#in fact he won't snap from One Single Thing alone unless you're like

[spring-lxcked]

listen college william is absolutely doing everything he can to get his shit together and not be Visibly Violent, but i do think him going completely apeshit, like, once would be funny

[heresathreebee]

Waters Brackish and Briny (four)

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

Summary: the first of many strange and unusual occurrences to come in your new home. Previous Masterlist Next

Tags: 15+ | 2k words | hauntings, an argument, physical intimidation 😬, secrets, crying

AN: hey remember there were ghosts in Things Seen and Heard? Personally I hate angst so sorry y'all 😔 I will NOT leave it here for long

SECOND WEEK

Ralph went back to work and the house became empty once more. Empty except for yourself and the house. And possibly a rat or two. You set up traps and finished moving the furniture in the downstairs rooms into place. The previous owners left a decently conditioned upright piano behind when they moved. A few scuffs on the legs and a toy soldier in the strings, but perfectly playable and barely out of tune. Nothing a little warm up couldn't change.

You ate lunch on the piano bench, glaring at the unfinished archway leading to the solar room. Should you sweep first or measure the windows to be fitted for panes? Do you want regular clear glass or some stained glass? Get crazy with it? 

You waste a couple hours playing basic melodies and manage to squeeze in time to do all the measurements for the windows before 3 pm. You take down the paper on the floor most window holes and sweep the dust and leaves and branches outside. You mop till the hardwood floor shines but you hate the white beech wood and add varnish to the To Do list. 

You ring up the Vayle boys you met the day you unloaded your furniture. "Hey Eddie! I was planning on making something for you and Cole as a thank you but I need some supplies first." 

It rained in the afternoon and Ralph came home with mud on his pants. "Baby what happened? Did you fall?" 

Ralph looked supremely annoyed. "One of the kids took a tumble and grabbed me for support. We both went down." 

You know he's in a sour mood but you can't stifle your laughter. You coo at him, looking over the damage to his suit. He's got mud caked on the seat of his pants and flecks of it as high as the back of his neck. You help him strip as much as appropriate with guests in the house. 

Your husband sniffs the vanilla scent from the air and looks at you incredulously. "Did you make cookies?" 

"Yeah," you said, "for Eddie and Cole." 

The boys waved at your husband from the kitchen counter. He gives a lustless wave back and trudges upstairs in his under things. You tip the boys with the rest of the cookies in an old dish and send them on their way home. 

You open your bedroom door to find Ralph butt ass naked and on his knees looking for something. 

"We should do this more often," you tease. 

Ralph looks up and raises an eyebrow at you then notices the position he's put himself in. "Now's not the time for jokes: do you know where the luffa is?" 

You cross your arms. "Well it's not under the bed…" 

"Helpful." Ralph climbs to his feet and his nose bumps yours. "Where. Is. The luffa." 

"Behind the bathroom door on a hook." 

"Why?" Ralph takes three steps towards the bathroom, then quickly retraces them and this time his forehead collides with you none too gently. "And not saving me a cookie? Uncool." 

"Open your mouth." His eyes go dark for a second and you roll yours. "Do it." 

You plant the last cookie in his mouth and flop onto the bedspread. "Go. Shower. I'll clean up the kitchen." 

The house creaks at night. Sometimes the sounds make the hair on your neck stand on end, but you simply squeeze Ralph and drift back to sleep. In the haze of a dream you think you hear something small and glass break a few rooms over but you can't hold onto your memories for long like this. 

Except tonight there is more than sounds. Beneath the smell of your body wash on Ralph's skin, something tickles the back of your throat. It's acrid and raw pulling you from the fringes of sleep into reality fast. You sniff the air and the scent seems to grow ten times stronger. It's like… it's like… 

You shake Ralph by the shoulder. He doesn't stir an inch. The smell is so strong you're choking on it. You grab Ralph and shake him like a doll until he bursts into wakefulness. 

"What? What?!" 

"Do you smell that?" 

"What?" His eyes are completely unfocused, face pinched in annoyance. 

"It smells like…" you turn on the bedside lamp much to his dismay. "It's like gasoline or something." 

Ralph growls and rubs at his eyes. "Exhaust fumes maybe. Ralph! We have to get up– we have to get out!" 

Somehow you manage to drag him out of bed and down the stairs. The smell gets weaker but it's still there burning in your nostrils like actual fire. Your eyes search frantically for that yellow orange flicker in every room to no avail. It doesn't ease your fear. 

"Come on." You push Ralph outside and the man almost falls off the wrap-around porch. His eyes are glued shut, legs shaking as he stands, and trapped in that sleep state. 

You rack your brain for ideas. Is the car on fire? Should you check the garage? Do you have a working fire extinguisher? There's one in the garage by the door but you doubt it's up to date. 

"Ralph baby please wake up, I need you…" 

You cling to his arm and he manages to crack one eye open. "The fuck is going on?" 

"Something's wrong," you stutter, "I think he's here."

