#and at some point while writing applications i suddenly realised that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

distracteddegenerate · 3 years

Note

I'm sorry if this annoying but can I please get a little fanfic with the inumaki forget idea ? Sorry if this werd English isn't my first languag

Not annoying at all anon, In fact I really like this idea of yours. (Also your English is pretty good so don’t worry!) Hope you like the fic!

CHARACTERS: Inumaki Toge x Female Reader

WARNINGS: Smut, Dark Content, Noncon, Yandere, Manipulation, Mind Control/ Brain Washing, Cunnilingus

Minors Do Not Interact!

1.5k words

It was comforting, the fluff of ashen white hair that lay on your shoulder, the morning light seeping in from behind the slat blinds cascading a bright shimmer over the expanse of the snowy tufts. The individual strands were dusting your skin feather-light, tickling against you in the sway of every meager intake and exhalation of breath escaping Toge’s mouth.

You had known Toge for years now, and although you couldn’t truly remember how you even came to know him in the first place, he had effortlessly situated himself in the spot of one of your nearest and dearest. You found that his earnest silence brought you solace, words that he could not convey through sentence instead being understood through the knowing glances and expressions you had come to share with one another, the fluency of this mutual language only strengthening with the passage of time.

Now was one of those blissful moments of comfortable, knowing quiet. domestically lounging around your apartment during a day off, lazily giggling at some meme compilation in unison while leaning against one another on the settee. You couldn’t think of a better way to spend your time, this cozy sphere of amenity that you had constructed with Toge an apt repose from the outside world.

Whilst you were lost reflecting on your rosy blessings, you were suddenly brought back to reality when you felt the weight of toge’s head lift from your shoulder, turning to meet the familiar gaze of inquisitive violet eyes peering at you from behind off-white tresses.

“Are you okay, Toge?”

“Mustard Leaf.”

The response, that usually implied he was doing fine in the small dictionary of onigiri vocabulary he had come to employ.. Didn't feel genuine, to say the least. His irises were blown wide, registering your countenance as though he was trying to gleen some hidden information from your inquiring squint, when Toge began to lean further over you. You turned the front of your body to look at him directly, though you were steadily inclining your spine backwards in your perplexion at Toge’s unusual advancement.

He soon had draped his entire upper body over yours, hands reaching around your frame to press into the sofa to support himself as his face drew dangerously close to yours.

“Toge?” A heat was rising in your upper body. Sure, you and Toge were incredibly close friends.. But this was a little too much for your liking. You pressed your palms against the jut of his shoulders and pushed slightly, though with no true force. Blushing, you faced away from him, trying to announce your discomfort at his invasive approach. “T-toge.. This is a bit too-”

“Don’t move.”

And sure enough, compelled by some otherworldly force to entertain the command, you had stopped moving in your tracks. It didn’t take long for you to figure Toge had used his technique. Like a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car, your body froze statuesque while conflicting eyes beamed alive, frantically searching for the reasoning behind the cruel fate that was racing towards you.

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach at the sight of his lips pulled tight, his usually bright irises murky with shadows of deception. Something awful was afoot. His deadpan look in conjunction with the preceding events told you this was no prank, swiftly realising that your trust in him had been irredeemably breached to the point of fear at what was coming next. Your body twitched as you strained under the spell that had been cast on you, helpless to the plummeting feeling of the safe structure of friendship you had built with Toge coming crumbling down around you.

Your fears were proven genuine when Toge’s hand began reaching forward, coming to rest on the curve of your hip. You tried to communicate with your eyes, begging for him to stop and to just think about what he was doing, but he paid no heed to it. In fact it seemed like he was ignoring your glare, focused on the task that lay at his palms. He began deftly inching your bottoms down over your pelvis, panties and all coming to a halt over your thighs, just above your kneecaps.

It was then that he shot you a glance of what seemed like sorrowfulness, as if he was fully aware he was enacting something cruel but thought it necessary. Perhaps like how a farmer would look at lame animal before putting it to rest.

Still, you were broken away from the horrid thoughts and back into a harsher reality when Toge had begun ripping the aforementioned cloth even further down your legs until they reached your calves. Shoving his hands between your thighs, the pads of his fingers pressed forcefully against the flesh and separated the limbs till they spread wide. You were completely exposed, the open air cutting a chill against your privates.

He traced his fingertips over your slit, with whatever wet, however slight gathered up in it’s trailing wake. He looked you in your eyes when he brought the digits to your clit, as if looking for a reaction when he began grinding his forefingers against the sensitive nub. Unable to do so much as flinch away from the offensive touch, you mentally grit your teeth as you felt that aching bundle of nerves scream against the assault. It felt painful, at first. You were so unprepared for the sudden encroachment on your most sensitive parts, It made you want to recoil in on yourself completely, though there was nought you could do in protest.

Toge began occasionally lowering his fingers to reach directly into your core, drawing out the little slick you were producing to mercifully rub it over your clit. The lubrication meant his ministrations were less painfully direct, his motions transforming into a light flutter that felt traitorously gratifying, an unwarranted heat beginning to pool in your stomach. Your body was disobediently reacting to his touches with craving, and it made you want to hide away forever but unfortunately you were rendered completely unable to escape the explicit display you were being forced to partake in.

You felt his warm breath exhale humid air over your cunt, when you noticed from your frozen position that you couldn’t see Toge’s face any more, only the top of his alpine locks as he lowered himself further over your pulsing heat.

You knew what was coming, but you still inwardly lurched with shock at the swiping of that lithe muscle over your aching bundle. The feeling made you throb with hypersensitivity, the combination of the attention that area had received earlier now with the sudden sensation of Toge’s wet mouth lapping at you desperately causing your entire pussy to twitch around his tongue in a chase for release.

Dragging and dipping his emblazoned tongue over and between your sopping folds, he came to plant his mouth directly over your clit. He sucked over it with such vigor his cheeks completely hollowed, rolling your nub between his lips whilst deft fingers aided in your pleasure as he continued to pump them in and out of the sticky apex of your crotch.

He worked at you for some time, steady in the intensity of his applications. It wasn’t long before the sensations grew too much, pussy clenching around his fingers as you reached a climax, flood gates swinging open as you gushed helplessly over his face.

He stayed where he was for a second, before rising. When his pale face came into view, you took in the sight of your own slick washing trails down his chin, the purple tattoos it overlay on his cheek glistening prismatic in the light the sun cast over it. He looked wild, salivating at the maw, sparkling amethysts settling an intense gaze into your own eyes which were vacantly still trying to work through the thralls of your orgasm.

Yet, fear sparked them alert with dread when you saw his mouth drop open to speak once again.

“Forget.”

Even in that split second of recognition you had before your memories had been erased for (unbeknownst to you,) the umpteenth time, it was enough for an intensely visceral stream of consciousness to flood your thoughts. You realised intuitively Toge was never really the person you thought he was, and you wondered how many times you had been used like this. How much had happened, how much had you been subject to by his cursed technique. Just how much was real in that domestic setting that you had been experiencing before it all came crashing down like this.

***

If only you knew just how much of your true self had slipped away. With your hands wrapped around his cock once more, The sunset and rise beginning to melt away at the edges into a haze of warm gradients was just a pretty sight to you, the concept of time becoming irrelevant to you as you settled into your life as an ignorant hostage.

Extra Notes:

Yeah so this kinda became a fucked up version of 50 first dates.. although now that I think about it I guess 50 first dates is pretty fucked up? Also god writing a character who hardly speaks is so hard in fic format;; I guess enjoy the challenge though

#inumaki x reader #inumaki #yandere inumaki #dark jjk #jjk #noncon tw #dubcon tw #yandere tw #manipulation tw #mind control tw #brain washing tw #smut #dark content

725 notes · View notes

cafeacademia · 3 years

Text

His Favourite Gal | Part 1

Mob!Bucky x Shy!Reader

Summary: You begin working as a waitress at Bucky Barnes’ favourite club in town. Little do you realise that working on mob territory owned by the infamous King of New York, Bucky Barnes, comes with its quirks and you’re slowly pulled into the mobster life.

Warnings: Fluff, some mentions of drunk people, mentions of crimes (though nothing happens, it’s just mentioned).

Word count: Approx 3700

Navigation

A/N: Hi loves!! This is a remaster of my own original fan fiction that I’ve decided to take from my old blog and (hopefully) improve. I’ve been slowly remastering fics that I am particularly attached to and I worked quite a lot to get this one overhauled and rewritten!! There’s actually very little of the original writing left, it was interesting to see how different my style is now compared to three years ago! This was also my first ever series I’d ever written on my old blog, so aside from the fact that I love the story, it’s special to me in that regard. Enjoy! 💕

If you’d like to join my taglist, you can do so using my taglist form HERE

It was raining when you finally finished your shift three hours later than when you were supposed to be off for the night. It was tiring working for the dingy old bar, it looked just as sad on the outside as it did on the inside, the old brick discoloured, old panelling slowly peeling off the sides of the building. It was a wreck and so was your boss too. He couldn’t have cared less if you worked yourself down to the bone, as long as he had staff doing a job, he didn’t care.

“I’m expecting you tomorrow, we’re opening early.” He had told you on your way out and it took everything in your willpower not to groan and roll your eyes and tell him so eloquently to fuck off. It was almost a relief when you heard the heavy metal door slam behind you as you stepped out of the back entrance. The air was just as bad. It was thick with smog and cigarette smoke and something pungent, an overflowing bin or perhaps an unfortunate street animal, you thought.

You were glad when it began to rain harder. At least it seemed to make most of the drunkards along the main strip try to find shelter instead of bothering you on your walk home.

Pulling your jacket hood up, you stepped down from the doorway and made your way out of the alleyway and onto the back street. It was never good to walk home alone, especially at night and especially in the part of New York you lived and worked in. It was on the edge of mobster territory and while Bucky Barnes, the King of New York owned it, it didn’t mean it was safe at all. It was quite the opposite, the district was prone to all levels of crime, from pickpocketing all the way up to armed robberies, arson and shootings.

But, you realised as you walked up the street, spotting a group of drunk men up ahead, drink men with rifles too, that never ended well, that perhaps mobster territory might not be a bad idea, especially when there were people working for Barnes along the entire street and they were known to keep the peace.

You heard the casino before you saw it, but as you rounded the corner you saw the lights, the late night rain distorting some of the huge party lights that lit up the sky above the building. Stark’s was not the most prestigious club in town, but it was the most respected and most feared. And funnily enough, for a place called Stark’s, the billionaire did not own his own named club. As far as you remembered, you’d seen it in the papers a few years ago that Barnes had won it off Stark in a game of poker. You’d never know if that was really true, but it definitely seemed plausible.

As you passed the casino, you glanced over towards the dark tinted windows, watching as people came and went, mostly men in suits. But you noticed a sign from across the road that was taped onto one of the windows, huge bold letters making you stop in your tracks for a moment.

Waiting staff needed. And you stared at it for a moment, contemplating. You… A bar waitress, surely it was not wise for you to sign up to work in mobster territory. That would definitely land you in more dangerous places than you were already in.

But the longer you stood there and thought about it, you began to wonder if it was actually a good idea. You could at least try, what did you have to lose? And before you could even come to a full decision, it was as it was made for you, because a group of rowdy men walked towards you and you immediately took the decision to cross the road, putting you right in front of the casino.

How bad could it be? The worst that could happen was that you just had to return back around the corner to your miserable little bar job. So, with a sigh, you grabbed the flyer and walked towards the entrance.

The bouncer was huge and intimidating. Of course, you had expected as much with the club having the notoriety that it did. It wasn’t long before you were allowed to enter, the bouncer telling you, “speak to Natasha at the bar”, and as you headed through into the casino, you assumed the absolutely stunning woman behind the bar right ahead of you was Natasha.

The club was bustling with people, though it was not as stuffy and loud on the inside as you had expected it to be. There was a clear divide between people dining and drinking at tables around the bar and the casino side of the club which appeared to be behind a velvet rope and deep burgundy red curtains at either side of the bar. It was far more high end than you had expected, seeing as the outside of Stark’s resembled a kind of fancy nightclub, but you supposed the King of New York did happen to own it.

“Are you here about the job?” The woman at the bar asked as you approached her. You wondered if it was your very casual clothing in such a formal setting that gave you away or the flyer in your hand. Either way, you suddenly felt very intimidated and very underprepared. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. You were a girl dressed in the dregs of your wardrobe while trying to get a job in the most respected club in the entire city. Not likely.

“I saw the advertisement outside, I hope that’s alright.” You said as you lifted the flyer in your hand and she held out her hand to take it from you. “Are you sure? We haven’t had many applicants because of certain activities.” She told you, but you knew what she meant, it was obvious. This part of town, even outside of mobster territory was swimming in crime. “I’ve got nothing to lose.” You replied. And it was true, you did have nothing to lose. No family, no responsibilities outside of your current job, which this would replace, no children, no pets, no side hustles. Nothing. And that probably made you a good candidate.

The woman smiled at you, her lips curving up into a smirk as she took a moment to look you over before she extended her hand across the counter. “Natasha.” She introduced herself, smiling as you shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” You mirrored her smile and gave her your name before she let go of you. “Let me just get someone on the bar and we’ll talk.” She told you.

And moments later, you were following Natasha through the casino, passing by all of the business men, mafia family members and rich men and women who were chancing it at gambling games. Suffice to say, you felt even more out of place than you had done just moments beforehand.

“Where do you work right now?” Natasha asked as she let you pass her into an office near the back of the building. “I work in an old bar just around the corner called The Rabid Dog.” It was not a pleasant name, it always made you cringe whenever you had to tell people where you worked and you didn’t fail to notice the way that Natasha seemed amused by the name of the bar too.

“So you’ve done bar work? What about waitressing?” She asked as she gestured for you to sit down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Natasha didn’t sit behind the desk, instead she just dropped down into the chair next to yours and rested one leg over the other as if she was having a casual conversation with a friend. “My bar serves food, so I do it on a regular basis and I also used to work in a restaurant a few years ago.” You explained, but before either of you could say anything else, the door swung open and you nearly fell out of your chair.

“Who’s this?” Bucky Barnes, the King of New York himself asked as he walked through the doorway. What had you walked into? You knew he owned the club, but you’d never expected to actually meet Barnes. “This is our new waitress.” Natasha said proudly as she stood. You knew better than to interrupt, but you gathered that someone must have noticed the look of confusion on your face because just as a second man entered the room, he said, “Does our new waitress know she’s the new waitress?” The second man asked. He was blonde, just as tall and muscular as Barnes, though he looked at you with less of a poker face and more of an amused smirk.

“Really? You just hired her like that?” Mr Barnes asked as he approached you. “I like her.” Natasha countered, both men giving her pointed looks, though Mr Barnes raised his brows and nodded before turning back towards you. “She likes you.” He repeated what Natasha had said. You couldn’t help but send Natasha a questioning glance. She had just met you minutes ago and she’d already analysed you enough to know that she liked you and you wondered if Natasha was much more than just a bar girl.

“Have you done waitressing before?” Barnes asked. “I just asked her that.” Natasha huffed. “Yes sir, waitressing and bar work.” You responded. “And do you have any family?” He asked next. “No sir, none at all.” You replied. “And you know this isn’t the type of job cut out for ordinary people, right? This club sees a lot of things.” Mr Barnes went on. “I do, sir.” You nodded.

“Buck, maybe we should consider-.” But Mr Barnes casually held up his hand to silence his friend. “You’re hired.” He announced, the entire room falling silent and all you could do was stare at Barnes for a moment, stunned that he had just hired you right there on the spot. “I am?” It came out a little more hushed than you had intended, Bucky nodding as he smirked at you. “Whatever your pay is at your old job, I’ll pay at least double, more if it’s not enough. Natasha will contact your old boss and get you ready for your first day.” And with that, Bucky Barnes and his friend left the room and Natasha looked over at you, watching as the astonishment slowly dissipated.

“I’ll let you know when you start work.” Natasha broke the silence and you glanced over at her. “Just like that?” You asked, still surprised. “Just like that.” She responded. “Don’t worry, Barnes wouldn’t keep me around if I wasn’t a good judge of character.” She winked at you and you wondered again if she was something more than just a bar girl.

The job, you realised after your first couple of days working at the club, was far more interesting and a lot more rewarding than your previous job at the old bar. The club was a scene for all kinds of happenings and while nothing nefarious really went on, especially under Bucky Barnes’ nose, you did overhear an awful lot of conversation.

You learned as well in those first few days, that while this was not where Mr Barnes resided, he used the club as a place to carry out some of his business meetings and discussions as well as a place to relax.

Barely a week into your new job, you were getting ready for your shift in the little back room. Lockers lined the walls with a mirror at the side of the door and comfortable benches in the middle of the room. Dressed in a simple, but pretty black dress, you tied the strings of your little demi apron at the back, though you paused, a little startled when the door was abruptly pushed open and Natasha stepped in.

“Barnes needs you.” Nat announced with urgency and you frowned at her. “He does?” You asked. “He needs someone to waitress him and the family tonight, he’s asking for you.” She informed you. “I thought-.” “Yes, I know normally we have security taking orders to the waitresses, but he’s personally asking for you to waitress them tonight.” Nat told you and you paused with a slight air of confusion about you. “Alright, I’ll waitress Mr Barnes then.” You nodded, quickly fumbling with the ties of your apron before you shoved your jacket a bit more firmly into the back of the locker and shut it properly, letting Natasha walk you through the club towards the private dining space they were occupying.

Nat rushed you into the room and closed the door behind you, leaving you to stand rather flustered in front of a cosy looking dining room with a round table in the middle. Bucky was sat at the furthest end of the room, his chair seeming to have a higher back than all of the others. At his left was Steve, who you’d been properly introduced to on your first day at work and on his right was Sam Wilson, who you understood was a very close friend of his.

“Sugar, you made it.” Bucky enthusiastically greeted you as you approached the table. You hoped that you didn’t appear too flustered and intimidated, but you were aware that there was only so much you could play off with smiles when you knew your eyes might give you away. “Good evening Mr Barnes, gentleman.” You nodded, finally taking a step into the room and approaching the table, receiving polite hellos and smiles from all of them. “Are you looking after us tonight?” Steve asked, sitting forward in his seat and casually leaning his elbows on the table. “I am, Mr Rogers.” You nodded, lifting your notepad and pen as if it were proof. “Allow me to introduce you to everyone.” Bucky waved you over to him and you took a few steps towards him as he went around the table naming everyone. It was quite easy to distinguish that the people sitting closest to Bucky were of more importance to him as he listed Clint and Scott, who seemed to be his security and Pietro who appeared at first glance to be a mentee as well as the rest of the group.

“C’mere sweetheart.” Bucky motioned you to come and stand next to him once they were all done ordering food and drink. You stood where he’d pointed to and he turned in his seat to face you. You felt your cheeks warm intensely as Bucky smiled up at you, his eyes so soft and sweet and you questioned for a moment how exactly this man was the King of New York. He was incredibly sweet looking and for a moment you found yourself melting on the spot. “Is that everything, Mr Barnes?” You asked. “Not quite, sugar. Add whatever you’re having to the list, it’s on me.” He grinned at you. “I – uh, sorry?” You asked, a little confused. “Are you sure, Mr Barnes?” You hesitantly met his eyes though you immediately broke eye contact. “Absolutely, please eat with us, doll.” Bucky’s voice went soft as he tilted his head back a little to see you better, his lips pouting ever so slightly. “As you wish, Mr Barnes. Thank you.” You smiled at him, speaking softly before jotting your meal on the notepad and rushing out of the room.

