clothes, an askew hat, and a yellow blanket clutched tightly over the face. He tries for a breath and the metallic sting of blood hits him square in the nose.
This is so much worse than he thought it would be.
“Jan,” he calls quietly, “Jan-Jan, are you alright?”
If he hears him, he does nothing. He moves closer, stepping into the shower and crouching down.
“Jan-Jan?”
Janus doesn’t flinch, but he’s too still, his breathing too controlled. Fuck. Janus knows he’s here and he’s terrified.
“It’s just me,” he says softly, “it’s just Remus. Are you hurt?”
Still no response. He reaches out to touch his shoulder. Janus reacts to that.
“Whoa, easy,” he soothes when Janus flinches horribly, “I won’t touch you, I won’t touch you, it’s alright.”
He kneels, coming a little closer. Janus still won’t move, won’t speak.
“Janny,” he tries again, “Janny, I can tell you’re bleeding. Let me help you, I won’t be angry if you show me where you’re hurt.”
Janus clutches the blanket tighter. The message is clear; he doesn’t want to move, he doesn’t want to let go. His fingers move a little and he notices that one is badly bruised.
“Snakey, I—easy,” he says, retracting his hand again as he curls tighter, “I’m not trying to take it from you, but you’re hurt, let me help you, please.”
It takes a long time. A long time of murmuring reassurances, a long time of the smell of blood getting stronger and stronger, a long time of wondering how Snakey turned into this frightened creature, before the blanket finally lowers and two eyes poke out over the top.
“Hey, Snakey,” he says softly, smiling and giving him a wave, “want to tell me what’s the matter?”
Janus shakes his head, pressing himself against the shower wall as he clutches the blanket tightly under his chin. Remus swallows a gasp of dismay at his split lip, bruised cheek, and red-rimmed eyes.
“Do you want to show me where else you’re hurt instead?”
Janus shakes his head again, harder this time, and a loose thread gets stuck on his bleeding lip.
“No?” Janus winces when the thread stays there. “Here, let me…”
His eyes go wide as Remus’s hand starts to move.
“I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs, “I promise, I’ll be quick.”
His chest aches as Janus watches his hand like it’s about to bite him, tenderly moving the thread back from his mouth and snapping it away.
“There, that’s better, isn’t it? Oh, you poor thing,” he whispers as fresh tears roll down Janus’s cheeks, “let me help, please?”
Please, Snakey, let me help you.
Janus moves slowly. Too slowly. Every single inch he manages to claw back looks like it aches, his split lip permanently curled into a snarl. If Remus peers close enough, he thinks he can see frost clinging to some of Janus’s scales.
And the blood is coming from somewhere deep within the folds of the fabric.
“Jan,” he says, “we need to get you to Logan, you’re hurt.”
Janus shakes his head, pulling away when Remus tries to help him up.
“Okay, okay,” he says, trying not to ruin the little bit of trust he’s managed to earn, “I won’t touch you, I won’t touch you.”
He glances over his shoulder. At some point, someone is going to come looking for both of them. And that is going to go about as well as—well, it isn’t. It won’t.
“Why didn’t you go somewhere warm first,” he asks gently, “what happened?”
Janus doesn’t respond but his grip on the blanket tightens. He frowns.
“Did…something happen to the blanket?” Janus shakes his head. “Then why…”
Oh. Oh, fuck.
He can just imagine what Janus would expect the others to do if they found out Janus has a comfort object and that it’s a blanket.
Not that they ever would! Patton’s bed is full of stuffed animals, Logan can’t sleep without a galaxy pillowcase on his bed, Remus clings to his Morningstar like another limb, Virgil’s relationship with sleep is complicated at best, and Roman has a blanket too.
“But you didn’t know that,” he whispers to himself as he watches Janus curl up miserably, “did you?”
Janus doesn’t respond. Remus bites back a curse.
“You’re mad.”
He blinks, startled, and looks down. “Huh?”
“You’re mad,” Janus mumbles again, clutching the blanket tightly.
“…yeah, I am,” he says quietly, suppressing noises of concern when he curls tighter, “but not like that, and not right now.”
Janus looks up at him warily. “…no?”
“No. Come on, now,” he continues, frowning when he winces, “come with me to get you warm, please, Snakey.”
Janus just curls up tighter.
“If I brought Logan here, just Logan,” Remus tries, “will you let him look at you? I don’t have to be here, I can go, but—please, Jan-Jan, you’re hurt. Like, real bad, I can tell.”
The time it takes for Janus to shakily nod is quite possibly the longest twenty seconds of Remus’s life.
“Okay,” Remus breathes out, scrambling to his feet, “okay, I’ll get Lolo.”
He dashes out into the hall, down the stairs, almost smack into Logan.
“Remus,” he scolds, “watch where you’re going. What—“
“I found Janny,” he whispers, cutting Logan off, “he’s hurt. You need to come with me.”
Logan draws himself up immediately, snapping the first aid kit into his hands. “Where?”
“This way.”
The look on Remus’s face is enough to tell Roman to keep the others here, which he does by promptly picking up one of the blankets they’ve scavenged from around and wrapping them all in it, pulling them into his lap. Remus nods in thanks and leads Logan up the stairs. He nods to the bathroom.
“He’s in there,” he says softly, “be gentle.”
“I will.”
Logan takes a deep breath and opens the door.
His breathing catches when he spots the little heap of Janus nestled in the corner of the shower, exhale somewhere between a sigh and a noise of concern as Janus peers over his blanket.
“Hello,” he says softly, crouching down outside the shower, “I’m here to help. Can I come over to you?”
Janus doesn’t take his eyes off of him but he nods.
“Thank you. I’m going to go slow so I don’t make too much noise, is that alright? Alright, I’m going to move now.”
When he’s crouched in front of Janus, he can see why Remus was so anxious to get him here. Janus isn’t hypothermic just yet, but he’s hovering on the edge. The smell of blood is strong enough to be worrying, not enough to make him panic.
“I know it’s cold,” he says, “and I know you can’t move very much, but I need to make sure you won’t bleed out or deteriorate at a faster rate. I need you to move a little for me, just so I can see. Does that sound okay?”
A low whine and he shushes him tenderly.
“If you can’t move, that’s alright, I can help. Is that it?” Janus nods. “Alright. Can I touch you, please?”
Janus looks up at him, gaze piercing, as he curls around his blanket. Logan holds his hands up, empty, and waits. When Janus nods again, he reaches forward and gently, gently lays his hands on Janus’s shoulders.
“Shh,” he murmurs as Janus shakes from the heat, “shh, my dear, you’re doing great. I know, it’s a lot, but we have to get you warm, alright?”
Of course, the warmth just increases Janus’s ability to shiver. Logan hushes him soothingly and slowly, slowly moves to pull Janus’s arms away from his body.
“Lean on me if you need to, I’m warmer than you are, that’s alright, I won’t mind.” Logan peers at Janus’s stomach, seeing the blood drying where the scales meet flesh. “Alright, it doesn’t look like you’ve hurt yourself too badly, it’s just the temperature differential causing a little bit of wear and tear.”
Janus is shivering properly now, two of his hands still clinging to his blanket.
“You can’t stay here,” Logan says firmly, “we need to get you warm. If I help you, do you think you can make it to your bed or do you need me to carry you?”
Janus’s lower lip trembles. His brow furrows, mouth drawn into a hard line. He averts his gaze.
“You’re not being needy,” he continues, softening his voice, “I’m here because I want to be here. I want to help you, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. Let me help you, my dear.”
The shock on Janus’s features is enough to make Logan want to summon Roman, who would smother the poor dear in enough affection to drown them all. Just to make Janus believe someone would. But he swallows that need and waits for Janus to figure out that he isn’t lying.
When Janus begins to shyly nudge closer to Logan he smiles, wrapping Janus carefully into his arms and standing, muttering something to Remus about making sure Janus’s room is ready.
Sure enough, when they’ve made their way through the Mindscape, Janus’s bed has a sterile sheet laid across it, warm pads at the ready, and plenty of surgical towels nearby if they’re needed. Janus’s breath is almost torn out of him as Logan crosses the threshold into the warmer room.
“You’re going to be fine,” he murmurs, laying Janus down on his bed. “But I do need to come and clean you off a bit while we warm you up, alright?”
Moving Janus’s arms out of the way is a process, one he sends Remus out of the room for, filled with soft coaxing murmurs as he gently manipulates the stiff limbs.
“You’re doing well, dear, we’re almost there. I know it’s cold, it will hurt less after a moment.”
Janus opens his mouth and tries to say something, only for air to hit his bare torso and it turns into a whine.
“Shh, hush now, dear,” Logan says softly as he begins to clean off the dried blood, “it’s alright. Once you warm up it will feel better. I’m just going to put something on the damages and then we’ll be done.”
“L-Logan—“
“What is it?”
Janus’s eyes are glassy, he realizes, as he looks up to his face. He lets out a concerned noise, reaching up to cup Janus’s face. Janus all but nuzzles into his palm as he does, a shiver racking his body.
“You poor dear,” Logan murmurs, mostly to himself, “you poor, poor dear…”
It ends up taking a little longer than he expected, what with only one hand, but if it keeps Janus grounded, Logan would happily take the rest of the day. It doesn’t come to that, thankfully, as he clears away the last of the medical supplies and gives Janus’s face a little shake.
“Janus? Janus, can you hear me?”
Logan’s face swims into view as Janus blinks away tears that he definitely knows where they came from. Logan’s hand is so warm, it’s so warm, as it cups his face, the soft stroking of his thumb systematically undoing every stitch of Janus’s defenses.
“Can you hear me, my dear?”
Janus nods on instinct, a wounded noise tearing from his throat as Logan’s hand leaves him.
“Hush, now, I’m not going anywhere. I just need to put this aside…there. I’m back, my dear, I’m right here.”
The warm hand is back on his face as the insecurity twists anew in his chest.
What is he doing?
“Shh, none of that now,” Logan chides, “I’m here because I want to be here, remember?”
“‘M not—“ he swallows— “I’m not supposed to be like this.”
“And I’m supposed to be cool, aloof, and uncaring,” Logan says wryly, brushing a stray tear from Janus’s cheek, “and Remus is supposed to be horrible and demented.”
“I can hear you!”
He gives Janus a look like ‘see what I mean?’ “So don’t worry about the roles we play right now, dear, it’s alright.”
Janus swallows again, a massive lump in his throat.
“Is that why you hid,” Logan asks softly, “because you couldn’t separate us from our roles?”
Fat shameful tears bubble at the corner of his eyes.
“Oh, none of that, it’s alright, my dear, shh, shh, oh, come now, don’t cry, don’t cry, I’m trying to make it better, not worse, hush now…oh, you poor thing…”
Janus can’t hear anything over the roar of blood in his ears and the soft slide of Logan’s hand against his face. His breath is coming in great whooping gasps.
“Janus,” Logan says firmly, “stop.”
Janus freezes.
“Good. Now breathe.”
Janus breathes. Logan’s hand, on his shoulder, now, still dry and warm through his cloak, presses down firmly.
“There,” he says, softer now, “that’s better. Just keep doing that, then we can figure out what to do next.”
Janus squeezes his eyes shut, something cold closing into a fist around his heart as Logan pulls away. He wrenches himself into a seated position, starting slightly at the rush in his head. He keeps his eyes shut until he can blink them open, seeing Logan there, watching him carefully.
“Janus?”
“My apologies,” he says, surprised at how smooth his voice comes out, “I appreciate your assistance, but it is no longer necessary. You may leave now.”
He pushes himself to his feet and tries to make it to the door, only for it to fly open, and Remus bursts in.
“Oh, thank fuck,” he sighs as he takes two steps and wraps his arms tightly around him.
Janus’s eyes go wide. The door closes behind Remus as warm warm warm too warm not warm enough don’t let go please let go it hurts it hurts oh fuck don’t stop—
He needs it to go on forever and he needs it to stop.
“Remus,” Logan says after a moment, “Remus, let him breathe.”
Remus lets him go but keeps his hands on his shoulders. Janus is shaking, staring at Remus like he can’t process what’s happening as fat tears begin to roll down his cheeks again. Remus lets out a noise of concern, reaching up to wipe them away.
“It’s okay, Jan-Jan,” he says quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear, “it’s gonna be okay.”
Janus’s face crumbles and he stumbles, scrabbling for Remus’s shoulders for support. Remus scoops him into his arms as he clings desperately to him, walking swiftly to the bed and laying him down as carefully as he can. He scrabbles frantically for his blanket, coiling around it and sobbing desperately into it.
“Ah,” comes the soft voice, “I see.”
“See? See what—oh!”
“Go and tell the others, I can keep an eye on him for now.”
Janus can’t tell what’s happening until he feels warm arms around him.
Logan, Logan, wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him into a hug. His eyes go wide as a sudden flood of warm warm warm solid Logan safe warm care love protection hits him, but none of it takes away from the fact that Logan is hugging him.
Distantly, he hears Remus chuckle as he starts to make his way down the hallway but then Logan’s hand comes up to press his head into the crook of his shoulder and he keens.
“Shh, dear one,” he murmurs, “it’s alright, I’m here, I’ll take care of you.”
His hands clench and unclench in the blanket, unsure of what to do, where to put them, until Logan holds him a little tighter.
“You can touch me, Janus, you can hug me, I don’t mind. Come, now…”
Shakily, he returns the embrace and has to hold back a whimper at the rush of warmth. He feels more than hears the rumble of Logan’s chuckle.
“There you go, dear one, that’s it. Hang onto me, now, that’s right.”
“B-but—I thought—you—“
“You can always come to me for this, Janus,” Logan reassures softly, “I will always take care of you.”
Janus lets out another shuddering breath against Logan’s neck and it’s too much.
“I doubt you’re going to get used to touch if you continue to deprive yourself of it,” he coaxes, pulling Janus closer. “Breathe, dear one, it’s alright, I’m not going anywhere.” He rubs his back. “Just let me take care of you.”
“Wh-where did—Remus—“
“The others are worried, dear, we couldn’t find you. No, no—none of that,” he says as Janus tries to mumble out another apology— “you were afraid and protecting yourself, we can’t be mad at you for that. Remus is letting them know we found you.”
“C-Can—“
“Do you want them to come here? Come help look after you?” When Janus nods shyly and buries his face in the crook of Logan’s neck, he holds him closer. “Alright. Can I call them now?”
Of course, when Logan does call for them, he has about two seconds before Remus is tackling the both of them onto the bed.
“Remus.”
“You got to hog him to yourself, let me have a turn.”
“Be careful.”
“He’s durable.” But Remus softens and scratches a hand through Janus’s hair. “Hey, Snakey.”
“Hi.”
“Pat, move.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going.” Janus lets out a soft noise when Patton and Virgil curl up near the foot of the bed, tucking blankets and pillows into place as Janus moves. “Hey, sweetheart, you okay now?”
“Mhm.”
“We’re just gonna keep watch down here, J, we gotcha.”
The sheet beneath him changes, something softer, warmer. Then the pillows get a little easier to touch, the blankets no longer scraping against his scales. He catches a glimpse of soft red sparks as another pillow changes and looks up to see Roman’s brow furrowed in concentration as he works.
He catches Janus’s gaze and softens, reaching out to carefully set Janus’s hat aside and ruffle his hair.
“Hello, little snake. You just shush and get warm, hmm?”
“Ro—Roman?”
“It’s me, just me. I’m just making things a little easier, you close your eyes.” When Janus keeps staring at him, he raises an eyebrow and gently drags a finger down the bridge of Janus’s nose to make his eyes flutter shut. “There, that’s better. Let us keep an eye on you, now.”
Well, between Logan’s arm around his waist, Remus’s hand in his hair, Patton and Virgil camped at the foot of the bed, and Roman patiently checking the wound on his stomach, Janus isn’t going to be going anywhere any time soon.
Keeping track of Janus at the best of times may be an ordeal, but if he thinks it’s not one they would gladly go through, he’s lying to himself.
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bangtangalicious · 3 years
Text
the glow up (7) | pjm, kth
pairing: taehyung x reader, jimin x reader
summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure
genre: smut, childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au
word count: 6.6k (oops)
warnings: multiple smut scenes, unprotected sex, doggy style, love-making, daddy kink+impreg kink+praise kink if you squint, toxic behavior, cheating, unhealthy relationship dynamics, emotional sex, oral (f receiving), alcohol-abuse, public sex/exhibitionism, a whole lot of kissing 
part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7                                              masterlist
“I need to tell you something Tae” Taehyung used to always generally wonder what it would be like to be shot with a gun. He wondered if the pain was quick, or if it was constant. “Jimin asked me out, and I said yes”
Wait. How did he even get here? Taehyung’s vision was blurred. He was not entirely sure he was even conscious, the temperature and humidity exorbitantly high in the enclosed shower. Something carnal had overcome him, as though he saw the opportunity to claim his prize and he ravished for it, pushing aside all inhibitions in the process. That prize was you. But the second you said the words he so badly craved, his heart plummeted. The tone. The look on your face. None of it was right. You had quickly retracted everything you said, barely giving him a minute to relish in it.
He tried to kiss you softly, trying to act like everything was perfect and he was satisfied with you. He tried to suppress the newfound ache he felt deep in his veins, focusing instead on your hot wet body pressed up against him with no space to breathe.
At least Jimin had seen it. That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? Taehyung glanced back at the boy who was almost lifelessly sitting on the bathroom floor, tears escaping his pained eyes, but not a sound.
“I’m so sorry” You exhaled, bringing him back to reality. Taehyung smiled, hugging you close but maintaining his gaze on Jimin. He couldn’t handle a confrontation right now. He was exhausted, dizzy and needed to get some sleep. “I need to tell him…I…I fucked up.” Was this all a dream?
Jimin quietly rose from where he had collapsed, and before you could see that he saw everything, he backed out of the room, an intense stare locked on Taehyung’s now drooping eyes. Taehyung could barely stand straight, the alcohol kicking in hard now. His head ached, and he felt like everything around him was slowing down. He shut his eyes, letting the warm darkness of ignorance envelop him.
