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toohardtoforgetcth · 4 years

Text

Too Hard To Forget

Chapter Eight

5,082 words

A/N: evenin’ angels, pls enjoy - the second-last smol chapter of fluffiness basically but also swearing and sadness and death sorry love y’all

Requested: I added a lil scene at the beginning for anon who wanted a reunion between Parker and Gram, the chapter was already written so I had to tweak it a lil. Hope it turned out okay, anon! thank you for the ask <3

» » » » » »

When Calum woke up the following morning, it took his brain a split second to register that Parker laying in his bed was real and not just a fever dream. His mind played through the events of the night before, his body tingling from all the places Parker had left her mark on him. They hadn’t gone to sleep until past four in the morning, so he wasn’t surprised to read 11:47 on the clock on his bedside table. Calum absently dragged his finger back and forth over Parker’s upper arm, watching goosebumps rise in its wake.

She stirred, blinking her eyes and lifting her head to stare up at him. He smiled down at her. “Mornin’ angel,” he rasped.

“Still the King of waking me up before I’m ready, I see,” she mumbled, smiling sleepily.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he shrugged. “I’ve missed you.”

Parker answered his confession with a press of her lips against his. “Any big plans today?” she asked him.

“Lunch plans with Gram, but other than that, I’m all yours,” he answered. “You can come if you like,” he suggested. “It’s been a while.”

• • • • • •

After a shower and a quick stop at Parker’s to change her clothes, Calum pulled the Charger into Gram’s driveway, cutting the engine.

Parker pushed down the uneasy feeling in her stomach. I’m nervous. Should I be nervous? She asked herself. She wasn’t sure why she felt nervous – the break-up was Calum’s idea, but still she felt weird about showing up uninvited at Grace’s house after sleeping in her grandson’s bed only a few hours after breaking up with her ex-boyfriend. She followed Calum up the steps, standing one step behind him as he knocked twice and pushed the door open.

“Gram?” he called out, shucking off his boots and ushering Parker inside.

“In the kitchen, dear!”

Calum grinned at Parker, guiding her through the kitchen door in front of him. “I found a stray.”

Gram turned around, gasping when she recognized Parker. Her face split into the warmest smile and she rushed over. Parker was surprised at the old woman’s strength, she was hugging her so tightly. “Parker, it’s so good to see you!”

All of Parker’s nerves melted away as she relaxed in Grace’s grip, hugging her back. “I missed you, Grace.”

Grace and Parker chatted over lunch, leaving very little room in the conversation for Calum to join in, which suited him fine – he was just happy to have the two loves of his life in the same room again.

“Calum, dear, I think the tap in my bathroom is leaking again. Could you take a look at it for me?” Gram asked Calum sweetly.

“Sure thing, pretty lady,” he replied as he disappeared into the garage to get some tools.

As soon as he was out of the room, Grace took Parker’s hand. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that you two worked things out,” she beamed.

“We haven’t really talked about it yet," Parker started. “We only talked a little bit yesterday, and it was mostly just catching up,” she admitted.

“There’s lots to catch up on, I’m sure,” Grace winked, and Parker laughed. “But I know you two. There’s nothing in this world that could keep you apart. That boy loves you more than the sun and the stars, and he is never going to let you go.”

“I don’t know, Grace. He was so willing to give up last time. What happens next time when things get hard, and he tries to run away again?” It was a thought that had plagued Parker’s mind since her reunion with Calum, despite his efforts to reassure her that he was wrong and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. She wanted to believe him, but he had hurt her and she didn’t want to go through that again.

Grace wore a sympathetic smile. “I know it must feel scary to let him in again, after what he did,” she squeezed Parker’s hand. “But let me tell you something about Calum. He has been through hell and back in his short life, and he is very good at putting up a barrier between him and other people, so he doesn’t get hurt. He pushes everyone away because it’s easier than fighting a losing battle. You know what happened with his mother, my Lina. She never fought for Calum, and he carries that hurt in his heart every day,” Grace wiped a tear from under her eye before continuing. “He’ll never tell you this himself, so I’ll do it for him – he needs someone like you, Parker. Someone who will fight for him. He deserves all the love in the world and I know you love him. He just needs someone who won’t give up, who won’t abandon him like his mother did. He will make mistakes, and sometimes he’ll try to push you away. I promise you that if you stick with him, and you don’t give up on him, he will give you everything you ever dreamed of. He has so much to offer, and when he opens up, there is no one in this world with a bigger heart. I’m so proud of how much he’s done for himself in the last year, but nothing makes him happier than you do. He just needs to know that he deserves you.”

Parker had tears welling up in her eyes by the end of Grace’s speech. She could have tried harder when Calum left. She called, but she could have done more. She was partly to blame in all this, too. She didn’t fight for him the way she should have. She could see that now, and she promised herself, for Calum, that she would always fight for him.

Parker leaned forward, hugging Grace tightly. “I promise I’ll take care of him,” she whispered.

“I know you will, honey,” Grace smiled. “Welcome home.”

» » » » » »

Parker and Calum were getting ready to head to The Wildflower for one of Calum’s shows, and Parker was sitting on the floor, playing with Duke while she waited for Calum to get dressed. She thought back on her life over the last year, how much had changed. The first time she came over to Calum’s apartment, Duke turned his nose up at her attempt to pet him. Now, he greeted her before Calum when they came inside. She smiled as she thought about how this man had become her home, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

Calum came out of the bedroom, buttoning his shirt. Parker stared at the stripe of skin showing on his chest until he buttoned it all the way, then finally lifted her gaze to his face. Chocolate brown eyes, full lips, dark curls messy but effortless. It annoyed Parker, how little effort he had to put in to look as incredible as he did every day, but her heart swelled with pride at the same time. This man was hers.

“I have something for you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek and pulling a chain out of his pocket. It was simple; silver, with an intricate key pendant hanging on the end. On the back of the key, the letter ‘C’ was engraved.

Parker smiled. It was simple and dainty—exactly something Parker would have picked out for herself. “I love it,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his. “But what’s the occasion?”

“It’s metaphorical, since you don’t actually need a key for my apartment,” he grinned.

Parker just looked at him, puzzled.

Calum rolled his eyes at her lack of understanding—it was adorable. “I want you to move in with me.”

Parker just stared at him, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

Calum chuckled. “Of course I’m serious, love. You wanna?”

Parker threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a series of little kisses to his lips. She pulled back. “Are you really sure, Cal? I drive you crazy.”

Calum laughed. “I love you, angel. I want you with me all the time. Besides, you already stay over most nights. The boys love you, Duke loves you, I can’t think of any reason why you shouldn’t.”

Parker turned, lifting her hair so Calum could fasten the chain around her neck. She turned back to him, beaming. “Okay.”

• • • • • •

When they arrived at the pub, it was quiet; not as busy as it usually was, which gave Calum a good opportunity to play some new music.

“I’ve been working on this new one, think maybe I’ll try it out tonight, if that’s alright,” he spoke into the mic. “Less of you to disappoint,” he laughed lightly, and they laughed, too. These people had become like a little family—he felt so at home here. “It’s called Waste The Night.”

The crowd went wild for his new song. John caught up to Calum as he was packing up his equipment to tell him that he had another steady gig lined up for him at a restaurant on the West end if he wanted it.

It seemed that people were hearing about his music all across town, and Calum was elated. After so many years of feeling like he’d never amount to anything, he could finally say he was living a life he was proud of.

» » » » » »

“Michael, sit still. I can’t do this if you keep flinching.”

Parker was sitting on a stool in front of Michael, applying his makeup to complete his costume. Luke and Sierra, Luke’s new girlfriend, were throwing a Halloween party and Michael had begged Parker to do his makeup, but he had been sitting there for an hour and he was getting antsy.

“You’re getting it in my eyes,” he whined.

“It’s makeup. It’s literally meant to go on your eyes. You’re being a baby,” she rolled her eyes, smiling. She had grown very close to Michael in the time she’d been with Calum. She loved all the boys, but she spent almost as much time with Michael as she did with Calum. It drove him crazy sometimes, but in the end he was just happy his brothers loved Parker as much as he did.

Calum’s life had never been better. He played music for a bunch of different venues around town and the change in scenery kept things interesting, but it always felt like coming home when he played at The Wildflower. He and Parker had been living together for almost a year, and while it had been an adjustment for him at first, as it had just been him and Duke for over five years, his place felt like home with her there.

Parker’s parents seemed to warm up to Calum, too, after realizing that their daughter was head over heels for him and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Calum came into the living room and Parker did a double take at his costume. He was dressed as Danny from Grease—very little effort, considering the only difference from his day-to-day outfit of black boots, jeans and a leather jacket was the styled hair, but he still looked good—like, really good.

“Wow,” Parker breathed, almost forgetting that Michael was sitting there as she shamelessly ogled her boyfriend. “You look amazing.”

Calum gave her a sly grin and winked at her. “Thanks, doll. Where’s your costume?”

Parker looked down at herself, still dressed in lounge shorts and an oversized tee of Calum’s. “I’m not ready yet. I’ve been preoccupied with Michael’s makeup,” she said, gesturing to her handiwork, Michael smiling proudly. He did look amazing. He wore a black and white striped suit, and Parker had dyed his blonde hair neon green for the occasion. His costume was Beetlejuice, but she wanted to do her own less messy version of the classic character, so she did a purple smokey eye and added touches of green to the sides of his face and down his neck. He looked awesome.

The front door opened and Ashton walked in, carrying a backpack full of what was probably an assortment of booze. He was dressed almost identical to Calum—he was supposed to be Kenickie, also from Grease. Parker rolled her eyes at the boys’ complete lack of effort or originality.

Calum made the four of them a drink, Michael’s sitting untouched next to him while Parker finished his face.

“There,” she said finally. “Done.”

Michael stood up and walked over to the mirror on the wall by the front door. “Holy shit, P. I look amazing!” he gasped, a grin splitting his face. He lifted his fingers to inspect his face closer.

“Don’t touch!” Parker shrieked. “It’s not dry yet, you’ll ruin it!”

Michael jumped at her shrill tone, his hand recoiling. “Yes, ma’am,” he teased.

“I’m gonna go get dressed,” she announced, standing and collecting her assortment of special effects makeup from the table next to where Michael was sitting.

The last thing Parker wanted to dress as was Sandy—she felt like the costume was way overdone, but because of Calum’s costume, she decided it would make the most sense. She pulled on a pair of tight leather pants she had borrowed from Jenna, slipped into her red peep-toes, applied a red lip and draped her shoulders with a leather jacket to finish the look.

When she came out of the bedroom, all three of the boys stopped to look at her. Ashton whistled, and Michael’s response of “P, you look hot!” earned him a punch in the gut from Calum.

Calum walked over to her, spinning her around once and admiring her. “You do look hot,” he grinned. “You wanna forget about this party?” he whispered, pressing the softest of kisses to the spot just below her ear. “I could think of a better way to spend the night.”

Parker blushed, but there was no way she was missing out on this party, no matter how good he looked.

• • • • • •

When they arrived at the party, it was already chaos. Some people Parker knew through the boys, but most of them were strangers. Luke pulled Parker in for a hug and took her hand, leading her into the kitchen where he had set up a variation of liquor bottles.

“Take your pick, babe!” he exclaimed excitedly.

The rest of the boys joined them shortly after, where Luke and Parker had already downed three shots each. As Luke was pouring them all another one, Parker noticed Sierra hugging a petite girl at the front door, who had seemingly arrived alone. She was wearing an unmistakable Lydia costume. Parker leaned over to Luke. “Who’s that girl that Sierra is talking to?” she asked curiously.

Luke glanced over to his girlfriend at the door. “Oh, that’s Crystal. One of Sierra’s friends.”

Parker flashed a wry smile, and Luke looked immediately concerned. “Oh, God, I know that look. What are you on about?”

“Oh, nothing,” Parker waved her hand casually. “Just that she happens to be here all by herself, and that she’s wearing the other half to Michael’s costume.”

It seemed Parker was not the only one who noticed the similarity, because the girl’s eyes lit up in recognition as soon as she saw Michael, and she followed Sierra as she made her way back to the group of them in the kitchen. Sierra introduced her to everyone. She was really sweet, and Michael couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“I love your costume!” he said excitedly, taking a sip of his beer.

“Thanks,” she grinned. “Your makeup looks awesome,” she added, “did you do it yourself?”

Michael choked out a laugh. “No,” he shook his head, then turned and pointed at Parker. “Parker did.”

“How come you guys don’t have matching costumes?” Crystal asked curiously.

“Me and Parker?” Michael looked confused, then his face softened as he realized what she meant. “Oh, she’s not my girlfriend,” he shook his head, and Crystal’s face brightened immediately. “More like my sister, honestly. She’s with Cal. I’m flying solo.”

Parker watched their entire interaction with the biggest smile on her face. Michael was the kindest person she knew—it was about time he met someone as sweet as he was.

Calum snapped her out of her distracted staring when he held out his hand in front of her. “Care to dance, angel?”

» » » » » »

Christmas that year was different for Calum. He always spent Christmas Eve with the boys. They usually went out for dinner and had a couple drinks before making their way back to one of their houses to exchange gifts and watch a movie or two. Then on Christmas Day he went over to Gram’s for the afternoon and she made a big dinner for just the two of them.

