#Any hesitation must be cut out and removed instantly

[some-pers0n]

Sometimes I look at media critical stuff, and while I do agree with the majority of it, a lot of the time I see people go like: "Why did they do this thing?? That doesn't make any sense!" like you almost get it but aren't quite there yet. You just need a little bit better media analysis skills

[cultofdixon]

Only you understand

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • There’s only one person on Daryl’s good side and it’s not even his brother. So when certain decisions led to leaving Merle chained to a roof, you were the one to talk to the youngest Dixon • ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Unprotected Sex / Groping / Grinding • TW: Canon Violence

Requested by: Anon

She’s heard it all

Y/N I could use a favor?

Got a second Y/N?

Mind talking to them, Y/N?

Sweetheart, can I pick your ear about something?

It all falls around the same thing. Asking the Dixon Brothers for anything…mainly for help acquiring food within the woods that the sickos haven’t taken for themselves. But they did everything she asked. Some thought it was because Merle would do anything and everything for her attention even if she doesn’t give him an ounce of anything.

But it’s really Daryl. Y/N is the only one that the youngest Dixon brother tolerates and some, more like Glenn alone, believes the Dixon likes her personally.

“Y/N…we need yea for something” Dale didn’t mean to disturb the girl when she was in the middle of another batch of squirrels she was skinning to prepare for the stew.

“Dale. This must be serious” Y/N half jokes as she wipes her knife off with her rag. “You’re usually not the one to ask me for help”

“Right well, you know the drill” Dale frowns removing his bucket hat and squeezing it out of nervous habit. “This isn’t gonna go well”

“If it’s anything like Daryl and Shane fighting over a little dispute about hunting grounds, I think I can handle—-“

“Lori’s husband came back with the Atlanta group, but they left Merle behind hand cuffed to roof” Dale stated without hesitating or letting Y/N process as she drops everything to go check on Lori for another personal matter that almost everybody knows about before thinking of the words to tell Daryl when he returns from his hunting trip.

When Y/N made herself known to the man that left the eldest Dixon behind as she felt a sense of warmth with the family reunion. But she knew that was going to be cut extremely short if Daryl gets his hands on him.

“You’re the Rick guy?”

“You must be Y/N, the resident Dixon whi—-“

“If you call me that stupid fucking shit that Shane came up with, I will hit you in front of your son” Y/N frowns watching Rick zip his lips to let her get to it. “What’s your plan here?”

“I don’t think I get what you mean” Rick laughs slightly only to immediately stop when it wasn’t getting anywhere with Y/N. “Are you talking about getting Merle back? I think we can do a bit of justice without the racist son of a bitch”

“Oh believe me, I agree wholeheartedly with that. But he’s not your family. I think you can agree that if it were you that got left behind, that you would want someone to come and find you” Y/N watches his expression fall making her cross her arms and stand her ground. “Right. You understand that completely and no one came to bring you back”

“Now that’s uncalled for, Y/N” Shane interrupts only for Y/N to take her leave on that note, picking up her axe from beside the put out fire pit.

“Sit with it, Shane. Call me when you have a plan, I have to try and keep his ass from being killed by the man who’s brother you left on that roof” as Y/N leaves the group to follow a familiar hunting ground to find the archer, Rick was left thinking about what she said.

No one came back for him.

The next day came around and the woods were quiet until they weren’t…

“Stupid fucking shit” Daryl curses under his breath over another deer being eaten by another walker.

As he knelt down to get a look at the damage to see if he could take any of the meat back, he heard a shift in the woods. The archer quickly rose to his feet aiming his crossbow and when the figure didn’t make themselves known, he fired.

Daryl instantly tensed when Y/N made herself known with an annoyed expression at him and the arrow in the tree beside her head.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I should be askin’ yea the same thing!” Daryl scoffs taking the arrow from her hand once she pulled it out. “I could’ve killed yea”

“Yeah well you’d do me a favor” The one thing he hated about her was her joking about death. “You gotta head back”

“Yeah?” Daryl scoffs putting his arrow away. “Ran out of food?”

“No, I’ve given them my squirrels to make a stew out of. But this is more of a matter regarding your idiotic brother”

Why did you give them the food I caught for—-“Wait. Merle? Is he back?”

“Daryl no he—-“ Daryl brushes past Y/N causing her to quickly deflate and follow him back to the campsite.

“Swear, yea think I don’t know they get yeah to talk to me about my idiot brother”

“I mean would you rather have Shane talk to you about Merle? Now Daryl come on. I gotta tell yea—-“ Y/N stops herself when he rose his hand indicating he heard something.

Daryl gave her a quick sign that it was another deer and then Y/N decided to take a second to put the Merle conversation on the back burner.

“They never make it this far up the mountain” Dale frowns staring at the walker that Jim had finished off once the group addressed the children’s screaming.

“They are running out of food in the city” Jim states stepping away from the carcass and the undead beside it.

Before any of them thought of walking back, that’s when the bushes started to rustle some more. Shane instantly readied his shotgun aiming toward the sound until he lowered it along with the others doing the same with their weapons of choice when their resident hunter popped out with the “Dixon whisperer” following behind him.

“Son of a bitch” Daryl scoffs bringing himself over to the deer. “That’s my deer…look at it. All gnawed on by this—“ he quickly kicked the walker out of anger. “Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless proxy bastard!”

“Daryl, come on” Y/N elbowed him when she brought herself close, giving Rick a certain look to watch his words.

“Think we can—-“

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Dar. It’s not safe” She pushes him carefully away from the tainted meat as Shane couldn’t agree more but when his voice spoke up, both gave him an annoyed look.

Then it was time.

“Merle!” Daryl calls out brushing passed everyone as both Shane and Rick gave Y/N a confused look.

“What?! You think I can instantly get through to the guy? It’s a conversation not a “oh by the way” type shit like you pigs are used to” Y/N scoffs shoving Shane to catch up to Daryl.

“MERLE! GET YOUR UGLY ASS OUT HERE” Daryl shouts once more, surprised slightly that his idiot brother didn’t instantly come. “I got us some squirrel! Gotta help Y/N skin’em for the stew!”

“Daryl, hold up. I need to talk to you” Shane caught up pushing Y/N aside as that lead her to give Lori a glare on the matter given she knows her hatred for the man. Not that she fully expresses it given what she’s walked on in the woods.

Daryl slowed his movement turning around to the pig watching him hesitate before getting to it.

“There’s been an incident in Atlanta…about Merle”

The tension grew in the space making the archer give his only close friend there a blank expression that she wasn’t giving him any answer from hers.

“He dead?”

“We’re not sure” And that caused the emotions to rise.

“He either is or he ain’t!” Daryl rose his voice watching the unfamiliar man bring himself over.

“No easy way to say this so I’ll just say it—-“

“Who are you?”

“Rick Grimes—-“

“Rick Grimes” Daryl mocks watching Y/N get closer to the situation. “You’ve got something you want to tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all” Okay… “So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He’s still there” Rick states watching Daryl’s rage grow on his face as he takes a step back scoffing slightly with a hint of a chuckle.

“Hold on, let me process this—-“ Daryl laughs with the venom in his tone of voice. “You saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and YOU LEFT HIM THERE?!”

The silent “yeah” that came out of Rick made Y/N wince ahead of time for what was about to happen next. Even if Daryl didn’t land a punch on either ex-cops. It wasn’t until Shane started to get Daryl into a chokehold that she brought herself over clawing at him to let go.

“Nah he’s gotta calm down before I—-“ And without another thought, Y/N punched Shane square in the jaw to let go of Daryl. She quickly caught his knife under her foot to swipe it away from him trying to get a shot on the new comer. “You crazy son of a bitch!” He barked at her as Y/N quickly stood in front of Daryl blocking him from either of the two.

“Chokeholds illegal asshole” Y/N barked back getting up in his face to have him stand back and away from Dixon. “Seriously. You fucking morons”

“You clearly didn’t prepare—-“

“Oh and you fucking did?” Y/N scoffs at Rick bringing herself to Daryl. “You need to let me fucking tell you next time so this wouldn’t happen. Can’t have them being fucking entitled dicks to the only motherfucker that understands me! Jesus.”

The tension only grew within the group as Daryl couldn’t calm the pounding in his chest when she said such.

“He listens. Rick’s gonna go and get him” Lori was quick to add crossing her arms as she wasn’t exactly happy about the situation. “He’ll listen to about anybody but his wife.”

Daryl waited for the group to disperse before bringing himself over to Y/N, taking her by the arm and dragging her slightly to his tent.

“You’re hurting me—-“ Y/N frowns as Daryl lets go quickly giving her a stern look before taking her hand into his to check the bruising from punching Shane. “It’s nothing.”

“Okay—-Sure” Daryl scoffs. “Yea ain’t coming”

“Seriously? How the fuck—-“

“YOU JUST AINT” He snaps a bit too close to her face resulting in a flinch coming from her as Y/N puffed up. “I don’t trust that Grimes guy and I ain’t letting yea near him after the fucking stunt he pulled with Merle”

“I can handle myself, Daryl.”

“Yeah. No shit. But you don’t have’ta” Daryl frowns feeling her presence grow closer to his person as he towered her slightly. “You didn’t have to stand up for me”

“Little too late for that. I just…wanted yea to know what happened from someone who gives a damn.” Y/N took a step back keeping her attention on him as the look in his expression seemed to want more and that drew the pounding in her chest to get louder. “Well find Merle, and whether you like it or not. I’m coming with”

I can’t lose you. Daryl frowns followed by a nod deciding not to argue further with the woman.

But nothing went their way since returning back to Atlanta, even when returning back to the quarry empty handed…

After taking out the herd that swept through the quarry camp, Daryl didn’t hesitate to shove T-Dog out of the way of getting to Y/N. She strayed from the group when returning to take out a few walkers by Carol and her daughter, he didn’t see her until the dust settled and wasn’t about to lose his mind all over again.

“You bit?!”

“No! Are you?” Y/N went to check his person as Daryl tugged her aside from everyone else back to their secluded corner. “Daryl please just answer—-“ she was instantly cut off by his lips smashing into hers, making her drop her axe to bring her hands onto either side of his face. In her mind the timing could’ve been better but neither of them was going to interrupt the moment. “Dar—-“ she breathed when their lips parted a moment.

“Ain’t bit.” He quickly responds with while returning his lips to hers as he drops his crossbow to his side bringing his hands to her hips gripping them.

Y/N tugged back a bit receiving a concerned look from Daryl until she brought her hands to his belt and he got the idea. He helped her get the belt off that led her to work at the buttons while he slipped her shirt off quickly bringing his hands back to her hips tugging her jeans down steadying her to finish removing them. Daryl brought his lips to hers once more before moving to her cheek down to her neck and then her collarbone working his way down while helping her descend along with him.

“Can’t—-“ He exhaled suddenly making Y/N stop her actions until he pressed his forehead against hers. “Can’t lose yea” he sighs feeling her arms snake around his neck while he positioned himself in between her legs towering her on the dirt.

“I’m right here, Dixon” She returned her lips quickly to his as he feverishly kissed her while bringing his hands below the belt to remove her panties along with pushing his pants and boxers further for his cock to spring out.

While Y/N found purchase on the back of his shirt, Daryl started to push his length in inch by inch listening to her gasps as she dug her nails into the fabric bringing her legs around his lower back. He didn’t move right away and waited for her to adjust once he was fully sheathed.

“Y/N—-“

“Please” Her voice shook with anticipation wanting him to move but there was more to it as she brushes her face against his feeling his lips graze her features. “Please tell me it ain’t just me”

“It ain’t just you, sunshine” He exhales, starting to move thrusting inside of her warmth listening to her quiet sounds wishing he could drive them out but didn’t want anyone to interrupt them.

As he picked up the pace, Daryl felt her tighten around him drawing a low growl to escape his lips feeling her bring themselves to his shoulder and bite down when she felt the cord begin to snap.

“Let go for me, sunshine” Daryl begged bringing his lips back onto hers listening to her hum while bucking her hips against his as he moans into her mouth at the feeling of her unraveling. “Fuck—“ he pulls out quickly before he could climax inside of her.

The archer carefully lays on top of her feeling her death grip on his shirt weaken and flatten her hands against his torso. Slowly bringing one of her hands to run through his hair as they both panted softly remaining in the other’s embrace.

“Y/N…”

“Hm?”

“I can’t lose yea” Daryl frowns feeling her tighten around him for reassurance.

“You’re stuck with me, Daryl” She laughs softly feeling him shift to rise above her to look at her as she couldn’t help the littlest head tilt wondering more of what’s going on in that mind of his. “What is it?”

“Guess this uh…explains a lot of what I’ve been feelin’ lately” He laughs slightly with her joining.

“Truly, and uhm. I hope this…isn’t the only time and—“

“You’re mine, sunshine. We’re something”

“We’re something” Y/N smiles catching a glimpse of his smile before he started to clean themselves up.

It took them long enough.

[roguelov]

OKAY BUT IMAGINE;

Becoming Morpheus's safe space or his emotional support human. Like one day you're walking through the Dreaming and you find Morpheus, who is completely overwhelmed with his feelings and is hiding from everyone. So you, who has been completely nervous and a little intimidated by him bc he's literally an Endless, go up to him and hug him without hesitation. You comfort him without asking any questions or trying to get him to talk about it. You just let him feel with no judgement.

Que to like maybe a couple weeks or months later where Morpheus just constantly seeks out your touch for comfort. Like will literally cross a whole room just to touch you no matter whoever is there or wherever you two are. He just automatically relaxs at the touch and he also like to see the light blush that appears on your face because despite how normal the touching is by now, he still makes you nervous in a butterflies in the stomach type of way.

OH MY GOD MY HEART IS MELTING AT THIS I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED THIS UNTIL YOU SAID IT

You were in the library assisting Lucienne with reorganizing all the new books. The two of you were talking about anything and everything. It was calm, and enjoyable.

Until such a peace was interrupted.

Hasty footsteps cut through your melodic conversation. You both turned your head to find Morpheus marching through the library. His eyes determined and somewhat harsh as each of his steps were filled with a near righteous purpose. He seemed to be on some personal - and dare you say important - mission. As if, he was trying to locate something, or someone.

Morpheus’s eyes flickered over to you. Instantly, he beelined it directly towards you. Once within your grasp, he hugged you from behind.

Someone. He was trying to find someone, and that being you.

You tensed up, feeling your heart skip. His arms tightened around your waist as he pressed his forehead into your shoulder. He let out a deep long heavy exhale as some internal weight lifted off of him.

Lucienne bit back a smile. You glanced at her with wide eyes, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks. She knew of your small crush on the Endless, a secret she swore to keep. “I will finish later, there are other things I must do,” she said with a slight playfulness in her voice.

You wanted to call out to her, to tell her not to go, but all those words died on your lips. Once she disappeared from sight, you let out a small sigh. She will give you grief later.

“Apologies,” Morpheus murmured, still clinging to you. You tensed at the soft hypnotic timbre of his voice. “It has been a … difficult morning.”

With each passing second, the stress continued to melt off of him. How could one hug, one touch from you, calm him so immensely?

“It’s ok,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “Just took me a bit off guard.”

“Should I -“ he slowly removed his arms.

“No,” you blurted out. “It’s fine, really. You just looked so … so … angry earlier, I didn’t know what you were going to do.”

Morpheus sighed, returning his arms around you grateful for it. “Again, I am sorry if I alarmed you.”

“Please you don’t have to apologize. If I can bring you any kind of comfort then I’m happy to help.”

His arms gave you a small squeeze, almost as if in a silent thank you. “You truly are a wonder to behold,” he whispered.

Your heart fluttered at his touching words. “How so,” you asked with a giddy smile as you placed your hands over top of his.

“You can always calm my chaotic emotions.”

You turned your head slightly to peer at him from the corner of your eye. All you saw was his messy ruffled hair. You leaned your head towards his, and lovingly rest it against his. “Always happy to help,” you whispered softly into his hair.

Morpheus was thankful to have hid his face, for he knew if you looked at him you could see his unspoken love for you. A mortal who went from stranger to confidante. His dear mortal whose words and touch can assuage any turmoil within him. His infatuation that held his heart in a way he could not comprehend. His love who he hoped would stay by his side when he gathered the courage to ask.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

Thank you for everything.

“Of course, I’m always here for you,” you hummed.

[pseudowho]

Infiltration, Chapter Eight: Unchained

Nanami Kento and the reader must pretend to be married to infiltrate a deadly Curse-user cult and take it down from the inside.

*SMUT/NSFW/18+*

THE FINAL CHAPTER!!

A slow-burn fic with fluff/comfort, angst, smut and heroics from our favourite salaryman.

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Kento broke into a jagged run, as an almighty roar burst from the writhing mass above him, the many faces within it screaming in shrill tandem. Kento stumbled, slipping in the rot, cutting his palms open on shards of bone and gristle on his way to you, still hanging, chained, against the wall.

Kento's hands clamped instantly to your face, crying out in disgust and panic as he smeared it with blood and rancid muck. His hands roamed you desperately, from chains, to face, to sliced belly, to waist, to chains, uttering frantic breaking moans-- "no no no, darling please, wake up, I can't do this, I can't do this, please, please". Your pale, lax face shot through him like shards of ice and he sobbed, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your mouth, trying to push life from his own body to yours.

His shredded palms settled on your chains, and Kento roared in frustration as he felt his Cursed-energy output dwindle to nothing the moment he touched them. Kento spun, dropping to his knees and scouring the floor for anything he could use. His hands were scattered, stinging, and landed on a discarded, gouged long-bone; a femur, mostly intact. The biblical darkness crept closer above him, hungry, eager, tentacles and limbs slapping down the walls of this vast deep well towards you.

Brandishing the femur as a weapon, imbuing it with every shred of power he had, Kento stepped into the hit and slashed the wall above your chains in a devastating blow. A spray of damp brick and rubble had the wall buckling, and as the chain's tethers were released, your body slumped downwards. Kento caught you, shielding you from the falling debris, cradling you in his arms as he, you and the chains slapped to the slick icy floor.

Clutching your body to his, Kento begged you to live, begged the empty chamber around him for help-- "I can't-- I can't help you-- don't go yet please don't go yet, we can make it, you can make it...fuck, please!" His trembling hand crept to your belly, glugging blood in lazy, weakening pulses, and Kento's eyes drifted closed.

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"I can get her to Shoko, Nanami-san. It won't be a problem...I know you hate working late. I'm sorry."

"This isn't work. This is...something more. I needed to be here. She needed--" Kento's voice cut off as Ijichi continued to bow his head in apology before him. Kento felt the first heavy splatters of warm summer rain, the sky pregnant with humid downpour. Kento looked to you-- bloody, eyes fixed in mute horror, wrapped in his suit jacket in the passenger seat of his car.

Kento tipped his face back towards the sky, eyes closed, Ijichi unable to see how his face twisted in helpless agony, rage, disgust. He felt the heavy spatters of raindrops on his cheeks, his glasses. He did not know for how long he stood, still. His beige suit had turned tan, his navy shirt sodden, stuck to him, black and warm in this tropical storm.

He wished to be wiped clean. He wished you could sleep and forget. He wished to be baptised and ordained in the arms of someone more powerful than him. He wished, he wished, he wished.

Kento blew it all away, smooth and restrained as he felt trickles run down him, from his shoulders to his belly. He looked back down to Ijichi, his glasses removed and pocketed now, his gaze passive, authoritative.

"She's uninjured. No need to make any more work for Shoko. I'll get her home and...and safe." Ijichi's face contorted in apology again-- not vague apology; sincere apology, grief for the unlived life he had to administrate.

Ducking under the un-trickling veil once more, Kento reached his car, hesitating for just a moment on the door handle before stepping in, sodden against his leather seats. With barely a sideways glance to you, he reached over, the backs of his fingers ghosting over your bare arm. With a grunt, Kento rumbled the engine to life, setting the heaters to maximum.

Kento twisted in his seat, unbelted, and gently grasped your hands. As if dead, in rigor mortis, your limbs refused movement, tight against yourself as Kento tried to urge your hands towards the air vents. He huffed lightly as you trembled, trying to draw your hands back.

"I can't bring her back," Kento strained, his voice tight with regret, "but I can keep you warm. Please. Darling."

Your arms relaxed, melting under Kento's warmth and urgency, and you allowed him to press your hands to the leather-sweet whoosh of warm air. You trembled, nauseous and numb. You stayed this way as Kento reached around you, threading the belt and buckling you in before fixing his own. The car rolled to a start. You had little to no memory of the journey home.

Kento had carried you to your door, seeming so small in his arms, in his suit jacket. Placing you down with utmost delicacy, Kento gripped your upper arms as if afraid you'd fall, before cautiously letting go. He eyed your lock, and surveyed you; no keys, he surmised. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an army knife, multi-functional, well-used, Scandinavian branded. Within seconds, the lock of your door was jimmied open and you were ushered inside.

You had vague memories of being lovingly cleaned with a bowl of warm water, a gentle soft cloth meticulously cleaning blood from your fingernails. Of being verbally dressed, Kento's voice smooth and encouraging outside your bedroom door as your shaking hands pulled pyjamas on. Of being fed, hot soup brought in steady mouthfuls to your lips. Of being tucked into bed, hair stroked out of your free-flowing tears. Of his steadfast presence in the armchair beside your bed as you drifted into an uneasy sleep.

You awoke, your home empty, the apologies for which seemingly drifting like dust-motes in the air around you. Kento had cooked, cleaned, left fresh clothes out for you.

In your shame, and your grief, you saw yourself as a burden. Kento gave you space, always wondering if it was too much or too little.

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There was a pause between heartbeats as panic ebbed away. Kento felt a wave of warmth sweep through him, ushering him, as soft as a wave, to a state above his own body, outside himself, as weightless as a breath. The wave swept back out to sea, taking Kento's warmth with it; he gave it, its strength amplified through his willingness, trickling out through fingertips.

With a gasp and a thump, Kento's heart started again, and you twisted, coughing in his arms, gripping his biceps with cold fingers. Kento choked, gasping and coughing, and you climbed up his lap, your eyes feverish with pain and confusion. Kento swayed, drained.

"You're back-- you're...you're back," he stuttered in disbelief, shaky hands lifting your top and stroking reverently across your intact belly, before rising up to cup your face, his eyes brimming with relief, adoration, joy. You shook, wet cold seeping into your bones, still feeling the handle of death's door in your grasp.

"Kento...what did-- what did you--" Your voice trailed off, disbelieving as you knelt, wet-steel-chafing chains clanking on your wrists. With matching soft smiles, you leaned towards each other, foreheads pressed, clinging in the dark.

As you opened your mouth to speak again, you felt an instinctual sting run down your spine as something powerful, something old stabbed out of the gloom behind you. You grasped Kento, rolling him sideways with you, and felt the air split beside your cheek as a foul black tendril shot like a lance, missing you by a hair's breadth and piercing, instead, into the brickwork on the opposite side of the well.

Kento lay on his side, stunned-- he hadn't felt anything approach. He and you had almost been impaled. His near-fatal exhaustion left him reeling, scraping the barrel, his Cursed-energy depleted by the first and only successful Reverse-cursed technique of his life. He couldn't feel the toes on his broken leg now, and, concerningly, the burning pain had reduced to dull, hot throbs.

As blood whooshed through his ears, sound crept back in and he heard you-- "...up! Kento, get up, we've got to go, we've got to get ou--" Kento felt you stand and draw his arm over your shoulders, and you lifted him with the vigour he had sacrificed to bring you to life.

You roared with exertion as you half-dragged, half-carried Kento partway across the chamber, until he seemed to find his own again, and stumbled with you, his pale face clenched with determination. Ugly crunches shook the ground behind you. Diamond-tipped black tendrils stabbed through the dark, missing you both, rending the ground as the eldritch horror above you roared, hungry, hungry, hungry.

Reaching the rungs of the ladder clinging to the well, you gazed up, stomach sinking as you realised the corrupted goddess blocked your ascension to safety, even if you did both make it up the ladder unscathed. In mute devastation, you gaped. Kento pressed his palms to the wall, pressing his ear flat to it, knocking experimentally with grazed knuckles.

As Kento stepped backwards, drawing back a fist to bring the wall down, seeking a break in the foundations, the fast approaching black tendrils retreated upwards with a snap and a screech-- you both heard shouts above, and the Goddess bellowed, jagged and shrieking, in pain, under attack.

"Nanami! Nanami?" Kento stepped forward, eyes skyward at the sound of Ino's voice. The Goddess reeled backwards, uncovering the surface of the well, and a rumble sounded above, debris falling as she slammed into the walls of the Shrine. Hope sprang up in both of your throats, wordlessly clutching hands as the sounds of battle sprang down the well.

"Nue!" A great masked owl swooped down towards you, landing with a skid, bones crunching beneath its great talons. Upon its back, Megumi leaned forwards, reaching a hand out to you. You faltered as Kento pushed you forwards, and you dug your heels in.

"No, Megumi. Kento first. He's injured." Kento spun to you, clench-jawed and fuming before you pushed him to Megumi. Before Kento could argue, Megumi pulled him towards Nue, and Kento stumbled, clambering upon great red feathers before urging you up into his lap, his thick forearms bound around your waist. With a gut-lurching jolt, the ground leapt away beneath you, and you and Kento felt the frigid slap of snow against your cheeks above the rim of the well.

Landing upon the ground, stepping off, your vision filled with the dreadful horror of the corrupted Goddess. You gasped, recognising the naked human form at its core, buckling under the weight of the twisting bodies and tendrils bursting from its back, vast, almost filling the huge hollow chamber. The woman who had spat venom at you, beaten you to within an inch of your life, on only your second night in the village--

"Emi," you breathed. The pale form of the woman was as a corpse, animated and possessed, as the poisoned Goddess poured out of her, the vessel too small for her containment. Kento was momentarily paralyzed beside you, stunned and reliving his final fight with Haibara Yuu, against a Cursed local deity; boyish terror stripped him bare, no longer a man, no longer a young adult, just a child, a boy, left to fight alone in the dark--

"I'll go," Kento forced, desperate to make amends, bile churning in his belly. You spun to him, to argue, and he interrupted, "I'll go. This needs to end, we need to finish her--"

You stared at Kento in disbelief. You stared into the chaos around you, at brutal short battles being waged between the sorcerers of Tokyo and the remaining few cult members. You stared at Ino, Megumi, Yuuji, Maki, Nobara...all fighting desperately, to keep the eldritch Goddess at bay, fighting a losing battle. You ran your hands in anguish through puzzle pieces, desperate, desperate--

"...but they're dead," you spat, as Kento gripped your shoulders, breathing heavily in his agony, frowning, questioning.

"I...what?" Kento was drowsy, drunk with threatened collapse. His eyes blurred as you nodded frantically to him, cupping his face in your palms.