You nearly bumped into Natasha as you made your way towards the kitchen. “He wants me to eat with them.” You blurted out before even making your presence known. “He what?” Nat frowned. “Mr Barnes wants me to order my food and drink and eat with them.” You repeated, more calmly this time. “Really?” She looked at you wide eyed. “Does he not do that with other waitresses?” You questioned, ripping the order out of the notepad and handing it to the kitchen staff. “No, he’s never done that before, never requested it either.” Nat shook her head. “Are you sure?” You surely couldn’t be the only one he’s ever asked. “I’ve worked here every night for three years and not once has he ever requested that.” Nat said with a single raised brow. It was definitely unusual. “I’ll get someone to call for you when the food’s ready. Let me get their drinks together.” She told you, waving you away before she went to look at the order you’d brought in.

You waltzed into the private dining room with a large round tray balanced expertly on one hand. The glasses on top gently clinked together as you walked. Handing out their orders, you took your drink last. You noticed quickly that all the men around the table had shifted and there was now an empty seat next to Bucky. “Come and sit with me, doll.” He patted the empty chair. Steve hopped up to pull it out for you and you obliged, gently sitting yourself down in the chair and turning slightly to face him. You didn’t want to assume you could speak unless spoken to, so you politely kept quiet while Bucky noticeably studied your face. “Tell us about yourself, sweetheart.” He smiled, sitting back in his chair as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

“I’ve been around and lived in a few different places. My parents passed several years ago and it’s just been me ever since, so I moved back to Brooklyn.” You did appreciate the soft look on Bucky’s face as he listened to what you said, almost like he felt sorry for you. Before you could continue though, Bucky rested his hand over yours and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry about your parents, truly I am.” He spoke just above a whisper. “Thank you, Mr Barnes.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Call me Bucky. We’re with family, which means we’re all on a first name basis, alright?” Bucky gripped your hand gently. “Alright, Bucky.” You nodded, mirroring his smile.

You told him more about yourself and for a moment, Bucky seemed anything but a mobster. He asked you about the books you liked to read and talked to you about the subjects that seemed to make your eyes light up and your smile a little wider. As the evening drew on, you became comfortable enough to share a few timid little jokes, which elicited chuckles and laughs from even some of the most scary looking men around the table. One of them, Drax, who was terrifyingly huge and angry looking, clapped his hand over his chest and roared with laughter the first time you told a joke, which completely took you by surprise. What surprised you more was how easy it was to make Bucky laugh and how down to earth and sweet he was.

By the time everyone had eaten and spent some time drinking and chatting and enjoying themselves, you had warmed up to all of them, especially Steve, Sam and Bucky. All of them though, were soft and charming on the inside, showing you a side to them you were unsure anyone else in the club was ever going to see. They were intimidating on the outside, exuding a terrifying confidence, but on the inside they were all sweet and gentle and caring and it absolutely melted you.

And after you had said goodbye to all of them and made your way back to the locker room, Clint, one of Bucky’s closer family members, followed you in. “Barnes wants me and Scott to make sure you get home safe.” He told you. “He’s requesting we give you a lift back in his SUV.” Clint added, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his middle. It definitely seemed unusual, especially to be personally driven home. As far as you were aware, not even Natasha, who seemed very close to the family was ever given a lift home. But then again, judging by her reaction to Bucky wanting you to dine with them earlier, you supposed this was all rather new for them, just as much as it was for you. “Alright.” You nodded as you opened your locker, pulling off your apron and putting it away before you took out your jacket and bag, quickly getting them both on before letting Clint escort your towards the back exit.

“Hey doll, hope you don’t mind the spontaneous ride home.” Bucky grinned, far too pleased with himself that he was having his men not only drive him, Steve and Sam home, but also you. Of course it meant he had a longer way home, but Bucky didn’t care. Seeing you all off to your houses was important to him and why seeing you off specifically was important, Bucky was starting to wonder why.

After sliding into the SUV and getting comfortable on the soft, plush seats, you were driven home with gentle, quiet chatter between Bucky and Sam, Steve joining in occasionally until you arrived at your apartment building.

“See you the day after tomorrow, sugar.” Bucky smiled, leaning towards the open door to speak to you as you got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride home.” You waved at all of the men in the car, Scott getting out to escort you up to the front door of the building, the car waiting until they had seen you safely into the building and the door shut behind you.

Sitting down in your bedroom, safely back in your apartment you laid down in the soft blankets, replaying the evening in your head, realising you were smiling to yourself when you remembered that Nat had said no one had ever been asked to dine with Bucky and his family before. It brought warmth to your cheeks as you settled in for the night, looking forward to your next shift at Stark’s.

Bucky Taglist (OPEN):

@losers-official @barneswidow @megantje123 @anchoeritic @struggling-bee

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #marvel #marvel fanfic series

552 notes · View notes

juyeoniemyhoney · 3 years

Text

nothing ever goes the way you want it to.

In this episode of disasters you could have avoided if you were not a liar: every time you look at Juyeon, you start sweating and your heart starts beating like you're a criminal in an interrogation. This was supposed to be strictly business. But of course, nothing ever goes the way you want it to and it truly shows after today's events.

-pairing: lee juyeon x reader

-genre: fluff, at this point it's slow burn i am so sorry

-warnings: some foul language, you lowkey watch juyeon while he sleeps (in the least creepy way possible), the only medical knowledge i have is from grey's anatomy and hospital ship

-word count: 5546 words

-A/N: i like lowkey fell off the face of the earth, i know. but it's ok!!!! because im back now!! (kinda). i'm having exams now and i'm really busy studying and finishing applications for school and other things so if i like don't update until like november, i'm really sorry. but for now, i really hope you enjoy this mess because honestly i don't know where this series is going:D

read other parts of rent a boyfie -> here!

--------

Time has always been a little iffy to you. When you want it to go by fast, it goes by excruciatingly slow. And when you want it to go by slowly, it goes by at the speed of light. It conforms to nothing and just goes on and on forever on its own accord. And that is probably the most infuriating thing about it. This rings especially true as you periodically, obsessively take glances at the wall clock in front of you in between each word you write.

After you and Juyeon said your goodbyes, your shift had started off like any other normal day. Albeit, you were a little curious as to whom Juyeon was visiting and had thought and wondered about it for the first few hours of your shift, everything else was normal. You did your rounds, updated patient records, sat in and even took part in surgeries, took notes and studied and slept as much as you could in your downtime and went to check in on your patients multiple times.

It felt normal until an hour before your shift ended.

That's when things started to feel a little bit like a fever dream.

For one, when the clock struck three in the morning, you came to terms with the fact that you would not be able to sleep at all. In the past three hours, you had tried relentlessly, but was awoken each time by the incessant beeping of your pager.

Then, at about five, as you stared holes into your textbook, you realised that in about twelve hours, Juyeon and your mother would be in your apartment. Somewhere at the start of your shift, your mother had texted you saying that she would reach your apartment at about five in the evening. And at four, Juyeon had sent you a text asking for your address. You ignored both messages in hopes that you were just dreaming. And to a certain extent, it worked. But at five, as you were tackling the many different symptoms of various diseases, you were suddenly struck with the realisation that this wasn't a dream. They would be in your house at five, your mother gleefully unpacking food she'd brought from her house, Juyeon sitting at the other side (or possibly next to you) at your dinner table, holding conversations with your mother and with you. And this time, you don't have your siblings there to carry the conversation so that you can tune your hearing out.

You don't even know why you are so upset about it. You're not usually quite this uptight. You suppose it is just because you don't want Juyeon in your house. It feels much too intimate. Your flat is not quite as decorated as you want it to be because you just don't have the time to set anything up other than the necessary furniture. In fact, you think it looks exactly the same as when you first got it six years ago. But you shower there. And sleep there most of the time. And on your days off, you sit on the couch and watch shows. And you eat at that dining table almost every day. And you just know that Juyeon being there, in that domestic setting of your life when your feelings are already making you so confused, is only going to confuse you more.

Then, it was an hour before your shift ended. And you were beyond exhausted. You hadn't slept a wink but you were finishing your reports on patients in the wards and clinics for the next doctor on shift, making notes for them and writing down reminders for them to take care of. You would think that after a few months of this vicious cycle, you would have gotten used to the brutality of it, that your body would accommodate and learn that this should be normal by now. But with everything that is happening, your mother, your fake relationship, your growing pile of lies, and Juyeon, it felt like you hadn't slept in forever. But you persisted on.

So now, about ten minutes before your shift ends, you are itching to get off; to go home, take a long, warm shower and sleep off your worries until the doorbell rings and you have to face your mother and fake boyfriend once again. You are so close to your freedom, you can almost taste it. Until the PA system sounds and your pager beeps with insistent urgency. You almost groan when you read the two dreaded words, the calm voice of a nurse narrating it out for you in case you thought you read your pager wrongly.

"Attention all doctors and nurses, code blue in ward 42, bed 4. I repeat code blue in ward 42, bed 4."

Though you are utterly dreading it, though all you want to do is go home and sleep for the next forty-eight hours, you are sprinting in the direction of the bed before the announcement can even finish, running as fast as you can because a life depends on it. After all, this is your job and you are supposed to save people despite yourself.

By the time the patient was resuscitated (and thank god he was), your shift had ended half an hour ago. And by the time you finish updating the records and keeping the other doctors and nurses updated and well informed about him and other patients, it is nearing eleven in the morning and it has been two hours after your shift was supposed to end.

As you make your way to your locker to get your things and change out of your scrubs and coat, doctors and nurses who look significantly more well-rested than you send you waves and bright, energetic smiles, wishing you a safe trip home and a well rest. You try your best to be polite and to not let your pure exhaustion shine through, but by the time the fifth person greets you, the most you can manage is a weak smile as you hastily slip into the locker room, changing and gathering your things within five minutes before you are rushing out of the hospital like it is a haunted house and you have been thoroughly traumatised.

You are almost running out the front doors when someone calls your name, stopping you in your tracks. You let out a disgruntled grunt, grumpy and sleep-deprived and already robbed of two hours of your free time, as you turn around to face the nurse who called you. Her name is Stacy and she's relatively new to your hospital. You are by no means her boss and have almost zero authority here, being about halfway through your intern year. But you definitely did come here before her, making you her senior. And as her senior, you are easily ready to blow her head off with an unwarranted scolding because she is disturbing you right now and you will have none of it whatsoever.

"Stacy, please, if you have a question please ask the doctors who have just clocked in. I just clocked out and I really don't want to entertain you," you say with a sigh, wholeheartedly wanting to scold her, but not having it in you when you know that she does not deserve it. Stacy is nice, she's relatively easy to talk to and she listens and follows instructions well. You don't really want to come off as the asshole just because she caught you at a bad timing.

"Oh, no, Dr Y/N, I don't have a question. It's just that, that man over there," she pauses to gesture to the man sitting at the bench with his back turned to the two of you, his head hung as if he were sleeping. You get a weird feeling in your gut when he looks familiar to you. "he's been waiting for you for two hours.".

"What?" you wonder out loud, brain completely unable to register anything due to your lack of sleep and the sheer lethargy that is beginning to kick in, after all, you should be asleep by now.

You thank Stacy for letting you know and apologise for being so rude, bidding her farewell before you approach the man, taking cautious, tentative steps towards him, all the while wondering who he is. And then when his face finally comes into view, it hits you like a brick to the face.

"Juyeon?" you ask, gently and hesitantly shaking him awake. He wakes easily, eyelids lifting and eyelashes untangling as he takes a while to realise what is happening before he looks up to meet your gaze, eyes heavy-lidded and hazy as he struggles to pull free from his daze. Then, the corners of his lips tilt up upon recognition, slinging into a lazy smile as he gets up from his seat, causing you to stumble backwards and away from him as he draws to his full height.

"Hi Y/N," he greets you. "Good morning. No offence, but, you look like you haven't slept in ten years," he comments as he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks away, expecting you to follow suit as he makes his way to the exit of the hospital. You follow him, though you are beyond confused as to why he is here.

"Wait, why are you here?" you ask him, ignoring his previous statement as you grab his elbow to ask him to slow down. To your surprise, he understands your request before you have time to verbalise it, his pace slowing down as he takes smaller steps, falling into step beside you.

"I came to pick you up," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, glancing down at you through the corner of his eyes, eyebrows slightly raised in amusement.

"But I didn't tell you what time I end," you say, glancing up to him as the two of you walk through the automatic doors, the early winter wind blowing your hair out of your face and forcing a shiver down your spine as the two of you cross the carpark to Juyeon's car.

"I realised that because I dropped you off, you wouldn't have a car. And I have a friend who works in this hospital and he told me that interns usually have fourteen-hour shifts. So I came. Either way, I had a delivery to make so," Juyeon explains in a lazy drawl, not quite annunciating his words properly, almost like he is too tired to.

"You didn't have to," you murmur. You feel your neck heat up under the collar of your coat, utterly embarrassed and exasperated that Juyeon was this thoughtful.

"It's the least I could do after how badly I messed up yesterday," he says with a grimace as he unlocks the car with keys. "And it seems that it was a good decision on my part. You haven't slept at all, have you?"

The conversation halts as the two of you slide yourselves into the leather seats of his car, Juyeon turning on the engine and turning up the heater as you buckle your seatbelt in silence.

"You can sleep if you want. Just tell me your address first," Juyeon says when you don't answer his question. You do so without a single argument, allowing Juyeon to enter your address into the sat-nav before closing your eyes and slouching in your seat, allowing the silence and the soft humming of the car to gently rock you to sleep.

The way you are so comfortable around Juyeon slightly scares you. Every time you feel comfortable around him, you are reminded of the very real fact that you have known him all of four days. And that only terrifies you more. You are trusting him to take you home safely as you sleep in his car, not even doubting his intentions for a second. You suppose you can trust him, after all, you accidentally fell asleep last evening and he had safely delivered you to your job. But before you fall asleep for the second time in his car, you wonder if this is what your sister had meant when she first told you about her husband.

If this is an otherworldly connection.

She told you that there's a Japanese myth where there are two people connected by an invisible red string and that these two people are soulmates. Whenever they got too far away from each other, the red string would always bring them back together. They are connected by their hearts and by fate itself, meeting by great happenstance, or realising the sheer level of their connection by a serendipitous epiphany.

But before you can consider how you feel about Juyeon, or just how connected you think the two of you are, you are falling into a deep sleep, allowing your dreams to take over.

When you wake up, it is because Juyeon calls your name softly with gentle jostles to your shoulders. For a second, in your sleepy daze, you have a bout of deja vu, remembering that this exact moment had occurred less than a day ago. But when you come about your senses, your eyes open as much as your exhausted eyelids allow you to, bloodshot and stinging with its stubborn want to just shut close again as you sit upright in your seat and clear your gravelly throat, running a hand through your day-old hair. You look out past the dashboard and recognise that you are parked in the familiar carpark of your flat complex as Juyeon switches off the engine and shuts the sun visor close before turning back to you with a small smile.

"Good morning," he smiles, eyes curling up in humour. You grunt back in response and his smile only widens. "Come on, let's go up. Then, you can sleep in your bed.".

Suddenly, you are wide awake.

"Why are you coming up with me?" you ask, eyes narrowing in suspicion as you lean away from him and into the door, as if you are afraid he is going to do something to you. For some odd reason, though you don't know much about Juyeon, you know that he will certainly not lay a finger on you.

"Well, I thought you'd need help preparing or something. Like backstories or with cleaning, or anything else. But if you're uncomfortable with that then I won't come up and we can just discuss it here! I'd just thought you'd want to sleep for a bit before we discuss more important things, you know? So that, uh, you know what you're saying and we're on the same page and you're not too tired or anything. So, yeah. Only if you're okay with it, though. If not I'm totally fine," Juyeon stutters out in a panicked rant, totally forgetting that the two of you barely know each other. It's just that, he's felt so comfortable with you so far, like you were long friends, and he'd just assumed you'd felt the same. Like a fool.

Your lips tilt up ever so slightly with fondness, finding the way he'd panicked uncannily endearing. He's so thoughtful, you think. And he's always made you feel comfortable in your limited interactions. Your little angel on your right shoulder thinks you're too easy, thinks you're so easily won over by benevolence and pretty faces, thinks you trust too easily. And you suppose it's right. Because you don't even have to think, you don't even have to listen to the devil on your left shoulder urging you on, before you are shaking your head and saying with a small smile,

"I'm fine with you coming up.".

"Oh," Juyeon says with slight relief that's he's not made everything more awkward than it already is. "I'm sorry for not asking first.".

"It's perfectly fine," you respond with an awkward smile, looking away after making brief eye contact with Juyeon. Now that you are slightly rested, you realise that Juyeon is dressed in a casual hoodie, a coat and jeans, his hair messily strewn across his forehead. He looks handsome, much more so than last evening.

Silently, the two of you exit the car and make your way back to your house, Juyeon trailing behind you and the both of you standing at opposite ends of the elevator on the way up. Juyeon waits patiently for you to enter your passcode into your lock, hands clasped behind his back as he adverts his eyes and pretends to be interested in the view of the sky from the corridor. And then, you open the door and quietly welcome him in, the both of you ridding your feet of your shoes at the entrance before you are emerging from the entranceway and into your living room with Juyeon's tall figure lingering tentatively behind you.

"It's a little messy, but please make yourself at home," you comment as you set down your bag on a dining chair, uncomfortable with Juyeon's silence. You refuse to look at him. Up until now, you could only imagine what it would look and feel like with him in your house. But now that he is actually in your house, you don't think you'll ever be able to rid your mind of the image; his tall frame towering over the dining table and the kitchen sink, him sinking comfortably into the couch, the sight of his broad shoulders as he wanders around with curiosity, peeping into the dimly lit corridor that leads to your bedroom and the toilet.

Silence ensues and the only thing that can be heard is the soft breaths coming from between both of your lips, and the shuffling of clothes brushing against each other. Juyeon stands awkwardly in the middle of your living room and suddenly, your previously normal-sized furniture is dwarfed by his sheer height and size. Your thoughts are too loud and you desperately try to think of something to get rid of this ear-piercing silence.

"I'll give you a tour? Since you're kind of supposed to know your way around my house by now," you suggest, not bothering to look to Juyeon for confirmation before you are slowly making your way down the corridor to your bedroom, stopping at the bathroom and gesturing to the slightly ajar door.

"This is the bathroom," you say, turning around to finally look at Juyeon.

Big mistake.

He leans into you to peek into the bathroom, hand resting on the door frame as his eyes glint with curiosity. When you turn to look at him, your gaze meets his cotton-clad chest first and then his intoxicating scent hits your nose and you feel your heart slam itself into your ribcage, causing you to stumble backwards and away from his chest so that his face comes into view.

"And this is my room," you say, walking further down the corridor and to the entrance of your room with a soft clear of your throat, not allowing Juyeon to comment on your bathroom, though you think he doesn't have anything to say anyway.

Your room is quite large so you open the door and lead him all the way in. Your bed lays in the corner, next to the window and just opposite the foot of your bed is your desk, messily littered with loose pieces of paper and thick books. Some articles of clothing litter the floor and you heave a sigh of relief when you see that they are all shirts and shorts.

