#[ alright. now that the phones have calmed down tonight... // KNOCK ON WOOD

[tenebriism]

// Mkay, followers have been cleaned out. Mostly blogs who have been inactive for 6 or more months with no hiatus notice, or those I've not had any interaction with at all. Being a bit more lenient than usual because my own activity has been ABYSMAL as of late.

On that note, I'm back at work, but the hotel is literally dead in the days leading up to Christmas and around it, so hopefully, I can actually be around, for once. Wire is still my go to for when I don't feel like being here, so let me know if y'all wanna cook something up on there.

[ghoul333]

serial lover

chapter one(?)

pairing: billy x f!reader

wc: 2.8k

summary: billy wants to kill you, but you change his mind last minute.

warnings: angst, murder, swearing, fluff(?)

a/n: i used both their point of views so i hope it came out alright. i definitely want to write another chapter. hope you enjoy! <3

He looked at you from afar. Lurking in the bushes, watching your every move. It was pretty much turning into a daily routine. He wanted you, bad. Billy was heavily debating when to break in one of these nights to kill you. Lucky for him, tonight might be the night, your parents weren't home and your siblings were nowhere to be seen. Just you, sitting pretty on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

You were the perfect victim. It had been a few years since the first killing spree in Woodsboro. Everything for the most part had gone back to normal. They thought about it for a while, and considering they had succeeded the first time, Billy and Stu decided to give it another go. Only for this job was Billy on his own, Stu being with his girlfriend.

A kind, innocent girl like you? That would be fun. Though you had never wronged the pair, you were somewhat of a loner. Quiet but willing to help when needed. Might've been a distasteful move, but damn was Billy eager to hear what your screams sounded like.

And now that you were alone, it was the perfect time to play a game.

Only you weren't.

Your brother in law, Ian, was in the living room, watching a hockey game.

Billy got into a stance when he saw you getting up from the bed, figuring you would leave the room. Instead, you paced in circles. He looked down at your hands, you were flicking your index finger against your thumb, as if it was out of anxiety. You seemed to be contemplating something.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Billy having to duck down so you wouldn't spot him. It would be a different story if he was dressed up as himself, you two were acquainted after all, having one or two classes together. But he wasn't exactly 'himself' right now, he was Ghostface. Though he and Ghostface were one in the same, you didn't know that. You would only see a masked psycho hiding in your bushes.

He was about to pick up his cellphone to call your house phone, but something stopped him. His hand was frozen in place. When he looked back to you, he noticed a change in your expression.

You were crying in the mirror.

Billy cocked his head. What the fuck was this? One minute you're fine and seemingly calm. Then the next minute you're crying as if something traumatic happened.

He raised his brows, surprised when you stopped crying immediately, as if on cue. Your eyes had been glossy but were now completely dry.

Holy shit. Where did you learn that? He thought.

You didn't look sad anymore. In fact there was no emotion at all and for some reason, Billy loved it.

—

You wiped the tears off your face and stared at yourself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath.

Was that believable?  I think so.

A part of you wished you had someone here to let you know, but this was something you needed to do by yourself. You didn't even know if you were gonna go through with it, but the urge wouldn’t leave your mind.

Hearing a loud cheer from the other room, you groaned in disgust. You had a hard time believing your family would leave Ian here with you. Especially after all the shit you've taken from him.

You could confidently say that you hated your brother in law. Your sister disappointed you, putting up with trash like him and you resented your family for tolerating it for as long as they have. For over a year, he had lived in your house. Being nothing but a bum. Always being a fucking asshole to you and your family, then making you feel like shit when you call him out.

He could get away with it too. The fact your father was rarely in town made it easy and you hated it. You hated him. You wanted him gone, for good.

You knew there was only one way. No matter how many fights, he wouldn't leave. Refused to.

If he was gone, everything would be fine. It'd take time for some people to heal, but this was for the best.

Thinking about it put a smile on your face. Even though the inhuman thoughts ashamed you, you couldn't help but let them excite you at the same time. Never in your life had you wanted to do something like this, but you craved to see that piece of shit suffer. This would be the only time, and hopefully you wouldn't get caught.

You opened up your drawer, pulling out some scissors, studying them for a few seconds before putting them back.

You weren't ready to get blood on your hands. You looked around your room, trying to find something easy and simple. You looked down at your rack of shoes. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

You pulled the lace from one of your old sneakers, you'd have to dump them afterwards but you wouldn't miss them. While you wrapped the string around both your hands, something came over you. You didn't even realize you were walking to the living room, until you were standing right behind him while he watched his game. At that point, your body was doing the talking. Fuck what was actually right. Fuck morals.

Billy watched all this, following your every move. He cursed himself for not noticing the other obvious person in the house. How stupid. If he decided to pursue you there was a greater chance he wouldn't get away. Stu would've had to come. You kind of saved him there.

Seeing the single shoelace in your grip and standing so close behind Ian, he was actually anticipating your next move. Which surprised him, you had him on the edge of his seat. You had opened his eyes in those last few minutes. You had him so confused.

He had been watching you for days, basically knew your day and night routine. So, where did this come from? You put on an act, even for yourself?

He couldn't deny he thought you were, somewhat, adorable. Many victims had been adorable, but being adorable doesn't mean shit to Billy. If he wanted to gut you, he would.

There were times where you would just sit and stare into a void, but he didn't really think anything of it. He didn't realize how fucked up in the head you really were.

He couldn't kill you now, definitely not. You were turning out to be just as insane as he was. Billy felt drawn to you. He was rooting for you.

You stood there long enough for Ian to notice your presence behind him. Not even turning around, he opened his mouth.

"What the fuck do you wa-" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before you wrapped the shoelace around his neck, attempting to strangle him.

Hearing him speak irritated the fuck out of you. You'd rather cut your own ears off, but why do that? He should just simply stop talking.

He was strong, but you gave yourself props for not wearing socks, your feet were planted firmly on the ground, and they weren't going anywhere. His arms were violently swinging, voice coming out in gargles. How long did I need to do this for? Maybe a plastic bag would've been easier.

It felt like forever until he quit moving. Eventually, his arms fell limp and his breathing stopped. You stood there for a moment, the lace still wrapped around him. Had you killed him?

You decided you wanted to be sure, jerking the shoelace against his neck just one more time.

Suddenly his arm flew up, grabbing the shoelace and trying to jerk your body forward. You begin to struggle against him, pulling the lace as tight as you could so he couldn't grip it, but he was able to overpower you within seconds. Yanking you over the sofa he had been sitting on, you groaned in pain as your back hit the floor. The air being knocked out of you.

Where did that adrenaline come from?

Watching you flip like that, for some reason, worried Billy. Even he thought you had him. He couldn't let this happen, he felt the strong urge to come to your rescue. Sure, some random guy dying by the hands of ghostface didn't fit the route they were trying to take, but Billy was going to protect you tonight. He needed to.

He quickly got up from where he was crouched, beginning to creep his way towards the house. He figured he needed to move fast considering how much smaller you were compared to the man you were trying to murder.

"You little fucking bitch!" Ian managed to seethe, voice extremely hoarse. He got up from where he was standing and grabbed you by the hair, making you cry out pain. Billy heard the commotion from outside, and the sound he'd been wanting to hear. He didn't like it. Why?

Why did it make him angry to hear you in pain?

You wanted to avoid eye contact with Ian, but he yanked your hair again, making you face him. The look in his eyes seemed hungry, and not in a good way.

He gave you a vile smile, before slapping you across the face, making you tumble to the floor once again. You slowly reached up, touching your cheek. A single tear threatened to fall but you quickly blinked it away. It burned, almost vibrating from the impact. You knew the slap was hard enough for blood to come through.

Fuck.

You figured you were screwed, if you knew he was gonna grab you like that you would've just duct taped him to the coach. You really did not think this one through, even though you had been thinking about it for months on end.

You felt his body heat centimeters away from you. Looking up at him, he hovered over you.

"Thank you for finally giving me a reason to do that." He said, his tone spilling venom. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

You just stared at him, you weren't scared or upset. You couldn't even be mad, you just attempted to strangle your sisters husband. What could've been expected? You probably didn't have a great chance of succeeding anyway, but you couldn't fight your urges anymore.

People like him deserved death.

You didn't have time to process another thought before Ian picked you up, throwing you against the wall. You yelped as your side impacted harshly against the wood floor. You didn't even want to look at him anymore, you had failed and were probably gonna die, or get beat into a coma.

You didn't feel him grab you again. You didn't feel him pin you against the wall. You didn't feel the corner of the table next you digging into your side. You didn't feel anything. Not even the tears falling from your eyes.

"Don't cry now darling," He whispered in your ear, you shuddered in disgust. "This is what you wanted."

His voice made you want to vomit. Cigarettes and cheap beer leaking off his tongue. Even with him up to your ear, you could smell it. He was so fucking close. Everything about this man made you sick. You couldn't understand how your sister slept beside this thing at night.

He held your body against his while he shifted his hands. They wrapped around your throat and squeezed, very hard. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to just let it happen but your body was thinking ahead of you, once again. You grabbed his hands, trying to pry him off.

You actually couldn't fucking breathe. You were going to die, staring into this mans lifeless eyes, hearing his heaving breathing...his body pressed against yours. You would rather get stabbed to death. Or burned alive. You just didn't want him to be the last thing you saw before you died. You didn't want to die.

I fucked up.

Maybe you were selfish too. You were better off just hurting yourself to ease the pain. You couldn't get him off you and it was painful. Your vision was starting to blur.

You used your feet to try and push him off you, but your attempts failed.

Unexpectedly, you fell to the floor with a thud. You quickly inhaled a large breath of air, a small coughing spell following. You couldn't hear or see anything in that moment, just trying to get up, desperately trying to regain your strength.

Breathing had never felt so good.

Weak and in pain, you used one hand to guide your way up the wall, while the other one held your throat. As you regained your vision and started to focus on your surroundings, you began to hear struggling. Lots of struggling. You were confused, you thought it was just the both of you. As you looked up, you noticed a cloaked figure on top of  Ian.

Billy had gotten into the house from your laundry room window, finding the entrance a few days ago when he was planning how he would kill you. He crept in, being as quiet as a ghost. When he turned the corner, he saw Ian pressing you deep against the wall. He watched you struggle and fight, a few tears falling from your eyes.

He tackled your brother in law to the floor, making him lose his grip on you. Billy managed to gain the upper hand quickly, getting on top of him and wrapping his hands around his throat. Ian kicked his legs, but it did no good. Billy was too far up on his chest, sinking all his body weight onto him.

You stood there and watched. You were confused and shocked on what was happening, on where this guy came from. You looked down, noticing a knife next to the person in the black cloak. You begin to panic a little inside, wondering whether this person was saving your life or here to take you both out.

It only then hit you that the knife and the black costume seemed way too familiar.

Oh shit...It can't be.

Was this, The Ghostface?

From what you and the rest of Woodsboro knew, that killer who committed all those murders years ago was supposed to be dead. So what was he doing here?

You snapped back into reality when you heard Ian trying to speak. Looking at the both of them, you saw Ian's arms swing violently once again. Billy had managed to dodge most the swings, his arms steadily pressing down on Ian's throat. He did take a few hits to the face though, but he had been through worse.

It wasn't until he started reaching for the mask.

Billy could only lean back so far, if he tried anymore Ian would gain the upper hand in a matter of seconds. He usually didn’t care, since they were going to be dead anyway, but he wasn’t going to kill you.

You noticed what was happening, even with Ghostface's back turned to you. You slowly crept your way towards them, until you could see Ian's face again.

His eyes were wide as plates and his skin looked tight as the killer pushed down on his throat. Ian's eyes snapped to you, making Billy turn his head a little to see you in his peripheral vision. You could tell by the look in Ian's eyes that he wanted your help.

Tough shit.

You slowly walked around the two, Ian was convinced you were gonna help him, beginning to reach for the mask again, fingers brushing the mouth, trying to find a grip. You kneeled, grabbing Ian's arms, pinning him down. Your gazed flickered towards the mask killer, to find he was already looking in your direction.

You decided to flash him a smile. Though you couldn't see behind that mask, Billy had the same expression.

You lowered your body down, until your mouth was leveled with Ian's ear. He was trying to fight against you, but he had no more strength. He was done for.

"See you in hell, fat shit." You spoke into his ear.

Gargles could only be heard, and the hockey game playing on the tv was basically non existent. The life Ian once had, was now gone. You slowly stood up, ghostface doing the same. You both looked at his lifeless body.

“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, or start running.” You said, letting out a laugh. It hurt like hell to speak. Your eyes moved to the masked killer and once again, he was already looking at you.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t back up, and for some reason you didn’t feel afraid. Billy reached out his hand, lightly touching your throat.

You weirdly didn’t mind the feeling, you weren’t scared of his touch, in fact, it was very gentle.

His hand trailed up, cupping the cheek that had been slapped. His thumb lightly rubbed your cheek and you couldn’t help but sigh.

“Thank you.” You told him, but he didn’t say anything. You knew he couldn’t speak, he wasn’t gonna let you find out who he was. If you recognized the voice or didn’t there was still a chance.

A car pulling up into the driveway made you and Billy snap your attention to the front of the house. He looked at you once again, seeing the fear in your eyes. He had to help you out some more, and you couldn’t be awake for it to work.

“I’m sorry.” Billy lowly mumbled, before knocking you unconscious.

[221bshrlocked]

Two AM Feels Alright

another quickie because i’m feeling so fatigued right now and i’m getting all the bucket feels

It wasn’t the first night that you heard the creaking of the wood. You knew who he was and you couldn’t blame him for pacing back and forth during the late hours. It didn’t bother you really, considering how much of a night owl you were. At least he wasn’t screaming tonight. You knew all about him and it sometimes felt that you perhaps knew too much. But it wasn’t your fault, the news and the museum didn’t leave much for privacy...

Deciding you needed to do something about it, you threw your keys and phone in your pocket before grabbing the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies from the oven and heading out. Taking a deep breath, you took the five steps to Bucky’s door and knocked three times on the wood, waiting to hear the familiar foot steps grow near to the hallway. When he didn’t respond, you knocked again and prayed that he wouldn’t keep you waiting outside.

Twenty seconds passed and you realized that he probably didn’t want to see anyone so you looked to the floor in disappointment before turning around. Just as you were about to unlock your door, you heard Bucky open his and step out.

You reluctantly turned around, waving softly at him and smiling as you stepped forward.

“H-hi, I uhh...thought you might want some cookies.” You pushed the plate of cookies forward and tried to look away from his damp chest, already feeling your heart racing when saw the metal arm attached to his shoulder.

“At two in the morning?” You gulped nervously at his question, smile faltering when you finally met his gaze and saw the piercing stare he was throwing you. Your hands shook the longer it took for him to take the plate and you started to bring the cookies closer to your chest.

“I’m s-sorry. I didn’t mean to...I’m sorry.”

“No, please. I don’t mean to be-” Just as he began to apologize, his arm shifted and whirred, breaking the awkward silence and making Bucky wince at how loud it was. “Fuck, please I-”

“Can I come in?” You asked to distract him, taking a step closer to make him look at you. Bucky blinked confusingly before he nodded and allowed you to pass through his door. You walked in and set the cookies on kitchen table, immediately filling up a cup of water and waiting for him to shut the door behind him before moving to the couch.

“I didn’t catch your name doll.” Bucky said as sat at the edge of the couch, ringing his fingers when he glanced to the side and saw you watching him.

“I’m Y/N...and-” You were about to tell him you just came in to check on him when your foot hit something at the foot of the couch. Looking down, you saw a pillow and a few blankets crumpled around.

“Oh shit, sorry...I didn’t expect any visitors let me grab those.” Bucky grew shy as you looked down one last time before leaning over and grabbing his wrist.

“Please, it’s your home. You don’t have to apologize for doing something you want in your own home Bucky.” You waited for him to turn to you before you gave him the cup of water.

“Can I ask you something?” You whisper your question and hope your friendliness didn’t bother him. Bucky nodded and set the cup down on the floor before facing you.

“Would you like a hug?” The question caught him off guard because he tilted his head and looked everywhere else but you. “I’m only asking because I know that sometimes, when I feel down and think that there’s no hope in the world, I always ask for a hug from a friend.” It was quiet for a while, and you never once turned away from him, hoping that Bucky would see your sincerity.

“Does...does it help?” He whispered, and you swore you could hear his voice break.

“To be honest, not always. But it’s better to give it a try you know.” You leaned down to try and get a better look at him, eyebrows furrowing when you saw sweat forming on his forehead.

“Doll, do you- do you mind if...” You threw your arms around him and pulled him close to you, knowing that there was a small chance he might grow reluctant and not finish that question.

You could feel him gradually relax in your arms, sighing in relief when he wrapped one arm around you, purposely keeping his metal arm as far away from you as possible.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there for, scratching below his neck and massaging his back until he completely loosened his muscles in your arms. His arm began to descend slowly and your breath hitched when you felt the warmth of his hand touch your lower back.

“B-bucky?” You called for him and when he didn’t respond, you slowly pushed him off of you, heart chattering when you noticed his eyes fluttered shut and his face as calm as the night air.

“Oh sweetie...”

Of course he’d fallen asleep. He hasn’t slept in days.

Not wanting to wake him up, you laid him back and quickly grabbed the pillow and blanket from the floor, resting his head on the plush feathers before covering him with the soft sheet.

You laid back and crossed your arms, deciding to stay with him for another few minutes before heading out. As you watched his chest rise and fall, your eyes began to flutter closed and before you knew it, you were fast asleep, not knowing that you managed to burrow your way into the super soldier’s heart as soon as he saw you standing there at his front door at two in the morning.

[granolabird]

Life Is So Busted

Tonights episode had me all kinds of upset that Beth’s parents would just leave her after telling her they’re divorcing so you KNOW I had to fix it with soft Hournite. That’s the only way.  (Sidenote this was entirely written while listening to my Hournite playlist, hence the title. Link to the playlist is in my pinned post!!)

.

The thunderstorm starts as soon as Beth’s parents leave the house. She’s alone, sobbing on the livingroom floor as thunder wracks the home. Fitting weather for the solemn mood she’s in. She should’ve known it would go this way, should’ve known that her parents wouldn’t provide much solace, but she had held out hope. 

Beth was getting tired of holding out hope. 

She’s not entirely sure what to do with herself, so she resolves to call the one person she knows will know what to do. It’s a slow trek as she sniffles her way to where her phone is plugged in, and she winces as lightning illuminates the window. He’s at the top of her contact list, the only person she’s called in the last few days, so all she has to do is press the small green phone icon beside his name, and wait. 

She prays to whatever higher being is out there that he answers.

Rick is in the woods. It’s terrible weather and he’s soaked to the bone but he has to check if Grundy’s shown up. After the Eclipso-induced visions he had of Grundy back at the school he can’t stop himself from checking for the creature, even if it means being out in such terrible weather. There’s no sign of Grundy though, and all Rick has received for his efforts is water weighing him down and a terrible case of the chills. He lets out an exasperated groan as he flops into the driver's seat of his car, slamming the door and letting his head fall onto his steering wheel. He really doesn’t feel like going home to whatever drunken insults Matt is going to throw at him, especially after everything he saw at the school. And so Rick mulls over the idea of staying the night at the Pit Stop, like he usually does on the days when Matt’s being particularly cruel. As he slides his keys into his ignition, his phone rings from where it’s been discarded in a cup holder. He slowly lifts his head and squints at the screen. His heart skips a beat when he reads the name. 

Beth :)

He scrambles to pick the phone up, wet fingers sliding uselessly against the screen as he attempts to answer. By some miracle he manages to hit the right buttons, answering the call. 

He presses the phone to his ear,

“Beth?”

Silence for a moment and then 

“Rick.”

She’s crying. That’s clear the second she speaks, her voice quivering as she says his name.

“I’ll be right over.”

“Beth, hey. What’s up? Are you okay?

“My parents are getting divorced. Or at least, they’re pretty sure they are. They just told me and left. I’m just… I just need someone to talk to. If that’s okay.”

He hears Beth sniffle before she hangs up. Rick grips the wheel of his car and takes off, not caring about the weather, not caring about much of anything really. At this moment, all he cares about is Beth Chapel.

“Rick, the weather is terrible! You don’t have to come all the way over here if it’s not safe-”

“I was planning on coming into town anyway. It’s alright. See you in a bit, okay?”

“Okay.”

Beth hates the way she’s waiting at her door like some sort of sad puppy, but there’s not much else to do. She’s managed to slow her crying as she stares out the small window beside her door, waiting to see a bright yellow car pull into her driveway. She’s starting to get worried, her anxiety telling her Rick had gotten into some terrible car accident, when she sees his car. She can’t help but smile, standing as he parks, and opening her front door when she sees him get out of his car. The storm is forgotten for a moment as she runs down the front steps of her house, leaving her door wide open behind her as she throws herself at Rick, engulfing him in a hug. She’s crying again, sobs wracking her body as she presses herself into his soaked sweater and he holds her. No questions or objections, he just presses one hand on her back and the other into her hair, and holds her. Rick feels his heart break as she looks up at him with tears in her eyes, but he forces himself to stay calm.

“Beth. We should probably go inside. It’s raining.” 

“Right.”

“If you don’t wanna be at home I could drive you to the Pit Stop? That’s where I was headed.”

Beth has gotten Rick a towel and turned on the electric fireplace which he’s not even sure provides heat, but it’s nice anyway. She’s in the kitchen now, steadying herself while she makes hot chocolate, and he towels off his hair and clothes to the best of his abilities as he waits for her to return. After a few minutes Beth enters the living room with two mugs, one with just marshmallows and the other piled high with whipped cream. She offers a soft smile as she hands Rick the whipped cream-topped hot chocolate, before settling in beside him on the sofa. 

She shakes her head.

“You’re soaked. I don’t want you to get sick because of my stupid emotions, come in. I’ll make us some hot chocolate, if you want?” She manages, gesturing for Rick to follow her inside. He nods, and the pair walk into Beth’s house.

“You remembered I like whipped cream.” He laughs and it warms his heart to see her chuckle along with him.

“How could I forget? You scarfed down that whipped cream off the milkshake at the diner like it was your last meal!” 

Rick is fumbling his words and he hates himself for it, but he really is trying his best.

They laugh for a moment, and it’s a relief to see that Beth is feeling at least a little better. After a brief pause Rick knock’s Beth’s knee lightly with his own, and she looks over at him. He searches her face, struggling for the right words to say.

“How are you holding up? I mean, I guess not very well but... I mean, is there anything I can do? I’m not very good with parent things, but if there’s anything I can do…”

“I’m just glad to have you here. I didn’t know what to do, and my parents left me alone, and I really didn’t want to be alone. So I called the one person who I knew would be there for me.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Beth is tearing up again, and she looks down. There’s one question at the front of her mind that she really doesn’t want to dwell on, but she knows she has to ask.

“Do you think it’s my fault? The divorce, I mean.” She sets her mug on the coffee table and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

“What? No. Beth no, if anything you were what held them together. You talked to them every day, made sure they had at least some time together as a family. There is nothing you could’ve done, this is entirely on them.”

“But I could’ve done something. I know I could’ve. When Eclipso showed up at the school he showed me my parents, and told me it was my fault. Rick, he said it was my fault. I couldn’t fix their relationship.”

Beth slowly lifts her head, still trying to no avail to wipe the tears from her eyes. 

Now Rick is the one to put his mug down on the table as he leans towards Beth.

“Hey. look at me.”

“It’s not your fault. It will never be your fault. You tried so hard, you did everything you could. This is on them. You are the kindest, sweetest person I know, you could never cause something like that. Okay?”

He’s subconsciously laid a hand on top of hers as he spoke, but he leaves it there as she offers a small nod. He smiles at her as they settle into a comfortable silence. Rick is the one to break it.

“How about we watch a movie? Nothing cheers you up like a good movie marathon.” He tips his head towards the TV. This seemingly breaks Beth from her stupor as she leaps up to turn the tv on, separating their hands swiftly. Rick awkwardly picks his hot chocolate, taking a sip as Beth grabs the converter.

