It's Probably Not Stockholm - Tumblr Posts
Art by @elgrajaz of his precious oc creepy guy. Clearly he's completely normal and is full of only happy sunshiny memories. Ch 7 of Overcome on Ao3.
“Don’t tie me down,” Trouble whined, reaching up. He stroked his captor’s neck and cheek with trembling fingers.
“If you keep still for me, I won’t have to.”
Trouble’s eyes filled in relief and he nodded against the stranger. It was too dark for him to make out where they were, which room he was being brought into. He yelped when he felt the man bend to lower him and tried to cling with an arm around his neck.
“I need to get some supplies for you.”
“Why?”
“You’re hurt. I can’t tend to you if you’re going to resist.”
A shudder ran through Trouble, but he obediently lowered his hand to his own chest, letting whatever was about to happen, happen. He gasped in surprise as the stranger settled him on a soft surface.
“Stay here.”
“Okay,” he whispered, eyes wide though he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face. Trouble felt around with his hands, brow furrowed. “Is this a couch?”
Art by @elgrajaz of Trouble. He enjoys getting handsy with his food. The roped up cowboy, Paris, is a former victim and an oc of the artist. Gotta read Revenge if you wanna find out what happened to Paris. Ch 11 of Overcome is up on Ao3. Git you sum.
“Eff?” he whispered, looking up at him with a small smile.
“What is it?”
Trouble motioned with his free hand for F to lean in closer.
“What’s the matter?” F’s brow was furrowed. “You’re so quiet. Are you tired, or thirsty?”
This time, Trouble tangled his fingers in F’s hair as he pulled him into a kiss. It took a conscious effort to be gentle; he was so accustomed to biting. When F returned the kiss, Trouble whined softly, lips parting. He shivered as F’s spicy scent flooded his nose and mouth. His fingers slipped free of F’s hair so he could drape an arm around his neck instead.
“Hey.” F pulled back enough to get word out, leaving them both panting into each other’s faces. “You’re supposed to be restin’.”
“‘M lying down,” Trouble replied at once, ears relaxed back and eyes glassy.
“I meant,” F tried to straighten, but the arm around his neck flexed to keep him close, “you shouldn’t be movin’ around.”
“Then don’t make me,” he mumbled. “Come lie down.”
“What?”
“Eff.” Trouble wanted to sigh as F tensed up, but he stroked the side of his neck instead. “Don’t you like kissing me?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not,” he insisted, smiling. “You won’t.”