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itisannak · 4 years

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Homesick (Calum Hood Smut)

Summary: Calum is on tour, and (Y/N) is having a hard time away from him. (Smut / Unprotected Sex) Based on Sleep Prompt #2: "I can't sleep, you've been gone for too long." (Request) (Words: 3.7k)

This time was supposed to be easier. This time, Calum promised it would be so much easier. I would be living in our house, which would be full of our happy memories and that would make me feel better about him being away. I would be having Duke, whose company would make the days go by faster. But it was all bullshit.

This time is the absolute hardest of any time before. He is gone, and the house is empty and every corner holds a memory of us being happy, which makes it harder to overlook the fact that if he were here, we would create many more memories. And Duke is in an even worse state than me, whining and looking at the door for his pops to walk in.

It sucks; I know that the moment he is going to be back, all of this will faint from memory and I am only going to savor in the good times. But right now, this sucks. I feel like I am drowning in this house like I am suffocating while he is gone. Not because I can't live without him. I can, I have, I just don't want to. But the thing that bugs me the most is the thought of him being able to live without me, or realizing he can actually live without me. It is selfish, I know. But I don't want him to wake up one morning and realize his life will be fine or even better if I never woke up next to him again.

It drives me insane, to the point I have to drink myself to sleep, to the point of not sleeping anymore because I realized this is how addiction starts. And being addicted to Calum is enough addiction for a lifetime.

I pick my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I find his. My thumb hovers over the icon, my gut telling me that if I call him now, I will regret what I am about to say. Nonetheless, I press on the contact, putting him on loudspeaker and leaving my phone on my lap. He picks up fast, almost as he was waiting for that call. "(Y/N), princess... It is like 3 in LA. What are you doing up?" He asks me, his voice groggy. "You didn't call me." I point out, biting the inside of my cheek. "I was spent from all the traveling and then the show. I am sorry. I put an early alarm though, to call you in the morning and wake you up for work." He says with a familiar smile on his voice. I stay silent, my heartbeat throbbing in my brain. "What is going on, love?" He asks after a minute of dead silence. "I can't sleep. I can't sleep, you've been gone too long. I can't sleep, Calum. I drank myself to sleep too many times for this to be healthy. And I can't breathe, Calum. I can't breathe in this house. I miss you so much and you are gone. You are gone, god fucking damn it. You are gone for too long. And you don't call me anymore. You always have excuses, and you don't call anymore. I miss you, I can't sleep without you. I am a shell of myself nowadays and Duke is looking for you. He is behind the door, whimpering for you. And I don't know what to do. I have no idea what I should do. You are gone and I don't know if you'll be back again. And you lied to me. You lied to me, Calum. You said this was going to be easy and it isn't. And it hurts, it sucks. I don't know what to do. Please, tell me what I should do." I am sobbing by the end of my monologue, my lip quivering and my body trembling. My bones hurt and I am scared of what he is going to suggest. "You should go to sleep. We will talk tomorrow." He simply says; I can't read his tone, I can only tell his voice is significantly lower than before. "I am having a breakdown and you are telling me to go to sleep? You think sleeping is going to fix that hollowness inside me? Screw you, Calum. Fucking screw yourself. I am dying and you are telling me to go to sleep. I told you I can't sleep. You heard that, right?" I ask and hear him draw in a breath. "Go to sleep, baby. You are sleep-deprived and you need to rest. We will talk tomorrow." He says, still holding onto his calmness. "You think I will be different tomorrow? I have to go sleep on a bed that doesn't have your smell anymore, a bed that has been empty. You think I will be able to go to bed, lay there, and fall asleep?" I ask him, almost screaming at him with fury. "Then fucking sleep on the couch or in the guest room. I can't fucking help you more on that. We will talk tomorrow." He growls now, letting out his frustration as well. I chuckle through my tears, wiping away my cheeks. "Yeah, you can't fucking help, Calum." I reply, pressing the end button. I throw my phone across the couch, bringing my face to the cushion and crying on it.

He is going to break up with me. He doesn't want to upset me more now, but he is going to break up with me, I can feel it in my stomach. He is going to lay on his bunk bed now and think how easier it would be for him to just drop me already and live his life without me being a bitch about him being away. Fuck.

The night went by and the morning arrived, leaving me once more unable to rest. I feel like calling in sick, but going to work is the only thing that distracts me from the situation I am living in. So, I pulled up my big girl pants and got to work, hoping that whatever I would have to deal with today would actually allow me to take my mind off of Calum. But I found myself looking at my phone every five minutes, getting frustrated over its silence.

I walk in the house, finding Duke by the door, wagging his tail slowly at me. I reach down, petting him behind his ears before I drag my feet up to the couch, and plop my body on top of it. I feel numb, empty, hollow, and I am used to it by now, but today it is even worse. I am waiting for him to call, but I am too scared at the thought of what he might tell me. He is going to break up with me, I know he is, I am waiting for that, but I just don't want it to actually happen.

Time drips slowly, I can feel every minute passing. I have nothing to do but wait and waiting messes with my head.

I imagine him already moving on, finding someone new, having fun with that person who is not me. My paranoia is only growing bigger by the second, until my phone rings. I grab the phone, staring at Calum's caller ID. My heart stops as I contemplate whether or not I should pick it up. I don't want to lose him. "Hey." I say as I pick it up. "I don't have much time before I go on stage. Check your emails." He orders, making me furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "Are you breaking up with me over email?" I ask, stuttering. "It is a ticket for you to visit me this weekend." He replies, making me sigh a little. "I would never break up with you in any setting other than in person." He continues, making my eyes go wide. "Are you flying me over to break up with me?" I ask, putting on a fight to not stutter. "I have to go." He replies before hanging up. It is enough of an answer for me.

I open my emails, finding the digital print for my tickets. I sniffle, biting the inside of my cheek before I open Apple pay, sending Calum the money he paid for the tickets. If he is breaking up with me, I still get to keep my dignity.

I pulled a Princess Diana for the visit. First, I left the house, booking myself a hotel room to practically force myself to fall asleep. Duke is with Sierra; I told her I am visiting, but not the reason why. Sleeping did wonders for me; I look a little more human and I am thinking a little clearer now. I decided that if he is going to drop me, I am going to show him what he is going to miss from now on. Taking a whole flight in a tight dress and high heels certainly attracted a couple of stares. Yeah, I would stare too at the weird lady on my flight who's dressed to get dicked down. There was a driver waiting for me at the airport, with a cheesy sign that bared my last name in a boring font. I am not even worth him picking me up in person. The driver took me to a hotel, handed me a keycard for the room, and let me get up alone, to what I am sure will be the emptiest, most pathetic room. I wonder why he bothered with booking a room, he could have just done it in the lobby, or even outside the hotel. And I wonder why my return flight is not until Monday morning. Breaking up with me will only take him an hour maximum.

I go up in the room, unlocking the door and letting myself in, ready to play the waiting game until he arrives to give me the boot. "Welcome home, princess." I hear his voice coming from across the room. I raise my gaze to meet his figure, keeping my expression neutral for now. "Home?" I ask, leaving my carry-on on the ground before I walk further. "You were clearly homesick, even though you were staying at our home. So I figured, since you are my home, I must be yours. So, welcome home." He smiles at me. I scan his body; he is either pulling a Lady D on me, or he dressed up in his whitest shirt and best trousers by accident. "Cut the bullshit. We both know why I am here. Go ahead, say it." I provoke him, looking at him in the eye. "You look gorgeous." He states, licking his lips. "Yeah, yeah... Just break up with me already." I say frustrated, making him furrow his eyebrows in confusion. "What?" He asks me, causing me to roll my eyes at him. "Come on, Calum. Be a man already. You told me you would never break up with me in any other setting but face to face. I am here, I am looking at you, and you are looking at me. So, go ahead and let it out." I throw my hands in the air; I am certain my face is bright red by now. "Why would I break up with you? I told you I would never break up with you over the phone. I didn't mean I would fly you here to break up with you. I thought you would break up with me." He points out, making me look at him in confusion now. "Why would I break up with you?" I ask. "Because I am always away. Why would I break up with you?" He asks me again. "Because I am always nagging and whining about you being away." I reply and he chuckles. "Not always. And you are not nagging. You had every right to tell me how you felt. Just because I signed up for that life, doesn't mean you did too." He replies, making me sigh and mentally slap myself in the face. "Well, I kinda did. I chose to be with you, I knew what I was getting myself into. And it really felt insignificant. Still does. I was just... I am sorry." I exasperate making him chuckle and pull me into a hug. "It is fine, baby. You don't need to apologize. You just missed me..." He strokes my cheek, making me look at my feet. "I am so stupid." I groan and he chuckles, tilting my chin up. "Love makes you stupid. I would know, it has made me an absolute buffoon." He strokes his thumb over my bottom lip. "You dressed up for me..." I mumble, placing my hands in the collar of his shirt. "And you dressed up for me..." He replies. "Meh... I dressed up for revenge. I thought you would be breaking up with me, I wanted to show off what you were giving up..." I shrug and he gasps. "Naughty little girl..." He mouths, leaning down to kiss me. I practically melt, and he has to hold onto me to prevent me from falling. I missed him, too much to put into words, but the moans falling from my mouth as he slips his tongue against mine.

His hands go to my lower back, feeling the fabric of my dress before they rest against my ass, first brushing over it and then just fondling, squeezing a bit harshly, enough to make me whimper and jolt. "You look so fucking hot..." I moan, pulling away to catch my breath. I throw my head back, giving him access to my neck as he brings his lips to my jawline. "Oh, yeah? You find me hot? Do I make you wet, princess?" He asks, grazing his teeth over my skin. I take his hand, bringing it under the hem of my dress. He trails his fingers up my thigh, making me erupt in goosebumps under his touch. He moves his hand to touch my core, pressing his fingers against my sex. "You are soaked, baby... Need me that much?" He asks me, making me grip onto him as he rubs my clit. "Now... I need you now... Please." I gasp, eyes closed and lips parted as I throw my head back in pleasure. "Yeah, baby? Well, you are lucky I need you just as bad..." He whispers, removing his hand slowly from between my thighs.

He kisses me as his body guides me to the bed, his hands holding onto me tightly. My back collides with the mattress, and he is still pressed against me, resting between my thighs as he pries my lips apart with his tongue. "You are hard..." I point out, feeling his cock pushing hard against my lower stomach. "I know... It's your outfit... And the fact that you smell so good... And that I have missed you... All of you." He mumbles, working his way down my neck. "All of me?" I ask, surrendering to the haze his breath fanning on my skin causes. "All of you, princess. Want me to show you?" He asks, moving his hands down my body. He strokes them over my hips softly, moving his fingers under the hem of my dress. He raises it up, letting it rest just below my navel. "Please do..." I mumble, making him smile at me. He moves up, bringing his lips to mine, kissing me roughly. "Let me ride you..." I whimper against his lips, my fingers tangling in his hair and pulling at it a little, taking advantage of what a big pain slut he is. "Go ahead, wildflower. I can't say no to you." He states, letting me flip us over, with him on his back and me straddling his hips. I grind my clothed core over the bulge in his pants, wiggling my hips on him. "Lower the strap of your dress, baby... Give me a little show." He suggests, licking his lips. "This one? Or this one? Or maybe both...?" I ask, playing with the straps of my dress. His eyes are glued on me as I unzip the dress and let it slide down my body. "Look at you... Fuck me, princess... You are going to be the death of me." He groans while I raise my dress off my body. "That's the endgame." I smirk at him, working on unbuttoning his shirt. My hands slide down his chest, feeling up his skin, getting enough satisfaction from just touching him. The tip of my nail traces over the tattoos on his chest and collarbone, mouth agape and eyes nearly burning into his skin. He groans, gripping onto my hips harshly, early impatient from my stalling. "Come on, princess. Let me slip inside you." He pleads, making me chill at the sound of his voice. "Yes, daddy." I cheer, leaning closer to him to kiss his neck. I reach down, unzipping his pants and lowering his briefs to free his cock, which now rests on his lower stomach. My brain goes fuzzy as I nearly drool over it. Fuck, I've missed sex with him.

I push my underwear to the side, lining him up to my entrance before I sink my hips down on him. I take in nearly half of his length, already feeling my stomach tighten as I ride him. "You are so fucking wet... Holy fuck..." He mumbles, the grasp on my hips still tight enough to leave a mark there. "Come on, princess. I know you can take more of me in your tight little pussy..." He encourages me, while I buckle my hips back and forth. "You are so big, daddy. You are stretching me..." I whimper, arching my back and pressing my hips down until all of his length is inside me. I shudder, angling my hips to get his tip to hit on my spot. "You fit so well around my cock, fuck..." He hisses, moving his hands until they cup my ass. His cock is throbbing inside me, his veins adding to the sensation building inside me. My hands move to his biceps, nails digging into them as they flex. I practically bounce on him, taking as much of him as I can, while he kneads and slaps my ass. He makes this orgasmic little sounds as we fuck that mess with my head, making me wiggle on him. "Come a little closer, princess." He says through raspy breaths. I lean down, until my chest presses to his, but he lifts it up and brings his lips to my chest. His mouth latches onto my nipple, making me cuss under my breath. "Fuck... Calum... Harder." I beg, grounding my hips on his, causing his cock to press on my cervix and myself to sink into the feeling of his cock stretching my walls and his teeth grazing over my bud. One of his hands travels up my spine, finding its way to pull at my hair. He bucks his hips up, thrusting forcefully in me now, and doing it oh so right. "Calum... I am going to cum..." I cry out, gripping the bedsheet, by each side of his head. I buck my hips, wiggling them back and forth without taking his cock out of me. I need him, right where he is right now. "I want you to cum, princess. Cum around my cock. You've been so good for daddy." He praises me, pulling my head back by my hair. "Daddy..." I whimper, shutting my eyes tightly. "Come on, princess. I need just a little more." He sounds way too close, and his dick is twitching inside me, so I decide to hold on a little longer, cum at the same time as him. He groans as he gets closer and closer, his body glistening with sweat under the light dimming in the room. "Fuck, (Y/N)..." He gasps, gluing his hips on mine as he cums inside me. I let go, grinding on him to accelerate my orgasm as I arch my back and throw my head back, my nails digging in his forearms.

I collapse on the mattress by his side, gasping and shaking as I come down from my orgasm. I am speechless, but the smile on my face seems to be stuck there, not fading away even an inch. "Hi..." He mumbles as he rests his weight on his elbow to look at me. "Hi there." I say softly, bringing my hand to stroke his cheek. "I missed you. So much." He whispers, kissing the inside of my palm. "I missed you. It is super hard living without." I sigh, making him hum in agreement. "I am sorry, baby. I really am. If I could..." He begins but I press my thumb to his lips to stop him. "No... Don't apologize... Just... Promise to call me every night while you are gone... And promise you are going to spend the first weekend you are going to be back with me, and only me." I state and he smiles, nodding his head. "I cross my heart and hope to die." He replies, pressing his lips on my forehead. "Did you really drunk yourself to sleep?" He asks, his voice barely over a whisper. "For a few days, I did. Then I stopped. Addiction is tricky, and being addicted to you is enough for me." I reply, taking his hand in mine. "Oh, love. I am sorry for all that suffering." He sounds honest, which only makes my heart skip a beat over his wholesomeness. "I am so scared you are going to leave me. And I know you've never given me any reason to think of that. But the thought eats me alive." I admit and he sighs softly. He presses his lips on my forehead, stroking my hair softly. "I am never going to leave you. Ever. Take my word for it, wildflower." He looks me in the eye, and I can see his honesty reflecting in them. "Promise?" I ask and he nods. "I promise. I swear on anything sacred." He lays on his back and brings me to his chest. I lay my head there, tangling up to him as I yawn. "Tired, wildflower?' He asks, making me hum in agreement. "I am... I really am." I reply, cuddling up to him. "Let's get some sleep, then. And then get something to eat, call the guys. They've missed you..." He suggests, bringing the covers over my body. "Sounds like a plan..." I blink slowly, kissing his chest sleepily.

My Masterlist

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thedefenderoftheearth · 3 years

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summary: Rose and TenToo start their journey together and it isn't always perfect but they're good together.

rating: T

word count: 2200

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30290310

On Day One, he knows the TARDIS is leaving before Rose does. She’s entirely captivated by this kiss, and he wants to be too (and is…mostly), but it’s his TARDIS, and his mind is big enough to think of both things at once–the love of his life re-entering it and the companion he’s not sure he can live without fading from it. He hates the thought but knows it’s true. He’s lived without Rose, knows he can do it…but he’s not sure if he can live without his ship.

When Rose breaks the kiss with a gasp and bolts toward his disappearing girl, he’s certain that he can’t. He takes the few strides to Rose, interlaces his fingers with hers because it’s the only thing he’s sure it’s okay to do. When they turn to look at each other, he wonders what he’ll be sure of tomorrow.

On Day Two, he wakes to a soft whirring sound--an electric toothbrush, he realizes. Rose is awake and coming out of the en suite. He doesn't know what to do with himself, so he flings the covers aside and hops out of the bed to meet her.

"Oh," she says, and she won't meet his eyes. "Um. Hi. You're awake."

"Yes," he confirms. "And you have a bit of toothpaste just...there." Without thinking and before she can stop him, he licks the pad of his thumb and swipes the corner of her mouth.

"Um. Thanks," she says, and she still won't look at him properly. "Um...I thought...I thought I'd pick up your suit from dry-cleaning. And then we could go shopping, get you some things. I won't be long." She hurries from the room with her head down, not even pausing to wait for an answer.

He's puzzled, but when he's certain she's gone, he sucks his thumb. He can't taste every component of the toothpaste, can't determine the exact structure of the methylcellulose like he used to. What he can taste is Rose, and that, he thinks, could merit a full day's worth of analysis.

It isn't until he goes into the bathroom to relieve himself that he realizes why Rose did her best not to see him.

He wonders if this is a problem human males have every morning.

If so, he wonders how he could possibly bear this every morning--this heat that's spreading across his face, down his neck, and to his shoulders that makes him feel like he could disintegrate on the spot and like he wouldn't mind if he did, because at least he wouldn't have to face Rose again.

On Day Three, she catches him in the kitchen with two fingers in a jar of raspberry jam. He freezes, smiles sheepishly, grows nervous when she doesn't say anything.

"You know," she finally says, taking the jar from him and replacing his fingers with her own, "this is an awful habit to get yourself into." Her tongue darts out to clean the messy glob on her fingers.

"Dreadful," he agrees, when he can finally speak. "Terribly rude." He takes the jar back to help himself to more jam.

They pass the jar between them a few times before she stops and places it on the counter.

Sticky fingers weave through his perfectly tousled hair as she pulls his mouth to her and he wants to whine about it, but his brain shorts out as she swipes her tongue along his bottom lip and oh--all right then.

On Day Nine, they're okay. They've fallen into a safe routine: she cooks breakfast and he cleans the dishes; they share the bathroom (and it's not long before they decide it isn't big enough for the two of them); they reach together for two Torchwood IDs hanging near the door; she drives and he changes the radio fifteen times before they arrive.

Neither of them takes any risks with the other, but it's good. They're good together.

On Day Twenty-Eight, he cooks breakfast and doesn't burn the toast. It earns him a proud hug from Rose. He thinks back to a day when a shop girl from the Powell Estate pronounces a word correctly and elicits the same response from him. He wonders what happened to that girl and marvels at the woman before him who has all of herself pressed up against all of him.

On Day Forty-One, he goes on his third date with Rose. He's not sure why she keeps referring to it that way but she does and has more than once--to her mum on the phone and even to Jake at Torchwood.

He doesn't understand why she emerges from the en suite in a dress he's never seen before and strappy heels that couldn't possibly be designed for comfort (and definitely not for running) or why she smells flowery and certainly good but not quite like herself.

When they return to the flat, he doesn't understand her frustrated sounds when he kisses her, when he tries to slow their snogging back down to just that, just like always, just like normal. She finally relents and succumbs to his pace. When they're both breathless, she snuggles close to him...until she can't anymore.

He's utterly baffled when he's suddenly asked to sleep on the couch, but for the first time since he came to live with Rose--the first time in his existence--he does.

