#i have triple piercings on the same ear as he does. i could steal his vibe

[feytouched]

i'm such a necklace girlie like. i'm sorry but necklaces & earrings are just the superior accessory choices it's a fact!

[slightlymore]

for sure

yuta x fem reader

genre: smut, sprinkle of fluff, sprinkle of angst (? not really, yuta being deep for no reason in one scene, blame his triple scorpio making him emotional) 

warnings: +18, esplicit sexual content (teasing, fingering, spanking, oral both, raw, multiple orgasms, cum play, overstimulation, use of a butt plug haha, rough but yuta is kind of a soft dom, brat taming, praising, manhandling), alcohol, swearing, description of yuta’s navel piercing, talks about tattoos and nipple piercings 

words: 5.7k 

requested: you're a babysitter and the little girl's hot brother is making your life difficult

_____ You woke up in a man's bed that morning. 

The ceiling above you was a little spinning when you opened your eyes. His scent was everywhere, engulfing all of your senses. 

It was the first thing your brain registered about Yuta as you played with the little girl you were babysitting: like a swoosh of air that almost physically grated at your skin when he entered the house. 

Then his voice, loud but warm, announcing that he was home. 

The girl's eyes got bright at the sound, and as you were both sitting on the living room floor, she was quick to rise and run towards her brother’s arms. You turned around with a newly bloomed smile and watched, a little out of place. 

And then you actually saw him. 

Perfect face, perfect teeth, sexy eyes, black ruffled hair, more piercings than you had brain cells. 

Red lights screaming at you D A N G E R while your breath went missing. 

You just couldn’t look away. And it turned you on so fucking much. 

They were both laughing as the young man made the girl fly for a few moments then groaned, saying that he was starving. 

Then he also saw you. 

"Hi," you blinked fast when you felt his gaze on you, and you got up, walking a few steps and lifting one hand in an awkward greeting. 

The man looked at you from head to toe and imperceptibly furrowed his eyebrows. 

"Oh, hello," he extended his hand too and you shook it quickly. 

"I'm Y/N. I'm taking care of your sister," you explained and he opened his mouth to speak. Perhaps about to say that he wasn’t aware. 

"Y/N, look!" the little girl interrupted, grabbing his hand and shoving it into your face. "See? Nailpolish! Like you!" 

You smiled and nodded at her. "Yes, it's very pretty,” you admired Yuta’s black nails. 

The girl looked elated and proceeded to grab your hand too and shove it into the man's face this time. 

"She has red. She told me she'll do red on me too!" 

"Ohh!" the other played along and sustained your palm in front of himself. His skin was warm and soft. "You'd also look as beautiful as her with red nails," he then ruffled the girl's hair and whistling he turned around before you could think of what to say to that compliment. 

"Right!" his head peeked behind the corridor corner and you relaxed your face in another smile. 

"You're going away in half an hour?" he asked. 

"Yes. I'm here until 7."

"Okay."

Okay. 

You felt yourself be tugged down and you sighed resuming colouring, trying to ignore the little tingle on your hand skin. 

_____

It's not like you expected him to say more. You just felt weird to be a little upside down after the encounter while you didn't leave an impression on him at all. 

How did you know? 

Because every time you were searching for him around the house you’d get caught staring and not once you caught him back. 

The first time, he curiously tilted his head to the side but you looked away too quickly to see his full reaction. 

The second time he smiled and you blinked back, your lips automatically imitating his before realizing what you were doing. 

The third time he was fumbling in the kitchen and you could see his shoulders from the angle you were in, comfortably sitting on the soft couch in the living room. Your eyes caressed his spine and when you eyed the ass, he turned around and before you could look away he winked at you. 

Fuck. 

He wouldn't come home around 6 as that first day all the time. Sometimes he wouldn't come at all, even when you had to prepare dinner and clock out later than other days. Each day was agony, not knowing if you'd see him or not. And each day you were anxious to hear from the Parents that they didn’t need you anymore. Or that Yuta said he hated you and they thought about getting another babysitter instead. 

But then when you'd least expect it, his scent would impress the air after the sound of the entrance door opening, making your mouth dry and heart jump. You'd look down at your clothes, trying to check on your appearance, every day putting in more and more effort to catch his attention. 

"Hi, Y/N. I hope this little monster didn't make your life difficult today," he'd joke, making his sister puff her cheeks. 

You'd giggle at them taking their tongue out at each other then you'd watch him go inside his room just like any other evenings where he got home early. No talking and no interaction. What was inside that room that was more interesting than being with you? 

_____

"What does your brother like to do?" you asked the Little Girl once, smoothly making conversation after she told you what her favourite activities were at school.

The girl pouted as if thinking, eyes glued on the Legos she was assembling. 

"Kissing his friends," she mumbled and you choked on your own spit. "And listening to loud music. He draws with me too,” she added, not noticing your expression. 

"He's good at drawing?" you asked, impressed, Yuta and kissing in the same sentence making you feel some type of way you tried to conceal. 

"Yes. He wants to draw on people." 

"Oh, so he wants to be a tattooist. That's very cool."

"Dad thinks it's stupid. He didn't like his belly earring either."

You choked on your spit for the second time and before you could process the new piece of information making your head spin, his chuckle caressed your ears like a sinful melody. But also made you jump like a scared cat. 

"He won't like the nipples either but that's life.” 

You looked behind your shoulder to see him walking towards you in a rare stroll through the house. 

"You pretty ladies talking about me?" 

You lifted your head to look at him and smiled as he crouched between you and his sister, lazily sipping from a coca-cola can. 

"Y/N likes talking about you," The Girl mumbled again. 

You inhaled sharply and looked her way, mouth open in a flustered way to add something. Yuta smirked with his head tilted to the side as he’d usually do. It reminded you of a black bird making him cute but intimidating at the same time. 

"Is that so?" he asked. 

"Oh it's just--,” you chuckled once, “I don't see you around often so I was just a little bit curious."

"Hmm,” he nodded thoughtfully. “So you want to see me more often?" 

You swallowed even if your mouth felt dry. He was so close, gaze piercing, staring into your soul and fuck, his cologne impregnating the air on top of everything. 

"You want to see his belly earring?" 

Your eyes darted towards The Little Girl again and Yuta smiled even wider. He let his body weight down on his knees and his hand was quick to lift his shirt, exposing his abs.

"When I'm older, I’ll get one too,” the sister commented. 

The little puff of air escaping your lips could have been taken as a compliment when you eyed his navel and the piercing adorning it. Hopefully not for a sudden burst of horniness. Then you eyed the vein dancing deliciously underneath it, going down and down and down and d-When Yuta suddenly let his shirt fall down, you inhaled and looked away. 

"I like it too," you grabbed the Legos again, trying to sound as uninterested but not as rude as possible. 

"Bet you do," Yuta chuckled and lifting himself up he lazily strolled back to his room, the look you exchanged as he caught you staring while turning the corner making you want to dig a hole and hide in it. 

_____

The following dasy you tried to ignore Yuta as much as possible. The thought of him finding you out making you embarrassed out of your mind. It hasn’t been that hard though, since he barely was around anyways. 

That night, the Parents were out of town and you had to take care of the girl until Yuta came home. 

"If he comes home at all," Mother sighed amusedly. "We never know." 

"It's not a problem for me to stay the night," you assured them and you could see how grateful they were to hear you say that. 

And there you were, looking around the empty house, baby put to bed and tummy full. 

You eyed the TV and considered turning it on before your eyes inevitably rolled towards the corridor. 

A single sigh left your mouth and, clearing your throat as if putting on a show for your imaginary audience, you walked towards it slowly, fighting the urge to start humming and showing that you'd only nonchalantly peep into the master room. It was boring and you closed the door very quickly. 

Okay. Yes. Who were you trying to fool? You wanted to see Yuta's room. 

Fuck. 

You didn't care about the other rooms. 

You were just dying from curiosity to see his one. 

Deep breaths and slow limbs you analyzed the white door in front of you after looking behind your shoulder. 

Was it a criminal offence to peep into people's rooms? You were home alone though. And you had no interest in stealing anything. You just wanted to give a very quick look. 

You gulped and stopped your hand in mid-air before reaching the knob. 

Invasion of privacy. 

You were invading Yuta's privacy.

Shit. 

You crossed your arms on your chest and let one of your legs tremble. 

Excuse. You needed an excuse. Think. 

Your brain almost hurt as your leg kept dangling from anxiety. 

Windows? Windows! You hit your palm with one fist, eyes suddenly bright with relief. 

The Parents told you to make sure all the windows were closed before going to bed. You checked on all of them except Yuta's one. What if he smoked before going to class that morning and forgot to close the window? A dry carpet is more important. 

The excuse felt great so the door swung open and you were inside in a second. 

No open windows. Alright.

Now you had to go. 

Your hand gripped the knob harder. 

Okay, leave. 

But you were already there, weren’t you? Just a brief look. You won't touch anything, you promised to your conscience. 

Timid feet, you took a little stroll around his unmade bed, a little heat washing over your body, looking at the stuff on the floor, discarded clothes near the open dresser, his knick-knacks on the shelves. An ordinary boy room. 

Then you eyed his cologne and you stopped in place. 

It was standing on the desk near his computer, almost begging you to just give it a sniff. 

Okay. You'd only touch his cologne. Only that. 

The glass bottle felt cold in your hand when you opened the cap and closed your eyes as you brought it to your nose. 

You inhaled deeply and bit your lower lip. It was just a good scent, right? 

Objectively. 

It's not like you liked it because it was Yuta's or anything. 

Right?

It was calming and made you feel weirdly safe. Fumbling with it a little, you quickly put some on your neck before realizing what you've just done. Shit. 

Blinking fast, you put the cap back on and placed it in his spot then fast as the light you exited before you could do any other damage. 

"What were you doing in my room?" 

The voice behind you made your knees buckle in surprise. 

"Oh my God!" you almost squealed. The corridor was dark and you could barely see Yuta's face when you turned around. 

"You scared me!" 

He looked unimpressed as he took a step towards you. 

You took a step back. 

He raised one eyebrow. 

You didn't answer my question, it was saying. 

"I was just checking whether the window was closed or not," you explained with a trembling voice. "When did you get home?" 

Yuta leaned in suddenly and inhaled around your neck. 

You paralyzed in place feeling his hair tickle your skin. 

"You played with my stuff?" 

You shook your head and took another step behind. You would have taken more if the door wasn't pressing into your back.

"Why do you smell like me then?" 

His whispering voice, so close and so deep made your head spin. 

"I just-- really like your cologne. I am so sorry I touched it-" you blabbed. 

"What else did you touch?" 

"Nothing! I swear. You can check." 

You could barely see his eyes in the darkness but you saw his white straight teeth when he smiled. 

"Then what else did you want to touch? Me if I were in there?" 

"Huh?"

His sudden change in demeanour confused you.

Yuta kept on grinning and you felt his hand dance around your waist. You gulped and felt like panting. Then a single click made you jolt and he walked past you entering the room. 

Finally, alone, you exhaled, closing your eyes for a moment to gather your shit. 

"It has a different smell on your skin," you heard him talk so you turned around, watching him take off his jacket. "If you want to smell like me, you'd probably need to have sex with me," his smile was bright but you barely saw it as it got hidden by the hoodie he was taking off. The black t-shirt underneath it clung to his body and paired with his last sentence it made you speechless. 

What? Flirt? You should flirt. This is why you didn't leave an impression on him before. Because you were boring. Get your shit together and flirt. But what does one say to something like this? Oh my God. 