The first thing that Juyeon notices is that there are so many books. Bookshelves line your cream coloured walls, packed to the brim with paperbacks of every kind and genre, of every colour and thickness. The shelf next to your desk consists solely of textbooks and notebooks, which he just knows is filled with your handwriting, words and theory and equations of all sorts on every line. He notices the lack of decoration, not a single picture or plant or figurine in sight, and he wonders if you'd just recently moved into this house or if you just can't be bothered to make this flat your own when you could so easily move out. He settles on the latter and smiles unconsciously.

"It's cosy," he comments, hands finding home in his pockets again as he smiles tenderly at the back of your head. His smile widens with fondness when you yawn, knuckles trying to rub the lethargy from your eyes as your other hand covers your mouth.

"Why don't you get some rest?" he suggests, turning around to walk out of your room and back to the living room. "I'll go and do some cleaning while you wash up," he continues after a slight pause, turning around to send you a smile before he is closing the door to your bedroom gently, leaving you no room to refuse or argue with him.

When the door shuts and you hear his footsteps get further away, you are left in a silence so loud that you can hear the incessant thudding of your heart against your ribcage and the way your breaths come out heavy. Juyeon is so benevolent, it scares you. It makes you wonder if this is all an act of his because you're sure no one in this world could be quite as kind as he is; if he lures seemingly unsuspecting girls in, makes them fall in love with his irresistible charm before he eventually breaks their heart. You wonder if he is going to do that to you.

When that thought crosses your mind, you know that the exhaustion is causing you to hallucinate. So, with an annoyed huff, you gather your clothes and hop into the shower, washing all the dirt and grime from your pores, all the smell of the hospital and the irony smell of blood away from your body, replacing it with the sweet scent of your peach body wash and shampoo, allowing the warm water to soothe your tired, tense muscles.

By the time you reemerge from the steaming shower, you peek into the living to see Juyeon clearing your messy coffee table, picking up leftover trash you have yet to throw and discarding them for you into the various bins. For a second, you wonder if you should sleep in your bed for today since you have a guest. You haven't slept in your bed much, the couch is much closer to the door and the bathroom than your bed after all. But the thought dissipates easily when you remember that this is your house and you can do whatever you want, really.

So, you drag your feet the short way to the couch, your ankles feeling like they have been shackled to ten-kilogram weights. You ignore Juyeon who seems to be putting utensils and plates away into the sink as you shuffle to your couch. And upon sight, the thought of your couch's comfort drawing you in like a siren song, your body loses its will to hold itself up and you collapse onto the velvet corduroy, dragging the heavy quilt that had been hazardously draped over the back of the couch down with you. You do not bother to arrange the blanket properly as you snuggle into the throw pillows, the feeling warm and comforting.

"Finally," you mutter under your breath as you fall asleep in peace after trudging through what felt like hell itself.

When you wake up it is because of the incessant ringing of something. Whether it is your doorbell or your phone, you have no idea. The only thing you know is that the sound feels as if someone is drilling a million tiny holes into your skull and you want it to stop immediately.

Your eyelashes untangle reluctantly as you force your eyelids open, vision blurry as you will it to focus on the ceiling first before you attempt to look around.

When your vision finally returns, you notice two things.

The first is that your house is inexplicably and bizarrely clean. The dining table that used to be cluttered with takeout menus and unwashed dishes and utensils that now sit on the drying rack, scrubbed to an almost surgical cleanliness, clear. And for the first time in forever, the chairs are neatly tucked in and the rugs on the floor are not upturned nor folded in half, instead aligned neatly against the base of the cupboards. The sight is unnerving and you almost shoot up in surprise, until you feel a weight on your hand.

The second thing that you notice is that Juyeon is nowhere to be seen. But when you feel the weight of another hand on yours, your eyes lazily shift down to look over the edge of the couch, where Juyeon is lying down, fast asleep. Your hand is tucked neatly in his, fingers intertwined and tucked safely against his slow-rising chest, warm and rhythmic.

Juyeon rests surprisingly peacefully though he is on the floor. With his eyes closed and eyelashes casting shadows on the apples of his cheeks, his skin is uncreased, the surface smooth and soft-looking. Juyeon's eyelashes are unbelievably long and you are almost tempted to reach over and brush them with your finger. A lump in your throat forms and you feel your hand in his begin to clam up at the thought.

You've only known him four days. Your relationship is strictly business, nothing more nothing less. You have to know your boundaries.

But right now, boundaries are the least of your concerns. The thing you have to attend to first is the incessant beating of the feeble vessel within your chest. The thudding is so loud you can hear it in your eardrums like it is screaming bloody murder. You want it to stop, you want it to stop, along with the hot blush creeping up your neck, but the more you look at Juyeon's pretty eyelashes, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips, the silkiness of his hair, the more you feel yourself unhinge a little.

Every breath he breathes out, your heart speeds up a little. And you feel yourself become entranced by his unadulterated beauty, like he is casting a spell on you while he is unconscious. And god, you know it is so fucking creepy to be staring at this stranger while he is sleeping, but you just can't seem to pull your eyes away from his face.

You have to thank the heavens that a particular knock (slam) on your door, frightens the absolute shit out of you, pulling you from your trance as you yelp and snatch your hand from Juyeon's grasp, jolting him awake as you fly backwards, back hitting the backing of the couch. Your eyes fly to the door as the distinct voice of your mother yells from the other side of the door, "Y/N! Open the damn door! I've been waiting for twenty minutes for christ's sake!"

At that, your eyes fly to the clock just above the television, and you curse when you see that it reads twenty-seven minutes past five. Beside you on the floor, Juyeon sits up in a daze, still trying to process what is happening. You ignore him and fly from the couch, flinging the blanket from your body. It lands on Juyeon as you scramble to your feet to answer the door, trying to rearrange yourself in your haste to open the door and stop your mother from ripping the door from its hinges like the psychopath she is.

You leap off the couch, not caring to see where you are stepping. And you don't even notice it until Juyeon is letting out a yelp of pain, face cringing as he brings his hand to his foot, where you had so unglamorously stomped on like a baby elephant is throwing a tantrum.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?" he huffs in his gravelly voice, still groggy from being rudely awoken by your mother and you.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" you exclaim in exasperation, pausing briefly to give him an apologetic look before you are racing to the door and flinging it open, desperately begging your mother, "Please stop fucking ringing the doorbell like a madwoman, or the neighbours will complain.".

"Well, it's not my fault you didn't answer the door or your phone for the past twenty—" she pauses to look at her watch, "—eight minutes! You didn't sleep a wink last night, did you?" your mother scolds as she lets herself into your house with bags filled with food that could definitely feed more than three people. At the sound of your mother's voice, Juyeon seems to break free from his daze, shooting up to his feet with his hands clasped together at his front, flashing her a polite, albeit tired smile as she emerges from the hallway.

His clothes are in disarray and his hair is sticking up in all places; anyone could guess that he just woke up from a nap. And your mother is anyone because upon seeing Juyeon, she dumps all her bags onto you in favour of going up to Juyeon to coo at him like he is her own child.

"Juyeon! Aw, did you just wake up? Did I wake you? If I did I'm so sorry," she coos as she squishes his cheeks between her two palms. Keep in mind this absolutely unhinged woman has only known Juyeon for a day. And it shows in the uncomfortable way Juyeon— wait.

Juyeon's smile is bright and blinding and he seems to be in his element as your mother squishes his cheeks and coos at him. He laughs in reciprocation, leaning down to give your mother a hug and a kiss on her cheek. All the while, you stare on in abject horror, the bags of food slipping from your arms due to the sheer weight of them and absolute disgust rolling off your body in waves. You turn around and plop the bags of food on the dining table to avoid their revolting affection for each other. If you didn't know any better you would think that Juyeon is her child instead of you, and her favourite at that.

"Why did you bring so much?" you ask your mother from the dining table, taking box after box of food from the bags and placing them on the table. "It's just the three of us," you mutter under your breath when your mother blatantly ignores you, continuing to talk to Juyeon.

Your mother and Juyeon only join you when you have finished unpacking the food, Juyeon walking to the dining table with a limp. Then, you remember the way you had stomped onto his foot like a titan and cringe in self-loathing.

"You okay?" you ask Juyeon when he stops beside you, hands supporting his upper body as he leans his weight on the dining chair. Your eyes dart down to his foot with a concerned frown before they look back up to his face. He gives you a bright smile and nods, whispering, "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry.".

"It doesn't hurt?" you continue to ask, concern drawing your eyebrows together in a frown. Your hand moves to his elbow, tugging him away from the dining chair by his elbow so that you can take a look at the reddening skin on his foot. Juyeon understands your thoughts and pulls away from the chair, standing up straight and allowing you sight of his foot. He shakes his head no in response to your question as you examine it.

Your mother who was preoccupied with heating up the food and taking plates and utensils notices your interaction and feels her heart swell in her chest, proud that you've finally found someone who softens you down to warm and easy, calm and gentle, unlike your usual uncaring, violent, brutish nature; proud that someone has figured out how to love you despite your uncaring, violent, brutish nature.

Little does she know that you are paying him. Little does she know that everything happening right now, everything that had happened the night before is and was fake. Because you paid Juyeon to lie for you, to put up an act, to pretend. And after your mother leaves your home today, Juyeon will bow and the curtains will fall as spectators arise from their seats in standing ovation. The show will be over. And so will your relationship with Juyeon.

But not even you know the severity of the reason why your heart is thudding quite so thunderously in your chest. Because this may all be fake, this may all be an act but your feelings, the growing weeds in the meadow of your heart are not fake. They are more real than ever and you can feel the pesky little things curl around your heart and tickle the base of your throat. You try to swallow it down as you look at Juyeon, smile sweet and reassuring and good. But your first thought when you look at him is: shit.

147 notes · View notes

uglypastels · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings // roommate!au

(a/n) I’m sorry @duskholland for coming up with these aus. the good thing about it is, that I have no self control so here it is, the New Girl!roommate!au :) i’m not gonna say it’s great, and also i’v seen like 5 episodes of the show maybe so it’s definitely my own take on the pilot. hope you like it.

word count: 6.3k

warning: swearing, sexual references (the first paragraph is as bad as it gets), dark humour and mentions of murder, sex trafficking - basically reasons why not to move in with strangers you meet off of craigslist. Please be safe and responsible. but it’s all just fluff and humour. Also, possibly some horrible writing cause i couldn’t bother editing this <3

“And when I walked into the bedroom I found him in there, completely naked, with some slut sucking his dick… so basically, that’s why I need a new apartment.” You looked around at the three men in front of you, realising you had zoned out a bit there while telling your story. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“Uhh,” the blonde one, which introduced himself as Harrison earlier, spoke, “Do you have any pets?”

“Oh,” well that was embarrassing, “No, I mean I had a schnauzer when I was younger and I always wanted to get another one but who am I kidding, nothing will ever live up to Mr Snuzzlekins.” For the love of God, shut up! “No, I don’t have any pets.” You felt your entire face heating up. Suddenly you became very aware of a strand of hair that was in front of your face so you pushed it behind your ear

“Mr Snuzzlekins?” The other one, Tom, laughed with a small smile.

“My sister named him,” you lied. You were already embarrassed as it was.

There was a moment of silence where no one knew what to say next, so you decided to break the tension. Awkwardly laughing, you said: “You know, the funny thing is, I didn’t expect you to be… guys.” That was true. When you had been searching through the Craigslist advertisements there had been a lot of applications for housing but you had ignored most of them because they sounded too much like human trafficking scams or some other creeps looking for a way to get a girl. You had particularly found interest in this apartment, not only because of the actual great (and safe looking) location of the building but also because you had thought that the ad was written by a woman. Not that you didn’t think a woman could murder you, but it did bring a bit more security to you to live with someone of your own gender.

Well, as you saw three men sitting in front of you, you had guessed that wrong. They did seem nice enough though. Handsome too. You really hoped they weren’t murderers. They wouldn’t do well in prison… also, your death. Not a favourable outcome in the slightest.

“Why’d you think that?” the third one asked. You had missed his name during the introduction round, but you already felt like you could be good friends with him. His boyish charms made you think he was younger than the other two, though he did have a very small resemblance to Tom. You found it cute how his curls bounced around when he moved his head.

“Well, the ad, it was phrased… very femini-ninely...” That was definitely too many syllables. Could this interview go any worse? No, probably not. But the guys didn’t seem to mind your momentary idiocy.

“Oh, yeah, we had our mum write it for us.” Tom explained, sitting a bit more straight up, “We had been trying to find someone else to live with us ever since our friend Tuwaine moved out, but we kind of suck at advertising ourselves, so yeah-”

“Oh, well that makes sense, yeah.” Their mum wrote it. So they were a family. Brothers? Yeah probably. You didn’t really see how the Harrison guy fit into that since he didn’t look anything like the other two. Shattering blue eyes instead of the warm hazel. Dark blonde hair instead of the reddish-brown. All three had magnificent bone structure that you had to admit, but not in the same way.

“So, what do you guys do?” you decided to ask.

“We’re actors,” Harrison said, pointing at himself and Tom. Since you had no heart palpitating reaction when you first saw them, you could probably safely assume that they were still trying to find their break out role. Harrison pointed at the third of their addition before continuing. “Harry is more of a behind the scenes man, photography and directing, that kind of stuff.”

“That’s… interesting.” You smiled. Were you about to move in with three wannabes? If you were, would it be inevitable that you’d end up paying the rent for all of them because they wouldn’t be able to find gigs? That was a bit harsh. Besides, you could always look for a new place before that happened and move out. And who even said that you could move in, in the first place? “Anything I might have seen you guys in? Or some of your work?” You directed the additional question to...Harry.

Harry. Harrison. Try to remember that.

“I’ve had a few roles on the West End, nothing big yet but once I have a role, it’s at least steady for a bit, you know,” Tom said.

“I’ve mostly been doing headshots for people, so I doubt you’d have seen anything I’ve done.” Harry said. You nodded to his statement.

“And Harrison has been signed with this fashion designer. You might have seen some ads around town.” Modelling. Not another model to live with. You tried not to let your smile fade.

“No, sorry, I don’t think I have. But I’ll be on the lookout.” The grin you put up actually reached your eyes genuinely.

“So what about you?” Harrison was the one to ask, not noticing any change in your demeanour. “What is it that you do?”

“I’m a teacher. I know, not very glamorous or anything- and I might sometimes come home with an abundance of ice-lolly sticks- but it’s good fun and it pays well.” You looked around some more around the apartment. As you focused on the spacious living room of the loft, you wondered how these guys could afford it. Were their rich parents paying for it? Was there secretly asbestos in the walls, making rent not even a problem? Were they going to kill you?

It was a really nice flat. With exposed brick walls and wooden beams at the ceiling, which the guys used cleverly to hang their houseplants from. Even with the large space and the big windows covering the outer walls of the room, it felt very homey. Comfortable.

“I’m sure you already know, but it’s a really great place you guys got.” Compliments always worked, so that was your way to go to ensure you had a roof over your head soon. Feeling a bit more comfortable now, you decided to get up to walk a bit around the room. The reason for that specific action was unknown to you, but you did it.

It had been the first day since your breakup that you had actually made an effort in looking presentable. Hair washed and brushed, you had clothes on that had zero Cheeto dust on it. Of course, since these were guys it probably didn’t even matter to them what you looked like but when you still thought you might be living with other women, you were terrified of being denied because of how you looked or something. That could still happen, but they just didn’t seem like the shallow type. And they had seemed really surprised when you appeared at their front door, as if they didn’t expect a girl to show up either.

All three of them turned their heads as you walked around, following you with their eyes. It was a mix of curiosity and the same fear that you saw in people on competition shows, when they were waiting for the judges’ critique.

You looked out the window to see the view. It was a lovely lookout on the city.

“How come your roommate moved out?” Was it your place to ask? You had no idea. They didn’t seem to mind the question, though.

“He moved in with his girlfriend instead.” Harry was the one to answer. A heart wrenching feeling fell over you. You didn’t know this Tuwaine, or his girlfriend, but a sudden wave of hatred towards them and their happiness overwhelmed you. Why did everyone have to be all happy and in love? It was disgusting. You were sick of it.

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t mind living here.” Somehow you managed to speak out without showing any of your feelings through it. You allowed yourself to walk around to the kitchen island. It was recycled wood with a dark varnish on top, making the light from outside shine on it. You could almost see yourself reflecting in it. Were they this clean or had they no idea how to cook?

“Don’t get me wrong, you seem great, but we don’t really know anything about you yet.” Tom got up and walked up to you. The other two followed his steps. You were now standing on opposite sides of the kitchen island, making you feel as if you were a bartender ready to take their orders.

“There really isn’t much more to tell. I mean, I did just go through a break up, so emotions are uhm… out there. I might be spending the next few weeks watching horrible Hallmark movies, like 4 or 5… a day.” You saw the disgust on Harry’s face and quickly made an attempt at recovery. “But I can do that on my laptop and headphones, so ya know, I’ll be quiet. I’ll be in my room the entire time too, probably, so you might not even notice I’m here.” You tried to sell yourself as un-pathetically as possible. It had come to desperate measures in desperate times. Because, what your (possible) new roommates didn’t know, was that you had already spent the last four weeks looking for a new place, and while there was no luck in that, you had to do with sleeping on the tiny couch of your best friend.

As if he could actually read your mind, Harrison’s next question was: “So, where have you been living the last few days then? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not at all,” you said, finding large interest in the pattern of the stained wood. Not looking up at the three men, “I’ve been living with my best friend. She’s great but I just don’t think I'm suited for the life she and her supermodel friends have-” Why did you mention the models? Your eyes shot up to Harrison’s. But it was Harry’s and Tom’s that were wide.

“Supermodels?” Tom coughed out. You nodded, having leaned in with your elbows on the table, looking rather unimpressed. The way Tom’s hands grabbed for the sleeves of his roommates did not go unnoticed by you. Before you could say anything, he excused himself and the others and they had disappeared into the corridor. Earlier on they had told you that was the way to the bathroom. They were trying to whisper, but weren’t doing a great job at it. You could hear every word perfectly well.

“What are we thinking, guys?” Tom said, closing the door behind him. When he turned around, Harrison and his brother were rubbing their arms, on the spots where Tom had been a bit too rough on his grip. Harry sat down on the edge of the bathtub, while Harrison decided to remain standing,eventually leaning against the tiled wall. There was a bright light in the small bathroom, but the vintage green tiles made it all look much darker.

“She seems nice.” Harrison spoke up finally. “But I don’t know, she’s obviously a… she. Won’t that be weird?”

“What do you think, Tom?” Harry asked his older brother, who, even though had been the one to pull them into the bathroom, had not planned on saying much. “You’re the one with experience in living with a woman. So try to cancel out those supermodels for a sec.”

“I don’t know,” Tom bit the inside of his cheek. Before he had moved in with his brother and best friend, he had been living with his then girlfriend, Stacey. They had been together for a while until she had decided that maybe, this wasn’t meant to be after all. Unlike you, though, the apartment had been in his name so he had a place to stay, but he just couldn’t get himself to live alone in a place that was intended on being lived in by two people. So, he moved out.

“I mean… every girl is different, so I can’t say shit.”

“I’m really not that bad!” you shouted from the other side of the door, immediately hiding your mouth behind your hands. Now they knew you were listening to their private conversation. The bathroom door opened and Tom’s head popped out. He saw you sitting on the couch.