"The people...the people they fed to the Goddess, they're dead, but that Cursed-energy...is too much to be her own. If they're dead, their Cursed-energy should have died with them."

You watched as the information trickled into Kento, his slim brown eyes flickering as his mathematical brain whirred, remembering Father Tatsu, remembering the brothers' techniques...

"...well no, he...the Father he...stole the peoples' Cursed-energy first and imbued the Goddess with it, to...to make her strong."

With a dull thud of realisation, Kento understood. Ino hit the floor with a sickening crash beside him, scrabbling upright again, his bloody nose oozing out through his balaclava. The Goddess shrieked, black arms flailing, now some eerie creature of the deep, and wildly overpowering the team sent to destroy it.

"Fuck," Ino spat, lurching sideways, staggered, "how is it so fucking strong?"

"The Father who originally transferred all the Cursed energy is still alive," Kento barked, "Father Shinzu. It's the only way, if the original Cursed energy owners are dead." With a hopeful pang, Kento realised the same applied to Father Tatsu, who would be rendered all but harmless with the death of his brother.

"So, kill the transfer-guy, Goddess goes back to being a pussycat, yeah?" Ino nodded, joining the ranks of sorcerers now backing away from the writhing Goddess, "Oh! Almost forgot..."

Reaching behind his back, Ino pulled something harnessed from under his sweatshirt. Kento could have cried to see his spotted blunt-blade, heavy and trustworthy in his hands again. Kento felt he had nothing left to give, but was suddenly safer with his beloved weapon to fight alongside. Kento squeezed Ino's shoulder, and Ino almost melted at the strength of silent thanks passed through him by his mentor.

Reaching out for your hand, Kento impeached you with eyes and words; "come with me," he pressed, leaning down, nose to nose, "we finish this together, or not at all." Hands grazing his jaw, pressing your lips and forehead slowly to his, you nodded.

"Together," you whispered. Kento gripped you by the waist, bound together, as much for him as for you.

"Ino," Kento rumbled, "you hold her off. We'll kill the Father. This will all be over." Ino grinned, saluting, and turned to take charge of the motley crew of sorcerers.

Looking keenly at Kento, you saw the slow blink of his eyes, the slight slump of his shoulders, how his grip wasn't as true on his blade as usual.

"Yuuji," you called, and the boy turned to you with wide eager eyes, "Nanamin's hurt. Come with us." Kento frowned at you again, cross at having been identified as weakened. Yuuji looked at his father-figure, concerned, afraid. With a pause and brief hesitation in the swirling snow, Kento nodded once. Yuuji bounced to attention, the three of you hushing out through the snowstorm, beginning to make your way down the hill back to the Fathers' quarters in search of Father Shinzu.

Visibility was next to nil in this sea of white. The scarlet torii gate split through the storm, but it looked...warped, irregular, as if shattered by something, or someone--

Kento lifted you by the waist, throwing you into a snowdrift with a roar as an almighty crunch split the ground between you, a devastating seam running up the path towards the Shrine. Kento's ears rang, and when the sound faded, all he could hear was his own agonal gasping, so desperately exhausted.

Dust settled over the black crack in the earth; Father Tatsu stood, snarling in pain, twisted over, wrenching his fist from the earth.

"Enough of your interfering, Tsuda," he bellowed, convulsing like a wounded bear, "you and your slut can go hang." Kento snarled back, seeing red as gut-churning rage filled his belly at Father Tatsu's slur. Yuuji circled to the side, head low and ready to pounce. You were gone, lost somewhere in the snow drift.

Kento twizzled his blade once in his grip, before rocking forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet as he panned for scraps of Cursed energy, and found gold. He brought his blade down on the junction of Father Tatsu's neck and shoulder, and the old man crumpled to one knee, crying out in pain, his body woefully unable to contain his stolen power.

"You're dying," Kento hissed, teeth bared in fire and fury, "and you're taking us all down with you." Father Tatsu laughed, one hand on the blade, shaking, his teeth gory with the blood of his bitten tongue. He spat a thick glob of blood and phlegm into Kento's eyes, and Kento's head snapped involuntarily back. Father Tatsu took his chance, kicking Kento's injured leg out from beneath him.

Yuuji bullrushed Father Tatsu, all vigour and inexperience, and was hit with a gut-bursting blow to his belly. As Yuuji fell to his knees, retching and vomiting, Father Tatsu stood over him hands clasped together in one great fist, Cursed-energy belching out of him, to strike a deadly blow to the back of Yuuji's head.

A warning jangle rang behind Father Tatsu, and his head turned imperceptibly, too slow to stop you wrapping your arms round his neck, throttling him with the restraining chains still clamped to your wrists. The thin old skin of Father Tatsu's throat tore beneath the icy chains, their power dulling his Cursed-energy for a few crucial seconds.

"Now, Kento-- NOW!" you screamed, clinging to Father Tatsu as he bucked, strangled. Kento forced himself upwards, and the downy flakes seemed to slow around him, as he entered a state somewhere between rage and serenity. With a crack and flash of black and red, Kento brought his blade down on his own forced gradient.

Father Tatsu died instantly, split from neck to groin in an attack which sent you flying back in the snow. Skidding to a halt, you would remember Kento this way for the rest of your life; black long coat flapping in the wind, snowflakes melting into his bloodsoaked hair, heaving with white-knuckled rage against the monochromatic landscape.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You would not allow Yuuji to kill the comatose old man, surrounded by his own weeping wife and begging nurses.

Shackled to life with cruel intention, brain dead after his efforts to combine Emi with the Goddess, Father Shinzu's bedroom was incongruously crowded by medical equipment. Sounds of life were replaced by regular, irritating bleeps, the mechanical hiss-whirr of a ventilator, the steady march of his own enforced heartbeat.

"I'm sorry," you choked, sincere and nauseous, walking forward with conviction, your fingers settling over pumps, and machines, and devices, the pretence of life, "it has to be this way. He has to die."

Father Shinzu's wife darted forwards as you began to turn off equipment. Her tearstained, twisted face broke your heart as you ended Father Shinzu's life support. Yuuji flung out an arm, holding her back, pale as he watched you work.

Father Shinzu's heart beat for only a few moments after the beeps of the equipment ceased...and the room soon rang with the reedy bleep of his heart flat lining, as his wife screamed at you to stop, furious helplessness in her eyes. Yuuji let go of her, turning with his face in his hands as Kento entered the room.

You stood, eyes closed and silently weeping. The overwhelming pulses of Cursed energy from the Shrine died with Father Shinzu. A few ear-splitting screeches from the top of the snowy hill...and, the unmistakeable silence of the grave.

"You bitch," Father Shinzu's wife screeched, lurching to her feet, rushing at you, and you had the barest moment to see a metallic glint in her hand, "you ungrateful bitch!"

A field of black in your vision- a dull thud, a gasp of air leaving lungs.

"Nanamin-- NANAMIN!"

Your hands shook, head shaking in silent disbelief as Kento dropped to his knees in front of you, and he stared, stunned, at the knife in his chest. He turned to look up at you, apologetic, questioning, confused.

You caught him before he slumped sideways to the floor, struggling to heave his bulk into your lap, sobbing and crying out for him as his breaths grew wet. Sound closed in on you as you begged Kento, hearing Yuuji beg the medical staff in the room for help, corralling them, grabbing them.

As you stared around for help, wild-eyed and sobbing, you felt a large, warm hand come up to cup your cheek. Kento coughed, lips stained with blood, as he gazed up at you with such a tender smile that you wracked with tears, clutching him to you.

"...love you...always knew-- I always knew--" You shook your head as Kento nodded, smoothing his thumb down your nose, across your cheeks, committing you to memory.

"You owe me a date," you wept, pressing your lips to his forehead, "you can't-- you owe me a date--" Kento chuckled, wet and weak...and silenced. You shook him. His body was loose on your lap, a soft smile fixed on his lips, his eyes drifting closed, the run of his blood over your lap stopping.

"Kento-- no-- KENTO!"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

It was a crisp, bright day. Ijichi grieved its passing as he grieved the passing of friends, colleagues, strangers-- administrating, administrating, administrating.

Yaga Masamichi sat opposite Ijichi, a swirl of steam rising from the coffee pot between them. He flipped slowly through folders, an uninterpretable grunt voiced after each one.

"Too many dead," he stated, blunt and low. Ijichi hummed, solemn.

"Imbuing a fertility goddess with Cursed energy..." Ijichi sighed, "...and for what? A dead cult. Dead sorcerers. A dead goddess." Ijichi sighed again, deeper this time, "And so much paperwork."

"So much overtime," Yaga hummed. He stopped, reminded, "speaking of overtime, Ijichi...how is Nanami?"

Ijichi looked up, smiling.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"...stab wound penetrating the left lung, one very broken leg, some cracked ribs from the CPR, abrasions...you're lucky the medical staff there helped you, Nanami."

Nanami grumbled, still aching and scarred, despite Shoko's efforts to heal him after Father Shinzu's doctors and nurses had intervened.

Shoko almost giggled, taking a long, slow draw on her cigarette, "I wouldn't have helped you if you'd just murdered my patient in front of me."

"The murder was all mine, actually," you piped up, batting away Kento's sore hands, buttoning up his shirt for him as he pressed his nose and lips to your hair, "but this guy, just can't stop himself from being a hero--"

"--darling, I was just doing my job--"

"-- swooping in at the last minute to save me--"

"--really now, you think I'd just let you--"

"--and he still owes me a date."

Kento laughed despite himself, fixing you with a stern look; "Darling...read the room."

You pursed your lips in mirth, cupping Kento's face in your hands, staring into each others' eyes, seeing only each other and the promise of a better life. Shoko smiled fondly at you both, tapping at her cigarette thoughtfully.

"I'd say you two deserve a holiday. A real one."

Kento leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, basking in your warmth; "Where should we go, my love?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Infiltration is finiiiiiiiished! 🎇 ❤️ 🍾

Thank you so much to all my readers; those who have been, those who are, and those yet to come.

You've all made this so much fun.

Yours, faithfully,

Haitch xxx

[drvirgus]

Commitment & Responsibility

Yeji X Fem! Reader

Description: The life of Yeji and her Girlfriend Yn

Warnings: G!P Yeji, Smut, Angst

Chapter 5:

Two full days had passed, and somehow, neither of us found the right moment to talk. Something always seemed to come up, interrupting our attempts to have a conversation.

But now? Now I came across another article. Yeji had been spotted on another date. Both of them were apparently caught at the movies...

Today, I had a day off. After everything that had happened, I deserved this day off so much. However, I spent my free day watching videos of Yeji.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Furrowing my brow, I stood up. It was the afternoon, and I hadn't ordered any food. So, who could be ringing the doorbell?

I made my way to the door and opened it. My eyes widened as I saw Ryujin's face. She smiled slightly and held up a bag full of my favorite snacks. Smiling, I let her in.

Ryujin immediately placed the bag on the coffee table without saying a word. She went into the kitchen and promptly brought out plates and glasses.

I simply shrugged and made my way to the living room. Curiously, I watched the woman who sat down next to me. She took the cheesecake out of the bag.

"I really don't know which one of you I should smack," Ryujin said as she cut the cake and placed a slice on my plate. She looked at me.

"Do you really think I gave up on my feelings just to hand you over to a cheater?" Ryujin asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at me.

Surprised, my eyes widened. I swallowed. But Ryujin sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Tell me... do you believe the article?" she asked, looking at me curiously.

My mouth opened slightly. Almost instantly, my jaw tensed. "I don't know. When I first read the article, I didn't believe it... but... she didn't respond to any of my messages, didn't show up for our date... She came home drunk and kept apologizing," I replied, my body tense. "Her apologies... made me believe it," I added, sadly lowering my gaze to the floor.

Ryujin nodded understandingly. She took a bite of the cake. "Yeji is feeling terrible. And so are you," Ryujin said. One of her eyebrows raised as she looked at me, a small smile on her lips. "Talk to each other," she instructed.

Almost immediately, a sigh escaped me. "Our timing... seems to be really shitty. And... I'm scared," I replied. Ryujin's eyes widened almost instantly. She looked at me.

"I'm afraid it could be true... I'm afraid... she'll break up with me. Afraid of what she'll say... I'm afraid this one conversation will be our last," I answered. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I focused on the piece of cake in front of me. I ate it.

"Oh... and what's this?" she asked, and my eyes automatically widened. She had... found my gift for Yeji. She opened the box, and her mouth fell open.

She must have expected a ring... But no. It was just a key to this apartment... I wanted to ask if Yeji wanted to move in with me.

My jaw tensed as Ryujin silently closed the box and placed it back on the table. She pointed at it with her finger. "Then what about this?" she asked, looking at me.

I bit my lower lip. I placed my plate on the coffee table and turned my body towards Ryujin. "I want Yeji to move in with me... I love her," I truthfully answered. Ryujin smirked and nodded.

"Then get off your damn ass and tell her!" Ryujin replied, and almost immediately, I hesitated. Nervously, I bit my lip as I laughed a bit. I blinked several times. "But... this whole thing... it's still between us," I said in a softer tone. The tears still present in my eyes.

Suddenly, I felt Ryujin's hand over my eyes. She chuckled softly. "Don't worry about that, y/n. Really," she replied. She wiped the tears from my eyes while smiling at me. It had been a while since she smiled so gently.

I heard a startled gasp. Ryujin removed her hands from my eyes. I immediately looked at the person standing in the hallway. My eyes widened as I saw Yeji's face.

Yeji's eyes shifted from Ryujin to me and then back to Ryujin. The woman with short hair smiled knowingly. She stood up from the couch. "That was a nice conversation, y/n. But I should go now," Ryujin said as she approached Yeji. She placed a hand on the taller girl's shoulder. "Don't screw it up."

It didn't take long for me to hear the door close. The whole time, I stared at Yeji with my mouth open. Yeji, however, looked quite uncertain now.

"What... was Ryujin doing here?" she asked, biting her lip. Her eyes slightly narrowed. I stood up from the couch. I also bit the inside of my cheek. My eyes locked straight onto the older person.

"She wanted to cheer me up... she said you didn't cheat on me," I said, and Yeji's eyes widened. With quick steps, she approached me. Her hands now on my upper arms as she looked into my eyes. Her face serious.

"I didn't cheat on you! I... would never do that, y/n," she said earnestly. I saw no trace of doubt in her eyes. I swallowed as my face contorted sadly. I looked away from her face.

"Then... why did you apologize? Why didn't you just reply to me? Why did you come to me drunk?" I asked, my shoulders tense as her hands exerted more pressure.

"I... apologized?" she asked, and with wide eyes, I just stared at her. She let go of my arms and sighed, sitting on my couch. She rested her head on her hands.

"I can't remember, y/n... but I never cheated on you. I wanted to go to our date, and then JYP wanted to talk to me," she sighed. She lifted her head as she took my hand in hers. She looked at me pleadingly. "Please... let me explain," she added.

I hesitated, but eventually nodded. I sat down beside her. Yeji turned her body towards me, never letting go of my hands as she looked deeply into my eyes. Nervously, I swallowed.

"Yuna's live broadcast on her birthday went viral. They apparently saw us kissing," she revealed, and almost immediately, my eyes widened, and my mouth opened in shock. I gasped for air. "But don't worry. They couldn't see you. They only saw your hands on my back," she added, trying to reassure me.

I nodded to show that I understood and was still listening intently. Yeji had my full attention. The older girl sighed again. "JYP gave me a choice... either break up-"

"-or enter into a fake relationship," I interjected, finishing her sentence. Yeji nodded her head. I looked into her eyes and couldn't help but laugh a little. Yeji now looked quite confused.

"Sorry... this whole thing... I feel like I'm in a drama," I said, laughing. "You chose the fake relationship? Just so you wouldn't break up with me?" I asked, a small grin forming on my face.

Yeji immediately nodded her head. "I would never break up with you. Under no circumstances! I love you, y/n. With all that I have," she said immediately, her eyes slightly narrowed.

I smiled. My body visibly relaxed, and I let out a sigh. "I'm sorry for missing our date," she said, now speaking softer, and almost immediately, I shook my head.

"The date wasn't important," I said, and Yeji frowned in dissatisfaction. But I just smiled and took the box from the table. "This was important... I wanted to give you this on our date," I added, smiling as I saw Yeji take the box in her hands.

Nervously and also curiously, she opened the box. She blinked in surprise as she held the key in her hand. With wide eyes, she looked at me. "Is this...?" she asked, but her breath caught in her throat as she looked into my smiling face.

I nodded my head. "The key to this apartment," I said. I looked straight into her eyes. "Move in with me," I said, and Yeji's eyes widened in astonishment.

Almost immediately, she threw herself into my arms, a wide grin on her lips. "God, y/n," she said, almost breathless. I laughed, my hands on her back. Yeji buried her head in the crook of my neck. "Yes. Let's move in together," she said.

I smirked, smiling as she lifted her head and looked directly into my eyes. My heartbeat quickened as she pressed her lips against mine. I immediately responded to the kiss.

[archiveikemen]

Abe no Yasuchika Main Story: Chapter 20

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting┊aikm’s Genjiden Glossary

Yuno: Stop it…!

I thought I saw Yasuchika-san frown for a split second when he heard me.

Yasuchika: … Ahaha, what's with that look?

Yasuchika: I’m not going to show any mercy just because it’s you. — We’re enemies.

(Of course I know that.)

(That's how it has always been.)

The harsh reality I was confronted with shattered my heart.

Yasuchika-san approached me with his silver sword drawn.

Yuno: N-No.

(I have to do something before it’s too late.)

A soldier fell to the ground after being attacked by an ayakashi.

Yasuchika: What do you intend to do? Helpless little Fox Princess?

My throat felt dry and I felt like I was going to throw up.

(I wonder if Yasuchika-san is feeling this way too.)

(Is there any way I can protect him?)

Yuno: AAAAAAAAAAAA

I kicked my feet off the ground and dashed towards Yasuchika-san, letting my emotions, that could neither be classified as anger nor sadness, control me.

Yasuchika: …!

Pulling out the dagger as I ran, I held my breath and—

I cut Yasuchika-san’s hand just as he was about to toss out a talisman.

Yasuchika: Gghh…

White smoke was pouring out Yasuchika-san’s wound.

Yasuchika: This is… a cursed object.

The black shadows that had been attacking the soldiers disappeared back into the ground.

(There…!)

The amulet bracelet on my wrist, that I hesitated to remove, swayed “sadly” when I hurt Yasuchika-san.

Doman: Good job — young lady.

Yuno: Ashiya Doman…

The wind howled, creating an ominous atmosphere.

Almost instantly, all the unharmed soldiers crumble to the ground like puppets that had their strings cut off.

Yuno: Wha… What did you just do!?

Doman: Relax. They were in my way, so I let them take a little nap.

Yasuchika-san held onto his wound and said to Doman,

Yasuchika: You must be really interested in Yuno-san, huh. You have good taste.

Doman: It's your fault this young lady was chosen by me.

Doman: Did it hurt your feelings when she slashed you? Abe no Yasuchika. Your movements have become sloppy.

Yasuchika: …

(I didn't mean to… hurt his feelings.)

Doman: Oh well. Let’s end this off once and for all, shall we? Descendant of the Abe Clan.

Doman pointed his pale hand towards Yasuchika-san.

Yuno: Wait!

At the same time, I held my palm out at Doman.

Yasuchika: …?

Doman: — What are you interrupting me for?

Yuno: You’re a vengeful spirit who released ayakashi all over Kyōto, harming the townspeople.

Yuno: I won’t let you harm any more people, and that includes my enemy Yasuchika-san.

Doman: What a load of crap… you were the one who decided to use the cursed dagger I gave you.

Yuno: I’m using you, the same way you made use of me.

Yuno: I will stop at nothing to protect the people I love, and I won't regret it.

Yasuchika: … Yuno-san.

Yuno: Please stand back, Yasuchika-san!

Yuno: I don't care who or what you are, I will never let Doman lay a finger on you.

Yasuchika: — Even if I’m the biggest villain of all?

Yuno: You have a bad habit of not wanting to be saved by others.

Yasuchika: …

Yuno: But if you have even the slightest speck of hope that you can be saved…

Yuno: Please… tell me.

Yasuchika: Nah.

Yasuchika-san smiled and grabbed my hand that was still holding onto the dagger.

(What…?)

Yasuchika: That's the part of you that… irks me.

He whispered as he stabbed the dagger into his heart.

Yuno: What the…

My mind blanked out and I felt suffocated.

(He needs first aid NOW!)

Yasuchika: This is fine.

Doman: Yasuchika. W— What the hell do you mean by that?

Yasuchika-san smiled at Doman with his face completely drained of blood.

The blood dripping down from the wound in his chest dyed the ground a bright crimson red.

Yasuchika: Because of you, I was able to come up with this spell. In this supposedly helpless state… I can turn things around in a snap.

(What is he talking about?)

Yasuchika: I’ve tested this out on countless low-grade ayakashi…

Doman: No—

Doman’s instincts told him something was off before he could even comprehend what Yasuchika-san was saying with his ragged breaths.

The hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end.

Yasuchika: “Bloodshed is the price… and life is my catalyst.”

Yuno: Stop! Yasuchika-san—

(Ack.)

Yasuchika-san shoved me aside when I tried to stop him.

Yasuchika: Sorry.

Doman: To hell with you…!

The fuming Doman attempted to grab Yasuchika-san.

Yasuchika: I never hated you, Ashiya Doman.

Yasuchika: Because you… you are like me.

Yasuchika: And if I never met Akihito-sama, I would've suffered the same fate you did.

Yasuchika: Come. Allow me to swallow all your hatred. Go ahead, curse me with all your soul.

Yasuchika-san removed the dagger from his chest with great force.

Doman: Ggh…

Doman’s face twisted in pain.

A black colored light emitted from his body and penetrated into Yasuchika-san’s wound.

(The bleeding… it stopped.)

Doman: You FOOL! What Onmyōji willingly lets a vengeful spirit into his body!?

Yasuchika: Think of it as some kind of one-sided deal.

Yasuchika: Usually you won’t be able to form a spiritual bond with an Onmyōji because your curse and their powers will cancel each other out, but…

Yasuchika: You were an Onmyōji yourself, Doman. I just thought it might be possible if I used this technique.

Yuno: YASUCHIKA-SAN!

I shouted at the top of my lungs because an invisible barrier prevented me from getting close to him.

Doman’s figure was slowly fading away.

Doman: Am I… disappearing?

Yasuchika: That's right. And I’m becoming stronger.

Doman's eyes were filled with hatred.

Doman: I was defeated again… but listen up, Abe Clan’s prodigy.

Doman: I left you a little parting gift on this battlefield.

(A gift?)

Doman: You should at least do something with it.

Yasuchika: …

Doman vanished completely, along with the dagger in Yasuchika-san’s hand.

(What just happened…?)

Yasuchika: I’m curious to find out what Doman left behind, but… looks like I’ve won.

Yuno: Why did you… let that vengeful spirit into your body?

Yasuchika: There's only one reason.

Despite the sinister glint in his eyes, they looked rather sad.

Yasuchika: I’ve always wanted to grow more powerful, so that I can protect my loved ones and they won't have to get their hands dirty.

Yasuchika: But that’s not easy to achieve. I alone am not skilled enough to fulfill that small dream of mine.

Yasuchika: That’s why… I’m giving up my humanity.

(What…)

— A red bruise-like mark was slowly forming on Yasuchika-san’s face.

(What is that…)

The whites of his eyes turned black.

Yasuchika: Nng…

Yasuchika-san winced in pain through his thin lips.

He then looked up and took a deep breath.

Yasuchika: I’ve kept you waiting, Yuno-san.

(... I’m scared.)

The man standing before me definitely wasn't the Yasuchika-san I knew.

(Just being near him is giving me the creeps.)

Yasuchika: Let's get started.

Yuno: … Don’t come any closer.

Yasuchika-san calmly closed up the distance between us as I backed away.

(The soldiers… they’re still unconscious.)

Yasuchika: Hey, Yuno-san. Do you still remember that time you got dragged into that realm in between this world and the underworld?

Yuno: Why do you ask?

The moment I was about to make a break for it—

(Kyaa!?)

I felt my body float into the air and fall through a hole that formed right underneath my feet.

Yasuchika: There we go.

Yasuchika: I knew there was a portal hidden somewhere, so I used the cursed powers to open it.

Yasuchika: My new powers sure make things more convenient.

(How am I going to get myself out of here…?)

Yasuchika: This is the end of you, Fox Princess.

Yasuchika: Why don't you try bawling your eyes out and begging me for your life?

Yuno: I… I’m not doing that.

Yasuchika: Okay then.

Trembling in fear, I looked up at Yasuchika-san.

Yuno: Is there a way to break this spell?

Yasuchika: Even if there is, I’m not doing that.

Yuno: Are you sure you don't want to undo this?

Yuno: Is this what Akihito-sama wants you to do to yourself?

Yasuchika: …

Yasuchika: This is my own decision. Akihito-sama is a kind person.

(How did you come to this point?)

Overwhelmed by frustration and pain, tears were welling up in my eyes.

Yasuchika: … I don't understand.

Yasuchika: Is there a reason why you care so much about me?

(... Are you seriously asking me that?)

Yuno: Yes… there is.

I strongly urged myself to express my thoughts in words.

A single tear trickled down my face.

Yuno: It's because I like you.

Yuno: Therefore, even if we’re enemies, I don't… I don't want you to turn into something you’re not.

(— I said it. There’s no turning back now.)

I heard Yasuchika-san inhale sharply.

Yasuchika: … Can you not make such horrible jokes?

Yasuchika: There is nothing likable about me. At all.

Yuno: — You just don't see it in yourself.

Yasuchika: Shut up.

I choked when he wrapped a hand around my throat.

Yasuchika: You like me, even when I’m doing such a terrible thing to you?

Yasuchika: You must be insane.

(I. can't. Breathe.)

He wasn't exactly strangling me, but his touch was enough to make my brain turn hazy.

(No more… no.)

Yasuchika: …

(...? Why is he looking at me like that…)

Still in a daze, I reached up and touched Yasuchika-san’s cheek.

Yasuchika: W-What are you…

(Don't cry.)

I couldn't speak, so the most I could do was mouth those words to him.

Yasuchika-san suddenly pulled away.

Yuno: Cough…

I coughed and took a breath of fresh air.

Yasuchika: — You’re the one who’s crying.

(Oh, I am.)

I didn't realize that my cheeks were wet.

(But…)

Yuno: The only reason why you’re not crying, is because you don't know how to.

Yasuchika: What?

Yasuchika-san put his hand over his chest where his heart is.

Yasuchika: … It hurts.

Yuno: …! Is it your wound?

