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luminescencefics · 3 years

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you feel like home - part three

He’s smiling then, and Jackson takes that as his cue to continue snuggling Luna into his lap. Ryan’s eyes shift from her new small friend to his father leaning against his doorframe wearing slouchy grey joggers and a graphic t-shirt that shows off his decorated toned arms that she can’t seem to stop looking at.

“Is this our new thing? Meeting up in hallways?” Harry asks, and Ryan can feel the butterflies take flight in her stomach, stretching their wings along her ribcage and floating up through her body, leaving her feeling far too many things all at once.

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***

Luna’s Great Escape

It’s been two days since Ryan last saw Harry in her doorway, and she’s grateful for the rainstorm that’s been plaguing north central London ever since he left her heart racing that afternoon. The rain hasn’t stopped roaring, presumably ruining Jackson’s playtime in the park, allowing Ryan a short period of time to catch her breath.

She’s spent the past two days in a bit of a drunken stupor. After Harry uttered those words to her in the hallway before entering his own flat, Ryan ripped open the parcel and finished her work for the day, sending over her inspections and adjustments to her supervisor in a daze before the clock struck five. Afterward, she tore off her flannel pajama bottoms and shoved them into the depths of her drawer to hopefully never be seen again, traipsing into her bathroom to turn the tub on, a few bottles of Carlsberg nestled tightly under her armpit.

It’s not that Ryan was avoiding her feelings, because she truly didn’t understand them. After two beers, she came to the conclusion that the bubbling in her gut and the warmth on her cheeks, the fluttering of her heart and the pinch in her breath—was all due to the fact that she found Harry annoyingly attractive.

Ryan’s no stranger to attractive men. Her awkwardness practically disappears after a few shots of tequila have settled into her bloodstream, allowing her to hold a conversation with a handsome man without the overwhelming urge to stutter over her words or shift in her heeled boots from nervousness. Most times, in her debilitated state, she’s gotten lucky with a quick shag and a fumbling exit hidden under the darkness of the night. But now, as she sits in her bathtub nursing her fourth beer, a Kiehl’s face mask hardened over her skin, she’s not sure how much alcohol she would need to consume in order to appear seemingly normal in front of Harry.

That was last night. Now, as her hangover starts to settle in, Ryan’s decided that she needs advice. The brutally honest kind that usually fell unapologetically from the lips of her best mate Fiona.

“So let me get this straight, your new neighbor just so happens to be fit as all hell, and you’ve had a handful of conversations with him without making a complete fool of yourself, and you still haven’t shagged him? What am I missing here, Ry?” Fiona’s voice calls out from Ryan’s mobile that’s leaning against her porcelain fruit bowl, the camera angle allowing her to be able to see Fiona while attempting to cook some sort of pasta dish to cure the throbbing in her head.

“Fee, I got fucking rug burn on my knee from tripping over my own bloody feet the first time I met him!” Ryan recalls, the memory causing her head to shake aggressively, trying her hardest to expel it from her brain.

“Well, I did say complete fool,” Fiona retorts, causing Ryan to roll her eyes as she tries her hardest to follow the vodka sauce recipe she found on Pinterest. She’s eyeing the heavy cream she just added to the saucepan, wondering if the color should be pinker.

“I think it’s for the best if I just continue avoiding him for the rest of my life,” Ryan says, opening the box of ziti and throwing it into the boiling pot on the back left burner.

She can hear Fiona laugh over the hiss of the water. “Stop with the dramatics! You’re starting to sound like me.”

Ryan just ignores her friend, stirring the sauce that’s starting to smell. She instantly reaches for the parmesan cheese, adding more aimlessly to change the viscosity into something that doesn’t resemble broth.

“This could be great for you, Ry,” Fiona says through the screen once Ryan’s reappeared in front of her.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Ryan asks, a bit distracted with the way the saucepan on the hob begins to gurgle inconspicuously.

“Because he’s fit. And he literally lives right next door. This is fantastic news! You can get laid without even leaving your building! Especially during quarantine with the entire city on lockdown!” While Ryan loves her friend, she hates the way Fiona says certain words, her voice level rising with each stressed syllable. She’s speaking so loudly that Ryan thinks back to how Harry referred to hearing Mrs. Bingsley banging about in the kitchen when she used to live in this unit, and immediately Ryan lowers the volume on her mobile, grabbing it from its spot against the fruit bowl and turning into her living room to be as far away from the thin walls as possible.

“I’m not sleeping with him, Fiona. I literally just met him,” Ryan says, sitting on the arm rail of her couch, watching Luna in her periphery continue sleeping soundly against the throw pillows.

“But you want to.”

Ryan stays silent, wondering if that’s what the bubbling and fluttering and pinching of all her insides means. Wondering if all of these feelings can simply be associated to sexual attraction.

“Why don’t you knock on his door and ask for a plunger or something?” Fiona says, breaking the silence. Ryan instantly disagrees, her eyes widening in fear.

“No, that’s a terrible idea! I don’t want him to think I’ve clogged up my fucking toilet,” Ryan shrieks, knowing that move would definitely work on a girl like Fiona—confident, unrelenting, and fearless. But for a girl like Ryan, whose cheeks turn red whenever a boy like Harry even looks in her direction, she knows there’s no way she can handle that.

Fiona sighs. “You’re probably right.”

Before Ryan can respond, the blaring sound of the smoke detector going off from the kitchen interrupts her thoughts. “Shit!” she screeches, jumping up from her seated position and running into the kitchen, her mobile clutched in her fist as she approaches the stovetop. The saucepan with the once pinkish-red sauce has now turned black, the edges burnt to a crisp, smoke rising from the top because Ryan forgot to lower the heat to a simmer. The pot with the pasta has boiled over, water falling onto the burner with a loud fizzle. “Fuck!”

“Christ, Ryan! Only you can burn fucking pasta!” Fiona shouts through her mobile, and Ryan immediately discards the device on the countertop, flicking the burners off. She reaches for the dishtowel near the sink, waving it under the smoke detector to make the incessant noise cease.

“It won’t fucking stop!” Ryan bellows, switching the towel to her left arm. If Harry didn’t hear her before, he definitely heard her now, and the thought is enough to make her wave her arms frantically, praying for the smoke detector to shut off.

“Open the front door, get some airflow in the flat, you twit! Twenty-seven and still can’t cook a bloody meal, it’s a shock how you’ve survived this long on your own—”

Ryan doesn’t stay in the kitchen long enough to hear the rest of Fiona’s comment. Instead, she’s spinning on her heels towards her front door, opening it up partly in hope to get the smell of burnt food out of her flat.

Just as she walks back into the kitchen, the beeping finally stops, and Ryan feels as if she can finally breathe again. Her cheeks are stained red from the exertion of flailing her arms about, the stray hairs from her low ponytail sticking to the nape of her neck uncomfortably. She takes in the state of her kitchen, annoyed with herself that she got too preoccupied with Fiona’s ramblings instead of focusing on cooking her pathetic meal.

“Have you died?” The sound echoes from the countertop where Ryan left her mobile, and for a moment Ryan forgets that Fiona was waiting for her. She saunters over slowly, leaning her mobile on the toaster oven so that she can rest her bent elbows on the countertop, her hands falling over her cheeks in embarrassment.

“Knew I should’ve gone with the boxed mac and cheese,” Ryan mumbles, catching her breath.

Fiona laughs. “I appreciate the attempt, Jamie Oliver. You’ve probably scared Luna half to death, poor thing.”