“Could you- could you hear all of that?” he pointed back into the bathroom. You nodded, still covering your mouth, scared you would say something else embarrassing. But the guys seemed to be just as abashed. One by one they walked out and came to sit on their basically appointed seats on the sofa. Did they have their own claimed seats? Would you need to be prepared to only sit in one spot of the room forever? Shit, they had all the seats with the window view…

“So,” Harry said, “when you said supermodels-” but he never got to finish his sentence because Harrison slapped him across the back of his head. You suppressed a small laugh. It didn’t go unnoticed by Tom, who reciprocated the expression. This, in turn, was missed by you. You only looked in his direction a second later, when the smile had slightly faded already.

“Thanks for saying that whole ‘every girl is different’ thing. Not saying I can’t cook… even if that is going along with the stereotype, but I wouldn’t exactly want to be accepted to live here as a nanny… not that I think you guys can’t take care of yourselves! I mean just look at-” you eyes wandered around them just for a second before coming back on the right track. “- at the apartment. What I mean is- uhh.”

“Guys are dicks?” Harrison suggested.

“Yes! No! No, of course not, well some. But I don’t think you guys are. You seem really nice. I’ve just had… experiences with living with other types of guys and that really was not the planned outcome now that I think about it and I don’t know why I can’t shut up now because I have no idea why I’m telling you all this.”

“Is this Spencer that we’re talking about here?” Tom asked and your eyes shot to his direction, shocking even him. The name had become somewhat of a trigger for you in the last few days. At the last moment, you realised you had actually mentioned his name yourself to them during your introductory story, so that spared you a good bit of humiliation there. You decided to keep quiet. You all did. Great, because this day had not gone awkward enough. Maybe you could sink into the surface of the ground and die there? Then there would be no more reason to find any living space. It would all be over. Yeah, that really didn’t sound too bad even.

“So, do you wanna see your room?” Harrison broke the silence and his words surprised everyone, even him. You took longer than it should have to comprehend what he had just suggested.

“What? Uhh, yes! Yes! Oh my god, that would be fantastic. Thank you.”

“Great,” Harrison clapped his hands on his thighs before getting up. Then he extended one of those hands to you. He led you to the corridor opposite the bathroom, the third door on the left. The door had some scraped paint residue on it and you could see a poor attempt was made at pulling off the scotch tape that held up posters on it or something? It opened up to a room. It wasn’t big or small. The wall color was a nice beige, a bit of a sandy, almost peachy color. You could definitely work with it.

The guys let you take it in, but also took that moment to give each other death glares, most of them directed at Harrison.

“What exactly were you thinking?” Tom asked him, this time properly whispering. For extra measure he extended his neck to look into the hallway to see if you were walking out of the room again.

“Actually, I was thinking about how you had showed up at my door at 2 am when Stacey dumped you.”

“She didn’t dump me. No one was dumped.” Tom denied like always.

“No, you were definitely dumped, mate.” Harry said, not even making an attempt at hiding the amusement in his voice.

“Anyway,” Harrison ignored the interaction between brothers, “I thought of you and how miserable you were then. She’s probably going through that same thing.” If not worse, he wanted to add, but he also didn’t want to edge Tom’s ego any further. “So, let’s give her a chance.”

Tom still didn’t seem to be entirely sure. He raised his eyebrow, thinking. He looked once more at the corridor, expecting you to walk out any moment, but you still were in the room. What were you even doing there? The place was entirely empty.

“Fine,” he gave in, “but if she turns out to be completely psychotic, you’re kicking her out, Haz.” He immediately noticed the wince in Harry’s face. Had he mistimed his words?

Yes, he had, because you were standing right behind him now. The sight of you made his heart stop for a good second as he went pale.

“Fucking Christ,” Tom gasped, “if you live here, you’re getting a bell. None of that sneaking around.”

“Are we talking service, hand, cow, or the kinky cat collar type?” you smirked, knowing you had gotten him completely flustered at your joke. While Harrison and Harry burst out in laughter, Tom didn’t move a muscle. His cheeks and neck, however, had started to turn a lovely rosy colour. He opened his mouth a bit, just to close it up again as he changed his mind.

_______________________

While you had told them that you would be spending your days crying into a pint of ice cream while watching movies, reality was much more different from that. It was true that you barely left your room, but that was because you were too busy unpacking all your things out and setting up your room. The guys were nice enough to help you bring up the furniture sets and the boxes, which had been lovingly left at the curb of the building by the people from the moving company.

That ordeal had taken up most of Saturday. Your first task was to set up the bed, which Harrison helped you with. You tried to tell him that you didn’t need help, but your words were futile the second you almost dropped a wooden plank on yourself. The flatpacks were easy enough to understand, and unlike what you had done there, you weren’t the worst when it came to building, so all the furniture was set up by the end of Sunday. It meant that you could spend the rest of the week opening boxes and making your room really yours.

But Monday also meant work, so you only had the afternoons and nights to do it. Together with the fact that you had to leave early for work, meant that the guys really barely saw you. The only sign of your presence would be the music you were playing from your room while doing the unpacking.

It was the fourth hour of your One Direction sing-a-long that Tom walked into the living room. Harrison popped his head up from his book to look at his friend. He did not look happy.

“Dude,” he said. The one word already evoked all that Tom wanted to say, but Harrison loved to annoy him.

“What?” he opened up his book again, pretending not to really pay any attention to Tom. This was made harder when Tom sat down next to him.

“If I hear What Makes You Beautiful one more fucking time-”

“Then what?” Harrison still kept his eyes on the words on the pages, not taking in a single word.

“You have to do something. I can’t take it.”

“Why do I have to do something?” Harrison closed his book with his finger still between the pages and looked at Tom, just in time to see him narrow his eyes in annoyance.

“Really? So do you wanna see your room y/n?!” His voice turned higher as he mocked Harrison’s words, following it up by a gagging sound. “You’re the one that got us here. Now, go solve it.”

“I really don’t mind it. If you’re so bothered, go talk to her yourself.” And with that, Harrison went back to his book. This time actually reading the words. It was enough for Tom to know that the conversation was over. He didn’t even try to argue. He gave Harrison one more glare and got up. While walking to your room, he noticed that Harry had actually been in the kitchen this whole time, listening in on their conversation. He tried to give his little brother a look, hoping for support, but he didn’t get any of that. Harry disappeared behind the doors of a cupboard and Tom went into the corridor, still rolling his eyes.

When he reached your door, he couldn’t hear you singing anymore. It was just One Direction coming from the speakers. Now, he enjoyed the lads just as much as the next guy, but after a while he just needed it to stop. And coming in in five hours was definitely a while.

He knocked on the door. There was a sound that resembled you. A bit of a murmur that formed no particular word. It didn’t sound like a denial though, so slowly, in case you didn't want him to come in, he opened the door.

You were quick in decorating the room. Only a few days ago it was still empty and a bit cold looking, now the walls were covered with posters and pictures. You had used one entire wall just for your bookcase. There didn’t seem to be an order on the shelves just yet, but you left that for the last thing to do since the rest of the room seemed a bit more important at the moment.

The bed was unmade, with several pillows thrown about over it. Behind it the headboard, which simultaneously served as a shelf. Stuffed animals and a few more books were strewn about. Overhead were fairy lights, matching the ones on the doorframe and on the bookcase. Together with the lamp that was on the desk, it was the only light in the room. Since it was dark, it gave the room a warm and cozy atmosphere.

But the first thing that Tom noticed when he walked into the room was the smell. Coconut? It wasn’t overwhelming, just strong enough to be pleasantly surprising and noticeable.

You were standing on a small step ladder, which you usually used to reach the upper shelf of your bookcase (high walls gave the opportunity for more shelves, which you could never say no to). You were in the middle of hanging up a picture on the wall as the song from your speaker continued.

Can we take the same road, two days in the same clothes-

You were holding on to the frame with both hands, trying to centre it on the nail in the wall, but every time you pulled away, the frame would slant to the side.

And I know just what she’ll say if I can make all this pain go-

Tom saw you get fed up with the picture, throwing it on the bed with a groan. That’s when you looked up at him. The dim and soft light was shining just at the angle that when he looked at you, he could see the tear streaks down your face. You had definitely been crying. You were still sniffling a bit when you stepped down to the floor.

“Am I too loud? Sorry.” you immediately reached out to your phone, which was connected to the speaker, and pressed down the volume. Then you decided to just turn it off completely. Maybe you’ve had enough of it for now.

“Uhh, a bit, but it’s fine. We like 1D here, so.” Tom suddenly felt like a real dick when he saw the small, apologetic, smile you gave him. You were holding the speaker in your hands as you sat on the bed, staring at it, a bit lost, and Tom wasn’t sure if he was supposed to leave or not.

“Are you okay?” he asked. You had clearly forgotten he was still there, because you looked up looking a bit frazzled.

“No.” You said honestly. What would be the point in pretending? You couldn’t fool anyone even if you tried. Misery was the only thing feeling your once Spencer-filled void. Ugh, the sound of his name, even just in your thoughts, made you want to scream. Unconsciously, and a bit to Tom’s amusement, you had grabbed one of your pillows and started to hit your fist right in the middle of it. Your hits were getting harder and rougher.

“Ever considered boxing?” He brought you out of your haze. You looked down at the pillow, seeing the sad looking indent on the kitten-patterned pillow. Tom took the pillow away from you and fluffed it out to its normal shape before putting it back.

“It’s just been hard, you know,” you said, more to yourself than to him and Tom understood that. He knew what you meant. He had been in that same position not too long ago and seeing you like this did definitely bring back some of those feelings he had tried to suppress back then.

“Like, I thought he was the one. And I know it sounds so stupid, I don’t even believe in that whole soulmate crap, but he was it for me. For the first time, I could actually imagine myself enduring nine months of hell to have a kid with him, sorry if I’m being TMI.”

“You’re good,” he said. He also understood that feeling. Maybe not in the exact, child bearing way, but he could resonate with that whole it thing. He had felt the same way about Stacey. He had never told anyone this, and was never planning on telling anyone, but the day before they broke up, he had been out in the city looking for an engagement ring. It had come unplanned. He wasn’t thinking yet about actually proposing. But he had been in town for an audition and on his way home he saw the jeweller. It was the first time he had ever thought of it, and it seemed right, so he walked in and just looked around.

“You must think I’m so pathetic though. Crying for weeks about some douchebag.”

“Well, you’ve only lived here for five days, so I wouldn’t know about that.” He smirked. You groaned again and fell with your head on a big fluffy pillow.

“But no,” he said eventually, “I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

“Thanks.”

_______________________

Another week had gone by and your mother had somehow found out about your new living arrangement. So, the last 20 minutes you had been sitting on the couch, listening to her yelling.

“No mum, I’m fine.” you said, for what felt like the 50th time. Right at that moment, Harry showed up in the living room, making his way from a shower to his bedroom, only a towel around his waist. His usually curly hair was a wet mop, covering most of his face.

“You don’t even know them!” your mother shrieked.

“Harry, are you going to murder me?” you asked as he walked by, covering the microphone of your phone. Without missing a beat, or looking down at you, he answered with a snappy “Yup,” and walked into his own room.

“They’re really nice guys, mum.” You told her. It took you another ten minutes to convince her not to come over tomorrow (or ever, in general). The conversation had taken an abrupt turn when suddenly, she invited you to a video call. Knowing that if you didn’t answer it, you would never hear the end of it, you accepted the call. Your mothers face, or better said, forehead, showed up on screen. You tried to cover your chin as best as you could with the collar of your sweater since you were too tired to hold up your phone at a reasonable angle.

“Hi mom,” you sighed.

“Where are they?!” she said, looking around as if she could actually see more than what your camera showed. You were going to lie that they had gone out, but right at that second Harry walked out of his room. Thankfully he was dressed, but his hair was still a bit wet. His shoulder was just visible in the corner of your screen and you tried to move to the side, but your mother had noticed him already.

“Who’s that?” Why did your mother always have to be so loud?

“Uhh, that’s Harry.”

He looked up at the mention of his name. You were scared that it would make him uncomfortable if you talked about him to your mom, it was making you uncomfortable for sure, but instead he jumped up at the opportunity and the next second he was leaning on the couch, almost over you, and smiling at your phone.

“Hi.” He waved to your mother. His quick movements made his hair move around, giving you a nice first row experience of the fountain show coming from it. You wiped the water off your face.

“What’s your name again?” Your mother asked.

“Harry, Ma’am. Harry Holland.” He said with a smile. You both knew that when your mother had asked him his name, she meant his full name. She wouldn’t be able to make any deep research, but it was in case you suddenly went missing, of course.

“How old are you?” your mother went on with the third degree, glaring at your roommate at each question. Harry answered it all with a big and charming smile. You held the camera, hoping the couch could eat you already. This could not get any more embarrassing, could it?

Oh, it could. Because half way through, your sister had shown up and sat down next to your mom. She didn’t say anything, but suddenly a text notification popped up on the top of your screen.

Who’s the hot guy?

Your sister was not imbecile, yet she loved to act like it. Of course, Harry saw the text and erupted in a loud laugh, startling your poor mother. As the timer on the call was reaching 30 minutes you decided to say your goodbyes and end the conversation. Harry was still laughing.

“So… you’re sister…” he said once calming down.

“Don’t even think about it. She’s 17.” you glared at him and he immediately shut up, which you appreciated.

“Well, your mom seems nice,” he eventually said. You knew he didn’t mean it in that way, but in the context of your previous exchange, it didn’t sound great. Now you were the one laughing.

“That is not what I meant!” he shouted out, grabbing a throw pillow and hitting you on the arm with it lightly.

“Jesus, calm down. I know.” You grabbed the pillow from him. You were both in a fit of giggles by then. It took a moment to catch a breath and by that point, your head was actually hurting.

“So do you think I’m hot?” Harry asked, raising his brow like the cheeky fuck he is. You just rolled your eyes and hit him with that same pillow. Maybe a bit too hard, because it knocked him off balance and when you looked up, he was no longer leaning on the backrest of the sofa.

“Oops. Sorry.”

_______________________

Something you had to learn the hard way when it came to living with the guys was that you had to lock your doors. They weren’t doing it on purpose, but they had a tendency to forget to knock when walking into the bathroom, or even your bedroom. Specifically, Harrison.

Usually, you’d consider him to be the more logical of the three, but that didn’t really mean that much. He was just as much of an idiot as the two Holland brothers at times.

The bathroom incident had happened during your first week of living with the boys. You were taking a shower. The loud water had cancelled out the sound of the door opening so you didn’t know that while you were washing your hair, Harrison had walked into the bathroom.

In his defence, he thought it was Tom showering, not you.

You had not been made aware yet of the honourable fifth member of the household: a life size Nicolas Cage cardboard cut-out. So, when you pushed the shower curtain aside, and were met eye to eye with Nick Cage himself, you screamed bloody murder, almost falling in the bathtub. The door opened to horrified Harrison, realising his mistake. He realised it as soon as he heard the screams, which clearly did not belong to Tom.

But another scream followed, which was shorter and more specific, followed by a “Fuck!” made him feel like something else had happened. It sounded like you had gotten hurt. So, obviously, he walked in to see if you were alright.

You were, in fact, alright, and seeing him standing there, eyes wide as he saw your naked body, you screamed again for him to get out. He took a second to grab Nick and pull him out of the room, mumbling a few sorrys, and closed the door behind him.

Flushed, slightly angry, and with a pounding heart, you dried off and got dressed. Unlike the guys, you were never one to parade half naked around the house on your way from the bathroom to your bedroom.

You walked out, a pile of old clothes in your hands, to see Harrison. He looked like a puppy that might be about to be smacked with a newspaper on his nose. Usually you were very much against that disciplinary practice, but Harrison was no puppy, and you had been scared shitless.

“y/n, I’m so sorry.” he apologised as he followed you to your room. You were telling him that it was alright, and actually quite funny, but he really wanted you to know that it was an accident and that he didn’t mean to scare you like that or walk in on you naked or linger his eyes on you for that long.

“Seriously, Haz, it’s fine. Shit happens… just, don’t walk into the bathroom anymore when I shower. Or ever actually, if I’m in there, don’t.”

“Yeah, of course.”

And he kept to the promise. You didn’t get any other sudden visits in the bathroom, but it was not the last time that Harrison saw you naked.

You were all going out to a bar one night, and a bit shamefully, you were taking a bit longer than usual with getting ready. The guys had been waiting for a while already, and you were trying to hurry up, but you just had no idea what to wear. Finally you had found yourself a dress that might make you get a bit lucky that night. You weren’t even planning on hooking up, but the attention was appreciated. In your, still not exactly over your break-up situation, it was actually needed.

In the meantime, the guys were deciding which one of them had to go and tell you to hurry up. It was getting late and they needed their time to get completely smashed. And while waiting for you, getting knock out drunk was definitely not happening.

Harrison drew the figurative short straw. He thought you were doing your make-up or something, being aware how much time that can take sometimes. He never imagined opening the door and seeing you standing in the middle of your room, only in a pair of panties. You didn’t see him at first because your dress was over your head as you tried to pull it on. Harrison closed the door before you saw anything. But you could hear the thud of the door closing.

You pulled the dress over your body, grabbed a pair of matching heels and put them on as you got out of your room. There you saw Harrison. His red cheeks indicated that he was the one who had walked into your room. Tom and Harry were standing at the door. They could see you walk out and their eyes had gone a bit wide. Clearly, the dress was serving its purpose.

Having already gone through this whole embarrassing scenario already, you decided to spare Harrison. You have him a soft smile.

“Could you help me zip up?” you asked, turning your back and pushing the hair away from the zipper.

“Uhh, yeah, yeah, of course.” He was so flustered. It was actually adorable. You could feel his hands on you as he grabbed the two sides of the dress and the zipper and slowly, carefully, pulled it up.

“Thank you,” you said when he was done. He didn’t respond, his face still as red as a stop light. And it didn’t get any better when you kissed him on the cheek.

It was definitely interesting to be living with them, but you couldn’t complain about a single thing… except for the laundry, maybe.

