#he’d be the type to have one hand roughly securely wrapped in your hair while the other diligently glides down the arch of your spine 🫠😩😵‍💫😵

[mrsoharaa]

Heavily making out with an intent, greedy Barou on your shared couch (with him laid out comfortably beneath you) and he just gets soo into it, so reeled by the sweet lingering taste of your essence on his tongue, that he grabs you by the back of your neck to deepen the heated, breathy intoxicating exchange of entangled tongues and shorten breaths. Heftily grumbles out steep vibrating growls against your slick sweetness, thick fingers entangling and weaving deep into your scalp, pushing you further and further. ♡

[alnighthing]

Chris Cornell a-z (sfw!)

(Mostly gn reader, but reader is referred to as “girl” once on letter ‘R’)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Chris is not big on PDA. The most he’ll probably do is a kiss around friends. However, that doesn’t mean that he’s not affectionate. Quite the opposite, actually. When you’re in private he’s the sweetest person, always pressing a kiss to your cheek, shoulder or lips when he passes you, and never passing up hugs. He always smells good, and you love burying your face into his shoulder with his arms wrapped securely around you, his curls fanning out around your neck and shoulders if he has long hair. Speaking of, he loves it when you play with his hair, whether that be with his head in your lap and you running your hands over the scratchiness of his shorter hair, or you braiding his long strands together in elaborate patterns you just learned.

And makeout sessions with him can get heated at home. It almost always starts with more innocent, fleeting kisses, but the other party’d pull them back in, and it would end up with one of your backs against the nearest surface, you tugging on his hair as his lips fold roughly over yours.

That is, if you’re willing. He doesn’t ever want to push you.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) As a best friend, he’d be pretty chill. I’d say he’d be the type of friend where if you don’t initiate something you may not see each other for a while, but any time you are together conversation always flows perfectly and it’s never awkward. He cares a lot, maybe more than he does about himself, so you guys are great at validating and paying attention to each other.

C = Comfort (How do they comfort you?) He knows from personal experience that often times people need space. He lets you have your own time especially to cool down, but if he sees you crying he can break and rush to your side. He’s not soul-baring or overly gentle a lot, but if that’s what you need he’ll try to give it to you. Especially if your unhappiness is caused by him. He’s a bit stubborn and will also need his own time to slow down and contemplate, cool down from the heated emotions, but eventually he’ll come to you if you don’t come to him.

His ultimate, most important goal is to respect your boundaries, so he clarifies first that you’re comfortable, and then wraps you up in the warmest hug, and apologies are wordlessly exchanged. Of course, you’ll work through it later, but for now it’s enough to know he’s there and will always be there for you.

D = Date (how was your first date? What are dates with him like?)

You guys don’t really go on formal dates that often. Your first date was just going around Seattle, browsing through record stores and looking at small shops full of strange nicknacks. Most of the time it’s enough to be in the others’ presence. Your “dates” usually consist of him coming over, the two of you settling on the couch, and putting on a movie you rented. Occasionally he’d recommend something outside of your comfort zone, and you’d share your interests with each other, engaging in idle conversation while eating takeout and half-watching.

Eventually you’d somehow get closer, your head on his shoulder and his hand resting comfortingly on your knee or thigh. You’d look up at his face, illuminated slightly from the screen, admiring his facial features and everything that made him him. He’d catch you staring, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow, planting a cheeky kiss on your nose before returning to the movie.

Alternatively, he’d rest his head in your lap, half watching and half looking up at you. You’d mindlessly card your hand through his hair, and to him that would be one of the most soothing feelings in the world, with his s/o up close to him and simply enjoying each others’ presence. E = Emotion (Is it easy for them to express their emotions in front of you?)

He’s a pretty private person. It would take a while for him to get comfortable enough sharing all the inner workings of his brain with you, and feeling like you wouldn’t judge him. Even after crossing that threshold, he wouldn’t often share his own feelings without being prompted by you, so make sure you listen closely, judgement free, when he does! F = Feelings (How do they feel about commitment? When did they know they were in love with you?)

Chris likes the idea of being in a smooth, committed relationship, be he’s also scared of it. He fears he’ll get it wrong, or that he’ll mess it up somehow when things were going so well. He knew he was in love at one of Soundgarden’s earlier shows. He was performing onstage, mic in hand and shirt long lost, when he spotted you in the small crowd. You had been looking up at him with utter wonder. He could see the reflection of the lights in your eyes. He hadn’t known you were coming. You didn’t always come to their shows because you had your own responsibilities, but this time you had, and were looking up at him in a way that caused his cheeks to redden uncharacteristically. He was glad for his long flowing hair, especially as he noticed the way you moved to the music. His music.

At first he was terrified, and his voice faltered slightly in the song. He finished the show mostly out of muscle memory, but as he went offstage in the sweat and grime of the small venue and saw you standing right there with water and a fresh towel, the realization was exhilarating. He was in love with you. He flashed you a huge smile, downing the water in one gulp.

You were confused, until you went home with him and he explained just before giving you the most mind-blowing sex you’d ever had.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Chris can be gentle sometimes. He knows when that side’s what you need from him and is usually gentle while cuddling, but otherwise, what with his unfiltered dark humor and the rough way he kisses you, he’s not always. +

Gym (do they go to the gym? How built are they?)

People. Do I even have to talk about this. If you haven’t just go watch the Jesus Christ Pose music video. I think it changed my life. H = Hugs/Hands (Do they like hugs or holding hands? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Chris does like doing both, although he’ll hold hands more than hugging when in public.

His hugs are firm but safe and secure, holding you tight between his arms while his warmth just flows into you. At the same time he’ll kiss your temple and whisper something sweet just for you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It took him a while to face it and get over the subconscious fear, and even after being in an established relationship for a while he’s much better at showing it than he is at saying it. He’ll do small things for you like clean the dishes if you’ve had a bad day, even if it was your turn. He also won’t turn down cuddles, but when he feels like you need to hear it he’ll say it aloud.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Again, he likes to respect your boundaries like he would want you to respect his, so he really tries not to be overbearing or suspicious at all. Not to say that he doesn’t furrow his eyebrows when he feels like another man is getting a bit too close to you. Generally though he doesn’t like to confront you about it because he doesn’t want you to think he doubts you, but you can tell when he gets quiet and his gaze toward the guy becomes overly intense (we all know about his stare😭). You always manage to get the confession out of him though, and it almost always leads to at least a makeout session ;)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Typically he kisses rough, folding his lips over yours and moaning slightly when you tug on his hair. He’d push his tongue through your lips, and he’d love it if you were to also get bold with him, biting down slightly on his pouty bottom lip as he holds your face in his large hands. That said, he’ll do anything you want. Save for maybe drawing blood, because he doesn’t want to be the cause of your pain.

Other than on the lips, he likes to kiss you on the shoulder (if it’s exposed), and as a goodbye he’ll drop a kiss on your temple.

He also likes being kissed on the forehead, as much as it may be shocking. He won’t say it aloud, but he loves being treasured.

L = Little ones (How are they around children? Do they want any?)

Like being in love, the idea of having kids freaks him out at first. But give him some time to think on it, and he’ll be all for the idea. He makes a wonderful father, always checking in on his kids’ wellbeing, both physically and mentally.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Oddly enough, he doesn’t sleep in that often. Although, when he does, it’s a rare treat.

After spending a night together, mornings are his rare times of openness and not giving a fuck, that differing from the norm because he’ll be openly affectionate and the gentlest soul.

At first it catches you by surprise. After your first night staying over with him, waking up in the same bed the day after he admitted to being in love with you, he’s exhausted even with the sunlight pushing through the curtains and the sound of the phone ringing from downstairs. When you groan and try to step out of bed to answer it, he pulls you flush to his side in a rare display of possessiveness.

“C’mon, don’t get out yet.”

You’d never heard his morning voice before. It went deep and cracked in an endearing, intimate way, making you shiver slightly.

“Alright.”

You feel him smile as his head is buried back into the crook of your neck, hair splaying across your chest as he quite literally breathes you in.

“I love you. I love you I love you.”

You’re kind of shocked. Normal Chris doesn’t say things like that. But half-groggy Chris is not afraid to voice his mind, and you love it.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Chris is a night owl and nothing you say will convince me otherwise. You’d stay up for as long as you could, sitting on the couch with a movie playing and talking about arbitrary topics. It’s only when you let out a massive yawn that he cracks a fond smile, looking at you teasingly.

“Tired, huh?”

You just nod, yawning again.

His thigh is a comfortable pillow.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It would take him a while to trust you enough to talk at length about himself or his childhood. It’s nothing personally against you, he’s just a private person by nature. Things come slowly at first but once you know enough he’ll feel much more comfortable and at peace in your presence,

+

On Cloud Nine (how do they act when falling in love?)

Especially for the first few months, he acts very uncharacteristically giddy and open. The realization that he’s less scared to love you anymore makes him ecstatic on the inside and, trust me, even the unusual enthusiasm you see from him has been majorly toned down from what he actually feels so as not to overwhelm you.

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

Honestly, I can’t see him using that many pet names. He probably uses one based on your real name, or just a nickname in general.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything that you tell him to the best of his ability. He doesn’t have notes or anything, but he values the golden rule like it’s his bible, and tries to be as attentive to his partner’s wants, needs and preferences as much as possible, just as he wants you to do for him.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment was one night when you got drunk.

You were out at a bar with some friends, Chris not being there with you guys because he’d had a recording session that day. He was home already, though, by around 7 pm.

Meanwhile you were at the bar getting absolutely shitfaced. You had one friend who was a designated driver that night, but everyone else, including you, had taken shot after shot of their strongest stuff.

It was time for everyone to go home. But you weren’t having it.

“No. I’m not going home with YOU, only Chris!” You slurred to your poor, abrasively sober friend. 

“Please I’m not trying to take you out, I just want you to get home safely!” Your friend groaned in exasperation. This had been going on for a while.

“Well then prove it. G-get Chris to do it and I’ll believe you.” You hiccuped.

Your friend let out a loud moan of annoyance, “Stay right here. I’ll be back.”

Your friend walked out to the phone booth outside, calling a rather confused Chris.

“Chris, get your ass over here and get your girl. Y/n refuses to leave without you and she’s gonna black out if I let her stay for longer.”

“Wow. Uhm- be right there.”

A long ten minutes later, Chris appeared in front of the bar, a familiar stance with his hands stuck in the pockets of his dark jacket.

“Chris!” Your friend brought you out, practically supporting your entire body weight.

Chris had to withhold a smile at your situation. Alcoholism was bad, he reminded himself, but you looked oddly cute calling out to him like that. It would be hard to get you all the way back home though, he thought with a small sigh.

Later when the two of you got into a cab, you had your hands all over him (pun intended). He was trying not to smile as you pulled at his fingers and placed kiss after kiss on his chin and his lips, declaring your adoration for him even as he reminded you that the driver could probably hear everything you were saying.

It’s a good thing you can’t remember it beyond his accounts because he’ll never admit how soft he got that night.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s pretty protective of you. He’s seen some shit due to a lack of a person to guide him, so he tries to help you evaluate shady figures but ultimately lets you decide what to do yourself; again, the golden rule. That’s what he would want you to do for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Again, your relationship has more effort put into the emotional and support aspects, less on the performative side. You don’t go on elaborate dates. What matters is the thought.

U = UwU (would they act cute for you?)

intentionally, no, only when they’re sleepy or feel especially in need of emotional support.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn’t try too hard, but he always looks good anyways. He does take very good care of his hair though. (Seriously, what did he do for his hair care routine because I need to learn from it 😭)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. As soon as he lets himself admit his feelings for you, he doesn’t want you to go. There would probably be some rough patches in your relationship, or parts where you break up temporarily, but ultimately he cares about you probably too much for his own good.

X = X-ray (how does the relationship look like from an outside perspective compared to how it really is)

From the outside, it looks like the two of you are very independent from each other, with you being more dependent on him if at all. In reality, though, it’s almost the complete opposite. You just save your affection and doting for behind closed doors, and, if anything, he’s more emotionally dependent on you than you are for him.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Chris doesn’t like someone who pushes his boundaries. Most people would get uncomfortable, but him especially so. His s/o knowing his limits to him is the greatest sign of love and respect he could be given. This is also why he almost always wants your consent as well. He knows he would feel very violated when someone crosses his boundaries.

Respect his limits, and he’ll gradually grow closer and more affectionate on his own.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He barely gets enough sleep, sleeping incredibly late but still waking at around normal times. You find it odd how he can still function after weeks of this in a row, but then again he is tired a lot of the time.

A/N: thank you all for reading this! I actually had an amazing time writing this and please let me know if you want a-zs for anyone else :) Have a great day/night!

oh, and happy very belated pride month!

[september-has-come]

Chris Cornell a-z (sfw!)

(Mostly gn reader, but reader is referred to as “girl” once on letter ‘R’)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Chris is not big on PDA. The most he’ll probably do is a kiss around friends. However, that doesn’t mean that he’s not affectionate. Quite the opposite, actually. When you’re in private he’s the sweetest person, always pressing a kiss to your cheek, shoulder or lips when he passes you, and never passing up hugs. He always smells good, and you love burying your face into his shoulder with his arms wrapped securely around you, his curls fanning out around your neck and shoulders if he has long hair. Speaking of, he loves it when you play with his hair, whether that be with his head in your lap and you running your hands over the scratchiness of his shorter hair, or you braiding his long strands together in elaborate patterns you just learned.

And makeout sessions with him can get heated at home. It almost always starts with more innocent, fleeting kisses, but the other party’d pull them back in, and it would end up with one of your backs against the nearest surface, you tugging on his hair as his lips fold roughly over yours.

That is, if you’re willing. He doesn’t ever want to push you.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

As a best friend, he’d be pretty chill. I’d say he’d be the type of friend where if you don’t initiate something you may not see each other for a while, but any time you are together conversation always flows perfectly and it’s never awkward. He cares a lot, maybe more than he does about himself, so you guys are great at validating and paying attention to each other.

C = Comfort (How do they comfort you?)

He knows from personal experience that often times people need space. He lets you have your own time especially to cool down, but if he sees you crying he can break and rush to your side. He’s not soul-baring or overly gentle a lot, but if that’s what you need he’ll try to give it to you. Especially if your unhappiness is caused by him. He’s a bit stubborn and will also need his own time to slow down and contemplate, cool down from the heated emotions, but eventually he’ll come to you if you don’t come to him.

His ultimate, most important goal is to respect your boundaries, so he clarifies first that you’re comfortable, and then wraps you up in the warmest hug, and apologies are wordlessly exchanged. Of course, you’ll work through it later, but for now it’s enough to know he’s there and will always be there for you.

D = Date (how was your first date? What are dates with him like?)

You guys don’t really go on formal dates that often. Your first date was just going around Seattle, browsing through record stores and looking at small shops full of strange nicknacks. Most of the time it’s enough to be in the others’ presence. Your “dates” usually consist of him coming over, the two of you settling on the couch, and putting on a movie you rented. Occasionally he’d recommend something outside of your comfort zone, and you’d share your interests with each other, engaging in idle conversation while eating takeout and half-watching.

Eventually you’d somehow get closer, your head on his shoulder and his hand resting comfortingly on your knee or thigh. You’d look up at his face, illuminated slightly from the screen, admiring his facial features and everything that made him him. He’d catch you staring, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow, planting a cheeky kiss on your nose before returning to the movie.

Alternatively, he’d rest his head in your lap, half watching and half looking up at you. You’d mindlessly card your hand through his hair, and to him that would be one of the most soothing feelings in the world, with his s/o up close to him and simply enjoying each others’ presence.

E = Emotion (Is it easy for them to express their emotions in front of you?)

He’s a pretty private person. It would take a while for him to get comfortable enough sharing all the inner workings of his brain with you, and feeling like you wouldn’t judge him. Even after crossing that threshold, he wouldn’t often share his own feelings without being prompted by you, so make sure you listen closely, judgement free, when he does!

F = Feelings (How do they feel about commitment? When did they know they were in love with you?)

Chris likes the idea of being in a smooth, committed relationship, be he’s also scared of it. He fears he’ll get it wrong, or that he’ll mess it up somehow when things were going so well. He knew he was in love at one of Soundgarden’s earlier shows. He was performing onstage, mic in hand and shirt long lost, when he spotted you in the small crowd. You had been looking up at him with utter wonder. He could see the reflection of the lights in your eyes. He hadn’t known you were coming. You didn’t always come to their shows because you had your own responsibilities, but this time you had, and were looking up at him in a way that caused his cheeks to redden uncharacteristically. He was glad for his long flowing hair, especially as he noticed the way you moved to the music. His music.

At first he was terrified, and his voice faltered slightly in the song. He finished the show mostly out of muscle memory, but as he went offstage in the sweat and grime of the small venue and saw you standing right there with water and a fresh towel, the realization was exhilarating. He was in love with you. He flashed you a huge smile, downing the water in one gulp.

You were confused, until you went home with him and he explained just before giving you the most mind-blowing sex you’d ever had.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Chris can be gentle sometimes. He knows when that side’s what you need from him and is usually gentle while cuddling, but otherwise, what with his unfiltered dark humor and the rough way he kisses you, he’s not always. +

Gym (do they go to the gym? How built are they?)

People. Do I even have to talk about this. If you haven’t just go watch the Jesus Christ Pose music video. I think it changed my life.

H = Hugs/Hands (Do they like hugs or holding hands? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Chris does like doing both, although he’ll hold hands more than hugging when in public.

His hugs are firm but safe and secure, holding you tight between his arms while his warmth just flows into you. At the same time he’ll kiss your temple and whisper something sweet just for you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It took him a while to face it and get over the subconscious fear, and even after being in an established relationship for a while he’s much better at showing it than he is at saying it. He’ll do small things for you like clean the dishes if you’ve had a bad day, even if it was your turn. He also won’t turn down cuddles, but when he feels like you need to hear it he’ll say it aloud.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Again, he likes to respect your boundaries like he would want you to respect his, so he really tries not to be overbearing or suspicious at all. Not to say that he doesn’t furrow his eyebrows when he feels like another man is getting a bit too close to you. Generally though he doesn’t like to confront you about it because he doesn’t want you to think he doubts you, but you can tell when he gets quiet and his gaze toward the guy becomes overly intense (we all know about his stare😭). You always manage to get the confession out of him though, and it almost always leads to at least a makeout session ;)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Typically he kisses rough, folding his lips over yours and moaning slightly when you tug on his hair. He’d push his tongue through your lips, and he’d love it if you were to also get bold with him, biting down slightly on his pouty bottom lip as he holds your face in his large hands. That said, he’ll do anything you want. Save for maybe drawing blood, because he doesn’t want to be the cause of your pain.

Other than on the lips, he likes to kiss you on the shoulder (if it’s exposed), and as a goodbye he’ll drop a kiss on your temple.

He also likes being kissed on the forehead, as much as it may be shocking. He won’t say it aloud, but he loves being treasured.

L = Little ones (How are they around children? Do they want any?)

Like being in love, the idea of having kids freaks him out at first. But give him some time to think on it, and he’ll be all for the idea. He makes a wonderful father, always checking in on his kids’ wellbeing, both physically and mentally.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Oddly enough, he doesn’t sleep in that often. Although, when he does, it’s a rare treat.

After spending a night together, mornings are his rare times of openness and not giving a fuck, that differing from the norm because he’ll be openly affectionate and the gentlest soul.

At first it catches you by surprise. After your first night staying over with him, waking up in the same bed the day after he admitted to being in love with you, he’s exhausted even with the sunlight pushing through the curtains and the sound of the phone ringing from downstairs. When you groan and try to step out of bed to answer it, he pulls you flush to his side in a rare display of possessiveness.

“C’mon, don’t get out yet.”

You’d never heard his morning voice before. It went deep and cracked in an endearing, intimate way, making you shiver slightly.

“Alright.”

You feel him smile as his head is buried back into the crook of your neck, hair splaying across your chest as he quite literally breathes you in.

“I love you. I love you I love you.”

You’re kind of shocked. Normal Chris doesn’t say things like that. But half-groggy Chris is not afraid to voice his mind, and you love it.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Chris is a night owl and nothing you say will convince me otherwise. You’d stay up for as long as you could, sitting on the couch with a movie playing and talking about arbitrary topics. It’s only when you let out a massive yawn that he cracks a fond smile, looking at you teasingly.

“Tired, huh?”

You just nod, yawning again.

His thigh is a comfortable pillow.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It would take him a while to trust you enough to talk at length about himself or his childhood. It’s nothing personally against you, he’s just a private person by nature. Things come slowly at first but once you know enough he’ll feel much more comfortable and at peace in your presence,

+

On Cloud Nine (how do they act when falling in love?)

Especially for the first few months, he acts very uncharacteristically giddy and open. The realization that he’s less scared to love you anymore makes him ecstatic on the inside and, trust me, even the unusual enthusiasm you see from him has been majorly toned down from what he actually feels so as not to overwhelm you.

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

Honestly, I can’t see him using that many pet names. He probably uses one based on your real name, or just a nickname in general.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything that you tell him to the best of his ability. He doesn’t have notes or anything, but he values the golden rule like it’s his bible, and tries to be as attentive to his partner’s wants, needs and preferences as much as possible, just as he wants you to do for him.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment was one night when you got drunk.

You were out at a bar with some friends, Chris not being there with you guys because he’d had a recording session that day. He was home already, though, by around 7 pm.

Meanwhile you were at the bar getting absolutely shitfaced. You had one friend who was a designated driver that night, but everyone else, including you, had taken shot after shot of their strongest stuff.

It was time for everyone to go home. But you weren’t having it.

“No. I’m not going home with YOU, only Chris!” You slurred to your poor, abrasively sober friend. 

“Please I’m not trying to take you out, I just want you to get home safely!” Your friend groaned in exasperation. This had been going on for a while.

“Well then prove it. G-get Chris to do it and I’ll believe you.” You hiccuped.

Your friend let out a loud moan of annoyance, “Stay right here. I’ll be back.”

Your friend walked out to the phone booth outside, calling a rather confused Chris.

“Chris, get your ass over here and get your girl. Y/n refuses to leave without you and she’s gonna black out if I let her stay for longer.”

“Wow. Uhm- be right there.”

A long ten minutes later, Chris appeared in front of the bar, a familiar stance with his hands stuck in the pockets of his dark jacket.

“Chris!” Your friend brought you out, practically supporting your entire body weight.

Chris had to withhold a smile at your situation. Alcoholism was bad, he reminded himself, but you looked oddly cute calling out to him like that. It would be hard to get you all the way back home though, he thought with a small sigh.

Later when the two of you got into a cab, you had your hands all over him (pun intended). He was trying not to smile as you pulled at his fingers and placed kiss after kiss on his chin and his lips, declaring your adoration for him even as he reminded you that the driver could probably hear everything you were saying.

It’s a good thing you can’t remember it beyond his accounts because he’ll never admit how soft he got that night.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’s pretty protective of you. He’s seen some shit due to a lack of a person to guide him, so he tries to help you evaluate shady figures but ultimately lets you decide what to do yourself; again, the golden rule. That’s what he would want you to do for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Again, your relationship has more effort put into the emotional and support aspects, less on the performative side. You don’t go on elaborate dates. What matters is the thought.

U = UwU (would they act cute for you?)

intentionally, no, only when they’re sleepy or feel especially in need of emotional support.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn’t try too hard, but he always looks good anyways. He does take very good care of his hair though. (Seriously, what did he do for his hair care routine because I need to learn from it 😭)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. As soon as he lets himself admit his feelings for you, he doesn’t want you to go. There would probably be some rough patches in your relationship, or parts where you break up temporarily, but ultimately he cares about you probably too much for his own good.