At the mention of her kitten’s name, Ryan immediately swivels her head around to the living room, eyes falling to the spot on the couch her white British Shorthair was just occupying. But when she looks closer, she realizes that Luna is gone.

She quickly stands up straight, telling Fiona she’ll call her back before ending the FaceTime call, entering the living room to search every nook and cranny for her kitten. Luna’s small body is nowhere near the couch or armchairs, her cat tree is empty, and when Ryan takes a look in her bedroom and finds absolutely nothing, she’s suddenly filled with fear at the fact that her kitten has disappeared.

Before Ryan can have a full-blown meltdown at the loss of her meal and kitten in the span of ten minutes, she hears the faint echo of a meow from the other side of her front door. A tiny giggle follows after, and suddenly Ryan’s head is peering out into the hallway, falling on the sight of Luna laying on the carpet with her tummy up in the air, and Jackson’s small hands rubbing soothing circles in her fur.

“What would your dad say about you leaving the flat without him?” Ryan calls out from her doorframe, watching the way Jackson’s face lights up when he realizes it is her speaking to him.

“Daddy will probably be mad. But I heard the kitty outside when I was playing! I didn’t know you had one!” He’s smiling so wide it causes Ryan to immediately do the same, despite her borderline breakdown a few moments prior. She trots over towards the pair, crouching down in front of them and balancing on the heels of her socked-clad heels, watching the way Luna purrs at Jackson’s soft strokes.

“I do. This is Luna,” Ryan answers, grinning when Jackson begins cooing at the tiny animal.

“Hi Luna, I’m Jackson. You’re so soft.” He’s whispering to her and Ryan isn’t quite sure why, and when Luna suddenly flips over and sits on Jackson’s lap, Ryan feels her heart swell at the sight of two tiny things cuddling up to one another.

The silence is broken by a gruff, frustrated voice. “Jackson! You can’t keep runnin’ off—oh.”

Three pairs of different colored eyes look up at the intrusion, and suddenly Harry’s anger dissipates at the sight of his son holding a cute kitten in his lap. A cute kitten that just so happens to belong to his even cuter neighbor who he seemingly can’t stop thinking about.

Ryan just smiles shyly, swallowing harshly when Harry crosses his arms over his broad chest, his large palms cupping his bulging biceps under the thin material of his shirt. She coughs into her fist, realizing now that she probably should stand up from her crouched position so that she’s no longer staring up at him underneath the cover of her eyelashes.

“Daddy look! Ryan has a kitty!” Jackson squeals, his cheek squished against Luna’s tiny face as he pets behind her ears, causing her whole body to vibrate with a deep purr.

Harry looks between Luna and Ryan, that slow smirk grazing his lips that causes Ryan’s cheeks to burn with a deep blush. “I can see that, Bubs.” His voice is so deep Ryan can feel it settle into her bones, and suddenly she wishes her hair wasn’t tied behind her head in a ponytail so that she could hide her reddened cheeks under the deep brown tendrils.

Before she can speak, a loud whistle from Harry’s flat breaks the silence. His upper body shifts away from the doorframe so that he’s standing straight, arms falling back to his sides as he peers behind the entranceway to ensure that the steam is blowing from the spout of the kettle on the hob.

“Fancy some tea, Ryan?” Harry asks once he’s turned back in her direction.

Ryan quickly stumbles to stand upright, wiping her sweaty palms on her cotton biker shorts. An oversized band tee she stole from her ex-boyfriend swishes with her hasty movements, and she can feel her head shaking before her mouth can say no.

“Uh, I’m okay. Don’t want to impose or anything,” she stutters, the sound of her thick woolen mid-calf socks scuffling against the carpeting with her incessant shuffling due to the influx of nerves that begin creeping up her spine.

“Please, Ryan? I can play with Luna! I’m a great sitter,” Jackson proclaims loudly from his seated position behind her. Once again, Ryan finds herself struggling to say no to her new friend with just one look into his beady green eyes. With nothing but a small smile, Ryan’s nodding in Jackson’s direction, her grin growing larger when he scoops up Luna in his little arms, ducking past his father and entering the flat.

Harry chuckles, holding the door open a bit wider so that Ryan can follow him inside.

She’s watching as he ducks into the kitchen, shutting off the burner so that the whistling kettle can quiet down. Ryan watches Jackson plop Luna on the soft emerald rug, laying on his stomach so that he can observe her every move. After guaranteeing that her kitten is in good hands, Ryan enters the kitchen, settling on one of the dark leather barstools and watching Harry grab two tea mugs from the cabinet above the sink.

As his arm extends to reach the top shelf, Ryan can’t help but take note of the contrast between his right and left arm. His left arm was ornamented with various black etchings, flowing across his skin in a strange way that somehow looked beautiful. When Ryan watches his right arm reach out to grab the tea bags, the untouched skin practically blinding against the harsh overhead lights, she feels her throat suddenly dry up—and she’s left wondering if she should add this to her growing list of symptoms she feels whenever she’s around Harry.

“Sugar? Milk?” Harry asks, his back still to her as he rummages around the drawers to prepare their tea.

“Sure.” She’s distracted by the way his thin t-shirt practically hides nothing, the ebb and flow of his back muscles constricting with each gentle movement he makes as he grasps the sugar from the counter and grips the milk from the fridge.

When he turns to meet her at the kitchen island, he clutches both mugs in one hand, the other holding both the sugar jar and milk carton. Ryan’s forced to look away, her mind completely fogging over at the site.

The sound of the ceramic mugs clinking against the granite counter causes Ryan to look up, smiling softly when he pushes the tea in her direction. Just before her hands can clasp around the handle, she regards the black script tattoo above the crook of his elbow, the words Jackson in lowercase lettering make her breath hitch in her throat.

“How have you been, all right?” Harry asks from across the island, reaching for the milk and adding a generous amount to the murky tea. His eyes are busy focusing on the task at hand, and Ryan can finally feel herself calm down a bit.

“Yeah, been okay. You?” she responds, blowing a bit on her tea before bringing the mug to her lips, swallowing deeply and reveling in the taste of the brew. Harry’s eyebrows arch when he notices that she takes her tea black, but he doesn’t make a comment about it, choosing instead to rest his forearms on the counter, pushing his mug a bit closer towards Ryan’s as he leans against the island, infiltrating her personal space just the tiniest bit.

“Yeah, okay. Bit shit with the weather, though. Jackson’s been going crazy,” he comments, his mouth far too distracting when he licks the spilled over tea on his lower lip. Ryan flicks her head over in Jackson’s direction, thankful that she can look at something other than Harry’s stupidly good-looking face.

Ryan hums in agreement, bringing the tea back to her lips as she swivels back in her stool, her eyes back on Harry’s.

“That cat of yours will give him another reason to talk about you for hours,” Harry says with a grin.

“If it weren’t for his knack of sneaking out of your flat, Luna probably would have ended up on the seventh floor. Guess I owe him a proper thank you,” Ryan counters, smiling at the fact that she made Harry laugh.

“Little shit never listens to me,” Harry says lightly, and Ryan suddenly wonders if he has any help looking after Jackson.

She starts to look around the kitchen for any hints of a feminine touch. The state of his flat is disgustingly clean, and when she observes the fridge to see if there are any photographs of Jackson’s mum, she’s found that there’s nothing but artwork most likely done by the hands of a four-year-old.

When she shifts her head to the other side of the room, where the kitchen flows into the living room, she doesn’t really find anything new. The walls are still filled with records, the instruments are still lining the walls, the couch is still void of throw pillows. Ryan tries to visualize the entranceway, trying her hardest to remember if she noticed any heeled boots or women’s jackets on the coat rack.

