Fic - Stay Where You Are 2/?
Title: Stay Where You Are - Chapter Three
Author: Mistermoons
Fandom: Glee
Characters/Pairing: Kurt/David, The whole Hudson-Hummel gang.
Rating: Eventual NC-17. I duno, pg, pg-13 right now.
Warnings None in this chapter. Eventual dubcon, somophilia, possession, supernatural whatnot. There will be a lot more to come, I think.
Words: this chapter is 850
Summary: Based off this prompt in the anonymous kink meme.
Kurt is uneasy in his family’s new home. It’s drafty, the doors don’t stay closed, and there are unexplained noises and shadows. Kurt keeps feeling as though someone is watching him and keeps seeing something in his peripheral. And then there are his dreams.
Note: This is going somewhere, I swear.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Kurt whimpers softly as he rolls his hips against the mattress. His pillow is shoved to the side and his blanket fell to the floor a while ago. Kurt presses his face against the cool fabric of his sheets, moaning again.
His dream is more feelings and abstract images then anything coherent. He knows he’s at McKinley, in a classroom, pressed up against the wall. He knows there are hands and lips on him and his own hands are flattened against a board chest. Their lips find each other and everything feels so heated and desperate. Kurt feels a rush of urgency; they don’t have much time and they shouldn’t be here in the first place.
Kurt’s bed dips down as though someone crawled in beside him. He rolls toward the weight, brushing against something-
Kurt wakes up with a strangled cry, struggling to bolt upright. He looks down, confused, as he blinks his eyes awake. His pajama pants and underwear are yanked down just past his groin. He’s hard and leaking between his thighs. Kurt yanks his pajamas back up and crawls out of bed to stand on shaky legs. Trying to forget about the night before, he heads to the bathroom.
He makes sure to turn the hall light on before venturing down the hall this time. When he gets to the bathroom, he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing there. He yawns and blinks at himself in the mirror. He’s been losing at least an hour, sometimes three or four, of sleep a night. The dream is still lingering and he can’t help but feel as though someone has been…touching him. He can almost feel where large, warm hands griped his sides and arms, occasionally running through his hair.
Kurt shakes his head and turns the faucet on to splash cold water on his face. When he looks back to the mirror he sighs and shuts his eyes. “Terrible,” he mutters, deeply annoyed by the dark circles under his eyes. He pushes away from the sink and opens the door to head back to his room.
The hall light is off.
Without thinking about it, Kurt slams the door, reeling back. He takes several deep, frightened breathes and shakes his head. “It’s an old house,” He echoes his father’s hallow explanation. “The light just burnt out.” He doesn’t know why but he needs to say it out loud.
He opens the door and heads into the hallway, trying desperately to ignore the knowing growing tension in his gut. It’s freezing now, despite being warm when he left his bedroom. Kurt walks quickly, head down and fingers skimming along the wall as he goes.
When he reaches his bedroom door, he stops dead and holds his breath, listening. A soft noise is coming from his room. He shuffles forward, unsure of what he’s hearing. Pushing his door open all the way, he leans forward, suddenly not wanting to step all the way inside. The sound is muffled. It’s not until he fully crosses the threshold of his room that the noise comes to life.
Someone’s crying.
Kurt stills in his doorway, hand hovering over the light switch. “Hello?” For some reason, the fear he felt in the bathroom evaporates. He finds that he’s worried, but not for himself. He drops his hand from the light switch, leaving it off. He makes his way toward the closet. “Hello?” He repeats as he rounds the bed. He doesn’t feel completely in charge of his actions. Something is pulling him toward the closet. He can’t resist.
The closet door swings the rest of the way open and Kurt sucks in a sharp breath. He steps forward. The moment he enters the closet, the crying comes to a halt. There’s a gust of wind and freezing air fills Kurt’s lungs. He reels back, grabbing his chest and gasping for breath. He feels overcome, drowning in someone else’s emotions. Fear and panic and an overwhelming sadness fill him. He stumbles back and practically falls onto the bed.
He’s crying now, hard wet sobs forcing their way out of his throat. He flops backwards and rolls onto his side, dragging a pillow close and pressing his damp face against it.
~~ ~~
Kurt wakes up with a migraine and puffy red eyes. He’s laying on top of his covers, legs dangling over the edge of the bed. He sits up slowly, head swimming. As he stumbles into a standing position, he distantly notices the closet door is closed.
Kurt heads to the bathroom, grabbing the outfit he laid out the night before as he goes. It was just a dream, he tells himself as he wanders down the hall. You probably didn’t even go to the bathroom last night.
Almost half convinced, Kurt begins his morning routine.
By the time he’s done with his shower, the incident from last night is gone from his mind and his headache is almost gone. He goes to the counter and lays out everything he needs to get ready. He pulls open the third drawer down, where he keeps the sterling silver hand mirror that belonged to his mother. He reaches in but it’s not there.
Kurt stares down in the drawer, empty except for the spare hand towels. He just stands there, staring down at it for a long time before finally shutting the door. Kurt goes to question the household, just in case anyone moved it. Except that he already knows no one did. He’s the only one who uses the mirror; no one would even think of moving it, especially without permission.