X = X-ray (how does the relationship look like from an outside perspective compared to how it really is)

From the outside, it looks like the two of you are very independent from each other, with you being more dependent on him if at all. In reality, though, it’s almost the complete opposite. You just save your affection and doting for behind closed doors, and, if anything, he’s more emotionally dependent on you than you are for him.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Chris doesn’t like someone who pushes his boundaries. Most people would get uncomfortable, but him especially so. His s/o knowing his limits to him is the greatest sign of love and respect he could be given. This is also why he almost always wants your consent as well. He knows he would feel very violated when someone crosses his boundaries.

Respect his limits, and he’ll gradually grow closer and more affectionate on his own.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He barely gets enough sleep, sleeping incredibly late but still waking at around normal times. You find it odd how he can still function after weeks of this in a row, but then again he is tired a lot of the time.

A/N: thank you all for reading this! I actually had an amazing time writing this and please let me know if you want a-zs for anyone else :) Have a great day/night!

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑺𝒍𝒂𝒑 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝑫𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, promoting, justifying, encouraging nor romanticizing yandere behavior. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warning: Mentions of violence, toxic relationships, degradation and other types of yandere behavior are contained within this reaction. Read at your own discretion.

★━━𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐━━★

Hongjoong locked the wooden stock, effectively trapping your hands in place. He hadn't even began his actual punishment and you were already crying at the thought of what was to come.

"Buck up Y/N. You had the guts to try and stand up to me, let alone raise your hand at me..."

He walked over to the other side, his hand reaching for the cane that was submerged in the bucket of water.

"So why don't you have the guts to take your punishment as is?"

He grinned an evil smile as he held the cane over his head.

"I think, my little pet, you've grown too spoiled. But that's ok. Nothing a little more training can't fix."

You closed your eyes and let out a yell of pain when the rod struck down at your palms, over and over again.......

★━━𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊━━★

"What's wrong Y/N? I thought this was your favorite food?"

You could hear the mocking tone in his voice, you didn't even need to look over at him to know he had the biggest smirk on his face, waiting for you to eat your food.

But your hands were tied behind your back, meaning if you wanted to eat anything, you would have to degrade yourself and actually eat as if you were an animal, your punishment for slapping him 2 days ago. You refused to do that, even if you've been starving. Seonghwa sighed as he got up and went to stand next to you.

"You know.....you're going to have to give in sooner or later..."

You gasped in shock when his hand went behind your neck, slamming your face harshly against the plate of food.

"Even if I have to make you do it myself you fucking little bitch."

★━━𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘━━★

Yunho had been acting very depressed ever since your argument 4 days ago. You didn't mean for it to escalate so much, but you ended up slapping him harshly. You were so shocked by your own actions, you ended up running away to your place.

Meanwhile Yunho was a mess. He refused to eat anything, barely slept because he was holding his favorite plushie, the one you gifted him, and crying till he passed out. His friend Mingi was the one who checked up on him and was worried for him.

"Y/N I'm serious. He's in a really bad state."

So you went back to his house. You found him curled up into a ball on the couch, his eyes drifting between unconsciousness and consciousness.

"Yunho? Yunho baby?" You woke him up, lightly caressing his cheek.

Yunho immediately backed away from you, tears already running down his face as he covered his face.

"I'm so sorry Y/N! I promise I won't do it again but please don't hurt me!"

His words and crying broke you once again as you began thinking once again that you were a monster for hurting him again.

And once again, he was back in your arms, basking in your love affection...as always.

★━━𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐━━★

Yeosang happily strolled by his room and down to the basement. With a loud noise, he opened the door and turned on the light. Your eyes immediately shut and you winced. Having been in the dark for so long, it was hard for your eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room.

"I just came to say good night my love. I'd ask for a hug but....obviously it's impossible."

He let out a dry, sarcastic laugh as he admired his own degenerated work: your arms were raised above your head, tied to a rope with only your legs supporting you for the past couple of days. You were exhausted and weak.

"I'll settle for this then."

He leaned in and placed a peck on your cracked and dry lips, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

"Maybe tomorrow I'll think about finally letting you go."

He turned off the light again, but even in the darkness, you knew he had his cocky smile plastered on.

"Maybe..."

He said before shutting the door behind him once again.

★━━𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗━━★

"You seriously enjoy pushing my buttons, don't you sweetheart?"

San's diabolical smile widened as he watched you struggle out of his grip, your protests muffled by the scarf he had wrapped around your mouth. Taking your wrist, he strapped it down onto the table, secured tightly.

You watched in horror as he took out a hammer from the toolbox beside the table.

"You know....I'm actually being nice right now. I was thinking of cutting off your fingers one by one...."

He cringed before continuing.

"But that's too messy and how do you explain that to the doctor's if I need to take you to the hospital? Besides...."

He snickered eerily as he flipped the hammer in his hand.

"Broken fingers heal faster. Hopefully fast enough for you not to try any stupid things like what you just did."

★━━𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒━━★

Mingi held his cheek, too stunned to say anything.

"Y/N.......you...you..."

He seriously couldn't believe that you, the love of his life, his one and only, his heart and soul, his little angel....actually raised your hand against him.

You felt ashamed at yourself and began walking away, wanting to cool off.

"Y/N wait! Don't leave! Tell me what to do and I'll fix it! I'll do anything you say! Just tell me!" He begged desperately, waiting for instructions from you like a lost puppy.

"Stop Mingi! Just leave me alone for a while." You cried, as you walked out of the building.

Mingi went after you, calling out for you and becoming agitated when he lost sight of you in the dark, cold night. He had tears falling from his eyes and he was scared that he'd never see you again. He was so lost, he didn't see someone come up and rudely shove him to the side.

"Move you little bastard."

Mingi's tears stopped, all the agitation from before turning into rage. He looked over at the person that just passed him and took out the pocket knife he always carried with him. He slowly made his way over to them.....

His mind went blank as soon as the blade sliced open their throat, covering him in their blood.

★━━𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐━━★

"Fuck you Jung Wooyoung!"

As soon as your hand collided with his cheek, you immediately regretted it, especially when you saw the anger burning through his eyes.

"Wooyoung...I'm-"

He didn't even give you a chance to apologize as he grabbed your wrist and harshly slammed it against the wall next to you. You cried out in pain and held your hand as you fell to the floor. Your ordeal wasn't over yet as Wooyoung then pulled your arm away and stepped roughly on your hand. If it wasn't broken already from smashing it against the wall, it certainly was now.

He sighed and stroked his cheek as he walked away from you, leaving you there on the floor in pain and agony.

"My patience is wearing thin with you, you little brat..."

He looked at your crying form and rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, why do I put up with you?"

★━━𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘━━★

You weren't thinking when you slapped Jongho on the face. Truthfully it didn't hurt him, you weren't that strong. But something snapped inside of him that made him slap you back, but since he's extremely strong, it sent you falling backwards onto the coffee table, effectively breaking it.

As soon as he realized he hurt you, Jongho panicked.

"Oh my God Y/N!"

He carefully turned you over, gasping when he saw the blood trickling down from your nose and your lip that was becoming swollen, not to mention you'd probably have a nasty bruise for a week or two. Jongho began crying and holding you close.

"Baby...I'm so sorry.... I don't know what came over me...."

He sobbed and stroked your hair while you tried to get away from him.

"Honey please stop! I'm just trying to help you! Don't you see? You're too small and fragile to take care of yourself, that's why I have to protect you!"

It never crossed his mind that maybe.....it was really him you needed to be protected from...

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[chaoticminhos]

chained

pairing: seo changbin x reader

genre: smut, halloween !!

warnings: home invasion

word count: 2.7k

a/n: happy halloween my babies!!! enjoy sex demon changbin :)

summary: bombarded with chain messages the night before halloween, y/n expects nothing but her friends being stupid, or maybe some practical joke. what she didn’t expect, however, was for the message to play up to its threats, landing her with a surprise visitor.

you rolled your eyes as the message flashed across your screen for the nth time in just that day alone. nearly a dozen of your friends, and even some people that you wouldn’t call more than an acquaintance, had forwarded the same long, obviously bullshit chain message to you.

“the veil will be thin this halloween. send this message to 10 of your friends to lock in your safety. if you ignore, something bad will happen halloween night.”

it was the same type of shit that got thrown around in middle school and the fact that people still believed these cheesy things was really diminishing your confidence in your college for letting them in.

completely ignoring the message jisung had sent before the chain message asking if you were going to a halloween party the next day, you clicked off your phone. if he made you deal with stupid messages, he could deal with being left on read.

you made your way to your bathroom, setting your phone on the sink and ridding yourself of your clothes. you stepped into the shower, wincing at the cold. curse the cheap apartment for never having enough hot water, but it’s all you could afford.

despite the water being less than warm, you took your time. living in the situation you did, you actually sort of got used to the cold showers, and even liked them sometimes. of course you still wished it wasn’t temperature roulette whenever you needed to take a shower, but at least cold showers weren’t the most terrible things in the world.

eventually, though, your toes started to stiffen and the cold became unbearable. maybe the water heater was more busted than usual or maybe you were just in a cold spell, but either way, you could only handle so much of the ice cold water. even when you semi-enjoy them, a cold shower is only soothing for so long.

you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel securely around yourself, wrapping your hair in another to dry.

just as you bent down to pick up your dirty clothes from the floor, your phone buzzed on the ceramic of the bathroom counter. you reached for it, pressing the clothes from the floor against your body to hold the towel up with the other arm. unsurprisingly for it being nearly the middle of the night, the name on your phone read jisung, jisung, jisung. no one else was usually up this late on school nights, and when they were, they weren’t texting you. unless it was jisung. as your best friend, he took it as his personal duty to keep you from getting a healthy night of sleep, ever.

you unlocked your phone and went to messages, where you had 5 unread messages from jisung just since you’d been in the shower. clingy, as always.

upon opening the chat, you were met with 5 more messages matching the chain message he’d already sent you. as you were typing a reply and telling him to stop being annoying, another message came through. same person, same words.

with a huff, you deleted the start of the grumpy message you’d been forming and decided you’d stick with leaving him on read. he would get bored eventually. or so you thought.

nearly half an hour passed and you were still getting regular messages from jisung, all the same exact thing, copy and paste. you’d resorted to silencing your phone to avoid the constant vibrations signaling a message, but they kept coming. by now you had well over 30 of the same text from jisung, and you were getting fed up with it.

seeing that ignoring him obviously wasn’t doing what you’d hoped, you wrote a message and hit send.

can you not be a pain in my ass for literally two seconds?

you watched as the message tried to send, only to be stopped by a red error mark.

“message could not be sent. check your network and try again.”

great, so not only were the showers freakishly cold, the wifi decided to play favorites as well, working enough to deliver jisung’s messages to your phone but not allowing you to reply.

you took a deep breath as you sunk into the couch you were sitting on, willing yourself not to explode. your phone lit up in your hand with another message, jisung, of course, and you caught a glimpse of the time on your screen. it only made your bad mood worsen.

it was 10 past midnight, making it officially halloween, and instead of being happy as you should on your favorite holiday, you were busy trying not to walk straight to jisung’s dorm and strangle the ever living fuck out of him.

your phone screen dimmed and shut off. you took a deep breath and decided to follow suit, lifting yourself from the couch and making your way to your bedroom. maybe you just needed some sleep. maybe it was just as funny as jisung seemed to think it was to be spamming you like a middle school girl and you just couldn’t see that through your sleepy grumpiness.

you let your shoulder hit the door, gently pushing it open as you stepped into your bedroom. not bothering to turn a light on, you tripped over something, probably a pile of clothes, arms flinging out to your bed to catch yourself, only you didn’t come in contact with the soft fuzzy feeling of your favorite blanket. instead, your frantic hands were met with another pair on arms. a stronger, really steady, definitely-not-your-roommates-because-you-didn’t-have-one pair of arms, so who the fuck was sitting on your bed?

a scream erupted from your throat before you even had time to process the current situation. you immediately put distance between yourself and the intruder, tripping backwards over the same pile of whatever you had stumbled over in the first place. you fell backwards, luckily not close enough to the wall to have hit your head, and shuffled until your back was flush with the wall.

you watched in shock as the shadow of whoever the fuck had broken into your apartment leaned across the bed and to the table you had beside it, turning the knob on your reading lamp until the room filled with light.

he leaned back into his original position, the only difference from before being that how you could see him. he didn’t look like what you’d have imagined someone breaking into a young girls apartment to look like. he was sporting a bright white t-shirt and black sweats, his hair brushed out of his face. not really the best outfit for someone to avoid detection in.

unless he didn’t want to avoid detection because it didn’t matter if you saw him because he was going to kill you and it didn’t matter if you’d seen his face because you’d be dead and... oh fuck.

the words that left your mouth would have made you cringe at how cliche they sounded if you hadn’t been in fear for your life.

“w-who are you?”

you’d expected anything other than the reaction he had. he cocked his head, a small pout forming on his lips.

“think.”

your jaw moved and you tried to get something coherent to form, but nothing came out.

he chuckled at your reaction, keeping the pout on his lips as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands intertwined in between them.

“it’s been, what,” he glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, “five minutes since the last message and you’ve already forgot?”

your guard fell a little as the confusion of his words set in.

“what messages?”

he rolled his eyes, moving his arms behind him to support his body as he leaned back, and began reciting the message you’d been receiving nonstop for the entire night.

“the veil will be thin this halloween. send this message to 10 of your friends to lock in your safety. if you ignore, something bad will happen halloween night.”

you blinked at him, “i still don’t understand.”

he stood from your bed and began towards you. you knew that you should run, hit him, make a grab for your phone, anything, but you were frozen. you watched with wide eyes as he crouched down right in front of you, his knees touching yours, which were pulled up against your chest.

“it says something bad would happen.” he raised his hand for you to shake, “so hello, i’m something bad.”

when you didn’t take it, he sighed and let his hand fall to rest on your leg. your eyes snapped to his hand on your knee.

“of course,” he let his hand slide down from your knee and onto your thigh, “i don’t have to be a bad thing.”

your head was clouded and the only processable thought going through it was how warm his hand felt against your thigh. you knew that logically you should have done anything to get him to stop touching you, he was a fucking home intruder for gods sake, but you honestly didn’t want to. every moment he was near you, you felt the initial fear in your body melt into wanting.

he cocked his head, “i won’t even hurt you.” he raised an eyebrow, “unless you want me to.”

his eyes trailed up from his hand on your thigh and across your torso until he locked his gaze with yours. a smirk grew on his lips at how compliant you were being. he raised his free hand to your other leg and gently pushed your legs from against your body until he could fit himself in between them, leaning forward so his lips were only inches from yours.

if he’d doubted for any second that you didn’t want him, the way your legs trapped him close to you and your eyes were locked to his lips wiped it all away.

surprising him, you were the one to close the gap between you two, pressing your lips roughly to his.

he hummed into the kiss, bringing a hand up to cup your face while the other remained rested on your thigh.

he took your bottom lip between his teeth and you greedily accepted his request, letting him deepen the kiss. it only lasted a moment before he broke it off, grabbing your arms and helping you stand. he gestured towards the bed, and you me legs took you there before you could even really process what he was asking.

you sat on the edge of the bed patiently, eyes locked to his back as he pulled his shirt over his head. as much as you could have stated at his muscular back for ages, a rush went through you when he turned around. you let him lean down and gently kiss you before manhandling you until you were laying on your back in the middle of the bed.

you gladly opened your legs and let him place himself between them, crawling over you and reconnecting your lips once again. one arm kept him stable above you as the other trailed its way down your body, sneaking under your shirt and up your back to unclip your bra. you whined as he took his lips off from yours to lift you up and pull your shirt and bra over your shoulders, but he quieted you with his lips back on yours as soon as the clothing was out of the way.

a soft moan passed your lips as he trailed wet kisses down your jaw and to your neck, softly nipping at the sensitive skin. he continued his path down your body and to your chest, taking your nipple in his lips while his other hand came up to tease the other. you’d never been someone who got very worked up from having your nipples touched, but something about the way changbin did literally anything to you made you squirm. he continued to trail kisses along your stomach until he reached the waistband of your pants, his hand leaving your chest to hook around the waistband. you lifted your hips and he easily slid your pants and underwear to your feet where you kicked them off, leaving you completely nude under him.

he bit his lip as he scanned your naked body, completely on display for him. the fact that he’d managed to get you on this position for him just minutes after introducing himself to you made him throb in his jeans. he knew you’d give in to him eventually, it wasn’t possible for a human to deny his aura, but you’d given in right away. maybe you’d have given in to him even if he didn’t have a seductive aura, and the thought of you being attracted to him for reasons other than the fact that everyone was turned him on beyond belief.

he could have sat there between your legs and admired you for the entire night, but the impatient whine that left your mouth told him you wouldn’t be too happy with that idea. instead, he leaned back on his heels and undid his pants, pulling them down enough to finally release himself from the constraints of his underwear.

there really wasn’t an aspect of this man that wasn’t perfect, it seemed. he gave himself a few slow strokes, groaning at the long awaited stimulation. his hands returned to your hips and drifted towards your heat only to be stopped by your hand grabbing his wrist.

“i don’t need prep, just please fuck me.”

he caught a groan in his throat and replaced it with words, “say that again.”

you hooked your legs around him and pulled him close to you, close enough to make the head of his cock brush gently against your wetness.

“fuck me, changbin. i need you.”

how was it that he, the sex demon, seemed to be under a trance by you, a mere human? he didn’t question it, just immediately listening to you and lining himself up with your entrance, slowly sinking in.

you tried to keep your eyes open, you wanted to watch the pretty faces he was making as he sunk into you. you succeeded for a while, but when he gave the first harsh thrust, hitting you right in the sweet spot on his first try, you couldn’t help but screw your eyes shut and let out a borderline scream of pleasure. he was doing you so well, you thought maybe he was made for this.

it honestly surprised you how long you lasted with every single move of his hips being aimed at the exact correct spot. with a few particular violent rolls of his hips and his expert hands on your clit, you had the most overwhelming orgasm you’d ever experienced. you caged your legs around him, moaning a mantra of curses and his name. you felt him full you up and you could have swore that the feeling mixed with the unholy noises he let out could have made you cum again just from that if he hadn’t worn you out so hard from just one round.

he gently pulled out if you, cooing at you while you whined at the overstimulation. he fell down on the bed next to you and turned to face you.

“i made a good choice.”

you cocked an eyebrow, “what? breaking into my house and seducing me?”

he chuckled, “i didn’t break in. you let me in when you didn’t answer a single message i sent you.”

“that’s not even good logic.”

he shrugged, moving the bed a bit. “it’s clear in the rules i wrote.”

“yeah, okay.” you gave him a skeptical look. “how did you even get jisung in on this? he usually prefers to terrorize me alone.”

“didn’t need him to know about it. i don’t think his phone even registered the texts. they’re only on your end, if i did it correctly.”

you raised an eyebrow, “you some kind of hacker?”

he smiled, looking over at the bedside lamp and turning it off without ever touching it, not that you noticed.

“something like that.”

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 2

Summary:

The line of business brings Woods back to the CIA offices, only this time with his long time friend Alex Mason in tow. It's been quite some time since he's seen you, and in his mind, it's all for the better. But, when yet more errand work sends you on a mission to seek the Sargent out, and with a little help from Alex's social input, Woods is forced to brush against some rather confusing emotions.

Tags: Slow burn

Chpt 1 | Warnings: None except Frank and now also Alex's language

Woods and Mason walk leisurely through the halls of the CIA offices, making their way to the nearest exit after a status report with Hudson. Frank, who zoned out within roughly five minutes, is getting the abridged details from Alex. Something about a task force and the cold war, not much to go on yet, but Woods will take anything that isn’t pretending to be an average citizen all day.

Alex wraps up quickly and the two slip into friendly chatter. Most of which is snarky remarks at Hudson’s expense. As they go back and forth, Mason tells a good one that has Frank doing that hacking, bark of a laugh. He looks away to wipe a tear, committing the joke to memory so he can taunt Hudson with it later, but as Mason’s laughter begins to fade, a new sound fills Frank’s ear.

A pair thud quietly from down the hall in a half step pattern that could only indicate a pair of heels. Ever the ladies man, Frank’s gaze lingers a little longer to scout out who the approaching individual could be, only to see, to his terror, that it’s you.

“Who are you looking a-?”

“Fuck! Move”, Woods cuts Mason off with an urgent, but hushed voice before gruffly shoving him into a darkened side office.

He closes the door sharply, then whips around to peek through the blinds to see if they were spotted as Mason tries to steady himself. Alex dusts off his shoulders as Frank retreats further into the room beside him, “Alright, I don’t think anybody sa-”

“Woah woah woah, stop. The fuck is wrong with you, huh? What was that all about?”, Alex motions to the doorway, greatly and understandably annoyed.

Frank thinks for a moment. How can he explain this?

It’s been a few weeks now since he last saw you, which… was actually the first time he saw you… But, that’s all to his master plan of avoiding you, of course. It’s just, he really needs to find a way to patch things over with you. Ever since those parting few words he left you with, he's honestly surprised you didn’t sign his ass up for a psyc eval list. Damn, that’s the last thing he’d need. They’ll never let him hold a gun again if they got those shit show results back.

“So there, see? I just need to make sure she doesn't think I’ve lost my shit, and this whole thing can blow over. I’m just… not fucking sure what to say!”

Alex squints his eyes, trying to make sense of the bullshit he's just heard. The bad news is, his good old pal is one fucked up son of a bitch, but the even worse news is he doesn't have the time nor the patience to try and come up with something placating to say to the old Sargent. Instead, Mason settles for some reasoning and hopes it sticks.

“Look, if she hasn’t said anything yet, then I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. Now can we get out of this place?”, he takes a few strides towards the door and reaches for the handle, before being jerked back by Frank.

“Were you not fucking listening? It's too risky! Let’s at least let her get out of ear shot first, huh?”

“Did you fucking hit your head or some shit? I’m not waiting in here all day damn it! How about this, the faster we get out of here, the less chance you’ll have of running into her, ok? So we should leave. Now.”

Woods seems as though he’s about to protest, but Mason is already halfway out the door. The Sargent swears under his breath, but follows swiftly after his long time friend. For Frank’s sake, Alex sets the pace to a hustle as he power walks through the halls. So far, so good, as they weave around corners and hurry through the labyrinth of offices and meeting rooms, until…

“Sargent? Sargent Woods, wait a minute please!”

His heart flutters quickly at the sound of you calling his name, a sensation he hasn't experienced in... decades, at least. He thinks he’s never been so nervous for that to happen in his entire life. So, wh-?

“Ah, there you are”, you take a quick huff of air, a slight bit winded from the sprint you did to catch up, “Agent Hudson sent some papers down the line and I’ve been told to give them to you, he said you should still be in the building”

Hudson… Of fucking course.

Miraculously, Frank manages to bite back a few choice words he has in mind and accepts the document with a muttered thanks. He flips through it quickly while you and Mason strike up a quick conversation. It appears to be a transcript of the meeting the three of them just have, most likely kept on record for security purposes, but released to him ‘just in case’ he missed anything. His jaw twitches in agitation at the passive reprimand. Funny.

“-hat’s a nice dress you’ve got there… The color really brings out your eyes, you know”

A snippet of Mason’s conversation with you makes its way to Wood’s attention. You laugh politely and then with amusement as Alex bends down to get a good look at your irises, “In fact, they almost look… Yep! Wow... that is one beautiful shade of-”

Woods snaps the folder shut, shattering the mood, even as you shyly twirl a bit of your hair at the attention. “Alright, well thanks, but we gotta get going”, he makes a pointed look at Mason, before half leading, half dragging the man out after him.

Alex wrenches his arm free and shoots one more comment over his shoulder as he walks along, “Maybe some other time!”, he laughs. And as you giggle back and affirm that yes, that would be wonderful, Frank truly becomes concerned he might have a stroke from all the blood roaring in his ears.

At last, the pair finds their way outside and Frank starts to relax.