On Day Fifty, he understands why they call it "getting lucky." His brain is shrouded in a blissful haze, yet singularly focused on one thing: he has just had sex with Rose Tyler. He's done the deed, gotten busy, mattress mamboed, knocked boots--he doesn't have boots; maybe he should get some--and he feels a little bit like whooping...but his bones are liquid and he's melting into the soft down of the bed. His hair is in a state of permanent shock, his eyelids droop half-mast, and his mouth is set in a goofy sort of half-grin that doesn't seem to want to fade, but he doesn't mind. He fights to keep his eyes open just to keep looking down at an equally happy Rose falling asleep with one arm across his chest, her hand above his single heart, and her legs tangled with his.

On Day Seventy-Seven, they spend the entire day in bed. He moans loudly.

She tells him through a stuffed-up nose to "shu' ub."

"'Shut up'? Really? These could be my last words, Rose Tyler. I'm going to die!"

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"It's just a cold."

"Is not. It's swine flu, bird flu, SARS--No." He gasps. "The Plague!"

"It's not the Plague. They didn't even have that here."He whines and moans and groans and "But Roooooose"s, and even though she's miserable herself, she brings him soup, blows on it when it's too hot, and patiently cleans him up when he sneezes in her face and half the bowl goes down his front.

On Day One-Hundred Twelve, they're not okay. Neither of them knows how they got to this point, but hurtful things are being flung carelessly to the air between them. Things like maybe if he came back, she'd leave with him--back to her own universe, back home. Things like maybe if the wanker did come back, he'd just steal his TARDIS, and he could be the one stuck on this stupid planet in this stupid world.

He pulls at the doorknob, tries to flee with some dignity, but the jamb sticks. He twists and pulls and jiggles the lock and finally it breaks free. Tears prickle in his eyes, and he wants to know why this stupid body has his tear ducts hardwired to his frustration. It's a dumb design; he doesn't feel like crying, he feels like running.

He winces when he hears the door slam behind him--he didn't really mean that--but it's done. He can't take it back. He runs.

On Day One-Hundred Fourteen, he runs home. She's ready for him when he walks in, and he isn't expecting that. He's expecting to at least be able to change out of the clothes he left in, the ones that are soaked through and clinging to his cold skin. Maybe even a shave and a steaming cup of tea. He doesn't get those things; they're going to have it out right now.

She unfurls herself from the blankets, rises from the couch with an un-drunk, already-cold mug of tea in her hand and strides toward him. They're toe-to-toe before he can find his voice.

"Still mad?"

She leans in close and he's nervous. "Yes," she says against his temple. "Definitely," against his jaw.

He shivers, swallows thickly, and thinks--knows--they should solve this with words, but when she pulls back to look at him like that, he thinks the words can wait.

They're both sorry, and that's enough for now.

They're a mess of tangled limbs and warm breath as they fall to the bed. His wet clothes are left on the carpet and oh, she's not going to like that later. He wonders how he has room for that thought when he's got a half-naked Rose Tyler in his arms, then he knows: he never wants to make her mad at him again.

Right now, he decides, he's going to make her very, very happy with him.

On Day One-Hundred Fifty, he thinks Rose might be pregnant. He wants to believe it's his superior Time Lord brain counting thirty days to the millisecond. He knows it's his human brain and his human something else.

He's not sure if she thinks that--that there might soon be three heartbeats between them again--but he thinks he's scared, delighted, anxious, proud, reckless, loving, loved, amazed.

He wonders if it's a human trick, to feel all these things at once and not explode into light. If so, it's better than any trick any Time Lord ever had.

On Day One-Hundred Fifty-Two, he finds out he's wrong when she throws a pillow at him and demands toffee and a backrub.

He's not sure why he isn't relieved, or of the reasons he should be.

On Day Two-Hundred Two, he drops a ring--the ring--down the garbage disposal and panics. He stares down the dark void of the drain in horror.

Neither of them are ready for the question to be asked, but that ring....It's The Ring, and he's not going to find a replacement. When his own hand fails him (as does chewing-gum-on-a-wire and the vacuum hose with a bit of nylon over the top) he admits defeat and calls a plumber.

When Rose asks what happened, he has to tell her he finally finished that sonic prototype, and it was rather less successful than one might have hoped--wellll, by that he means it was a complete failure.

She rolls her eyes and asks him what's for supper.

On Day Three-Hundred Ninety-Eight, he thinks they are ready, but she comes home with two zeppelin tickets.

"Fancy a trip?"

"Yes!" he exclaims too loudly. He's done so well so far. He's only had a few freak-outs--no, they weren't freak-outs. Slips, lapses, tiny episodes, he thinks. But oh, would he love to travel. He doesn't have the universe at his fingertips anymore, but this world is still different, still has a lot to offer. Maybe the Sphinx still has a nose because he wasn't there to meddle, and maybe the sand feels different under his feet there because the silicon dioxide content isn't the same in this universe. Maybe the Great Wall of China wasn't built, but there's one in Mexico, and maybe the view is still spectacular. Maybe the best chips on the planet aren't at their old haunt at the hole-in-the-wall on Baker and Twenty-Fourth. Maybe they're across the globe in Sydney, and maybe they can find them.

"Yes," he says quieter, and then, "Where?"

"Anywhere."

"Okay."

And they go.

On Day Four-Hundred Twelve, they're running for their lives from a hunter-gatherer group in the Amazon that he's managed to insult.

They run, and the humidity gives them an endless supply of sweat. Huge droplets pool from every pore making their hair stick close to their scalps and their clothes stick to their skin as though they'd just emerged from a swimming hole fully-clothed and a muddy one at that, with the way the forest wants to cling to them and never let go.

He knows it's just something in the way this adrenal-cortical system works that makes him think that maybe they're really going to die this time, something about these rubbish--wonderful--human hormones, but he says the words anyway.

"Will you marry me?"

"What?" she says between tight gasps for air.

"Marry me.”

"Her answer doesn't come immediately. He doesn't know if she's thinking or trying to find the air for the words or both, but he's dying every second.

"Okay," she says, then looks over her shoulder to the group gaining on them. "Can it wait?"

"Yes!" he exclaims. He hollers an indecipherable word, grabs her hand, and they run faster.

#ficandchips #yeah this is just me rebuilding my blog shhhh #i like never reread things i've written past a certain point #for fear of the cringe #but there is not much cringe here #and some phrases i still like #so #boop doop

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unabashegirl · 4 years

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#2 “Wear something noticeable”

They met in a small Indian restaurant close to his home in England. He had ordered some take-out that night and so had Y/N. It was a cold winter night. She cursed at the wind as she kept a quick pace towards the well lit small restaurant up the hill. A few hours ago, she found herself already tucked in bed when the sudden craving for some samosas with a mango milkshake surfaced. Even though she knew that she would regret it in the morning when her tummy ached, she still got up and called the restaurant.

The door chimed as she quickly walked in. She just wanted to be get inside and away from the below zero temperatures. She was still wearing her pajamas. She had just thrown on some grey sweatpants, a hoodie and a coat along with a beanie.

The nice lady at the front desk smiled at the young woman.

“Y/L/N” She took her credit card out of her back pocket and handed it to her with shivering hands.

“Thank you. Have a nice evening” The lady smiled at her. Y/N quickly signed the voucher and handed it back to her. She returned her credit card and Y/N noticed there was another person behind her. She instantly felt pressured and rushed so she took her card and receipt with one hand and the first brown bag that she saw.

Right before she could leave the establishment her phone began vibrating in her pocket only causing her to freak out. It was her father asking her if she was planning on visiting him anytime soon. She had been avoiding that call, but because of the sudden chaos, she hadn’t checked the phone ID. She hummed back to everything and replied with a quick yes and I’ll let you know as soon as I know. Her father knew that she didn’t mean it, she wasn’t going to call back. He had hurt her and most importantly he had hurt her mother which was unforgivable for her. Y/N worshipped the ground that her mother walked on.

“M’ sorry, I think you’ve got my order” He startled her as soon as she put her phone down. Her cheeks were slightly tinted red from the cold and so was the tip of her nose. He also managed to notice that her beanie was inside out and that she was the type of girl that pulled her sleeves over her hands for warmth. He instantly found her adorable.

“Oh really? I am so sorry” she didn’t know what was going on with her, maybe it was her desire to jump in her warm bed and devour her food in the comfort of her small cozy apartment. She usually doubled checked that her food order was right, but again she was too distracted.

“It’s okay” he chuckled as he handed her her brown paper bag. “I see you like the mango milkshake too” Y/N laughed, noticing the effortless beauty of the man before her. She was too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes.

“It’s pretty good” Y/N then proceeded to apologize again, but Harry was too shocked that she still hadn’t recognized him to mind her apology.They spoke by the door for a few more minutes until Harry finally decided that he had to take a chance. He asked for her phone number and Instagram just in case. He obviously didn’t give her his.

A few days later, they met up at the same spot and spoke for hours. Then they met a few more times, but in a different restaurant because Y/N was starting to grow tired of eating samosas.

“Are you driving?” Harry asked her as he helped her put on her coat and scarf as they stood by the door of the small, intimate restaurant. They had a lovely evening. Harry had worn one of his new Gucci shirts for her. Of course, she didn’t notice the expensive fabric or the delicate and the preciseness of every single detail just as much as he didn’t notice that her dress had previously been worn multiple times. He loved it. He had always wanted a normal relationship. He wanted to be with someone that made me feel just like Harry.

“I am walking home” Harry instantly frowned remembering what had happened to him a few days ago. He hadn’t told her because he didn’t feel the necessity to do so. He didn’t want her to feel scared in her own town.

“I am walking you home” He bluntly said as he threw on a beanie over his head. She knew who he was, but to her, he was only the guy that she had confused her take- out with.

“You don’t have to, Harry” She smiled at his sweet gesture, but she knew he had to get up early for work.

“I won’t take a no for an answer” He reached over and intertwined their hands for the very first time after checking that her coat was properly closed before facing the cold. “Come on” he smiled at her before pressing a kiss on her warm cheek.

They quietly walked side by side down the small, closed cafes. The only noise that could be heard was the sound of their heels. He was wearing heeled ankle boots and she was wearing heels.

“Aren’t those hurting yeh?” He asked as he noticed her high heels. His grip on her hand tightens, realizing how easily she could slip on the ice.

“I have to keep up with your height” Harry chuckled and threw his arm over her shoulders instantly warming her up.

“I quite enjoy a short woman” He breathed then placed a kiss on her forehead. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I plan to stay in. It’s supposed to be really cold” She leaned closer to him and wrapped an arm around him too.

“I- I have work thing tomorrow” He really didn’t want to reveal it to her. He was scared that things would change and she would suddenly change. He was scared to wake up from the wonderful dream that he was currently living.

“You mean a concert?” She asked making him stop his pace, right before crossing the road.

“You know?” He asked dumbfounded, but still wearing a small smile.

“Yes. I’ve always known” Harry smiled and shook his head. He licked his lips and grabbed her hand. He pulled it up to his lips and pressed a kiss on it.

“Would you come? Tomorrow?” Y/N nodded and they continued their walk down the streets up to her house. He didn’t want to rush things. He didn’t want to say anything that could ruin every passing second. He wanted it to last. He wanted the warm feeling that spread through him every time he was around her to last.

“Are you ever going to kiss me?” She whispered as he held her by the entrance of her apartment complex. He threw his head back and let out a rough chuckle. He looked back down at her.

“Only if you ask me nicely” Now it was her turn to laugh. He could see her icy breath floating away on the wintery breeze. Her hands were still warm against his.

“Would you please kiss me?” Harry nodded and let her hands go before connecting their cold lips instantly igniting warmth all over their bodies. Keeping each other warm from the cold winter. She reached up and cupped his face with her hands, intensifying the kiss. It was soft, delicate and more importantly, it wasn’t rushed in any way possible. Harry kissed her like he wanted to erase the memory from any previous exes that had kissed her. It felt silly to say but it was the best kiss that she had ever shared with someone, and if it wasn’t because they had to breathe, they would’ve continued kissing.

“I’ll send someone to pick you up tomorrow,” he said as their noses were still pressed together and Y/N could still smell his cologne and feel his hot breath fanning her face. “Wear something noticeable. Something eye-catching, so I can easily see you” The lights of the show could be blinding and he wanted to see her. He wanted to sing to her and show her another side of him. He wanted to show her, what he enjoyed the most doing.

Part II

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles #harry x you #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n

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snusbandxknifewife · 3 years

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Not me seeing this post:

And starting an entirely new Jurdan AU based on it lmao. Rated E for “Excessive Mentioning Of Sex Toys”

~~~

Dun dun.

Jude looks up as the front door of her father’s business, Lawn & Order, opens. The bell, added by her eldest sister in an effort to annoy their father, has been going off all day. Work is piling up on the receptionist desk and she curses to herself, knowing that more paperwork means less time outside.

A USPS delivery man walks in, hauling a hand truck nearly overflowing with boxes. Sweat drips down his face, pooling at his collar as Jude decides that maybe a little time in the AC isn’t too bad on a day as hot as this one.

“Sign here,” the obviously exhausted man says as he turns a clipboard towards her.

Funny, Madoc didn’t tell her they’d be getting a delivery today.

Still, she shrugs and absentmindedly signs the clipboard as the man unloads the hand truck with a dramatic groan. She should get up and help him, and, on any other day, she probably would. But today is for licking wounds and pouting.

The clock ticks quietly as Jude considers how she has to file papers and phone customers and clean the shop, just to go home for family dinner where her sister will undoubtedly be moaning about her cheating ass of an ex.

Not sure why she’s surprised, considering he cheated on JUDE with HER.

Taryn and Locke had been a thing officially for only three months, but they’d been sleeping together behind Jude’s back for much longer than that. The very idea makes her skin crawl and she would much rather spend her valuable time cutting someone’s lawn with nail clippers instead of playing nice with her poor heartbroken witch of a twin.

“Have a good one!” Jude clocks back into reality as the USPS man walks out the door, taking his hand truck with him and leaving her to the quiet of the AC unit and the court room tv playing in the corner.

Sighing, she gets up from her leather stool and walks around the counter to pick up the boxes. They look innocent enough, simple white USPS priority mail boxes that she expects to contain samples of seeds or maybe replacement weed whacking string trimmers. She could use some of those, the weed whacker she takes in her truck hasn’t been working as well as usual and Mrs. Mitsgunmins is kind of an asshole about precision.

She lets out a groan as she picks up the top two. The boxes are a lot heavier than she thought they’d be. Puzzled, she sets the two boxes on the counter, leaving behind the other two as she goes on a hunt for some scissors. Making it almost to her father’s office, she cusses audibly as she remembers the hunting knife she keeps in her boot.

It’s been a long fucking day.

Jude hums along to a commercial as she walks back to the counter, pulling out her knife along the way and slicing the tape of the top box. With a whistle, she opens the box and frowns at finding a bunch of little cardboard boxes stuffed inside. What the hell did Madoc order?

Her whistling stops in horror as she picks up one of the packages and spins it around, only to find bold neon print plastered along the front: XXX RECHARGEABLE NIPPLE CLAMPS

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Jude screeches at the top of her lungs as she drops the box and jumps back. Why the hell does her father need some hundred-or-so sets of rechargeable nipple clamps? Why do nipple clamps even need to be charged in the first place?

Taking a moment to steel herself, Jude moves towards the second box—staying as far away from the nipple clamps as possible—and reads the label for an explanation.

Ohhhh, these are for next door. The delivery man must’ve mixed up the addresses.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she pushes the nipple clamps back into their box and closes the lid, checking the other labels and seeing that all four boxes are meant for next door and thanking her lucky stars that Madoc didn’t suddenly decide to get his kink on.

Looking out across the driveway to the innocuous white building beside Lawn & Order, she rolls her eyes. The Sinful Serpent—complete with its shimmering golden apple sign—has been the bane of her father’s existence since it opened a year ago. Every day she has to hear about how he hates sharing space with some gross sex shop. While adult stores aren’t really Jude’s thing, she hasn’t cared too much because she hasn’t had to interact with the store or owner.

Until, she supposes, today.

She stacks the boxes back up and picks them all up with a grunt, thankful for the workout routine that her work provides as she curses the delivery man for taking his hand truck with him.

Only one car is in the parking lot of the sex shop and she celebrates the fact that nobody will see her going into the store. The last thing she needs is people recognizing her workplace on her shirt and bothering her or her dad. It’s already bad enough listening to old men ogle her when she goes to do landscaping work.

The front door is hooked up to an electronic bell that sounds like the twinkle of magic. As she pushes her way into the Sinful Serpent, she lets out a sound of surprise. Whatever she expected a sex shop to look like, this certainly isn’t it.

The entire store is decorated to look like a forest at twilight, with displays cut into bookshelves that look like giant trees and murals depicting faeries dancing through delicate nature landscapes wrapping around the walls. The lighting is low, except for where spotlights illuminate the wares. Over along one wall, by where the lingerie and exotic dancing costumes are, is a stage with a pole, the whole area bathed in blue light and covered in decor like coral. Between the entrance and exit door, the area for the registers resembles a castle.

“Give me a moment,” a voice calls out from within the castle. “I’ve got to check your ID.”

Jude panics, the very suggestion that she might be a customer in a store like this sending her brain into red alert. “I’m not here to shop!”

“The hell you here for then? Last I checked we didn’t have a gloryhole.”

She all but screams, short circuiting at being faced with a worse option than shopping at a store like this. As she tries to think of what to say, a young man pops up from behind the counter and surveys her, his kohl-lined eyes narrowed as he tries to figure out what her deal is.

He’s dressed in all black, his button up shirt undone halfway down his chest, exposing edges of tattoos that she doesn’t study enough to identify. His bottom lip and septum are pierced, as are his ears—which appear to have been elfed, because they end in sharp points. When he crosses his arms in front of his chest, his fingers are covered in glittering rings.

And he’s grinning at her.

“I uh, um,” she shakes her head, and then remembers the heavy boxes she’s hauled all the way over. “I work next door and, uh, the mailman,” she trails off again, her cheeks flaming as she lowers her voice and mutters, “I think he mixed up our addresses.”

His smile widens and his eyes look dangerous as he tilts his head. “And why would you think that?”

She glares at him and he chuckles lowly.

“We didn’t order these.”

“Can you be sure?” He asks, raising one painted nail to tap thoughtfully against his chin. “A landscaping company and adult entertainment store must have some overlap. Ropes and chains come to mind.”

“We don’t need rechargeable nipple clamps!”

“Everybody needs rechargeable nipple clamps,” he counters, his smirk replaced by reverent intensity.

She lets out a frustrated noise and slams the boxes on the counter, her back cracking in protest. “I don’t!”

“Woah! Stow the seriosity, Sunshine,” he lifts his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just playing with you.”

Grinding her teeth and digging her nails into her palms, she does her very best to keep from choking him out as he leans across the counter, his falling shirt collar exposing a necklace with a snake pendant hanging at his sternum.

She goes to spin on her heel and leave, but stops when a door—hidden behind a painting of a faun and nymph doing unspeakable things—opens, revealing a pretty young woman with blue hair pulled up into a messy bun.

“Cardan I can’t find the damn nipple clamps. I thought they were supposed to be delivered today?”

“Don’t worry, Nic,” the young man calls back with a smile. “Sunshine here brought them over.”

Jude, bristling at the title, misses how the woman momentarily blanches when she lays eyes on her. Quickly recovering and putting on a stony face, she walks over to the castle counter and inspects the opened box.

“You look familiar,” she observes and Jude zeroes in on her carefully cool tone. “Don’t you work at that coffee shop downtown? Bean There, Done That?”

“You’re thinking of my twin, Taryn.” Jude bites her tongue, doing her beat to avoid sounding annoyed at being confused with that backstabbing little—

“Sunshine here is our neighbor, Nicasia,” Cardan cheerfully announces. “She got our order and was kind enough to haul it over.”

“My name is Jude,” she grumbles.

He ignores her, leaning in conspiratorially and stage whispering in Nicasia’s ear. “She has insisted that she doesn’t need rechargeable nipple clamps, so surely they must belong to us.”

“Everyone needs rechargeable nipple clamps,” Nicasia whispers back.

“That’s what I said!”

Jude, rooted in place from the pure horror of listening to this conversation, watches as Cardan picks up a pair of scissors and opens a second box; pulling out a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs and grinning when he notices her watching him. Nicasia raises a perfectly groomed brow at the situation before grabbing the box of nipple clamps and heading to restock the shelves.

Once again, he leans forward, fingers spinning the handcuffs around as he smirks at her. “Now that the packages are handled, what can I do you for?”

Jude frowns, sure that he misspoke. It’s then that her phone goes off and she celebrates any excuse to get the fuck out.

Emergency situation at Dr. Wullworth’s. Need you to take over cutting at the Collethes. -Madoc

“I’m good, I’ve got a lawn to trim,” she says, turning off her phone and tucking it back into her pocket.

“Awe, Sunshine, you ain’t gotta clean up for me.”

She tilts her head in confusion before shrugging and turning to leave.

“Gotta go out the other door, Sunshine,” he sighs, almost like he’s disappointed. Weird.

Jude still tries the door, but it won’t open from this side, so she grabs ahold of her pride and walks around the castle counter, moving as quickly as she can and keeping her head down to avoid getting any further education.

“Bye,” she waves her hand awkwardly as she hits the exit door.

“Bye, Sunshine.”