Yasuchika: No.

Yasuchika-san’s voice was trembling.

Yasuchika: … Whenever I’m with you, I feel like I can’t be myself.

Yasuchika: My eyes are unwittingly drawn to you, and my heart breaks whenever I look at you.

I asked in a hoarse voice.

Yuno: Why?

Yasuchika: I… I like you. And I don't want to like you.

Yasuchika: If only I never liked you, then I can hurt you however I want and laugh it off.

Yasuchika-san covered the hopeless expression on his face with his hand.

Yasuchika: You were the one who gave me warmth and made me feel loved.

[wkemeup]

Graveyard

summary: As the unofficial healer for the Avengers, you pride yourself on the ability to mend heroes with the touch of your hand. Only, your gift comes at a heavy price — one you keep secret from your friends —and when Bucky asks you to do the impossible, they’ll discover why your gift is called a sacrifice, too.  pairing: bucky x healer!reader word count: 10k warnings: canon level violence

As a child, you were told it was a gift; placed upon a pedestal above the quaint suffering of a rural town and removed of your innocence for the good of strangers. You’d been made to be revered – honored – for the touch that could mend the broken.  

It began with a cut upon your father’s finger – a slip of a kitchen knife that had left a small bead of blood in its wake. Curious eyes glanced up at your father as he hissed at the sting of it and you’d reach forward to place your infant hand upon the cut, a grip so mall it barely wrapped around his finger. He stilled as a soft glow began to emit from your palm. When you removed your hand and began to cry, your father was stunned to find his skin perfectly intact – no trace of a scar in its place.  

They told you it was a gift, celebrated you as if you were a blessing from Heaven itself. But they were cruel in their rejoice, selfish in their praise. They had not considered your gift was not a gift at all – but a sacrifice.  

Like energy, pain could not be destroyed— but it could be absorbed. It could be transferred. Your father’s cut had not simply disappeared, but instead manifested on the finger of an infant for a few short moments before it faded into your skin; laid to rest amongst a sea of foreign injuries that did not belong to you.  

“Look sharp, kid! We’ve got incoming,” Banner’s voice startled you from your thoughts as he stood at the doorway to your lab. Arms folded over his chest, an amused smirk upon his face, he must have caught sight of the quinjet landing in the hanger from the windows overlooking the loading dock.  

You nodded, setting down the drill beside the stun absorption pad you were engineering for Stark’s newest suit. You didn't have to wonder long who was on the latest mission and currently on their way to your office, because a familiar bickering began to carry down the hall and into the lab, forcing a smile onto your face.  

For a mechanical engineer, you saw more of the Avengers post-mission than the med wing did these days. You’d been hired for your multiple PhDs and borderline genius IQ, but once you’d rushed across the room to spare Stark from a rather unpleasant laceration on his palm from an experiment gone haywire, your lab had quickly become a rotating door of injured Avengers.  

Sure enough, Barnes and Wilson stumbled their way into the lab, Sam draped over Bucky’s shoulder, barely able to put any pressure on his left leg. While Sam tossed you his charismatic grin and those big, round, puppy dog eyes, Bucky favored to dispose of his partner on the lab table with an aggravated grunt.  

“What do we have today?” you smirked, rolling up the sleeves of your coat as Bruce shook his head in amusement.  

“Broken ankle, I think,” Sam replied, gesturing to the mess of bandages and improvised splint.  

You nodded as you stepped closer, examining the injury before you brushed a hand over the swollen joint. Sam whined at the contact, the pain clearly breaking through the lighthearted grin upon his face though he tried to suppress it. His hand curled into a fist.  

“You know I’m not a medical doctor, but I’d have to agree,” you nodded, planting your hands on your hips.  

“You could just get the x-rays and go through PT like a normal person,” Bucky grumbled off in his corner of the room, narrowing his eyes in warning upon his partner. “She’s not here as your personal healer, Wilson.”  

Bucky was always hesitant of your powers. He never said why, but you wondered most days if he was still seeking penance for the evils he’d committed under Hydra, if maybe he felt as though giving you his pain absolved him in a way he was not worthy of.  

Or perhaps it was a degradation of his pride. Men often found strength in their ability to withstand pain. Though, it seemed to bother him when the others would come to you for injuries like this, too, almost as if he worried they were taking advantage of you.  

He was a good man; certainly, more concerned with your consent in healing his friends than your parents and the town who spent your childhood exploiting you ever were.  

“I don’t mind, Bucky,” you told him, smiling encouragingly back at him until he started to relax his shoulders and uncrossed his arms, softening under your gaze. “If it means less time on the bench and more time out there saving lives and having your back, I don’t mind at all.”

“Yeah, Barnes, who’s going to watch your back if I’m held up in a cast?” Sam teased, chuckling under his breath until Bucky stepped forward and not so subtly bumped his hip to the side of the lab table. The sudden disruption of the table moved his ankle just enough to instantly wipe the grin from Sam’s face.  

“Try to relax for me, Sam,” you eased, stepping forward as you started to remove your gloves. You leaned over the edge of the table, slowly removing the splint and the bandage surrounding the swollen muscle. You handed it off to Bucky as you examined the dark purple and blue discoloration on his ankle.  

He hissed as you laid your palms on his leg, clenching down on his jaw.  

You closed your eyes, concentrating as you felt for the break beneath the surface. A crack splintered through the bone, the surrounding tissue swollen and aching.  

A gentle glow began to emit from your palms, a warmth that spread from your hands and directly onto Sam’s skin, through the muscle, and deep into the bone. You could feel the subtle fragments as they began to mend, the swell in his joint as it shrank, the slight movements as he regained feeling.  

Exhaling a tense breath, you shifted your stance onto your right leg as the pressure started to build in your ankle. It wouldn’t last long, just a few minutes in comparison to the weeks of treatment and months of physical therapy Sam would have endured – an easy trade for a man who spend his days so selflessly on the line in the service of strangers.  

You could sense Bucky watching you and you were careful not to let the pain show on your face. There was a privilege in healing the Avengers like this. It gave your life meaning beyond the injuries of your hometown; of careless teenagers falling off skateboards or angry men in bars who took an argument a drink too far. You’d happily take on a few moments of pain in service of heroes.  

Not that you’d let them know.  

“You should be good now.” You held your hands up, the soft glow fading away from your palms as you tucked your hands into your pockets. Careful of the momentary break in your ankle, you took a cautious step away from the table to lean on the chair at your desk. No one noticed the wince in your expression as you put the slightest pressure on the fresh injury.  

“I will never get tired of that.” Sam looked down at the foot in awe, rolling at the ankle and amazed to find the swelling and bruising disappeared completely. He jumped down from the table, bounding on his feet just to test out the freedom in his mobility.  

“Alright, Wilson. Enough,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re going to hurt yourself again and Y/n’s not going to be so generous next time.”

Sam smirked, pausing for a moment as he contemplated. “Nah, my girl will always take care of me. Won’t ya, sugar?”  

It didn’t slip your notice when Bucky tensed up at the pet name. You started to laugh, the teasing smile dropping from his face as his hands curled into fists. Sam really knew how to press his buttons and it seemed, surprisingly enough, you were one of them.  

“Bucky’s got a point, you know. Fancy healing powers are reserved for field injuries these days.” You were only teasing, both of them knowing you’d have healed a papercut if they’d ask. Still, Bucky smirked, taunting Sam over your shoulder as if he’d won.  

You eased yourself off the chair as you started to regain feeling in your ankle, giving more pressure to the heel to find it barely noticeable. You rubbed at the joint with your right shoe to find the swelling had disappeared as well.  

A few moments to spare him weeks of pain. Easy trade.

“What about you, Sergeant?”  

Bucky paused, raising an eyebrow at you.  

You took a step forward, glancing over him in search of injuries. Nothing more than a few cuts that his own advanced healing would take care of overnight. Still, there was one injury you’d been trying to convince him to allow you to heal in the year since you’ve known him.  

“You going to let me work on your shoulder yet or are you still being a masochist?”  

Sam snickered under his breath as he crossed the room to watch what Banner was doing over his shoulder. Bucky gave you that knowing smile of his, the one that pushed up into his eyes and left behind beautiful creases and lines on his face; an exhale of a laugh on his breath.  

“It’s not necessary, doll. I’m fine.”

A frown tugged at your lips. “You always say that, and yet...”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Bucky shrugged. He was watching you with those sweet eyes of his, creating a warmth that spread in your chest entirely independent of the powers in your hands.  

“You shouldn’t have to handle it in the first place,” you pressed, a pain in your voice as he placed a hand on your shoulder, letting it slide down your arm. It was an intimate gesture, more contact that he had with most people, and he offered it willingly. You tried not to let the shivers show in your spine as he pulled away.  

It looked as though he wanted to say more, but Steve suddenly appeared in the doorway, causing Bucky to take an abrupt step away from you. You hadn’t realized how close you’d been standing to one another.  

“Debrief in five,” Steve ordered, eyeing Sam and Bucky, though paused as he saw you, offering a short smile in acknowledgement before disappearing down the hall.  

“I’m not letting this go, just so you’re aware,” you teased, pointing at Bucky’s shoulder as he started to wave Sam towards the door. He smiled, keeping his back to you until Sam was clear of the room and he leaned into the open frame, one quick glance back at you.  

“Wouldn’t expect anything less, doll.”

***

The next month saw another broken leg, a fractured clavicle, two minor lacerations, a sprained wrist, and a number of superficial cuts – all from various members of the team. Though there was always the one exception who wouldn’t accept your offer no matter how badly he was favoring his right arm.  

The clavicle was certainly a challenge to get through, but the world needed Natasha Romanoff in the field, not strung up on a gurney and a brace for a handful of months. It took longer than some of the other injuries to heal, but you’d managed, even if you had to excuse yourself to the restroom as soon as you’d finished, even if you had to shove a towel into your mouth to keep from screaming as it mended itself together under your skin.  

The truth was you liked being useful. You liked the stunned smiles on their faces and the appreciation in their eyes. You liked seeing them run a hand over perfectly smooth skin where an open wound had just been. It gave you a purpose.  

And sure – your work on SHIELD tech was important and perhaps not all of the injuries in your hometown had been a waste of your abilities, but there was something exceptionally gratifying in mending someone who was untouchable, in healing the people who saved the world.

You’d take a dozen broken clavicles for them.  

It was late after your evening shift and you’d taken to running a few laps on the indoor track around the gym. Blow off some steam, use the state-of-the-art equipment Stark spent thousands of dollars on, give your mind something to think about beside how you were going to rewire Sam’s wings to expand in a more fluid motion.  

You’d just started to break into a sweat when you noticed Bucky setting up at the row of punching bags. The gym was otherwise empty as the sky favored the stars over the sun, and you started to smile as you watched Bucky shrug off his jacket and drop the bag at his feet. He rolled back his shoulders, concentrating on the bag as he readied his fists. But as the first punch hit the bag, the smile quickly fell from your face.  

It echoed up into the rafters, startling you enough to still your sprint abruptly. He let out a grunt as he pummeled at the bag; left jab, right hook, kick, until it broke at the seams and split open to spill sand in heaps upon the ground. He moved on to the next one.  

You clasped a hand to your mouth, looking around the gym to confirm you were in fact alone with him. He’d been on a mission as far as you were aware for the last week. You’d missed him hanging around the lab, asking questions as you worked on new advancements on the stun guns for field agents. He must have gotten back a few hours ago and something clearly went wrong.  

“Bucky?” you called, voice far too soft to be heard across the gym and above the thunderous clash of his knuckles to leather. You jogged a few paces closer, wincing as he threw the entirely of his momentum into a hit that would have broken an ordinary man’s hand. “Bucky? Are you alright?”

But he didn’t hear you. You took a cautious look back at the doors, wondering if you should go find Steve, or maybe even Sam – someone who might know what happened, someone who might be able to talk him down. But you were the only one around. You cleared your throat, stepping up just behind him.  

“Bucky?”

You hit the ground before you knew what had happened.  

A blinding pulsing in the back of your head, the wind momentarily knocked from your lungs, you opened your eyes to find Bucky hovering over you. He held a closed fist in the air, the other digging sharply into your shoulder between his grip, pupils blown wide and dark. It took a moment before he seemed to realize who was laying under him.

“Y/n?” He blinked, confused. His stare flickered to the fist held above your head, knuckles dripping red and bloody, and he pulled away instantly, a flash of horror written over his features. “Shit-- I didn’t... What are you doing here?”

You rubbed at the back of your head, brushing over a slight bump that would certainly mend itself within a few minutes. Slowly, you sat up, careful of the sudden darkness that swept over your eyes, though something cool grabbed onto you before you could fall back against the floor.  

“Hey, come lean against the wall, okay?” Bucky urged, carefully guiding you to adjust your position until you could press your back to the chill of the plastered walls. You sighed in contentment, the pain in your pain already dissipating. Bucky swallowed nervously. “Did I hurt you?”

“I don’t stay hurt for long, Buck,” you told him with a teasing smile, though he did not return it. You set a hand on his forearm, squeezing it lightly before returning it to your lap. “I’m alright. I promise. Are you?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes.

“You were beating that punching bag within an inch of its life,” you clarified, chuckling as you gestured to the exploded bag on the floor, and then to the one still hanging with sand streaming down the seams.  

“Rough mission,” was all he said, his eyes downcast.  

You nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, listening to the soft buzz of the air conditioner and the faint chirp of crickets outside the windows. You didn’t expect him to say anything. Bucky was a man of few words, but you hoped the company was enough. He didn’t make an effort to move away, not even when your thigh brushed against his.  

He was trying to close his fist when you heard him hiss in pain. His right hand was coated in dried blood and fresh, open wounds on his knuckles. They’d barely started to crust over and with every attempt to close his fist, they cracked open, drawing a painful sting in their place.  

“Will you let me heal your hand?”

Bucky paused, setting his hand down on his leg. “Y/n, it’s not necessary. I won’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering,” you countered. “Besides, it is necessary, actually. How are you going to punch the bad guys if you can’t close your fist?”

“I’ve got another,” Bucky argued back, though a smile had etched its way onto his face. He raised his left hand, making a show of it as he curled his fingers into a fist one by one. “This one’s pretty indestructible so...”

“Please, Bucky.” You turned towards him, folding your legs as you held out your left hand for him to take. “Just this once. Let me do this.”

A stormy array of ocean blue and thunderous skies stared back at you, unsure. His eyes flickered down to your hand. Always so hesitant to ask for help, always so reluctant to accept the good things when they were offered. But as he watched you, searching for signs to run, to back out, something softened.  

He swallowed and slowly, placed his right hand into yours.  

You smiled, adjusting your grip gently on his hand. You placed it to lay on you knee as you hovered your left hand over his knuckles. The warm glow illuminated from your palm and Bucky’s breath hitched as he must have felt the sudden rush of energy it produced.  

The scars began to mend before his eyes and just as you felt the stinging prick on your own knuckles, you quickly pushed your right hand into the pocket of your jacket to hide the scars as they formed.  

“That’s incredible,” Bucky exhaled, withdrawing his hand as soon as you were finished. He held it out in front of him, examining the dried blood coated around perfectly intact skin. He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re incredible.”  

A rush of heat burned in your cheeks as you looked away, a smile breaking onto your lips. It was enough to distract you from the stinging in your hand tucked away in your pocket.  

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” you asked, biting on your lip nervously. “Think you could do with the company and I’d like to keep you from breaking more of these expensive punching bags.”

Bucky laughed at that, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He stood and offered you his hand, thinking out loud about which one of the movies on his list he wanted to try out next. You pulled your hand from your pocket and took his as he offered it to you; the knuckles already clean and healed.  

***

“You should see it, Fitz! It’s a goddamn stroke of genius.” You held up the ventilator no bigger than the pad of your thumb up to the light, admiring your work.  

“I’m sure Stark will be thrilled,” a thick Scottish accent crackled through the speaker on the com beside you. “Send me the schematics, will you?”

You pursed your lips, a smile etching through. “Think you can one-up me?”

“No never,” Fitz laughed. You could hear him tinkering in his own lab on the quinjet, the small clicks of metal and the buzz of a drill humming over the speaker. “Just want to see if I’m still head of our class or not.”

“Pretty sure we both know that title belongs to Simmons.”

There was a slight pause, then, a dreamy, “yeah, you’re right.”

A sudden knocking at the edge of the lab startled you as you spun around in your chair, nearly dropping the ventilator for Stark’s suit. Bucky stood in the doorway, clutching at his left shoulder as fingers dug into the muscle. He wore a sort of guilty look upon his face though he pushed out a smile and waved.  

“Hey, Fitz, I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?” you said over your shoulder to the speaker, waited a moment for his response and ended the call. You turned back to Bucky as a smile grew upon your face. “What can I do for you, Sergeant? I didn’t miss movie night, did I?”

“No, you’re in the clear,” Bucky chuckled, though it was tense. He stepped further into the lab, relaxing a little as he noticed no one else was around. It was pretty late for you to be working, but you were so close to finishing the ventilator, and well, time easily got away from you with Fitz on the other end of the phone.  

“Coming to keep me company then?” you teased. “I’m actually about done anyway, so we could set up the next movie on your—”

“No, I— um...” Bucky started, losing his nerve rather quickly. He exhaled a tense breath, eyes casting down to the floor. “I was, um, wondering if you could work on my shoulder?”

You raised an eyebrow. Even after that night in the gym, Bucky was still hesitant to your offers to heal his various injuries from the field. He’d give you that sweet smile of his, a soft pink in his cheeks, and tell you that he’d be fine on his own. You never doubted that, but it didn’t mean you couldn't spare him just a few hours of that pain.  

“The, um,” Bucky winced, gritting his teeth as he pushed his hand deeper against the tissue, “the nerve endings are acting up. Shuri said it’s to be, uh, expected given how Hydra butchered my arm all those years ago, but...”

“Come here.” You were already removing the files and paperwork from the table, gesturing for him to take a seat.  

His whole left arm was slack at his side as if he could barely tolerate to move it. Shallow breaths hitched in his lungs as he leaned against the table, settling against the hard, metal surface.

“Can you take this off?” you asked, nodding to his shirt. Bucky’s cheeks flushed and you cleared your throat nervously, playing with the ends of your hair. “It’ll be more effective if I can touch the area directly.”

He removed his right hand from the muscle at his shoulder and gripped at the hem of his shirt. Slowly, he started to pull it over his head, though you could tell from the harsh exhale in his breath that it was causing him considerable pain.  

“Here, let me help you.” You stepped forward and helped ease the fabric up his torso and gently guided it off his right arm, over his head, and eased it down his left. He seemed more at ease with the shirt removed, but a chill swept up his spine in the cool air of the lab.  

You kept your eyes on his, determined not to let your gaze fall to the hardened muscles on his chest and stomach.  

“I won’t be able to heal the scars,” you told him as you moved around to stand behind the table. “Just try to relax for me, okay? I’ll do what I can for the pain.”

Bucky nodded, his hands clenched into the lip of the table, enough to warp the surface. He could barely muster out a response.  

“My hands are a little cold, so...” you muttered out nervously, rubbing your palms together in an effort to warm them.  

Then, you set your hands against the mess of scar tissue surrounding his shoulder, starting at his shoulder blades as the glow illuminated bright enough to light up the corner of your lab. Bucky gasped, the first breath in a long time completely filling his lungs as he felt the relief within your touch. You could practically feel the tension melting off his shoulders.  

It didn’t take long before the pain made its way to your body. Starting out slow, in numbing aches, until it was so sharp, it felt like a dozen edges of sharp blades puncturing into your shoulder. You clenched your jaw, held your breath, thankful that Bucky couldn’t see your face when you bit down on the inside of your cheek and tears sprung into your eyes.  

“God, that... shit...” Bucky sighed, his grip releasing on the table. You could hear the smile in his voice, the relief, and it helped to push aside the pain as it manifested in your body.  

You moved your hand up his back, sliding along the scars where his skin met metal, taking as much of his pain as you could. Bucky was exceptionally strong, able to withstand far more than you could without passing out completely. You couldn’t take it all, especially if you wanted to keep him from knowing how your gift truly worked, but you took enough.  

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, preparing yourself as you moved around to face him. There was more on his chest, by his clavicle, you couldn’t reach from behind him. You'd had years of practice, learning how to keep the pain from displaying on your face. You could get through this for him.  

As you stepped in front of him, keeping a steady hold on his shoulder, you could feel his eyes watching you. The glow under your palms was bright enough to illuminate the lab, but it was a gentle light, as soft as the burn of a candle or the golden rays of a sunset. Bucky watched you with a kind of awe that made your stomach twist into knots.  

You guided your hand along the scar tissue on his chest, doing your best to ignore the goosebumps as they rose in your wake. Your heart was stammering, louder than the pain radiating in your shoulder, though it lessened the more you worked. The pain had nearly left him entirely as he started to take in more even breaths, relaxing his muscles as you felt them soften under your touch.  

You exhaled a tense breath through your nose, concentrating on gathering as much of the pain as you could, on mending the broken nerve endings as they misfired and frayed under the torn appendage. You barely noticed as Bucky crossed his right hand over his chest and laid his hand palm against your hands.  

“Thank you,” he whispered, his fingers curling around the undersides of your hands until he gently tugged them away. The glow faded until the lab was only lit by the soft light of the lamp at your desk and the reflection of the moon peering in through the window.  

You met his eye, the pain still prominent in your shoulder though you forcibly softened the clench in your jaw as he looked over you. His eyes flickered down to your lips for only a second, but it was enough. Your heart skipped.  

Bucky slowly released your hands, letting them fall gently against his thighs, as he leaned forward to cup the sides of your face. Fingers tangling into your hair, you stepped closer, pressed against the table between the parting of his legs.  

You wondered if he could feel how fast your heart was racing, or if he could hear it, because you were certain it was going to beat straight out of your chest. The fading pain in your shoulder you’d taken for him was nothing but a forgotten memory as he pressed his forehead to yours, just waiting.  

The moment his lips touched yours, you lost your breath; fireworks and butterflies, twists in your stomach and clamoring in your heart. You could feel his smile as it spread into his cheeks, your hands seeking more of him as you slid them up the sides of his bare chest. He was beautiful and perfect and so incredibly wonderful, you’d take hours of his pain, years even, if you could keep kissing him like this.  

“Hey, Y/n, I thought you were already done for the—oh, sorry!”

You jolted away from Bucky, restless and a little disheveled, Bucky’s cheeks flamed red, as you turned to find Banner standing awkwardly in the doorway. His hand was shielded over his eyes, his back quickly turned to you as papers littered the floor at his feet. You started to laugh, hand clamping over your swollen lips as you looked over at Bucky.  

“It’s no worry, Bruce,” you giggled, quickly skating over to the door to help him pick up the files. Bucky meanwhile shrugged his shirt back on, fixing the flyaways in his hair.  

“So sorry,” he mumbled again, clearly embarrassed by his intrusion as he glanced over at Bucky apologetically. He gathered the papers into his arms. “I’ll be going now and, um, I won’t come back, okay?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Bucky’s eyes blew wide in Banner’s quick escape.  

“Still want that company?” you offered with a smile, extending your hand to him. The pain was long gone from your shoulder as he shook himself from the flush in his cheeks and nodded. He took your hand and led you down the hall to the living room. There was another movie on the list to get through.  

***

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this happy. Your cheeks began to hurt from how often you were smiling, as if it were a permanent fixture on your features. You’d even caught yourself humming along to the radio as you dusted the surfaces in your lab the morning after Bucky had kissed you goodbye on the landing dock in front of at least a dozen agents.  

He’d been away on a mission for the last few days, but he called when he could. You’d spend whatever spare minutes he could get on the satellite phone with him, distracting him from whatever was going on in his end of the world with talk about your latest project with Stark or old stories from the academy with Fitz or what the next movie on the list was going to be.  

He wasn’t a man of many words, but you liked knowing he was on the other end of the line. You could picture his smile perfectly in your mind, the way he chewed on his lower lip, how his eyes fell downcast to the floor by your shoes, the flush of pink in his cheeks. It was enough.  

“So, things are really heating up with you and Barnes,” Natasha commented as she sipped the top of her steaming coffee before it could spill over the edge. You shrugged, though it was hard to contain your smile. Natasha grinned. “I think it’s good for him. You, too. Don’t know the last time I’ve seen him this happy. He seems more relaxed. Like maybe he’s not carrying the whole world on his shoulders anymore.”

“Helps when he’s not in excruciating pain on a daily basis,” you added, tapping at your left shoulder. He’d let you work on it a few times since that first night. It always took some convincing, but the pain was never as bad as it was that evening. You could take it. You’d do it a thousand times for him without question.  

Natasha nodded, a pleased look upon her face. She parted her lips to say more, but a sudden commotion at the end of the hall stole the words from her tongue. You set your coffee down on the counter, peering out around the tables to find agents jumping out of the way of an oncoming train.  

“Y/n!” Bucky shouted, voice breaking in the effort as he sprinted down the hall and slammed into an unsuspecting agent. Papers flew into the air as he sprinted towards your room. “Y/n!”

“Bucky?” you called stepping out into the hallway where he could see you.  

He skidded to an abrupt stop, his hair flying over his shoulder as he turned in your direction.  

“Y/n! Thank God.”  

It wasn't until Bucky stood in front of you that you realized he was covered in blood; soaking into his hair, caked under his finger nails, drenched into his suit, and stained to his skin. Your eyes widened, breath all but leaving your lungs, as your hands clutched against his jacket. He tried to pull you back towards the stairs, but you couldn’t budge, not with that much blood all over him.  

“What-- What happened? Are you hurt?” You started seeking out exposed skin an effort to draw away any pain you could, even if you couldn’t see any exposed wounds.  

Bucky's hand slid over yours, pulling it away. He softened, though you could still see the frantic rise and fall of his chest.  

“It’s not my blood. It’s Steve’s.”

Your stomach sank; relief mixed into an ugly shade of guilt and grief. Natasha was already sprinting down to the med bay, coffee mug cracked and spilled upon the tile floors. Her footsteps echoed through the hallway, the sudden clanging of the double doors startling you from your daze.  

“Please, I—I need you,” Bucky begged, his voice shaking. Tears were burning in his eyes. You’d never seen him this afraid; this shaken and helpless. “It’s not good, Y/n. He’s-- He’s--”

“Okay.” You pressed a hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb sweetly across his face and smeared the tears as they cleaned the dried blood away. You didn’t need to hear anymore. All you wanted was to take his pain, even if your gift couldn’t touch it as it nestled deep into his heart.  

By the time you reached the med bay, a storm of chaos had already barreled through. Lab equipment was knocked over on its side. Dozens of agents frantically running around, shouting orders at one other. Papers and schematics lined the floor with imprinted of boots damaging the print. But it was the trail of blood that drew your attention.  

