kidnapcutie

kidnapcutie @ 2007-11-24T01:21:00

2007-11-24T08:38:14Z

title - number of the beast
author - kidnapcutie
fandom - patd
pairing - jon/brendon
summary - besides that he was patient, never hinting and never asking, just waiting until he was eventually yet utterly redeemed.
warnings - illegal shenanigans, AU, wandering POV
disclaimer - this is only fiction.

6661

an - lesbianicqueen, alice091, beachsidebingo; here's to you.

He slipped away quiet, quick, disentangling to leave Brendon snoozing away the afternoon. It's not that he hated goodbye, he hated the way Brendon begged him to let him free, even when he shut an unlocked door behind him. He'd thought too hard over that miniscule detail, but he always pondered over Brendon until his head hurt.

It was like he still wanted to play poor Jon's prisoner, without ever being let free. When he murmured soft and slow, "You can go, you know,", he just clung closer and faked a little snore.

Whenever he walked out the door, Brendon would say "Please let me go".

The way he held onto his fingers until they slipped away screamed "Please don't leave me."

Whether he waited for Jon's return or what exactly Jon returned with, was entirely unclear. Not counting the way Brendon's hands hooked searchingly in his front pockets when he tugged him in for a quick kiss. Besides that he was patient, never hinting and never asking, just waiting until he was eventually yet utterly redeemed.

He spat another fingernail, made an effort to pause his tapping foot, glanced from the door to the clock, door to the clock, door to the clock. Lather, rinse, and repeat, and repeat, and repeat. He wished he held an ounce of Brendon's patience, but his skin squirmed like a million maggots in the sun and every thought dwindled down the same beaten road. Where is Vick, when's he gonna be here, did he get busted, did he get any at all, did he get hit by a car and left to die, did they take his stash before they left him to the vultures, did--.

"They come together like butt cheeks," Vick drawls as every anxious pacer rushes to him when he dangles a bag of salvation above them, like a guiding star even to Jon's dazzled eyes.

"Give it," snarls Dot as she hops up to snatch it from his teasing fingertips, slapping money to his dingy shirt, "You're the messenger boy, not fuckin Moses."

"Suck my dick crack bitch," he spits venomously, hypocritically because even his eyes linger on Dot's curled and concealing fist as he stomps off. A door slam echoes back through the house and she scurries to sink at the coffee table, the other half dozen or so herding behind her like kids at Christmas.

Generosity is another virtue he adds to his wishlist, when Dot dishes out everyones' share and then cuts half of her own into 8 thick rails. They filter out slowly, all with what they paid for plus a pick me up thanks to Dot and her rotted grin. Vick makes a begrudging return to the living room, but she spots the spoon, the tourniquet, the needle and goes doe eyed just like that. They tell Jon to stick around a little longer, and he doesn't deny.

The steering wheel slithers under his palms and the road rolls like waves when he finally journeys back to Brendon. He wonders if the boy ever woke up while he was away, as he draws back the coverlet and siddles down beside him.

Hazy eyes slowly, sleepily greet him and it stabs deeper than any needle, hurts better than any needle. And Brendon might only stay for the insides of his pockets, but tonight he only stays to curl up close and drift back into dreams. Jon thinks that's enough to live on.

kidnapcutie @ 2007-11-21T17:53:00

2007-11-22T00:52:52Z

title - number of the beast
author - kidnapcutie
fandom - patd, I think.
pairing - jon/brendon I spose
summary - straining against restrictions to breath it up, so deep he must've been leagues beneath the sea before I paid him any mind.
warnings - illegal shenanigans
disclaimer - this is only fiction.

an - sooo. it's been 1+ yrs since I've written or posted. this is inspired by spun obviously, and if anyone fancies it I may be compelled to write a little more. enjoy.

Soft curves to fat bold lines, monotony melting into a heart attack upon my senses, seizing my lungs and drawing every element of me out onto the undulating sea of satin sheets. My corrugated mind buzzes in my skull, a rat in a cage, olfactory nerves shrieking as they blaze, gloriously.

His sad squeals drown the hum of fast fire rushing through me, each wheezing breath a Santa Ana breeze to my combustion. Cold needles of his sweat stab when I nuzzle against the pond between cherry topped planes of flesh, quaking little lines of Satan's sweetest sugar nestled between each emerging rib, artistically.

Is it the way the rope rips and raws his wrists, or the way each pretty pile disappears as I sniff like a Dyson?

I contemplate as I take cat naps of no more than 5 secondsminutesmonths between each inviting rail, the far off fear he might break free and take my fire hastening. A test perhaps, will calm my compunctions, and against my twitching rat's greedy will, I lift just a sniff.

Like an owl, his everything narrows to the offer, straining against restrictions to breath it up, so deep he must've been leagues beneath the sea before I paid him any mind.

And my lips. They must've braved the Sahara, cracking and shuddering as they twitch up into a smile at his youth. He shivers back into oblivion, frail body calming beneath me, heaves and twitches subdued just by that teeny allotment of heaven I allowed.

So young, so fresh, so easily appeased, I savored every aspect.

It was my doing in the first place to break that single bond of innocence, but one was all I would allow myself, even with him at my will, bare and bound beneath. His Mormon little mind was one I happened to cherish, I would take every aching baby step to make sure it was all mine.

A bout of affection overtakes me then, savoring the way he flinches, when I nuzzle my rough face to the slender column of his throat and slide rough clammy hands down the curves of his sides. Affection is overthrown quite quickly, when his shuddering breaths breeze over my ear and the tender flesh against my lips presses closer. His absent-minded mewl of pain shoots through me like lightning, squeaking to a stop when I lock jaw around his throat, teeth sinking deeper with the threat of crushing him out of existence.

His hummingbird heart pounds against me, but I free him only when his gasping little breaths cease and thick black lashes clash with alabaster cheeks. But his pulse still pounds, only suddenly sleeping, and so I settle beside him.

I pet back soft locks of midnight and lay fleeting kisses of restraint over the elegant curve where neck meets jaw. I touch, tentative and tasteful, so as not to wake or violate the dreaming id. I break his bonds and gather him up against me, cradling close and careful, so I can pour my everything into the soft shell of his ear by murmurs of terror and hate.

"But I love you Brendon," I reassure in a hushed tone, nudging the boy's nose gently and stroking shakily, reverently down the line of spine, "I love you more than anything in this entire, fucked up world. I won't ever let you leave me."

kidnapcutie @ 2006-10-03T22:24:00

2006-10-04T04:24:31Z

Well...I've just about flopped on LJ. The web in general; life is busy. I have no time ~~or interest~~ to write anything, but I'm itching to. I need that push or spark, I dunno, something to kick my ass and say, 'Type or I'll cut your fucking fingers off!'.

I shouldn't push it. It'll happen when it happens. I'll just lurk some more in the fic communities, though having to wade through a ridiculous amount of crack stories is really, disappointing? It's like every fandom I used to love has gone to shit. Guess that happens with everything though.

I really only get to keep up on my writing skills through roleplaying, which is slow as of late, apparently roleplay communities have all gone to shit as well. I know I ask every post but whatever; PSL?

And damn, I just realized I haven't written a thing since May :/ depressing. I sort of want to get back into the uO-dom, but for some reason I really really liked writing Patrick/Travis best. Re-reading that Syn/Zacky, I hated it, I never liked the pairing and I shouldn't have written it in the first place because it came out awkward and stupid.

I dwell and ramble to much.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-08-09T00:11:00

2006-08-09T06:23:44Z

Is it legal to disown fics?

If so, I disown SLC and BtB from here on out. wtf was I thinking?

kidnapcutie @ 2006-08-05T14:06:00

2006-08-05T20:13:11Z

back in the saddle with nowhere to go

deprived of writing/rping for a month so, feed me.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-05-25T16:58:00

2006-05-25T22:58:26Z

Title - Blood on the Bathroom Floor
Author - kidnapcutie
Fandom - A7X
Pairing - Zack/Brian
Summary - Drabble in Zack's POV about juuunk. AU.
Warnings - Language
Disclaimer - Only fiction, I own nothing.

AN - First Zack/Brian, first fic outside of the AM! line in awhile. Short as fuck, and not so well written. Vaguely based off of this relative living in the room next to mine. Sorry about x-posts.

--

You were happy once. You married the love of your life seven years ago, adopted her daughter, had two boys with her, built a beautiful mansion of a house with her. I don't understand it, you could have had any woman you wanted and you knew it, but you were so fucking absorbed in that bitch you didn't know up from down. You didn't see her downfall at all, how she became an alchoholic pill popper who pointed her finger and lost every friend she made while she ruined your children. You saw her for the angel she was, was. Seven years ago that is.

Do you forget that you were happy with me once, too? You couldn't have stayed with me? So what if we couldn't hold hands near our workplaces or conceive a child of our own, we were in fucking love. Was I not enough for you? Was it because I didn't have huge fake tits and bleached blonde hair? I mean, I honestly don't know what else you saw in that bitch. You're such an asshole, you know that? You had no remorse when you left me for her, you acted like there was nothing between us in the first place. You ruined me, you son of a bitch.