“Rick, you’ve never seen Megamind!? Well we have to watch it now!” 

“Yes! Megamind just got put on Netflix, and it’s one of my favourites.”

“I’ve never seen it.”

About halfway into the movie, Beth comes to a rather abrupt realization. She had told Rick all about what Eclipso had shown her, but she hadn’t actually asked him what he had seen. She remembered how shaken he had been when they returned to the Pit Stop after the mission, but he hadn’t talked about it. A feeling of guilt settled into the pit of her stomach, she had forced all her problems onto him, but hadn’t taken the time to listen to his own struggles. 

Beth’s mind is still lingering on her parents, lingering on the way Rick had held her hand, but she can’t dwell on it for too long. Rick is right, she needs to distract herself. So she does, settling back into her spot beside Rick, the duo quietly drinking hot chocolate as the movie begins to play.

“Hey Rick?”

He turns quickly, and she can see he’s scanning her face, trying to gauge what she’s feeling. He does that a lot, and it takes everything Beth has to not smile, knowing that he cares so much. Always checking up on her.

Rick takes a moment to think. As much as he wants to tell Beth the truth, he knows he can’t. He can’t tell her he was too much of a coward to kill Grundy, but he can tell her at least some of the story.

“Yeah?”

“When we fought Eclipso at the school, what did you see? I saw my parents, but you never said what you saw.”

“I saw Grundy. And I saw myself. I saw myself at my worst moment. I was so angry, and I just let my rage take over. I let it consume me. I don’t think I’ve ever hated myself more than that moment. Looking back on it, I was so stupid, just letting myself go like that. And you tried to tell me that, back then. You tried to stop me, and I didn’t listen.” That’s the truth. He does hate himself for that, but he also hates himself for letting Grundy go. It’s a whole whirlpool of conflicted emotions that he hasn’t taken the time to process. He’s not sure he ever will.

Beth is silent for a moment. There’s a lot to unpack there, and she’s not entirely sure what to say. Megamind drones on in the background, entirely forgotten. 

“I’m serious! You’re my closest friend. You’re the only person who listens to me, who’s there for me. Courtney and Yolanda are great, but they don’t stick up for me the way you do. They don’t care about me like you do. There’s no reason you should hate yourself. You let your anger take over, so what? Everyone makes mistakes, there’s no reason that you should hate yourself for having real emotions. I literally sobbed into your sweater in the rain like an hour ago, and do I hate myself for that? No!”

“Rick… You shouldn’t hate yourself.”

“Wow, very insightful.” he lets out a spiteful chuckle, and Beth halfheartedly slaps his arm.

“That was different.”

“It wasn’t! I was feeling really, really sad. You were feeling really, really angry. And you had every right to feel angry. Grundy killed your parents. If I was in that situation, I’d probably have done the same thing.”

“You wouldn’t have.”

“You don’t know that.”

Rick locks eyes with Beth when she says that. He feels something inside him break, and he almost slips up,almost tells her how much he cares about her. How much he loves her. He wants nothing more than to kiss her at that moment. But now is not the time, the thoughts of failed love leading to divorce still fresh in her mind.

“I do. Beth, you're always looking for the good in people, always looking on the bright side. And I’m me. I’m always angry, always ready to fight. I hate everyone and everything.”

“You don’t hate me.”

“Beth. Thank you.”

“Rick, I should be saying thank you to you! You’re the one who came rushing through a thunderstorm to rescue me.”

“And yet somehow you’ve managed to find a way to flip the tables. You’ve rescued me.” 

They smile at each other, and lean just a little closer to one another as they turn back to the movie. Things are far from perfect for both of them, but together they’re working to make things at least a little better. And in that moment that’s all that matters.

[dreadpoetssociety]

I Told You So

TW: Suicide, abuse, kidnapping, blood, death

Note: Sorry for any spelling or grammatical mistakes, I didn’t go back through it LOL, but I may in the future. Enjoy !!! 

Request: “hi was wondering if i could request a reid x sister fic where the reader gets a boyfriend and spencer doesn’t like him and it turns out the boyfriend is an unsub. i love your work so much!!!”

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Sister!Reader

()()()()()()

When Spencer met your boyfriend for the first time, he told you immediately after that he didn’t like him. He began explaining the signs he was noticing, but you didn’t dare to listen. You told him he was a great guy, and that he was just being over protective because he was your brother. You told him to stop profiling everyone you meet, that who you date and who you’re friends with is entirely up to you, and that he should just let you live things out on your own. Of course, you did appreciate his concerns, but you just figured he was a bit overdramatic. I mean, you were all just kids, and of course Spence would have a biased view on you hanging out or dating someone.

Your boyfriend’s name was Noah. You’d been dating for about four months, he had wavy hair, dressed pretty plainly, very smart, and liked classic rock (Except Led Zeppelin, damn did he hate that band.) You’d met after the death of a mutual friend, Elaine Richards, a year ago, and the two of you became close after helping each other through such a hard time. You hung out all the time, called all the time, merged your friend groups together. Everything. And you loved him. Your friends all knew you both liked each other, and eventually, you finally went out on a date.

School had ended, and you had just got to the apartment to actually see Spencer in it, which was a very rare occurrence. 

“Hey Spence! I didn’t know you were off.” you said with a smile.

“I’m not, actually. There’s a case locally.” he said, which turned your smile o a frown.

“Well that’s not good.” you replied, trying to lighten his mood. He seemed stressed and aggravated, as that happened every once in a while when a case was particularly difficult. It always made you feel bad for him., “We should go do something before you have to go back. You know, some good ol’ sibling bonding.” 

“Sorry, Y/N, but not today. Serial killers don’t exactly wait for ‘sibling bonding.”” he sighed, annoyed. You figured at this point you’d just leave him to his thoughts, and decided to go out.

“I’m going out with Noah then. “ you replied, grabbing some of your things together. You didn’t’t notice, but this grabbed Spencer’s attention.

“No, Y/N, you’re staying here. This guy that’s out there is killing people who look like you. You fit his type.” he explained, “And I don’t trust Noah, not for a second.” 

“Jesus, Spencer, can you stop profiling literally everyone? There’s thousands of girls in this city that look like me, what makes you think I’m the one he’s gonna scoop up?” you realized that was a bit insensitive, and that you probably should care about those other girls, “Besides, wouldn’t it be safer to not be alone? You’re going back to the BAU anyway.” 

“Y/N, seriously, this can happen to anyone. You of all people should know that.” he answered. You knew what he was referring to. So a girl almost gets kidnapped once, and suddenly must live her whole life in fear.

“Spencer, that was a while ago.” you said in a small voice, “I don’ want to be afraid of it anymore.”

At that point, Spencer sighed and realized that he most likely shouldn’t have brought up the experience. He of all people should know that this was your way of trying to move on, and bringing up the past would mostly just set you back majorly, but his answer still stayed the same, “I shouldn’t have brought the up, but you’re still not going. I don’t trust Noah, you know that. Especially with a serial killer on the loose, Y/N. You’re staying home.”

This just pissed you off, “You know, you’re not right 100% of the time. You think you know everything about everybody you meet, but you literally do not. Noah is so good to me, and you just bash him and for what? I get you’re worried, but it’s started to get old. I’m not a kid anymore.” 

You walked off into your room without any other words being exchanged, and had decided you would just go anyway once Spencer left. You aren’t generally the rebellious type, but every once in a while you liked to have a little fun here and there. Spencer wasn’t home for long, after finding whatever it was he was looking for, and you just walked out the front door ten minutes after he did, texting Noah along the way. 

Your boyfriend lived nearby, so it didn’t really take him long to come driving up in his black sedan. You loved his car. It was so sleek, had a brown leather interior, a wood dashboard, and just drove beautifully. If he ever put it up for sale, you would buy it. But once you got into the car, you realized something was off. Noah seemed antsy, like something was bothering him.

“Hey, baby, what’s going on?” you asked, concerned. Noah got like this every once in a while, and you figure dit was just anxiety or something along those lines, and all you could ever do was jus be there for him.

“It’s nothing don’t worry about it.” he answered, somewhat blandly. Almost monotone, like he wasn’t happy to be there. But he was, and for what reason you were unaware. 

“Alright.” you said, “Let’s go to the mall, but not the one downtown, the one off the highway.” 

“No.” he snapped. He then recognized your surprised expression, “I mean, sorry, I just have a surprise for you.” this made you smile. Your boyfriend had always been a hopeless romantic, and he would constantly surprise you with nice dinners, cute gifts, and it just made your heart warm. He drove for a while, to an area you’d actually never been o that seemed to be completely secluded. There were empty fields, and eventually an old house that looked to be abandoned. You didn’t pass by much after that, except for one cemetery and a church. Even you had to admit, it was a bit weird, but knowing Noah, you knew to just be patient. He didn’t talk much the whole time, and just sat there smiling as he drove. The windows were closed, and you also noticed the doors were locked, but thought nothing of it.

“Spencer wasn’t even going to let me go out tonight, isn’t that so stupid? Like, he said some wack about some serial killer who’s been killing girls nearby. I looked it up, but they kinda seem to be right outside of town, like the dude’s avoiding it or something. I guess that girl from the Washington High soccer team got killed, too. It’s sort of scary.”

“That’s a shame.” was all he said in response.

Eventually, you pulled up to another house. It was absolutely destroyed, but you trusted him anyway. Stupidly. The two fo you walked in, and walked down to its basement. You knew Noah really dug these abandoned places, and you did, too, but the basement was full of rusted weapons, ropes, a table in the middle with restraints. It hadn’t clicked just yet.

“Noah, I don’t think I’m really fe-“ you turned around and were he was, gun in hand, pointe dat you, “What are you doing?”

“Get in the chair, and don’t scream.” he demanded. His whole personality changed. He was dominant, and his voice was heavier. You complied. He tied you tightly to it.

“So it’s you then?” you asked, weirdly calm. 

“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” and you did. You looked around you as he walked into another room. Looking to your right you noticed a shelf full of random things, mostly girl’s clothes and rings. Until you recognized one of them. A brown sweater with a tear in the shoulder, folded neatly on he bottom. Your heart stopped.

That was Elaine’s. And you had cut the shoulder open by accident after the two of you were messing around.

“Elaine?” you whispered, “You killed Elaine, didn’t you? She didn’t kill herself, you did! This whole time you faked it? You killed her and I mourned her and you pretended to feel with me? You killed her?” It was now that you fully processed what was happening. Your mind was racing, your heart was pounding, and all you could think about was the amount of clothes up on that shelf, and the fact that you were about to die. The items on the shelf far exceeded the numbers on the news. 

“I said shut the hell up, Y/N” he screamed, hitting you across the face with something solid, which knocked you out quickly, but not for long. The dizziness and pain when you woke up two minutes later was almost unbearable, and you had to re-process what was happening to you all over again.

Until your phone rang from the other side of the room. He must’ve taken it while you were out, and the ringtone was specialized to let you know that it was Spencer who was calling. 

“If I don’t answer it he’ll know. He’ll track everything from before I got here.” you said. Noah shot you a look, but promptly brought the phone to you. 

“Say anything, and I’ll make it painful.” he held a gun to you again, and your heart rate went up. He slide the phone open.

“Y/N?” you’d never been happier to hear your brother’s voice, “Where are you? I told you to stay home, and you’re not here.”

“Sorry,” your voice wavered slightly, “I just really missed Elaine Richards. I went to Southwoods Cemetery to visit her.”

Spencer sighed, “Please get back here as soon as possible, Y/N.” and he hung up. You prayed he picked something up.

()()()()()()

Spencer knew as soon as you spoke that something was wrong. Firstly, you’d never referred to your friend by first and last name, and Spencer actually hadn’t really known her last name until now, and secondly, Elaine wasn’t buried at Southwoods Cemetery. She was buried in the complete opposite direction, actually, at Rose Hill. He couldn’t pinpoint why you would say Southwoods, and why you would talk about Elaine, but he completely forgot about his case, and sped back to the BAU. 

The team knew instantly hat something wasn’t right when Spencer came back to the office. He couldn’t pay attention to the case evidence enough to put it together, and wasn’t staying on track.

“Reid, what’s going on?” Hotch asked him.  Spencer shook his head.

“Something’s not right.” he said, “Y/N went out earlier, but something’s not adding up.”

“I’m sure she’s alright, kid, teenagers go out all the time.” Morgan joked.

“No, no, really. I understand how the teenage mind develops, and how their brains develop. I know that rebellion is primarily a process that teens go through almost as a way to reject a “child” identity. I know that. But this wasn’t that. I told her not to go out, but she did anyway.” he rambled.

“Spence, kids do that.” JJ reassured.

“No, it’s not right. When I called to ask where she was, she would’ve lied. She wouldn’t have known I was home. She said she was visiting her friend’s grave, but she used her full name and said the wrong cemetery, her voice wavered, but nervously, not in a way that expresses sadness. If she had snuck out, she wouldn’t tell me she went there, and especially get the cemetery wrong when she’s been going to Rose Hill practically religiously. Southwoods is in an area she barely ever goes to.” he explained. Then his eyes grew a bit, “Garcia, can you trace her call?”

“I can try.” she said, rushing back to her computers, the team close behind. They knew not to question Spence, most of the time he was right. They all sat there for about three minutes before Garcia spoke up again, “That’s weird.”

“What?” Prentiss spoke up.

“Reid, her phone pinged off of like, twelve different towers in the two minutes you called her. I can’t track a location for the last hour.” she turned to him, concerned. The team all looked at each other worriedly. 

“We’ll have to split up, we’ve still go a case and this is off protocol.” Hotch broke the silence, bearer of bad news.

“No, actually, I think it’s the same case.” Spencer sighed. He looked up at them, “She fits the UnSub’s type.”

“You can’t be a part of this then, Spencer.” Hotch replied, which caused him to whip around, “It’s personal now. You’re  victim.”

“There’s no say in this.” Spencer had never defied Hotch’s authority before, but his sister was missing, “What do we have so far?”

“Well, we know he’s a sadist, white male, probably in his 30’s. He’d be social, fit in with a crowd. Probably good with the ladies, which means he sticks out, but not too much.” Prentiss relayed. Spencer thought for a moment. Who would you know that fit that profile at all. This UnSub seemed to make a connection with these girls beforehand. The team thought that maybe the victims were a surrogate to a daughter, or a sister.

“I don’t know how this related to Elaine and Southwoods. Southwoods is an hour and a half away, I had only been gone for about an hour, so she couldn’t have made it there yet.”

“Reid, who is Elaine?” Morgan asked.

“Elaine Richards. She was a friend of Y/N’s who died about a year ago. She committed suicide.”  Spencer explained. They were all silent for a moment.

“Garcia, can you bring up a picture of Elaine?” JJ asked. The analyst nodded and did so quickly, showing a picture of a brown hair, brown eyed, thin girl. It was saddening, really. They’re always too young. But JJ had confirmed her thought, “Spence, what if it wasn’t a suicide?” 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“She fits his victim ideal, the hair, the eyes. Her file says she was smart, she had friends. They interviewed an ex boyfriend, her father, so on.” JJ explained, “What if Y/N stumbled onto something she shouldn’t have? Maybe Elaine was one of his victims staged as a suicide. The profile says he became active a few weeks ago, but what if it’s been a year? Maybe he’s been testing things out until he finally got something he liked.” 

“Garcia, bring up Elaine’s autopsy report. Is there anything about anything that matches up with his current MO?” Spencer asked, “Elaine was found at the basin of a bridge within the water. It was written that she had jumped off.” 

“Uhh,” she hesitated, “I’m not seeing anything. . . Wait. Yes, yes there is. The UnSub usually cuts three lines on their necks, right? Elaine had them, too, but there was loads of glass under her, so it was written off that she’d been cut when she reached the ground.” 

“This means he’s been at it for at least a year, then. The profile is wrong. This changes everything.” Prentiss sighed. Spencer still couldn’t pinpoint who you would’ve trusted enough that fit the rest of the profile, until it hit him. Noah.

“I knew there was something wrong with that boy.” Spencer said aloud, “Y/N’s boyfriend, Noah. He fits every part of the profile. We got the age wrong, he’s a teenager. He knew Elaine, too.”

“Noah’s the name of the ex boyfriend they interviewed.” Garcia stated. “Noah Allen.” 

“That’s him.” Spencer said, “What do we know about him?”

“Well, his parents are divorced, his mother lives somewhere in California while his father- oh geez. His father has a history of abuse towards his second ex-wife, who,” she stopped, “this poor kid. His second ex wife committed suicide after trying to file multiple reports of abuse towards her and Noah about three years ago. His father was finally convicted a year ago and sentenced to life in prison.” 

“That must’ve been the trigger. He blames her for his father being sent away.” Hotch said.

“But why would he be angry? Wouldn’t he be happy to see his abuser in prison?” Garcia asked.

“He’s lived with his father his whole life. Most likely he’d developed some kind of Stockholm Syndrome or was manipulated into thinking that’s how life was. He thinks his father can do no wrong.” Morgan said.

“But what’s this have to do with Southwoods? She wouldn’t have made it that far, and something tells me they were already at their destination.” JJ asked.

“Who owns Southwoods?” Spencer asked.

“Let me see. . . The Burke Family. They also own funeral homes.” Garcia said.

“Do they own any other cemeteries?” 

“Yes, one, Marshall Fields Cemetery. It’s in a more secluded area. It was considered completely full a few months ago.” she replied.

“Garcia, are there any properties around there that Noah’s family would’ve owned? Even a family friend?” Morgan jumped in.

“His uncle owned a house about a mile and a half up the road. It’s the only house in a two mile radius. It was foreclosed a few years ago and hasn’t been bought or even kept up since.” she said, “I’m sending you the address now.” 

“Let’s go.” Hotch demanded. The team ran to the garage and jumped into the SUV’s, but Hotch stopped Spencer beforehand, “You know you could get in trouble for this. This case is too personal.”

‘“I really don’t even care.” Spencer answered, quite informally. Hotchner sighed, and let him go.

()()()()()() 

It’d been a few hours by this point. You were beaten up, bloody, concussed probably. Noah had used a whole slew of different objects to torture you, pipes, knives, anything he could find. You could barely stay awake, but he wouldn’t let you fall asleep.

“I’m not going to let you die, yet.” he said with a twisted smile, “That ruins all the fun.” 

“They’ll come for you.” you replied faintly, blood dripping from your mouth. He yanked your head back by your hair, which caused a deafening wail from the bottom of your throat.

“They won’t find me. If they could, they would’ve by now.” he giggled. He tightened your wrists until you almost couldn’t feel your hands. Your shoulders were sore from being tied behind your back, but that didn’t amount to the pain in the rest of your body. You bleeding out practically everywhere, you could feel the start of every bruise forming, your head spun and pounded, and you were convinced you had a few broken ribs at least. 

“W-why?” you huffed out with tears.

“Why? Why? I’ll tell you why. I spent my whole life looking up to my father, but it’s women like you who ruin men’s lives. And for what? For attention? For power? You’ll never be on the same playing field, but the system is so messed up that it threw my father in prison for something that wasn’t his fault. He didn’t make Brenda kill herself, she did that on her own. And her reasoning? How she cried about him abusing us?” he let out a posh laugh, “That’s just how the world is. She should’ve known her place like I knew mine. And should’ve never spoken for me.” 

“Why me?” your face twisted in pain as you spoke, but if you were going to die, you at east had to know.

“I just told you!” he slapped you, causing you to sob, “It’s stupid women like you, Y/N. You just exist to ruin lives, and I’m going to stop you before you start.” 

But the door upstairs burst open just then, causing him to look. You smiled mischieviously, “They’re here. You better let them get to you before I do.” you threatened. It was an empty threat of course, given your state, but you felt so much rage that you honestly thought you might’ve killed him, too, which scared you.

“Noah Allen, FBI!” you recognized Emily’s voice, and it was like music to your ears. 

Noah had moved towards you and covered your mouth, holding a gun to your head, waiting for them to come down stairs. You watched frantically as you saw JJ and Morgan step carefully down.

“Noah, drop your weapon.” JJ demanded. At this point, Spencer, Hotch, and Prentiss joined them after hearing JJ speak. Spencer’s expression was horrified, and angry. 

“Death is an honor, you know.” Noah taunted as he pulled your head slightly back. 

“Noah, you don’t have to do this. If you cooperate, we can lessen your sentence, and we can negotiate a deal for your father.” Hotch said. Noah’s head turned slightly.

“That’s not how the system works and you know it. You’re lying!” he yelled.

“That’s not how the system works for civilians. I’m the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I can pull some strings, but only if you let her go.” he said. Spencer was surprised, Hotch never really used lying as a coercion, but he understood that all this boy wanted was his father to be free, and that he wasn’t a rational thinker. He’d fall for it.

“Swear? Swear on God?” Noah asked.

“Yes, Noah, I swear on God.” Hotch said. The boy lowered his weapon and came closer, but was startled when Morgan quickly, and not so kindly cuffed him.

“What? What are you doing?” he yelled out.

“Noah Allen, you are under arrest for multiple counts of murder. You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer quest-“

“What the hell! You lied! I’ll kill you for ly-“

“Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future.” and with that Morgan walked him out with a few other backup, while the rest of the BAU rushed towards you.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Can you hear me? What hurts?” Spencer asked questions at about a mile a minute, but you ignored them.

“I g-guess,” you painfully said, “I guess this is that part where you say ‘I told you so.’ huh?” 

“Y/N, I don’t care about that.” he said, holding your face trying to check for any signs of concussions, that were definitely there, while Prentiss and JJ worked on getting you untied. One you were, you tried to stand up, stupidly.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Hotch said as you almost fell and hit the floor, “take it easy.”

You had your arm wrapped around Spencer while JJ had her hand pressed on your upper back and above your chest to keep you balanced.

“Heh, so humble.” were your last words before blacking out.

“A medic! Somebody get a medic, goddammit!” Spencer yelled, as he and JJ slowly followed you to the door, “Y/N? Stay awake.” 

()()()()()()

You woke up with bright white lines shining in your eyes. Confused you tried to sit up, but painfully failed.

“Y/N? Wait, Y/N, no, no, no, no, no, lay down.” you heard Morgan’s voice and felt him slowly and gently push you back down to the pillow, “How you feeling, kiddo?”

“Like sunshine.” you mumbled sarcastically. You heard Spencer chuckle, “I’m sorry. You were right.”

“Y/N, it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re safe now.” he said. His face dropped, “Y/N, I’m honestly impressed by the hints you gave us. It was clever, and you just saved a bunch of lives.”

“They’re going to have to question you soon. They don’t care what condition you’re in.” Morgan stated.

“I don’t even really remember.” you whispered, eyes closing from exhaustion. 

“They’ll do a cognitive interview with you, then. It won’t be fun. But for now, get some rest.” Spencer knew that it didn’t matter what he said anyway, because you were already half way asleep. He was glad that you were falling asleep on your own accord, rather than from being knocked out or drugged up, and smiled at you. He swore then to do better at keeping you safe, and also not to underestimate you, either. How you knew that he would pick up on something as simple as a last name and a cemetery chain was beyond him, but it made him realize that you were actually much smarter than you ever let off. He patted your head gently, before falling asleep in a chair near your bed. 

[ally22042000]

BTS Reaction: Someone breaking into your house

Hey. I hope you enjoy this one, it’s been in my drafts for a year 😊 It is my first  fic/reaction. I am sorry for any spelling and grammer mistakes. 

Fluff, Angst, Smut (Just a little)

Kim Seokjin

The both of you were on your way home from dinner. The past few weeks had been very stressful for the both of you. Jin had a comeback coming his way and you had multiple deadlines to reach. So, the both of you though it was time to give yourselves a break and go out for some couple quality time. It wasn’t until Jin had parked the car in front of your house, noticing the light that was shining trough the curtains, that you got that weird feeling in your stomach telling you something was wrong.

“Die we leave the lights on?” you questioned, interrupting him mid-sentence. Jin’s brows furrowed, trying to remember how the house looked when you left.