"I'd- like that."

No. No No No. 

Yuta chuckled once and you fought the urge to run away. 

"Okay."

You thought you were hearing things. 

"Okay?" 

He nodded. "Next time? I had a few drinks and I want to fuck you sober," he explained and with a smile, he walked past you again towards the bathroom. 

Want to fuck you sober. 

Want to fuck you. 

He was crazy. He was completely crazy. And damn, it made you feel things you didn't know you could feel. 

Trembling fingers and boiling blood, you grabbed your bag and waited for Yuta to exit the bathroom and to announce that you were leaving. 

"What are you doing?" 

His dark hair was wet and pressed on his forehead before his hand could push it back. But you didn't notice it at all, so concentrated on his naked body only wrapped in a towel. And said towel only around his hips. 

"Your parents said that they needed me to stay only until you came home," you explained, gulping down a little whine, already wearing your coat in the middle of the living room.

"Don't be ridiculous," he walked the distance and grabbed the coat, pulling it towards him once before starting to unbutton it for you. 

Paralyzed you just let him do that unable to crack a single word. Your eyes didn’t know where to land so you just watched his hands move, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the way your chest moved fast as lightning. 

"It's too late. Besides, I told you that I'm drunk. We need a responsible adult inside this house for the night."

His smirk made you smile a little as a reflex. 

"You don't look drunk at all."

"I'm a Scorpio," he explained as if you could understand what that meant. You nodded slowly and looked up at his hidden expression under the wet strands of hair. Was he babysitting you? 

But then he pressed his palms on your chest right above the swell of your breasts and slid it underneath to coat, in an attempt of taking it off your shoulders. 

You shivered and turned around as Yuta helped your arms out of it too. 

"How long have you been crushing on me?" 

His voice was low and amused in the silence of the house. 

You felt like a little mouse in the grip of a humorous cat that liked to play with its food first. 

I don't have a crush on you! you wanted to reply but you bit your lip instead. 

You opened your mouth to at least make a single sound but whatever you wanted to say died in your throat when you felt his hand palm your ass. 

"Did you wear this short skirt for me?" 

You jolted, not expecting his voice and breath to be this close to your ear. 

He giggled a little at your reaction and kissed your shoulder skin where little goosebumps formed. 

"You said you would not fuck me tonight," you whispered. 

"No. But I can play a little, can't I?" he dragged his hand down your ass until reaching the hem of the skirt and slipping his fingers underneath it. 

Your eyelids fluttered when he gently cupped one cheek and squeezed, his tongue barely tingling on your neck. 

"Yu--ta," you inhaled sharply. 

"Yeah? Is this how you moan my name when you bury those pretty fingers inside of you?" 

And when he bit and sucked on the softness of your neck, he took your breath away. 

You lifted yourself on the tiptoes, hands reaching back to touch his head, finally tangling your fingers into his luscious hair. 

"Am sure it doesn't feel nearly as good as this-," he let go the skin he was biting to whisper while his hand under your skin slowly slid your soaked panties to the side and dragged the fingertips along your clit, showing you what this meant. 

The whine you emitted made him chuckle but he was quick to shut you up by pressing his mouth on yours. You arched your back, throwing your ass towards his hand as hard as you could, one hand cupping his jaw, trying to get as much of his tongue as possible. 

Divine, you thought. Absolutely intoxicating. 

And when you felt his middle finger inside of you, your body shuddered in his hold. 

"Hmm, you're so needy," he rubbed his nose alongside your face and neck as you broke the kiss to pant. "Would you have been able to sleep well tonight? Knowing I was just one wall away?" 

You shook your head. 

"I should have let you suffer a little bit more. Just like I've been doing all of this time." 

"So you knew?" 

"Yeah. I wanted to break you, but tonight, seeing your little pout dying to suck my cock made me lose it. So here I am."

His last words got accompanied by his scissoring fingers and when he added his other hand to the clit, rubbing it mercilessly your knees buckled and you had to hold onto his forearm. 

You were actually getting fingerfucked by the dude you’ve been crushing on for weeks. 

"Let me hear that pretty voice. Show me how good I'm making you feel," his order made your inaudible panting transform into broken whimpers. 

"Cumming--cumming! 

Yuta hummed, acknowledging your sudden shaking body and when you dug your nails into his skin and let yourself fall into his arms, he wrapped your waist and stilled his hand inside of you. 

You tried to open your eyes while panting, clenching around his fingers still deep buried between your throbbing walls, but failing. And when he slipped them out slowly you've never felt as empty as in that moment. 

"Such a good girl," he kissed your jaw and you turned towards him, placing your hands on his bare chest and kissed him. 

Yuta hummed into it amused before grabbing your face with one hand, stopping you. "Slow down, and no," he interrupted himself when you pouted, "don't give me those fuck me eyes. I said next time. This was just a little treat."

"I don't believe you don't want to fuck me right now." 

"Oh, I'd break you in half." 

"Do it."

He tsk-ed. "Not tonight. Whine a little more for me, cutie." 

And just like that he turned around and slithered away with a smirk, leaving you burnt but still on fire in the middle of the living room. 

_____

Head under the covers of the guest room, you were wondering if Yuta was touching himself at that moment or not. 

Stubborn like he was, he probably went to sleep with a stiffy. 

But what if he didn't? 

What if he fucked his fist all of those nights thinking of you? The thought made you squeeze your thighs together. 

"I'm just cold. I promise I won't do anything."

Yuta looked at you standing in the frame of his door and chuckled once before resting his head down again. 

"Okay, but if you try something your ass will go back to your room. Also, you won't need a pillow."

You hesitated for a moment and placed the pillow you were holding on his dresser before timidly approaching his bed.

He scooted to the side and when you slowly sat down he just huffed impatiently and wrapped your body with his arms, pressing you on his chest. 

He was right. Head resting on his bicep and face buried into his torso, you didn't need any pillow. 

"Wait," you paralyzed as you tried to extend your legs and brushed his in the meantime. "Are you naked?" 

Yuta hummed positively. "Got tired after the nut and didn't bother."

Your breath hitched and you shifted imperceptibly. Shit. You should have probably just stayed in your room and rubbed yourself instead of being pressed against his body and not being able to do anything about it. 

"You could have just fucked me instead."

Your whisper made him chuckle. Then he breathed in once as the silence made it possible for you to hear your own heartbeat. 

"Are you going to stop wanting me after I fuck you?" His voice was low and raspy. 

Your hand, resting on his chest, twitched. 

"Would you care?" 

Yuta inhaled and exhaled, warming your forehead. And he didn't reply. 

You bit your lower lip. "I'm sure I'll want you again if you fuck me good enough," your tone tried to lift up the vibe but Yuta didn’t follow you there. 

"And if you don't?" 

You lifted your face to look at his expression and he returned the gaze behind half-opened lids. 

"You tell me. If I don't?" 

His pupils looked at yours alternatively. "Let's sleep."

"I am--,” you stopped to gather courage, “-extremely wet right now. And I'm dying for you to finger me again. Although you've already done it once. So I’m pretty sure I'll feel the same after your dick too. If this is what’s making you hesitant.” 

Your whisper made him open his eyes again and when he smiled a little you silently exhaled relieved. 

"Extremely wet, you say? Won't believe it until I see for myself."

His tone opened your legs before his hand could and when he reached your panties under the pyjama bottoms you jolted. 

"Hmm, fuck. Yes, you are. And for what? For being in my mere presence?" 

You bit your lower lip as he slowly circled your clit. 

"Don't get cocky."

"Can't help it with the cock I got."

"Won't believe it until I see for myself," you smiled, one hand already palming his stomach, feeling his piercing, loving the way things were rolling all of a sudden. 

Yuta's muscles twitched under your touch and when you let your fingers drag on his length before wrapping it with your hand he whimpered. 

You loved that sound and got even more eager, pressing your thumb on his slit and increasing the movement of your fist. 

Yuta rutted his hips into your hand a few times before grabbing your wrist and pinning your arm above your head. 

You hissed and tried to liberate yourself making Yuta just press more. 

"Where's the good girl from before? A reminder that I can still refuse to bury it inside of your needy pussy as you so much desire," he spoke mere centimetres away from your mouth. 

"Fuck me so hard that she comes back. How about that?" 

"How about I fuck that little bratty mouth of yours until you can't speak back anymore?" He asked, retrieving his wet fingers from inside of you to drag them on your lips. 

You squirmed under his touch and took out your tongue to lick them but he wrapped your throat to keep you down instead. 

"But I said, not tonight. Go back to your room.”

_____

Yuta was like a snake that could poison you. Not letting you go but not wanting to kill you in a second either. He preferred to let his venom slowly enter your system until you couldn’t breathe properly anymore.  

One touch here as you walked the corridor towards the bathroom, a little slap on the ass when no one was looking, a full-on kiss as he’d pull you inside his room for a moment, making you lose your mind at the rhythm of his tongue before whispering to you to go back. 

As days passed you started to wonder if he forgot his promise. 

And when you finally got the “tonight 9m” text your naive mind didn’t think much of it. 

You were sure that the Parents took the Girl on a vacation that weekend so you didn’t have to go, but given the last missed assignments and forgotten deadlines, you didn't trust your memory anymore. 

So when you rang the bell and saw Yuta opening the door you looked behind him as if expecting everyone but him. 

“Yuta?”

“Yes?” He raised one eyebrow, amused at your surprise. 

“Nothing. Are you going out on a weekday?” you stepped inside and took off your shoes. 

If the Parents needed you, they probably knew Yuta wasn’t going to be home that night. 

Yuta didn’t reply and you groaned trying to look at his expression while also trying to free yourself of the boots. If his little smirk threw you off then the way he pressed himself on you in a single movement made your brain straight up buzz with white noise. 

“No short skirt tonight. How disappointing,” he murmured just a few centimetres away from your lips. Just that managed to transform you in a panting mess and when you felt his palms on your sides you shivered. 

“I had no idea I’d be seeing you tonight,” you admitted, brain already running at the fullest of speed, connecting all the dots. 

Yuta hummed. 

“No worries. I want you naked anyway.” 

And when Yuta wants something, you discovered, he gets it fairly quickly. 

Almost stumbling on your own feet, mouth occupied and hands grating at his shoulders, you felt every single piece of clothing leave your body, on the couch, on the floor, thrown across the room. 

And you got thrown around just like that. 

Firstly with his head buried between your thighs, ass rubbing on the couch material, watching his palms grab your flesh and mould it to his pleasure. The gasps on your lips got pushed aside by his name that you kept calling as fast as his tongue on your clit before it would dip inside and make you push your hips into his face for more. His twinkly eyes were the only thing keeping you grounded but his mouth was pushing you off the edge instead. Fighting between the two forces it didn’t take you long to cum, making him chuckle lightly at your reaction. 

“Sorry, it took me so long, babe. I need an empty house when I want to fuck,” he murmured against your stomach, going up until meeting the swell of your breasts, biting on the underside of them and sucking the skin inside his mouth. 

"You could have come over to my house," you breathed out. 

"You're right. I just wanted to tease you some more."

His smirk made you want to roll your eyes when he leaned in to kiss you, his arms caging you in, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. But you wanted to taste him too. So when you pulled him towards you by the waist, making him kneel on the couch he sighed amused and cupped your head as you dipped down. 

His hands were quick to brush your hair out of your face, eyes hungry to see your expression as you took his cock inside your mouth. 