She hasn’t known Harry long, barely a month at this point, and in that short period of time she’s never heard him speak about a woman before. Ryan’s not stupid—she knows that both sexes are needed to produce a child—but she’s truly never seen a woman enter or exit Harry’s flat.

Granted, it’s only been a month. And she isn’t really sure if she can call him her friend yet, therefore she feels a bit odd in asking. Ryan’s come to the conclusion that maybe Jackson’s mum is an essential worker, a nurse perhaps, a profession in which she has the luxury of leaving her home to go to work.

“Ryan?” Harry’s oaky voice breaks Ryan out of her headspace, and suddenly she’s blinking in Harry’s direction, embarrassed at the fact that she wasn’t listening to anything he had just said to her in the last few minutes.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” she responds lamely, bringing the mug to her lips with the goal of hiding the lower half of her flushed cheeks.

Harry just laughs, cocking his head to the side to observe her intently. “Doesn’t matter. Lost you for a minute in there.”

“Right. Sorry about that,” Ryan responds, wishing Harry would stop looking at her as if she were the most fascinating creature on the planet.

“Does that happen a lot?” Harry asks quietly, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to know every little thing about her.

Ryan’s eyes squint in confusion. “Does what happen?”

“That,” Harry starts, taking a sip of his tea without tearing his eyes away from Ryan’s. “You getting lost in your own head.”

Ryan quietly contemplates Harry’s comment, watching the way he watches her with intrigue. As a serial overthinker, Ryan knows that she retreats sometimes, mulling over her words intensely before speaking. Unlike Fiona who blurts every thought that runs through her head, Ryan’s always been more critical, obsessing over every detail before verbalizing. It’s the only thing that helps subdue her social anxiety.

But she’s found that whenever she’s around Harry, she can’t bring herself to think about anything, really. It’s as if her mind is blank, encouraging her to speak what she truly feels, without all the thinking that usually comes along with it.

She’s not quite sure what that all means.

So she just shrugs, sipping softly. “Sometimes, yeah.”

Harry nods before changing the subject, which makes Ryan feel relieved. “So, my quiet, reclusive neighbor is also a cat lady? It’s far too fitting, Ryan.” He’s teasing her a bit and it’s enough to make Ryan giggle, the sound practically causing Harry to splutter his tea over the rim of his mug.

“I’m all about clichés, clearly,” Ryan responds, her eyes zeroing in on the hollow dimples that appear around his mouth whenever he laughs. She finds herself enjoying the sight very much.

“She’s cute,” Harry says, his eyes shifting from Luna to the woman sitting across from him. Ryan assumes he’s talking about her kitten, and she smiles, swiveling around in her chair to watch Jackson giggle whenever Luna’s paws graze his arms. But when she feels Harry’s gaze on her cheek, she’s wondering if he’s talking about something else, too.

“He’s good with her,” Ryan acknowledges, impressed with how gentle Jackson was with Luna. Most toddlers his age were too handsy with her, scaring her off before she even got the chance to get used to them. But Jackson is proving to be a natural, allowing Luna to grow comfortable around him before he started playing with her.

Harry finally looks over to his son, smiling at the sight in the living room. “Yeah, he’s a good kid.”

Ryan turns round to face Harry again. “He really is. Guess he has you to thank for that. And his mum, I suppose.”

Harry’s face suddenly loses its grin, and Ryan’s wondering if she’s said too much. His eyes have lost their shine, and the granite countertop seems to be more interesting than Ryan’s face. Before she can say anything, an apology or some version of one, the computer in the corner of the living room begins to ring loudly, causing Harry to stand upright and peer at the clock on the microwave screen.

“Shit. Forgot I had a four o’clock meeting,” he says quickly, gathering his mug in one hand and crossing the threshold so that he’s entering the living room space. Ryan stands up, frowning down at her half-emptied cup of tea, wondering what blend Harry uses because it’s just that good, and she’s a bit sad to leave it unfinished.

Harry turns around, catching the frown on Ryan’s face. “You can finish it at yours if you’d like,” he offers with a small smile.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I wouldn’t want to—”

“—Ryan,” Harry says, cutting her off and walking towards her so that he’s fully in her line of vision, “It’s fine. ‘S not like I don’t know where you live.” The smirk is back on his face and the blush is back coating Ryan’s cheeks, and suddenly the balance has been restored in their small universe.

Ryan nods, clutching the mug tightly in her hands and side-stepping Harry in order to reach Jackson and Luna on the living room floor. “‘M sorry, champ, but Luna and I have got to go.”

“Really?” Jackson says, tearing his eyes away from Luna and onto the two adults standing in front of him. He’s frowning and Ryan instantly feels bad.

“Yeah, Bubs, daddy’s got work to do. I’m sure you can see Luna again very soon, if Ryan’s okay with it,” Harry says, causing two pairs of green eyes to fall onto her frame.

She nods quickly, crouching down in front of her small friend and grabbing Luna in her unoccupied hand. “Of course, champ. We’ll schedule a playdate.”

Jackson grins enthusiastically, wiggling on the floor with excitement. Before Ryan can respond, Harry appears in front of her, a small smile on his face.

“I’ll see you later, Ryan,” he mutters in a low timbre.

“Bye, Harry. Thanks again for the tea,” she responds, heading towards the doorway in her socks and leaving the confines of his flat, trying her hardest to catch her breath in the silence of the empty hallway.

It’s only once she’s back in her own flat, her sad attempt of dinner disposed of in the bin and in its place an oversized bowl of cereal in one hand, with Harry’s mug in the other, Ryan comes to a startling realization.

Harry’s tea mug was a far better alternative than the fucking plunger.

*** A/N: Hi guys, here’s part three of you feel like home! I hope you enjoyed it. Part four will be posted on Thursday November 19, so feel free to chat with me in the meantime! This was a submission for the 1DFF Quarantine Challenge, which has other amazing writers participating as well, so feel free to check out the page! x

taglist: @stylishmuser @vikki1220 @greatestview @verorax @cronias13 @adoremp3 @ilovegolden @taintedwonder @stepping-into-the-light @onlyphysicallypresent @dontwanttobealone @justsaying20 @elemayox @awomanindeniall @ihearthemcallingforyou @halloweenniall @live-at-the-forum @kakayam @harryinsweatersandbandanas @hopelessly-harry @ficnarry @morethanamelodyy @niallgolden @harryswinterberries @caramello-styles

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #hs #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #harry x ofc #1dff #1dffupdates #fic: home #1dffquarantine

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warlock-enthusiast · 3 years

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Welcome to Earth

so bb @jjouterbanks and I share a headcanon that both our Earthborn Sheps exists at the same time and are siblings! So, here is a little snippet from them growing up.

Fandom: Mass Effect

Characters: Orla Shepard &&& Cyro Shepard

Rating: T and up

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Orla’s stomach hurt. Rations had been so small and irregular she feared her stomach might eat itself. She looked through piles of trash and found nothing. Their raid party better be back by noon or she considered going out herself.

Which was not advisable. Orla’s leg got hurt in their last assault and seemed pretty fucked up. Without proper medical care, it might not heal back ever. Slapping some medigel on it only helped so far and Vancouver’s citizen just couldn’t care less about the street rats running wild beneath their beautiful civilization.

At least they had some clean water. Orla took a big gulp and managed to get herself up. The weather hadn’t been on their side during the last days and she shivered, pulling a well-worn jacket closer around her body. It would snow soon and they didn’t know hot to survive another shitty winter.

They had been getting worse.