-
The scent of fall was always so refreshing. It reminded you that soon you would be returning to campus, where your real life lay, and your little bubble fantasy would come to an end. And in this case, you wished that it would come sooner. You missed the days where your biggest concern was an upcoming paper due, or if you would be able to land an interview.
You were at the local market with you ran into the person you least expected to see. Jungkook.
“Well hi there hottie” Jungkook winked. You felt a bitter taste in your mouth as he chuckled, “I’m kidding…chill. What’s up?” He came over to your cart, leaning casually against it.
“Shopping” You muttered trying to express your discomfort. Jungkook cleared his throat.
“Listen Y/n, I’m really sorry about everything this summer. You and I were friends, and I disrespected you. I know sorry doesn’t undo it but, I really do feel bad about it all”
“O..okay” You shrugged, his apology making you all the more uncomfortable “If you’ll excuse me…”
“Taehyung really misses you.” He blurted, “Why did you suddenly just stop talking to him?
You scoffed, “He knows”
“He doesn’t. He really doesn’t remember anything Y/n. He didn’t know you were dating Jimin until a few days ago when I brought it up because I saw his insta story”
You blushed slightly, remembering the sweet picnic Jimin had taken you on. You had come clean to Jimin, and surprisingly he had not been upset with you. He simply agreed that perhaps you guys were neither at a place to be in a relationship, and that your friendship was far too important to risk.
You two decided at least for the time being, to stay friends. Ever since then, you had been able to hang out with him normally. His only caveat being that you stop seeing Taehyung.
“Anyone but him Y/n…please” Jimin had pleaded. Your heart clenched. You had only just begun to entertain the idea of Taehyung as something more than a fuckbuddy, but now that door was closed before it even opened.
You rolled your eyes at Jungkook, “We’re not dating.”
“Okay then why can’t you go see Taehyung? He’s been calling you like crazy, he’s asked me to call you. He’s so confused” You would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t thought about it. That you hadn’t been constantly thinking about it. Your lack of response prompted Jungkook to continue, “Y/n…I’ve literally never seen him like this okay. He hasn’t been doing anything. He hasn’t been hooking up…or even talking to anyone else anymore. He barely eats, he just sits in bed being a pathetic wimp all day. Least you could do is give him an explanation”
“Jimin doesn’t want me to talk to him. That’s what it took”
“God how are you even friends with this prick?” Jungkook scoffed, “Jimin can suck a tree truck ok, what do you want to do?” You simply shrugged. You hadn’t really even asked yourself that. You were an absolute mess and you hated it. But Taehyung never minded. He saw the mess, and instead of trying to clean you up he embraced the mess you were, seeing what was beneath all of it, just a girl who wanted to be cherished. Someone who wanted to be celebrated. Yes, you liked attention. Yes, you liked being adored. Taehyung checked off every box.
You sighed, “Ok, I’ll call him” Jungkook pouted “Fine. I’ll go see him” He grinned.
-
Taehyung rolled over, his comforter falling off his bed into a pile on the floor. He groaned into his pillow. He felt pathetic. He was able to harbor his crush for so long and accept the reality that Y/n was not his to have, but now he had a taste. He had become attached. And it hurt like hell.
You had stopped talking to him out of the blue after Hobi’s party. He remembered kissing you in the pool, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing else was coming back to him.
Taehyung had cried so much in the past few days, his skin was absolutely dry. He felt helpless, like he didn’t even get a chance. He wanted to take you on dates. He wanted to kiss you in public, swinging you around like the princess you were. His princess. He wanted to spoil you and see that cute smile of yours. He didn’t want to have sex anymore. Well…he did. The thought of you on his cock was the closest thing to pleasure he felt anymore. But as soon as he remembered he’d never ever have that pleasure again, it would end up hurting even more.
“Tae?” He clenched his eyes shut, preferring to sleep because at least then he could dream that you were there. “Tae it’s me” Your voice was soo soothing to him. He could listen to you all day.
Taehyung jumped suddenly as he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was you. You were actually there. Taehyung quickly wiped his face with his hand and rubbed his eyes to confirm what he was seeing.
“What are you doing here?” Taehyung’s voice was soft, almost broken.
“I owe you an explanation” As soon as you said those words you almost laughed, “Actually, I don’t owe you anything. But you forgot what happened so” Taehyung reached for your hands put you shifted away. His eyes were wide, pleading for just a simple touch.
“Look whatever it is I’m so sorry okay” Taehyung whimpered, trying to reach for you again, watching as the tips of his fingers touched yours. “God I missed you” He looked back up at you. Your heart skipped a beat.
“We fucked. But Jimin had just asked me out and we were drunk. We fucked in a shower and then I told you that it was a mistake. Then you passed out. I told Jimin what happened, and he forgave me but asked that I stop seeing you. Which is fair.” You gulped. “I said I loved you” Taehyung’s hand slid over yours, “I regretted it”
You could feel him trembling. “Really?” Taehyung whispered. You nodded before realizing what you had just implied. Taehyung firmly grasps your hand now, pulling you towards him slightly, reaching his other hand to your face and stroking your jaw. He exhales. Your breath hitched as he pulled your face in close. He licked his lips, letting his eyes drop to your lips then back to gaze into your eyes. “Is that a yes for regretting or a yes that you love me?” He looked like heaven, his eyelashes fluttering right before you, a teasing gleam in his gaze. You couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him into you, kissing him desperately.
Taehyung fell on his back, pulling you to straddle him. You dipped your chest, pressing against him as you moaned into the kiss, wanting to feel his warmth as much as possible. He was sweaty from being in bed for so long, but you didn’t care. You ran your fingers through his tangled locks, swallowing his tongue in your mouth. Taehyung gripped your hips, pinching your sides fondly. His fingers pressed into your skin as the slipped under the waistline of your shorts. You gasped for air only for Taehyung to whine, raising himself to meet your lips again before you could even finish a breath.
“Fuck princess” Taehyung hissed as you found a way to wiggle off your tank top, revealing a cute bralette. You maybe had an inkling something like this would go down. Never hurt to be prepared. “You little minx, you knew daddy was gonna fuck you huh?”
You giggled as he sat up and pulled you flush against him, peppering kisses across your chest. He pushed his face into your breasts and paused, inhaling deeply. “So fucking hot” He murmured.
The feeling of his soft hair on your skin made your heart pound insanely fast. He looked up at you, his eyes full of mischief and lust. He pushed you back so he was on top of you now, pulling off his shirt seamlessly. You traced his chest.
He kissed you harshly, biting your lip before moving down your body. He kept his eyes glued to yours as he moved from your lips, down to your neck, your chest, your tits, your stomach, your thighs. Once he reached your knees he stopped and tugged off your shorts and panties.
“Is this for me princess?” His voice was so incredibly soft as it vibrated against your inner thigh. You gulped and nodded. “You look delicious baby…I can’t wait to taste you”
You squealed as his tongue found your clit. His warm tongue knew your pussy well and it showed, as he made you twitch and scream beneath him, hitting all the right places. He ate you out like you were his last meal, carefully savoring every bit of your dripping cunt.
He broke away to lick his lips, smirking at you. “Get on your knees” He ordered. You shivered at the prospect. You got ready for him as he shed the rest of his clothing. His cock was throbbing for you. He gripped your wrists harshly as he positioned himself behind you, leaning over you so his face was buried in the back of your neck.
“You’re so good for me, such a good girl.” He groaned, rolling his hips so that his cock brushed past your ass. His kissed your shoulder fondly. “So perfect mm” He let go of your wrists, pumping his cock before guiding into you. Your hole practically sucked him in. You weren’t as stretched out as you could have been, so you felt the pain as he slowly bottomed out. Taehyung collapsed over you again, kissing your cheek softly and grabbing your breasts.
“Holy fuck you’re tight” He moaned out, savoring the feeling of just being inside of you. He nuzzled into your neck cutely. “All mine. My princess” He kissed your cheek again as he rolled his hips. The contrast was overwhelming. Your heart didn’t know what to feel. The boy of your dreams being an absolute darling while also taking you from behind.
“Is this okay baby?” He thrusted into you harshly, pausing to make sure it didn’t hurt.
“Yeah…more Tae…do more” You whined. Taehyung chuckled, groping you harshly as he flexed his hips again. He loved the way your whole body would jerk under him with every thrust. Your breasts steady in his hands as the rest of you pushed further into the mattress.
You could feel yourself getting lost in the feeling. His sensual grind making your whole body feel fluttery and excited. He felt amazing. His nose traced the nape of your neck. You closed your eyes, savoring the way you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you. “Fuck princess you’re so goddamn tight, just squeezing the fuck out of me”
“Do…do I feel good? Do you like it?” You asked nervously, unsure if you needed to be doing anything differently. You tried to push your ass back as he thrusted to allow him to get even deeper inside of you.
“Of course princess, you feel amazing. You’re so fucking good. So good. Such a good girl for me” Taehyung let out a low growl as his pace sped up, “My little princess, all wet and tight for me, letting me just pound into you like…fuckkk” He cried out as you clenched down on him, feeling a small rush of adrenaline overtake you. You knew you would cum soon, his words turning you on beyond reason.
“Just like that baby…so good…that’s it baby” He urged you on, noticing you getting wetter by the second. The obscene squelching mixed with your loud whimpers filling the room. “Come on princess, I know you wanna cum. Cum for me. Cum for me like the good girl you are” Taehyung’s voice was incredibly sensual, and your brain short circuited. You squealed as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. Your orgasm shaking you to the core, causing you to clamp your cunt tightly around Taehyung’s cock, twitching as you gushed onto him.
“Yes…fuck yes” Taehyung basked in the feeling of your orgasm, fucking you even faster through it. “You feel so good holy fuck” He cried out, his hands leaving your breasts to help hold himself up as his hips began moving insanely fast.
“I’m…” He exhaled, “Gonna….” He slowed down his thrusts, wanting to savor the feeling a bit longer before he burst. “Princess say you love me. Tell me how much you love me”
Your heart swelled, a comforting feeling washing over you at the realization that Taehyung was really yours. That maybe…maybe you were having sex with the guy that would be your boyfriend. You couldn’t keep down a smile.
“I love you Taehyung. I love you. Cum inside me baby. Want you” You choked out. You felt his cock twitch inside you before a hot liquid shoots into your core. Taehyung screams out as he empties inside of you, immediately falling to your side limply.
There was a moment of silence before Taehyung wrapped his arms around you and pulled your naked body into his embrace. He kissed your neck all over, making you giggle and squirm.
“Y/n…will you be my girlfriend” Taehyung asked simply, gazing fondly into your eyes. Reality hit you again.
“I…I can’t”
“If Park Jimin is really your friend, he will support you. A real friend doesn’t tell you who you can or cant see” Taehyung reasoned.
“Yeah but…”
“I love you so much y/n” Taehyung pressed his lips onto your forehead, “Let me show you. I wanna take you out. I wanna get to know you better. Please.”
You sighed. Jimin would be dealt with. Right now all you wanted was to love and be loved by  the man in front of you.
“Okay, yeah. I’ll be your girlfriend”
——-
The next time you saw Jimin, you two had decided to meet up on the beach to go on a run. He arrived, water bottle in hand, ready to burn some steam. You smiled slightly knowing that he would probably have a good workout after you told him the news.
“Jimin”
“Hey” He smiled.
“I want to date Taehyung”
And the smile vanished. Jimin clenched his bottle.
“Let’s jog”  You recommended, and you took off, keeping a slower pace so that you could still talk to Jimin. The brush of the air past you felt refreshing as your heart rate began to pick up. “He really loves me”
“So?”
“So…if you really were my friend why would you stop me from being with someone who cares about me too”
“You know why.” Jimin picked up his speed.
“But Jimin, that’s not really fair” You chased after him. “Please you know I need you, so don’t make me choose”
“I hate him Y/n. I really hate him” Jimin growled, now practically sprinting You took a deep breath and tried to keep up.
“Jimin…slow down” You panted but he kept going.
“Jimin come on, don’t be like this. I’ve never had a boyfriend before can’t you just be excited for me?”
Jimin came to a sudden halt. Your reflexes didn’t catch on fast enough and the next thing you know you crashed into Jimin’s chest. He grabbed you quickly to keep you from falling. The two of you giggled.
Jimin looked into your pleading eyes. He realized that you were right. He had no right to stop you from doing anything. You deserved your firsts. He cared about you so much, how could he ever get in the way of your happiness.
Jimin knew deep down that you had things you needed to work on, and so did he. But the two of you still needed each other as friends. He didn’t want to lose that no matter what.
“I’m sorry Y/n”
“What? No, oh my gosh, you don’t need to be sorry about anything”
“No I’m sorry for being such an immature idiot about all of this. Of course you should date whoever you want to. I’ll always support you” He pinched your cheek affectionately, “You and me are forever.”
You grinned widely, hugging your best friend tightly. “Thank you Jimin”
The two of you took off your sneakers and headed to the water to walk along the shore. The breeze began to turn cold. Jimin noticed you shiver so he pulled his shirt off and tossed it at you, the fabric landing on your face. His scent was suffocating in a good way. You caught the shirt and kicked water at Jimin in retaliation. The competitive spark in his eyes returned as he bent down to grab your hips, lifting you up from behind and swinging you around.
“Jimin!” You laughed. He smiled widely and set you down. You ran ahead of him slightly, throwing the shirt on over your head and feeling the soft warm fabric hug you. Jimin jogged to catch up.
“Okay Mr. Abs. I bet I can race you into the water” You poked his chest playfully, flinching slightly when you realized he was shirtless. Jimin raised his eyebrows.
“Why would you make a bet you know you’ll lose”
“You’re forgetting that the water is going to be ice cold. Unlike you I have clothes on, and a nice layer of fat protecting me” You joke. Jimin rolled his eyes and pinched your sides.
“If you say so” He shrugged, “On your mark…” But you already set off running, the damp sand kicking up as your feet splashed their way towards the ocean. You could hear Jimin complaining behind you and it only made you run faster. Your feet hit the water and it was freezing. You yelped a little at the contact but continued to go in deeper, until the water was up to your knees, weighing the shirt down.
Jimin splashed you and you felt yourself go under the icy waves. You retaliated, pulling him down with you. He got up and shook his hair to get the water off. You looked at each, both soaked and trembling in the cold. Jimin’s expression changed as you felt his eyes scan your body. His shirt was clinging to your sides. He stepped closer to her and let his hands slide to your low back. You looked up at him. You knew that look.
“Jimin” You started but he let go of your instantly.
“Sorry. Sorry. You’re with Tae. I respect that” He backed away. You smiled softly.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be hanging out so much so soon huh” You mumbled.
Jimin nodded, his heart dropping at the thought of not talking to you. “Some space is probably healthy yeah”
“I’ll always be here when you’re ready” You grabbed his hand. He leaned in to kiss the top of your hand.
“I know. I won’t leave you, I promise”
Taehyung helped you move back to campus. When it was time for him to leave, he suddenly understood the weight of a long distance relationship. The reality that he wouldn’t get to hold you every night. That you would be living a different life, one he knew nothing about. But moreso that he had a different life too. One where he was never tied down, let alone to someone who wasn’t around.
You were worth it though, he reminded himself. He waited in the lobby for you to come down from your apartment to see him off. He spotted you in elevator, chatting with your neighbor, some guy named Namjoon. The guy was really attractive, even Taehyung found himself checking out his ass. He watched your behavior carefully, pursing his lips as you ended the conversation and came to him.
“Hey. You all set to go?” Taehyung cleared his throat.
“Yeah…” He kissed your lips softly, “I’m gonna get going now…bye princess” You hugged him tightly, kissing one last time before you watching Taehyung leave.
Long distance was tough, but manageable. He would send naughty texts to help you get off every now and then. You still called Jimin practically every day, and things went on as normal. You wondered if you should have been missing Taehyung more, but it wasn’t as if he was ever really that big of a part of your life. You probably just needed to adjust.
It was because of this though that you didn’t notice that Taehyung had stopped calling as often, stopped sending flirty texts and instead replacing them with short “ok” “cool” “nice”. If you had noticed, you might have realized he was trying to get your attention. He wanted you to miss him like he was missing you. Until finally he couldn’t take it anymore.
-
Jimin took a sip of his beer. Winter break was just around the corner. You and him made plans with all of your friends to go to Mexico and enjoy a beach resort, and he couldn’t wait. He remembered then that you now were dating Taehyung, meaning he would have to see you all over him, and probably hear every detail about everything you’ll do with him. He smirked.
Jimin had been hurt for a while after you started dating Taehyung, but eventually he realized that it was the right thing for you at the time. It was your first relationship, and Taehyung was a good person to explore yourself with. He respected you guys, and repaired your friendship slowly but surely. By the time you guys returned to campus, it was as if the drama never happened. You two facetimed every day. You knew every details of his college life and he yours.
Jimin reflected on himself after everything that happened. He realized that he had unhealthily manifested his insecurities into you. He wanted to be better, not just for you, but for himself. He wanted to feel comfortable in his own skin. Confident in himself, his looks, everything so he wouldn’t be paranoid the next time something like this happened. He had been working really hard on himself the past few months. Working out, but also meditating, making more time for himself, dealing with his insecurities and overcoming them. He made small changes to his lifestyle in order to be the person he wanted to be.
He even went out with a few girls, and was able to get some experience trying to date. None of them turned out to be anything serious, but he was now content with himself, even if he was single.
Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook all went to the same university. One that was more local to your hometown than the one you did. Jimin didn’t hang out with them too much while school was going on. They were studying different things, ran with different crowds. Had different lives. Every now and then they might have grabbed coffee, but they were all pretty busy.
So when Jimin runs into Jungkook at a house party, he is decently surprised. Jungkook fists bumps him. “Hey man. How’ve you been?”
Jimin shrugged.
“So did you and Y/n finally get together after she and Tae broke up?”
Jimin tilted his head. He had literally spoken to you earlier today and that was definitely not the case. “What? They didn’t break up”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows, “You sure? Taehyung’s been bringing home a new one almost every night.” Jimin’s mouth went dry.
“W…what?” He growled. Jungkook noticed and put his hands up in defense.
“Hey, maybe they’re in an open relationship. He doesn’t seem emotionally attached to them…they’re just bodies” Jimin inhaled sharply.