“Shit-” he hissed when after a few good sucks you let him out, lips softly pressing on his balls instead. “You’ve been training much to be this good, haven’t you?” 

“Just want to make you feel good,” you whispered, tongue already licking a stripe up the underside of his length before playing with the slit. “You could have had this much earlier if you weren't so stubborn.” 

His hold on your nape tightened and he hummed. 

"Not liking this bratty behaviour much. What did I say about this? Oh yeah. That I'd fuck your mouth," he finished the phrase right when you felt his fluid stroke on your tongue. 

You relaxed your jaw and looked up, the image of you at his mercy making him exhale shakily. 

"Fuck," his grunts increased just like his pace and when you finally choked, a string of saliva falling on your chin he rubbed his thumb on your cheek, waiting for you to catch your breath again. 

"Your mouth was made for this," he murmured his praises and you whimpered, the pool of wetness between your legs getting larger with each thrust of Yuta’s hips between your tight lips. 

Hovering over you, his black hair falling messily on his sweaty forehead, biceps flexing to keep your head in place and his lower lip, plump and almost red from the biting, made him look like the most erotic picture you’ve ever seen in your whole life. And when he pulled out and gritted his teeth, fist quickly to pump his hard cock in front of your face, you took your tongue out to catch the hot spurts of cum spilling from it, falling on your lips then breasts, slowly coating your nipples until you licked the last drops, swallowing it slowly for him to see. 

He smirked, thumb caressing your throat as it moved and unannounced, as you were losing yourself in his eyes, you suddenly found yourself pushed on your back. You saw the ceiling then a second after the couch again as he flipped you on your stomach instead. 

“Fuck, you’re stunning,” his rough voice accompanied his hands, palming your legs to open them up to his pleasing, squeezing your ass and spanking it once. 

“Thoughts on butt plugs?” he then asked, thumb delicately brushing between your cheeks. 

You shivered at the thought and turned your head to see him. He leaned down, his pelvis pushing against you while his mouth opened to welcome your tongue.  

“Willing to try it out,” you whispered against his lips and he visibly inhaled so deeply to make you squirm. 

You had no idea when Yuta disappeared and then suddenly materialized again behind you, a small plug warming in his hand while the other spread his saliva on you, gently nudging at your entrance. 

“Tell me if you can’t take it,” his words made you smile and you hissed, pushing your ass towards his hand. 

“Just push it inside already, you coward.” 

Yuta raised one eyebrow at you and you inhaled, already savouring the way he’d try to fuck the attitude out of you. And when you felt the plug stretch you out you exhaled deeply, definitely not expecting the harsh slap to your cheeks and not expecting to like the experience that much. 

Full, was the only thing you could think of when Yuta finally slid inside of your wet core and you told him, so full, Yuta, moaning his name again and again and again until your voice got broken by his intense pace. 

So far in and so quick it was honestly a matter of moments before you could feel the build-up in your lower stomach expanding in your limbs, making you dig your nails into the couch material as your chest rubbed on it. 

“Cummingcummingcumming-” you announced but Yuta didn’t care, his hold on you never getting loose as he kept fucking your spasming body through the orgasm. 

"You can take another one, love. You've been so needy for this cock all of this time. I'm just being considerate."

His panting grunts were amused as a string of profanities left your mouth. 

“So-- good-” you managed to form, not once have been fucked by someone with such high stamina before. 

“Yeah? Are you going to beg me for more?” 

Your erratic nods made him chuckle and he grabbed your chin, lifting your head up to reach your mouth. It would have been almost intimate if his fingers didn’t pull out the plug to push it inside, again and again, making you bite on his lower lip. 

And when you saw his fluttering eyes it was your turn to grab his chin and keep him close. 

“I want to see you cum too,” you whispered and he groaned. 

“You first,” he ordered and like a spell, you actually came undone with a loud cry, his hips moving faster and faster until he stilled inside of you as well. 

A deep sigh escaped his throat and you listened to his fast-paced breath as you tried to catch your own. 

“Shit. Your pussy is damn good,” his voice buzzed on your back and you smiled. 

“Let’s take this to the bedroom now, shall we?” 

His breath was hot on your nape and you whined, too tired to actually say a single word. 

“Finally going into round one,” he added amusedly. 

“Round one? I thought that this was round three,” you blinked as you felt his forearm lifting you from the underside of your thighs. 

“What do you mean? This was foreplay.” 

You woke up in Yuta's bed that morning. The ceiling above you was spinning because you didn't get a single second of sleep the whole night. 

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - ix (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The voyage that promised you safety had been a lie.

Warnings: TRIGGERING CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER, A lot happens in this chapter! Major (and minor) CHARACTER DEATH, This chapter is hella heavy (heavier than I meant it to be), injury to reader, MISCARRIAGE, blood, SEXUAL ASSAULT, descriptions of wounds, A LOT OF BLOOD, 

Word Count: 3.3k

In case it wasn’t clear yet...

TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

<- Last Part -=+=- Next Part ->

The silence of the night was interrupted by the loud clattering of the guards’ boots against the tiled floors. Doors were being opened and slammed shut. Servants and nobles woke up startled when the armored men burst through their chamber doors, searching for one woman… You.

“Find her!” The king’s voice boomed throughout the castle. No one could tell if his tone was full of anger or concern. The two seemed to blend into one loud growl that barked orders at everyone in sight. Perhaps… it was neither emotion… Perhaps it was simply desperation. “Find her now!”

But you were long gone by the time Lord Barnes had relayed Natasha’s confession.

As soon as the sun set and the moon rose high into the sky, you and Wanda made your escape. Not wanting to be seen, nor heard, you abandoned your shoes. Your bare feet were silent against the cold floors as you both ran out of the castle and towards the docks.

You were surprised to see that Brock was nowhere to be found. In his place, stood the older Lord Pierce, who introduced you to the sailor who would escort you to Wakanda. The sailor was a man who only went by the name “Stern”. He was a pudgy older man who smoked a strange pipe that emitted a woodsy, lemongrass-like smell.

You didn’t like the way he eyed you and Wanda. His eyes shamelessly looked over your friend’s chest which made her shrink behind you. He had wandering hands that were bold as he pulled you into a tight hug, feeling up your body. He pressed a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek.

Pierce explained that Brock’s estate suddenly needed his attention and that the lord rushed over during the day to handle the matter, but he wished you a safe voyage. For some reason, you didn’t like the way “safe” sounded in Pierce’s mouth. It almost felt as if it were insincere – like the words of a politician.

Minutes had passed and Natasha was nowhere to be found. Although you wanted to wait, both Stern and Pierce advised that the longer you wait, the slimmer your chances at escape became. He promised he would protect her from the king’s wrath as best as he could, even offering to steal her away to York. Reluctantly, you and Wanda agreed that it was best to leave… Besides, Natasha was being courted by James Barnes, one of the king’s oldest friends. Her safety was nearly guaranteed by that fact alone.

So, Pierce ushered you and your friend onto the boat. You thanked him and asked him to thank Brock for you just before the boat set sail.

You watched as the towers of Ameera, Brooken’s castle, faded into the distance as the boat brought you closer and closer to safety – or, what you thought was safety.

Hours into the voyage, you were dry heaving over the side of the boat with Wanda pulling your hair away from your face. You weren’t sure whether to attribute the nausea to your pregnancy, or the violent sways of the boat, or your minor head injury from being pushed down the stairs. Whatever was causing this bout of sickness, it made the trip twice as uncomfortable.

Eventually, you had collapsed due to the exhaustion. Your head laid in Wanda’s lap as she pet your locks, humming a soft lullaby to comfort the both of you. The boat would jolt side to side and Stern would let out a stream of curses. Although it seemed as if the strange man couldn’t expertly maneuver a boat, he did swear like a sailor.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

“Tell me!” Steven ordered. His hand gripped his sword tightly as he glared at the red-headed woman who cowered in her lover’s arms. “Tell me why she left. I don’t want to hear James’s words. I want to hear it from you.”

“She was convinced she couldn’t stay here.” Natasha said, her voice shaking as she trembled. “You had hurt her – multiple times… and your people turned on her the moment it seemed appropriate for them to. She was afraid and she was offered help, a promise of safety in Wakanda. She thought she had to take it. She felt as if she was in danger.”

“By whom?” Natasha looked up at Lord Barnes, who gave her an encouraging nod. The king’s tone was unamused. He was worried for you. “Lady Romanova, who offered her help.”

She gulped. “Lord Pierce and Lord Rumlow.” She glanced at the king’s hands which gripped the hilt of his blade so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. “I tell you this because I fear they don’t have good intentions with the queen. She’s vulnerable, impressionable. I think they’re feeding upon her own fears.” Steven’s grip loosened as he raised his eyebrows up at her, questioningly, prompting her to continue. “And there’s another thing… She’s pregnant, your grace, with your child.”

“What?” James muttered in disbelief. She hadn’t told him this beforehand.

Steven’s face dropped entirely. His worry tripling. You had fallen from the stairs, pushed by one of the ladies of his court, who he stripped of all her titles as punishment. Now, you were missing. Your disappearance aided by two men he knew were conspiring against him. You may have thought you were in danger in Brooken, but you had no idea how much danger you put yourself in by putting your faith in these two men.

“Take one of our fastest ships and sale towards Wakanda. It’s only been hours. They couldn’t be far.” Steven ordered Lord Wilson. He was a loyal friend and was an expert at sailing. He trusted no one more. “As for the rest of you, find me Pierce and Rumlow. Now!”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

(TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD)

You woke up to an earsplitting shriek. Your body was thrown haphazardly onto the wooden deck of the boat. Your head was heavy and dizzy, vision a bit unfocused, but you could make out two bodies feet away from you. When your vision began to clear, you realized it was Stern on top of Wanda, who was screaming your name and pleading for the man to get off.

“Get off of her!” You screamed, scrambling to your feet and wobbling over. The boat rocked beneath you. You pushed him, but you were too weak and tired – exhausted and injured from your fall the day before.

He reached out a hand and shoved your stomach, hard. You fell to the ground with a loud thud. You groaned in pain. Wanda screams were muted when his hands wrapped around her throat. She clawed at his wrists, desperately trying to break free.

With blurry vision, you searched the boat. Your head turned side to side, trying to find anything. The sunlight was reflected by a sharp blade behind the man’s body. You scrambled to pick up the dagger which already had blood dripping from it.

You screamed as you plunged the dagger into the man’s back several times as deep as it could go. The man backed away from Wanda, standing to his feet. She scrambled away with what energy she had left.

“You little bitch.” He moaned. His hand reached over to cut that you left. He winced as he withdrew and saw the blood. Stern stomped over to you, the boat rocking with his steps. You screamed as he twisted your wrist, the blade dropping from your grip, clattering onto the wooden floor. Stern was in your face, the stench from the pipe filled your senses, suffocating you. “I should’ve raped you first.”

He pushed you onto the ground again and threw himself over you. His hand grabbing at your skirts. You screamed and tried to push him off. Over the loud crashing waves, you heard fabric ripping. You sobbed and braced yourself, turning your head to the side and squeezing your eyes shut.

But nothing happened.

You heard a choking sound as warm liquid spilled over your face, some of it finding its way past your lips. A coppery taste filled your mouth. It reminded you of when you’d bite your lip or your cheek too harshly and it would bleed.

You opened your eyes to see Stern sporting a long, deep gash that split his throat open. The cut went from ear to ear. He scrambled to his feet, spluttering blood everywhere. Behind him stood a heaving Wanda, her hand covered in the same liquid that painted your face – the dark crimson of blood.