~~~~~

Mostly setup for the AU. Yes all the last names are keysmashes. Yes I did go on early 2 bed’s website and choose random buttons until I found a sex toy that seemed a little odd. (The nipple clamps are rechargeable because they vibrate.) Big thanks to the discord server for helping me with ideas!

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks @queen-of-glass @b00kworm @doingmyrainbow @andromeddea @jurdanhell @thesirenwashere @illyrianwitchling @courtofjurdan @clockworkgraystairs @st00pid231 @booksandlewks @fateandluminary

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

#jurdan #Jude Duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #tfota fanfic #sex shop/landscaping au #tyrannosaurus lex writes #literally just crack

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issabangtanfic · 4 years

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[Jungkook] The Windmill House (Chapter 6)

Masterlist

Synopsis: When for once rich doesn’t rhyme with Christian Grey.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

A/N: Feel free to submit a cover! Tell me what you think in my inbox! Enjoy!

I jolt awake after a loud thud, yanking my face off of my pillow. I look around, my vision blurry and dark at first. My door has been slammed open, a familiar ball of energy beaming at me.

“Tadayimaaaaaaa!” She sings. She walks in, but what I her stomping, the sound so loud in my head it feels like she’s wearing boots made of concrete. Groaning, I let my head plop down before she drops her full weight on me.

“Hi, babes!” She squeals, wrapping herself around me, crushing me under her body. Oh god, my head.

“Sidney, please.” I groan, blocking my ears. I hear Juno’s paws scraping the floor and soon enough she’s barging in, barking at me and jumping onto my bed.

“What do you mean 'Sidney, please'? We’re back!” My roommate says, slipping off of me only to start shaking me generically. I’m going to throw up. Juno pokes me with her nose, trying to find a way to lick my face hello.

“My head.” I mutter, flipping onto my back painfully. Juno barks again, and her wet tongue s all over my eyes.

“Juno, stop.” I mutter, grabbing her head and lifting my chin, trying to keep my face out of her reach. Our Labrador is way too excited to see me.

“Juno, lay down.” I hear Sidney order, and the frantic licking a fidgeting stops. At least she’s well-trained. When I open my eyes, Juno is lying next to me, tail wagging happily, tongue hanging out. Such a good girl. I give her a head scratch.

“I thought you’d be happier than that.” Sidney says, pouting at me. My babe is all tanned.

“I’m kind of hungover, and I had a rough week.” I reply, my voice straining. I open my arms for her.

“Gimme a hug.” I invite. She lays down next to me, hugging me and resting her head on my chest.

“I just can’t deal with the screaming.” I murmur. Juno barks and licks a long stripe across my face. Ew.

“Juno!” I scold. She resumes panting, and Sid giggles.

“She can’t help herself.” She says.

“How was France?” I ask her.

“Merveileux!” She exclaims. “Especially the men.”

“Did you practice your French kissing?” I joke.

“Mais oui oui oui!” She sings. I gasp.

“Did you? You bitch!” I utter. She told me she hadn’t done anything like that! And I believed her! She props herself up on one arm, looking down at me with a face-splitting smile.

“I know, get your arse out of bed I’ve got to tell you all about it.” She encourages. I don’t like that idea.

“10 more minutes.” I beg, hugging my other pillow. Sidney sighs and slips out of my bed.

“You have to tell me why you’re so tired.” She mutters. I close my eyes.

“Mmmmh.”

“Alright, I’ll come back in an hour. Should I make some tea?” She says once she’s at my door.

“That would be lovely, thanks.” I reply. I love that girl.

“Juno, come on!” I hear her call, and feel Juno jump out of my bed. Sidney closes the door of my bedroom and lets me sleep some more.

By 10 am I am still tired but figure out I really have to get out of bed at least. I drag myself out of my comfy covers and go brush my teeth and freshen up. Once I’m fully awake, I take some time to quickly call my mom. I haven’t talked to her on the phone for a while, and I’m supposed to call her every night but haven’t been able to with the insane week I just had. After that, I right an e-mail to Fred, detailing my encounters with Mr. Jeon and asking to pull out of the projects.

I meet Juno in the living room, and she jumps me again, knowing very well this morning’s reunion wasn’t a real one. It’s not a real one until I’ve given my baby girl tons of kisses.

“Hi, Juno!” I squeal, giving her good scratchies behind her ears. I kiss her forehead and she tries to lick my face.

“Hi baby girl. Hi.” I coo, letting her put her paws on my shoulders and hugging her tightly. She wags her tail happily.

“I missed you too.” I tell her. Oh, my big baby. She’s always so sweet and loving.

“There’s your tea.” Sidney says, coming out of the kitchen with a cup I her hands. Dog cuddles and tea? See, Sidney’s return is definitely making things better. I need her so much.

“Thank you so much.” I gush, taking the cup from her hands. I follow her to the living room and we both sit down on the couch.

“Juno.” I call, patting the spot behind me. She jumps up on the couch and lays next to me.

“So, how was France? You met someone?” I ask, and She starts telling me all about her two-week long adventure in France.

“So, yeah. That’s the tea on France.” She says in conclusion. Wow, I wish I was as daring and spontaneous as her. She really did some crazy stuff back there, and she was by herself. I’m always scared she’ll end up in dangerous situations, but she always comes back from her adventures with a big smile and tons of stories.

“Now I need to hear about your new guy.” She purses her lips as a sign of anticipation. I frown.

“My new guy?”

“The one who sent you all these flowers.” She says, throwing a glance at the two flower bouquets on the kitchen counter. Have I not thrown these away?

“Oh, no.” I roll my eyes.

“Who is he?” She asks.

“A client.” I sigh. “Before you ask, yes he is cute. Hot even. Smokin’ hot.” I add quickly, watching her eyes light up like Christmas.

“He’s most definitely a 10. But he’s a boor.” I inform her. Her shoulders sag and she pouts.

“Is he?”

“The flowers that you see are for the times he had to apologies to me.” I explain, and she frowns at me.

“What did he do?”

“He made advances to me.”

Her eyebrows meet her hairline. She glances at the flowers again.

“And you said no?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?” She utters, looking horrified.

“Because he knows he’s hot. He’s arrogant, full of himself, and decided we had to have sex because he could tell I find him hot.” I explain to him.

“Ooooooh.” She says in realization, almost going cross-eyed. “I see.”

“At first I didn’t do anything about it because I had to have that contract if I wanted to keep my job. But after yesterday…” I add, peaking her interest. She goes serious.

“What happened?” She asks me. I tell her everything about my encounters with this man, from him making me cry on our first meeting, to him forcefully driving me home, and to his brother assaulting me sexually. By the time I’m done she’s on her knees, one hand on her heart, her jaw almost touching couch.

“Jesus Christ, Maya. That is so messed up.” She breathes, her facial expression one of pure shock.

“I know.” I say, leaning onto her, circling my arms around her waist and resting my head on her thighs. She starts stroking my hair.

“I needed those contracts but I’m sure Fred will back me up if I decide to drop him.” I tell her, twisting so I’m looking up at her face.

“Well,” She punches the palm of her own hand. “You tell me if we need to beat up anybody. I still have that cricket bat.” She declares. I chuckle.

“Nah. He’s already old news.” I reassure her, leaning onto her and laying my head on her lap.

“Should we go for drinks tonight? It’s Ben’s birthday, remember?” She proposes. Ben is her younger brother, also a childhood friend. He’s turning 23.

“Yes, I was going to propose Zaap.” I retort.

“Olala, how fancy of you.” She hits me with her French accent again. I chuckle.

“Well, it’s a special occasion.” I shrug.

“Alright.” She says, slipping from under me and rising from the couch, letting my head hit the couch. This is just as comfy.

"I’m taking him for lunch, you wanna come with?” She invites. I snuggle Juno. She’s such a good pillow.

“I won’t be operational before 3.” I mumble, already falling back asleep.

“Okay, fine. You walk Juno, then.” I hear her call from the stairs. I really don’t feel like it, but I don’t want to lay around all day. Another quick nap and Juno will motivate me to get going.

I jolt awake from a dream of a nightmare after what feels like hours. After taking time to wake up and prepare myself a light sack, I throw on some gym clothes and decide to go on a run. That’ll not only make up for my lack of movement throughout the day, but it’ll be a great opportunity to clear my mind. Next Monday will be a fresh start. New clients, new projects, same old Maya.

I receive a call on my way out, and realize it’s Fred when I see the caller’s ID. A sudden fear grips my heart. I have been confident Fred is going to be on my side, but in a small, unused part of my brain a voice echoes, asking ‘but what if he’s not?’. I muster up the courage and take his call.

“I thought you said no work on weekends.” I joke as a greeting.

“I lie. I’m always checking my mails; I just don’t reply.” he retorts dryly. Is he mad? “Did Mr. Jeon seriously do all that?”

“Yes, he did. I can’t work with him anymore.” I reply, trying to sound as composed as I can.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” He says, almost reproachfully.

“Well, we need this contract.” I murmur.

“No, we don’t. And even if we did, you have the right to stop anytime if you fear for your safety.” He retorts. Oh, I love my boss. He makes our company the ultimate safe place.

“It’s in the contracts we make them sign, flower.” He reminds me. Contract? I didn’t make Mr. Jeon sign anything. I didn’t even charge him for the consultations! Fred is going to kill me.

“I know.” I mutter.

“I know I can be harsh sometimes, but I’ll always protect you guys.” He says more softly.

“I know, Fred.”

“I don’t want to scold you. I just feel bad you had to go through this. I’ll talk to that sleazy Mr. Jeon. Consider yourself free of any obligation.” He promises, lifting this heavy weight off of my shoulders.

“Thank you so much, Freddy.” I beam at my phone.

“Don’t call me that.” He snaps. “Try to rest now, Maya. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Cheers!” I exclaim, and Sidney, Ben and I raise our glasses and cling them together. Before going to Zaap, Ben came over for dinner, so we’ve been drinking since then. Sidney and Ben are starting to have the Asian glow, so I decide to start taking pictures before they pass the point of no return.

The Zaap is packed tonight, even for a Saturday night. Thank god, we booked our own table.

“Happy birthday Ben!” Sidney yells in her brother’s ear.

“Happy birthday, baby boy!” I add, wrapping my arms around his neck. Sidney and I sandwich him between us, each of us giving him a loud smooch on one kiss.

“Guys, for god’s sake.” He moans, but he’s smiling. “Enough.”

You would think it’s weird for a 23 year-old to spend his birthday with his sister and her best friend, but Ben moved to London for class three weeks ago, so he doesn’t really have any friends in the city. I’ve known him for two decades now, so this basically a family party.

We chat all night long, unable to hit the dancefloor given how packed it is. Then we get to the gifts, and has his big sisters, you best believe we spoiled our boy. He sees his new phone and his two new watches, and it’s his turn to give us loud smooches.

After several Cosmos, I head to the bathroom for a quick emptying. After pushing my way through the compact crowd, I finally reach the loo, guarded by a security guy.

As I walk in, I nearly bump into the person stumbling out of the Men’s bathroom.

“Oops.” I say in surprise, looking up at him. Mr. Jeon lays his cloudy eyes on me.

#jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #BTS jungkook #bts jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts smut #park jimin #bts jimin #kim namjoon #bts namjoon #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

Text

Kingdom Come

Warnings: Knights, Inappropriate behaviour

AO3

Chapter 1

The kingdom of Morningstar was a proud one. Its territory spanned from the coast, all the way to the mountains. The soil was rich and fertile and its people prosperous. The kingdoms military was unrivalled, keeping the kingdom secure and safe from any threats. It was also unique; the Morningstar military allowed women to become knights. It was the highest a woman could go socially without being married, and it was the option in life that you chose too. Your family wasn’t particularly rich and marrying up would be impossible for you. And anyway, you were not prepared to marry just yet. You wanted to see what the world had to offer. So you worked hard. The training at the Robichaux military academy was rigorous and hard, you had the scars to remember your time there. But to you, it was all worth it. Your work paid off when you were given the position of ‘royal knight’. This truly was the highest one could go. You were trusted enough to guard your king and his family, to proudly walk the halls of the royal palace with your sword by your side. Your village celebrated your achievement with great joy, everybody congratulating you as you returned to say your goodbyes before moving to the palace grounds. You were glad the pay was good too, meaning your parents no longer had to work the long and back breaking hours that they did, you could repay them for all they had done for you by making their lives a little more comfortable. You could also send your siblings to better schools, allowing them to make something of themselves and live comfortably. To you nothing could go wrong now. The chances of war were almost impossible, and you were sure you could patrol the palace halls with your eyes closed.

However, the universe did not allow your peace for long. The king had fallen ill. Everyone eventually met their end and he was coming on in age. But what truly turned the world on his head were his orders. Holy men and law makers alike were up in arms about the decision. The king’s children protested the possibility of this historical change. The king would possibly legitimise a bastard son. It was unheard of and improper. The existence of this bastard was an open secret, but no one expected that he would ever be allowed to set foot into the palace halls. In fact, the rumour was that the crown prince would have him killed as soon as he was coronated. A man like that would only cause problems until his last breath and the royal family would have none of it. The only reason he was allowed to live up until now was the soft spot the king had for his mistress; any other potential bastards were killed as soon as they were discovered, and the king made sure of that, keeping a record of the women he had shared the bed with. The task of retrieving the man was up to you. You expected someone of a higher ranking to be given the task, but the palace needed to be protected by the most experienced during the kingdoms vulnerable period. //// The journey was long and difficult. Your party had a three-day journey to make on horseback, into the furthest reaches of the kingdom. Your plan was to only spend one night in the area, as the man had been informed of the move weeks prior. You breathed a sigh of relief when you spotted the large iron gates. You dismounted from your horse and pulled the hood of your cloak down. The guard leered at you before noticing your uniform, quickly standing up straight and letting you into the manor grounds. You thanked him with a nod. A short and dark-haired woman was waiting for you at the manor entrance, he all black attire made her almost blend into the night that surrounded you. “State your name and your business here,” she spoke out to you. “Dame Y/N Y/SN, a knight a royal order, I am here by order of His Royal Majesty the King,” you held a scroll out to her. “We are here to ensure Lord Michael Langdon arrives to the capital safely as his presences is requested by His Majesty.” You held your head high and met her gaze with the same intensity. She closed the scroll and smiled. “We’ve been expecting your arrival, I am Miriam Mead. Please do come in, the servants will ensure your horses are looked after.” You simply nodded and followed behind. //// It was obvious that this manor was a former royal residence, apparently it was the King’s favourite before it was gifted to his mistress. Everything was artisanal and expensive. Fabrics and furnishings from lands afar, hours of painstaking work in every piece. It was all well looked after, not a speck of dust. You weren’t surprised, the king provided a healthy stipend that paid for the staff and luxuries. You were also sure that Michael had his own business too, as far as you were aware, he was well educated and well connected. You never were one to involve yourself in rumours, but your stop in the nearby town had you worried. The man had a reputation. But then again, who were you to judge, the royals you served were also involved in scandal and debauchery, they did not have a leg to stand on when it came to socially acceptable behaviour. Lost in thought, you didn’t realise that you had stopped in an elaborate dining room. You looked at Ms Mead with a questioning look. “My Lord would like to dine with the knights that have come to escort him,” she explained. This was very strange; nobility didn’t usually dine with knights. “I’m not really dressed for dinner,” you joked with the woman, pointing to you travelling armour. You men snickered at your comment. “Please disarm before you are seated, your gear will be retuned to you in the morning before your departure.” You gave her another confused expression, looking back at your men that wore the same look. “I’m being serious. Lord Langdon has many enemies, so we have to be extra careful, just in case.” You couldn’t really argue with her reasoning. You nodded and removed all your weapons, handing them to the staff that was waiting. The doors swung open just as you were handing you sword over. A man with blond curls walked into the room. He walked with authority and confidence; you knew by looking at him that this was the man that you were here for. His blue eyes glimmered in the candlelight as he sized up your crew. “I see, the king thinks I do not need a high security escort.” The sound of his voice halted every other sound in the room, you were sure you were holding your own breath. “And what about you?” he moved closer to you, not hiding his wandering eyes, “a gift from my father?” You couldn’t hide your expression of disgust. Upon a closer look, he looked more like his father than any of the King’s other children. He seemed to have the same attitude too. This was going to be a long few days. “I’m Dame Y/SN,” you bowed slightly, “I am here to over see your journey to the Palace,” you gave him a polite smile. “How interesting,” he moved away from you and to the dining table. “Well, I must thank you for travelling this far, please, join me for dinner,“ he gestured at the table, before seating himself at the top of the table. You hesitated before making your way to the table. You chose the seat furthest away from him as you weren’t prepared to engage in any small talk. He had already left a bad taste in your mouth. However, his eyes never left you during the mean, his gaze burning into you the whole time. //// It was finally time to retire for the evening, a long journey ahead of you. You breathed a sigh of relief as you pulled your hair out of its tight bun, lightly massaging your scalp to ease the ache. Luckily for you, you were placed in the female servants’ quarters, engaging in light chatter and trying to listen for any information about your host. A maid was bashfully explaining her encounter with him in the library just before you had arrived. None of this shocked you though, his father and brothers were the same type of men. The egos on these men were bigger than their dicks, the vice of pride had an iron grip on them. You settled into bed as the chatter continued around you, the tiredness finally caught up and you drifted off to the white noise. //// The sound of footsteps woke you from your slumber. You could feel a presence in the room, the smell of cinnamon wafting through the air. You kept your eyes shut and reached underneath your pillow for the dagger you hid in you boot earlier. You never fully disarmed, a lesson you learned at Robichaux the hard way. You felt a weight on you, you shot up, dagger pointed at the intruder. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness and the identity of your assailant shocked you. It was Michael. He let out a low chuckle, bringing his finger to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion. You looked around the room to see everyone else in a deep sleep. As you looked back at him, you realised your dagger had grazed him, a light trail of blood trickled down his cheekbone. He said nothing as he gripped your hand, pulling the dagger away and towards his mouth. He smirked, before licking the blade, keeping his eyes locked with yours. Your breathing was heavy, hand trembling in his vice grip. After he had finished, his grip on your hand tightened enough for the dagger to slip. He said nothing as he took it, inspecting the blade. He stood, pocketing your weapon, and without a word, he left. //// The incident from last night had you on high alert. You had breakfast with the rest of the staff, going on to give out instructions to all the staff that would be travelling with you. The carriages were double checked for any security issues and the final bits of luggage was loaded. Your weapons were returned earlier in the day. You were talking to Ms Mead, before you were irrupted by Michael himself. “I thought id come ask the two ladies in charge myself if we were ready to depart or not.” “The final checks have been completed my Lord. We are ready when you are,” you answered. “Very well then. I need to confirm my lodgings during the journey with Ms Mead then we shall be on our way.” “There is no need,” Ms Mead interrupted, “I was just speaking to Y/N over here, your lodgings haven been organised by the king my lord, you will be staying in royal residencies along the way.” Michael simply nodded at the information. You bowed as your name was called by one of your men, leaving the pair as they were whispering to one another. To your benefit, the royal lodgings had separate barracks for knights, allowing you to avoid the man for the next three days. //// You had never been more thankful to see the city gates of the capital. The past three days had been difficult. Your charge just couldn’t seem to behave himself, causing problems in every little town you had stopped in. The money you had to pay off was so much it had eaten into your personal allowance. It would be returned to you, but you still had to fill out the long expenses report. Your horse also seemed excited at the prospect of a long rest, speeding up through the city, knowing her way to the destination. You dismounted to pass through the rear palace gates. Michael was not yet important enough to be let in through the front. The thought made you chuckle as you were sure he was scowling at the fact. Your superior was waiting to welcome the guest, u made sure you conveyed the emotions you were feeling through your facial expression. He bit back a smile. You handed the scroll of orders to him, transferring all responsibility to him from here on out. You hoped to never meet Michael again, not even for the return of the army issued dagger. You were sure you could explain why it was missing. You left before the carriage door even opened, hoping to relax in the nice and warm bathhouse. //// Michael would have a personal meeting with the king, no one else would be present. All Michael knew was that he had to prove himself to his father. To show the king that he too was worthy of the title of prince. He had suffered with a lowly title for years, knowing in his heart of hearts that he was destined for more, destined for greater things. His mother and Ms Mead raised him to hold his head high no matter what, and take every opportunity that he could, even if he had to fight for it or snatch it away. He had spent most of his life doing whatever he wanted. Living under constant scrutiny in the palace would be difficult, but he’d adjust, he prided himself in his adaptability. He’d do anything to get to where he wanted to be and the royal family was not prepared for how far he would actually go. //// You headed to the dining hall after your bath. You looked forward to sharing a meal with friends. However, you were stopped by your superior before reaching the dining hall. “Y/N, you need to get changed, your presence has been requested by the king,” he ordered. The look of shock on your face was spectacular. Had Michael told the king about the dagger incident? Was this the end of your career? All for harming a bastard prince. You nodded and ran to your quarters, changing into the clothing you had for the occasion. Your superior stood waiting for you, not saying a word as you walked to the destination. You wanted to run as the doors slowly opened, revealing the king on his throne and Michael with his back to you. You stepped into the room and bowed low to the king, going through will all the formalities before standing up straight. “Lord Langdon has praised your work, Dame Y/SN,” the king spoke. Michael ground his teeth at the ‘Langdon’ moniker. It felt like a kick in the teeth to him, he was just as deserving of the ‘Morningstar’ name as the rest of his siblings.