Droplets trailing from the loading bay of the jet to down the med wing to the surgical room. Dark red and oozing. Taunting. Far too much for any ordinary man to have lost. You tried to stifle the gasp as it hitched in your breath the moment you saw him.  

Steve was strung up on a gurney, suit cut down the middle and flayed open, exposing his chest and the three bullet holes expelling pints of blood. The hands of several agents were pressing down onto him, trying to keep pressure on the wounds, deep red slipping out from between their fingers. The look on their faces said enough – he wasn’t going to make it.  

“Where’s Helen?” you gaped, staring at Steve.  

“Ten minutes out.” Tony stumbled into the room as he rounded the corner, holding a stat phone in his hand. “She’s in the chopper.”

“He can’t wait ten minutes.” Bucky gripped tight to you hand and you could feel the tension radiating in his muscles. You wanted to take it for him but he pulled his hand before you could, turning to face you. “You’re all we have. Y/n, please. I can’t lose him.”

Bucky had never once asked you to heal someone like this. He could barely muster the will to ask you to heal his own wounds, to ease the constant stream of pain in his shoulder, and the open wounds on his hand. But with Steve’s life in the balance, he didn’t have room to be hesitant anymore. He couldn’t risk his best friend’s life.

But he didn’t know it would risk yours in the process.  

You swallowed, glancing back nervously at Steve. “I’ve never healed anything this bad before, Buck. I don’t know if I can--” survive this.  

Could your body heal fast enough to take on his injuries? Could you do them one by one? Would he live long enough to even try? Would either of you?  

“Y/n, please. He’ll die without you,” Bucky begged, his voice wavering. Tears reflected in his eyes; gentle pale blue obstructed by a swarm of fear and guilt and desperation, a redness straining into the surrounding white until his cheeks were wet. The dried blood cleared in streaks as they traveled down to his jawline.  

You watched him as he bit down onto his lip, shielding his face from the others as he waited. The frantic beeping of the monitor strapped to Steve’s chest was growing frantic, irregular, and you knew there wasn’t much time left.  

The worst you’d ever attempted to heal before had been the stabbing of a stranger. You’d found her clutching stomach in an abandoned alleyway in Queens, contents of her purse spilled to the pavement, jewelry torn from her neck. You'd knelt down beside her and took her pain without so much as a second thought.  

As her wound began to close, your skin split open, blood soaked into your shirt, your vision grew dark and hazy, until it was nothing at all.  

The last thing you remembered of that night was the horror in the woman’s eye as she scrambled away from you and ran back to the safety of the open streets. You woke in a pool of your own blood hours later – longer than it had ever taken to heal before.  

A scar remained on your stomach from that night. The only one on your body. A warning.  

Test the limits of your gift again and learn why it’s called a sacrifice.

But as you looked back at Bucky, at a man who never dared to ask you for anything until it was unbearable, who wore his own scars and healed his own injuries in fear of exploiting your gift, who was impossibly gentle for the evil he was surrounded in for decades – you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. You didn’t want to.

Bucky must have noticed the change in your expression because his shoulders softened immediately, a heavy sigh sinking through his body. He pushed forward and pressed a quick kiss to your lips; short, chaste, and still—filled with a world of emotion, of gratitude, of relief. It gave you the courage to do what needed to be done.  

Tony began to shout for the room to clear the moment you approached the table. You stared down at Steve, whose skin had grown nearly translucent, the monitor above displaying his heart beat as it evened out to a nearly thin line. He was fading fast. You wouldn’t have much time.  

Everything around you became muted, distorted, as you channeled your focus; the huddled whispers of the agents hovering over Steve with their hands pressed to open wounds sounded as if they were miles away.  

Bucky stood at your side, watching anxiously though he tried his best to remain stoic and unaffected, though you knew he was splintering apart at the seams. Natasha and Sam were huddled in the far corner, talking quietly amongst themselves as they tried to put the pieces together as to what happened out in the field. Tony was shooing away stay agents with the threat of force, while Banner did his best to remotely disengage the power on Tony’s glove.  

None of it registered. Not beyond the flow of blood coating Steve’s chest and dripping onto the floor, your shoes stepping into the pool below. It was a miracle he was still alive at all. The serum was the only thing tying him to this Earth.  

You stretched out your hands, hovering over his chest and the agents quickly dispersed. You didn’t dare steal a glance in Bucky’s direction as the glow began to emit under your palms, afraid he might see the goodbye in your eyes or the apology for what he was about to witness. There wasn’t time.  

The pain was sudden. Sharp. Like you’d felt the bullets rip straight through you as if you stood on the battlefield in Steve’s place. You cried out at the impact of it, nearly thrown from your stance as you clutched into Steve’s body.  

Bucky jolted beside you, startled as you cried out again, desperate to choke down the screams before they passed your lips. He stared at you, wide eyed, as you clenched your jaw.  

“Y/n? Are you—”

Another scream tore through you and Bucky visibly flinched. You didn’t have the energy to hide the pain from him, not with three bullets tearing through you. You had to save Steve; put the full force of your power into healing his wounds before they consumed him whole. Damn the consequences. Damn the sacrifice of your gift.  

Your body was always meant to be the host of broken bones and bullet wounds and bruises. Made to be broken and mended. A host to others. A graveyard of injuries that did not belong to you.  

It was what your parents had told you from the time you were a child; that you were a gift to others, that you were a vessel to better the world. But it came at a price; one, it seemed, you’d soon enough pay.  

Your legs began to shake as a wave of darkness cast over your vision, tunneling, consuming the space around you. You could only vaguely make out Bucky’s voice calling your name, his tone laced confusion and concern, but you blocked it out. Daring to look in his direction now would only hinder your resolve and you needed to save Steve’s life.  

Concentrating your power, a scream ripped through your lungs as the glow illuminated the entire room, enough that Bucky was forced to shield his eyes.  

The wounds were taking hold on your body. One at your stomach. Another along your ribs. The third, just above your chest. Exit wounds opening on your back. You could feel the drip of blood as it slid down your skin; thick and unrelenting.  

You were growing light headed as the pain started to dissipate. But the wounds were still fresh on your body, still open and bleeding; the pain shouldn’t have faded so quickly.  

The steady beep of the monitor indicated that Steve was stabilizing, the flesh had nearly closed, and you barely registered Helen’s voice as she rushed into the room, ordering her team to take over.  

“Hey, hey, you did it, sweetheart. You did good,” Bucky exhaled. He had the most beautiful smile on his face; filled with a sense of pride an awe, stunning and handsome beyond belief, even with traces of concern still evident in his eyes.  

But you were stone. A statue. You couldn’t move without fear of collapsing completely.  

“He’s stable now, Y/n,” Bucky eased, trying to pull you gently away from the table. “Come here, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Bucky hand set against your stomach when you didn’t follow and he froze; the sticky wet residue of fresh blood on his hand. He stared down at his palm in horror as the blood began to seep through your shirt in three distinct spots, all perfectly aligning with the ones on Steve’s chest.  

Bucky darted forward, pushing up your shirt to find the wounds he’d seen healed on his best friend moments ago littered over your stomach. His mouth went dry, throat lined with sandpaper, rocks shoved down into his lungs. His hand trembled as it reached out and touched the bullet wound on your ribs. His breath hitched as he felt the warmth of blood and the tear of flesh in your skin.  

He couldn’t breathe.  

“Is Steve alive?” Your voice was barely a whisper and you wondered if Bucky could even hear you at all. His eyes were glossed over in fresh tears, lips parted in shock as he stared back at you. You could hardly keep your eyes open.

Before he could respond, your legs gave way and you stumbled back out of Bucky’s hold. Your vision was closing in, a dark cloud of black swarming around you as your foot caught on the edge of toppled lab equipment. You were in Bucky’s arms again before you made it to the floor.  

You didn’t hear him screaming for help, didn’t hear the shattering crack in his voice, or the crash of equipment behind you as Simmons raced into the room. You didn’t feel his hands as they desperately pressed onto the open wounds, or the heat of his breath as he begged you to ‘stay with me, sweetheart’. But you felt the warmth of his embrace.

It was comforting as the darkness pulled you under.  

***

A heaviness draped over you. Soothing. Pressing you into the soft cushion below. A repetitive chime rang above; even in tone, consistent. It drew you back from the kind embrace of shadows, calling you toward a flicker of light.  

Pressure squeezed at your hand. Cold and warm at once. Solid and soft.  

You listened for the chime; allowed it to guide you as the rest of your senses awakened.

The chatter of voices in the distant too muffled to distinguish. The distinct smell sterilizing alcohol that burned in your nose. The heat of a thick blanket tucked around your legs. The chill of a breeze streaming from the humming vent above. Scratchy bed sheets and laundry fresh clothes a few sizes too big for your frame.  

You groaned, trying to adjust to the influx of light as you opened your eyes. It was a room you recognized. White. Clean. Far too bright. You’d been within the walls dozens of times before, but never laid upon the bed. It was a strange view.  

Glancing down, you found yourself dressed in a dark grey t-shirt that didn’t belong to you. The logo was faded on the chest but it was still recognizable. Vintage. An eagle at the center of a circle, it’s wings remarkably similar to the symbol of the Howling Commandos. Around the edge: Strategic Scientific Reserve. You’d seen Bucky wear it until the hem frayed. Sure enough, as you reached for the bottom of the shirt, you found the split seams.  

A slight squeeze on your hand again drew your attention to your right. There, you found Bucky hunched over the side of the bed; both hands encasing yours, his forehead rested on the very edge of the mattress.  

A smile tugged at your lips until it started to ache. Unused muscles, must be. You wondered how long you’d been out this time. Must have been longer than a few hours. Bucky’s back would need your attention after the way he’s been sleeping.  

“Bucky,” you tried to call, but found your voice was nothing more than a breath of air. You winced, testing it again. “Bucky?”  

He only hummed in response. The sweet vibrations nestled against your arm. It took him a minute as he lifted his head, stretched out his upper back, matted hair fallen down into his face, before he caught your eye; glancing around the room, checking the door, the heart monitor above, like it had become routine, until he realized you were watching him.  

He froze, eyes wide. “Y/n?”

You nodded sleepily, pushing out a smile. “What’d I miss?”

Bucky didn’t laugh. His hands were still gripped tight to yours, squeezing at them as if he were checking to make sure you were real.  

Your smile began to fall the longer he stared at you. “How long was I out? Is Steve okay?”

Bucky cleared his throat, nodding, though it seemed strained. “Y-yeah, Steve’s fine. Doc said he’d make a full recovery thanks to you.”

“That’s good,” you replied, but Bucky couldn’t so much as force a smile. He couldn’t seem to look at you, his hands playing with the lines in your palms. It was then you started to notice the dark circles under his eyes, the wrinkles in days old clothing, the hallowed look upon his face. Your stomach sank. “How long was I out?”

Bucky’s paused for a moment, his movements stilling as he traced your lifeline. He sighed, resuming again. “Six days.”

“Oh.”

A silence swept over the room. You’d never been under that long before. Frankly, you were a little surprised you woke up at all given the extent of Steve’s injuries. Your fingers dipped under the hem of Bucky’s old t-shirt and grazed over the bullet wound on your ribs, feeling for the raised edges of a fresh scar. It didn’t heal, as you suspected the others hadn’t; laid to rest next to the knife wound from the woman in the alley. Injuries you were never meant to survive.  

“Were you ever going to tell us?”  

You looked up, startled by Bucky’s voice as it wavered. He brushed at his eyes; red and glossy.  

“Were you ever going to tell me?”  

“No,” you admitted and Bucky’s shoulders slumped. He sank back further into his chair and you could read the disappointment on his face. You gritted your teeth, preparing to deliver the same speech you’d been telling yourself for years. “My body could handle it, Buck. It was only a few minutes of pain to trade for weeks or months of your own. It kept you in the field and off the bench. The world needs you guys. It was worth it for me. I could handle it.”

“Until you couldn’t!” Bucky snapped, startling you as he tugged his hand from your grasp and began to pace around the room. His fingers raked into his hair, gripping at unwashed strands. “You almost died, Y/n! You almost died because I fucking begged you to use your powers to save Steve and I—Jesus, Y/n — if I had known what it does to you, I never would have asked you to do that!”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you,” you replied gently, wanting nothing more than to ease him. Bucky shook his head, unwilling to accept your answer. “Bucky, if you knew that healing a papercut hurt me, you wouldn’t let me do that either.”

He paused; arms folded over his chest though he wouldn’t look at you. “No, I wouldn’t.”

You softened, sitting up in the bed, though a dull pain rushed made it rather difficult, leaving you to clutch at your stomach. It ached as you moved, an unfamiliar feeling, and the tension quickly faded from Bucky’s shoulders when he heard you whine.

You pushed through the pain in your stomach, holding up a hand as Bucky started to step forward to help you. It would fade. It always does. You’d heal and move on, until the next injury came through. It was routine. It was your life.  

So, you told him as much.  

“I’d do it again.”

Bucky frowned. He looked like he wanted to just lay on the bed beside you, curl up against your chest and sleep. He was exhausted. And still—he couldn’t let it go.  

“You almost died—”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“A sacrifice?” Bucky’s face contorting in horror. “Are you insane? You're not a sacrifice, Y/n!”

You nodded, determined; the words of your parents, the village elders, ringing in your ears. “That what this gift is, Bucky! I can’t actually heal anyone other than myself, but I can transfer the injuries and the pain to my body. That I can heal. It’s what I was born for! It’s my purpose. I was made to be a sacrifice.”

“Not for me!” Bucky held his ground, voice firmer than you’d ever heard it. “Nothing is worth that to me! Do you understand that? I won’t trade your life for anyone’s, not even Steve’s, and I sure as hell don’t care how many bones I break or how bad the nerves in my shoulder misfire. I won’t put that on you again. The team won’t either.”

You clenched your jaw, heart starting race. No one had ever challenged you on this before. No one had ever questioned whether your gift should be used at all. No one ever seemed to care of the effect it had on your body, never thinking to look past the extraordinary abilities to the mutilation under the surface.  

No one until Bucky.  

You curled your hands into the thin sheets at your waist. “Bucky, don’t be ridiculous. I’m saving you all from weeks of unnecessary healing. I can handle the pain. It’s an easy trade for—”

Bucky’s fist met the wall. “You’re worth more than just a vessel for our pain, Y/n!”  

“What the hell is going on in here!?” Helen Cho rushed into the room, eyes darting between Bucky standing by the corner of the room, shaking out his hand, and you as you laid in the bed at the center, the heart monitor above pulsing far too quickly.  

Bucky seemed to notice the frantic beeping of the monitor and the anger quickly drained from his face.  

Helen glared at him as she stepped closer to you, beginning to check your vitals. “You should leave,” she shot over her shoulder. Your stomach twisted to knots as Bucky nodded defeatedly and walked to the door.  

“No, don’t--” you called, voice small, nervous. He paused in the frame, glancing back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Please, Bucky. Stay.”

Helen set a hand on your shoulder as if to ask if you were sure. You nodded.

“You may be able to heal yourself, but you’re still recovering,” Helen advised, tapping on the IV drip. “Take it easy, alright?”

Bucky remained stoic by the door after Helen left. He didn’t say anything for a while, his eyes focused on the tile floors at his feet, waiting until the heart monitor chimed in even, steady counts.  

“Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous,” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. It got him to look at you, at least. While he couldn’t muster a smile, it was clear he was drained of the anger that had quickly taken hold of his body; anger that was never once reserved for you, but for the voices in your head that deemed you unworthy of more than a body to be used by others.  

Bucky sank into the chair at your bedside.  

“When’s the last time you slept, Buck?”  

He stayed silent. It was enough of an answer. You didn’t dare ask the last time he left this room, not with the shiny reflection at his roots and the red strained in his eyes. Six days at your bedside, hunched over on a cold, unforgiving chair, clutching your hand. It ached deep into your bones.  

“I mean what I said,” Bucky mumbled, slowly brining himself to meet your eye. He reached out for your hand, letting the comforting chill of solid metal lay below as the warmth of flesh and muscle laid on top. He brought your fingertips to his lips and gently kissed at your knuckles.  

You sighed at the feeling. “Bucky, I...”

“You’re more important to us than your abilities,” he pressed, a sincerity behind his words and laced delicately into sweet shades of blue. “You do a lot of good to keep us safe with the tech you’ve been building and the adjustments to the suits. You’re incredible at what you do, Y/n. Your worth isn’t based on how many injuries you can heal or how much pain you can handle. We care about you. I care about you. Isn't that enough?”

You didn’t know.

You’d never known anyone to prioritize you over your gift. You parents had exploited it from the moment it was discovered your ability; showing you off, treating you as an idol to be worships and adorned. They put their child through broken bones and lacerations and asthma attacks. They sat back and watched as you healed strangers of arthritis and sprained ankles and migraines. Their child cried as they collected their winnings.  

Were you afraid it would happen again? Is that why you kept it from the team? From Bucky? You’d convinced yourself it was noble to silently suffer in their place, but you started to wonder if it amounted to little more than your parent's words whispered into your ear: your ability is a gift to the world, a sacrifice unto yourself.

“Would you ask any of us to suffer in your place?” Bucky questioned, drawing you from the mess inside your head with the gentle vibration in his voice.  

“I just want to help you...” you murmured, tears slipping past your cheeks.  

Bucky reached forward and brushed the tears as they fell, sliding his hand against your cheek and nestling against your hair. You leaned into the touch.

“So, we find a middle ground, okay?” Bucky offered, smiling enough to push into his cheeks, though his eyes were still heavy. “No trivial injuries. No life-threatening injuries. We take the stuff in-between case by case.”  

“Your shoulder,” you added, determined. Buck started to shake his head but you pressed harder. “Five minutes of pain to spare months of yours, Bucky. No lasting damage. Don’t argue with me on this one.”

It brought the smile back to Bucky’s eyes as he eventually nodded. You knew he had no real authority to decide what injuries you could and couldn’t heal, but you’d never had anyone who dared to put you first. You trusted him to do that; you trusted him more than yourself, anyway.

“We decide the rest together,” you told him. “I get the final say but... I need you to tell me if I’m pushing it too much, but I won’t be too cautious, either. No discriminating against Sam.”

“No promises,” Bucky chuckled, playing with the ends of your hair dreamily. “The other stuff I can deal with.”

“Okay,” you exhaled, relief sweeping through your body.  

“Okay.”

“Think I’ll be lucky if anyone on the team even lets me touch them for a few months after this ordeal, though, huh?” You laughed and though it ached in your stomach, it was considerably less than it was moments earlier. You didn’t mind the dull pain. It was familiar, almost a comfort. Steve was alive because of it.  

“Yeah, can’t say anyone was thrilled to find out how your powers actually worked,” Bucky chuckled. “But they’re happy you’re alright. I’m sure Steve will be, too. He was pissed when he woke up and learned what you did.”

You clenched your jaw. “Never good to be on Cap’s bad side...”

“No, it’s not,” Bucky agreed, wide smile pressed to the back of your hand, his lips touching over exposed skin. “He doesn’t like when anyone else pulls a self-sacrificial move. It’s kinda his thing. Diving into the Atlantic and all. We don’t really need two of you running around...”

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, swatting Bucky away. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, the pain in your stomach long forgotten, or maybe it had finally healed. You supposed it didn’t matter.  

They were scars that would never heal. Like the knife wound. Like mesh of hardened tissue around Bucky’s shoulder, stretching out onto his chest and back. Reminders of when you were too both close to the edge, to the brink of darkness. Reasons to push back towards the light.  

read the sequel here!

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[mypoisonedvine]

Side Effects | Bruce Banner x reader

summary: you never know what might be in the beakers at another chemist's station. you never know which of your colleagues might come along just in the knick of time to become the only antidote to your affliction.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut! (dub con due to sex pollen), semi-public sex (because technically someone could have walked by but unlikely), guilt/hesitance, kinda pining??, fingering, creampie,

a/n: yes, this is an accurate depiction of emergency shower protocol in a chemical lab and yes it is every lab technician's worst nightmare. thankfully the other stuff is not an accurate depiction of any known chemical, lol.

You wiped your forehead with a tired sigh, staring down at the calculations in front of you before using your pen to scribble over them before tearing out the page and throwing it away.

“You still do that by hand?” Bruce interjected, making you look up at where he was leaning in the doorway to the lab, watching you work.

“Oh, Dr. Banner!” you greeted with a smile, wondering if it was too ecstatic. You weren’t so good at the ‘playing it cool’ thing like he seemed to be.

“We have all those fancy screens and digital whiteboards, you know,” he explained as he stepped in and looked around at your work. “Not to mention the computer can do that stuff for you.”

“I know,” you scoffed, “but I always feel better doing it myself, on real paper. Not that I’m having any luck at the moment…”

"Here, I'll give them a quick look while you take a break," he offered, glancing at the numbers from over your shoulder. "You just get up and stretch your legs for a minute, doc."

You always thought it was sort of silly for him to call you that when he was a doctor as well, but you didn't complain.

Regardless, you were about to tell him that it was fine and you didn't need a break, but he was leaning in closer to take your seat and the proximity was so intimidating that you hopped up and went along with it anyways. He sat down and pondered your calculations while you circled the lab, taking a moment to appreciate how nice it felt to stand up and move around after sitting for so long.

"Your handwriting is…" Bruce trailed off, adjusting his glasses.

"Feminine and graceful?" you finished sarcastically.

"Sure," he chuckled.

"Yeah, just like me—" you started to quip, but mid-sentence you (ironically) stumbled and tripped, using a nearby table to catch yourself— but you accidentally grabbed onto a beaker, which tipped over and smashed onto the ground. The liquid inside spilled onto the floor just before you did, and you winced as you fell into the puddle of the unknown substance.

“Shit!” you hissed as you scrambled to get up, looking down at your clothes and seeing they were covered in the fluid, which was beginning to evaporate, or steam, or something. Remembering lab safety protocols, you instantly began to strip, closing your eyes and wishing Bruce hadn’t come in just before this. As you shirked your lab coat, shirt, and skirt, you walked to the emergency shower, pulling the lever and gasping when the chilly stream of water poured down on you. Bruce looked at you with wide eyes before being kind enough to turn around as you shivered and removed your bra and underwear, now completely naked and weakly scrubbing yourself with your hands in hopes that none of the chemical had gotten onto your skin.

“What is it?” he asked nervously, turning his head back enough that you could hear him over the flow of water, but hopefully not so much that he could see anything important.

“I don’t know,” you answered, “it’s not mine. It’s something Dr. Sutherland was working on…”

“Is it… are you in pain at all?” he asked, even more concerned, and you tried to decide if you could feel any effects.

“N-no…” you answered hesitantly. You felt hot, and strange, and you were covered in rolling chills, but you figured that was just the situation you were in— naked in a tepid shower in front of your coworker who just so happened to be incredibly sexy.

“I should call poison control,” Bruce offered as he reached for his cell phone.

“No, I’m fine,” you denied as the water flow slowed down and you wiped your face, confident that you looked like a complete mess— but at least you saved yourself from whatever was in that beaker, right?

“Here,” Bruce offered an emergency blanket to you after pulling it off a nearby shelf, and it was not at all absorbent but it helped with the draft as you stepped away from the shower which was still leaking the last few drops of water onto the drain on the floor.

“Thank you,” you nodded nervously, shivering and dripping and looking back at him with no idea what to say at all.

“Do you feel alright? I should check you for burns,” he suggested. “I— I won’t look…”

“Please,” you sighed, pulling the blanket a bit to expose your chest and stomach. He brushed his hand over the skin there, making you instantly whine as heat burned just under your skin, clouding your mind and making you crave even more.

"Did that hurt?" he asked anxiously, pulling away, but you stepped closer.

"No it's… it's good, it's so good."

He furrowed his brow as he looked down at you, putting the back of his hand to your forehead. "You're burning up, doc, you must be running a fever of 105."

"Touch me more, please," you whimpered. It was like you were in a dream, everything foggy and distant, and the only time that anything made sense was when he touched you. Or maybe it was that his touch sent you further into delirium; you couldn't be sure.

He gasped when he looked at your quivering legs only to find slick arousal running down the inside of them, threatening to drip onto the floor.

"Oh," he sighed.

"Please," you begged mindlessly, "Dr. Banner, I n-need you…"

"No, you need medical attention."

You whined and grabbed as his shirt, humming at the feeling of his warm skin just beneath. If the forearms that he often left exposed in rolled-up sleeves were anything to go buy, his chest was probably toned and tanned, lightly dusted with dark hair… you were all but drooling at the thought. "Please, Bruce… just help me," you pleaded, looking up into his eyes which were swirling with conflict.

"I can't," he shook his head. "I'd be taking advantage."

He must have seen the heartbreak of rejection make you wince, because he tried to soothe you with his hands resting on your arms— even just that contact making you suppress a moan.

"I've wanted this for so long," he explained, "and you— you haven't. You're unwell, you need to go to a hospital."

You sobbed a little at the idea of being taken away from him and examined by strangers, when you knew the solution was right in front of you. "No, no Bruce they'll touch me! Nobody can touch me but you, I only want you."

He scoffed, but you heard the weakness in it and you needed him to give in soon before you melted from your own hear. "You're deranged— delirious," he reiterated.

"It'll feel so good, please Bruce, I'll be so good for you— anything you want, I'll do it, I'm yours."

"Stop talking like that," he winced. "I can't… I can't."

"I need to feel you inside me, Dr. Banner, I need it more than anything. It's just gonna get worse… please, help me. I want you. I trust you."

"You'll hate me in the morning," he asserted. "God, this is so wrong…"

But much to your relief, he reached down and hesitantly slid his thick middle finger through your folds, gasping gently as he felt how wet you were. "I should t-take you somewhere private."

"No, need you now— right here," you pleaded, trying to chase his touch with your hips.

"But if someone came by—" he began to fret, glancing at the door; but his attention was turned back to you by your hands weaving into his hair.

"Nobody else stays this late, god, Bruce please I just need you so bad—"

He cut you off with a sudden kiss, which was enough on its own to make warmth bloom in your gut, but then he started to move his finger again and you shuddered with a moan that was muffled by his lips.

"Maybe I can make you come like this," he offered as he pulled back just enough to whisper to you, "would that help you? It'll take the edge off."

You bucked and moaned against his fingers, just those subtle touches driving you wild. "N-no, it has to be inside! You have to fuck me, I need your cock."

He breathed through his teeth, like he was almost considering it, but then looked away. "I can't," he shook his head.

"Can't or won't?"

He frowned. "Won't. I'll get you off with my fingers, otherwise it would be… too selfish."

"Bruce, I'm literally begging you for it," you sighed, the irritated tone that you'd intended lost in the moans he elicited by rubbing your swollen clit.