“Stay in the car” was all he said, before he opened his door and made his way to your front door. You watched has he climbed the three little steps in front of your door, before he pushed at it slightly, the wood instantly sliding back. It wasn’t locked. Shocked you follow Jin’s frame with your eyes, which was disappearing in your house. Holding your breath, you waited for what was going to happen next. Another light was flicked on, before a person came bolting outside, running down the little steps. Whoever that person was, definitely wasn’t smart. Slipping on the ice that covered the floor, he fell, hitting his head, knocking himself out. You opened the door, sliding out of you seat and running over to the man laying unconscious on the ground. Jin followed soon, standing in the door way with a frying pan in his hand, ready to swing.

“Is he dead?” was the first thing the idol asked. You threw a glare at him before descending your fingers to the pulse point of the man. Shaking your head as soon as you felt a pulse.

“I bet you’re happy now that I didn’t put salt on the steps this morning when you told me to.” If you weren’t still shocked form the events that just happened you would have thrown your shoe at him, wiping of that stupid smile of his. But you settled for another glare before calling the police.

Min Yoongi

It was 10:32 pm when Yoongi finished the last thing on his To-Do list for the day. Closing the file, he just worked on for the past two hours, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his muscles. A buzzing sound from beside him got his attention and he couldn’t help the lazy smile when he saw you picture appearing on the screen.

“Hey baby. I just finished. I’ll be home in forty, alright?” He was in the procced of shutting down his computer, when he heard you low and breathy voice.

“Yoongi, listen, there are two people in the house. I think they broke in. I can hear them in the living room. I don’t know what to do.” He could hear your voice quivering towards the end. He didn’t bother with the computer anymore, focus solely on you.

“Where are you?” he asked, while grabbing his keys and leaving the room. Door open for everybody, but that was the last of his concerns.

“In our bedroom” came the answer immediately.

“Lock the door and hid in the bathroom. Lock the door there two.” he commanded. You did as he told you. Hiding in the bathtub as soon as you made sure the last door was locked.

“Okay, I’m there. What now?” scared of the outcome of all this, tears started to gather in your eyes. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat and hear it in your head.

“Now, I’m going to hang up so I can call the police, okay baby? I’m still too far away to help you and maybe they are faster.” That was the first time he cursed himself for wanting to rent an apartment so far away from the studio. Without another word he hung up the phone, calling the police immediately and explaining the situation, while he was still driving down the empty roads. Trying not to kill anyone or get killed. They told him they would be there as fast as possible.

You heard the sirens coming closer and closer, feeling slightly safer. You heard them break in through the front door, the robbers still trying to grab as much as they can, not even realising that they were doomed until it was too late. The next thing you heard is what finally made you realise that you were save.

“Y/N? Y/N!” You heard Yoongi banging on the bedroom door. Quickly getting out of the bathtub, unlocking the two doors just as fast. Yoongi’s arms engulfed you the second he laid eyes on you. And that was the moment you couldn’t hold back any longer. Surrounded by his scent, mint and coffee, you couldn’t control your emotions any longer. Tears were rolling down your face, soaking the male’s sweats shirt. And Yoongi held you through it, pulling you closer and whispered over and over that you were save and had nothing to worry. And when you finally calmed down you opened your eyes and looked down to the ground. Not able to stop the little giggle escaping your mouth.

“Babe, where are you shoes?”

Jung Hoseok

There are no words to explain the fear that shot through Hobi’s body when he saw the red and blue lights shining in front of your shared apartment.  There were police officers running around questioning people and pushing others out of the way. Slowly his feet moved one after the other walking through the little crowed that had gathered. He was about to pass them when a police woman pushed him back into the crowed.

“Sir, I’m sorry but you’re not allowed any closer. Please stay put.” She let a hand on his chest to make sure he got the message.

“No, you don’t understand, I life here. That’s my home. Where is Y/N?” he explained, constantly trying to get past the small woman.

“Sir, please, follow the instructions or I’ll have to use force.” A threating comment was about to leave Hoseok lips that he will be the one using force if she didn’t tell him were the love of his life was this instant. But before he could do any of that he heard the voice that could make everything better.

“Hobi, oh my god, Hobi. It’s okay, please let him through. He’s my boyfriend” you screamed as soon as you laid eyes on your dancer. The woman in front of him reluctantly moved out of the way but kept a watchful eye on the young man. But Hoseok’s attention was only on you. The second he could, he captures you in his arms. A hand on the back of your head, pressing you to him.

“Are you alright? What happened?” he asked.

“Someone broke into our home while I was in the shower. Hobi, everything is gone. TV, Laptops, my phone and wallet. Thankfully one of the neighbours saw what happened and called the police. I wouldn’t even know how I could have informed them.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He said, grabbing your hands, making him look at him. “I really don’t care that our TV is gone or any of the other stuff, okay? That’s renewable, but you aren’t. I’m so glad nothing happened to you.” And one more time you found yourself buried in his arms, a place you never want to leave.

Kim Namjoon

You and your husband where awoken by your child’s loud cries. Slowly you rose to your feet, sitting at the edge of the bed for a moment, trying to regain your balance and vision. Your phone on the nightstand told you it was 02:00 am. With a heavy sighing you got up from your place. Moving out of the room and down the hall to your four-month old’s bedroom. A freezing breeze greeted you in the hallway, forcing you to pull Namjoon’s shirt lower. Your pace picked up, having the strong feeling, that something wasn’t alright. Your baby’s screams grew louder as you walked into the room.

Namjoon’s name left your lips in the form of a scream, while you ran to the bed of your child. Lifting the crying baby up and moving away from the broken window. You heard you husbands feet banging against the wood floor, running as fast as possible. The both of you turned on every single light you owned. Or rather Namjoon turning on the lights and you walking behind him with your baby girl still in your arms. The little one followed her father with a curious look in her eyes. Not yet sure if she liked the new game.

After being sure nobody was in the house, you called the police, which arrived shortly after. They took a lot of picture form the crime scene and asked the both of you a lot of questions. Almost two hours later, the three of you lay down in you king sized bed. The broken window was covered with a blanked and tape. You would call someone to fix it in two hours, when you had to get up anyway.

You looked at your husband’s face, the worried stare he had when he entered the baby room had not left him.

“We could have lost her tonight. We, we-“,he couldn’t finish, before the tears were streaming down his face. The thought of what could have happened to you daughter making both your throats tighten.

Park Jimin

Tears were streaming down Jimin’s face as he held on to your pale hand. He couldn’t stop them and J-Hope’s hand on his shoulder did little to lessen the pain. For Jimin it was his fault. 

The reason why you were laying in a hospital bed right now, machines breathing for you. That was all on him. He was the one who said you should go ahead and that he would follow with the grocery bags. You insisted that you’d help him, but he didn’t let you. Why didn’t he let you? If he would have, you wouldn’t have been the first in the house. You wouldn’t have been shot by the guy robbing your house of its belongings. And you most defiantly wouldn’t be laying in that hospital bed right now, fighting for your life. 

So Jimin saw no other person that he could blame, but him. And the only person who could assure him and make him see that it was in fact not his mistake, not his wrong doing. That person was laying in a come right no. Fixed heart beating in your chest and broken boyfriend gripping your hand.

“Please, Y/N, please come back to me. I’m sorry, please. I need you.”

Kim Taehyung

Tae’s face was lit up by his significant smile, as soon as he saw your face appear on the screen. Hurrying to answer the call, not able to contain his happiness at the prospect of talking to you.

“Hey honey. How are you? I miss you so much, you can’t even imaging. Okay maybe you can because you miss me too, but- wait, are that police sirens in the back. Y/N what happened?” By now he was standing in his room, one hand was holding his phone, the other running through his hair, slipping of his hat in the process.

“Hey, babe. I need you to calm down. It’s nothing bad, alright? Just breath.” It’s interesting how your voice always managed to calm him down. Even hundreds of miles away, the melody of you words still had a huge influence on him. However, the second your next words left your mouth, all kind of calmness flew out the window and was replace by a stultifying wariness.

 “I was watching TV in our bedroom, when I heard some noise form downstairs. Someone broke into the house and tried to steal our stuff.”

 “Tried? Y/N, please don’t tell me you did anything stupid?”

 “Okay, first things first, I never do anything thing stupid. Second things second, when I opened the door to our bedroom, to figure out where the noise was coming from, Yeanton ran past me and scared the invader. After that he left immediately. A few things are missing, but not as much as would’ve if Yeanton wouldn’t have been here.” After you finished your little story time, Tae’s heartrate had regulated itself back to a normal beat. A proud smile forming on his face.

 “Oh my god, he did. I knew he would protect his mommy if it was necessary. Tell him he did well. We need to buy him lots of treats for his heroic action.”

After the initial shock was gone the both of you talked about the tour and planed what you would do when he came back. But the second Yeanton jumped into your lap, barking to get you attention, you were forgotten and had to listen to Tae talking through the phone to his dog. And Yeanton who stared at the phone confused, barking from time to time. And one more time you realised how happy you were with you little family. The boys always looking after you and vice versa.

Jeon Jungkook

Your back met the wall next to your door with a low thump. Jungkook’s body pressing you into the surface immediately. His lips were still connected to yours, tongues fighting for dominance. You could feel his arms flailing around, as he tried to find his keys. A frustrated sound left his throat, when he didn’t find the object. He released your lips, taking a step back and continuing his search. A whine left your lips at the loss of contact. 

That’s when you took a lock at the door next to you, noticing, how it was slightly open. You stretched a hand out to the male in front of you, planting it against his chest, making him stop. Jungkook looked at you, confused, why you would stop him. Although it was hard for him to focus, with all the blood running southwards at the moment, he notices the unordinary scene in front of him. Without a second thought, he walked towards the door, pushing it open. You hooked your hand into one of the loops of his trousers, hiding behind him. Your apartment was covered in black, only the moon providing enough vision to make out your furniture. The both of you walked deeper into the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible. A movement to right caught your attention, turning your head, a loud gasped escaped you. A man was standing in your kitchen, a knife in his hand. Jungkook was alarmed by your reaction, rotating the both of you, so he was standing like a shield before you.

“Please, take everything you want, but don’t hurt us.” Jungkook’s voice was strong, not letting the man know, how much his appearance and the weapon in his hand scared him. When the man took a step in your direction, the both of you took one back. Jungkook’s hand setting on your waist, pushing you farther behind him.

“Jungkook? Y/N?” You heard the voice from a sleeping Jimin, tumbling down the stairs. For a moment both of your attention were on the small feet that came into view. When you turned back around, the mystery man was gone. And you had never been so thankful for the older boy’s heart break, wich caused him to move in with you. Not wanting to know, what could have happened, if he didn’t come done stairs the moment he did.

  �

[tails89]

Unbreakable

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz Rating: T Warnings: None Words: 2.7k

Read on AO3

All it takes is one split second.

Buck had been right there beside him, talking into his radio, confirming they were on their way out.

And then he was gone.

The floor had caved in beneath them with a thunderous crack and somehow—Eddie still can’t fathom how— somehow, Buck had managed to shove Eddie to the side before disappearing in a shower of smoke and smouldering wood.

“Buck!” He screams, kneeling on the edge of the hole and peering over. He can see the yellow stripe on the back of Buck’s coat, unmoving beneath the debris. “Captain Nash, this is Eddie.” He fumbles with the radio. “Buck is down. He went through the floor, I can’t— he’s not moving.”

He doesn’t wait for the reply. Eddie scrambles to his feet heading back towards the staircase that will take him to the ground floor.

“Chim is on his way to you.” The radio crackles to life. “Can you get down to Buck and give us a report on his condition?”

“Yeah, copy that.” Eddie takes the stairs, two at a time. “I’ve almost got him.” He skids to a halt, dropping to his knees beside Buck. As far as he can tell, the turnout gear has protected him from serious burns, but the fact that Buck’s unconscious is a serious concern.

It’s probably only been a minute or two, time moves at a strange pace when you’re trying not to panic, but any blow hard enough to knock someone out is dangerous.

“Buck?” Eddie knocks away bits of debris. “Can you hear me? Open your eyes, cariño.” He rubs his closed fist against Buck’s chest, breathing a sigh or relief when it prompts a groan from the younger firefighter. “Hey, there you are. Just stay still for me.” His heart is still pounding as he clears a space around Buck, afraid to move him before Chim arrives but also mindful of the burning building around them.

“Eddie?”

“I’m right here.” He leans into Buck’s field of vision. “I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

Buck blinks up at him, his eyes fluttering shut for a second before he drags them back open.

“Don’t even think about it,” Eddie warns, glancing up as another figure arrives. “Eyes open Buck, or I’ll tell Chim what you said about him this morning.”

“What’s this?” Chim asks, kneeling opposite Eddie. “Buck’s talking shit about me again?”

“Nothing that wasn’t true,” Buck mumbles.

“If you say so, Buckaroo.” Chim moves quickly, assessing Buck’s ability to move before nodding to Eddie.

“Alright, time to get out of here,” Eddie says. “Let us do all the work okay?”

“You’re good at that, right Buck?” Chim pipes up, earning a pained smile from their patient. They each hook an arm across their shoulders and heft Buck upright. He groans, eyes squeezing shut from the movement.

Eddie and Chimney carry him out into the fresh air, carefully lying him down away from the fire, then get to work.

Hen joins them as they strip him of his jacket and start a more thorough assessment of his injuries. Eddie kneels by his head, keeping up a steady stream of reassuring chatter as Hen and Chim poke and prod and jostle.

Buck doesn’t say anything, just gives short jerking nods when he’s asked a question, eyes scrunched up in pain and discomfort.

Eddie reaches down to grab Buck’s hand; the one Hen hasn’t just inserted an IV into and gives it a squeeze. The fingers in his grip tighten in response.

“Ready to transport, cap,” Hen calls out when she’s done. The three of them get Buck on the backboard and transfer him to the stretcher.

“Bobby?” Eddie glances over at his captain, still clutching Buck’s hand.

“Go,” Bobby tells him. “Keep us updated.”

With a nod, Eddie follows Chimney up into the back of the ambulance.

The ride to the hospital is tense, even with Chimney cracking jokes to lighten the mood.

Buck is in and out, drowsy with a probable concussion and who knows what else. Eddie can feel the panic clawing at his throat, but he manages to keep it together, never once letting go of Buck’s hand until they reach the hospital. He focuses on the point of contact, using the warmth of Buck’s skin to keep grounded and remind himself that Buck will be okay.

It feels like it takes no time at all to reach the hospital. Hen does the handover while Chim and Eddie help transfer Buck from the stretcher to a bed.

“Let us know what happens,” Chim says, giving Eddie a clap on the shoulder, and promising to be back after their shift.

The hospital staff try to send Eddie away too, but Buck has come around enough that he is not having that.

“I’m his partner,” Eddie explains, laying a calming hand on Buck’s shoulder. One of the nurses has cut away his pants to inspect the burns on his leg and another is tearing through his shirt. “Please, I won’t get in the way.”

Buck is pretty out of it once they give him some pain relief. He gets wheeled away for imaging tests and Eddie takes the opportunity duck outside to text Bobby an update and call Carla to ask if she can take Chris to stay with his aunt.

Chris, of course, immediately wants to come and stay with Eddie at the hospital.

“It’ll be boring, kiddo,” Eddie tells him. “Just lots of waiting around and Buck will probably be asleep.”

“But what about when he wakes up?” Chris asks. “He shouldn’t wake up alone, dad.” And Eddie just can’t with this kid. He wonders, not for the first time, how he managed to raise someone with such a big heart.

“He won’t be alone,” Eddie promises. “I’ll be here, and maybe tía Pepa can bring you over in the morning. I know Buck will want to see you when he wakes up, but tonight he needs his rest.”

“Okay, dad.”

Eddie doesn’t need to see his son to know how hard he’s pouting at the phone right now.

“Tell Buck I love him.”

“I will. You be good for Pepa. Love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

Eddie disconnects the call with a sigh then goes to check his messages. There’s a text message from Chimney saying he’d called Maddie.

“Shit.” Eddie quickly scrolls to her number. He’d completely forgotten in all the chaos—Maddie should have been the first person he’d called.

“Eddie?”

“Maddie, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t worry about it, Chim called me and let me know what happened. How is my little brother?”

“He’s going to be okay.” Eddie rattles off some of the words that had been thrown around in the emergency room. “Concussion, second degree burns on his legs, maybe cracked ribs?” He takes a deep breath. “They’re doing some more testing to determine the severity of the concussion, but they didn’t seem overly concerned.”

“That’s good news at least,” Maddie says. “Evan just can’t do things by halves can he?”

Eddie huffs out a soft laugh. “Half-assing it just isn’t in his vocabulary.” The ball of anxiety that’s been sitting in his chest for the better part of an hour finally starts to unwind.

“I’ll be there soon,” Maddie says. “And Chim said he was going to head over. Have you eaten yet? I’ll bring you something.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Eddie assures her.

“I know, but you must be starving. Chim definitely will be.”

“Thanks Maddie.”

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yeah.” The call ends with a beep and Eddie shoves his phone back into his pocket. He’s still wearing his turnouts, he realises belatedly. His coat is draped over the chair behind him, his helmet balances on a knee.

“Mr Diaz?” One of the nurses beckons him over. “We’re admitting Evan,” she tells him. “If you’d like to come with me, I’ll take you up to his room.”

“He’s okay?” Eddie follows her down the corridor towards the elevator.

“Nothing nasty turned up in the MRI,” she explains. “His helmet protected him from any skull fractures, but he still got his brains rattled about pretty good.”

The elevator doors open with a ding, and they step inside.

“He’s got a couple of cracked ribs and the burns on his legs will need to be monitored to ensure they don’t get infected.”

“How long before he can come home?” Eddie asks.

“His doctor wants to keep him overnight to monitor the concussion, but all going well, he’ll likely be released tomorrow, maybe the day after at the latest.”

When the lift stops, she leads him out to a room on the ward. Eddie pushes the door open to step inside.

“Buck?”

The lights are low, but it’s still easy to make him out on the bed. Eddie drags a chair over, taking a seat at Buck’s side.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I fell through a floor and had the whole house land on me,” Buck croaks, looking a lot more alert than the last time Eddie had seen him. He’s still pale and drawn, but it’s good to hear his voice.

“Well—”

“Don’t say it,” Buck groans. He swallows, his face paling even more, something Eddie wouldn’t have thought possible. His birthmark stands out in stark relief against his skin.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, reaching for Buck’s hand. He rubs circles into the skin of Buck’s wrist.

“Nausea.”

“I can help with that.” The nurse who’d shown Eddie up to the room is still hovering nearby. “I’ll go have a chat with the doctor and be back in a minute.” She hands Buck an emesis basin before she leaves, just in case.

Alone in the room, Eddie reaches with his free hand to run his fingers through Buck’s hair. He’s careful not to use too much pressure and aggravate anything but Buck seems to appreciate it, sinking down further into his pillow.

“How are you really feeling?” Eddie asks, his thumb trailing across Buck’s temple.

“Like shit,” Buck mumbles. “Nothing… hurts? But I know it’s going to later.” He shuts his eyes, swallowing convulsively to keep from being sick, clutching the basin in his free hand.

Fortunately, the nurse returns before he has to use it. She gives him something and leaves them alone again.

“You should get back to Chris.” Nausea dealt with, Buck is loose-limbed and sleepy, blinking up at Eddie.

“Chris is fine,” Eddie assures him. “He’s spending the night with Pepa. He wants to come by and see you tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” Buck’s eyes drift shut and his breathing evens out into sleep.

Eddie watches him for a moment, still running his fingers through Buck’s hair, until he’s sure he’s truly out. He pulls out his phone to see that Maddie, Chim, Bobby and Hen have all arrived.

He stands, pressing a kiss to Buck’s forehead and goes downstairs to meet his family.

~

Maddie is the one who convinces Eddie to go home.

He’s grimy with sweat and soot from the fire they had been attending and she gives him her best big sister stare and tells him under no uncertain terms that he stinks.

“And I mean that in a loving way,” she says, handing over a box of Chinese takeout.

He sits outside with Chim and Hen to eat, while Maddie and Bobby head upstairs to check on Buck for themselves.

“How’s our boy doing?” Hen asks.

“He’ll be fine,” Eddie says. “He’ll be sore and grumpy when I take him hope, but you know Buck.”

“Yeah, I don’t envy you there,” Chim says. “Buck is the worst patient, so have fun with that.”

After they eat Bobby gives him a ride back to the station to collect his car.

“I’ve called Marcus in to cover your shift tomorrow,” Bobby says as Eddie is climbing out of the car. “If you still need time after your days off, let me know.”

“Thanks Bobby.”

“Don’t mention it, you just take care of Buck for us. And take care of yourself too.” Bobby drives off and Eddie walks to his car before he starts getting too many questions from B shift. Buck is a well-liked member of the 118 and everyone wants to send Eddie off with well-wishes to pass on.

It’s late by the time Eddie finally gets home.

With Chris off at Pepa’s and Buck at the hospital, the house is dark and quiet. Too quiet, in Eddie’s opinion.

He turns the TV just to give himself some background noise while he showers and changes for bed.

It takes a long time to fall asleep.

~

Eddie picks Chris up in the morning on his way back to the hospital.

Chris has a thousand questions about what happened, and will Buck be okay, and when can they bring him home.

It strikes Eddie that he’d said the same thing the night before. He’d asked the nurse when he could bring Buck home.

For all the time they spent together and as much as Buck was a part of the family with Eddie and Chris, he did still technically have his own apartment. Not that he used it that much. Eddie had been able to pack a bag using the clothes Buck had stuffed into a drawer in Eddie’s room. There was a toothbrush on the sink for when Buck stayed the night.

Maybe it was time for Eddie to finally ask Buck to move in.

The thought keeps him distracted the whole way to the hospital. He’s still mulling it over as he helps Chris down from the back seat and leads the way up to Buck’s room.

“He’s asleep, dad.” Chris is disappointed when they open the door and Buck is still fast asleep.

He’s got a bit of colour in his cheeks this morning. He doesn’t look quite so pale against the starched white hospital sheets.

“You sleep a lot too when you’re not feeling well,” Eddie reminds his son, pulling up a second chair and moving Chris’s crutches to a spot where they’re not going to trip anyone up. “Have you got your game with you?”

Nodding, Chris pulls his Switch from his backpack, content to play his game while they wait for Buck to wake.

It doesn’t take long. The thing with hospitals is that they’re never really quiet and Buck jerks awake when something is dropped just outside his room.

“Hey, you.” Eddie leans forward in his chair and waits for Buck to get his bearings. “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh, I feel like shi—” he notices Chris on the other side of the bed, “-t.” He grimaces. “Sorry, brain could thing of anything fast enough.”

“I think we’ll let it slide this time,” Eddie says, grinning.

“Dad says sometimes bad words are okay.” Chris puts away his game and stands, shifting his weight so he can lean against the bed for balance. “I’m glad you’re okay Buck, I missed you last night.”

“I missed you too bud,” Buck says, reaching out to ruffle Chris’s curls. “Just seeing you makes me feel better already.”

Chris beams at the words and Eddie feels his heart swell.

“So,” Buck shifts on the bed, his face tightens as he jars something, probably his ribs, but he doesn’t mention it. “Any idea when I can get out of here?”

“I was talking to a nurse last night who said you’ll probably be released today,” Eddie tells him. “But we’ll have to wait until the doctor gives you the okay.”

“Hospitals are the worst,” Buck groans, his head tipping back against the pillows. “Right Chris?” Chris nods and Buck pats the bed. “Why don’t you show me the game you were playing while we wait.”

~

Buck is discharged late that afternoon.

He makes a fuss about using the wheelchair, but when he tries to stand all the blood drains from his face and he has to sit back down real fast.

“Ready to try the wheelchair now?” Eddie asks him, keeping a gentle hand on Buck’s shoulder in case he tries to faceplant again.

“Yeah.” The word comes out in one long breath. “Sorry, I didn’t think it would hurt that much.”

“When we get home, I’ll make up the couch for you,” Eddie says, “and you’re staying there for the rest of the week.”

“Home?” Buck glances up sharply.