I bet you wished I was there when she left you, took your kids and all your money. I bet you wished I was there when you moped around your pig sty of a mansion for a month, all alone. I bet you wished I was there when you cut yourself up with those kitchen knives and spent hours tiptoeing around the white carpets. I bet you wished I was there when you tried to hang yourself from the garage door frame. And the shower. And your youngest child's empty closet.

Just a bunch of fuck-ups. Sounds like the story of your life.

You're pathetic, you couldn't even manage killing yourself. And what's even worse is you topped it off by hooking up two zip ties around your neck and yanking them as hard as you could. What a cheap way to die; zip ties. Even then you freaked out like a pussy and managed to cut them off. The hole was as big as my wrist by the time you did, no wonder your eyes were bulging out like that at the hospital. Your mom was the one that found you a couple hours after you'd passed out, on the bathroom floor in a little puddle of blood. The poor woman must've had a heart attack.

Why couldn't you have just died? You'd have been off my back forever, and everything we had would be washed from my hands. I'd be better off without you living down the street from me nowadays, with fake tits number two and another doomed child on the way. Seeing your car parked in the driveway of your quaint house framed by a perfect lawn is like a punch in the fucking face every morning I look out the window. I can't live with myself knowing that I'm not enough, that some blonde bimbo will always be better than me, that I can't just reach out and touch you anymore. You're not mine anymore and I've given up hope that you ever will be again.

And for everything you've done, for all your ignorance, for all your idiocy and for all your fall-in-love-and-never-let-me-go charm, I hate your fucking guts, Brian Haner Junior. Rot in hell.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-04-24T16:25:00

2006-04-24T22:26:16Z

Blah, I need to write :\

Help meee

Edit: And I want a bitchin PSL, right now. I'm flexible and will play nearly anything/one.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-03-18T19:55:00

2006-03-19T03:04:29Z

Bust out the expensive champagne and party hats people! We've hit number four!

That's right, now please direct all congradulations and kudos to sorrowdead for ripping me off for the fourth time.

Now, I think I've humiliated her face off of LJ but I happened to run into this fresh meat over at fandom. The story is at least different then SLC this time, but it's odd how she can't stop stealing this one itty bitty thing.

Here's the original chunks of mine;

'A sigh resounded throughout a small, box-like room as the boy in it looked himself over in a full length mirror. He messed with his long, soft black hair and rubbed some smudged eyeliner off of his cheek. He clicked his viper hoops against his teeth as he rubbed his full lips together..'

'He glanced at his beloved Misfits clock and his eyes widened, seeing as it was 3 and his shift started in 5 minutes. '

And here's hers;
A small, soft sigh echoed off the canary yellow walls of the empty hallway, escaping from the pierced lips of sixteen year-old Zackary Baker, Zacky if you weren't an upset parent or teacher. He sat in his best friend since diaper days, Brian Haner's hallway outside his closed bedroom door. He ran his slightly calloused fingers through his dark, recently dyed hair, It was just a few minutes past six o' clock or so the hands of his beloved Misfits watch said.

I know it's not much this time, but SERIOUSLY, hasn't she learned to just stay far, far away from my stories?

Tell me I'm not making a big deal out of nothing here.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-03-18T02:38:00

2006-03-18T09:38:54Z

Title - Eden Quest
Author - kidnapcutie
Fandom - FOB/GCH
Pairing - Patrick Stump/Travis Schleprok
Summary - 'A man doesn't kiss another man, especially not a black man.'
Warnings - Vague smut.
Disclaimer - This is only fiction, I don't own Patrick Stump or Travis Schleprok, nor do I own the song.

AN - Numero tres in the line of Against Me! stories. Inspired by the Cupid's Chokehold video I just watched, and then I listened to AM! while making brownies and this song just clicked. J;mvajsdfjOIFd this is why I love AM! so much, one song and I'm out of my writing slump. Pshaw, they're my muse. Plus that Gwen Stefani ft. Andre 3000 song, 'Long Way to Go' is fantastic, and is much like the theme of this story. Enjoy, reviews and CC are adored. I wrote it all in one go, so sorry for the crapiness.
P.S.-Here's a pic of Travis if you don't know what he looks like, herrr....I KEED I KEED! Haha, it's really right here.

Someday accepted as you for you.
Someday accepted as me for me.
Someday blind eyes will plainly see.
Someday all walks of life will be free.
Someday the meek will refuse boundaries.
Someday the blessed will be the deserving.

Land of burning vision, the nightmare before my eyes.
The sore of the truth attacking the body of lies,
The light of the proof overcoming jaded minds.
You can lie to yourself, you can abandon the world,
You can pray on the cure nature's judgement still stands.
Pray to the stars, cry to the sky, demand an eye for an eye,
Do you save sight, or ease minds?

Land of burning vision, the nightmare before my eyes.
Eden Quest for proof, Eden Quest for light,
Quest for explanations to the suffering of life.
Never been a night so cold; never been a day so bright.
Spit in the face of the courteous oppressor
Like a slap in the face from the do-good master.
Till the last bite, till the last breath, till everything is free.
Till you accept me for me.

Heads turned and sneers formed as a mismatched couple walked past. An invisible hate assimilated as quickly as their steamy breaths disappeared in the cold wind. Whispers into rosy, cupped ears of disgust and sudden spite. Heavy glares that penetrated thick winter coats; thick enough to keep out Chicago cold, but not thick enough to keep out boundless, unfounded hate.

Did they not see the uneven hands twined between the two? Did they not see the glances that passed between them, filled with enough love to rival that of the blind hate around them? Did they not see the way the smaller one pressed to his partner's side only to be held close and protected?

They didn't, and even if they did, it wouldn't excuse the fact that the couple before them was not only gay, but bi-racial. It was downright wrong to be gay, and even among heterosexuals, interracial relationships were a hushed no no.

A man doesn't kiss another man, especially not a black man.

---

The weight of their eyes weighed down on Patrick like a ton of bricks, and trying to hide against Travis' side didn't help. Travis would lean down and coo reassurances in his ear as he bore what he felt was the weight of the world. But Travis was his demolition man, helping him remove the ton brick by brick. He'd squeeze Patrick's small hand gently, or pull him just a little closer, or kiss the top of his head affectionately. And it helped even in just the way Travis would stare straight ahead as they walked, tall and proud with the very white and very male, love of his life at his side.

Patrick could only sigh in relief as they ducked into their apartment complex, the empty halls and staircases now an uncharged solace. He relaxed a little more as Travis tugged him up the stairs playfully, an unspoken safety rule that you never took the elevator in this place. Travis hunkered down on his knees and Patrick wordlessly climbed onto his back, squealing with laughter as his stead started to gallop up the stairs.

They burst into their shared apartment loudly, wild breathing and soft laughter. They both calmed down and just soaked in the warmth of their home, away from the hard stares and empty halls as the place practically buzzed with happiness. From the worn in furniture, the organized clutter, the constant buzz of cartoons, the smell of food, the open doors, to the pictures of the couple wrapped up in each other strewn all over in random frames. The apartment simply screamed 'This is safety! This is home!'.

And whether it was from the satisfaction of being where they belonged or suddenly sparked hormones; the two were practically undressing each other with their eyes. Travis slowly backed Patrick down the small hallway and towards their bedroom, loving the little sounds Patrick made as he towered over him that were a mixture of fear and excitement. He grinned as Patrick just gave up and bolted into the bedroom, diving onto their bed and under the down comforter. Travis pulled his clothes off quickly as he followed him, leaving a random pattern on the hallway floor.

Within moments, Travis had Patrick exposed and breathless beneath him, hungry gaze roaming the pale, adorably fleshy body that was all his. And no matter how many hours they'd spent lying comfortably naked together, Patrick would still blush furiously and try to cover himself up only to have his hands gently batted aside. Travis would lavish him with attention for hours, just mapping him out with hands, tongue, teeth, lips, eyes. Patrick would shiver and twist at each exruciatingly good touch, tightly grasping the broad shoulders that hovered over him as if they were his life raft.

Travis would further nudge apart the soft thighs that encased him; Patrick's eyes telling him all he needed to know. The only noise in the room would be their mingled breaths and a sharp gasp as Travis sank the willing body beneath him. Patrick's small body would arch up against Travis as he coped with the throbbing pain, head thrown back onto the pillows, frail chest heaving with each breath he took. Travis would pet and soothe him, murmuring things of love and affection while he waited for him.

Soon, they'd be moving together effortlessly in perfect synchronization, sweat slicked and whispering the other's name. Every movement, touch, thrust, was charged with emotion like they were wordlessly communicating through feeling and skin. They made love at a slow, almost leisurely pace, just milking the moment for all that it was worth, slow as if they had forever. And when they did reach their perfection, they'd grab at shoulders and hips as they cried out in bliss, a name or utterance of love mixed somewhere in the incoherent mess.