This year, their circle had grown by four additional people, so it made sense to have a whole celebration with everyone there. They held it on Christmas Eve so the boys could spend Christmas Day with their own families, and everyone gathered at Gram’s house.

Gram was delighted to have a whole house full of people to cook for, since the last time she had a big holiday party was when Calum’s granddad was still alive. The boys would come over periodically for dinner, but that didn’t really count. All the girls—Crystal, Sierra, Ashton’s girlfriend KayKay and Parker helped Gram in the kitchen while the boys goofed off and relaxed by the Christmas tree. When they all sat down for dinner, Gram at the head of the table, Calum looked around at all his friends, his girl, and he was so thankful that he could call these people his family. After a lifetime spent hating the world and everyone in it, his life was good, and Calum was happy.

» » » » » »

Calum was at home working on some new music at the end of February when his phone rang. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen before Calum answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, I’m looking for Mr. Calum Hood,” replied a voice that Calum didn’t recognize.

“This is Calum.”

“Hello, Mr. Hood, this is Dr. Schilling from Blue Cross Regional Hospital. I’m calling regarding Grace Hood.”

Calum’s mouth went dry as his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

“Mr. Hood, I’m afraid we need you to come down right away.”

Calum’s hands were shaking, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “Is she—what happened?” he managed to reply, voice cracking.

Parker came down the hall from the bedroom, immediately noticing Calum’s rigid posture.

“It’s difficult to discuss over the phone—”

“What happened!” he demanded, voice rising to an angry yell.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hood. She passed away.”

The phone slipped out of his hand, clattering to the floor. Calum slid to his knees, fingers tugging on his hair as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He didn’t make a sound. He couldn’t breathe—he felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs, gasping for air as he tried to breathe in deeply. Parker ran over, dropping to her knees in front of him and putting her hands on his shoulders.

“Calum! Calum, what happened?”

He said nothing as she shook him frantically, trying to get him to answer.

Finally, he looked up at her, his eyes glassy and tears pooling in his eyes and falling down his cheeks. “She’s gone,” he choked out.

“No,” Parker leaned back, shaking her head. Her eyes filled with tears, too. “No, she can’t be.”

“She's gone,” he whispered again.

And then his body shook violently, tears escaping as he sobbed, and Parker cried too, holding him, trying to comfort him while he mourned the loss of the only family he had. Grace was the most important thing in his life, and just like that, she was gone. Parker’s heart shattered into a million pieces as she watched the man she loved crumble in front of her.

• • • • • •

When he was sure he had no tears left to cry, Calum stood, eyes red and swollen, the sleeves of his sweater soaked with tears. “We need to go,” he said, voice thick and scratchy from crying. “We have to go to the hospital.”

The drive to the hospital was a blur—Parker didn’t really even remember getting there. She remembered calling Michael in a daze, telling him what happened before hanging up and letting him deal with telling Ashton and Luke. She remembered sitting with Calum in the waiting room for the doctor that called him. She remembered what the doctor told her—that she had a sudden heart attack, likely resulting from her head injury and there was nothing that could have been done. Grace’s neighbour called an ambulance but she was gone before she even made it to the hospital. Parker remembered walking with her hand firmly clasped in Calum’s as they entered the room that Gram was in, her body covered with a sheet.

Calum sucked in a breath, stopping at the door.

Parker stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the room. “You don’t have to see her,” she told him, cupping his face in her hands. “You don’t have to remember her like this.” She spoke calmly, though she felt anything but.

Calum shook his head. “No,” he sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I have to.” It sounded more like he was convincing himself than anyone else.

Parker nodded and grasped his hand, holding tight as she walked with him to the bed.

“Can—can you—”

Parker nodded. She lifted the corner of the sheet, pulling it back slowly to reveal Grace’s face and upper body. She looked peaceful, like she was sleeping, but Calum and Parker both knew she wasn’t.

Calum’s resolve broke again, and the tears streamed down his face as he reached out slowly to touch her. He touched her hand, and it wasn’t warm like it usually was. He crouched down, body shaking with silent sobs as he rested his head on the bed next to the woman who raised him.

“I’m so sorry, Gram,” he choked, over and over. “I’m sorry.”

Parker just stood there behind him, helpless, rubbing his back in a futile attempt to calm him down, but she was crying, too.

After a while he stood, and he hugged Parker tightly, as if he was afraid she'd disappear if he let go. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she just held him while he cried.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she whispered, sliding her hands up the back of his hoodie and rubbing soothing circles on his lower back.

She looked out the window of the room, seeing Michael, Luke and Ashton standing there with somber expressions on their faces.

“The boys are here,” Parker whispered.

Calum lifted his head, wiping his eyes. “Thanks for calling them.”

She followed behind him as he joined his brothers outside the room, the four of them coming together in a hug, comforting each other. Gram wasn’t just Calum’s family—she was all of theirs.

• • • • • •

Parker decided to take some time off work to be with Calum after Gram’s death. The night he got the call, Calum tossed and turned all night. Parker woke up in the middle of the night and found Calum gone. She got out of bed and went out into the living room, seeing him out on the balcony having a cigarette. She wrapped her arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. He was silent for a few minutes, then he finally spoke. “Go back to bed, angel,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “I’m gonna have another smoke.”

The next morning, Parker woke, still alone. She wasn’t sure if Calum had come back to bed or if he stayed in the living room the rest of the night, but he was already awake. She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Duke was asleep on Calum’s side of the bed, and Loki was sleeping in his tree by their bedroom window. She rolled over, careful not to disturb Duke, and climbed out of bed. As she stood, she heard a loud crash from the living room, making her jump. This jolted Duke awake, his ears down and shoulders hunched from being startled, and Loki jumped off his tree and skirted under the bed. Parker heard another loud bang, followed by a third, all accompanied by Calum cursing loudly.

“Fuck!” she heard him yell, and she ran down the hall as she continued to hear the sound of smashing glass. She stopped in her tracks when she took in the sight of the living room—there were shards everywhere. The coffee table had been upturned, a large crack in the center, and several vases and picture frames were littered on the floor, a fine dusting of glass shards spanning from the entrance of the hallway where Parker stood, all the way through the kitchen and to the front door.

Calum stood in the middle of the room in nothing but a pair of sweats, his feet bare, hands laced behind his head as he looked down. She could hear him incoherently mumbling to himself, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She retreated back into the bedroom, quickly grabbing a pair of slippers and putting them on before closing the door to prevent their pets from walking through the glass.

She made her way over to him slowly, walking carefully over the glass. It was then that she noticed three large holes in the drywall, dust and blood covering the knuckles on Calum’s right hand.

“Baby,” Parker whispered. “What happened?” she asked stupidly, regretting her question as soon as it left her lips. She knew what happened, obviously. He was angry, and he took it out in the only way he felt could give him control.

“I should have been there,” he muttered. “I should have been with her,” he said as he finally looked up, and his eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot.

“Cal, there’s nothing you could have done. It was a heart attack. There was nothing anyone could have done to save her.”

“But she was alone,” he sniffed. “I should have been with her. She shouldn’t even have been living alone. I haven’t seen her since last Friday. We were supposed to have lunch on Wednesday afternoon, and I bailed ‘cause I wasn’t feeling good. The last time I talked to her was to cancel plans, and now I’m never going to see her again.”

If Parker’s heart hadn’t already broken yesterday, it was definitely broken now. Calum carried so much on his shoulders, and now he blamed himself for Gram’s death.

“It’s not your fault, baby,” Parker whispered. Calum ignored her. She grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. “This wasn’t your fault. And she loved you. And she knew how much you loved her. You didn’t let her down. She was so proud of you.”

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” he whispered, shaking his head. He seemed to just notice all the glass all over the floor. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he cursed, inspecting her to make sure she wasn’t cut anywhere. His eyes widened in sudden alarm. “Where are the boys?” he asked, thinking of Duke and Loki. “Fuck, I’m so stupid, I wasn’t thinking,” he muttered, taking in the state of the living room.

“They’re fine. I locked them in the bedroom,” she assured him. “Come on, let’s get this cleaned up and then I can draw you a bath,” she suggested, knowing how Calum liked to relax in a hot bath when he had a shitty day.

He nodded. “I’m sorry, angel. This was reckless. I could have hurt you.”

Parker shook her head. “It’s okay, I’m fine,” she promised him, but he didn’t seem satisfied.

“I just got so angry. At myself, at everything.”

Parker nodded. “I know, baby,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his bare torso and holding him tight. She lifted his right hand to her lips, pressing gentle kisses to his bleeding knuckles.

Calum swept up the glass while Parker righted the coffee table and picked up all the broken picture frames. She followed him with the vacuum, cleaning up all the tiny shards of glass he missed until they were sure it was safe for Duke and Loki to come out.

Once everything was cleaned up, Parker drew a bath for Calum and lit some candles, adding a lavender bath bomb to the tub.

She went out into the living room to tell him that the bath was ready, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, angel,” he stood, kissing her forehead and heading into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he always did.

A few seconds later, Parker heard him calling for her. When she entered the bathroom, he was standing next to the tub, naked.

“Get in with me,” he gestured to the tub with a nod of his head. He didn’t mean it in a sexual way at all, he just needed to be close to her. Calum moved to where Parker stood, lifting her shirt over her head, sliding her sweats down and discarding them both next to his own. He got in first, leaning against the back of the tub before holding his hand out for her to step in. She settled in between his legs, resting her head in the space between his head and his shoulder. Calum wrapped his arms around her, his hands folded and resting on her stomach. They lay like that for a while, letting the hot water warm their skin, the smell of lavender relaxing them.

Finally, Calum broke their silence. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you, you know,” he murmured. “More than I ever thought I would be capable of.”

Parker’s insides melted, and it wasn’t due to the hot water. She lifted one of his hands, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I love you, too, Cal.”

Even though losing Gram had turned his world upside down, he knew things would be okay again, as long as Parker was by his side.

taglist: @treatallwithkindness @oopsiedoopsie23 @tunnnelvision @wildflower-mmr @crazytarotanon

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omgkalyppso · 4 years

Note

Ahhh Recurring here for the writing challenge prompt list, I'd be interested to see what you did with: Resfeber - thrill felt before an adventure!

This is probably NOTHING like what you were expecting. It was nothing like I was expecting. But it’s because I looked up Resfeber, and was first surprised it wasn’t an english word, and there was no real rules on how to use it correctly, and the actual definition is: The restless race of the traveler's heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together. OR more literally: travel fever.

Linhardt rarely had trouble sleeping. He’d indulged in and suffered through countless all-nighters in his life. Some were for research, others for reading, and yet others for fear and worry. However whenever he’d needed sleep, and sometimes when he didn’t, it came to him, like an old friend, promising new chances to research, strikes of inspiration, and better circumstances for when he woke.

Tonight though, he couldn’t sleep.

He smiled, because the bed was warm and comfortable, complete with welcome company and the security of peace, the promise of freedom…

He and Caspar had slept together before, but never like this, never like lovers. As such, Linhardt knew how to lay around him so they were both comfortable, and Caspar did not wake due to the candlelight by the bed, so used to Linhardt reading late into the night.

Slowly, Linhardt swept his hand across Caspar’s chest, wondering, idly, if there were words in his lover’s skin; secrets of pleasure, and pain, and the absolutely mundane. Caspar huffed in his sleep, reaching up to bat Linhardt’s hand away as he rolled on his side, then holding his hand around his stomach, which rippled and gurgled.

Linhardt chuckled, quiet in the hush of the room, and repositioned so that he could press his face into the back of a muscled shoulder. He imagined Caspar was going to be disappointed with him tomorrow, sleeping through the first leg of their journey, but Linhardt thought it would be quite fitting, all things considered.

He had been so afraid when Caspar had declared he was leaving, it was such a poorly worded invitation, but Linhardt wouldn’t have wanted for anything else when it became clear that they could go together. Experiments were difficult on the road, but travel was its own adventure, and would expose so many new ideas and such a wealth of information… Linhardt doubted that mattered. He would have followed Caspar anywhere to continue his research, whether at the Bergliez estate or out in the world.

There was some guilt, not about their families, but about whether there were more direct ways to help the people who had been affected by the war; Linhardt would have to hope that going to these people directly would offer some measure of mutual benefit.

The guilt was not enough to dissuade his excitement. This trip would be healing, and long overdue. Far from spilled blood, and free of unnecessary distraction; prying eyes, suspicious allies and demanding nobles.

Linhardt realized his vision was blurry before he registered the tears, and shut his eyes closed firm as he pressed a long kiss to the back of Caspar’s shoulder. Caspar shrugged, as if trying to dislodge him, and Linhardt sobbed a laugh.

Trying to pull away from Caspar was impossible when his hand clenched on Linhardt’s wrist. Linhardt had begun to tremble around him, against his back and Caspar had to think for a moment as the movement woke him.

“Are you crying?” Caspar asked, releasing Linhardt’s hand.

Linhardt swept at his face with his now free hand. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice thick with sadness. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell,” Caspar hissed in worry, shifting closer to the edge of the bed so he could roll over to face Lin. He swept back Linhardt’s long, wild hair. “Linny.” He hesitated before adding, “Baby. Was it a dream?”

A ghost of a smile crept over Linhardt then. He shook his head, tilting his face forward into Caspar’s hands, and letting his green locks fall forward again, hiding him. “I haven’t slept.”