“My home,” Eddie clarifies, then after a moment’s hesitation says, “Our home.”

“I like the sound of that,” Buck says, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Okay Eds, take me home.”

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Love On-Set (Pt. 03 of 10)

Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.

<- Previous part (02)

Next part (04) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Something Else

Walking among the girls, you finish your milkshake and throw the empty cup away. Natalia invited you for a girls night out at the mall, to relax and introduce you to Millie and Sadie. You just bought a new dress and a necklace to match, and now you're just looking for new interesting stores.

You really needed this tonight. As you keep up with their conversations, you can't help but think about what James told you to do. The kissing scene will need a lot of courage, not only professionalism. You've been telling yourself it's just a kiss and that this is your job, but somehow it's not enough. But it's normal, isn't it? To be nervous about kissing a handsome guy.

After a while, you all sit at a table, wondering what to eat for dinner. Nothing healthy, you agreed.

“(Y/N). How are things going with you?” Millie asks, getting your attention. “Are you enjoying playing Amy?”

“I am. She's an amazing character and I like her development.”

“Her whole arch happens around Billy and he needed Amy,” Sadie adds, still finishing her ice cream. “It's good to know he'll change.”

“And how are things with Dacre?” Natalia asks. “The two of them were chatting a lot today in the van.” It gets you some giggles and meaningful stares.

“Dacre wants to make me feel comfortable around him since... We'll be acting a lot together.”

“Dacre is very sweet. You'll have no problems acting with him.” Sadie says, and Millie nods.

“There's a kissing scene, isn't there?” Natalia makes the favor of reminding you of the only thing you're trying not to think about. “It will be a turning point for the characters.”

“Yes, it's scheduled for a couple of weeks from now but...” If you keep this a secret, it'll become a big deal, and you don't want it to be a big deal. And you're among girls who might actually be able to help. “James wants Dacre and I to do it before. The whole thing. Get it on camera and send it to him. He told us that we're doing so well that he wants to push it to the next level.”

“I watched your scene together earlier today. You seemed pretty nervous.” Natalia says, typing something on her phone before looking at you again. “I'm not sure if it was Amy or if it was you.”

“Good question.” You mutter, not sure if you should tell them your insecurities. “I'll just do it. It'll happen anyway.”

“Have you spoken to Dacre about it?” Millie asks.

“Not yet.”

“Then do it. I'm sure he'll make you feel comfortable.” Millie has a funny expression on her face, and you wonder what's she's thinking about. She gives Sadie a glance, then Natalia.

“Yes, just sit and talk. Like in the van. You two seemed pretty comfortable around each other.” Natalia shrugs her shoulders, smiling.

“I get that she's nervous. Any girl would be nervous about kissing Dacre. I mean, look at the guy.” Francesca remarks, and you nod, happy that she spoke it and you didn't have to.

“Thank you.” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. “It's just natural.”

“Of course it is.” Millie states after whispering something with Sadie. “He's single, by the way.”

“Oh.” You haven't given that any thought. It never crossed your mind because when it's a job, you have to do it anyway. But now... Now it won't leave you alone. “That's... That's good.”

“What about you?” Francesca gives you a look.

“Single too.” You keep your voice low, trying not to make it such a big deal.

“Isn't that great," Millie exclaims. “I did say Natalia and Charlie would have a thing and I was right. And this...” She points a finger at you, smirking. “...I see this going down the same road.”

Gasping, you nervously giggle. “I wouldn't count on it. It's Dacre we're talking about, he's...” Your voice fades since you don't really know what to say.

“Gorgeous? Yeah, we all can see that. But he never approached any girl on set as he approached you, so...”

“Well, I won't give it much thought, Millie. I need to focus on Amy. On bringing her to life.” Nodding, more to yourself then to the girls, you make a self note to stick to your job. You're probably just mesmerized by everything, but it'll soon fade away and you'll be able to act as a professional around him.

At least you hope so.

•••

The next two weeks are hectic. You've been on set all day, shooting all the scenes at the pool. In between the takes you met the kids, and everyone was very kind to you. James never seems to get Heather's scenes right, which means you always have to stay in the background as she walks around. And there's also some scenes with the kids and Nancy, on which Amy tells her what she saw in the woods, what will bring the characters together. James wants all the scenes in the pool during daylight done before moving ahead, so there won't be anything else happening until everything is perfect.

You don't mind though. This routine has been keeping you from thinking too much about the director's request. You haven't spoken to Dacre about it yet, and James seems to have forgotten. After another long day, you showered and changed into your own clothes and headed to the van that will take you back to the hotel. You're the first one to get there, so you pull the door, leaving it wide open for the others, and move to your usual place at the back of the van. Putting the headphones on, you close your eyes, feeling the song.

A sudden movement snaps you out of your state, and you open your eyes again, seeing Dacre as he comes to his usual seatnbeside you. “Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt.” He says with a smile. It's been part of the routine now. Dacre always seats with you, and you talk all the way to and from the set.

“You didn't, I was–”

“Dacre!” Someone calls from outside, and he sighs before turning around and stopping by the door. “Is (Y/N) there?”

“Yes.” As he answers, you make your way to the door to, poking your head out to see Ryan, James' assistant, coming your way and stopping a few feet away.

“James asked me to remind you of the scene he wants you to go over. The kiss.” He says, covering his eyes with one hand to protect them from the setting sun.

“Alright. Thanks, Ryan.” You say before heading back to your seat, feeling as Dacre follows you.

Just sit and talk. You've been chatting a lot during the last few days, and this is just something you'll have to do. “I–”

“Why don't you come over to my room tonight?” You burst out, cursing yourself for cutting him off. “An hour after we get to the hotel so we'll have some time to rest and relax before getting into work again.” The words come out fast, and you avoid his eyes.

“Why are you so nervous about it?”

“I'm not.” You answer too fast again, taking a deep breath and biting your lip.

“I always have the feeling you're holding things back.” His voice is low and sweet, and it makes you look at him, despite the heat on your cheeks. “It's alright if you're nervous about it, I just hope I'm not making you feel so uncomfortable.”

“You're not, I promise.” You can't let Dacre think he's doing something wrong. So you take a deep breath and turn your body towards him, folding one leg under you. “It's just that...” Being honest was never so hard. “Any girl would be nervous about kissing you. That's it.” Running a hand through your hair, you look down. “I know it's our job and everything but...”

“Well, it's good to know I'm not the only one who's anxious about it.” Dacre sounds different, almost as if he didn't really want you to hear him.

Meeting his eyes again, an eyebrow raised, you try to understand what he means. “But you had kissing scenes before, why would you be anxious?”

He's about to answer when the guys start coming in, laughing and joking around. “(Y/N). We were looking for you.” Millie says, settling down on the roll before you. “But when I noticed Dacre was nowhere to be found too I figured out you'd both be here.” She winks before turning around, facing away from you.

As if you needed another reason to be as red as a tomato.

“An hour then,” Dacre says, leaning closer to your ear.

• • •

As soon as you get to the hotel, in your room, you start overthinking. Why are you overthinking? You knew there would be a kissing scene when you first got the script, and yet, you accepted the role. Why is it driving you insane now?

Trying to calm yourself down, you take a shower, wash your hair, and tries to keep your mind on anything else than Stranger Things right now. Once you're done, you decide to put something to watch, something that will need your attention. So you pick Black Mirror, a show long abandoned, that you just remembered how good it is. But, despite the very interesting episode, you're checking your phone every now and then, counting down the minutes until the hour has passed. Bouncing your leg up and down, you look at the TV without paying much attention. When you're pissed at yourself, you decide to watch the episode from the beginning again. You're ten minutes into it when someone knocks.

Taking a deep breath and pausing the show, you stand up and head towards the door, nervously running a hand through your hair. Swinging the door open, you can't help but smile at Dacre. “Hi again.”

“Hi. Haven't seen you in such a long time.” He jokes as you step aside to let him come in.

“Yes, I was starting to miss you.” You regret saying that the moment the words come out, felling your cheeks going red already. Biting your lip, you guide him to the couch, where the two of you take a seat.

“Is this Black Mirror?” Dacre asks, gesturing at the TV.

“It is. I was trying to watch it.”

“I already did, it's very good.” He looks at you. “Press play.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you wonder if he really meant that. This meeting is for the scene. Isn't it? “Uhm... Shouldn't we just...”

“Let's just watch an episode. We both need a break from work.”

“Alright.” Shrugging your shoulders, you do as he says, pressing play and turning your attention to the TV.

Dacre makes few comments about the episode, and he seems amused at your confusion through it, as you try to understand what the hell is going on.

“Shit, I wasn't expecting that.” You exclaim in the end, raising an eyebrow at Dacre's giggles. “That's insane. They'll just restart her torture.”

“That right there.” He suddenly speaks, a finger pointed at your face. “Hold on to this reaction. That's why I love Black Mirror. You only get this feeling once.”

Chuckling at his face, you look down. “What now?”

“Next one. It's already starting.”

You don't complain, you just enjoy the show. It's a weird feeling to have Dacre here, but you feel... Comfortable around him. Maybe he did succeded with his plan after all. The rather brief time you had talking in the van was enough to get to know him a little bit and get used to his presence. To start missing him. Two episodes later you decide to order room service. But not a proper dinner. You both agree on fries, chicken wings, and onion rings. Not healthy at all, but Dacre doesn't seem to be worried about it.

“You shouldn't be eating this.” You tease him, the two of you casually seated on the floor, the food scattered on the coffee table. “Billy still has to show off those perfect six-pack abs.”

“You too, sweetheart.” He snaps back, and you giggle at the nickname. “We should hit the gym tomorrow then. Since we only have to show up in the afternoon and you're already feeling guilty for eating all this junk food.”

“I don't feel guilty. It's not my fault all the best foods aren't healthy.” Winking at him, you lean forward to get one of his fries since yours are long gone. “Hope you don't mind.” Dacre gives you a look, biting back a smile, but doesn't say anything. “Gym tomorrow then. If nobody invites me somewhere better.”

“If they do, you'll just tell them you already have a date.”

His choice of words makes you giggle, shaking your head slightly to brush off any ideas. “What are we shooting tomorrow?” You decide to ask, just to change the subject.

“Billy and Amy will have a fight and I'll have to throw you over my shoulder.”

Oh. That scene. “Well, I'm ticklish, so be careful.” You're not sure how you feel about that scene. It's not as bad as the kiss, but there will be a lot of touching and eye contact, and all that stuff that brings you to the verge of breaking character a hundred times.

“I will let you find out for yourself if it was a good idea to tell me that.” There's a threat in his tone, and you bite your lip.

“I'm not scared of you, Mr. Montgomery.” Taking a sip from your soda, you stand up. “You should be scared of me. I suffocate people with my feelings, I might want to suffocate you.” The joke doesn't sound as funny as you intended. It's more like dark humor to you, and you just hope he'll laugh, but he doesn't. Dacre just stays there, his head slightly raised so he can look at you from he's seated position.

“I'm not scared of feelings.”

“Yeah, I know.” Taking a deep breath, you notice you just ruined the mood. Dacre knows a little about your father now, about the whole argument before he disappeared and how it changed you. How it shaped you into not sharing what's inside your heart. You don't know exactly why, but with Dacre, things just come out. “Sorry, it's just... What I normally tell people.”

“And you expect this to scare them away?”

“I don't know. I honestly don't know.” Settling down on the couch, you curse yourself for turning such a pleasing evening into whatever this is now. “Sorry if I killed the mood.”

“You didn't.” Dacre moves to the couch too, his blue eyes locked on yours. “You know you can tell anything, right? It won't scare or suffocate me. I want to listen.”

You wonder if he knows how he makes you feel when he talks like that. Low, deep voice sending chills down your spine. Dacre makes you feel comfortable in a way nobody else did, and it almost impels you to talk. To open your heart.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Have you ever been in love?” The question gets you off guard, and you furrow your eyebrows, trying to understand where he's going with this. “Being in love is a confusion of sentiments. Everything... Blossoms in unexpected ways. It's hard to understand, it's hard to describe, it's hard to know what to do. If you ever loved someone, you must have told him how you felt. Him or anyone else, at least for some advice.”

You stop to think a little, but the answer is obvious. “No, I haven't. I mean... I had a crush here and there, but being in love... It never happened before. What about you?”

“Never happened before,” Dacre repeats your words. “But I know how it should feel like. I bet you have an idea too.”

“Yeah... It should feel like yyour heart was just... Taken. Suddenly stolen and you don't know what to do and it feels good not knowing.” You don't know what happens, but you just say it. And you have no idea how exactly you're putting this into words. It just feels right, as stupid as it may sound. “You just wait and hope to see what happens. And you pray that whatever it is, it's good.” There's this feeling building up. Maybe it's Dacre's eyes, never leaving yours, provoking this. You just spoke as if you're living it. As you're feeling it. “I'm sorry, it probably sounds ridiculous.”

“No, it doesn't. I feel the exactly–” Dacre stops speaking suddenly, clearing his throat. “I understand you. And it's not ridiculous. On these modern days, people have become so superficial, it's hard to find someone who's not afraid of what they feel.”

“I am afraid of what I feel.” Admitting it's hard, and it hurts a little. You hate the fact that you allowed your father to get into your head that way, and how you still rather hold back your heart after so many years. Your mother does exactly the same. She never got into any relationship after that night, not for too long. But she always tells you not to follow her path.

“You don't have to be, not with me.” Dacre takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise, you can trust me. I'm so... Tired of meaningless people in my life and you, in the last five minutes shared more of your heart with me than many of my friends have in years.”

“You're the first person I've met in years who actually wanted to listen to my bullshit.” Giggling, you look down, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. “These last weeks have been nice... Thanks to you. And to the others too. I made good friends.”

“So did I.” When you look at Dacre, he's smiling. It's so pure and gentle, it warms your heart. “It's a bit late now. I'll let you get some sleep so you will be well-rested to hit the gym with me tomorrow.” He stands up and you do the same.

“It will be good to have some blood flowing before you have Amy yelling at your face.” Walking him to the door, you sigh as you pull it open.

“Poor Billy.” He mumbles, stepping out and turning around to face you again. “See you tomorrow then. At eight?”

A little too soon for your taste. You were planning on waking up late since the shooting only starts after lunch, but you won't tell him that. You're more than happy to change your plans. “Eight.”

“Good night, (Y/N).” Dacre stands there for a few minutes before leaning closer and placing a kiss on your cheek. “Have good dreams.”

“You too.” Your voice is barely a whisper, and you stand at the door, watching as he leaves.

Once you're in the security of your room, the door closed behind your back, you allow yourself to smile. To let your mind race a little bit, but not too much. Maybe you're misreading the signs. Dacre is a sweetheart to everyone, always a good, trustworthy friend. And if that's what he's supposed to be to you, you'll gladly accept it.

But still, there's a little spark in your heart, one that can't help but hope. Hope that there will be something more. Something else.

As you make your way to the bed, you catch yourself feeling a different kind of nervousness towards the kissing scene.

×

@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelanin @skykittyssuff @foccus @multific @uncookspaget @kellysimagines

[hammeredalcoholic]

wicked game

josuke higashikata/reader

this is a birthday commission for a special person, @big–gulp! i hope you enjoy it sis, and have a wonderful birthday!!!

the world was on fire and no one could save me but you it’s strange what desire will make foolish people do

rated: 18+/nsfw

Smears of red and orange painted the sky across Morioh. The sun had started to set, leaving the ocean glimmering a mixture of green. It was enticing to look at– to study, to take pictures of. The waves crashing softly against the sandy beaches, rolling back and forth in a steady motion. It was so beautiful. Although, it always has been. 

Dusty white clouds swirled around overhead, passing in front of the sun’s bright gaze. Josuke had practically memorized this scene, seeing it over and over again from his youth until now. No matter how many years had passed, it always managed to take his breath away. 

Except tonight. 

His head was fuzzy. His thoughts were unfocused, and he simply couldn’t be brought to the same familiar feeling. Josuke didn’t know what had happened to him, or why he simply couldn’t take in the wonderful sight along Morioh’s coast. Deep down, it scared him. 

Despite this, he continued to make his rounds. A police officer couldn’t be spotted slacking off, after all. Even if the sunset was outstanding tonight. His feet trudged forward, and with each step he took, his mind got lost. 

You were there. In the frontlines. Your eyes, your face, your beautiful smile. All there, all for him. It made his heart warm, his blood pumping fast in his veins. How had he managed to get this way? How could just the thought of you be corrupting him like this?

Josuke was a strong man. He prided himself on that, being the top of his class when he entered the task force, making sure he took everything in stride. He wanted to be the best of the best, and he wanted to make everyone proud of him. 

At least, that’s what he thought. That was before you showed up.

He can barely remember the details of it. It was foggy, a distant memory that he had to reach deep for. But then again, it felt clear as day. Something he could not possibly forget. 

You had recently moved to Morioh. He wasn’t sure where you had come from– but he knew that it was States. He just didn’t recall which one. It was his job to keep the city in line, and make sure he knew of all the people who lived there, so meeting you didn’t take a whole lot of time. 

It was at the beach, actually. The sun had been at high noon, baring down hotly against the shoreline. You were there. Your feet in the water, looking down at the waves licking at your ankles. To him, it seemed like you hadn’t truly experienced the ocean before. 

Josuke approached you, careful not to scare you in the process, despite how funny it may be. He introduced himself, telling you that he was the local police officer, and just wondered why you decided to move to Morioh. 

The smile he got in response almost knocked him off his feet. It was so kind, so tooth-rottingly sweet. “I just wanted a change of pace. Experience the world a little bit, y’know?” He actually didn’t know. Josuke had never once ventured out of Japan. He had heard stories about his father’s trips, Italy, Egypt– they sounded fun, yes, but he just couldn’t see himself leaving Morioh. 

Although he just agreed, wanting to see your face contort in happiness again. 

Back then, things were simple. You were a kind face, with a wonderful personality. It was nothing more, nothing less. But, things tended to change, didn’t they?

Josuke wasn’t sure what had happened from there. The details were a mess, full of inexcusable thoughts and actions. He didn’t even know how you managed to get his phone number– but it’s not like it mattered anymore anyways.

He had your contact saved, and that’s what mattered. 

The sun had now passed over the horizon. A deep blue coated the sky, the moon rising and shining gently, illuminating the waves in a way the sun never could. The street lights had clicked on, covering his path in a muted yellow. The sounds of bustling cars and people had calmed, giving Josuke a sigh of relief. 

It was finally time to head home. 

As his footsteps echoed against the concrete sidewalks, his mind drifted again. You were there once more– like when he had first met you. Pants rolled up to your lower calves, shoes discarded and hair whipping around your face from the salty breeze. 

The image alone sent warmth ripping through his body. Josuke quickly shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, balling them up until his knuckles turned white. Is this what it felt like? He’d heard stories, far-fetched tales from his friends and relatives, but he’d never really believed in them.

He needed to feel it for himself. 

And yet, with the way his heart pounded in his chest, he couldn’t be brought to disregard it. He’s never truly felt this way before– occasional girlfriends, and yes maybe a boyfriend, but the feelings were never like this. They never managed to fog his mind like this, so much to the point of becoming nearly sick. 

What did make him sick was the fact that he didn’t know how you felt. It was like a pit in his stomach, all dark and encompassing, reminding him that he could be the only one feeling like this. It didn’t matter how kind and caring you might be– you have never once told him how you felt, in any of this. 

It terrified him to think that only he felt this way. That it was all one-sided. That you could be using him, of all things. 

That thought sent a cold sweat across his brow. How could he manage this much longer? He wanted to tell you how he felt, really he did– but yet he was scared. Josuke was scared that you would reject him. Turn your nose up, and tell him that he wasn’t worth your time anymore. 

He felt his hands shake in his pockets, and the air around him grew cold. Suffocating, even. 

Was this what it was like?

Dizziness flooded his system, and he quickly grabbed onto a near-by lamp post. 

It couldn’t be. He couldn’t believe it. But still– the thought lingered. 

Was this love? 

The sound of his phone ringing cut through his thoughts like a sharp knife. It seared in his mind, and he quickly moved to pull the device out of his pocket. Looking down at it, his eyes grew wide. No, not now. Why now? 

It was your name that flashed on the screen. 

Your face appeared in his mind once more, so beautiful and gorgeous– 

“Josuke?” 

His heart stopped beating. Your voice was quiet, hushed tones with a touch of need. He knew what that voice meant. It was always the same thing, the same request. The pit in his gut felt like it was getting deeper and darker by the second. 

“Hey.” Was that all he could say? Josuke mentally slapped himself, bringing his other hand up to rub at his eyes. “What’s up?” 

Your voice was so sweet in the receiver. 

“Oh, I just got home. Thought I’d give you a call.” Yeah, that’s all it was, huh? Josuke doubted it. You were always innocent, never once giving away the true intentions behind your sudden interruptions. 

“Oh. I’m headed home myself.” He replied quickly, deciding that the best course of action would be to follow through with his statement. He moved off the lamp post and headed back in the direction of his house. His footsteps were slow and steady, not wanting to cover up your voice. 

“I see. In that case, why don’t you take a detour?” 

“A detour?” Josuke simply asked, his fingers clutching at his phone for dear life. His heart was hyperactive again, and he swore that if the ocean wasn’t so damn loud, you’d be able to hear it. 

“Yeah. I’d like to talk.” He heard a shift from your end, and then your voice dropped low, almost a growl. “I want to talk until you can’t walk anymore.”

Josuke practically started running in your direction then and there, but he stopped himself. He couldn’t seem eager– no, that would give something away. Huffing out a small breath, he pulled his phone closer to his ear. 

“Alright, well. I’m thinking about taking that detour.” He simply stated, bringing his footsteps to a stop. Your voice was back to sweet, caressing his ear and making a shiver run down his spine. “Great. I’ll see you soon, Officer Higashikata.”

Josuke almost dropped his phone when you hung up. Your words bounced around in his head, sultry tones making his thoughts foggy. He didn’t even realize that his feet had started to lead him in the direction of your house, until it soon came into view. 

What the hell? How could he have walked this far without consciously knowing?

Well. It’s not like it mattered much anyways. Slowly making his way to the door, he hesitated. Did he really want to continue this? Was this really something he wanted? His heart was practically pounding in his chest.

Should he turn away?

Forget that you even called him, and make the trek to his house. It would avoid the feelings that plagued his mind– maybe it was for the best that you didn’t know. Josuke let out a shaky breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

The air had cooled tremendously since the sun had gone down, and small touches of vapor expelled from his lips. He wishes that he could disappear. Just completely vanish– not a trace of him left, just so he doesn’t have to deal with the heart break. 

How could you be doing this to him? What changed him? 

It was just sex. It’s always been just sex. 

But your eyes– your words, your sweet touches– everything about you was alluring to him. Soft sighs and mewls, the way your body was practically made for him. It was too much. Too much for his brain, too much for his heart.

And now, it was too much for his dick. 

Pushing all of his thoughts into the back of his mind, Josuke lifted his hand and swiftly knocked on your door. The wood creaked under his fingers, and it was a sound that he was all too familiar with. It was almost torture– waiting for you to get up and answer him.

It almost made him turn around and leave.

But then there you were. The door opened with a creak, and you stood there. Beautiful– dressed in a white gown, your hair framing your face, your eyes piercing into his soul. It made his heart skip a beat, and dread began to crawl up his back. 

“Good evening, Officer Higashikata. Would you like to come in?” 

God, what was he getting himself into? 

“Yes, please.” Was that all he could say? Jesus Christ, Josuke– get it together. Your smile almost knocked him down, but you opened the door to let him in. Your house was quaint, full of little knick-knacks and blankets, along with the smell of burning candles. It felt like home to him. 

“I have some wine if you’d like a glass. It’s always good for loosening up after a long shift.” You looked over at him, picking up said bottle of red wine. Josuke couldn’t tell what brand it was– not that he cared, he wasn’t much of a wine guy– but just nodded. 

Your small giggle hit his ears, and he was starting to deeply regret coming. Why couldn’t he just say it? Why couldn’t he just drop to his knees and tell you his feelings? What was so different about this situation? 