“Where is he?”
“Jimin, just chill okay it’s not any of our business”
“I fucking asked you where he is”
Jungkook sighed and motioned for him to follow. They went up the stairs, Jimin wasn’t even sure who’s house they were in. Jungkook arrived at a door in a back hallway and looked at Jimin as he slowly twisted the door knob.
Taehyung was butt naked, pounding some sorority girl from behind. Jimin’s blood was boiling, but Jungkook was strong and held him back from going in and breaking his neck. His heart clenched, picturing how hurt you would be. Knowing you, you would think it’s your fault for not being enough. That’s so not true. Jimin gritted his teeth.
Jungkook quickly closed the door and pulled Jimin back.
“How long has he been doing this?” Jimin growled once the two of them put some distance between them and the door. “How long has he been cheating on her?”
“I don’t know if it’s really cheating…He still talks about her like she’s his girlfriend”
“He can’t just fuck other people”
“Ahhh, Taehyung’s just like that. He needs to be touched. He really cares about her though I’m sure”
“Maybe” Jimin spat, “But she deserves so much more than that” Jungkook sighed. This wasn’t his fight. He went back and knocked on the door.
“Taehyung. Come out here for a minute”
A haphazard Taehyung stumbled out of the room, midway through putting his shirt back on. His eyes were shot, and he was clearly intoxicated. “What Kook? She was about to let me put it in her ass…” Taehyung noticed Jimin and went quiet. Jungkook remained between the two boys, placing his hand on Jimin’s chest to ensure he didn’t move.
“How could you do this to her?” Jimin yelled angrily. “After all the fucking chaos you put her…put both of us through this summer…why did you do all of that if you were just going to cheat on her?”
Taehyung bit his lip and looked at the ground, “I don’t know” He met Jimin’s glare, “Stop fucking making me the bad guy. I did everything for her and she still doesn’t let me in.”
Jimin scoffed, “She gushes about you CONSTANTLY. She’s always so happy when you call. But you…you’re just…ugh”
Taehyung gulped.  
“Didn’t you love her? Isn’t that why you convinced her to go against me, her best friend, to be with you?”
“I do love her.” Taehyung muttered, “But this isn’t high school anymore. Her life at college is different. I’m different. She was my high school crush, but now this is my real life. This is who I am here. I party, I fuck, I drink. I’m not gonna change that for her. At college she…she’s confident. She doesn’t need me. I need her to need me.”
“Then break up with her like a man. Don’t fucking cheat you asshole” Jimin growled, pushing against Jungkook’s grip.
“I don’t want to” Jimin almost leaped over Jungkook, pushing past him to clench Taehyung’s collar.
“You don’t want to? Well fuck, then prepare to be dumped because I’m sure as hell telling her”
Taehyung chuckled, “You’re such a simp. She’s not gonna believe you. You’ve been praying for us to break up”
Jimin shoved Taehyung back. “No. I respected you both. I helped her deal with you all these months. I supported her. Your first few fights, I was the one who reasoned with her. Whether or not she’s dating you, she’s my best friend.”
“Yeah and there’s a reason she picked me. You insecure, misogynistic piece of shit”
Jimin laughed, “I’m insecure? It’s like you said. People change. Except most of us get more mature, while you just continued to be the exact sleaze bag I always thought you were”
Taehyung said nothing. Jungkook pursed his lips.
“He’s right Tae” Jungkook finally pitched in, “Even I stopped fucking around as much as I used to, and I’m not in a relationship or anything. It’s time to grow up. You’ve got issues buddy”
“I’m the best thing that’s happened to her. And she has the audacity to take me for granted. Her. Take me for granted. Not have time for me. I’m Kim motherfucking Taehyung. I can get anyone on my cock without even trying. Who the fuck is Y/n to ignore me” Taehyung barked. Jimin slapped him harshly.
“Call her right now. Or I will”
-
It was new years eve. Taehyung had come clean about cheating on you. Your heart had been shattered for a while. Jimin flew all the way to your campus to spend a few days with you, holding you as you cried your soul out.
After a while you began to pick yourself up. You reflected on yourself a lot, on the relationship you had. You realized that being with Taehyung had been a burden. You felt pressure to meet a certain standard to be deserving of him. You didn’t want to live like that anymore.
You wanted to be unapologetically you. Both you and Jimin decided to focus on yourselves as independent people. You pushed each other and held each other accountable. Sometimes you wondered who you would be if you didn’t have someone like him in your life. Someone to encourage you every step of the way.
Jimin began dating, and you did feel a little jealous. But at the same time you were happy for him. He deserved the experience as much as you did. You two would talk night after night about relationships, what you liked and what you didn’t like. What you wanted and what you didn’t.
Finally winter break came around. Taehyung had been decent enough to pull out of the trip after the two of you ended your relationship. Hobi had rented out a beautiful resort. From the second you landed and saw Jimin, things had been incredibly flirty. He was teasing you endlessly, playing with you in the pool, roasting you in front of your friends. You cheeks were constantly flushed whenever he was around.
And in the humid nights he would find you on the beach, cuddling with you in a hammock, letting you read some stupid health articles to him.
“Yeah so apparently drinking chlorophyll is really good for clearing your skin” You read off of your phone. Jimin ’s face was nuzzled into your shoulder. He hummed in response but you knew he was really asleep. “I definitely have to try that. You aren’t even listening are you?”
He groaned, “God shut up y/n” He lazily grabbed your phone from you and threw it on the ground, wrapping his arms around you before you could try to reach for it. “Fuck chlorophyll, your skin is perfect. So soft” He tightened his hold on you. You couldn’t help but smile ear to ear.
You turned around to face him. His eyes were closed, thick lips partially parted. You suddenly felt so emotional. You thought back to when the two of you were just kids. Clueless, outcast, weird. You always had each other.
This was you soulmate wasn’t it? Your heart glowed in fondness. You traced Jimin’s lips carefully.
“Y/n” He mumbled, eyes still closed.
“Jimin” You exhaled softly, brushing the loose strands of his now brown hair aside. “I love you”
Jimin’s eyes shot open. You could feel tears in your eyes as Jimin blinked in surprise. “I…I love you too”
It was as simple as that. You closed your eyes and leaned in to kiss those plush lips, getting lost in the giddy feeling that was building inside you. You felt like a kid again, just so incredibly happy and safe. Jimin pulled away, lingering close to you.
“We’ve never…properly fucked” He confessed. You laughed.
“Yeah…I guess we haven’t.”
“Still into that kinky public sex?” He teased, nipping at your nose. You pushed him playfully causing the hammock to swivel.
“Maybe.”
“Good” His voice became sultry. He rolled off of the hammock and helped you off too, pulling you down onto the soft sand. The sun had just barely set, so it was still faintly light out, and a few people remained on the beach.
“Here?” You giggled. “We’re gonna get fined”
Jimin shrugged. “I don’t care. I wanna show everyone you’re mine” He kissed your neck affectionately. “Do you want that? Do you want me to show everyone what a good girl you are for me? Stuffed full of my big cock under me where you belong” He whispered sweet nothings, making your tremble in anticipation.
He sensually ran his fingers down your body, lingering on the parts of you that had you whining the most. He untied your bikini and watched it barely slide off of you.
“God you’re hot” He licked his lips. You placed a palm on his six pack and winked at him.
“So are you”
Jimin latched his mouth onto your breast and let his hands find your cunt, fingers playing with you lightly. He let his tongue flick against you before he sucked you like a child. You whined, knowing full well how much you liked that.
“Such pretty tits…” He mumbled, before kissing his way up your chest to find your lips again.
He kissed you repeatedly, taking his time to savor the taste of you. You could feel his hardon rub against your thigh. You wrapped you legs around his waist to try to press against him more, making him moan into your mouth.
“Jimin…please” You whined, “I need you”
“Where baby? Hm? You want me to stuff you with my cock? You want it? Want me to fuck you, squirt my cum into you, knock you up so good fuck” He rolled his hips, his clothed crotch rubbing right up against your core. “You’d be so pretty, all swollen because of me.” His hands found your stomach and squeezed it slightly. You felt your face get hot.
“Gonna fuck you every damn day” He said breathlessly, grinding into you harshly. He somehow slid off his swim trunks, allowing his long cock to bounce up in anticipation. “You taste so sweet…feel so good”
You reached down to stroke his cock as he continued to kiss you. “Put it in” You pleaded.
Jimin nodded, kissing you chastely one last time before lining himself up with your entrance. He carefully watched your face as he pushed in all in one thrust.
“Shit” You blurted out, “You’re so big” Jimin smirked, leaning back down to you and biting your lip softly.
“Mmm yeah. I know” He winked at you. He grabbed your ass and fondled them as he thrust into you. “Holy…shit…Y/n…” His words were broken between his quickening thrusts.
“Sssh” You whispered, “Someone will see us, just hurry up”
“You feel so good” Jimins voice wavered. You wrapped your arms around his neck to press as close to him as you possibly could, feeling his whole body move against you in a sensual rhythm. You let out a loud moan and he quickly locked lips with you again, muffling the sound. You could practically hear people talking near you, and your mind wandered to what the sight of Jimin fucking you must look like to others. So shameless. Your pussy clenched.
“You’re so beautiful” Jimin whispered, his lips not leaving yours. His thrusts became deeper as he gazed into your eyes. You panted against him, his hand coming to cup your face as his cock went deeper and deeper inside of you.
“So are you” You managed to say, mimicking his gesture, letting your thumb trace his bottom lip. He stop momentarily to get lost in another deep kiss. He then licked his finger and reached down to your clit, rubbing it softly and observing your reactions.
You squirmed, feeling your body teasing you just at the threshold of your orgasm. Half of you trying to hold back and savor the euphoric rush you felt while the other wanted to let go.
“Come on baby, cum for me” Jimin whispered, “Cum for me and scream so that everyone here knows who’s fucking you down so good” Your breath hitched and you came more strongly than ever before. You let out a high pitched gasp that was bound to have turned some heads. But you didn’t care.
“Fuck that was so hot” Jimin relished in how wet you had become, washing his cock slide in out of you effortlessly. He pulled out suddenly and brought his cock to your lips. You obediently opened your mouth, allowing him to cum into your mouth.
“Excuse me sir.” You heard a voice behind you. Jimin quickly pulled his shorts on and layed over you to cover your body. One of the resort workers approached you. “We’ve received a few complaints of public indecency, would you mind please taking…this…to your suite?”
Jimin blushed and nodded. “Yes, of course. Sorry” The worker bowed slightly and left as quickly as he came. Jimin and you stared at each other before you burst out laughing. He kissed your forehead.
“Let’s go” He fixed your bikini back onto you, teasing you slightly as he tied your bra.
He let you jump onto his back and he gave you a piggy back ride back inside the resort where the rest of your friends were gathered around drinking.
“Damn if it isn’t the hottest couple in town” Hobi whistled. Both you and Jimin blushed.
You made your way back to Jimin’s suite.
“So”
“So”
You giggled, “I love you”
“I love you too baby”
“Another round?”
“Hell yeah”
A/N: that’s the end! please let me know what you think/reactions! pls dont kill me for not having taehyung win lolol, again the point was that a glow up is internal not external...hopefully that got across idk. its def not my favorite concept either so im excited to get started on new stuff. i did jimin so dirty in this i gotta make up for that lmaooo. plus namjoon’s thighs are just...on my mind lately. thank you all for reading it means a lot <3 and remember that everyone is beautiful and amazing :) check out my other works if you want! 
Taglist: @honeyspillings  @hollowtree10 @princessswan​
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Text
The Cliff
Content Warnings: merman whump, storms, washed ashore, trouble breathing, injury, bruises, heat whump, exhaustion
Blue’s Tag List: @deluxewhump @midwinter-wump @briars7 @0idril0
Author’s Notes: I’ve been sitting on this one for a while...it was sitting 99% finished in a google doc that I forgot about. :’) Not my best but hey...I wrote, right?
It was loosely inspired by this image (CW - image contains gore and partial nudity) but changed a lot once I started writing.
----
Weak keens fill the misty morning air over the ocean.
They go unheard. Unanswered.
The water is fairly calm, waves lapping gently against the rocks that jut out here and there, starting small and growing larger the closer they get to the cliffside.
But the night before they were anything but calm. The hurricane had raged for hours, stirring the sea and whipping the trees on land about. By morning debris was strewn across pebbly beaches and floated on the water’s surface.
Some creatures did not make it, a handful of unlucky fish and birds. But most had seen it coming and sought shelter.
One unlucky creature, though, had neither found shelter in time nor been killed. Either one would have been more merciful than this.
Blue is strong, and a good swimmer. His confidence in this was his downfall; he stayed too close to the surface for too long, even when the skies above grew dark and every creature around had fled. By the time he started to head for home it was too late. The churning water picked up speed and force. He tried and tried to swim away but was no match. Soon he grew exhausted, until he had no choice left but to give in to the surging ocean.
The waves lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped, tossed his body mercilessly about, his tail a flash of blue against ominous gray. In their relentless course towards land, they brought the half-conscious merman towards the rocks.
The first violent slam of his back to hard stone knocked him out cold. This was at least a small mercy. He slid with a moan back into the grip of the waves only for them to lift and slam him again and again and again, battering his limp body.
As the storm picked up, the waves grew higher and higher until they crashed against the side of the cliff. They carried the merman with them, and with one roaring wave, threw his body into the hard, uneven surface.
When that wave subsided, Blue was not pulled back down with it. Instead he had been thrown into a crevice between large chunks of rock, wedged at his hips where his tail is thickest. The force of each new wave only served to keep him there until he was firmly stuck.
The storm raged on.
And then it slowed, and slowed some more…
And then dawn came.
And then Blue woke.
----
The first thing he registers is the harshness of daylight even through his shut eyes. He groans and tries to turn away from it, only to find himself unable to move. The attempted motion sends a sharp twinge up his back.
One by one each ache makes itself known; his back, his horribly bruised chest, ribs, one shoulder, one side of his face, his hips, all along his tail. The scrapes and cuts that sting in the open air...
Air...
He forces his eyes open, flinching with a sharp gasp as one swollen eye only opens partway. The throb in his eye and cheek spreads to his head, making it pound relentlessly, and the sunlight isn’t helping.
But why - why is he in the air, not water…
When his blurry vision clears he feels a terror he has never known. Not only is he out of the water, but he is high above the ocean.
The merman panics. His gills - barely damp by now - flare wide and retract, searching for something they will not find. After a moment of terror as he starts to suffocate, he remembers to breathe through his mouth and takes a ragged gasp.
His squirming and labored breathing set his injuries ablaze. Opening his mouth hurts his battered face; expanding his lungs sends sharp pangs across his bruised ribs and chest.
Stuck and scared and hurting, completely helpless in the open air, he keens. His cries are sorrow, regret, a call for help.
Of course no one hears him. No merfolk would be near the surface when they could be hunting in the aftermath of the storm. Even if someone came, what could they do for him? But it doesn’t stop him from wailing until his throat is raw.
Soon the sun is above the horizon and beating down on the merman. As if his bruised and broken skin hadn’t been through enough, the light and air dry away what little moisture the final waves had left him with. He draws shallow breaths no matter how they hurt, fighting to survive.
Blue gets a small reprieve in the form of clouds blocking the sun. He is still far too dry, his skin aching fiercely, but the absence of blinding light doesn’t go unnoticed. He opens his weary eyes and tries to look down, to see how badly he is stuck, and how far away the ocean is…
The first thing he sees is his own battered tail. Each slam against the rock scraped and tore at scales, leaving raw, bloody patches of skin here and there. He whimpers at the sight.
At the upper part of his tail, just below where skin ends and scales begin, he is pressed between the rocks - tight. The pressure is a pain all its own, breaking the scales and bruising the skin beneath them, throbbing dully and making him shudder.
He got in, so he should be able to get out...right?
But still there is the matter of the landscape below: slivers of ocean wrapped around jutting rocks. He can hear the sloshing waves, smell the salty air, it’s all so close and too far. His dry skin longs for the cool touch of water.
Exhaustion threatens to overwhelm Blue. He’s still worn from fighting to swim against the building storm the night before, and now on top of that are his injuries and the suffocating heat. His head lolls, his eyes drifting shut and popping open. The pull of unconsciousness, of an escape from constant pain, is so tempting...but the merman fears if he falls asleep he may never wake again.
Trying to free himself from the crevice is his only option. At the same time, moving is the last thing his sore body and weary mind want to do. And if he gets free, there is still the risk of falling onto one of the rocks below.
Blue takes a few wheezing breaths of dry air. His chest is tight with fear, but he has to try. He begins to squirm his hips and push against the rock with his elbows.
Immediately injuries that had numbed down to a dull ache flare up with a vengeance. His head spins; his body trembles and throbs.
He can’t give up.
It takes several more squirms and pushes and shifts of his weight. The pain threatens to overwhelm him. His breath nearly gives out. His movements become weak and desperate.
One final wriggle does it - his body is freed from where the rocks pinned him.
For a moment the only things holding him up are his wobbling arms. They quickly give in and the merman drops.
Blue passes out before his battered body crashes to the waves below. He’s tossed about before finally sinking down into the water.
New dangers might find him here, and he’s badly injured. But for now he drifts carelessly, rocked by the shifting currents, cradled by the ocean’s cool embrace.