She put her hair in a tight bun, ignoring her growling stomach. Right now, she had no other choice but to be hungry.

“Fucking leg.” Orla limped towards the room of the small ones. Children that had joined during the last month. All seven of them huddled together and sleeping soundly. She’d been like them a few years ago. Hungry and starved and without parents to take care of them.

Humanity spent so much money discovering the stars and just forget about the people back on Earth.

At least she had her brother. More than any of their new little ones. Running with the Reds was not a comfortable thing to do and Orla hoped that she could somehow protect them from the cruelty of their reality.

Voices echoed through the building, which served as the current headquarters of their branch of the Reds. A few years ago, some tech company had just given up and moved to a better part of the city, leaving it to rot away.

Orla felt thankful though, because it offered shelter and protection against the weather and other criminals.

Huge, red crossed marked it as their territory. Never subtle.

A group of men and women walked into her line of sight, packed with stolen groceries and hopefully some medicine. She breathed a sigh of relief and limped towards the group. “Cyro, you’re back. I was getting worried.”

“Ran into some difficulties, but made it.” Cyro grinned and she saw the black eye already forming in his face.

“Let me see to that.” Orla took his hand and guided him back to their bunks. Meaning the two thin pieces of shitty blankets making the ground a bit more bearable.

Orla forced him to sit down, while rummaging through her hidden first aid kit. “Talk.”

“Eh, more of the same. Cops didn’t like us not starving. Got a few punches in.” Cyro chuckled and shook his head. “But they look even worse and we kinda destroyed their cams, so no one will come looking for us.”

“Wish I could have been with you. Throw some biotics in their face.” Orla found a cooling pad and put it on his face. “Just be more careful next time. Don’t know what I’d be doing without you.”

Cyro let her have her way and didn’t complain about her overly concerned voice or the cooling pad that she held against his eye. Instead, he pulled his bag closer. “But I got something for you.”

Orla’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Hm, I know about your sweet tooth, sister.” To her absolute delight, Cyro handed her a chocolate bar. It didn’t look fresh any more and also covered with dust, but chocolate was chocolate and she hadn’t had any in months.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You’re the best and I’m willing to share.”

“Happy you said that.”

#orla shepard #cyro shepard #mass effect #headcanons

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dynamitaee · 3 years

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#just finished watching today's concert so i am in my feelings once more #but like how incredible is it that bangtan exists #like there's just these seven men hopefully sleeping soundly right now #and whatever happens like i know they love me and are rooting for me and want me to be okay #and it's just a band but it's not really #and i get a bit lost in the social media side of it all sometimes and it makes feelings flatten out #but then a concert like this happens and it's just like #italicised oh #and then they wear dumb glasses and chicken hats and make hearts with their flashlights and get emotional when talking about missing us #and I'm just like gdi you're my favourite people #i just wanna HUG like i know we all have many thots but fuck i just want a bangtan hug #i love them so much dude #i already miss them #ok that was emotions with flore please tune in next time for more teary nonsense #love you all goodnight i love bangtan

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hoseokmylovesworld · 5 years

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Picture of Love | 04

Pairing: Photographer!Hoseok x OC x Producer!Yoongi

Genre/Warnings: Hoseok AU/Yoongi AU/Includes strong language.

Words: 3,598

Summary: Charlotte Galloway is the leader of the up and coming girl band, “She-Bang”, with a side hustle as a photographer for anyone who will hire her. She meets a fellow professional photographer named Jung Hoseok who helps “She-Bang” realize their dreams and Charlotte to make a love connection along the way.

I walk back to my hotel room with only thoughts of J-Hope for the third time time this week, which meant I had that stupid ass grin on my face while stumbling down the halls of the sixth floor. I held the key card up to the lock on the door and walk in, in the hopes of hitting my bed headfirst. I was surprised to see my band members, Darren and Kyle sitting on the beds in Leyah's and my shared bedroom. They each stop talking and whip their heads in my direction as soon as I walk in.

"Oh. Hey...Everyone. What's up?" I say awkwardly, making my way to my bed that Carrie and Vicky are already sat on. Leyah, Darren and Kyle are perched on Leyah's bed. Vicky begins to speak.

"Uh, nothing. We were just talking about-"

"Where were you?" Darren cuts her off monotonously. "O-kay..." Vicky says to no one in particular. Carrie proceeds to rub Vicky's back in comfort.

"Why?" I question defensively, my bubbly, good mood ruined. Leyah groans as if she can already see where this is going, but doesn't comment.

"Well, you just left the group all of a sudden and we were worried." Darren looks me in the eye, raising his voice slightly. My face scrunches up in confusion and disbelief. Even if the group hadn't known where I was, Darren certainly could have told them, he saw me leave after all. I decide to leave that part out in my response.

"It wouldn't be the first time I 'left the group' Darren." I say using air quotes. "It's no big deal."

Darren's eyes go wide with accusation. "Yeah, but it's different this time because-" He stops himself. Leyah spares him a brief apologetic glance from the side. Kyle mirrors this expression.

"Because what?!" I urge, getting impatient.

"Ugh! Because you left with that strange guy!" He shouts. My shoulders slumped in disappointment.

Are you kidding me?

"Is that what this is about?" I nearly whisper, still trying to wrap my head around this situation.

"Yes--No!" Darren stumbled. His breathing picked up noticeably. "I just don't-"

"What Darren means to say is the band is a little bothered that you skipped out on us, especially when some hotshot photographer approached us and our leader wasn't there and Darren is pissed for God knows why." Leyah explained in one breath, which didn't seem to phase her.

Well, now I understand the intervention like setting, but that doesn't explain Darren's resentment.

Back up.

"So wait. A photographer approached you?" I said, wanting to get to the bottom of this and avoid another one of Darren's outbursts.

"Yeah." Leyah continued. "Offered to make those posters and pics for our website we been wantin' so bad. Also talked a big game about getting us in touch with some 'important people'." She explains with heavy lidded eyes and air quotes.

Oh wow. This could be great. A push in the right direction without the help of Evan whatsoever. I originally took "official" photos of the group and posted them to our website, but I'm no professional and this could benefit us in a variety of ways, especially if they get us in touch with these 'important people'.

"Well. Did he sell you? Did you all like him?" I look around at my members for confirmation, avoiding eye contact with Darren.

Leyah nods. "We exchanged information. By that I mean I gave him your number." She spoke in her usual monotonous drawl. I can't tell how she feels about the situation.

I sigh. "Well, that's good. I'm glad...Um. I'm sorry I wasn't there guys. Really." I say trying to get back on their good side, but I noticed the only face that was actually bothered was Darren's.

"It's okay Char, I handled it. Plus you couldn't have known." Forgiveness actually seeping into her tone, but she glared in Darren's direction while she spoke.

Ohhhhh-kay.

"And that's why you're second in command." I replied happily. She looks away form Darren to salute me causing the girls and I to laugh lightly. "So...Are we cool?" I look at the girls with hopeful eyes.

"Yeah."

"Sure."

"Of course."

"Okay. Cool. I'm gonna get ready for be-" Before I could finish, Darren exasperatingly made his way out of the hotel room, slamming the door for good measure. Kyle stands from the bed instinctively, but doesn't move to follow him.

"What. The. Fuck. Is his problem?" I don't bother to control my volume, being utterly shocked by Darren's behavior.

"I don't know. I'm going to bed. Night." Leyah sighs and goes to lie down and browse on her laptop. Kyle moves closer to the door and out of her way. "Night I guess." I say.