"I know," he winced, "I know and it's killing me that I can't give you what you're asking for… I swear if it wasn't like this…" he trailed off as you looked up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

"What would it be like?" you asked lowly. "Tell me how you would fuck me."

For all his shyness before, there was a brief switch in his demeanor as he leaned in, breath hot against your neck as he whispered, two fingers sliding into your channel at the exact moment that he spoke.

"So fucking hard."

You whimpered, knees wobbling a bit as you tried to ride his fingers— but he wasn't pushing back, wasn't giving you enough force to balance against when you sought more friction. "P-please, Bruce— I know you want to, please, please baby I need it so bad…"

"I know," he breathed, free hand cradling your face as his thumb stroked your cheek, and it was so needlessly compassionate, so effortlessly soothing that your heart had no choice but to clench at his tenderness. Other parts of you clenched as well, in much more literal ways, but the heart thing was more important.

You gingerly reached forward and palmed his cock through his pants, moaning when you felt how hard it was. "You're desperate, too," you informed him with a little smile. "It hurts, doesn't it? It aches."

"Yes," he answered tensely.

"I'm hurting too. I'm aching, for you. Please, Bruce, help me."

As he pulled back and examined your face, he chewed his lip and contemplated. He couldn't stand to see you in pain, but he couldn't comprehend what he had to do to help you. Well, okay, that's not totally accurate because he had actually "comprehended" the idea of making love to you plenty of times. But that was just a fantasy, a very misguided one that he only indulged in in his weakest moments. And in those fantasies, shockingly enough, you were always completed lucid and of sound mind and body. He sadly could not say that for you at the moment, and of course he couldn't because of course when you were sober and healthy, you didn't see him that way.

Bruce prided himself on his logic, his integrity, his patience. Suddenly, those qualities were falling prey to a much deeper, carnal instinct that saw this not as a predicament but as an opportunity. Logic states, after all, that it would be wasteful to have everything he wanted thrown into his lap and to let it go to waste.

"Fuck," he groaned as he kissed you again, fucking you faster with his fingers. You moaned and went for his belt, barely managing to open it with your hands shaking so much; part of you had considered just trying to rip the leather off of him, and with the force of your need it seemed almost plausible.

Finally getting his trousers opened just enough to reach inside, you purred as you reached in and navigated past his boxers to wrap your fingers around his hard cock. It was so thick and smooth and hot and you almost wanted to drop to your knees and take it in your throat right then, but you had better plans.

He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, grinning against you at the way you whined, before wrapping his arms around you and quickly instructing you to jump.

It was infuriating, how easily he caught you when you wrapped your body around him. Infuriating and so painfully sexy.

He never broke the kiss as he walked the two of you to your lab table, sliding the papers aside and onto the floor to set you on it. You started on his aggravatingly-small shirt buttons while he pushed his trousers and boxers down the rest of the way, and god his cock was right there between your legs, so close but very much too far away for your liking.

You didn't have the time or energy to get his shirt off, settling for just running your hands over the exposed skin instead. He grinned and watched the path your hands made, hissing slightly when they wrapped around his shaft— for a second you swore you could feel it throb.

"Don't make me wait anymore," you whispered your plea, sighing a little when he nodded.

"Okay baby," he agreed.

"Been waiting so long," you whined.

"Me too," he nodded, and with a little push, his cock slid all the way into you and filles you to the brim. Even when you were completely drenched, the girth of him was so wide that it stung, that it tore you open, but you loved it. Your head fell back and just from him being inside you, you came. The substance had you so needy and sensitive that that was all it took. It wasn't enough yet, of course. You knew you needed more. But God, he felt so good you could hardly breathe.

"Baby," you heard Bruce gasp, his fingers digging into your hips. Your chest twisted when he laughed a little, breathless and just teetering on the line between complimentary and mocking. "Did you just come?"

You considered playing dumb, but nodded instead.

His smile was apparent when he pressed his lips just below your ear to suck on the delicate skin there, his teeth trailing up to nibble your earlobe lightly. You hoped he would leave a mark, you hoped he would leave lots of marks that you could remember this by for weeks to come.

"Couldn't help yourself, huh?" he asked breathlessly, whispering so quietly you could barely hear it over the beating of your own pulse which echoed in your ears.

"You feel so good," you justified, "so fucking good, Bruce."

"You too," he sighed as he finally pulled back and slid into you again, the friction making your back arch instantly. "Even better than I imagined."

You smiled and wrapped your legs around his hips, forcing him to push deeper with each thrust. When he pushed you to your limits it felt like you might just fall apart right there, but it was so worth it.

As if that wasn't enough, he reached down and circled a thumb over your overstimulated clit, grinning down at you at the sight of you writhing and bucking wildly in his arms.

"Fuck!" you cried as you tightened your hands on his shoulders into fists hard enough to risk tearing through his shirt.

"Too much?"

"More," you pleaded instead, crying out when he gave you exactly what you wanted with fast, rough thrusts into your drenched walls. "Yes," you sobbed, "yes, fuck— m'gonna come, Bruce, gonna come again."

"Go ahead," he encouraged, voice so much rougher than normal, "show me how good it feels, baby."

It felt like his words were the thin that pushed you over the edge, as if your body somehow both understood and obeyed his command. You could feel a renewed wave of slick leak out from you, enough that you could hear the wetness in each slap of his hips against yours. His name was somewhere in the litany of curses and praises that spilled from your lips, your mind too clouded with hazy pleasure to keep track of what you were actually saying.

"Just like that," he groaned, "doing so good, fuck, say my name just like that every time I make you come."

An easy enough stricture to follow, especially when it seemed like he was all you could think about. He looked so different with his clothes half-shorn and his eyes dark with lust. He hadn't taken his glasses or labcoat off and you weren't sure which of those you were happier about.

His lips and hands were all over you; you couldn't even keep track of everywhere he was touching you, that's how overwhelming it was. "God, you're so fucking perfect," he groaned against your skin, finding a hardened nipple as his tongue explored you and wrapping his lips around it. "You are so goddamn sexy, you know that? I love seeing you with your legs spread for me like a needy little whore. I love hearing you moan and knowing I'm the one making you feel this good."

He took a moment to look at you and soak in your shocked reaction to his words before leaning in to continue.

"I love feeling you come for me," he purred in your ear.

"Then you're gonna really like what I'm about to do," you shivered.

"Yeah? You can gimme another one already?" he smiled. "Such a good girl…"

You really couldn't help it, it felt like everything he did only enhanced your pleasure— his words, his hands all over you, not to even mention his cock inside you. As much as the hedonistic corner of your brain was happy to let this go on forever, the ramifications of constant orgasms were finally catching up with you as you wondered how much more of this you could take.

"F-fuck, are you close?" you asked weakly. "Want you to come for me, Bruce, please."

"I-I'll pull out," he suggested, although the way he looked down at his length sinking into you and pulling back out, covered in your abundant arousal, didn't exactly indicate that he was willing and able to actually make good on his offer.

"No!" you yelped, pulling him closer by his unbuttoned shirt. "It needs to be inside, Bruce, please come inside me."

"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth.

"Please, Bruce, please, promise you'll come inside."

"I will," he sighed, "fuck, I will baby, I promise I'm gonna fill you up so good, you're gonna have my come so fucking deep inside you…"

"Yes!" you moaned, completely unabashed as the unknown substance had apparently absolved you of any shame whatsoever. "Yes, I want it, Bruce, I want your come."

The moment you felt his seed start to paint your walls, you felt relief begin to wash over you. Your mind and body relaxed, the overwhelming heat under your skin subsiding into a comforting warmth, the desperation that had burned in your gut satiated at last.

And that left you staring up at him in realization of what you had done, just as he looked back at you with the same.

"God, I'm so sorry—" he shuddered, moving to pull away. Instinctively your legs wrapped around his hips again, holding him close.

"N-no, wait," you groaned, "it's okay. Don't go."

"You don't hate me," he said, the exhaustion in his tone making it hard to tell if it was a question or a statement.

"Never," you sighed with a weak smile, sitting up to clutch his face and kiss him again. "God, Bruce, now I'm just wondering what took us so long."

"Our lab safety is just too good, clearly," he smiled as he kissed you again, pulling back a little too soon to examine your face where he held it in his hands. "Are you okay? You should still probably go to a doctor…"

"I'm already with a doctor," you smirked, "and his treatment was very effective."

"Yeah, that was…" he trailed off, wide eyes as if he were reminiscing about what had only just transpired.

"Sorry for being so… desperate," you cringed. "I didn't mean to… um… impose…"

He just laughed and kissed your forehead, making you feel your cheeks warm a bit; ironic that with everything that had just happened, this was what made you blush. "A beautiful, amazing woman that I've been dreaming about for months begs me to take her in the laboratory… really inconvenient."

"I mean, cleaning up these papers and the broken glass is gonna be pretty tedious, along with the incident report," you frowned.

"I'll help you with it," he offered.

"Tomorrow," you decided. "Right now, I'm taking you to my place."

"Is that so?" he asked with a bemused smirk.

"Yep. We both are in serious need of a shower, and then I wanna go again," you grinned wickedly.

"I thought you said you weren't feeling the effects of the chemical anymore," he recalled, voice tinted with concern.

"I'm not," you reassured, "I'm just feeling the effects of you."

[zeroweeenies]

megumi x reader having sex in the bathtub? please ~~

“Bath Time”

Desc: you have a much needed shower with megumi.

Character(s): Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6K

WARNINGS: shower sex, spitting, degradation, slight somno, sir kink, slapping, aged up megumi, 18+ minors dni

You shoved your key in the door, twisting the lock and entering your shared apartment with your boyfriend. You toed your way out of your shoes, letting out a fatigued sigh as you removed your jacket from your body and carelessly throwing it on the couch that was positioned in the middle of the living room.

You were dog tired; life as a jujutsu sorcerer was demanding, having to work late nights and sometimes not being able to come home because of the countless lives you had sworn to protect really put a damper on your relationship.

Megumi’s work was the same as yours, although he too was a shaman your schedules often ended up not coinciding with one another, him getting home earlier than you and already asleep in bed by the time you got there.

Your busy schedules also drove a truck through your sex life since you two hadn’t fucked in almost two weeks. Whenever you came home Megumi was always asleep and you never dared to wake him because your jobs required that you needed the utmost rest, so waking him up for something as trivial as sex seemed silly.

But something in you was different tonight. A mission dealing with a special grade curse left you super taxed, and ultimately left you with soreness in the side of your neck.

And with all of the pent up sexual frustration building in you from the passing weeks, you were extra needy for Megumi. You just wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend, for him to take all your worries away by making it all better with his cock.

Walking down the corridor of your apartment and to the right, you stepped into your bedroom to see Megumi resting peacefully. The luminescence of the moon reflecting off his toned chest, the blanket pulled down over his body enough to where you could see his sweatpants draping over his hips.

The sight made you whine, only proving how much you needed him as you sauntered over to where Megumi lays, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest while he snores lightly.

‘He must be tired too’ you think, ‘this will be good for both of us.’

You crawl up the expanse of the bed on all fours like a panther closing in on its prey, your body directly above his. You lean down to press a kiss to his plump lips, sucking the bottom one into your mouth while running your hand down his torso, moaning into his mouth when you felt the very prominent bulge through his pants.

He was so fucking hard, you could almost feel it throbbing under your touch. You palmed him even more, causing him to stir in his sleep. You suck hickies into his naked chest, practically jerking him through the material separating you two.

“Wake up, baby” you coo into his jaw, placing kisses there too. Megumi groans, finally stirring awake.

“_____, what are you doing?” he questions you, his words coming out groggily as he begins to realize what you’re doing. Your hand slips under the layer of clothing, now touching his aching cock through his boxers.

“Shhh, let this happen” you giggle against his neck, resulting in Megumi shoving you off him and making you fall back on your knees.

“Go to bed, ____. I have to be up in a few hours and you need to rest.” he replied coldly, turning onto his side to face away from you.

What the fuck? You couldn’t help but wonder why he was acting like this. You were right there, throwing yourself at him and he won’t even look at you. Of course he doesn’t want to do it, why did you think tonight would be any different? You scoff, pulling yourself away from him.

“Tch, whatever. You probably can’t even get it up anyway.” you mock as you get off the bed, making your way into your shared bathroom. You peeled off your clothes and threw them into the hamper before turning on the water and making sure the temperature was just right before stepping in and sliding the shower door closed.

You lathered your cloth, getting it nice and soapy before scrubbing your body and most intimate areas and rinsing off after you were all clean.

You couldn’t get rid of the aching feeling pooling in your cunt, still irritated with the way your boyfriend was acting. You understand that he was stressed, but you were too. You would’ve at least expected him to return your affections, especially since he was the one who always initiated sex first. But there you were, practically having to beg your own boyfriend to fuck you.

You might as well get this over quick. Sitting down on the large bench that was placed in the shower, you laid back as you spread your legs wide. One hand tugged at your nipple while the other instinctually went to your clit, rubbing gently in circular motions.

Your lips parted as you tugged on the bud even harder, your fingers trailing down your slit to gather your arousal on them. You pushed your fingers inside your leaking cunt, immediately trying to imitate the way Megumi did it.

Your fingers didn’t feel the same. Megumi’s were longer, thicker. Always fucking that little spot inside you that made you weak and squirt all over him. You choked on a sob, almost crying from not being able to reach as deep as he could, almost giving up before you felt yourself getting close as your oncoming orgasm neared.

Broken fragments of his name left your mouth. “‘Gumi, Megumi,” you cried out, fingers pumping in and out of yourself even faster. You didn’t even realize how loud you were being until you heard Megumi’s voice behind you.

“Can’t get it up, huh?” You were so diverted by your sobs and moans you hadn’t even realized Megumi was standing right in front of you, an animalistic look in his eyes.

You shot up immediately and closed your legs shamefully, embarrassed that you just got caught touching yourself.

“Get out! You’re such a pervert!” you shot up, pounding your fists on his chest as an attempt to push him out of the shower.

Your next sentence was cut off by Megumi grabbing you up by your neck and aggressively pushing you up against the shower wall with his knee against your cunt, forcing a whimper from you.

“I’m the pervert? Look at you, touching yourself like a slut trying to get off.” His degrading words only made your eyelashes flutter and your pussy clench around nothing as his fingers squeezed more tightly around your throat.

“Tell me, did you think of me when you touched yourself? Did you think of me fucking this pretty little pussy?” his joint causing even more friction against your naked cunt, making you force a whine to the back of your throat.

“Fuck y—” you choke out before you earn a smack to the side of your face, making you even wetter somehow. Being hit during sex was so wrong, but it felt so right, especially if it was Megumi doing it to you.

“You’re gonna learn when to keep your whore mouth shut” he spat, your lips squished in a perfect eight from how hard he was squeezing your face.

“Get on your fucking knees”

he orders you with you reluctantly dropping to your knees in front of him, your actions followed by a bashful

“Yes sir”

Megumi doesn’t hesitate instantly tugging his sweatpants and boxers to his ankles and forcing his cock into your mouth. The unexpected intrusion nearly knocks you backwards, his pelvis flush with your mouth from stuffing it so full.

You gag when you feel his tip graze the back of your throat and hit your uvula, earning a low groan from him feeling your throat constrict around his length.

“You know how to shut up when your mouth is full of cock, don’t you?”

he fucks your mouth with deep thrusts, not allowing you to take a breath. Your breathing is limited and you feel like you’re going to pass out from the way Megumi’s using your throat, but the way your slick is dripping down your thighs and onto the shower floor only confirms that you like being treated like a fuck doll, a toy whose only purpose is to please.

“Don’t you?” he pulls you off his cock to take in your fucked out appearance, drool running from the sides of your mouth and tears flowing down your face as you give him a nod, the feeling of him seeing you like this is all too humiliating.

Megumi revels in it. He loves making you so embarrassed to the point where you beg for him to fuck you and let him do anything he pleases to you because he wants to make you a desperate slut for him.

“Ah ah, use your words baby” he speaks teasingly, caressing your jaw and stroking your puffy lips.

“Yes sir” you whimper out.

He chuckles, pleased with your answer before forcing your jaw down with his thumb to spit in your mouth, spreading it around on your tongue with two of his thick digits, a thin string connecting his saliva and yours when he pulls them out.

“You know what to do,” he insinuates, prompting you to swallow the warm liquid down your throat.

“Thank you sir” you look up at him through teary lashes, your eyes bloodshot red from being facefucked. He hums at your submissiveness, placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“You’re all fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet. Pathetic bitch.” his words cause you to mewl, leaving you to rut your naked cunt against nothing.

“All fours” he instructs to the bench behind you, making you scramble to your feet and position yourself the exact way Megumi told you.

You press your chest to the bench as much as you can, pushing you pussy out in hopes for Megumi to do something to relieve the aching feeling inside you.

Megumi drops to his knees behind you, his hands wandering up the backs of your thighs, spreading your ass before giving it a hard slap. He spreads your puffy pussy so he can see inside, your wetness glistening and running down your slit. Megumi’s cock grows harder at the sight.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me so far. I think you deserve a reward, hm?” he utters before delving between your slick lips, tongue swirling up and down your slit before teasing your sensitive spot. He suckles your clit into his mouth, his actions almost mimicking a vacuum.

You gasp from the feeling of your clit being sucked on, pressing your hips back to get him to do it even more. Megumi moans into your pussy, flicking his tongue up and down rapidly eliciting a screech from you.

You feel yourself spurring close, ready to release at any moment as Megumi’s tongue seems to lick at your sensitive bud inconceivably faster. You let out a choked moan, cumming hard as he continues to lick at your overstimulated clit, pulling your hips back when you attempt to escape.

Megumi pulls his face out of your leaking cunt, his face slick with your juices as he lines himself up with your entrance, teasing your folds with the tip of his cock. He takes his time teasing you, wanting you to beg for him to fuck you like he always does.

“Sir please, need you so bad”

“If you’re loud enough, maybe I’ll let you cum.” That’s all it takes for him to push himself inside you, stretching you out all at once. It burns, after not having fucked him for weeks on top of his cock just being that fucking big, you hiss from finally feeling him inside you.

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I missed fucking this little pussy,” Megumi moans when he gets his hips flush against your ass, pressing your head into the bench as he begins to push himself in and out of your tight cunt at a fast pace.

He’s fucking you so hard and rough, you feel yourself being fucked into the wall in front of you, your head repeatedly knocking against it as you let out a string of moans.

Megumi rolls you over onto your back, immediately sinking himself back inside you and beginning to piston his hips. Nothing else can be heard besides the shower that’s still running and the loud sloshes of your cunt, the steam from the water making the enclosed space foggy.

“Feels too good, can’t take it” you cry out, trying to push Megumi away only for him to pin your arms over your head, pounding into you even harder.

“Feels good baby? I’ll make you feel even better,” grabbing the shower head, he adjusts the pressure to the highest setting before placing it directly over your clit, still too sensitive from cumming earlier.

The pressure from the stream of water on your clit elicits a scream from you, and you feel the coil in you about to snap in you yet again. You had never thought of using the shower head for anything other than cleaning yourself, but the way Megumi was using it on you now unlocked a new level of pleasure you couldn’t even describe.

“I-I can’t-- I can’t,” you sobbed, tears trickling down your face from the overwhelmingness of it all

“You asked for this princess, you have to take it.” he sticks his fingers in your mouth all the way down to the second knuckle, pressing down harshly on your tongue continuing fuck into you, the tip of his fat dick bruising your cervix.

God, he was being so rough. And you loved every second of it. After not being able to have him inside you for weeks, anything he gave you was bound to make you cum on the spot.

Megumi revels at your sweet moans resonating in the air, echoing within the shower walls only making him go harder.

“‘M cumming,” your face contorts in pleasure, a broken sob leaving your mouth with your lips falling open as you feel your second orgasm washing over you, your walls convulsing around his cock.

Megumi follows right after you, fucking you through your high before he lets the shower head slip from his hand, grunts and a string of “fucks” leaving his mouth as he pulls out and releases himself on you, strings of white coating your stomach and chest.

His hand slows as he comes down from his high, picking up the shower head to rinse your stomach and tits off where he came. Megumi shuts the water off before stepping out of the shower, fog spilling out of the enclosed space.

You hear water running in the distance of the huge bathroom before he comes back, scooping your limp body up and carrying you to the tub. You pant in his arms, still not fully recovered from the pleasure he just gave you. Megumi sets you in the tub that’s filled with bubbles, causing you to whine and fuss when you see him disappear for a split second.

Megumi settles into the tub behind you, shushing you and pulling your body to his with your back against his hard chest.

“I’m right here baby, you can relax” he plants sweet kisses on your neck and shoulder as you ease into his touch, sighing in contentment.

“But you have to be up in the morning,” you protest.

His hands massage your waist, making you shudder when he kisses the shell of your ear.

“You’ve been working so hard, let me take care of you.”

His sweet words make you melt in his arms. Perhaps you’d indulge him for now.

[envihellbender]

12 + Gotham

"Just because I like torturing you, doesn't mean I like spending time with you."

Pairing: Victor Zsasz/Oswald Cobblepot with Ed Nygma as a Maybe in the future

Contains: drugged, kidnapping implied, run up to torture, threats

Edward Nygma felt it in his head first, he had yet to open his eyes and he felt a cloudy, heavy feeling in his temples. It was similar to being hungover, but significantly more severe. He tried to remember what he had done the night before, he didn’t really drink… had he been drugged? No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get his brain to open up, all it did was make the pain worse. He attempted to move, his legs and shoulders were cramping from being in the same position for too long but all that happened was cold aluminium kept his wrists and ankles in the same place. He eventually opened his eyes, over his head he saw two black boots swinging back and forth. His glasses had been removed, so they just seemed blurry. Everything did. It was the sudden speech that alerted Edward to where he was. He knew that voice instantly.

“He’s finally awake, Boss,” Victor Zsasz called out, Edward struggled in an attempt to look in any direction over than at the underside of Zsasz’s blurry feet. He saw a black blur jump from what must have been a platform above him to his side, his landing sounding far too graceful. Edward immediately screwed his eyes shut and turned as far away from him as he could.

“Don’t be rude, Edward,” Oswald smirked as his footsteps and accompanying cane clattered down the metal stairs. “Victor here has done so much to make you nice and comfortable.”

“Oh yeah, so much. I wanted to cut your limbs off rather than just restrain you,” Zsasz said, Edward couldn’t see the mocking expression, only hear it in his voice. He insisted on keeping his eyes screwed shut even when he felt the cool blade against his cheek. He heard Oswald’s footsteps stop, his muscles tensed, he could only guess as to where they both were. That unnerved him.

“Victor. Make him look at me,” Oswald said in irritation, Edward tried to repress the slight smile that came to his lips at that.

“Sure thing, Boss,” Zsasz shrugged. Two fingers pressed down on Edward’s eye making him squirm and scream out, especially as the point of the blade gently met his eyelid. Before he could react further, Oswald interrupted them.

“Not like that!” Oswald snapped, banging his cane against the ground.

“You should’ve been clearer then.” Zsasz pulled the knife back and instead pressed the point into Edward’s ear. “Open up or I’ll slam it into your ear drums, frog boy.” Before Edward could consider the threat properly his eyes snapped open. He could see Zsasz’s pale, blurred face, and an unclear shape that must have been Oswald.

“There’s those handsome eyes,” he purred as he approached. One of his gloved hands cupped Edward’s face, as Edward attempted to bite his thumb. Oswald cackled before slapping Edward’s face twice. Zsasz’s eyes were cold and his face was unreadable. Edward couldn’t tell if he was angry, jealous, or simply bored. “Well, Victor, he’s all yours,” Oswald purred. He pecked Zsasz on the cheek and squeezed his shoulder before returning up the stairs. “Just don’t kill him. And I want him more or less in one piece,” Oswald called over his shoulder as Zsasz licked his lips and left Edward’s side to rummage through his tools.

“Let me think, what to do first,” Zsasz said aloud. “This is gonna be so fun.”

“Zsasz,” Edward gasped, irritated that his unconscious response was to struggle helplessly. “You do know I will get out of this, yes?”

“If you say so, Houdini,” Zsasz replied without hesitation. Edward heard the sound of a drill and his spine tensed. He hoped Zsasz was tormenting him but with him you never knew.

“If you just let me go, I won’t touch you. I’ll just go for Oswald-“

“Yeah, yeah, if you say so.”

“Zsasz I’m serious-“

“Maybe I should just sedate you again. You’re so boring,” Zsasz groaned, slamming a metal drawer shut carelessly. Edward struggled again attempting to look around, he knew without his glasses he wouldn’t be able to make much out but even seeing everything blurred would have been preferable to not seeing anything at all. With his touch and sight taken away all he could do is smell a thick antibacterial spray and hear Zsasz pacing about the room, rummaging through drawers and whistling.

“I- I’m not boring,” Edward eventually said in irritation. His persona as the Riddler was anything but mundane, he thought. It was far more creative than Zsasz’s work. “I’m- the media is- you’ve seen my murders, Zsasz.”

“You’re so boring,” Zsasz said, a deranged giggle punctuating his sentence. “This is Gotham, Nygma. Killing doesn’t make you interesting. Honestly, I don’t get what Os sees in you.”

“I could say the same thing.” Edward felt embarrassed and berated himself for not having a much more clever and scathing comeback.

“See? Stupid. Boring.” Zsasz fell quiet again, but then he groaned in irritation. It seemed even Edward’s silence annoyed him. “You’re fun to torture, I want to hear you scream. But hearing you ramble on makes me want to stab a scalpel into my eardrum. Wait. No. Cut your tongue out, that’s a better idea.”

“You wouldn’t-“ Edward began, his voice strained.

“Keep yapping and you’ll find out,” Zsasz interrupted finally. He approached Edward with a drill and a long scalpel, and Edward bit into his tongue so as not to show his fear.

[formidxble]

summary: changbin shouldn’t be on top of you, but here he was. 

pairing: seo changbin x female reader word count: 2.8k 

genre: smut and angst, exes with benefits, non!idol au 

smut warnings: nothing really, it’s reunion sex, nothing too rough.  tagged <3: @moonlit-lixie @lilixeu @meow-minho​ a/n: this is my first time writing smut !! shoutout to the lovely @moonlit-lixie for reading some snippets, so i don’t end up embarrassing myself. i’m trying and i’m learning, so constructive criticism is welcome!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷masterlist 

please don’t interact with this post if you are below 18 years old!