Ralph opened his other eye and looked at you. His head swiveled to and fro over his shoulders, trying to peer out into the dark cover of night to find anyone lurking in the dark. His grip on your arm is tight, almost hurts. He looks back at you, puzzled. 

"Where?" 

You didn't know where, in fact you don't know why you said that. He had no idea where the two of you were. For all you know he might not even be a he at all. You've never met them but you're haunted by them. 

You shake your head and focus on the danger of now. "Fumes. I woke up and it smelled like exhaust fumes in our room." 

"I didn't smell anything," Ralph says. 

You growl. "I did. We need to call someone, we can't go back in the house. What if it's filled with gas and there is an open flame somewhere?" 

Ralph looks around then tries to walk past you towards the door. You catch him with a look of disbelief. 

"Did you not just hear a single word I said?!" 

Ralph sweeps your bruising grip from his arm. He keeps walking but he never breaks eye contact with you. He's definitely awake now. 

"If there's fumes, it's coming from the garage. Lord knows you're not going to let me look knowing that," he says stepping past the threshold into the mud closet next to the kitchen, "so we need to call someone." 

He picks up the phone from its cradle and dials 9-1-1. "Unless you have some secret satelite phone hidden in the barn, I'm all ears on how we call someone…" 

He's right. He's being an asshole about it but he's right. You can smell the fumes as you step in, desperate not to be far from him no matter what happens. Ralph plucks the housecoat from the hook by the door and fits it around your shoulders. You didn't realize you were shivering. 

The sheriff comes out tonight and it's half past 2 am. You and Ralph are waiting outside, a reasonable distance from the house in case an explosion was imminent but it never came. Sheriff Laughton brought a fire team and they searched the house. 

Travis–  as he asked them to call him– asked a few meandering questions. Ralph held your hand and answered as many as he dared, looking to you for the questions you could answer better. They both noticed your thousand yard stare but said nothing. 

Travis came back with the fire team and a long, befuddled face. "They checked over every inch of that house and didn't find anything except a broken lightbulb in the laundry closet." 

Ralphie did not return your gaze, instead he asked. "Nothing at all?" 

Travis scratched his head. "If there was something, it's gone now. I might have your cars looked at just in case, there's a mechanic about 10 miles yonder I can give you directions to." 

Ralph's hand smoothed over your shoulder to try warming you up. "No, no that's OK, I have a mechanic right here." 

You slap his chest for teasing you but your weak smile falls not a moment later. How can that be? They found nothing? Had you imagined the whole thing? But it had felt so real… 

By the time you brought your mind back to the present, you found Ralph had moved you to the kitchen and offered Travis a cup of coffee for his troubles. The fire team was packed up and driving off the property, leaving only the sheriff's cruiser out in that empty night. 

"Ralph," you whispered over the sink. "I think we should call Reagan…" 

"No." 

You blinked. He hadn't even taken a second to consider it, just… dismissed you out of hand like you were an annoyance. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared. 

"If you won't, I will." 

Ralph beat you to the phone and blocked your path, you glimpsed Travis standing awkwardly in the door but paid him no more than a passing thought. 

This was about to get ugly. 

"I. Am not crazy." You keep your voice low but the quiver of anger still seeps through. "I know what I smelled. It was real. If you're not going to ask for help, then fine, but do not stand in my way because of your pride." 

Ralph had that look in his eyes– the dangerous look. "Oh, honey, no… I told you– we are not calling Reagan." 

He kept shaking his head minutely, like it was the only thing keeping him from screaming. "That's final. I mean it, baby. I will lock you in that fucking basement if you touch that phone. I will burn this fucking house down before I let you even look at that dial." 

Your jaw hit the floor but before you could protest, Ralph had your arm in a death grip as he began to drag you out into the hallway. He was probably trying to push you to the bedroom but his out of character threat had rocked you. 

"Let me go," you growled, "Ralph! Stop it!" 

Travis called out to you two and you tried to wipe that innate look of fear from your face. Ralph seemed to snap out of it a bit when he realized you weren't alone and he finally released your arm. It didn't stop him from bending over you until his nose brushed yours and in a growl commanded you to go upstairs. 

Now is not the time to cry. Crying right now feels like weakness. You're not sad– you're fucking furious with him right now. But you're not about to make a bigger scene in front of this cop, so you push past him and head for the stairs. 

The blood racing in your veins is making your face hot and head pound. You can hear Ralph follow you up shortly, likely to continue the argument further but you are beyond listening at this point. You turn just in time to see him look at you funny– why are you mad?-- before slamming the door so hard you hear the wood around the lock almost splinter. 

He doesn't try the door. The light of the hallway goes out and you listen to him sigh as he heads for the couch to sleep on. You throw yourself onto your bed alone and cry into your pillow until exhaustion takes you to a dreamless black sleep.

Tag list: @werwulfy @fundamentally-lazy @escape-your-grape @go-commander-kim @mimiscappinisideblog