Caspar’s calloused fingers pulled away, just an inch, just for an instant, before seeking Linhardt’s face and neck again. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I’m so fucking clumsy. Is there anything you need? I’ll get it. I’m sorry, I—”

“Caspar,” Linhardt interrupted. He swept his hair back, and though his lashes were wet and his cheeks were red, he was smiling, stupidly. “Do you really think that if you’d hurt me I’d let you live it down? I’d be prepared to insist you carry me everywhere.” Caspar rolled his eyes. “That you feed and water my horse.”

“I already do that.”

Lin snickered and looked away for a moment, darting his eyes back but holding position. “That we find other methods of compensation.”

Caspar still frowned. “Like research?”

“Fun research,” Linhardt insisted, reaching out to hold Caspar’s bicep so that his arm was linked around his.

“Fun for you,” Caspar accused, accepting a kiss. He sighed. “Then why the tears? Second thoughts?”’

“No,” Linhardt answered quickly, a flash of worry on his features. “At first I think I was just kept up for resfeber, but that just got me thinking of being away from everything that had been familiar to me, either since the war or from before … and … even finding comfort in the unfamiliar, it’s hard to feel worthy of it.

“If I were an experiment on how to do good in the world, then I would be a failure. My actions … and my inaction, have hurt so many more people than I might ever be able to help.”

Caspar let his hands drip to Linhardt’s shoulders, and then pressed one hand into his hair and him down into the curve of his neck.

“You’re not an experiment, Lin,” Caspar grunted, trying not to be angry about this; there was no way to fight their demons. “You’re a person. You’re a good person.” Linhardt was crying again and so this became a mantra for Caspar, repeated as he stroked fingers along his friend’s spine.

Linhardt would have been embarrassed to admit how long that went on, before they both lay, silent and together, for a few minutes more.

“Linny-Baby?” Caspar called, less hesitant in the pet name after Linhardt’s previous lack-of-reaction.

“Mm,” Linhardt hummed, and Caspar twitched his shoulder, because his neck and collarbone felt clammy from Linhardt’s tears and breathing. He pressed his chin into Linhardt’s hair for a moment, sighing, before tilting his face away to continue speaking.

“You’re so smart… I can’t wait to see you change the world. I know you can do it. But there’s no rush. You don’t need to change it right now. We’ll just, fuck off together, for a little while. I’ll keep you safe long enough for you to help anyone you want to. Deal?”

Linhardt’s heart felt tight. “Deal.”

#linhardt von hevring #caspar von bergliez #casphardt #linspar #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #long post #my writing #i made this #the fanfiction i mean

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stellalux-universe · 4 years

Text

Notes:

Whoo-hooo! Look who's back!

I'm so sorry this took so long! December literally kicked my ass, and I tried to write, I really did. But every day I got home from work and literally passed out on my couch... so, yeah, didn't get much done over the holidays.

But I'm back and better and I'm gonna say that I'll update more regularly but we'll see. My goal is at least two chapters a month... but we'll see how that goes -hangs head in shame-

Anyways! Please enjoy and comment if you like! My resolution for 2020, besides writing more, is to comment more on fics that I enjoy instead of telling myself that I'll go back and comment later and then totally forgetting like the trash that I am.

Love you all!

-Partial smut (of fucking course with me) so NSFW friends.

Tag list of gorgeous people who requested I inform them of when I post because they’re the sweetest 😭: @smokeandmirrorz @xpoisonousrosesx and @duffshairdye

*Let me know if you would like to be added to a general tag list or just to this story and I’ll so do it!

Chapter 3: Some Like The Evil

The sunlight filtering through the windows and into the bedroom is far too bright to belong to the morning. The intense glare settles over Nikki’s eyelids, warm, orange, and irritating when all he wants to do in the world is keep sleeping. It figures that he would have been too fucked up last night to actually draw the blinds before he fell into bed.

He has nothing to do today, one of his last days off before rehearsals and preparations kick into high gear for the tour so he fights tooth and nail against returning to consciousness, desiring nothing more than to sink back into that blissful haze of slumber but it’s of no use. His mind is slowly becoming more and more aware of the world around him and as he drowsily blinks his eyelids open, he groans in annoyance when his eyes burn with the transition from darkness to light.

He wants to raise a hand to cover his eyes but as soon as he tries he finds that he can’t lift his arms, more than that, he can barely even twitch his fingers. The shock wakes him up completely enough to realize that his whole body is heavy, weighed down like lead, and an exhaustion he’s never known is suddenly apparent to him. He’s been tired before, even been exhausted before after a killer show and a long night of partying, but the bone deep fatigue that makes him struggle to even minimally move his body is unlike anything that he has ever felt before.

For a moment he thinks that he’s maybe come down with something and gotten himself seriously sick. It’s the only explanation that his tired mind can come up with because he didn’t do anything last night to explain why he’s feeling this way. He wracks his brain, going over the events of the previous day to try to find a reason for why his body feels like it’s about ten times heavier. He had felt fine when he got home, he had fucked around a bit and watched some tv, went to his studio to try to write a bit, got frustrated over not being able to write a damn thing, drank a third of a handle of Jack… passed out and went to bed. Standard practice for a night in.

But then, unbidden, his brain flashes a series of images as he tries to pinpoint an explanation; curly hair and glowing eyes looking up at him from beneath dark lashes, long slender back arched beneath him, red lips and a wicked smile and sharp teeth… no, not teeth, fangs. Fangs that sunk into the skin of his shoulders, horns tucked in amongst wild wavy brown hair, a tail that wrapped itself around Nikki’s thigh as he fucked the gorgeous demon from behind, and claws that tore down his back as he nailed him with his legs wrapped around his waist.

Remembering his dream is nothing but bitter sweet but he’s torn out of his thought process when a soft noise starts making itself known to him. That’s when Nikki finally looks down and very nearly has a heart attack at what meets his eyes.

It’s nearly impossible to him and for a second his mind is blank, he’s holding his breath and everything just stops because there, laid out and curled up on his chest, is the demon from his dream. Nikki almost thinks that he’s still dreaming but the haziness that had been over him the previous night is gone and his clarity tells him that he is more than definitely awake which also makes him realize something else.

Last night was absolutely, startlingly real.

It wasn’t a dream, or an alcohol infused fantasy, it wasn’t even a hallucination. He really spent all night fucking a demon and what’s more, it had been the single best sexual experience of his life. Even now, looking down at the demon purring, absolutely fucking purring, as he slept on his chest, Nikki thinks that he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. In the sunlight pouring over them he can see that his long curly hair is actually a dark brown instead of black like he thought last night, his skin is olive toned and lightly tanned, one hand cutely curled up by his pretty face.

None of that seems to stop the steady panic filling him though, and he has to look back up and away from the demon, Tommy- his mind supplies out of nowhere, and try to calm himself down before he loses it.

For all that he found witchcraft and religion monumentally interesting, he didn’t actually believe a single word of it. He’d had friends growing up who went to church and his grandparents had of course tried to get him involved with theirs as a way to alter his behavior during his childhood but Nikki had made his peace with the fact that there was no way any type of god existed a long time ago. He was drawn to Satanic imagery for the pure aesthetic and used it in his music and his performances as a metaphor for rebelling against the norm, and as a fuck you to general society of course. It was dark and twisted, often how he felt himself, so of course he gravitated to it but that was the extent of his involvement.

This challenges everything he knew, everything he thought he believed and didn’t believe in because if the demon on top of him right now was real, does that mean that everything else is too? Are there angels, and a God and heaven and hell? Is there a Satan and what does that mean for him if there is? Is this creature going to wake up and just slaughter him, right here in his bed in the bright light of day and send him to hell where he undoubtedly belongs after everything he has done in his life so far? Surely fucking a demon and going multiple rounds would be a sure way to get barred from heaven even if nothing else that he has done had.

He struggles to move his body again, breathing and heart rate fast in his alarm, but he can’t do much more than squirm uselessly as his body is nearly completely unresponsive. He’s so busy fighting the muscles in his limbs to try to get them to just move that he doesn’t even notice that the soft purring has stopped until he happens to look back down to try to figure out what to do about his paralysis and sees the demon glaring up at him from beneath the fringe of his bangs and if Nikki could have jumped in his surprise, he would have.

As it is, he just freezes, green eyes wide as he watches the demon blink sleepily and sit up, both hands resting on Nikki’s chest so he can arch and stretch his back like a cat on top of him and it’s because of that movement that Nikki realizes that he’s still inside of the demon, Tommy straddled across his lap and still impaled on his now soft cock and while the idea of the creature falling asleep with Nikki’s dick inside of him is obscenely hot, it does nothing to quell his current panic. He’s definitely going straight to hell for this.

Tommy finally settles on top of him, sitting up straight on Nikki’s hips and tilting his head curiously as he looks down at him and Nikki really needs to stop thinking that this literal demon is cute right now before he has an aneurysm.

“Well, you woke me up with all your panic, so you want to tell me what’s wrong Nik?” The demon actually has the audacity to look annoyed with him, big brown eyes narrowed and actually pouting as he looks down at him. As if Nikki wasn’t having a life altering existential crisis right now.

Nikki can’t even say anything for a moment, wide eyes moving over the little black horns and the thin tail that’s now lazily whipping back and forth behind Tommy, mouth opening and closing without a word coming out because he honestly does not know what to say.

Tommy gives a little sigh of exasperation, leaning over him to flick his nose in an almost playful gesture and saying, “Hello, earth to Nikki Sixx, you alive down there dude?”

That’s enough to jolt him out of his daze, swallowing his nerves and just muttering a quiet, “You’re real.”

Tommy sits back up at that abruptly, the demon looking down at him with wide eyes and Nikki notes how brightly they shine in the light of the sun, the red glow that he’s seen a couple times gone for now, before Tommy is actually laughing. It’s a boisterous, happy noise and it almost makes Nikki smile just to hear it but he’s far too incredulous to do so at the moment.

“You really didn’t summon me on purpose did you?” The demon asks with laughter still in his voice, red lips pulled back into a wide smile that shows off one small fang as it peeks over his lip, giggling again when Nikki shakes him head mutely, “You really thought last night was some sort of fever dream or something then huh? Dream of fucking demons often, Nikki Sixx?”

Nikki is sputtering at the teasing, terrified or not, this demon was making fun of him and embarrassment is not a feeling that Nikki likes, “I don’t- I just- fuck, you’re a literal fucking demon, like a real demon, a ‘from hell’ demon. You could literally kill me right now, easy, and I’d go straight to hell-”

Tommy moves swiftly, grabs his hands and pins them to the bed above his head, bending down to nip at his already sore bottom lip, “Cool it human, if I had wanted to kill you, I would have done it last night.”

That doesn’t exactly inspire much relaxation for Nikki, however, as the demon basically just told him that he more than definitely could kill him but Nikki is already moving on to the next issue at hand, “I fucked a demon.”

Tommy gives him that same sultry smile from last night and Nikki’s eyes widen when he feels his cock twitch from where it’s still buried inside of the creature. The demon nuzzles into his neck then, nipping at the sensitive skin behind his ear and giggles again, “Yes, you really did, multiple times.”

Nikki unconsciously tilts his head a little to the side, unintentionally giving Tommy more room to mark up his neck even as he says, “That was you, you did some sort of fucking demon magic to make me fuck you.”

Tommy pulls away at that, letting go of Nikki’s hands and sitting up straight, looking down at Nikki with an extremely offended expression on his face, “You got hard for me all on your own Nikki Sixx, I just kept you that way for longer than you’d usually be able to last.”

Nikki can’t argue against that, because as soon as Tommy says it, he knows it was true. He thinks about how he had entered his bedroom last night, seeing Tommy spread across his bed just like the dream he thought that it was. He had started getting hard just looking at the demon.

Tommy glares down at him, that red glow from last night back in his eyes, claws scratching lightly down Nikki’s chest as he dips down and bites lightly at the bassist’s lip, “I didn’t make you grab me by my hair and fuck my mouth until you were cumming down my throat.”

The bassist groans, both at Tommy’s ministrations and the images his words conjure up in Nikki’s mind. He should still feel afraid, but something about Tommy is just so appealing to him that he feels that fear slipping away easily. And why shouldn’t it? Nikki has always loved dark and twisted things.

He watches with hooded green eyes when Tommy gives him a wicked grin, the demon running his lips softly over his jaw as he starts to gently rock his hips against him, “I didn’t make you fuck up into me as I rode you, or make you put me on my back and fuck me until I was crying, and I definitely didn’t make you wrestle me onto my hands and knees and fuck me from behind. That was all you Nik.”

Nikki groans again as he feels himself hardening inside of Tommy, the demon making small little whimpers as he feels it too, “I can’t go again, fuck, there’s no way.”

Tommy straightens up on top of him, hips rolling down and curls swaying with the movement of his body as he laughs breathily, “It feels like you can Nik, and this is all you too, no demon magic involved.”

“Fuck, Tommy, I can’t even move my fucking body, I can’t fuck you again. What the hell did you do to me?” Nikki grunts out, trying his hardest to move his arms, or legs, anything.

The demon on top of him slows his movement then, hips gently grinding and Nikki is surprised to see the light blush light up Tommy’s cheeks as he answers, “I- I may have taken too much energy from you last night, I’m sorry.”

Nikki looks up at him in confusion, eyes questioning as he asks, “Just what the hell does that mean?”