“come on, give it to me.”

you whine into changbin’s ear, his hands lingering on your hips for way too long. you feel him smirk against your skin before taking it in his lips again. he sucks on your neck and it feels right, but it shouldn’t. he shouldn’t know how to make your back arch, how to make you moan, how to soak your folds. not anymore, at least. nevertheless, your hands find themselves gripping changbin’s hair as you tilt your head to allow him more access.

your body loves to betray you, it seems, because you let out a soft moan when he licks a stripe on the side of your neck. he chuckles, his arm finding its way around your waist. the moment your back arches again in desperation and pleasure, he pulls your body into him, and your skin burns with the thought of having him again.

“changbin,” you breathe, pulling on his hair to bring him up to your face, eyes locking instantly, “you know what i want.”

your voice shakes and he blinks slowly, a small smirk forming on his plump and swollen lips. his free hand comes up to your cheek, caressing it, and for a moment, you forget who he was. in his eyes, you see the man who used to love you. the fire that you longed to burn for you again is in his eyes and you let out a sigh, opening your mouth to say something else. he beats you to it.

“i do,” changbin continues caressing your cheek, “and i plan to give it to you, baby. i never disappoint you, you know i don’t.”

his words shouldn’t hurt as much as they did. you knew he never disappointed you in bed. he always took care of you, so why was it so hard for him to care for you when you’re not in the sheets anymore? in response, you let out a whine, leaning into his hand on your cheek. as much as you know you shouldn’t give into him, you couldn’t stop.

you didn’t want to.

changbin carefully removes his hand from your cheek, putting it on your waist to start trailing it down the side of your body. every touch, every contact you had with this man had your skin aching for more. you spread your legs to further accommodate him and he obliges, making himself comfortable in the place he once called heaven. you wonder if he still feels the same way.

you didn’t have to think of anything else when you start feeling his hand on your thigh. your eyes lock again, the arm around your waist keeping you grounded and reminding you this wasn’t a wet dream. changbin was here, on top of you, fingers painfully near the place you wanted him the most. you buck your hips up and he hums.

“so needy, baby. you missed me?”

“you have no fucking idea,” you moan softly. changbin raises an eyebrow, shaking his head as a smug smile forms on his lips. “just give it to me, baby. make me feel good, make me cum, please, binnie, fuck, i—“

you cut yourself off with a moan, his fingers finding their way to your clit. his breath is hot on your neck as he rubs slow circles on your nub. you find your legs opening up even more and he lets out a soft snort.

“this enough?” changbin teases, sucking another hickey onto your neck, as if you didn’t have enough. you shake your head, gasping softly when you feel him squeeze your waist.

you hated that you still knew what that meant. when you were still together, that meant that he wanted you to use your words. damn him. you take a sharp breath before speaking, “need your fingers, please—“

changbin grunts against your skin, fingers now making their way down to where you ached. his fingers circle your hole and a moan rings through your ears.

“god, you’re always so fucking wet for me, baby. my good girl,” he mumbles as he plunges a finger in. your back arches, mouth falling open as your moan of “yes” echoes in your bedroom. he removes his arm around your waist, planting it beside your head to support himself.

before you could fully adjust to his finger, he inserts another. you cry out his name as your hand latches on to his bicep. you forgot how good he was in bed. changbin knew everything about you, where you were sensitive, where you body burned for him, where you wanted him. he proves it again tonight when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting your spot immediately. you tighten your grip on his bicep as you moan.

“look at me,” changbin sighs. without much hesitation, you follow. your eyes lock for the third time tonight and you feel something erupt in your chest.

“there’s my good girl.”

you let out a choked cry at his words, the hand on his bicep falling to the sheets as you grip that instead. you weren’t his girl anymore, but for tonight, at least, you were. you feel a lump form in your throat, so you turn away from his gaze, deciding to look at anything else, but him. changbin grabs your chin gently before turning your head, so you could look at him.

“eyes on me when you cum, baby.”

you nod, pouting when changbin removes his hand from your chin. he chuckles lowly. he makes up for it when his fingers move faster in you. you’re tempted to close your eyes and throw your head back, but the way his eyes bore into yours made you think otherwise. you feel the knot in your stomach threatening to break. you grip the sheets tighter this time.

“you’re all mine tonight, yeah?”

and with his words, you finish, back arching on the bed as your legs try to close themselves. with his free hand, changbin pries them open as the movement of his fingers slow to help you ride out your high. your thighs start to shake slightly. you feel your walls pulsing against his fingers before he pulls them out. changbin licks them clean, eyes not leaving yours.

“changbin,” you cry softly, your hand reaching out for him in an attempt to bring him closer to you, “please, i need you.”

changbin nods and removes his shirt quickly. you take this moment to admire him for all that he was. this was the man who broke your heart, but here you were, under him again, almost drooling at the sight of him. you tilt your head and he gives you an amused look as he raises an eyebrow. you reach out your hand to trail it down his torso. he takes a sharp breath. you’ve felt his body a ton of times, but why does tonight feel different?

“i love your body,” you praise. changbin chuckles, leaning down to press his lips on yours. both of your lips move in sync and you taste yourself on his lips. it’s almost as if he never left you, like you’re still used to doing this, but in reality, it’s been months since the last. that fact didn’t deter you, however, because your hand is on his cheek again and the other is on his shoulder blade. one of his hands finds its way to the back of your head and he’s pulling you in deeper. his other hand is on his sweatpants, trying to pull it down to free himself.

you pull away to help him out and his chuckle rings out in the bedroom. “what?” you question.

changbin shakes his head as he pulls his sweatpants off, tossing it somewhere in your bedroom. “this takes me back to our first time.”

it was supposed to be a light-hearted joke, but it stabs you in the heart in ways you didn’t even know was possible. the lump in your throat earlier has formed again and you look away. you didn’t want to remember that, not anymore. that was when he still loved you. this is different. this is casual. something that only happened when you both needed it.

you agreed that there would be no feelings involved, but how could you deny the fact that when his lips are on yours, you still get goosebumps? how could you deny the fact that when his lips brush your skin, you still feel sparks? how could you deny the fact that you still loved him? but what could you do, now that he’s not yours anymore?

agreeing to casual sex with him was the only other way to keep him in your life and in an intimate way such as this.

changbin whispers your name to get your attention, his hand brushing hair off of your face and tucking it behind your ear. you turn to gaze up at him, blinking.

“are you with me?” he asks.

“i’m with you,” you respond quietly, voice threatening to break as you reach up to put a hand on his cheek again and giving it a quick caress. “i’m with you.”

changbin smiles softly and your heart aches. he pulls away from your touch, leaning over to his bedside table to grab a condom. you let out a soft laugh, trying to make things lighter for you. it was his turn to ask, “what?”

you shake your head, watching him as he ripped the packet open. “you must expect a lot of girls to have a box of condoms in your drawer.” you ignore the pang in your chest as the words leave your mouth.

changbin snickers as he pinches the top of the condom before sliding himself in it. he puts a hand beside your head again, the other lining himself up on your entrance. he looks up at you.

“only you, sweetheart.”

your breath hitches and before you could answer, changbin pushes himself inside of you. the stretch burns ever so slightly, but it was the specific burn you have been looking for. your fingers and other toys didn’t do you any justice. it’s changbin, and only changbin, who’s able to provide you with such satisfaction and pleasure. his cock was thick and long, but it fit right in you.

both of you moan when he bottoms out. he drops his head, closing his eyes as he lets you adjust to his size.

“you’re so tight.”

you whimper at his words, legs wrapping around his waist to push changbin in deeper, if that was even possible. he lets out a groan before folding his arms beside your head, using his elbows for support, closing in the space between the two of you. he leans his forehead against yours as he starts to move.

“give it to me,” you beg, hands cupping his cheeks. it was painful that it was this slow. it was too intimate for the both of you, but you knew that you never wanted it to stop, no matter how much it brought you to simpler times with the man that was once yours. he closes his eyes as he starts to move faster, the sounds of your slick echoing in the bedroom.

“changbin,” you moan, “fuck me. give it to me how i want it, you know how i want it—“

“of course i do,” he responds breathlessly. changbin uses his hands to support him, towering over you as he starts pounding into you. your hands on his cheeks fall to sheets, eyes closing as his name easily rolls off your tongue.

“my good girl, are you mine?” changbin asks, eyes not leaving you as he continues to relentlessly pound into your cunt. the simple answer is no. but it was fun to pretend, even if it hurt you in the morning. you weren’t his girl anymore, but tonight, you were, and that was enough.

a string of yeses leave your mouth. you’re moaning his name again like it was the only name you’ve ever known, like a prayer directed up into the sky as you arch your back in pleasure. when your back hits the mattress again, you gaze at him. changbin knew you in ways no one else knew you, but you had to move on someday, in someway. you push your thoughts away as you lean up to kiss him gently. the action surprises him, the movement of his hips falter as he kisses you back in the same way you kissed him—soft and gentle.

when you pull away, he breathes your name, eyes glossy. you reach up to swipe a thumb under his eye to wipe away the tear that threatens to leave it. your heart pounds in your chest as you lean your forehead against his, legs tightening around his waist. you needed him and you wanted him as close to you as possible. you don’t know when the next time will be and if tonight was the last, then at least you could say that you made the most of it. you drape your arm on the back of his neck as you lean back on the mattress.

you watch as he bites his lip, the movements of his hips returning to its pace earlier. you wanted to close your eyes, but you wanted to see him. you wanted to see the way his hair fell onto his forehead, the sweat forming on the side of his head, the way he watched his cock disappearing into you. he looks up at you, eyebrows scrunched and you could tell he has something on his mind.

“tell me something,” you gasp, letting your legs fall to his side. changbin grunts, leaning back as he puts his hands on your waist. he starts railing into you and whatever thoughts you had before this vanished as you were consumed by everything that was changbin. the sounds of your skin meeting rings out in the room.

“i love you.”

you don’t hear it at first, but when you realize what he breathed out, you let out a broken moan. your relationship in bed was easy. that was the thing. you could love him all day long, but he wouldn’t reciprocate unless the both of you were in bed. you didn’t know if it was just his lust talking, but fuck it felt good hearing him say that again. if he asked you back now, you wouldn’t deny him, that was for sure. it was pathetic, but it was changbin and you wanted no one else.

i love you. thrust. i love you. thrust. i love you.

you’re crying his name out as you reach your high, tears falling down from your eyes. you grip his shoulder as he helps you ride out your high. god, it shouldn’t be this painful, being under him like this, but you wouldn’t be anywhere else. changbin moves faster as he runs after his own climax and before you know it, he’s coming undone inside you with a soft groan of your name. you shudder at his words, slightly rolling your hips against his to help him ride out his own high.

changbin knew you and he knew the words you wanted to hear. he knew the buttons he had to press to get you where you needed to be, the spots he had to pleasure to make you feel good. maybe that’s why you connected so well in bed and not outside it. he drops his head on the side of your neck, both of your chests heaving. he wordlessly pulls out after a while, taking the condom off of him and tying it up to throw it away in the bin beside his bed. he lies beside you.

both of you stay in silence, only the sounds of your breathing echoing in the room. you didn’t know how to react to his words as you bask in the aftermath of everything that transpired earlier. you look over, his eyes closed. you fight the urge to reach out for him and feel the intimacy you both created earlier, but you knew that this was the changbin that you called your ex. you weren’t his girl again, not until the next time, whenever that may be.

“i wish we connected in our relationship the way we connect in bed,” you mutter as you look away from him to look up the ceiling. you clasp your hands on your stomach and he doesn’t respond. you close your eyes to take in a breath.

the next morning, the space beside you is empty and cold. you reach out to the spot, however, somehow feeling his warmth still. his scent lingers in the sheets. this was changbin now, your ex who still had the benefits of a lover. you grip the side of his bed and you sigh.

beside you, you hear the bedroom door open. you turn around and you meet the eyes that were boring into yours last night. your heart jumps out of your chest.

he stayed.

“good morning,” changbin greets, a soft smile on his lips. you tilt your head. was this a dream? he inches closer to you before sitting on the edge of the bed. “anything you want for breakfast?”

maybe everything will be alright after all.

[jihyuncompass]

A Little More Interesting

Welcome to Kinktober 2021! While this is my first time participating I’m very exited to give you some treats and spice to add to your Starbucks drink and Halloween candy. Now. Without any further ado, welcome to the first fic of the month. 

Kinktober 2021. Week One 

Marius x MC

Word Count: 4.3k 

NSFW. Only read if 18+

Tags Below the Cut 

Warnings/Tags: Collaring, Vaginal Fingering, Public/Semi-Public, Toys

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

“I have a couple things for you,” Marius said after pulling into a parking spot. You glanced up from your phone, Marius’s eyes were on you. A glint in his eye that made it clear that he had something on his mind. Setting your phone aside, your attention went to him. Noticing your attention on him he smiled then reached for the bag in the backseat. 

He handed the bag over to you, dropping it into your lap. After giving him another odd look you reached back into the bag to find it’s contents. 

Marius’s gaze was locked on you as you pulled out what looked to be a jewelry box, too big for a ring but probably about the size of a necklace. Holding the box in your hand your gaze went back to Marius. His brow was arched, like he was waiting to see your reaction. Feeling around the box you started to pull up on the top. 

“Wait.” Marius said, his hand resting on the top of the box. “Before you open it.” Your hands stopped, eyes returning to him. “We talked about this not too long ago, but if you don’t want it. You don’t have to accept it.” 

His words only grew your curiosity, opening the jewelry box. Inside lay what a t first looked like a typical necklace. A simple silver chain with a ring in the center. Within the ring, a small purple gem. Simple, yet elegant. The realization didn’t hit until you lifted the piece out of the box, noticing the clasp on the end. Two small rings connected by what looked to be a small lock.

“You don’t have to wear it.” Marius said. Any previous show of confidence had fallen away. “If you don’t want to or you feel you’re not ready.” 

Holding it in your hands you considered it, knowing Marius it was likely custom made. Designed for you specifically by him. You could just imagine Marius, choosing the details on the silver chain, picking the perfect gem to match the color of his eyes. The lock on the clasp, small but by looks of it rather strong. 

“You have the key for it?” You asked him. Seemingly stunned by your sudden question Marius nodded quickly but took an extra second to find his voice. 

“I do.” Marius reached under his shirt, pulling out a similar silver chain to the one in your hand. At the end, a small silver key. 

You didn’t require much more time to consider it. Taking another moment to admire it, you handed it to Marius. Who was watching you intently. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” He asked. 

“Yes.” You said, putting on a smile to show your honesty. “I trust you Marius, and I want this.” 

Marius took the key around his neck and quickly unlocked the tiny lock at the clasp. Adjusting in the seat you let your back face him. Moments later his hands put the subtle collar around your neck. Closing your eyes you focused in on the feeling of the lock clicking closed. The light but present pressure where the collar rested against your neck. Marius’s hands rested on your shoulders. Urging you to turn. 

“Well?” You asked him after you turned. At first he went speechless, ears turning red and voice lost. Then after a moment, when he’d been able to fully take you in, his expression shifted. His eyes narrowed and darkend, his lips pulled into a smirk. Playful yet mischievous. 

His fingers trailed from your shoulder to your neck, his fingers running over the silver chain. Leaning close to whisper. “It’s perfect.” His hand stopped at your jawline, pulling you into a kiss, his warm lips taking your’s, sending a warm feeling down into your abdomen. Breaking away from the kiss he leaned in, whispering against the shell of your ear. “It’s also the perfect reminder. That you’re mine.” 

“I am yours.” You whispered back, holding his face in your hands. “Always will be.” 

Marius smiled, his gaze full of warmth and adoration as he looked at you. Letting himself watch you for a moment longer he pulled away just the slightest bit. 

“There’s one more thing in the bag.” He said, motioning to the bag still resting in your lap. Letting your hands drop from his face you reached in for the second item, a larger box than the last one. 

Your mouth parted in a brief shock. Your face instantly flushed bright red. 

“These events are always so boring.” Marius said. “I thought this might make it a little more interesting.” 

Interesting was one word for it you thought as you held the box for a remote controlled vibrator. You’d seen these online and in other things but never in person, you turned the box over in your hands. The flush on your face was growing worse by the moment. 

“Well?” Marius asked. 

“You really think this is a good idea?” You questioned. 

Marius smirked. “Thought it could make the night a little more interesting, that’s all.” Marius winked, looking away from him you looked at the box in your hand. The idea seemed outrageous, it wasn’t appropriate and it could cause trouble for the both of you. 

But also, you couldn’t ignore the heat growing in your lower abdomen, and the excitement sparking through your nerves. Considering the box you pulled out the device, thumb brushing over the soft silicone outside. 

Marius leaned in, the smirk briefly disappearing from his face. “We don’t have to.” Glancing between Marius and the toy you weighed your options. 

“We can use our safe word?” You asked. 

“Of course.” Marius responded in complete seriousness. “Still paintbrush, right?” You nodded. 

Taking a breath of courage you fully removed the toy from its packaging, turning it around in your hand to get a feel for it. “Did you happen to bring any lube with you?” 

“Dammit.” Marius cursed. “I knew I forgot something.” He ran a hand through his carefully styled hair, messing up some of the strands. He hastily glanced around the car, hoping maybe he could find something suitable. 

“It’s okay.” You said, stopping his frantic search. “I can just do it the traditional way.” 

“Traditional way?” Marius asked. Before you answered you’d set the toy on the console, your hand reaching between your legs, pushing aside your clothes to get where you wanted to be. “Oh.” Marius said. “That way.” 

You smirked to yourself as your finger ran against your slit, already growing wet from just your thoughts alone. Your finger circled your clit, forcing you to take a sharp breath in, your finger rubbed on the sensitive nub quickly growing swollen by the sensation. 

As your fingers moved downwards, towards your core already beginning to ache you felt Marius’s eyes on you. Throwing him a glance you happily took in his flustered face while he watched you, 

“What’s that look for?” You cooed. “Do you want to help?” 

He cleared his throat, then nodded. Trying to keep his cool as he shifted his position. You pulled your own hand away as his hand traveled down your thigh to your core. Leaning back in the seat you readjusted your hips to get a better angle for him. 

Your eyes slipped closed as his fingers ran over your slit, collecting the wetness as he moved. Biting your lip you attempted to savor the feeling as he started down towards your entrance. Careful to use the fingers without a copious amount of rings he let one finger slip in, then a second not long after. 

Marius wasted no time, his fingers already pumping in and out of you as his thumb made quick circles around your clit. You didn’t hesitate to let moans fall past your lips, each sound only making Marius go faster. 

“Marius-” You said, forcing the name past your lips. 

“Hm?” Marius answered. 

“I think-” You paused to let another wave of pleasure pass. “I think I’m ready for it.” Marius slowed his hand, letting you reach for the toy you left on the console. 

He took the toy from you, using his other hand to angle it while his other hand pulled out of you. Using the remaining arousal coating his fingers to smear it on the tip. He looked back to your face, checking your expression. 

You nodded at him, giving him the confirmation he needed for him to push the toy past your folds and inside you. Swallowing thickly you groaned from the pleasant stretch, taking some moments to adjust to the new feeling. 

“How’s that?” Marius asked, hand resting on your upper thigh. 

“It’s good.” You readjusted your clothing, sitting up straight. Heavily aware of the toy now fully inside you as you sat in the seat of the car. Looking in the mirror you fixed your hair and straightened out your clothes. 

Marius put the vibrator box back into the bag, tossing it back into the backseat. Straightening himself out as you did. The two of you took a moment to collect yourselves before exchanging a glance. 

“Ready to go in?” Marius asked. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

-

Tonight’s event wasn’t anything special. Especially not in comparison to some of the other events you’d attended with Marius in the past. As always the drinks were overflowing and the food while of good quality not bountiful in quantity. Following your partner you made the rounds to the copious amounts of well dressed business associates Marius knew. 

“Oh my that’s such a beautiful choker you’re wearing.” One woman said to you, motioning to the accessory on your neck. In the corner of your eye you noticed how Marius smirked to you. “Where’d you get it?” 

You were about to speak when Marius spoke first. “It’s custom made.” He explained, focused on the woman speaking you missed Marius’s hand slipping into his pocket. 

“Well it’s absolutely beautiful.” She said to you, then turned to Marius. “I must get the name of your jeweler.” 

The sudden jolt of the toy nearly made you gasp, clearing your throat to avoid making any other sounds. Inside you the toy vibrated aggressively against your walls. Shooting Marius a look, you  cleared your throat again. 

“I’m sorry I think I need a drink.” You apologized. “Please excuse me.” Stepping away from the conversation you bit your lip, the vibrations grew slowly in intensity as you walked towards one of the servers carrying a tray of glasses of wine. 

While you walked back towards Marius the vibrations slowed to a stop. Marius’s hand leaving his pocket to shake someone’s hand. Breathing a sigh of relief you rejoined him, although the mischievous glint in his eye remained. 

“Doing okay? You look a little red.” Marius teased after the others had walked away. Pressing your lips into a thin line you ignored him, even as he took your hand in his, and his other hand slipped back into his pocket. 

You braced yourself, waiting for him to start the vibrator again. However he just winked at you, leading you towards another small gathering of people. Putting on his business smile as he approached. 

These conversations were usually nothing you found particularly interesting, this one included. You listened as Marius talked about business with one of the older men. Discussing PAX’s latest ventures and asking about one another’s families. You sipped at your wine while they spoke. Usually being just the littlest bit tipsy during times like this made the small talk bearable to get through. 

“And what about you?” The man Marius had been speaking to asked you. “What do you do for work?” 

“Oh I’m-” Your sentence was cut off by the return of the vibrations. You collected yourself after a moment, pushing through the increasing setting of the toy. 

“Are you feeling alright?” The man asked. “You look a bit overheated.” 

“I’m fine. Thank you.” You said, digging your nails into your hand to keep your composure. “It’s a bit warm. That’s all.”

 You carried on with your conversation, fighting the pleasure very quickly spreading through your boy as you talked. Marius was enjoying this, that you could easily tell. His expression showed how obviously he was undressing you with his eyes, and between the toy inside you and the pressure of the collar around your neck you were starting to find it difficult to keep your composure. 

The night continued this way, with Marius routinely turning the toy on and off as he pleased. With each cycle of it making it harder and harder for you to keep control of yourself. You already could tell your face was red, your knees getting shaky from how he’d started to get you close before turning it off again. 

After a while you’d convinced Marius to sit down with you at one of the tables in the venue. Marius held your hand as you watched others flutter around one another in conversation. All the same typical business chatter, what everyone was doing, new business plans or partnerships, maybe a mention of a spouse or children. 

“Do you want more to drink?” Marius asked, motioning to one of the servers. “I could get you another glass.” 

You shook your head, you’d already drunk enough to be pleasantly buzzed, but considering your current state and the way Marius was still looking at you, getting any more intoxicated would probably be a bad move. 

“I didn’t expect to see you both here.” A voice said from beside you. Turning your head, your mouth fell open as Artem walked up to the two of you. 

“Oh hey.” Marius said. His tone gave away a slight annoyance. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I had a client invite me along. Figured I’d accept the offer.” Artem said. He smiled at you softly. “It’s good to see you. I hope you’re enjoying yourself?” 

You matched his smile. “I am. Are you?” You asked. Artem pulled up a chair to sit next to you, your eyes on him instead of Marius you didn’t think much about the way he was looking at the two of you. 

“I’m usually not one for events like this, but it’s been pretty nice so far.” Artem said, nursing a glass of wine in his hand. You nodded thoughtfully. 

“I’m not really a huge fan of these either. The food and drinks definitely make up for it though.” You said. 

“Based on what I’ve had here, I think I’m inclined to agree with you.” 

You were about to speak further when your voice was caught in your throat. Marius had

turned the toy on again. This time at a higher speed than he had ever set before. Pressing your lips together in a fine line you attempted to breathe through the waves of pleasure pulsing through your body. If you looked uncomfortable at least Artem didn’t seem to notice as he carried on with the conversation. 

“How long are you both planning on staying?” Artem asked, sipping on his wine. 

“I’m not sure.” You said, crossing your legs to try and keep the intensity controlled the best you can. “How long are you staying?” 

“Not for long I hope.” Artem said. “I have some work I want to work on tonight.” You nodded, your nails digging into your knee as Marius turned up the vibrations again. Biting your cheek as you fought back the sounds you wanted to make, keeping yourself as still as possible so your knees didn’t shake. 

“Y-yeah.” You agreed, voice cracking. “Especially with that case we just got.” You said, having to force yourself to say every word while the intense pressure in your abdomen grew bigger and bigger, heart beating faster, and face getting more hot by the word. “I did look at the case files earlier but-” You took a breath to catch yourself. “I didn’t get a chance to spend much time with it.” 

Artem set his wine glass on the table. “If you’d like we could meet and go over the details of the case. There is a lot to keep track of.” 

“Oh that would be great-” The sudden increase in the speed of the toy made you stop, covering your face with your hand. Feigning a coughing fit to distract from how your whole body was shaking and how it was becoming impossible to keep yourself together anymore. You were getting so close, so close so- 

“Do you need something to drink?” Artem asked, leaning close to try and see your face, you coughed harder to keep your face hidden, nodding frantically. 

Just as Artem stepped away to find something for you to drink you shot Marius a look, he was smirking clearly proud of himself and the mess he was making you. 

“Awful coughing fit you’re having there.” Marius teased. 

You squeezed his thigh. “Paintbrush.” You said. Within a second the toy was off, and Marius took his hand out of his pocket. His smirk disappeared, replaced with concern. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, moving closer. 

You nodded after a second. Marius rubbing your back. “It was just too much right now.” You whispered. Marius nodded, understanding. “Thank you for stopping.” 

“Of course.” Marius said. Artem returned, a glass of water in his hand. Quickly handing it off to you. After several long sips you set the glass down, giving yourself time to collect yourself. 

“Better?” Artem asked, concern written all over his face. 

“Yes, much better.” You answered, sitting up straight. “Thank you.” You sipped at the water, feeling the flush in your face going down. Marius’s hand remained on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing small circles. 

After finishing the glass Artem brought you glanced back at Marius. He’d been watching the rest of the party but quickly turned back towards you. 

“Are you wanting to go?” Marius asked you, voice low and soft. 

“I think so.” You said, finally gaining your strength back. “Besides, we have something to do.” You smirked at him, his face completely changing as he realized what you were thinking. 

“Oh that’s right.” He said. “We did have something to do.” 

You both rose from your seats, even with the toy off your legs were still shaking, your whole body struggling to keep upright. “I’m sorry to leave just after running into you.” You said to Artem. 

“It’s alright, I’ll probably leave soon myself.” Artem stood to match you both. “Get home safe. Both of you.” 

After saying a proper goodbye, you both hurried out of the venue. Holding tight to Marius’s hand as you hurried back to the parking lot. 

The second Marius’s car came into view you headed straight for the backseat, hastily opening the door and pulling Marius inside with you. 