A small wine glass was held out to him, and he gladly took it. Any alcohol at this point would do– anything to dull the feelings that would arise when you finally took him to bed. Josuke took a seat on your couch, pulling his hat off and setting it to the side. 

“Did you have a rough day at work?” You asked him, your voice laced with nothing but kindness. It made his legs shake and his stomach go up in knots. 

“No, nothing much ever happens in Morioh. The most I have to deal with is bratty kids.” 

Your laugh was so amazing. It always managed to lift his spirits, and make his heart pound in his chest. Josuke couldn’t help but stare at your amused face, but he tried to busy himself with the wine. 

“I mean, that’s good at least! I’m glad to know that Morioh is so safe.” Your eyes got a shade darker, a small glint shown in your pupils. “Especially with you around, officer.” 

Josuke couldn’t help the spikes of arousal that clawed through his guts. You were going to be the death of him– he was absolutely positive. Deciding that now would be a great time to finish his wine, he did so, trying his hardest not to look too rushed. 

You casually sipped on your own, but your eyes were sizing him up. Carefully dragging along his figure, stopping to stare at particular places that any normal person wouldn’t. It took everything in his power not to revert back to the 16-year-old boy who would get an erection at basically anything. 

“Hm, Josuke. I think we should take this party elsewhere.” 

Oh god. The way you said his first name was practically delicious. 

“I’d have to agree.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, you were tugging on his wrist to stand up. He did so, not without a bit of misfooting– and let you drag him in the direction of your bedroom. That’s when the thought hit him. 

We’re not going to fuck tonight.

Your bedroom door was open and you tugged him inside.

We’re going to make love.

Within seconds, Josuke had you pinned back up against the door. His hands were hot against your skin, holding onto your hips carefully. His mind was made up– he was going to show you his feelings. 

Your lips crashed together in a heated kiss. It was slow and full of passion, his hands trying their hardest to pull you as close as possible to him. Lips moving softly against the other’s, hands caressing and memorizing each other’s bodies. 

It was everything he’d ever wanted.

Everything he’d ever needed. 

His heart clenched in his chest when your tongue dragged across his bottom lip. God, was this heaven? Josuke truly thought it was. He accepted your advances and opened his mouth, kissing you with more fever. His hands were clutching at your dress, feeling the fabric and admiring the smooth silk. 

He’s never seen you in something like this, and he never wants to forget it. 

Josuke doesn’t know what happens next. It’s all a blur in his mind, distinctive arousal sparking every little movement. 

His back hits the bed and you’re in his lap, your lips still desperately attached to his. It was so hot, so unbelievably sexy– and he didn’t want it to end. You were feeling him up, soft fingers molding their way along his chest, poking at the buttons that kept his uniform intact. 

“Just– Just take it off.” Josuke’s voice was absolutely drenched in lust, and the way your eyes shined at his statement was no help. Your fingers moved swiftly– popping open the offending buttons and pulling it off his shoulders. Sweat was practically dripping from every pore of his body– and he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Not when you looked at him like that.

Your dress was gone. Holy shit, when did you take it off? Why didn’t he do it?

His hands moved to caress your body, running down your delicate curves, memorizing everything. He needed to– he didn’t want to forget it. Josuke gasped when your lips met his neck, squeezing harshly at your hips. “God, fuck–!” He choked out, your lips smoothing over the rough bite you’d delivered to his collarbone. 

“I need you, Officer Higashikata.” Those words were going to be the fucking death of him. Josuke’s head was spinning, clouded with lust and pure want. No, no– He needed this. 

“You have me, babe.” Is all he could muster, flipping your positions. He straddled your hips, grinding against your core gently. The moan you let escape was purely sinful– it made his arousal spike, and his heartbeat jump in his ears. 

Your legs locked around his waist like a vice, pulling him as close as possible. He let a smile cross his lips before leaning down and kissing along your chest. Smooth and passionate, leaving wet marks and small bruises. You looked so good covered in his love bites. 

Mewls and gasps filled his ears, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to take much more of this. He was beyond desperate– his fingers trailed down, sliding in between your folds, feeling the slick that gathered there. It was so hot, you had gotten this wet from him. Pride bloomed in his chest, and continued to rub slowly at your entrance. 

Legs were shaking around his waist, pleasured moans slipping from your lips. It was driving him absolutely mad. Josuke couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Are you ready for me?” His voice was rough, borderline needy. 

“God– Yes, Josuke!” 

His hands have never fumbled with his belt more in his life. Taking a deep breath, he finally managed to undo it, and pulled off his pants. They fell around his ankles with a dull thud, and your hands were on him instantly. 

Simple touches to his clothed cock, soft rubbing at the head. You knew exactly what he liked, and what drove him up the wall. It was so– addictive. Everything about you was addictive. So very intoxicating– he couldn’t get enough, even if he tried. 

A harsh tug of his boxers pulled him out of his thoughts, and he was met with your lips kissing the tip of his cock. He almost came right then and there. Josuke gasped and threw his head back, his hands going down to lace through your hair. 

Your mouth was fantastic, warm and inviting– but it wasn’t what he wanted. No, he wanted to be inside you. He needed to be inside you. So that’s what he said. 

“God, baby, please– I need to be inside you right now.” He felt you shiver at his words, rolling down your spine. You had to be absolutely soaked. 

“Take me, then.” 

That’s all he needed. Josuke had you against the bed, your arms tight around his neck. He was peppering sweet kisses to your skin, his hands going to hold your hips steady. He lined himself up without a second thought, and pressed in. 

God, you were so tight. 

It felt unimaginably good, like every other time before. The slick sounds, the warmth of your surrounding his cock and his mind was so much. It made his heart clench, and his eyes lidded. Your gasps filled his ears, your hips desperately trying to get him to move, thrust– anything.

But no. He was dead set on truly loving you. 

His hips moved slowly, grinding gently against you with each thrust. His kisses continued to be placed, on your cheeks, neck, lips– anywhere he could reach. You were truly a gift, and he wasn’t sure what he’d do without you. 

Although even with his determination, you were still too much for him. His thrusts gained traction, and the harsh sounds of your bed frame hitting the wall clouded his mind. You felt amazing, and it was something he dare never forget. 

Your moans picked up pitch, crying out with every particular movement. Just like how you knew his weak spots, so did he. It wasn’t long before your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure, your mouth barely able to stay shut. Josuke loved this– loved looking at your pleasure-stricken face, flushed pink and wanting.

All because of him. 

That thought made his heart jump in his throat. And his hips smack against yours with more force. 

He couldn’t keep this secret anymore. Not with how good you looked underneath him– how your eyes shined with every sweet praise, your lips coated in his spit– he needed to tell you. 

Now.

The pleasure was too much– you were so tight and warm, your hips recoiling against his in the most perfect of ways. Josuke was panting hard, leaving desperate bruises along your sides, gripping at anything and everything. 

It was too hot. 

It was too good. 

It was absolutely perfect.

“Oh fuck– Babe, please–” His hips became erratic, and your noises became choked and silent. You were so close, he knew you were. His fingers came down, rubbing lovingly along your clit to bring your orgasm closer. 

He was going to cum. 

“Babe! I love you– Fuck, I love you so much!” 

Your eyes were wide– brimmed with tears of pleasure. You all but screamed, your head thrown back against the pillows as your undoing washed over you. It shook him to his core, how you tightened around him. Josuke came with a final thrust, spilling everything he had inside you. 

Sweat dripped from his temples, and he stared at your complexion. Josuke couldn’t believe he just said that. Why did he say that? It was over. He just knew it. The pit in his stomach grew, and a sense of guilt and sadness rained through his body.

He fucked up. 

“Officer Higashikata.” He looked down at you again, and your eyes sparkled. Your mouth was curled into a pleasant smile, and your hands came up to cup his cheeks. 

“Don’t look so sad. It doesn’t suit you.” Your lips pressed against his in the sweetest way possible. It was like tasting his favorite candy for the first time in ages. 

“I love you too, dummy.”

[captcas]

exile

exile by capthamm

it took you five whole minutes to pack us up and leave me with it, holdin' all this love out here in the hall...  i can see you staring honey, like he's just your understudy

part four of capthamm’s captain swan’s folklore read on ao3 / read the ao3 series 

Killian ignores the look of pity etched across Robin’s face as he pours another shot. Robin’s stern looks are just another reminder that his life has turned into a literal three ring circus.

Alright, not a literal one but his point remains. He just wishes he was playing the part of ring leader and not the sad clown.

Killian’s train of thought is derailed at the sound of her voice. He can’t tell what she’s saying, and against his better judgement he glances towards where she sits. As she places her hand on his shoulder, Killian swears the same spot on his own burns white hot. It’s then that he slams the shot, the rum no longer burning as it coats his throat, as he catches Robin shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.

Pathetic.

As Killian gets up to leave, Neal shoots him a grateful look while she’s distracted by something on her phone. He grimaces in response and attempts to tune out Neal’s carefully rehearsed line as he pushes on the door of the old pub.

“Neal, I can't dance,” she protests. “Nonsense, there's only one rule, pick a partner—“

The door slams but Killian’s mind is apt to finish the sentence on it’s own— he is the one who came up with it after all.

Disgruntled, he shoves his hands in his pockets and begins the cold walk home, leaving his car to be retrieved in the morning once his libations wear thin— assuming he lets them. His mind can't help but wonder what other tips Neal used on his date with Emma tonight. He had advised his old friend not to use them all in one evening, but chances are Neal will be knocking on his door in the morning wondering what the next steps are and how Killian would go about taking them.

How in the hell did he end up here?

Two months ago, it would’ve been Killian in that booth, Emma’s hand lightly touching his bicep as conversation flows easily between them. As quickly as it began, their entire thing came to a screeching halt. Before he could fathom what happened, Neal was at the docks begging Killian to help now that Emma finally asked him out.

He’d never suffocated before but he’s positive it’d feel startlingly similar to the pain he felt as he processed what Neal had said.

Fourteen days. Five kisses. Two secret dates. That was all he got with Emma Swan before she decided (much like many other women in his life) that he was better left a friend than loved as more. If they’re even friends anymore. He can’t say he blames her, he just wishes he knew why. Their friendship had always developed with ease, many of their mutual acquaintances supposedly taking bets for how long it’d be until it formed into something more. No one won, because no one even knew it happened. Not to mention Emma and Killian moved at their own pace and waited 16 years after meeting to give it a go.

Her pinky wraps with his, “Promise me we are friends first and that I have a clean out if you are an awful kisser.” “I promise, Swan, that we are friends first, and also that I am most certainly not an awful kisser.”

She slaps his arm with her other hand as she squeezes her pinky tighter. They may be approaching thirty years of age, but pinky promises hold the same weight as they did at twelve. She rolls her eyes, “Uh huh, sure. We’ll see about that, KJ.”

It’s practically unfathomable to him that their promise was less than three months ago and yet everything has changed. He always thought he knew Emma better than he knew himself, but her dismissal of him proved to be a massive blindside, no warning in sight.

Worse was the lack of return to their normal friendship and the subsequent breaking of their initial promise, but he probably should’ve expected something like this. Emma is an enigma. Beautiful, and funny, and driven and strong, but also a bloody mystery.

For fourteen perfect days he thought they may finally get their shot at what he'd hoped would be something brilliant. But brilliant was not in the cards for Killian— it hadn’t been most of his life and it seems, when it came to his feelings for Emma, it would be no different.

Now it’s her and Neal and it has been for the better part of a month and a half. The kicker is, it’s all thanks to Killian. Neal couldn’t charm a girl to save his life and wasted no time in resorting to asking Killian for guidance. Little does he know, Killian’s head over heels for the woman he’s trying to swoon.

Details.

He helps craft text messages and gifts as well as aids in the planning for their numerous dates. Killian pulls from the depths of his love for Emma, because all he really wants is for her to be happy. He’d hoped that he’d play a part in that equation one way or another, and while he supposes he does have a role, he never would’ve guessed it would be in this way.

While he remains lost in thought, he somehow finds himself back at his flat. As he ascends the old staircase, he has to catch himself from tripping up the top step. He can’t help but be distracted by the woman sitting against his apartment door.

“Took you long enough, KJ.” She smiles at him and it sparks emotion in him he didn’t realize he was harboring. It seems over a month of watching her fall for his carefully coached understudy has finally gotten under his skin. How can she smile at him as though nothing has changed?

Tempering his anger, he answers her a shrug. She seems to get the message and moves out from in front of his door as he looks down to search for his key.

Bloody hell.

Robin insisted he leave his car keys– with no argument from Killian– but he had forgotten to remove the flat key from his ring. Defeated, Killian leans his head forward until it connects with the cool wood of his front door. For a moment he forgets he’s not alone, the small buzz of alcohol messing with his usual tack sharp retention, but soon Emma is digging in her purse and pulls out the spare key he gave her long before.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Killian.”

“Calm down, Swan, I’m not proposing you move in. I just want you to have it in case of emergencies.”

She shrugs and he’ll be damned if there wasn’t a slight hint of disappointment in her eyes. “Fair enough. Call me next time you’re too drunk to remember to take your key ring.”

He shakes the memory from his head as Emma unlocks the door. Killian continues inside and she waits, hesitating in the frame of the door. “When did we get like this, Swan?” He winces as the words leave his mouth, but the damage is done. Apparently rum effects more than his short term memory, leaving his carefully placed filter seemingly full of gaping holes.

At first she looks taken aback, but she must reason that she deserves this on some level because she sighs deeply and answers his pointed question, “I broke the pinky promise.”

That was not what Killian was expecting, but he answers all the same, “Aye, I s’pose we both did.”

Emma shakes her head. “KJ– Killian… you and I both know that’s not true.” Killian starts to interject but she continues before he gets the chance, “You’ve put me first since the moment we met, and even more so over the past month. Even after I just… I just feel so stupid to not have seen it before now…”

Emma trails off and Killian wraps his mind around what she’s saying– it doesn’t take long for him to realize that she knows. “How?” He meant for something more profound or curious, but the words escaped him– anything polysyllabic seeming near impossible to comprehend.

Emma rolls her eyes, but he can tell the annoyance is not directed at him. He can always tell when it comes to Emma– that’s why he was so certain they were made for one another. “Neal asked to pinky swear that I’d go on a date with him next week and apparently you didn’t know I reserved those just for you. Not to mention the glare you gave him back at Sherwood’s probably could’ve killed someone. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together...”

Killian didn’t know pinky swears were reserved for him, but to be honest, he didn’t know anything Emma did was reserved for anyone. Emma Swan is a firecracker set off in the middle of January. She lights her own path and kicks down her own doors. Fierce independence is the first trait that always comes to Killian’s mind, most likely a product of the absolute shit life she led growing up. She never let it phase her. The admiration he holds for this woman is leaps and bounds beyond what he thought capable for any one man, yet she stands here today starting an awkward conversation and standing her ground and he couldn’t be more entranced.

He loves her.

“You broke your promise.” That’s certainly not what he wanted to say, but he supposes just because he’d walk through fire for her, doesn’t mean the pain won’t linger.

“I was scared, KJ.” He scoffs, he doesn’t mean to, not really, but he knows Emma doesn’t get scared. She’s as fearless as they come.

“You don’t get scared, Emma.” She flinches at his use of her real name but recovers quickly.

“Hah,” Emma laughs sarcastically. She seems to think he’s kidding but he can tell the moment she recognizes the sincerity of this moment. She whispers, “You terrify me, Killian.”

His heart breaks a little and with its crack, the flood gates open; the anger that washes away bringing to light all that he’s been denying for the better part of 16 years. He’s scared of her, too. Scared she could do real damage, scared she could break him to the point of no return, but Killian is a risk taker. He always has been, especially if that risk involves Emma Swan. He thought she was a risk taker too, but she chose to play it safe.

Because she feels the exact same way.

It hits him like a tidal wave, and he says the first thing he can think of, “I could never hurt you, Swan.” He hopes she can hear the conviction in his voice, his words ringing truer than any he’s spoken before.

“Most people who fall in love don’t intend to hurt one another, Killian.” He realizes what she’s saying but he can’t help but get hung up on one word:

Love.

She loves him. She may not know it yet, but she does. That’s enough for him to try.

He steps forward, every inch with less hesitation until they’re standing toe to toe. He can smell remnants of the bar on her, but it’s mixed with her comforting scent of cinnamon and vanilla that he’s come to recognize as his favorite. He’s positive he still smells like a barrel of Captain Morgan, but the buzz he feels is no longer from the rum. (Apparently emotional revelations are a quite sobering.)

“I’m all in, Swan.” He pauses. “Please don’t push me away.”

She doesn’t look at him, but he feels her fingers brush the hem of his vest and he can’t stop the shiver that rushes up his spine. It only intensifies when she speaks, “I can’t promise I won’t run again.”

“Aye,” he gently grabs her chin, urging her to look him in the eye, “but I promise, so long as you want me, I’ll be there to chase you and bring you home.”

She smiles brightly and starts to lean in for a kiss before stopping abruptly and raising her pinky to eye level, “Pinky swear?”

Killian can’t help but laugh as he once again connects his pinky to hers, “Pinky swear, Swan.”

[writingsfromhome]

Hot Waters (2)

Part 1

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

I clock in as the lunch rush dwindles, checking in on guests to make sure they were doing alright and on staff if there was anything I needed to address.

My eyes burn, I could still sleep another five hours—after coming home last night I kept getting distracted by what happened last night. I almost kissed a customer! And someone famous at that. We pride ourselves on discretion and minding our own business when it came to our famous guests. Yesterday’s slip up was serious, and the further I got from that cursed room, the more clarity I got.

“Y/N,” the morning manager grips my hand as she drags me into our office. “You were here when they signed in...’James Smith’?”

“Yes?” My heart races, did she know? How did she know? This was it-

“Oh my god! Everyone talks about what a sweetheart he is. He. Is. The devil!”

“What are you talking about?” I sit her down and she just swears.

“Staff gets a call this morning, he woke up with a bad hangover wanted to know if we can send up aspirin. They go up, he says he thought the manager was going to bring it up. So they come down to me and I have to fucking go up there while I’m dealing with this other shitty guest wanting me to change their room-remind me to tell you about that later. Basically I go up to this asshole’s room and he just stares at me. I’m like I’m the bloody manager-“

“I think he thought I would be there since I helped him...I helped him out-“

“Yeah so I’m like we have two managers. Is there a reason you asked me to come all the way up here to hand you aspirin? He says he forgot! Thought the manager should bring it. How do you-ugh! And then he starts asking me about us, what our names were and how long we’ve worked here—when our shifts ended! Meanwhile a whole line was forming downstairs and by the time I come down they’ve chewed out the new girl and-“

I let her trail on, where I kept a cool head about most things, my co-manager was very scatterbrained. I guess thirty years working with our clientelle could do that to you. I calm her down and tell her I’d deal with “Mr. Smith”. Maybe I had to give him a piece of my mind, just because he could get what he wanted didn’t mean he had to!

I’m pumped with a whole speech prepared for him but when I get to his room someone else answers. I see him in the back on a call, I make an excuse about an earlier request and receive a dirty look. I go back down the complete opposite of pumped. What was I thinking, Harry was busy. He had a life of his own. He probably only wanted to see me this morning to clear up last night. Good thing I wasn't here, I really wanted to clear up one thing. Yesterday's almost slip-up was a complete mistake. I wasn't that kind of person.

I get into the swing of things, the rest of the day goes by without too much drama. At around 7pm, I’m sorting through some paperwork at the front desk, when I spot Harry leaving the hotel. He’s flanked by the person who checked him in, talking to him and Harry laughs. I watch them leave, maybe I could avoid him today after all.

But at 9:05pm one of my staff finds me to say the person staying in 1203 had a noise complaint and wanted to speak to the manager. I roll my eyes but there’s nothing I could do but go. I had a feeling not going would just make things worse.

I ride up, the elevator mirrors showing a tired and overworked woman with a small tomato soup stain near her third button. I try to button the blazer to cover it but it's no use. I take my hair out of it’s bun, it was barely in one at this point. Then I put it back in one—why was I trying to look good. But my hair is too slicked back and I take it out again to do a messy bun. And just as I twist the elastic a third time it snaps and the doors open. Great. Hair down it would be.

I knock and Harry shouts it’s open again. I use my key to get in because of course it’s not.

“You know your door isn’t actually open ever?” I say as I walk in. The room is dark except for the bedside lamp. I turn on the light so I can see.

“So how do you get in?” Harry’s voice comes from the bathroom.

“My own key?” I say, leaning against the door. Maybe if I stay here and don’t go all the way in I can make this quick.

Harry walks out of the bathroom, he looks like he’d showered and shaved and tidied up. He was more handsome than before, if that was posssible. Aaand that was not what I should be thinking about!

“I ended up getting drunk by myself last night,” Harry says as if it were my fault.

"I told you not to drink whatever you made," I say.

"I was lonely."

“I heard you were a nightmare this morning.”

“I thought you would be in! I was only going to be a nightmare to you. I sort of feel bad for yanking the other manager around.”

“I’m flattered,” I roll my eyes. “And you should be. You nearly gave her a panic attack.”

“Really?” Harry moves away from his dresser and closer to me. I press further into the door as if I could slip through the wood.

“I think she thinks you’re an A-list celeb, the A stands for asshole in the biz.”

"The biz?" Harry's mouth lifts in a smile. As he advances, I start to forget my promise to myself from earlier.

"Sooo you had a noise complaint?" I don't even sound like I care to my own ears. I just sound panicked. I couldn't let anything happen. But Harry is now a foot from me and I forget why I would ever say no.

"Yes," Harry pushes the strands of my hair behind my ear. "Your hair looks nice down."

"Harry," I warn. "If you don't need anything I should go. I really shouldn't be here."

"That's what you keep saying," his eyes undress me. Oh god, now they were looking right at me.

"It's true-" I realise then how stupid it was to trap myself against the door. There was no escaping here and he was too close to be able to open the door. And now he rests his hand above my head. There was no way this door was going to open. "This is the worst thing I could do..."

Harry brushes his thumb over my lips and I immediately stop talking. “Are you going to ever stop talking?”

My breath comes out heavy but I try, “Harry I really shouldn’t-"

“You’re not on the clock are you?”

I look into his eyes, damnit. I wasn’t, and All I can do is nod. I was a fool to think I could come up here and resist him.

“Good.”

As soon as his lips are on mine I’ve thrown away any ounce of sensibility. I yank my arms out from behind me and pull him closer; I don’t think I can pull him close enough.

His hand trails down my body, lifting my thigh to wrap around him, pushing deeper into me.

“Bed,” I manage to gasp. He turns and walks me backwards to the bed, never taking his mouth off of me. He's intense but careful, making sure I'm comfortable. I finally get to see all his tattoos, and his hand (amongst other things) finally touches my own.

Part of me is in shock, how was this happening? Why did Harry even want me?

But the other part, doesn't care. We were attracted to each other and this is what happened. What I wanted right now.

"Y/N," he sighs into my neck and hearing my name on his lips sends me over the edge. We're an island together on the bed and I find shelter between his arms. Damn the consequences.

***

"Hey," a gentle whisper wakes me from my sleep. I keep my eyes closed, I was so tired and this was the deepest I've slept in months. But the voice comes again, "Y/N hey."

My name makes me open my eyes, the sun has somehow come up and I'm laying mostly naked in Harry's bed while he hovers above me, shirtless and with a bed head. There's a pit in my stomach, realising the sun did rise again and today I would have to face the reality that I slept with a...customer.

I feel a kiss on my forehead, it snaps me back to him. The bed, his arms, he wasn't just a customer. This was wrong but also just right.

"Time?" I ask.

"7, I had to wake you. I have a meeting in an hour or so, there’ll be people in my room and I don't want you to get in trouble."

I sit up and pull the covers around me, spotting my shirt on the floor. The tomato stain is irrelevant with the million wrinkles from being thrown on the floor. Last night was amazing.

"I'll freshen up," I mumble. I feel him move closer to me, kiss my shoulder. I close my eyes, why couldn't I stay in this moment forever? Freeze the clock at 7am.