“Damn. You know, I’m not that type of guy or anything… But if I wasn’t married? ...Woof”

Woods stops dead in his tracks, and suddenly, he finds himself going from 1 to 1000 again. He whips around on his friend, “Hey, what the fuck Mason? ‘If I wasn’t married’, if you weren’t married what, huh? What's that shit supposed to mean?”, Frank gives Alex's shoulder a little shove, hard enough to stagger him, but gentle enough that it could be interpreted as playful.

Thankfully, Alex takes it as the latter. He rubs his shoulder in mock hurt, “Geez, calm the fuck down Frank, I’m just joking. And anyway, why do you care? Did you claim dibs when no one was looking?”

Alex walks on, thinking nothing of the comment as he does, instead a little bewildered at what’s come over his friend. It isn’t like him to get so defensive over just some woman. Not even if he was getting her in bed.

“Yeah… Well, maybe I just don’t think you should be saying shit like that, alright? Besides, you don’t even know her”, he jerks a thumb back towards the looming CIA offices.

Alex digs out his car keys, “Pft, know her? Like that’s ever stopped you before”, he scoffs. The two climb into Mason’s car as he starts the engine and buckles up. He sets one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift, before pausing briefly. Alex turns to Frank and takes a long look, “...Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You’re not acting like yourself Frank…”

The Sargent snorts, “Aw come on, the fuck are you talking about? I’m fine! Let’s just… Let’s get out of here, huh? Hanging around Hudson always fucks me up, you know?”

Mason sits back in his seat slowly, trying to decide if he buys the story. Maybe he doesn’t entirely, but he’s willing to let it go for now. “Heh, I hear that. How’s some beers sound?”

“You know what? Sure. Hey... but only if you’re buying!”, more barks of laughter escape him as they drive off. Honestly? He’ll take anything to not have to think about why he’s so fucked up over you right now.

[mylovehes]

Bad Call

Masterlist

Summary: Reader doesn’t wait for backup and gets kidnapped and tortured.

A/N: REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Any feedback is also appreciated!

Pairing: Spencer x Reader, mentions of the team

Angst with a little fluff (warning mentions of torture and abuse)

I knew it was a bad call. I knew I should have called and waited for backup before chasing the unsub into a big abandoned building. However, everyone makes bad judgment calls eventually in this job. I couldn’t let this guy get away and kill more women just because I was waiting for help. I thought I could take him on my own. I mean I had my gun with me. Unfortunately the universe wasn’t on my side and moments after creeping into the abandoned warehouse after the killer I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head as I hit the ground, gun sliding across the floor as my vision went black.

I woke up in a log cabin house with hands and feet chained to the floor allowing little access to move. I tried pulling on the chains with no luck. Soon after waking up I heard heavy foot steps coming down the stairs to my left. 

“Look who’s awake,” the unsub named Larry Peterson said smirking down at me. He is currently wanted for the murder of 15 women and as fate would have it I fit his victimology to a T. I glared up at the man from where I was sitting on the floor. “I think it’s time to get the party started. What do you think? I hope your friends like movies.” He grabbed a hold of the chains attached to my wrists. As he pulled I noticed they were attached to a pulley that hoisted my body off the ground to where my feet were barely touching the ground now.

“What are you talking about,” I said struggling against the cuffs that were now digging into my skin. He placed a laptop and video camera up directly in front of me. I noticed the red light turn on realizing he was sending a live feed to the BAU. At least this way Garcia can try to trace it back to my location and everyone will know for sure what happened to me. However, I didn’t want them to have to witness what was about to happen, especially not Spencer. He’s been through so much, he doesn’t need to possibly witness another girlfriend being murdered at the hands of an unsub. 

“Say hello to the BAU Y/N,” he said said grabbing my face and aiming it at the camera so they could clearly tell it was me. “Now normally I don’t like an audience,” Larry said while picking up a sharp knife, “but I think the an FBI agent warrants an exception.” He slid the knife across my skin as I groaned in pain trying not to give him what he wanted which were my screams.

-

Meanwhile at the BAU everyone was frantically trying to figure out where Peterson would have possibly taken Y/N. Garcia was unable to locate where the feed was coming from and everyone else was at a complete loss. The furthest they got was narrowing down that she was in a cabin isolated in the forest. Unfortunately for the team there were hundreds of cabins in the woods and it would be impossible to try every single one.

Spencer was slowly losing his mind mad at himself for not going with her to check out the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. He was the first to notice his girlfriend was missing, everyone quickly rushing to her last known whereabouts and finding nothing but blood and a note from the unsub saying he had Y/N in his possession.

No matter how hard everyone tried they could not get Spencer away from the computer screen that displayed Y/N being beaten and tortured. Spencer felt sick listening to her screams of agony but he couldn't bring himself to walk away in fear he'd miss even the smallest clue. If she had given him a clue so far, he had not caught it. 

-

My whole body was on fire. I had been cut, hit, and tased repeatedly for what felt like hours upon hours which in reality was only one hour since he began the torture. I didn’t have the strength to fight back and there was no way I was getting out of these chains without help so I figured the only thing I could do that might help my team catch Peterson was to get him talking.

“Wow mommy really did a number on you huh?” I said spitting blood out of my mouth towards him. 

“What did you just say to me?” He said stepping closer to me threatening me with his glare. 

“What are you deaf? I said, your mommy really did a number on you didn't she? I mean you obviously enjoy hurting women for a reason,” I said hoping to strike some kind of nerve and get him to slip up. 

“Shut the hell up!” He screamed stepping away from me.

“Oh struck a nerve have I? Let me guess. She used to abuse you didn't she, physically and mentally 24/7? I bet you felt real powerless.”

“I said shut the hell up bitch!” He yelled again slamming his fist on the table and grabbing the pitcher on the edge of the table. 

“Are you the one who killed her? This is her place from her mother right? I bet that's how you got this nice cabin because a deadbeat like you obviously wouldn’t have the financials to cover a place this nice and big,” I emphasized hoping maybe the size of the cabin could help narrow down their search somewhat. 

“Maybe this will teach up to keep your mouth shut,” he said roughly grabbing my chin and pouring the contents of the pitcher down my mouth and nose basically water boarding me. The liquid in the pitcher was salt water and it made my whole body hiss in pain from the various cuts scattered everywhere causing me to scream in agony. I begin laughing in a hazy way, about to faint from the pain my body is experiencing. Hopefully the team could track down who the cabin actually belonged too. Before I could think about it too long I glanced at the camera one last time before passing out again.

-

Spencer gasped as he realized what Y/N was hinting at and flew to Garcia’s lair. “Garcia I need you to look up Larry Peterson’s grandmother and find out if she owned any property. I think that might be where he is keeping her.” Garcia quickly typed in the information finding an address that was in the middle of the woods.

“That looks like a nice big cabin in the middle of woods just like what we’re looking for doesn’t it,” Garcia said smiling hopefully at Reid.

“Yes, send us all the address. She has to be there,” Spencer said running out to tell the rest of the team. 

Everyone quickly headed to the address Garcia sent them hopping out of the SUVs and putting on their vests. Spencer and JJ took the back with Hotch and Emily taking the front. Morgan and Rossi entered through the side door. 

-

I awoke to the painful shocking of the taser and a hand over my mouth. As I came to I could hear the sounds of foot steps above me. I tried to scream to let the team know I was downstairs through the trapdoor that Peterson had revealed to me was there but securely hidden. 

“They’ll never find you down here so stop screaming,” He said whispering into my ear. Tears began to pour down my face knowing my team was so close but not being able to find me. I took what little bit of strength I had left and with all my force I bit Peterson’s hand and swung my legs back hitting him just hard enough to get his hand off of my mouth.

“Spencer!” I screamed as loud as I could before the hand once again found my mouth and the taser found its way back into my side. Screams of pain left my lips, muffled from the ears upstairs. 

“Did you guys hear that,” Spencer said causing everyone to freeze.

“Yeah it sounded like it was coming from below us,” Emily said.

“Hey guys check this out,” Morgan said. I could hear the familiar sound of the carpet being dragged back and then the trap door to the stairs being opened up. 

Peterson’s hand left my mouth and I heard the sound of a gun being cocked beside my head. He pointed the gun towards the stairs, taser still pressed into my side. As I heard the steps begin to descend the stairs I realized he was probably going to shoot whoever came down.

“Wait he has a gun!” I screamed in warning. That distracted Peterson as he once again tased me causing me to cry out. The foot steps descended faster and soon everyone came into view. Tears sprung to my eyes as I saw Spencer. I could tell by the look on his face that he did not handle me being kidnapped well at all. 

“Put the gun down Peterson,” Spencer said aiming the gun at him. However, no one had a clear shot because he was using my body as a shield. 

“Take one more step and I’ll shoot her!” He yelled back aiming the gun at my head that hung down, me no longer having the strength to hold it up myself. 

“You shoot her and we shoot you,” Hotch said beside Spencer, gun aimed and ready. 

“There’s no way out of this Peterson you killed 15 women and kidnapped and tortured an FBI agent,” JJ said coming around to Spencer’s other side.

Peterson let out a spine chilling chuckle. He quickly pressed the button on the taser one last time causing me to scream in pain as he had turned the voltage as high as it would go before shocking me one last time. He then pulled the trigger of the gun, a loud bang going off. The taser fell from my side as Peterson hit the ground. He had shot himself. 

“Hotch, JJ, unhook the cuffs. I got her,” Spencer said wrapping his arms around my body.

“I knew you’d figure it out,” I smiled lazily at him, vision beginning to fade into the darkness. 

“Come on Y/N stay with me,” He said carrying me up the stairs. “I love you baby I just got you back stay with me now.”

“I love you too Spence,” I said and that's the last thing I remember besides being loaded into an ambulance.

-

As I woke up the first thing I noticed was the unbearably bright light. The next thing I noticed was the pain all over my body but more specifically my side. Oh yeah that’s right I was repeatedly tased. I groaned shifting and opening my eyes. The small moment caused the curly haired man asleep in the chair beside my bed to stir.

“Y/N you're awake,” Spencer said smiling at you. His smile quickly turned to a frown. “ What the hell were you thinking!” He yelled at me.

“I’m sorry Spence I made a bad call,” I whispered looking down.

“I was so worried about you. I thought I lost you,” He said tears falling from both of our eyes. He pushed his forehead against mine wiping my tears.

“You didn’t lose me. I’m right here,” I said reaching up and brushing his tears away as well.

“I love you so much. I’m so glad you’re okay,” He said pressing his lips to mine in a sweet kiss. 

“I love you too. I’m sorry,” I said again kissing him back. When he pulled back there was a knock on the door and in came the rest of the team giving me hugs and telling me to get better soon.

“The doctor said you’re going to be fine, but you have to take it easy for a little while until your injuries heal,” Hotch said being the last one, besides Spencer, in the room. 

“Really Hotch I’m fine I don't need time off,” I said trying to sit up more and groaning from the sharp pain in my side.

“You’re taking time off until you’re better Y/N and that's an order. Get well soon,” he said giving me a half smile before closing the door on his way out.

“They want to keep you overnight for observation,” Spencer said smiling at me.

“Will you stay with me,” I said giving him puppy dog eyes that I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. 

“Of course anything for you,” he said. I scooted over in the bed to make room for Spencer and he climbed onto the bed and wrapped me in his arms as we both drifted off to sleep. Spencer leaving a light kiss to my head.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Cassell Cynic Part 2

A continuation of @hectabdr @hectab‘s lovely characters.

When Nathan lay back on the bench, Hana’s face filled with furious determination.

Nathan protested loudly as she stomped his feet, seized his arm in a mighty heave and lifted him across the back of her shoulders. Her strong arm was wrapped around his leg and other her hand gripped his wrist. He tried to pull away but she held him tightly secured. “What are you doing?! Let me down!”

“I’m not going to let you make me fail this assignment!” She grunted roughly and stomped off toward the medieval looking administrators building.

Nathan used his free arm to pull his ear buds out. “Are you kidnapping me? Go die by yourself!”

“You think you’re going to die?”

“Of course I’m going to die if I go on assignment with you!” He struggled futilely against her iron-like grip. “Let go! You’re ruining my day!”

“When the dragons come back, they’ll do more than ruin your day. Or do you not know that because you don’t care to study?”

“I know that and that’s why I don’t bother! It’s obvious that someone else is going to do it, why should I care about it?”

“Because we …” She puffed, staggering with her struggling captive. “You're heavier than you look.... We all have a role to play. No one is going to slay the dragons alone! When the chips are down everyone needs to think about what they can do to make sure the dragons don’t win!”

“If I face a dragon, I’ll bow down and say ‘I welcome my new scaly overlords!’” He hollered loud enough for anyone in the courtyard to hear.

She stopped. Her face turned to him in horror. “You don’t mean that. Surely.”

His face was full of indignation. “And even if I don’t, so what? I just hope they don’t eat me and I live another day because I’m not slaying any god-damn dragon and chances are, neither are you! Now put me down!”

“Don’t put me in the same league as you, you coward…”

“I’m a coward? You’re a coward!” He turned to look at her over her shoulder. “You’re so scared of getting something less than an A+ that you’re kidnapping me! That’s what this is about. Don’t give me that Dragon War spiel. You’re more scared of your report card than a dragon. Am I right or am I right? Exactly. If this assignment was about dragonslaying, I wouldn’t be on it, being C ranked… No one’s going to put the world in my hands! Put me down!” 

She finally lowered him from her shoulders and he brushed himself off and smoothed down his hair. He turned to look up at her. “Thank you!”

She gave him a stern look, lips pursed. “You’re really serious… about not doing anything.”

“Yeah! I am serious! Thank you for finally acknowledging that!” He stepped around her to return to his bench.

“So you weren’t put up here to sabotage me?” She asked.

“I am not doing this to sabotage you. No. But someone might be. You do what you need to do if your grades are that important to you, but leave me out of it. I don’t need grades to stay here.” Nathan turned fully around and walked backwards towards the bench. “Contrary to your belief, your assignment is not the end of the world and, if it was really that important, they will find someone else to do it!”

He sat back on the bench, groaning in dismay as he picked up his ruined blunt where he’d dropped it.  “If I have to be on your assignment for you to pass then you might as well stay here on the bench! Because I’m not going. Period. You’ll have to deal with the smudge on your record. Though… knowing you, you’ll suplex them until they give you a make up assignment to erase the quote-unquote bad grade, so your parents don’t call you and cuss you out. If you do kidnap me, though, I’ll definitely make sure you fail, you psycho!” He rotated his shoulder. “That hurt, you know.”

Hana stayed where she was and helplessly watched him as he sat back down at the bench. “You’re really not coming. You’re not going to help me at all?”

Nathan didn’t respond. He rolled another blunt and lit it in silence. He could tell she wasn’t giving up, she was just changing strategy. She was drunk on the whole Dragonslaying mission Kool-Aid. He could feel his buzz actively dying as she approached him and sat back down. He passed it to her and she refused. But he insisted. “Take it, you need it more than I do.”

“I don’t smoke.” 

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He inhaled slowly. The skunky smell of the marijuana filled the air. “You shouldn’t care so much.”

“I do care but it's because this is what comes natural to me. I’m strong and talented and I can do the things they need me to do. My talents will be wasted elsewhere. No one’s putting pressure on me. This is who I am and what I do best. So why not excel at it?”

He coughed on a rough pull. He was genuinely shocked. “No? You don’t have some mommy and daddy at home who will be disappointed if you get a B?” He asked, scoffing at her. “You don’t care at all if you ‘fail your ancestors’ or something?”

“No.” She said firmly. “I don’t. I didn’t come from a prestigious family or a famous bloodline. I don’t even know who my father is. Unlike you.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “I’m self motivated and good at what I do. A few of the professors were thinking of putting me on a track to become faculty. They said I have to learn how to be an earnest guide. They wanted me to take you on an assignment and walk you through it.”

“Really? ...damn.” Nathan shut his mouth for once, scratching his head. “I’d pegged you as one of those trust fund babies.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “Believe me, I’m not. Like I said, I don’t care for them. They’re just coasting on their parent’s allowance and pretending to be better than everyone else. Kinda like you. At least you’re a trust fund baby who has their head in reality.” She grinned but there was no humor in it.

Nathan couldn’t argue that. “So uh… what’s this assignment?”

“I just have to accompany some cargo to the airport. But it’s sensitive cargo. So we just need to guard it.”

“Ah ha!” He tilted his head back. “So solve one problem with another. Very clever. You know what I think? I think my lack of urgency pisses them off so bad that they would do anything to get me to care even a little bit. And if they can’t get me to do anything, then they can get me off campus so they don’t have to look at me. They don’t need me here. It’s all head games. So I’ll play their head game.”

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head.

He pointed to the blunt in his hand. “What I mean is, this weed is going to give me the munchies. So, I’ll go ahead and put in a big order from the canteen. What do you like?” He pulled his cellphone from his pocket.

“I guess. Italian… pasta. I like Greek Food?” She said.

“Pasta and Gyros… sounds good to me.” He typed to put in the order.

“Are you ordering food for me?” She peered at his phone.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Nathan turned to her. “Wow… you really don’t have any friends.”

“You don’t either!” She snarled.

“I did before I came here. And I will when I leave here. You on the other hand… good luck on your ‘Hero’s Journey’. Heh.” He chuckled.

“Why don’t you just leave if you hate it here so much.” She stretched her legs in front of her and looked at the sky.

Nathan continued his lengthy order. “I don’t hate it here. I can live here, eat good food, and do nothing. Duh. It’s like the best vacation ever. It just sucks that by the end I won’t get to remember any of it. It’s like an alternate dimension. I just want them to give me good memories. Like I did something awesome. That’s all.” He waved his book of false memory ideas.

“You’re going to let them erase your memory?” Hana lowered  her voice, partly shocked, partly amazed.

“Yep. Here I’m no better than a regular human. So I might as well live like one. Order will be ready in 45 minutes.” He put his phone in his pocket.

“Why not split the difference? Do just enough to participate and stick around. That’s what Fingel does.” She wondered.

“Oh ho... Not just Fingel. Isn’t that what everyone else does? I look at everyone around me and… you’re  the first person I’ve met here who actually believes all this is for saving the world. That’s cool. You want to be here for that. But that’s why the other people get on your nerves. You can tell they’re faking it, and you’re not about the BS.”

Hana fell into a thoughtful silence.

“Which is why they sent you to talk to me probably.” He lowered his blunt. “It’s not that I don’t care that dragons are big and scary, it’s just I know I can’t do anything, just like 90% of the people here… so…” He shrugged. “There’s going to be maybe… what … 10 or 12 people actually fighting dragons? The rest? They’re just in it for the social points. And I’m not interested in social points.”

“What are you interested in?” She asked.

“Enjoying life while I have it.” He sat back and blew out a long plume of smoke.

Hana sat with him and stared out into the empty courtyards. On the peak of a gabled roof, a mockingbird was singing its heart out and doing acrobatic leaps in the air as it did so. Hana pursed her lips and tapped her feet. “If you could… please do this one assignment for me. I won’t ask again. I’m backed into a corner here and I don’t really have a choice at the moment.”

Nathan sighed loudly. “You could always do nothing, Hana. Just say, ‘He’s not coming, figure something out.’ I don’t want to get in your way, but I’m not going to let them play the pity card either. We’re all adults here. Don’t ask me to play their game. And it is a game.” He looked at her with wide eyes, waving his blunt. “If this assignment is really important, they’ll find someone else. The assignment isn’t the real issue here. This has nothing to do with your grade. I guarantee it has everything to do with their ego. They’re just like my parents. They’re just like my brother. Trying to make me care about their shit and I don’t. And that pisses them off.”

“You’re… pretty defensive right now.” She laughed.

He laughed in disbelief. He was getting pretty riled up about all this. “I want them off my back! I don’t understand why they need the C-ranker to be on board with their war games.”

Hana smiled disarmingly. “I for one… appreciate your honesty. You’re not so bad. I can’t be the only one who feels that you’re not so bad either. I think I’m here because they want to keep you around.”

Nathan raised his eyebrows. “Tch… Yeah good luck to them.”

 Hana pushed off the bench. “Alright. I’ll ask them to pair me with someone else or… do something else about it. Nice talkin’ to you.”

“Hey, don’t forget. Food’s gonna be here in 40 minutes.” He shouted after her.

“Alrighty!”

[seokiloquy]

The Language of Flowers Pt 1 -Tsukishima Kei

AU: Gang

Requested 

FEM! Reader 

Word Count: 3.7k +

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3

The attacks on the Miyagi Prefecture gave Tsukishima a headache. How come the people who wanted the Karasuno gang group gone couldn’t have gone straight for the leader — Tsukishima himself— and get it over with? Instead, they decided to make life difficult and do it slowly, set fire to public centres to send a message and rob unsuspecting businesses while people slept. The worst of it began within the past weeks. Pedestrians were being attacked by unidentifiable people all over the prefecture, ranging from scratches from defending off the attacker to stab and mild gunshot wounds. 

Tsukishima spent hours upon hours trying to figure out who they were and where they came from. Once he became the leader of Karasuno, he promised protection to everyone in the prefecture and it took a long time to gain that type of trust. He wasn’t going to lose it all now because someone didn’t know it was wrong to stab others. 

The sky turned dark as he walked along the storefronts of near-empty streets. Danger always lurked around the corner, so he was advised by the Karasuno members to stay within the walls of the Headquarters to prevent any attempts at his life. But he believed that if they wanted him dead they would have killed him already. The attacks on the prefecture were a part of something else, something he couldn’t see yet. Living in fear on his own streets wasn’t something he planned to do. Not to mention, killing Tsukishima would only start another war, not end the one they were currently in. 

He needed to clear his mind and walking around made him see all the reasons he needed to put an end to this person or group. Karasuno had been his family for a while now. He grew bonds and attachments with the people he was technically the boss of and never regretted a minute of it; however, a feeling of loneliness always followed him around. 

Tsukishima saw the relationships between all of the Karasuno members, how everyone was connected and what they were fighting for. That’s when he realized that they were all fighting for someone instead of the attachments he fought for: the streets, parks, buildings, and the people...that he didn’t know well enough and who barely knew him. Mostly, he was fighting for himself.

Hinata joined to keep his little sister safe. Nishinoya joined to keep his grandparents safe during their retirement. Azumane wanted to protect his parents, which brought along Sugawara who joined with Azumane (probably to keep him safe in this line of business) and then Sawamura joined after for the same reasons that Sugawara did. 

But Tsukishima? He didn’t have anyone to fight for, someone he wanted to make feel secure and safe.  

A scream brought him out of his thoughts. 

He rushed towards the sound. Underneath the light of a street lamp, he saw a girl holding her hands up in a defensive position, blood ran down her arm starting at the palm of her hand. A masked man stood over her, a knife in one hand and the other tightly pressed to his nose. He stood shaky and hesitant a little away from her, as if he was afraid of what he’d just done. 

Tsukishima came up behind the man, roughly grabbed his wrist, that held the knife, and yanked him backwards. The man flinched at the contact and stumbled back, landing on his butt. Blood dripped from the lower face of his mask and on to the ground. 

Tsukishima glared at him, but his gaze softened ever so slightly when he met the man’s— more like boy’s — watery eyes. The boy must have been younger than him. He didn’t have the age of time around that plagued most experienced killers. It even haunted Tsukishima when he took lives, their ghosts followed him around. The boy’s eyes were laced with fear. He looked like a kicked puppy who already spent the night in the dog house. 

The boy scrambled back at the sight of Tsukishima, his hands scraped against the concrete floor leaving a trail of blood. He knew who Tsukishima was and was clearly scared of that. He stumbled on to his feet and bolted down the street, forgetting the attack entirely.

Tsukishima hesitated. It wouldn’t take him long to catch up to the boy. He could finally put an end to the streams of attacks in the prefecture, but there were more important things to think about, like the person behind him that just got cut with a knife. There was no doubt in his mind that he would find the attacker again. 