“Thank you Your Majesty and Thank you my Lord,” you replied. “I have decided to make you his personal knight for the time being and you are free to choose the staff that will accompany you. I’m sure you are aware of the magnitude of this task.” “Yes your Majesty. I thank you for this honour,” you bowed again. Michael grinned at you, making you fear exactly what his motives were. There were only so many daggers you could be issued. “Sir Moore will have further instructions, you are dismissed,” the King finished. You bowed before leaving the room again. You didn’t speak until you were out of earshot. “He’s only been here a few hours and I can already tell he’s up to something,” John Henry said. He was your superior. You nodded at his observation having witnessed the scheming personality for three days straight. You prayed to the gods above that Langdon’s stay would not be long. Your prayers fell on deaf ears. You would spend the rest of your life cursing the crown you has sworn your life to.

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#my writing #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #KC1

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taking-over-his-life · 4 years

Text

A meeting with a park cleaner changed my life

I was woken up by the sun streaming into my bedroom. It was a brilliant day, after all that can be described as one hot, hot, steaming night. I was still wearing the rubber from the night before, and boy the scent of man and sex just lingered like a cloud around me, and I loved it. It keep me hard as steel.

I ate, and looked outside “time for a ride” I decided. I went to the wardrobe and looked through my leathers. The blue bike leathers were tempting, but the black had more give in them. If I’m wearing rubber underneath I need some room to manoeuvre.

On they went the leather jeans sticking to the rubber on my legs and gently caressing my dick. The boots slipped gently onto my rubbered feet . I felt my boots and legs and crotch, hard as iron. I grabbed the jacket and pulled it over my shoulders, and grabbed my helmet, gloves, glasses and back pack before heading to the bike.

I rode around for about an hour, getting even sweatier than before. My crotch and dick were soaked in sweat by the time I reached the local park. I found a park bench sat, and had a drink of water which I had brought with me, and lay down for a rest. My sunglasses were adjusted as the sun was hot. It also took account of me lying on the bench my face pointing at the sky. I lifted my booted feet on the arm of the bench. Within a few minutes I had dropped off to sleep.

I was woken by the sound of paper rustling and metal clanging. I looked up and saw a guy, stocky, unshaven, really horny looking man, emptying some bins. He was taking an interest in me too, slight looks out of the corner of his eye.

There was a bin next to me and it was next in turn, should I get up or just lie here. I decided to stay put and let him come to me.

He came up to the bench, he was wearing blue trousers with silver reflective stripes at the bottom, and what looked like 32 hole DMs underneath. They were red, scratched and worn, creases in the leather from wear. His hi viz jacket was filthy and ripped in places. He watched me intently as he played round with the bin. His gloved hand adjusting his crotch as he manovered the bin into a bag.

I sat up, looking straight at him. He jumped, “Hi, doesn’t look easy that,” I said, smiling my most seductive smile. “Yeah your right, its not” he responded. He was looking at me up and down enjoying the view. I sat up, legs wide apart, which attracted his eyes to my crotch. “You must be hot in that gear m8”, I said, “nice and sweaty” I continued smiling looking straight into his eyes?

He was embarrassed, his eyes went down, quietly he responded “you are hot in your leathers, sorry I mean you must be hot” “you got it right first time” I said.

I rubbed my gloved hand on my crotch which was getting bigger by the second. His eyes were wide and he was licking his lips “You like leather then?” I said, “Fuck yeah” he said, broad east end accent. “I bet you’d look good in em, you look fucking great in work gear, bet it smells great after a day” I said.

“I like to get sweaty” he said, “so do I” I retorted, “Id like to wipe some of yours on me. Do you wanna go in the bushes, I said “no”, he said “I know somewhere better. Follow me”?

I walked behind him as he led the way. A hard swagger as he walked his arms slightly out from his sides, his head down.

He took me to an old underground toilet which was locked off. He undid the padlock, and we went downstairs, he padlocked behind us, “won’t be disturbed down here” he said.

The place was filthy and stunk of dampness, and the stink of old piss. Old Victorian urinals were still there, the place was inhabited by dust and spiders.

I saw him walking down the stairs towards me, he was stocky and masculine, stubble, cropped head, no grace in his movements’ just man. His dick pushed the blue workpants out at the front. There was a damp patch and the end of his dick turning the pant dark blue

He walked up to me, “what’s your name” he demanded, “Dave” I said, “yours?” “Jason”, he responded. His eyebrows moved up and he licked his lips. “You like leather boi, do you?” I said, “Fuck do I”, he said, “id like to get inside yours, feel your stink on me”, with that he started to unzip my jacket, I stopped him, “when I’m ready boi,” I said. suddenly he lashed out one fucking forceful punch right on my chin, I went down. I blacked out.

I eventually woke up,I don’t know how long I had been out. I tried to move but couldn’t I tugged. I realised I was strapped in a chair, and electrodes were on my head. “what the fuck” I said, . I realised the chair was attached to some sort of machine. “What’s going on” I screamed as I tried to get free. , “don’t worry, you will be OK” came a voice. There was a video playing, hard leather ff, fisting fucking the lot, it was so horny, “you like??? “ Jason siad

He walked up to me. His hand went down to my crotch, “Tell me about yourself” he said, He unzipped my leather jeans and pulled out my dick which was hard by now.

“Those guys on screen are hot, Id love to exchange with them” he said. “In fact I’m going to change with you”. “Change what” I shouted, “places” he said, “take your body, brain, memories money, life, become you”.

“Wouldn’t that be hot, imagine if you were me. Tell me about yourself, i’m Jason”. He continued I was squirming and tugging to get loose and beat the crap out of the arsehole “Fuck off I said what sort of cyber is this” I shouted.

“Its real m8, I took the machine off a guy and have been playing ever since. Imagine ill soon have your body and looks, your money Your gear and you will be me. You like my body Mr its going to be yours” At this point he got down and started to suck me off, fuck it was good, his warm mouth over my dick, “I want your dick mr, to have my legs in leather and you my work gear and looks” he said, inbetween sucking.

“Your a fucking whacko, let me go” I shouted. With this he produced a syringe “I need to know more about you and this will help you relax” I struggled, and he put the syringe in my arm, ‘don’t damage my new body m8’ he said, I was screaming at him with rage. I soon started to weaken I started to drift off.

I could hear him talking to me “this will allow you to tell me the truth Dave ‘what’s your name”? I told him, he asked for my birthdate address, relatives, pin numbers of accounts workplaces, clubs, everything about me and I was powerless, I had to answer, the drugs had control.

“Sounds like you’re a rich fucker with a good life, great, ill enjoy it” he said.

His dick was erect, showing its full, think size through the material of his pants. I could see everything he was doing but I couldn’t respond. He stood directly in front of me and started to undress. He took off the hi viz to reveal a union jack T shirt tight against his muscled torso. He pulled down the blue trousers to reveal skin tight bleachers and red 21 hole DMs. I like what I saw but I was totally disabled and scared at what he was going to do.

He moved over the top of me, and stood on the arms of the chair I was in, so his groin was level with my head, “here try this” he siad, “it will be yours soon”.

With this he trust his erect dick into my mouth and down my throat, fuck it tasted and felt good, the smell was riveting, I saw the bleachers as he pushed against my face, I was so hard but couldn’t do anything. He kept thrusting till he came in my mouth I had no choice but to swallow, threads and threads of sweet tasting cum.. “You have my DNA Dave; you will soon have the rest”. he said as he looked me straight in the eye with an evil grin.

I was getting control of my body slowly, “That will never happen” I managed to splutter out” He started to laugh “oh no”, he said pointing to his machine “when I switch this on, you become a park cleaner, and me the leather man, so get ready Jason”. He said.

With that he got down from the chair and pulled up his bleachers, and sat on the other chair. He attached some diodes to his head, looked at me smiled and pressed a green switch.

I felt a huge jolt in my body, I felt weak and faint, so much so, I blacked out. I started to come too and open my eyes. when It was dark and damp, I was still down in the underground toilet. I started to move around, and felt really strange, the arm and chest strap’s seemed tighter than before. I heard a creaking sound of plastic as I moved. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realised I was wearing a hi viz jacket. Where were my leathers? , “fuck what’s he done”. I shouted out to myself.

I tried to get up but was tied down; there were leather straps around my wrists, and a belt around my chest.

I could feel my legs fastened down near the ankles, I started to strain to get free, and I felt strange as I pushed and pulled but couldn’t get free. I shouted, “let me go, you fuck”. Then the lights came on.

“Hi” a voice came from behind, it sounded familiar, “how you doing Jason” it siad. “Who are you talking too” I said, but my voice was strange, it wasn’t mine it had a strange east end accent, My mind was going wild… “You boi” he said, and then he came into view.

It was half light; the top of him was in darkness and the rest of him in the light. He was dressed in my leathers, “fuck there my clothes cunt” I cried. Everything outa my mouth felt and sounded so strange. “Nope Jason they are mine now” he said in my voice, “who the fucks Jason” I screamed. “You are, look at me boi” he said, and then he stepped into the light in front of me…

The leathers fit him perfectly; my laced jeans, tight on his legs, my high shine Chippewa boots, Hein Gerick jacket and gloves, then the shock. It was my face, he had my body, and he was me.

He had my body and gear, I struggled, “NOOOOOOO!” I screamed at the top of my voice. “Yes I’m you, gonna enjoy my new bike Jason. How do you think I look? Eh? This life feels good” he said,

“I’m the rich biker, and you’re the fucking filthy cleaner” he continued. 2Let me go you fucking bastard, you’re not me I’m no fucking cleaner” I screamed. In seconds his leathered hand was on my mouth, and then out came a cloth, it was soaked in ether, I struggled and screamed, but had to take in breath, “Shut the fuck up Jason. The chair will release you in 5 mins. Heres’ your van key the old Renault round the back, you live at 6 Stockwell flats. Heres your key, he put them in the hi viz, you are me… Enjoy” . With that he rubbed his leathered hand over my shaved head, and smiled at me. I passed out. He walked out and left me.

The five minutes passed slowly as I struggled. I could feel big differences in this body, my arms were bigger than before and my thighs, I stunk, of sweat and dirt, it was intoxicating, but I was terrified, who was I.

Suddenly the chair unlocked itself, and I quickly jumped out. I started to feel my face, lots of hard stubble shaved head, it felt thuggish. I searched around and found a mirror; I cleaned it off and stared into it.

What I saw terrified me, it was someone else, not me, younger, masculine, dumb and thuggish looking. Initially shocked as I looked I liked it. I started to feel my new body, I had lost 6 inches in height but gained it in girth. My pecs were huge. I stripped off and started to look and feel, tatts piercings, my dick was huge and thick, pierced and hard, fuck I liked it.

I redressed in those stinking work clothes, and went upstairs. I found his car out back and got into it. What a fucking tip, papers old cans, it was disgusting, and this guy was a fucking filthy slob.

The van was old, a wreck. I started off and got eventually to his place. It was a council block, 3 floors high. His flat, or mine now, was on the top floor in the corner. There was a grill over the door which I unlocked. Then the door had two locks I opened the door and in I went. It stunk of piss. There was a lounge bathroom kitchen and bedroom. They hadn’t been cleaned for years paper cans food all over, clothes on the floor. Lots of the gear caught my attention. It was mainly skin gear, bleachers 20 hole DMs, fucking horny I thought, and this new dick started to jump.

I went into the bedroom and it was just a mattress on the floor a few blankets and a rubber sheet, nazi pics covered the walls and a swastika flag. It stunk off piss sweat, and cum. It was a hole.

I started to feel a craving what I didn’t know. I saw cigarette buts all over so decided to light up, fuck it was great my lungs just took it in and embraced it. What a feeling.

I stripped off the work clothes and started to look at this body. Fuck it was thuggish and horny. I had tatts on both arms, top and bottom, Nazi flags and insignia, A swastika over my left breast. Celtic designs on my back and legs. Tats of runes on the back of my neck.

I moved the huge hands and stroked them over my pecs and tits, the hair on my chest felt so soft on my hard calloused hands, I moved down to my stomach and felt the outline of a six pack. Then round my thighs to my hard pert arse.

I was pierced a huge prince Albert in my dick, a ring in each nip, rings in my nose, three on my left ear. I was a horny fucker. My dick was hard and seeping, I held it, and it was so fucking hard. I put my finger in the pre cum, smelt it and tasted it, it was sweet and good.

I picked up a pair of pissed on and filthy bleachers and put them on, over my thick hairy legs, they were tight around my new pert arse.This new dick was rampant it was hard to get it in the pants.

Then I saw some red 20 hole steel toe capped DMs, woof I thought. There were some long socks next to them so on they went, boy the reeked, then the DMs it took me ages to lace em but they were so fucking horny. I looked in the mirror and fuck was I something. The braces on the bleachers hung down near my arse. I looked at my huge muscles arms and good smell my pits, I moved my head under them and enjoyed the man stink, rubbing the sweat from then on my nose.

I found a union jack T shirt stained and stinking of BO, it almost knocked u out and put it on. It was tight showing off my new torso. I was at that mirror looking from every angle, enjoying each view.

I lay there on the stinking rubber sheet in stinking gear with an unwashed filthy body of a thug, and was in heaven. Smoking away. What a fucking trip to tell my m8s about.

I woke up to a knock at the door. I stood up quickly forgetting where or who I was. A bit of panic, who is it?

I pulled myself together and opened the door; three skin heads said hi m8 and walk straight in. here u go said one, and passed me a beer.

“How u doing Jase” one said, I went along and soon got into conversation with them. Frightening looking thugs, but all so fucking horny and masculine.

The ciggs were out the beer being passed around, then one brought out a DVD, “stick this in Jase” he said. I put the DVD on, and sat on a sofa next to another skin called Ed, who put his arm around me. I snuggled in and didn’t say a word. The vid started, it was hot skin on skin porn. Lots of nazi overtones.

But man on mansex like id never seen before. Ed got his dick out, and look at me grabbed the back of my head, down boi, he said and manoeuvred me to the floor, His dick was huge tattooed and pierced. Woof, I got down and started to lick and suck.

He was a filthy fucker pushing his seeping cock deep inside my mouth and throat. The thoughts in my mind, hard muscled thugs and me one of them. I held his worn 20 hole black DMs as I enjoyed his taste. By this time the other two were at it. One of them had laid out some lines of coke. ED pulled up my head and started to snog me his tongue in my mouth nose ears. We walked over the table and started to snort the lines. MY whole body was vibrating with excitement. My dick so hard and solid. I actually liked who I was now.

The night rolled on, sex followed, fisting fucking you name it the drugs were plentiful the beer and ciggs, me and my ed shared everything. Then all 4 of us john and reg ended up on the bed, piss, drugs a dick in my arse my mouth my dick in everyone’s arse, fucking hell it was great.

We all stripped off, I had turned off the light and lit some candles. The syringes and drugs were laid out We enjoyed the feelings and just drank spirits till we were paralytic. The Viagra kept us all hard, I was lying on the rubber sheet with Ed, when Reg started to piss on us both. Reg was rubbing the piss into our skins and massaging my dick I got onto my knees, and Reg got down and started to suck at my dick and balls, Ed was kissing me his tongue deep in me as John started to push his dick into my man cunt

I was tingling all over as he entered deep inside of me This is what I really wanted to do and be. There was no way I was giving this up, I was now Jason, I was the skin. I wasn’t going anywhere.

It was 11 am I woke up and went to the loo. I looked down and saw my new dick and legs and remembered last night, Reg followed me and within seconds he was inside me Pissing in my arse. I loved it.

Ed was a muscular well built guy, shaved all over, deep blue eyes. I think we were an item if not I wanted to be. I washed regs piss off my legs, and got back on the bed with ED, and put my arms round him, He snuggled in

My dick was like iron, as I manoeuvred it to his hole, then I started to push, my hand held his dick as the other massaged his tits

Gradually I worked my way deep inside of him, my balls banging against his arse. He got on all fours, and I went in-between his legs and fucked him rigid doggy style

He grunted and groaned with sheer pleasure. I rammed him so hard his head hit the wall, my balls just strained and I emptied pints of my man cum so deep inside his guts. He just shivered with excitement and pleasure. . I lay on top of him. And we slept It was 3pm we got up naked, and made a cup of tea, he kept feeling me arse chest dick kissing me,

We talked and talked. Then I realised he fancied me but he wasn’t mine. Fuck, I couldn’t believe it, but it was me in Jases body, should I do this or wait till I change back. No fuck it I wanted him, Fuck Jase I had his body I wanted Ed. I asked him to stay with me, he said yes.

I watched him intently, as he started to dress, he picked up his undies and put them on, his dick and balls filled them so well. ‘give me them’ I said, I want part of you on me. He smiled, ‘you fucking perv’ I smiled. He pulled them off his dick and arse and handed them to me. I smelled them, pushing them against my nose, his smell was intoxicating.

My dick was attached to my nose. I pulled his undies on, they caressed my arse and dick, he started to feel me in them and kiss me. I wanted every liquid he could give me, his stink all over me. I was in love.

I picked up some stained bleachers, more white or dirty white than blue, and put my feet into them, pulled them up over my muscular legs and over my arse and dick. My dick showed its shape against the denim, and that was yellow and grey stained with piss and dirt. Oh they felt good, then the socks rank and sticky and red worn 20 whole DMs. Ed laced them for me as I caressed his back and head, he sucked at my shaft under the jeans, and he laced my DMs.

I put some huge rings on each finger some dog tags round my neck. He dressed in a similar way. “Let’s go out” he said. I looked at him and pushed him against the wall, and started to kiss him my tongue caressing his mouth, he tasted good our dicks were touching getting bigger, “Fuck you dirty bastard, let’s get out here or ill end up inside you again”, “OK” I said.

#bodyswap #body swap #body switch #male body swap

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demivampirew · 4 years

Text

Keep Calm and Go to London chapter 8

Synopsis: This is the story of (y/n), a successful actress, musician, musical producer and songwriter. After battling depression and breaking up a long relationship, she seeks for a change of air, escaping LA for a while going to visit some friends in London and there she meets Henry. -Disclaimer: some chapters are mostly smut.