Her skirts were ripped and exposed her legs that had blood dripping down. She had her own pool of blood that collected in the fabric of her dress. She sported her own gash on her stomach. She fell to the ground as the boat rocked one way as Stern knocked himself overboard.

You found what little energy you had to crawl over to your friend who was bleeding out from her wounds. You cradled her head onto your lap, pushing her hair away from her face. She was pale – paler than she normally was – as she stared up at you.

“Wanda…” Your voice cracked. “Stay with me…”

“This… this was a… this was a mistake.” She muttered. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, giving you a squeeze. The blood on her hands left a print over your scarred skin. Her voice was weak as her strength began to wane.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You cried.

She gave you a soft smile and reached up to wipe your tears. Wanda took a deep breath and shook her head. “We shouldn’t have left…”

“I know… I’m sorry…”

“No, no…” Wanda smiled, gently. “Listen… The king loves you… Whether you want … to believe that or not. He does…” Her breaths were ragged, struggling. “I see it in the way he looks at you.” You saw the bruises that Stern’s fingers left on her throat. “He loves you, (Y/N)… Allow him to…” The muscles on her face began to droop as her arm slumped to her side. Her eyes glazed over as they stared lifelessly up at you.

You let out a scream.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

The sun had set, and you were left shivering in the cool breeze of the ocean. You covered Wanda’s body with a tarp you found. You washed your face with the salty water as best as you could, scrubbing the scum’s blood off of your skin until your skin felt raw.

You weren’t sure how to sail, so you let the boat rock aimlessly.

Sanctuary in Wakanda must’ve been a lie. Pierce had lied. Brock had lied to you. They played you. Was this their plan all along? To rape you and your ladies just before killing you all in the middle of the sea?

You stared into the depths of the water. The hue of the water reminded you of Steven’s eyes. A deep ocean blue with specks of green. You missed his eyes. The warmth they gave when he smiled. The way they sparkled when he spoke to you. You missed his voice and his touches. His lips. You missed him.

Monster or not, you love him.

Suddenly, the dull pain in your stomach made itself prominent as your adrenalin ceased. It was sharp and striking, knocking the wind from your lungs. Your hand flew to the pained area and you winced. Your eyes widened with fear. “No…” You begged to whatever god was listening. “No, please… no.”

You tired to stand… Perhaps you could walk off the pain, but it raked through your body and made you collapse once more. Fresh tears began to roll down your eyes as you felt a warm liquid drip down your legs. You didn’t need to see it to know that it was blood.

“Over here, my lord!” Someone called out. There was a light in the distance. Another boat speeding towards yours. You didn’t recognize the voice, but you recognized the sail. The crest of House Rogers proudly displayed along with Brooken’s flag.

“Queen (Y/N)?” Another voice called out. A figure emerged as the nose of their boat gently bumped against yours. Samuel Wilson. His eyes were wide as he tried to train them to look into the night. “What’s happened?”

It was dim and the only light the night provided was the moon and the lanterns of his own boat, but with his many years on several battlefields, he could recognize the stains of blood anywhere. Your boat was covered in it. The tarp that harbored your friend’s body underneath was stained with it. Your ripped dress, too.

You didn’t need to answer. He knew.

Sam helped you onto their boat. He shook off his coat to wrap around your shivering body. You asked for him to retrieve Wanda as well, wanting to give her a proper burial. The ride back to Brooken was silent. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved to be going back or to be petrified. Steven must be so angry with you.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked. He genuinely cared. He really did.

You shook your head as another bout of sobs erupted through you. You held your head in your hands and wailed into the night with no care of whether the men on the boat judged you or not. You had lost one of your best friends and your baby all in the span of a day.

You were broken.

Sam wrapped his arms around you, letting you muffle your cries into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he paid it no mind. He glanced down at your legs, seeing the red spirals of blood. His heart sank to his stomach as he assumed the worst.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

“Your grace! Your grace!” A servant boy ran through the king’s chambers. The king laid wide awake on his lonely bed, staring up at the canopy over him.

“What is it?” He asked, sitting up. The boy was sputtering words, no coherent sentence forming. “Out with it, boy!”

“Lord Wilson is back … There’s a body in a tarp and another woman asleep. I didn’t see who the woman was.”

Steven’s heart dropped. His anxiety peaking.

You couldn’t be dead… The thought alone broke his heart.

He rushed out of his room, almost knocking the boy to the floor. It was as if he were experiencing déjà vu as he ran through the corridors towards the infirmary. It was the only place they would put a body.

He caught a glimpse of Natasha’s red hair disappearing as the doors shut behind her. Sam had walked out.

Sam grabbed his arm and shook his head. He heard Natasha scream, “No!”, followed by a loud sob.

“Sam – “Steven tried to push past his friend, but the lord’s grip was like iron.

“You should know…” Sam muttered, his voice so low only the king could hear. “Lady Wanda had been … assaulted… She was stabbed and she died from her wounds.” Steven felt guilty for feeling relief, but the body in the tarp had not been his wife. Who could blame him for being relieved? “Steve …”

“What happened?” Steven snapped. “Why will you not let me in?”

“I’m not sure what happened on that boat.” Sam whispered. “But it was covered in blood. Your wife’s dress was torn. I saw her legs with blood dripping down them.” Steven’s blood began to boil – like his friend, assuming the worst.

“Who was on that boat? WHO DID THIS?”

“She didn’t say. She was exhausted when we found her – cried herself to sleep, poor bird.” Sam explained, shaking his head. “I cannot be certain if a similar assault happened to your wife, Steven, but…”

The doors creaked open. Natasha’s red hair popped out. Her eyes red and puffy, face wet with tears. “The queen is awake… If you would like to speak with her, your grace?”

“I do.” Steven nodded. Sam bowed before leaving his king as did Natasha.

You looked tired. Dark circles rimmed around your eyes. One of your wrists was wrapped in a bandage. “My love…” Steve said so carefully as if he were afraid his voice alone would shatter you. You were staring up into the ceiling, tears running down the sides of your face. “My love…” He repeated as he slowly walked over to your side.

“She’s dead…” You whimpered. “She died because … I wanted to run.”

“I know, my love… I’m sorry.” Steven didn’t know what else to say. “What happened?”

A broken sob escaped your lips as you brought your uninjured arm over your eyes and cried into it. Steven rushed over and made you sit up, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You allowed him to hold you as you cried into him, trembling with each sob. You missed how his warmth engulfed you. It gave you a sense of security – of home.

He shushed you, running his fingers through your messy hair. “It’s alright… You’re alright now… You’re home. You’re safe with me.”

“Am I?” You asked, choked with a sob. “Am I truly safe here in Brooken?”

“I will strike down any threat towards you. I swear to you on my life.” Steven said.

“I was pregnant.” Steven’s heart dropped. Was. “Perhaps it was the stress or… or the struggle when S-Stern was on top of me.”

“Did … Did he … ?” Steven couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

“No.” You shook your head, reading his mind. “Wanda saved me just before she bled out.”

“Stern?”

“A sailor Pierce hired to take bring us to Wakanda… I should’ve trusted my instinct.” You scolded yourself. You blamed yourself. How could you not? If only you had listened to your suspicions, your instincts before… Maybe Wanda would’ve been alive… Maybe your baby would’ve survived. “I lost the baby.” You cried into Steve’s chest.

“It’s okay.” Steven said, rubbing your back, soothingly.

“It’s not!” You screamed.

“I am thankful you are alive. We have a lifetime to bring children into this world. My concern is for you, (Y/N).” Steven pulled you from his chest, his hands cupped your face as his thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Do we? Do we have a lifetime? Or will you grow tired of me like Margaret or Sharon because I cannot give you an heir?”

“What?” His face scrunched up with confusion. What did his past wives have to do with you providing him with an heir?

“You killed Margaret… stabbed her in the heart after growing tired of rejections for she did not want a child… You beheaded Sharon in front of her admirers because you were jealous others preferred her – “

“Where did you learn this?” Steven interrupted.  

“Do you deny it? Do you deny that you killed your past wives?”

“No.” You tried to push him away, slamming your hands into his chest and screaming for him to leave. “Stop!” He shouted. “Stop it, (Y/N)! Stop!” He grabbed your wrists gently, cupping them into one large hand. He was cautious with your injured wrist, not applying too much pressure for it to hurt. Steven didn’t miss the way your eyes glinted with fear. “Who told you this?”

“Pierce and Rumlow.”

“They’ve lied to you.”

“But you just admitted you murdered them – “

“I did… for good reason.” Steven sighed. “We’ve been played. They’ve been turning you against me feeding you half truths and half lies… I did kill my wives, yes. Because they were working to overthrow me… House Carter was working with Thanos.”

“What?” Your brows furrowed. You were dizzy. It must’ve been the stress from the horrific events that you experienced. You felt betrayed, confused, conflicted.

“It’s time I tell you the truth.”  

[atombombbagel]

Sole goes AWOL and no one seems to know where they went. How would the companions (+ Maxson?) react to accidentally finding out that they have become the fierce Overboss of Nuka World? The angstier, the better!

(ANGST AHEAD) Hey. Thought I’d post because why not… Enjoy. Also I only did romanced companions because It’s been forever and I need some time to get back into things because I have the motivation of a dead fish :) 

(I’ll try and add the other companions later)  

Hours? Days? Months? Who knows. Nobody does apparently, they checked, double checked, triple checked. They had asked everybody who is anybody and nope, they hadn’t the foggiest idea, not the slightest clue. Sole was gone, and they couldn’t help but think the worst… 

 Cait: “I’m not using anymore ye asshole.” Cait snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She’d been wandering about, walking off last nights hangover (the hangover she’d acquired by trying to drown out her negative thoughts about Sole’s whereabouts) when she’d been approached by an old friend. No. Not a friend, an old dealer she knew.

 "Well… you see, Cait, I told the boss I had the perfect person to do deals out here in the good old commonwealth and you wouldn’t want to let an old buddy down now would you?“ The man in worn slacks snickered. "I know you, Cait, you can’t refuse a good deal… a good high.” The raider twirled a psycho in his hand. 

 "Did ye even hear me? I said I aint usin’ and I definitely aint dealin’ for a waste a space like you. Now ye better piss off before I knock yer feckin’ teeth out.“ Cait seethed, the arrogance of her former dealer making her blood boil. 

 "Is this her?” A voice from the distance said. Cait’s eyes flicked to the person making their way out from behind a decrepit shack. She raised her eyebrows as she focused on the face in front of her. A face she knew all too well. 

 "Sole?“ She said in surprise, "What the hell are ye doin’ messing around with this eejit?” She raised her voice. Sole stepped forward, knocking the dealer in the chest with their fist. 

 "This is who you have for me? You numbskull, get out of my sight.“ Sole shoved the man aside. "Cait.” Sole turned to their former companion. “Long time no see.” They smiled at the red head. 

 “You. Yer the Overboss? Tha one terrorising the Commonwealth with yer gang of thugs?“ Cait pulled a psycho from her pocket. "Ye left me this. Do ye have any idea what ye could of undone?” Cait threw the drug to Sole’s feet. “I can’t believe ye’d do this. I thought… Nevermind what I thought.” Cait sighed. “Stay away from me." 

 "I got pulled into it. I didn’t know you were the person-”

 "Save yer bullshit for someone who cares. After what ye saw me going through? Ye’d what? Inflict that hell on someone else by selling the damn stuff? Yer an ass. I want nothing to do with ye.“

 "It’s only business, I never meant…” Sole tried to convince her but Cait had already turned away. The feeling in her heart worse than any withdrawal she’d ever felt.

