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emmalouisefanfiction · 7 months

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My contribution to the @sasodeiweek event.

Prompt: Obsession/Possession.

Summary: His final art was supposed to be it. Deidara's name would be lit up for all history to admire. It was just his luck that Sasori had other plans.

AO3 Tags: Post-CanonPost-War, Established Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Unequal partnership, Power Imbalance, Sasori's a bit of a dick, Puppets, Non-Consensual Touching, Somnophilia, Sasori has no understanding of personal space.

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He was dead. He’d died. He had blown himself up. But suddenly, Deidara wasn’t so sure about that. If this was the realm of the dead then he was hallucinating.

Am I alive? Again?

His body stiffened. His legs felt like they were fused together. But his arm burned as though someone had tried to blow him up. He smiled at that. At least, he tried to smile. His mouth wouldn’t twist and his face was rigid. And all of a sudden he became aware of his predicament.

Stuck. Stiff. Frozen in place. Unfeeling.

His eyes wouldn’t open but his ears detected movement nearby. The sound of shuffling feet. Metal instruments clanging ever so softly against each other. He couldn’t feel anything but his imagination told him the air was stuffy and filled with the smell of concoctions. Perhaps it was just his paranoia.

Fear trickled through him at the sound of hurried footsteps. He braced himself for an attack, as much as he could as he wasn’t physically capable of it. But no, this would not do. He hadn’t truly feared anything for a long time. And the Uchiha brothers didn’t count. They were abominations.

He waited. And waited. But no cold steel sliced at him. There were no surges of chakra. Nothing. Nothing that he could feel or sense. It was annoying. And strange. He tried to focus on his breathing but it didn’t come. Even stranger.

Feeling emboldened, he tried to cry out, to make some noise to attract attention to his conscious state. Surely the someone nearby meant him no harm. They could help. Though he was loath to do it. Since when did Deidara, the magnificent explosives expert with perfect hair and the greatest art the world has ever seen, needed anything? From anyone? People were just test subjects for his art.

Still, his efforts were in vain. Which was just as well, because he’d never live down the shame of pleading for help. But what to do?

An abrupt clunking sound echoed in the room. He presumed he was in a room, but he could be outdoors for all he knew. If he wasn’t so cut off from everything, he might have jumped, startled. The drip, drop of liquids, like water falling from the ceiling. Or blood.

He still couldn’t smile.

And quite suddenly, his eyes began to move, wiggling under their lids like a bird about to hatch.

“No, too soon.” The husky voice was soft and coaxing; a warm breath on his ear now that he could finally feel it. “Relax. Go back to sleep.”

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Sensations.

Several of them.

The first was a tingly feeling. Like he had skin and pores and goosebumps but they didn’t work quite right. Deidara scoffed.

The second was the soft stroke of something hard against him. Not a kunai but not skin. Something pliable like his clay but with a mind of its own.

Sasori’s puppet hand? He tried to smirk. Or something more salacious? He wouldn’t be opposed to it. But Deidara preferred to be a participant, not some doll that sat there and waited to be touched. This was… unacceptable.

The third sensation was akin to fear. More like helplessness. And a bit of anger.

But he couldn’t stop it. The touching. The feelings.

It started along his chest, soft and cautious. If he still had fine hairs there they would probably be standing on end. There was no warmth. Or cold. Just touch against touch. These probing strokes continued; the shape of the palm of a hand splayed out on his torso. A humming sound. Like his attacker was debating something.

Sasori.

More than the logical presumption of his partner’s puppet body, Deidara had heard his voice. He would know the sounds of the redhead anywhere.

But what is he doing, yeah?

He waited. It made him tremble in anticipation. His partner. His former lover. What was he doing with Deidara’s prone body? What was he… ugh. Okay, when he got his autonomy back, Sasori was going to die. Again.

His partner’s hand was now moving downwards. It was joined by his other hand and soft caresses trickled along his torso before gripping his hips. Almost like Sasori used to do back when he had a cock. When Deidara had a cock. And speaking of cocks.

Warmth. Fuck. Warmth. No, heat. Gripping and stroking. Kami. Please, fuck!

Deidara couldn’t moan or whine like he wanted but the tautness of his body stretched him; phantom pleasure from a time long ago. He remembered what those hands were capable of. Stroking his dick. Did he even have a dick? It sure felt like it. This was too familiar.

And then suddenly, all those sensations vanished. They left behind a cold breeze. Bereft of a lover’s touch.

Sasori’s voice was husky, like he’d run that marathon with him. “Good. You’re getting there.”