They'd fall asleep curled up in each other, happier than any amount of acceptance or approval could make them. There was nothing wrong or disgusting about the contrast of olive and cream skin when the legs and arms were so tangled up that you couldn't tell who's was who's. And there was nothing wrong or disgusting about the fact that they both had a dick between their legs.

It's all just skin and limbs anyway, but what matters is blood. The two men had a love so deep that it pumped through their veins, they lived and breathed off of it. They were the same in the sense that everyone of every race, gender, creed, all bleed the same and they all love the same and they all die the same.

---

~~Join this new comm because you love me~~

kidnapcutie @ 2006-03-14T22:33:00

2006-03-15T05:35:17Z

Sick of the monotonous roleplay communities where it's all the same characters being played over and over? Especially sick of bad roleplayers?

Join ____justagame@gj for an active, fresh new roleplay where the overplayed characters don't exist and the players are skilled.

JOIN THIS RIGHT NOW.

officialverdict and my RP. We spent a lot of time on this bitch, so make it worth it. We promise you won't be disappointed.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-02-24T13:25:00

2006-02-24T20:25:38Z

kidnapcutie @ 2006-02-22T21:23:00

2006-02-23T04:23:07Z

Title - Sink, Florida, Sink
Author - kidnapcutie
Fandom - underOATH
Pairing - Aaron/Spencer
Summary - They're known for their faith, but it's a different story when no one is around.
Warnings - Christian boy smut, you know you love it.
Disclaimer - This is only fiction, I don't own Aaron Gillespie or Spencer Chamberlain.

AN - So I'm on a roll with these AM! fics. This one in particular is for indirection_ because she demanded the uO pool sex and deserves it. And by luck I found the perfect AM! song for it, so voila! It's also perfect seeing as how the boys are from Florida, what a coincidence. Oh oh and look, I got a Spencer icon for the occasion haha. Go listen to this song, now.

For those who don't know who these two are, this should help. Here's Aaron and Spencer, aaannnddd here's Spencer's hot bod.

---

Not one more word tonight
between here and there
We'll put a distance the size of the ocean
so now this heart can beat a skipping rhythm
As the cadence carries me
I almost drift away
far enough to forget
but when it comes you cannot hesitate
and when found I will write
an account and seal it in an envelope
addressed to your last known residence

Whoaaaa.
whoa - oh - oh - ah - ohhh
woah - oh - oh - ah - ohhhhh
woah - oh - oh - ohhhhhh

And we sink, and we drown
and what is lost can never be found
well these arms did swim,
until the lungs pulled in
panic was lost in a deep understanding
that you will see what is wrong with everything
what is wrong with you and me
they make all the right reasons to fuck it up
you're gonna fuck it up

Whoaaaa.
whoa - oh - oh - ah - ohhh
woah - oh - oh - ah - ohhhhh
woah - oh - oh - ohhhhhh

Our gazes met from across the pool, the noise and movement of everyone around us seeming to freeze as did the breath in my throat as his thin lips curled up into a feral grin. I looked back down at the water's surface and I felt the tips of my ears burn pink. I knew what he wanted. It was wrong, a disgusting dirty sin, but Christ I wanted it just as much. I try to tell myself I don't, I try to tell Spencer that I don't, but we both know that's a damn lie. I shake my head and say no over and over but the tent in my pants says otherwise and I shut up right quick when pencil thin fingers slip under the waistband.

That's how it always ends up and for weeks I can't get the memory of it out of my head. A whiff of that long brown hair, or a graze of those full pink lips, or the image of him writhing beneath me burned into my eyelids. Funny how he screams differently in bed then he does into a mic. It's not so much a high pitched roar as it is a low, needy sound as if I weren't already fucking him into the mattress. That's how he always is, in bed or not, he always wants more, harder, faster, or else he isn't living. And I betray my God for him so I don't get left in the dust, so I can keep up.

Everything and everyone kept moving around me, leaving me alone since they thought I was in another one of my 'moods'. Sometimes I just like to be left alone, to think, feel, breathe, whatever, I just need my space and the boys have learned that and respect it. I'm not really in a mood right now, I just act like it so one of them doesn't paddle over and see the boner I've already sprung.

It's Spencer's fault really, the way his trunks sag down his slim body and expose those razor-sharp hipbones of his. The way the water gleams on his pale skin and the elegant arch of neck and back as he swims. The way his brown hair turns black when wet and he flicks it back; the stuck together strands reminding me of how his hair fans out over a pillow and gets wet with sweat. The way he talks and socializes so fluently, his voice like a soft ache in my eardrums. God, he's going to be the death of me.

After another hour or so of everyone screaming and splashing, the pool empties and everyone heads back up to their hotel rooms. I lift my eyes from the shimmering water and a gasp leaves my lips as I'm met with the cocoa brown of his, floating just a few feet in front of me. He had that same smirk on and he glided closer, closing the gap between us as he slides his small body up into my lap. He straddles me and his wet hands are instantly in my hair, plump lips crashing into mine hungrily. My arms wrap around his narrow waist and I get a small rush from knowing I could break him if I wanted to, not that I'm that much bigger than him or anything, but just enough. I think he gets off on that too because he seems to love to be dominated, sure he initiates it, but he starts to really get turned on when I take over, pin him down and fuck him senseless.

You never would have guessed he likes being submissive though, not with the way he's shoving his tongue down my throat and grinding his erection down into mine. The logical part of me is screaming at me to push him away and scold him for doing such things in a public place, but the horny teenage part that never went away is screaming at me to bend him over the lip of the pool and rip those sagging trunks down. Then again I can just stay stuck in passive mode and sit there like a bump on a log while he mauls me.

But the way he's tugging at my hair and nibbling on my upper lip pushes me into action and my hands slide pervertedly down the back of his trunks to grip his small ass. It only eggs me on when he pulls back from my lips to moan breathily, thin chest starting to jerk with his uneven breaths. His head tilts back as I squeeze and knead the meager handfuls of flesh and I swoop down to attach my lips to his neck, sucking and biting harshly. I push him forward by the grip on his ass and grind him down into my lap again, our hardened cocks pressing together through the flimsy material of our swim trunks.

Before I know it both our shorts are flung up on the cement and my hand is creeping down between his quivering thighs. He gasps as I tease his rather tiny hole, circling around it before slowly pushing in. Jesus Christ, it never fails to surprise me how tight he is, like a vice around my finger. He drops his forhead to my shoulder and whines softly as I start pumping the digit in and out of him; this always was hard for him. The inner muscles contract as I force a second finger inside of him, his grip on my shoulders tightening as well. I cooed quietly in his ear and stroked the protruding line of his spine as I started to scissors my fingers, stretching the impossible tightness.

This is the part I hate, but I've made it my mission to overcome. I CAN'T EVER FIND HIS DAMN SPOT. Yes, I'll admit it here and now, Aaron Gillespie has some serious g-spot issues. I can poke and prod him for hours and not find it, only bumping into it with a rare stroke of luck. One day I'll make a map and plot it out so I know where to go the next time around. Okay so I've been pondering off about maps of Spencer's ass too much cause now he's panting hotly against my neck and pushing down on my fingers, ready for more.

I slide my fingers out of him slowly and pull his hips forward a little, positioning him over the head of my cock. He's sat up and alert, chewing on his bottom lip and staring at me with a look that plainly says, 'Get on with it'. But instead of just slamming into him, I actually pause to take him in. My eyes devour the wave of dark brown hair that splays out over his scrawny shoulders, trailing down to his pale torso where the skin looks like paper stretched over his ribcage, and back up to his face where his eyes give off an air of confidence and lust that his trembling bottom lip betrays. The look on his face softens slightly as he realizes what I'm doing and he leans in to catch my lips in another searing kiss.

We just sit like that for awhile, wrapped up in each other's arms and lips while he's still hovering over my erection. But it's slow and smooth when we get to it, the water aiding the entry as I push him down onto me. Now he's whimpering against my lips as his body parts to accomodate me and I know he feels like he's tearing in two; he told me once in a hushed voice that's how it feels at first. That elegant curve of his back is arched and shaking as I push in deeper, sliding through his resistances with a bit of effort. It seems to take years as I slowly push into him, just holding his trembling form and stroking his wet hair. He has a death grip on my shoulders and his eyes are squeezed shut tightly, no doubt in my mind that he's fighting off tears.

He's whimpering my name now like a puppy with a hurt paw and I'm fully seated inside this fucking AMAZING heat and tightness and velveteyness and just UGH. I really feel bad at this point because here he is in my lap with big fat tears streaming down his cheeks and all I can think about is getting on with the sex. But I do have self control you know, so I just wait patiently for him to adjust and kiss away his tears and stroke back his moist hair. After quite a long time, his breathing finally evens out and he gives me that little nod of consent, giving me the go ahead. I let my hands slip down the curvature of his sides to grip his skinny hips, holding my breath as I lift him up a few inches before letting him sink back down. And Jesus Christ he's tight. And biting down on his lip with a pained look but he just nods at me again, telling me not to stop.