With a shake of his hand, Tsukishima turned to the person behind him. She was standing under the street light, leaning against its pole. She was cradling her hand that had been cut, drops of blood fell from it and landed the pavement. The sleeves of her arm were coloured a dark red as well. 

“Take off your scarf,” he said, taking long strides to reach her. “I’ll wrap it around your hand to stop the bleeding.  

“Thanks,” she whispered as she unwrapped the scarf from her neck. 

He gave her a small smile, the best one that he could muster at the moment. He was trying to get into the habit of smiling, especially to innocent people who he didn’t know and didn’t know him. Besides, he needed Hinata to stop telling him to smile more because he looked ‘scary’ and ‘unwelcoming’ when he didn’t. 

Tsukishima nodded and gestured to her hand. “May I?” 

She placed her hand palm up in his and handed him her scarf. Tsukishima uncurled her finger to get a better look. “Sorry,” he said when he saw her flinch at the movement. 

The cut wasn’t deep, but it was long, so it would need stitches and it had tiny pieces of debris from the uncleaned street. He looked up and immediately looked back down when he saw that her eyes were already on him. Tsukishima released her hand and tightly wrapped her hand in the scarf, apologizing every time he saw her flinch in pain.

He cleared his throat and took a step away from her. “Good news, it looks like you’ll live.” 

She laughed and broke into a nervous smile. “Thanks.” 

“But there are some tiny rocks and stuff from the sidewalk in and around it that could lead to an infection,” he said. “You’ll probably need stitches.” 

The girl froze. 

Tsukishima furrowed his eyebrows. “Is there something wrong?” 

“I just...I don’t like hospitals,” she murmured, scrunching her nose. 

His mind blanked. “I, uhh, I know someone who can do it… If you want I can call them and they can do it for you. If you have disinfectant and gauze somewhere you're comfortable then we can do it there.” 

She was silent for a moment, tugging lightly on her ear with her other hand. He could see the redness of her knuckles under the streetlight, confirming his suspicion that she punched the attacker. “Are you sure? It’s late and I don’t want to disturb anyone…,” she said. 

“It’s fine. They don’t sleep early.” 

“Can they do it? Like, do they have a medical license?” 

He nodded. “He does.” He raised a hand to his head and pushed back the hair covering his left forehead. A faint scar trailed along the bottom of his hairline. He’d gotten it at a meeting that went badly and ended with punches being thrown. “He gave me a couple of stitches last year.” 

She thought for another moment and let out a breath of air. “Then yes, please. Thank you again…” 

She paused for another second. He glanced up and saw the expectancy in her eyes. She was fishing for his name. Names were tricky. Names had power, one he didn’t like to place in just anyone’s hands. If the wrong person had your name, it was as good as a death sentence. But she didn’t seem threatening in the way that could harm Karasuno. 

He found that most members of gang groups had a specific look in their eyes: hunger. The hunger of the fight. Every member had it, and if they didn’t, then they developed it. He got really good at seeing it; the distinct look that haunted him in the mirror every day.  

In her eyes, he read nothing but kindness. But he’d been wrong before.  

He must have taken too long to answer because the girl spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m (Y/N), but you don’t have to tell me your name if you don’t want to. It’s okay.” 

The invisible tension in Tsukishima’s shoulders vanished. It wasn’t like he was a phantom in the prefecture, some people did know his name and what he looked like, so why could he just say it? He ignored the pang of disappointment and idiocy he felt in himself missing the chance. 

“I can’t really complain,” she continued. “I don’t really know what would’ve happened if you didn’t show up…” 

He shrugged. “It looked like you were doing okay...you punched him in the nose didn’t you?” 

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? How did you know?” 

“Do you live far?” he asked, ignoring her question for now. He didn’t like how long the two of you were standing out in the open, especially with the opened cut on her hand. “I could walk you home if you want.” 

She picked up her fallen bag that was on the floor and did a quick check to see if anything was missing. Random robber? Tsukishima thought. Or a part of the string of attacks? “Two blocks from here,” she said. “And I would like that.” 

“What’s your address? I’ll text it to my friend so that he could meet us there.”

Tsukishima followed her lead as they took off up the street. He shot a quick text to Sugawara — who was, thankfully, still awake and answered almost immediately— and rattled off (Y/N)’s address, not forgetting to mention bringing the stitches supply from Headquarters. He kept his eyes open in case the boy decided to stupidly try again, but something told him that the attacker wouldn’t. “His eyes were watery.” 

“What?” 

“That’s how I knew,” he justified and cleared his throat, “that you punched him. The person’s eyes were watery and his mask was bloody.” 

“Oh,” (Y/N) said. She raised the uncut hand. The moonlight wasn’t the best, but from what he saw from under the streetlight and his first-hand knowledge of punching someone in the face, he assumed that new bruises were forming along her knuckles. “Recommendations?” 

Tsukishima wanted to reach out for her hand again but decided against it. “Ice. And your wrist is probably going to hurt for a bit.” 

She lowered her hand. “Okay.” 

The rest of the short walk was spent in silence. He paused when they stopped at the storefront of a flower shop. “Do you live here?” 

(Y/N) tentatively searched for keys in her bag and nodded. “Above it. I run the shop too.” 

“So, you like flowers?” 

She laughed and turned the key in the lock. “I wouldn’t run the store if I didn’t like them.” 

He pushed up his glasses and said, “Right.” 

She let him enter first. He stepped into the shop and the smell of flowers and dirt surrounded him before his eyes could match the sight. The warmth in the air made him feel at ease and welcomed like he had all the time in the world and he wanted to spend it here. 

When the light turned on, he suppressed a smile at the sight of them. The flowers came in every shape and size and every colour he could think of and more. They lined the walls on shelves and sat on tables that took up the main floor. All of them were laid out specifically for browsing and hand name tags in front of them. 

Tsukishima had never been one for flowers, but he could get used to them.  

Turning his head, Tsukishima saw (Y/N) emerge from the back room. Clutched in between her elbow and chest was a first aid box. She set it down on the table and waved him over. 

“Hey, do you think you could help me clean it before your friend gets here? I don’t want to hold up too much of their time.” She raised up her cut hand. (Y/N) had taken the scarf off of it. “It’s my dominant hand and I don’t really trust my other one to not injure me further.”  

He nodded, sat down across from her, opened the first aid box, and grabbed the tweezers. (Y/N) held out her hand again, spreading the palm wide and winced in the process. Cautiously, Tsukishima took out all of the tiny pieces of gravel and twigs that he could see. 

“Go, umm, get a washcloth and soak it underwater with some soap and clean around the cut. You should wash the extra blood off your arm too,” he said, putting down the tweezers and reached for the gauze and alcohol to lay them out for Sugawara. “Don’t get any soap in the cut.” 

(Y/N) sprang up from her chair, “Okay,” she said, and headed off somewhere in the back. 

He could easily do it himself but he needed a moment. As he heard the water running, Tsukishima closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. 

What the fuck am I doing?  

He needed to go back to Karasuno headquarters and ask someone to shoot him. Maybe the pain will help him reset his mind. 

“Are you a doctor?” (Y/N) asked. Sitting back down on her chair. The sight of her arm and hand without blood on it lifted a weight off of his chest. Real blood washes off, unlike the invisible blood that permanently stained his hands. He was suddenly ashamed of it and didn’t want (Y/N) to know. 

She literally creates life. How would she react to someone who takes them? 

“What?” 

“Your friend has a medical license,” she said, putting her palm face-up on the table. “You clearly know about how to treat cuts, so are you doctors or something?” 

Tsukishima choked down a laugh. They were definitely not doctors. He played it off with a smile and a shake of his head. “I’m not, but my friend kind of is? He has his license, did all the school, but he mostly does… private work.” 

There was a knock on the glass door. The familiar grey head of hair stood on the other side of the door, a curious look on his face. Tsukishima had no doubt that Sugawara was going to tell everyone what happened tonight as soon as they returned to Headquarters and went their separate ways; Tsukishima to his office and Sugawara to the common room. He held an all too familiar box that housed their medical supplies in his other hand. 

“Is that your friend?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Yes.” 

She waved him in. 

Sugawara opened the door and walked over to them, placing the box on the table they sat at. He nodded once at Tsukishima and smiled at (Y/N). “Hello! So, who’s injured?” 

Tsukishima knew that he was just asking for courtesy. They both knew that if Tsukishima was hurt he would’ve been with other Karasuno members or followed the protocols set in place.  

Tsukishima pointed to (Y/N). “Her hand.” 

Holding out her hand to Sugawara, (Y/N) said, “Thank you for coming. I hope I didn’t bother your night.” 

Sugawara smiled. “Not at all! Now, let’s see that hand.” He took her hand in his and brought it closer to him. “Did you clean it?” 

(Y/N) nodded. “Only a little,” she said and then jutted her head towards Tsukishima. “He took out the pieces of debris and I washed off the blood, but we haven’t disinfected it yet.” 

Sugawara smirked and opened the bottle of alcohol. “Did he now?” 

Tsukishima glared at him. 

“Hopefully he did a good job,” she replied, oblivious to the silent mocking from Sugawara. 

His smirk grew bigger. “It looks good.” He splashed some of the alcohol onto a clean piece of gauze and took her hand again. “This is going to hurt, but the stitches will hurt less.” 

(Y/N) shut her eyes tightly as Sugawara began to clean the wound. The cleaning was always the most painful part. It burned like hell. 

Once the worst of it was over, she turned her attention back on Tsukishima. “So what do you do?” 

He blanched. “For a living?” 

Sugawara snickered as he finished cleaning the wound. He discarded the bloody piece of cloth and picked up a needle and thread a string through it. 

“Is it embarrassing?” (Y/N) asked, noting Sugawara’s sudden amusement. 

“I work in...finance,” Tsukishima said hastily. “And private security.” 

“Sure you do,” Sugawara mumbled. 

“What was that?” she asked. 

“Nothing,” Sugawara said. “Let’s get started.” 

(Y/N) opened and closed her hand slowly, taking in the full effect of the stitches in her palm. She secured a piece of gauze and shivered. “They look creepy.” 

“Sorry,” Sugawara replied, packing up the supplies. “I can’t do much about that. Your hand might be out of commission for a little bit. And you work with flowers, right? Keep the gauze on and change it at least daily. If it gets dirty or you need to wash your hands or something, clean it and then put another gauze on. Take some pain killers too if you need them. I’ll come back in a week-ish to take them out. Oh! And ice your other hand.” 

Nodding, (Y/N) stood up and switched her gaze between the two boys. “Thank you so much. Is there anything I can do to say thank you more?” 

Tsukishima tucked his hand into his jacket pocket. “Try not to get hurt again.” 

The corners of (Y/N)’s lips curled upwards. “I’ll do my best.” 

Sugawara looked between the two, blinking in confusion. He nudged Tsukishima in the stomach. “Ride home?” he asked and gestured to the door. 

Tsukishima nodded and turned to the door. He only got a few steps in when he was pulled back by a tug on his sleeve and a slight murmur saying, “Wait a second”. He fought the urge to pull back and prepare for a fight. Many people knew not to grab gang leaders suddenly or you’ll end up in pain. Unless it was on purpose, then that would open an entirely new kind of stupid. But he knew that there were only two people near him and neither would do anything like that. 

At least he hoped so. But (Y/N) could just be a nice person. The world was short on them and Tsukishima hasn’t met many. 

Sugawara was already at the door and waved at (Y/N). “I’ll be in the car. It’s just outside.” 

“Thank you again!” (Y/N) shouted. 

“Did you need something?” he asked, turning back to her.

“Wait right here,” she said, holding out her hand in front of her to reinforce her message. A small smile played on her lips and her eyes lit up. “Don’t move.” 

She rushed into the back room and came out a few moments later with her hands behind her back. 

“I’m not going to close my eyes,” Tsukishima said quickly. 

(Y/N) frowned. “You’re no fun.” 

Tsukishima shrugged, a light smile forming on his own lips. He hasn’t smiled this much since he was just a kid, innocent and naive. “I think I have a free pass today.” 

She rolled her eyes but grinned back at him. (Y/N) held out her bruised hand. The stem of a light coloured rose twisted between her fingertips. It reminded him of a sunset, the light orange of the sky painted the center of the flower. The colour grew lighter and lighter, almost white, as it spread to the edges of the flower petals. 

Swallowing, he reached out for the flower. A tiny flush made its way up to his cheeks when her fingers lightly brushed against his own as he took the stem. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, holding the flower delicately in his hands. 

(Y/N) laughed. “It’s a peach rose. It means sincerity and gratitude. Or, in other words, thank you,” 

“Kei!” he blurted. 

(Y/N) cocked her head to the side. “Excuse me?”

“My name,” he said, lowering his voice as his cheeks burned. “My name is Tsukishima Kei.” 

The smile on (Y/N) face grew. “Well, Tsukishima Kei, thank you for helping me tonight.” Her voice faltered. “Are you going to come back? I’ll show you how to arrange flowers.” 

Tsukishima would need someone to stop him from coming back. 

Silence plagued the roads. The only sound came from  Sugawara’s car as he pulled up to the sidewalk underneath a street lamp, the spot of tonight’s events. Tsukishima let himself out of the car. He was relieved when Sugawara didn’t ask any questions once he got into the car with a flower in his hand, but the smirk on his face made Tsukishima wish he walked home. 

Tsukishima was going to tell everyone all they needed to know eventually. He just wanted some time to figure out things for himself first. 

He stood where the attacker once did. 

From here, he could see (Y/N)’s blood clearly under the light of the lamp. That reminded him to get someone to wash that away before the sun rose, but that wasn’t the reason he came back. Under his feet, the blood of the boy stained the pavement as well. 

Tsukishima took out a napkin from his pants pocket and picked up a small rock that was coated with dry blood. His other hand still held the new rose he received. 

He slipped the rock covered napkin back into his pocket. 

It was going to be a long night. 

I really enjoyed writing this one! Hopefully you liked it too. There will be another part! I just don’t know when...Bacon and I are swimming in requests, but I think it’ll be soon. 

Sorry that it’s late… 

On a different note, I’ve been reading a lot! I finished the Six of Crows duology and I loved it so much. 

Thank you for Reading! - Kiwi

Posted: 23/08/2020

[megalony]

Free to go

This is another murderer! Ben imagine that I hope you will all enjoy and feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem​ @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid​ @jennyggggrrr​ @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout​ @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez​ @jonesyaddiction​ @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex​ @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg

Murderer! Ben masterlist

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) have just had a baby when Ben gets arrested in their home but he reassures (Y/n) that he’ll be home soon. He knows Gwilym doesn’t have enough evidence to convict him.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You like that one?"

Following the sound of the rather mellow yet still gruff tone of voice, (Y/n) padded down the hall until she was leaning against the doorway to Owen's room. Her eyes found the source of the voice that she never normally heard in a soft and calming tone until recently. That voice was always abrasive, hard, cold and scratchy, it was never soft and mellow and calm like the sea gentle lapping at the sand.

It didn't take much guessing to see why his voice had that softer, smoother edge to it. He could hardly speak in his usual uncaring tone of voice to the newborn in his arms, that wouldn't be the best start if he let his son see him as cold and uncaring from day one.

A smile flowed onto (Y/n)'s otherwise tired features as she stayed in the doorway, watching the scene unfold in front of her. Ben was leaning his hips against the crib behind him wearing trousers and socks but no shirt. He had Owen resting on his right arm making the baby look so much smaller and fragile and when he tensed his arm Owen almost disappeared from sight.

The baby boy had his eyes half open and his tiny hand pressed on Ben's chest like he was patting his new tattoo.

Ben now had one tattoo on his chest compared to the rest of his body, he had one on the back of his neck, one on each knuckle on both hands, one on his upper right arm near his shoulder, one on his left upper thigh and a rather large, extensive tattoo spreading from between his shoulder blades right down near his hips. He for some reason didn't have any tattoos on his chest until now and it had confused (Y/n) why he would keep his chest clear when he went so far as to have the rest of his body lathered in ink.

Sometimes she did wonder if his chest was clear of ink because he had been cut and stabbed there a few times. He had a scar on his lower stomach on the right side from being stabbed a few years back and he had small slash marks from fights he'd had in the past. It made (Y/n) wonder if he didn't have tattoos there in case someone stabbed or cut or even shot him and ended up damaging any tattoos he may have.

Ben had Owen's date of birth on the upper left side of his chest along with his footprints taken when he was born.

Despite the tattoo being new and the skin all around it being as red as a tomato, Ben didn't flinch or look phased when Owen touched it or even when (Y/n) had touched it before. (Y/n) had been with Ben when he got that tattoo and it amazed her how he didn't flinch, pull away, grit his teeth or even tense. He didn't swear either, he looked like he could feel no pain at all and it made (Y/n) curious as to how Ben would have reacted when he got the tattoo on his back.

"Is he okay?" (Y/n) watched Ben glance up at her with a smile before he turned around to lay Owen back down since he was practically asleep in his arms now.

"He's fine." The words barely passed through Ben's lips before he found (Y/n) suddenly standing in front of him, her arms wrapping around his torso so she could burrow into his chest. She knew well enough now to know that she could lean on or brush against any new tattoo Ben got and he wouldn't flinch or make a comment about it.

"I think that one's my favourite." (Y/n) mumbled quietly, moving her head so she could kiss the latest edition to Ben's growing ink collection. Her eyes briefly looked over at the newborn beside them before she looked back up at Ben who looked very amused.

"Where shall I get your name?" Ben leaned back in order to look over tilt his chin down, his eyes scanning over himself as a shark-tooth grin flooded his face.

Ben had pleaded with (Y/n) for the past six months to let him get her name tattooed somewhere but (Y/n) was very against the idea. It was sweet and she knew it would make Ben happy, he wanted her name because now they had a baby together but she couldn't let him do that. If they broke up Ben wouldn't be very pleased to have her name inked on his skin as a permanent reminder of her. Ben insisted they wouldn't break up and that even if they did, he wouldn't mind still having her name on his skin because she was the mother of his child. She wouldn't exactly be out of his life if they did break up.

"No."

"Baby please, you know you'd secretly love it-"

"Not if we break up I wouldn't and neither would you." (Y/n) pressed her chin into Ben's chest so she could look up at him. He looked a mix between devilish and disgruntled at the response he didn't want.

"What if I did it anyways? I think your name would look good on my wrist." Ben removed one arm from (Y/n)'s waist to show her his wrist. He wasn't giving up, he was having her name tattooed somewhere eventually, he just had to wear her down first to get her approval. He knew it wouldn't be in his best interest if he did it anyway when she told him not to.

"Maybe in a year or two." (Y/n) could already guess that she would wear down and give in just to stop him from pestering her eventually.

"That's my girl, come on, let's leave him to sleep."

(Y/n) didn't quarrel, she followed Ben out of the room and downstairs until they were heading into the living room. She slowly sat down on the sofa before turning to lay out instead, leaning her head on the pillow resting against the arm of the sofa as she felt like she was sinking into the cushions until she was engulfed and disappeared. Towards the end of the pregnancy with Owen, (Y/n) had made a den of sorts on the sofa where she had spent most of her time and she kept the pillows and cushions here since her back was still sore, as was her stomach.

(Y/n) opened her eyes when she felt Ben lifting her legs so he could sit down with her, resting her legs over his lap and she could see he had shrugged one a shirt. Small shivers ran up and down her legs when Ben's hands absentmindedly ran up and down her exposed legs and up to her thighs.

They had only been home from the hospital with Owen for roughly a week now and since they weren't going out anywhere or having visitors round, (Y/n) didn't see any reason to dress up or dress properly. For the past few days she had either been wearing her pyjamas or like she was now, wearing one of Ben's oversized shirts and some shorts.

Owen was a surprise, he wasn't planned for either of them and it had worried (Y/n) in the beginning that Owen wouldn't be part of Ben's plan. He truly didn't seem like the type of person who would want kids, he worked a lot, he got into fights and he blackmailed, killed and terrorised people. Children didn't seem like they would fit into that plan of life but to (Y/n)'s utter surprise, Ben had been happy about this.

Despite the work he did and his cold exterior and heart and the seven years difference between him and (Y/n), he was happy and fine with this. They moved in together a few months into the pregnancy and (Y/n) slowly got to know how Ben worked and his different way of life.

(Y/n) didn't know how long she'd been asleep for or when she fell asleep but when she tiredly opened her eyes and looked around, the tv was on but Ben was no longer sitting next to her. A small sense of panic started to dwell in her chest until she realised she could hear him clattering about in the kitchen, most likely getting a cup from the cupboard to make a drink.

Waking up and finding Ben wasn't there was always a panic signal to (Y/n), it made her wonder if he had slipped out quickly for an emergency at work or if he wasn't there at night she had the sudden fear that someone had broken in and he was trying to sort it out. (Y/n) wasn't sure why, but waking up or coming home to find Ben wasn't there scared her. He was her safety net, she felt safe and secure when he was there and she couldn't even try to go to sleep unless he was there too.

Rubbing at her tired eyes, (Y/n) tried to wake herself up a bit more as she moved into a sitting position. She needed to get herself a drink and then see what time it was in case it was time to give Owen a bottle, unless she had been asleep for a while and Ben had already fed him by now.

Listening to the tv worked wonders in bringing (Y/n) back around and shaking off the sleep from her system. Once she felt properly awake and had regained all her thoughts and senses, (Y/n) pushed herself up to her feet just as the she heard someone knocking rather hurriedly at the front door.

"I got it." She called out to Ben, trying to keep the tiredness from her voice as she slowly headed out into the hall.

(Y/n) ran her fingers through her hair, catching her nails on a few of the knots and tangles as she tried to make her hair seem less of a bird's nest on her head. Her brows furrowed the closer she got to the dark oak brown door when she realised just how harshly someone was banging on the door to be let in.

The first month of living with Ben sent (Y/n) into numerous panic attacks when he had his workers turning up out of the blue and during the night, it was hard to get used to so many people coming round but at least Ben gave her some kind of warning beforehand now.

Reaching the door, (Y/n) twisted the key that was already situated in the lock but before she even pulled the handle down all the way, the door was suddenly pushed with so much force that the sharp edge of the door rammed into (Y/n)'s chest and stomach and just grazed the bottom of her chin from how close she had been standing to the door.

(Y/n) choked on a shriek as her knees caved in the moment she pushed her weight onto the door so it closed in whoever's face was on the other side. Her knees pushed against the wood, as did her forehead that was pulsing and had she been in a cartoon, stars would have been swirling over her head. A ragged breath pushed through (Y/n)'s nose as she tried to blink away the dizziness and breathe through the pain swelling in her chest and stomach that was already tender as it was.

When the words 'Open up' and 'police' hit her ears, (Y/n) had the urge to lock the door and keep them out but with the force they used to try and get in, she knew they weren't likely to simply go away.

Forcing herself to stand up properly on shaking legs, (Y/n) coiled forward just a little to relieve the pain in her chest and stomach.

"Baby, what the fuck?" Ben's eyes were wild with confusion and worry when he left the kitchen, freezing for a moment when he noticed the way (Y/n) was almost collapsing in front of the door and the scream she just let out that almost made him burn his hand from shock.

Ben didn't receive a response as (Y/n) moved just enough to let the police barge the door open all the way, sending her stumbling backwards. Her free hand quickly reached out for the shoe rack next to her to steady herself as her other hand pressed to her stomach that was burning like she'd been stabbed. Not wanting to be trampled down, (Y/n) pushed her uncoordinated feet to trip over one another to move forwards past the stairs and into the hall.

(Y/n) was grateful when Ben reached out and held onto her to stop her from falling flat on her face. His hands slipped easily around her waist and pulled her over to him until she was leaning into his chest and she could feel his lips pressing into her hair.