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Triggers: smut

Tag list: Here’s the incredible people who showed me support (thank you so much for that) and people who asked me to tag them too ☺️ (I think I will write a few chapters of this story, if you want me to tag you, tell me ☺️ ) @cavillanche @mary-ann84 @henry-owns-these-tatas @yespolkadotkitty @dancingwendigo constip8merm8 penwieldingdreamer iloveyouyen littlefreya wondersofdreaming alyxkbrl solariumss sweetybuzz25 @thethirstyarchive @agniavateira @honeyloverogers @hell1129-blog @lunedelorient @michelle-1185

You were glad that you picked a big bag and that you brought enough clothing for at least another day. You didn't want to overstay your welcome, but there was like an invisible force dragging you to him. You wanted to be near him as much as you could. He didn't ask you to stay and you were a little afraid to ask. "If you asked, he's probably going to say yes...but, would it be because he wants to or because he's polite?" you asked yourself. You put on some jeans and a green sweater and the boots you were the day before -luckily, you choose a pair of boots that looked good with everything and were really comfortable- and then went to the kitchen to have breakfast with Henry. When you got there, he had prepared you waffles and tea and he prepared himself some meat among other things that his diet required. You ate the delicious breakfast while you were talking about the show and that he started filming that week. After breakfast, he asked you what you wanted for lunch and dinner and you couldn't help yourself but smile brightly. - What? - he asked you curiously and amused - I didn't know if you wanted me to stay another day and I didn't want to ask, it did not seem appropriate. - you replied and he looked at you confused. - For now on always assume that I want you to stay. I think you should check out of the hotel and stay here as long as you are in London. -he said as he approaches you and stroked your face and kissed you. - I'm going to do some grocery shopping today, you should come with me and then we go to the hotel so you can pick up your stuff and let the hotel receptionist know that you're leaving, ok? I mean, only if you want to. -Absolutely- you answered; you couldn't contain your happiness. Thankfully, Henry knew exactly all the right places to go shopping without worrying about getting recognized. He bought enough foodstuff for three days. After that, you went to the hotel. Thankfully, you let the receptionist know that you were leaving early and there was no problem and she was nice enough to allow you to take Kal to the suit too. Thankfully, you didn't have much work to do. You hated unpacking in hotel rooms, so most of your belongings were in your suitcases. You went to the bathroom to make sure there were no items left and after that, the two of you left with your three big suitcases and your guitar -you never went anywhere without one-. You carry two bags and hang your guitar on your shoulder. Henry wanted so badly to play the gentleman and handled all by himself, but had to admit that he needed a free hand to carry Kal's leash. He also tried to carry my guitar, but his arms were too big and the case's straps were too tight and didn't fit him. You laughed because he was the cutest thing in this world. While Henry was preparing dinner, you were trying to unpack your clothes but keep getting interrupted by Kal who wanted you to play with him. Your phone rang as you were petting the puppy and you saw your agent's name in the id caller. - Hi Bri! How are you? - you said as soon as you answer the call - Hi y/n! I'm great! How are you doing? - Much better. London it's been great. It's been a blessing coming here. - Yeah, I bet coming has been a blessing.- he replied and you notice by the tone of his voice that he was making a double sense comment. -Who told you? - you asked irritated but laughing a bit for the stupid comment. - Beth. Don't blame her, she thought that I'd already known. So, you and Superman. - Yep. - Are you dating? Or just hooking up? - Somewhere in between. We like each other a lot and we like to spend time together, but for the moment that's all. We'll see, there's no rush. - Well...so I'm not sure then how are you going to take the news that I got for you. - What news? - you questioned worriedly - I got the date for the audition for the movie. - OMG! That's great!- you exclaimed excitedly. - It's in four days. So I need your ass in a plane to LA as soon as possible if you want to make it in time. - you had to sit on the bed as you heard the news. Four days? Things were just starting with Henry and you already had to leave him to go back to LA. You couldn't miss the audition, it was the opportunity that you've waiting for, working again with your friend Anne Hathaway and finally getting to work with your idol, with the great Meryl Streep. You wanted to ask Henry to go to LA with you, but you knew that wasn't even a possibility, not just because you'd never dare to ask him to do something like that for you, it was too much to ask, and also he started to film the second season of The Witcher that week. So you knew that you would have to leave him for a few days to audition. Kal must have felt your sadness because he started to make noises and caressing your hand with his head. After the call ended, with Brian letting you know that he was going to booked the plane ticket for you, and with you asking him to allow you to have that last night with Henry before leaving, so he promised to get it for the next day and he informed you that he was going to send you via mail the script that you had to learn for the audition. You went to the kitchen and saw Henry cooking a delicious dinner. You couldn't look into his face, so you hugged him from behind, put your face on his back and sigh, then slightly turn your face to the side, still resting your head on his body, and told him the news. You could feel his body get tensed. He was upset as well. He turned around, you could see that he was sad but doing his best to hide it from you. -It'd be just four a few days, right? It's ok!- he said as he placed his forehead on yours, and you weren't sure if he was talking to you or himself. -Yes. I have the audition in four days and I'll probably stay there for a few days to take care of a few things and to see my bff, but then I'll be back, I promise. Besides, I'm looking to move here, remember? So of course that I'm coming back.- you assure him. He cupped your face with his hands and kissed you and then hugged you. -This is our last night together for a few days, let's make it count, should we? - Couldn't agree more! - he smiled at you and grabbed your hand to kiss it. - I have a special surprise for you tonight- you said playfully. - Oh, really? -he asked amused -Yes, but I need to ask you to do something for me tonight. - Whatever you want me to, just tell me. - Could you... wear a suit? - your question and gave him an not so innocent look. - Yeah...why?- he asked curiously. -For now, that's all you need to know. After the tasteful dinner, you chat for some time and then you excused yourself to go to the bathroom to refresh yourself. You indicated Henry that you were going to text him to let him know when you were ready and he could enter the room. He put on a dark grey suit with a shirt underneath and a nice pair of shoes. After waiting for half an hour, he got the text from you saying that was ok to enter the room. As soon as he got into the room, he turned on the lights, that was off. And there you were, sitting on the edge of the bed, with your legs crossed, wearing a red silk robe that looked more like a dress than a robe; it was slightly opened on the top, so a red lace bra that you had on was visible. You picked up your hair in a middle ponytail and looked amazing with the curls. Your make up was quite simple but perfect, barely any eyeshadow, mascara, foundation and the most important of all, a vibrant red colour lipstick. You could see it on his face, he completely lost it as soon as he saw you. - I've been waiting for you, Mr. Bond. - you said in a serious tone. He looked confused. - I know why you are here. You're looking for this - you took a small pen drive that was hidden on your bra- You want this, don't you, Mr. Bond? - you questioned continuing with the game. Finally, Henry understood what was going on and followed your lead, smoothly getting closer to you and trying to take the device from your hand, but it was too late, you had hidden it again.- I'm not giving it up so easily...if you want it, you'll have to earn it- you implied and starred at him with a devilishly look. He looked at you with desired, but annoyed like if he didn't have time for that, he was truly getting into the role. You grabbed his face with your left hand and licked his right cheek and then whisper into his ear - I've heard that you're even better as a lover than as a spy- you said and smiled. After a second of looking intensely into each other's eyes, he picked you up by your thighs and put you against a wall, and started to kiss your neck and your breasts. You stopped him and pull him away from you. You were smirking as you told him that you were the one that set the rules. He pulled himself up and gave you an annoyed look, waiting for instructions. - Go to the and lay on it. Don't take off your clothes. you ordered him and he obeyed you. Once he was resting on the bed, you took two silk scarfs and used them to tight his hands on each side of the bed. Then you got on top of him and put a black scarf on his head, covering his eyes. You whispered on his ear "my rules: you can't see or touch" and you laughed. Then, you begin to run your fingers through his body. You unbuttoned his shirt and started kissing his chest and taking small bites, not too deep to hurt him. You liked his lips and the placed your finger on top of them, feeling them. You reached his pants and unzipped them and then grabbed his member by the side, still with his underwear on and the past your tongue through it. You look at his face and you could see the anger; he was furious, he was a loud lover, he already wanted to scream of pleasure, but probably felt like that was not something Bond would do. For some reason, that sense of desperation turned you on even more. You took off his shoes and the rest of the clothing getting in the way. You grabbed his penis and put it into your mouth. You liked up and down, in circles around the top. You made sure he felt your lips surround him and then you went deep into the base of his cock. He tried hard not to make a noise, but it was getting harder and harder for him. You could feel him on your throat and then slowly took him out and continue the same rhythm than before. You repeated the same thing once again and then started to kiss his chest again. You also planted kisses on his Adam's apple. You took the scarf that was covering his eyes and he looked at you. For a little moment, you could see Henry, thirsty for you, wanted to take you so bad, and then you saw Bond again; he has enjoyed the game you came up with, maybe a little too much. You grabbed his hard member a put it inside of put, pulling your panties aside. You started to ride him. You saw him battle a few times to set his hands free, but couldn't. Finally, after a while, you decided to set him free. He stood up and you looked at him. "This isn't over, Mr. Bond. If you want this, you'll have to go all the way through" you exclaimed. You stood up and went after him and he turned around and grabbed you and put you against the wall. He tossed your panties away and grabbed one of your legs and put it on his shoulder as he went down on you. He took his time to pleasure you with his tongue and the made you turn around and bend slightly and he fucked you hard against the wall. Then, he was penetrating you hard against the wall, while he grabbed you by your thighs. After he came, he went down on you again. -Take it, you earned it.-you said handed him the pen drive. It was a pleasure Mr. Bond. I hope this is not the last time we made business together.- you finished and winked at him and then went into the bathroom. Well, for sure this was a night Henry will never forget.

#henry cavill #fanfiction #demivampirew #henry cavill x reader

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this-is-a-podcast-fanblog · 4 years

Text

another esteban fic

You thought I was done.