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realcube · 3 years
Text
LEAVING MIDORIYA
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part one (nsfw) | part two 
tw// mentions of toxic relationships, drinking & mention of a bombing
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honestly, if you were given enough time you probably could’ve figured it out on your own — without the assistance of a psychiatrist — but exactly one appointment later, you were left with the disheartening realisation that you weren’t having ‘bad dreams’ and the marks on your body weren’t inflicted by yourself during slumber. eventually, the fact set in that it was your sweet, gentle fiancée who was the cause of all these things. 
this whole time, you were under the impression that you were the problem, that there was a malicious part of you that wanted to paint deku out to be some sort of villain; and now you were finally made aware that a villain is exactly what he is. 
it was a hard conclusion to come to but the initial wave of relief you felt was enough to make you act on it quickly, as the more you waited around and let the fact sink in, the more you doubted whether or not to take action. but reasoning isn’t what you need right now, you just need to get away from him. 
where will you go? you had no idea, but any where away from him is good enough. 
midoriya didn’t even get enough time to try fill your head with even more lies. you came marching into the apartment with the intention of ignoring everything he says and simply pack your stuff so you can leave. no matter how much he screamed, begged or yelled, it was like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall hence he eventually gave in, leaving you to collect your things in peace as there was clearly no way he was going to get through to you. 
you left without another word — not even a goodbye — and you were sure to sneak your engagement ring out with you. although it made you sick to look at, realistically you might need the cash since as soon as you stepped outside your shared apartment with your shit in bags, you were officially homeless. 
no need to worry though, you had arranged to stay the night at a friend’s house until tomorrow morning, then you could catch the train to your parent’s. from there, you’d stay with them until you manage to find a new apartment within your price range. 
one problem; your friend just texted you saying that they have to retract their offer because their landlord doesn’t allow over two people to sleep in the same dorm, and they already have a roommate. very unfortunate but hey, what can you do? plus, they apologised and offered to pay for your hotel but you reassured them that their money wouldn’t be necessary. 
now sitting outside your old apartment complex, scrolling through your phone looking for the nearest hotel. since both you and deku were well-paid pro-heroes and bought a penthouse in a rather affluent area, it was no surprise that most of the hotels that were reasonably close were from 4-5 stars.
although a 5-star hotel room for one night really wasn’t necessary, the post-breakup adrenaline was telling you otherwise. it also told you that treating yourself to a shopping spree, getting wine drunk at a bar and then shuffling back to the hotel with mcdonald’s take-out was a great idea! 
those emotional discussions you had with complete strangers must’ve really gotten to you because when you opened your front camera to take some pictures, you immediately grimaced at the sight of your mascara staining your cheeks. you were lazing around in the hotel lobby surrounded by name brand gift bags — waiting for your room key — looking like that? how embarrassing. 
quickly wiping away your tears, you put on a pair of designer sunglasses you brought earlier to shield your smudged eye-makeup from the world. not that you cared what anyone in this damn lobby thought of you anyway, you were only going to be here for one night, after that you would never see most of these people again. or at least, that is what you thought.
out of the corner of your eye, you saw flashing lights which prompted you to take out your earbuds but once you did, you instantly regretted it as all you heard was screaming and yelling from the entrance. looking up, you noticed an average-looking guy wearing a skull tank top resembling the fashion sense of a middle schooler, being followed by a mob of screaming fans, paparazzi and gossip channel reporters. 
“dynamight! thank you for everything!”
“you deserve to be number one!” 
“we are here at scene, pro-hero dynamight has just been seen entering what appears to be his five star accommodation, wearing his signature blac--”
the loud noises were suddenly muffled as the doorman shut the entrance behind him, leaving things just as they were, except now there was a muscular blond man encircled by bodyguards staring daggers at you.
in any other situation, you would’ve just tried your best to ignore him but some of that liquid courage was beginning to get to you, so your reaction was to snarl right back at him, yelling across the hall, “take a picture, why don’t ya? it’ll last longer.”
only upon processing your reply did the man finally snap out of his trance and storm up to, being hastily followed by his guards who looked as though they were ready to throw down at any given moment, so of course you cowered back in your seat, apologies waiting on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill until his face was hovering centimetres away from yours. 
your throat ran dry at his unexpected action, your eyes scanning over his chiselled features through the tint of your glasses. in a turn of events, you were now the one speechlessly staring at him. then, a deep chuckle erupted from his throat, causing the shock to show on your expression. 
“i knew i recognised you! you’re stupid deku’s girlfriend- fiancée or whatever; i saw the invite for your wedding in my mail and i just got a look at your face before i threw it away. small world.” the blond continued to laugh, talking to you as if you were an old friend of his despite the fact you’ve never seen him before in your life, “anyway, you like a hot fuckin’ mess. where’s deku?” 
why was he talking to you so casually? and how dare he say that!
“first of all,” you started, peering over your glasses to gaze at his face without the rose tint but to no avail, you still had no idea who this man is. using the soles of your palm, you pushed him away by the shoulders as he was a bit too close for comfort, but that resulted in all his guard looking at you with murderous glints in their eyes. “deku and i broke up--”
“when?” he cut you off
“let me finish.” you glared at him, fixing your sunglasses, “we broke up this morning. secondly, who the fuck are you?”
the man looked like he was ready to burst out laughing once again until he had a visible realisation, “eh, well, we’ve never met before but i’m sure deku has told you about me. if not, you’ve probably seen me in the news; i saved around a thousa--”
“no, i’ve not watched the news for, like, the past six months.” this time, you cut him off with a mischievous smirk which you tried your best to conceal.
“bitch! let me fuckin’ finish!” he barked, then had a sudden change in demeanour as he let out a sigh, momentarily silent as he scanned the surrounding area, “i’m bakugo. kastuki.”
your reply of a blank stare spoke a thousand words.
“y’know, dynamight.”
who?
“the number two hero!”
nothing.
“the one who saved that whole airline from blowing up just a week ago! c’mon, it was all over the fuckin’ news!”
“you look like a hotter version of my old maths teacher. oh, and i’m (y/n) (l/n).” was the only verbal response he was able to get out of you, even after all his explaining.
“why do you i feel like you are sayin’ that just to piss me off?” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth, followed by a sharp inhale which you assumed was an attempt to calm himself down. his carnelian eyes darted around the room, halting once he raised his arm to view his watch. his brows knitted together as he read the time, forming a concentrated look which was short-lived as his face was quick to relax, emphasised by a slight shrug as if to say ‘i’ve got time’, before slumping down on the couch next to you. 
“so why did you and shitty deku break up?”
“i may be a bit tipsy but i’m not just gonna tell that sorta stuff to a complete stranger.” each syllable felt like it had to be forced out one at a time, but you’d rather that than slur you speech as bakugo seemed like the type to poke fun at you for it. 
“i just wanna know how badly he fucked up this time.” bakugo smirked, propping his elbow up on the back of the couch to turn and look at you, “eh, i don’t think we’ll be strangers for long.” 
there was a certain purr in this voice which sent blood rushing to your cheeks as you never expect someone like him to come on so strong. not that you were complaining, i mean, being in his presence during a time like this felt like a gift from god but you weren’t going to let him know that. it’d only add to his already massive ego so you decided to ignore his suggestive behaviour, opting to show disinterest instead, “hm, you think?”
it was almost comical how fast bakugo’s cocky smirk fell into a frown. honestly, he wasn’t used to people that he flirts with rejecting him, considering that he rarely ever makes moves on anyone. so, now what did he do? due to the foreign nature of this situation, bakugo felt as though he was left with no choice but to bargain, since he’s far from a quitter, “oi, what that supposed to mean?”
you shrug.
bakugo clicked his tongue along with a roll of his eyes before he said, “how ‘bout this; i pay for your room tonight and in exchange we can get to know each other tomorrow.”
“i can pay for my own room though.” 
bakugo deadpanned, he honestly thought he had won but apparently not. perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to hit on someone who had just gotten out of a relationship but whatever. “you’re impossible.” he spat, getting up from the couch and marching away, presumably to his room.
he tried to brush off the encounter like it never happened, reassuring himself that he didn’t have to think much of it as he could get with anyone else. plus, you’d probably come crawling back to him, begging to fuck once you get over deku anyway. 
and he was half right.
eventually, you came to the realisation that both you and bakugo have one thing in common — a hatred for deku. and as it turns out, hatred provides a good groundwork for friendship. 
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pastorpresent · 3 years
Text
Summary: Dean and Sam have to go undercover at a dom/sub club
-0-0-0-
As they entered the club, Sam felt incredibly out of his depth.
He hated clubs with loud music and colourful lights at the best of times but this? This was entirely worse, in every conceivable way.
They made their way through the crowd of dancing people, and Sam's eyes didn't know where to look. Some were sat in booths, with leather clad subs perched at their feet or on their laps. His eyes landed on one dom as he drank his beer, his dick out with his sub on the ground sucking away obediently.
The entire club reaked of sex, sweat and vodka and he found himself even more uncomfortable than ever - especially in the tight leather booty shorts and mesh shirt Dean had put on him, complete with a collar and lead.
He had stared at the outfit dumbfounded when Dean laid it out on the bed for him, thinking he was surely just joking, but he had to admit he blended in.
"You ok, pet?" Dean called, tugging on the leash slightly to encourage Sam to stop lingering on the sights of the club and follow properly.
The nickname felt odd, but Sam knew it was necessary. They needed to be convincing - they had no idea if their guy was watching them, and if they blew their cover they'd be screwed.
"Yes sir." Sam responded, even if he really felt anything but.
He hated this place, and the prospect of spending an entire evening here was making him feel massively uncomfortable - and they has scarcely been inside two minutes.
Eventually they reached an empty booth in the corner, and Sam averted his eyes from the couple having sex a few feet away against the wall.
Dean slid into the booth and Sam followed, pressing up against him and staring at the floor. He really wanted to leave.
"Subs aren't supposed to sit on the furniture."
Sam could feel Dean wrap an arm tightly around his waist as they both looked over to the man.
He was leering at Sam in a way that made him uncomfortable, and had a young boy on his knees attached to a lead.
"He was about to sit on my lap, if you hadn't rudely interrupted." Dean spat out, and the man huffed, heading away with the boy crawling behind.
Sam felt himself pressing unconsciously further into Dean's side. Dean was the only thing that felt safe in this place.
"Straddle me, Sammy." Dean whispered against the shell of his ear, and it sent a shiver through Sam's body.
He obeyed, straddling his brothers lap and sitting close so they were almost chest to chest. It meant he could feels Dean's dick against his ass, and his face felt like it was on fire.
"Dean... I don't like it here." He said, quiet enough for only Dean to hear.
Dean nodded sympathetically, his fingers absently running over Sam's sides.
"I know, Sammy. But we need to stake out, see if Alex is really the one doing the murders." Sam knew Dean was right, but it didn't make him any happier about the situation.
A few beats of silence passed, with Dean sipping his drink and Sam trying to focus solely on his brother rather than their surroundings.
And then Dean was biting at his neck, tongue darting out as he licked on Sam's pulse point, and he would've jolted right off of Dean's lap if it wasn't for the strong hands holding his waist in place.
"W-what-"
"Shhh," Dean hummed, before leaning closer and nipping gently at Sam's earlobe.
"Alex is watching us. Think he's interested, just play along, 'kay?" Dean's breath was hot against his neck, and then his tongue and teeth were paying attention to that spot just below Sam's jaw and suddenly he didn't need to 'play along'.
His reactions were one hundred percent real, the way his hips grinded slightly, the way his hands gripped at Dean's shoulders... it was all too real, and Sam found himself really wishing they could've called Jo or someone in to take his place instead. This wasn't right.
"On your knees, bitch." Dean purred, and Sam decided he actually wouldn't like anyone to take his place ever. Not if Dean kept speaking to him like this, touching him like that.
It was overwhelming, damn dizzying with what it was doing to him. And yeah, maybe Dean was partly acting, but that lust in his eyes? His dick twitching in his pants?
That felt all too real.
"Now, brat. Don't make me say it again." Dean growled, nipping at Sam's bottom lip and tearing away some of the skin with his teeth.
Sam did as he was told, sliding down under the table between Dean's parted legs.
His inhibitions were gone, and he wished he had drunk tonight so at least he could blame it on that. But he hadn't, he was completely sober, and he knew Dean knew that too.
"Nice little sub you got there." Sam recognised the gravelly voice immediatly.
Alex.
He felt Dean's hand fell into his hair, and found himself relaxing again.
Then the fingers in his hair pulled, tugged him towards Dean's crotch and Sam found himself darting his tongue out to lick the denim.
"Yeah, he's pretty damn amazing." The compliment made Sam flush, and he reached for Dean's zipper.
"You rent him out?" Sam knew the question was coming. It was sort of the whole point of the cover. Get Alex interested in him, get Alex to take him, and see if he really was the one draining subs dry.
Still, knowing that didn't help. Didn't make the question any less terrifying, and not even the massaging motions of Dean's fingers were easing the tension in his body now.
"Depends how much you're paying."
"800. All evening, I'll bring him here at 9am you can come collect him tomorrow morning." It was bullshit. If Alex had his way, Sam would be dead in a gutter long before then.
"900, and we have a deal." Dean agreed, and all that lust inspired by Dean's hands on him earlier vanished, replaced by the nervous nausea from when they first entered.
"Deal." He watched Alex reach into his jeans, grabbing out a wad of bills and placing them on the table with a thump.
Dean's hand retracted from his hair, reaching instead for the collar around his neck. He paused first to squeeze Sam's shoulder, a silent assurance that he would save him, before gripping the leash and pulling Sam up and back onto his lap.
"Just don't damage him too badly." Dean said, handing the lead to Alex's grimy fingers, and it was all Sam could do not to panic.
"Of course." Alex smirked, climbing out the booth and tugging at Sam to follow. He didn't have a choice, stumbling after him with one last worried glance to Dean as he was pulled out of the bar.
-0-0-0-
"Where... I thought we were going back to your house." Sam said, because Alex might get suspicious if Sam wasn't questioning the alley he was being yanked down.
The same alley him and Dean had been in yesterday, assessing the scene.
Alex was definitely their guy then. Dean should be showing up any minute, he reminded himself. Repeated it over and over like a prayer.
Alex must've decided they had went in far enough, because suddenly Sam was being shoved into the wall hard, his scarcely covered body being scraped up by the rough bricks.
"So pretty... bet you taste even better..." Alex smirked, before ducking his head and biting into Sam's neck.
Sam cried out in pain, his flesh being torn away and leaving a bite mark as Alex took his fill.
Just as his head was starting to feel heavy from blood loss, a machete slipped clean through the vampires neck and decapitated the monster.
"God, Sammy. I tried to follow as quickly as I could but-"
"It's 'kay. J'st glad you showed. Saved me." Sam breathed, trying to move towards Dean but his head was swimming and his footing was clumsy.
"Woah, take it easy ok? Let's get you to the car." Dean murmured, wrapping an arm around Sam's waist.
And if Sam said "ok sir" rather than "ok Dean"... well that was obviously just the blood loss talking.
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sasukelore · 4 years
Note
O K A Y I need Itachi smut. Pls. I just want it to be rlly kinky. A bitch is fuckin’ tHIRSTING after this man, okay? Okay 💞
Warm mouths, Itachi Uchiha
Request: O K A Y I need Itachi smut. Pls. I just want it to be rlly kinky. A bitch is fuckin’ THIRSTING after this man, okay? Okay 💞
If you’re not thirsting for Itachi I don’t trust you
Warnings:. smutsmutsmut, pwp
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Itachi’s fingers trailed down your naked back, teasing your very existence. His hot breath mingling with yours, lips barely brushing. In the pitch black room you found comfort in only each other. His sweet nothings and sweet smiles were like nicotine; addicting, and you couldn’t get enough.
”You’re so beautiful,” He would say, his silky voice sending vibrations through you. Goosebumps arose from what felt like your entire body. “I intend to show you that you’re mine. Nobody else can touch you.” His voice was raspier, almost growling. 
This was the result of a long mission. You both craved each other from other sides of the world. And now that you were together, you couldn’t get enough. It was exhilarating, exciting, and dangerous. The look in his eyes was possessive. The lust you were bottling up was fizzing up and exploding.
Itachi tears off the last pieces of the already torn up panties you still have on. What a nuisance, he thinks.  
Pushing you down on the bed, he looms over you, trying to touch every nook and cranny your body has to offer him. Your knees are pulled together, hiding where you want to be touched the most, where you’re dripping. He knows you’re doing it on purpose. You’re teasing him. 
Growling once more, he pushes his leg in between your thighs, brushing your clit every so slightly. You whimper, and attempt to grind on Itachi’s own knee. You so desperately need the friction you got a taste of. But it’s Itachi’s turn to tease you. He pushes your hips down so you can’t move against him. 
He’ll give you what you want. That’s the only thing he cares about, your satisfaction. He knows what a dirty little girl you are, however. How much you get off on being his little cumslut. So, he takes your hardened nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your bud until you’re squirming. Begging to be touched. 
“Does that feel good, princess?” He says, coming up from your nipple with a wet pop in his wake. You attempt to rub your thighs together, but his leg won’t let you. Itachi takes pity on you, and slowly rubs his finger over your wet nub. He loves seeing you like this. Panting and shaking with want. 
He adds another digit, the pads of his finger brushing over you so good. But you want more. You want to feel himself rail into you, but you know he won’t. Not until he’s gotten you off on his fingers first. He pokes both of his fingers into your wet hole. Moaning, you start to beg.
The stretch is heaven. He’s inserting his fingers deeper and deeper until he’s knuckles deep. His hard-on is getting painful. He wants to shove himself inside of you until you’re overstimulated and overwhelmed. He places his thumb over your clit, wanting to feel the way you’re pulsing on his fingers completely. He can see your legs starting to shake, he knows you’re tipping over the edge. 
Pressing his lips hard against yours, he plunges his fingers in and out of you harder and faster. Your moans are bouncing between walls. You can feel his tongue fighting with yours, you know he’ll win. It’s fun being a brat, getting him riled up like this. 
As your climax washes over you, you arch your back into him. Unintentionally rubbing your still hardened nipples over his chest. He retracts his digits away from your core. This is the perfect opportunity to grab his hardened cock and stroke it nice and slow. Pre-cum already leaking out of it, you place it right above your aching hole. 
You need him so badly you can’t breathe properly. You rush to plunge him into you before he can grab your wrists and punish you further. 
“Tch, Tch, such a greedy thing” Itachi says, trying to compose himself. Only his tip is in and yet he finds it impossible to retract himself from you. Your nails are scraping down his back causing beautiful pain, and his own neck is the perfect place for you to clamp your lips down and suck, your teeth scraping his smooth, delicious skin. 
He has no choice but to sink into you completely. Cursing in the process. You’re so tight he can feel himself being squeezed. White-hot pleaure flashed through the both of you. And so, Itachi really did end up pinning your wrists side by side to your head. 