But as soon as Ben's arms were around her, (Y/n) could feel hands roughly pulling and grabbing at her arms and waist, trying to tear her away from him. (Y/n) kept her eyes tightly closed and her nails scraped against Ben's arm that she was clinging to but it did no good as she was still torn away from him and when her back collided with the wall she slumped down to her knees, blacking out if only for two seconds.

She could feel her stomach churning like she was going to be sick, all of the blood was now rushing to her head that felt like it was being squeezed until it was about to burst like a grape. She could hear Ben's dark, violent tone warning whoever just pushed her into the wall not to do it again and (Y/n) knew Ben would have launched himself at the policeman if there were no other officers here. He couldn't take down all four officers at once and someone would radio for backup if he tried. Ben could assault, bully, threaten, blackmail and kill anyone he liked but when it came to the police it was tricky.

They were here to arrest him and he couldn't harm them when he was being arrested or they had reason to caution and charge him. He couldn't give them evidence to use against him, they struggled as it was to find anything to pin on Ben and that was how he needed it to stay.

When (Y/n) tried to stand up, a pair of large, rough hands grabbed her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. When the man's hand caught on the oversized shirt she was wearing and made it ride up at the side, (Y/n) was thankful she decided to wear pyjama bottoms with Ben's shirt rather than just her underwear.

Her eyes managed to focus enough for her to see Ben ramming his elbow into an officer's stomach, giving himself the chance to pull away from the banister he had been pushed up against so that they could try and arrest him. He wasn't going to make a break for it or resist arrest but he wasn't being pushed into the banister for that. They were barging in here because they knew he was dangerous and a killer but they should know from previous experience that Ben always let them arrest him, he came willingly with them. They had no need to be violent with him or (Y/n).

"Go check upstairs, make sure it's clear." The officer standing next to the door ordered to a man who was hanging around the stairs like he was observing the scene, not knowing where to chip in.

(Y/n)'s frantic eyes locked with Ben's for a split second before he nodded and tipped his head in the direction of the stairs. He held his arm out in front of the officer standing next to her, preventing him from grabbing at (Y/n) when she stumbled over to the stairs and swung round, losing her energy as panic took over when she tried to hurry and clamber up the stairs.

"Get off me!" (Y/n)'s voice wasn't as firm or demanding as she willed it to be but there was a firm, growling tone to her voice when the officer grabbed at her legs to try and stop her since she was practically crawling up on her hands and knees.

"Get the fuck off her, she's going to get the baby." Ben managed to squeeze his arm through the gaps between the poles of the banister and he roughly grabbed the young man's wrist, yanking his arm away from (Y/n) so she could carry on up the stairs.

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she got to the top of the stairs and she didn't have the will to push them away.

(Y/n) had never had the police turn up to her home before, then again she'd never lived with Ben until a few months ago. The thought of police turning up at their home was unrealistic in (Y/n)'s mind considering how Ben was always telling her he was going to keep his work separate from home life, especially now that they had Owen. All his dealings happened at the club and she knew he'd been arrested there once before, it was a natural assumption that any arrests or dealings with the police would happen at the club, not at home.

A big part of (Y/n) didn't want to venture back downstairs to the chaos, she just wanted to sit in Owen's room and cradle her baby boy to her chest, trying to imagine all of this as some fiction of her imagination or a nightmare. But she knew she had to go down, she had to see Ben and find out what he wanted her to do.

Holding Owen against her chest and stomach made (Y/n) whimper in pain but she couldn't hold him loosely, she needed him pressed against her to reassure herself he was okay and to make sure none of the officer's downstairs would try and take him off her. She cuddled the frightened newborn against her chest with his head leaning on her shoulder and his blanket wrapped neatly around his very small, fragile frame.

Her legs were trembling when she shakily walked back down the stairs, pulling away from the officer waiting at the bottom who tried to reach out for her. (Y/n) leaned against the banister, her frightened eyes watching as Ben held his hands out in front of him with a face like thunder as he silently allowed them to arrest him. He knew there was no gain in trying to resist.

Ben yanked his arm out of the officer's hold, he didn't need to be held like a toddler to walk and he was hardly going to run away with his hands cuffed in front of him. It would be a big giveaway that he was resisting arrest if he went out into the street like this and he wouldn't get very far.

When he reached (Y/n), Ben very slowly lifted his cuffed hands up until he could loop them over (Y/n)'s head, tangling his hands into the back of her hair with his arms resting on her shoulders. He stood as close as he could get to her without squashing Owen between them who was shrieking and wailing like it was the end of the world but then again, he didn't know or understand what was going on. Ben pressed his lips to the side of (Y/n)'s head for a moment, feeling her hiccuping through silent cries and she was shaking against him. He darted his eyes around before he lowered his head and turned until his lips were pressed to her ear, he didn't want anyone hearing what he was about to tell her.

"Call Joe tell him what's happened, he'll get my lawyer to brief you on the phone and the guys will hang around, make sure no one's watching or coming here. They can't arrest or talk to you at all so don't let any other police in. Call your sister, don't stay here alone. I love you, I won't be long." Ben pressed a deep kiss to her lips before he moved his arms and took a step back, waiting for (Y/n) to nod that she understood before he made any move to walk out of the house.

He needed his lawyer to talk to (Y/n) so if the police tried to ask her anything, she knew the best answers to give that would keep her totally out of this and he needed the boys to know what was happening so they could stay close to the house and make sure nothing happened to (Y/n) or Owen.

And Ben didn't want (Y/n) staying here on her own if he was held overnight because he could be gone for up to twenty four hours in custody and she wasn't well. He couldn't have her on her own, hurt and shaken up and needing to care for Owen. Ben also knew how (Y/n) was when it came to sleeping, his way of life heightened her anxiety and if he was out late and came home past midnight, she would be waiting up for him.

(Y/n)'s sister despised Ben and would try to get (Y/n) to leave but Ben would rather have Clare try and do that than have (Y/n) left on her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Am I free to go yet?" There was something so snide and bitter about Ben's tone that caused Gwilym to look at him in surprise when he walked into the interview room. He was expecting to look over and see voids in Ben's pupils that were alight with a fire of anger, he thought he would be met with snarling lips and bared teeth and clenched hands slamming down on the desk.

But all he could see was someone who looked like they were playing cards and had a royal flush hidden in their deck. Ben had one brow raised, his head bent to the side at an odd angle and a smile that was so unnerving, Gwilym had to stop himself from shivering.

This was the fourth time he had been able to both arrest and bring Ben into custody for questioning and he was determined not to let him slip through his grasp this time. Everyone knew all the crimes Ben committed and Ben knew they knew, but they never had the evidence or witnesses to gain enough grounds to arrest him for good. They could only bring him in for questioning and watch as he wriggled free and walked away. Sometimes he went straight out and committed another crime they couldn't pin on him, sometimes he laid low for a while and other times he disappeared off the radar and moved away.

Gwilym couldn't let him go again.

"Afraid not, Mr Hardy. We need to ask you some questions about a murder, but you already know that."

"The officer did mention something like that. I've been here for five hours, if you could ask me quickly so I can go home that would be nice." The way Ben smiled looked so genuine yet so fake that it was almost confusing, he looked like he was being genuine yet he wanted Gwilym to see he was being fake to rattle him.

Ben leaned back in his seat and straightened his spine, letting it click back into place before he sat up straight and rested his arms on the table, linking his hands together.

"Do you know this man?" Gwilym pulled out a brown paper file and took out three different pictures, placing them neatly on the table in front of his suspect who they both knew was guilty beyond belief. One picture was a mugshot of the victim, and the other two pictures were taken from the crime scene where he had been beaten to a pulp before being shot.

It unnerved and angered Gwilym how Ben pulled the pictures closer to take a proper look like he was wracking his brain as if he were a witness helping them with their crime instead of the murderer trying to get away with it. He even glanced over to his lawyer sat beside him before he looked back over at Gwilym.

"Yes, he's called Robert, he was a member of my gym." Ben could see his answer startled Gwilym. This was the first time he had ever admitted he knew someone they brought him in to question about. He had no reason to say he knew them because he already knew there was no evidence to tie him to his own crime but he thought he would toy with them for a bit.

"Was?"

"I don't think he'll be coming back, do you?" Ben pointed at the middle photo that showed the bullet hole in his forehead.

"He was seen going into your gym on the day he died. No one saw him leave and at some point in the evening he was murdered and his body was dumped not too far from your place of work."

"When was that?" Ben folded his arms over his chest, looking rather bored now like he was done playing a game and wanted to move onto something else now. Gwilym was trying to catch him out, make him give himself an alibi without them giving him enough information but Ben wasn't stupid enough to fall into their little traps.

"Two weeks ago, Tuesday nineteenth. We have a witness come forward who says they saw you leaving the scene where we found him."

"Did they identify me by you giving them a picture, did they describe me or did they give you my name?" Ben hardly looked phased about a witness placing him at a murder scene and it was really getting under Gwilym's skin now.

Ben knew that there were officers who would stoop so low as to find someone and show them a picture of Ben and prompt them to say they saw him there. But if someone just described him it wasn't definite proof he was there and if they gave his name it was more unreliable because a lot of people knew him and wanted him in prison.

"The witness described you, then identified a picture of you."

Gwilym pulled another piece of paper from his file and placed it in front of Ben, allowing him to see the description that was given by their so called witness. They gave a description of Ben's hair, a vague description of his face, approximate height and clothes.

"They saw a man walking the street at ten o'clock at night in a black coat and trousers. They didn't stop and talk to whoever they saw and they were on the other side of the road. Your witness hasn't described my client's various tattoos that could have been seen and they didn't get close enough to see his face. This isn't definite proof my client was there."

Ben's lawyer handed the paper back to Ben, sounding like he was ending the discussion there and Ben couldn't help the grin that took over his face. It could have been anyone, the fact that it actually was him made no difference because Gwilym couldn't definitely prove it in a court of law. They would see the time, know how dark it would have been and the distance the witness was from Ben and know they were only guessing.

"We found shoe prints at the scene and cigarette stubs at the scene."

When more pieces of paper were placed in front of Ben, he spared them a glance, focusing more on the sticky notes attached to them giving information about the shoe size, the type of shoe and the type of cigarettes they found.

"Sadly, I can't fit into a size ten converse, I take eleven and a half size and converse aren't my thing. Plus, I only smoke menthol cigarettes."

Ben had to admit Gwilym had managed to find some actual evidence at this crime scene, but sadly for him, none of it linked Ben to the scene. He was careful that if he was the one who did the killing, nothing was left behind that linked him there. No one saw him do it, no fingerprints, DNA, pieces of clothing or traces were left behind. He wouldn't be so stupid to leave his actual cigarettes at the scene, they must have been from Adam who was along with Ben when they killed Robert.

"Do you have any tangible evidence that links my client to the scene?"

"Does your client have an alibi for that day?" Gwilym countered, trying not to show that this was his last resort. If Ben didn't have a watertight alibi Gwilym would tear it apart and keep him here for as long as he could. He was going to do everything he could to pin this one to him.

"I was home with my girlfriend."

"All day?"

"She was nine months pregnant, do you really think I'd leave her alone during the evening to go kill someone when she could go into labour at any moment?" It was a good enough excuse and alibi, (Y/n) had been very close to her due date and Ben hadn't been in the club for over two weeks so he could be home with her. Things got out of hand at the club so he left for one hour to sort Robert out, but Gwilym wasn't to know that.

"So if we talk to her, she'll confirm you never left the house that day? And the day before and the day after, what about then?"

"The day before we didn't leave the house, Tuesday we didn't go anywhere because she felt ill and if you ask our midwife, she'll confirm I called her at two in the morning on Wednesday because (Y/n)'s water broke. We were in hospital for the next five days."

Ben had one of the best alibi's going for this murder, he had (Y/n).

He left the house on Tuesday at five in the afternoon to sort Robert out, let his men move and dispose of the body later and after that Owen was born. There was no way Gwilym could pin this one on Ben, he had no evidence leading to Ben and he had a watertight alibi and no proper witnesses to place him at the scene. Their only witness didn't even see Ben because he didn't move Robert's body from the club. He was in the clear.

"Right... bear with me whilst I go and get that confirmed by your girlfriend." Gwilym pushed his chair back but he didn't have time to stand up before Ben's lawyer was speaking.

"I've already got the midwife's contact details and I think talking to miss (Y/l/n) should be done by a different officer once I've had chance to speak to her."

"Why do you think that?"

"From what my client tells me, when you forced entry into his home miss (Y/l/n) was injured and detained without cause. I need to talk with her and see if she's pressing charges before any officer questions her in a case she isn't involved with."

There was no way that Ben was letting Gwilym or his officers get away with how they had barged into his home and hurt (Y/n), even if they didn't intend to. They ought to realise by now that Ben let them arrest him, he let them put him in custody because he always knew he would get out, just like he was today. They had no reason to barge in like that and then to try and detain (Y/n) when she did nothing wrong. Ben wasn't letting that drop, he was making sure Gwilym thought twice before he even dared to come to Ben's home again, let alone try and arrest him in that manner.

When Gwilym looked over at Ben sitting across from him, the shit-eating grin on Ben's face said it all.

He was walking away free this time too.

[zeldan7]

Nightmares - 707 x OC

Pairing: Saeyoung (707) x Seren (OC) Warnings: Death Word Count: 1107

             Saeyoung slammed his foot into the pedal, feeling the car lurch forwards. Speeding well over the limit, he weaved through the traffic, skilfully slotting into gaps while still gaining speed. He couldn’t lose them; he refused. He’d already lost Saeran once, he wasn’t about to let it happen again, and Seren… He shook his head, plunging his car forwards even faster.

              Tyres screeched as he skidded the car to a halt; far enough away to avoid detection. Pulling out his laptop, he began frantically typing, hacking into the building’s security. Once the system had been shut down, he quietly shut his door behind him and jogged up to the building.

              The building sat in darkness, despite it being the middle of the night. They’d obviously had too much faith in their security system to bother leaving someone on guard. Saeyoung couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at their foolishness.

              He slipped inside the front door and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. He’d memorised the layout of the building from the blueprints he’d found earlier, and was able to navigate easily, despite having never been inside this place before.

              Soon, he found himself in the room he had been searching for, made clear by the two silhouettes tied to chairs in the centre. He started towards them, ready to grab them and get out of there, when suddenly the lights came on, temporarily blinding him.

              When Saeyoung opened his eyes again, there was a grey-haired man standing between the two chairs.

“You made it, 707,” the man stated, smiling.

Saeyoung grimaced. He knew this would be related to his former agent life. “707 doesn’t exist, not anymore.”

He was met with a short, sharp laugh. “It doesn’t matter who you are now. You were 707, and that’s why you’re here.”

Saeyoung didn’t understand. How could they have seen him coming? How did they know he was here? He’d shut everything down!

He looked away from the man to see the two people that meant more to him than anything in the world: Saeran, hazel eyes wide with panic, and Seren, sobbing, desperately trying to shake her confines off.

“Saeyoung,” she cried, nearly toppling forward. “Please…” That was all she managed to spit out before one of the man’s assistants roughly shoved a balled-up rag in her mouth.

Saeyoung choked, tears stinging his eyes, as he instinctively went towards Seren.

“Uh, uh,” The man tutted, aiming his pistol at Seren’s head.

The threatening tears fought their way out, splashing on to his cheeks. “No! Please, no! It’s me you want, just let them go and I’ll do whatever you want!”

Seren shrieked, violently shaking her head from side to side, while Saeran just sat and stared, frozen.

“No, Zero Seven. That’s not how this works.” The man’s grin was unsettling as he continued. “You have a choice: you’re more than welcome to leave here, but with your scared brother? Or your pretty lady friend?”

“What-what if I refuse?” Saeyoung was shaking, both from anger and no small amount of fear.

“Then all three of you will die.”

              The realisation was enough to bring Saeyoung to his knees. “You… I-I have to choose…? Between my brother… and my fiancée?”

The man simply tapped his watch. “Tick tock, Zero Seven, time is running out.”

He tried to crawl forwards, feeling utterly defeated. He had no way out of this, he had no clue what to do. He’d arrived unarmed, expecting to be in and out as quickly as possible. He just wanted to hold his family in his arms one more time… but the sound of a gun’s safety being removed stopped him in his tracks. Saeyoung looked up at the man, pleading with his eyes, beginning to choke on his tears.

Suddenly, an alarm started going off.

“Time’s up, Zero Seven. You must choose.”

“I-I can’t,” He felt like he was going to throw up. He’d failed the two most important people in his life.

The man pressed the gun against Seren’s head and squeezed the trigger, cutting her scream short.

                “No!” Saeyoung screamed. The alarm noise was all around him, engulfing him, and he punched the object producing the noise just to get some silence. He sat upright, sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” He rockd backwards and forwards, hyperventilating and mumbling the same words over and over.

There was a sudden gasp from beside him, followed by the sound of gentle movement.

“Sae?” He faintly heard as a hand touched his shoulder. He threw it off and flinched away, falling off the bad and landing in the shattered pieces of alarm clock.

“Oh my God, Sae!”

Vaguely, he saw someone coming towards him, and he finally gave up the fight. He’d failed. He’d lost them both. Falling backwards, he slammed his head on to the ground, and felt something sharp dig into his arm. He waited for the inevitable end; the end he deserved, but it never came. Instead, two small hands rested on his shoulders, carefully bringing him upright.

“Saeyoung. Saeyoung, look at me.”

A face appeared in his vision, but everything was too blurry to make sense of it, his mind a racing mess. He felt a weight in his lap, and something warm pressed into his neck. A breath tickled his skin.

“I’m here, Sae. You’re safe, I’m safe, Saeran is safe.”

His thoughts began to slow.

“707 no longer exists, you’re safe from that life. We all are,”

His vision slowly returned, and he saw that the weight in his lap was in fact his fiancée. Instantly, he wrapped his arms around her as tight as he could, whispering into her hair. “You’re safe.”

              Once his breathing had calmed, Seren gently pulled away and helped Saeyoung to his feet.

“You’re hurt,” she stated, motioning to the bloody cut the alarm clock had given him. She entwined their fingers and slowly led him to the kitchen so she could patch him up. He was dazed, so much so he nearly fell downstairs. It felt so real, he was almost certain Seren and Saeran had been killed because of him.

              Saeran was already in the kitchen, making breakfast. Saeyoung dropped Seren’s hand and sprinted to his brother, embracing him tightly.

Saeran began to protest, but stopped when he saw Seren shaking her head. After a few moments, she joined them, and they both felt Saeyoung relax at the feel of them being with him.

“I love you both, so much.” Saeyoung finally managed.

“We love you, too. We’re safe,”

Seren felt Saeyoung smile against her neck. “I’ll protect you, always.”

[empyreansmoon]

Title: Moonlit Tendencies

Pairing(s): Deoksu/Eunjae

Main Character(s): Park Deoksu. Lee Eunjae.

Summary: Finding himself in the practice room due to a restless night wasn’t something uncommon for Deoksu. What was shocking was finding someone else in the practice room in the dead of night, trying to avoid confronting the tendencies that shone in the cusp of the night. 

Warning(s): Unhealthy thoughts, unhealthy coping mechanisms/mindset, breakdown(s), hints of anxiety (?)

Word Count: 3.2k

Note(s): This takes place prior to their Salty Kisses promotion, so roughly late May to early June!

The last thing Deoksu should have been doing at this time of the night was entering Neostar’s building in an attempt to secure himself a practice room for the night, especially considering how he’s been lectured on this same action previously. 

Granted, not by a member or anything, but the CEO himself, so it wasn’t like Deoksu didn’t know better. He just decided to skip over that memory of being lectured in a hallway the best he could. 

It was what he knew best. Finding somewhere to dance when something was troubling him. He’s lost count of the times he’s experienced such sadness or discomfort that he had rather decided to find himself dancing away to distract himself. 

Even if he wouldn’t call it a distraction. No, he didn’t like the meaning behind that, it left behind a lingering feeling that he would have to confront the same emotions he was so keen on avoiding. He just looked at it as his form of comfort. 

Deoksu sighed as he let a hand brush through his hair, simultaneously loving and hating the silence that echoed throughout the dark building. Loving it for the fact that it was the feeling of having space to himself, without having to be bothered by anyone else. Hating it for the fact that it was the feeling of being left alone with the potential of the same thoughts that were hellbent on keeping him awake creeping back up. 

The boy slapped his cheeks gently, trying to get away from thinking like that as he walked towards the practice room Empyrean usually occupied, halting his steps as he took notice of how the lights in the room peeked out from underneath the door. 

Someone else was using the practice room...which would be fine if it wasn’t Empyrean’s practice room since it only meant one thing: one of his own members were out practicing at a time that they shouldn’t have been. 

The leader slowly placed his hand on the handle of the door, before ever so gently trying to open it, moving his head so he could get a glance as to what was going on inside. 

The moment his eyes fell open the boy in the middle of the room, dancing to the choreography that had been working on for the past week, he automatically recognized who it was. 

Granted, it didn’t take a detective to take note of the overly baggy attire that was several sizes too large on the boy’s body, which was a signature look of his. Or his short stature, that had often been a teasing point for him amongst the boys. 

But Deoksu would like to state it was his leadership skills which just made him realize immediately the moment he laid eyes on his body moving to the beat of their title track “Utopia”. The older of the two leaned against the doorframe, his eyebrows furrowing together in a slight daze of confusion as he silently watched the younger. 

Had this been Chan, the confusion wouldn’t have been so prominently bubbling inside of Deoksu. Being the lead dancer, it would’ve made sense for the other boy to potentially be up trying to perfect his moves. However, neither Yeonjin and Eunjae were the type to stay up until the late of the night practicing, especially after a whole of said practice. Both boys were hard-workers in their regular practice, and neither slacked, but neither were as focused in their dancing to produce this action. Especially without the rest of the group. 

So, watching Eunjae dance as aggressively as he was didn’t quite add up to Deoksu. 

The leader watched as Eunjae stopped mid-movement, only to bend down and put his hands on his knees, breathing in and out heavily, no doubt to the tiredness rushing through him. This was enough to snap Deoksu out of his daze, making him softly but firmly knock on the door, immediately grabbing the attention of the younger. 

The moment Eunjae’s eyes met Deoksu’s, something in Deoksu flashed with hurt. It didn’t take longer than a second for Deoksu to take in the sweat that had drenched Eunjae’s face, his heavy breathing seemingly almost making him shake, and his eyes hued with flecks of red, signifying something more to them than the small smile he tried throwing at his leader. 

“Deoksu?”

“Eunjae?” Deoksu questioned, his almost stern tone contrasting the almost gleeful tone that slipped from Eunjae’s lips. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m…” Eunjae cut himself off, and simply lowered his body so he could gently sit on the floor, trying to get his breath while doing so. “I’m practicing.”

“At this time?”

“Don’t you do the same? Didn’t you come here to do the same?” Eunjae threw back the questions, his head craning around to eye the backpack that Deoksu had picked up from his room, a habit he had picked up when he wasn’t even an idol. To pack everything up into a bag and just leave for an unsolicited amount of time. 

“That’s not the same.”

“How is it not?”

“Then what’s bothering you?” the question pierced the almost friendly banter Eunjae had attempted to throw out, the shaking smile that was present on his face falling away completely. “Because if it is the same...there’s something else going on.”

“Deoksu, can we...can we not do this?”

Deoksu sighed, moving to where he could close the door behind him, before he allowed his bag to slip off before throwing it gently into a corner. 

“Sure.”

The simple word allowed Eunjae to visibly relax, only adding to Deoksu’s suspicion as he took his eyes off the younger for the first time since he opened the door, walking to where the music was blasting to turn it off. 

“But you aren’t practicing.”

“What?”

“It’s almost midnight, Eunjae. You and I both know we have recording and shoots planned for this week, you need rest.”

“And you don’t?”

“This isn’t about me, Eunjae.”

“Of course it isn’t.” the younger bit out bitterly, shifting his body on the floor to where he was no longer facing Deoksu, his head shifting downwards to eye where he had begun playing with the hem of his t-shirt. 