Night Vale spoilers ahead for the recent episodes as well as for Spy In the Desert!

~~~

The Night Vale adoption agency is the most important place Cecil has been to in a long time. It’s also one singular office, about the size of a hotel bathroom, with a card table and folding chairs under a bright poster that says, “YOU CAN ADOPT! YOU WILL ADOPT! YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO ADOPT!” A very tired-looking case worker in a black dress sits across the table picking at a Nature Valley granola bar with one of her hands. Her other two are typing across a laptop.

“So,” she says, “adoption in Night Vale isn’t like other places.”

“Of course.” Cecil smiles and glances at his husband, who, thankfully, doesn’t look too nervous.

“Naturally, there are no cases of children that need to be adopted within the city.” She gives them a knowing look over her glasses. Carlos frowns in Cecil’s peripheral vision.

“Why is that?”

“Children in need of adoption are adopted by the Hooded Figures,” Cecil explains in unison with the woman.

Carlos shifts in his seat. “Um, is that a good idea? Are the kids safe there?”

“Of course. They have regular health and safety inspections from the Sheriff’s Secret Police, the Night Vale Board of Family Services, and the GrubHub delivery guy.” The case worker raps her nails definitively on the desk. “Plus, the kids have an indoor waterpark to play in once they get home from school. They’re very happy.”

Carlos lifts an eyebrow “But it’s proportionally impossible for a water park to fit in the dog par-”

“NOT ALL THINGS SHALL MAKE SENSE!” booms the case worker, and Carlos stops talking. “Now.” She collects herself and resumes her smile. “We’ll be adding you to a database of parents, since you’ve passed all of your inspections and filled out your paperwork. If there are children entered into the system, case workers will consider you to adopt based on the child’s needs and location. You’ll be getting a call from us soon.”

Cecil beams. He squeezes Carlos’s hand under the folding table. Carlos’s warm, perfectly soft thumb slides over Cecil’s wedding ring, an adorable thing he’s been doing for years now. Little touches like that are why it’s so easy to love Carlos. Carlos is an incredible scientist and husband, and soon, he’s going to be an amazing father. They both will be.

“If you have any questions?” The case worker’s first two arms tap her papers into a stack, while the third throws out her granola bar wrapper.

“How much notice will we get?” asks Carlos, who has a list of important parenting questions written down.

“At least 24 hours, in case you need to fly out of the city. Anything else?”

“Do you think babies prefer ducklings or froggies?” asks Cecil, who has been nesting for the past few days.

“Ducklings,” says the worker. “You two have a lovely day.”

They pull into the parking lot of Buy Buy Baby Not Bye Bye Baby, the best baby supply store in town. Cecil turns off the engine. Neither of them unbuckle. For a while, they sit in the silence of the car, watching a shopping cart roll away across the parking lot and into some ornamental bushes.

“We’re going to be dads,” says Carlos at length, breaking the silence.

Cecil turns to look at him. “How are you feeling?”

Carlos smiles, laughs, ducks his head. He’s so adorable. Even his awed laughter is perfect. “Cecil, I don’t have any scientific words for how I’m feeling - I don’t even think I can quantify it, you know? Cece.” He bites his smile, which has begun quivering. “I’m adopting a baby. With my husband. I just...”

“Never thought it would happen,” Cecil finishes.

Carlos nods. Cecil unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over to kiss the bridge of Carlos’s nose above his glasses.

“It is real,” he promises. “It’s really, really happening! And now we have to go buy some onesies while they’re still on sale!”

“I will not let anyone get to the onesies before me.”

“They’re OUR baby’s onesies!” Cecil proclaims as both of them get out of the car and run to grab a shopping cart.

The store is crowded today, moms and dads and parents jostling each other through the well-stocked aisles of formula and plushies. They are not like the Palmer-Scientist husbands, whose combined years of exceptional journalism and groundbreaking science have made them especially smart. Cecil and Carlos have their strategy planned. Carlos pushes the cart down aisles in the exact order that they need. Cecil stands on the front of the cart, shouting things like, “Hey, new dads coming through! If you don’t get out of our way you’re homophobic!

Back at home, they drag their purchases into a currently-empty room. This room promises to become a nursery, just as soon as one of them works up the courage to build the IKEA crib.

“You shouldn’t be able to buy an IKEA crib at Buy Buy Baby,” Carlos comments, as he begins unpacking a bag of stuffed animals.

“You shouldn’t be able to buy a lot of things at Buy Buy Baby! Oh, did we remember the -”

“-bloodstone mobile? Yup! I have it right here.”

“I love you.”

They turn on music and set up the nursery. Gravity in the town conveniently shuts off for 12 minutes, so they stick glow-in-the-dark stars to the ceiling. They hang up curtains. When gravity comes back they set up the changing station, with a mat on the top shelf, baby powder and boxes of diapers on the bottom shelf. Cecil is obsessed with the changing station.

“It’s so CUTE!” He gestures to one of the cloth diapers. “Look how TINY this is!”

“Babies are very small! Did you know that a baby’s head makes up more than a quarter of their entire body length?”

“No way!” Cecil thinks about adding that to the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner, but they’ve agreed together not to talk about their adoption on the radio. He places the dresser next to the changing station and places the equally tiny baby clothes into the drawers. Cecil already has matching outfits for all of the baby’s clothes.

When Carlos gets frustrated over wrestling the IKEA crib, they take a snack break. They bring apple slices and peanut butter into the nursery, along with a bottle of wine, and sit on the floor to eat.

“Did the case worker say whether our baby is male or female?” Cecil asks.

Carlos pops an apple slice into Cecil’s mouth. “The concept of marketing color-coding to infants based on a gender they may not actually identify with is a capitalist tool to sell more baby clothes,” he says. “Also, it’s been scientifically proven that blue isn’t a more masculine color. And pink isn’t more feminine, it just isn’t.”

“I know that. But we need to get our baby a Social Night Vale ID.”

“Like a social security number?”

“More like a driver’s license. All kids under 18 have to have one, just in case they get arrested for not eating at Big Rico’s.” Cecil licks a smidge of peanut butter off of Carlos’s thumb. “Since not all kids can afford pizza, and so the law only applies to adults. It’s a get out of jail free card.”

“Huh.” Carlos frowns. “Even babies need one?”

“Yes. That’s the municipal decree.” Cecil stretches and refills his wine glass. “We can just put X on the form for now. City Council has to understand, I mean, we don’t even have the baby yet.”

“The baby,” Carlos repeats, like he’s savoring the word. “Our baby.”

Cecil gives him a quick kiss. Carlos wraps both arms around him and pulls him close, the two of them tangling up on the floor, and they turn it into a long kiss.

“I’m worried I won’t be a good dad, though,” Carlos murmurs as he sits up.

Cecil dusts off his polka dot overalls. “I think being a dad is something no one starts off good at,” he says. “It’s like radio hosting. Or pouring out libations to the elder gods. It just takes a little time to get into practice. C’mon.” He tips his beret-capped head at the IKEA cabinet. “Let’s fight this thing some more.”

A few days pass. Their nursery sits finished, though Cecil goes in every few hours to change the angle of a piece of furniture, or add another stuffed duckling to the pile of stuffed animals on a shelf. Carlos has added baby-proof handles to all of their doors, just in case the child they adopt is able to walk. “Did you know most babies take their first steps between nine and 12 months?” he says. “And then they start talking, like in little sentences, between 18 months and two years! But for some kids that kind of thing takes a little longer - I mean, I didn’t start talking until I was five. Or, some kids never learn to talk. And that’s okay!”

For the most part, they try to go about their normal lives. Guessing at what day they’ll get the call would only create anxiety. Cecil focuses on writing his shows and doing his outfits and makeup. “Babies need a lot of attention,” Carlos tells him. “We won’t have as much time for makeup or science or whatever.”

“You’re learning a lot of scientific facts about babies,” Cecil comments as he laces up his hip-high boots. They’re boots so high that they can be worn as pants, though he’s put a skirt over them anyway, because fashion.

Carlos nods. “Yeah. I’m... I’m worried, actually.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Worried that I’m not going to be as good of a dad as I want to be, you know? I want our baby’s life to be perfect.”

“Nothing is ever perfect,” Cecil assures him. Carlos nods, unconvinced. “I’m worried too, though. I understand. All we can do now is wait.”

In the end, they don’t have to wait long. The Palmer-Scientists are curled up in bed, sound asleep, a week and a half after visiting the adoption agency, when Carlos’s phone starts ringing.”

“Nhhh,” he mumbles. He tries to reach across Cecil to grab it and accidentally smacks his husband in the face. “I’m awake, I’m awake. Thanks, babe,” he adds as Cecil hands him the phone. “Hello?” Carlos sits up abruptly in bed. “Wait,” he says. “Really? Right now?”

“Put it on speaker.”

“Sorry, let me put it on speaker so Cecil can hear.” He fumbles with his phone through shaking hands. “Okay.”

“Hello, Cecil,” says the case worker’s voice. “Can you get a flight tonight?”

Cecil can feel his heart hammering in his stomach, and in his brain, and all throughout his body, like somersaults of nerves racking his entire form. “You mean...?”

“I’ve just received a call from the Children’s Hospital of Arizona,” the case worker continues. “They need an emergency adoption. A woman came in to their labor wing earlier this sick, but after giving birth, she fled. No one has seen her. She only left her baby, and a note saying she doesn’t want him.”

“W-why not?” Carlos asks.

“Because he was premature. Initially, it looked like he wouldn’t survive for very long. Don’t worry,” she says as Cecil makes a cry of worry. “He’s been very sick, but has improved in the past few days. The doctors want him to leave the intensive care wing, but only if a family can take him in immediately and monitor his health. They also want a family that lives near a hospital. Fortunately, you meet all those conditions.”

“He must be so scared,” Cecil whimpers, “All alone there.”

“Which is why you need to get on the soonest flight you can. Tonight, if possible. From there, get a taxi or something to the hospital and check in at the maternal wing. And you’ll need an incubator at home, just as a precaution if he gets sick again. Okay?”

Carlos nods and squeezes Cecil’s hand.

“Okay. I’m looking forward to seeing you two in my office soon.” There’s a smile in the case worker’s voice. “With your son. Please call me if you need anything.”

“We will. Thanks.”

Carlos hangs up. He sets down his phone on the bed and turns to Cecil, and when their eyes meet they both burst into tears. Cecil collapses into Carlos’s arms and buries his face in his shoulder, shaking. “Oh, my god, this is happening,” he whispers. “And-and he’s all alone, in Arizona, and he’s sick -”

“Yeah, and what if we can’t take care of him?” Carlos’s arms tremble. “If, if I’m a really terrible dad, and I make him even more sick? And he gets taken away from us? Or he grows up and he isn’t happy here, isn’t happy because I wasn’t good enough -”

“Carlos.” Cecil sits up and wipes his eyes. He cradles Carlos’s face in his hands. “Carlos, you are the most perfectly imperfect person, and husband, and you will be an amazing father. Okay? Like the case worker said, we’re right near the Night Vale hospital! We can help our son if he gets sick again.” Cecil sighs as Carlos keeps crying. “Sweetie...”

This is new to him. Because when the town is falling apart or the grocery store stops existing or dragons sweep from the sky, Cecil has an answer for what Carlos doesn’t understand. Or when something in the world is confusing, Carlos has a scientific explanation for it. There are no explanations for learning, in the late hours of the night, that their future son is sick in another state, and that in the course of a few short hours, their entire life will change.

Instead, Cecil cuddles Carlos closer and kisses the top of his head. “We will be okay,” he says. “And our son will be okay. I promise.”

Carlos sniffles and dabs at his eyes with the sleeve of his nighttime lab coat. “B-but we don’t have an incubator.”

“Okay... so only one of us will go to Arizona. You go, you know all the scientific facts about babies.” Carlos’s eyes go wide. “You do, Carlos. You know so much! And you’re better at leaving Night Vale, anyway.” The last time they tried to leave the town for a weekend getaway, Cecil kept teleporting back to Night Vale against his will. Aging did that to citizens. “You can do this, bunny. I know you can.”

“I can do this.”

“Yes, babe.”

Carlos nods and takes a deep breath. “I’m going to go get our son,” he says. “And bring him home, safe.”

“And I’m going to get an incubator and have his nursery all ready for him when you get back.” Cecil smiles. “This is exciting! Carlos, we’re finally going to have a baby! We’re going to raise a family together!”

“Yeah.” Carlos smiles and leans in to kiss Cecil. “Yeah, we are!”

They get up. Cecil packs an overnight bag for Carlos while Carlos packed a bag for the baby - diapers, formula, an outfit and a warm blanket for the plane.

“Okay,” he said as he stuffed a blanket into the baby bag. “Do I have everything?”

“You’re forgetting your bag.” Cecil held it out. “This has an extra lab coat and your fidget magnets. Oh, and some snacks. Snacks are very important.”

“You are the best.” Carlos kissed Cecil’s cheek and took the bag. Then he drew a deep breath and looked around. “Well,” he said. “This is the last time we’ll be alone in our house for a while.”

“Our entire life is about to change.” Cecil smoothed the lapel on Carlos’s lab coat. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come to the airport with you?”

“No, I want you to sleep. We won’t be getting a lot of it, because on average, babies will wake up and cry two to three times a night, and they won’t go back to sleep until they’ve been comforted and fed.”

“That’s a good fact to know.” Cecil holds out his arms for one long hug. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too.”

They break apart, kiss, hug again, break apart. “Okay,” says Carlos. “Okay.”

“Okay,” says Cecil. “Oh, wait!” He runs to the nursery and brings back one of the stuffed ducklings. “So he’ll have something to play with.”

Carlos nods and tucks it into the baby bag. Cecil reaches up and gives him one last kiss.

“I love you,” he says. “Bring our son home safe.”

And then Carlos leaves, with the sound of a closing door and a revving car engine, and Cecil is alone in the house watching the lights of Carlos’s car fade through the window. He puts on one of Carlos’s lab coats, gets a blanket, and goes to the nursery. He double- and triple- checking that everything is in order. The sun-shaped clock on the wall proclaims that it is 3:12 AM. At eight, he will get up and drive into the shopping district for an incubator.

For now, he curls up in the rocking chair. He watches the bloodstone mobile spin in a breeze that isn’t actually there. And, eventually, under the clock’s steady ticking, Cecil falls asleep in a coat that smells like his husband, in a room that will be his son’s.

#my little brother was adopted when he was 2 months old #he's older now #and he still can't talk #but that doesn't matter because he's found other ways to communicate #all kids deserve love regardless of how they communicate #welcome to night vale #night vale spoilers #cecil palmer #carlos the scientist #cecilos #esteban palmer #my fanfiction #all hail the glow cloud #thank you finknor for my life

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readyplayerhobi · 5 years

Text

Mulled Wine

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 2k

; Synopsis: Christmas is a time for happiness, joy and love. Your first Christmas with Hoseok isn’t spent with him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t get to enjoy it without him.

; A/N: Just a little drabble I knocked up. I didn’t proof read it but...I just wanted some soft Hobi so...enjoy I guess? Please reblog and like if you enjoyed and let me know what you thought! I’m in a bit of a writing slump so...<3

The lingering scent of Christmas dinner enriches the air around you, letting your mind wander back to the delicious meal you’d eaten only an hour before. Your stomach is slightly tender and swollen from the extortionate amount of food you’ve eaten, but you refuse to feel guilty over it.

It’s Christmas...it’s the time to overindulge and eat enough food to make yourself thoroughly sick the next day.

And god dammit, your mom’s cooking was delicious. So you had savoured every bite from your plate, enjoying the burst of flavours that evoked memories of previous years with fondness. Plus, it was always lovely to have a meal that you hadn’t made yourself. Food always tastes better that way.

The lighting in the living room is low, the twinkling lights that adorn the tree glowed softly while those on the window reflect back against the darkness of the night outside. Christmas cards adorn the walls and mantlepiece while tasteful decorations are dotted around the room.

From the kitchen, you can hear your parents talking quietly as they clean up the table and you feel a momentary pang of guilt at not helping them. But they’d ushered you out of the room quickly, ignoring your protests and you knew that you’d lost against them when they presented a united front like that.

They didn’t want you to miss your call with Hoseok though, and you knew that it was partially because they wanted you to talk to him on Christmas but also because they were a little sad he hadn’t come over. Despite the fact you’d pointed out that he had his own family to visit and spend Christmas with.

Your parents were just a little bit in love with your boyfriend, which made you really happy. This was your first Christmas as a couple and your anniversary was fast approaching too, but they’d wanted to see him today as well. They’d even bought him a present, which you’d found absolutely heart melting.

But you knew Hoseok, and he would rather die than miss Christmas with his own parents. Especially his own mom. You’d sent him home with presents for his own parents this year; a beautiful handbag for his mom and a set of classic English literature for his dad.

Neither Hoseok nor you had given each other your presents yet. Both of you wanted to actually be with each other when you exchanged gifts, which made you a little antsy because you loved opening presents and were eager to see what your lovely boyfriend had got you.

He’d promised to call at 5pm, and your eyes flicker over to the clock on the wall without you meaning them to. How to Train Your Dragon plays on the large flat screen quietly to itself as you unlock your phone, finger automatically going to Twitter to see what the world was up to on this fine day.

You’ve only been scrolling for a few seconds when suddenly the screen disappears and you’re met with Hoseok’s blindingly beautiful grin as his called ID comes up. Immediately you accept the call and note that it’s a video call.

A whine leaves your mouth automatically as you pout, rolling onto your stomach as you lay the phone out in front of you. “Hobi...I look terrible! You just got a great shot of my double chins and...you look nice!”

Your attention is distracted halfway through, taking in your boyfriend’s wide smile that fills the screen. He looks beautiful, a collared black shirt button up with the top few left open while his dark hair has been styled artfully. Hoseok obviously put some effort into his family’s Christmas day and it makes your heart feel funny as you watch him.

As your words get through to him, you watch with a smile of your own as pink tinges his cheeks and he looks down with a bashful expression. “I...thanks. And you look beautiful. I love your chin...both of them.”

Almost immediately your gasping dramatically, a hand to your chest while your jaw drops open before you laugh at the mischievous look on his face. But his teasing words make you feel warm and soft as you focus on the fact that he’s getting ever more comfortable with you. There had been a time that he would’ve stuttered and tripped over his those words before apologising in case he’d offended you.

“Have you had a good day? Eaten some good food? Opened your presents?” He chuckles at your bombardment of words, tongue licking his lips as he nods happily.

“Yeah, it’s been good. My sister and her husband are here so that’s been nice to see her and get to hang out a bit. My dinner was nice and I liked my presents. They got me that yellow Pikachu N64 I wanted!” He said excitedly, face brightening as he gushed about the retro gaming console enthusiastically. “I don’t know how they knew I wanted it but it’s so cool. Oh...they say thank you for their presents too. Dad already started reading one.”

You bite your lip as you watch the screen lovingly. You’d told them that he’d set his heart on that N64 to add into his console collection and had even found one for them to buy. Totally worth the time and effort given how boyishly happy he was about it. He seemed so much younger like this.

“I’m glad, and my parents liked your gifts too. And that’s so cool! We can play Mario Kart 64 against each other now, it’s the best one,” The words are sincere as he smirks, brow raised. “You know it’s true.”

“Oh yeah? Does that mean you’re still gonna lose?” He teases, giggling and causing the video to shake wildly. You make a sound of indignant protest.

“Excuse you. But I don’t lose. I just choose not to win. It’s boring winning all the time.” You pout, making sure to tilt your head to the side for extra effect as his loud laugh erupts from your phones speaker.

“I’d accept that if you’d actually won against me once. But you haven’t.” He points out through laughs, white teeth chewing on his lip in amusement. You sigh gently and point at the screen.

“I just like to see your face when you win. You get so happy.” Almost immediately, Hoseok’s face darkens as he flushes at the compliment. His eyes dart around, looking for his family to see if they were in earshot and you have to bite your lip hard to stop yourself from laughing.

He was truly adorable.

“Have you had a good Christmas?” Hoseok asks quietly, shifting position until he could lay his head against a sofa cushion and watch you through bright eyes, the screen of his phone reflecting through his glasses.

“Yeah, it’s been good. We only just finished eating really and my parents are cleaning up. I think we’re just going to watch films for the rest of the night, maybe play a board game. My dad’s got some new game he wants to try out so...we’re his willing guinea pigs.” You say quietly, resting your chin on your crossed arms.

Hoseok whines softly, lip pushing out. “I want to play board games.”

It hadn’t taken long to discover that Hoseok and your father had a connection through the nerdiness of board games. Your dad held a monthly board game night and Hoseok had been invited to the last two, making acquaintances with other people who shared his passion.

You’d let him go alone at first, wanting him to get accustomed to these people without you and build up a rapport without having you to hide behind. He’d loved it, and become pretty close to your dad already. Your dad had very much taken Hoseok under his wing and you knew that he’d be pretty sad if you both broke up.

“Oh baby, we can play them when you come over tomorrow. I promise,” You hold up your pinky and bend it repeatedly, watching as he holds up his and repeats the gesture to you. “My parents got me some really nice presents this year. Mom got me this beautiful black peacoat and some leather boots, I can’t wait to wear them!”

Hoseok nods along at all the right points in the conversation as you continue talking, telling him all about what you’d received and how you’d spent your day while he reciprocates quietly. Your parents come through at one point, bending down to wave to him and being thoroughly amused by his shy response.

Despite being friendly with them both, he was still that sweet guy you’d met on your first day at Poppin’ Culture. You hoped that he never really changed, because you loved that Hoseok just as much as you loved the one you got to witness in private.

The conversation lulls and you blink tiredly, the post-food tiredness causing you to want to take a nap desperately. Lethargy runs through your veins and you suddenly wish that Hoseok was there with you, curled up next to you with his body heating your own and the comfortable weight of his arm around you.

“I miss you.” You tell him quietly, the words so soft and gentle that he almost has to strain to hear them. But when they register, you take in the beautiful sight of his tiny smile. Dimples appear in his cheeks and you reach out to gently poke at them on the screen.

“I miss you too. We’ll see each other tomorrow. I can’t wait to see you.” His face lights up slightly as he smiles, his head shifting slightly from its position as he lifts up his own hand to trace his screen. It makes your heart skip slightly and you feel very sappy suddenly.

Maybe it was the wine.

“I love you. You know that? I really love you. And I can’t wait to see you again.” He grins brightly at that, his cheeks tinging pink once more as he nods slowly, his eyes warm as he stares at you.

“I know. I love you too. Happy Christmas baby.” You murmur in response to him, your eyelids feeling heavier than ever and you try to fight it momentarily, not wanting to let your time with him go to waste. But the smells and sounds of Christmas combined with the sound of his quiet breathing through the phone and your food lethargy, lulling you into a sleep.

Hoseok watches you for a few more minutes, his eyes going glassy for a few seconds as he feels an overwhelming amount of love and affection for you as he looks over your sleeping face. It’s not an elegant picture; your mouth is open slightly and your cheek is squished against your arm, yet he can’t think of anyone more beautiful.

His heart squeezes tightly as he thinks over the past year, all the moments he’d experienced with you and the way he’d grown subtly in his relationship with you. He may sound like he was being particularly sappy, but he definitely felt like his life had changed when he’d met you.

You made him want to be a better version of himself; not only for you but for himself too. And he couldn’t ever thank you enough for that. Nor for all the love you give to him, overwhelming him sometimes when his depression hits and tells him he’s not worth it.

“I love you,” He breathes out, so quiet that no one could hear but the conviction behind the words is loud to him. Love was something he had always been wary off. Hoseok wasn’t an open person, and love opened him up to a potential for unbelievable pain.

But it also brought happiness, and he’d never been happier than with you. He hoped desperately that this would be the first Christmas that you would both share of many, because he was pretty sure that he could see the rest of his life with you.