Tommy’s blush deepens and Nikki can’t help but be endeared at the slightly flustered disposition he’s portraying. He probably shouldn’t find it as cute as he did, but it was just so different from the absolutely playful, seductive behavior he has had up until now, Nikki just can’t help it.

“Well, I’m, I’m a sex demon right? An incubus, succubus, whatever the hell you humans call us, I get nourishment from, well from-”

“From sex.” Nikki finishes for him, finally understand a little bit about what was going on, honestly relieved that he wasn’t just dying or something more dramatic.

“From sexual energy, yeah.” Tommy nods, eyes wide and still blushing as he looks down at Nikki, “I don’t really need that much, but you were just…”

Nikki raises an eyebrow at the demon as he trails off, waiting for him to continue as Tommy’s expression becomes downright petulant, “Yeah? I was just?”

Tommy huffs out in frustration, looking away as he rocks his hips a little more insistently and whines as he completes his sentence, “You were just so good, I couldn’t stop.”

The statement and the movement of Tommy’s hips on top of him have him hissing out a curse, he’s fully hard now and at this point he couldn’t care less about Tommy being a demon or what that means for his whole philosophical outlook on life. He just wants Tommy again, as crazy as that is, and he fully accepts that for right now.

“Tommy…” Nikki groans, trying to get the demon’s attention from where he’s losing focus as he grinds down a little harder. “Tommy! Fuck, I still can’t move!”

Tommy’s eyes flutter open, the little whines that had been escaping his lips pausing as he slows his movements again and looks down at Nikki with wide eyes, “Oh… OH! I can fix that.”

The demon is suddenly biting down on his own lip, catching the flesh with a fang so that blood starts seeping slowly from the wound before he’s leaning down and kissing Nikki deep and ravenous, pulling Nikki’s tongue into his mouth to encourage the bassist to explore. Nikki does his best with the limited movement afforded to his body but as he tastes Tommy’s blood he can feel his muscles start to respond, energy flooding back into his limbs until he’s able to bring his arms up to wrap around the demon and roll them over, hitching those long legs up around his waist and thrusting into Tommy’s tight, wet heat with a groan.

Tommy’s reaction is instantaneous, arching his back sharply and sinking his claws into Nikki’s shoulders as he cries out Nikki’s name. The demon rolls his hips into the bassist’s thrusts greedily, tossing his head back when the human surges down to bite and kiss at his neck, “Nnngh, Nik, Nikki, oh, y-you’re going to use up all of you-your energy again.”

Nikki can’t help the grin that pulls at his lips as he straightens to a kneel, holding Tommy’s hips up as he pounds into the demon beneath him. The obscene moan he gets, the way Tommy’s eyes roll back and his hands pull at his own hair makes him groan at the arousing display he makes, “Fuck babe, I don’t care. If, if I’m ruining my chances of getting into heaven I ain’t gonna half ass it.”

The demon moans again before giggling, reaching up to grab at Nikki’s hair and yank him back down, licking a stripe up his neck before biting at the bassist’s ear lobe, “T-trust me Nik, fuck, heaven is overrated.”

And Nikki might just be damned already because he believes it. He believes it as he fucks the demon into another screaming orgasm and he believes it when Tommy curls up afterwards into Nikki’s side and rests his head on his shoulder and he definitely believes it when just before he passes out again he manages to catch Tommy muttering, “You really are something else Nikki Sixx.”

He believes in this demon and he really doesn’t care if fucking him means he goes straight to hell when he dies, it’s a sin that is completely worth the punishment.

But when he wakes up again in the early hours of the next morning, Tommy is gone.

#shout at the devil fic by stellalux #motley crue fanfic #terrorcest #terror twins #tommy/nikki #tommy lee #nikki sixx #chapter 3 #oh my god this took me forever #i'm so sorry #i'm trash

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eutaerpe · 5 years

Text

venus and mars

pairing — jimin x reader

genre/warnings — fluff, idolverse, boyfriend au, a wild (brat) jungkook appears, sleep deprived maknae line

notes — hi!!! this is part of a small series of disconnected drabbles/blurbs centered on jimin, who is not my bias wrecker,,.......aha........yeah. unedited so sorry for my mistakes, this was written when i was sleep deprived.......aha......!!! i’ll link in the future the venus and mars moodboard, as tumblr still fucks up posts with links :( hope you like this!!! send me thoughts?? or love? wait no i’m proving a point i’m not jimin ♥︎

summary — “He’s gone.”

“Good,” you hum contently, “Now you can talk dirty to me.”

“You literally mentioned chocolate bunnies and serial killers earlier, babe.”

“Oooh, yes, more,” you moan playfully, cuddling your pillow. “Park Jimin. Chef kiss. The man you are today.”

Sometimes releasing an album it’s exhausting.

Jimin knows that.

It’s indefinitely cooler dropping hints to your fans and making them believe it’s a mind-blowing journey where you write lyrics everyday and produce sounds in thirty minutes tops. Like they’ve always been there, like they’ve been in your mind the whole time and you just had to politely ask them to come out and materialize themselves.

Most of the time, it’s just people in a room. Nodding to whatever is happening in their Macs, moving their hands in the air, following a certain rhythm one day thousands of people will know. Sometimes, instead, it’s all quiet, if he’s lucky; there’s only a reigning peace towering the leather couches and armchairs where people are sprawled on.

Right now, the silence’s broken by the small sounds his phone is making. The truth is that he’s gently forcing everyone to listen to his tracks.

He has been holding his phone and earbuds for the past forty-three minutes, crouching on his knees next to the person he needed the approval of. It’s a tad embarrassing, and people mostly thinks he does this in order to fulfil his praise kink, but. They’re not totally wrong.

He just really, desperately needs approval.

“It’s nice,” Namjoon says, and Jimin feels a rush of excitement spreading into his body. Namjoon doesn’t lie. Namjoon likes telling the truth, whether it’s a rushed “I don’t like it, I feel like you could do a lot better” or a warmer “I like this vibe. Keep working on this.”

Getting the members’ approval is one of the moments he shields the most in his heart, along with private, quick moments fans can’t see taking place. There’s a lot of congratulations behind the stage, a lot of hugging that can’t happen because of all the styling and make-up, lots of texts read by the managers out loud, declaring things like “you’ve really outdone yourselves” and “keep that going”, which never fail to make Jimin warm.

Though the hastiness of it all is somewhat frightening. There are people crowding the streets and stadiums and everywhere they go—for them, Jimin thinks, it’s heavier. The tickets fever, waiting outside for hours, shifting their bodies into difficult positions, outside buildings for so long just to see their smiles flashing for thirty seconds.

It’s unnerving.

Fans do so much and they—they jump into their cars, rapidly seeing the fans becoming dots into the distance. In a millisecond. Jimin hates that.

It’s past four am, his rushed recording has gotten almost everyone’s approval – not Jungkook’s, though; the Brat has decided that his work needs more backup vocals and a lot heavier hook, and drums or other weird, loud instruments – and this result alone should be relaxing, or. Exciting, he supposes. This should result in a definitely warmer feeling aimed to push him to work harder, as stuff like this usually does, but this time feels different. This time it’s – nonsense, an unknown frigid state of anxiety that he cannot calm down.

Dorm life feels suffocating now, because Seokjin is in the studio, Namjoon is distantly working to lyrics and Hoseok has disappeared ever since he announced he’d be working for a diverse track, loud and crazy and depictive of their pent-up energy.

Anxious Jimin knows talking helps, but Rational Jimin argues that the only voice he’d want to hear, now, is not available, so what’s the point?

You’re resting.

Aha. What a feeling. What an unconceivable, strange action he was used to when he was younger.

Still, you’re resting. Closing your eyelids for more than thirty-six seconds on a working day. Sleeping.

Like every other normal human being at four am.

He groans, unblocking his phone and instantly drowning in his oversized hoodie, his left hand barely making an appearance in the cold hair.

He shouldn’t, he reckons, but you have always told Jimin he shouldn’t think, and moreover, he shouldn’t listen to his self-destructive thoughts when hungry or sleep-deprived.

So, ding, ding, ding! He excels in non-proper thinking when sleep deprived – and he’s always sleep deprived, so. Ten thousand points to Gryffindor, as Seokjin-hyung would say.

Jungkook mutters a “Gotta pee,” exiting the room and leaving Jimin alone in the living room. You’re not picking up. That’s okay, that’s fine, he should really stop bothering you—

“Hey, Chim,”

It’s the softest voice he has ever heard in his twenty-three years of life. God. You could punch him in the gut, and he’d thank you.

“Is…” – you’re shuffling in bed, and he can picture you passing a hand over your closed eyes – “Is everything okay?”

Jimin licks his lips, feeling his tiredness embracing him. “Yeah, sorry I woke you up…”

“Mhm.” You breathe out. “Nonsense.”

He hears you sitting on your bed, yawning. “Have you showed the others your recording?”, you ask, because you’re perfect like this. Jimin instantly feels guilty for this random night call.

“The hyungs liked it,” he murmurs, voice low, “I’ll show you tomorrow, if you want to?”

“Please. It’s not like I’ve been begging you to for the past week, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the main reason why I’m avoiding you.”

You groan, making him smile. “Don’t joke about it, jerk. We miss you.”

“We?”

“My bed? Me? Mostly the bed, though?”

The idiot snorts. “Cocky, aren’t we?”

But you do love this idiot. “Not joking. I’ve been hearing stuff from these sheets. ‘Been missing your non-existent tattoo.”

“Sounds logic.” Jimin hums, and that’s all you need to hear to know he’s feeling better than seconds ago.

“Babe,” you start, tongue rolling on the back of your mouth, “What I’m about to say is not gonna make a lot of sense because a minute ago I was dreaming about chocolate bunnies and serial killers, but. You know I miss you, right? But then again, you know this, and you know that I love you.”

Jungkook plops on the couch and starts scrolling on what Jimin assumes is his secret twitter account. Stan account, according to the sources. (Taehyung and Seokjin are his sources, thank you very much). When the younger turns around and catches him staring, Jimin all but attempts a smile—promptly cut by the cushion Guk throws him.

Jimin sighs. They grow up so fast.

“I know you. I know that if there’s someone who can go through these hard few days, it’s you and the guys. In a couple weeks you’re going to think about this day and laugh because it sounds like the plot of an indie, overrated movie. You can do it. I know you do.”

He loves you so much he could cry, but he decides against it. Instead, he says: “You’re like my energizer drink, you know?”

To which Jungkook and you both answer with a disinterested, “Ew, disgusting.”

The things your boyfriend says when sleepy. Gosh.

“Why the fuck is noona still dating you?” – Jungkook prorupts loudly enough that you hear, voice painted with curiosity – “You’re weird, hyung.”

“It’s definitely because of your dick—”

“She says I’m a kind soul.”

“—Dicking game’s so good I might forget you just called me a sweetened drink.”

“And buy her expensive stuff.”

Jungkook feigns a shocked face. “So, you’re her sugar daddy? Noona, I have an apartment. For myself.”

“Don’t hit on my girl right in front of me, kid.”

You erupt into a fit of giggles. “Oh my god, when did Guk become so annoying? I love him. Can we adopt him?”

“Too bad,” he says aloud, trying not to smile, “Too bad we’ve already adopted him as our group’s mascot, babe. He’s not an obedient child, though.”

The “Fuck off,” Jungkook sputters is enough for making you laugh so hard he doesn’t have it in himself to stop you because you’re so loud you could wake Tae, asleep on the kitchen counter.

This—this moment right here, is what Jimin loves most about his life. Besides performing and laughing because Jungkook called him a small pepper once again – the audacity – and other vague, members-related facts. You calm him, and love him, and listen to whatever thing he has on his mind.

“He’s gone.”

“Good,” you hum contently, “Now you can talk dirty to me.”

“You literally mentioned chocolate bunnies and serial killers earlier, babe.”

“Oooh, yes, more,” you moan playfully, cuddling your pillow. “Park Jimin. Chef kiss. The man you are today.”

“I can’t believe you just said that out loud.”

“Yeah, me neither. Guess one of us really needs to sleep and, shockingly, that’s not you?”

“I know,” – Jimin assures, closing his eyes – “Pretty sure this is another of your strange dreams, weirdo.”

You’re drifting off, and it’s the cutest thing Jimin has ever witnessed. “Kiss Guk goodnight. And…” a yawn, “Call me again in a couple hours, I really want to know what you’re working on, baby.”

“That can do,” he says, softly. “Love you.”

But he doesn’t hear you saying it back to him.

Only Taehyung muttering a soft “Nobody ever kisses me goodnight.”, half dead, half pouted, which makes Jimin smile like an idiot.

266 notes · View notes

sweet-little-bird-fanfic · 5 years

Text

YOUNG K - Pure Desire

Masterlist & Chapters: Check my bio for the masterlist link.

Summary: A young writer that’s struggling with her work until she crosses paths with an intense and fated new type of inspiration; An inspiration called: YOUNG K!

Genre: Fanfic; Romance; SMUT !!! (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

Warnings: Swearing? ; IT'S GONNA BE HEATED;

Chapter 6 – By Candlelight

Violet

I had woken up due to some construction work from the house next to ours. The funny thing was that instead of waking up from a dream, I woke up to a dream: Young K was sleeping next to me. He was in my bed sleeping quietly as an angel and looking like a Greek God. “A sinful piece of heaven”, those were the best and only words I could find to describe him. But of course, the paradisiac atmosphere would soon vanish when I realise he had a fever and I had to come up with an excuse to explain why he was in my room. Luckily, I woke up before everyone and had time to make myself look like I didn’t have a wild night with a kpop star.