It's like running in water, you can never really go that fast, movements turned sluggish. But it's just as good and it's nice to feel every little bit of him like this, every flinch and release of his muscles is magnified. It's even better when he starts getting into it, the pain apparently gone, and he's doing all the work. And God is he gorgeous like this, head tilted back and biting on his bottom lip as he rides me. My grip on his sharp hip bones tightens and I repeatedly lift him off of my cock before he slams back down onto it, fucking himself brainless.

"Oh God, Aaron!" he cries out as he angles the downward thrusts to nail his prostate, since he knows where it is and I don't. And I can't help but think he shouldn't be crying out God's name and mine in the same sentence like that, but fuck it's hot. I start to thrust up into him when I feel he isn't going fast enough and I slam him down onto me with such force I'm afraid it'll hurt him. He just moans louder though so I keep the hard dual action going, one of my hands slipping down from his hip to grab his hardened cock. He shudders as I thumb the tip and I can tell by the way he's slowing down that the pleasure is draining him of his strength, but neither of us are no where near there.

His eyes snap open as I lift him off of my cock completely but he doesn't protest as I wriggle out from under him. He just gives me a look over his shoulder as I turn him around and I can see his cheeks turning a tint of pink when I bend him over the cement lip of the pool. Aw, how cute, he's embarrassed. But damn is he beautiful like this, exposed and vulnerable, looking back at me while his small body shakes needily. I shuffle up behind him and line myself up with his entrance, head falling back with a groan as I sink into that incredibly tight heat again. His body locks up around me and I can see his knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the pool, this new position letting me fill him more deeply. I draw back before pushing in slowly, starting off at a leisurely pace just to tease him. He whines and pushes his ass back for more, his forhead dropping to rest on the cool cement beneath him.

After awhile I have a fast pace set again and he's crying out my name as I nail his spot hard with every thrust. I could get off merely on the sight of him moaning and squirming beneath me. I worm a hand between him and the pool wall to grab his cock again, giving it jerky tugs as I snap my hips into him, the slap of skin barely audible over our voices. I know I won't last much longer with him being so vocal and the fact that we're doing this in a hotel pool, and so what if I have a bit of an exhibitionist side.

Before I know it he's tightened like a vice around me and near screaming a mix of obscenities and my name while his hot cum spills over my hand and into the water. I only have a few more hard, uneven thrusts in me before I'm moaning out his name just as loud and shooting my load deep inside him. I try and ride it out as long as I can but I feel like I'll pass out from the pleasure if I don't stop soon. I collapse ontop of his trembling body and reach up to cover his weakly clenching hands with mine. I nudge his wet hair aside with my nose and kiss the nape of his neck affectionately and I can practically hear the smile in the contented hum he makes.

And nothing is wrong, we're perfect like this. We both have our religion but not even God could tell us we're wrong when we feel so fucking right. We've never shared these things but we both know they're there or else we wouldn't keep coming back for more. We need this to feel complete, and fuck everyone who tells us that we're messed up, that we're dirty fags. We're dirty fags that are in love and that's all that matters in the whole entire world.

I grip Spencer a little tighter and kiss his neck again, murmuring in his ear.

"Mine."

kidnapcutie @ 2006-02-20T00:16:00

2006-02-20T07:16:58Z

Title - Violence
Author - kidnapcutie
Fandom - A7X
Pairing - Jimmy/Johnny
Summary - 'What could we have done to deserve a violence like this?'
Warnings - Abuse, rape, the whole shebang.
Disclaimer - This is only fiction, I don't own Jimmy, Johnny, or the song. Just the mouse.

AN - So finally a new fic from me. This is my first songfic, and I couldn't have picked a better band because Against Me! is my current mad obsessive love. This is an amazing song, and I highly recommend you go buy it/download it/steal it/I don't care. Just get it, 'Violence'.
PS-This will be the first in a line of fics all written off of a different AM! song, nifty eh? And I can't seem to stop writing abuse fics if you didn't notice. Oh and this is loosely based off of an RP character of mine. Keep your filthy little hands off of this, Cherri.

Lock the door, to your room.
Pray they don't find us, pray they don't kick it down.
Oh you've been keeping secrets,
and these kind of lies have consequences.
So many possibilities for this to all end badly.
It's almost guaranteed.
Nothing but shame and paranoia.
A slightly desperate feeling to calm you to sleep.

What could we have done to deserve a violence like this?
What could we have done to deserve a violence like this?

And we'll watch the light, coming under the door.
Listen for footsteps coming down the hall.
Are you gonna wake up screaming through a slit throat?
Young flesh searing on a twin mattress.
But it doesn't have to be, the way things end.
We don't have to give up just yet.

What could we have done to deserve a violence like this?
What could we have done to deserve a violence like this?

Johnny stared intently at the door from his curled up spot in the corner of a bare, dirty mattress, doe eyes wide and full of sheer terror. He caught the soft footfalls drawing nearer, quiet as if they were trying to mask their presence. His adolescent body shook so hard he felt his bones would snap into a handful of pieces, the fear and malnourishment soon to be the death of him. He waited with bated breath as the yellow that shone through the sliver under his door was obscured by darkness, smothered by a shadow. The breath he held left his little lungs in an airy whoosh of relief as the figure moved on, the now heavy footsteps retreating back down the hall.

He slumped back down onto the bed, tears of relief and frustration streaming down his sallowed cheeks. His brown eyes followed a mouse's scratching path across the wooden floorboards, having been told once that when chased their little hearts beat so fast that they explode. The fist of an organ in his heaving chest seemed to be beating so fast that it would explode just like a mouse's would, shattering the brittle ribs that encased it. His sluggish gaze drifted up to the ceiling, thin arms wrapped tightly around himself in an attempt to find warmth.

"Why?" he asked himself aloud in the dead calm of the room, soft voice cracking with a lost feeling. He couldn't comprehend why he was here and why God let such things happen to him. He was a good boy, he never did anything to deserve this hand he'd been dealt. Yet here he was, locked in a dark room, child fears thick in the air.

He soon drifted off into an uneasy sleep where he found no solace, only to be ravished again and again through dreams. In sleep, his mind could wander off to the unknown, conjuring up frightening images of what could be and what was, like a stark reminder of the night before. But sometimes things were different, sometimes he didn't wake up in a cold sweat from the nightmares. Sometimes he dreamed about when he was happy and free, he dreamed about his friends and parents and how the world was right then. He dreamed about being free one day and going back home where his mom and dad would cry and shower him with love and affection and he'd never have to leave their arms again.

Tonight was not one of those nights though and he awoke with a scream as the tormentor of his dreams wrapped big rough hands around his slender neck and squeezed till he saw black. His hand shot up to cover his gaping mouth, knowing that his scream was not unheard and probably woke Him up. And again he waited breathless for the repercussions of his noise. Soon their was the crash of a door against the wall as it was flung open, loud angry footsteps down the hall, and then there was another crash of a door and light flooded Johnny's room from the hall. He whimpered and curled up tighter as the tall figured took two strides to the bed.

Johnny started whispering 'No' and 'Please don't' over and over again as the man spread him back out and settled between his shaking thighs. He yelped and his head snapped to the side as the man swung a fist at him.

"Shut up you filthy little slut," he spat, the sound of a zipper being pulled down and more muffled sobs resounding throughout the room. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he tried to go away in his mind, tears already leaking down his cheeks. His efforts to remove himself mentally were disrupted as his legs were draped over broad shoulders and the wide tip of a weeping cock bumped against his entrance.

A scream shot through the house as the man shoved into the small, unprepared body beneath him. He paused only to catch his balance and then pulled out, looking down at his cock and smirking as he saw the young blood that covered it. He shoved back in and started a fast, brutal pace that had the boy screaming and clawing at the mattress till his fingertips started to wear and bleed.

Johnny could only lay there and sob, choking out prayers with each gasping breath he took, begging the lord to kill him now. His frail body jolted up the bed with every hard thrust, punctuated by the animalistic grunts from the man above and in him. He knew it wouldn't end soon, this man was insatiable, so he could only hope he'd pass out soon enough.

After what seemed like hours of the creaky boxspring crashing into the wall, the man's back finally arched, thrusts becoming stiff and uneven as his orgasm hit. With one last groan he came deep inside the boy, riding out his orgasm before slumping down on top of him. Johnny whined lowly as the salty substance irritated the inner wounds, burning like no other. The man sat up after awhile and pulled out roughly, making Johnny wince, zipping himself up before leaving the room as quickly as he'd come.

Johnny laid there staring at the ceiling, his sobs having subsided to a small flow of tears. He felt so dirty, so violated with the blood and cum seeping out of him and dripping down his inner thighs onto the stained mattress beneath him. He slowly rolled onto his side and curled up, hugging himself tightly. His hazel eyes had long lost their luster and they now seemed just that much more slaughtered. They landed on that same mouse scurrying back across the floor and disappearing into a crack in the wall.

A little hope sparked in Johnny as he watched it slither away, a little hope that one day he could be like that mouse and find a way out. He'd leave this house behind and run back home, he'd run until he came galloping up his drive way, fling open the door and launch himself at his mom and dad who would scream and hug him so tight, they'd never ever let go.