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #btssunshineclub #btscreatorsnet #hoseok fluff #j hope fluff #hobi fluff #bts fluff #hoseok drabble #bts drabble #hobi drabble #j hope drabble #hoseok christmas #peppermint hoseok

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bgn846 · 3 years

Text

The Niflheim Experiment Chapter 5

After five hours in the car Gladio was about to go crazy. He needed a break, everyone had been taking power naps, but sleeping in a cramped car was not comfortable. Ravus had not relinquished his driving seat since the episode at the abandoned farm house. Content to stare ahead and ignore all of them, Ravus drove on. Spacing out as the trees flew by, Gladio didn’t do much, until a small green sign caught his attention in the distance. When they got close enough to read it he was barely able to contain his excitement. It said one thing, Insomnia 60 MI.

“Okay time to switch.” Aranea announced.

“I will be driving through to the city.” Ravus replied sternly.

“Do you want to draw attention on purpose?” She sighed. “Switch with Loqi.”

“Why would me driving draw attention?”

Groaning loudly Aranea leaned over the console and stared at Ravus, even though he didn’t look back. “You have snow white hair, and you aren’t old. You scowl at everything, and your eyes are freaky when you look directly into them.”

“There is nothing wrong with my eyes!” Ravus shot back.

“Sure,” Aranea drawled out, “care to explain why one of them seems to be a different color than the other?”

“I was born like that,” he huffed.

“Well, that’s great, but you shouldn’t be the first person someone has to talk to if we get pulled over.”

“Why exactly is Loqi better?”

“He’s blond and not whatever white witch color you’ve got going. He also knows how to smile.” She finished leaning back into her seat.

When Ravus pulled off to the side Gladio was shocked. Luna remained silent during the exchange; it seemed she was still pissed at her brother for his behavior earlier. Taking the opportunity to stretch Gladio carefully got out of the car. Everyone else had the same idea and lolled about, not talking. They could wander off unlike Gladio, who still needed something to lean on otherwise he’d fall over.

Boots scraping across the dirt drew his attention as Gladio pondered the idea of driving the car himself. He could operate one in his current condition, though he was a little worried he might fall asleep staring at the dashed lines on the road whizzing by. Deciding that was a bad idea he turned to who had approached.

“I’m not sure whether to be grateful or upset,” Ravus sighed, “no one is talking to me.”

“I’ll still talk to you.” Gladio offered with a small shrug.

Ravus hummed and took a deep breath. “When do you think you’ll have a moment to discuss our conversation with Luna?”

Gladio faltered, he wanted to talk with Luna, only without the others listening. “I was sorta wanting to talk to her in private.”

“I can understand that. Anything to keep Aranea and Loqi from offering their two cents would be most beneficial.”

“Are you alright with Loqi driving? You’re not gonna make a stink are you?” Gladio asked with worry.

Curling his lips Ravus looked put out. “Aranea makes a valid argument as to why I shouldn’t be behind the wheel. I’m still sitting up front though, just in case.” He added with an air of authority.

Gladio was about to add more when Luna and Aranea walked over. Luna hopped into the backseat and waited in the middle patiently. “Guess that’s my cue to become one with the side of the door again.” Gladio weakly announced. True to Ravus’ word, he did indeed sit in the front passenger seat. Aranea had tried to make an argument about why it should be her, but one deathly glare from Ravus and she gave up. She was obviously tired and didn’t want to deal with his antics.

Loqi drove well and kept quiet as they inched closer to insomnia. Luna had fallen asleep on Gladio’s shoulder and seemed peaceful enough. When the wall appeared ahead of them in the distance Loqi finally broke his silence.

“How are we going to get through this? I mean do we need papers, are we on vacation?”

“We’re going to a friend’s wedding.” Ravus offered succinctly.

“Who’s?!” Loqi blurted.

“It’s the best explanation for our odd parings. Brother and sister, an aunt, a bratty nephew, and a 3rd cousin simply traveling together.”

“Who’s the bratty nephew?” Aranea asked with curiosity.

“Loqi of course,” announced Ravus with little preamble. “Gladio is the only dark haired person among us, so he can’t be directly from the family.”

Gladio had his mouth open to join in, but decided against it. Things were already strange enough. For once no one disagreed, and when Loqi slowed down to talk with the guard he spun a perfectly believable story. It looked like it was working until the man turned and went back into the guard hut. The imposing gate in front of them remained closed.

“What’s going on?” Loqi asked.

“I dunno if they’ll let us in without ID’s.” Gladio lamented.

“If you say who you are then the chances of us getting sold out by the traitor become that much greater,” huffed Aranea.

“It might be a chance we have to take; otherwise we’ll be stuck out here.”

“How long is the drive to the citadel from the gate?” Loqi pondered.

“Nearly thirty minutes, if there’s no traffic.”

“Shit, the dude’s coming back, everybody shut up!” Loqi ordered.

They all listened as the guard explained that proper ID was required to enter the city, plus verification from the person they were visiting. Thinking fast Gladio leaned forward to try and see the man through the window. “I’m sorry we messed up the process sir,” he began humbly, “is there any chance we can call our uncle and have you speak with him?”

The guard frowned and was clearly debating the idea. “I still need to see ID from you all,” he announced. “Call your uncle and let me speak with him while you gather your documents.”

Before Gladio could reply a phone was thrust in his hand. Aranea stared at him with worry and Ravus, who’s phone he was currently holding, merely looked bored. Licking his lips he held it out briefly for Ravus to unlock so he could dial. Praying that someone would answer Gladio let the phone ring longer than normal. Right as he was about to give up the line connected.

“Hello?” Came the pleasant response.

Hoping he could convey enough details in a short period of time Gladio launched into his speech. “Hey Uncle Jared! It’s your nephew Gladio.” He could hear the sudden gasp on the other end and pushed forward ignoring it. “We’re all stuck at the wall trying to get in for the wedding! Do you think you could talk to the guard and explain the situation? I mean I would hate to miss the opportunity to surprise Iris on her big day, just cause we couldn’t make it to the venue!”

Gladio waited with baited breath, hoping that Jared wouldn’t launch into a million and one questions. Thankfully the man simply uttered a weak affirmation and went silent. Leaning forward once again Gladio handed the phone off to the guard. They all watched as he ambled off a few feet away to talk.

“Do you all have ID?” Gladio asked quickly.

“Yeah I had Loqi make us all fake ones right before we left.”

“Luna too?” Gladio queried as he watched Aranea go wide eyed for a moment and shake her head.

“I’ve got one for my sister.” Ravus interjected.

“Why the h--.”

“We can’t waste time with that right now,” Gladio hastily replied, “I don’t have an ID!”

“You don’t carry one around with you in your wallet?” Aranea frowned, “That’s weird.”

“I don’t have my wallet!” Gladio all but shouted as he warily watched the guard, who was still talking to Jared.

Aranea went to response but suddenly looked rather guilty. “Yeah, sorry about that, you do have your wallet. It’s been in the trunk the whole time.” Gladio didn’t have time to respond as Aranea quickly launched into another round of discussion. “We also made you a fake ID as well; there is no point in using your real one now. That guard will call it in immediately.”

The flurry of activity that came next left Gladio in shock. He had no idea what Jared had told the man as the phone had been handed back, already disconnected. Their ID’s were reviewed and the contents of the trunk were checked. After five minutes the heavy metal gate was opened and they were waved through.

“Should I call him back?”

“His phone was probably tapped.” Loqi supplied. “I wouldn’t”

“Who was that anyway?” Luna piped in with curiosity.

“Jared, our housekeeper. What if he calls back, should I answer?”

“No!” Loqi interjected quickly. “Though, why did you call him of all people?”

“I can’t call my dad or anyone else at the citadel they’d be overheard talking. I thought maybe Jared might have a little more privacy at the house. I’m also hoping he only tells my dad I called. That might help us when we arrive.”

As they continued on, the wooded area near the wall gradually faded out to reveal the city. The people and traffic increased as they neared the city center. Unable to keep quiet for any longer Gladio blurted what was on his mind. “How did we get through with all your weapons?”

This time it was Luna who spoke up. “They retrofitted the car before we left, to hide them in the undercarriage. You were sleeping so you didn’t notice.”

“We may need to retrieve them before we reach the citadel,” Ravus announced. “That phone call had to have alerted someone to our presence in the city, even if this Jared only alerted your father.”

“It’ll be damn near impossible to get into the citadel if we show up visibly armed!” Gladio huffed as he leaned back into the seat. “Shouldn’t we come up with a plan to get inside first?”

Aranea spoke up before the others could respond. “We risk the traitor moving first so we have to act now and see how far we get.”

“This is stupid, I’ll get taken away to the doctor’s and you’ll all get locked up, except Luna,” sighed Gladio in frustration. “I thought you all had this worked out?” He fumed.

“We do have it worked out!” Ravus shouted. “We knew it would be trouble trying to gain entry so the best choice was to show up unexpected.”

“Unexpected is one thing,” Gladio snarled, “uncoordinated is quite another.”

“Can we stop fighting?” Luna begged. “Gladio please, they’ve been trying to work things out, trust me. You’ve been passed out for most, if not all of the conversations.”

“Didn’t you all think that it might be helpful to get an insider opinion? Nobody believed I have anything of value to add?”

“There wasn��t time!” Ravus enthused as he briefly turned to face him. “Gladio, time is not on our side, you must know this. The traitor has to know what we are up to and now their suspicions have been confirmed.”

“You don’t know that! Jared’s phone might not have been tapped.”

“Come on big guy, you know that isn’t how it works. Think ahead.” Loqi quipped.

“So we seriously have no other choice but to go driving up to the gate?”

“The traitor will act, no matter what we do.” Ravus added solemnly. “It’s best we make an appearance and work to shed light on the truth of the matter.”

“If we’re going into a trap I still don’t see why I can’t call my dad.”

“What if the traitor acts and makes an attempt on the king all because we called ahead.”

“You didn’t care about Regis yesterday I don’t see why you’re so concerned now.” Gladio grumbled.

Ravus growled in response and hit the side of the door with his fist. “Pull over! We’re dropping Gladio off. Then you can call whomever you like.”

“No!” Luna shouted. “That’s not fair! If you leave him I’m staying with Gladio.”

“Like hell you are!” Ravus yelled. “I didn’t risk everything just to leave you behind on the six damned street!”

The car fell into silence after Ravus’ outburst. Loqi even seemed startled by the turn of events, and simply drove on with his hands white knuckled on the steering wheel. Gladio was paying attention to the route and was surprised when Loqi kept making all the correct turns to get them to the citadel. Maybe they had planned something while he’d been recovering.

Now, all he wanted to do was get away from them all and see his family. The tension had reached an all-time high and Gladio didn’t know what would happen when they reached the main gate.

“I want my pole arm.” Aranea firmly announced once the towers of citadel came into view.

“How are you going to hide it inside the vehicle?” Gladio asked with worry.

“It breaks down, I’ll leave it on the floor boards until I need it.”

That didn’t sound very promising. Aranea was already planning on fighting. Gladio couldn’t do anything to stop her; he still had no strength and was too weak to access the armiger. Choosing to stay silent he sank further into the seat and started to fret.

No one else offered any comments or arguments so Loqi pulled over into a nearly empty parking lot after a minute. He put the car in park and waited as Aranea removed their weapons from underneath. Ravus got out and retrieved his sword. It fit neatly in between the seat and center console. Aranea true to her word dismantled her weapon and placed it on the floor boards. Once everyone was back inside and the doors were all slammed shut Loqi drove off again. Gladio could feel his heart hammering as they approached the citadel. What had seemed like an impossible dream was becoming reality. However, the outcome wasn’t guaranteed and he was getting scared that something truly horrible might happen.

The looming shadow of the building soon engulfed the car as they got closer. Loqi somehow knew to avoid the main gate and instead went to the service entrance. Luna had been correct, they’d been planning ahead. Gladio didn’t realize he was shaking until the car turned down the access road. Soon there would be no turning back.

Loqi already had the window rolled down when he drove up. Leaning down to catch a glimpse of the guard revealed Gladio didn’t know him. That was either going to be a blessing or a curse. Before Gladio could register what was happening Loqi had begun talking to the man.

“We demand an audience with the king. We are seeking asylum from Niflheim. Please inform his majesty that we are traveling with the prince’s shield Gladiolus Amicitia.” Loqi moved slightly and indicated behind him in the back seat.

The guard leaned down and blinked slowly. “ID’s please.” He croaked out after a second.

Gladio could tell from Ravus’ shocked expression that they weren’t expecting that response. Loqi cleared his throat and clumsily went to grab the stack of documents they’d already compiled from the check point at the wall. The guard took them and disappeared into this little hut.

“There is no way in hell they are gonna just open the gate for us.” Loqi breathed out tersely.

“What if they do? Then what?” Gladio asked. He knew there was a second gate to get through after this one. The security system in place included a moat of sorts around the perimeter. Two tall fences with barbed wire atop running alongside each other. The middle section had a single lane access road. This was their first obstacle.

Aranea answered after a beat, “you tell them we rescued you and not to kill us.”

“I don’t know if tha --.”

“Shut up he’s coming back!” Ravus hissed.

The guard came up and handed the documents back. “You’ve been cleared to go through, please wait at the second gate for an escort.” The man said nothing further and simply walked away as the heavy metal door in front of them suddenly began ratcheting open.

“Do I go in?” Loqi asked quietly. “Once this gate closes behind us escape becomes exponentially harder.”

“We can’t very well drive away now Loqi,” Ravus grumbled. “The next gate is right there anyway, let’s go see if they will let us in.”

“Fine.” Loqi replied with a frown. The car slowly crawled forward and jostled as it went over the speed bump at the gate. “Shit, they have the traffic spikes installed under here. I can’t go back even if I tried, the tires would pop.”

“Just drive forward and stop panicking.” Aranea ordered.

“I’m not panicking!” Loqi hissed. “I’m merely working to plan our escape should it be needed. They’ve even got concrete barriers up on either side.”

“Not everywhere,” Luna offered as she pointed to a missing section on their right.”

“Something’s wrong,” announced Ravus. “Where are the other guards, I don’t see any other people at this next gate.”

“They said there would be an escort though,” Luna commented with concern. “Why would he lie?”

“If it was a trap.” Aranea groaned.

Loqi suddenly became very animated. “No, no, no it can’t be!” He uttered in shock. “That can’t be true. There is no way that asshole is him.”

“What are you going on about?” Ravus insisted as he leaned over to stare out the window at what Loqi was looking at.

“Gladio! How far does this no man’s land between the gates stretch?!” Loqi asked hurriedly.

“Up to the main gate about 800 yards away, why?” Gladio didn’t get an answer as Loqi violently threw the car into reverse. They were all thrown forward as he gunned the engine. “What are you doing?!” Gladio shouted.

“I saw him!” Loqi screamed. “The other fucking bad guy, I fucking saw him!” He was frantic as he maneuvered the car away from the gate house.

“We can’t go back! The spikes will wreck the tires.” Aranea yelled.

“I’m not going straight back!” Loqi spit out as he turned sharply to fit in between gap in the barriers Luna had noticed earlier.

Gladio was about to tell him he was crazy when movement behind the guard tower caught his attention. The hulking figure of the captain of the guard soon came into view. “That’s captain Drautos he’s a good guy!” tried Gladio as he held onto the seat.

“He’s a captain?!” Loqi wailed, “Dear six no wonder you all didn’t notice.”

“He’s not a bad guy!” Gladio yelled again.

“That’s Glauca! He’s the ultimate bad guy!”

“Guys they have a car and are chasing us!” Aranea exclaimed with wide eyes while pointing out the window.

Loqi hadn’t noticed since he was facing the wrong way to drive. He turned and yelled loudly. The car jerked as he worked to maintain control. Spinning around once more he began driving faster. “We need to get the hell outta here, he’s gonna murder us all.”

“How do you know it’s him?!” Ravus asked as he worked his sword out from in between the seat.

“I know I saw him once talking to the emperor!” Loqi breathed out in a rush. “It was an accident, he had his helmet off, and it didn’t click until I saw him now. But that’s not important right now guys! Help me get outta here!”

Gladio was thinking fast, it’d been a long time since he’d been out on this side of the citadel. The next gate Loqi was speedily approaching would have the same traffic spikes. Maybe if they got into the main grounds they could get to the king before Drautos got to them. He was about to offer up the idea when a blue flash off to the side caught his attention.

It was actually two blue flashes, one slightly behind the other. Gladio recognized the first blue blur as the slightly hunched form of his friend. The crown prince of Lucis was currently warping like a madman towards their car.

“Aranea open your door!” Gladio demanded.

“Wha?”

“Just do it!!” He yelled.

Thankfully she wrenched the door open just in time. The prince had managed to clear the fence and was now next to the car. Gladio could see him struggling to keep up. Consecutive warps were exhausting and he was surprised Noct was still able to stay with them. Leaning back out of the way proved the right choice as a sword came whizzing by his head as second later.

The overwhelming surge of emotion that hit Gladio next was surreal. There, trembling in his arms and sprawled across the seat was Noct, in the flesh and blood. Without a second thought he hugged him fiercely. The prince wasn’t able to communicate clearly but he at least was able to hug back.

“Th--thought you were dead!” Noct managed to gasp in between breaths as he rested limply in Gladio’s arms.

“I’m okay.” He choked out. The heartfelt moment was immediately shattered when Ravus shouted a frantic warning. Gladio barely had time to react when the car swerved violently and slammed into something. Holding onto Noct with one arm, he reached out and hugged Luna close with the other. Gladio was disoriented and could only do what he knew best.

Shield.

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#ffxv #fanfic #gladio

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maandags · 4 years

Text

Eidolon (Angel!Keith x Demon!reader) {part v}

*goes into hiding for 23455 years*

– – –

Summary: Keith is an angel, and he’s completed mission after mission for the Upper Hand, the organisation controlling all of the Above. He’s only failed a mission once: when he was assigned to kill you, a surprisingly charismatic demon. He roamed Earth–Middle Ground–for years before he was caught by the Upper Hand again, and things quickly go south.

Genre: angst YEEEET

Word count: 6.2K

Notes: masterlist - {previous} - {next} -- me: *doesn't update for 67 years* *updates* *doesn't update for 67 ye

– – –

And when I fall to rise

with stardust in my eyes

In the backbone of night, I’m combustible

~ King of The Clouds, Panic! At The Disco

– – –

“I got you caramel popcorn.”

You look up from where you’re tying your boots and raise an eyebrow. “Beg your pardon?”

A plastic box filled with the sticky treats lands on the couch next to you. “Caramel popcorn. You like it, right?” Keith runs a hand through his hair and plops down too, giving a small wince. He’s trying very hard to hide the fact that he’s still feeling pretty beat up, but he’s not very good at it. Or maybe you’re just very skilled at reading him.

You cautiously take the box, pop off the lid and pluck one grain from its siblings. “I do like it.” With a flourish, you stick it in your mouth and smile at the sweet taste. “How’d you know?”

Keith looks down. “You probably mentioned it while I was… out.”

Your fingers, halfway down the box already, freeze. “Say what now?”

He shrugs stiffly, the shirt draped over his lanky frame only barely moving with him. He’s lost so much weight while he was sick, and it’s affected him more than he cares to show. He still tires easily, needs a lot of sleep. He gets nauseous faster, and gets dizzy when he stands up too abruptly. Over the past few days he’s been getting better, staying up with longer intervals between naps every time but he still isn’t quite back to normal.

And it’s bothering him. You can tell it’s bothering him. He tries to help you in any way he can, though those aren’t many. You’ve had him buy groceries a few times so you could come straight home from work–but that was often quite late in the evening, and you right now you’re just about to leave for work.

“I keep getting these flashes of memories that aren’t mine. And–well–you’re the only person I’ve talked to for about two weeks, so I figured they were yours.” He gives a nervous laugh. “Well, practically the only person. I’m guessing it wasn’t the grocer who leaked some of his memories into my brain.”

“No. ‘Cause that would be weird,” you say, carefully removing your hand from the popcorn and placing the bucket on the low coffee table in front of you. Suddenly you feel cold again.

“Look,” he starts, and you firmly keep your eyes on the bowl of popcorn, not wanting to meet his, “I don’t know what you did or who you went to for whatever it is that cured me. But I do know that you saved my life, and I’ll forever be in your debt for that.”

“Keith–”

“No, seriously. I don’t need to know everything. That’s completely fine. But I don’t want you to get hurt because you were trying to help me.” And he sounds so sincere, like he means every word, and you look away and purse your lips and tug at your shoelaces because he’s really not making things easy for you.

Whenever you think you finally have your thoughts out in a row, Keith swoops in and says a line like that one and makes everything foggy again. He could have drop-kicked you in the stomach and you would be less confused. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You wonder if he’s doing it on purpose–if he knows you’ve been tasked with a mission that’s nothing short of impossible.

Not impossible in the literal sense of the word. In fact, it would hardly be a challenge at all; Keith’s still weakened and even without your knives you could overpower him in half a second. No, the impossibility of the task lies in a more complicated and nuanced territory: your morals. Your feelings towards him, to be exact, and how much you can ignore them. If you even want to ignore them, and up til now that’s not looking very likely a possibility.

The portal pass Prince Lotor gave you sits untouched in a locked drawer in your nightstand. At night, when the only sound filling the air is the nightlife of the city, you can feel it pulsing beside you, beckoning to be used. It’s tempting you, whispering for your touch, begging to return home. As far as you know, portal passes don’t have expiration dates, but you’re still hoping that the call will eventually weaken until you don’t even notice it anymore.

No, giving Keith up to the Below isn’t an option. But he’s growing stronger every day, and at one point he’s going to leave. He’ll leave, and you won’t be there to protect him anymore, and that means he’ll be fair game for any Bounty out there who caught word of the prize his capture will grant.

And really, you just want him to stay.

You want him to stay because your life has been infinitely more interesting since he showed up. You want him to stay because you took care of him for a week while he was dying, and you’re the reason he’s here, alive, in the first place. You want him to stay because you’ve grown to like him–and because he understands you in a way no one else can.

“I’m not hurt,” you assure him. Your fingers ghost over his briefly before you pull them back to your lap. “I won’t get hurt. I promise.” He gives a tentative smile and you zip your hoodie up over your t-shirt. “Let’s focus first on getting you all healed up, all right?”

“I’m fine!”

“Keith, you tripped over your own shoelace and immediately knocked yourself out. You almost threw up after going out onto the rooftop.” You tug a soft hat over your ears and, after a small moment of hesitation, grab a last small handful of caramel popcorn and cradle them in your palm. They really are good. “I’ll be back this afternoon. If anything’s wrong, call. I might not pick up right away but I’ll call back.”

He sighs, tugs at a strand of dark hair. “Okay. Bye.”

You snatch up your keys and open the door. “Take a nap,” you smile over your shoulder. You don’t stay to see his reaction.

– – –

The day goes by as most work days go by, and you huff out a breath when you sink onto a chair around lunchtime. “I’m taking my break,” you tell Emmie–the real Emmie–and she nods. It had been pretty weird to see her and the others for the first time after the whole Bountyhunter fiasco. You were pretty sure none of them noticed how you stiffened when they’d greeted you first thing in the morning, and even if they had they would probably just think you had a rough day or something.

Your phone buzzes and you jump. Before picking up, you glance at the caller ID. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Oh, did I get it right? I always forget when you have your lunch break,” Allura says.

“You got it right. I’ve literally just sat down.”

“Fabulous. It’s the hospital, you know. Messes with your perception of time.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I wouldn’t know.”

“Nah, you wouldn’t.”

You shake your head, but a smile tugs at the ends of your lips. “Did you just want to chat or did you need anything?”

“Nah, I just wanted to chat. We haven’t talked in ages! And also you won’t tell me what you’re doing or what’s going on or who is staying in your apartment… you know. Breezy stuff.” Her tone is light, but you can tell she’s a little pissed at you for ghosting her, and you honestly can’t blame her.

“Allura… I’m really sorry about that. My life’s just been really messy for the last two weeks or so. I’m working on it, I promise.”