Deoksu closed his eyes before letting himself inhale and exhale through his nose, scratching at the top his head in a slight sense of irritation to where this conversation had gone: the exact opposite of what he was wishing for. 

He took a second before he decided to simply sit down right next to Eunjae, eliminating any distance as he let his knee softly brush against Eunjae’s, but not going to the point of sitting in the direction Eunjae was facing. Deoksu had picked up on how to push, but not overstep during his time as Empyrean’s leader. Each boy was different, a part of Deoksu knowing it was both easy and hard when it came to Eunjae’s problems. 

It was easy in the sense that Eunjae wasn’t the type who necessarily cared enough to hide his problems from his members, always preaching that it was better to let someone else hear your issues to lessen the burden of carrying it. He would never flat out say his problems out of nowhere, but if he had an issue he wouldn’t simply brush it off and try to hide it. 

That was Deoksu’s job, it seemed.

However, it was also hard when it came to Eunjae because there was the part of Eunjae that sparked an internal war within him whenever someone approached him about his own issues. It was different if Eunjae came to talk about his issues than when someone attempted to get him to talk about his issues instead. It was something Deoksu took note of over-time, and made sure to always take it into account. 

Especially in situations like this.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk? About anything?”

Silence lulled between the two, Deoksu turning his head the slightest in order for his eyes to land on the back of the younger. He suppressed the sudden urge he had to simply wrap his arms around him and just comfort him to the best of his abilities, not sure in the slightest if that was something he’d even want. 

“It’s stupid-”

“Nothing is stupid, Eunjae-”

“No it is stupid because it’s a problem I’ve had before but I just...I can’t get over it.” Eunjae’s words wavered towards the end, his voice falling into a slight whisper, that Deoksu couldn’t help but frown at. “It’s just...thoughts you know?”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” 

Both boys slipped into another state of silence, although Deoksu could tell silence was the exact opposite of what was going on Eunjae’s head, eyeing him in the reflection of the mirrors as he saw him nervously play with the hem of his shirt once again. 

“Can I ask…” the way Eunjae’s voice kept faltering made Deoksu frown, feeling like it was almost as if his friend wasn’t comfortable enough to speak his worries. “Never mind.”

Deoksu’s lips turned into a thin line, desperately fighting the urge to simply grab Eunjae and turn him around so the two could simply face each other and Deoksu could get a grasp of what was going on. 

“Want me to talk about why I’m here?”

Deoksu took note of how Eunjae’s hands stopped moving before his back straightened ever so slightly and he craned his neck in the slightest to turn towards the older.

“You want to talk about your problems? You?” 

“Hey, you don’t have to make it sound so weird!” Deoksu found himself letting out a small and short chuckle, watching as Eunjae shifted his body so the two were both now facing the mirror in front of them, not quite getting to the point of being face to face. “But maybe it’ll make you feel better?”

“Yeah...go ahead.” 

“Well, it all started when in a cold day in 1998-”

“Are you talking about your birth?”

“I was joking, trying to lighten the mood...probably not the best idea, sorry.” Deoksu’s cheeks tinged pink, shaking his head at his own antics even though Eunjae seemed like he could care less with the way he was nodding his head. 

“Actually, I just couldn’t sleep.”

“That...that happens a lot for you.” Eunjae commented quietly, his words masked with a tint of worry made Deoksu’s lips turn into the smallest smile. 

“It’s the thoughts, like you said. But it kind of varies. Some nights, it’s just simple things. Like, before a comeback or when we have schedules...I just get a lot of worries that don’t let me sleep. I don’t want to talk to you guys about it, because they’re my problems as the leader. My mind just goes so fast when it comes to those things, which is so weird because it’s not too serious, but it just gets my brain running and I feel like I have to find all the answers so I can stop worrying about it all before I can just...rest y’know?”

Deoksu took a small breath after he was done speaking. It was now his turn to crane his head down, wanting to avoid eye-contact all of a sudden, even though it was evident in his peripheral that Eunjae had ended up shifting his body completely to the point where he was now facing Deoksu. 

“And...the other thoughts?”

“Hmm?”

“You said it varies...right?”

“Right.” Deoksu’s voice grew quieter, a part of him simply wanting to get up and leave. The leader wasn’t one for talks like this, when it involved him being one to open up. He was fine giving the advice, listening in, and just being a support system for his friends. It was different when he was the one feeling like he needed all of that. It felt wrong. 

Deoksu was their leader. He was meant to be the glue that held the team together, not the one who needed help to keep it together. He was meant to be the figure of how everything was going to be alright for his members, not how everything could go wrong. He was meant to be someone the members could always lean on for anything, not the one who needed to lean on them.

Deoksu was their leader. 

He was supposed to be a source of help. 

Not one who was seeking help. 

“I get those thoughts too.” Deoksu couldn’t tell if Eunjae’s voice was that of a confession or one that was trying to sympathize, and it killed the former. “The ones before comebacks or when we’re promoting. They start really simple, I guess. Just worrying about everything going well, and pulling my weight. But, it...it gets worse overtime.”

Deoksu’s eyes looked up to finally meet his member’s, having the chance to take in the storm of emotions that ran rampant through his brown eyes. 

“I feel like I get...not obsessive but almost paranoid about it all. I get worried that even though I’m a lead vocal, I won’t even come close to being good enough to Yeonjin. I get worried that even though I’m not a main or lead dancer, that I’ll ruin how everything’s meant to look. I get worried that I’ll just let the public latch onto an issue and let them pick it apart. I get worried that I won’t be good enough compared to what I’ve done before.” 

Deoksu’s heart hurt when the first tears slipped down from the corners of Eunjae’s eyes, the younger had lost the confidence in order to maintain eye-contact, and had gone back to looking down and playing with his fingers as he confessed all his thoughts. 

The two have had talks about this same issue previously. Eunjae was someone who worried easily, way more than the other three of them. Trying to distract him before they went on stage had become a norm for the boys. Staying after a few times when they first learned their choreo so Deoksu could give Eunjae all the pointers he wanted was a way of life for them. However, Deoksu had never seen the younger look so torn apart. As if he was only moments away from falling apart from the hurt of his own mind. 

“But that’s not the only thing that’s bothering you, is it?” 

“No.” Eunjae’s voice cracked with hurt, allowing for Deoksu to throw away any type of hesitation in him and quickly move around to where he could comfortably grab onto Eunjae’s shoulders and bring the younger’s side into his chest. 

The silence attempted to creep back in between the two, but turned back around as Eunaje’s shaky breathes became a bit louder, his hands shooting up to wipe at his eyes as he tried turning his head to almost cover the pain etched onto his face in Deoksu’s torso. 

“Do you want to talk about it, buddy?” Deoksu’s words were gentle, his words smothered in hesitation, not wanting to say or ask the wrong thing. 

The only response Deoksu received was Eunjae simply shifting his body so he could be in a more comfortable position as he shook his head all while clinging onto Deoksu’s shirt. 

Deoksu expected that response, simply nodding while his hands moved to rub Eunjae’s back in a comforting manner. He knew he wanted to reassure the younger about his thoughts of being good enough as an idol. But he always knew there was something deeper lodged into Eunjae’s mind that was causing this, and if he could soothe both that pain and this one, he had to at least try. 

“Remember how I said the thoughts vary?” Deoksu questioned as he looked down to eye Eunjae’s head leaning against him as he nodded ever so slowly. “It’s ok if you don't want to talk about it, but sometimes when it gets too heavy and it almost feels unbearable, you have to promise me that you’ll talk to me. Or Yeonjin, or Chan, literally anyone you trust.”

Eunjae’s breathing had slowly gone back to normal, his hands were frantically reaching up to wipe away any tears that were rampantly cascading down his face. The younger simply nodded, Deoksu taking it as a sign of trying to take everything in. 

“Can we go home?”

Deoksu’s hands gently, and ever so slowly, pulling Eunjae off from his chest only to shift him around so they were face to face. 

“You have to promise me, Eunjae.”

The request lingered in the air as the two simply stared at each other, neither having expected this night to go as it did. Deoksu let out a breath before he inched forward, his forehead now touching Eunjae’s, bringing them closer. 

“Please. Promise me.”

“I promise.” 

The simple response was enough for Deoksu. 

There was a solid chance that it didn’t carry enough weight or any actual truth to his words, Eunjae could easily go back on his words if he wanted to. But Deoksu had grown enough love for Eunjae to simply believe those two words, and hold them close in his heart. 

Maybe Deoksu couldn’t quite get to the root of the ever spreading wildfire of pain that had ignited inside of Eunjae to make him come here and try to focus on overworking himself to distract from any thoughts that had plagued his mind. But Eunjae made a process in opening himself up. 

Deoksu couldn’t ask for anything more than Eunjae was willing to give. It didn’t mean he would stop trying to help his member. His friend. Deoksu simply acknowledged that it would take longer, and that was ok. 

“Want to sleep with me tonight?” Deoksu questioned as he got up from his spot on the ground and helped Eunjae stand up as well, his heart swelling as he took in his watery eyes and the few tear stains that had splattered across his cheeks. 

“Yeah...please.” Deoksu simply gave Eunjae a small smile as he wrapped an arm around the younger’s shoulders, pulling him to his side once again before they both made their way out of the practice room. 

Thoughts varied in severity and reasoning, Deoksu was well aware of this. 

Both boys had been bothered with the simple thoughts that seemed more suffocating than they should be. 

However, Deoksu’s worries lied in the thoughts that had often lingered in the back of his mind. The thoughts that didn’t make his brain run at 100mph to try and deal with. The thoughts that simply stayed there and refused to go away. The thoughts often made Deoksu leave their dorms in the dead of night and wandered into the lights of the city in hopes that the noise would be enough to quieten his worries. 

Deoksu knew and had become well-acquainted with the thoughts that made him dislike himself in ways he never knew was possible. 

Knowing this made it all the more worrying if Eunjae was also facing them. Deoksu couldn’t process the idea of one of his loved ones feeling the same way he did. So it didn’t take much for him to make a mental reminder to keep a closer eye on Eunjae in the following days. Whether it could lead to the younger opening up a bit more, or if the comfort of knowing someone cared would be enough. 

Deoksu would try.

He didn’t want a repeat of himself.

[notyetneedcoffee]

Long Distance Number

Part Four of the Calling Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Naughty, Naughty Smut!

“I want you to do something for me.” Bucky’s voice rumbled low in your ear as his arms wrapped around you from behind.  

“What would that be?” You ran your fingers though his hair.  

“While I’m on this trip.” He voice dropped an octave, his tongue slid along the edge of your ear. “You will not come unless I say you can.”

A shiver ran down your spine. He had evil plans. “Unless you say?”

“Yeah, Doll.” His hand playfully closed around your throat. “Follow the rules and I’ll reward you.”

“And if I don’t?” You smirked.

“Bad girls get punished.” He smiled at the shiver that ran down your body. “You agree?”

“Yes.” You breathed.

Bucky spun you around, captured your mouth, drinking down your kiss. Tongue swirling around yours. Teeth nipping at your lip. He breathed against your mouth. “The game starts now.”

His fingers rubbed against your crotch. His tongue slid along the skin behind your ear. He wrapped around you. Bucky’s hard body radiated heat. He smelled amazing.  

“You’re just teasing me.” You whined. He chuckled. “So mean.”

“I gotta leave in a few minutes.”

You rocked up onto your toes, kissing him. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Be a good girl.”

You arched a brow at him. He laughed.

“Or not, and face the consequences.”

Bucky pulled you roughly to him for one more thorough kiss. It left your lips swollen, panties wet. He cupped your face in his hand. Staring into your eyes, a mixture of intense emotion and burning desire. Soft lips covered your, tender and sweet.

“Be safe.” You whispered.

He smiled. “Stay at the Tower at my place. I’ll be calling.”

o o o o o

Working in the lab, you nearly got the thought of Bucky’s body pressed against yours out of your mind. Then the text messages began. The first was a photo a close up of just his mouth, tongue touching the corner of his pink lips. A few hours later another photo came through. This time it focused on that delicious notch of his Adonis belt and his unbuckled tac pants. Fuck.

You called as soon as you got to Bucky’s apartment. “You’re so mean.”

His rich laughter filled your ear. “Want to make sure you don’t forget me, Doll.”

“How could I?” You purred. “I still have the bite mark you left on my hip.”

“Mmm, luscious.” Bucky rumbled. “You’re stayin’ at my place, right?”

“I’m here now.”

“Good.” He sounded far too pleased with himself.

“Why?” You dragged the question out.  

“Just want to make sure my girl is taken care of when I’m not there.” You could hear the smile on his face.  

“You sending Sam over?” You teased.

“Not. Funny. Doll.”  

You giggled.  

“Mean, you’re just mean.” He chuckled when you made a kiss noise to him. “I’ve got to get going. Time to stop bad guys. Sweet dreams, Doll.”

“Kick their ass, tough guy.” You sighed. “Miss you already.”

You got ready and then crawled into bed. That’s when it hit you. Bucky’s scent. The sheets, the pillows, everything smelled like him... like he rolled around in the sheets after being sweaty and wearing his cologne. You flipped over and buried your face in his pillow, breathing deep.  

That’s when your hand landed on the object under the pillow.  

Pulling it out you recognized the purple vibe Bucky confiscated from your apartment. Damn him. You rolled over, placing it on the nightstand.  

Lying in bed you tried to not think about Bucky’s body, sweat on his skin. The taste of licking it off his chest. The smell of him enveloping your senses. Wetness slicked between your legs. You flopped over, pulling the pillow closer. It didn’t help. Thighs rubbing together.  

Your fingers drifted down to feel the sensitive bud of your clit, the wetness of your folds. The image of Bucky naked and sweaty, touching you, flamed your need. Your hands moved with more insistence. Damn him. He knew exactly how to push your buttons. Ugh. You would not give in so easily.

Sighing heavily, you to up and moved to the sofa. Maybe you could doze off watching something boring on television.  

o o o o o  

The phone buzzed at one in the morning. You picked up the phone, opening a picture of Bucky’s hand disappearing under a very tented sheet. The message said, ‘someone wants to say good morning.’

‘And you call me the mean one?’ You responded.

‘Being a good girl?’

‘Always.’

‘Mmm. I’m going to take care of this and think about just how GOOD you are. Go back to sleep, Doll.’

‘Asshole.’

‘Sweet dreams.’

o o o o o  

Bucky Barnes stood a step behind Steve Rogers and a bit to the left. The team gathered around the Security Minister and the heads of the Anti-Terrorism Committee of the UN. The team were briefing the authorities on the organization recently discovered to be creating weapons from Chitauri technology. Tony and Natasha presented most of the data.  

The phone in Bucky’s pocket vibrated for the fourth time in ten minutes. It was a distinctive triple buzz. Nearly undetectable, only Steve seemed to notice. He glanced over his shoulder at his friend. Bucky’s eyes remained locked straight ahead, but the corner of his mouth quirked up.  

“You understand, Mr. Stark, as much as we are appreciative of your assistance,” the dark haired politician tapped his pen on the table. “You have to understand our concern at your presence. It tends to be accompanied by a certain level of destruction.”

“We promise to only blow up the buildings you don’t like.” Tony smiled.  

“Tony.” Steve muttered.

“We will funnel all information to you. Anything that can be handled by local authorities, we will defer to you, of course.” Natasha smiled passively.  

“Very well.” The gentleman across the table sighed. “Thank you for meeting with us. We appreciate your candor.” She stood, extending her hand. “We won’t take up any more of your day.”

As a group they made their way to the helipad on the roof, Bucky’s pocket buzzed again. He fought to keep back the smile. It had been six days of teasing one another and you were getting desperate.  

Steve leaned his head a little closer, honestly a bit concerned. “She’s being persistent. Maybe its something important. She might need you. You’re not going to check your phone?”

Bucky shrugged as they all stepped into the elevator. He and Steve were pressed to the back. Pulling the phone from his pocket, he opened the string of text messages from you. Not reading, or looking in order, his smile widened at the last message.

“You might be right, pal. What do you think?” He whispered, angling the phone for Steve to see.

Steve glanced down, seeing a close up shot of your legs spread, barely covered by the sheet, hand buried between them curved up and obviously busy with your cunt. Steve blushed to the top of his head, swallowing hard and eyes darting away.

Bucky chuckled. Tony turned around to see his smirk and Steve’s extreme blush. His eyebrow quirked. “Have something to share with the class, Barnes?”

“Nope.” The ‘p’ popped.  

As the group climbed into the quinjet on the roof, Bucky plopped down in the rear seat and eagerly gave his phone his full attention.  

‘Can’t sleep. Woke up thinking about that mission footage of you. Fucked me up.’

‘Seeing you wrapped up in all that leather, moving with that fucking strut. Damn sexy. Please promise if I’m a bad girl you’ll stalk me like that. You can punish me any way you want.’

Bucky shifted in his seat, growing hard at the idea of you being a naughty girl.

‘Miss you so much, I’ve started stealing your stuff.’

He opened the picture to see you in nothing but a black lace thong and one of his thigh sheaths. The photo cut off just a the bottom of your bare breast and ended where you knelt on the bed. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.  

‘What if disobeyed? Is it really my fault when you left my favorite toy under the pillow?’

Bucky bit his lip to hold back a growl. They’d better get back to the hotel soon.  

‘What if I have it out right now? It’s not your magnificent cock, but it does make me come. Will you punish me then?’ It was followed by the photo he’d shown Steve. Oh shit, he realized you had that pretty purple vibrator all the way in your cunt.  

He typed back. ‘You’re lucky I can’t talk right now, because you’d get a proper tongue lashing, Doll.’

‘You can do more than that to me with your tongue.’

‘Naughty girl. I’m going to take you over my knee and spank that pretty ass of yours until it’s pink. Then I’m going to make sure that sweet cunt aches before you get any release. I’m going feast on you until beg me to let you come.’

‘Oh shit.’

‘Are you fucking yourself with that toy? Is it slippery with your juices?’

‘Yes.’

‘Bad girl.’ Bucky licked his lower lip. He really wanted to hear you.

‘Fuck, want you.’

“We’re landing, kids.” Tony announced. “Listen, go change and meet in my suite for the briefing in twenty.”

‘Doll, don’t you dare come. I’ll call in just a minute.’

‘Bucky.’  

‘Be a good girl. You can rub those beautiful tits, pinch those luscious nipples, but keep your hands off your pussy until I call.’ As an after thought, Bucky sent one more text. ‘You can leave the toy in your cunt.’

Before the jet landed, Bucky was unstrapped and at the door. As soon as the system allowed, he slapped it open and bolted for his room. Dialing along the way, he heard the phone ring as he stepped through the door.

“Buck.” You breathed.

“Doll, you tell me where your hands are right now.” His voice was low, demanding.

It went straight to your core. “On my tits.” You breathed. “My pussy is so wet, though.”

“Good girl, but you’ve been bad while I’ve been away. Haven’t you?” He pulled at his pants, getting his hand around his cock.  

“I haven’t come yet.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Doll.” He breathed. “When I get back, you’re gonna get punished.”

“How?” You moaned, not being able to help yourself, sliding the toy in and out along your g spot.

“I can hear you,” He growled. “You got your hands on that sweet cunt.”

“Mm-hmm”

“I’m going to do more than spank that cute ass. I’m going to tie you down. Fuck that pretty mouth of yours. Tease you clit until your drenched. You’re gonna beg me to let you come but you are not allowed until I say.” He pumped his cock, imagining you tied down and writhing.  

“Yes.” Turned the intensity up on the vibe and rubbed it over your clit. “Shit, Bucky.”

“I’m going bite and mark up your nipples until you beg me to fuck you more.”

You pinched your flesh, imagining his teeth. A moan escaped.  

“Gonna take that fucking toy of yours and torture you with it, press it to clit on high, while I fuck you hard.” He panted, hips rocking into his own hand.  

Your mewls and pants grew desperate. “Can I?”

“No!” He barked. “You. Will. Wait.”  

“But…”

“Stop. Now.” He ordered harshly. Then Bucky purred, “I’ll be home in seventeen hours. When I get back, I’ll make it all worth it.”

“Bucky, please…”

“No. Be waiting for me.”

“I’ll be here.”  

Bucky threw down the phone, imagining your battle to step back from the edge, picturing you so close, practically tasting you on his tongue. Hand pumping hard, he came across his chest.

o o o o o  

Sixteen hours and forty two minutes later Bucky walked into his apartment. The light in bedroom was on. He found you laying on your stomach, wearing simple white cotton bikini panties and one of his beaters. Damn, he’d rather have that over some lacy get-up any day.

You bit your lip and kicked your feet. “Hey.”

“Hey, back” Bucky dropped his bag and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over to kiss you thoroughly.  

“I was good.”

“Were you?” He ran his hand through your hair. “Because I’m hearing an awful lot of bad in that voice.”

“Are you now?”  

“Yeah,” Bucky pulled you closer, but instead of setting on his lap, he flipped you over belly down.

Gasping, you struggled a little. He held you firm. His hand slid over your ass checks, down the back of your thighs. The sound that came from his chest was almost a purr. “So pretty.”

Smack! You jumped when his hand came down over your ass. Smack! Smack! His fingers slid aside the cotton and slipped along your soaked opening. “So wet already.”

“Hold still.” Bucky pulled the knife from his boot sheath. You felt you heart pound in your chest. The cold flat of the blade touched your skin, making you shiver. He sliced the panties and tank to shreds, so they fell off you. The process left you quivering in his lap.

He slipped the knife back, before picking you up and placing you back on the bed. His eyes were dark, intense. “I told you I was going to tie you up, Doll.”

“Yes.” You breathed.

“You gonna have a problem with that?” His hand slid over your skin, causing shivers.  

“No.”

A wicked smile crossed his face. Form one of his utility pockets he produced a length of cord. He yanked the pillowcase free and wrapped it around your wrists to protect the skin before knotting the cords and binding your arms to the headboard.  

You waited for him to undress, but Bucky left on the tactical gear. He stood looking down at you, naked and at his mercy. Heat pooled between your legs, desperate after the days of denial. He inhaled deep through his nose. Licked his lips. Fuck. He was predatory.

He leaned over, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. Your back arched up off the mattress. He attacked your tits with mouth and teeth, making you squirm. His metal hand spread wide over you pelvis, hold you down. The tip of his middle finger rubbing on your clit.

“Oh, fuck!”

His mouth crashed down upon yours, stealing your breath. He growled into moan as his hand delved between your legs. He pumped hard and quick. Your climax building insanely fast. Coiling, desperate, keening, you chased release.

Then he was suddenly gone.  

“Oh, shit! Buck! Please!”

He stood back again, smirking. Damn him. With painful slowness, he began to unbuckles straps and strip away layers. Finally he peeled off the skin tight under armor shirt, and you involuntarily licked your lips. Bare chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, abs tight, that led down to where you eyes settled. Delicious. 

Bucky loosed his pants, released his cock. He loomed over you, stroking himself. “Open up.”

He gave you a moment to lick at the head, as he held himself close, teasing. When you wrapped your mouth around him, a low growl rumbled from his chest. Fucking your mouth, he knew how far he could push. Making you hum and your eyes water, but not gagging.  

Praising words fell from his lips. “So fucking good. Damn, beautiful. Ah, shit, you’re so fucking sexy.”

The smell of him, masculine and distinctly Bucky, mixed with leather and sweat. Saliva dripped down your chin. Hands pulled at your bindings, wanting to grab his ass. Legs rubbed together, so desperate for release you were practically out of your mind.

Bucky pulled away, leaving you gasping. “Please, oh Bucky, please.”

“Please what, Doll?” He walked around to the other side of the bed.

“Fuck me.”

He leaned over brutally kissing you again. He trailed hot wet kisses over you sensitive and abused breasts, down you belly. You began to pant uncontrollably. One hand touched your thigh and your legs fell open wide, wanting.