His pace started out slow, before pushing himself in and out hard and rough. Shivers ran down your spine as the euphoric feeling of being so close to him hit you like waves. You wanted to touch him so badly, but this was part of your punishment for rushing him. 
His fingers started rubbing your clit again, overstimulating you to the point where your legs were already shaking again. You felt the coil in your stomach, you were going to cum soon. You would hold it off as long as you could. You didn’t wanna cum without him. 
Continuing to thrust inside of you, Itachi nibbles at your earlobe. Causing you to arch your back again into him. This sets Itachi off as he too, feels his release coming. He can feel yours about to burst out any second. 
“You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, Y/N.” He says with a seriousness that almost tipped you over the edge. Your whines proved that it was difficult for you to delay your own release. But you obeyed him anyways.
Finally after one last hard thrust, he feels himself shake as his orgasm wipes through him. “Cum for me, loves” He says as his voice shakes and rumbles. He feels your walls clench around him, sucking him dry as he releases into you. 
Your wrists are bruised from him pinning them down and you’re sore and sticky with sweat. Itachi collapses onto you, completely exhausted and satisfied. You were such a good girl for him. You took him so well. He lays on his back and pulls you into him, resting on his chest. He kisses your forehead affectionately, and his heart swells with pride. The image of you under him with his cum leaking out of you was a sight for sore eyes. 
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jostepherjoestar · 3 years
Text
An Educational Favour: I
NOTsfw // FEM! reader & pronouns
warnings/notes: 18+ content, minors dni, it’s Illuso x reader but also Risotto, casual discussions of virginity, interc0urse, v0yeurism?, questionable group dynamics
part 1- 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 -7
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PART I: 🪞Illuso🪞
“No.” A simple reply shifting the mood that previously dominated the conversation.  A casual and perhaps a bit nervous one had now transformed into slight embarrassment and coyness, Risotto’s stern dark eyes boring into yours as you wished to retract your words. “Why?” Courage having left your voice, a dejected curiosity more prevalent as your eyes begged for a different answer. The tall man was mulling over the question, trying to come up with an answer that would satisfy you. He truly did want to aid you but he knew it would be for the best to find another solution. “You’re not ready. Starting with me just wouldn’t be wise.” The stoic man made sure to interlace his rejection with a hint of compassion, trying to make it obvious that he hadn’t intended on hurting your feelings. As you assessed his answer an idea sprung to life making you straighten your back and causing an earnest glimmer to grace your eyes as they widened. “Then I won’t start with you. What about the rest? They’d agree, no?” 
Clambering at the edge of the large oaken desk with impatient fingers, needing an instant reply from your capo. Noticing the absolute eagerness and understanding where it came from, the man let out a sigh as he rubbed his troubled forehead. “Fine. I’m sure those perverts have been aching for it. Just be sure you want this. Be very sure.” He intoned his reply to let his words sink in, your excitement could cause you blindness and it was a delicate situation to handle. To be completely honest you hadn’t really thought it over much but you knew deep down this is what you wanted, even to just satiate the hungry curiosity that gnawed at you. “I’m sure. Thank you Risotto!” Not even sure why you were thanking your superior, perhaps since he’d be the one organising this sinful inquiry of yours. You felt the nerves transform into to excited tingles as they made their way to your lower stomach, whatever was in store would be deliciously educational. 
Risotto felt the need to keep rubbing confined circles into his temples like he was massaging the ridiculousness of the request into a more logical one. It’s not everyday one of your most loyal subordinates comes knocking on your door casually asking to take their virtue and let them gain experience on the most intimate of subjects. You had so casually asked him, he almost let his surprise get the best of him, adjusting his position in the creaky chair after hearing your soft voice requesting his sexual experience like you were asking for another helping of food. But he couldn’t just defile you, his size alone would serve as a problem. There was no denying his faithful teammate was an attractive addition to the team alongside the heap of men he’d grown so used to seeing and that he’d sinfully fantasised about you in the past, ashamed of himself for even thinking it. There was also no denying it took all his strength and commitment not to agree immediately. Now he’d taken on the roll of tutor, guiding his student through an obstacle course of depravity. 
The stern capo wasn’t sure how to bring this idea to his men, sure that they’d all agree, having heard their lewd conversations after a drink or two, getting to know their utmost desires. Unfortunate for him personally, but fortunate for you, he’d retained the dirty information the men had given him of their sexual fantasies. “We should call a meeting, if that’s alright with you.” That eager glint still ever present in your eyes, bouncing with every word on the cushioned chair, ready to get started on this journey of discovery. Who knew your beloved colleagues would get the chance to ruin your innocence. But it’s what you so gladly craved, having no other contacts outside of the squad and being absolutely terrible at making new ones your decision to look to your inner circle opted to be a successful one. 
You’d known them for a year now, having joined the squad of assassins after working diligently under a different division. Never had a team brought you such joy to work with, it was a macabre thought, but finding any sort of joy in this line of work served you well. You knew it to be out of the norm but nothing in this underground landscape was in any way inside society’s definition of normal. This whole happening seemed adventurous, but more tame than some stories you’ve heard from others. 
The room was silent, each member a different shade of red with varying degrees of lengths that their mouth hung open with. All the while you sat happily at the head of the table, a foot lower than your stern eyed capo who’d made peace with the situation. “So what do you guys think? We’d all get tested of course, we don’t need us all catching something…” your excitement trailing off as you scanned the eyes of the men before you. “We made a rough list of who’d go first, based on the sensitive info you’ve all so willingly provided to Risotto in the past.” You winked cheekily at Melone who had offered quite the thorough list of things he so lovingly liked to indulge in. The purple haired one seemingly one of the few who were visibly excited by the suggestion already, like you’d just crossed off a desire on his list. No one seemed to want to interject, still busy processing the information. “After some consideration, we -Risotto and I- have concluded that Illuso can go first.” You announced as you turned to the man in question. He’d been quite surprised at the proposal but that left quickly when he heard your conclusion. A smug smile taking over his plump lips, a wolf calculating his best course of action to get his prey. 
“There is one condition.” Risotto spoke up for the first time since he commenced the meeting, his voice seeming to snap Pesci out of his catatonic state. “I’ll be there to watch. A tutor of sorts.” Illuso cleared his throat at the thought of his capo supervising his every move but he felt a familiar tinge of excitement make itself known. He knew he was vain, a modern-day narcissus, another soul to bask in his beauty and skills would only stroke his ego more than you would stroke him. “Alright bella, when do we get started? Wear something pretty.” He cheaply winked at you but the angry glare of his capo halted any further advances, you felt relieved to have him by your side through this, knowing full well that you’d let these men have at it, Risotto there as observer and guardrail for any unwanted advances not previously agreed upon. Not that you’d expect any of the sort to occur. Some more details were discussed but not much of the further list had been issued, letting the tension build for extra provocation. There would be more private conversations after the first time, all depending on your terms.  
The white laced edge of the newest, be it the first, addition to your lingerie collection sat comfortably against your tender skin. Breast aptly supported by the soft fabric’s pattern that merely guided your mounds into a natural position instead of raising them upwards. Your hips and behind so tenderly hugged by the coincidentally virtuous choice of colour, the thought only making you chuckle under your breath as you slid on a flowy dress to ready yourself for the exciting happening. The red eyed assassin would be your first guest to be intimate with, ever. If you were honest with yourself, you knew he wasn’t the ideal candidate but you felt it beyond need to finally get it over with, to experience intimate pleasure with another even if it was for selfish reasons. If you craved romance and mushy swooning you’d have searched for that instead. The added scandal of it being your teammate, under your capo’s watchful eye, made it all the more thrilling. Heat already making itself known between your ample thighs as you approached Illuso’s room. 
The door had been left ajar leaving you no choice but to carefully push it open to enter the dimly lit room. It smelled like Illuso, a musky fragrance that lingered behind him often, as if to make you cartoonishly follow the source of the sweet smell. There he sat on the bed, dipped mattress as he leaned back on his arms to show off his toned torso, muscles looking even more defined in the low light. His soft hair cascaded down his toned shoulder, released of their usual restraints. 
It was a pleasant view as you meekly smiled, the nerves setting in but you wanted this so badly, your courage keeping you going. Just as you were about to speak Risotto’s large figure slid by you to place himself into the middle of the small room. Giving you a once over with his eyes that seemed to be curtained by his frowned eyebrows, leading you to believe he was feeling a bit tense as well. Which he was. The sight of your innocently flouncy dress, knowing he’d find out soon what hid underneath made it hard to think clearly. He’d be here to observe and help, just in case. Here to see just what you liked and remember it, the face you made or the sounds you let out, the dirty words that would leave your wanton lips. 
“Are you ready?” His husky voice doing its best not to sound too heavy with need. You nodded quickly, mouth feeling a little dry already. “I need to hear you say it.” Risotto sat down in the chair in the corner of the room, facing the bed Illuso was so casually posed upon. His command only erupting tingles from below. “Yes, I’m ready.” You complied, slightly licking your lips to wet them again, the movement evoking a flash of lust behind the capo’s eyes. But he was made to merely observe by his own volition. 
Illuso’s buttery smooth voice groaned with pleasure as he got up to approach you, that wolfish look he had during the meeting having made its return. A heavy haze of lust clouding his crimson eyes as he slinked his hand around your waist, pulling you into his chest. His touch felt pleasantly forceful, his other hand now cradling your delicate neck to guide you closer to his handsome face. You could feel his warm breath from above you, you felt your heartbeat starting to rise above average at the new sensation of being held so tightly with this kind of intent. He steered you into his lips, starting an engaging kiss, his plump lips pressing against yours as his tongue toyed with your bottom lip. Swiping at the partition, teasing you to open up for him, and you did, earning a mewl from you as he grabbed onto your ass, fingers clinging tightly to his unclothed sides for support. You could feel his lips curl into a smile as he further squeezed and kneaded your plush behind while he continued toying with your tongue. “This wasn’t your first kiss, now was it?” He devilishly smiled while pulling away, his grasp still firm on you as his hand held you in place to look at him. “It wasn’t.” You said quietly, lips plump and wet from his actions. His smile communicated a silent “I thought so.” while he stepped away to admire your form. 
“Take that off.” Gesturing toward the flowy dress. You didn’t dare look in the direction of your capo, too enamoured by the intoxicating man in front of you. You did as he commanded, hoisting the dress over your body by the hem, exposing the white set that looked ravishing on you. “Mhh so that’s what you’ve been hiding from us?” He practically purred the barbed complement, quickly averting his eyes to Risotto to check if he’d react to his comments. Your capo didn’t pay it any mind, his eyes still fixated on you, feeling his own desire grow. Noticing his broody nature, Illuso couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of another eyeing his prize for tonight, coming back over to guide you onto his silken sheets. 
He motioned for you to lay down comfortably all the while scanning your curves hungrily. The new feeling of being desired not one you disliked, returning the favour as you stared at his muscled arms adjusting your legs open as he caressed them. An appreciative hum like melted chocolate dripping from a spoon at the sight of the tainted lace resting over your core. “Already so eager.” His hand creeping ever closer to your inner thighs, his figure moving to lean over you, making sure your eyes were aimed at his at all times. You stifled a moan as he moved his fingers over your clothed folds with a gentle touch, his lustful eyes eating up every contortion of your face as he caressed further. “Have you touched yourself before, carina? Mhh, made yourself come?” His lewd words teasing you just like his fingers which were sliding the pretty panties off with ease. You nodded while humming in agreement, gaze still glued on his ruby red ones, he was pleased to hear the answer. 
“Oh, so you don’t mind if I slide a finger or two inside your pretty pussy, tesoro?” As soon as he spoke his lecherous words you felt a warm thick finger slip inside you making you gasp in pleasure. Illuso ate up how your expression scrunched, dipping small pecks along your jaw as he moved in and out of your core slowly. It felt similar to when your own fingers exploded yourself but the feeling of another doing it raised goosebumps all over. Your back arching as he slid in another, moving at an increased pace while bending his fingers just right, teasing a spot you had never reached, sending jolts of pleasure through you. “P-please touch me more.” You begged, the whines so pathetically cute like music to Illuso’s ears. The man moved away from over you, instead taking place by your hips where his other hand started toying with your clit as your back arched even further. Another beautiful moan escaping you, the loudest one at that, sure the others were hearing it, the thought only driving you further into pleasure. 
The way he moved around your sensitive bud while gliding into your wet core bringing you closer and closer. Your chest was heaving, stiffened nipples poking at the lace while you grabbed one to offer it attention, Illuso was too busy beneath you. Part of you wished Risotto would come over and give your breasts the attention they craved but you knew he wouldn’t. The thought made you turn your head to see how your capo was faring, panting at the continued pleasure while searching for his dark eyes. He kept them on you, his expression unchanged but the tightness of his cock pressing against his trousers being ever clear. As you eyed his girth, salivating at the sight, it only caused you to get even more aroused. “Touch yourself Risotto- please.” You panted, words starting to slur as your orgasm moved closer, Illuso’s fingers curling just right while his others moved over your engorged clit. As your capo stroked himself over his pants, focused on your pleasure you felt the familiar rise of heat sparking, igniting a bigger burst of flames as you reached your orgasm, gasping for air as your eyes screwed shut and your jaw slacked, mumbling Illuso’s name as he let you ride it out, your wetness coating his fingers. 
“Well done amore, look at you, already so comfortable in ordering us around.” He crooned, the warmth of his voice a satisfying sound to hear while regaining your breath. “No time to waste, up on your feet.” The man commanded while removing the remainder of clothing that had restrained his member. You felt a bit wobbly on your feet, your core still reeling from pleasure as you did as he asked, watching as his stiff length, already dripping with pre-come bobbed at its release. The tip was blushed pink, from what you guessed he was above average with a slight bend inwards, it was pretty just like him. Clean shaven, not even a bump in sight, it truly matched his personality. Removing your bra to free your breasts you slung the fabric behind you while taking Illuso in for another needy kiss, the bruising strength behind it only making you want it more. 
You could feel his hardness rub against you while your warmed chest and pert nipples rubbed against him. He let go of the kiss guiding you over to the floor length mirror that stood only half a meter away from Risotto, who was -as you so nicely asked- pleasing himself while he kept his eyes on you. You were thoroughly impressed by his length and girth, understanding why he might not have wanted to be your first. Noticing your distraction Illuso grabbed ahold of your face, his arm reaching from behind you as you were positioned in front of the mirror with him breathing down your neck. “Now. You keep your eyes on me ok? You better hold onto something.” He growled against your neck, sucking at your skin while you grabbed onto the sides of the mirror. He lined himself up with your now dripping folds, parting your legs with one of his for better access. The cooler air invigorated your senses as you felt his spongy tip prod at your entrance. 
One arm swung over your waist, pressing you tightly into his torso, his stern grip on you so intoxicating, “Has he always been this intense?” you pondered. Not that there was much time for that, his cock already sliding in slowly, mewls escaping your rosy lips as you settled back into him. The melodic sounds from you only egging him on, that devilish grin eating up your reflection as his gaze bored into yours. He moved in deeper at a delicate pace, toying with your breast, kneading and pinching a blushed nipple. As he fully sheathed himself inside, groaning into your ears, the sound sending a shudder down your spine as you pressed yourself closer against him, grip still tight on the mirror's edge. The man started moving now, a certain roll in his hips while he bucked into you, the smoothness of his motions containing a certain level of skill. He obviously knew what he was doing and he was certainly aware of it as he proudly gawked at you from behind, basking in the pleasure he was giving you. 
“See how good I’m fucking you. It didn’t even hurt, none of those buffoons could make your first time feel so good.” His ego was cruising at an exorbitantly high altitude but he was right, the way he worked his fingers inside you before hadn’t hurt and neither did his deliciously bent cock. You felt yourself lucky at receiving such pleasure, after having heard many first time horror stories. But the thoughts didn’t distract you for long. His pace was quickening and his panting getting louder, warming your neck as he sucked on your skin in between breaths. The rolls of his hips sending pleasurable waves over you, but not enough to grant another orgasm yet. As if he listened in on your thoughts, the hand that had been so kindly servicing your breast moved down between your folds, toying with the sensitive bud. The overwhelming sensation of his cock that crooked ever so slightly into your natural curvature, caressing that spot inside he tickled before just right, and the added stimulation of your clit made you lose balance for a second, glad Illuso’s grip was so tight around you. 
It was all beginning to get too much, the fast movements of his cock against your walls sending you reeling over the edge as his fingers moved over your clit, the sensation of all the energy careening through your body making you moan out a slur of “oh god”’s while he soaked up your pleasure. The way your walls clenched around his cock made him let out a melodic moan as well, you clenched so well around him. It only made him want to go faster, lost in achieving his own pleasure. He could feel himself get closer too, aching to release himself all over your pretty face, wanting to mark you, even just temporarily. His pride pushing him onwards as the thought of coming on your face in front of his capo only encouraged him, making him twitch inside of you while he slowed himself. 
“On your knees now, cara.” His release from you was swift, your oversensitive core glad at the break of stimulation as he slid out with a lewd sound. Sitting down neatly in front of him, positioned just right for Risotto to observe while he looked about ready to release too, the twitch in his eyebrow and the fervour of his stroke radiating intensity. Illuso jerked his length with a supple wrist as you presented yourself to him like the good girl you were. Pumping once, twice and thrice until he groaned loudly as stripes of come coated your face, the salty liquid dripping all over while you tasted a few drops. A new bitter taste you weren’t sure you enjoyed just yet. As Illuso breathed heavily, lightly stroking himself to release every single droplet, Risotto followed suit. Shots of heavy come coating his hands as he slowed his fist. A deep sigh of relief following him, his usual quietness carried through in moments like these, making you wonder if he’d be as silent if he had you all to himself. 
“You’ll clean yourself up, won’t you?” Illuso coolly said while grabbing a towel from his closet, like nothing had just happened. His usual demeanour already returning. “Oh, uhm ok yeah.” You weren’t really sure what to do, having been wrong to think he’d grab you a towel as well, he just wrapped it around his carved hips and left for the shower. Your legs felt sore and you could still feel your heartbeat in your core. “What an ass.” Risotto sighed as he tucked himself away, a compassionate look in his eyes. You never put much thought into what would happen after the fact, only having minded the actual event. 