The END

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to see more of this au cause i really enjoyed writing it :)

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio

tagging:

@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96 @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @spiderrrling @lonelyavenger @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what-a-beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker @chloecreatesfictions-archive @fallinfortom @bitchydecisions @okokimfreakingoutahh @rxsydreams @musicalkey @joyleenl @multifandomdoodles121 @awkwardfangirl2014 @marvelouspeterparker @siriuslyslyslytherinyes @lunalovegoodsgirlfriendyes @bitchydecisions @okokimfreakingoutahh @quinjetboi @sheranatic111 @zspideyy @lizzyosterfield @dahliasbroken @parkerlovebot @itstaskeen @sarcasticallywitty15 @sluttytears @lilhoodhippie @theliterarymess @marlenetough @tomsirishgirlx @hiiii-i @wonderfulfluffer @dumbledorrs @hollandstea @roseke @outshineallthestars @spideyspeaches @ieatchildrenfordessert

#tom holland au #roommate au #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield x reader #harry holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #harry holland fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff

427 notes · View notes

keerishima · 3 years

Note

HELLO! I saw you were a new blog that needed requests and I was wondering if you could write head-canons for todoroki, bakugou, and kiri (separately) with a s/o that has a witchcraft quirk? TY

well hi! thank you for the request, it was so cool to write! now i’m assuming you mean like a quirk that works like potions and herbs/crystals and spirit summoning and spells which is the road i’m taking i hope that’s okay?

now this boy is

excited

when he first saw the mist swirling around your fingers as you fought the robots in the UA exam, a shock went through his body

what was that?

okay he didn’t mean to stare- considering he was in the middle of an exam- but the way you moved and the glints of a crystals around your body was just so cool

time passed and he got closer to you, during the dorm competition your room was the only room he wanted to see and boy did he love it

the green ivy and plants in your room, the pots and white smoke curling from diffusers and shelves full of powder and inks organised in a neat row

your room felt like a whole new world- like magic

literally after everyone had left he was still in your room looking around like a meerkat assessing it’s surroundings

fast forward; you guys are dating and he was VERY curious as to how your quirk worked, and you explained how your spells and energy came from the crystals and jewels

each crystal gave you a different energy, which converted to your power!

kirishima literally watched in awe as you pointed at all the different coloured gems and jewels and the symbols on your walls

he even asked to touch some of them and asked where you got them

he also asked to see them in battle, and asked if you had any similar to his own quirk!

the both of you engaged in LOTS of different mock battles, which almost always ended up in a play fight rather than real training- just because he ends up enjoying watching you use your quirk too much to actually focus

once you two had engaged in a long, breathless make out session against one of the walls- what can I say? you wanted to see what it felt like to kiss kirishima in his red riot form and have him melt back to normal under your touch

yeahh...it was a bad idea to do that in the school gym, where half of class 1-B caught you two mushed together against a wall

back to the hc!

he asks SO many questions

sometimes just sits on your bed for ages and asks one after the other after the other, to the point where aizawa has to come and send him back to his side of the dorm

let me tell you now: if you are 1) planning to get anything or 2) NEED anything, don’t let him find out

you once let it slip that you were considering getting pouches to carry these crystals, and the sweet, sweet boy went out and bought BUCKETS of bags

yes buckets because he didn’t know if your crystals would be affected by material or size of the bag or- god forbid what if it did and he ruined your quirk in battle?!

he’d never forgive himself.

ever.

like literally he’d be on his knees ready for punishment of how you saw fit because of his mistake

what can i say? the boys dramatic

but its endearing :,)

it ended up being the cutest date of you cuddled up on his bed wrapped in his blankets like you were drowning in them,

whilst he sat on the floor, presenting each little bag and pouch to you, all teleshopping style.

‘and THIS 🤩 gorgeous article comes with not just 1😱! not just 2 😱! but THREE 🤯🥵🥳🥳 buttons to clip close to ensure a tight, secure hold of your 😏 special package’

yeah he made a sleazy face

yeah you threw a plushy at him

all of them were bought with your costume in mind and how could you not keep some of the bags? with kirishima watching you with the biggest eyes and slightly-pouting-lips-but-he-would-never-admit-it there was no way you didn’t keep the most useful ones

you asked him to return the extra bags so he wouldn’t have wasted his money, whilst you repaid his kindness with lots and lots of kisses and cuddles

;) or more depending on how you want it

todoroki is uhh...

emotionally constipated

but thats not his fault

#fuckendeavour

sometimes it comes off that he’s not interested in your quirk in a general sense, but it’s only because he doesn’t know how to ask without seeming pushy

he gets shy (but doesn’t show it) but with time that decreases to a sort of dry affection

i’m not saying he’s a dry boyfriend but he definitely isn't as spritely as someone like Denki might be

the way you’d see that he wanted to know more was if he asked you to come and fight with him, train with him and study

this is where he asked about your quirk

he didn’t ask to the extent of kirishima, who said everything that came to mind, he asked precise questions that gave him all the information he was desperate to know because you are so cool it makes his heart burn needed

and he also knew you would add more information as you explained, which he loved because he loved hearing you talk so passionately

this time your quirk allowed you to control people to an extent, depending on different plants and herbs you used

the plants each had a special line, muttered as you dropped the herbs anywhere on your opponent for it to activate

best believe todoroki asked for one to knock endeavour out, literally out of nowhere💀

once, one night you had been laying on your bed, and todoroki had popped over to see you. it was still quite early on in your relationship so you weren’t expecting him to cuddle up beside you and tuck into your smaller body, chin hooked onto your shoulder whilst his eyes bore into yours from below todoroki loves eye contact

‘Do your plants have meanings?’

that’s it, that’s all he softly whispered in your ear

‘What do you mean?’ You whispered back

‘Like...like roses mean love...do your herbs have a meaning linked to what they do?’

okay now he was blushing, very gently because he didn’t want to annoy you, or ask you a question you’d never thought of and make you feel silly or insecure about his quirk

YOU on the other hand were smothering a dopey grin. you knew your boyfriend and his boundaries, and you knew that him asking you in such an intimate setting meant he was trying hard for you

you also knew that he’d just given you free reign to ramble however you saw fit

so you explained, how each herb did this, how if you mixed them they did that, if you made a liquid infused with them it helped with your application in battle and so much more

todoroki listened silently, but his eyes were gleaming

literally glowing in the darkness- I mean was that even possible? it had to have been considering how todoroki looked at you that night

after you were done, he replied with a similar thing about his own quirk, and both of you had a long long chat that went from quirks, to schooling, to life, to aliens and more

todoroki had the weirdest humour, he never knew he was being funny until your quiet giggles morphed into full blown laughter- and caused a knock from the next room over because you were being too loud

he would let out his own little chuckles and smirks, seeing you enjoy his company so much

it was a while after that day when something new happened

you’d sent him a message, whilst he was sitting right next to you, and your contact name flashed on his screen suddenly, catching your eye

‘my calendula’

you looked at todoroki

todoroki looked at you

you both blinked

‘calendula?’ you asked

‘yes’ todoroki replied

‘why calendula?’

‘because,’ todoroki blushed deeply, eyes flickering away from yours

‘because you said calendula means joy...you’re my joy. arent you?’

and god help anyone who tries to say you aren’t todoroki’s joy

because you would literally throw them to the ground

your heart soared at how todoroki loved you and your quirk so much

even though it wasn’t blatantly obvious, it was the little things he did for you 😍

he originally going to call you his basil until Bakugou came round behind him asking him if he was writing the dorms grocery list. safe to say that plan was aborted immediately :D

oho

sorry I just

*pfft*

bakugo amuses me, he really does he’s so entertaining

okay sorry back to the headcanon

I headcanon you’re REALLY strong

like STUPID strong

Remember bakugos reactions to all the students quirks and he was like ‘shit I cant beat them 😨’

And his reaction to todoroki? yeah he’d literally see you use your quirk and just

no I’m joking

but I feel like as your s/o he’d be super obsessed with your quirk

he’d always want to train with you, he’d see it as an amazing part of you that he wants to help hone so you can be the best of the best

not better than him obviously but the best anyway

not that he’d SHOW all of this awe and pride to you, it’s normally delivered in a bunch of bakugo sentences:

‘oi your form is shit. do this instead.’

that means he’s realised a new way you can throw this punch, with much more force

‘tch, go train. you need the training.’

he wants to train with you. again.

‘....finally. took you long enough to learn that.’

you’ve just done something successfully and he’s trying so hard not to blush at how well you did it.

here your power is more destructive

you can create sigils using a your finger in the air and they create attack power

this with bakugos quirk makes a formidable duo, and if he doesn’t get partnered with you he will most likely throw a fit

but not a long fit more of a like ‘oi why is she over there we work better together’

but he realises as heroes you need to work well with anyone you meet, so he’s not too fussy

because of the fact that you draw the sigils, you have a habit of tracing out patterns and new symbols and any sort of designs subconsciously

this is done normally on any part of your skin, with a pen

bakugo being old man bakugo 🙄 got mad at you

he told you off for almost giving yourself ink poisoning and ruining your hand and making it all dirty drama queen

but throughout all of this bakugo had been clutching your hand, and best believe he wasn’t letting go

he used the hand he was holding to pull you along and sit comfortably, dropping his own palm into your lap and mumbling something that kind of, sort of, might have been along the lines of ‘use my arm dumbass’

now you had bakugos arm to scribble on to your hearts content.

you used this when you were stressed, worried that your nerves were causing you to forget things or simply because you wanted to hold bakugo close

in fact, bakugo himself had adopted this habit, and you’ll notice I said arm instead of hand

bakugo got nervous around you, and therefore sweaty, which therefore lead to tiny little explosions in his palms when you were near

but this habit had started to make him feel comfortable with his hands around you, it made him trust himself more

he knew his power was strong and he didn’t want to hurt you, your quirk was something that helped him with that

and he wouldn’t tell you that but he was grateful. VERY grateful

he once asked why you used pen, and not your finger on your skin considering the pen ink is toxic

you answered very quickly, by pulling out a sheet of people and sliding your finger across the surface in a sigil shape

promptly the paper burnt into a cinder :)

and bakugo never asked again

and that is the end! I hope you liked it and I did the idea of Witchcraft justice 😅 please do send some more requests!

god I loved this so much they’re all so cute :,) thank you for this request!!

212 notes · View notes

gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

The Other Side of Hollywood

Part Four

Word Count: 6.3K+

Author’s Note: It’s the end of episode seven! The chemistry is real, the stakes are high, the secrets are being revealed. I went straight from writing Part Three into writing this, and I have a feeling I’ll start writing the next part immediately...

Thank you for reading the nonsense I write.

Warning: our ghoul bois get sad...

Part One here, Two here, and Three here. Masterlist here. Boom, let’s get into it.

Y/N had spent almost all of her afterlife surrounded by grown-ups. It was by chance, of course, that she was the youngest one at the Hollywood Ghost Club, but until Willie showed up about ten years before, that’s just how it was. And while every night at the HGC was a party…

There was nothing quite like a high-school house party.

The fact was Y/N was meant to be somewhere else. She was scheduled for bar duty that night at the club, but with a note on her room door reading she felt unwell and already asking someone to cover her shift that evening, she had the chance to venture out into the world beyond, to forget what had happened after Luke left the club… The jolts, the yelling, the feeling that her stomach was on fire and burning her from the inside.

So, in keeping with what she could vaguely remember about the high school parties she attended in the 90s, she did her best to dress up: she ditched her scruffy band tees and torn up shorts for a knee length black dress she had found about 20 odd years ago. She had discovered it in the costume department’s back corners, falling in love with the camisole top with the lace border and the flowing skirt with pockets from the moment she set eyes on it. Caleb had told her to take it, keep it for herself, and after a few good washes and alterations, it fit her like a glove… Then she didn’t have anywhere to wear it for two decades.

She had rummaged through her cupboards and found a nice pair of heeled combat boots to match, and with and box of treats for the boys she had swiped earlier that evening under her arm, one last check in the mirror and a final application of a vintage pink lipstick, she poofed out her room to the address Luke had given her, which she had transferred to a post-it note once she was alone, the ink on her arm already fading.

She landed with a thud of her heavy boots a second later, her carpet having shifted to what Y/N could only assume was Julie’s patio. She did a 360, quickly figuring out where she was: a fence to her left, trees to her right and a garden gate behind her, Y/N opted to go forward, heading in the direction of chatter and multi-coloured string lights.

There wasn’t much Y/N could remember about her life on earth, and what she did was pretty miserable: however, walking into the party gave her a strange sense of nostalgia, of déjà vu. She slipped her way through the crowds, for a moment forgetting no-one could see her, setting down the bag of goodies she had brought by the doors of the garage, which upon a second glance looked more like a studio from what little she could make out through the windows. She watched as kids, no doubt from Julie’s high school, milled around and chattered together, talking about school work and how glad they were that Friday had come around at last, how excited they were to see the band play. She couldn’t join in on anything, she knew that, but it didn’t bother her, and Y/N found herself a comfortable spot on the garden’s back wall, her legs swinging as she watched the world go by.

“What are you doing here?” A voice caught Y/N’s attention, looking forward and to her right to find the voice linked a handsome blonde haired boy, who looked rather displeased with a girl that she recognised: the girl from the pop group the other night at the bar.

“Julie is one of my oldest friends, Nick.” She snapped back. “I’m sure she just forgot to invite me.” She folded her arms, and the poor kid beside her sighed.

“Look, we’re not getting back together, Carrie.” He said with a deadpan voice, and Y/N couldn’t help but lean closer.

“I’ve heard that before…” Carrie replied back with a smirk, turning her attention back to the stage. “Something doesn’t add up about those holograms.” She pondered, placing a manicured hand on Nick’s lapel. “I wouldn’t trust her, if I were you.” She added, the conversation ended as a familiar face appeared nearby, Flynn boosting herself up onto the wall, her foot going into Y/N’s leg as she turned around, microphone in one hand and an odd looking box in the other. She set down the latter object pointed for the stage, and quickly connected it to some sort of plug.

“What’s up everybody?” Flynn asked, Y/N scooting along the wall a little to stop Flynn from stepping into her again. “Time to put your hands up, do a little dance, yup, here’s the new anthem from Julie and the Phantoms.” Flynn announced, jumping off the wall and running to the front of the crowd as two kids no more than 12, who Y/N speculated were Julie’s younger brother and friend, opening the studio doors that had been decorated with papier mâché to reveal Julie.

The sight of the girl, covered in butterflies and smiling so bright, brought an ache to Y/N’s heart, though she didn’t know why. It was one of fondness, watching the girl walk to the piano with a shy wave to the crowd of her peers almost had Y/N feeling proud.

“Thanks for coming everyone.” She said as she sat down, taking a nervous breath, and scanning the crowd to lock eyes on Flynn, and then, further back, Y/N. Julie smiled at her, prompting Y/N to smile back and hold her thumbs up in support. Another breath, and Julie began the song.

“Running through the past, tripping on the now. What is lost can be found, it’s obvious…” Whoops and cheers emerged from the crowd as Julie began to sing. “And like a rubber ball, we come bouncing back, we all got a second act, inside of us.” The machine just above Y/N whirred into life suddenly, and out of thin air, the band appeared behind Julie, causing the audience to gasp and cheer while Y/N just smiled wider.

“I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be, that we’re standing on the edge of…” Julie’s voice was unequivocally unique, the sort of sound you found once in a generation. And with the boys behind her, Y/N was confident in the conclusion she had come to the night before: they were the best band she had ever seen. “Something big, something crazy our best is yet unknown, that this moment is ours to own, cause we’re standing on the edge of great!” The boys came in, providing an echo of the chorus’ tagline as Julie belted some beautiful high notes.

It was in this section of the song that Luke’s eyes finally moved from his band mates and onto the crowd, scanning over the audience and just soaking in their reaction. On that stage, he felt alive, free, and undoubtedly happy: in fact, it’s how he felt whenever he managed to get his hands on a guitar, when he got to play, when he wrote music.

And as his eyes landed on a certain girl in black at the back of the crowd, he realised it’s how he felt when he was with her, as well.

“Yeah, we all make mistakes, but they’re just stepping stones to take us where we wanna go, it’s never straight no…” Luke sang, his eyes focused in on a spot in the back of the room no-one in the audience could see: but his bandmates could. Julie quickly noticed where Luke’s eyes had landed and grinned at Reggie, who raised a brow before he glanced between Luke and his point of fixation, a smile on his face. Alex caught on pretty quickly from his raised vantage point.

“Sometimes we gotta lean, lean on someone else to get a little help until we find a way.” With a quick nod, Luke passed the melody to Julie and took the harmony line, rolling his eyes at the stupid grins his bandmates had. They had noticed who he was looking at. “I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be, that we’re standing on the edge of something big, something crazy, our best is yet unknown, that this moment is ours to own, cause we’re standing on the edge of great!” Julie came out to the crowd, singing a portion of the song to Flynn in front, even taking the chance to wave at Nick, which more than ticked off Carrie from Y/N’s point of view. As they finished the chorus, Y/N found herself needing to be closer, and pushed herself off the wall, walking through the crowd and stopping in the front, her arms folded and a smirk on her face as she lifted a hand to wave her fingers in hello to Reggie, who had to gulp in response.

“Shout, shout! Come on and let it out, out! Don’t gotta hide it. Let your colours blind their eyes, be who you are, don’t compromise.” Julie climbed up the piano as she sang and sat herself on the top, throwing her head back as she sang in a way that had the déjà vu hitting Y/N all over again. “Just shout, shout! Come on and let it out, out! What doesn’t kill you makes you feel alive… Oh, I believe.” Julie sang, Luke stepping forward towards her, playing a guitar solo underneath her. “I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be,” The pair shared a smile as Luke free-styled alongside her. “That we’re standing on the edge of great!” Julie stood up as she held the high note, throwing her arms out and giving it everything she had, to the applause and cheering of the crowd as the boys sang the rest of the chorus behind her.

“We’re standing on the edge of great, on the edge of great. Great, on the edge of great. Great, on the edge of great.” The boys sang along as Julie re-joined them, Luke’s eyes finding Y/N’s once more and a dopey smile came on his face. As the chorus came to an end, Alex and Reggie vanished into thin air, and Luke swung his guitar behind him, grabbing his mic off its stand as Julie sat back at the piano, the pair singing the outro together.

“Running through the past,” Luke sang, walking to the front of their stage, coming face to face with Y/N. “Tripping on the now… What is lost can be found, it’s obvious.” He sang softly to her, winking in the second before he disappeared, a group of girls right behind Y/N bursting into a fit of giggles while the true receiver of Luke’s affection stood rather breathless in front of them, practically glowing under the string lights.

After the performance had finished, Flynn taking control as DJ for the rest of the night, Julie was quick to push her mother’s piano back into the studio with the assistance of her dad and Nick, and then close over and lock the doors to stop anyone wandering in before joining her guests. The doors closing and the turn of the lock was the signal the guys needed to relax after a performance well done, all three collapsing onto chairs around the room with happy sighs, the sounds of the party continuing muted by the thick oak doors.

Before any of them could say a word, a hand appeared through the wood and chapped on the door’s inside, the stamp on her wrist making it clear who had arrived.

“Come in!” Reggie yelled, swiftly receiving a punch from Luke who scrambled to pull off his beanie and run a hand through his mess of waves. Just as he stood up, Y/N walked through the door, a smile on her face and a box under her arm.

“You guys…” She started, shaking her head. “I am amazed every single time.” She admitted, setting the box down on the coffee table, only to be met with silence, no-one quite sure who was meant to speak first. “Open it. Please.” She urged, Alex flipping the top off the box to reveal a selection of delicacies from the club: burgers, pizza, meatball subs, and a half of a chocolate fudge cake.

“Keep her.” Alex ordered Luke, his eyes not looking up as he reached for a burger. “She remembered to take off the cheese.” He added with a grin, digging into the burger. Reggie looked into the box, picking up one of the meatball subs, and with a quick glance to Y/N to make sure he was good to help himself, Reggie sat beside Alex and let himself dig in.

“I… I didn’t think you would make it. Shouldn’t you be at the club?” Luke asked, having to clear his throat to stop his voice cracking. He kept his eyes on hers, though his peripheral could gauge how gorgeous she looked in the dress. “Do they know you brought the food?”

“I’m already dead, there’s not much Caleb can do to reprimand me now.” She said with a shrug. “Plus, it’s not my first time sneaking out. I mean, it’s been a quarter of a century, but it’s like riding a bike: never leaves you.” Y/N assured with a smile, Luke smiling right back and holding out his hand. She took it, letting him lead her to the couch as her eyes took in the space the boys seemed to call home, her smile only getting wider.