She sighs, and you imagine the way her lips purse as she glares out into the distance. “You know,” she says suddenly, “I think I’ve been a pretty good friend so far.”

It takes you aback, and you choke out a startled laugh. “You have been. I mean, you are. You’re the best.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Maybe I could help.”

You lick your lips, lightly kicking at an empty cardboard box on the floor. “It’s hard to explain. I–it’s–it’s complicated.”

“Right.”

“Listen, I want to explain it. I do. You deserve to know what’s going on, but… I’m afraid of what you’ll think if I do tell you. And I’m afraid–” You only just manage to cut yourself off and swallow the words about to tip from your tongue. You let your head fall back. “Okay. What if we meet up tonight? After work? And I’ll explain what I can, okay?”

She’s silent for a moment, then says, “Fine. Okay.”

Silently, you let out a breath you’d been holding. “All right. Uh, how about the park? Let’s say half past eight?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You switch your phone to your other ear. “So, uh, see you then? I guess?”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye,” you say, but she’s already hung up. You growl, squeezing your eyes shut and raking a hand through your hair before rubbing your temples. “Fuck.”

Is this whole ordeal worth jeopardising your friendship with Allura? No. But then again, how much of a choice do you really have? What are you going to tell her? Oh yeah, I’m actually demon, and I kind of saved an angel that I then later learned is on the lam so now I’m harboring a fugitive. It just doesn’t ring very well.

But you’re going to have to tell her something. She’s starting to get suspicious–she has every reason to. Maybe you’ll just have to improvise a bit.

A glance at your watch tells you that your break ends in ten minutes, and you haven’t even had your lunch yet. You stand up and make your way to the snack dispenser, logging in a coin and, with a fair amount of shaking and punching the already-battered sides of the machine, plucking out a pack of raisins and a chocolate granola bar. Not much of a lunch, but oh well. Keith would have your head if he knew these were your only nutrients of the day.

Then you shake your head and frown. Since when do you care what Keith thinks?

As you nibble on the granola bar, you contemplate your phone that you laid on the coffee table in front of you. Part of you wants to call your home phone. Just to see how Keith’s doing. What he’s been up to (in the whole five hours that you haven’t seen him). Stupid, you tell yourself. Stop it. He’s fine. He’s a grown angel, for Hell’s sake. He can take care of himself.

Really, you just want to hear his voice. It’s comforting. He has a nice voice.

But you mentally scold yourself. Just because you decided you won’t turn him in doesn’t give you an excuse to get all cuddly with him. So you lick the last of the chocolate from your fingers, straighten your blue work shirt and stuff your phone in your back pocket. Tony allows phones in pockets as long as they’re switched off, so you make sure you do just that before you push the door open and resume your shift.

“Keith?” You shout his name before you even properly entered your apartment, and you’re greeted with an irritated hum from where he’s half passed out on the sofa. “Have you just been sleeping the entire day?”

“Hm.”

“Good for you. Wish I could get more than four hours’ sleep a night.”

He cracks open an eye. “You only get four hours’ sleep a night?” Oh. Not as unconscious as you thought.

“No, no,” you quickly lie, “nah, I was exaggerating. I get plenty of sleep. Don’t worry.” You kick off your shoes and drop your keys in their little box. “But you sleeping is good. It means you’ll feel better soon.”

“Hey, hey,” he says, suppressing a yawn and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “don’t change the subject.”

“Keith. I told you I’m fine. Drop it.”

“No.”

You raise an eyebrow.

He looks at you, squinting with fatigue, but his eyes are determined and glint. “You look like crap. You’ve been working your ass off when you look like you can barely stand on your feet. I didn’t want to say anything because–well–I figured it wasn’t my place to tell you you should rest,” he adds, a bit awkwardly, but voice still firm.

“It’s not,” you say, eyebrow still raised and feeling your shoulders stiffen with ever word falling from his lips.

“But you should. Rest, I mean. I don’t know why you won’t take care of yourself, but I don’t want–” He catches himself before the end of his sentence, and when you narrow your eyes you think you can spot a faint blush dotting his cheeks. “Anyway. Just… be careful, okay?”

“Sure.” For some reason, it’s easier to be curt when he’s worrying about you instead of the other way around. Though you don’t think you’ll actually stop being worried about him until he’s a hundred percent back to normal, but him reaching out and voicing his concerns about you has your emotional walls immediately shoot up.

Up until now, you hadn’t realised how much you’d started to let them down.

You grab a cup and fill it with water, leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen as you gulp it down. Keith’s gaze is still fixed on you, and you pointedly direct yours at the floor.

“Y/N–”

“Keith. Drop it. Seriously.” You set the empty cup down on the kitchen table, maybe a bit more forcefully than necessary. “I’m actually going out tonight.”

He frowns, and again there’s that flash of concern that has you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I’m just meeting up with a friend. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but you don’t have to wait up for me if you want to go to sleep early. God,” you add with a scoff when he purses his lips, “don’t look so disapproving. What are you, my dad?”

“Y/N–”

“I’m going out.” Your voice is quiet but icy, and you can see Keith knows he won’t change your mind.

He closes his eyes briefly. “At least eat something before you go.”

“I’ll get takeout on the way or something.” You turn on your heel and, after a split second of internal debate you pull your scarf from its place on the coat hanger and wrap it around your face. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

You don’t even wait to hear his answer.

Allura’s waiting for you on your bench, her purple scarf pulled around her cheeks and her hair piled atop her head in a bun. She looks up when you approach, then shifts a little to the side to make room for you. Her eyes are narrowed, though you suspect that’s due more to a mix of fatigue and a protection against the cold wind than it is anger against you.

“Hey,” you say, sinking onto the bench next to her.

“Hi.” She crosses her ankles and looks away briefly before focusing her gaze on you again. Her brows furrow slightly. “What happened to you?”

You freeze. “What?”

“I mean, why do you look like that?”

A hesitant laugh rolls past your lips. “Like what?”

“Like you haven’t slept, eaten, or seen sunlight in a week. No, don’t even–hey, look at me.” She grabs your wrists and forces you to look her in the eye. With every second she scrutinises your face the worry in hers grows, and she reaches out to tentatively touch the tender skin beneath your eyes. “Have you been overworking yourself?”

“No,” you say, deflated, though it comes out more like a whine.

“How much sleep have you been getting a night?”

“Allura, stop it. I feel fine.” It’s a lie, and she doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t need you fretting over me as well.”

She leans back. “What do you mean, as well?” Her lips purse and she takes your hands in hers. “Y/N, what is going on?”

You sigh, cursing yourself and this entire situation internally. You have to think very carefully about what you’re going to say and how you’re going to say it. You bite your lip, and after a moment of silence you say, “Remember when I called you a while ago about that fever?”

She nods slowly. “And I told you to sweat it out, and you said that wouldn’t work, so I told you to go find my uncle.”

“Right. Well, I did,” you sigh, thinking back to the strange excursion that was the trip by Coran’s shop.

“And did you find what you were looking for?”

“I did.” She raises an eyebrow, rolling her hand in a Go on gesture. You exhale, fumbling with the words in your mind before speaking them out loud. “It wasn’t for research purposes. I needed it because… a friend of mine–well, he’s more like an acquaintance, really–was very sick. And no, I couldn’t take him to the hospital,” you add quickly when she opens her mouth to say something.

She frowns. “Why not?”

You cringe slightly. For some reason, you don’t think He’s not human is going to cut it. “I just couldn’t, okay? Please just–just trust me on this. Listen,” you say, lowering your head into your hands, “there’s some things I really can’t tell you. I just can’t. But I’m trying my best.” Your voice catches and you’re surprised to find your eyes sting. You angrily wipe the forming tears away.

“I’ve known him for a while,” you continue. “But we never really… talked before. Because we come from… different places.” What a way to simplify it.

“So he’s, like… some kind of famous, rich, bourgeois-esque guy? Is that what I’m picking up here?” She’s trying to lighten the mood, you know she is, but the laugh you manage to grit out is bitter anyway.

“That’s one way to put it.”

It’s silent for a while, and the tension that cloaked the air before starts to fade. Allura can be quite hot-headed sometimes, but she doesn’t always manage to stay angry for long–though in this case, she would have every reason to. You’ve been avoiding her, even if you had a good reason.

Then she sighs. “I’m trying to understand, Y/N.” You glance at her, keep your mouth shut. “But it’s hard. And I’m not sure if this is just you being your mystical self, or if there’s something really weird going on, but I don’t like it. At all. Not if this is how it makes you act and feel.” Again she shoots a pointed look at your face. “But you’re asking me to trust you, so that’s what I’ll do.”

Your eyes, that narrowed as you looked down at the ground, snap open and you turn your head around fully to look at her. “Seriously?”

She nods. “Yeah. Seriously. And I don’t like it,” she repeats, shifting to sit on her hands and glaring out into the darkening evening streets, “but I trust you to not do anything stupid. Or, well, anything very stupid.”

And it makes you feel good. A huge weight seems to fall off your shoulders and you breathe a relieved sigh. “Thanks, Allura.”

“Well.” She sits up straight and hooks an arm over the back of the bench, turning fully to you, her mouth curling into a wicked grin. “Now that we worked that out, you’re going to tell me about this guy, because I want to know who you’re risking our friendship for, God damn it.”

Your head tips back. “Allura. Please. Don’t.”

“Nuh-uh-uh,” she tuts. “None of that. You owe me this. Fine, I’ll start easy. What’s his name?”

You slowly roll your head until you’re looking her in the eye. “Keith.”

She nods, grin turning smug. “Where’s he from?”

You flinch. “…Somewhere up north.”

“Ah. Touchy subject?”

“Eh.”

“Fine,” she huffs, “then answer this one. Why would he come to you now if you’ve never even spoken before? You made it sound like he was in serious trouble.”

“He was. And, well… I guess he came to me because he had nowhere else to go.”

Allura hums. Then, “You sound like you care about him.”

You start. “What?”

“You know. You took him into your apartment, you stayed home from work for a week to take care of him, you almost fucked up our friendship for him… that’s not just because you felt sorry for him.” She says it so breezily, the words more a joke by now than anything, but you still wish she hadn’t said them–if only because they ring so true.

“I barely know him,” you protest weakly.

“But you want to. Get to know him, I mean.”

“Fuck, Allura, I wanted to talk, not for you to tell me how to lead my love life,” you groan, sliding along the backrest.

She wiggles her eyebrows. ‘Who said anything about love?”

“Oh my god.” You jump up, dusting off your coat and giving your scarf a vigorous tug. “I’m gonna go now. Again, the coming days–weeks, maybe, I don’t fucking know–might be weird. There’s a bunch of stuff Keith and I need to sort out. I’ll call you eventually, but it might be smart if you kind of stayed out of it? I’d appreciate that. As a personal favour.”

“Uh, sure,” she says, looking equally taken aback and somewhat smug by your sudden flustered and rambly state. “Why’s that?”

“You know. I was already manipulated into thinking you were being tortured to get information out of me, so. I’d rather that doesn’t happen again. You know what, just pretend you don’t know me until I call you, all right?”

She freezes for only a fraction of a second, then scrambles up and grabs your sleeve.“Say what now?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”

“That absolutely is a big fucking deal, Y/N.”

“Figures. I’m really sorry you got sucked into this mess, Allura. You deserve better friends than me.”

Her lips purse, and before you know what’s happening she’s pulled you into a hug. “Please be careful,” she whispers into your shoulder.

You wrap your own arms around her and squeeze. “I’ll try.” Welcome to my shitstorm of a life, you think wryly, then you gently free yourself from her embrace. “I’ll call you when this is all over.”

She nods, and you’re about to walk back to your apartment when something occurs to you. You spin around again, mindlessly rubbing your forearm. “Hey, one last thing.”

“Yeah?”

You bite your lip, hesitate. “Your uncle Coran. He might be able to answer some of your questions. He’s… a special guy. I think he knows more than he lets on.”

Allura gives a small smile, then nods. “I’ll think about it.”

Your living room windows are dark, and that should have been enough to make you suspicious. Keith doesn’t put out the lights until you’re home.

But your mind is still occupied with everything you told–and didn’t tell–Allura, and you’re just feeling good that everything went the way it did. You won’t have to worry about her getting hurt anymore, and the light feeling of maybe everything will be okay after all is the reason you don’t notice anything’s wrong until you turn the keys and open the door to be greeted with darkness.

You freeze. “Keith?” No answer.

Slowly, you flick on the light switch beside you, blinking hard to force your eyes to quickly get used to the light. Nothing. The sofa looks eerily clean and made up. The blanket you gave him sits neatly folded on one armrest. Your heart speeds up, and you make your way over to the kitchen. The fridge’s contents have been rearranged. The tub of caramel popcorn is in the cabinet where you keep your sweets. He’d put it there before leaving. It’s a small gesture, but one so sweet and innocent and final that it makes a fist clench over your heart.

Somehow you sense that this is it; he’s not coming back. This isn’t one of his impromptu errands. He cleaned up after himself, made sure everything looked exactly the way it did before he even set foot in your apartment.

But it doesn’t feel right anymore. It’s empty.

Keith was never much of a presence. He wasn’t loud or brash or in constant need of attention, but he would quietly come sit in the armchair next to you when you were reading on the sofa, or he’d join you at the kitchen table and doodle on a notepad, one foot tucked under his butt and the very tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips. His company made your apartment feel that little more alive.

Made you feel that little more alive.

And it’s not that you can’t handle yourself on your own. You can do that just fine. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy having him in your home. Another presence like you, to remind you that you’re not alone.

And it just feels weird. Why would he leave so suddenly? Without even giving you a warning? Without saying goodbye? It doesn’t make sense, and you sink down onto the sofa, fingers absentmindedly trailing over the fuzzy blanket. The room’s too clean for him to have been kidnapped or murdered; that would have looked way messier than this. No, he went by choice.

It’s late. It’s late, it’s dark, and if Keith really doesn’t want to see you again you don’t stand the slightest chance to find him in the nightly streets.

And yet, half a minute later you find yourself–all the while cursing and scoffing at yourself under your breath–outside once more, narrowing your eyes against the chilly evening wind. You hesitate for a moment, not quite sure of where to go, then you decide to just make your way to the nearest underground station and figure out where you’re headed from there. Keith knows this city, but you know it better.

So that’s how you end up in the underground at half past ten P.M, brain working at a thousand miles per hour, looking for a runaway angel that you know you have a very slim chance of finding. The cart is surprisingly crowded, and you have to crane your neck to find an unoccupied seat. You plop down beside a reading student.

The grind of the track below you makes it hard to think, so you let your head tip against the backrest of the seat and close your eyes with a sigh. A hand comes up to rub your eyelids. “What am I doing,” you whisper to yourself. The student casts you a half-curious look, but wisely doesn’t say anything.

If Keith doesn’t want to be found you doubt you’ll find him–but what if someone else does? What if someone who knows about the price Lotor fixed on Keith’s head finds him and recognises him? He’s in no shape to fight. He can barely stand upright for more than half an hour. He’ll be handed over to the Below, and then… You don’t want to think about what might happen next.

So you have to find him. You don’t know where to start, don’t know if you even can, but you have to at least try.

Your gaze flicks up to the screen where the route is all stippled out. You’re almost halfway, with four more stops to go until the final destination. None of them ring any bells at first, but then one catches your eye. You bite your lip, leaning slightly forward.

It could be. It would make sense.

You could be wrong, of course. But there’s a feeling in your gut. You’re jittery and fidgeting with the buttons on your coat and when the train slowly stops to a halt you’re the first through the doors. Your destination is clear in your head and you round corners without looking, confident that your feet will carry you where you want to go. After all, you’ve walked this route more times than you can count.

The factory is as silent and still as it was the first time you slipped through its broken gates and between its walls. You can hear faint voices coming from a room on the ground floor; laughter, music, chattering. Probably just a private friend get-together. Keith won’t be there.

It feels weird to retrace your steps from that night. The room where your painting still gleams proudly against so many others–an angel and a demon, red wings dripping from their backs. The painting makes your gut twist in a funny way, so you don’t stay very long admiring it. Then there’s the hole in the wall behind it leading to the staircase. You hop through, start climbing the steps at a leisurely pace, keeping as quiet as possible.

Only then do you start to think about what might happen if you do find him.

Up until now, you had only thought about the possibility of not finding him. But what if you do, and he explains why he left and tells you to go away? Or what if he doesn’t want to talk to you at all? Would you be able to let him go that easily?

You almost stop and turn back. Almost. But there’s something about him. Something about him that makes you feel a certain way, and you’d tried to push it down and ignore it but you don’t think you can do that anymore. And with every step you take your heart beats faster until you’re running the last feet up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

You half expect to see him as soon as you walk through the doorway, but of course that doesn’t happen. You slow to a halt, unsure of where to go first. You take a step forward, and the hollow sound echoes in the hallway. You clear your throat before calling out. “Keith?”

Maybe not the smartest move if you were going for discretion, but you threw caution into the wind when you stepped onto the dark top floor. He’ll be here or he won’t, and you’ll figure out what to do then.

Another step, and you peek through the first doorway. “Hello? Keith?” Nothing. You steel yourself. You’ll go by all the rooms. You won’t leave until you’ve combed through the entire floor.

And then you hear him softly say your name behind you, and you whip around. He’s leaning against a doorway, a faint smile tainting his lips, sweet and genuine but a little sad, too, and all you want to do is run to him and wrap him in your arms and press your lips against his–

But you don’t. “Keith. Hey.”

“Hi.”

You’d wanted to be a little less forward, but just the relief of seeing him caused your verbal filter to completely disappear. You step towards him, your hand reaching for him despite him standing too far away. “Why are you here?”

He raises a brow. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“What–I came to find you, obviously,” you scoff, the words coming out sharper than intended. You screw your eyes shut, your shoulders bunching around your ears. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m just–I’m glad I found you. I was worried.”

He looks down, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Right.”

You bite your lip. “Keith.” His eyes meet yours, and you hesitantly close the distance between you until he’s a mere step away. “Why’d you leave?”

A shrug. “Don’t know.”

“Don’t believe you.”

He sighs. “I just–I feel like I’m being a burden. You’re looking more tired and sick every day and I’m just so useless.”

You start, recoiling slightly out of pure shock. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve noticed it, you know.” His jaw sets and his eyes grow cloudy. “How you try and leave the room every time I’m there. Or how you work overtime to make sure you have to spend as little time with me as possible. Or how every smile you give me is forced. They never quite reach your eyes.” His fingers twitch. “But I don’t blame you. I get it.”

You throw a look over his shoulder. The room he chose is empty bar a filthy pillow that looks like it came straight out of the trash and a blanket in the same state. “So you’ll just live here instead.” You kick an old, empty beer can out of the way. “Real homey.”

He shrugs again. Then he shivers, and it’s that small gesture that completely shatters you. Tears form in your eyes. “You wanna know why I did it? Pushed you away?” You don’t wait for an answer. “Because I actually like you way more than I should. And I was scared of what would happen if I let myself get close to you. I still am. But,” you add, nudging his arm, “that doesn’t mean I want you gone or living in a dump like this.”

“So you came to look for me.”

“Yeah.”

Now he smiles, rubbing his eyes. “You found me pretty quickly. That’s rather embarrassing.” With a sigh, he lets himself drop to the floor and props his elbows up on his knees. “Can’t even run away right.”

You scoff, sliding down the wall next to him. “Don’t sound so disappointed. I, for one, am glad I found you.”

His fingers ghost over yours. “Me too.”

And it might just be that you’re very tired because you’ve been on your feet since six A.M, or that you’re so happy and relieved to see him in one piece after running through all the possible horrible scenarios in your head. Whatever the case, you figure that if it isn’t clear now that he’s more to you than just an inconvenient guest, it might never be, so it wouldn’t mean anything if you were to take his hand in yours.

So you take his hand in yours. He stiffens for only a split second, then relaxes. After a while, he whispers, “How’d you know I was here?”

You hollow out your cheeks. “I didn’t. I wasn’t sure, I mean. But… I don’t know. I had a feeling, I guess.” You shoot him a pointed look. “You’re not gonna get sick again, are you? Last time we were here you almost died. I’d like to not have to try and find Coran’s shop again, ‘cause that was a complete disaster last time.”

Keith giggles. “I wasn’t planning to.”

You shove his shoulder with yours. “Moron. Don’t scare me like that again, all right?” The insult is kind of cancelled out by the fact that you’re still holding hands.

“Okay.” He bursts into a coughing fit and you throw him a sideways look, letting go of his hand to awkwardly pat him on the back.

“This is exactly why you need to come home,” you scold softly. “You’re not better yet. Come on.”

He casts you a look, hesitancy painted across his features. You raise your eyebrows slightly. “What?”

But then he shakes his head and pushes himself up again, holding his hand out for you to grab. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

You take it and let him pull you up, and then you’re face to face. Close. Closer than ever before. For a second you’re just standing, holding onto each other’s hands like it’s the only thing tethering you to earth. You want to kiss him. You want to kiss him. Your eyes flick down to his lips, ever so briefly. You want to kiss him.

“Let’s go.” Pulling your hand out of his feels so wrong, but you do it anyway. Reluctantly. You shove your hand in the pocket of your hoodie to hide its trembling. “We’ll take the underground.”

The ride back is not awkward. You wouldn’t call it that, but there is a kind of tension hanging in the air between you and him and you decide that you don’t like it. Another part of you whispers that it’s probably for the better. The tension means you won’t make any rash decisions. It means that you’ll think about the words you say and the things you do, important or not.

Maybe it won’t make a difference in the end. Maybe it will. At the moment it doesn’t really matter, because it’s late and Keith is half asleep in his seat, and you only allow yourself a brief moment to look at him–really look at him, study the little details of his face that would normally be clouded by lines of worry or fatigue. When he sleeps he looks so peaceful, without a care in the word. His skin smooths out. His mouth hangs open ever so slightly. He snores a little. He looks younger and, somehow, free.

But then your stop is announced over the loudspeakers and you startle as the train slowly grinds to a halt. You nudge Keith with your foot. “Wake up.” He groans, blinks a few times before hoisting himself up, softly muttering under his breath.

Your apartment looks exactly as you left it–which is to say, eerily clean and tidy. You pull a face and immediately march over to the sofa, where you shake out the neatly folded blanket and deposit it on a heap in a corner, after which you give the cushions a good shake. Keith stands in the corner of the room, hands in his pockets, a bemused smile on his lips. You crinkle your nose at him. “It felt too… orderly.”

“Because you’re not orderly.”

“That’s right. It didn’t feel like home. Like some unwanted cleaning lady came in and reorganised my entire apartment. I hated it.”

“So you’re mad at me for trying to tidy up your house?”

You roll your eyes. “Not mad. Not about that. If anything, I’m mad because you fucking ran away, but that’s forgiven and forgotten. Look, I’ve made your bed.” You point at the rumpled sofa and try to hide your mounting grin.

Keith shakes his head, laughs, and it’s a sound you will never grow tired of. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

There’s a silence, but this time it’s not awkward in the slightest. The tension’s still there, but along with it is a kind of quiet understanding. A little sad, maybe. A little longing. But it’s something you’ve both accepted as impossible, and at the moment, that’s okay.

Because he’s back. And he’s okay. And really, that’s all that matters.

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