“Come on, I’ll get you cleaned up. You did good.” The tall man had moved over to steal a soft towel from Illuso’s closet, anger flurrying in his chest at the way the man acted after getting his fill. You quickly collected the shed clothes, clutching them to yourself as you accepted the towel gratefully, Risotto taking the heap from you and wrapping the towel around your form. His kindness did not go unnoticed but you’d rather thank him after wiping the goop from your face. 
Sat on the edge of the tub of your capo’s personal bathroom he used a warm washcloth to gently wipe at your face. “Don’t accept that type of shit, even with this arrangement. Aftercare is important.” His voice was soft as you let him take care of you, knowing this is the exact reason you’d asked him to handle the arrangement first. “Thank you... I know this is unusual- this whole situation. I really appreciate it.” Your smaller hand squeezing his forearm tentatively as you met his serious gaze. He hesitated, just for a second, before continuing his cleanup, nudging you up again to twist the knob on the faucet behind you. “Take your time, you could be sore tomorrow.” The water rushed out in haste, your caring capo leaving you to your thoughts. 
You relaxed into the soapy water, letting the bubbles and foam envelop you, the warm water loosening your tired muscles as you recollected yourself. “What a bizarre way to live.” You chuckled to yourself, settling your aching hips. Feeling relieved at how good it felt, your first time finally over with and having gone better than expected (at least until before Illuso came), already curious at your next endeavour. 
178 notes · View notes
yongtxt · 4 years
Text
turn back time [taeyong]
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word count: 6.2k words
characters: amnesiac!taeyong x girlfriend!reader ft. doyoung
genre: angst [meant to be just melancholic so no crying !]
warnings: few mentions of a car crash and some wounds. taeyong suffers from amnesia.  it’s a couple trying to learn how to love again.
author’s note: yesterday was my first year anniversary here on tumblr and i give you a short angst fic of the first nct member i wrote for as a present. anyway. i need a break from angst after this also i need to stop writing people getting hurt/wounded???? [stream turn back time by wayv later <3] / unedited
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Taeyong awoke to harsh fluorescent lighting filling his vision, a throat so dry it could compare to a desert, and the muffled cries of his lover.
His arms ached, muscles extremely sore that it hurt him to even lift his limb. He wanted to reach out to you, to run his fingers through your hair, and to tell you that everything was gonna be okay—he would work it out with you, together.
You had Taeyong’s hospital gown clutched in your hands, soaking the fabric with your weeping. WIth your face buried into his blanket, it took you a second to realize that your boyfriend had already woken up from his deep slumber. Your cheeks flushed at his intense gaze, dropping your hold on him almost immediately as if it was hot to touch.
“You’re awake!” You exclaimed, voice cracking. Fumbling to wipe your tears, you scrambled to your feet. “Let me grab some food, okay? You must be hungry.”
Taeyong did his best to shake his head, “No, you don’t have to. Please just stay beside me.”
A beat passed and you could only stare at him. The hesitance you exuded didn’t pass unnoticed, you sat back on the stool beside him and stayed tight-lipped. Taeyong sighed through his nose, a bubble of nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, his attention darting everywhere but to you.
“How are you feeling? Do you think you can move better now?” You asked, soft and wary—afraid of what his response would be and he didn’t like the sound of it not one bit, but he didn’t let it show.
“I can move my head better than yesterday.” Taeyong pointed out, craning his neck enough to prove it to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your face and his chest floods with an unfamiliar warmth. He added, “My joints just hurt since I’m kept on bed rest all day.”
“Well, you’re getting released tomorrow.” You said, subconsciously outstretching your hand to brush off the fallen lock of his hair from his forehead. He blushed at the contact of your fingertips and you immediately retracted it back. “Uh, your doctor wanted me to tell you that you should start walking around again if you can to avoid using crutches.”
“I’ll try to go for a walk tonight.” He nodded his head, staring at his lap as if it was the most fascinating thing in the room. “Can you help me drink some water?”
“I’m sorry, of course.” Your cheeks reddened the same way his were, fumbling to punch in a straw inside a bottle of water as you propped it up for him to sip on. Of course he was thirsty, he had been asleep for almost half the day.
Your fingers were trembling, he noticed. Before he could point it out, the door slammed open and you were forced to draw away his drink. You haven’t been told of anyone visiting so it came as a surprise to see your boyfriend’s childhood best friend panting in the doorway, holding himself up on the frame while he gawked at Taeyong’s wounded form.
Bruises of varying sizes littered across Taeyong’s pale skin and a bandage was wrapped around his forehead, his bleached hair peeking out from the bloodied cloth. A large gash can be seen trailing along his jawline and although it had been healing nicely, a mark remained. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken from fatigue and a lack of nutritional intake, much like you.
He didn’t look well, Doyoung thought with a pitiful gaze Taeyong was already too familiar with.
“Aren’t you gonna come in?” Taeyong chuckled, grinning at Doyoung who frowned at him. He rushed to his side and mindlessly took him into an embrace, cradling his bandaged head into his shoulder. You felt hot tears pool into the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away before they could see.
He berated him, the way he always would when Taeyong got himself into trouble that could’ve been easily avoided if he would just think straight. The blizzard, Doyoung kept bringing it up, he shouldn’t have driven when the weather was too dangerous.
“I’ll try to remember that next time.” Taeyong said, reassuring him before Doyoung could burst into tears. He wouldn’t know how to handle him if he got too emotional, he doubted you’d be able to.
“Why were you driving, anyway? What was so important that you had to risk your life to travel?” Doyoung huffed and you rose from your seat from instinct, about to insert yourself into their conversation when Taeyong grasped your fingers.
You stared at him and you were suddenly reminded that he must’ve put himself in pain to stop you. You sat back down and he smiled, he wanted to say it himself and you could only respect his wishes. You hadn’t been able to inform Taeyong’s friends about his car crash as it had been only a week since it happened, all of your time was spent tirelessly tending him back to health. You didn’t have the time to share the unfortunate news.
“Apparently, I was on my way back to Seoul from visiting my family.” Taeyong said, gently grazing your skin away from his best friend’s sight. At Doyoung's confused knot on his forehead, he continued, “My mom told me that they couldn’t make me stay because it was the night of my anniversary with my girlfriend.”
“Taeyong, why are you talking like that—”
“The doctor said I hit my head on the steering wheel pretty badly.” Taeyong laughed mirthlessly, and you subconsciously squeezed his hand. “Bad enough that my memory got a bit fuzzy. Retrograde amnesia, I think that’s what they called it.”
Doyoung blinked, lips gaped at Taeyong who only smiled at him. He looked up at you, a sudden onslaught of anxiety coursing through him that you could just see him almost shake in worry. He whispered to you, “Amnesia? How far back can he remember?”
You bit your lip, turning away and loosening the grip you had on Taeyong’s hand, but he held it tighter with a strength you were sure he was only forcing. You said, “The beginning of third year in college.”
“What?!” Doyoung choked on his spit, leaping from his seat in shock. You offered him an unopened bottle of water but he shook his head. “You’re already a working man, Taeyong! We graduated two years ago, man!”
You did your best to calm Doyoung down, much to Taeyong’s appreciation. You knew where his emotions were coming from so you had to explain why it happened in a manner he would understand. You said that the blizzard was so strong that the roads had iced up and due to the speed he was driving, the car had slipped and crashed into a tree. He hit his head and the sheer impact caused trauma to his brain and made him lose his memories.
The doctors diagnosed him with retrograde amnesia, a form of memory loss that occurs from a traumatic brain injury. It prevented Taeyong from remembering what happened prior to his accident. His recovery was supposed to be gradual, it will take time for him to regain the memories he had lost but it wasn’t assured.
Taeyong doesn’t like telling what happened because people’s first reaction to his amnesia was to resort to aggression. As if their anger and frustration could magically make him remember what he had lost. You didn’t think of it that way, on one quiet night you told him that maybe it was just their desperation to bring him back to the person he was.
He thought it was selfish of them, but you kept your lips shut and refused to tell him that losing two years was a big deal to some people. Although he was still himself, quirks and habits are the same as you’ve first witnessed them, little aspects of him were different; some just different enough that others would do a doubletake to make sure it was really him. The person he is now just wasn’t exactly the person he used to be.
A slightly-off Taeyong, he grimly made a joke about.
You wanted to reassure him, comfort him that he didn’t need to try so hard to be who he used to be. You know despite all of his nonchalance and soft smiles, he was hurting. He instilled it in himself that he disappointed his loved ones by being a person they weren’t accustomed to. But you couldn’t, you weren’t in the place to when his last memories of you were when you have only first met during the anthropology class in your third year of college.
“God, that means you can’t even remember your own girlfriend.” Doyoung mumbled, mostly to himself but you heard it clearly enough as if he personally made it a point to stomp on your heart. Taeyong frowned.
“Shut it, Doyoung.” You grumbled, tears threatening to spill again. You and Taeyong have been so emotionally exhausted that having another person in the hospital room usually would lift both of your spirits, but Doyoung proved himself to be a disturbance instead.
Hours were spent lounging around with Doyoung talking Taeyong’s ears off with stories that he had missed in the past two years, how he was the one who had forced him into the class he shared with you and how coerced him into asking you out before he graduated; a bunch of stories that it almost made Taeyong wish that everything could just go back to the way it was.
He wasn’t the Taeyong they speak so fondly off, he was merely just the shell of him. Still, Doyoung had brought out a smile that you had been unable to make and for that, Taeyong gave him his thanks. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and sniffled.
Doyoung left not too long after, but he promised to visit soon. He knew you needed the support. You were left alone with your boyfriend again and the silence envelops you whole. When you excused yourself to grab a much-needed coffee, Taeyong sank to the hospital bed and succumbed to his tears.
This was his last night in the hospital and it had felt like the longest. He was out like a light but you stilled in your chair beside his bed, fumbling with the ends of his blanket in worry of tomorrow. Not much had progressed in your relationship with him. He was still embarrassed, timid in how he acted around you. You asked if he wanted to go home with you and he reassured you that he would be fine with it, but the panic you felt was still prominent.
Morning came and after what seemed like hours of finishing what was left of Taeyong’s documents in the hospital, it was time to finally leave. You hailed a taxi and you couldn’t help but notice your boyfriend’s sudden rigidness inside the vehicle. Swallowing your reluctance, you took his hand and forced his attention on you throughout the entire drive. He was thankful that you were able to distract him.
The apartment you shared with Taeyong was small but humble, the third unit in an old building that you swore was built in an era before the current. Thin walls and a poorly constructed floor, it was all both of you could afford when you’ve decided to move in together fresh out of college. Despite its imperfections, it was home as long as you had him with you.
With the creaky sounds your front door made, you heard the familiar sound of soft thudding of feet run across the wooden floors to welcome your arrival. Your heart leaped at the sight of Lala, the three-year-old Labrador you adopted with Taeyong, bolting towards your direction with her tongue sticking out.
Taeyong trailed behind you, drinking the place in. His gaze kept on darting from one place to another, his lips parted in amazement at the thought that he really had the courage to move out of his parents’ house to live with his girlfriend. It looked lived in, bits of his and your personalities showing in the way it was decorated and cluttered. The clashing of color schemes and wood tones almost made him want to laugh over how it was clearly furnished purely on indecision and compromise.
He was too busy familiarizing himself to notice that Lala had jumped on him. Your heart squeezed at the sight.
You crouched down to your knees, reaching over to scratch the back of Lala’s ear. You chuckled at Taeyong’s confusion on how to approach the hyperactive puppy, “Her name is Lala, she’s three years old. We adopted her on your birthday last year.”
Taeyong nodded with widened eyes, getting down to your level to attempt to pet her. He commented offhandedly, “Good girl, Lala.”
“She definitely prefers you over me, too.” You mumbled, watching Lala cave into Taeyong’s touch. She hadn’t seen him in a while so you wondered if her attachment to him would waver but it seemed to only grow stronger, the same way you were with your boyfriend. “I had my friend take care of her while we were gone.”
Taeyong kept his quiet and you swallowed the lump in your throat. His doctor told you to treat him especially kindly since he was in a vulnerable state, but you should instill a sense of normalcy. You were instructed to treat him as you normally would, he needed to be reminded of the lifestyle he used to have little by little.
The idea of having to consume copious amounts of medicines every day was already exhausting and gruesome, he even had the bandage around his head to deal with. He had a lot on his plate, you wouldn’t dare add to it by pressuring him to become the adult he doesn’t remember that he was. In his mind, he was still twenty years old and was living in a rickety dorm with Doyoung; it will surely take time for him to grow out of it.
You told Taeyong to go sit down on the stool across the island, to make himself comfortable while you prepared dinner—attempt to prepare dinner. Racking all the recipes his mother had taught you over the years, you wanted to cook a meal he would enjoy and reminisce over.
“Doyoung told me you didn’t like cooking very much.” You heard Taeyong’s voice said, a voice free of malice and full of genuine interest. He said, “It makes sense that I should be the one making food for us right now. You know, for all the trouble I’ve caused you the past week.”
You shook your head firmly, turning around so your back faced him. You didn’t want to let him see your ever-growing frown. You sighed, “Don’t worry, I can handle this. Do you want some coffee?”
“Yeah, sure.” He mumbled, pressing his cheek against the palm of his hand. He wished he could do more for you, but you weren’t letting him; you had your wall up as high as he had his.
Shuffling to where your coffee maker was, you quickly fixed a cup of coffee for him as if you moved purely on instinct. Taeyong watched you in amusement as you slid a blue mug to his way. The paint of its design was chipping off the edges and it had a small crack on the handle, it definitely had seen better days but he felt oddly drawn to it.
You saw him eyeing it out and you chuckled, “We went out on a pottery class for a date once and I made that mug for you. You refused to drink coffee without it, but I think it’s time for us to throw it out and buy you a better one.”
“No!” Taeyong interjected almost immediately, waving his hands to dismiss your idea. “I like it. We’re keeping it.”
Your chest ached, but you were unable to pinpoint the feeling that made it so, “If you say so.”
Taeyong was a picky man when it came to his coffee. He wasn’t an avid drinker of dark and rich brews, often preferred the sweeter and creamier side of the spectrum. The drink you made for him tasted just right, the perfect balance, and he was overwhelmed with gratitude. It made him laugh, how his taste in college didn’t seem to change in his twenty-three-year-old body.
“You can go look around while I cook.” You remarked, jutting your chin towards the rest of the apartment that he has yet to see as you run your hands under the running water. He followed your gaze and shook his head. You quirk an eyebrow, “You sure? It’ll take a bit before these noodles cook.”
Lala encircled his feet before cozying herself on top of his shoes, refusing to leave his sight. He laughed, bending down to pick her up and place her onto his lap. With his hands deep into the puppy’s golden fur, he asked, “Is Lala supposed to be a reference to the Teletubbies?”
You turned the stove on and plopped in the boxed pasta you retrieved from the pantry, “Your nephew loved the Teletubbies at some point so we made him name her.”
A visible twinkle appeared in Taeyong’s eye at the mention of his nephew. He’d only seen photos of him recently, the last he remembered of him was that he was only an infant cradled in his sister’s arms. And as if a barrier was put down, he asked if you could tell him more about what he had missed in his personal life. If Taeyong from the past trusted you enough to move in and adopt a dog together⁠—which he couldn’t believe he was able to do in college, he had to trust you, too.
You gladly entertained his curiosities while you prepared a mediocre version of his mother’s Jajangmyeon. As obscure some of his questions were, you were as honest as you could be. From how he managed to pass his senior year to how he got the job at his company, he asked it all while stuffing his face with dark noodles.
In your eyes, he looked like a kid who wanted to know what his older brother did, to follow in his footsteps and be just like him. He wanted to absorb so much information, it almost pained you to look at him listening to you with an expression so clearly resembling envy.
He cut you off and called out to you with a voice lower than before, sadder but still hesitant. You glanced at him in worry that you were rambling too much. He averted his attention away from you, “You’re crying.”
Raising a hand to your cheek, it was wet. You coughed in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He mumbled, meekly offering his half-empty drink to you.
You hopped out of your seat beside him, carrying your empty bowl to the sink. You stayed a bit longer away from his line of view, wanting to keep your emotions in check for Taeyong’s first night back in the apartment. You didn’t want to scare him away, he was getting more comfortable and you succumbing to your feelings would ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.
You turned the tap on and cracked your neck, “I’ll clean up here while you can go take a bath. The bathroom is next to the bedroom.”
He let out a breath and nodded, lingering for a moment before ultimately deciding that it would be best to leave you be. He didn’t know how he could comfort you when he was the reason for your distress, it would only hurt you more if he tried to console you of things he didn’t know of.
He spotted a box on the coffee table on his way to the bathroom, a bright red box with doodles scribbled onto its sides. Glancing at you, he was about to ask what it was inside when he clamped his mouth shut. He sat down on the couch and let his curiosity get the best of him, reaching to fiddle with the latch that sealed it closed.
Inside were piles of polaroid films, photos were not only of you and him but also of his friends from college and people he had yet to remember. An assortment of knickknacks filled it to its brim, variations of trinkets that included movie tickets and receipts. It was a box made to help Taeyong remember the memories he had lost, the connections he had with people that he had forgotten.
Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek, it must’ve been your doing. You probably asked around for others to help assemble the box, his heart swelled at the thought. You were working hard to make himself and his environment feel normal after losing a good chunk of his memories, he had to work hard as well.
His fists were shaking, his knuckles turning a shade paler than it already was. Lala snaked into the crook of his arm and whimpered at her owner’s change of composure. He laughed humorlessly, scratching her belly in appreciation.
Shutting the box closed, he sighed. He made his way towards the unfamiliar bathroom and filled the tub. Doyoung always told him that a bath could melt all of his troubles away, and how he wished it was that easy.
Taeyong came out of his long bath with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, blushing as he hastily pulled on the clothes you had prepared for him in the bedroom. You remained unfazed as you waited for him in a change of sleepwear, he realized that you might’ve already seen him naked before and the thought of it only worsened the state of his cheeks. He perched on the edge of the bed once he was finished.