“So, uh, proper introductions, right?” Luke suggested. “Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, Alex and Reggie.” He gestured to his two closest friends as he spoke, both of whom were stuffing their faces with the food Y/N had brought along. Alex was first to clear his mouth of food, swallowing his bite of pizza and sending a nod her way.

“It’s nice to meet you again. You’ve certainly got Luke smitten…” The comment earned a pillow to the face, Y/N and Reggie laughing simultaneously. “I just mean! I just mean he’s got good taste, usually. It’ll be nice to get to know you.” Alex defended himself, and Y/N felt the blush rise on her cheeks.

“There’s not much to know, but I can answer any questions you’ve got.” She glanced back at Luke, who quickly shook his head at the boys behind her.

“You’ve opened the flood gates now Y/N…” He muttered, throwing an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. “Best get comfy.”

“Ok, ok.” Reggie asked through a bite of fudge cake an hour later, the rest of the room recovering from a laughing fit after Alex’s recounting of a story from when the guys were all kids that involved a play park slide, a frog and Luke’s parents finding said frog in their toilet later that night. They were asking questions back and forth, Y/N asking the guys a question before they asked her one back. It had been on plenty of tangents, but Reggie seemed to have a list of questions lined up, and with Luke’s thigh as her pillow as she lay on the couch, Y/N felt more than happy to comply and answer. She had spent most of the hour in the position, save from when Luke jumped up to fetch her his song writing journal, which currently lay on her chest. “Favourite song from the collection.” Reggie asked, and she glanced back up at Luke before smiling.

“I’m a sucker for a sad song… Unsaid Emily.” She answered, and Reggie nodded in approval, sharing a look with Luke that Y/N couldn’t quite decipher.

“Ok, most hated artist. Before or after death.” Alex asked, stretching out with a hand resting on his stomach. Most of the box’s contents were gone.

“Easy. Trevor Wilson.” She answered, causing the three guys to look over in shock. “I mean, the lyrics are exquisite… But he’s a horrible person, I could never support him as an artist, alive or dead.” She explained, and the guys shared a laugh, Luke taking one of her hands in his and threading their fingers together.

A knock on the door sent four pairs of eyes across the room, and it was quickly followed the door opening and Julie slipping into the studio, beaming from ear to ear. The music outside had quietened down, and with Julie’s arrival it seemed like the party might be coming to a close.

“We haven’t really met yet.” Y/N said quickly to refrain from an awkward silence settling. She sat up quickly from her position, Luke unlinking their hand to make it a little easier on her. “I’m Y/N.”

“Julie. Nice to properly meet you. And thank you, for coming along tonight. Certainly put Luke in better spirits.” Julie took a seat herself, her eyes stopping on Reggie as he took another bite of cake. “Ghost food?” She guessed, and was met by four nodding heads.

“I don’t know if Luke ever passed on my compliments from last night, but you guys are amazing.” Y/N offered, and Julie sank into the chair with a smile on her face, not quite listening to whatever had been said.

“Don’t mind Julie… She’s in her own world.” Luke said with a smile, and Y/N nodded.

“Oh, I know the look of a lovestruck girl when I see it.” She bit her lip, taking a moment. “I’m going to guess… The blonde kid who helped with the piano?”

“Nick.” The boys said in unison, and Julie sat up straight at the sound.

“Hey!” She pouted, but it didn’t stay long. “Ok, so, he may have… Kissed me goodnight?” She squealed, and Y/N let out a gasp of excitement, leaning forward to listen more as the guys shared glances, not sure whether to be happy or concerned: Julie was their friend, and the past few weeks the guys had become rather protective of her.

“Cheek, lips?” Y/N asked, and Julie blushed.

“Cheek… But after we danced together today at school…” Julie’s shoulders came up to her ears and she let out a happy sigh.

“Oh, he’s just waiting to ask you out.” Y/N concluded, and the three guys sent her a look, almost warning her not to tempt Julie. “What? The girl’s got a crush, leave her be. She wouldn’t stop any of you.” Y/N defended, glancing back at Luke with a cheeky grin.

Luke couldn’t help smiling back: God, she was beautiful.

“Have you told the one with the immaculate fashion sense yet?” Y/N asked, snapping her fingers as she tried to remember the name.

“Flynn?” Julie suggested, and Y/N nodded, sitting back against Luke, much to the boy’s delight.

“Exactly.”

“What about me?” The voice that came from the door was the girl in question, Flynn quickly shutting the door behind her and coming over to hug Julie from the back. She still wasn’t quite used to her best friend talking to thin air, but it was getting a little more normal. “Where can I sit?” She asked, glancing around the vacant couch and chairs, knowing the boys were sitting somewhere.

“Just here.” Julie pointed to a vacant chair. “Y/N was just complimenting your fashion sense.” Julie explained, gesturing to the air.

“Y/N? The girl from last night? The one you could see?” Flynn asked, waving at the spot Julie had just picked out. “Sorry, hi. I’m Flynn.” She said, and Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face. If only she had been friends with these two in high school…

“That’s the one.” Julie nodded, and she paused for a moment, listening to someone Flynn couldn’t see. “And according to Reggie, you stood in her earlier.” Julie informed, earning a giggle from Flynn.

“I… Nope, this is weird.” Flynn sighed, standing up and beginning to pace, and Julie stood up in response, worried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s just. It’s weird not seeing, or hearing them…” Flynn admitted, and Julie nodded in understanding, placing her hands on Flynn’s shoulders to stop the pacing.

“I know… It sucks… for all of us.” Julie confirmed to her best friend the feelings of the ghosts lounged over her furniture, but the words seemed to strike an idea in Flynn’s head.

“Can you guys all sing something?” She asked, looking in the general direction of the couches, managing to meet Reggie’s eye contact, who sat up a little straighter, waving his hand to make sure she couldn’t actually see him. “I mean, you all appear when you sing with Julie, I’d get to see all your stupid faces again.” Flynn shrugged.

“It’s not a bad idea.” Alex posited, pulling his drumsticks from his back pocket.

“Ok, but Y/N picks the song.” Reggie suggested, to the shared chuckles of the ghosts and Julie, who quickly explained that the guys were up for it, just picking a song. The girls sat back down as Y/N sat up and flicked through the marked pages of Luke’s book, stopping on ‘Bright’. She handed the book over to Luke with the song picked, and he grinned, closing his eyes for a moment before his guitar appeared in his hands.

The sound of drumsticks against wood filled the air around Flynn before it was joined quickly by a soft guitar, and the soft hums of three boys in perfect harmony, setting Julie up to sing.

“Sometimes I think I’m falling down, I wanna cry, I’m calling out for one more try, to feel alive.” Julie sang along, Flynn watching in awe as it seemed the light started to shift around the couches and armchairs. “And when I feel lost and alone, I know that I can make it home, right through the dark, you find the spark. Life is a risk, but I will take it, close my eyes and jump. Together I think that we can make it, come on let’s run.” Flynn let out a squeal as the guys suddenly appeared out of thin air, Alex drumming away on the table edge as Reggie and Luke sang harmonies under Julie, the latter strumming the guitar.

“And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright forever.” The lyrics were distorted a little by shared laughter in the room thanks to Flynn’s squeal, but the music was still beautiful, nonetheless. “And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright forever.”

On the other side of the spectral veil, Y/N sat crossed legged on the couch, reading along as the band sang, her head swaying gently as she watched them perform just for Flynn, and in some ways, her.

“In times that I doubted myself, I felt like I needed some help.” Luke sang, trying to keep his eyes on his guitar with very little success. “Stuck in my head, with nothing left.” As Reggie and Julie joined in on separate harmony lines, Luke’s eyes travelled up to Y/N’s. “I feel something around me now, it’s so unclear, lifting me out. I found the ground I'm marching on.” Luke sent a wink to Y/N, who let out a laugh. From Flynn’s point of view, it very much looked like the band’s lead guitarist had winked at a pillow.

“Y/N, I swear if you don’t start singing to at least try and become visible, you can take your compliments about my dress sense back because we can’t be friends.” Flynn spoke over the boys and Julie singing the chorus, and Y/N sat up straight, glancing down at the words on the piece of paper and looking back up at the band around her, each one of them urging her to give them something, Luke most of all. It wasn’t just the fact that Flynn wouldn’t let it go until she saw Y/N, but Luke knew how amazing she actually was.

“Come on Y/N, please?” Julie pleaded, thinking it was at least worth a shot. Y/N found herself taking a deep breath and nodding, Luke tilting his guitar to point to their starting point.

“In times that I doubted myself,” Luke began to sing with just the tap of Alex’s stick accompanying him, but on the last word a female voice arose from the air, joining on a high harmony line. “I felt like I needed some help. Stuck in my head, with nothing left.” The notes became clearer by the minute, and Flynn let out a gasp as a girl started to fade into existence. She was sat cross legged on the couch in a pretty black dress, her eyes screwed shut as she sang along with Luke, who couldn’t stop smiling at her.

“And when I feel lost and alone, I know that I can make it home.” Julie joined in for the last lines of the bridge, Luke dropping out to leave the two girls singing. “Fight through the dark and find the spark…” Y/N found her eyes finally opening on the song’s last line, glancing over to find Flynn looking straight at her, to find everyone looking straight at her. As Luke strummed the last chord of the song, Y/N flashed into thin air, the boys following soon after.

“I saw her! For a hot minute there I thought Luke had some sort of imaginaey girlfriend, maybe you guys were just letting him have his moment, but that was a whole person on that couch.” Flynn jumped up from her chair, pointing at right where she had seen Y/N, who was wide eyed and staring at the music on her lap.

How did that happen? How was she visible without Caleb’s help? It just didn’t make sense to her. And with the thought of Caleb came the harsh reminder of what she was trying to do: how she was trying to make the guys, make Luke, give up their dreams with Julie. Willie’s words were ringing her head, and they quickly had her hyperventilating.

“Y/N, hey, are you alright?” Luke asked, placing his hand on hers, and she looked up nodding quickly.

“I just…” She started, but couldn’t quite find the words.

“It’s awesome, right?” Reggie said with a grin, and she nodded slightly, knowing not to correct him.

“Girls! Girls, pizza’s here!” A man’s voice shouted from outside the studio door, Julie and Flynn sharing a glance before Julie jumped to her feet.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow?” Julie promised, and the guys nodded, waving her and Flynn off as they left for the main house.

“I… I think I ought to go as well, actually.” Y/N spoke up after a moment of silence, still trying to process what had just happened. “Someone will probably try checking on me soon, if they haven’t already.” She said, quickly getting up from the couch and placing Luke’s journal on the table. “It was… It was really nice to meet you guys.” She smiled, starting a quick walk out, the trio watching her walk through the door.

“You going to go kiss her or what, Luke?” Alex spoke up after a moment, the guitarist looking up at his bandmates, then the door, and suddenly jumping to his feet to follow Y/N out.

“Y/N, Y/N wait!” Luke called out as he ran through the door, bumping into the back of her and sending her towards the ground. In a lightning quick move, he managed to catch her before she hit concrete, looking down at her wide eyes and shocked face.

“You really ought to watch where you’re going, Denim.” She breathed out, letting Luke help her back to her feet, though the distance between them only became smaller.

“I wanted to thank you for coming tonight, properly.” Luke said softly, his hand finding hers and their fingers interlacing. Y/N looked up into his eyes, finding their lips inches from one another. It was so tempting, to just give in to her better judgement and kiss him, to tell him everything: but then everything flashed before her eyes, and she couldn’t find the courage to do it. What would he think of her, once she told him what she had helped Caleb do to them?

“Don’t do that.” She whispered softly, her heart breaking at the sight of Luke’s smile turning to a frown, a coldness worse than the winds at the beach coming over her as he took his hand from hers and moved away.

“I’m sorry I thought that was what…” Luke started, and Y/N jumped to her own defence.

“It is!” She admitted, looking down at her shoes. “Just… I’m not ready yet.” She lied, but Luke seemed to believe it wholeheartedly. “I’m sorry.” She added, more for herself than Luke: at least she would know she apologised to him.

“Don’t apologise, Y/N. There’s nothing to forgive.” Luke assured her, pulling her into a hug. She hugged him back tightly, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her up on her tiptoes.

If only you knew, Denim… If only.

“See you around.” She said with a smile and they pulled away, Y/N capturing the image of him waving goodbye in her head as she vanished back to her room at the hotel, hoping she could just slip into her bed until morning.

A floorboard creaked behind her in the dark room, and it seemed she wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Well, hello, little sunset.”

After Julie and Y/N’s departures, the guys found themselves outside, taking turns shooting for the basketball hoop that hung just above the studio doors. Luke took a few paces back with the ball before shooting and sinking the shot, receiving a cheer from Alex while Reggie scooped up the ball from the ground, spinning it between his hands.

“Feels like we should be celebrating, or something…” Reggie said with a shrug. The night had been a success, sure, but when a night had gone well back in the 90s, they would have gone out on the strip, seen a movie, done something big to celebrate. “What do you wanna do?” He asked, but they were interrupted.

A jolt hit them all at the same time, the pain from it so severe that it sent both Reggie and Luke to the floor, and had Alex doubling over in pain.

“Not that.” The blonde muttered, holding his stomach as he tried to straighten up, the pain fading almost as soon as it arrived.

“That wasn’t like the other ones… It’s getting worse.” Luke said softly, pulling himself up from the drive-set and dusting off his trousers.

“Why is this happening to us?” Reggie asked, leaning on his knees for support as he tried to get his breath back, the confused expressions on his bandmates’ faces giving no answers whatsoever.

“It’s because you guys are in serious trouble.” Out of thin air, Willie came into view, walking towards the three boys with a look of deep concern as he saw the aftermath of a jolt. They turned to look at the intruder on their conversation, Alex taking a step forward at the appearance of his… Whatever he and Willie were.

“Willie?”

“We need to talk…”

Willie knew the best way to keep off of Caleb’s radar was to a) move during club hours and b) stay walking. He wasn’t sure how, but Caleb had a sense for when people poofed in and out of his hotel, or when one of his workers did anything.

He had done his best to explain on their walk over to the Hollywood strip, but the guys still had plenty of questions.

“So, all these jolts that we’re feeling is because Caleb put his stamp on us?” Luke had to clarify, not sure he got it quite right. He had been seeing red the whole walk over, zoning in and out of the conversation.

“He’s threatened by you!” Willie exclaimed, the quartet coming to a natural stop so Willie could lay out their situation plain and simple. “He wants you under his control. I mean, you’re the only ghosts that can be visible to lifers without his help.” Reggie was about to correct him, tell Willie about Y/N and her visibility only a few hours before, but Alex stepped up first.

“And you let him do this to us?” He asked Willie, not quite sure what to think of the handsome skater boy. Sure, he had told them what was happening, but he still helped in making it happen.

“I can’t stop him. He owns my soul!” Willie defended himself. “All right? He owns everybody’s soul at that club. If he even knew I was here talking to you he… he would destroy me…” Willie trailed off, allowing Luke to step in.

“Everybody’s soul?” He asked, Reggie and Alex sending a look his way, something close to pity. Willie just nodded. “So, was she in on it too? Did she help?” Luke demanded an answer, and Willie sighed.

“Y/N is Caleb’s right hand… She’s been at the club for a quarter century I-” Willie paused, looking down. “Look, I may have found Alex but… But I came into this unwillingly. Y/N on the other hand… She wanted the challenge… I’m sorry.”

Willie’s words hit Luke straight in his core, and he found himself walking back and leaning on the closest wall, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to come to terms with the information: Y/N wasn’t morally grey like Willie, she was straight up a bad guy, maybe even worse than Caleb. She had seen Julie and The Phantoms perform; she knew how much their music meant to every single one of them.

“So if we don’t join his club, then the weird power outage thing continues until there’s no power left at all?” Reggie asked, sending a worried glance Luke’s way, but knowing if the distraught guitarist missed something he and Alex would catch him up.

“Yes.”

“What exactly happens when the power goes out?” Reggie asked the first of his follow up questions.

“That’s… That’s it… You’re done.” Willie gulps as he spoke.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. And what exactly do you mean by ‘we’re done’?” Reggie asked again, growing impatient.

“You just!” Willie finally got to the answer the trio needed. “You don’t exist… Anymore. Not anywhere.”

“What?”

“So we have no choice?” Luke spoke up for the first time in a while, pulling himself to his feet with a wipe of his watery eyes. “We have to say goodbye to Julie, give up everything we’ve built together, and work for Caleb? Work with her?” He asked, anger bubbling over. Not just at the predicament they found themselves in, but the fact that saying her name would remind him how he felt about her: in spite of all this, he still wanted her, still liked her. “That’s some club you got going on.” He muttered when Willie hesitated on his answer.

“But there is another option. That’s why I’m here. Just… Please. Hear me out.” He pleaded when Alex rolled his eyes, the boys falling silent to let him continue. “All right. If you guys could just figure out what your unfinished business is, you do it in time, you could cross over and be free from all of this.”

“Ok, so what’s our unfinished business?” Luke asked.

“I don’t know, but since you all died at the same time, you know, it might be something you need to do together.” Willie tried to offer a suggestion, but Alex was having none of it, stepping forward to push Willie a step back.

“Ok but why should we listen to a word you say?” He asked with a scoff, only to look up and meet those big puppy dog eyes that had him falling for the skater in the first place.

“Because I care about you, Alex.” Willie admitted, and Alex backed down. “And I hate that I brought you, and your friends into this mess. I uh…” He was getting teary eyed. “I can’t be away much longer… I’m sorry. For everything.” And with that, he vanished, leaving the three bandmates on the sidewalk alone.

“This is all my fault…” Alex started, shaking his head in disbelief. “I… I met Willie, Willie introduced us to Caleb, to Y/N, and now…Now we’re screwed…” He trailed off, Luke letting out a sigh.

“We all wanted to go see Caleb… And I went back to the club to see her I…” Luke ran a hand through his hair.

“We have to go tell Julie.” Reggie added to the conversation, receiving a stern look from both Alex and Luke.

“No, we can’t do that. All this means is more loss in her life.” Luke argued. First Julie’s mom, then them? That was too much for her to bear alone. “But if we don’t want Caleb to own our souls we have to figure out our unfinished business.”

“Yeah, man. And how are we supposed to do that?” Alex asked with a shrug of his shoulders. “All right? There was so much we wanted to do.” Luke nodded in defeat, glancing just past look in search of something, anything that might make light of the situation. Instead, he did a double take at the neon sign on the strip, one he had walked past the night before. “What is it?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, but the night we died, there was one thing we all wanted to do together.” Luke walked past the pair, Reggie and Alex’s following to where Luke’s were focused.

“Play the Orpheum?” Reggie asked the rhetorical question, all three now focused on the neon blue sign across the street.

“Getting that gig was literally impossible.” Alex reminded. “Even after people knew who we were, we had to hustle, call in every favour we had. It took years.” Another jolt went through them all, as bad as the last if not worse, sending all three doubling over in pain.

“Yeah, well,” Luke coughed out, taking a moment to stand up straight again. “We don’t have years.”

Part Five is here...