I look as happy as I feel in the mirror, except for the anxiety brewing under the surface of being found out, I'm happy. This was what I needed.

When I get back, Harry still loafs in bed on his phone. But when he sees me, he pulls me onto him and cuddles me against him.

"So are you free tonight?" He asks. I turn to look him in the face, I thought last night was a one-time thing. Guys like Harry didn't want girls like me more than once. "What?" He asks when I just stare at him.

"You want to see me again?" I ask.

"Yeah?" He still looks confused. "I was thinking I can sneak out to your place, bring you dinner."

"Why?" The question is out of my mouth before I could think. "Sorry-I just meant...I thought it was a one night thing."

"Oh," he moves back, "I didn't know you didn't want-"

"No no," I move back closer to him. I missed his warmth. "I thought you wouldn't want to...do anything more with me. This was a one-off.”

"Y/N," he says so gently. He kisses me, "I don't usually convince random women to sleep with me after their shift is over. Never actually. You're....I like you."

"You barely know me," I whisper. This was Harry Styles saying this to me.

"I know. But isn’t it always like that at the beginning? You do know I could've figured out the hot water by myself yesterday but I wanted you to come up, to see you and talk to-"

I flick his ear, "I knew it! I knew you couldn't be that much of an idiot."

He laughs, "I felt something with us, I want to see if it leads to anything."

"You'll be leaving soon," I remind him. "You're staying at a hotel-“

"While my manager looks for a rental. Our original one fell through at the last minute. I'm in the city for a few months, working on my album. Let's just have fun, see where this goes. You're funny and beautiful and patient and-I like you Y/N."

I stare at his lips, forming the words. He meant it. Maybe I wasn’t goin to be so single anymore. He was here for months, and once he's checked out technically he's no longer a customer...

"One condition," I say. I didn't want to put my job at risk again. "We can't do this here. Again. We wait for you to leave or-"

"Deal," Harry kisses me to seal it. His phone vibrating scares us apart. He picks up, "Hi...yeah I'm up...okay bye."

"They're on their way! Around the corner, You have to go!" Harry jumps up and starts picking up the mess of last night. I only had my uniform that was very wrinkled. I panic.

I manage to get on my uniform, close my blazer over the shirt and cover it with a tray leftover in Harry's room. I get my hair in a bun with one of Harry's elastics and pray my puffy face isn't a dead giveaway just as there's a knock at the door. I move towards it and open it, making sure Harry was seated in his chair first.

"Sorry again about the noise complaint, we'll make sure that doesn't happen again sir," I smile at the incoming guests, and sneak a look at Harry who's biting back a laugh. My heart is pounding too loud to laugh.

"I hope not," Harry finishes before he gets up to greet his guests. His manager looks suspicious but I slip out and choose the stairwell down a few floors before getting onto the elevator. Luckily, I don't run into anybody and take the kitchen doors out. It was a close call, but breaking the rules was kind of exhilerating and totally worth it. Harry was into me, we had another date tonight. And he was coming to my place...shit. He was coming to my place.

I find my car and head home to clean for tonight--both myself and my house. I can't wipe the smile off my face the whole ride home though. This was really happening.

[kpopcotton]

The Lonely Count ~ Huang Renjun

a/n ~ Happy Halloween! I’m so happy to finally get this out since I’ve been working on it all month!

• Genre: supernatural, high school au, strangers to friends, slight romance, fluff, angst if you squint

• Warning(s): very brief mentions of (fake) blood, it’s overall very toned down

• Reader Gender: gender-neutral

• Word Count: 6.2k

==≎==

   “No.”

   “Are you serious?!” Haechan cries out, his hands reaching across the table to give you a good shake as he speaks. “Come on! It’ll be so much fun! Besides, everyone else wants to and I already told them you were coming so, by law, that means you have to. Plus! Jaemin said he was excited to see you since you haven’t been hanging out with us recently.”

   The mere mention of his friends makes you want to crawl into a hole to hide. You blankly stare at Haechan’s overdramatic pout as he tries to guilt-trip you, his simple act makes you want to go even less. There was no way you were going to spend Halloween night with a bunch of severely good-looking people. Good-looking people meant attention, and attention meant you would be the designated person that people would come to ask for the boys’ numbers. 

   You could imagine it now, the random, crowded Halloween party they were probably planning on attending, and them leaving you alone to find a wall to sit against while they went out and mingled. You already felt like a clown just thinking about it. Maybe I should dress up as one, show my true colors. You remember Haechan’s friends mentioning being introverts that one time you had to take a personality quiz in Health class freshman year, but you find that hard to believe.

   Sometimes, it still amazes you how you’ve stayed friends with Haechan, in all his bubbly, social, annoying glory. “Tell them my mom grounded me,” you mumble, trying to show just how uninterested you are.

   “But that’s a lie! Your mom-”

   “Exactly.” You snap with your gaze fierce. Haechan’s previously open mouth clamps shut, fixing an awkward silence between you two in the booth of the diner.

   You angrily opt for stuffing your face with the fries from your basket instead of talking to him. Your eyes drift to the window as you chew them. Haechan watches you, his foot slowly sliding across the floor to poke at your ankle, his way of getting you to calm down and forgive him for prodding. It has the opposite effect, however, your foot shooting out to give his shin a good kick as you glare at him again. He yelps quite loudly and the waitress who was on her way to ask you if you wanted refills, flinches, turning around to pretend to help a coworker behind the counter.

   Haechan’s face flushes a pale red as he brings his leg up to rub at his shin. “That hurt, you know,” he whines, his bottom lip trembling pitifully.

   “Good.”

   His sad expression disappears in an instant, his face now pressed into clear frustration as he drops his leg back down. “Okay, seriously, what is up with you? If it were any other time, you’d be all over hanging out.”

   “Exactly. I would say yes to hanging out if it was with literally anyone else.” You stressed, sipping your drink. Haechan looks to be at his wit’s end with you.

   “What do you even mean?”

   “What I mean is, I don’t like your friends, Donghyuck. I mean, yes, they may be nice to me, and yes, it is cool that they want to include me in plans, but do you ever stop to think that I don’t enjoy hanging out with them? Or that I’m not a fan of the things you guys like to do? Or that maybe, when I’m with them, it’s like I’m not even there at all?” For once in his life, Haechan is speechless, staring at you with wide eyes as if all of this was surprising to him. And, maybe it was.

   “Y/N, I-”

   “I’m not finished.” You hold up a finger to his lips. “Listen, I get that you don’t want to leave me out of the loop or whatever, but parties and hanging out in bigger groups is not my thing. I’d rather it just be us, like when we were kids, where we ran around town past curfew on Halloween stealing candy bowls so we could get fat for winter. Hell, I’d even be down to explore those “haunted woods” we were always scared of because of that story Johnny told us when we were in first grade.”

   “Did I hear that right? Exploring the haunted woods? I knew you’d come up with an amazing idea for our get together, Y/N!” Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The Na Jaemin graciously plops himself down next to you in the booth with a basket of chicken tenders and fries. Haechan’s other friends, Mark and Jeno, squish Haechan into the wall on the other side of the booth. Jaemin’s smile was almost too bright, his eyes full of childish wonder as he glanced between you and your best friend. “That’s what this is right? A planning sesh? I love those, you know!”

   You ignore Jaemin, your eyes currently stabbing holes into Haechan, but the little coward is too embarrassed to even look at you. He doesn’t remain silent, however, choosing to be civil and answer Jaemin’s question. “Y-Yeah, we were planning what we wanted to do with you guys Halloween night.”

   “Oh goodie,” Jaemin claps excitedly, “Count me in then, guys!”

==≎==

   You were dreading Halloween by the time it came around. You had planned on avoiding them, maybe sneaking out to hang out with the dynamic duo, Jisung and Chenle, from your first-hour Psychology class. But, all hopes were dashed when your mom happily invited all four boys into the house when Haechan knocked. They were already dressed for the occasion; Haechan as an angel, Jeno and Jaemin cosplaying the spies from Spy vs. Spy, and Mark as… himself?

   He must have noticed your questioning glance because he was quick to explain, “I’m dressed as Peter Parker.” He pulls his backpack around to show you the mask conveniently hanging out.

   “He was too embarrassed to wear the suit,” Haechan announces, making you involuntarily let out a chuckle. Your mom coos while patting the latter’s shoulder and Mark’s ears burn bright red.

   “It’s skin-tight dude!”

   “And?”

   Before you could say anything in response, Jaemin was dragging you up the stairs to the bathroom, his arm full of costume things. He was talking a mile a minute about how he found the perfect costume for you and how he was so excited to help you get ready. He sat you on the toilet and quickly drew out the costume bag. 

   “Ta-dah!” His smile is, once again, blinding. You scan the packaging.

   “S-Sexy vampire?” You splutter, almost choking on your spit.

   “Yes! And, I can’t wait to see you in it!” He shoves the bag into your hands before turning around and covering his eyes. “Hurry up! Get changed! We don’t have all night!”

   You slowly get changed into the costume; which is a pair of black slacks, a classic frilly white top with bloodstains that has a very lowcut neckline and a deep v-cut through the back, and a black cheap cape. You stand awkwardly in your costume, it fits a bit tight, as you look at your bright pink face in the mirror. Jaemin spins around excitedly to face you when he hears you stop moving, letting out a sharp gasp.

   “Oh. My. Gosh! You look amazing!” He squeals, clapping with all his might. “Now let’s get you some makeup!”

   You’ve been pushed back onto the toilet in the blink of an eye, Jaemin settling himself between your legs. He can’t stop mumbling about how cute you are and how perfect the costume is. You notice movement in the corner of your eye and see Haechan trying to sneak into the bathroom. You glare at him and Jaemin turns away from dabbing fake blood onto your lip to see.

   “Haechan, look! Aren’t they so hot?”

   Haechan suddenly flushes, pausing halfway through the door to scan your costume. You notice his eyes linger on your exposed collarbones and you tug the thin cape to hide them. “Yeah,” He nods after his once over, reaching up to flick at the plastic golden halo on his head. “I mean, they don’t look half as good as me, but I’ll-” He cuts himself off with a scream when you stand up to go after him.

   Jaemin laughs, his hands quickly grasping your hips to keep you in front of him. “Woah, tiger. Calm down, you can beat him up when I’m done!”

==≎==

   You knew you were radiating the most awkward energy as you came down the stairs in your getup. Your tongue is mindlessly playing with the fake fangs Jaemin had stuck to your canines with tacky-putty, they feel foreign whenever you close your mouth. Your mom, upon seeing your costume, rushes up to gush about it, her fingers pinching your pale dusted face before she begs you all to pose for pictures. Your face feels hot under your makeup and you wonder if it showed through the stuff Jaemin caked onto it. She quickly runs to get her phone, giving Jeno and Mark a chance to compliment your look. You thank them almost silently.

   She won’t stop talking when she comes back, reminiscing about the days when you were all young, fragile, and small. She doesn’t miss the chance to poke at you for being a particularly weak kid, to which you fume over. Haechan tries to add onto it but you stomp your boot on his foot, shutting him up instantly.

   As she takes a few photos, the boys having fun with their poses while you try to join, she then starts to mention that this will be the last time you all go trick or treating before college. A pebble of guilt forms in your stomach when she says this, you weren’t expecting the boys to lie to her about what you were going to do tonight. You start to drift into thought when Mark, who’s standing next to you, loudly stumbles to mention he’s already in college, and that he’s taking engineering classes at the tech college in the next town over. Your mom seems embarrassed to have assumed he was younger, but she brushes it off by saying he should take care of everyone tonight as he is an adult. Haechan pouts at your mom when she says this, saying that the rest of you are technically adults since you’re all 18, and she laughs and pats his cheek which turns red at the contact.

   “Alright, kids, have fun! Stay safe! And don’t be out too late, I don’t want Y/N to wake me up in the middle of the night getting home.” The boys all reply with some version of, “yes ma’am” and start down the sidewalk toward the edge of town where the haunted woods start. 

   Mark and Haechan lead the pack, walking side by side and cracking jokes to the duo behind them. You, on the other hand, silently take up the rear alone. You already feel out of place. It doesn’t help when a group of pretty girls call out to Jeno and you have to follow as they all take a detour to talk to them. Haechan is quick to brag about your plans to explore the haunted woods, one of the girls gasping and indulging him. She’s dressed in a bright red jumpsuit, a headband with matching demon horns protruding from her hair. How ironic. 

   As usual, the girls are all over the four boys, none of them even sparing a glance at you. Typical. Sometimes you wish you had the confidence Haechan possessed to strike up a conversation with them, maybe then they would notice you. It sucked, but you knew it would happen, even when Jaemin said no one would dare ignore a “sexy vampire such as yourself”.

   Soon enough, Mark decides that it’s time to go and they have to pull Haechan away from the demon girl he was flirting with. Again, you all fall into the formation at the start of your journey. Your mood is completely sour, and you contemplate sneaking off. You knew Jisung and Chenle were probably out and about trick or treating, and they had invited you when you said you were forced into plans you didn’t want to partake in. You had told them it was up in the air, and that you might ditch. Jisung said he would save some candy for you and Chenle said he’d buy you a candied apple. You suddenly have a craving for a candied apple. You bet yourself ten dollars that you would have a better time with the two younger boys than with Haechan and his buddies.

   As soon as you turn to make a run for it, Jaemin shouts out, startling you. “We’ve made it! Guys, guys, are you ready for this? The scare of our lives awaits us!” He enthusiastically claps. “Y/N? Y/N! Come take a picture of me in front of the trees!”

   Seriously? “Coming,” You grumble, walking past everyone to wear Jaemin stands, making sure to check your shoulder into Haechan’s.

   You awkwardly take Jaemin’s phone from him after he opens the camera app. His smile is so strikingly perfect, you have a hard time focusing. He skips over to just in front of the tree-line and poses. You follow and take a couple of pictures before holding out his phone to him. “No, no wait. Take a couple more over here. Please, please, please!” You hesitate, trying and failing to hide your disgust when he gets down on his knees to beg. The boys behind you laugh at the scene, mumbling some things back and forth before laughing harder. An odd feeling clenches your heart when you wonder if Haechan was laughing at you, or making fun of you. “I’ll love you forever! Y/N, please, it’s for my Instagram!”

   At that, you shove the phone into his face, causing him to let out a squeak. “Have your boyfriends do it or something,” You then push past the kneeling boy and make your way into the woods. You just want to get this over with.

   The boys grow silent, looking at each other in confusion as you disappear into the thick underbrush. Haechan panics when he realizes just how thick it is, he can’t see you at all through the trees. He quickly apologizes to Jaemin before running after you. Mark and Jeno help Jaemin off the ground before following as well. 

   Once they step through the spot you had, awe overtakes them. The area, despite having a mass of vines and bushes surrounding it, is fairly open and you can see ahead for what looks like miles. It was dark, a lot darker than it was on the sidewalk with the full moon. The trees were all thin, devoid of branches until their very top where their canopies spread and weave together to block out the sky. It was eerily silent and it seems the sounds of life couldn’t penetrate the veil that bordered the entire wood. 

   Haechan could see you already a little ways ahead, looking around with an expression he would have thought cute if it weren’t for the way you had been acting all night.  He stumbles on his way up to you, reaching you much slower than he expected being as you didn’t seem that far in the first place. The three boys behind him let him go, opting to explore the wood together and away from the conflict they knew was about to happen.

   “Y/N, what was that?” Haechan questions you once he’s close enough, his voice low and demanding like you had done something wrong. He tugs on your cape and it irks you.

   “What was what, Donghyuck?” You growl, stepping up so you’re chest to chest with him, a challenge. “You better lay off, alright. I’m not doing this with you. And, in the haunted woods of all places.”

   His angered expression fades instantly as he gawks at you. He isn’t stupid, he understands something has made you upset with him if your use of his real name again was anything to go by, but he isn’t smart enough to figure out why. Before he could ask what pissed you off, Jeno’s voice slices through the silence from up ahead. You both turn to see him pointing to an old, victorian style house in the distance with a smirk. A small feeling of dread pricks at your lungs, deflating them and making you suck in a shaky breath. You forget the argument with Haechan in favor of observing the house.

   The house is large and looks very expensive, most definitely a grand mansion in its prime. The tallest tower’s roofing extends through the canopy and lets in a minuscule amount of moonlight which shines upon the face of the house, glinting off of the second-floor windows. The exterior could use some work, it looks like it hasn’t been properly maintained in years. The roof is missing some shingles, the wooden siding was splintered, and there were cobwebs on the front porch and in the eves of the roof. Surprisingly, even with the signs of age, everything was intact, like it was preserved by the woods itself. How you didn’t notice it before was unnerving to you.

   The five of you gather around the front steps. Upon closer look, it seems like some has been maintaining the house. There’s a potted plant next to the door that looks freshly trimmed and watered, and the garden surrounding the porch is beautifully filled with thriving flowers you were sure weren’t native. You wondered how they bloomed with such minimal light. As the boys discuss a plan of action, you almost curse when you see a faint light floating around inside the house. You pretend you never saw anything, taking it as your imagination playing tricks on you, in hopes to slow your suddenly racing heartbeat.

   “So, we explore it?” Haechan asks, however, it doesn’t seem like it was meant as a question as he’s already on his way to walk up the stairs before Mark’s hand shoots out and yanks him back by the collar.

   “I don’t think so, dude,” Mark quickly responds, his head shaking so fast you worry he’ll give himself whiplash. “Do you want to be killed or something?”

   “Yeah, it doesn’t seem like a good idea,” Jaemin pouts, his voice whiny. “We might get arrested for trespassing or something.”

   Jeno laughs, “Come on, are you guys scar-”

   “Let’s do it.” You suddenly speak up, your voice surprising yourself. You had no clue what compelled you to say that, but it seemed like something inside of the house was telling you to come in.

   “What?” All four boys seem dumbfounded. You don’t get why they’re so startled of you agreeing when they were the ones who suggested it in the first place.

   “Okay, Y/N, you are officially insane!” Jaemin shrieks, his thoughts seem to be racing before he gasps. “Are you possessed? Is that why you’ve been acting so weird tonight?”

   “I haven’t been acting weird,” You defend, already halfway up the stairs before you turn back to speak again. “You four just don’t know me. Now, we came here to get scared, didn’t we? So are you guys coming or not?”

   Jeno nods almost instantly, his expression stoic but you could see faint sympathy in his eyes as he joins you in climbing the old stairs. They didn’t creak under your combined weight, despite looking like they’d cave in if one too many people were on them at once, which surprised you. Haechan was next to follow, whining about the not so subtle dig you had directed at him. Jaemin hesitated before scurrying up the steps to cling to Jeno’s arm, muttering something about Jeno being the one to protect the group if something were to attack you. Mark was last, begrudgingly trudging up the steps with heavy feet, claiming that if things went south, he would leave everyone in a heartbeat.

   You rolled your eyes before turning to the grand main entry. It was a black wooden door, beautiful down to the very last detail, with a shining metal knocker in the shape of a boar with a nose ring. You gently run your fingers over the boar’s head before wrapping them around the nose ring to knock, the metal biting your hand with numbness.

   “Oh, please don’t Y/N, we-”

   Knock, knock, knock.

   “Ah, seriously, you’re going to get us murdered!”

   “Relaxed, Nana, it’s just an abandoned house. We’ll be okay.” Jeno laughed, watching the latter dig his nails into his bicep with a sweet eye smile.

   “Yeah, I’m just being polite,” You turn back to glance at him and the door opens behind you with a swooshing gust of wind. It’s almost strong enough to knock you off your feet, but you only stumble as Mark reaches out to help stable you. Your styled hair is now messed up and you notice Jaemin’s disappointment under the raging fear. All of their eyes are fixed on the door behind you. “What?” You ask, glancing at Mark. “Is there something behind me?”

   “No. Thank goodness. I didn’t want to have to save you,” Haechan walks up next to you, his chest puffing up as he tries to look tough while peering into the dark house. You resist smacking him upside the head for his comment. “It looks empty.”

   “Just like we thought,” Jeno adds, his words meant to comfort the group, but you could tell it was mostly directed at Jaemin who was shaking in his boots. Jeno gently fixes the spy cap on Jaemin’s head before his own.

   “So, we go in?” Haechan asks, again pretending he didn’t just ask a question as he starts to walk through the crack in the door. Mark, again, yanks him back by the collar, to which the former whines about choking.

   “Would you stop doing things all willy nilly?” Mark stresses, fixing the wrinkles he had caused in Haechan’s button-down. Haechan shrugs and Mark sighs, using his foot to open the door the rest of the way.  The darkness fades instantly when the lanterns flicker to life inside the house. “Okay, now let’s go.”

   You all walk inside with you in the front for once, the door closing behind Jeno and Jaemin but you aren’t sure who closed it. There’s an ambient sound of the fire crackling softly from the lanterns. The inside of the house is a stark contrast to the exterior. It’s well maintained and neat down to the very last speck of dust, almost like a museum. The room you had all walked into was the foyer, a thin room almost like a long rectangle with stairs stretching up the right wall toward a landing with three doors. You notice everything is severely outdated, the carpet red with gold floral accents and the walls half dark wood paneling and half faded floral wallpaper. There’s a dark wood table just to the left of you between two dark archways, it holds a priceless porcelain vase filled with stunningly preserved roses and you can smell their faint aroma from where you stand. To your right, just before the stairs is another archway leading into the right side of the house, and next to it is a coat rack which holds a small, but expensive, fur coat.

   “Woah, this place is-”

   “Stunning,” You breathe, your feet taking you down the hall as if you were floating and Mark’s hand narrowly misses your cape. Your eyes trail along every detail. Surprisingly, Jaemin is right behind you, leaving the rest of the boys at the door. You both reach the farthest arch on the left side, practically hand in hand, and you step through it first. The lights in this room flickering to life as well, revealing a lavish living space.

   You and Jaemin both gasp. Floor to ceiling bookshelves line two walls, a marble fireplace between a couple on one wall. There’s dark wood flooring in here but the couches and chairs are the same patterns as the carpet in the foyer. There’s a bearskin rug between the three couches and an antique coffee table sits on top of it. The shelves have collectibles too, dispersed between thousands of books. One of them, you note, is a Moomin figurine which is out of place in the traditional home.

   You glance back at the fireplace, suddenly regarding a large portrait above it, your feet gluing themselves to your spot on the floor. The person in the portrait is beautiful, much like the house. His eyes seem to pierce your very soul as you stare into them, and his expression is that of arrogance and power. He’s dressed in black gothic clothing but he has a stark white choker with a deep red-ruby. His hair is black, pulled out of his eyes but it brushes against his forehead in a few stray strands. You felt you could stare at him for hours, he was that handsome.

   “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Haechan chuckles into your ear, snapping you out of your daze as you flinch away from him. Your fist comes out to punch him in the shoulder before you can even process it. He yelps, catching the other boys’ attention from their spot examining the books.

   “What’s wrong?” Mark asks, still on edge as his eyes scan Haechan frantically.

   “Nothing, nothing,” Haechan grunts softly, rubbing his shoulder while he points to the piece of art. “Just making fun of Y/N for falling in love with a painting.”

   “I wasn’t falling in love!” You protest, your cheeks flaring with heat.

   “Okay, then what were you doing? Admiring the art?” Haechan asks, a little quirk to his lips. “Or that guy’s face?”

   You reach out to hit him again and he flinches, running away from you to hide behind Jeno, his tongue poking out to mock you. You get ready to chase him, but you decide against it, not wanting to accidentally knock something expensive over.

   “Oh, Y/N, I don’t blame you,” Jaemin gasps, his hands cupping his cheeks before one hand lowers to fan himself. You look over at him. “He’s so pretty!”

   “Hey,” Jeno suddenly speaks up with a pout.

==≎==

   You all spend the next hour exploring the bottom floor of the house. Jaemin follows you around to take pictures of anything he thought looked cool which was mostly you in your vampire costume doing casual things around the house. “Your vibes, Y/N! You suit this house so well!”