When the rest of the band members woke up I was so nervous that I could barely track any of the words I pronounced.

- Sorry guys, good morning. – I said at my door as I held some wet towels in my hands from nursing Young K.

- Good morning. Have you seen Brian, today? He wasn’t in the room when we woke up. – Sungjin said with a deep sleepy voice.

- He’s in my room. – I said between accelerated and loud heartbeats as they looked at me with perplex eyes filled with confusion and curiosity – I was going to get a drink from the kitchen and I met him halfway on the stairs. He was sweating a lot and looked like he was about to faint. I didn’t want to wake you up and couldn’t even find the courage to knock on the door… so I just helped him out and now he’s in here.

They were so worried that didn’t even bothered to think too much about what I was saying. After DAY6 checked on Young K and took some embarrassing photos of him, they left the house with Kim Jii (big bro).

I sat on the sofa in the living room and cuddled up with my black haired ball bean, my cat was surely lacking some attention so I was trying to make it up to her. I prayed that Kim Joon (little bro) would go to school soon without realising Young K was in my bed. Which, for my luck, actually happened and that made me wonder if something bad would happen soon enough. “Too easy. No drama.” I thought to myself when Kim Joon walked downstairs, barely pronouncing any words whatsoever. I heard him grabbing some food from the kitchen and shove it into his schoolbag as he walked to the house entrance to put his shoes on. He bowed towards my direction before leaving:

- See you later, Noona. Good luck with your writing.

I caught myself sighing from relief when he shut the door and that made me feel terrible. But at the same time, I felt my cheeks getting warmer as I started to imagine what could happen today, as my expectations of going further and further with Young K kept growing wildly and the memories of last night kept assaulting my senses. Oh, how I wished to feel more than his talented hands and rough fingers inside me. I just stood on the sofa looking at the staircase hoping he would come down at any second. It was early in the morning and the only thing I could think about was sex. No actually, the only thing on my mind was Young K and how much I wanted him to push me down or against a wall and fuck me. We getting lost in each other, that’s all that was on my mind. It was almost embarrassing how long it took me to step out of my lewd imagination and stop daydreaming about him. But somehow, I managed to drag myself out of my personal naughty-land (call it dream-land would be too innocent) and got some work done as I impatiently waited for him to wake up, in the living room.

After correcting, rewriting, deleting and writing for the whole morning, my neck started to kill me and I decided to take a break. I prepared some warm honey lemon ginger tea, I had heard some of the hold ladies that lived in our neighbourhood saying it was good for colds. As I prepared two cups of it, a sudden thought crashed onto me. Why was I preparing tea for colds? When I wasn’t even sick. And why was I preparing two of them in the first place? That was when I cursed at myself and felt, for the first time, afraid that I was starting to like Young K far too much. My heart started to feel troubled the more I tried to think rationally. DAY6 were living here temporally, so all of this would come to an end in a blink of an eye. And yet, I had grown so attached to him already and I couldn’t think about anything else other than him. I kept debating with myself and repeating I didn’t like him like that, I was simply living the moment and having a hell lot of fun.

It was true that everything about Young K became interesting and exciting, he was daring and tempting, but at the same time so tender and caring. I couldn’t decide if he was hot or sweet. Maybe he was both, a salty hot sweet that I was addicted to. I needed to taste him again, to have a better idea of what was going on. And so, I kept telling myself all this was just a physical thing, that all this mess inside my head was due to overexcited hormones. There was nothing to worry about, I wasn’t in love with him and I wasn’t going to fall in love with him. I just enjoyed our time together and I was hoping he did too. I was living a dream, a dangerous one but I couldn’t care less at that moment. I just wanted him and thinking about “whys” and “reasons not to” was too complicated. It was Young K, how could anyone let go of a man like that.

- Ah. You’re in deep shit, Violet. – I whispered to myself before hearing footsteps coming towards the kitchen, I couldn’t avoid smiling when I finally saw him – Morning!

We had a quick chat and I offered him some tea, but of course in result the tea got cold and we got heated after our hands accidentally touched a little.

Our fingers touched slightly when I tried to give him one of the mugs, he gently caressed my soft hand and intertwined our fingers together. My heart skipped as I held my breath and tenderly squeezed his strong hand as he made me go around the table and pulled me into his arms. He played with my curls and made me feel special with his sweetness, but I couldn’t avoid staring at his lips. I missed them. I wanted to taste them so bad and that was probably too obvious because he had a cocky smirk adorning his face.

- Go ahead, kiss me. – he provoked whispering to my ear – You’ve done it before, didn’t you?

I tried to escape his embrace, but he lifted me and made me sit on the table. We both laughed as we remembered our first naughty table kitchen interaction together and even though I was feeling some effects in certain areas from his small teasing already, I remembered I was having an eternal battle with myself literally two seconds ago. I couldn’t fall on his hands that fast. Instead, I tried to tease him and at the same time run away from the real heat. I leaned my head towards him and bit his lower lip as I wrapped my legs around him.

- Sorry, I don’t want to catch your cold. – I said provoking his dangerous eyes.

I kissed his cheek slowly and explored his neck with my lips, creating an erotic sound each time they left his deprived skin. Not sure if I was driving him crazy or myself.

- I think it’s too late to worry about that. – he said pulling me into a greedy kiss – I managed to do all sort of things to you even though I was sick. So, what do you think it’s gonna happen to you when I get back to normal?

- Oh, fuck. – I said almost getting lost in his game.

- You got that fuck part right. – he said more like a promise than a statement, making my body melt.

- No, no, no! Come on. You need to rest. – I said honestly but also trying to run away from the feelings coming from my heart and lower areas.

- I’m pretty sure I slept more than half a day and…

- You’re going to do absolutely nothing today. Let’s go. – I interrupted him and held his hand making him follow me into the living room.

I pushed him to the sofa and he sat there patting the spot next to him suggestively. I rolled my eyes and let a stupid smile appear on my face. I gave him a box filled with DVDs and the remote.

- We have a lot of movies in the house, but if you’re not into any of those we also have Netflix.

Young K sighted and attacked me with the hardest to resist puppy eyes down on history, so I turned around and hurried to the kitchen to get some instant noodles and hot tea. When I got back to him, he had already picked a movie: Shrek. His choice made me laugh but it was a good movie after all, so I couldn’t really tease him about it since I liked it too. I wasn’t sure what he was enjoying more if the movie or the noodles, either way, I gave him my portion. I had just found out I loved to see him eating with such satisfaction. “I meant liked” I corrected my thoughts.

As he enjoyed his relax healing time, I was sitting on the floor against the sofa with my computer resting on the coffee table and trying to write. But I just couldn’t focus. Young K was right behind me, laying on the sofa and playing with my hair now and then, touching my neck from time to time, exactly when I was about to find my concentration. The worst part was that he wasn’t even trying to tease me or making it on purpose, he was simply laying down and caressing me naturally. Torturing me as he paid attention to the movie and let me work “in peace”. I closed my laptop and let my head fall back on the sofa as I closed my eyes and sighed in frustration. I wanted him so bad I couldn’t even breathe properly, it was suffocating. I felt his lips against my forehead and when I opened my eyes I saw the most beautiful smile adorned by the cutest dimples. I forgot how to breathe as I got lost in his deep brown eyes and he leaned his lips towards mine. He kissed me with his divine lips and made me part mine as he explored the inside of my mouth with his craving tongue. I could feel my body being invaded by a euphoric sensation as we deepened the kiss. And when I was about to climb to the sofa, driven in expectant lust, Young K held my chin in his hand and made me wake up from his kiss.

- I think I’m distracting you. – he said running his finger through my hair.

- Distract me… – I almost begged instead of questioning his words.

- I’m kinda bored. – he laughed biting his lips as he got up.

- What? – I said confused and panicking as I saw him go towards the stairs.

- Just do your thing. – he said in what seemed to be a nervous tone and rushed to the second floor.

I just stood there looking around trying to figure out what just happened. “Bored?” weren’t we about to stop the boredom? We were! And he just run away from me.

My heart was beating too fast and my body temperature was way too high just from a little kiss. How dared him? Setting me on fire and go away like that. Actually, how was he able to do that, was I the only one who wanted more? I felt my hands shake as I thought of the possibility of him being tired of me already. Maybe, I made things go too slow and he was tired of waiting for some real action. But, everything about us seemed to be… something! And I honestly thought he was enjoying the way things were going, too. I laid on the sofa and buried my face against the pillows, biting them and trying to hide my frustrating screams.

I rushed to the toilet to refresh my face with cold water. As I stared at the mirror and I could barely recognise myself. I saw a flushed girl with insatiable lewd eyes filled with desire as the water drops run through her skin, I saw a girl with tender and puffy lips that looked like they were ready to devour her lover and take him to places not even she knew about. I saw with my own eye the effect he inflicted on me. I was scared but the thirst for him was too greedy and the idea of taking him was too tempting. What was I even sacred about? Falling in love with him? I wasn’t a silly teenager girl, romance only worked out in my books, not in my life. I had nothing to worry about, as long as I was careful and didn’t let my romantic side take over. So, I dried my face and let go of all my fears and let my eager needs assume control as they filled me with fake confidence. I rushed upstairs with my accelerated heart and gasping breaths. I knocked at his door twice and nothing happened, no response. I opened the door slowly hesitant to find an empty and messy boys’ shared room.

- Where the hell did he g… – I try to say when I suddenly felt Young K’s hands covering my eyes and his body rubbed against mine from behind, making me gasp.

- Hi. – he said breathing against my ear – So, are you busy right now? – he asked kissing my neck and sending shivers down my spine.

- N-no. Not really… – I said as I tried to make him uncover my eyes.

- Tsk, wait a second. – Young K said as he guided me out of his room.

He opened a door and I could tell by the red berries aroma that we were in my room, but something felt different than usual. The aroma was much stronger and warmer, creating an intense seductive tucking feeling that teased my skin and immersed my senses in a suggestive erotic atmosphere. His hands fell on my shoulders and when I opened my eyes I saw the candles I normally use as decoration burning and gleaming the room with a promise of an inflaming passion. The frail sunlight coming through the window was faint and blunt which made the melting fire of the candles seem even more intense, creating a romantic and daring scene around them. It was simply beautiful.

Young K ’s breaths were irregular and penetrating. My body trembled in the assumption of his touch before I felt his arms embracing me from behind.

- What is all this? – I asked nervously and almost in a whisper.

- I was just… yeah… hmm, bored. – he said struggling to find his words and exploring my neck with his devilish tongue – You’ve been working for so long and… – he bit my earlobe and spin me around to make me face him.

When our eyes met, my throat gulped involuntarily making me search desperately for air in the next second. His eyes were reflecting the candle’s flames, as they burnt my soul with the passion hidden within them. My knees failed when he came closer and grabbed my waist possessively as he held my chin with his other hand.

- Violet. – he groaned as he bit his lip – I want you so fucking bad.

Young K ’s words were like blazing whispers on my body, everything around me became secondary and I could only see him. I felt my cheeks burning as I kept staring at his beautiful face, his gazes were carnal and they were devouring my soul, creating an agitated lustful tremble at the end of my loins that begged to be explored and relieved. His head tilted slightly as he waited for any sign of my approval and a sweet smile invaded his face when I patted my loud heart nervously.

- Are you nervous? Me too. – Young K asked knowing the answer to his question as he kissed my forehead and then stared at my lips – Why did you go to my room for?

- I wanted to tell you something. – I said as he held my face in his hands and started to make me walk backwards in direction of my bed.

- Yeah? – He asked as my legs bumped against my bed and his body against mine – And what was that?

- I… was going to tell you to fuck me. – I said falling on the mattress as I sat down and looked up at him expectant.

Young K smirked and bit his bottom lip as he looked down to me, he slowly took off his shirt revealing his breath-taking delicious torso. He seemed strong before when he had a shirt on, but now that I could see his bare upper body I was left with no words. He surely wasn’t the most buffed guy on the planet, but every single detail was simply amazing and tempting, his muscles were exactly the perfect amount and so well drawn. And even though, I was taking my sweet time to admire all that top view, my eyes couldn’t help but go lower and lower. The huge bulge forming inside his pants was captivating all my attention and it didn’t let me assimilate properly all the view that was before me. I gasped not knowing exactly where to look and then my heart jumped when Young K, who was still standing, grabbed my hand and made me feel his sturdy chest, making it go gradually down to explore his delightful abdomen that stiffened with my trembling touch, and down, and down, and down… until his grip around my wrist tightened as my hand rubbed against his thick erection hidden under his clothes. I unconsciously covered my mouth with my free hand trying to suppress a soft escaping moan as I bit my index finger with the excitement. He groaned at my reaction crawling into bed and pushing me down against the pillows as his hardness was pressed between my legs driving me crazy as I craved for his naked touch.