Tags: @im-a-writer-right @elioelioeli0 @jenjen889 @walkingonshunshine @parkeret @lolychu @leahstypewriter @j-mar-memester @sunsetcurve-h @musicconversedance @gracefulpenguin @shae-is-not-ok @talksoprettyjjx @smol-book-nerd @lord-of-the-fried @siennanoelle01 @deadpoolgirl23 @theatricalfangirl @deepsleepnat @hhyunj1n @lovesanimals

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fanfiction #fanfic #jatp au #reader insert #the other side of hollywood #luke patterson fluff #fluff

388 notes · View notes

jesuisgourde · 3 years

Text

gay/queer references in Peter’s journals

Again, I have probably missed stuff due to going through pretty quickly and also due to having stared at this document for so long, everything has kind of blurred together.

Sometime close to the day that Carlos & I watched 'Love And Death on Long Island' (and afterwards paraded through the tea rooms of Picadilly) we both filled in application forms and were tres excited to be invited to the same group 'interview' - twas more like an audition though. I got the part. Carlos never. This did not bring any animosity - we both know that success for either of us is magnified a million times if it is shared by us both.

from 'A Diamond Guitar' by Truman Capote "Except that they did not combine their bodies or think to do so, though such things were not unknown at the (Prison), they were as lovers. Of the seasons, spring is the most shattering: stalks thrusting through the earth's winter-stiffened crust, young leaves cracking out on old left-to-die branches, the falling asleep wind cruising through all the newborn green. And with Mr Schaeffer it was the same, a breaking up, a flexing of muscles that had hardened. It was late January. The friends were sitting on the steps of the sheep house, each with a cigarette in his hand. A moon thin and yellow as a piece of lemon rind curved above them, and under its light, threads of ground frost glistened like silver snail trails. Tico Feo had been drawn into himself - silent as a robber waiting in the shadows."

Then a meet with Bounds Green's African prince outside whitechapel tube, rugged lookies at I in military attire & to a ruptured Albion rooms tidied in hours and now lids drawn heated on the eyes. A young looking fella has a crush on me.

Jackie/Camillia/Marie/Kate/Chris/V. churchill Jackie/Evelina/Jasmine/Sachi/Dalston/Sussie Sandra/Carlene/FP/Jay/Dalston/Kraut

There sat a young black man, perhaps in his early or middle twenties. He looked for all the world like the archetypal rude boy. Clean, cheap reebok, nike, adidas variously rolled, laced & zipped about his lean, spreadeagled body that hung loosely about the waiting room chair. Gold & tattoos adorned his person, and a blank animal look was attached to his clear face. He sat before me in a row of four empty chairs, staring at polished floor or the mundane television. A balding white man minced in & all perceptions were suddenly proven to be false as they embraced and snuggled up to each other, giggling & whispering & touching each others noses.... very much in love, fingers crossed for the blood tests.

[Image: an article from Gay Times of an interview with Peter. For some reason, the portrait included alongside the article is of Carl wearing a grey and black t-shirt.] Name? Peter Doherty Age? 22 Where are you? I'm on the motorway just north of Southampton. What kind of day are you having? (Vaguely) Erm... quite misty. Something's waiting around the corner, but there are no corners on the motorway, so we'll just have to wait and see what lies ahead. Maybe something will happen tonight.... What's this we hear about you once being a rent boy? Well, when times are hard, duty calls. How long ago was it? When I was 19, about three years ago. How do we know this isn't just a Shaun Ryder-type lie? 'Cause if it was, it would make me a complete scumbag and I'm not, and I'm not interested in that kind of pantomime. It wasn't a very happy time. I didn't really enjoy it. Why did you give it up? (grimly) Well, certain people disappeared... and anyway, ultimately I found myself no longer in such a vulnerable position anymore. Dawn broke, and I realised that it was a beautiful world after all. Have you done any other dodgy jobs? All of us in the band have tried to deal, but it's not good if you like the drugs too much. You just end up using them yourself! I once was a gravedigger. I used to do it with my mate in Willesden Green cemetery. We didn't actually do the digging, a machine did that, but we used to have to fill them in. It was pretty grim work. So are you gay then? Love is love, wherever it comes from. I'm not anything, really. I am a very sexual person but... I dunno, I believe in liberty... The Marquis de Sade has a lot to answer for... Do you get a lot of gay fans? Yeah - well, there's one guy in particular. He's very shy and he follows us around. He brings in letters and cards and stuff, but he's very quiet. I think John (the bassist) is the main pulling power in the band. Are you jealous about that? Nah! I've known him too long.

You know I'm alright i dont even care i like it when they stare & stare call me queer, dear oh dear a million things & what I wear He's real hard when he's with his mates but I'll saw him again & he was too late

Dear NME I'd have thought after the Gay Times piece, the interview with Rapture fanzine & our recent gig at the Slum Club everything would be clear. No it still remains to give a big hearty fuck off to all these twisted suburban types calling me a liar. Vulnerable young men & women all over the world find themselves victims of circumstance.

she was dressed in suit & tie & lightly etched-on moustache. 'I've always wanted to kiss a bird in the back of a taxi.' she says, running her hand up the fishnet ladders of my thigh. Stepping onto the front line in Bow puddles, elevators, buzzing doors,

[Image: the original page in the book has been preserved. Two paragraphs have been boxed off with biro. They read:] “...cast Richard Burton and Rex Harrison as bickering queer barbers and then much more uncompromisingly in William Friedkin's adaptation of The Boys in the Band (1970), which introduced some of the plainer four letter words in the English language to the screen for the first time. 'Who,' asks Cliff Gorman, in his brilliant portrayal of the most effeminate of the homosexual group as they gather for a soul-searching party, 'Who do you have to fuck to get a drink around here?' Other homosexual manifestations to occur in movies around this time included an elliptical but unmistakeable male fellatio scene in John Schlesinger's Midnight Cowboy (1969) when Jon Voight, as a broke and disillusioned Texas stud importunes in a New York cinema....”

[Image, top left: a blurry photo of John onstage, playing bass. Image, top right, sideways: a photo of the band onstage. Carl and John are on the left, sharing a mic. Peter is on the right, playing guitar and singing into his own mic. Image, centre left: a torn photo of Peter sitting in a chair, shirtless, playing guitar. Only his bottom half from the chest down is visible. Image, centre left: a torn photo of Peter sitting in a chair, shirtless, playing guitar. Only his top half from shoulders up is visible. Image, bottom left: a torn fragment of a photo. What looks like a denim-clad knee and a yellow carrier bag are visible. Image, bottom middle: a photo of someone's knee in torn jeans, taken from under a table. Image, bottom right: a torn photo of Carl in a black sleeveless shirt, posing with his fingers in his mouth.] [A paragraph from the original page of the book has been left exposed and boxed off with black biro. It reads:] “The Boys in the Band was displaced by an immeasurably more powerful portrayal of homosexual groups, Fortune and Men's Eyes (1971). Set in a Quebec prison, this disturbing, factually based drama vividly recounted the corrupted of a heterosexual convict trapped in a tough, potentially vicious homosexual society. In one horrifying scene, a weak, put-upon prisoner is gang-banged by his fellow inmates; in another, the 'hero' is blackmailed by his cellmate into accepting him as his lover for the duration...”

Like a cat on a hot tin roof Like a macho man in a roomful of poofs I have tried in my way to be free.

[Written in Peter's handwriting] Jerome... is that how it's spelt? [Written in someone else's handwriting] Yes it is [Written in Peter's handwriting] Can I read you something? [Written in someone else's handwriting] Yes please.....

I insist, new book of Albion, befuddled by drugs I may yes about 2 but I do not miss out entirely on the subtleties of the inhuman relation ships that are this the mainstay of my stay here in one bounce of a loaf. Boys are fooled into fooling with boys. [...]

More general references/some extra explanations:

“The boy looked at Johnny” is a line from Patti Smith's song “Horses,” part one of a three-part song called “Land.” In the song, a young man named Johnny is assaulted by another man in a locker room; he then mentally journeys to other fantastical lands and visions. A lot of people interpret it as being about gay sex, although some people interpret it as being about a stabbing.

Peter quotes and references Jean Genet's writing and works about Jean Genet many times. While Genet's works are nearly all about crime and prison (one of Peter's main interests and points of fascination), all of his works are very explicitly gay. The Thief's Journal is more about Genet's various lovers than it is about his criminal history. Our Lady Of The Flowers is about a drag queen and her criminal lovers, and is also extremely erotic.

(“Jerome” is Jerome Alexandre, vocalist of The Deadcuts, who was friends with Peter and Mark Keds.)

#squash transcribes books of albion #peter doherty #feel free to request compilations of other kinds too

32 notes · View notes

xxjewellynwatts · 3 years

Text

The shop owner - A James Gillies x OC (you!) story

Request: Hello:))) I don't know if you still write for James Gillies... but if you do then it would really be great with some fluff or something. I'm honestly a sucker for any James Gillies x reader content! Also, you're an amazing writer and I really appreciate that you write for Murduch Mysteries!! Hope you have a great day!!:))))

Answer: Thank you so much ! I haven’t written in ages, so I hope you’ll enjoy this! @mylifecrises

Warnings: contains spoilers of Gillies’ first episode.

The sound of a bell got you out of your daydreams. A tall, confident, well-dressed ginger-head boy who seemed to be around your age got into the shop you now owned ever since the death of its owner.

His eyes paced for a while around the room, glancing back and forth from item to another, thinking fast before he at last locked eyes with you and briefly smiled.

Charming, you thought with a hint of mockery.

‘Good morning, how can I help you?’ you said politely.

He stopped walking towards you for a second, taken aback by the elegance of your voice. You were one of those people who didn’t ‘sound like they look’ but in the most flattering way.

‘I need a few tools for a physics experiment’ he said as he walked again towards you while showing you some of the said tools.

As you packed them for him, you looked curiously at him.

‘Are you a student at the Toronto university?’ you asked without sounding too intrusive.

‘Yes’ he smiled, happy you were quick to understand. ‘I’m Professor Bennett’s assistant.’

As soon as you heard that name, he could have sworn your mood shifted. Your face seemed a bit darker, and you had subconsciously furrowed your brows.

‘Oh’ you coldly said. ‘Well, have a nice day’ you quickly said as you handed him the package.

He smiled, less convincingly, very intrigued.

‘Thank you, you too’ he said slowly as he headed back to the University.

You sighed as he got out and went back to daydreaming the life you could’ve had had it not been for an unfair society.

A few days later, the young man came back to the shop. He noticed you had a different dress, nonetheless unique in the way it looked like it had been made just for you. Your (h/c) hair was tied up and your curls loosely fell around neck. You were reading a book before he interrupted you.

‘Oh, hello again’ you said with an unintentional smile. ‘How did the experiment go?’ you enthusiastically asked.

‘Quite well’ he said with the same smile. ‘If you ignore the fact one of the nails fell right when the machine was starting to work’ he sighed.

‘Oh’ you puckered your lips. ‘Isn’t it the most frustrating thing when something creating with our own hands fails us?’ you empathised.

The young man frowned and smiled at the same time, surprised by your poetic choice of words and relation to the situation.

‘Actually, yes. It’s really... frustrating. How come you know that feeling?’ he asked, curious.

‘Oh, trust me, I’ve been on both sides of the “creation”. I’ve felt the strong pride of succeeding in creating something as much as I’ve suffered from the pain of failed attempts. I like creating things, little objects to make my daily life easier like small machines just to... test a theory’ you shrugged.

‘Why, isn’t that quite surprising!’ laughed James. ‘Oh, I’m James Gillies by the way’ he said as he reached for your hand to shake.

You shook his, surprised by the sweetness of his touch as he was of your little enthusiastic roughness.

‘I’m (y/n), nice to meet you’ you smiled, suddenly shy.

‘It’s really nice to meet people who are so imaginative and creative. Sometimes I feel as though all students want is their degree, sadly missing the experience of intellectual stimulation thereby’

‘Oh, trust me I know...’ you answered, raging inside again. ‘Had it not been for this... stupid professor, I would have been experiencing things by your side, as the student I deserve to be.’

James starred in shock.

‘Wait... are you... a physicist?’

‘Officially? No, because I’m a woman. But in reality? Absolutely.’

You pointed towards the book you had left on the counter to meet him. It was a physics book, of a higher level than James’ current syllabus.

When James left your shop, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and how unfair it was that you were rejected from the University on the basis of sex. Had it been up to him, he would have gladly accepted you. You were certainly smarter than most of the students here.

It was already dark when he left. You two had been discussing Physics theories the whole afternoon and did not notice the sun setting down nor the moon coming up. James didn’t even want to leave deep down. He was eager to talk to you and discover your wonderfully unique ideas and contributions to the field. But the rage he felt could not even represent a quarter of yours. You were a passionate, determined and very curious person. And it made you sick people stopped you from showing your true potential.

Ever since that afternoon, you’d meet up occasionally in a café with James to discuss Physics or anything. You two got along so well you seemed to have known each other for years. You were even one of the very few people who could make James actually laugh.

One afternoon, as you were sitting in front of each other, leaned a bit due to your eager interest in your conversations, a silence fell between you two and you got lost for a split second in each others’ eyes.

‘It’s a shame’ said softly James. ‘I wish I could study and work with you everyday.’

By the time the words were out, James realised what he said, and got a little bit nervous. He never felt that way, it intrigued him. He starred down, and around, trying to ignore your (e/c) eyes.

‘I wish so too’ you answered, not ashamed a bit but sad. ‘If I could kill Professor Bennett, I would.’

James immediately looked back at you.

‘Wait, who?’

‘The professor Bennett. He is the one who convinced the jury of teachers I wouldn’t be able to stand the competition and would never be better than all those young men. He refused my application even though I had a perfect education and threatened to leave the University if they accepted me.’

You had spat the last words with the quiet rage and sadness you had confined within you for months. Tears rolled slowly down your face and James did not even notice his eyes were discretely tearing up too. He suddenly wanted to take you in his arms, reassure you, just like he wanted to shout at the professor Bennett he used to admire so much. He suddenly took your hand. Startled, you looked up at him, across the small table. He hesitated for a second and, too nervous from the proximity he had created, stood up. He gave you one final hesitant look before turning around and nearly running away.

After that meeting, you thought James had had enough of your conversations. After all, no matter how intriguing and curious he was, perhaps you didn’t intellectually stimulate him anymore. But your ego was not shattered yet. His absence had only brought up a feeling of longing to see him again, for reasons you couldn’t understand at this point. Weren’t you supposed to be jealous of him? After all, he was studying something you were desperate and passionate about. He wasn’t the victim of his own gender.

A few days had gone by and you were starting to really miss him. But there was no way you would ever go back to the university.

Then one day, you woke up to read a really intriguing news in the newspaper. The Professor Bennett had been killed by an ‘invisible’ murderer. Your eyes paced restlessly trying to grasp the meanings of the words printed. You felt your heartbeat accelerate dangerously as a suspicion crippled dangerously in the back of your mind. You turned around, hoping you’d see James coming running to tell you about the professor’s death and how deeply he was affected by it. But there was no one around.

You hardly fell asleep that night. And you had to say farewell to the idea of ever sleeping well when you heard a strange noise at your balcony at three in the morning. You stood up, covering yourself in your blanket on top of your nightgown, and slowly approached your balcony (you lived just above the shop you owned).

You had to cover your mouth to shut down your terrified scream once you saw James climbing on your balcony. He stood up at your window and smiled once he saw you. Startled, you didn’t move until he softly knocked on the window-door. You shook your head, trying to get a hold of yourself and ran to open the door.

It took you by surprise when James immediately punched his lips against yours in an adrenaline rush. You stood back. You immediately understood.

‘What have you done?’ you whispered, your voice shivering in terror.

James slowly smiled. He knew you would understand. He knew you would receive his love letter through a terrible - but brave - act: a revenge.

‘I love you’ he said, smiling even more. It felt good to say it. He never felt anything like that for anyone. He didn’t even care that much about his own family.

You thought, fast. James was clearly a dangerous person. Yet as twisted as it could have been, you felt touched by his act.

You kissed him, finally making your decision. He kissed your hands and forehead.

‘Don’t worry. Even if they find out, I will always get back to you’ he promised.

#loollll i deadass wrote this in two days i-#hope you liked ittttt #thank you so much for requesting!!!#murdoch mysteries #george crabtree #llewellyn watts #julia ogden #william murdoch #henry higgins #thomas brackenreid #james gillies imagine #james gillies x reader #james gillies #robert perry #james gillies x oc #murdoch imagines #murdoch mysteries imagine #psychoshitlol

26 notes · View notes

masked-buffoon · 3 years

Text

Chapter 9: Scheming anew (Part 2)

Warnings: none

Author notes: I had so much fun writing the interaction between Ogawa and our one and only Kunikida...! They really are opposite and it felt good writing something lighter...! Hope you like it too!

As he was unconscious, I untied the ropes around my wrists and used them to tie him down, before rushing toward the room I rented without being seen by the policemen. I had escaped, but I was now a fugitive who had raised a hand against an inspector... It could have been better, but I would have been condemned to death for killing someone if things had kept going. Swiftly, I locked the door and pulled out the box of syringes to take one and inject the drug in my vein, hoping its effects would relieve me soon. Then, I removed a wooden plank from the floor and pulled out hidden magazines for my guns. I had hidden them, judging unnecessary to use them, but they could be useful at this very moment. I would not hesitate to shoot to preserve this freedom I had acquired after running from the Port Mafia.

Soon enough, the door to my room trembled and the voice of this annoying man echoed through the wood. He was asking me to surrender, so we could perhaps negotiate my judgement for the trial, but I did not need such a thing. I was innocent, and I would prove it. Gathering my strength, I climbed through the window and reached the neighbouring one. The policemen had taken their break and the room was empty, with only the woman's body left alone in its original position. I examined it immediately, surprised they had not taken it out for an autopsy, but then again, policemen were incompetent. I looked around the room, hoping to find something — anything — which could help me solve this murder case. Through the thin walls between the two rooms, I heard that they successfully entered my place and were more likely looking for me or proof of my guilt. Except the box of syringes which could be mistaken as drugs, I had nothing to hide. They would tire themselves trying to find hints which did not exist. I frowned and took a minute to think. No trace of aggression... The weapon could be either an ability or poison. If an ability user powerful enough could kill someone without raving a single trace, then the government would certainly be after him and there was no way he could be involved with this rather insignificant case. Which left the poisoning option. Except by doing an autopsy, I could not determine which substance had killed this woman nor how it had been administered. Nevertheless, I did recall that the struggling had stopped at once, as if she had been knocked out suddenly. I had not heard any grunts or whimpers from someone being forcefully shoved something into their mouth would emit, meaning the poison had been given externally. I chuckled, running a hand through my messily tied hair. A syringe was the most plausible option, and I was quite knowledgeable about them. The victim was wearing a sleeveless top; she could have been attacked around her arms. Carefully, I kneeled next to her and examined her skin. There it was, the small wound caused by the needle carelessly planted into her skin. The blood had stopped circulating so the haemorrhage was now barely visible, but it was there. With some luck, she would have struggled so much that the murderers could have lost the syringe... I closed the curtains and turned off the light, before pulling out my phone and tapping on the torch application. If the needle was still in the room, the faint light would make it shine. It did. I picked the clue up with a handkerchief not to dirty it with my fingerprints, between two planks of wood, and decided to leave the room. I had everything I needed.

"Anything interesting in there?" I casually leaned onto the door frame of my own room, staring as the blonde man was looking everywhere.