“What-” You cut Marius off by kissing him. Pushing him against the seats as you moved to straddle his hips. His hands went immediately to rest on your hips, pulling you closer, Your hands held his jaw. Forcing him to stay close. 

You only pulled away when you needed to breathe, Marius staring at you a bit stunned. 

“You’re eager.” He said, finding his voice. You frowned, leaning in close. 

“And who’s fault is that?” You shot back, kissing him again. Your lips moved against his, pulling him in further and deeper. Marius’s hands moved downwards until he was holding your ass, digging his fingers in as you groaned. 

Breaking away from his lips you moved to press kisses along his jawline and his neck. Seeking that sweet spot you knew he liked you to pay attention to. As you did so your hands moved to his waist, searching for his pocket where he kept his phone. 

“Mmn..” Marius moaned as you found the sweet spot, although not unaware of your hand as if reached into his pocket. “Whatcha looking for babe?” He asked, pulling your head away from his neck. 

“You know what I’m looking for Marius.” You went back to reaching into his pocket until Marius’s hand around your wrist stopped you. His mischievous look returned, sending a twinge of excitement straight to your core.  

“You want more?” He whispered into your ear. 

“Yes.” Marius’s fingers traveled towards your neck, fingers brushing against the collar still locked tightly around your neck. “Please Marius.” You asked. 

Marius hummed, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I’ll turn it on. But.” He started. “We’re doing this my way.” 

Before you could even answer Marius pulled you off of him, readjusting so his back was against the car door, legs laying across the seats. 

“Come here baby.” Marius said, leading for you to lay with your back against his front. You gave him a strange look over your shoulder while you laid against him. His arm around your waist to keep you in place. 

You watched as Marius opened the app he’d been using before. Waiting not-so patiently as he slowly started to turn it back up again. 

A loud sigh of relief escaped you as the vibrator started, watching as Marius slowly turned it up. 

“Faster.” You whispered. “Please make it go faster.” Marius shook his head as pressed a kiss to your temple. Savoring every moment as you whined against him.  “Marius, please.” 

After another long agonizing moment Marius obliged, turning up the intensity just the smallest amount. Enough for the sensations to be pleasant, but not enough to satisfy you. You needed more than that. 

“You’re so pretty like this.” Marius said. “All bothered and begging.” The hand around your waist moved up, cupping your breast. You groaned, head falling back against his shoulder. Closing your eyes you press your legs together, hoping to maybe get more sensation than the cruelly low setting Marius had the toy at. 

Marius used the hand with his phone to part your legs. “Let’s not do that, remember I’m the one in charge right now.” You whined, your eyes squeezed shut, you were going to go crazy like this. 

“Please turn it up more. Please.” You begged. “Please.” 

Marius considered you for a moment, your face was getting flushed already, you looked so perfect like this, like putty in his hands. If he really wanted to he could keep you like this for hours, but you also looked so beautiful, and he struggled to refuse you. 

He turned up the speed, leaving you gasping. It was high enough now that you couldn’t stop the moans from leaving your lips. Your hips ground down against Marius below you, seeking something, anything more to make you feel good. Behind you Marius groaned, turning up the toy even higher without another thought. 

“Marius oh god-” You cried out. “It’s- ugh-” The waves of pleasure were getting more intense, rising in pressure as you felt it start to swell in your abdomen. You weren’t going to last, you were so close. Just a little bit more is all you would need. 

“Are you close?” Marius asked. 

“Y-yes!” You said, your hand gripping his wrist so tightly you thought you might break it. “Please I’m so close I’m-” 

You cried out loudly as Marius turned down the vibrator, returning to a setting just barely enough to feel. 

“Why?” You asked. “Marius-” 

“You’re mine right?” He said. His hand moved from your breast to your neck, fingers tracing the bottom of your collar. 

“Marius.” You looked at him over your shoulder. He stared into your eyes, he looked like he was seeking something in you. Something that you’d only seen when he needed your reassurance. “Of course I’m yours. I’m only yours.” 

“Good.”He whispered. Marius kissed you, pulling you closer against him. With your eyes closed you were hardly focused on anything as with his one hand Marius turned the vibrator up again. You gasped into the kiss, pulling away a moment later to moan and looking back at his phone. Slowly he was turning it up, approaching the level it’d been at during the party. The point where you hadn’t been able to keep yourself collected anymore. 

Now you didn’t hesitate to moan. You couldn’t even care if people could hear you outside this car, right now you just needed to feel good. That’s it. 

Your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling, the white hot pressure that was at its breaking point inside you. Just a little more, just another moment, just another-

One last boost in the speed was all it took. You screamed in pure pleasure as your back arched, your entire body tensing as the pleasure exploded inside you. Your body shook, eyes shut and voice going hoarse from how loudly you’d cried. 

Marius turned the vibrator off a final time as you slumped against him, chest heaving as you caught your breath. A layer of sweat coating your skin, as your hands shook. Your eyes stayed closed, even while Marius pulled aside your clothes to remove the toy, covered in your slick. He smiled at the sight. Your eyes opened just enough to see it, before shutting again. 

Setting the toy aside Marius wrapped his arms around you, kissing your neck and jaw. “You did so good, baby. I love you.” Marius whispered. You smiled, too exhausted to say anything. 

You laid there like that for a long while, Marius pressing kisses wherever he could reach, your eyes closed while you gathered your strength again. 

“Let’s go home.” You said. “I think you deserve a little something tonight too.” 

Marius smiled. “Are you sure? I bet you’re exhausted.” 

“I’m sure.” You said, sitting up fully. Marius sat up with you, looking at you with those adoring eyes you were completely obsessed with. 

Marius’s hand brushed against the collar on your neck. “Do you want to keep this on? I can take it off if you want?” 

You shook your head. Taking his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “No, I like it. I want to keep it on.” 

Happily, Marius accepted your answer. Helping you out of the back and into the passenger seat. Ready to go home for the rest of the night. 

[mourntheantagonist]

Smut prompt!!! ( from your recent post!)

Billy has a thing for being held down. He’s been pushing steve around the school all day, trying to get a rise out of him and it WORKS- It starts out hostilely but turns into something much steamier ending in the blonde being fucked.

ABSOLUTELY!! ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY!!

cw: rough sex

***

“From here on out you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”

He said yes. He said he understood. But did he really?

What Billy understood of Max’s demands, was really just what she meant. She meant for him to keep his fists to himself, not to hurt any one of them, including Steve, and that, he understood that. But what Billy needed was for Steve to hit him. He needed for him to fucking fight back, throw another punch his way to level out the playing field. He needed for Steve to break his nose, split his lip, just do fucking something other than hang his head low and continue to avoid him like the goddamn plague.

So Billy didn’t leave him alone like Max had demanded. He teased, he pushed his buttons, he fouled him during basketball practice and shut off his shower head, he hid his gym clothes and stole his towel off the rack. Anything to just get a rise out of him.

But Steve just takes it. He never does anything more than roll his eyes and say “Hargrove” like it’s a slur. But Billy can also see how he’s beginning to wear Steve down, little by little, getting closer and closer to fucking exploding.

Until he does. After an entire scrimmage game where Billy fouled Steve enough times that he was ejected, followed up by an already pissed off Steve having his towel ripped from the rack for probably the fifteenth time that month. Steve had had enough, and promptly pushed Billy up against the shower walls with more force than he would have anticipated. Steve took him by the wrists and shoved a knee into the back of his thigh until Billy was fully pinned to the wall and completely immobilized.

“Cut that shit out Hargrove.” Steve said, in a low and husky voice directly into his ear, the heat of his breath making the inside of Billy’s head buzz. The bones in Steve palms dug deep into Billy’s wrists, and when he let go, Billy nearly fell to the floor. His legs felt like jelly and he refused to turn around from where he was facing the wall as everyone crowded around and laughed, congratulating a Steve who pushed past everyone after retrieving his stolen towel. Meanwhile, Billy’s still not turning around until all of the other guys have scattered away.

Because he’s fucking hard.

He could still feel Steve’s hands on his wrists on the drive back home, red all around the circumference. He could still smell him, all up in his space pressing his entire weight into the wall leaving him completely motionless. He needed more. He needed that again.

So he kept pushing. He kept pushing despite Steve’s warnings, because to Billy, it was a fucking promise.

Except this time around it was different, because he tried to do it when no one else was around. He fucked with the shower head just enough so that it was just the two of them left to occupy the boys locker room after hours. Naked, dripping wet, horny…

And Steve, absolutely fired up.

“Don’t think I won’t do it again asshole.” Steve said as he dried himself off with a towel, still undressed, and Billy didn't know where he got the nerve to steal a look so obviously at the brunette as he toweled off his hips, biting his lower lip. That was just the first step in a series of bold, and honestly, stupid moves out of Billy, because next thing he knew he had one hand latched on to Steve’s towel.

“Don’t think I don’t want you to.”

You could hear a pin drop to the floor with just how silent the room got. Steve just stared at Billy who still had his hand firmly gripping the corner of the towel, waiting for Steve to give, to let up on his own grip just enough for Billy to yank it from his possession and drop it to the floor.

Steve was still, unmoving, and the awkward silence was deafening, so after already sealing his fate, he said what he wanted, made it clear.

“Pin me. Take whatever you want from me.” Billy said, tugging on the towel a little harder, but Steve’s grip that hadn’t given.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve’s eyes were narrowing in on him, like maybe, just maybe, Billy struck a bit of a nerve.

Billy tugged on the towel again. “Pin me up against those lockers.”

Steve tugged back.

“Yeah? Then what?” Steve asked.

Billy tugged again. “Punch me...” Steve tugged back, but Billy tugged again, harder. “Fuck me…”

Steve let go, and the towel fell to the floor in slow motion, all dramatic like it was straight out of a movie scene. Billy moved to close the distance between them a little more, chests nearly touching and each other’s breaths able to be felt on their faces. “Whatever you want.”

Not a second passed before Billy found his cheek smashed up against the door of his locker and Steve’s entire naked body up against his back. They were pressed so close together that he could feel Steve’s heart as it beat through his chest, along with his shaky breathing, right in his ear. Steve’s hands were back at his wrists in the same exact spot they were the last time, pressing them firmly into the locker, almost hard enough it might leave a small dent in the metal.

Steve was clearly hesitant, his hands still firmly placed where they were, and his breathing only growing more uneven. Billy might have thought Steve might choose the “punch me” option if it weren’t for the fact that his dick was right up against his ass, clearly just as excited as he was. Steve was still nervous, and all that meant was that he just needed a little bit more encouraging taunting.

“Go ahead pretty boy, fuck me like you hate me.”

That was enough for Steve’s hands to finally move, to trail down the length of his arms and down his back with the same bruising force the whole way down, like a deep tissue massage that he’d surely still feel later on.

Steve’s hands trailed all the way down to his ass where he squeezed hard, let out a heavy breath, and paused right there, cupping his cheeks and spreading them apart.

“Fuck,” Steve swears, “what the fuck are we doing?!” Steve slams his fist against the lockers hard, the sound of metal echoing off the tile walls and the vibrations buzzing in Billy’s head.

Billy laughed. “My duffel. Condom, lube, it’s all in there…”

Steve gives Billy a good push into the lockers before walking over to the duffel on the floor and pulling the two aforementioned items out of the bag’s side pocket. He held up the golden foil and small bottle of aloe vera and just stared at them.

“Did you come prepared for this?” Steve asked, it was an accusation.

“This was the plan all along pretty boy, let’s just say I was hopeful.” Billy said as he shifted his feet on the floor so his legs were spread further. “Now quit fucking stalling!”

Steve made his way back over and without warning, introduced an aloe coated finger to his hole that slipped right in, but Billy still gasped.

“Hurry up Harrington! I’m already stretched and ready, fuck me with your dick!” Billy snarled, and threw his hips backwards into Steve.

Steve skipped over a second finger and went straight up to three, while with the help of his free hand and his teeth, he opened up the condom and slipped it over his cock.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, but it was quickly followed by another slam on the locker doors, this time from Billy.

“Quit treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!” Billy shouted, “Hold me down and take what you fucking want!”

Almost instantly, Billy was pushed right back into the wall of lockers and Steve’s fingers had abruptly left their place from inside of him, leaving him with an empty feeling that was quickly relieved by the feeling of something much larger right at his entrance.

Steve’s hands were on him, but they were hardly applying any force, Billy could easily slip through it and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted from him.

“Hold me down while you fuck me!”

Steve responded to that by finally thrusting inside of him and pushing his hands even deeper into his shoulder blades. Billy let out a short moan upon impact, but still wriggled his body unsatisfied.

“Harder!”

Steve didn’t know which part he was talking about, so he responded to both, thrusting in even harder and deeper and pushing his hands down even more.

“More!” Billy demanded, with a maniacal laugh that enraged Steve, and he grew more and more pissed off as Billy continued to squirm around trying to get out of his grip.

“Stop fucking moving!”

“Make me!” Billy yelled. “Fucking make me!”

Steve doesn’t know whether it was the anger, or Billy’s own demands that caused him to bring his hand up to the side of Billy’s head and shove him right into the wall of lockers so that his cheek was firmly smashed against them. Billy’s brain rattled inside of his skull as the force of his head made contact with the metal. He could taste blood on the inside of his mouth where his teeth must have cut, and he didn’t mind, because that’s exactly what he wanted.

“Perfect.” He said, settling any nerves Steve might have had thinking he fucked up with that move. “Now fuck me already.”

Steve didn’t remove his hand from where it was pushing into the side of Billy’s head, all tangled up in with his still wet hair, and his other hand was gripping his bicep, leaving finger shaped bruises as he pushed him hard against the lockers.

Billy was completely immobile as Steve thrusted into him, and his moans and groans were entirely uncensored and bounced off the walls in a chorus coupled with Steve’s own, that were more slicked and held back than his. Steve’s entire body weight was leaning into him and his face found a place to rest just above his shoulder, behind his head where he couldn’t see him, but only feel the heat of his breath against the back of his neck. With just that alone, Billy could feel his own dick twitch and begin to leak with pre and drip to the tile floor that was already infested with athletes foot.

Steve’s breath grew heavier, loud and hot against Billy’s skin, and what Steve did to stop his own panting was to secure his lips around the sensitive skin of Billy’s neck, and Billy gasped, and nearly stopped breathing all together and Steve gently bit down.

“Fuck!” Billy swore, his voice at a loud whisper.

He couldn’t see it, but he knew Steve had a smug fucking grin on his face.

“You like that Hargrove?”

“Shut the fuck up Harrington!”

Steve just laughed and picked up his pace, back to his heavy breathing against his neck, the heat on his wet skin making Billy shiver. He could already tell he wouldn’t last much longer.

But Steve was the first to speak up.

“Ah, I’m gonna fucking cum!” Steve said it like it was a moment of defeat, which made Billy wonder how long it usually took for Steve to reach climax with all those other girls he bragged about taking to bed. But Billy wasn’t one to talk, because he was right there with him.

“Fuck, me too.”

Steve removed the hand that was at Billy’s shoulder, and Billy was about to start complain, but then the same hand found itself wrapped right around Billy’s cock, thumb grazing over the tip with a gentle touch that drastically differed from the still strong force that was Steve’s other hand still pressing into his skull. Billy let out an embarrassingly loud moan as he nearly instantly finished directly into Steve’s hand, but the moan was almost drowned out by Steve’s voice which matched his volume as he filled up the condom from inside Billy after a final slam directly into his prostate, and Steve finally at that moment let up of the force against Billy’s head.

And Billy nearly fell directly to the floor. He couldn’t feel his own fucking legs anymore.

Steve fell backwards into one of the benches behind them, sitting his bare naked ass right on the seat as his whole body slumped forward. He pulled the condom off of his dick with a hand coated in a mixture of lube and Billy’s come.

Billy still hadn’t turned around, all of that confidence he had at the start just washing away in an instant, afraid to face Steve. Nothing started to hurt until it was actually over, and that pain was largely not even physical.

And Steve noticed that. He noticed how Billy’s entire mood changed. Just silent with his face and hands still plastered up against those locker doors like he was holding on for dear life.

Steve wiped his hand off on that towel that dropped to the floor at the whole start of it, and got back up from where he was seated on the locker room bench. He walked up to Billy and placed a firm, but not forceful hand up to Billy’s shoulder where he could already see the redness forming itself into a bruise.

“Hey.” Steve said, his voice soft.

Billy let out a long and heavy breath, like he had been holding it up until the moment Steve spoke. Steve gently turned Billy around to face him, removing him from the lockers he was practically glued to, and did something that was uninvited.

He gently traced his fingers down the length of Billy’s jaw, and when no effort was made to step back or lean away, he kissed him. Gentle on the lips where he could taste the blood on the inside of Billy’s mouth, something he didn’t really want to think too long and hard about. Billy closed his eyes and leaned into it. It was soft and sweet and completely unlike the rough and bruising fuck they just had, and that was the missing piece.

The feeling of Steve’s hands gripping his body and the sight of the bruises he left afterwards stopped feeling like a pain, but a reminder, a good fucking reminder that didn’t last nearly long enough.

But one thing he remembered was that old demand from his little sister back in November. To leave Steve alone. But if ignoring that demand was going to deliver this kind of promise, Billy doesn’t think he’ll be listening to that one any time soon.

[acapelladitty]

Heisenberg/Reader fic (nsfw)

(please check the link below to see all tags and warnings)

Full fic is also available on AO3 here

His hands are warm against your shoulders as he pins you into place with both his grasp and his stare, “Before I lock you in,” there is a slight hesitancy in his voice which isn’t common and it has your full attention, “if something fucks up then you let me know straight away so I can scrap it. Can’t go breaking my favourite toy before I’m finished with it.”

It was an attempt at humour, and you smile along with him, soothing his concealed anxieties as your hands come to rest on his chest. Both fully clothed, you knew you wouldn’t remain that way for long and the anticipation of your game was heady as he accepted your touch as consent.

“Good girl.” He purrs, the words low in his chest, “Then strip and we’ll see just how much you can take.”

The instruction sends a shiver down your spine, and you follow his command; first to go is your shirt as you carelessly pull it overhead before dropping it to the floor and you quickly follow by unclipping the back of your skirt, allowing the fabric to slip to the floor without difficulty.

A low grumble escapes his throat as he takes in your exposed core, your decision to not wear any underwear having the desired effect as you stand there and await his next instruction, the warm air of the room dancing across your skin pleasantly.

His hands come to rest on your hips, gripping the flesh there almost painfully as he guides you backwards until your ass hits upon the stocks which you will be encased within.

“Well don’t just stand there,” he growls, “assume the position so I can lock you in.”

Breaking from his grip you move around to the other side of the metal stocks and place your head and hands within the holes there, each one specifically moulded to fit you perfectly and wide enough to not be too uncomfortable with prolonged use. The height of the stocks is low, requiring you to bend your body at a right angle to fit within them; a move which leaves you fully exposed as you spread your legs to ease the ache on your lower back.

In position, you glance up at him and you can imagine how pleasant you must look, spread out and vulnerable as you were to his every whim and command. A sound of metal locking lets you know that you are now firmly trapped in place as he drops to one knee before you.

Caressing your chin with his rough fingers, his hair is falling around his face as he pierces you with his heated gaze.

“When this is all said and done and you’re a fucking mess who can barely speak let alone walk,” he says in a voice which is heavy with lust and promise, “I think we’ll celebrate by bathing together so I can inspect that body thoroughly.”

Nipping at his fingers as he brings them close to your lips, you can agree with that idea and you nod your consent.

“Anyway!” He announces loudly, causing you to jump in place as you scowl, “On with the show. Shall we meet our grand toy for this game?” He snaps his fingers and from the darkness of the room, a mechanical grating sound springs to life as a soldat appears from the gloom.

One arm is still relatively human as it connected to the torso, the glowing reactor of its heart brighter than most light sources within the room. The head is encased in metal, emotionless and anonymous, but the shining drill which has come to replace its other arm causes a spike of alarm in your heart.

“A custom build,” Heisenberg continues with a showman flourish, “with a few special touches. My soldats are built for aggression but this sorry bastard,” he indicates the soldat to move forward a few feet so that it can stand by his side, “has had that particular electrical impulse removed, he is entirely subject to my will as I control and guide his movements.”

Your eyes are so glued to the drill that it takes all your effort to pull away from it to glance at the crotch of the soldat, the area which Heisenberg was directing your attention to now.

“As you can see, it’s also been fitted with a little something extra to keep any wanton slut amused for as long as I think she deserves.”

The metal cock which juts forward from soldat was intimidating in how rigid it looked but as you peered at it, you noticed that it was just slightly smaller than Heisenberg’s own cock, coming it at about a half inch shorter and slightly thinner.

You bite at your bottom lip to hide the smile which was threatening to escape as you realise that Heisenberg must have made a point to create something less impressive than himself. Maybe he was worried he would be replaced?

Mistaking your bitten lip for worry, Heisenberg smirked.

“Don’t worry about the size, kitten, it’s nothing that I know you can’t handle.”

Gathering up some scrap metal with a wave of his hand, Heisenberg quickly fashioned it into a comfortable high-backed chair, the base of it floating a few inches off the floor as he took easy control of the materials and fell into it with ease.

“I suggest you get your lips around it and wet it up,” Heisenberg called out to you from his seated position as the soldat moved to stand by your trapped head, “because you’re going to want it to be comfortable when it’s buried within your cunt.”

Running your lips around the metallic cock, you make a show of wetting it as you take your time in running your tongue along the shaft and allowing thin trails of saliva to soak the tip.

The soldat remains passive as you manipulate it, its metallic body unable to register either pain or pleasure, and the loud whirring of its mechanics is almost soothing as it rumbles above you.

Lost in the action, your attention is caught by the sound of a belt unbuckling, and you glance up at Heisenberg to see him freeing his cock from his slacks. He’s already half hard and he runs his hand along his shaft casually as he watches you please his creation. His back is reclined on his makeshift throne and he looks every part the lord he claims to be.

“On with the show.” Heisenberg grunts, inclining to the soldat with an open palm and the creature follows its masters’ instructions without hesitation. Pulling free of your mouth, it steps back and turns methodically as it leaves your line of sight.

Moving behind you, the soldat takes position as it lines up with your entrance and awaits the instruction for it to begin. The familiar warmth of skin is missing, an odd sensation against your thighs as its unnatural cock holds position against the wetness there, a telling sign of just how much this was turning you on.

Exhibitionism was more of a ‘him’ thing but that didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate putting on a good performance and you fix him with a lustful gaze, daring him to begin. Behind you, the soldat makes its first movement as it pushes the tip of its metallic cock within you slowly, stretching you in the most enjoyable way as you run your teeth along your lower lip.

The soldat continues to push inside you until you feel the cold metal and skin which made up its crotch pressing against your ass. The fullness is intense and lacking both the softness and natural warmth of a cock which you were accustomed to. Clenching your walls around it as it slowly pulls free once more, the friction steals a full body shudder from you as it brushes your sensitive walls.

Setting a pace which was slow yet deep, you give a low moan as you squeeze your eyes closed, focusing on the ache of your clit as you wish one of your hands free to stimulate it. The stocks around you creak slightly as you push back against the soldat, trying to encourage it to move faster but to no avail as it continues its measured strokes.

A cough draws your eyes open and you lock eyes with Heisenberg once again, his cock now fully hard and laying against his stomach as he runs a finger along the shaft. Extending one finger out, a small metal ashtray cut through the air as it responded to his call and he placed the ashtray on the arm of his throne.

His fingers disappear within the ashtray and pluck free his cigar from within as his other hand dipped within his coat, pulling free a lighter which he quickly used to light the end of the cigar before dropping the lighter back into his pocket.

Inhaling deeply, he sent a thick plume of smoke to the air and you watch it dissipate with a needy growl as the soldat to your back continues its torturously slow pace.

“Something to say, kitten?” He asked, lips mumbling the words around the cigar as he tilted his head at you, amused by your noises and stroking himself slowly.

You knew you were playing with fire but logic was a million miles from your mind as you bare your teeth at him with a feral smirk.

“If this is all you have, Karl,” the use of his name gets a slight brow quirk from him, “then I’m disappointed. I could do a better job myself with less effort.”

“Is that so?”

Giving a deep hum as his lips curl into a considerate smirk, he drops some ash from his cigar carelessly to the floor and inclines to the soldat with a sharp nod as he takes a fresh draw.

Instantly, the pace within you picks up as the soldat snaps its hips forward, burying its metal cock deep within you- drawing a loud gasp of pained pleasure from you- before pulling back just as quickly and repeating the move. The gentleness is gone and your fingertips scramble against the metal stock as your breath is stolen by the sudden onslaught of pressure and pleasure.

The metal within you is unyielding and almost surgical in its precision as it brushes your most sensitive spots without pause, having no need to regain stamina or breath. You felt like a piece of meat, having no say or connection to the creature bringing you such pleasure and the dehumanising nature of it was intoxicating as you allowed yourself to be used and abused.

One particularly deep stroke seems to catch your g-spot perfectly and your scream is low and guttural as your body tenses in position, every nerve alighting and making your wrists pull against the stocks as your knees weaken. Behind you, the soldat cares nothing for your predicament as it keeps up its thrusts, ensuring that your sex remains stimulated even as your pleasure peaks and ebbs.

It’s almost too much and the brutal pace ensures that a constant stream of moans and squeals is all that can escape your throat as you can do little but endure the constant stimulation.

Your eyes were focused on your tormentor, the puppet master who was pulling the strings, and his clear enjoyment of your suffering did nothing but add to the arousal which was coursing through you. Eyes burning as your teeth snapped shut tightly enough to cause a genuine tension in your jaw, you lost yourself in the sensations as your mind seemed to white out.

As though hearing your thoughts, Heisenberg rose from his makeshift throne and came to stand before you even as you continued to whine in place. You take in his form with blurred vision, trying to blink away the unshed wetness in your eyes as you glance up at him.

“Too much, little slut? I thought you were better than this.” His cock bobbed ever so temptingly before you and your tongue licked at your lips as you listen to his words, “What a shame.”

Noticing your attention on his cock, he drops to one knee once again and brushes his fingers along your mouth as you sob out a low keen against him due to the soldat once again brushing against your most sensitive spot.

“Don’t worry, kitten, you’ll be receiving your reward in a moment but first,” his hands produce a large ring gag from within his coat and he slips it within your willing mouth as you tilt your head forward to allow him to secure it, “can’t have you accidentally biting down on me because you can’t handle a little machine fuck, can we?”

Taking a draw of his cigar, he blows the smoke in your face gently and your predicament plus the ring gag make you unable to move away from it as the scent and taste of smoke invades your senses. Standing back up, he dips his hips forward and his hand guides his cock towards your defenceless yet willing mouth and you use it as an opportunity to concentrate on something other than the hard pleasure rocketing through your core.