You grabbed his ointment and attended to the injury on the side of his head, a gash that the doctors had sewn back together. You had a light hand, he noted, but the ache persisted. It burned when the tip of its applicator grazed along the stitches. He reached out to toy with the hem of your shirt, to divert his attention from the pain. You wrapped a bandage around his head as quickly as you could.
You mumbled, “It’s all done.”
“Thank you.” He smiled up at you and you returned it halfheartedly. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah? I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, don’t! This bed is yours, too.” You said, holding onto his wrists before he could make a home on your busted couch that functioned as Lala’s chew toy half the time. “I know how much your back hurts because of the hospital bed so please, sleep here.”
Taeyong looked at you with a conflicted expression on his face but after seconds of contemplation and mental debate, he relented only if you’d use the bed as well. You sighed and caved in.
He crawled to his side of the bed, making you wonder if there was an inkling of a chance that he remembered how much he preferred his half that faced the windows. You shuffled to your side, mindful to not cross any boundaries. This would be his first time sleeping next to you and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable by being too close for comfort.
You switched to your side, away from his sight. The awkwardness was suffocating you, it seemed like you were the only one affected by it because soon you felt his side dip as he made himself more comfortable while you were frozen like a statue. You were nearing the edge of the bed, so far the end that one wrong move would make you fall out of it.
“Taeyong, are you asleep?” After an hour of silence, you spoke up but in hopes that he was already sleeping.
Unfortunately for you, he hummed in response. You could feel the blankets shift, making it known that he was facing your direction now that you’ve called him. At your lack of reply, he must’ve thought you didn’t hear him so he cleared his throat, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, look. I just want to say that if you want to break up with me, I’ll understand.”
“What?” He slowly sat up in confusion, hefting himself up with his elbows. You refused to look at him, gnawing on your lips and your eyes squeezed shut as if you were a kid caught by your parents awake past your bedtime.
“This situation we’re in, you don’t have to force yourself to be with me if you don’t want to.” You managed to choke out, choosing your words carefully. “I want you to continue living who you are now, I’ll just hinder you from moving on if I only remind you of the memories you lost.”
He called out your name, much sterner and different from the gentle tone he always used on you. You were suffering worse than he was, that he knew, but he didn’t know just how much until you’ve finally cracked—the insecurities and worries you’ve hidden from him, pouring out all at once and he didn’t know what to do with it.
You were sobbing into the sheets and he could only rub circles onto your back as a failed attempt at comfort. He wanted to tell you so many things, to reassure you that he wasn’t thinking the way you assumed he would be.
Taeyong thought of you so highly. You were someone who carried all of his burdens and stories that made him the person that he was, someone who had so much love for him despite not having it reciprocated back, someone who just wanted him to forgive himself for not being who he was and to start living again. You weren’t just some stranger to him, but the world had robbed him of you.
He ignored his hesitance and whispered under the blanket of the night, “You might’ve lost the Taeyong that you love but I promise I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that I’m worthy of the same love you’ve once given to me.”
“Taeyong—”
“It’ll take some time and I can’t assure you that things will be the same as it was but I swear, I will never forget you again and we’ll be happy.”
There were a lot of things to do, but none of those things were as important to him as lying here next to you, to pick up what remained of you from his ruins. He knew full well that he wasn’t the only victim. He was aware that you were also trying your best for him, to hold onto what’s left of the pieces you used to love about him.
“I really want this to work out.” You admitted amid your hiccups and sniffles, his heart broke at the sound of it. “I know I haven’t lost you yet.”
“Thank you for not giving up on me.” He mumbled, running his nimble fingers through the locks of your hair as a serene silence filled the room as you didn’t say anything back. After a week of being in the hospital, your heavy breathing was enough to lull him into his sleep.
You glanced at him for the first time since you had laid down, observing his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. A small smile appeared on your face, he looked tired even though he was already deep in his sleep. You whispered in the dark, “Sleep tight, Taeyong.”
The cold of the night renders you restless once again, your eyes brimming with a bright red hue and utter exhaustion. You swung your legs to the side of the bed, careful enough to not wake your boyfriend who was already asleep. His gentle snores filled the room and you made your way towards the balcony connected to the bedroom with your phone in hand and a blanket draped around your shoulders.
It was another starless sky, you looked up and the absence of the twinkling lights comforted you. You pulled on the blanket closer as you fiddled on your phone, tapping on an option that directed you to a phone call.
“Don’t you know that it’s two in the fucking morning? What do you want?” Doyoung’s voice replaced the monotonous ringing, sounding raspy from what you assumed was his sleep.
“I wanted someone to talk to.” It was your honest answer and you knew he wouldn’t judge you for it.
He yawned, and for a moment you felt a twinge of guilt but it dissipated the second after, “How is Taeyong doing? You brought him back home earlier, right?”
“He’s okay. He’s passed out on the bed right now.” You said, stealing a glance at where Taeyong was sprawled across the bed. A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips, you haven't seen him more at peace. “It kinda sucks, you know? I want to be strong for him but I don’t know how long I will last.”
“You love him, right?”
“I do. So much.”
“Then just be patient, please. You’re the only person he can truly rely on right now.” Doyoung sounded like he was almost pleading with you, entrusting his best friend to you for a second time with the first was when you agreed to be Taeyong’s girlfriend. He said, “The love you shared is very strong, it conquered many hurdles and it will overcome this.”
You nodded your head, but you remembered Doyoung couldn’t see you. You whispered, “I’m scared, Doyoung.”
“Of?” He asked as quietly as you were being as if you wanted the conversation to only be a secret between each other.
“What if he never loves me again?” Your nail was shoved in between your teeth, your leg anxiously bouncing against the floor. It was a thought that had flitted about your mind but you have shoved it so far back in an attempt to ignore it but it demanded your attention, to face its possibility.
He scoffed at the other end of the line, “It’s Taeyong we’re talking about here. If he could fall in love at his first sight of you in college, he could easily do it again.”
You let out a shaky breath, “Thanks, Doyoung. I needed that.”
“Alright, good night. Take care of yourself.” He said, dropping the call when you didn’t return his farewell.
You bent over the railing, tilting your chin up to face the night sky once more. You scoured the endless dark for even just a glimpse of a shooting star, for a chance to wish upon the universe to end this nightmare of yours. Your boyfriend was right there with you, but you have never felt more lonely.
Shutting your eyes closed, you let out another sigh. You were so tired of crying but it felt like the only thing you could do. You wondered just how much an average person could cry, maybe you’ve exceeded their record.
You left the balcony not too long after, padding back to the bed with a heavier heart. You sat on your side and twisted your body to face Taeyong. His mouth was parted and his cheek was pressed onto the pillow he held onto, a chuckle rolled off your tongue. Before you could even think of stopping yourself, you leaned onto him and placed a kiss onto his forehead.
A familiar heat rises to your neck at what you have done, you jumped from where you sat and raised a hand to your lips as if you’ve been burnt. You hadn’t been this intimate to him since the accident happened.
You grabbed your blanket and bolted to the living room, making do with the couch for the rest of the night as you forced yourself to sleep. Lala sleepily watched you in confusion.
Days passed and things have gone relatively the same as the first time Taeyong returned from the hospital, but you noticed the tension has lifted ever-so-slightly. You finally stopped crying yourself to sleep and eventually he has grown enough courage enough to express his affection—discreetly holding your hand and tugging you into his arms late at night to cuddle.
He was forced to stay at home for the remainder of the month while he recuperated, family and friends have visited from time to time to keep him company while you returned to your job. All the stories he’d heard about the two years he’d forgotten about, all of them were linked to you one way or another and it sparked a familiar surge of jealousy he had over his own self; that his past self made so many good memories with you that he could not never experience again.
His feelings for you were growing steadily, dare he said that he may have grown a crush on you. He could never admit it aloud for how pathetic it was, to have a crush on your own girlfriend. But it was your soft hair, your gentle hands, and your never-ending love and patience for him—these were some of the things he could not believe he had forgotten the existence of, how loved it made him feel, and he was ready to drown himself in it again.
Taeyong received a package when you were still at work one day, the label of his hometown address stamped at the right-hand corner indicated that it was from his parents. He ripped off the packaging tape with Lala nuzzling into his side.
He looked inside and saw his luggage. When he was rushed in an ambulance after his crash, his parents were the firsts to arrive at the hospital so the nurses had entrusted to them his belongings that were found in the wreckage. They failed to return it to him once he regained his consciousness as they hurried home soon after you had arrived, unable to stay much longer for personal matters.
He supposed that he only had clothes in it for he was told that he came from his hometown for a week-long visit. Rummaging through his clothes, he was surprised to see a velvet box hidden underneath the pile.
He took it out and gaped at it with owl-like eyes, he fumbled to flip it open. A shiny sparkle of a diamond reflected a faint rainbow from the sunlight that poured from the nearby window, he stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. Chuckling softly, he held the engagement ring close to his chest with a newfound source of encouragement.
You returned home that day to a romantic dinner. Candles of different scents were lit up and a torn picnic blanket covered the dining table, you took off your shoes and followed the scent of your boyfriend’s familiar cooking and spotted him in the kitchen. He donned a suit but he had on an apron to protect his front, busy with whatever meal he was preparing to see you peeking in from the doorframe.
“What are you doing?” You asked, and Taeyong swore you had on the brightest smile that he had seen in a while.
He turned off the stove and threw aside his apron, he strode his way to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed his chin on top of your head and said, “I want to get to know you better.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“But I want to take you out on a first date—well, not out out, but you get what I mean.”
You giggled, pressing your cheek against his chest but you suddenly drew back, the worried expression you had taking him by surprise. Raising a hand to his forehead, you asked, “Your heart is beating really fast. Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”
He stared at you incredulously before bellowing a laugh, a hearty laugh you’ve never heard before. Shaking his head, a small hint of a smile appeared on his lips. He gently pried off your hand from his face and placed a kiss onto the back of your hand. He said, “I’m okay now.”
You were unconvinced that he was, but his sudden affection made it easy for you to ignore it. He leaned down and stole a chaste peck onto your reddened cheek. He put his hand inside the pocket of his suit and nervously fiddled with the velvet box.
Taeyong lost so much of his memories, but he was ready to make new ones as long as he was with you. He will learn to love you again as much as he did before, if not more as long as the universe allowed his heart to.
936 notes · View notes
wisteriashouse · 3 years
Text
comfort.
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pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader
genre: fluff, comfort
word count: 2243
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You’re pacing the grounds of the Rengoku family home, absentmindedly adjusting your haori and ears on the alert for anything that could indicate a need for your intervention. Kyoujurou’s little brother, Senjuro, sits next to you with a nervous expression on his face as he fiddles with his fingers. You feel awful seeing him look like that, so you take a seat next to him without warning and rest a hand on his head. 
He glances up at you in surprise with those eyes that look so much like Kyoujurou’s.
“It’ll be okay.” You try to be as positive as possible, petting Senjuro’s hair reassuringly. “Your brother is a strong man. He won’t be too affected by whatever your father says. No matter what, as long as you’re proud of him, I think Kyoujurou would be happy.”
“Of course I’m proud of him! I really am!” Senjuro hesitates for a moment before continuing his sentence. “But... do you think Father will be pleased?”
You pause, weighing your replies. On one hand, you do want to cheer Senjuro up and give him hope, but on the other hand, you really don’t think Rengoku Shinjuro will have much excitement over Kyoujurou’s inauguration as the Flame Pillar.
After all, he’s the one who gave up that position willingly.
Before you’re forced to give a suitable answer, there’s the sound of the washi panel sliding open behind you. Both you and Senjuro whirl around with wide eyes, questions already forming on your lips, only to see Kyoujurou standing there with a slightly forlorn smile.
He’s holding the flame emblazoned haori in his hand, but although he’s wearing his usual cheery expression, he doesn’t look particularly joyful.
His eyes meet yours, and he shakes his head without a word.
You falter, and your words you had been about to say stay trapped in your throat. Senjuro, clearly picking up that it did not go as hoped, pipes up quietly with a crestfallen expression on his face. “Was Father... unhappy about it? If I become a Pillar too, do you think Father will feel better?”
Kyoujurou smiles at his younger brother, kneeling before him so that they can meet each others’ gazes at the same level, a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t look upset, but you can feel the anger welling up inside you at the unfairness of it all. Kyoujurou trained so hard, fought so many demons, all to get to this point - and yet he won’t even get to hear a word of congratulations from his own father. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
Your fist itches for a Shinjuro shaped punching bag.
“I’ll be honest.” You hear Kyoujurou say as you remain quiet, staring at edges of your frost patterned haori to give the two of them some privacy. “Father isn’t happy at all. In fact, he said it was pointless.”
Senjuro sniffles up at him with shiny eyes, looking crushed. You wonder if Kyoujurou will hold you back if you decide to beat up his dad. He probably would, but you can let yourself indulge in some fantasies once in a while.
“But you worked so hard!” Senjuro wipes at his eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling and failing miserably. Each tear he brushes away are replaced by two more, and by the time he manages to get out the rest of his sentence, Kyoujurou is already patting his cheeks dry with his sleeves. “Your ears got so badly damaged, you always get injured, and you put in so much effort! Why won’t Father just see that?”
Exactly, you want to say aloud. Kyoujurou deserves so much more than this, he deserves people who will congratulate and celebrate with him, not that sorry excuse of a father who won’t get off his damn bed to wish his son good luck before he heads off on a mission.
“It’s alright!”
Both you and Senjuro blink at the sudden energetic shout from him, only to see him smiling brightly as the sun itself. He grins as he claps his brother on the shoulder encouragingly. “My passion will not die because of Father’s words! The flames in my heart will never disappear! I will never be disheartened!”
His smile is confident, but you wonder whether he’s saying all of this to convince Senjuro - or himself.
“And besides, you’re different from me, Senjuro!” Kyoujurou continues cheerfully. “You have an older brother, who believes in his younger brother! No matter the path you take, I am sure that you will be a wonderful person! With a burning passion in your hear that will not be extinguished!”
At his words, Senjuro begins to cry in earnest, big fat tears falling down his cheeks. Upon seeing his younger brother tearing up, Kyoujurou wraps his arms tightly around him, crushing the younger boy in a bear hug. “All you need to do is your best. Your big brother will always be supporting you!”
You turn away from this intimate moment that the two brothers are sharing, feeling vaguely uncomfortable at being privy to this, and look down at your hands quietly. 
Right now, you really wish you could give Kyoujurou a hug as well.
A few hours later, after you and Kyoujurou have left the Rengoku household, the two of you find yourselves at a small, pleasant restaurant with a private dining room for the two of you. Although Kyoujurou tries to pay, you insist on treating him to celebrate his inauguration as the Flame Pillar.
Throughout the entirety of the meal, Kyoujurou smiles, chatters and talks to you as he usually does between his shouts of umai, asking you about topics such as Pillar meetings and patrols, as if today’s incident with his father didn’t happen. But in the brief moments where silence interrupts, you see the lost, pained expression on Kyoujurou’s face, one he probably does not even know he’s making, mind clearly wandering somewhere other than here.
He still hasn’t put on the haori. It sits next to him on the floor, clean and neatly folded. You’re actually mildly surprised that Shinjuro didn’t raze it to ashes.
When the last piece of tempura disappears into the endless void that is Kyoujurou’s mouth, you take a moment to muster your courage to speak. The man opposite you doesn’t seem to notice your internal struggle, instead picking up crumbs of fried tempura batter with his chopsticks and tossing them into his mouth. Your hands fidget under the table, and you count down slowly from ten.
“Kyoujurou, I-”
“I would like to ask you a favour.” Kyoujurou says out of the blue, just as you’re about to speak up. He picks up the haori from the tatami mats, and holds it out with both hands reverently. Kyoujurou had told you once that it was an heirloom of the Rengoku family, passed down generations of Flame Pillars to eventually reach his father, and now him. You blink at him in surprise. 
“What do you need me to do?” You ask. Kyoujurou’s smile softens ever so slightly.
“This haori,” he looks down at it, fingertips gently brushing the flame patterns dancing across the fabric before his golden eyes meet yours once more. “Since my father will not put it on for me, will you do it in his stead?”
What?
Your jaw drops open at his request as you stare wide eyed at him, completely shocked. You, put on his haori for him? Seeing your panicked expression, Kyoujurou only laughs disarmingly, shaking his head. “No need to force yourself! I can always put it on on my own.” He begins to retract the haori, but before he can pull it away, you’re already by his side in the blink of the eye, gripping his hands tight.
“No, no! I want to put it on for you!” You say breathlessly, kneeling before him, his hands warm in yours. You can feel the callouses on his palms from years of unparalleled effort, and your throat feels thick. Kyoujurou looks up at you with gentle eyes, patient and understanding. You swallow heavily. “Of course I would want to put it on for you but...” You pause, hesitant. “Are you sure someone like me should be doing something as important as this? I mean-”
“The Rengoku family tradition is to have the Flame Pillar’s parents put the haori on for them in front of the rest of the family.” Kyoujurou informs you with a smile on his face, and you look down at the stiff white fabric between the two of you. “My mother is no longer around, and my father will not do it. I could think of no other person but you.”
Right, his mother and father both... You want to smack yourself over the head internally. Be a little more sensitive!
“It would be an honor to do this for you.” You say quietly, unfolding the haori in your lap. Kyoujurou sits up a little straighter, those pure golden eyes following every action your hands make. In place of a grand, lively ceremony, it’s just the two of you in this silent, empty room. Reaching around him, you set the white fabric around his shoulders, before your hands falter ever so slightly.
Kyoujurou blinks once and looks up at you, clearly confused about why you’ve stopped. “Is something the matter?”
“Kyo...” You say, unable to find the right words to convey your thoughts. “Kyoujurou... are you really... alright?”
 He smiles, because he’s Rengoku Kyoujurou, and Kyoujurou always smiles. He’s always been more of a parent to Senjuro than his father ever had, and now that he’s a Pillar, one of the foundations of the entire Demon Slayer Corps, he cannot afford to waver. 