Young K involved me in a deep kiss that made my stomach explode between wild butterflies and lewd needs. The wet erotic noises our lips produced as we explored each other mouths made my walls tighten at each movement we took, making it almost impossible to bear with the lack of penetration at that moment. As his hand travelled down my side, a wave of shivers was sent through my muscles making my feet curl with the intense sensation he was drowning me in. He abruptly stopped kissing me, making me dizzy with the absent of his tender lips against mine. My body trembled under his when Young K took my hoodie off and threw it to the floor as my sensitive skin was invaded by the room temperature. He explored my tummy with his hard, talented bassist fingers, tracing my skin with a soft touch that made me twist and trust my hips against his hard member. I scratched his back as I held him in my arms and pulled his lips to mine, biting them as I heard a deep groan coming from his dry throat.

Young K took my leggings off without interrupting our kiss as I kicked his pants off with my foot. I wrapped my legs around his waist and arched up, rubbing my wet still covered core against his tight black boxers. He rubbed his hard-on against my clit making me gasp in despair as I hugged him tighter and tried to consul myself with his kisses. I felt his hands exploring my back as he tried to reach my bra closure and prudently got rid of it. His left hand soon groped my breast, making him give in on his self-control as he eagerly trusted his hips between my legs. I broke the kiss, desperately searching for air with the sudden impact of our bodies colliding together. I saw him biting his lip as he greedily stared at my boobs and teased one of my rosy nipples. Young K dug his face in my neck and kissed it passionately, making me moan loudly with the sensation. And then he stopped brusquely making my body go into shock from the unexpected cut of attention. He looked at me with horror craved in his eyes.

- Fuck. – he swore which seemed to be directed to himself – I forgot something. – he said desperately as he hid his face against my neck curve.

In other circumstances, I would’ve laughed at his devastated expression and disappointed tone. But, I was too drunk in lust to even consider doing that, so I stretched my arm under him and tried to reach my bedside table. Young K released the pressure his body was imposing on mine when he noticed I was trying to move under him. I was, then, finally able to open one of the drawers and searched with my right hand its insides. It didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for. He looked really surprised and even more curious when I took a small glass jar that said “Use in case of a miracle”.

- I got you. – I said as I took a condom from the jar, placing it back in the drawer.

- I have so many questions. – he said with a large smile on his face.

- Hmm, so do you have any preference? I chose one random…ly – I tried to say but his lips cut me off as he untied my hair and kissed me passionately.

- I couldn’t care less at this point, Violet. – Young K said as he took the condom from my hand and made me tremble when he pronounced my name.

Young K got rid of his boxers and stood on his knees as he ripped the condom’s wrapper with his teeth, making me end up squeezing my legs with the erotic performance. I could feel his gaze on me, but I couldn’t help but stare as he stroked his huge manhood to lubricate it with his own precum before making the condom unroll all the way down on his dick. He stroked his length up and down as he crawled back to me, placing himself on top. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, so I could kiss him. I kissed him like never before, tasting every single detail of his heavenly lips as I got lost in him. But he interrupted our fervent kiss holding his breath staring at me, he caressed my cheek as he was about to say something when I rose up my hips and rubbed my wet core against his flinching member and made his words vanish into a loud groan. He seemed like he was about to say something that would’ve touched my heart, I couldn’t let that happen and that was why I desperately provoked his fleshy desires in hope he wouldn’t let his kindness and gentleman side surface. I wouldn’t stand a change if he did.

For my luck, he gave up on verbalising and grabbed my neck as he kissed me vigorously. His hands travelled down my aroused body to get rid of my panties and by the loud sound that quick move had made, I was sure he tore them apart. His fingers caressed my wet core, sending trembling shivers up and down my body with the soft touch. He started fingering me, in hope to stretch me enough before giving me the real thing but I couldn’t bear with his teasing anymore, I needed him to fill up the emptiness that screamed for him at the end of my loins. As though, I knew how skilled his rough fingers were from the previous day, I needed way more than that and so, I shook my head not being sure if I could handle what I was asking for and whispered:

- No more fingers. Yesterday was more than enough. I want this – I grabbed his dick giving it a generous squeeze and rubbed it between my folds, making my own voice almost disappear – here.

Although, he hid his face against my neck, I could feel him smirk as his breath became unsteady. Young K pulled up one of my legs slowly, exploring my smooth skin as he pleased, then he aligned his throbbing member at my entrance making me die from the expectance of connecting our bodies together. He gradually trusted his thick cock inside me, pushing in killingly slow and going deeper inside as he stretched my walls, making me sink in pleasure with the sudden thrilling sensation that attacked me as my body shivered and got lost under his rough domain. Young K bit my shoulder groaning as he adjusted himself to my tight grip around his big dick, letting me at the same time get used to his deep invasion. After agonizing seconds that the lack of movement made seem hours, he started moving teasing me as he pushed in, making me whimper and moan in despair at the empty space he left me with each time he dragged his length out leisurely. Then, as if his own teasing got the best of him, he pushed it back in harder, deeper and hungerly whispering in my ear things I couldn’t comprehend, but I was sure I caught my name leaving his devilish lips. His voice was such a sweet sound, making me even more aroused. He didn’t take long to start moving in a steadily, dropping his teasing to be guided by his own lustful needs, making me follow his pace as I rose my hips, eager for a deeper burn.

We got lost in each other’s touch for God knows how long. Our bodies were connected for an eternal moment that seemed to be fed with our long hungry lewd desires for one another. Finally, allowing ourselves to be truthful about our craving needs as we just stood there trembling, rushing, seeking and exploring our tangible and intangible feelings. With my room overflowing with our passion and burning thirst, I felt myself closer and closer to explode as Young K drove me crazy with his lustful skills. As I compulsively moaned against his ears and made him groan as my walls tightened around his energetic growth making him growl in desperate pleasure. He placed his forehead against mine as he slammed his dick even deeper, discovering the perfect spot inside of me and making me grab the bed sheets, hopeless for control over my own body.

- It’s okay, princess. – Young K said against my lips in a husky voice – Let go…

With his eyes holding mine and making the sensations twice as impactful, I could feel my entire existence being shaken in an electrical pleasure which had been stocked for too long inside me and that explosively melted over his member, sending uncontrollable thrilling waves from my head to my toes. A fade smirk hidden in his own moans pricked my pride as he made me come so hard.

I sighted satisfied and trying to regain my strength as the feeling of my orgasm wore off slowly, really slowly, since Mr. Young K was teasing me with his member as he pulled it in and out, rubbing it on my clit now and then, reminding my body of the pleasure he inflicted in me.

- God! You’re so beautiful. – He rasped staring at me adoringly as he pushed his member in deeper with a rough movement, making me moan as I scratched his shoulders. – And so needy… – he whispered against my lips before kissing them.

Gaining back my energy as we kissed, toying with each other’s tongues and not being sure if for my own pleasure or if I just wanted to desperately see him come as well, I made us roll over and stood on top of him not allowing his member to slip out. I screamed as my pussy clamped around his dick that went deeper than before because of the position we changed into, my insides still sensitive and impossibly tight around him. I slammed my hands against the wall as I started to ride Young K, trying to find the strength to take control of the situation, but he just felt too good. I couldn’t even control my movements properly, at least that was what I thought until he buried his nails on my skin as he grabbed my hips madly pushing me impossibly lower.

- Fuck! – Young K said as his voice cracked from his heavy breaths and I softly run my hand over my breasts, biting my lip trying to tease him as he slightly lifted his chin in a vulnerable motion, almost giving in into pleasure.

I kept bouncing on his lap, filling the atmosphere with quaking wet noises as our bodies slapped together. I could feel his dick twisting deep inside me and the way he bit his lower lips and closed his eyes, let me know he was at the very edge. Seeing him like that made me even more excited and my pussy got tighter as I analysed his erotic reactions.

- Ah, you’re killing me! – Young K said as he pulled me to his lips, but I stood on my arms with my hands against the mattress, preventing him from kissing me and making him groan in a lustful agony.

- I wanna see your coming face. Just like you saw mine. – I said as I speeded up, not sure if I could last much longer without orgasming again – So, come for your princess. Will you?

I felt his hard dick harden, whipping loud moans from us both. He soon frenetically burst into his own orgasm and made me get lost in mine once again, as I cherished his powerful feelings evading his manly features. I placed my hands against his firm belly as I eagerly tried to ride our pleasure to its fullest, but taking advantage of my momentary weakness, Young K pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply as we let our climax involve us, with it leisurely dying within our gasps.

My trembling body collapsed harshly on top of him, I listened to his accelerated heart as my ear rested on his chest and I tried to collect myself from that crazy ride. Whining as I slid off of him and laid my back on the mattress in a soft moan, which left me with a tormenting empty feeling as our bodies disconnected.

We kept staring at the ceiling for a few minutes and let our unsteady breaths take over the atmosphere around us. It was silent but still comfortable, the only thing I could hear was my loud heart in my ears. We’ve just done it and I swore I could go for another round right away; Young K was amazing and every single place he had touched was still burning and begging to feel him again. My head was empty, my heart full and my body electrified.

The silence was broken when he laughed and laid on his side staring at me. His smile was even prettier than before. If I knew I could make him smile like that, I would’ve let him fuck me right from the beginning.

Young K bit his tongue and then his lips as he caressed my face and gifted me with shining eyes. I thought I saw his cheeks getting invaded by a slight red tone as he stared at me, making my heart skip. I tried to run away from his eyes and looked somewhere else, but he held my hand against his heart and made me look at him.

- Do you feel that? – Young K asked with his accelerated heart beating against my nervous hand – I’m the same. You make me nervous too. – he said as he stole a small kiss from me – And you sure as hell know how to make me feel good, too… – he said as he licked my lips – So good.

For some weird reason, I felt proud of myself and jumped at him hugging him really tightly. I rested my face against his strong chest and played with my fingers on his muscular arm.

- So so so so so good. – I whispered kissing his chest.

- I know, right? I’m pretty good. – Young K said in a teasing tone as he played with my hair – I mean, how many times did I make you come? I think I lost count.

- Shut up! How about you? Made you pretty wild back there! – I said biting him.

- Ouch, yes yes you did. Have mercy on me, princess! – he laughed and made my heart skip again – But tell me honestly. How long has it been since you had sex?

- What? Why? – I panicked.

Young K laughed and made us roll over in bed, so he was on top of me. He grabbed my chin and kissed my jawline, tracing kisses down my neck to my collar bone.

- You have a jar filled with condoms to the top. I just guessed you haven’t been using them. – he said giving me a smooch and then biting my earlobe as he whispered – And you were so tight, baby. Just thinking about it makes me get hard again.

I probably looked like I wanted him to get hard and fuck me endlessly, since, once he looked me back in the eyes his face was invaded by a surprised smirk and his expression looked triumphant.

- Well, you know… the jar is full. We can do this all day long. – Young K said breaking into a huge laugh – Oh, god. I’m so sorry but you’re so easy to read when you’re horny.

I threw a pillow at him and tried to kick him off the bed but instead, he kissed me deeply letting a soft groan escape his mouth.

- I love that. When you groan… drives me crazy. – I confessed to him.

- Make me groan, princess. We got a lot of condoms so you ca…

- God, damn it. Leave the jar alone! – I interrupted him messing up his soft hair.

- What’s up with the jar, tell me honestly. – he said as he reached for it and shook it in the air.

- My older brother gave it to me on my last birthday to mock me. – I said annoyed but thinking this situation was indeed a miracle.

- When’s your birthday? – he asked curiously.

- On March. – I replied kissing his cheek.

Young K cuddled up to me from behind as he kissed my shoulder and intertwined our hands together.

- So, you probably haven’t had sex for way longer than 8 months. Otherwise, the jar wouldn’t be full and second, your brother wouldn’t have shown such a deep concern about this subject. – he let out a low scream when I kicked him for his words.

- Stop talking! – I said more as a desperate request than a threat.

- I love talking to you, though. – He admitted whispering into my ear.

- Then... then talk…

Young K made me face him and kissed me tenderly, sucking my bottom lip before staring at my eyes.

- Hmm… what’s your cat’s name? – he asked playing with my curls.

- Oh, getting to know each other after sex. So cute. – I laughed – Clawsome. Claw plus awesome: Clawsome.

- It’s called pillow talk, I guess. – he said as he kissed my neck and hugged me tighter – Clawsome? What kind of name is that? I thought a writer would name her cat as Shakespeare or Romeo. – he said between laughs – Are you a living meme?

- What? How many writers do you even know? – I asked faking my offence tone.

- Well, I write songs. Does that count? – Young K asked biting my earlobe.

- What? Please, how hard can it be to write less than 500 words? – I managed to say but then got nervous and lost track of my thoughts as he kept touching me tenderly – Wait actually, how do you manage to do that? It sounds so hard, how can you express yourself so well with just a few words?

- What? – he asked confused and entertained – You realise you were trying to mock me and just got distracted while complimenting me?

- No, I mean… it’s amazing. The lyrics are really beautiful. How can you do it? They’re all so meaningful. – I ended up saying without realising.

- I guess I have a talent when it comes to saying a lot with not much. – he said intensely and making my heart explode – But some people just won’t listen.

- Really? T-th-hey should. You have a beautiful voice. – I replied making him snort with my nervous behaviour.

- That’s not what I meant… right – he sighted and stared at me – So you like my voice, should I sing into your ears?

- I’ve just listened to the entire soundtrack of your groaning low moans. I don’t think you can beat that. – I said making him freeze as he locked me in his deep gaze.