"One day I'll go home," he whispered to the crack in the wall.

"One day I'll be free."

kidnapcutie @ 2006-02-19T18:42:00

2006-02-20T01:44:51Z

Okay so I just got the best idea I've had. I'm writing a songfic right now to an Against Me! song, and it seems like every song of theirs is amazing. Soooo, instead of doing some like slashfanfic100 or whatever, I'm going to write a bunch of fics/songfics/drabbles/chaptered fics all inspired by a different AM! song. Sound good? It does to me! I just need some fandom/pairing ideas cause I want it to be pretty spread out. Any suggestions? Please let me know, I'd love you.

EDIT: Anybody wanna beta all of them as I go? Be there to help or something? Give ideas? If so email me at kirito_kam@hotmail.com or hit me up on AIM; kidnappedtetanus. I'd love you.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-02-19T01:13:00

2006-02-19T08:15:25Z

lawl@the new layout pic.

Love it? You should.

Don't steal it, I worked hard on that. Made for an inside rp joke. You didn't really need to know that but you did.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-02-16T12:44:00

2006-02-16T19:48:13Z

Huh, I need a paid account. Bad. I want lots of icons cause I'm greedy like that. But I'm po. You should get me one. I'll write you a fic.

Oh, which reminds me, I have like 3 fics going right now, but I'm really lame so that means I barely ever get around to writing them. I need encouragment. Encourage me dammit.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-02-11T18:29:00

2006-02-12T01:29:30Z

The faceoff of SLC and Bittersweet! In one corner we have the original writer, kidnapcutie in the italicized text! *roars*, and in the other corner we have the copy n' paster, sorrowdead in the bold text! *boos*

Round one, here's the way sorrowdead has ripped off SLC in her second chapter. Ready, set, FIGHT!

He glanced at his beloved Misfits clock and his eyes widened, seeing as it was 3 and his shift started in 5 minutes. He ran down the stairs and out the door, snatching a hoody on his way out. He pulled it on and zipped it up against the bitter cold wind as he ran down his street. He passed a few blocks and finally slowed to a trot as the mini-strip mall came into view, seeing the big sign titled 'Beans & Brews'.

The night was slow, and everyone around him were assholes as usual, yelling at him for fucking up an order here and there or laughing and whispering amongst themselves when his back was turned. Though the night had it's lone perk when a certain customer caught Zacky's attention when he looked towards the door at the familiar tinkling of bells.

He glanced at the black watch on his wrist, his eyes widening at the time as he mutter an oh shit to himself because his shift started at three-thirty and it was now 3:29. Sonny quickly put the cap back on his eyeliner pencil and grabbed his badge from the sink top before shoving them both into his back pocket. He dashed out of the restroom, nearly knocking over one of his co-workers as he rushed into the back room of the cafe. He dropped his things off and clocked in. His boss, Tony, threatened to fire him for being ninety seconds late. Sonny apologized over and over. He couldn't afford to lose his job. Besides that, it was the only place besides school that he had to go to keep him away from the hell most would call home. Sonny pulled on his green apron, picked up his pen and notepad, then headed out to take his first order.

The five hour shift went by achingly slow. It usually did, but today the minute hand on the old clock seemed to stop working. The night was uneventful except for the typical yelling from Tony, who watched him like a hawk, and his co-workers as well as some customers for screwing up an order. The snickers and sneers and taunts from the people around him that made tears well up in his eyes didn't make the time pass by any quicker either.

It was nearing 8:15 when Sonny looked up from the album cover he had been looking though at the sound of bells tinkling as the cafe's door opened.

---

Matt turned and leaned against the counter as he waited for his frapp, eyes roaming the sparsely populated cafe. He got his little perk as well as his gaze fell right on a pert little ass encased in deliciously tight jeans, bent over a table just right. He grinned and crossed his thick inked arms over his chest and enjoyed the view as it wiggled about while the boy wiped the table down. The other kid brought him his drink and tried to say something but Matt shooed him away, not wanting his little show to be interrupted.

Travis took a sip from his coffee as he watched the boy who had handed him his coffee bend over to wipe off a table. That was a nice sight. He almost chuckled as the boy's ass wiggled as he moved back and forth with his wash cloth. Travis was waiting for the right time to approach him. The boy straightened and turned meeting Travis's stare. Travis was unabashed and he smiled slowly. The boy looked a little embarrassed as he moved to the table beside Travis's.

------------------

Round two, here's the way sorrowdead has ripped off SLC in her third chapter. Ready, set, FIGHT!

The night finally ended much to Zacky's relief, and he rushed out the back door quickly the second his shift ended. He shivered as the cold air hit him and he pulled on the hoodie he'd brought. He never saw the group of kids that were leaning against the wall, seemingly waiting for someone, anyone to come along. He walked briskly past them, head down and fumbling with the stuck zipper on the hoodie, muttering curses at it.

"Look at the fag, boys, in fucking girl pants and make-up! Let's show him what real men are like!" catcalled one of the guys in the group, getting whoops of approval from his muscle-head buddies. Zacky broke out into a full run when he heard this, and as he booked it he could hear them all pushing off the wall and run after him. Zack never was much of an athlete and they caught up to him easily, kicking his legs out from under him. He fell to the ground with an 'oomph' and prepared for the kicks he knew were coming by covering his head and curling up into a tight ball.

Zacky bit his lip hard against his cries of pain as they landed blows anywhere they could get at, not wanting to let them know what a good job they were doing. He was so caught up in trying to think of anything other than the pain, he didn't notice when the blows suddenly stopped and his attackers fell down around him like ragdolls. He was forced out of his thoughts when a hand rested on his shoulder, and he jerked away from it, pleading for them to leave him alone.

He turned down a familiar alleyway, taking his recently discovered shortcut to the cafe, without noticing the group of guys leaning against the brick wall, who were seemingly waiting, waiting for no one in particular, just waiting for someone to make a victim out of. Maybe if Sonny had seen them he would have realized that he was the victim they were waiting for. Sonny simply zipped up his hoodie and walked past them without a look back.

Then, as if on cue, Sonny turned at the sound of a familiar menacing voice. "Look what we have here, boys," the guy and main leader said. "A nice little fag wearing girls' clothes!" He called, receiving whoops from the rest of his boys. "Aww, lookie here, he's even wearing make up!" The group guffawed at the comment. "C'mon boys, let's teach this pussy a real lesson!"

Sonny broke out into a full out run at the last comment. As he dashed down the alley he could hear the other boy's quick footsteps resounding off the brick walls as they took off after him. The group caught up to Sonny easily. One of the guys tripped him and he landed onto the pavement with a cry of pain. He covered his head and curled up into a ball into the fetal position, preparing himself for the blows that he knew were coming.

And come they did. Sonny bit down on his lip hard, stifling his cries of pain as they landed blows at any spot of his body they could get at. Tears streamed from his eyes as he took random boots to the stomach and punches to his face. Finally, after what seemed to be hours, the relentless punches and kicks stopped and Sonny's attackers pulled back, snickering and pointing at the bloody and bruised mess they had made of him.
---

A sigh resounded throughout a small, box-like room as the boy in it looked himself over in a full length mirror. He messed with his long, soft black hair and rubbed some smudged eyeliner off of his cheek. He clicked his viper hoops against his teeth as he rubbed his full lips together, and pulled his tight kid shirt down to cover the strip of concave stomach and hips. Another sigh was heard as he turned to look over his shoulder at himself in the mirror, pulling up the tight girl pants that perfectly hugged his slender thighs and bubble butt.

A small soft sigh escaped Sonny's slightly parted pierced lips and echoed off the pale yellow walls of the tiny bathroom. He ran his hand through his longish dark wet hair. He had just gotten out of a rushed ten minute shower after waking up at nearly half past seven that morning, avoiding being late for class which started at a quarter till eight.

Sonny wrapped the powder blue towel he had grabbed from the linen cabinet around his slim waist and tied it loosely. He left the steamy bathroom and padded down the narrow hallway to his ajar bedroom door. Sonny closed the door behind him, letting the towel drop around his ankles before moving toward his small closet. He quickly slipped into a clean pair of boxers and pulled on a kid-sized black and brown shirt over his still damp chest and tugged a snug pair of black girls' pants on.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-02-11T01:39:00

2006-02-11T08:39:44Z

This is getting to be pretty fucking ridiculous.

First SLC, and now Bite the Bullet.

Please everyone, feel free to point, laugh, spit, and yell at sorrowdead.

This is not only the second time, but the THIRD FUCKING TIME THAT SHE'S PULLED THIS SHIT.

First there was Static Feedback, which was word for word of SLC. She was smart and deleted this shit quick once it was recognized.

Second there was Bittersweet, which is still being written and though she ripped my shit off with a little more finesse this time around, there are still whole paragraphs that are nearly word for word. This junk can be found right HERE.