Your tongue reaches out to lap at the head of his cock but whatever teasing you had planned was swiftly put to rest as he shook his head for a moment before thrusting his cock within your mouth, pausing at the tip of your throat to allow you to prepare for him. Breathing deeply though your nose, you relax your throat and dip your head forward slightly as you accept him.

The invitation was clear and with a triumphant growl he pushes down your throat greedily and you fight back the urge to choke as the familiar taste of him overwhelms you. Added to this, as though taking instruction from its master, the soldat also seems to pick up its pace as it impales itself within you.

Now plugged at both ends, the soldat moves so quickly against you that you can barely differentiate the strokes and the unyielding stimulation leaves you a mindless mess of pleasure.

To your front, you allow Heisenberg to use your mouth; his own strokes deep and messy as he fucks your face with abandon, confident in the security that his cock ring provides him, and you can do nothing but attempt to relax your throat as you resign yourself to the abuse of your willing body.

Pleasure was indistinguishable from pain as ecstasy and agony melted together into one unending mess of sensation; orgasms ripping through you as time lost meaning, even as Heisenberg’s thick fingers came to pluck at your nipples as he used your throat roughly. Tears streaming from your eyes freely as you try to keep up with your breathing, as erratic and broken as it was.

Eventually you feel the cock within your mouth twitch and you have a moment’s notice before he explodes within your throat with an animalistic grunt; the soft tickle of his pubic hair irritating the end of your nose as he buried himself fully and you have to concentrate on swallowing down his release, lest you choke on it.

It's too much and another orgasm tears through you, your fingernails carving crescent shaped divots into your palms as you fist your hands desperately. The tension within your body is almost unbearable as you jerk and writhe, unable to do much more as you remain speared in place.

However, just as you feel like your legs are ready to buckle, a small mercy makes itself known.

Behind you, the soldat pulls free of you and powers down without warning and the sudden lack of fullness within you feels strange, the air of the room brushing past the mess of juices which were coating your thighs and steadily dripping down your legs. So used to Heisenberg’s lack of protection, it feels unnatural to be so thoroughly fucked and not have the warmth of another release within your core, leaking out with your own.

As you consider it, Heisenberg pulls free of your mouth and tucks his saliva-coated cock back within his slacks as he flicks what remains of his cigar butt away without care. Taking a step back, he takes in your prone state and the thin veil of sweat which coats your body.

Twitching in position as your overstimulated nerves continue to fire off despite the lack of stimulation, your knees continue to wobble dangerously for a moment before your body collapses in on itself. Knees striking the floor roughly, you have to straighten your back to keep the pressure off your neck and hands as you reclaim control of your body.

A click of unlocking metal lets you know that you are no longer secured in place but before you can make any effort to move, gentle hands release the ring gag which was still stretching your mouth open. Snapping your jaw shut in appreciation as you move the muscles there, you glance at him with a thankful look as he disappears to your side, just out of eyesight.

Gasping in surprise as his hands come to rest on your hips, the metal stock unlatches and opens at his command and you find yourself quickly swept up into his arms. The physicality of the act draws an appreciative hum from your throat as you curl in towards his chest instinctively; the small pendants and dog tags which he wore as part of his usual outfit brushing against your bare chest as his welcomed warmth envelops you.

“I can walk.” You bite out in a low mutter, having no intention of doing so but unwilling to admit the weakness, “Put me down.”

“No,” the refusal is simple and his grip tightens around you as he takes you in the direction of the bathroom, his earlier promise ringing in your ears, “I want every inch of you scrubbed to wash off the stink of the machine.”

Even through the teasing tone, you can hear just the faintest hint of jealousy peeking through and it makes you smirk.

“Can we keep it?” You ask in a tired voice, slipping your hand in the crease of his shirt and rubbing against the hair of his chest seductively, “I wouldn’t mind having a spare in the bedroom for when the Lord of this factory is too busy to meet my needs.”

Tilting his head down, he catches the mischievous glint in your eye and a rumble emits from his chest.

“Be careful what you wish for, kitten,” He mutters, kicking the door of the bathroom open with ease, “because you know I like to make a fucking point. Especially when it comes to my favourite toy and her insatiable needs.”

[corysmiles]

Sup! I'm back from Barcelona! Hope you're doing well!

Remember that sbi rust prompt you gave me a month or 2 ago? It is done (not readproff tho so there may be some mistakes) anyway enjoy my grand return!

Edit: did you know 250 paragraphs is the limit lenght to an ask? On an unrelated note I will have to cut this into multiple parts so enjoy this first chapter!

-----

"Whaaat the-"

Wilbur took a step back, mouth agape and watched the figure inside of the dome. A human, identical in the looks, if not for the size of it.

When he went to explore the looming monument that rose from near his house, he expected food or scientific papers, perhaps some gas masks and equipment, not a... giant.

Weren't those things a myth?? Just a silly fictional creature to scare children away, not... not real and THERE, sleeping right in front of him??

The thing was curled up on himself, unable to fit in the 30ft wide sphere if going to its full lenght.

Wilbur was trapped in the walls of flesh.

And to his dismay, he was just in time to witness the creature wake up.

Lazily, they opened their eyes, squinting. They looked at their surroundings, the roof, the walls, the floor.

And the man was able to pinpoint the exact moment their eyes landed on him.

They gasped softly, almost mute. Their eyes widened, and they stood here, studying the punny intrudor for a too long moment. Only after, they spoke, barely above a whisper.

"Uhm... hello."

Wilbur expected the giant to speak, seeing how akin to a human he was, but he didn't expect such a young voice to be held by the.... boy?

"Hey." Wilbur waved, hand as shaking and hesitant as his voice.

"... What's your name?" They spoke.

Wilbur gulped, more on instinct. "Uuh, Wilbur. Who are you? What are you doing here?" He pointed.

They nodded in a hum before looking at the floor below, eyes a bit blurry.

"I...my name is Tommy. And uh... this is where I sleep."

The stare the human kept on the boy was intense, full of disbelief and curiosity. It was uncomfortable.

He shifted a bit. And Wilbur's eyes darted towards the small movements. Ah, right. Humans were hyperaware.

"It's been a while since I met someone around here."

"Yeah, I can imagine that... ever since the nuclear incident, it's been quite the task to find someone." Wilbur explained. What did this being knew exactly?

"Oh... I see." He lowered his head, before letting it rest on the floor, and holy shit he was even bigger than he thought.

He swallowed the lump back down his throat, and sat legs crossed.

The giant, which looked like a teenager now that he got to see his face up close, kept looking at him, expression almost bored.

Then, without much a warning, he lifted his hand and moved it towards the human, who instantly scrumbled away as fast as he could.

"wowowwoowowo- what-"

The hand froze, and when he looked at Tommy, the expression was sad, almost hurt.

Silence filled the room for a minute.

"Sorry" the giant apologized. "I must be quite scary, huh?"

Without much thinking, wilbur nodded. "Um, yeah"

"It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you." He reassured, his voice pathetic. "Can I come closer?"

Wilbur looked at the hand, then at the teen. He took a deep breath before nodding, earning a pleased smile from the blond.

More careful, a hand thrice his size came to him, fingers slowly wrapping themselves around the human. He tensed, unwilling to move an inch despite his mind begging him to get out of here.

He closed his eyes in anticipation, but after a minute of stillness, he felt a rough pressure on his head, ruffling his hairs.

"Wha- what are you doing?" He asked, refusing to open his eyes yet.

Before he got an answer, the mass, which he recognized as a thumb, moved from playing with the hair to caress his skin as gently as possible.

With much hesitation, the human opened his eyes and met the face of the teen, who beared an expression of pure shock and wonder.

As the thumb rubbed against his cheek, he inhaled, shivered.

"You're so small... so fragile..."

His face was washed with a wave of sadness, while Wilbur drew his hand closer to the gun hidden in his jacket.

"How do you feel, wilbur? Do you feel fragile?" His voice was as sad as unreadable.

And at the moment, Wilbur did feel as powerless as a bug stuck in a web. A tall, wide web. Not that he would tell Tommy.

"... Is that a threat?" He asked instead.

"No, I'm just curious." A sort of melancholy couldn't leave the giant's face. "If I were to threaten someone, it would be because they acted like a bitch. You're not a bitch as far as I know."

The curse took Wilbur off guard, and he found himself giggling at the vocabulary. The blong smiled as well.

Then, the thumb moved from the face and slowly descended to cover his chest (entirely)

And....

It felt... like a hug?

How long has it been since Wilbur has been hugged.

The gesture was confusing.

"... why?" He voiced.

"I don't know. I know people like hugs. Makes them feel safe."

He eyed the fingers around him before focusing, wary, on the face.

"What are you planning to do to me?"

"Huh?!" He raised eyebrow and his hands left Wilbur's surrounding in a too quick motion, gesturing in defense. "Nothing!! I just want you to be comfortable. Been a while since I talked to anyone." Without the giant controling his volume, Wilbur had to cover his ear at the sudden booming sound.

He nodded nontheless, still unsure, and the silence drawn out.

"...why did you want to explore the dome?"

For some reason, the echoing voice was quite soothing to the human's ears, now that it was bearable. He took a few steps and put his hand on the part of the dome not blocked by an enormous mass. His finger carressed the copper walls until he was sat.

"I wanted to explore. I don't live very far, and this structure intrigued me. I expected to find some researches, not.... uh..."

Tommy smiled and understood the man without him having to finish. "Yeah. I'm not really something to be expected."

He nodded. "And you've been here for a while?"

"Not so much." The giant responded, "I usually travel from place to place trying to survive, pretty much like everyone else."

"I see..."

"I can try and look out for any paper or stuff if you want, so next time you come, I can hand them over."

Wilbur paused. The idea of returning to the giant made him frown, but the blond did seem to hold no grudges against him.

".... Maybe." He landed on.

And visibly, the teen was elated at the news, his grin growing to his ear and his hands joining in a clap. (As gentle as he could to not make the small man deaf.)

"Welp." He got up, before he got a sugar overdose from seeing that excitment. "I think I'm gonna head back."

"Do you want me to help you get back home?" The other proposed, enthusiast.

"No."

It was quiet for a moment, silence only disturbed by the giant shifting position. It was... unusual. But the enormous teen didn't seem hostile, and if Wilbur could get himself such an ally, he wouldn't take it down.

And so he returned home.

---

2 days later, he returned.

He was surprised as well, but curiosity guided his steps much more than his fears ever since the giant teen revealed himself a potential ally.

He inhaled deeply before climbing the stairs, his feet landing on the metalic ground.

The smile on the teenager's face when he turned around and met the tiny man was as heartwarming as nervewracking.

"YOU'RE BACK!!!" He cheered, and already the human had to cover his ears, the joyous scream deafening. He realized his mistake pretty soon though as he covered his mouth and mumbled, much quieter "Sorry. Hi Wilbur."

"Hello, Tommy." He replied, cautiously removing his hands from his ear. "How have you been?" He started. Usual politeness shouldn't be too awkward.

It took all the self control of the blond to keep his voice quiet enough when he said "I've been fine, thank you." The energy bubbling from him only made Wilbur chuckle.

"Good, good." Wilbur took a few steps towards the blond (or rather his face, since the teen was kind of all around the room) "You seem happy to see me."

Tommy nodded way too quickly and strongly as he confirmed. "Yep! I-" he pained keeping his voice low "-I wasn't sure if you'd really come back. I'm very very very glad you didn't lie. Especially since I have..... THIS!!"

He didn't even bother whispering as his hand came to view, previously hidden behind his back, and coming towards Wilbur in a fist at a racing pace. The brunette couldn't help but flinch back.

Tommy stopped mid-way, realizing his carelessness once more. He whispered an apology and the hand came, much slower this time. (Almost comically slow, but Wilbur wouldn't really complain)

Then, when only at about 6ft away from the man, the hand opened, revealing several piles of papers.

Wilbur's eyes widened. He looked at the blond, confused.

"You said you wanted to look for researches and stuff, sooo I tried finding some. And you were right! There are papers everywhere in here!"

Wilbur looked at the floor which he now realized was almost white from sheets, as well as the several seemingly blank pages stuck on the giant's body, and nodded, repressing a chuckle.

"Yep. Everywhere."

Tommy held back a laugh as well, and Wilbur tried visualizing how this.... god knows how tall being could try opening drawers with his nails barely thin enough to hold the handler, and reading papers the size of a pins on his hands, all while trying to manœuver his body so he wasn't blocking the rest of the building.

He would lie if he said the thought wasn't amusing.

He went for the paper, and without much thinking hopped onto the hand, since the papers were mostly at the center of his palm.

He grabbed a few and sat down, begining reading when he felt a shaky inhale. He looked up to meet the amused eyes of the blond.

"... Seat's comfortable?" He teased, as playful as baffled.

Wilbur frowned, then looked below him and his eyes widened as he registered. He shot straight up.

"Oh-oh oh I'm so sorry- I- I sincerely apologize I-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as he covered his ears, a wheezed laugh echoing through the entire thing and sending Wilbur shaking from the vibrations.

He found himself laughing as well, barely able to keep up his balance as he stepped out of the hand, a good chunk of paper held between his chest and arms.

The laughs finally died down, the blond disforming his face with his hand trying hard to muffle the sounds. He looked back at the human with what could only be described as adoration. The hand left his face and he chuckled still as he talked.

"Ahh, don't worry about it. I expected you to just take the papers and go, but this? This was funny. Definitely the first time someone sits on my hand like that."

"I-... is it a bad thing?" Wilbur asked, taking slow steps backward while he kept a smile. The last thing he wanted was to upset a giant he was trapped with. Sure, the kid was nice, even though overwhelming, but a wrong gesture could change that first part pretty quickly.

"Nah, I don't mind. If the floor is too cold for your liking, you can sit here."

Wilbur sighed in relief and gave the blond a smile. "Alright. Thanks."

He still chose to sat on the floor, and started reading again. His intuition was right, there was tons of information in here.

He read in silence, only disturbed every once in a while when Tommy asked what was in the sheets. Wilbur explained as easily as possible and kept the details for himself. Tommy was satisfied with the answer he was given, though, so that wasn't a problem.

He was only a quarter through the first pile of paper when he felt something approaching. He froze when a mass, probably a finger, found itself on top of Wilbur's head.

There was a beat of silence when neither moved, and the finger ruffled ever so slightly his hair.

It was a bit awkward, but it wasn't uncomfortable, so he didn't protest.

A soft voice pierced through the silence.

"If I press on your head too hard or hurt you, warn me. You're small so I don't know how much pressure I can apply on you."

"Alright." Wilbur nodded. "You're doing fine right now, I'll tell you if that changes."

The rest of the reading was done with Tommy gently playing with Wilbur's hair or tapping his back in an attempt at a 'massage' (as Tommy called it). It was distracting, but not uncomfortable. At times, even soothing.

It was almost night when Wilbur read most of the first pile. He got up with the paper he read already and looked for an empty drawer.

Fortunately, since Tommy spent 2 days scrambling to get every possible paper out, it wasn't much of a challenge. Below Tommy's angled leg was a furniture. He went and deposited it.

"That should be good." He said as he closed it. He then turned around to meet the blond. "Well, I think it's time for me to go home. I'll be back soon though, this place is VERY interesting."

He forced himself not to fake a gag at Tommy's smile. Urg. So genuine.

"Yeaaayyy" the giant stage-whispered while clapping his hands as softly and quickly as possible. "It's nice having you around. Can I do anything to help you?"

Wilbur brought a hand to his chin and thought for a moment. "If you find an empty book, you can give it to me next time. I'll bring one myself though so you don't have to tear this place upside down to find one." That made Tommy chuckle.

And so, Wilbur returned home once more.

THIS IS SO GOOD MEL OMG!!!

Pls read this it’s amazing and so well done, I love the rust server and this is so good :D

[bookishofalder]

Unexpected [Prequel]

Summary: The night everything began.

Warnings: Language, Smut, sweet Spencer Reid (we know we need a warning for this). WC: 2,434

“Goodnight, Tesoro! Kid! Addio!” Rossi sang happily, leaning ever so slightly against the stoic as usual Hotch, who rolled his eyes at the BAU’s patriarch. He did grin though, which Spencer appreciated considering he was the only one at the party not to indulge in the multitude of mixed beverages you and Penelope had concocted. A rare smile from Hotch was certainly a good way to ring in the New Year, especially when it resulted in your sweet laughter before you closed and locked the door.

You sighed and Spencer glanced down at you, a smile pulling at his lips when he took in your tired, soft expression. It was probably the alcohol he’d enjoyed throughout the evening-seriously, why did he have so many margaritas? And what was in those peppermint drinks? They didn’t taste of alcohol! But a wave of affection for you so strong swept through him and Spencer didn’t think before pulling you close, his arms circling your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Your hair smelled like roses.

You hummed happily in response, stepping into the embrace, relaxing against Spencer. “You know, I think it’s customary to kiss someone when you ring in the New Year, (Y/N),” He heard himself say, his eyes on a picture on the wall behind you. It was a favourite of his from when he’d taken you to the Santa Monica Pier after closing up a case in California. Spencer and you, arms around each other's shoulders as you stood on the beach with the Pier in the background. Spencer was stooped because he was so much taller than you, and you were laughing widely when the photo had been taken, golden sun kissing your features.

You leaned your head back to meet his gaze, your eyes glassy and wide. Giggling, you replied, “I always thought that was silly, meant for couples to just show off how happily domestic they are!” You rolled your eyes, but you hadn’t moved out of his arms. And actually, Spencer didn’t want you to, he liked how close you were, how safe and right it felt to hold you.

He cleared his throat, his voice deep despite the cringe-level response he came up with, “It can be...friends, who care deeply, too.” Christ.

Oh, but you didn’t cringe, or laugh, or pull away and affectionately ruffle his hair as he might normally expect. No, your response was anything but expected for Spencer, his words seemingly taking a moment to sink in and, still holding his gaze but with a much more intense one of your own, you wet your lips. He didn’t even hesitate, your subconscious response all it took for it to feel almost painful that he wasn’t already kissing you.

So he tightened his hold on you at the same time he dropped his head and captured your lips with his own. And as much as he must have caught you off guard, you weren’t done surprising Spencer; you moaned and parted your lips for him, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. He felt your arms secure around his neck, your body arching into him as you pulled him closer, your bodies responding to one another with equal fervour.

With a groan of pleasure from the sensation and bliss that was you pressed against him, Spencer broke the kiss to trail gentle kisses along your jaw, his voice just a breath. “Sweet girl, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He trailed down your neck, delighting in the sound of your whimpers, at the feel of you, his best friend, trembling with need and desire in the familiar front hallway of your apartment. It had been just so easy to cross that line that seemed to always cut between you both.

You tugged him suddenly, backing up and taking Spencer with you to your living room and your cozy couch. When your legs hit the edge, you stumbled slightly and giggled when Spencer clumsily steadied you. Breathless, you started eagerly working to undress him, your hands working to unbutton his shirt as your eyes burned into his with unbridled lust and desire, the longing so intense he was sure he’d burst into flame under your gaze. Spencer didn’t delay when you guided his hands to remove his pants, shoving them and his underwear down quickly and then dropping to sit on your couch.

He tried to pull you with him, but you gave him a coy smile, leaning out of his grasp. “You’re gorgeous, you know that Spencer? Fucking gorgeous.” You breathed, your eyes raking over his bare, lean body, fixing hungrily on his hard, weeping cock. Wordlessly, as Spencer gazed at you in reverence, you reached behind you and unzipped the back of your low-backed dress, which promptly fell to your feet. Your hands were shaking.

The fire within Spencer seemed to take a new hold over him when he realized that you were nervous. His heart swelled and stuttered at the intensity of his desire to care for you, to make you feel as safe as possible.

“Come here, sweet girl,” He reached out for you, helping to settle you into his lap, your matching underwear and bra still on. When your core rubbed over Spencer’s length you both hissed at the sensation; he pressed his large hands into your back, fingers splayed, and captured your lips again. He could feel himself coming undone as you quivered in his arms. He ground his hips into you, groaning, “Fuck, can I touch you?”

“Please Spence,” You whimpered, and he realized your hips were returning his urgency, seeking friction desperately. “N-Need you, please. I need you so much, Spence.”

Fuck, you didn’t have to tell him twice. With surprising ease and prowess considering how intoxicated he knew he was, Spencer dropped one hand to first trail his fingers teasingly across the outside of your cotton underwear, before he pushed the fabric aside and ran two fingers through your folds. Spencer grunted at how wet you were already, “You have me, you’ve always had me, sweet girl. Come on, touch me,” He urged you, groaning sinfully loud when you reached around to grip him, held his cock steady and sunk yourself onto him.

“Oh, shit, Spence,” You cried out, face tightening as you struggled to accommodate him, “Fuck you’re so much bigger than I ever imagined...filling me so well,” You gasped, more broken moans spilling from your lips, mixed with his name. Spencer took hold of your hips, helping you steadily take more and more of him, groaning in pleasure at the feel of your tightness enveloping his cock.

He had never seen anything in his entire life as beautiful as you.

It hurt him, your beauty hurt Spencer it was so raw and he couldn’t bring himself to look away from your face, as much as he wanted to see you taking his length. He just couldn’t tear his eyes away from your blissed-out expression, the way you tried to open your eyes and meet his gaze only for them to snap shut again as you took another inch of him. Spencer was hooked, obsessed, so much further fucking gone than he had been before when he was just a sad soul in love with his best friend.

Now he was a man on fire. And he never wanted to stop burning.

When you were fully seated in his lap, Spencer pressed one hand to your lower back and brushed the other over your face, pushing back some stray locks of your hair, “You’re doing so well, (y/n), take your time. Fuck, you feel so good,” He grunted when you clenched around him in response.

Interesting, he thought. It was almost as if his praise was...

Spencer tested out his theory immediately, “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” Clench. More wetness. A soft sigh spills from your lips. Fuck.

And just like that, Spencer lost it. Realizing that his praise, his assurances, turned you on more? That was a power, a level of mutual trust he never expected in his wildest dreams. With a gasp, his grip on your hips hardened and he started thrusting up, effectively forcing you to bounce over his length. Yet, you took it in stride, your hands instantly seeking his shoulders for support before you were rolling your hips almost lazily each time you landed back in his lap.

Neither of you was moaning any longer, no. Spencer was talking around his pleasured cries, pulling as much bliss from you as possible by keeping up a constant stream of praise and kind words that he meant, right down to his soul he fucking meant every word. And you...you were a goddess, his name on your lips between screams and gasps, nails digging into his shoulders from how hard you gripped him. It was funny-as much as you couldn’t keep your eyes open, Spencer was unable to do more than blink, unable to tear his gaze from your face.

To spend so long painfully in love with you, hiding the depths of his feelings for years, pushing back any hope that might have cropped up that you felt the same, had been torture. Torture he happily bathed in, day after day but now you were actually in his arms, whimpering his name. It was a gift, a treasure he couldn’t believe he deserved, and he wasn’t going to miss a moment of flawless, captivating you coming apart for him.

“Sweet girl, you are so beautiful,” Spencer moaned out, cursing when your velvet heat squeezed him impossibly tighter.

He adjusted his hips, tilting just so to perfect the angle. The most delicious sounds fell from you as he found the right spot, and that was when it happened. You managed to open your eyes, wide and bright, meeting Spencer’s and gasping at the expression on his face. At that moment, you sent one another toppling over the edge and falling into oblivion.

It was a paradise Spencer had never know the likes of. The universe opened up for you both, and he wondered how he could have spent his entire life deprived of such exquisiteness, the pleasure and love swelling and consuming him-fuck, was this Nirvana? Heaven? He didn’t know, couldn’t think straight as he roared, his movement stilling as your hands slipped into his hair and you started to crumble into him. He caught you, steadying you enough that he could keep watching your face as you broke into a million pieces, as you both shattered into millions and millions of pieces.

“Spencer! Oh! Ooooh...”

“(y/n), I love you, I love you.”

His eyes had snapped shut briefly from the overwhelming sensations, his orgasm overtaking him before he could check to see if you’d heard his quiet confession. He couldn’t bring himself to worry over it when he began to spill inside of you, holding you tight against him, his entire body jerking in bliss. It was easily the longest orgasm of his life, dragged out by the way you whimpered and clenched him as you were swept through your own.

It could have been minutes or months, truly Spencer couldn’t have quantified the time it took until he was slumping into the couch cushions and you were boneless in his arms, your face nuzzling into his neck. Still hard inside you, he could feel some of the overflows of your climaxes spill out and drip down his thigh.

You were gasping for air, trembling lightly as his hands came to hold your head and he finally closed his eyes properly. Colours, a never-ending rainbow of colours dancing behind his eyelids, the galaxy within his grasp with you in his arms. Nothing else mattered-it was only you.

Everything was you. You were everything.

Realizations of the depths of his love for you hit Spencer like meteors; he felt as though he’d never stand again from the weight of it all, his heart impossibly heavy in his chest. How could he ever be worthy of the trust and care you had just bestowed upon him? He simply could not be deserving of such a divine, world-shattering experience. Not with you, his funny, bright, deeply caring best friend. Not with the woman who had been with Spencer through the worst, had seen the darkest parts of him, it didn’t seem right. It must be a mistake, a fluke, and yet...

It wasn’t. You told him as much when you finally found the strength to lean back slightly and press your lips to his, cutting off his train of thought by thanking him, telling him it had been better than you ever dreamed, that you had never felt for anyone like you did for Spencer. As if he weren’t already completely obliterated, your admission now rocketed Spencer into orbit and he knew, he just knew there was no way he’d ever forget this moment.

He’d been on your couch many times before this, you cuddled in his arms, and yet it felt like the very first time. Here in the dark, early morning hours of the first day of the year, it was the beginning of something, of an adventure he couldn’t understand and yet wholeheartedly knew he was ready to leap headfirst toward, as long as it was with you.

With renewed energy, Spencer stood, gathering you in his arms and carrying you to your bedroom as he kissed your lips languidly, eager to continue dancing amongst the stars with you, for as long as you would allow. And as he lay you down on your bed, drinking in the expression of love on your face, he knew there could be no way he would ever lose these memories. He stripped you of your underwear and spread you, keenly aware of the level of trust and anticipation you held for him. Spencer knew he could never forget, happily spending the next several hours worshipping your body like a starving man with his lips, his tongue, his gentle teeth.

Some of the memories may slip away, but surely not even alcohol could steal the way you repeated that you loved him as he plumbed your sweetest depth. As he brought you to your peak, over and over. As he brought your bodies together again and you travelled the galaxy in one another’s arms even as the sky outside began to brighten and then, eventually, sleep lulled you both to its warm embrace.

No, there was simply no way he would forget. Spencer could never, ever forget.

Right?

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

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