Young K took a deep breath and smiled lewdly before leaning towards my lips. I run my hands all over his hard body, feeling his muscles under my soft skin, making him groan deeply now and then. As I wrapped my legs around him, I could feel my still soaked inner tights making our skins slid easier as we kept seeking for a tighter grip in each other’s arms. And when the temperature started to rise once again, we heard loud noises coming and people talking from downstairs: DAY6 had arrived home.

I had never seen someone put on clothes so fast as Young K did. Even though, he tripped over a few times, I still found him sexy as I saw him clumsily getting dressed.

- Your number. – he gasped as he took his phone from his pocket and threw it at me – Hurry!

I couldn’t stop smiling and worked really hard not to laugh, it was like we were some teenagers and the parents got home earlier than expected. My heart was racing, and I had no clue if it was due to our circumstances or… because of him. I called myself from his phone and then hang up, giving him his phone back.

- I love – he searched for words and gesticulates with his hands towards me and him – this. Whatever this is.

He run towards my room’s door and my heart felt heavy as I saw his back growing distant from me. And then he suddenly turned back and rushed to kiss me one last time.

- We’re gonna do this again. – he said as he stared at the jar on my bedside table.

As he closed the door I could hear his heavy footsteps going down the stairs and Jae ’s loud screams. My phone buzzed and I quickly unlocked it to see the notification with my heart in my hands. I sighted disappointed when I checked it was Kim Jii (big bro):

Bro: Hey, you’re home? Come eat dinner with us.

Me: I’m a bit tired tho… and I need to work.

I certainly didn’t want to face everyone after what I’ve just done. I was afraid I would have something written on my forehead like “hey she just got banged by Young K ”. My phone vibrated again:

Bro: are you working, rn?

Me: YES. I AM, SIR.

Bro: Your laptop is here in the living room, tho. If you want me not to question about how red Young K’s cheeks are rn and pretend it’s from the cold he doesn’t seem to have anymore, come down and eat a decent meal with us. IHIHIH

Me: Alright. Give me just a sec…

Bro: Don’t tell me you have to put some clothes on, or something? *dies in shock, texting from his grave* ~ ~

I picked some large sweatpants and slid inside them after cleaning myself with a clean wet towel, “I need a shower as soon as possible”. I tried to find a warm extra-large hoodie that would scream “She did not have sex today or ever in her lifetime”. I brushed my hair with my fingers and tied it up as tidy as I could. With all my calmness, I went downstairs and greeted everyone as they all welcomed me with kind smiles.

Surprisingly, dinner went well and no big drama surfaced. Everything was quite relaxing and fun with the company of my two annoying brothers and the band. I meant, of course, I had to deal with my big brother’s provoking smile now and then, but I couldn’t care less as long as he kept his mouth shut and didn’t alarm the little one. Since DAY6 were the ones who paid for the takeout dinner, I volunteered to do the dishes. To be honest, I never felt so happy whilst washing some dirty dishes. Though, I would have to admit I took much longer than usual because I kept dreaming about what happened just a few hours before, in my room. After I was done with the kitchen I went to my room that still smelled like him and jumped to the bed I had just shared with Young K as I hugged a pillow. I could feel myself falling asleep in his still so vivid scent when my phone lit up the darkness in my room. I sleepily reached my hand to it and my heart burst into billions of butterflies in my stomach.

[23:45] Young K: Sleep tight, Princess.

[23:48] Me: Goodnight, I’ll see you in your dreams.

[00:09] Young K: You’re probably sleeping already but, I just wanted to let you know… We’re gonna empty that jar of yours.

[00:11] Young K: ❤️

[00:20] Me: 🦊❤️

[00:21] Me: ❤️❤️*

Masterlist & Chapters: Check my bio for the masterlist link.

A/N: Sorry for taking long to update. I hope it was worth the wait! Hope you enjoyed this chap <3 Love, Sweet Little Bird.

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thedistantstorm · 6 years

Text

Fever

Steelponcho + Zavala x Hawthorne + The Farm + Sick!Suraya + Concerned!Zavala + ALL THE FEELINGS + Cayde bailing because poker + Continues from First Aid

-----+++++-----

She's been feeling woozy for a few days now. It's nothing she hasn't dealt with before; It's just a cold. She keeps away from everyone as best she can, tries to stay hydrated, and attempts to wait it out.

The weather has been wet and cold, raining non stop. Her poncho is waterproof enough, but it's not a tarp - despite what Cayde says. She coughs into the crook of her elbow. Her head feels like it's full of cotton, and her throat is sore and scratchy. But, the comms pick up a report of Fallen in the vicinity, and they're stretched pretty thin, so it looks like she's got work to do.

It takes most of the day to track down the group of dregs in the surrounding forest. The rain provided decent cover for both friend and foe, thundering down without pause. She eventually got the lot of them, miles away from the Farm but still wholly threatening. The walk back was the hard part. Her addled brain was having a hard time determining if it were hot or cold, and if she turned her head too quick, she felt like the ground was coming up to greet her.

A couple times, she leans against a tree for a minute, just one, to gather her bearings. It makes no sense to her how she returns after dark.

-----+++++-----

He absolutely won't admit that he's worried. Cayde his giving him The Look™ and has waggled his eyes suspiciously at least four times since they've decided to sit at the fire pit on the southernmost edge of the Farm. He keeps looking in the direction of the trees, listening intently, just in case anyone needs help.

Not because Suraya Hawthorne left this morning on patrol and has not A) checked in, or B) returned, and it has been nearly ten hours.

“She can take care of herself, Zavala,” Cayde says precisely when Zavala suspects his brows knit together with yet more worry. “Relax.”

He covers his right arm with his left hand, feels for the healed injury there. The scar is soft and a shade of pale blue that blends in with his skin. He likes the reminder, even if he isn't thrilled that he has the scar in the first place. She insists it will fade out of existence, anyway, with time.

There's a hoarse, chest-rattling wheeze from the west, and the sound of footsteps come from one of the beaten paths. Whomever it is, they are stumbling. He sees the glint of a familiar barrel as Suraya Hawthorne drops her rifle and pack indiscriminately on the ground in the rain and sways toward the fire. The fire pit is sheltered enough by the trees that it's relatively dry.

“Heeeey, guys,” She slurs and Cayde sniggers, shaking his head.

“You have one too many, Poncho? I thought you were out on patrol.”

To Cayde's right, Zavala is fighting the tight feeling in his gut that screams something is wrong.

She laughs, and it's a weird sound, like she finds Cayde far funnier than he has any right to be. Then, abruptly, she looks around, like she's just woke up from a crazy dream.

“Is…” She looks unsure, blinking slowly as she looks toward the fire, “it hot or is it just me?”

Zavala stands, meaning to approach her where she is just under the canopy of trees.

“Hawthorne, you have been in the elements all day. Are you alright?”

There’s a bit of a delay, but she makes a sound between a scoff and blowing a raspberry. Cayde’s eyebrow plates creep up towards his horn at an alarming rate. “Yeahhh, 'm fiiiine,” She waves a hand. “Jus’ hot.” There's another shuffle forward, less productive, and then another cough.

And oh, that cough. It makes his chest hurt just hearing it. “Hawthorne?”

Her head whips in his direction and he sees her eyes clear for the slightest of seconds... right before they roll back into her head and her body crumples.

Lightning fast reflexes allow him to catch her before she lands in the wet grass. Her lashes flicker and her eyes try to open again, but to no avail. He can feel the heat rolling off of her in waves, through the non-metal parts of his gear. It seems like a bad sign, considering she's wearing rain-soaked clothing that should be chilled like the air around them.

“Cayde,” The Titan hisses, “Fetch someone to evaluate her, now.”

The Exo perks up at the order, running toward the tent village that makes up the majority of the Farm like his life depends on it. The Awoken shifts her weight and tucks his left arm under her knees so he can carry her inside where it is warm and dry.

He realizes when he gets her inside the otherwise unoccupied farmhouse that he has to get her out of her wet clothing. Despite priding himself on cool professionalism, something about propping her body against his while he attempts to disrobe her makes him sweat. He bites his lip with no one coherent around to see it, and endures. First the poncho, which falls to the floor with a wet squelch, then he lays her back on the bed and attempts to remove wet socks and boots. She begins to stir, and he hopes he can get her awake enough to prevent him from having to complete this task for her.

Above him, it's like someone flipped the lights on in her brain, and Zavala barely dodges her foot as she tries to kick him. He recoils and rises to his full height, regarding her warily.

“Hawthorne, you are ill,” He says, palms low and out in a measure like he's trying to tell a wild animal not to bite. “You need to get out of those wet clothes.”

She looks down and blinks several times. The fog in her brain temporarily recedes. “I - wait, what're you doing here? How did I get back?”

His eyes widen. Without asking for her permission, he puts his hand against her forehead, humming a concerned note at just how hot her forehead is. He doesn't comment on the fact that her eyes slip closed in blissful relief when he does. “How long have you been sick?”

“Mmm…” She flops her hand around. “Couple days. But I'm fine. Totally okay.”

Instead of answering, he offers her a hand to pull herself upright, and she does so teetering precariously. He quirks a brow at her and she frowns.

“If you were really okay,” He says when she cants forward, catching her with a hand on each of her deltoids, “You wouldn't have fainted.” The words are quiet and full of mirth, and he thinks she might be out again until she looks up at him, blushing spectacularly, since she was absolutely not that red a minute ago.

“Don't tell me I fainted into your arms like some damsel in distress,” She says meekly. Her eyes are glossy and fever-touched, but there's something else in them, too. Something trusting. “It's just a cold.”

The slightest upturn of his lips has her scowling. He chuckles, “Despite how Cayde would tell it, you fainted without discretion for who would catch you, if anyone. Your dignity is still intact.” His eyes flick up to hers, and she sees a playful streak in them that she wants to hold onto, the voice of reason telling her no, not to instigate the one falling prey to the fever. “I will defend your honor, milady,” Zavala kneels, one hand over his heart like some knight (she wonders if are they glorified Titans or if it’s the other way around) and she shorts, trying not to giggle. “But Cayde, sadly…”

“Y’know, for a miserable bastard, that smile of yours is kind of charming. Tell anyone I said that,” She coughs, “And I’ll tell them I was delirious. Because I’m pretty sure I am if I think your mug is somethin’ special.” She shivers and the moment breaks, his concern winning out over banter.

Zavala tuts, and his fingers reach for the hem of her shirt. “Arms up,” He whispers. She is too tired to argue and complies. He peels the wet garment from her. She shivers, goosebumps dotting down bronze arms. He rubs them gently once her shirt joins her poncho on the floor.

Suraya manages to get the belt and buttons of her pants undone, without much difficulty, while Zavala returns to untying her boots. He hooks two fingers into her belt loops and tugs and literally looks anywhere but at her because he is still flesh and bone and she is wild and free and hips and thighs and Traveler take him, he is doomed.

Only one flimsy pair of black underwear and a brutally abused chest plate remain. The effort is having an effect on her though, and she knows it. “There should be clothes in that trunk,” She says, between coughing fits. “Just grab whatever.”

It only takes him a second to locate the trunk in the corner with a paltry collection of clothes belonging to the woman. He grabs the first pair of underwear and shirt he sees, not wanting to be accused of being some pervert snooping around in her things.

She takes the underwear first, and Zavala hastily retreats to the hallway before her sickness-addled brain decides she should strip bare in front of him, which, it seems, she was ready to do. Not that there's much privacy in this wayward camp, or it's anything he hasn't seen before, but something about this is different and he really cannot afford to think on why that is right this second.

Cayde’s voice crackles over the local comms, and the Commander is immediately thankful for the choice he's made. He almost blushes at the thought of the Hunter catching them in such a compromising state.

“Sorry to put you in such a bind, amigo,” Cayde calls, “Buuuut, there’s a bit of an emergency situation over here at the triage station. Some lady is giving birth. Sounds horrible. But, all the medics are occupied. They said to make sure she rests and give her a fever reducer. And then, y’know, call them if she can’t breathe or something. Poncho should be totally fine, she’s just overdoing it - sound like anyone else we know? Ring any bells? Ah well. Have fun fussin’ over her. I’m definitely going to go work on Vanguard Stuff and definitely not join the poker tournament happening in the barn. Smooches!”

The connection cuts before Zavala can get a word in edgewise, and he grumbles under his breath. At least if Ikora were here, she’d have actual assistance. He doesn’t even know what her temperature is. Certainly there’s some matrix for medication and time or something, he feels like he can remember that from early on in the City Age, when the refugees were coming in…

“Uh, Zavala?”

The tentative tone shakes him from his thoughts, and he returns to her room. “Hawthorne, Cayde said-” All the air leaves his lungs as if she’d punched him in the gut. She’s laying on the bed, panting with exertion from trying to undo the corset style ties that cinch her chest guard onto her frame.

She squirms. He does his damnedest to keep his eyes on her face and not on the expanse of toned muscle and creamy skin between panties and the guard, or the heaving of her chest. If he’s being honest, the flush on her cheeks that travels down to - nope, not a safe topic either.

“Okay. I know I’m the worst,” She all but moans in discomfort, “But I started undoing it and I knotted it somehow this morning because I was too sick to give a shit and now I don’t have the energy to figure it out, and I can’t tie it back up without stabbing myself in the side with one of the broken pieces.” She points out the slivers of boning that are jabbing her in the side along her ribcage. It very obviously needs replacing. Her eyes are pleading. “Help.”