   You didn’t pay him any attention, focusing on finding out who that boy in the painting was. You snoop through the bookshelves in the living room while the others mess around in the kitchen. Jaemin got bored of you ignoring his pose ideas and left to join the others. You found a black and white picture of a toddler in a suit, a bit blurry as it seemed the toddler would not stop moving, but it was definitely him. You barely noticed your fingers starting to trace the boy’s features, quickly withdrawing upon realization, a sharp heat scorching the apples of your cheeks as you walk around and see what other pictures you can find.

   You found another of the boy, a bit older than the last picture, in the front garden you and the boys had gathered in. He was sweetly observing the flowers and a few specks that were most likely bees, and even in the poor quality, you could see the precious smile he wore. Your lips slowly curve into a smile the longer you stare at the photo. You were viciously torn from your daze when a loud shatter rang through the house, loud yelling following after and alerting you.

   “Haechan you idiot!” Mark. He sounded like he was on the verge of bawling his eyes out and, when you find them in the foyer, it looks like he is. The priceless vase that once stood on the table, lay on the floor in absolute ruin. There were shards of porcelain everywhere.

   “What have you done! We’re going to be cursed!” Jaemin wails, his face in his hands.

   “Guys, guys, relax. Just watch out for the pieces.” Jeno’s hands stuck out between the group of boys as a means of mediation.

   Before anyone could speak again, Haechan’s mouth already open to defend himself, the sound of a door opening upstairs alerts everyone. Dread fills everyone’s faces, yours included. Mark is the first to move, snatching Haechan’s collar and bolting for the door as fast as he can, pushing Jeno out of his way in his haste to get out. Haechan’s voice is pitchy as he cries out in fear. Jeno is right behind them, his arms tightly around Jaemin as he hauls him out, both of them muttering to each other what you can assume are comforting words. You try to leave as well, but a voice calls out to you, accompanied by the door slamming shut in front of you. Instantly, you hear faint banging and yelling from the other side of the door, but it seems you have other things to focus on.

   “Who are you?” The voice is soft and would seem timid if it weren’t for the forceful undertone. You slowly turn to face the person addressing you, your jaw almost dropping in sheer awe.

   It was the boy from the painting, standing at the top of the staircase in all his glory. He was even prettier in person, even with the flecks of paint on his cheeks and the casual clothing he sports. He has a pair of spectacles low on his nose that you can’t help but find adorable, he squints at you over the top of them. His hair is a mess, sticking up in all directions as if he was tugging at it restlessly. You notice cute little Moomin slippers on his feet as well.

   “Hello? I asked you a question. Who are you?” He calls, his arms crossing and his pretty bottom lip quickly sticking out in a pout.

   You gulped down the spit that had collected in your mouth. Was everyone in this town drop-dead gorgeous? “I-I’m Y/N.”

   “Y/N?” He tests your name on his tongue, looking thoughtful as he cautiously steps down a few stairs. He gives you a once over, his eyes resting on your exposed collarbones and neck, where Jaemin had created fake puncture wounds, before they met yours again. “I’m Renjun. Now, I don’t usually get visitors. Ever. So, what are you doing in my house? Besides breaking expensive stuff and looking like an overly sexualized version of my friend YangYang? It’s a little rude, you know, we don’t look like that or dress like that, actually.”

   You felt yourself become tense. Great, not only has he trapped me in his house to probably kill me, he’s mocking my costume which isn’t even mine! He said it - wait a minute, “W-We?”

   His lips part in surprise, like he wasn’t supposed to have let that slip. You quickly take notice of a pair of little fangs protruding from under his top lip. Your face quickly flushes, your fading makeup doing little to hide it. He lets out a shy chuckle. “Well, yes, I-I’m a vampire. Do humans not think we’re real anymore?”

   You’re speechless, your mouth opening and closing uselessly like a fish out of water. You can’t decide if you are afraid or in awe. You feel faint, the words almost not processing completely.

   “I-I’m sorry to have dropped that bomb on you, but could we get back to the task at hand? Your friends kind of, you know, broke my favorite vase and ran.” His hand slowly stretches out to point at the collection of shards on his carpet. You shake your head to come back to Earth.

   “Oh right, I am so, so sorry, Renjun.” His name feels funny coming out of your mouth and you feel like you don’t have the right to call him by his name. However, it seems you using his name softens something up in him and he looks away from you shyly. 

   “I guess you’ll have to pay me in some way,” He suddenly says, his eyes finding yours again. You deflate, you knew something like this was going to happen, maybe not getting stuck in a vampire’s house, but you knew you would have to pay for your friends’ stupid actions tonight in some way. It happened when they all forgot their wallets when you went out for McDonald’s at three in the morning and it was happening again, but this time you wondered if you would be paying with your life instead of spare change. “That vase was priceless.”

   You close your eyes, waiting for him to finally attack you. “I understand,” You whisper.

   “W-Wait,” Renjun’s soft voice sounds panicked and you furrow your brow in confusion before opening your eyes again. He seems to have an epiphany. “Ah! I’m so sorry! I’m not going to hurt you! Oh gosh, did you think I was going to kill you or something? Drink your blood?” You nod slowly, even more confused. “Oh, Y/N, I’m not like that! I don’t drink straight from humans, that’s gross.”

   “What are you going to do to me then?” You ask.

   “D-Do to you?” Renjun stammers, his cheeks turning a pale blue hue, and his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates. You nod again, watching him start to frantically wave his hands. “Nothing! I won’t even lay a hand on you! I was just gonna ask you to keep me company!” 

   “Keep you company?”

   “I just - I haven’t left my house in like... years. And, YangYang actually moved to Germany so I haven’t seen him in a while and I’ve just been,” He hesitates, the conflict behind his eyes evident. “I’ve just been really lonely.”

   You feel like you’ve been hit with a brick to the chest, the air leaving your lungs and turning into pain, feeling for the boy in front of you. Even with friends, you know exactly how he feels. It hurts you to know that the first social interaction he’s had with anyone in a while has been you and your friends breaking into his house.

   “Oh, Renjun,” Your arms reach out to pull the boy into an embrace before you can even process it. The way you say his name makes him shudder despite not being able to feel cold. You pull away suddenly when you realize, both of you growing shy. “Wait, are you sure you want to be friends with someone who broke into your house? And someone who’s friends with an idiot who smashed your favorite vase?”

   “Absolutely, I would like that more than anything” He mumbles, finding it in himself to gently take your hands. “You are really lovely -- s-so far, at least. And, I want you to introduce me to this idiot friend of yours, I want to give him a piece of my mind.”

   You both share a laugh after that, and you hug him once more without even telling yourself to. “Then I would love to keep you company.”

   “Th-Thank you.”

==≎==

   “Y/N!” Before you could even close the door behind yourself, Haechan’s arms were suffocating you in one of the tightest hugs you had ever received from him. His face quickly buries into your shoulder and you feel the sticky wetness of his snot and tears on your bare skin. You forgo disgust in lieu of comforting your friend who seems to be more shaken up about the situation than you. You gently pet his hair while he nuzzles against you, rambling through his sobbing. “I’m so sorry! I swear, we tried to open the door, we really did! It was locked!”

   You try to talk, but he hugs you tighter with the rest of the boys quickly following suit, only a puff of air passing through your lips. “We thought we had killed you!” Jaemin cries, his head taking up your other shoulder from behind. You can’t exactly tell whose arm is whose around you. The hug lasts a little longer, Haechan and Jaemin mumbling and sniveling against your neck, and even with the obvious bodily fluids you can feel spreading around, warmth spreads through you at the notion that they care.

   “Was there a demon in there?” Mark asks with a trembling voice, backing away from the group hug with his eyes boring into yours as if to make sure your soul was still intact. He seems to scare himself looking back inside through the windows.

   “Nothing hurt you, right?” Jeno’s hands reach over the two boys still squeezing the life out of you to cup your cheeks and turn your head side to side.

   “I’m fine! I’m fine!” You rasp, “I just… can’t breathe.”

   Instantly, Jaemin and Haechan let you go, apologizing to you and choosing to coddle each other instead. The boys let out a collective sigh of relief. You let a small smile spread across your face before it drops. “Wait, I just realized something!” You gasp, the boys growing tense.

   “What? What? What is it?” Jaemin asks, leaving Haechan to hold both of your hands between his. His eyes worriedly scan your face.

   “You guys grabbed each other and just left me!”

   “Uh oh,” Haechan whispers, knowing your tone all too well. “Run!”

   Instantly the boys take off, much like they did inside the house, however, this time they are laughing. You race down the stairs after them before your body stops and turns you around to look at the second-floor windows. You can faintly see Renjun smiling brightly at you through the moon’s glare, he raises his hand and yours does too. He waves, but your hand doesn’t. Mind control. “Cool,” You whisper under your breath and he laughs from inside the house. You smile and wave back before Haechan calls from the tree line and you run to catch up.

I guess I owe myself ten dollars.

[lustinglilac]

Disrespect

A/N: Garcia siblings are back baby! And this time, they get into some unwanted trouble at a local bar... (Platonic!Reader x Benny)

Warnings: strong language, sexual harassment, blood. *gif not mine*

Their late night bar “dates”, as she had named them, were always a good time. Pope and his sister stood on one side of the high-top table while Francisco and Benny stood across from them. Will hadn’t been able to attend tonight, though, having had some things to sort out.

She looked particularly hot tonight, blue jeans hugging her thighs and ass in all the right places paired with a dark crop top that stopped right at her bellybutton.

“Let’s fuckin’ go, baby!” Benny hollered as he downed his second shot, slamming the glass down onto the wooden table with a reverberating clink.

“Benny, we literally just got here.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“So what! You know you used to be way more fun, Garcia.” He scoffed, winking at the annoyed expression on her face.

“Oh, really? Okay. Me and Frank verse you and Pope. Let’s go.” She nodded her head in the direction of an unoccuppied pool table in the corner of the dimly lit bar.

Benny smirked at her, eyes flitting between Pope and Fish, “Why do I get Pope? You take ‘im, he’s your brother.”

“I‘m with him every single day of my life, give me a break, Benny.” She spoke a little too loudly and Pope had heard her amidst his conversation with Frank, making him frown, “Kidding, Tiago!” She cut him off with a tight smile as they made their way over.

“Alright, fair enough. What’re we playin’ for?” Benny drawled, passing down the pool sticks to his friends.

“Losers have to—“ Frank paused, thinking of a good way to end the sentence. “Losers have to go skinny dipping in the lake behind the high school!” He points his finger wildly in Pope and Benny’s direction.

“Frank?! And what if we lose? I’m not doing that!” She put her hands up, not wanting any part of that deal.

“I mean it would suck but I’m not arguin’—“ Benny smirked, weighing his options in his head.

Pope disagreed with a violent shake of his head, “We’re not doin’ that.”

Frank grimaced, slowly realizing that it probably wouldn’t be the best idea, “Yeah, never mind. We’ll just let the winners decide at the end.” He winked, nudging her softly making her laugh.

“Ladies first.” Benny bumped her shoulder playfully on his way past her, pretending like he didn’t see her standing there. She narrowed her eyes at him, pressing her lips into a thin line.

She leaned her body over the table, calculating her shot carefully before scattering the colored balls across the velvet. Only two had pocketed as she tried again, not being able to make anymore.

Frank shouted a compliment, high-fiving her as she walked back to him. She simply watched as the younger Miller took three easy shots, failing to make a fourth one.

“Your turn, Frankie.” She encouraged him to move towards the table as he set up his shot. Frank looked like a pro at it, showcasing his skills as he too managed to pocket three balls.

“Okay, Fish!” Her eyes widened, she raised her eyebrows at him, smirking at his talent.

“Y’all suck!” Benny taunted loudly, slapping Pope on the ass as he leaned over the table to get his shot in, “Get ‘em Pope.”

She gasped at his action, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a laugh as not to distract her brother.

“Benny! What the fuck? Don’t smack my ass!” Pope grimaced at his partner, turning back around to focus on winning. He, like his sister, managed to sink two in and retreated back to the corner where his teammate stood.

“Let’s go, we’re halfway through. You got this, baby.” Frank egged her on, pinching her shoulders before she stepped up to the table once more.

Unbeknown to them, they’d had a few spectators watching as they played the game. They were particularly focused on the pretty girl with the gorgeous body who was currently setting up her shot, bent over the table.

“Hey gorgeous! Why don’t you come over here and bend that ass over my lap—“

Pool game completely discarded the moment the words left the punk’s mouth. Their pool sticks dropped to the ground harshly, wood on wood colliding.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Benny’s eyes narrowed into slits, turning his whole body to face the bar where the disgusting man and his disgusting friends were seated.

“Don’t— do not.” She pleaded with her brother and Benny and Frank. She tried to hold Pope back by his shirt to no avail. But they were fuming, no, worse, they were livid.

“Move.” Pope’s voice deadly as he spoke to his sister. Frank gently pulled her to the side out of Santiago’s way, she anxiously watched her brother approach the man who was bold enough to make a comment so lewd about his little sister.

“What? I can’t have some fun? She’s a pretty thing.” The drunk man slurred in his face, cackling obnoxiously loud as two of his friends riled him up.

That was all it took for Santiago to reel his arm back, landing a bone-cracking punch to the bastard’s face, knocking him full force off of the bar stool.

Benny stalked behind him, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides dying to get a shot in, “Watch out, Pope—“ He seethed eagerly, staring down at his bloody face.

His two friends did nothing to back him, shutting up immediately at the sight of the two revenge seeking men who had come to the “pretty thing’s” defense.

“Don’t you ever disrespect a woman like that. I’ll fuckin’ kill you— you hear me?! Motherfucker!” Benny had gotten the man pinned beneath him with his hands wrapped tightly around his throat, throwing in three punches for good measure and continuing to yell at the pervert.

“Frank— Frank you have to stop them.” She spoke hurriedly, begging him to go over there and stop the commotion. Fuck, she just wanted to go home.

Frank was torn between wanting to get in on the action or take her advice and stop his own friends from getting detained if the fight lasted any longer.

“Shit.” Frank muttered under his breath, running over to the scene, “Benny, enough man.” Frank grunted, pulling a very begrudging Miller off of the barely conscious body.

“Piece of shit.” Benny grunted with a final kick to his leg.

Pope had noticed the worker behind the bar had a phone to her ear, most likely on the line with the police.

“Let’s get outta here.” Pope spoke, wiping his knuckles on the back of his pants wincing quietly before taking his sister’s hand and leading the four of them out of the bar.

No one dared to stop them as they walked out, not one employee, they’d all heard what was said and they knew the vile man had it coming.

Once they were outside, she shut her eyes for a brief moment. Finally able to breath properly, she inhaled deeply, her lungs filling desperately.

“Bastard.” Benny grunted under his breath, face red with anger as he paced back and forth, trying to calm his rapid heart rate.

“We should go before the cops get ‘ere—“ Frank replied hastily, the faint sound of sirens approaching catching their attention momentarily.

Pope wiped at his mouth, “Hijo de puta. Fucking sick bastards.” He breathed out through his nose, leading them to where they were parked. He fished his keys out of his pocket slowly as not to disturb the swelling knuckle of his right hand.

She was quiet, getting into her brother’s vehicle silently, occupying the seat behind Pope as Benny settled in next to her behind Frank, their knees knocking together as he found a comfortable position, leaning his head against the window.

Benny was less heated now, his pulse returning to a normal rhythm, “Shit— we didn’t even get to finish the game.” He jolted upright, looking to the girl sitting beside him.

“It was a tie.” She remembered correctly, both teams had each sunk the same amount of balls.

“We were definitely winning though—“ Frank nodded his head, attempting to convince his friends that they would’ve been the winners had they finished playing.

“Not a chance.” Benny smirked at the younger girl who couldn’t help but scoff at him.

Coming to a harsh stop at a red light, Santiago hissed, “Fuck— my hand’s killing me. Benny, you alright?” He asked him, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah— for now. I’m not feelin’ it yet.” He looked down at his own knuckles, the dark red blood drying on them.

“Well, we’re definitely not coming back to this bar anytime soon.” She hummed, looking out the window as they began to drive again, “Or ever, honestly.”

Benny’s arm absentmindedly wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him as she relaxed into his side.

“You’re getting real close back there, Miller. I don’t like it.” Pope eyed them warily.

“He literally just fought someone for me. It’s a gesture of kindness, Tiago.” She glared at him, one eyebrow arched in his direction.

“So did I!” He scoffed, raising his arms.

“Someone’s jealous.” Benny’s statement provoked him even more, making Frank laugh from the passenger seat and earning him a pointed stare from Pope.

Pope laughed humorlessly at him, “Just— keep a distance, please.” He grimaced.

“Whatever floats your boat, handsome.” Benny winked at him in the reflection.

She rolled her eyes, biting back a grin, pushing off of Benny and sitting back in her spot.

“I love fuckin’ with you, Pope.” Benny snickered, reaching over to grab at his shoulder pinching it between his fingers.

“Yeah, yeah.” The older Garcia grunted, rolling his eyes.

Tags: @chibsytelford

[calligraphist-artemisia]

16 | Will-o’-the-Wisp

Written for Kidgetober 2020. Week 2 Theme: Myths & Magic. Day 16: Will-o’-the-Wisp.

Summary: Set in the Harry Potter universe.  Pidge finds herself lost in the woods on a dark, moonless night. She'd given up hope on getting home before sunrise when suddenly a light appeared between the trees to lure her deeper into the forest. Luckily, a handsome stranger is around to save her.

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune. Titled as “Magic of the Season”.

- - - - -

16 | Will-o'-the-Wisp

Pidge trudged through the undergrowth, cursing herself for deciding to take a stroll through the woods on a dark, moonless night. Why did she think it was such a good idea? She hated the woods! And nature in general.

Yes, she was definitely the indoors-y type, best suited to viewing the world from a screen and the comfort of her home.

She shivered and hugged herself, rubbing her arms with the hope of creating enough friction to generate warmth. She glanced up to try and see the stars but the canopy of trees completely blocked her view and the only thing that greeted her was more darkness. Her breath came in tiny pants as she looked around, barely able to make out the thick trunks, and it sank in just how well and truly lost she was.

Someone once told her: “the best thing to do when you're lost is to stay where you are”. But did that really apply when no one knew she was out there?

Pidge stopped and took a deep breath to try and calm down. What she needed to do was take a moment to think logically about the situation, highlighting all of the details she knew, and then come up with a workable plan from there.

So.

She was lost in the woods and it was too dark to see anything past a few inches from her face.

Her cell phone was very dead, though she did have a charging cable if she could find a place to use it.

She had no real way of navigating her way back to civilization.

Pidge reached out until she felt the bark of the nearest tree and used it as a way to ground herself. She briefly considered climbing up as high as she could go and hope it would be enough to get a look at the stars, which she could then use to get her bearings, but dismissed the idea as being potentially too dangerous.

There was nothing she could do but wait out the night and find her way once the sun rose once again.

She leaned against the tree and tilted her head back, wishing she could see something. Even the smallest pinprick of light would give her hope.

Pidge wasn't sure how long she stood there, her mind whirling through all of the different possibilities of how and when she would make it back to civilization and even entertaining the idea of someone heroically swooping in with a flashlight to save her. It was fun to imagine, though she knew it wasn't something that was going to happen.

She lowered her eyes and that was when she saw it: something glowing in the distance, lighting up the trunks of trees around it. Pidge held her breath in surprise. Surely she was hallucinating, right?

“Hello?” she called out.

She didn't get a response, but the light bobbed around a bit, as though whoever was holding it was trying to draw her in closer.

Or lead her out of the forest.

Pidge pushed away from the tree and began walking towards the light, praying that she wouldn't snag her foot on the undergrowth. To her confusion, the closer she got, the farther away the light seemed to move, occasionally stopping to sway and let her get a little more caught up before moving away again.

“Who's there? Can you slow down a bit?” Pidge called out, frustration bleeding into her voice.

And just like that, the light stopped. It hovered there in place, growing larger and larger as she approached. It pulsed in a mesmerizing pattern as it appeared the drift in the air, but Pidge didn't take any notice of how odd the whole thing was as she continued to follow it even as she sank to her ankles in cold, muddy water.

She shivered but kept going, the light too entrancing to stop. It would lead her to safety. She knew it.

The water lapped at her calves as the mud clung tightly to her feet, making any movement difficult, but she had to keep going. She was going to get out of the woods and make it back to her safe and warm home before the sunrise and a little bit of water and mud wasn't going to stop her.

Nothing could stop her.

A jet of crackling red energy shot past her shoulder and collided with the bobbing light, which emitted an inhuman screech as it skipped backwards over the water. Pidge watched, dazed, as two additional red jets shot out from behind her, colliding twice more with the light until the screeching stopped.

And then, suddenly, the water moved away from her legs and Pidge swayed, thankfully prevented from falling over into the deep mud by a pair of hands on her shoulders.

There was someone there speaking to her, but their words were so muffled that she couldn't make out what they were saying. Nothing made much sense. Her thoughts were so discombobulated that she couldn't keep anything straight and when the heavy fog clouding her mind finally lifted enough for her to think straight, she was sitting on a soft couch in an unfamiliar room with a warm blanket wrapped around her and a man with dark hair kneeling in front of her, holding up a mug for her to take.

“Drink this. It should help clear the rest of your shock,” he told her gently.

Pidge's hands were shaking so badly that she wasn't sure if she'd be able to hold onto the mug without spilling the drink everywhere, but she gave it a try anyway, choosing to rest it on the top of her legs until she was sure she could lift it high enough to drink.

“W-what happened?” she asked.

There was a moment of silence that stretched on for long enough that she wondered if she needed to repeat herself.

“The forest around here is dangerous at night, but especially during the new moon. Usually it isn't a problem since most people stay away once night starts to fall. They find it unsettling,” he said. “That light you encountered was something most folks would call a 'will-o'-the-wisp'.”

Pidge's brow furrowed in confusion. “But that's... that's not real. That's just a fairytale.”

“They're real and very dangerous. Their only goal is to lead people astray, typically into bogs or marshes, and... Well, those people don't come back.”

Pidge shivered at the implication.

“You were trapped pretty deeply into its thrall when I showed up, but you'll be okay now,” he continued. “Drink that. I need to finish preparing the spare room for you.”

“Spare room?” Pidge questioned.

He shrugged a little and then stood up. “I thought you'd prefer the privacy while you sleep.”

A flash of alarm shot through Pidge and she fought not to spill her drink. “I'm staying here? But why? I mean, don't you have a car or something? You could take me back into town!”

“Any other night, maybe, but... not tonight. And not when the most important thing is you getting rest. An encounter with a will-o'-the-wisp is draining even for people who know what they're doing and I want to make sure you're really alright before I send you away,” he explained.

Pidge watched him walk away without another word and she sat there by herself for several long minutes before remembering she had a drink in her hands. She took a sip and was pleased by the rich taste of hot chocolate, which warmed her down to her core and helped chase away the last traces of fogginess in her head.

And that was when she noticed how exhausted she felt.

Maybe there was something to what the strange man said.

The strange man whose house she was expected to sleep in.

Pidge sat up a little straighter and took a suspicious look around. Wherever she was, it had the appearance of a cozy little cabin with hardwood floors and a real stone fireplace tucked away in the corner. If she craned her head a little she could see directly into the kitchen behind her. There were six other doors that she could see, three of which was closed. The other appeared to be a bathroom and the third was the room the stranger had gone into, so Pidge assumed that was the spare room he mentioned. The final two closed doors led out the front and the back.

It would be easy to get up and leave. There was nothing stopping her.

But... there was also no reason she shouldn't stay. It was still dark out and she had no idea which direction to go in order to get back to an area she recognized. Plus, the stranger (who still hadn't given her his name) didn't seem like a bad guy. Maybe he was a bit weird, going on about a creature that didn't exist as though it were a real thing that people worried about, but that seemed like more of a quirky character trait rather than something to be concerned about.

Okay, maybe she'd be locking the bedroom door before she went to sleep. And moving something in front of it so he couldn't get in until she was ready to get up. And double-checking the windows. Maybe there was a closet she could sleep in?

