Barry saved the day. No surprise
there. You were glad the bomber had been caught and brought to justice. The
pain had finally subsided, but it had left you exhausted and sore. Caitlin
finally had given you the okay to leave the medical bay, but not quite leave
STAR Labs yet so she could check in on you later.
A house for Silas Moonfeather and a yet-to-be-determined roommate (so the upstairs bedroom is as yet unfurnished) in the desert neighborhood. Still have to do the landscaping, but the building itself is done. It was supposed to be a long, skinny 1x4 lot, but I had to make it a bit too wide to deal with roof oddities, so now it’ll be 2x4; I’ll just fill in the extra space with haphazard “landscaping.” :)
It’s a weird design, by design. I wanted it to essentially be two separate studio “apartments” but with a small shared living area and kitchen. So, it has two big ensuite bedrooms and the rest is sort of squished. :)
There’s also some stuff that needs recoloring, of course. *sigh*
Members: Yoongi and Hoseok focus. All members featured.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Light smut in later chapters
Blurb: College/University AU | Cheon Yuna is your average University student, perhaps aside from how hardworking she is. What will happen when she has to move into a new building and live with a group of boys she’s never met?
I let out a rather unattractive huff as I heave two boxes into the lift and rest them on top of my suitcase. Adjusting the guitar on my back, I press the button for floor 5 and get my breath back as the doors slide shut and feel myself rising up.
The place is a fairly standard university flat set up. The buildings had six floors with eight dorms on each floor, which are separated into two flats. Each group of four, flat A and B, shares a small-ish kitchen and living area, plus a toilet and shower. There are a few other buildings with the same layout. It’s not very new, with some fairly grimy windows and really bad noise insulation, but it’s good value for money, and a fifteen minute walk to classes isn’t bad.
The thing is, until two weeks ago, I was living quite happily in some of the nicest accommodation at the University, and had just become quite friendly with the others there. Unfortunately, after a series of safety and planning issues with the building, it was announced that I and a fair few others would have to move out and be redistributed among other accommodation sites.
I had been left with two options: Move to the site furthest from campus and have to commute in by bus, or move to ‘Park Plaza’.
The thing was, in Park Plaza, each floor was either girls’ or boys’ floors: 2, 4 and 6 were girls’ and 1, 3 and 5 were boys’, and the only available room was on floor 5.
The pastoral care advisor had acted as though the idea of putting a girl on a boys’ floor was the greatest sin known to man, but it was my choice. I decided that convenience was more important, and I could deal with living with the opposite sex. My previous flat was mixed, and though the boys were messier, it wasn’t so bad.
So, here I am, moving into the fifth floor of Park Plaza, building two.
I know I’m a pretty adaptable person, so I’m not too worried, but I can’t help the slight trepidation in my chest. It’s all well and good meeting flatmates for the first time, but these three boys have been living together for a while already, making me the odd one out.
‘As long as they’re not psychopaths, I guess…’
Once I get there I drag my belongings out and across to the left, to the door marked ‘5A’. I have a key to the place in my pocket, but I’m not sure whether to just stroll in for the first time, so I quickly knock three times.
I think I hear some kind of movement from within the flat, but when no one answers, I take out the keys and open the door myself.
“Um.. hello?” I say to no one.
As I pull my suitcase in behind me, I set my stuff down and take a glance around. It’s pretty plain, with neutral tones and a worn out carpet. There are five identical doors, one of which must be to the bathroom, and then one door with glass panes around it to my left. It’s from behind this door that I hear some voices and movement, confirming my suspicion that it must be the kitchen and living area.
It’s just as my eyes come to rest on that door that the voices abruptly stop, and the door is swung open by one of the boys as he comes stumbling out into the hall. He’s fairly tall with a healthy lean figure, and his hair is dark and flops softly over the sides of his forehead. But the most striking thing about this young man is the bright, vibrant smile across his face.
“Oh! Uh, hello - you’re finally here!” He grins, clearly a little awkward but sincere in his friendliness. “I’m Hoseok.”
“Hi! I’m Yuna, nice to meet you,” I return his smile.
I know at least one of the other boys is in the kitchen, and I suspect they heard me come in and threw Hoseok out here to suss me out. Thankfully, he seems very friendly, and the nervousness in my chest is somewhat alleviated.
“Do you want to come in and meet the others?” He poses, gesturing to the kitchen door behind him.