“So pretty,” he breathed over you hypersensitive flesh just before lapping at you. His tongue tore a scream from you, but he pulled away immediately.

“Oh shit, please, please, Bucky, fuck, please,” you chanted.

He finally stripped away the last of clothes before crawling up between your legs. Settling his knees to either side of you ass, he pulled you ankles up over his shoulder. Sliding his fingers through your folds, they came away slick and dripping. He licked his fingers. “Never seen you so wet.”

“Please,” you begged.

A buzzing sound made you moan and your eyes close. Holy shit, the exquisite torture. You felt the vibrating touch to your clit and it made your entire body jerk. Bucky slid two fingers into you, gently stroking and rubbed the vibrator to you again.  

“Oh fuck!”

“Don’t you come until I say so, Doll.” He growled. “I mean it.”  

Panting, mewling, trying to breath as your climax built higher and higher. It was too much. “Bucky!”

“No!” He pulled the vibe away. Fuck. You were going to die. The head of his cock rubbed against you. He touched the vibe to your clit again, barely pressing the tip in your entrance, teasing you mercilessly. You to shake, approaching the crest again. He stopped. Dropping the vibe. You were definitely going to die.

“Bucky.” You whined. 

Oh, please. Bucky sunk into inch by agonizing inch. He shook with the effort to control himself. You quivered at the stretch, the fullness. He pulled out out, slamming in, pushing another scream from your lungs.

“Please!”

Fingers dug into your hips. Skin slapped on skin. He growled. You couldn’t hold back. Your whole body trembled. His voice rumble out low and ragged. “Come for me.”  

You whited out. All the tension exploding. Every nerve lit up. You flooded over his cock, cunt squirting, squeezing and he pounded harder. Rolling, roiling, it kept going. Arms pulling at the ties, legs shaking uncontrollably. Bucky’s hip ground deep as he spent himself.

Only then did you begin to come down. Micro-spasms shot across your body. Tears leaked from you eyes. You were boneless. Breathless.

Senses coming back to him, Bucky crawled over you on all fours, releasing your hands. He kissed the inside of your wrist tenderly. Then he notice the wet trails from you still closed eyes. Soft lips pressed to the corner of you eye.

“Y/N?” He nuzzled you without putting any weight on you. He whispered. “Doll, did I hurt you?”

“No, oh no, Bucky.” You pulled at him so he’d lie down so you would be anchored by his body. “Overwhelmed. Holy hell, that was so intense.”

He rolled to the side, pulling you with him. A wicked smirk grew across his face. “That is was. We need to change the bedding.”

You giggled, pressing your face into his chest. “You single handedly set the bar for long distance foreplay. I needed to come so bad. Drove me out of my mind.”

“Mission accomplish.” He laughed.  

You would have kissed him, but you still couldn’t move. Damn, he was perfect.

TAGS:

@the-omni-princess, @theneuropsychwriter, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @lbouvet, @geeksareunique

If you would like to be added to my tags, removed, or have a story request, please message me!

[p4lparker]

Lose Myself

I grabbed my books from my locker and shoved them roughly into my bag- this day had been awful! Freaking Harris had been a huge pain in my ass- he constantly called me out to answer his stupid chem. questions; questions I had no idea about, because the numbers in the chemical equation made no sense to me- they were all jumbled as usual, and his constant need to belittle me was seriously infuriating. I think the only way I managed to not concoct a Molotov cocktail and throw it straight into that douche bag’s  face; was the fact that Stiles was sat next to me. The adorable dork drew a picture of an anchor on a piece of paper before sliding it over to me- to remind me, remind us both, we could keep ourselves grounded- we could help each other stay grounded. The next bit of paper that was shoved into my peripheral was a note; My house later, I need to kick your sorry ass at Mortal Combat. The small note made me grin, for a few reasons; the foremost being he was going to try to cheer me up from my shitty day- no matter if he already had crap to do- he’d ditch those plans to help me, the other reason was the fact that he thought he could actually kick my ass.

         My other classes were also pretty terrible, I continued to sulk and slam my possessions around until Stiles slid into view- leaning against the locker next to my own. His grin was plastered on to his innocent face- being all infectious and almost, almost, making an identical grin claim my own sour features.

“Okay, you ready? Or do you want to beat up on your bag and books some more?” Stiles questioned, his voice only mildly unsure; showing that he was slightly scared of my reaction. I just rolled my eyes and slammed my locker door shut, grabbing his arm I led him out to his jeep and waited for him to get the hint. He grinned and unlocked the vehicle allowing us both to slide in and buckle up as bags were thrown haphazardly into the back seat.

Stiles focused his attention on the road, as I focused mine on finding a song to distract me. I settled on some random song, I didn’t recognise and sat back- lounging in the well-worn seat. The drive to the Stillinski residence took little to no time- the unrecognised song I played had quickly changed to yet another song I couldn’t recall the name of; Stiles though was mouthing along to the words quite happily, he tapped the beat out on the steering wheel as he continued to focus on the road. Which was a feat in itself; the weather had decided to take a turn for the worst pelting the windshield with heavy rain- I decided then at that moment that I had completely chosen the wrong outfit. Stiles continued to drive to his home- a drive which upsettingly didn’t last too long at all, in no time at all we were pulling up to the sidewalk; Stiles cut off the engine and looked to the skies as if cursing the sudden weather changes. I sighed as I knew we’d have to eventually leave the safe and dry confines of the jeep. Turning my face towards Stiles, a frown marring my features I held my tongue waiting for him to take charge- his face took on a matching expression.

“Okay- I’ll grab the bags from the back, while you make a mad dash for the door and unlock it, then I’ll run like Gump!” Stiles commanded in a serious tone of voice with a look of sheer determination holding his features now; I smirked at his reference before giving him a mock salute of understanding. I took a long deep breath before unbuckling my confining seat-belt and shoving the door of the jeep open, jumping out and slamming the door shut behind me; I began to run towards the door, ready to unlock it and enter- I came to an abrupt stop in front of the door it wasn’t until I was standing in front of it expectantly that I realised I didn’t in fact have the keys. Growling as I turned on my heel and prepared myself to run back out into the torrential downpour which had become more and more frustrating. I jogged back to the jeep and watched as Stiles ventured to the front carrying all of the bags; my oversized satchel hand-baggy type thing which Lydia insisted I buy as it complimented my new style perfectly, his own back pack and lacrosse bag all balanced precariously upon his arms- which I could see straining in an impressive way, they also seemed to be more muscular than I remembered them being and I struggled to tear my eyes from them.

It was at that precise moment that I realised neither of us were moving. Meaning we were both stood still, getting more and more soaked as the water pouring from above saturated us- I watched in avid fascination as Stiles juggled the bags; his arms continuing to flex and strain, my eyes were fixated as I watched the muscle twitch and writhe as if for my own visual pleasure- it took a few seconds to realise what Stiles was actually trying and failing to achieve. The keys just out of reach of his beautiful and teasingly long fingers, as the aforementioned objects were buried so deeply within the confines of his front jeans pocket. I decided now was as good a time as any to rip my eyes away from their activity of appraising Stiles’ and his physique- I stepped towards him, and took matters into my own hands- literally. Raising my hand to let it rest on his soggy t-shirt clad chest- gaining his attention to tell him to chill, I trailed my hand to the front pocket of his jeans.  I let my eyes flicker up to meet his own chocolaty gaze which was widened. I continued to hold his gaze as I slid my hand into his pocket and began the search for the cool metal which was a tell-tail sign of his keys- it seemed like his eyes widened even more, if that was even possible.

I found the keys easily enough, but I ceased my actions of pulling them free from their entrapment- instead choosing to watch the way Stiles’ face contorted into different expressions. His eyes roaming around my face, focusing on my lips before dropping lower; I felt as his breathing seemed to become slightly hitched and noticed as his jeans seemed to feel slightly more snug around my hand which grasped the solid collection of keys.  I watched as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and began to gnaw on it before clamping down on it hard as I shifted my hand, trying to remove it from his pocket. I watched in interest as his eyes seemed to become darker- as he stared at one fixed point on my person; my chest. I felt my brows furrow in confusion before the answer and realisation hit me full force like a tonne of bricks- it almost felt like I’d run metaphorically into a cinder block wall! Stiles’ unwavering and glazed eyes were focused solely on my sodden and see-through blouse; which due to it’s drenched state was allowing the creamy lacy bra I had on beneath  to be revealed and visually devoured by the man in front of me.  We both stood there, frozen in that moment; ignoring the rain pounding down on us. Ignoring the fact that we were steadily and surely getting more drenched as the seconds passed by. I knew I didn’t want to move my body all that much, as I felt a familiar warmth spread through my body and settle in my lower stomach- beginning to drip it’s way into my core. I dragged my bottom lip into my mouth, biting it sharply as Stiles had his own.

A car zooming past seemed to break us both from our hormone riddled and driven moment. I blinked and shook my head slightly, remembering why I had my hand buried in Stiles’ pocket to begin with; I gripped the keys before extricating them from his person and stepping away quickly as I let the moment crash to a sudden halt. I ran towards the door and successfully unlocked it, turning to beckon Stiles in also. I abruptly met his chest with my face as he was already standing close behind me. I stifled the gasp and stepped back into the home. I waited until Stiles had dropped the bags and closed the door before handing him the keys for him to lock it. I wordlessly walked to the kitchen and grabbed us both a bottle of soda from the well-stocked fridge, throwing one to him quickly and soundlessly- Stiles caught it effortlessly and undid the cap, taking a long swig of the carbonated drink. His gaze never left me as he continued to drink, I looked away first feeling slightly awkward standing in an uncalled for staring competition.

“Is it cool if I grab a shower and stuff?” I asked, breaking the silence which had encompassed us. I didn’t get a verbal confirmation; instead Stiles gave a jerk of his head, I returned his terse nod and wandered upstairs to his room and then to his bathroom. I closed the door behind me before turning to the shower and twisting the lever until the water began a steady flow- the steam slowly but surely filing up to room. I shed my soggy clothes when the water was warm enough and jumped under the flowing water; allowing the soothing water to cascade down my body, I quickly lathered up my body washing away the grime from the day and shampooed my hair. I finished my shower quickly, not wanting to waste any of the water or run up the Stilinski’s water bill. Once I ensured the water was shut off properly I left the confines of the shower cubicle and searched for a nice fluffy towel, the search didn’t last for too long thankfully- and I was able to wrap myself in a soft and deliciously snuggly towel, drying off quickly- and securing the towel around my chest. I ventured out of the small bathroom and entered the main bedroom; upon my re-entry  Stiles’ room, I spotted him sitting at the edge of his bed- staring directly at the door I’d just walked through, and directly at me. I don’t know what it was, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it; but something was different, something felt different.

It was in that brief moment, as I looked at him; really looked at him I could see he was different. Stiles, my Stiles was conflicted and tired; just so damned tired. I knew for a fact that he was barely sleeping; too many nightmares since saving his dad, since sacrificing himself- the terror that plagued his slumber kept him awake and too frightened to close his eyes. Those thoughts and images were taking their toll on him- the only time I’d known him not to wake himself screaming was whenever he napped or accidently fell asleep as we watched a movie. I felt myself worry my bottom lip as I continued to stare at him and his tired eyes seem to focus solely on me. I found it too much; I couldn’t look at him without feeling at fault somehow. I needed to make more time for him; for us to watch movies or something, just time for him to sleep and regain the parts of his personality which were almost missing. It was me who eventually looked elsewhere; my gaze landing on the bowl of too hot popcorn and the pile of movies beside it. Stiles must have noticed my change of focus.

“I thought we were gonna game tonight?” I asked, an eyebrow raised, one hand raised to keep my towel secure around my chest and the other raised to point at the collection of movies and the treats.

“Change of plan. I thought a movie night would be more fun. I’m gonna jump in the shower. You can change, I’m pretty sure you have some clothes left in my closet; pick a movie while I’m in there?” Stiles muttered as he slipped past me- I turned and watched him as he closed the door; his face looked confused and conflicted and there was something else, something I couldn’t name lurking in his eyes.

The door closing with a soft click pushed me to turn and search for some clothes and to pick a movie as requested. I ventured to the closet and searched through it; finding a section of the hanging space cordoned off simply for my; shirts and hoodies, a pair of sweats were neatly folded on the floor in a space cleared from his own bottoms. I don’t know what touched me about that; that image of my clothes sharing the space of his closet, but something did- and it was almost like it should be like that, it felt right to see our clothes hanging together. I shook my head to stop that train of thought before it left the station. I abandoned my task and decided to make a movie selection instead, I perused the titles Stiles had gathered and smiled at the usual suspects; Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Iron Man and American Pie. All of the series Stiles would use as ‘go to’ selections- one’s he’d always hope to watch. I grabbed the Iron Man series; cause I was a sucker for Robert Downey Junior.

I meandered back over to the closet and let my eyes drift over the sheer amount of plaid Stiles actually owned; it was vaguely unsettling to see it all bunched here together like this, I let my fingers graze over the collected softness. My eyes were drawn towards a familiar and particular shirt; it’s bright colour was so fantastically Stiles I struggled to keep the smile from forming on my lips. I let my hand trail to the shirt, feeling almost welcomed by the memorable fabric; I pulled it gently from it’s hanger and held the fabric in my hands, before pulling it onto my dry and cooling body. Fastening most of the buttons, leaving the top two undone; I realised my underwear was currently situated in the bathroom with Stiles- my bra probably still soggy, but hopefully drying and my underwear dry but not on my person. I dropped the towel and placed it in the hamper ready for when I’d do the laundry for them at the weekend. I was just looking over my reflection in the mirror; ensuring that all of the necessities were covered until I could retrieve my missing clothing- when the door opened, Stiles walking out already dry and wearing sweat pants which hung distractingly low on his slim hips.  His chest was bare, and his hair was dripping rivulets of water down his neck, to his shoulders, to his chest and lower. Lower until it dripped into the toned muscle of his stomach and further down; meeting the thin thatch of hair comprising his happy trial. Stiles cleared his throat, causing me to meet his eyes; my own slightly wide as if I was a rabbit in headlights- he’d caught me ogling him like he was a piece of meat!

“Are you wearing my shirt?” Stiles asked quietly; his eyes staring straight at the fabric which was the only thing covering my body from his gaze. I felt the blush cover my cheeks as his gaze lingered, I didn’t trust my voice so instead I just nodded. Stiles’ gaze was still locked on the shirt, he cleared his throat nodding as if he were distracted. I nodded my head as if to end the not-quite conversation, I walked to the bathroom quickly and collected my underwear before yanking it on unceremoniously underneath the shirt.  When I walked back out Stiles had decided put a shirt on, he was sat comfortably on his bed; his back leaning against the wall already watching the millionaire genius work in the movie. The room was silent and sombre; it was as if the terrors Stiles faced in his sleep were now forcing themselves into his waking life.

I decided it was time to change up this funky mood we were both in; leaning against the door frame I smiled at him as he looked in my direction- I returned his smile with a grin. Before lunging forward and throwing myself on to his bed causing him to bounce from his position. The silence was suddenly broken by Stiles’ raucous laughter; it was boisterous, loud and beautiful- like music to my ears. I missed this sound, it warmed my heart so completely. As he continued to laugh he knocked the bowl of pop-corn over and it’s contents went flying all over his navy blue bed-spread and the both of us. It wasn’t long before I had joined in with his humour, our laughter soon drowned out the noise coming from the movie playing in front of us. As our laughter died down a little I did an impression of Stiles bouncing round and knocking the popcorn over; an impression which was incredibly accurate, flailing arms and all- which resulted in a handful of pop-corn being thrown at me. A gasp tore from my throat as my laughter ceased- a grin still on my face, Stiles on the other hand laughed louder and harder- his hands actually grasping his stomach, as if physically holding himself together, attempting to control the mirth he was now slave to.

Sitting up on my knees, I watched as he continued to chortle- deciding enough was enough. I ran my fingers over his neck, smirking as his laughter became more desperate and bordered hysterical, the more I continued to tickle him. His body became uncontrolled and his movements quickly became more jerky as he desperately tried to wriggle free from my tickling torture. I quickly batted one of his jerking legs away from my head as he almost kicked me in his twitchy state. Once his leg was settled back on the bed and away from the general vicinity of my face; I threw my own leg over his waist; settling my weight onto his hips. Throughout this body re-arrangement, Stiles was busy laughing and trying to grab my merciless fingers as they continued their assault.

His laughter was ringing out loud and proud; it was warming my heart, and felt like it was warming my entire being, his hysterical chortles soon turned to scream-like peels of laughter as they ripped from his grinning mouth. My own laughter was still ringing out, mixing with his own and the sounds coming from the movie playing; it created a cacophony of noise, which the neighbours surely heard. I was too distracted by the mass of sounds surrounding me to notice that Stiles had finally managed to grab hold of my tickling fingers- pulling them abruptly from his neck as he swiftly sat up, me still firmly seated in his lap. I noticed all too late that his grinning face was suddenly inches from my own, my laughter silenced as it caught in my throat at suddenly being so close to him. I could see a glint in his mocha coloured eyes, sparkling and shining brightly as he stared at my shocked face- instead of just grinning, his face took on a look of triumph. I gasped, suddenly realising how we were sat; him holding my hands captive as I straddled him to his bed. My legs either side of waist, my weight resting firmly on his hips and lap- my fingers gripped in Stiles’ firm grasp.

I watched- my gaze wide and my lips open as Stiles’ triumphant grin was replaced by a smirk before dropping from his features altogether, as he too began to realise and take note of our current position. I stared as his eyes dropped to somewhere lower on my face- my lips beginning to tingle as if they knew they were his sole focus. My breathing hitched, as his pink tongue darted out to moisten his lips- before quickly closing the miniscule gap between us and pressing them softly against my own. My eyes widened a fraction- before slipping shut. It was a barely there kiss, just his lips gently pressing against my own, a barely there pressure. But it felt like much, much more. It was as if the air suddenly changed around us, becoming charged, like a spark was crackling around us. Then just as I was about to throw caution to the wind- and really kiss him, kiss him like I meant it. I felt him move slightly back from me, my eyes were still closed- so I didn’t see his expression, my lips were still slightly puckered- left wanting more and tingling with anticipation. I opened my eyes to see Stiles staring, waiting and trying to gauge my reaction. He must have struggled to figure me out, because in those few seconds it took for me to figure out; he had indeed kissed me, and that I wanted him to do it some more. Stiles had pushed himself away. A blush and a frown collecting themselves on his face- taking one hand from my wrist, he raised it to rub at the back of his neck nervously, he stopped his nervous tick shortly and took- instead to blinking anxiously.

         I shook my head, still trying to collect my thoughts. Finding it increasingly difficult. My lips were tingling, I tried to bite them to make the sensation cease; though that did nothing but make the feeling worse. I clenched the fingers of my unhindered right hand, before finally deciding ‘To hell with it’. Raising it to grab the back of his neck and yanking his face unceremoniously towards my own, if this were to be witnessed by another; it would seem aggressive, violent and possibly as if I was trying to initiate some sort of facial battle. I realised I wasn’t paying all that much attention to what was actually happening, it wasn’t until I felt Stiles push himself closer to me again did I become invested.

         His lips were soft and inviting, as they pressed against my own- there was much more pressure this time as I was still forcefully gripping his neck and crushing his face to my own. To soon I realised I wanted, no needed more.

More contact.

More pressure.

More Stiles.

I gently turned my head slightly to allow for better access; opening my lips and melding them to his. Moving them perfectly in sync, tasting more of him. I felt him return the favour, his lips parting to allow him more of a hint of me. With my lips already parted, I could dip my tongue out to run across his lips. My request for entrance to his mouth was granted fairly quickly- I slithered my tongue in, seeking more of a taste of him, dipping it inside his mouth and exploring this new territory.

The groan that echoed around the room, also vibrated trough my chest; I had made him groan. I smirked; my body moving of it’s own accord, pushing my lips more forcefully- if that was even possible- against his own, my hand smoothing up his neck until it was thrust deep within the hair at the base of his head. His other hand released my wrist and both secured themselves at my waist; fisting and bunching the fabric of his shirt, all the while tugging me closer. My hips began to roll and rub and grind down on his own. Searching for the friction I needed so desperately. A moan flew from my lips at the sensation and what sounded almost like a growl leaving that of Stiles’.

The kiss progressed, hands wandered and before I knew it; I felt light-headed from the lack of oxygen. I pried my lips from Stiles’, but he needed more contact- his own trailing down my jaw to the sensitive column of my neck. His kisses were sloppy and rough; his teeth nipping and tongue laving over the skin. My own bottom lip was drawn between my teeth, in an attempt to keep my moans and whimpers silent as delicate skin was given such sultry attention. My hands found their way to the hem of his shirt; tugging and pulling impatiently, hoping to give him the hint to remove the offensive fabric now! I needed MORE!

The shirt was yanked over his head quickly; the message received loud and clear. His hands began to tug up my own borrowed shirt; completely ignoring the buttons that was keeping it fastened together. Soon enough it was pulled gently from my frame and thrown haphazardly somewhere behind Stiles. He took this opportunity to let his eyes trail over the newly revealed flesh; my eyes doing the same and devouring the sight before me. His pale skin was smooth and almost hairless, apart from that trail of hair that led to unchartered territories. His dark eyes, now almost black in colour- stared directly at what was hinted to him earlier; his jaw dropping slightly. I could feel my cheeks flame under his scrutiny; so to distract his gaze, I gently placed one of his hands on my bare breast- squeezing it at a pressure which caused a moan to slip past my lips, with my other hand I gently slid it towards his sweatpants. Where an obvious reaction to what was happening was taking place- I slipped my hand over the top of his prominent and possibly painful bulge, palming him through his bottoms- feeling him become impossibly harder.

As he felt the pressure of my hand on his arousal, and his groped my breast he let out an animalistic growl; reminding me of the supernatural creatures we ran with, before diving into my neck and laving it with attention once more. After ensuring a mark would be left, purple and angry yet oh so pleasurable, he began a journey down my chest. Stopping to attend to kissing them passionately, before continuing down my body. He reached my hips, his lips skimming over my stomach and the centre of my panties- where a patch of wetness was extremely visible, allowing him to know I was as turned on and aroused by the events taking place as he was. He looked up towards my face; our eyes locking, his cheeks were slightly pink, his lips glistening and I was assuming my own looked similar.

“C..can I try something? Its something I’ve watched, in porn obviously cause I’m not some creeper who peeps through people bedroom windows- not that the bedroom is the only place you can have sex in.. Not that I’m assuming we’re automatically going to have sex.. But if we are, I’d be totally fine with that.. cause I’m me and you’re.. well you! And gahhh! I wanna taste…” Stiles let out in one big breathe, mumbling towards the end and almost whispering that very last part; as if to scared to acknowledge what was so obviously going to happen between us. He was obviously nervous, as was I; but my need to feel more. My need for him was almost to the point I felt I would explode if I didn’t get more.

More him.

More skin.

More pleasure.

I just smiled and nodded my head, almost too eagerly. Sucking in a breathe as he smirked and winked at me before licking a stripe up the centre of my underwear. His nimble fingers pried my panties from my hips and slid them down my legs, until I was finally left bare before him. His lips found my thigh, before grazing open mouthed kisses towards the area I needed him most; his tongue poking out and tasting the skin underneath, his teeth soon joined the party skimming over the skin also- this only made me grunt and whine at the sensation and tension he causing me. I was about to complain- to tell him to get on with it already, until I felt his tongue licking a strip up my centre instead of my impatient urging leaving my lips a gasp was torn from them first.