"Oh and Char?" Leyah turns to me. "Don't let him get to you okay?" Her eyes were serious. They were sympathetic, but they sent a warning. I just nod absentmindedly, not being able to tell if she was talking about Darren or J-Hope. Or both.

Kyle hesitates in front of the door before locking eyes with me. "I'm glad you're okay Char."

"Thank you."

"Goodnight everyone." He leaves silently, unlike his furious best friend next door.

"Night guys." Says Vicky as she moves into the family room and Carrie, surprisingly, follows her. "Night." I change and take off my makeup, change into my pj's, slide into bed and check my phone before going to sleep. I saw a heap of messages and missed calls from my band mates, Darren and Kyle.

Okay now I feel a little guilty. Maybe just wandering off was a bit much. But it was kind of worth it.

I see a text from J-Hope and my face immediately lights up.

J-Hope: Hey. I know I walked you to your hotel, but I just wanted to make sure you got up to your room okay.

Me: That has to be the lamest excuse a guy has ever made up to talk to me. *laughing face emoji*

J-Hope: I know lol, but it took me 15 minutes to come up with, gimme some credit. *crying face emoji*

J-Hope: Also is it working? *winking face emoji*

I laugh out loud and try to control my volume when Leyah whips her head at me because I startled her. "Sorry." She nods and continues her browsing.

Me: OK, good job J-Hope. I'm fine and maybe. Did you get in okay?

J-Hope: Yup not to long ago. Now I can sleep soundly, knowing you're okay.

I literally have to roll my eyes, but I end up smiling like an imbecile.

Me: You're so lame...But thank you for caring.

J-Hope: No problem. Hopefully when we do this again I can do more than just see you off and text you if you're alright. *winking face emoji*

I could just hear the vibrations of his deep voice as if he were standing in front of me right now.

God the devil is tempting me again.

"Don't let him get to you."

What can I do? Do I flirt back or do I let him down easy? There is no easy, we are in too deep. But Leyah's words and the promise we made with Carrie and Vicky a year and a half ago kept echoing in my head. The promise we made never to get involved in relationships or romance.

"Love is just a distraction." I said to them with a bitter bite to my voice. We sat in a circle on the living room floor of Leyah's parent's house. Carrie and Vicky came here because it's where we would rehearse, I came here because it's where I stayed.

We had just been enjoying a romantic movie after a successful rehearsal when I began to get emotional and start crying. Memories of my previous relationship haunting me the longer I watched this couple on the screen interact.

The girls, of course, comforted me and I ended up telling them my whole life story, the parts I hadn't already shared with them.

"It distracts you from your goals and being all that you can be. It makes you weak. We are not weak." The girls look at me like I'm an anomaly they have to figure out even though they've already known me for seven months. "We will be successful...right?" I look around to see thoughtful eyes and caring expressions. I could tell they took what I said to heart. They each started to nod one by one. Leyah reaches for my hand and mine latches around her's for strength. I can feel more tears begin to fall. "We will be successful Char. Thank you." She said, her eyes never leaving mine. I nod once.

"Let's make a promise from here on out. That we will not get mixed up in silly relationships or romance until we are where we belong. At the top." I say strongly. You wouldn't be able to tell I had been crying if it weren't for the tears streaks on my face.

The girls think it over. "I'm down. Promise." Leyah says first, smiling me. It gave me immense comfort seeing as she doesn't do it often. "Yeah, I guess that's fine." Vicky piped up. "As long as I can still have sex, you got yourself a promise Char." She chuckles. We all turn to Carrie. "Well, I've never really been in relationship anyway so...sure. I promise."

"Don't let him get to you." I whisper to myself. He already has. But I really don't want to let my girls down or make them feel like I'm going back on my word. I could tell him I'm not looking for a relationship right now and tell him to wait for me.

This man does not wait! He's off meettin' bitches in Dubai! Men like J-Hope, with so much to offer, don't wait, they take what they want. They either settle down or move on to the next.

Are we ready for that? To be a one man woman again and try the romance thing one more time? I know I haven't laughed the way I laughed tonight in an incredibly long time and J-Hope was the reason for that. He made me feel wanted and happy and appreciated. Shit I sound like air supply again.

But the fact that all of that can be felt on one not-date is remarkable to me. It took me five months to completely warm up to my last boyfriend, the shithead, and J-Hope managed to crack the code after three days for Christ's sake. I mean if J-Hope had leaned in any closer before he played the shit out of me and walked away, I 105% would have let him kiss me. God help me.

Maybe this is a sign that I should probably try again. Maybe I don't have to be so afraid of love anymore.

I just thought that word...and didn't cringe. Progress.

I was just a shell of a girl back then. Not knowing which way was up, just that I would get there. I had my heart torn apart and shredded and wanted nothing to do with bonding with new people or creating relationships in the slightest. So I didn't let anyone in for two years, had meaningless sex to fill the void, drank myself blind and wrote depressing songs to expel the painful thoughts.

But now...what was the point? It's been two years. Do I really want to be alone for the rest of my life? Can I force my friends to make the same sacrifices I did? I should never have done that to them, it wasn't right. I just hope they can forgive me for what I'm about to get myself into.

J-Hope: No problem. Hopefully when we do this again I can do more than just see you off and text you if you're alright. *winking face emoji*

Me: What if I told you there might be a strong possibility of that happening?

J-Hope texts back immediately.

J-Hope: I'd say what are you doing this Saturday? I snicker at his reply gaining a suspicious look from Leyah.

Me: I don't know. You wanna decide for me?

J-Hope: Yes please. *smiley face emoji* How about dinner and drinks? Gary Danko?

Dinner and drinks? At Gary Danko?! That's like a five star restaurant! I should have known he had this kind of money. I do a little squeal causing Leyah to turn to me once again. "Char please. Silence is key." Silence is the enemy.

"I'm sorry." I say and reply to J-Hope.

Me: That sounds great actually.

J-Hope: Great. I look forward to it.

Me: Me too. Goodnight J-Hope.

J-Hope: Didn't we do this already? *crying laughing emoji* OH god here we go.

Me: Yeah except this time I don't look like an idiot. *flat line mouth emoji*

J-Hope: You're the cutest idiot I've ever seen. I roll my eyes and let out a giggle. Fuck you Jung Hoseok.

Me: Goodnight J-Hope.

J-Hope: Goodnight Charlotte.

Lord what did I get myself into?

++++++++

I wake up the next morning knowing I had nothing in particular to do today.

Should I even leave the bed? Yes. I get up and get ready for the day, whatever it may bring. I get dressed and lounge on my bed once again, scrolling through social media on my phone. Our fans left some nice comments on different outlets.

Should I text J-Hope? I toss the question around in my head and decide that it wouldn't be smart. I already allowed him to get an idea of how I feel about him, I don't want to text him 24/7 and seem desperate. Maybe I'll make him wait until the weekend. That'll teach him for playing me.

But I hate not having anything to do, I need to stay busy. I can't just sit here and wait for my band mates to pester me about why I wandered off last night and tease me about where I was. I respond to a few fans online, then I grab my wallet, phone and camera and head for the door not knowing where I was going.

But when I open the door I'm met with Darren preparing to knock on the door, fist mid knock. He's almost as dumbfounded as I am when we face each other each other. "Uh, hey." He said in a low, unsure tone. His fist reaches up to the back of his neck and scratches nervously.

"Good morning." I reply strongly. "Excuse me." I say moving out of the room and trying to avoid this conversation. He moves further into my path and I glare up at him quizzically.