Well she has spread from SLC to, le gasp, Bite the Bullet! Hm, she's one smart cookie hittin up my old fic. The moment I read the summary at SPB, I just fucking knew that it was a rip off of BtB, I mean it has the same exact abusive relationship situation, with someone he meets outside of the house who scribbles his number on a piece of paper. TO THE T. They even met in a fucking library EXACTLY like Conor and Brian did in BtB, cause he was homeless and staying warm there. He tells him nobody will ever want him, he yanks his head back by his hair like Bri did, Zack makes food or whatever to please him like Conor made breakfast, blah blah fucking BLAH.

This is a load of shit and I'm sick of it. I just want to humiliate her to the point that she won't think of pulling this shit again. How the fuck am I supposed to want to write anymore when my hard work is copied, pasted, reposted, and reviewed like it's a piece of fucking gold? But fuck that, I'm not going to stop writing because of some uncreative, thick headed cunt.

If you read Bite the Bullet and you actually liked it, do something for me por favor. Read that lie of a fanfic and tell me what you think, tell HER what you think. You will seriously have my full gratitude and love. Bitch her out on aim for all I care, because nothing I or any of the mods do is seeming to penetrate that big head of hers.

And if Cherri is reading this, I seriously dislike you and you should just give up now if the only decent thing you can write is stolen. You're seriously stubbing out my writing inspiration because I know that in the end it'll just end up in your hands to rip off as you please. So tell me what the fucking point of taking my time to write it is? For you to steal and be showered in praises? I'm sick of it. Pull your head out of your ass and just stop.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-02-10T14:11:00

2006-02-10T21:31:10Z

So yes, I'm back in action. Hopefully. I'm known to have some great idea and then drop it halfway through. I'm pretty sure that won't happen this time though, it's a one shot and all.

I'll keep it a surprise, but I'm pretty sure people who liked SLC will be...disappointed? I don't know, but all I'm saying is it's alot different. It'll be smutty, fucking finally, I couldn't fit a good, hard sex scene into either of those chaptered fics, but I was determined to write a one-shot just for it.

I noticed that most people take to fics where the submissive role and the dominant role are clearly defined, they really like to have a whimpy bitch and a manly man, you know? That's how SLC was, to the max, but this fic is completely opposite. And it's a rare pairing that I was always intrigued by. So, that's all I'll say for now, I just thought I'd update people on my hibernation and all.

kidnapcutie @ 2006-01-10T22:46:00

2006-01-11T05:46:47Z

le gasp, what is this?...

Title - SLC
Author - kidnapcutie
Category - A7X
Pairing - Matt/Zacky
Summary - Matt lost Zacky forever...Or did he?
Warnings - Sappyness I spose.
Disclaimer - This is only fiction, Zacky probably didn't meet Matt in a coffee shop and Matt probably didn't stare at Zacky's nice ass, but whatev. I don't own anyone at all in this entire fic so don't sue me, kthnx.

( Chapter 1 )
( Chapter 2 )
( Chapter 3 )
( Chapter 4 )
( Chapter 5 )
( Chapter 6 )
( Chapter 7 )

AN - So, after inboxes upon inboxes filled with hatemail, I have ~~been demanded~~decided to write an alternate ending. This kinda goes whichever way you want, it's like an alternate ending but you can also take it as the real ending. Everyone must know that the idea for this chapter is not mine, it's closely based off of a private story line of SLC, rp'ed by johnny_shadows and all hail syn, who have given me permission to go ahead and use it. It's very fitting in my mind and I hope it somewhat makes up for the shitty ending I gave you. Love you all to bits and pieces. Enjoy.

---

It had been 2 long years since that night Zacky was ripped from everything he'd grown to love, since he'd been stolen from Matt. After that night, he had practically disappeared off the face of the earth, leaving no trace of himself behind. He and his kidnapper, who Zacky soon learned was named Edgar, fled into South America just a few days after. He was unwillingly forced into Columbia's drug trade, mostly just doing the less dangerous job of being the half-way boy, delivering the drugs and returning money. Of course, Edgar being the complete idiot he was, fucked some big-wig drug dealer over and had a handful of mercenaries after him. He took his precious boy toy and fled back up into America with the last of the drug money.

That was where Zacky's seemingly doomed fate took a twist. They'd loaded onto a van packed with illegal immigrants, crossing over into San Diego, and Edgar was still sleeping from the long journey. The van suddenly stopped in a deserted parking lot, letting out whoever needed to go to the bathroom for a few minutes. Zacky edged out of the van unnoticed by the other exhausted men and women and he ran. He ran so hard he felt that every brittle, malnourished bone in his body would shatter, that his poorly preserved lungs would cave in.

By the time he reached civilization he was covered in sweat, tears, and dirt, shoving into a brightly lit convenient store and collapsing on the spot. He woke up to a kind-eyed Middle Eastern man holding a damp cloth to his forhead, dark weathered face pinched in concern. The man helped him up and fed him a few potato chips with a fountain drink before giving the distressed boy a handful of money and sending him back out the door with directions.

Throughout the long, seedy bus ride to Huntington Beach, Zacky couldn't stop thinking about the man in the convenient store. Whether it was from the kindness of his heart or his Islamic faith where he would only be fulfilling his annual almsgiving, Zacky didn't know. He didn't really care either at this point, all that he cared about was finding the home of the man the store clerk had given him directions to, saying he was a close friend who owed him a favor. Zacky could only hope that this was his break, that his life would finally start to look up.

---

And here Zacky is, 6 months later, ironically working in another low-grade coffee shop with another staff full of pretentious assholes. He worked his hands to the bone everyday, plastered on the biggest smile he could muster in hopes of getting just a bit bigger of a tip. Nearly every cent he earned was quickly stashed away, barely feeding himself in favor of saving each penny.

It was all for Matt Sanders, the love of his pathetic life, the man he thought about every moment of every day, the man he dreamed about every night. Through every scary moment of the past two years, he clung to the hope he'd see his Matt again. He survived each day by thinking of how good it would feel to be in his arms again, to be back where he belonged. And now he finally had a chance to do just that, he had a job and a place to stay till he could afford a trip back to Salt Lake. Even if he had to work till he was 50 he'd still spend it all on that one plane ticket.

Zacky was snapped out of his Matt-filled reverie by the all to familiar bark of his boss to attend the customer. He gave the burly man a curt nod and scurried up to the front, planting himself in front of the cash register and keeping his gaze to his hands. See, after all this time Zacky was still the same shy little boy on the inside, not that the malnourishment helped with the physical part of that either, but Zacky had kept the part of himself he knew Matt fell in love with locked away, untainted by all the dirty hands. The heavy footfalls and raspy 'hello' made him look up, the same fake smile plastered on his pierced lips.

Dual gasps filled the room, both figures stepping back with a hand over their mouths. Before Zacky stood the love of his life, the ghost of his dreams. Before Matt stood the object of his endless search, his prince.

Zacky practically threw himself over the counter at the man behind it, being caught with frantic arms and pulled into a hard chest. They held onto one another as if they were each others life raft in an endless sea. The moulded forms both shook with silent sobs, Zacky's the first to take on a pitch, his cries echoing throughout the coffee shop. They sank to the floor from jelly knees, both clawing at each other in a way that made it seem like they were trying to mesh their bodies into one, trying to push through the barriers of flesh and bone and become something more so that they could never be torn apart again.

The world disappeared at that moment, time and place and people becoming nonexistant. The only thing that was real were the two men sitting huddled together on the dirty floor, sobbing their hearts out to the world, wanting to somehow make sure this was real and not another sick illusion of their loneliness. Once their ever-questioning conciouses had been appeased by the flesh and hair and cloth beneath their shaking fingertips, they finally pulled apart.

They mapped out each others' faces, re-familiarizing themselves with features they once had memorized to the pore. Matt let out another sob as he looked into those deep green eyes for the first time in two and a half years, finding the same Zacky he thought he'd lost behind them. His rough, trembling fingertips brushed over chapped lips and the same hoops that adorned them, then up over elegant cheek bones, dipping into the heavy hollows beneath Zacky's eyes. Zacky begged Matt to say something, say anything, just so he could hear the sound he loved so much, the way it sounded as if his larnyx had been shredded with a pepper grinder, but somehow smoothed from years of use.

They turned once again into a sobbing mess of a puddle, frantically exchanging vows of love and how long they'd been searching for each other and missing each other. Once they'd regained an ounce of composure, Matt scooped Zacky up like he'd been wanting to do for two long years, and stood on shaking legs. Zacky wrapped his arms tightly around Matt and buried his face into his neck, whispering in his ear.

"I'm yours again, I always was. Nobody can ever take me away from you again, nothing can keep us apart. Take me with you, Matt. Take me home."

kidnapcutie @ 2006-01-08T23:49:00

2006-01-09T06:49:36Z

fuck school in the morning and fuck any and all hopes I have of getting some writing inspiration.

out

kidnapcutie @ 2006-01-02T20:42:00

2006-01-03T03:42:08Z

kidnapcutie @ 2005-12-19T21:08:00

2005-12-20T04:08:05Z

Thanks to an uncreative bitch, fcknxcore, I'm considering making my journal friends only.