Curie: Curie followed the beeping on her radio to the location she was pretty sure was being transmitted. The distress call. The person who needed medical assistance should be right here. But… they weren’t. 

“Fresh meat!" 

All of a sudden, Curie’s vision went black, she tried to scream but she couldn’t, her voice was trapped in the back of her throat. She was terrified. She passed out she was sure of it, only her vision came back to her as a burlap sack was lifted from her head. 

"Looky here Boss. It works.” A raider said (referring to the trap he had set up and planned despite everyone being sceptical about it). Curie’s eyes met her long lost Companions. Soles. She sighed with relief. 

“You’re alive!” She beamed, “I heard a distress call, coming right from here.” Curie explained. “I’ve been trying to help people all over in your absence until I found you of course. Where is the person who needs help?” Curie asked, observing the area carefully. She’d seen similar camps back in the Commonwealth but nothing of this capacity. There must have been hundreds of raiders. She grimaced at the sight of a pile of stacked dead bodies, naked, left there to rot, while a group of raiders rummaged through their clothes and belongings. It didn’t seem like Sole to like this sort of brutality, but maybe she didn’t know Sole as well as she thought she did.  

“There is no distress call.” Sole said plainly, crossing their arms over their chest. She nodded for one of the raiders to come over to them. “You don’t harm her. You and whats-his face,” Sole paused, “You know… Mason’s right hand. You both, take her home and make sure she gets there safe. Not a single hair on her head gets touched, understand?” Sole’s eyes pierced into the raiders. He was clearly scared of them. He nodded. 

“No distress call? But I heard-" 

"It was a trap Curie. You need to go home. It isn’t safe here. I care about you too much to let this corrupt you,” Sole interrupted. “I know you don’t understand but trust me. They need you back home, you need to forget about me." 

Danse: "BOSS!” A Disciple, that was clearly out of the breath from the vigorous running she’d been doing called to Sole. The Overboss of Nuka-World turned to the raider. “We have someone you’d definitely want to see. The bounty on this one’s head. We’ve caught the best of the best!” She was giddy, excited. Sole creased their eyebrows as they followed her. 

“Who is it?” Sole asked, observing the person in front of them, their eyes covered by an old rag. Sole didn’t see the point in covering their eyes if they were to die when handed to their pursuer anyway. 

“Its the Paladin. The one the Brotherhood have been looking for. The one that got away. We’ll be rich!” Sole’s mouth dropped into a frown. It couldn’t be him… could it? 

“Why did you bring him here?” The paladin’s ears perked up when he caught the sound of his capturers voice. That voice that he loved so much, that had pulled him back from the brink at the darkest of times. The voice of the person he never thought he’d see again. 

“Sole?” He said in to blind darkness. He couldn’t see anything, but he knew, he knew deep down it was them. Where they finally back to hand him over to Maxson? Finally seeing him as what he truly was. 

“Remove the blindfold you fool.” Sole said, their eyes meeting Danse’s when the cloth was finally removed. 

“I thought you were dead.” He said after a brief moment of silence. He took a minute to look around at his surroundings. Of all places, he never expected Sole to be here, in this mess. “What are you doing? You’re smarter than this.

"Watch your mouth,” A raider snarled, holding a knife to Danse’s neck. 

“Let him go.” Sole demanded, their eyes still fixed on Danse’s. “I had to get away from the Brotherhood, I found myself here. Its the same, only here I can make my own rules." 

"These people are murderers Sole.” Danse met the other raiders eyes, he watched their scowling faces. They were ready to pounce but they couldn’t, Sole would never let them. 

“So are the Brotherhood.”

“It’s different. They are doing the best for humanity, you’re killing mankind for financial gain. It’s despicable.” Sole smiled briefly. He always was honest. The most honest man they’d ever met. 

“We won’t be turning him in, or killing him.” Sole announced. “Danse, find Preston. He’s in Sanctuary, he’ll let you stay there, for as long as you want." 

"Come with me?” Danse asked, “You don'y belond here.” He wanted Sole to jump into his arms, wrap their arms around his neck and say yes but they stood there expressionless. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry. Find Preston, he’ll help.” Sole swallowed the lump in their throat as they turned. They couldn’t face him as they left, it was too painful. 

Hancock: The red coat wearing devil took a small step backwards, making sure that there was distance between him and the raider, who stood a few meters in front of him. 

“You stick those nails in your armour to make you appear tuff huh big guy?” Hancock mocked, a smirk etched across his disfigured face. 

“You’d better pay up Mister Mayor, or we’ll have to call the boss down here and well, they don’t appreciate it when someone don’t pay for the goods. You understand me?” A raider with bright green hair, stood next to her nail-armour friend. She snarled, making sure the light from the sun reflected on her recently sharpened blade. “Or perhaps we’ll get the pack on you.” She laughed before howling, causing the raider next to her to follow suit. Hancock raised a hairless brow. 

“Aw come on now, we can handle this like men… or women… wait…” Nevertheless, Hancock stepped forward, his concealed knife dug deep into the green-haired woman’s gut. He pulled his knife out and thrust it back in, making sure to twist it. The woman groaned in pain. “Don’t even think about it,” Hancock hissed to the other one, making his threat quite clear to him.

“I think that is quite enough.” Hancock was approached by another raider in Brahmin road leathers, only it wasn’t a raider. It was Sole. The same Sole that had been missing for months, the same one he’d sent search parties out for, the same Sole he thought was dead. 

“Well well… aint this a surprise.” Hancock cleaned his knife using a handkerchief he kept in the inside pocked of his red jacket. “Hanging with the big boys now huh? Or are you the big old bad boss of Nuka World?” He spat. “I didn’t think you were the muderin’ type.”

“I am the boss here Hancock and there is no murdering, but if I get double crossed well that is different.” Sole’s statement made him chuckle with disgust. 

“You.” Hancock pointed his knife at Sole, “Are not who I thought you were.” He put his hand inside his pocket again, this time pulling out a bag of caps. “Here’s your fucking money.” He threw it to the ground, right at Sole’s feet. “Now we are square." 

"It doesn’t have to be like this. You could join us, join me." 

"You really think I want to become a petty murdering thug? You think I was to kill innocent people after stealing their shit? All that they have so you can what? Sit on your throne and boss ME around?” He chuckled. “I’ve got a town to run and you aint fucking welcome.” He shook his head. “I really thought you were different Sunshine.”

MacCready: “There must be some here somewhere.” MacCready muttered to himself as he rummaged around in various chests and bags of an old locker room he’d stumbled across. It was only till he heard a click of a gun he stood still. 

 "What do you think you’re doing in this part of town?“ A rough voice said, making MacCready turn around to face him. His eyes studied the man in front of him. Tall, lanky, not very built, hair was slicked back and around his waste was a belt made of… was that bullets? He looked back up, catching the man’s steady gaze. 

 "The boss aint gonna like this, but if you empty your pockets, they don’t have to know you was trespassing on their property.” The man flashed his teeth with a menacing smile. 

 "I don’t think so.“ MacCready replied standing his ground, ready to aim his rifle. He knew he’d be quicker, but the image of his infant son flashed in his mind. Duncan. He couldn’t do anything rash. "Take me to your boss.” He decided, gripping the leather strap across his shoulder. The raider shrugged before motioning MacCready to follow him.

 The room was dark-ish, lit up by a single lamp, shaped like a cola bottle. Only it had a face, which MacCready thought was weird and a little creepy. 

 "This is the guy that was snooping around in the locker room boss. A thief if you ask me. We should throw him to the dogs.“ He snickered, shoving MacCready forward. It was only then did MacCready catch a glimpse of the person sitting in the chair besides the cola shaped lamp. A smile stretched across their lips.

 "If it isn’t the greatest sniper in all the Commonwealth.” MacCready recognised their voice instantly. 

 "Sole?“ He questioned, making out their features dimly lit by the shit lamp. "So this is what you’ve decided to do while you’ve been gone?” MacCready looked around, heads on spikes jutted out of the ground like some barbaric warning. Junk littered the ground, and in the distance he could discern two of Sole’s raiders roughing each other up. “I’m not one to judge, I’ve made numerous questionable choices too. To each his own.” He shrugged, clutching the leather strap holding his prized sniper, closer to his chest. He knew Sole, he knew they would never hurt him, yet he couldn’t help but feel unsettled by what they had become. He chuckled. “I ran with the gunners, they aint much different. Just be careful." 

 "Thanks Mac.” Sole said with a brief smile. “You don’t want to stay for a while?” They asked, cocking their head to the side. MacCready shook his head, rather quickly. 

 "I should get back to my son. Stay safe out here Sole.“ And with that MacCready left, not wanting to be around Sole when they lead a bloodthirsty pack of savage raiders. It wasn’t safe for him or his son. 

Piper: The story was going to be so good! She was finally hot on the trail of this mysterious boss, the one who was ordering the takeover of the Commonwealth. Once this was all around Diamond City she’d be sold out of newspapers for sure. She’d finally be able to buy her sister that premium box of snack cakes, the ones only Deacon could get on his way back from Washington. A hefty price but her sister deserved it. 

Piper hid against the side of a dilapidated building, crouching down as she tried to keep to the shadows. He held her pen tightly in her grip. 

"Where’s the money you stole from me?” A voice snarled, the person behind it kicking a man in the stomach, before holding their gun up and cocking back the trigger. “I won’t hesitate, you know that, don’t you? And after you’re dead we know where your family lives.” The voice threatened. The man stumbled over his own words. 

“Please don’t hurt them! I swear I don’t know where the money is! I didn’t take it!" 

"Wrong answer.” The loud echo of the gunshot rang through Pipers ears, causing her to gasp without her even knowing it came from her mouth. The person she’d been spying on, the ‘Boss’, saw her. She gulped trying to hurry to her feet but she was grabbed by the bosses minions. They made their way over to where Piper was standing, stopping when they saw the familiar cap and coat of their old reporter friend. 

“What are you doing here?” The Boss asked, their voice softer than it had been when shouting at the now dead s.o.b. 

“Blue? Is that you?” Piper couldn’t believe her eyes. It couldn’t be them. She’d been assured that they were dead. She’d been told they’d been a victim of the Boss. The other reason she was chasing the story. “I thought you were dead.” She choked out, nearly sobbing at this point. Sole shook their head. Piper snapped back to her senses. “Please tell me you’re not the Overboss. Please tell me what I saw wasn’t what I saw.” Sole’s eyes met the ground. “What did you get yourself into?" 

"Its me, I’m the Overboss and what you saw… You can’t tell anyone about it. Do you understand me, Piper?” Sole noticed the notepad in Piper’s hand. “Give it to me.” Piper shook her head. 

“You don’t scare me, Blue." 

"No? I know where Nat is. I know what she looks like. She’s make a great protege. Or maybe I’ll just kill her.” Sole shrugged. “Your choice.” Piper’s face scrunched up in disgust. 

“You wouldn’t. She’s a kid." 

"Do you really want to find out?” Sole threatened and Piper looked down at the ground. She tossed her notepad to the ground. 

“I can’t believe I ever trusted you. You’re a monster." 

"No. I’m just the Overboss. And you better remember that." 

Preston: Preston had been guarding the parameter to Sanctuary when he was grabbed, by heavily armed and armoured Raiders. He fought so hard to get them off but he couldn’t call for help. When he had managed to bite one of the raiders hands he had been knocked out with the butt of their pipe rifle. 