"Actually can we talk?" No. "Yeah, sure." I sigh. "They're sleeping, let's go somewhere." I move out and close the door behind me. "Okay. Where to?" He asks following me down the hallway to the elevator. "I don't know. You wanna get a drink?" We step into the elevator once it arrives.

"It's a bit early to be drinking Char." He drones in a judgmental but sarcastic tone.

He's not wrong, but-

"I meant like Starbucks genius."

"Oh! Sorry." Darren let's out a laugh and I follow suit. At least it's not as awkward in here with just the two of us now.

"But yeah that sounds good." Darren says looking down at me, meeting my eyes finally. I smile softly at him in turn and look away. We silently walk two blocks to a cafe near the hotel. We order separately because Darren knows my policies on letting other people pay for me. We sit with our orders and take a few sips each before Darren clears his throat.

"So I wanted to apologize." I just raise my eyebrows and nod once, gesturing for him to continue. "I'm sorry about last night. I acted out of turn and you didn't deserve that." I nodded not really knowing how to respond. Darren was behaving like a child last night and it wasn't appreciated, but he's usually a hot head and I wasn't expecting something like this.

"Um. It's okay, I guess." I left it there, not wanting to get into the actual dispute, knowing where the conversation would go.

"Good, I just-" Oh no. "Like I said, I was just worried because you walked away with that-that guy." He said the last word in disgust. Let's get this over with.

"I did apologize to the girls for that." He makes a face that suggest I might be mistaken about the topic of discussion. "I wasn't talking about-"

"Lemme finish, yeah?" Don't let him bring it up.

He pauses and nods and sits back in his seat. "I have to apologize to you as well. I'm sorry I ditched you guys at the concert last night and it won't happen again." He nods, still obviously bothered by something.

"I appreciate that, really." He says thoughtfully. "Of course." I take a sip of my coffee. Can I go now?

We sat in silence for a few moments when Darren opens his whore mouth.

"So are you dating the dude?" Fuck.

He looks at me hesitantly, like he was afraid of my answer. I would like to be, yes.

"No. Uh. He's just a friend. Why?" "Well you don't have many friends." "Well he's one of them." "Okay." We go back and forth.

He becomes flustered all of a sudden. He clears his throat and fiddles with his napkin on the table. At this moment I can see J-Hope enter the cafe looking from side to side. Is he sure he's not stalking me?

Should I call him over to get me out of this mess? Would that make matters worse? I mean we have to deal with Darren sometime anyway. We've been skirting around this for so long now. The fact that we were obviously attracted to each other. If Darren asked me to sleep with him a week ago and any time before that I would have obliged, but I'm starting to think Darren has something more serious in mind than a one night stand because of the way he's acted these past couple of weeks. And I've decided to give J-Hope a chance so that's been put on hold.

"Uh, I was wondering, since you're single, uh, I'm single, ha..." I'm cringing please help. Send help!

"And I know you don't date, but...is there any possibility that, uh, maybe w-we-"

"Charlotte!" Thank you God.

J-Hope ended up being my savior anyway. A sign?

J-Hope bounds over to me excitedly. He rests his hand on my shoulder. "Hey Char! We just keep meeting each other like this. Oh I'm sorry, I'm J-Hope, hello." He says turning to Darren and holding out his hand. Darren openly glares at J-Hope, but takes his hand. The knuckles on J-Hope's hand go almost white and he winces from the intensity of the handshake.

J-Hope frees himself from Daren's grip and I send Darren daggers with my eyes.

"J-Hope, this is my friend Darren. Sorry about him, he's had a tragic day so far." I say emoting contempt in Darren's direction.

"Yeah, it's uh, nice to meet you." J-Hope muttered composing himself. "I remember you from the blues hall." J-Hope quickly pointed at Darren at his epiphany. "Likewise." Darren interrupts his glare at J-Hope to send a suggestive glance at me. I can practically hear the gears turning in J-Hope's head judging by his expression. He keeps looking back and forth between Darren and I and I can see a look of regret on his face, probably for intruding on this 'moment' between Darren and I.

No no no no no no!

"Okaaayyyy. I'm gonna go now. It was nice meeting you Darren and nice seeing you again Charlotte--Oh! We're still on for Saturday right?"

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.

Darren's eye brows touch the ceiling and his eyes go wide. J-Hope is turned away from Darren and thankfully cannot see this. "Uh--Yes. Yes we are...yup." I say looking down at the table. "Okay. See you then. Bye guys." He walks away to get his coffee leaving me in this shit stain of a predicament. I watch him exit as Darren watches his own fiddling fingers.

"Just friends huh?" He grunts with a sick to his stomach look on his face.

Hold the fuck up! He's mad at me again?!

"Hold on! That's none of your business anyway! I don't have to prove myself to you!" I say raising my voice, blinded too much by anger to remember we were in public.

"I just don't understand-!" He shouts back. Darren's volume matches mine, but he stops himself, huffs out a huge breath I didn't know he was holding and plops his hands down on the table loudly.

"You're right Char." He says calmly. "I fucking know." I say still full of adrenaline. Darren let's out a bitter chuckle. What the fuck?

"I'm just gonna go. See ya later." He takes his coffee and leaves the shop.

Well shit. We came here together, now I have to sit here with this crowd who just witnessed my public 'domestic argument'. Plus he looks pissed and a little hurt. I have to fix this somehow before things get awkward. But I also don't feel like making even more of a scene than we already did by following him. I also just don't feel like doing this.

#j-hope fanfic #suga fanfic #junghoseok #minyoongi #bts #btsfanfiction #AMBW #humour #kpop #sugardaddyj-hope

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worryinglyinnocent · 6 years

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Fic: The Darkness Within (30/?)

Summary: When washed-up paranormal investigator Rum Gold meets Belle French, he does not quite know what to make of her claim of a supernatural presence in her life, but sensing her genuine fear, he begins to investigate. What he uncovers shakes the cynicism he has so long held to its very core, and he calls in the help of disgraced ex-priest Father Macavoy to help him lay some demons to rest…

A slow burn, eventual rumbellavoy. The rating may increase in later chapters.

Rated: M

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [Thirteen] [Fourteen] [Fifteen] [Sixteen] [Seventeen] [Eighteen] [Nineteen] [Twenty] [Twenty-One] [Twenty-Two] [Twenty-Three] [Twenty-Four] [Twenty-Five] [Twenty-Six] [Twenty-Seven] [Twenty-Eight] [Twenty-Nine] [AO3]

=====

Thirty

Gold looked down at Belle sleeping soundly in his arms, nuzzled in against his shoulder, her arm draped over his bare chest protectively. She looked so beautiful and so peaceful, and he knew that no matter what happened, he could never bring himself to regret what they had just done.

The voice at the back of his mind that reminded him of Ella was telling him that it was too soon, that they were going too fast, and they were in the middle of something that neither of them really understood, messing with something that might well want to cause them harm. Gold shook his head, trying to get the voice to go away.

Perhaps it was inevitable that sharing a bed with Belle would eventually lead to sex. He hadn’t planned on it happening quite so soon, but now that it had happened, he didn’t feel that it was too soon. They were comfortable enough around each other to sleep in the same bed, after all.

Belle had been staying overnight for four days now, and they had moved seamlessly from Belle migrating to Gold’s bed in the dead of night to them both sleeping in the same bed from the start. True, this wasn’t getting anything done in the way of experimenting with the entity, but at least Belle was getting some much needed restful sleep, and Gold, well, he was just enjoying having another warm body to hold at night for the first time in a very long time.