I nod sure and follow him in, looking around curiously. It’s not the most spacious kitchen, but for four people it’s certainly enough. There are also two sofas forming an L shape, with a small TV opposite one, then a plain table with four chairs. It’s quite cosy, and despite a few bits of clutter and food around, it’s pretty tidy, too.
“Were you expecting a boys’ flat to be messier?” A voice speaks, drawing my attention. It comes from a broad shouldered boy with a pretty face. “I’m Jin, welcome to our flat,” he smiles charmingly. He has an aura of calmness and composure about him as he stands over the stove.
I return his introduction, and then turn to the third boy. He’s perched on the arm of a sofa, and has a delicately handsome face with attractive hooded eyes, and I can’t help but notice that despite looking young, his arms and shoulders are rather muscular.
“I’m Jungkook,” he says with a shy smile, a little more reserved than the other two.
“Hi, it’s really good to meet you all! I was nervous about this, since I’m kind of barging in on your lives,” I admit, smiling sheepishly.
“Oh don’t worry, it feels too empty with just three people!” Hoseok replies as he walks over to the kitchen counter and perches on the edge of it. “And besides, you already seem an improvement on the guy we had in that room before.”
Jungkook laughs and nods at this, and though I notice Jin holding back a smirk, he seems to not want to speak badly of this mystery ex-flatmate. “Don’t exaggerate, he wasn’t that bad.”
I giggle at the other two boys as they scrunch their faces up at this.
“Well I’ll do my best to be a good flatmate!” I turn my attention back to Jin, who is stirring some chopped vegetables in a pan. “Do you mind if I ask what you’re cooking?”
“Oh? Do you like to cook?” He raises an eyebrow.
“I’m no professional, but.. Well, actually I’m pretty good,” I say, nodding with a fake cockiness.
This makes him grin widely. “Yes! Finally another chef in the flat! I need someone else who appreciates the finer things.”
I laugh at this, genuinely happy at the prospect.
“Hey, and I saw you have a guitar, too!” Hoseok says. “We love music; you’ll have to play for us sometime! Jungkookie is a really good singer.”
“Oh? I look forward to hearing that!” I reply, smiling when I see the boy in question blushing and shaking his head furiously, to the laughter of the other two.
As I ease into friendly chatter with the boys, I’m able to relax. They seem… really nice.
‘Maybe moving here won’t be such a bad thing after all…’
One month later
Tucking one earphone in and pressing shuffle on my ‘morning’ playlist, I shrug on my jacket and backpack and then leave my dorm room, checking one last time that I have my keys. With a glance at my watch to confirm I’m on time, I step in front of the door next to mine, ear close to it, and knock twice.
“Jungkookie,” I say in a voice that’s gentle, but loud enough to be heard. “It’s 8:40 so make sure you get up soon! …You hear me?”
I pause until I hear a soft groan of acknowledgement from within, then walk back past my dorm and out of the main door of the flat, which is marked ‘5A’.
I take the lift down to the ground floor, yawning away the sleepiness in my eyes. Once there, I step out of the building, enjoying the warmth of the early spring sun, despite a slight cold breeze.
A now familiar voice calls my name. I look over to see Hoseok wearing sweats and a vest, red faced and out of breath, waving as he walks toward me.
“Hey! Been out on another morning run?” I smile, ever in admiration of his dedication to fitness in his pursuit of dance.
“Yep! I don’t have class till 9:30,” he smiled, wiping beads of sweat from his brow.
“Ah, Kookie is the same, make sure he wakes up okay?” I say, starting to walk backwards from him in the direction of campus. “I’m in at 9 so I’ll see you later!”
He nods, continuing toward our flat.
“Oh, and you should come jogging with me next time!” He shouts, before he gets to the doors to the building.
With a short laugh, I answer him without turning back, raising a hand above my head. “Ne-ver gonna happen!” As always, talking to him leaves me with a big grin on my face.
All things considered, I was pretty damn lucky to end up with such amiable boys. In the month we had now lived together, we were very close.
Hoseok was this bright, loveable spirit who brought energy. He was simultaneously like both an older and younger brother. Jin was affectionately dubbed ‘Jin eomma’ due to his nurturing sensibilities and as he was a year older than the rest of us, having taken a gap year. Finally, Jungkook, though shy at first, soon revealed himself to be a lot of fun (almost as loud as Hoseok, sometimes), and we soon discovered a shared love for video games. Though the boys say I’m too hard working, Jungkook is definitely a contender for the top spot, often too harsh on himself.