"Y-You...! How...?" His eyes widened and he stomped toward me.

I dodged him as he tried to catch my wrist and placed the handkerchief with the needle in his palm.

"While you were pointlessly trying to accuse me, I was looking for useful clues on the crime scene. The victim was poisoned. The weapon is a syringe." I stated "Do you believe I'm innocent, now?"

"I did find a box full of syringes under your bed. Doesn't that prove you're the culprit?" He narrowed his eyes "Not to mention you got me good there... It'll ache for a week at least..."

I scoffed as he rubbed his neck painfully.

"Consider yourself lucky I did not use a gun." I shrugged it off "Your colleges did not even check if I was carrying firearms. Anyway, I —"

"Do you?"

"Eh?"

"Do you carry any firearm?" He groaned.

"I do." I looked blankly at him "May I keep proving I am not the murderer?"

"... Go on..." He gave up "We're at a loss for clues anyway. If only Ranpo-san was there..."

"Well..." I cleared my throat "What you found in my room is morphine. I am sick and I may or may not use medication excessively... Whatever, the point is, an overdose of morphine would cause respiratory depression, which the victim did not suffer from. I was a witness. She was struggling, then suddenly fell to the floor. Morphine would not do that. I believe there was something else in the needle you're holding, but I'll leave that to the lab. There could be countless possibilities of poisons..."

"You sound well-versed in such shady business..." He became suspicious again.

"I do not belong to your world, after all..." I smirked "I have to admit the method to kill the woman is intelligent and soundless. If it were me, I would have most certainly shot her between her eyes... Ah, but I would have taken my gun silencer, of course. To sum it up, I'm not the one you're looking for, glassy."

"... Glassy...?" He raised an eyebrow "Why, I admit your explanations are logical but... Are you sure you aren't giving me a reason to arrest you? You do carry firearms and you sound like a hitman..."

"A hitman...? That's too glorious a name for me." I chucked "I am a forgotten human of the underworld, you should not meddle too much with me. As long as you don't arrest me, I will let you off. And, you owe me one for helping you with the case, anyway."

"Let's say I owe you one. Would you trust my words if I said I would not arrest you?"

"Obviously not." I grinned "That is, if I could not accurately read your mind. I'm a monster, an ability user who can hear your thoughts as though you were speaking at loud. Will you arrest me?"

"The law says I must. Thus..." He showed me a pair of handcuffs "Surrender, please."

"You're a man of words. You do as you think." I told him "It's rare to see people as honest as you nowadays... However, this honesty of yours will be your very end..."

"I want to do my job with peace of mind." He defended "I arrest you, not because I have something against you but because you did illegal things. Do not think I am being ungrateful."

"Oh, I don't think so." I shook my head "What you do is right. But I haven't grown in righteousness."

As these words escaped my throat, I swiftly ran past him into my room and reached out for the balcony.

"I will not let you arrest me. Now..." I pulled out a gun and aimed at him "Hands up and face toward the wall."

The man reluctantly complied, but I was in a superior position and, unless reinforcements were to come, I was sure to win.

"Farewell, glassy~" I hummed, escaping through the balcony.

I stayed a moment, holding onto the edge, until I heard his footsteps hurrying out of the room. When I was sure he had exited it, I climbed back inside and simply walked toward the staircases, heading toward the roof where he would not find me. This man was too idealistic. He was too honest, too. To easily be fooled by my little trick... I had never hoped he would fall for it, but well... At least, he had stayed true to himself and had respected the law as his ideals ordered him. I leaned onto the fence, looking at the alley beneath me. The man was running around, trying to look at me, but it was to no use since I was just above his head.

"Well, he'll just give up sooner or later." I shrugged it off, putting my gun back into the holster "And I'll be able to rest in peace..."

I smiled at my pun and sat down on the roof, pulling a box of pain relievers out of my pocket. I would simply wait for the police to leave before regaining my room and the dirty bed, where I would lay and go back to my routine of drugs until I could finally die.

"There is no way you can rest in peace in such a substandard room." One noted, sitting next to me "Why do you always choose such shabby places?"

"Um..." I did not realise someone was talking to me "Money issues? If I'm going to die, I won't spend much on my living expenses, anyway. So —"

I stopped myself and stared at the one next to me. It had felt so natural… I had not noticed.

"What are you doing here, Dazai...?" I almost breathed out, strength leaving my limbs suddenly.

"I escaped from Kunikida-kun to slack off freely~" He explained "You tricked him well. Did not expect you to hit him with a chair either~"

"I care about this illusion of freedom too much to go to jail." I answered "What I meant was, what is the reason for your presence here?"

"Well..." He pulled out a cigarette "Do you mind?"

I shook my head. He lit it up and brought it to his mouth. The way he smoked differed from Chūya's, in that his fingers were more slender and his movements more graceful. I had only seen him a couple of times with a cigarette, when, sometimes, the burdens of his heart had been too much to bear. He exhaled, and the little smoke cloud faded in the cool air of the ending afternoon.

"I came for the murder, with my colleague, Kunikida-kun." He explained.

"Are you with the police, now?" I raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"No no...!" He laughed "No way...! Too many rules for me..."

"But you do work for the government now..." I sighed "Did you know I was there, in that one hostel of Yokohama where a young woman died?"

"I did not." My former superior confessed "I had no idea you would be there... Or I would have come earlier."

"Is that so..." I felt moved by his words "I'm glad..."

"Ogawa... I need you to tell me something..." He asked me.

"What is it...? Is it related to the murder or anything...?"

"Not at all. I heard you found out. No, I need you to tell me... How is the sunset, this evening?"

I looked at the sun falling behind the skyscrapers of Yokohama. I frowned.

"Are you trying to hold onto life?"

"That's not what you think —"

"I don't think it's a bad thing." I cut him "But I... Am no longer able to describe the beauty of the sunset I once could see from the Mafia headquarters... All I see from there is a ball of white light disappearing in a greyish sky. And such a sight isn't beautiful, is it? It isn't what you want me to show you..."

"It is, indeed, not what I wanted you to tell me..." Dazai looked away "I did not think you would come to lose your colours..."

"You had predicted it." I reminded him.

"I did not want it to happen." He said, more curtly "I did not want you, out of everyone, not to be able to see the colours you liked anymore..."

"Without you by my side, they became completely useless... I had no one to paint the sky for anymore..."

"Why don't you just allow me to take you with me again...? You are stubborn Ogawa, but I don't want this stubbornness to kill you." He told me.

"I choose to die." I retorted "Just like you endlessly try to commit suicide, I let myself die."

"I don't want you to die."

"... You're pretty selfish."

"I'll take responsibility for it."

"The thing is..." I sighed "I do not want to live in fear to lose you again if I choose to come back to your side."

"That's logical that you want to avoid suffering... It's a human reaction." He commented.

"Isn't it...? But those are matters I have long discarded now..."

"What keeps you from coming with me, then?" He insisted.

"I..." I lowered my head "I can't say..."

I could not admit I felt too shameful as a person to ever be able to stand by his side again. I had left the Port Mafia to be with him, yet I was too weak. Even if he granted me sleep, even if he said he cared about me, I was aware it was not meant to last forever. If Dazai was determined to strive and hold onto life, there would come a day when he would meet someone who would support him and whom he would open his heart to. When this day would come, he would not want to give me sleep every night anymore, and I would end up discarded another time, and I would die. I would rather leave the world at this very moment than hoping again that I could live a few more years with him. I would have less regrets...

"Ah, so..." He murmured, throwing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his heel "I still wish you would be with me, though... I... Feel so empty... Without you around... I feel so lonely as well... Odasaku is gone, so is Ango... You were the only one remaining, yet I was not able to keep you with me... I am aware everything is my fault, yet I still hope I could have you back, somehow..."

"And I am aware that I made a promise..." I glanced at him "But you were the one who broke it... How would you expect me to be with you if you did not allow me near you...? I could not understand, and so, I stopped waiting..."

"I know..." His fingers barely brushed against mine "I am a stupid coward... That, you surely know..."

"You cannot always hide behind cowardice... You must face the consequences of your actions if you made the wrong decision... Dazai, I have to admit that, right now, I don't really want to die..." I confessed "Rather, I want to open my eyes again onto a colourful world, and you are the only one who can return those colours to me... Just tonight... Will you cancel my ability...?"

"You need not ask, Ogawa... I will definitely cancel your ability, tonight, tomorrow and the following day too, if you demand so. I won't let you die..." He assured me.

"I know you won't..." I smiled "You won't, as long as I am there. If I were to leave this cheap hostel, would you try to find me...? That, I cannot be sure... You have not made a single move toward me since last time, what am I supposed to think?"

"I thought you would make the move... I didn't know you would leave the Port Mafia..."

"Are you sure...? You did not know...?" I raised an eyebrow.

"... Perhaps I did suppose you would..."

"That's my point." I shrugged, standing up "But, to be honest, I really, really wish I could come back to your side... But I..."

I stopped, and shook my head.

"Let's go back inside... We may talk again tomorrow, if you do come back..." I told him.

"Tomorrow." He walked toward the door "We'll come back. The murder case isn't over yet."

"The culprits have yet to be caught, after all." I agreed "But I do hope you'll find them soon."

"Heh~ Do you desperately want me to leave you alone~?"

"Not at all... But I was tied up because of them, they must pay for involving me." I stated simply.

"I suppose I owe you this, at least." He chucked "I like seeing this side of you better."

"To be fairly honest, I'm glad to talk to you again." I looked at him with a smile "And in all objectivity, you already know I will choose to come back after a moment. Why are you even worried?"

"Because I genuinely want you to come back... And I am also sincerely afraid that you die before reaching my side again. I fear that I will lose you forever, too..."

I admired him for being able to admit his feelings to me. In a way, it meant he cared about me enough to show his true face, he who had always hidden behind a mask of joviality. I hoped he would drop his mask more often around me, and tell me about his issues, but I was aware I could not ask so much so soon. With time, perhaps... Perhaps we would come to become real friends.

#bsd #bsd oc #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #dazai osamu #kunikida doppo #bsd kunikida

11 notes · View notes

littlelonelyjournalist · 3 years

Text

The Grave of the Damned - Prologue...kinda

SUMMARY: A damned soul trapped in limbo develops a connection to a young man beyond the living, and she’s not ready to let go of that.

AUTHORS NOTE: In late celebration of halloween, I wrote this story plot because I want to use the ghost/witch lore from the Originals and put it into Teen wolf, but I’m really not good at writing (Writing convincing dialogue without making it cringy but doesn’t sound like a robot is difficult guys) so please enjoy it and mind the terrible writing!!

Time ran slow. It dripped amongst reality like honey, and the young girl’s knees felt like giving up under her. She had been running around the crowd of cement mausoleums for what seemed like decades, or years, or hours. It was confusing. Constantly running through the aisles, which seemed to drown in silver fog in the forever moonlight. Everything around her felt hazy, like a dream. A weird, fucked-up, nightmare-inducing dream. She didn't know why she was running, and for some strange reason she didn't want to find out. It was a maze of graves, she thought. It was all she could think about. A never-ending movement of shadows and deafening whispers. Deafening, but alone.

But she wasn't alone. Occasionally, she would pass still figures, standing silent. Ghosts of the past. She would call out but they would ignore her in the open wind. Their eyes would never meet hers. They all would look so different, but somehow all of them wore the same detached expression, forever lost in the grey fog. Whispers, however, followed her every step, constantly screaming in her ears. Unlike the people dressed in coal black clothing around her, she found herself wearing her white lace summer dress swaying gently in the soft breeze. It lifted just below her knees and the neck line would reach right below her collarbone. It was short sleeved, so from time to time she would often rub her forearms in hope of warmth. 

She ran along the cement walls until she came to a crossroads, catching her breath in the cold air. Her eyes darted left to right, until she came across an sight that stopped her dead in her tracks. About twenty meters in front of her, as if shining through the fog, was a young man with his back turned to her strutting confidently in the other direction. Her breath hitched in her throat. He wasn’t like the others. For one; he was talking, which she had never seen in this realm before except herself. Two; instead of the cold charcoal clothes that were worn from the strangers around her, he wore a red flannel shirt with a black backpack strapped over his back. And three; his figure didn’t match her surroundings. To her, it had been always nighttime, but it seemed like orange and gold sun rays had shone over his body. It was a strange sight, indeed, but something in her jumped. She took a breath, and stepped in his direction. Then another foot. Then another. Of course, she wanted to be cautious as something deep in the pit of her stomach told her that something eerie indeed lurked in the shadows, but that didn’t matter anymore.

“Hello?” She yelled quietly, hoping that he was the only one who could hear her. “Can you hear me?” He didn’t respond. As she started to get closer, she could hear him talking and laughing at himself. She could now see that he had jet black hair that was cut neatly on top of her head, and had olive brown skin on the back of his neck. At times, he stayed silent for a couple of seconds while his eyes often darted to the left of him, as if waiting for the air to response back.  

“So you’re telling me that, for some unknown supernatural reason, you found it? Just, by accident? In the forest?” The boy asked. A couple seconds of awkward silence went by until he spoke again. “You see Scott? That, my friend, is what is going to make us legends!” 

Scott? The pattern kept going back and forth as she awkwardly stared. “Hello?” She found herself walking just a meter behind him, in order to keep up with him. Without thinking, she reached her hand out and touched the strap of his shoulder. Instantly, the air was sucked out of her lungs and she gasped, feeling a wave pass through her so violently she was nearly knocked to the ground. The dark blue light of the moon was replaced by a bright atmospheric light, and the large stone mausoleums changed into parallel grey plaster walls beside her with emerald green lockers lined up neatly. The noise changed too, as the eerie whisper in her ear automatically switched to voices and laughter of what seemed to look like students holding books passing by quickly. Was she in a school, she wondered. Where even was she?  

“Excuse me,” A gravelly voice said. She whipped around to see an old man with dark eyes wearing a violet vest glaring directly into her eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?” She froze, terrified. His eyes were almost as black as coal, and wrinkly pale skin seemed to be slapped onto his face. She had absolutely no idea what to do. She had been so used to silence that she unconsciously held her breath. Okay, this has to be a dream. As if the universe heard her statement, a body of a young blonde and a cherry pink scarf had gone through her chest from behind. A rush of cold air ran through her spine, causing her to yelp in shock. The man’s gaze had moved from her face to the blondes face as he walked beside her down the corridor, yelling “Yeah, and don’t make me find you out here again. You understand?” The voices in the hallway died down, until only a distant murmur could only be heard.

She looked back to where the boy was walking, to have realised that he had disappeared. Shoot. Cautiously, she took one foot in front of her and walked down to the other side of the hallway. Multiple dark red doors seemed to have been placed on either side of her, with lockers closing the gap between them. It was mostly empty now, as all the students seemed to rush off. However, she stopped in front of a large glass cabinet containing golden trophies and wooden plaques, that read, “Beacon Hills High School: Lacrosse Championship award.”

“Beacon Hills...” She whispered. Nothing clicked in her mind anymore. It was just one vague canvas now, with more questions popping up than answers. She kept walking and froze again at a door with a small window. She peeked in to see a room filled with students behind desks, and there sitting near the back was the lanky boy, writing down what seemed to be notes in his book. She exhaled. slightly fogging up the glass. Ghost physics were honestly weird; you would think that ghosts could just pass through walls as if it were nothing, but it was definitely not true. She went to grab the door handle, but it didn’t budge. Great. Just great. Perfect, even. Because people couldn’t see her, she thought it wasn’t the best idea to knock on the door, but she needed to get to him.

A couple of hours passed, until the loud bell rang through the halls again. Rustles of students and conversations rippled through the hair tirelessly. She had to basically cling onto the lockers like a spider to avoid the bodies of students, but she couldn’t see the boy from earlier, until she found a clearance and spotted him still sitting alone at his desk, scribbling down on the page in front of him. It was only for a couple of seconds, when he stopped suddenly and glanced up in front of him, feeling a strange tingling on the back of his neck. Quickly, she ducked again behind the door before he could see her, practically holding her breath for only a couple of seconds. Stiles furrowed his brows at the notes in front of him in confusion, before shaking off the goosebumps that began to form on his neck and packing his notebooks into his bag. She carefully watched him get out of his chair and leave the classroom, descending into the crowd of students. Oh, she wasn't done with him yet.

Stiles continued to head down to the field. Stands and grey bleachers entrapped the massive oval of green grass, where he could see (and hear) coach hustling and shouting at the other teams members, gripping their lacrosse equipment. He didn’t even know why he would come to practice, as most games he would end up on the bench (which was normally called the “Last Resort Policy” by the coach.” Meaning, he would only be on the field if either someone was seriously injured or didn’t have enough teammates. But hey, it would look good on his resume and college application so it wasn’t all for nothing. He could see Greenberg getting grilled down by their coach, which wasn’t unusual if he was being honest. He finally found Scott and Liam talking on the other side of the field, taking a break while watching the rest of the team on their throwing skills for lacrosse, and ran up to them.

“What are ‘ya guys talking about?” He asked.

“Just discussing some of the new plans for Mason’s party. Lydia’s been on it since August.”

“Wait, really? I thought she was joking about that.”

“Yeah, turns out not really. I guess she has a thing for surprise parties. She even showed me her binder that has all the details in it.” Liam chuckled softly, twirling the lacrosse stick in one hand. Stiles smiled until something was caught in his peripheral vision. Far out on the bleachers stood a girl with what Stiles could make out as long brown hair and a white summer dress. He couldn’t see the details properly as she was far away, but he could feel her empty gaze looking upon the group as well as the cold feeling on his neck prickled his skin once again like in the classroom.

"Hey, is that a friend of yours?" Stiles asked. Scott and Liam both faced Stiles and turned their heads to the bleachers where Stiles was pointing at.

"What do you mean?" Said Scott, staring at Stiles in confusion.

"I mean, the girl who is directly in front of us on the bleachers, currently staring at us. She right over-" Stiles turned to look back at the white stands, but couldn't see anyone sitting on the stands. It was entirely empty, in fact the whole bleachers were empty. "What-"

"I don't see any girl, man." Liam squinted his eyes to try and focus on the bleachers, but he truly couldn't see anything. Maybe he was seeing things, Stiles thought. It wouldn’t be the first time. Throughout the past years, the line between what was myth and what was real blurred as he dove head first into the supernatural world. Stiles rubbed his eyes and look back up to the bleachers, but the figure disappeared from sight, nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Stiles?" Scott whispered, the normal fierceness in his eyes that he was pretty used to looking at had softened with worry. "Okay, you feeling alright? You haven't been losing sleep again, have you?” At that question, Stiles whipped his head to face Scott.

"What? No no I'm fine. That’s all over.” He lied, as the group walked to the rest of the team. They both could hear Coach hollering and yelling at them, but something felt off. More off then usual. He could still feel the cold presence sitting impatiently on his neck, and the pressure in his chest tightened so much that he thought it might burst open. But whatever it was, he wasn’t going to let it phase him. He remembered the feeling of losing control and how worried he made everyone when he was possessed by the Nogitsune, so he shook his head and grinned sheepishly at Scott and Liam as they marched through the rest of the afternoon.

Unbeknownst to them, this new little encounter would shape how they live out the rest of their days.

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski #ghost and spirits #platonic #stiles x y/n #stiles and lydia #scott mccall #the originals

13 notes · View notes