Preston slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he let his eyes adjust to the light shining in them. He tried to lift his arm only to find that he had been tied to a chair by tightly wrapped leather belts. He groaned as the pain in his head finally hit him. Where was he?

"This is the guy we got. The one who’s in charge of that big place we were telling you about.” A smug raider, clearly proud of himself, said with a beaming smile, nudging their bosses arm. He winced as he was slapped across the face. 

“Are you stupid?” Preston’s head snapped up as he heard that all familiar voice. He could not believe his eyes. What was Sole doing here? What was Sole doing surrounded by a bunch of disgusting vile people. “I said stay away from Sanctuary hills you idiot. Untie him. NOW.” Sole snapped, making the guy scurry forwards and quickly untie Preston’s bonds. “I’m so sorry about this.” Sole apologised as Preston stood up.

“How could you side with them?” Preston spat. Sole noticed the look of revulsion on his face. “You know what they are like. You know what they do to people and you’re here siding with them? After all we have built you’d throw it all away to be their ruler?” He looked down, shaking his head. 

“Preston. I told them to stay away from the Minutemen. I would never hurt our people.”

“MY people. You turned your back on us the minute you joined forces with these… things.” He sighed, “I’ll never forgive you for this." 

"Preston…” He pushed past Sole, tugging his arm away when Sole tried to reach for him. “Preston!” Sole called after him, but he was gone and he wouldn’t be turning back.

[thiswasinevitableid]

#7? NSFW? Sternclay? Pretty please 🙇‍♀️

7: It’s our one year anniversary fuck how does one celebrate an anniversary of rivalry and one-sided devotion?

Joseph Stern, alias Agent M, has accomplished what no other member of the National Hero Control Task Force has been able to: he has captured a member of the elusive Pine Guard.

The guard has been causing chaos for the better part of two years, bringing important projects such as oil pipeline development, ICE facilities, and start-up construction to catastrophic halts. 

Stern isn’t invested in those projects, but he believes in the greater good, in law and order. 

One member of the guard in particular has caught and held his attention since he first laid eyes on him. Bigfoot, or so he’s called, has eluded most of their security tapes in a way his compatriots haven’t, and has been reported as more than once saving civilians and bystanders from danger.

He also once stayed behind to ensure Stern stayed conscious after sustaining a head injury. Stern has never been able to get an explanation as to why. But after that day, puzzling out Bigfoot’s motives, his past, his personality has become Sterns true goal. 

Convenient, then, that the man is currently strapped, standing up, to a holding table in his base.

“I knew word of those files would get your attention.”  He stands toe to toe with Bigfoot, who growls but says nothing.

“There’s no call for that. Besides, even if you’d managed to infiltrate here without alerting me, there wouldn’t have been anything to steal. All the information on the identity of the pine guard members is up here. I haven’t shared it with my superiors yet.” He taps his head.

“So, you’re bluffing.”

“Not at all. Barclay.” 

Dark brown eyes go wide with concern. 

“Okay, so you got me. That doesn’t mean you got the rest of us.”

Stern sighs, counts off on his fingers, “Mothman is Indrid Cold, Jackalope is Aubrey Little, Cactus Cat is Dani Coolice, Champ is Duck Newton, Hodag is Ned Chicane, Jersey Devil is Arlo Thacker, and Echidna is Madeline Cobb.”

Barclay sags in his restraints. 

“What do I have to do to keep them safe?”

“Nothing. You’re eco-terrorists, Barclay. Even if I wanted to I can’t keep the information I gained secret from my superiors.”

“You could. Like, literally. Just don’t tell them.”

“I can’t do that. I’m sorry.” The apology doesn’t come out as hollow as he needs it to, and Barclay arches an eyebrow.

“Ahem, anyway, you won’t be needing this anymore.” He lifts off Barclays blue mask (one that compliments his coppery beard), not surprised at all by the face underneath yet delighted at seeing it. He’s thought it handsome since the first time he laid eyes on it

The spell is broken by Barclay biting his hand. He yelps, dropping the mask on the floor. 

“That wasn’t necessary.”

“Neither was unmasking me. Jesus, you never struck me as some gloaty douche  but obviously I was wrong.”

That stings, and so Stern turns on his heel with a flourish. 

“Careful, or I won’t share dinner with you.”

“Oh no, no gruel or power bars or whatever you joyless fucks eat for me--do you smell saffron?”

“Yes.” Stern wheels out the small cart, covered platter glistening atop it and a vase that’s too small for the bouquet sitting in it trying valiantly not to tip over. “I made us saffron rice with lamb, and red wine dark chocolate cupcakes.” He removes the cover, feeling rather smug.

“Shit that looks good.” Barclay whispers, licking his lips. Then he looks up, “Wait, made us?”

Oh lord, the confusion on Barclay’s face sends pangs through his chest. What he wouldn’t give to kiss it away. 

“I, well, it has been exactly a year since we met. And I was trying to think of ways to mark the date, and I know you like cooking and food and so this seemed like a good gift.”

“...Did you make us a fucking anniversary dinner?”

“Technically? Yes.”

“Alright, Mister special agent, how am I supposed to eat it when I’m strapped to a fucking table?”

“I could, um, feed it to you? I shut off the cameras in this room so that I could do so without embarrassing either of us.”

“This what you do every Friday, strap random guys down and feed them? Sounds pretty kinky.” Barclay smirks. 

“I enjoy being helpful, something a so-called ‘hero’ should understand. And I didn’t choose a random guy; I strapped you, specifically, down.”

Barclay fixes him with an amused look before shrugging as much as his bonds allow, “Fine, you clearly worked hard on dinner. May as well make the most of it.”

Stern slices a chunk of lamb, offers it to Barclay who parts his lips without hesitation.

“Holy shit, that’s good.” The blissed out look on his face is one of Sterns favorite views in the world. He hates having to pretend like he hasn’t seen it before. 

As he cuts another piece Barclay asks, “You make the bouquet too?”

“Yes. I took some classes on flower language and  arranging a few years back, and I like doing it.”

Another bite, and this Barclay sighs happily before cocking his head, “You just not gonna eat?”

“Guests eat first.”

“I’m a hostage, agent, not a guest.”

“My point stands.”

“Y’know, if you just undid my hands, we could eat at the same time. Make it a real anniversary dinner instead of some repressed man in black feeding me my last meal as a free man.”

“I’m not just any man in black, I’m your main rival. You said so yourself, once. And the answer is no to the unlocking.”

“Well, there goes that option.” 

Stern sees him tug the strings of his woven bracelet a moment too late. He braces for an explosion or a weapon flying at him. 

Instead, reality warps for a nanosecond, and then Barclay isn’t in front of him anymore. Staring down at him is what he can only describe as a Bigfoot. And honest to god, fur-covered, claw-handed Bigfoot.

A Bigfoot that is no longer restrained. 

“You’re, you’re really-”

“Yep.” Barclay lunges, but instead of grabbing Stern he reaches for the cutlery, tossing it up and over the rooms computer center and far out of range.

Then he grabs Stern by the back of his neck, slamming him against the restraint table. Stern retaliates, jumping up and landing his feet against Barclay’s chest. There’s an “oof” but nothing else. Stern tries to catch him with his stunner, but Barclay avoids him easily, twisting his hands behind his back and letting go as he launches Stern into the window. Mercifully it's made of bullet-proof, triple strength glass, so he doesn’t plummet fifty stories to his death.

He’s simply pinned by his nemesis, the city lights thousands of eyes watching his defeat.

“Are you, ow, all monsters?”

“Nope, just some of us. And you’ve put me in a real bad situation, agent.” Barclay growls in his ear, “first by blabbing that you, and only you really did know our secret identities, and then leaving me no choice but to take off my disguise.”

“I, I’m sorry your poor problem solving skills caused you to reveal that Bigfoot is not merely a codenameOW.” Barclays claws pierce his suit, “Go ahead and kill me. I won’t give up any information to the Pine Guard. I’m prepared to die in the service of my agency.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.” He lies

“Nothing you’d miss?”

“No.” 

A rumbling purr in his ear this time, “Not even me?”

“N-no, what, where on earth would you get that idea?”

“Flowers gave you away. Red carnations are admiration, daffodils mean unrequited love, and orange roses are fascination.” 

“That’s a coincidence.” He grits his teeth to prevent the truth spilling out. 

“Not for a guy who admitted he knew their meanings. And you know what else?” He clips Stern’s hands behind his back in cuffs designed to hold the super-strength of Duck Newton, making escape impossible for Sterns normal-human abilities “you put some wild grasses in their to fill the whole thing out.”

“So?”

“Grass means submission. You put all your feelings for me in a vase and gave me plenty of time to take them in, probably thinking it a clever in-joke to yourself. But that one? I’m betting that one was accidental, subconscious. You want to submit. Whether that’s in general or to me I have no clue.”

“Just you.” He may as well confess it. One less secret to carry to his grave.

A low, dangerous chuckle fills the room as he’s spun away from the window and shoved to his knees.

“That what you want, agent?” Barclay replaces the bracelet, becoming human before his eyes, “Want to be a good boy for me?”

He nods, cheeks hot and gaze locked on the floor until Barclay yanks it up by his hair, tearing strands loose from their carefully gelled hold. 

“Aw now, no need for that.” Barclay traces the path of the blush with his thumb, voice mockingly sweet, “know your overlords like everyone to be emotionless, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting a good fuck, even if half the city can probably see it from here.”

“Oh lord.” He moans, the image sending his thoughts, his dignity, his blood, south.

Another laugh, his head yanked sideways to take in the view, “Damn, you like that too, huh? Like the idea of everyone watching while one of America’s finest begs me to fuck his face. Your superiors finding out their best agent is so needy he’d do anything for me to touch him?”

The tears pricking his eyes are from want, not shame, when he chokes out, “yes.”

Barclay turns his head forward, then up. 

“Please, Barclay,  please.”

“Please fuck you?”

“Yes.” He whimpers.

“Nope. Sorry, agent, I don’t sleep with the enemy, even if he gives me the worlds bluest puppy dog eyes. Not to mention, threatening the people I love is the opposite of being a good boy. But since it’s our anniversary, I think you do owe me a gift.” His fingers touch the edge of Sterns mask, “let’s see who’s been tracking me for a year.”

“Wait, don’t-” The mask tears off. The two men stare at each other, frozen, one in surprise and the other in fear.

“Joseph?” 

“Hello.” He wants to look away, to see literally anything other than the betrayal on Barclay’s face.

“I, uh, I imagine this will lose me the title of ‘favorite customer’ at the Coffee Lodge.”

“You, you’ve been spying on us. You’ve been at the Lodge almost every fucking day since June, and you’re Agent fucking M, I, I can’t-” Barclay paces, fingers running through his hair, “Did you start coming just to stake us out?”

“Yes. I tracked your movements, Barclay. I’m ashamed to say I accessed the medical records of anyone in the target area who had top surgery to narrow down my suspects, and eventually identified you as Bigfoot. Once I started getting coffee at the lodge everyday it was easy to piece together who else was on the team.”

“Yeah, and flirting with me probably helped a lot.”

“Uhhhhhhhhm.” 

“Oh, come on, don’t try to pretend that wasn’t part of your investigation.”

“It isn’t. Wasn’t.”  He lowers his head meekly. 

Barclay stops moving, sighs heavily, “Is there anywhere in this damn place that’s smaller and doesn’t have cameras?”