She blatantly copied the first chapter of SLC, very very nearly word for word, and just substituted my pairing with a FFTL pairing, which also enrages me because A7X is beyond better, and that little ass rat Sonny puts Zacky to shame.

She had the nerve to add me to her LJ and to her myspace, and then steal my fic!

Lucky for her she deleted it, but fuck that, I'm still going to publicize her huge mistake. She's a fraud and I can only imagine how many other people's shit she's ripped off.

And thanks to those people that tipped me off about it as well as defended my fic. I love you guys beyond belief and I appreciated it, really did.

/end-rant

EDIT: Thanks to indirection, I found out she posted her piece of shit of Fandomination.net too, which is like a double blow cause I fuckin love Fandom and I've been on there forever. Sooooo, if you anyone wants to help me out and oh so kindly review her copy-n-paste fic, I'd be delighted. And if she doesn't delete it soon, I plan on MST'ing it. Plus, she seems to have racked up alot of fics, and being the unoriginal cunt she is, I'm betting the majority of them are rip offs. I'm not really familiar with any of the fandoms she's posted in though, so I can't say. Maybe you could though.

Here's the link to MY original fic, SLC

And here's the link to her 'fic', Static Feedback, and here's her profile deadme

The bitch even copied my summary! Goddammit, I'm fuming right now.

kidnapcutie @ 2005-12-18T18:49:00

2005-12-19T01:49:25Z

kidnapcutie @ 2005-12-10T00:45:00

2005-12-10T07:45:06Z

Title - SLC
Author - kidnapcutie
Category - A7X
Pairing - Matt/Zacky
Summary - He always gets what he wants, when he wants it. And right now, the only thing he wants is that boy from the coffee shop with the tight pants and adorable shyness.
Warnings - Tid bit smutty.
Disclaimer - This is only fiction, Zacky probably didn't meet Matt in a coffee shop and Matt probably didn't stare at Zacky's nice ass, but whatev. I don't own anyone at all in this entire fic so don't sue me, kthnx.

( Chapter 1 )
( Chapter 2 )
( Chapter 3 )
( Chapter 4 )

AN - This is for the reviewers as always, cause I get all behind on updating and then I think, "Fuck it, give it another week" but the reviews just keep on coming in so I pretty much have to update. I love you all. Don't laugh at my use of 'thug' here, it's very fitting. And holy fuck, I think this is the longest chapter I've ever written for anything. Yay for me.

---

Fast forward 6 months...

Meet Zacky Baker. A timid, quiet, scrawny, effeminite 16 year old with one of the most elite social standings in Salt Lake City. He is always at the heighth of posh and beauty, though maintaining his youth and modesty. He's never seen anywhere but on the arm of none other than Matt Sanders, thus he is treated, ironically, like a prince. He's the boy everyone wants, but remains the illusive, untouchable china doll beside Matt. Even at school, he gets lustful looks and adoring sighs when he walks through the halls, but everyone knows never to even think about pursuing him. That's well established when Matt picks him up from school everyday and walks him to his Escalade with a possessive arm around his slender waist, shooting menacing glares at anyone caught staring. Oh and yes, he'd moved in with Matt, seeing as his mother was never home anyways and she didn't really mind after being wooed into it by Matt.

Now meet Matt Sanders, the most notorious thug in all of Utah, at the highest class of a the fucked up social scale. He wasn't that prim, trim, proper asshole a man in his position would normally be. He was still the same old Matt, with a growing canvas of tattoos on his body, and more holes than ever. Though his 'badass' nature was what made him so appealing to the richies, like an exotic pet they had to add to their collection. He wasn't as attainable as planned, and he still did as he pleased, despite their displeasure at the way he refused to conform to their snooty ways. The only reason they kept him around was for the beautiful creature he was never seen without (and his services of course, even the rich and famous have enemies), and the only reason he stuck around was for the free food and booze every dinner party or so. Plus he'd always gotten a kick out of making people like them gasp in shock or cringe in disgust, like when he'd burp at the dinner table loudly.

And that's exactly where we find Matt and Zacky now, seated at a long table filled with the most untouchable figures in society. There had been many attempts to involve Matt into a conversation about some shit or another, though he was too deep in his conversation with Zacky about Miss Cleo to care.

"They put Miss Cleo in jail cause she was reading the president's mind and selling government secrets to North Korea, I heard it on MSNBC," Matt said with a grin, making Zacky burst out into a fit of giggles. Zacky blushed and looked down at his hands when everyone turned their gaze towards him, having interrupted their conversation. Matt just laughed and leaned over to press his lips to Zacky's, pulling his attention back. Zacky smiled as Matt pulled back a little, their forheads and noses still touching.

"Let's get outta here, I'm bored as shit!" Matt said loudly and stood up, holding his hand out to Zacky. He giggled a little and took the offered hand, blushing again when Matt pressed a kiss to it before pulling him to his feet. He turned to the table full of shocked faces with a smirk and gave them a sarcastic salute. He picked Zacky up like his bride, and their laughter rang throughout the ornate house as they left, leaving their hosts shaking their heads in embarrassment.

---

"Mattttyyyy!!" Zacky whined, hands on his hips and looking down the basement steps disapprovingly. Matt groaned and hopped off the kitchen counter to find Zacky as the top of the basement stairs.

"What?" Matt gave him a disbelieving look that he'd just made him get off his ass and walk all the way over here. Zacky frowned and pointed at the stairs before crossing his arms over his chest like a ticked-off house wife.

"You tracked blood all the way up the stairs again! Now I've gotta clean it cause the whole 'the dog got a cut' thing didn't fly so well with Loretta last time." Zacky said, a shapely eyebrow raising as referred to their rather frightened maid. Matt rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in defeat.

"I'll clean it, I'll clean it" he said defeatedly, though he still thought it was cute the way Zacky's little hips were cocked and he was tapping his foot impatiently. Another thing he learned about Zacky was that he was a clean freak, and maybe even a bit of a germophobe. He grinned and slinked closer to Zacky like a cat stalking a mouse, laughing when Zacky's eyes widened and he turned to bolt for the living room. Matt took the chase and ran after him, following him all the way through the house close on his tail. He eventually gave up when he completely lost Zacky, and he figured he'd be hiding somewhere by now.

"Oh Zacky Zacky Zacky Zackyyyy!!" He called out like he was beckoning a dog, tiptoeing quietly up the stairs. He heard a giggle and the thudding of running feet heading towards the master bedroom. He grinned, liking where this was literally going, and slipped into the room. He pretended like he didn't hear the muffled laugh from the hamper (yes Zacky could fit in it) and slowly went around the room.

"Might as well give yourself up to me, cause I'm gonna get you one way or another!" He said slyly as he opened the closet door with a swift jerk, looking around in it before closing it again. He peeked into the bathroom and 'hmm'ed to himself, pacing around the room and tapping his chin in thought. Zacky watched him through the flimsy white wicker clothes hamper, it having been empty and a perfect place to hide. He muffled a squeak as Matt slowly made his way over to the corner of the room where the hamper was. Matt quickly flipped open the top of the hamper with a triumphant smirk, looking down at curled up little Zacky who was smiling back up at him innocently.

"Gotcha! You should've surrendered though, and I wouldn't have to punish you," he said menacingly, reaching down into the hamper to haul Zacky out from under his armpits. Zacky squealed with laughter as Matt threw him over his shoulder and carried him to the California king they shared, trying to crawl away when Matt dropped him down onto it. But Matt just climbed onto the bed and followed him up the bed, pinning him against the headboard.

"You've been a bad little boy, Zacky" Matt growled softly while settling between Zacky's slender thighs and leaning down to nip at his ear. Zacky giggled and pushed at Matt's broad shoulders playfully only to have his thin wrists pinned to the headboard by one of Matt's large hands. He whimpered and squirmed as Matt's other hand creeped up under the hem of his shirt, knowing he was extremely ticklish. Matt silenced him with a deep kiss, pushing his tongue past Zacky's plump lips to rub against his own tongue. Zacky moaned into Matt's mouth as rough, calloused fingers played with his sensitive nipple. Matt pulled back from the kiss and let his lips trail to the place beneath Zacky's ear that he knew made him writhe.

"Matty, that tickles.." Zacky protested weakly as his eyes slipped shut, just enjoying the feel of Matt's lips and hands on him. Matt sighed against Zacky's soft flesh, wondering and hoping that tonight would finally be the night. Yes, they still haven't gone any further than touching and some grinding (besides in Matt's dreams anyway). Zacky wasn't ready to make that step, and Matt still loved him for it, so he'd let Zacky move at his own pace.

Matt let Zacky's hands go and rolled over, pulling Zacky up ontop of him. Zacky smiled and leaned down to suck on Matt's bottom lip, playing with the solitary hoop that went through the right side. He let his hands roam over Matt's chest, being able to feel the cut of muscles even through the cotton shirt. He shyly let his fingertips play with the edge of Matt's slacks, stroking the skin above it lightly.