It had happened so naturally tonight. They had settled down to sleep as normal, and after turning out her light and plunging them into a darkness that for once was kind and comfortable and held no fear, Belle had leaned over to kiss Gold goodnight, as had become her habit ever since she had begun to share his bed. Gold had grown to love that little goodnight kiss. It made it seem like sharing a bed was something that they did because they were in a long established relationship rather than for any other more complicated reasons like trying to prevent Belle from having nightmares. It was like when they went out for their little dates at Granny’s and pointedly avoided talking about anything that was related to the supernatural. Right now, with the case taking up so much time in his waking hours, Gold was quite happy for his nights to contain as little of it as possible. So, they had kissed goodnight as usual.

They just hadn’t stopped, their kiss becoming more and more heated as Belle brought her hands up to card in Gold’s hair, and he slipped his arms around her to pull her in closer. Then all of a sudden her legs were entangled with his, and her breasts were pressing against his chest, and his cock was beginning to stir.

Neither of them had pulled away, worried that it was too soon or too risky what with everything else that had happened over the past few weeks. Neither of them wanted to. It was risky and it was quick, and Ella and Joseph would probably despair of the pair of them if they were to find out what had happened this evening, but Gold didn’t care. It had felt so right at the time, and he knew that Belle felt the same way. She’d told him so before she’d dropped off to sleep, not letting go of him, the sated expression on her face not dying away as she finally gave in to that blissful oblivion, no longer fearful of going to sleep and what the night might bring.

“Thank you,” she had whispered to him. “Thank you for making me feel beautiful and desirable again.”

“It was my pleasure,” he had replied, tilting her chin up so that he could capture another kiss from her. “And you have never been anything other than beautiful and desirable.”

That was perfectly true. Whilst he had not necessarily considered the idea of pursuing a relationship with her when he had first met her in the bar those many weeks before, he could not deny that she had been attractive then, even with the pale, pinched look on her face and the dark circles under her eyes, ones that were finally beginning to fade. As he had got to know her better, so her loveliness had only increased in his eyes, to the point where he was now lying naked in his bed with her.

As satisfied as he was with what had just occurred from his own point of view, Gold was just pleased that he had been able to help Belle relax, and a small part of him, long since buried beneath the veneer of his work and the prickly facade that did not invite intimacy of any kind, preened to know that whatever scant skill in the bedroom he had possessed before, he had not lost in the intervening years.

Gold readjusted his hold on Belle, stroking the pale expanse of her back beneath the covers and smoothing her dark hair out of her face. She did look so lovely like this, happy and satisfied and completely at ease. When she was like this it was easy to forget the thing that had brought them together in the first place. It was easy to forget that they were dealing with something far beyond either of their ken and their ability to deal with. Gold knew, objectively, that he ought to bear that in mind, but he couldn’t help his thoughts wending away from their strange case and back in the direction of the intimacy that they had just shared in the darkness.

It hadn’t been the most mind-blowing of intimate encounters. There was all of the shyness and nervous fumbling that always went with the first time with a new partner. Gold didn’t care. He was there with Belle, and she was on top of him, taking her pyjama top off with a light blush suffusing her cheeks as she took his hands and put them on her breasts. He hadn’t needed any further invitation after that.

Gold closed his eyes, remembering the events that followed like a dream. Belle’s hands tugging off his t-shirt and mapping his chest, her blue eyes dark with desire. Her mouth on his as she rubbed up against him. The way she bit her bottom lip with a question in her face, asking if wanted to go any further, if he was all right, if he thought they were moving too quickly.

“No,” he had said, capturing her lips once more as he tipped her over onto her back.

It hadn’t moved the earth, Gold hadn’t expected it to. He was more impressed with the fact that he had condoms that were in date rather than anything else they might have got up to. He’d almost put the thing on inside out in his distraction, but Belle didn’t seem to mind the delay as she helped him get himself sorted out. And oh, once he was inside her, it was heaven, and it made up for all the awkwardness that had come before. Belle had welcomed him readily and it almost felt like coming home. As he had come with her name on his lips and her legs hooked around his hips, he didn’t think he’d ever want to be anywhere else.

Belle shifted in her sleep, digging her fingers into his side a little and rubbing her nose in against his shoulder. There was a little smirk on her face, a cheeky expression, and Gold smiled. It didn’t seem like she was in any danger of screaming herself awake tonight. Sex as a tool for better sleep. Was that a recommended method of curing insomnia? It seemed to work for Belle at any rate, although it wasn’t doing much for him. Wasn’t it men who were supposed to roll over and fall asleep as soon as the deed was done?

Not that they had rolled over as soon as the deed was done. They’d lain there in the cooling for a long time before Belle had begun to drop off. Kissing, touching, caressing, still marvelling at what had just happened and the fact that it had felt so good and so right in spite of whatever misgivings they might have had.

Hopefully, it was a sign of good things to come.

Gold woke with a distinct sense of unease. He hadn’t really remembered falling asleep; not that he usually remembered falling asleep, but he had been unusually awake after he and Belle had made love and he had been enjoying lying there in the darkness with Belle in his arms. On the previous occasions they had slept together he had ended up spooning her, his erection pressing into her arse, much to her amusement. It had been nice to get a little closer to her and feel her arms around him, instead of the other way around.

Her arms weren’t around him now, although he could still feel that her weight was in the bed beside him so she must just have rolled over away from him in her sleep and was curled up on her side like she normally slept.

Gold pulled the covers up over his exposed chest where the skin was turning to gooseflesh. Something sent a shiver down his spine, and he didn’t think that it was the cool temperature in the bedroom. It was a shiver of fear, like the sensation of being watched, and it froze him in place, preventing him from simply turning over and curling up with Belle again, taking her in his arms and burying his face in the back of her neck against the world. Unwilling to take his gaze away from the ceiling, Gold nevertheless forced himself to look over in the direction of the window. As had become his custom, he had left the drapes a little way open, allowing a thin sliver of moonlight to illuminate the bedroom but more importantly, allowing him to see at a glance if any shadows were peeping in on him. For a moment he wondered if the shadow had seen what he and Belle had been doing earlier, before he decided that he really didn’t want to follow that train of thought.

There was nothing outside the window, and Gold breathed a sigh of relief. He was just being paranoid. There was nothing to worry about.

He stretched out his limbs and rolled over, and his heart stopped.

Belle was sitting up in bed beside him.

Except, it wasn’t Belle.

It should have been Belle. To all intents and purposes, it was Belle. She looked like Belle in all respects. The same skin, the same hair, the same pert little breasts on display where the covers were bunched at her waist.

But there was nothing of Belle in her eyes. Pitch black, no whites or intensely blue irises, just the deepest and most soulless darkness that Gold had ever seen in all his years. Any trace of Belle was lost in those pure black eyes, staring at him with an unnerving stillness of manner. Gold was not a religious man and never had been, but there was something about those eyes that he knew was instinctively evil.

“Belle?” he whispered, his voice choking around the single word. It wasn’t Belle. He knew it wasn’t Belle. Something in the back of his mind gave a sharp, shrill bark of humourless laughter. They had begun this experiment, with Belle sleeping in Gold’s house, to try and allow him a glimpse of the entity in its natural state. Now, he was definitely face to face with it and he suddenly wanted to be anywhere else in the world. He could certainly understand why Belle’s father had found the sight so unnerving and wouldn’t speak to her about it.

The entity shook its head, and Gold couldn’t decide if seeing it move was more or less unnerving than seeing it totally still had been. Its mouth curled up into something that on Belle herself would have been a smile, but that now just looked terrifying.

“I’m sorry,” it said, and Gold recognised the chilling voice that had spoken when Belle had been hypnotised in Dr Hopper’s office and the entity had taken control. “Belle’s not here at the moment.”