“My bedroom only has one. Just take down the smoke detector on the right hand side as soon as we go in.”

Barclay easily lifts him over his shoulder and trudges down the hall and into the bedroom. Rips the “smoke detector” from the wall, sparks crackling when he does. Then he deposits Stern on the bed and turns his desk chair to face it. 

“We’ve got about forty-five minutes before my ride gets here. Talk.” Barclay sits down, crosses his arms while Stern attempts to sit up straight.”

“Wait, how can you know that.”

A mild smile, “You really think I’d walk into such an obvious trap without an escape plan?”

“No.” He mutters, dejected, “what do you want me to say, Barclay?”

“The truth, genius.”

“You seem to know most of it already.”

“Yeah, but one big piece is missing; why the hell didn’t you write down our identities somewhere the higher ups could find them if something happened to you? Shit, why not just sic a bunch of agents on us when we were all at the lodge making, or drinking, coffee?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Because the lodge was my haven too, alright?” Stern snaps, “I felt understood there, safer than I did in any secret base. And every time Dani laughed at something Aubrey did, or Duck told some corny joke, or you smiled at me, I understood more and more why you all do what you do. I felt my commitment to my work waning. I had to do something to reiterate my belief in it. This was that something.”

Barclay is silent for a moment, taking Stern in bit by bit.

“You want to leave the NHCTF, don’t you?” He leans forward in quiet shock. 

Stern nods, defeated, “I’ve been questioning our methods for some time, but always thought that what we did was in the service of keeping people safe. I’m still not fully convinced the Pine Guard is going about it the best way, but from what I’ve seen, you do a far better job of it than we do.”

“So join us. Help us figure out how to be even better.” Barclay reaches for him, takes his hand.

“You’d ask me to just like that?”

“Most of us like you, Joseph. We’re not super into Agent M, but it’s not like we haven’t noticed you’re not chasing us down as much as you used to. Also, I’d be a really crappy superhero if I didn’t at least try to recruit the smartest man I know to our side.”

Stern blushes more than necessary at the compliment. 

“Okay. I’m in. I’m ready to try being a different kind of good guy.”

“Welcome to the Pine Guard.” Barclay presses the secret hinges on the cuffs, and they drop to the floor. 

A fit of giggles in Sterns throat pours out into the space between them, “Jesus, I didn’t think betraying the government would feel so liberating.”

“Always knew you were a good guy, deep down.”

Another blush has him cursing his capillaries. 

“Heh, you do like it when I call you good.”

“Yes. Though as you observed, I have a weakness for humiliation as well.”

“Y’know, we’ve got a little bit of time still.” Barclay leans back, and Stern perks up when his hands hit his belt.

“And it is our anniversary.” Stern sinks to the floor, covers a few inches on his knees to rests his head on Barclays thigh.

“Shit, you really are a needy little thing.” Barclay shifts and wiggles awkwardly in order to get his close low enough to give Stern the access he needs. Stern nuzzles his inner thigh, skates his hands along muscular legs, making a mental note to discover what they feel like naked and tensing in time with their owners moans. 

“You’re rather, uhm, slick already. Is this where you tell me you got into heroics because you get off on fighting?”

“Nope, just on manhandling you. And you’re in no position to comment, agent.” The growl he puts into that last word has Stern melting forward. Which is helpful, in that Barclay shoves him down the rest of the way. He licks and sucks eagerly at him, moaning messily when Barclay tilts his hips up, pressing and rutting against him. 

“Like I, fuck, said babe, you’ve got no room to feel smuggAH--shit that felt good--amazed I didn’t walk in on you in the lodge bathroom with some dudes dick down your throat while another one fucked that tight ass.”

Stern would like to point out that a) he would never do such a thing in a business he respected and b) there’s only been one dick he’s wanted anywhere near him in months. But he doesn’t dare pull away. Instead he whimpers, shakes his head and takes all of Barclay’s cock into his mouth.

“Hnnnshit, maybe I got it wrong, maybe you, fuck, were one smile away from falling to you knees and begging me to fuck you over the counter.” 

Stern nods emphatically, pawing at any exposed skin he can find on Barclay stomach and hips,  and the larger man laughs.

“Fuck, much as I wanna hold you down and come all over that handsome face, got something else I wanna do even more.” He lets go of Sterns head, nudges him back so he can join him on the floor. 

“Wha-ohshit’ He gasps when Barclay rips the front of his pants off, wrapping one large hand around his cock. But when Stern tries to thrust up into the warm, tight fist, Barclay pins his hips down with one hand. There’s such easy strength in the movements that Stern tilts his head back to rest on the spotless bedspread, because baring his throat feels like the only suitable response. 

Teeth just sharper than they ought to be sink into the base of his neck, but even as he arches and thrashes in response, he can’t get any stimulation on his cock. Coarse coppery hair tickles his skin as Barclay laughs, “Cute how you think that’s enough begging to get what you want.”

“Barclay, please, I, I’ve wanted this for months, it’s all I want, I will do anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Poor special agent, so desperate.” Barclay’s tone is cruel as he drags his hand up in one long, slow stroke. Stern eagerly awaits a downstroke that doesn’t come. 

“Well? Gimme one good reason to indulge my pathetic new plaything.”

“I, I, I’ll be good, so good for you, let you do whatever you want, fuck.” The barest movement of Barclays hand and he sobs, “please, I just want to be good, I just want you to use me, god, please just tell me what you want.” 

“Admit you’re a needy fucker who likes the fact the other cameras in this building can probably hear him begging me to-”

“I am, I need you so badly, I need this, I want you so much, I need youOHyes, yes.” He groans happily as Barclay switches to rapid strokes and drags one of Sterns hands between his legs. He keeps his fingers outside for the time being, focuses on circling his thumb and dragging the other digits in tight patterns.

“C’mon handsome, jack me off, show me how much you like your reward oh fuck, fuck, Joseph, that’s it babe, fuck that’s good.” His head drops to mouth at Stern’s neck with a moan as he grinds against Sterns palm, “shit, shoulda asked you out last week like I was planning to, coulda been doing this every night, yeah, ohyeah.” As he comes his grip on Sterns cock tightens, and even as he rides out his orgasm he’s growling, “come on agent, lemme see you ruin those fancy clothes.”

Stern comes with what sounds, to his ears, like a pathetic cry. Yet as soon as he spills onto his stomach and Barclays hand, the larger man kisses his chest, whispering sweetly, “You’re so good, did so good for me baby, you’re amazing.”

With unsure fingers, he brushes a strand of loose hair from Barclays cheek. Barclay looks up, smiling so tenderly Stern worries he’s dreaming. Then Barclay sits up, cupping his chin and drawing him into a gentle kiss, sighing happily when their lips meet. 

“Is it selfish to be happy that you joining the team means I get to see you everyday?”

“Not in the least. Though you see me most days at the coffee shop anyway.”

“Yeah, but now I get to do this” another kiss, somehow twice as tender as the first, “when I do.”

Stern curls into his arms as he continues, “guess we oughta get you a codename now.”

“You know, I’ve actually given that some thought. Given that only some of you drew your names from cryptids or, um, I suppose your true forms, I think there’s room for a codename that reflects my history with secretive government agencies while staying on theme?”

“I think so too.” Barclay smiles expectantly. 

“In that case,” Stern grins back, future brightening ahead of him for the first time in years, “just call me Roswell.”

[danielxrk]

                ✞ YOU NEED ME *     I DON’T NEED YOU 

-- before --

life is a whirlwind. he foolishly spent the early days of april breathless and hoping for respite, thinking surely, god would take pity on him and make april a month of peace. maybe, finally, something that shook him to his very core wouldn’t happen month after month. maybe he could move past a drunken kiss with a boy on valentine’s day, and past that boy’s appearances on nova’s new survival show-- past a confession of love from a different boy the month after. maybe he could move past all of the extra time spent with joohyun, her delicate hands still wrapped around some piece of his heart, despite all of it-- despite that heart being torn in a hundred different directions more than ever. he’s always been flighty in love, always hesitant, always uncertain, but this is worse. maybe he’s spent two months with a certain sickness in his stomach that just keeps getting worse.

he doesn’t think much of the announcement of trc’s new auditions; in fact he’s almost certain he won’t go. there’s too much going on his life, both on an interpersonal level and with empty enigma, namely their new album in its final stages. if he didn’t want to be a trainee during the mgas, he certainly doesn’t want to be one now. and yet he can’t say no to joohyun, and a mutual pact that if he goes she’ll go. if that wasn’t enough, jinah encourages him to go, too. hehow does he always end up here? 

at first, he makes the same mistake as he made with the mgas too: thinks there’s no way he has what it takes to get signed, and vows to do his best. he practices his dancing with joohyun, and it brings back memories of similar on the mgas, and maybe he’s even worse now. she does her best, and he’s grateful for her, but as the days go on, fear takes root. he fears another audition-- a contract in his hands. he fears stealing opportunity from others where he doesn’t want it. he can’t settle on a performance anyway until he decides he’ll just stand on stage with his guitar. he’ll sing and rap, but if he doesn’t dance, surely he can’t win. surely he’ll get to stand on stage, then go home, and return to his life as he knows it. (what is life as he knows it now? he doesn’t know.)

joohyun probably suspects as much when he doesn’t ask for her help with his dancing anymore, and when he plays guitar for her instead. sure, he could do both, but he won’t. he doesn’t tell her, either.

-- april 14 --

sundays at his mother’s church of choice are always filled with a certain tension for daniel. whether it happens or not, daniel always feels some kind of torn apart by her, and her friends, and the church that preaches less love and more perfection. still, he suffers through it for his family’s sake, and knowing that because he does this, his mother lets him go to church with his grandmother the other three weeks of the month.

the drive home is uneventful, and daniel relaxes, glad the worst part is over with. (but the worst is yet to come.)

they eat lunch, dad drifts away to do work, mina goes upstairs to her room, and it’s daniel and his mother. they clean up the table together, collecting dishes and silverware, and it’s when his mother passes him, returning from the kitchen back to the table, that she stops. she grabs him by the bottom of his ear, and he tenses on instinct, despite not knowing what comes next.

“are your ears pierced?” she asks, and her voice is equally piercing.

“yes...?” he answers, because the evidence is there. there’s no point in lying about this.

“why?” she has that look on her face: the raised eyebrows, the tongue laced in criticism, the heavy, inevitable disappointment. “daniel, where have you been?”

what lie does he spin now, to join the others? i’m going to study, i’m going to work, i’m going to the library, i’m going to haknyeon’s, i have work, all to cover up empty enigma shows and rehearsals and album preparation and friends she wouldn’t approve of and the fact that he’s raising a dog with a girl that she does like, if he remembers right. when does it stop?

now, he decides, finally. he is carrying too much weight around. soon his chest will cave in, if he doesn’t get rid of something. this has to be it. “mom, i have...a lot to tell you.”

so he does. he tells her that he loves music, and that he’s in a metal band-- about empty enigma, and that they’re his best friends, some of the best people he’s ever met. he tells her it’s been a year and a half, that he hasn’t been going where he’s told her, that he’s been performing shows, and going to rehearsal, and working on an album, but that his grades are still good-- that he can handle it-- that it’s okay.

she looks at him in silence for long, deafening seconds. his ears ring, and he meets her gaze, not fearless, but anticipating. “okay,” she breathes at last, and he lets out a breath of air the tension kept in his lungs. “i’ve raised you how i thought i should. it’s your life, and you’re old enough to make your own choices, so you can do what you choose with it.” he’s so relieved. is that it? he gets his hopes up.