I was soon too lost in the tsunami of joy and pleasure he was giving me to actually notice what his tongue was doing to me, it was all on big desire driven blur. Leading to a tightening in my stomach; which was almost unbearable until, suddenly, it wasn’t unbearable anymore as moans so loud left my throat- moans so loud they were embarrassing and sounded rather pornographic to be truthful. I could feel Stiles’ lips wrapping around my clit, dragging me through my orgasm and ensuring it lasted a good while before he chuckled. He sat back on his knees; looking directly at my grinning face before letting out a ‘whoop’ of joy, almost as if he himself was surprised he managed to do that- so smug that he’d managed to make me a moaning mess on his bed.

I breathed out a long breathe; giving him a thumbs up as a sign he did good and I was absolutely fan-fucking-tastic; before wrapping my legs around his waist and throwing my weight, causing us to roll allowing me to situate myself on top of him. I smirked at his gaping mouth; his breaths coming out heavier as my hips moved over his erection, I was in control now, and I could tell he was feeling more turned on by the way his large hands were gripping roughly at my hips- almost guiding my movements and pressing me down harder so our groins met grinding together furiously. I slithered my way down his body; kissing licking and biting, leaving my mark all over his delicious pale skin before tugging his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. Once he was bare in front of me, I found my eyes drawn to the mystery that had been contained in his pants; he was large, larger than I expected- I was almost worried how he’d fit, I was no virgin by any means, but Jesus. Stiles Stillinski- my best friend and soon to be bed mate; was hung as fuck.

I began to lower my face towards it, wanting to repay the favour; to see how large he was and if he would fit inside me in any sense of the word, and I simply wanted to wrap my lips around him and have him squirming and at my mercy. Just as my lips were about to make contact; I felt his hands grip my chin, pulling it up and silently informing me he wanted me. And he wanted me now; just to check, I watched him as he shook his head- continuing to pull me up his body. As one hand lightly gripped my throat in an erotic gesture the other groped clumsily with his bedside table. He let out a frustrated sigh, letting my throat go and pushing me back gently so he could sit up and search for the protection we needed more thoroughly. He continued to sigh, muttering something about “Trying to be sexy” as I let out a small chuckle. I assumed he finally found the condoms as he let out another very Stiles-like whoop- he ripped open the small foil package before slipping it on quickly pumping himself; one, two three times, almost teasing me that I wasn’t able to. Before leaning forwards, wrapping his large hand around my neck again and pulling me into a kiss that was full of teeth and biting.

I continued to move towards him until I was once again situated above him. Gripping him tightly in my hand- smirking as he let out a groan, I guided him towards my entrance and slipped him in partially. Before sinking down on to him quickly; allowing him to fill me and stretch me in the most delicious way as moans and growls were ripped from our throats at the pleasure and sensation rolled over both of us. I began rolling my hips against him when I was comfortable with his sheer size; slowly beginning to move up and down on him allowing him to slip in and out of me at a quicker pace.

I watched as his face morphed into one of sheer joy, his mouth open, eyes clenched shut. He was beautiful. Sweat beginning to bead upon his brow, his arms swiftly wrapping around my waist and twisting until he was hovering over me. One hand still pleasantly wrapped around my throat, holding me in place and allowing me to know who was in control as of that moment. I felt him smirk and thrust into me at a quick pace.

“Fuuuck! Stiles.. Faster..Harder Please!” I groaned out, hoping to find that euphoria which was steadily coming towards me. I felt him respond; his hand tightening slightly as his hips pistoned towards me; fucking directly into the bed. His growls only making this experience all the more pleasurable. I felt my finish coming, I knew it would happen and felt myself clench tightly around Stiles. Who let out a surprised whine and suddenly became still as he too met his end.

“Oh. My. God!. That was incredible, you were incredible. I just whew..” Stiles breathed into my neck, still trying to catch his breathe a couple of minutes later. I grinned, dragging my nails teasingly down his back- he pulled out achingly slow, almost making me wish he was still hard so we could go another round. He disposed of the protection, before wrapping his arms around my body and pulling m under the covers. His head found its way to my chest and his breaths soon matched my own as they became slower and more peaceful as sleep took us.

The last thought I had before I allowed slumber to conquer me, was focused mainly on how Stiles and I would act tomorrow morning once we were awake and facing each other naked and laid.

[laur-rants]

Transfiguration -- Ch 1: Awake

Fandom: Doom Rating: Mature, because violence against demons Pairing: Sam/Slayer [eventually] Summary: The Slayer has beaten the Icon of Sin, but the work is far from over. There is still much, MUCH to be done. Notes: Yeah. I said I’d write Doom fanfic. Why? Because it’s gay to travel between dimensions and realms just to meet back up with the demigod you helped create, and are determined to save humanity because of him. Anyway enjoy I don’t know what I’m even doing with this. *throws it into the void* AO3 Link Next Chapter

---------- "There is a common saying among the peoples of humanity; 'history is written by the victors.' It is one of their species's constants, a phrase found across the divides. Thus, it can be gleaned that regardless of realms, of region, that history is full of lies. Only those who lost their respective battles yet still managed to survive those considered to be the holders of the more accurate accounts of events. But how many survivors never tell the truth? How many live in fear, unable to share the knowledge they have born witness to?

"I refute being a fearful survivor. Though the 'victors' may say otherwise, I was advised to disappear by the Father himself, to run from my own species in order to save it. The words of prophecy have been set into motion; there are coming events even he cannot stop. I have seen the future, infallible now. The battle is lost, but not the war.

I am Samur. I am the holder of the witnessed truth. I will profess it to you as long as I am alive, and as long as I am able.

Father, if you are listening, please have mercy on my consciousness."

-- Book of the Maykr Samur, pt 1

When he wakes up, it is not in the bed he fell asleep in. He stares up at the bright white of a too-clean ceiling, hears the steady beep of machinery and -- voices, there were voices nearby. Too many for him to still be in the lonely fortress he calls home, a fact that is enough to clear any fog clouding his mind. In one swift movement he's sitting up, his body aching and protesting this sudden change in verticality but he ignores the pain entirely, legs swinging over the side of the bed in an effort to move.

One of the earlier voices shouts, clearer and sharper now-- definitely real and not like the fabrications he's used to. He ignores them for now nonetheless; more urgent is the machinery yelling at him from the bedside. He frowns, pulling off cords and sensors, highly disapproving of the medical gown he's found himself in. Damnit, where the fuck is my suit, he thinks, even as a doctor with black hair and green eyes behind jeweled glasses rushes over to put a hand on his chest and try and push him back down to a prone position.

"Ah, sorry, mister Slayer, sir," the doctor fumbles, trying and failing to even budge the man, the wall of muscle staying stubbornly in place. The aforementioned Slayer watches her take a step back, purse her lips, then push against him, a little more insistently. "I really need you to lay back down. You're already starting to bleed through your bandages."

He blinks and looks down through the smock; most if not all of his upper body was bandaged and wrapped. A particular wrapping on his left arm was indeed bleeding, the pain barely registering even as the splotch of red grows, spreading fast through the fabric. He lets out a small noncommittal noise (causing the doctor to jerk back suddenly in surprise) as he starts to unwrap the bandages himself. A group of nurses and medical staff immediately crowd into the room, urging the Slayer to please stop, to let them handle such work.

Sure enough, as the medical staff peel away the sticky fabric, a nasty gash is revealed, running from the top of his bicep to the underside of his arm all the way to the armpit. It had been sutured shut but as the Slayer had stood up it had easily popped open and was now bleeding freely. He looks to the rolls of soaked bandages, looks to his seeping arm, and appears... apologetic, of all things. The doctor sighs, gives the man known only as the Doom Slayer a quick look over, then fetches new bandages and sutures.

"You're probably wondering why you're here, and have a lot of questions." She looks over to him, expecting some sort of response-- but when he says nothing or doesn't refute her words, she clears her throat, pushing a lock of hair behind an ear. "Or perhaps not. Either way, we received a distress signal, and found your ship. You were in a rough state, possibly connected to the recent fight with the Icon of... Sin…"

She trails off as she sees the Slayer's face harden like stone. She coughs lightly a second time, the color rising to her cheeks. "Apologies. The original transmission was sent by Dr. Hayden himself, so ARC forces immediately responded -- but we did not expect to find you in an alien ship bleeding out on the floor, nor did we expect to see it powered by the Crucible, or to hear Hayden communicating from--" The doctor continued on, but the Slayer was far past the point of listening. Instead, his brow furrows, trying to recall what had happened post attack.

The fight itself had been a blur. The demons had fallen before his wrath and Dr. Samuel Hayden had been in his ear, egging him on until the end, when finally the Icon was there, the only obstacle still standing. It was only so long before the huge titan of Hell itself was falling to his might. He had stood tall, victorious, fueled by rage and adrenaline. And then Hayden had portaled him back... but from there, his memory begins to blur. How had he been injured, exactly? Surely he had at least made it back to his room before--

"Slayer? Sir?"

His eyes flick to the doctor and again his gaze is enough to make her flinch. His fist clenches before relaxing again. He sighs. He closes his eyes, steadying himself, before tilting his head at her in question.

Her throat clears. "You zoned out, my apologies. I wanted to let you know that your stitches are fixed and you're rebandaged. We recommend a few days bed rest -- you may not feel the pain and you will not die from the wounds but--" her eyebrows go up, shaking her head in mild disbelief, "--regardless of your perceived immortality... you are human and you need rest. Now. Do you have any questions?"

The Slayer scowls at her, and the longer she waits for an answer the deeper the scowl grows. Eventually he rolls his eyes, then gestures to his body. She seems to get the hint.

"Oh, your suit?" He nods. "It is in the other room, currently being cleaned. We can bring it in here if you'd like?" The Slayer nods, then crosses his arms --carefully, so the doctor didn't have to re-stitch his arm a third time. "I can also assure you that your ship is secure; Hayden made sure of that, and he is also currently working with ARC scientists to repair the parts of his body that were broken."

As the woman talked, her face grew more flushed, and she continued to avert her eyes. It was at this point that the Slayer realized her voice was familiar. He scrutinizes her, unblinking, head tilted, arms still crossed, before he finally clears his throat, prompting her to stop any rambling she was currently involved in. She squeaks and her cheeks go a bright red, but it is enough to stop her momentarily.

"Oh! Do you need water? Can you speak?"

Not to you, lady, is what he would've said, but instead he simply thinks it to himself while managing to shake his head in response to both. He sighs, sitting back. When even was the last time he was in a hospital? It was more than a lifetime ago, on a different Earth, in a different realm, with different doctors with similar agendas looking him over, wondering his secrets when he argued that he had none to give.

Now he had too many secrets and a vow of silence keeping him from spilling any of them. Not that he'd want to, anyway. And definitely not to this doctor in over her head.

"Of course, of course. Well, ah, if you need anything, my name is Dr. Elena Richardson. Feel free to call if anything, anything at all, is needed." She pats his arm awkwardly and it clicks in his memory; the audio logs. Good Lord, it was her. He gives her a brief nod and smile before looking away and she backs off, blessedly leaving him alone.

He sits there.

Then, less than a minute later, Slayer decides he's been sitting long enough.

Lost in thought, he swings his legs over the side of the bed, taking in the surroundings more fully. His room was isolated, a few monitors tracking not only his vitals, but a few other things, such as blood type, foreign bodies, a chart detailing his wounds. The room smells too clean, like when someone needs to disinfect every inch of every surface, but at least it wasn't tainted with the smell of blood and corruption. At least, not yet.

Or perhaps, not anymore.

Perhaps there was a reason for the burning scent of bleach in his nose, after all.

His fingers tap against the mattress, keeping time with an unheard beat, but then the tempo quickens to impatience. This was not going to be a place he wanted to stay, and certainly not for a few more days, let alone a few more hours. He looks around, glances at the ceiling and windows, checks his condition, and plans.

------

In a different room, in a different part of the complex, in a very different condition...the body of Dr. Samuel Hayden awakens.

Well. Perhaps awaken is not the right word. Waking up implies the lack of a consciousness, whereas Hayden has always been quite aware of his surroundings. For the past seven years or so he's been vaguely aware of scientists watching his body, was even roughly aware of the Doom Slayer as he pulled the remnants of his body away from ARC tech, tossing him unceremoniously through a portal onto the fortress ship the Slayer called home. Things became much clearer and sharper after connecting with the ship and drawing power from it; however, there was a difference between living within the confines of a ship's mainframe for the better part of a month, and being within a body that now fully functioned, with joints that bent when he willed them to. Having a robot chassis did make life complicated sometimes… but being able to return to functional legs years after they'd been ripped off, was definitely a bonus.

With the return of his fully-functioning cyborg body, the sleek black-and-white frame towering 3 feet over the next tallest person, he did feel conscious again for the first time in years-- so if that counted towards "awake", then the word was fitting for his current mental state after all.

"Thank you, Simon," Hayden says, refitting his right arm with his left, his blue LED blinking bright inside his skull. The bald doctor, overseeing the reattachment of the arm, just nods, fixing his glasses. "I think for now, that'll be all. Keep studying the ship while you can; if it can help rebuild me, it can help rebuild others."

His voice was deep, warbled, slightly digital; like it was still getting used to speaking from the chassis, and not from the ship's internal comm system. Nevertheless the scientist didn't seem to mind. He just responds with "of course, sir," and heads off in the direction of the door, passing many other scientists deep in their work as he does so. Hayden rubs a wrist and, --as a few ARC scientists flit around him, removing cables and wires full of man-made Argent-- he takes his first steps with his new pair of legs.

"We have much to do," Hayden states, with an air of authority and urgency. "With the Icon of Sin dead, we need to move towards eradicating any remaining demonic forces before those in space can return to Earth." He turns to the nearest scientist, a woman with bushy red hair and freckles. "How is our guest holding up?"

"Richardson has reported that he is awake and responsive, but we do not know how long he will tolerate being subject to more tests. He's already popped sutures simply by trying to get up."

Hayden tilts his head. "How long ago was this report?"

"An hour ago now." She checks her notes and then looks up at the towering cyborg. "Why?"

As if on cue, an alarm goes off. Hayden looks over, checking a nearby monitor: as suspected, it's from Medical Bay H. The redhead looks incredibly concerned, her eyes going wide.

"O-oh," she says, as a hulking form of muscle and sinew, dressed only in a medical gown, struts past a security camera. The subject looks around then walks up to a nearby doctor, tapping them on the shoulder before "borrowing" their key card lanyard. He uses it on a nearby door, tossing the lanyard back to doctor before entering the room and surveying the object of his desire: a powerful space-faring suit of alien make and design.

Hayden sighs. Of course. He turns away and walks towards the door.

"Sir?" Says the scientist manning the security camera. "Should we… can we… stop him?" There was a futility to his tone; everyone here had a right to be concerned. Even if the humans in ARC weren't corrupt or demonic, the collateral damage the Doom Slayer could cause was well-documented. The hole Mars now sported was evidence enough of what he was capable of.

"Invite him to see me in Complex Wing B, room 235. Don't try and stop him; I can guarantee you won't be able to." There's a dark chuckle there, a dry amusement, but Hayden shakes his head anyway. He continues his trajectory, leaving the room where had been reassembled, opening up a comm line with the Slayer directly.

"Long time no see, so to speak. How about we meet, face to face, one more time? There's much we need to discuss."

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian one-shot “A Less Lonely Echo” (Rated PG13)

Sebastian wakes Kurt up at three in the morning to go on a hike in search of the perfect sunrise to photograph. Kurt is a little less than thrilled. (1733 words)

Part of the Deliver Me verse

Read on AO3.

Kurt sighed. Once again, they were trekking their tired asses up another impossible incline, searching out the perfect spot to watch the sun rise. Kurt didn’t want to admit that secretly he found it extremely romantic. It reminded him of that first sunrise he and Sebastian caught together on the hillside overlooking his little yellow house. Actually, Kurt wouldn’t mind these quests for the perfect sunrise so much if they didn’t end with the two of them covered in three inches of dirt.

At least he managed to talk Sebastian out of riding a burro down the canyon. Not only were those poor animals worked to death (Kurt had made a note to contact PETA or whomever with regard to saving them from their lifetime of servitude), he’d ridden donkeys before.

There would be no getting that smell out of his jeans.

Sebastian said it was fine with him, that there was only one ass he had been looking forward to riding that day, and as much as Kurt was eagerly receptive to more fucking in a tent tonight, the thought of it made him feel sticky all over.

Kurt had brought his skin and hair care products on this adventure, but the only showers available were a freezing cold trickle of water spitting out a rusty pipe in a wall on the far end of a nearby RV park. Kurt couldn’t wait until they ended to camping trip, packed it in, and found themselves a nice, gold-star rated hotel. He was going to climb into the shower, turn on the hot water, and stand underneath the spray for a week and a half since it was going to take that long to work the grime out from under his fingernails.

Sebastian could work him, too, while they were at it.

“You do remember that I’m afraid of heights, right?” Kurt groaned as they reached the peak.

“You?” Sebastian teased. “Afraid of heights? Never. Not my gorgeous, bungee jumping fanatic.”

“Yeah, well, at least when we jumped off that bridge, there was a harness and a cable around us. I mean, what do I do if I slip off the top of this thing?”

With ironic timing, Kurt took a wrong step, slipping and sending a shower of pebbles down the path they had come up. Sebastian quickly grabbed hold of Kurt’s arm before he could slide back down completely and hauled him to firmer ground.

“My guess is fall,” Sebastian said, helping Kurt the rest of the way up the rise. When they were almost at the top, Sebastian pulled Kurt against his body, holding him tight in his arms.

“Just hold on to me,” he whispered, lips ghosting over Kurt’s flushed cheeks. “I won’t let you fall.”

Kurt scoffed. Sebastian frowned.

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked.

“Oh, I trust you,” Kurt replied. “It’s gravity I don’t have much faith in.”

Kurt wanted to add that Sebastian wouldn’t be able to help him while he was plummeting hundreds of feet to his death, but he couldn’t. With Sebastian so close, his lips brushing Kurt’s skin, each touch filling him with incredible heat, he ceased to be able to speak. Besides, Kurt believed in his heart that Sebastian would never let him fall, no matter how much his clumsy body wanted to test that theory.

With a hand beneath his chin, Sebastian raised Kurt’s mouth to his and kissed him. The wind at this height whipped around them, cutting along Kurt’s skin as the early morning rays crested the horizon. Kurt was blind to all of it, caught up in the rapture that was Sebastian’s warm mouth and his silky tongue caressing Kurt’s gently. Sebastian pulled away as the first touch of sunlight hit his cheek, laughing when Kurt’s lips chased his. Sebastian glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

“Here it is, gorgeous,” he whispered. “We don’t want to miss it.”

Kurt followed Sebastian the rest of the way, hand grasping his securely, to a flat area of rock where they could watch the sun rise. Sebastian maneuvered Kurt’s body in front of his. He unzipped his heavy jacket and wrapped it around Kurt, holding him close. Kurt exhaled a long breath of relaxation and contentment as he melted against his boyfriend’s body.

Sebastian was right. The vista stretching out before them was breathtaking. The rising sun spread golden fingers along the horizon, and everywhere they touched, the landscape came to vibrant and spectacular life.

“Aren’t you going to take a picture?” Kurt asked, unable to move his eyes away from the glorious sight.

“Another time.” Sebastian inhaled deep, breathing in the crisp, clean morning air along with the invigorating scent of Kurt’s shampoo. When the wind swirled around them again, the enticing scent of vanilla brought him down off the canyon and back to their tent last night - into the seclusion of Kurt’s embrace. “Right now, I just want to hold you. I’ll photograph it another day.”

“But Sebastian … isn’t that why we came up here?” Kurt didn’t know why he was complaining. Being held by Sebastian was becoming first on a long list of things that he loved more than life. “To find the perfect spot and take a picture of the perfect sunrise?” Kurt parroted their conversation from earlier this morning, when Sebastian had the audacity to wake Kurt at three in the morning to go on a hike of all things!

“Kurt, there are going to be a million perfect sunrises, but there’s only one perfect you, and right now, perfect you is winning.”

Kurt bit his lip, dry from the batting wind and the extreme altitude. And as uncomfortably chapped as they were, they were still hoping to be kissed. Never one to disappoint (and always seeming to read Kurt’s mind), Sebastian kissed a path along Kurt’s jawline. Kurt turned his head to seek him out, and when they met, the world around them suddenly filled with light.

Kurt sighed against Sebastian’s mouth, then turned back to catch what was left of the rising sun.

“Do you know I’ve never been here?” Kurt admitted.

“Isn’t it kind of a requirement for young boys?” Sebastian asked, holding Kurt tighter when the wind shifted and Kurt began to shiver. “I mean, Boy Scout troops come up here all the time.”

Kurt looked up at his boyfriend incredulously. “Do I strike you as the Boy Scout type?”

“I don’t know …” Sebastian’s eyes left the beauty of the horizon, opting instead for the beauty of Kurt’s eyes. “You’re smart as a whip, you garden, you work on cars, you write books, you cook, you sew … that’s six merit badges right there.”

“Huh. I never thought of it that way.”

“Besides, I think you’d look hot in the uniform.”

“I would,” Kurt admitted, turning back to the incredible view.

“My mom took us up here when I was around thirteen,” Sebastian said. “You know, that age when you still love your parents but you’re too cool to hang out with them?”

“I know what you mean but I was never that way. I forced my poor dad to have tea parties with me on the front lawn until high school.”

Sebastian chuckled, but he sounded sad. Sebastian loved talking about his mother. Reliving those good times with her was part of what this trip they were taking was all about. But as of late, those conversations tended to get more and more bittersweet. “Yeah. To be honest, that wasn’t me. I’ve been a mama’s boy my entire life. I would rather hand out with her over my best friends. In fact … she was my best friend.”

“What about your dad?” Kurt asked. “Didn’t he go with you?”

Sebastian kissed the crown of Kurt’s head, taking a moment to regroup his thoughts, clear the knot in his chest.

“No. No, he isn’t really the …”

“Please don’t say outdoors type!” Kurt cut in to lighten the mood. “I would rather not know that he and I have anything in common!”

“I was going to say the family type.”

“Oh,” Kurt said, dropping the subject, not wanting to push any farther. He already knew Sebastian had a strained relationship with his father, but only lately was Kurt beginning to realize just how distant Sebastian’s father really was during Sebastian’s formative years.

“Anyway,” Sebastian continued, “my mom, my brother, and I spent hours at this canyon, yelling like lunatics and listening to our voices echo. I think we annoyed, like, dozens of tourists but we couldn’t care less.”

“Echoes always seem kind of sad to me,” Kurt admitted.

“Hmm, I never really thought about it.” Sebastian kissed down the column of Kurt’s neck, seeking out warmth to thaw his now frigid lips. “Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know. It’s almost like you say something to the universe, then those words travel in search of someone who will hear them. But they don’t find anyone, so they just … return …”

“Well, maybe if we both say something at the same time, they’ll travel off together, and that will make them a little less lonely.”

Kurt giggled. “A less lonely echo?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Why not? It can’t be any stranger than the notion that an echo can be lonely to begin with.”

Kurt squeezed Sebastian’s arms around his waist. “Fair enough.”

“On the count of three?” Sebastian asked.

“What? You mean now?”

“Yup.”

“Okay. What should we say?”

“I don’t know. Pick something.”

Kurt rolled his eyes up to the sky, thinking. “All right. I know what I’m going to say.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” Sebastian asked.

Kurt shook his head. “Nope.”

“Okay,” Sebastian said nonchalantly. “Fine. Be that way. I’m not telling you mine, either.”

“Okay, then.” Kurt drew himself up to his full height and Sebastian laughed, noting silently that he was still an inch or two taller.

“On the count of three,” Sebastian commanded. “One … two … three!”

Both Kurt and Sebastian yelled into the wind, their voices hitting the canyon at roughly the same time. Kurt laughed at the cacophony of it, waiting for the echo to hit his ear, and when it did, he froze. He turned slowly in his boyfriend’s arms and looked into his smug face. “Wait,” Kurt said, looking ridiculously and adorably confused, “w-what did you just say?”