Gold was petrified. When he had envisaged tackling the entity head on, he’d previously assumed that there would be a handy bedroom door between it and him and that he would have at least some clothes on at the time. He’d never felt more vulnerable, and he realised that the entity had probably been counting on that. Belle had said she was afraid that it was up to something. She was right. It had been biding its time, waiting for them to get close enough. So close. As close as they could possibly get.

“It’s been a long time, Rum,” the entity said. “You evaded me for such a long time. Don’t go anywhere, dearie. You and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold #Fic: The Darkness Within #kind of jump scare halfway through the chapter

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spider-moon-princess · 6 years

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Time Travel CH 6

Eeeeeeeeee, I love reading all your reactions! It makes me so happy my writing makes people feel the intended emotions I had in mind while I wrote it! Thank you everyone! I hope to write more this weekend! BTW, I made a unique tag for this fic, you can find all the parts under the “time travel Souji au” tag if you need to read the other sections.

Part Five

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

Toshizō glared at a grinning Souji. “Wait, he’s real?”

Souji shook his hands again, like before when he was teasing Heisuke. "No, Kondō-san and I are both figments of your imagination, Hi~ji~kata-sa~n. I'm here to haunt you for hitting on Chizuru-chan~."

"Th' hell are you talking about?!" Toshizō snarled, surprised that his hands could grip his shirt.

"I saw that Chizuru-chan gave you that notebook. She wrote a note in it and you replied with a poem." There was a hint of jealousy in his voice. Even though it wasn't his Chizuru (nor was Chizuru his at all in his time), there was a part of him that couldn't help but be annoyed that the others saw Chizuru as a woman.

Toshizō's face was growing redder by the moment. Whether it was anger or embarrassment, neither Souji or Kondō could tell. "Kondō-san, I'll kill him if he's not already dead!" There was a very small part of him that was laughing at this, glad to see Souji, but it didn't show.

"Maa, maa, Toshi! Souji!" Kondō pulled them apart. "Toshi, I swear I wasn't trying to hide Souji from you, I just...wasn't sure how to tell you." Kondō scratched at his cheek, feeling rather embarrassed and apologetic that he'd kept Souji's presence a secret from someone he trusted so much.

"Wasn't much of a secret...I knew you were hiding something from me since you've been avoiding me all day." Toshizō sighed and crossed his arms. "You walked the other way when I tried to say good morning."

Kondō laughed and patted his shoulder. "Well, I believe an explanation is warranted."

---

Toshizō cleared his throat. "So, you're tellin' me this little bastard," he pointed at Souji, who was currently distracted with the clicky pen he'd stolen from his desk, which he now noticed was actually his. Plus, the sound was getting on his nerves. "Just dropped onto Yukimura's living room floor out of nowhere? And that he's from the 1800's?"

"You're actually really slow at catching on, just like the other Hijikata-san." Souji looked up from the pen and gave him an impish smile.

"You little shit." Toshizō growled, but there was a hint of affection in his tone. He was having trouble telling the difference between this Souji and the one he had known. He had to remember that it wasn't him, and that part really ate away at him.

"For the time being, Yukimura-kun and I thought it was best to keep him a secret, after all, it's not easy to explain." Kondō sighed, looking over at Souji. "I want to keep him here for a few days to keep an eye on his health."

"Ne, Kondō-san, Heisuke also knows." Souji clicked the pen once more. The noise and the object fascinated him. Kondō-san had mentioned it was a writing utensil. It was more convenient than a brush and ink.

Before Souji could click it once more, Toshizō grabbed it from him. "This is mine, stop stealing things.” He stuffed the pen in his pocket, it had been part of a set, a gift from Souji the last Christmas they’d been together. “So, Heisuke and Yukimura know right now..." He remained pensive. "Souji, stay in the damn room while we think of how to break this to Harada, Nagakura, Sannan-san, Saito, Yamamzaki and Gen-san. We don't need rumors starting up that there's a ghost in the hospital."

"You're no fun, Hijikata-san." Souji crossed his arms and pouted. The two men were reminded of their Souji. It made them feel joy and sadness.

"Toshi's right, Souji. This is a delicate matter..." Kondō reached for the TV remote. "I have to get home to the wife and kids soon, so unfortunately, I can't keep you company." He looked hopefully at Toshi.

Toshizō shook his head. "I can't stay. Let the TV keep him company. I'll be back early tomorrow morning to keep an eye on him."

"I'm not a child that needs to be watched." Souji rolled his eyes, but the word "TV" wasn't in his vocabulary. He had to know what it was. "What's this "tee-bee" you keep talking about?"

Kondō's expression brightened as he went into detail about "television." He showed him how to use the remote and talked about some of his favorite shows. "Once we let everyone know, I'll take you to a movie theater, Souji."

Souji gave him a genuine smile. "That sounds great, Kondō-san. I would like that."

Toshizō and Kondō exited the room after reminding him that he had to stay in the room. “Kondō-san,” His violet eyes glanced over at him as they walked out of the hospital.

“Yes, Toshi?”

“That’s not our Souji.” He reminded him. Toshizō was also reminding himself of this.

“I know, but he doesn’t have anyone here, it’s just us, Toshi. I want to make him as comfortable as I can.”

Sighing, Toshizō nodded and shrugged, bidding him a goodnight.

----

An hour of staring of the screen with the moving pictures was all it took Souji to become restless again.

“That’s not how you kill a man.” He grumbled to himself as he watched a Samurai movie playing on TV. “The blood didn’t even get on him, what is this? Fake murder?” He flipped the channel just as Kondō-san had taught him. Everything and nothing caught his eyes, but he just couldn’t stay still. He wanted to see who else he could bump into.

Though, he could hear Kondō-san’s warning in his head. He should listen to him.

But then he wouldn’t know what the others were like for himself.

Souji put on the surgical mask again and made his way to Hijikata-san’s office to steal the lab coat. If he wore that, people would probably leave him alone to wander and let him in parts of the hospital only doctors could enter, he hoped.

He stood in front of a map of the hospital, wondering where he should start. Where would the others hang out?

Dorm. That must be where the hospital staff went to sleep when they had 24-hour shifts, as he heard Chizuru mention earlier while she was talking to Heisuke outside his room.

Nodding to himself, he headed over, a little excitement coursing through him.

The lights were off in one of the rooms. Let’s try this one, he thought, opening the door as quietly as he could. The room was very simple, white walls, a bunk bed with two bunks, navy blue curtains in front of the window and a bedside table with a lamp on it.

On the bottom bunk, he recognized the male that was sleeping so soundly. Hajime-kun? It certainly looked like him. He had fallen asleep in his white lab coat, navy pants and white button up shirt.

Souji crept over and kneeled down to stare at him at eye level. This Hajime-kun slept so soundly, without a care in the world. If he had tried to sneak up on his Hajime-kun, there would’ve been a sword at his throat before he could’ve made it to the bed. Chuckling quietly, he decided to introduce himself to him. “Ha~ji~me-kun~!” He whispered.

Hajime shifted slightly in his sleep, but he didn’t wake.

He tried again, whispering louder. “Ha-ji-me-kun!”

Hajime remained still, which made Souji wonder if he had actually woken up. He reached out to poke him and his finger ended up in his tight grasp.

Hajime was glaring at the source of the disturbance, but his dark blue eyes quickly widened. He released Souji’s finger as he sat up. “S-Souji?”

Part Seven

#time travel souji au #okita souji #hakuouki #hakuoki

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