The darkness consumed him once more.

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What is that odd feeling?

His eyes were still clamped shut but now he could move his fingers and toes. It was little comfort. Coming out of the haze was different. The transition was easier this time.

This time it felt like Sasori was merely massaging him. Breathing life into his limbs. Getting his circulation pumping. It was clinical. Not arousing at all. Except for the fact that it was. Fingers probed his calves, quick and deft. They moved to his toes and the sensation of control spread throughout his leg.

“Yes,” Sasori said. It came from the darkness of Deidara’s perception but it held so much hope. “Right there.”

If he wasn’t trying to be sexual, he was failing. Husky. He moaned. Then stopped suddenly, startled by the sound of his own voice.

“Does that feel good?”

Deidara couldn’t speak of course but he felt his body react. His throat hummed. Sasori’s hand found his cock again, like before. The massage was no different than before barring the eroticism had grown to a higher level. And his balls were squeezed and fondled.

“Progress.”

How the fuck was Sasori manhandling his dick (he presumed it was his dick) progress ? And progress to what exactly?

“You will soon feel it all.”

Huh?

It wasn’t a question.

“Did you forget we used to do that all the time.”

Sasori’s voice was light-hearted now. Almost as carefree as the boy he’d once been.

Deidara moaned again. The blissfulness of his memory of an orgasm knocking him out cold.

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This time Deidara couldn’t move at all. Like all the progress Sasori had talked about had disappeared. Vanished. Much like his own tarnished soul.

This has to be the realm of the dead. But not a hallucination.

Sasori was talking nearby. Clanking and dripping sounds. In all the somnophilia, Deidara had forgotten his background. But now it is more pronounced than ever. He had to be in a lab. One of Sasori’s laboratories. Maybe the very one he’d used to turn himself into a puppet in the first place.

Wait.

What was the fucker doing ?

Wait.

The last time he came back to life it was in another body. He’d felt invincible. It had been the perfect opportunity to test his Suicide Bomb Jutsu. The one that had failed to kill Sasuke. The bastard.

Wait.

Yeah, Sasori had come back too. But the baka had also willingly “let go” or whatever that stupid disappearing act of his was. The jerk! But did this mean he hadn’t really gone? Or were they both brought back by Madara again? This was so confusing.

“Your memories are incomplete.”

Sasori’s breath was on his face and Deidara could feel the moist warmth. But no smell.

Huh? Yeah? Well your dick is incomplete, senpai!

“They need to be retrieved.”

Deidara mentally rolled his eyes as Sasori’s hands were on him again. But only for a moment this time. They abruptly pulled away.

“One last time.”

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“You’re complete now. Wake up.”

Blue eyes opened slowly. More tentatively than before. Once the ceiling came into focus, he blinked quickly a few times then scrunched his eyes together tightly. Almost like it really was a hallucination. Dimly aware of his own body, he groaned and tried to roll over. Sasori’s hands were on him again, this time helping him to move. To sit on the side of the bed, his legs over the edge.

“What the fuck?” His own voice was hoarse.

“You are alive again.”

Deidara blinked again. The greyish brown eyes of his partner were more alive than he’d ever seen them. But he still retained that cool aloofness that Deidara had always tried to imitate. A concerned expression sent the room spinning and the blond gripped Sasori tightly. He wasn’t ready for this.

“When I said you were stuck with me as a partner, this wasn’t what I meant, un.”

Sasori didn’t shrug his shoulders or sigh in exasperation. In fact, Deidara was only beginning to realise just how non-expressive his Akatsuki partner really was.

“What did you do, un?”

“I revived you.”

“How?”

“I’ll explain the details later. But suffice it to say, I had a back-up plan.”

Deidara grunted. “Yeah, sure.”

His partner didn’t take the bait.

“Fine,” he said. “I accept it. But why am I here?”

He knew the answer. Memories of Sasori’s hands on his cock were proof enough. They had been together for a while before Sasori’s “death” at the hands of his grandmother and that underaged pink-haired tween. It hadn’t gone very far and there was no love lost between them. So if Sasori had revived Deidara now, for the same reason he’d struck up their relationship then, then…

“Is this like a sex thing or something, un?”

“Or something.”

Deidara raised an eyebrow at him.

The corner of Sasori’s lips quirked upward slightly.

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#SasoDei #sasori x deidara #sasodeiweek2024 #sasodeiweek #mine #fanfiction #ao3 #not really all that safe for work #but that's fanfiction for you

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