“but,” and it comes crashing down again. he hangs on every word. “if you want to do this, you won’t do it while under my roof.”

he expected it. no, he expected worse, really. in this there is a promise that their relationship will continue as it has so long as he moves out, and if he’s going to make choices without her approval, that he needs to take steps to be entirely independent. as the moments stretch on, he thinks it’s fair. he understands, and if she can’t accept this about him ( oh god, there’s so much worse she might need to accept) then he doesn’t want to live with her anyway.

“okay,” he agrees, but it still stings.

he doesn’t have an apartment, and he doesn’t know what to do, so he calls the first person he thinks of-- the first place he would want to go in a situation like this: ha sungwoon.

he doesn’t hesitate as long as he should. he calls, and when sungwoon picks up, he resists the word sorry on the tip of his tongue. “so, i told my mom about the band. she wants me out of the house today. do you guys...have space for me on your couch?”

-- after --

it’s not as bad as it could be. it’s not as bad as he expected, daniel, always expecting the worst. the empty enigma members are still his best friends, and they still assure him that it’s no trouble-- still welcome him with open arms, and he claims he isn’t upset. he doesn’t think he is, but he knows he needs them, anyway.

it’s not even as bad with sungwoon as it could be. maybe they’ve gotten their awkwardness out of their system, as much as they tried to play it off like nothing was wrong in front of the other guys to avoid questions. he doubts they succeeded, given the sheer amount of concern for sungwoon daniel has been unable to shake since his birthday, trying to tiptoe the line of taking advantage of his feelings and treating him the same as he did before. by the time he’s sleeping on his couch, though, things feel almost normal, or he can delude himself into thinking so.

kenta helps him with apartment hunting, and minhyun makes sure he’s eating well, and jihoon offers his own form of support, in his typical nonchalant jihoon way, or maybe daniel just finds the consistency he brings comforting in a time of such turbulent change. 

he still feels that weight on his chest, though unveiling his secrets to his mother provided some relief. maybe it’s spending so much time around sungwoon that makes it progressively harder to breathe, or the ever-present fear that he’s overstaying his welcome with his friends, or his sudden dissatisfaction with the song he’s practiced for the triple threat challenge, on top of everything else, but eventually he just needs to speak. minhyun becomes his unfortunate victim, and he tells him everything-- not naming names, of course, and the burden becomes easier to carry when it’s shared with someone else. he’s grateful.

still, he considers backing out of the triple threat challenge altogether. he just doesn’t know if he’s up for it, and yet there’s some tiny flame in his soul that craves the stage again, as daniel, away from empty enigma and his storm of feelings and fears surrounding them. so, he does what’s natural: overhauls his performance and starts preparing a new song five days before the performances.

he doesn’t have anything against empty enigma; he loves them with all of his heart, actually, but he’s introverted, and spending so much of his time around four other guys takes its toll, not even considering the one that’s in love with him whom he himself has undetermined feelings for (???). he wants to perform without them, and this seems like his best chance.

so he’ll do it, and he’ll do it with confidence, throwing caution to the wind.

-- after --

even with all of the performers preceding him, and their talent, he isn’t shaken. it’s different from the mgas; he doesn’t feel so out of his element here, though he’s far from a triple threat. he never claimed to be, and he won’t. instead, he feels oddly settled-- ready, even as he cheers for joohyun and tries to maintain his composure during her performance. he sees other familiar faces too, both among the performances and those who haven’t performed just yet.

they call him up to wait backstage, and he does, trusty guitar hung over his shoulder, fingers tapping on the body of it, without a pick-- just him, his guitar, and his voice. just daniel, though maybe he’ll bring a little bit of cameo too.

he’s up next, and he strides onto the stage, and grins when he looks out over the crowd. empty enigma’s venues are always smaller-- darker lit. this is more reminiscent of the mgas, and he feels at home instead of daunted (though maybe still a little daunted.)

“i’m kang daniel,” he greets. again. do you remember me? he wouldn’t be surprised if no one remembers, but he hopes they do. “this is an ed sheeran song.” he’ll leave the title as a mystery for now.

he starts strumming, a quiet sound, and launches into the rhythmic singing-rapping style:

cause with the lyrics i'll be aiming it right i won't stop until my name's in lights with stadium heights, with damien rice on red carpets, now i'm on arabian nights because i'm young i know my brothers gonna give me advice

you need me, i don’t need you is a song with more spunk than daniel originally thought he was cut out for. who is he, someone no company has need of, to stand on stage and claim ‘you need me, i don’t need you?’ no one, really. he doesn’t know if he means it, though he doesn’t think he does need a big company to love music and succeed with it. empty enigma may be far from a famous, fortune-producing band, but they have their fans, and they have their heart in it, and that’s what matters to him. that’s what he wants to pursue, more than anything, and the longer he practiced this song, the more he believed it, even with all of its references he didn’t always understand-- even with its rapid-fire english that sometimes still felt more comfortable to him than korean.

but still, there’s very little time to breathe.

long nighter, right height and i gone hyper never be anything but a singer-songwriter, yeah the game's over but now I'm on a new level watch how i step on the track without a loop pedal

he made small alterations to the lyrics during the preparation process to reflect him more, kang daniel, so it felt believable, because the song is nothing if not genuine. at it’s core, it’s about staying true to yourself, about not changing for others, and maybe he needed to perform this song instead of the one he practiced before it because it’s so relevant. it’s for his mom, and anyone that would look down on him for loving music, not just something cheeky to sing to tiger jk’s face, though that’s an added bonus. (maybe, once the familiar performance bravado fades, he’ll feel embarrassed. maybe the gall will disappear, and he’ll be left with that even more familiar, ever-present fear. for now, he doesn’t feel it.)

people think that i'm bound to blow up i've done around about a thousand shows but i haven't got a house plus i live on a couch so you believe the lyrics when i'm singing them out wow, from day one i've been prepared with V05 wax for my silver hair so now i'm back to the sofa giving a dose of what the future holds

again, the relevancy. it’s only fitting he sing-raps a song about living on a couch while literally doing so, and that he can sing this is evidence of his growth. he says silver hair, a reference to cameo, his still ultimately secret empty enigma stage persona, with ease, something that would’ve paralyzed him with fear around six months ago. for him, what the future holds is empty enigma’s album, and if this performance is at all impressive, they’re so much stronger together. 

i’ve still got a rucksack full of old clothes, i rap with the cold flows i’m back with the old jokes, in fact you don’t know ‘em tracks that throw blows and make my punchlines relevant if you can’t keep up you’re getting on my ??? my flow’s developing, skin lacks the melanin give me a shot of adrenaline and i get it in do it for the hell of it  ‘cause ever since i hit the mainstream with team c i seem to sell a bit

yes, do it for the hell of it, like he’s doing this, right now. he wrote in a reference to his first team on the mgas, too-- team c, perhaps the only team that didn’t come up with a special team name that first week, replacing ed sheeran’s original mention of his first single, the a-team. it seemed only fitting, if this song is about his journey now, too, and he wants it to be so.

i took my ??? back with the women then i package the image put in some content, then i sold it back as a gimmick the fact is this end up dating actresses wake up on dirty mattresses i think i need to practice this

this is the part of the song he can’t relate to as much, because as flirtatious as he is when cameo is on stage, and in the after-parties after, he does not wake up on dirty mattresses (except for that one time.) he didn’t rewrite it though, instead, keeping it in to keep the rhythm the same, and because it just seemed to suit the song. it wasn’t worth changing. 

the song is so fast, he doesn’t get a moment to rest from it, his mouth spitting line after line one after another. when he first started practicing, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, like he was having an allergic reaction, and maybe he isn’t really a good enough rapper for this. maybe he didn’t give himself enough time to practice (though he already knew the song well before he even considered performing it, so that helped). in the end, it’s fun, and that’s what matters most.

the next part might be his favorite:

but i make shit happen, call me a laxative world’s on my shoulders, i don’t even know what atlas is hot bars sharp like the cactus is i’m back to rapping back to back ‘cause i’ve been practicing i’m baptizing this

if only because he gets to say shit in front of tiger jk, and he will bear the consequences, should they come. he’s already censoring the song further down the line, and if he’s going to be ballsy enough to sing this song in the first place, he’ll be ballsy enough to sing the word shit, damn it. the whole world was on his shoulders before he stepped on this stage, but he feels lighter now, suddenly, and he’s been practicing too. rapping wasn’t a skill he really knew he possessed until now, but one he found himself enjoying, and dare he say, with a natural knack for. maybe some of that empty enigma screaming transferred over, and he wouldn’t be daniel without some reference to christianity, would he?

finally, the chorus comes, and it’s the closest thing to a break he gets, returning to the more familiar comfort of all out singing.

cause you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you at all you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you, no

it’s the first time he sings the words, and what the guitar crescendoed to up until now, and he keeps a confident, borderline smug look on his face-- tries to look toward tiger jk and make eye contact. if he’s going to do it, he might as well sell it. he’s heard the ceo appreciates boldness. maybe he’ll entertain him, at the very least. or maybe the ceo will think it’s massively disrespectful. time will tell.

i'll keep my last name forever, keep this genre pretty basic gonna be breaking into other people's tunes when i chase it and replace it with the elephant in the room with a facelift slipping into another rapper shoes using new laces i'm selling CDs from my rucksack aiming for the papers selling CDs from my rucksack aiming for the majors nationwide tour with just jack, still had to get the bus back clean cut kid without a razor for the moustache

another opportunity for him to change the lyrics to something to better suit him, because he admittedly doesn’t know what just jack is. his guess is a band that ed sheeran toured with, but he couldn’t come up with something that suited both himself and the song, so he kept it. empty enigma hasn’t done a nationwide tour, anyway; they’re all just big dreams. they’ll still just be selling cds from a rucksack and aiming for the majors.

i hit back when the pen hurts me i'm still a choir boy in a thin church tee i'm still the same as a year ago but more people hear me though according to the naver and youtube videos

lyric changes this time: fenchurch to thin church, taking a brand name he didn’t understand to something that reflects his background, and how his first real introduction to music was in church-- how he first sang in a church choir and his mom only let him listen to christian music for the longest time. he changed myspace to naver, something more time-relevant and daniel relevant. a year ago was before he set foot on the mgas-- before he even knew he loved music, while he still wasn’t even sure if he loved empty enigma. he still thought it was all a phase, and something he’d escape from, eventually returning to a life of safety and monotony. even with the events of 2019, he’s still glad for that year of difference. he’s thankful.

the guitar all but cuts out, nothing but daniel’s voice and a few accents from strings for the next part:

i'm always doing shows if I'm not I'm in the studio truly broke, never growing up, call me rufio melody music maker, reading all the papers they say i’m up and coming like i'm effing in an elevator

ah yes, there it is: the elevator line, something he would not have the courage to sing by himself in the bathroom, let alone on stage in front of tiger jk and at least 100 people, were it not for the power of cameo. with this extra bravery, he sings it casually, as if it’s the same as the other hundred lines he’s spit. what’s more important: he’s been working his ass off for music, as the lyrics suggest, and he’ll find fulfillment in that, with or (preferably) without trc’s help, that much is certain.

in comes the final hit of the chorus, the figurative sigh of relief and sign of his two minutes up on stage, jam-packed with content, coming to a close. it’s the explanation point on the end of a performance he poured his heart into, both now and leading up to this.

'cause you need me, man, i don’t need you you need me, man, i don’t need you