Author: Mistermoons
Fandom: Glee
Characters/Pairing: Kurt/David, The whole Hudson-Hummel gang.
Rating: Eventual NC-17. I duno, pg, pg-13 right now.
Warnings None in this chapter. Eventual dubcon, somophilia, possession, supernatural whatnot. There will be a lot more to come, I think.
Words: this chapter is 850
Summary: Based off this prompt in the anonymous kink meme.
Kurt is uneasy in his family’s new home. It’s drafty, the doors don’t stay closed, and there are unexplained noises and shadows. Kurt keeps feeling as though someone is watching him and keeps seeing something in his peripheral. And then there are his dreams.
Note: This is going somewhere, I swear.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Kurt whimpers softly as he rolls his hips against the mattress. His pillow is shoved to the side and his blanket fell to the floor a while ago. Kurt presses his face against the cool fabric of his sheets, moaning again.
His dream is more feelings and abstract images then anything coherent. He knows he’s at McKinley, in a classroom, pressed up against the wall. He knows there are hands and lips on him and his own hands are flattened against a board chest. Their lips find each other and everything feels so heated and desperate. Kurt feels a rush of urgency; they don’t have much time and they shouldn’t be here in the first place.
Kurt’s bed dips down as though someone crawled in beside him. He rolls toward the weight, brushing against something-
Kurt wakes up with a strangled cry, struggling to bolt upright. He looks down, confused, as he blinks his eyes awake. His pajama pants and underwear are yanked down just past his groin. He’s hard and leaking between his thighs. Kurt yanks his pajamas back up and crawls out of bed to stand on shaky legs. Trying to forget about the night before, he heads to the bathroom.
He makes sure to turn the hall light on before venturing down the hall this time. When he gets to the bathroom, he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing there. He yawns and blinks at himself in the mirror. He’s been losing at least an hour, sometimes three or four, of sleep a night. The dream is still lingering and he can’t help but feel as though someone has been…touching him. He can almost feel where large, warm hands griped his sides and arms, occasionally running through his hair.
Kurt shakes his head and turns the faucet on to splash cold water on his face. When he looks back to the mirror he sighs and shuts his eyes. “Terrible,” he mutters, deeply annoyed by the dark circles under his eyes. He pushes away from the sink and opens the door to head back to his room.
The hall light is off.
Without thinking about it, Kurt slams the door, reeling back. He takes several deep, frightened breathes and shakes his head. “It’s an old house,” He echoes his father’s hallow explanation. “The light just burnt out.” He doesn’t know why but he needs to say it out loud.
He opens the door and heads into the hallway, trying desperately to ignore the knowing growing tension in his gut. It’s freezing now, despite being warm when he left his bedroom. Kurt walks quickly, head down and fingers skimming along the wall as he goes.
When he reaches his bedroom door, he stops dead and holds his breath, listening. A soft noise is coming from his room. He shuffles forward, unsure of what he’s hearing. Pushing his door open all the way, he leans forward, suddenly not wanting to step all the way inside. The sound is muffled. It’s not until he fully crosses the threshold of his room that the noise comes to life.
Someone’s crying.
Kurt stills in his doorway, hand hovering over the light switch. “Hello?” For some reason, the fear he felt in the bathroom evaporates. He finds that he’s worried, but not for himself. He drops his hand from the light switch, leaving it off. He makes his way toward the closet. “Hello?” He repeats as he rounds the bed. He doesn’t feel completely in charge of his actions. Something is pulling him toward the closet. He can’t resist.
The closet door swings the rest of the way open and Kurt sucks in a sharp breath. He steps forward. The moment he enters the closet, the crying comes to a halt. There’s a gust of wind and freezing air fills Kurt’s lungs. He reels back, grabbing his chest and gasping for breath. He feels overcome, drowning in someone else’s emotions. Fear and panic and an overwhelming sadness fill him. He stumbles back and practically falls onto the bed.
He’s crying now, hard wet sobs forcing their way out of his throat. He flops backwards and rolls onto his side, dragging a pillow close and pressing his damp face against it.
~~ ~~
Kurt wakes up with a migraine and puffy red eyes. He’s laying on top of his covers, legs dangling over the edge of the bed. He sits up slowly, head swimming. As he stumbles into a standing position, he distantly notices the closet door is closed.
Kurt heads to the bathroom, grabbing the outfit he laid out the night before as he goes. It was just a dream, he tells himself as he wanders down the hall. You probably didn’t even go to the bathroom last night.
Almost half convinced, Kurt begins his morning routine.
By the time he’s done with his shower, the incident from last night is gone from his mind and his headache is almost gone. He goes to the counter and lays out everything he needs to get ready. He pulls open the third drawer down, where he keeps the sterling silver hand mirror that belonged to his mother. He reaches in but it’s not there.
Kurt stares down in the drawer, empty except for the spare hand towels. He just stands there, staring down at it for a long time before finally shutting the door. Kurt goes to question the household, just in case anyone moved it. Except that he already knows no one did. He’s the only one who uses the mirror; no one would even think of moving it, especially without permission.