“Of course I am alright!” His hand reaches up to clasp yours reassuringly, but doing that only makes you want to cry even more. “I said today that I would not let my Father’s words dampen my spirit, and I meant it! I-”
“I wasn’t asking about your resolve, Kyo.” Your hands fist into the fabric of his haori, and he stiffens when he feels your face press into the curve of his shoulder. “I was asking about you. You’re always a pillar of strength for someone else, but who do you have to rest against when you’re sad or weary? It’s so unfair.” The word tastes like salt on your tongue. “I’m angry because you deserve so much better.”
There’s a moment of silence, and Kyoujurou doesn’t reply. You almost worry that you’ve overstepped your boundaries, but before you can pull away and apologise, Kyoujurou sags beneath you, burying his face in your hair. You can feel his steady breaths against your skin.
“No.” His voice is small, fragile, fingers weaving with yours and gripping them tight. “I’m not alright. I want my father to acknowledge me. I want him to know that it matters, that if I can save just one life from a demon, all this training would have been worth it. I want him to treat Senjuro with kindness because he deserves it. I want my mother to put the haori on me.” There’s a shuddering intake of breath, and your heart aches for him. “But all those are things that I cannot change.”
You wrap your arms around him tightly, running a hand up and down his back as he collects himself. You don’t look at him, allowing him to pour out his own grief in silence, offering only comfort in the knowledge that you’re there for him. After a few moments, his breathing calms and he pulls away from your embrace to smile at you, a real smile this time.
“Instead,” he grips your hands tightly with his as he looks up at you. Your eyes are fixed on him, as if you’re trapped in the burning amber of his gaze. “I’ve decided to focus on the things that I do have now. So, no, I’m not alright now,” Kyoujurou grins. “But as long as I have you and Senjuro, I will be.”
You stare at him for a moment with tears in your eyes before you sniffle and hit him in the chest. He doesn’t flinch in the least. “How did it end up with me crying, you stupid man?”
Kyoujurou laughs and reaches up to wipe your tears gently with the pad of his thumb. “My apologies.” He says, not sounding very sorry at all. “Now, will you finish putting on the haori for me?”
Nodding, you lean forward to do the clasp, missing the way Kyoujurou looks so tenderly at you as you adjust the haori carefully around his shoulders. “There. The finest Flame Pillar since the feudal era.” 
“Surely you jest. I haven’t done anything as the Flame Pillar yet.”
You laugh. “You don’t need to, I already know.” You shift back to admire your work and the flickering candlelight dances across the flames patterned on his haori, making the man before you look as if he’s bathed in fire. His back is straight, and his eyes are proud and determined. “Kyoujurou.”
“Mmm?” He looks at you curiously, and you smile at your friend.
“Remember, no matter what your father says...” You grip his hands tight, trying to channel all your well wishes and hopes to him. “I believe in you.”
Kyoujurou’s smile is dazzling enough to light up the entire room.
“That’s enough for me.”
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trashmenofmarvel · 3 years
Text
Branded - Chapter 43
Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader
(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)
Chapter Warnings: Heavy angst
AO3
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You didn’t know how it was possible that Bucky was awake, but you knew it in your bones and in the steady thrumming of your shoulder.
The mark had been benign and latent for weeks, and it was making a considerable fuss now. From the stinging wetness on your shoulder and the glimpse of red when you turned the mark toward you made it obvious that it was bleeding too. Agitated, inflamed, and letting you know it was as awake as the demon it was bound to. Something you had wished for, but now filled you with dread. You couldn’t imagine what state of mind Bucky would be in when he awoke to find you in agony across your connection, and then being told you’d gone missing.
He was going to come for you, you had no doubt about that, but you wished he would stay away. Bucky was being lured into a trap, and you had no way of warning him.
Your head thunked back against the table. Zemo had left you here, and from your glance around the room you couldn’t see any signs of the Alp. You struggled at your restraints, but your muscles were fatigued, bones acting in the aftermath of your torture. All you wanted to do was close your eyes and sleep.
Holding back as long as you could, you fidgeted with the metal shackles until your wrists and ankles twinged in sharp pain. You couldn’t wriggle out of them, not even with cold sweat dotting your skin. And as the minutes wore on, you could hardly keep your eyes open to the point of alarm.
You were cold all over but your sigil burned and throbbed, leaving you with two uncomfortable extremes. Giving in to the exhaustion, you closed your eyes and silently tried to send Bucky a message. A sign. Anything to make him stay away or at least warn him about what he was walking into.
The heavy weight of unconsciousness dragged you down as the fire in your shoulder continued to burn. You wondered if it would consume you. The thought should have jerked you awake, but you were so, so tired…
Slowly, so gradually you didn’t notice for a while, warmth built in your chest and chased the chill away. It was comforting, safe… and very familiar.
Hold on, it seemed to say. I’m coming. Just hold on.
Don’t, you tried to call back, even as it hurt so badly to say it. Stay away…
The warmth didn’t vanish, only increased, and you held onto it, terrified of slipping away just to wake up in your cell and find it was all a wishful dream.
But it didn’t disappear like a half-remembered dream. The warmth manifested into a physical sensation: hands on your arms, one rougher than the other but both carefully avoiding your shoulder before cupping your face.
“No, please, I can’t be too late. I can’t.” The voice was beautifully familiar, dark and husky with panic.
You wanted to answer, to shout, but you could barely move. Your limbs were heavy, your confused mind picturing you covered with frost as the warmth leeched from your bones.
Why were you so cold?
“Please, please, open your eyes, sweetheart. You gotta open your eyes.”
That voice, so full of desperate fear when it should sound warm with amusement, teasing you with unmistakable fondness, was what finally forced you to open your eyes.
A blurry image was defined against the lightbulbs overhead, vaguely human except for the swept-back horns and the hovering, half-curled wings.
“Bucky…”
He retracted his hands from your face and you nearly cried out, please, don’t go! But then you felt a tug at each ankle and wrist as Bucky shattered the chains of your manacles. Arms lifted you into a sitting position, and you groaned with relief as those arms, and a pair of wings, wrapped tightly around you.
“I’m so—fuck, I’m so sorry.” He spoke into your hair, his embrace everywhere around you. Your cold, clammy skin was on fire but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything. You just wanted to remain like that forever, your sluggish thoughts almost slipping away from the urgent, desperate things you had to tell him.
As quickly as he’d hugged you, Bucky pulled back just enough to scan you, his wings still cradled across your back. His brows were deep with worry, his lips pulled into a flat line. His voice wavered.
“Did… did they do anything else to you? Any experiments? Rituals? Did they—did they try to turn you into a demon?”
You blinked slowly and shook your head, trying to clear it as much as tell him he was wrong. Your voice was little more than a rasp from all the screaming.
“Zemo.” You coughed into your hand, struggling to get the words out past your dry throat. You were dehydrated on top of everything else. “His name is Helmut Zemo.”
“It… it’s just one guy?” Bucky raised his head to look at the expansive missile silo. “Where’s the rest of HYDRA? Strange and Wong and the rest are searching the place, but there’s some kind of crazy wards keeping them out. Steve and I could get through, but we had to split up to find you—“
That. That was the thing you couldn’t focus on, that slid from your mind like oil.
“It’s a trap!” You tried to push him away from you, but you might as well have been shoving against a boulder. “He-he wants you! That’s why he took me, he just wants you.”
“Good,” Bucky growled, gently helping you down to the ground. You could barely stand, so he held on tight. “He’s got me. Fucker won’t live to regret it.”
Next to your feet was a large dark red puddle, and the mystery as to why you were so cold and sluggish was solved. You must have bled more than you realized.
But beyond that… was arguably something worse.
“Bucky…”
He followed your gaze to the white chalk line that encircled the entire table. Now that you could actually see what they were and you weren’t being strapped down to a table, you noted the complicated glyphs were drawn into the concentric rings. It didn’t take a wizard or a demon expert to know what they meant.
With a small noise of panic, you tried to rub at the lines of chalk with your socked heel, but the lines stayed firmly in place. Bucky grabbed you by the shoulders, carefully moving you between the table and his half-spread wings as he faced the room.
“Listen to me, and do exactly what I say.” His command was low, nearly a growl as he never took his eyes from the exits. “Steve and Strange should be here soon. You take this—“
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a walkie-talkie, holding it backwards for you to grab.
“—and run as fast as you can.”
“What?” You stared up at him. Surely, you hadn’t heard right.
“I’m not walking out of here,” he said, lips pulled into a grimace. “You need to run, find any stairs you can that lead upward. We’re too deep for that radio signal to penetrate the stone, so you need to get close enough to the others to alert them to your position. You get to safety first—“
“—Bucky, no!—“
“—and then they can come back for me.” He turned his head to give you a piercing glare out of the side of his eye. “You do not want to be here right now.”
“I’m not leaving you!” You pushed yourself between his wings, face pressed in the middle of his shoulders blades. The familiar musky, earthy smell hit your nostrils, and you yearned for him so badly it hurt worse than the torture. “Not again!”
A shudder moved through him, and instead of yelling at you to leave, his tail wrapped around your waist and held you tightly to him.
“Not when I just got you back,” you whispered into his vest. It wasn’t one you’d seen him wear in person before, but you recognized it from the shared memory. The Winter Soldier tactical vest. If you’d had time, you’d wondered where he’d gotten a new one.
“I know.” His voice wavered. “I don’t want to be separated from you again either, but… this room. That table. I’ve been here before. There’s only one weapon that could make that kind of wound on a demon mark. And let me guess… he’s got a red book with a black pentagram on the cover.”
You held onto him tighter and nodded.
“Yes. He does.”
“Then he has everything he needs to bind me to him. He could make me do anything he wants and I would be helpless to stop him. He could… he could make me kill you.”
Maybe it was because you were so physically close that you were able to feel Bucky’s horror and sorrow, curling in your chest as if it was your own.
“You gotta go, sweetheart,” he said again, voice strained almost to the point of cracking. “Get to safety. I’ve got enough firepower on me that if he gets stupid enough to show his face, I’ll shoot it off before he’ll get the chance. But you can’t… can’t be anywhere near me. He’ll just use you for leverage.”
The truth was bitter, but no less true for it. Zemo had used you once; he would use you again without hesitation. All he wanted was Bucky so he could take vengeance on superheroes who could handle this situation far better than you could. Bucky was right, and the best thing you could do for him was to find the wizards or Rogers.
“Okay,” you said. The adrenaline had helped, you were more alert now than you were before, but you still sounded weak. Felt weak too, and not just because of the blood loss. You were tired of being the source of Bucky’s anguish, and you wouldn’t cause him any more pain if you could help it. “I’ll find them.”
“I know you will.” He didn’t face you, couldn’t when he had to watch the entire room with his hands rested on the pistols strapped to his thighs, but he still gave you an encouraging squeeze of his tail. And then he let you go, folding his wings inwards to give you room to walk away.
It was the hardest thing you’d ever done, turning away from Bucky and stepping over that white line. Your hands shook around the radio, and your legs were boneless and without strength.
You weren’t sure you were going to make it to the end of the room, which was just as well, because you didn’t.
Black smoke popped into your vision, and before your brain could process was what was happening, dark furred arms grabbed you, spun you around, and laid razor sharp claws against your neck.
Bucky’s head whipped around and he let loose a terrifying roar. Wings spread, he leapt toward the Alp—and immediately hit an invisible surface. He was knocked backwards, hitting the table and making it strain where it was bolted to the floor.
You didn’t dare speak or move a muscle. The hand over your neck had a firm grip, and the tips of its talons lay directly over your pulse point. Bucky was trapped within the chalked circle, helpless to do anything more than growl menacingly at the demon that held you by the throat, his tail lashing back and forth like an angry cat.
An old speaker system crackled to life, Zemo’s voice echoing disturbingly around the cylindrical room.
“Sergeant Barnes, it is an honor,” he said, opening a viewing window from what appeared to be a control room. “Even if you did keep me waiting.”
Before he was done speaking, Bucky pulled out one of his pistols and fired, a bullet sparking across the glass dead center of where Zemo’s forehead would be.
The man clicked his tongue, unimpressed.
“Please, Sergeant. The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets. Not even that arm of yours could put a dent in it. It’s no matter; I will find better uses for it.”
He peered at Bucky like a scientist would at a fascinating experiment. Your skin crawled unpleasantly.
“Now…” Zemo said, “disarm yourself of all your weapons and throw them outside the circle. You’re a smart man—you do still consider yourself a man, don’t you?—and I’m certain you know what will happen if you do not cooperate. But I will say it, anyway.”
Zemo’s gaze slid past Bucky and onto you.
“Refuse to follow my orders, and she dies.”
Bucky lifted his lips in a snarl but said nothing as he began to strip his weapons, of which he had many. Pistols, knives, even a combat grenade launcher and several small explosives you didn’t recognize as any kind of traditional grenade.
“Thank you for your cooperation.” Zemo gave a ghost of a smile before shutting the viewing window. You only had a few seconds to act.
“Captain America and the sorcerers are here,” you said under your breath. Bucky, ears twitching as he turned his head to stare at you, furrowed his brows in confusion. But you weren’t talking to him. “You have to lead them here. You know if he…if he binds Bucky, he won’t keep you around for long. Find Strange.”
The Alp made a noise, a rumbly one you didn’t understand, but Bucky’s gaze went wide. He opened his mouth but immediately closed it as Zemo’s footsteps preceded him.
He was carrying the red book in one hand, and the onyx blade in the other. Your stomach turned and you broke your rule not to move. Thankfully, the demon holding you didn’t let you cut yourself on his claws, but he did hold you tighter to still your struggles.
Bucky crouched on the ground, teeth bared as his tail twitched, wings half-unfurled as if about to pounce. But Zemo continued to walk forward, completely indifferent to the display of aggression. He stood outside of the circle, opened the book to a page marked with a colorful tab, and began to read aloud.
The words were Latin, or at least they sounded Latin, but there was a strange, musical quality to them. It made your skin want to crawl right off your body, but the effect it had on you was nothing compared to Bucky. He dropped fully onto his knees, hands raised towards his ears as if to cover them, and then they fell to the floor as if he didn’t have the strength to hold them up. He was trembling, panting, and terror resonated across your bond.
You shouted to be heard over the ritual, begging Zemo to stop, but he ignored you. Facing Bucky’s left side, Zemo brought the knife down and slashed a mark across one of the pentagram lines on his demonic arm. The knife cut through the plating like butter, and Bucky cried out through clenched teeth.
The pain exploded in your own mark, and you weren’t nearly as quiet as Bucky. The Alp was having a difficult time holding you still—the same murderous fever haze came over you as it had in the Sanctum, and you clawed and bit at the demon to get to Bucky. It may have suffered a bite or a few scratches, but it still wouldn’t let you go.
Bucky was able to barely raise his head, only enough to make eye contact, his expression full of regret and sadness. That look of hopelessness fueled your rage, and you screamed wordlessly at the man who had Bucky on his knees.
Zemo was focused solely on his task, continuing the strange Latin as he cut into his own palm. Deep in your bones, you knew how wrong this was. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.
Slamming his hand down onto Bucky’s bleeding mark, agony exploded inside your shoulder. The pain ruptured through your whole body, filling your very being with fire and acid. The golden rope that connected you was burned to a cinder, but not entirely. Something of it remained, but you couldn’t focus on it long enough to figure out what it was.
Panting and trembling, you realized the Alp was holding you up more than you were. Your world had been pulled out from under you, but all you could do was stare at Bucky.
He was disturbingly quiet and still, on his knees with his head bowed. Not even his tail, restless as it was, moved, lying on the ground like a dead thing. For a moment, you were terrified that’s exactly what he was.
And then Bucky slowly rose to his feet, his expression blank as he stared forward, blue eyes as warm as ice.
You’d seen this version of Bucky before. The air left your lungs as if you’d been punched in the gut.
Zemo walked in front of him, head tilted curiously.
“Солдат?” he softly asked.
"Я жду приказаний,” Bucky answered, voice gravel and entirely inhuman.
“Incredible,” Zemo breathed out in a reverent whisper. “With a rebinding, it seems you have taken on your old persona. The ritual should have given me your body, not your mind. HYDRA’s programming runs deeper than even I imagined.”
Something burned in the back of your throat, and when your stomach heaved, you leaned over and vomited. The noise drew Zemo’s attention.
“My offer still stands,” he said, eyes half-lidded as he stared down at you. You felt very small. “You may continue to be his food source, if you so choose. Unfortunately, this version of Sergeant Barnes will, most likely, no longer recognize you. I cannot guarantee there won’t be rough treatment, even with my commands.”
That certainly didn’t help the queasiness of your stomach, the absolute wrongness of the situation. The blank look on Bucky’s face and the emptiness in his eyes.
No, not entirely empty. Bucky assessed the room and each of its occupants with a cold, detached expression. When his icy gaze fell on you, there wasn’t even a flicker. No glance of warmth or love or even recognition. You were a stranger. No, worse, you were nothing to him.
“I hope he turns on you,” you said to Zemo while still meeting Bucky’s eye, voice low and filled with hate. “I hope he rips you to fucking pieces.”
Zemo gave a sardonic sort of smile.
“I suppose I have your answer, then. Let her go.”
The Alp released you, and you barely avoided the dirtied floor as you collapsed onto your legs. Bucky’s expression never changed, and when Zemo ordered, “Come, Soldat,” he turned to follow his new master without hesitation.
You reached out, desperate to stop them from leaving, when the large iron door burst open at the end of the room. In came Steve Rogers in full Captain America regalia, complete with his signature shield. His eyes widened when he spotted Bucky, and he didn’t hesitate to walk forward, incorrectly believing Zemo was the most immediate threat.
“Hold on, Buck, I’m coming!”
“Rogers!” you screamed. “Don’t! It’s not Bucky!”
He came to a quick stop, immediately bringing up his shield before him, expression troubled.
“Buck? What’s going on?”
The Winter Soldier said nothing, not an ounce of recognition in his gaze. Zemo gave the tiniest smirk.
“Steve Rogers, how good it is to see you.” He turned to his newest demon slave. “Time to put your skills through their paces. Let’s see how you fare against the great Captain America.”
Like a hound let off its leash, Bucky strode forward, spread his wings, and launched himself at his best friend.
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