There was nothing wrong with erring on the side of caution.

Pidge drank more of the hot chocolate while she waited for the stranger to come back and when he did, she blurted out the biggest question on her mind: “Who are you?”

He paused, a look of surprise crossing his face. “Oh, uh, I'm Keith.”

“Pidge,” she responded, unwilling to give him her real name.

“Okay, well the room is ready for you. I found a shirt and some pants that should fit you, if you want to be more comfortable and you can use that bathroom over there to wash up,” Keith said, pointing to the bathroom Pidge noticed earlier. “If you need anything else, my room is right there. Just knock and I'll come out to help. And, uh, you can see the kitchen, so if you need anything from there just help yourself.”

Belatedly, she realized he was trying to give her a tour of the house.

Keith paused for a moment to give her time to speak, but when Pidge said nothing he shifted his feet and spoke again. “You can leave your cup in the sink and I'll take care of it in the morning. And that's pretty much it. Just... I don't recommend going back outside until the sun rises.”

“Because of your make-believe creatures?” Pidge couldn't help but ask.

“Because it's dangerous to be in unfamiliar woods in the dark,” he responded, a hint of challenge in his voice. “Look, I know you have no reason to trust me, but please listen to me on this and don't go outside. Even if you don't believe me about the will-o'-the-wisps there are other dangers, like wolves, that live out there.”

That was a good point.

Pidge quietly agreed to stay inside and watched as he relaxed, his relief completely obvious even to her. He offered a tiny smile and then said something about going to bed, leaving her completely alone on the couch.

She finished up her hot chocolate and put it in the sink like he said, though she did take the time to empty it and rinse it out first. Pidge debated for a moment whether or not she wanted to change her clothes before deciding she'd rather have something clean to wear, although...

Pidge glanced down at her jeans, which were surprisingly clean despite her vague memory of walking through mud.

Either way, jeans weren't comfortable to sleep in and she didn't see any harm in borrowing a shirt and pants, so she changed into those before going to check out the bathroom. The light clicked on by itself when she stepped inside and Pidge's gaze was automatically drawn to the round mirror over the sink.

She frowned and combed her fingers through her hair to try and tame the mess it had become, but there wasn't much she could do.

Apparently her reflection felt the same, because it shrugged at her once she was done and said: “Best rinse it out and try again, dear.”

Pidge blinked.

Then she opened her mouth and screamed as she backed away so quickly that her feet got tangled with each other and she toppled backwards. She felt pain and then blackness took over her vision.

The next time she opened her eyes, she was tucked beneath warm blankets and sunlight was streaming in through the windows. It took her a moment to remember everything that happened the night before, but as her brain started to fully wake up she jumped out of bed and set off to find Keith.

She needed answers and he was going to give them to her.

[kentsjohnson91]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄’𝐒 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍�� 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

in which john b is in love with you, but he doesn’t realize just how much he needs you until he can’t have you.

pairing; john b x reader

requested; no

tw; mentions of cancer (osteosarcoma) and death

John B was lying in bed at the château, his mind racing with thoughts. JJ was passed out on the couch, but he was having trouble falling asleep. He had an uneasy feeling in his stomach, and he felt as though if he fell asleep, he would miss something extremely important.

He turned to his side, his hand resting below his head but on top of his pillow. John B closed his hazel-brown eyes, attempting to fall asleep, but his mind wouldn’t let him. But his eyes stayed shut and his thought finally calmed, so he was getting there.

30 minutes later, just as the boy was about to fall asleep, his phone began ringing. He shot up and reached for his phone on the night stand to his left. When he picked it up, he saw your contact name. You and John B had been best friends since kindergarten, long before he had met JJ. You and JJ had gotten along, but you both had different interests, especially when Pope and Kiara joined their group, so John B had split his time equally between hanging out with them and hanging out with you. You had met Pope and Kie a couple of times, and they seemed super nice, you just didn’t have enough common interests, so you never really hung out with anyone but John B.

John B grew worried immediately. You guys had talked at night when you couldn’t fall asleep, but never at this time. It was nearly 3:00 AM, and if you couldn’t fall asleep he knew you would’ve called earlier. He slowly picked it up, his hands shaky, “Hello?”

It wasn’t you on the other line, though. It was your little sister, “John B, it’s time. You need to come over.” she sobbed through the phone, and his heart dropped, his eyes swelling with tears of his own.

“I... I’ll be right there.” he choked out before hanging up. John B shot up out of bed, and ran over to his dresser, opening the door and grabbing the first t-shirt he came across. He threw it on over his head and raced out of his room, grabbing his keys off the hook before racing over to JJ.

“JJ!” John B frantically shook him, which startled the boy awake, “We have...” but the brunette couldn’t finish his sentence.

JJ used his hands to scoot himself up on the couch, “John B, what is it?” he asked worriedly.

“I need... Y/N! Y/N, Y/N.” John B sobbed, throwing his keys to JJ. The blond boy knew what that meant, and he quickly put on his shoes and escorted John B out the door and to the van. JJ made sure that John B got in the back of the van safely before rushing over to the drivers seat and starting the van.

John B knew this was coming soon enough. When you had been diagnosed with Osteosarcoma at the beginning of freshman year, the prognosis was looking good. The cancer hadn’t spread anywhere from your femur. Later in the year, however, the cancer had spread to your lungs, and the long term survival rate dropped by a significant number. You had spent most nights in the hospital, going through rounds of radiation and chemotherapy, but John B was always there. He had been your best friend for 10 years. He wouldn’t leave you alone. The treatments weren’t working, however, and you grew progressively worse. After awhile in the hospital, you were moved to a bed in a spare room on the first floor of your house so that when what you guys were all dreading happened, you could be more comfortable.

But even though he knew this was coming, it didn’t make the pain hurt any less.

John B just stared blankly at his hands, “No. This isn’t real. Y/N is fine. She’ll be there to greet me with her bright smile, and I’ll know that everything’s okay.” he frantically repeated as he shook violently. He wrapped his arms around himself and pulled his knees into his chest, “No, she’s okay. If she wasn’t, she would tell me. Right, JJ? She would tell me, wouldn’t she?”

JJ barely heard John B and looked back to see him. He was so vulnerable. The fire in his eyes that was once lit seemed to be doused with more water with each passing second, “She’ll be alright, John B.” Of course, JJ didn’t mean that you were going to be okay when he went to say his goodbyes to you. He meant that you would be okay after you passed on. You wouldn’t be in pain anymore.

Deep down, John B knew that. But he was in denial right now. He couldn’t grasp that he was going to lose you. The concept of you leaving him alone slipped right through his fingers. He couldn’t process that, and plus, he’s only in denial if he’s wrong.

As JJ focused his eyes back on the road, John B checked his phone once more to see if anyone had texted him an update on you. Nothing was there, but the time caught his attention. It was 3:15, and he received the phone call from your little sister just 15 minutes earlier. To him though, it felt like a thousand years had passed from the time he dropped his phone after hearing your sister’s words to now.

John B could hear the raindrops splattering on the windows. It was sunny all of yesterday, and the rain had only started to fall about an hour earlier. He fiddled with the many bracelets on his right wrist, ultimately coming across one that you had made for him during one of your hospital stays. He offered it a half-hearted smile, bittersweet memories of the two of you coming back to him.

Suddenly, the van came to a stop. John B looked up to meet JJ’s eyes. JJ nodded. John B took a deep breath as he moved to exit the van. As soon as he got out, the rain came pouring down, but he didn’t care. His shoulders sagged as he walked towards the house where the two of you had shared an endless amount of memories together. As he reached the front door, he almost turned away. He didn’t want to go in, because what if you were about to let go? Then he would be wrong. But it was too late now, and just a second later, John B’s hands were repeatedly knocking on the painted wood of your front door.

It didn’t take long for someone to answer the door, “Hey, John B,” your little sister greeted, her face displaying how exhausted she was. John B felt so horrible for her. She was only thirteen. How was she supposed to function without you, her best friend? She opened the door further so he could step in, and he silently thanked her, walking in to find the living room empty. His heart dropped. It was all becoming too real.

“Sit down, John B. My mom and dad are talking to her right now. I’ll let them know you’re here.” your little sister spoke again, her voice cracking.

He nodded, sitting gently on the couch. His hair was dripping wet, and his greenish-gray t-shirt was soaked. He allowed his head to drop to his hands, attempting to wake himself up from a nightmare. Suddenly, the boy wished he had brought JJ in with him, instead of telling him to stay in the car.

“Thank you for coming, John B,” the voice of your mom made him snap his head up, “She’s in the guest room. Please, your time.” she explained, her voice tired and worn. He nodded, slowly getting up from his spot on the couch. He took in the expressions on everyone’s faces. They all looked so hopeless. As John B reached the door to the room, he shakily twisted the door knob, preparing himself to see you.

As he closed the door so it was just the two of you, he wanted to break right then and there. You were lying in a rented hospital bed. You were so pale, and fragile, and as much as John B wanted to admit it, lifeless. As he slowly moved closer to you, he could faintly see the slow rising and falling of your chest. He took a deep breath as his eyes began to water, pulling a chair towards your bed.

“Hey, Y/N,” he began, gripping onto one of your hands as a few tears slipped down his cheeks, “It’s me, JB. I, uh... I know you can’t hear me right now, but that’s okay. I-I came here tonight w-with the hope that you were going to be okay, b-but... seeing you here is making me wonder if you’re ever going to, uh... wake up.” John B sobbed out, placing his head down on your chest just to feel your weak heartbeat. “I guess it’s too late to say this now, but I’m going to say it anyway. I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you since the fucking seventh grade! And seeing you here now... it’s making me realize just how much I need you. I... Y/N, please don’t leave me. You’re the best part of me, my better half! I need you, but you’ve been so strong for me by fighting to hold on tight for this long. I... I understand t-that... that you can’t carry all this pain on your shoulders anymore. If you have to go... if it hurts too much to hold on, then let go. I can’t handle seeing you in this much pain. You... you deserve nothing but the best, sweet girl, and if that means leaving this place, then do it. I’ll be okay. Maybe not right away, but I’ll find a way, alright? You always have a special place in my heart, Y/N. Don’t forget that. I love you, and I will continue to love you and live the rest of my life for you, okay? I promise you. I know that you’ll be with me and you’ll love me from wherever you are.” he choked out, finally breaking down completely.

He gripped onto you tightly, not daring to let go. John B left a number of friendly kisses on your cheek and forehead, anxiously waiting for the moment that you were going to leave him. It was like that for a long time, his head gently resting on your chest to make sure you were breathing. He felt at peace lying with you, and he hoped that you felt the same way. No pain, just peace. His hazel-brown eyes were closed, but he didn’t dare fall asleep. Suddenly, the beating of your heart stopped. John B shot up and frantically checked your pulse, but it was no use. You had given up.

“No!” he sobbed out, “No, no! Please Y/N, you can’t leave me!”

“John B,” a whisper broke the Routledge boy out of his thoughts, and his eyes opened widely. When he looked up, he expected to see your little sister or your mom, but he was met with your face.

“Y/N?” he whispered quietly, not believing that you were in front of him, and his tears slowed down, but they still slipped down his cheeks and onto his gray bandana.

“JB, it’s me,” you whispered as you gently gripped onto his hands, “I just came to tell you that I’m going to be okay. I know you feel broken right now, so I’m not going to tell you to have a wonderful rest of your life. Instead, I’m telling you to just hold on. The darkest days of grief will fade after awhile, and the sun will rise again for you, John B. It’s going to be okay. Goodbye, I love you.”

He blinked, and your body slowly began to fade. John B was left blinking like a maniac, beginning to panic again.

“Y/N,” he whispered frantically, desperately reaching out to hug you one last time.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, sadness filling your tone as you pulled away from your best friend, “Goodbye, JB.”

John B started hyperventilating, not wanting you to leave just set. He began to mumble a series of “no’s” again, but as your body became barely visible, he knew that this would be it. Defeated, John B desperately searched for the words to say to you before you left, “Goodbye, my love. Don’t forget me. I love you.”

And as your body completely disappeared, he heard your whisper fade into thin air, “I love you too.”

a/n; this was also unedited, but i’ll go back and fix any mistakes i made tomorrow! <3

tags; @jjmaybnks @jjtheangel @maybankiara @jjouterbanks @jjmaybank @downbytheouterbankss @downbytheouterbanks @drewstarkey @supremestarkey @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @johnbroutledge @johnbsflowr @johnbstwinkie @kiespogues @heywards @jiaraforever

if you want to be added to any of my future taglists just let me know!

[dinglemingle]

Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy)

Chapter 5 

TW: Drug use + dealing TW: Vomit TW: Violence

This chapter contains explicit language.

Saturday mornings were not the time to be standing outside McDonald's whilst your dodgy mate dealed, but here Aaron was, freezing his arse off for a couple of quid.

To be honest, he'd hardly class Ross Barton as a mate, he'd only know him a few weeks, but he needed the money and Ross was more than happy to cut him in if he helped. A life of crime wasn't what Aaron had in store, but for the time being, it gave him enough money to not have to rely on his mum.

Relying on Chas was something you couldn't do, she'd make a promise then never see it through, or swear she only needed a fiver but somehow leave with twenty, which was of course never repaid. He did love his mum, and she tried her best, but her overbearing nature and mother knows best attitude could be a lot to handle sometimes.

He used to think he was the luckiest kid, to have Chas and Paddy, but by the time he'd hit 15 he realised how patronising they both were. Paddy had gotten worse in recent years, trying to manipulate him and overacting when he put the smallest foot out of line. Aaron knew he was just being protective, it didn't stop him from getting frustrated every time Paddy tried to control his life.

He still viewed Paddy as a father figure, still idolised him, he didn't think that would ever change, despite everything. Paddy had taken him in and loved him as his own, even now that Leo was here, he still made time. Add to that the fact that Paddy was the only one he'd spoken to about being gay

Aaron hadn't fully admitted it, not quite comfortable enough yet. He managed to confess his attraction to lads however and his curiosity. Paddy had been great, promised not to tell anyone and that he still loved him. Aaron didn't care, even telling one person had been too much, so they'd dropped the subject and never spoke of it again. Aaron preferred it that way, he didn't want all the attention that came with coming out or being the only gay in the village, still, he always noticed Paddy's watchful eye when he so much as looked at another boy

In a way, Paddy had helped him feel more comfortable, so he felt like he owed the man, couldn't write him off, no matter how pushy he could be. It was sort of an impossible situation, one he often kept at the back of his mind.

The thought however was interpreted when Ross emerged from the corner, cash in hand, grin up to his ears.

"There you are" he stuffed £40 into Aaron's hand and patted his shoulder

"Right so-" Aaron began, the ringing of Ross's Nokia cut him off

Ross retrieved the phone from his coat and gave Aaron the signal to wait

"Alright mate" Ross started

Aaron felt a bit useless, just stood there

"Outside Maccies mate, be there in a bit yeah" Ross continued, talking to the unknown source

He nodded a bit before finishing the call

"Right sound" he put the phone away and turned to Aaron

"Come on, we're picking up then dropping off" He spun back around and made his way towards the bus station, Aaron closely following behind

Bus journeys were usually calming for Aaron, not this one though, as Ross painfully made small talk, going on about which girls had the nicest tits and had Aaron got any recently? Of course, he had replied with "Yes Ross, in fact, it was your younger brother in a dingy wood."

The pick up had somehow been worse, a bunch of lads Aaron only knew from their bad reputations, who had somehow made friends with Ross in the five minutes he'd been in Yorkshire

Aaron didn't speak, just stood waiting for Ross to hurry up. He wasn't scared of the lads, but the knowledge that they'd batter him if they knew who he was made him feel uneasy

After what felt like 10 years Ross appeared from the kitchen, a shed load of drugs stashed in his coat

Soon they were back on the bus, this journey being silent, thank god, and at Tanya Holden's house

She opened the door with that sour-faced look that was glued to her like a bad stain. Her mega-rich parents were away for the weekend,so the beer bottles and bodies lying around weren't much of a surprise

"Ah babe why didn't you invite me" Ross signalled to the clear remnants of a party whilst trying to hug Tanya

"Piss off" was her response, as he pushed him away

Ross laughed and held his hands up, Aaron was still in the doorway, hating being there, feeling all the more awkward as Tanya had of course been one of the girls Ross deemed "shaggable" on the bus

She noticed his presence

"This one don't speak?" She questioned, reaching for her purse

Aaron's cheeks flushed

"Oh he's shy" Ross approached, pinching his pink cheeks

Aaron batted his hands away, rolling his eyes

Ross laughed again "soft lad"

Tanya had pulled out some money and was waving it in Ross' face

"The stuff?" she questioned

Ross didn't hesitate before producing a few bags

Coke, Aaron thought, to be honest, he didn't know, or maybe he just didn't care

Sometime between leaving Tanya's and getting the bus back to town, Ross had mentioned a party that night, he'd only been invited because he had drugs, and he thought Aaron might be up for it

Up for it wasn't how Aaron felt at all, but he appreciated the offer, and he'd grown tired of spending his Saturday's third-wheeling with Vic and Adam, so at half-past 8, he was in the back of a Vauxhall Corsa with Ross, on the way to god knows where, pockets stuffed with Ket

Midnight was fast approaching and Aaron was positively off his face. He hadn't gotten this high in a long time, preferring the odd joint over a full-on bender.

There was a time this would be his usual weekend activity, but he'd moved on from that crowd and away from nights spent in A&N with sick down his shirt.

At age 15 he'd had his stomach pumped 4 times and was already dealing and nicking anything he could find, an attempt to make a few quid quid so he could go and buy more drugs.

The life of crime had soon caught up with him, when he'd been battered by the McFarlanes for a deal gone wrong. It was after this that he packed it all in.

Yet here he was again, falling back into bad habits, stumbling through a crowd of drunk teenagers and a couple of blokes who looked way to old to be knocking back dark fruits with 16 year olds.

Before long he'd found himself in the bathroom of whoever the fucks house this was. Alone with his thoughts his mind began racing, Aaron couldn't decide if it was because of the substances or the blonde boy he hadn't seen in over two weeks.

Well, that was a lie, of course, it was, Aaron couldn't escape seeing Robert, he was constantly there, sauntering through the halls, or snogging Chrissie in the common room

But Aaron hadn't actually seen Robert, not properly. He hadn't seen him up at the farm, getting chastised by Jack, or on a night out, sat dazed in the toilets, rambling about bullshit whilst he scrolled through his phone.

He hadn't seen the cocky glint in his eye or the smug smirk. And it was bothering him

Ever since that day at the unused classroom it was like a switch had gone off in Robert. There were no snarky comments or digs coming Aaron's way anymore. He didn't want to get carried away but he could've sworn Robert was avoiding him.

Maybe he'd touched a nerve,he didn't know, and quite frankly he didn't care what the reason was,he was just pissed off.

Sure he didn't like Robert telling him to fuck off or taking the piss out of his cheap trainers, but this was awful

This, god this was so much worse.

The constant impenetrable silence, the complete of avoidance of each other everywhere they went,it was killing him. Aaron craved Roberts attention, he craved the rush of Robert calling his name or the way they'd bicker in the canteen.

Aaron hadn't realised just how much he relied on Robert to feel a buzz. Sure a part of him hated arguing with the prick,but these last few weeks he'd realised he absolutely loved it as well

At that moment, as he collapsed into an empty bathtub, ribs aching and vision blurred from aggressive strobe lights, Aaron realised he'd rather hate Robert for the rest of his life then never have anything with him at all

As if by some sick force of nature Robert Sugden himself stumbled into the bathroom,fly already down, beelining for the toilet before he wet himself and spoiled his new Ralph Lauren jeans

Aaron's eyes looked as the tall hazy blonde raced passed him and for a split second believed Robert himself was a god and that the heavens must be real

Others would say it was the ridiculously large number mushrooms he'd consumed earlier that evening

"What the fuck" Aaron's dreams of god's and angel's were disturbed by a visibly startled Robert,who was staring at him, jeans at the knees and white briefs protecting his modesty

Aaron would be lying if he said he didn't look, after all, he had to confirm if the rumours were true

"Fuck off Dingle!" Shit. There it was, just like that Aaron was sober, his eyes wide open as he realised that Robert really was there, in front of him and he desperately clambered out of the bath and through the door,which expectantly closed with a loud bang and a murmur of "for fucks sake" and "can't take a piss in peace"

Once back downstairs, though not really remembering how he'd got there, Aaron had headed straight for the kitchen for another drink, he didn't like this sudden sobriety, in a strange sort of way it left him feeling naked, vulnerable, unable to hide behind the mask of a drunk persona.

He'd downed a Budweiser,two dark fruits and done 4 vodka shots when he next saw Robert. The blonde was making his way into the living room from the garden, sweat glistening his forehead and quite clearly fucked out of his mind.

He stumbled in through the doors, leaving mud stains on a perfectly beige carpet, though at this point everyone was far too pissed to care and in true Robert fashion had gone flying into Brandon Keene, Hotten's biggest wanker, spilling his Stella (typical) all over his definitely underage girlfriend

Without a moment to spare, Robert was flying through a crowd of people and crash landing onto the couch, nose gushing with blood after being punched right in the face

Suddenly a crowd of drunken teens had formed and all began chanting fight! fight! fight!

Aaron rolled his eyes as Robert charged at Brandon, wrestling him to the floor

Aaron didn't even know why Brandon was there, he'd left college two years earlier and was known for being a nasty gobshite. Last Aaron heard he'd swanned off to Liverpool with a new modelling job. Obviously not

Within mere minutes a couple of punches had been thrown and the sweaty bodies around him had almost duplicated, Aaron decided it was too much hassle and too much noise and made the motion to leave.

Robert had other ideas,he'd looked up from being smacked by the twat on top of him and locked eyes with Aaron right as he decided to go.

Aaron couldn't quite pinpoint what it was in Robert's eyes. Fear? Anguish? Desperation? Whatever it was it saw Aaron pulling off Brandon with all of his might, and throwing him as far into the crowd as humanly possible

When he turned round Robert was already stood smugly in the centre of the living room like he hadn't just been beaten to a pulp

That's when the tidal wave of drugs, alcohol and the way Roberts nose had been rearranged from the rest of his face came over him and he threw up everywhere

The carpet was a mix of sweat, blood and tears quite literally,and now Aaron's sick

He'd never been bothered by blood and gore but the heat and the intensity of everything got that better of him and it was too late to do anything

He turned to see Robert stood there with his sick all over his shirt and shoes

Aaron felt like he'd be sick again. The music became all blurry and he vaguely caught snippets of the abuse Robert hurled his way

His fists were sweaty and his head was spinning he felt like he was losing control. The weight of the room collapsed on his shoulders as he saw the camera flashes and heard the sniggers. The air in his lungs vanished as he desperately pushed through the crowd, never having been so mortified on his life.

He'd escaped with Roberts voice echoing "you fucking freak" over and over and over again as he collapsed halfway down the street, hot tears brutally spilling from his red eyes. The night air hit him violently,he'd left his jacket somewhere in there

But he couldn't go back. No

He'd just thrown up on Robert. Fucking Robert. In Front of half of his college

Aaron physically felt his stomach churn,but not because he was going to be sick, but because he'd never felt so ashamed,so stupid, in that moment he wanted to disappear.

So he got up and ran through the streets,crying, humiliated,the cold air shaking him, and he didn't stop til he got to some random kebab shop in town, where he'd sat on the pavement,with no jacket,no money,only his dead phone and a trackie pocket full of shitty receipts for two hours before a stranger let him use their phone

And when at 1:27 am he'd buried himself in the passenger seat of his uncle Cain's car, no questions asked,he declared officially that he fucking hated Robert Sugden,but more importantly,

he hated himself.

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Aaron spent the weekend at Cain's, much to Chas' dismay but he really didn't care, he felt awful and he knew his mum would only pry

He'd charged his phone, but had avoided it all weekend for fear of seeing what people had said

It was at 1:44 am on Monday when he'd finally plucked up the courage to turn his phone on when he saw a text from a familiar yet distant number

Sorry,R