"Matt? I-I..think I'm ready.." Zacky whispered into Matt's gauged ear, his trembling fingers reflecting his nervousness. Matt nodded a little and pulled Zacky back to look him in the eye.

"Are you sure, baby? Don't do this if it's just to please me, you know I only want you" Matt said seriously, brushing a few black strands from Zacky's cheek, who nodded.

"Yea, I'm sure, but..do you think it's ok if we don't go all the way tonight? I'm just n-not ready for that yet.." Zacky asked nervously, fingers now fiddling with the hem of Matt's shirt.

"Of course, love. We'll go as fast or as slow as you'd like" Matt murmured as he gently kissed Zacky's forhead. Zacky nodded and Matt rolled them back over, settling between his thighs again. He engaged Zacky in another kiss as he let his hand find it's way back under Zacky's shirt, slowly inching up his body. They broke the kiss and Matt pulled the kid sized shirt off of Zacky before sitting back to admire the pale little body beneath him. Zacky blushed under Matt's stare and pulled him back down for another kiss, sighing as their bodies pressed together. Matt broke the kiss again to trail his lips down over Zacky's jaw, and down his neck to place butterfly kisses over his collarbones.

Zacky let out a small moan as Matt's lips ghosted down his torso, making goosebumps rise on the soft skin. Matt let his hand rest on Zacky's ribs as he kissed and licked the spot just above his belly button, making him giggle and squirm. As he distracted Zacky, his fingers expertly undid the button and fly on his tight jeans. He went back up to Zacky's lips and gave him a peck while his fingertips brushed the now exposed skin.

"Is this okay?" Matt asked breathily as he played with the bare, smooth skin, knowing the kid didn't wear underwear with those tight-ass pants. Zacky nodded, swallowing hard as little bolts of pleasure stemmed from each spot Matt touched. Matt smiled softly at Zacky's reaction to his touch, and he pulled the tight pants further down Zacky's hips with one hand while his other trailed over the skin in the wake of his pants.

Zacky took in a sharp breath as a big hand wrapped around his erection, gently squeezing. His eyes slid shut and he couldn't help but press his hips up against Matt's hand, moaning when he started to stroke him slowly. Matt watched the small body beneath him react to his touch so potently, thinking that this was a million times better than his dreams. He pulled Zacky's pants all the way down his shapely legs and cast them off the bed, finally having all of Zacky. He sat back again to admire the sight of the pale body spread out over crimson sheets so starkly, vulnerable and breathless, all for him. He quickly shed his own clothes, almost feeling a blush of his own come on at the way Zacky shyly admired his body.

He leaned back down to catch Zacky's parted lips, pulling the pierced bottom lip between his own to suck on as he discreetly reached over to his nightstand to retrieve the lube from the drawer. He coated two of his fingers as he kept Zacky engaged in the kiss, nudging his legs apart a little further. He pulled back as he brushed the tip of his covered finger to Zacky's entrance, watching his eyes widen in surprise.

"How about this?" Matt asked quietly, feeling Zacky flinch as the tip of his finger rubbed against the small pink hole. Zacky's breathing thinned out a little at the unfamiliar sensations pulsing from down there, but he nodded his consent to Matt. He couldn't help a yelp of pain as Matt suddenly added pressure to the rubbing, the wide tip of his finger breaching the extremely tight ring of muscle. Matt kissed Zacky softly as he let him adjust to the invasion, knowing that fingering probably wasn't the best way to start off seeing as his fingers weren't exactly dainty.

Once he felt Zacky relax a little, he started moving his finger in and out against the tight resistance. He couldn't help but think about how bad it'd hurt the poor kid if he ever did decide to have sex with him. He was tighter than hell. Matt took ahold of Zacky's erection and slowly stroked him as he moved his finger in and out, feeling him relax even more. He withdrew his finger and pressed his two coated fingers into Zacky's warmth after lots of pressure, kissing and stroking the pain away when Zacky yelped again.

"You okay, baby? I'll stop whenever you want." Matt cooed to Zacky while petting his hair back, keeping his fingers still inside him.

"No no, keep going. I'm fine." Zacky said firmly, looking up at Matt with determination. Matt nodded and pulled his fingers out slowly, the lube letting him slide back in easily. He kept a slow, steady pace that Zacky soon became accustomed to. Matt smiled as he felt Zacky move against his hand, meeting the strokes halfway. He shifted the angle and crooked the tips of his fingers, feeling that little spot bump against him. Zacky gasped as an intense feeling exploded in his gut when Matt's fingers brushed against something.

"Do th-that again" Zacky said breathlessly, back arching up off the bed as Matt obeyed and stars appeared behind his eyes. Matt grinned triumphantly to himself as he pushed on Zacky's spot again, loving the way he squirmed over the satin sheets. Matt kissed his way down Zacky's lithe body while his fingers moved quickly in and out of him.

"M-Matt!" Zacky cried out as he felt a warm wetness envelop his erection, tripling the pleasure. He looked down to see Matt smirking up at him, lips wrapped around his hardness. He moaned and couldn't help his hips lifting up against Matt's mouth who let him move in as deeply as he could go. Zacky reached down and threaded his fingers through Matt's dark hair, lightly tugging on it as that spot inside of him was hit again. Matt scissored his fingers against the tight velvety walls and gently scraped his teeth over Zacky's length, getting a little whimper in return.

Zacky suddenly felt an overwelming surge in his gut and he tried to pull Matt away, but he stubbornly stayed. The pleasure reached it's peak and Zacky arched off of the bed with a cry of Matt's name, cumming into his mouth. Matt milked his orgasm, fingers still moving inside of him till he was twitching at each touch. He swallowed all of Zacky's cum and slid his fingers out from his weakly clenching body. He kissed up Zacky's frail, heaving chest and caught his lips in a deep kiss.

"Wow...Matt I..." Zacky trailed off, a blush rising to his cheeks as he realized everything that had just happened. He was naked in bed with a naked Matt who'd just done things to his naked self he'd never even dreamed of. But naked Matt seemed to be loving every minute of it and he was now gratefully kissing all over naked Zacky's face.

"How was that?" Matt murmured in Zacky's ear as he settled himself on the bed next to him, pulling his small body close.

"A-amazing to say the least.." Zacky said with a little smile, cuddling up close to Matt like he was a huge teddy bear. Matt nodded, satisfied that he'd, well, satisfied Zacky. They lay still in a comfortable silence for awhile before Zacky realized something beneath his thigh, something rather big. Something very big as a matter of fact.

"Matt?" Zacky asked quietly, looking up at him, seeming to have a very concentrated look. Concentrating on un-hot things like girls and quarters and the pledge of allegiance and how he didn't have the worst fucking case of blue balls ever. He let out a choked noise as he felt a small, soft hand wrap around his aching length, his eyes snapping open to see Zacky looking up at him with an unsure look on his face. He knew why Zacky was doing this and he reached down to gently pull his hand away, with many screaming protests from his lower half.

"It's ok babe, you don't have to do that." Matt gritted out while giving Zacky what he hoped was a reassuring smile instead of a pained one. To his surprise Zacky stubbornly grabbed ahold of him again and looked up at him with a determined look.

"I want to though, I want to try it." Zacky said firmly, unconciously squeezing Matt as he did. Matt's head fell back to the pillow and he just nodded as Zacky squeezed his hardness. He moaned as Zacky started with shy, inexperienced strokes, his small hand having trouble with Matt's considerable size. Zacky soon got the hang of it and had Matt groaning and panting in no time, secretly liking the control he had over him in this state.

"Fuck, Zacky..." Matt growled as Zacky's hand moved faster over his throbbing cock, release close and coiled in the pit of his stomach. He nearly shouted as he felt the cool metal of Zacky's liprings brush against the heated skin, eyes rolling back in his head when a little pink tongue snaked out to swipe over the tip of his cock. He looked down at Zacky through hooded eyes as he took the head of his cock in.

Zacky hid a cringe at the funny taste of the clear fluid that leaked from Matt's slit and moved a little further down on his cock. His tongue swirled against the throbbing flesh as he gently sucked, gagging a little when he took in too much. Matt looked down again and groaned, it was the hottest sight when Zacky looked up at him through his thick lashes with his plump lips wrapped around his member.

The impending release slowly uncoiled in the pit of his stomach, and he gently thrust up into Zacky's mouth as he felt his orgasm nearing. Zacky's hand had been resting on Matt's stomach and he could feel the muscles tighten beneath his hand, signaling his release. Matt reached down to pull Zacky up to him, kissing him hungrily as he came all over his stomach.

They both fell back to the bed, panting heavily. Matt kissed Zacky's forhead lightly, murmuring a thank you against the soft skin. Zacky smiled up at him and lay his head back down on Matt's chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat slow back down. Matt reached over to the nightstand for some tissues and cleaned himself up, throwing the sticky tissues in the trash before pulling the heavy comforter up over the both of them.

They fell asleep the steady thump of each others hearts.