That wistful not-smile is back and he shakes his head very minutely. “Remember how you called me the mess?”

She sighed. “I’m the mess. Is that what you want to hear?”

“It does help,” He replies, taking the two steps necessary to bring him beside the bed. “I am just unlacing the ties?”

“Yeah.” She shifts and sits up, to give him room to work with. He gulps silently as he sees the valley between her breasts come into view. She did say she was able to loosen it somewhat, he recalls as he forces himself to look away.

“This isn’t some rouse to seduce me, is it?” He asks, sinking onto the mattress behind her and evaluating the tangle of strap and ties.

“Yes. I got myself sick so I could throw myself at you,” She drawls sarcastically as he works out the knot. “Seriously though. If I was trying to seduce you, don’t you think I’d be telling you to call me Suraya instead of Hawthorne? Make it a little more personal?”

“True,” He concedes, his breath on her neck. With the knot free, the main closure gapes a little, and his fingers graze her side as he unfurls the cording. Light, is her skin soft. “But I think it’s working, Suraya.”

He knows he doesn’t imagine her gasp.

One hand goes to the center of her chest, holding the armor in place to prevent any accidental exposure, and she rolls over to her knees to look at him. “Zavala,” She warns.

He closes his eyes and berates himself. Idiot, he thinks to himself. “Forgive me,” He says. “I should not have-”

Her thumb grazes his lip. It’s so gentle he can’t help but press his lips into the caress, turn his head into her open palm. Her chest tightens from something that isn’t a cough she’s holding back.

“We can’t,” She tells him, firmly, pulling away. She knows how it looks, in her underwear, practically splayed out in front of him. Sick or not. Neither of them can afford this weakness, and she knows it. They are the very antithesis of each other. “This can’t happen. I... I’m sorry.”

“No apology necessary, Hawthorne,” He says, face blanker than she’d ever seen. It hurts more than she expected it to. “You require rest to get well. I will send someone to bring you a fever reducer and leave you to it.”

“Zavala, I-”

He gets up immediately, heading for the door. A white-blue hand clenches over the trim of the door frame, and he turns like he wants to say something different, maybe even argue with her, but he only sighs.

“Feel better.”

#steelponcho #zavala x hawthorne #commander zavala #suraya hawthorne #destiny fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction

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suchthingbutnever · 7 years

Text

Weird Time Travel Sends 21st Century Hipster Jon To The Wall (a.k.a., what I did at 3 A.M. last month)

So, this was an idea I had in the middle of the fucking night and I literally sat up and wrote five pages before I went back to sleep. It's Hipster!Jon navigating Westeros , maybe with Robb somehwere in there. Ahem.

It was absolutely fucking freezing when he woke up.

For a couple moments Jon remained where he was, refusing to open his eyes. He had one hell of a headache pounding away viciously at his temples, echoing the base of the pretentious minimalist techno they had played at the second flat party.

“Fuuuck,” he said with a croaky voice, laughing a little bit at himself. How was it so effin’ cold?

The heating had been broken for maybe a month now, and Jon had been too busy and, admittedly, also too lazy, to have someone come fix it. It was always easier to pile on layers and retreat into the cavern he called his bed, Netflix at the ready for another five episodes of Breaking Bad.

It wasn’t like any of his flat-mates were keen on the job, either. Leah had even said something along the lines of the seven degrees Celsius in their kitchen being romantic. She was crazy, that one.

“It’s fucking freezing,” he said to himself out loud, and sweet mother Mary’s G-string, his joints felt stiff. London wasn’t supposed to get this cold – foggy, yes, wet and uncomfortable as fuck, yes. He was born and bred in Yorkshire, for that he had been more than prepared.

But not this unforgiving, semi-arctic cold.

He opened his eyes, and blinked a few times. Then he closed them again, squeezing them shut and counting until nine and three-quarters.

Then he sat up abruptly, taking in the… the, room? Was it a room? Or a dingy cupboard? It seemed like he hadn’t made it home yesterday after all. Damn Haz and his fucking penchant for cocktails. Jon was usually more than good at holding his alcohol – hmm, so maybe he had overestimated himself. Too much booze could really mess with a lad.

“Oh fuckity fuck, it’s cold.”

He was sitting on a narrow single bed, with a really shitty mattress, and the blankets that had covered him appeared to be fur. Real animal fur, maybe like, from a bear? Or something else brown and shiny. They smelled really musky, which, ew.

Now that was just absolutely disgusting. Jon knew for sure that most of the people he ran with were at least flexible vegetarians.

He stared at the rest of the room in disbelief – housing in London was godawful, alright, but this was just way below acceptable. Jon wouldn’t rent the room even if they gave it to him for free, with a flat-screen TV on top.

Well, he’d say no after thinking about it really hard, at least. Living space was damned expensive, you could hardly blame him.

However he got here, wherever this godforsaken place was (probably way in the outskirts, so he’d have to get a bus to get to the tube), he needed to hightail it back to his own flat, because his thesis was still sitting in his laptop, waiting to be written, re-written and deleted. He really shouldn’t have gotten so drunk, fucking Haz and his uncontrollable dance-drive after three pints.

Jon started patting around for his clothes, especially his jeans. He really needed to find his phone and call Haz and maybe Ian, so he could find out where the fuck they had ended up. Also, Robb had texted him last night, at three in the morning, and Jon had almost flipped and texted him right back.

“Are you mad, ey? When was it ever a good idea to text your straight-boy crush back drunk off yer arse?” Ian, in his violet leotard and his scary going-out-tonight heels had stolen his phone away, laughing when Jon tripped over a beer bottle trying to get it back. Of course, now he was really thankful that his friends had prevented him from destroying the weird, tentative thing he had with pretty straight-boy Robb, as they all started calling him.

“PSBR”, for short.

Jon let out a frustrated growl, because his clothes from last night – a dark blue shirt, his favorite black jeans that made his arse “a subject of worship”, quote Ian, and whatever the hell he had bothered to put on underneath, all of it was gone. Instead, he was wearing a really scratchy linen top that looked way beyond the usual levels of organic.

And it was still really, really awfully cold.

He padded towards the rustic wooden door, complete with iron hinges, noting how rough the stone beneath his feet was. Pushing it open with difficulty, he found himself in yet another way-too-dark room, this one larger and stuffed with scrolls and old-looking leather-bound books, the type Leah used for her expensive medieval fantasy Cosplay. A fire was burning in one corner, a real fucking fire built from logs of wood and twigs that made cracking noises.

“I see you are feeling well again, my boy?”

“Holy fuckin’ Jesus Christ!” Jon jumped so high he might have crashed against the narrow ceiling of the strange place. Behind him stood a man, an old man so crinkled and wizened he was a whole head smaller than Jon. He was wearing a fur robe, long and jet-black, while around his neck hung a weird chain, each link a subtle, different colour. It actually looked really cool. Nice one, Grandpa.

“Hi, sir. I’m… uh, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you. I’m just looking for my phone. And my trousers, to be honest.” Jon put on his best polite face, cringing and dying a thousand deaths inside.

The old man remained silent, his wrinkly face quite blank. Then Jon got a closer look at his eyes, and realized they were an unfocussed, milky blue. The man was not only old, but blind as well.

“Hey, uhm. Sir? I’ll be on my way in a second, no worries, I just really need to find my phone. It’s an iPhone 6 with a grey case… oh, never mind.” Jon felt like smacking himself against the head. The man couldn’t see jack-shit, and here he stood describing his phone-case. With an uncomfortable jolt, he realized that he needed to find his keys and wallet as well. This was just getting better and better.

“Jon, why won’t you lie down again? I shall have Chett prepare some milk of the poppy, it seems that you need it.”

He froze at that. First off, why did this strange man know his name? Second, why was he using such a gentle tone with Jon, as if he was speaking to an emotionally unstable child? And third – “What the fuck is poppy milk?!”

Jon immediately felt bad for the outburst. The old man was probably just as confused as he was, yelling really helped no one. His mum had not driven him to expensive therapy sessions twice a week for nothing.

God, his mum. He really needed to call her back. She had left a voice message yesterday morning, all “How is my favorite gay son? When will you come back to Leeeeeds and visit me with your gay partner? Surely we won’t need to wait til gay Christmas?”

Her enthusiastic approval was well-meant, yeah, he got that.

Jon shook his head, toes slowly going blue from the icy floor. He needed to tail it, ASAP. He turned towards gothic grandpa, and found that he had tottered closer, reaching out as if to touch Jon’s forehead.

“Milk of the poppy is the most commonly used anesthetic in the Known World, with pain easing properties. It shall give you swift dreams, and ease your fever.” What a strange accent the old man had – and weird grammar, too. But then again, he seemed positively ancient.

“You want to give me opium?” Jon shook his head no, laughing. “And I’m definitely not running a fever, I really just need my stuff…”

A door to their left opened, and a gust of wind blew in, so terribly cold that Jon thought his ears and nose might fall off from the sudden, blazing pain. It was fucking snowing outside – and it had barely been below ten degrees these past few days. Global warming really was a bitch.

“Jon! You have woken, at last!”

A large teenager with a round face and a ridiculously furry black coat stepped in. He beamed a happy smile, in his hands a tray covered but smelling strongly of hot grease. It sort of turned his stomach, but Jon was really more focused on remembering where all these people knew him from.

Was it the drugs? He had only popped the usual E last night, courtesy of Haz and his dodgy contacts that sold them A-class weed every other month. Had someone slipped him something? Was it the super horny blonde guy with the silver eye-shadow who had mouthed at his neck? Was it… was it…

Instead of attempting to appear normal, Jon decided to try the direct route: “I’m sorry, where do I know you from?”

It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Brothers on way with their duty stopped and stared as Jon stood bare-footed in the court yard and gaped at the Wall, a mighty presence towering above them, as it did every day.

Sam had set down Maester Aemon’s meal and hurried out after him, only to see him fall down the stairs leading towards the Rookery in an undignified half-slide. Jon, who was the most collected and capable of all the recruits, who wielded a sword better than anyone Sam knew.

“What. The. Fuck.” Jon bellowed, hands reaching up to wipe at his eyes, “What. The. Actual. Fuck.”

Sam approached him gently, laying a hand on his shoulder: “Jon? Jon, come inside, will you? Maester Aemon…”

“I should’ve never tried shrooms, alright?! It was summer and everyone was doing them, and they are like, plants, natural plants! I’m literally so fucked right now.” Jon had turned to him, his eyes wild and desperate. “I’m seeing things.”

“Jon, what is it you speak of? Please come inside, you’ll freeze. Maester Aemon will give you sweetsleep, to calm you…” Sam hesitated briefly before steering Jon towards the stout timber maester’s quarters with added force. A quick glance around told him that more of the black brothers had gathered, some grinning and japing at the utterly disgraced, confused bastard of Winterfell.

Sam shot them dark looks.

“Where do I know you from? Like, really, was it last night? Did we have sex? You can just tell me, it’s fine – wait, are you even sixteen?” Jon was now looking at him once again, face drawn and pale, teeth chattering with the cold. “I mean you usually aren’t my type, but I literally remember nada, so…”

Sam quickly shut the doors, leading Jon towards the fire, gathering woolen blankets and heavy furs to pile on top of him. He made to stir the fire, adding a few logs. It wouldn’t do if Jon became seriously ill. If he was not already.

“I am Sam, … Samwell of House Tarly, Jon, you must know me. I… you’re my friend.” He gestured helplessly, reading the bewilderment in Jon’s gaze. “You took a hard fall while training at arms last morn, you were out of sorts, but Maester Aemon said you merely needed to rest, exhaustion, he said. Do you truly recall nothing?”

“We were to take our vows,” he added in a small voice, and for a moment dread filled his guts. Jon had been his first true friend, not only at Castle Black, but in all his life. Well, at Horn Hill he’d had his mother and sisters. He missed them desperately still, the small affections, the way his sisters would crowd around him for stories. Though not having to face Father, still soaked in deer’s blood before his mind’s eye, was a true blessing.

“What vows?” Jon asked, eyes squinted and gazing into the fire. He had, at least, ceased to shiver so violently. “Sam, it’s Sam, right? Can you please tell me where the hell I am,” he gulped down a shuddering breath, “and how I can get back to Brixton?”

Sam looked Jon straight in the eye, searching for a glint of recognition. Yet the man sitting before him was so utterly, completely at odds with the person Jon had been only yesterday. His voice had changed, ever so slightly, and the words he used were strange and foreign. Mayhaps Sam was going quite mad as well, but kneeling close to the fire, gazing steadily at his best friend, he seemed queerly… off.

“We are at Castle Black, Jon. Where is it that you want to go?”

“Home?” Jon laughed manically, gripping the furs covering his shoulder and pushing them away. “I’ve no recollection whatsoever of how I got here, yeah? I am fucking trippin’, to tell you the truth. Someone must’ve drugged me, whatever. I just need my phone.”

Sam was quite speechless at that. A “phone”? His “phone”? What did he mean? What was he missing? Then Sam perked up, and he scrambled to his feet, grabbing the furs to pile on top of Jon, once again.

He needed to find Ghost.

#asoiaf #fanfiction #jon snow #hipster #time travel #idea in the middle of the night #samwell tarly #maester aemon #cold as fuck #snippet #i just needed to post this #robb stark #pretty straight boy #gay

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