We relaxed together, laughed together and came to understand the little quirks we all had. It was good.
Flat 5A couldn’t be better.
Unfortunately, only a few minutes after taking a seat in my morning lecture, I’m reminded of the other side of my luck.
Rushing in late ofcourse, his flash of orange hair drawing all eyes to the door, is Jimin.
Park Jimin of flat 5B, the nightmare neighbours.
He throws the lecturer a shameless grin before dropping into a free seat. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the handful of girls who are so obvious in their gawking at him. He makes a right show of taking off his jacket, too.
‘Sure, the kid has muscles. Get over it.’
I turn my attention away from him and back to the teacher. To be fair to Jimin, he’s not the worst of the bunch.
I could summarise them all in one word.
Jimin: Narcissist, Taehyung: Idiot, Namjoon: Arrogant, and then Yoongi: ..Complicated.
Yoongi was more difficult to pin down. But he was undoubtedly the most infuriating.
My problem with 5B was born from when I first met them…
(A few days ago)
“Okay seriously? They’re really pushing it tonight.” I say out loud to the darkness of my room.
I slam the button on my bedside clock to illuminate the display for the tenth time since I got into bed. 2:47 AM. I’m not even close to being able to fall asleep.
I lay there for a few moments, staring up into the dark. The low thumping of music reverberates through the walls from across the hall, and the sounds of drunken shouts, cheers and terrible singing cut into my room. Every now and then the sounds are amplified briefly when someone there opens the front door.
Rarely do I hold grudges, and rarely would I complain upfront about something like this, but the flat opposite ours has been irritating me to no end ever since I moved in. If they just had noisy parties on, say, Friday nights, or if everyone got the hell out and went clubbing in town at around midnight, I’d be fine with it. But no. Three nights in a row now, I haven’t been able to go to bed when I want to.
On top of that, the boys (my boys, that is; Hobi, Kookie and Jin) have told me that 5B has had somewhat of a reputation for such behaviour since the beginning of the year. They’re quite the little clique, it seems. I’ve seen them around from time to time, once or twice in a bar or club or around the shops and restaurants in town; sometimes one or two on their own, sometimes all four together.
But I definitely heard them. All too often.
‘Don’t they have work to do? ..Don’t they sleep?!’
My patience is gone. With one last exasperated sigh, I roll over and get out of bed, turning on my bedside light. I grab my big hoodie and put it on to cover my pyjama-d state, then leave my dorm room and walk over to our flat’s front door. With a quick breath to steel myself, I open it and storm across the corridor and to the door marked ‘5B’.
The music is twice as loud from here.
Now that I’m here, I suddenly want to just turn back and go wallow in self pity, but I shake myself, remembering that I have every right to be annoyed. Three nights in a fucking row.
I knock quite aggressively, my reasoning being that they wouldn’t hear me over the party otherwise. When there’s no immediate answer, I hammer my fist against the wood again, not letting up until it disappears from under my hand.
The door is swung open, and I come face to face with the infamous Jimin.
His hair is still stupidly orange.
“Uhh, hi?” He says uncertainly, looking me up and down with a little less subtlety than I would have liked. He’s probably wondering why a random girl has turned up to a party dressed like this – I doubt he recognises me.
Folding my arms across my chest a little defensively, I get to the point. “Don’t worry, I’m not here for the party or whatever. I live across in 5A, and-”
“Right, one second,” he interrupts me, and I raise an eyebrow obviously, unimpressed.
He turns away from me and walks toward their kitchen door. I glance into the flat behind him, and it’s a mirror image of my own, though noticeably messier. There are a few drunk people in the hallway, including a couple who are making out aggressively in the corner, but the main source of noise comes from the kitchen. The boy named Taehyung is leaning over a girl who’s got her back against the wall, whispering in her ear and running a hand up and down her hip.
“Yoongi! Door.” Jimin shouts into the kitchen. When the boy I recognise as Yoongi appears, Jimin mutters “some girl,” gesturing at me, before disappearing into the other room.
‘So what, do the others report to this Yoongi guy or something?’
At this point I’m getting more irritated. Yoongi turns to me, walking over with a kind of lazy swagger, running a hand across his face. He’s wearing ripped jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt. It would look scruffy on some people, but it seems to work as his ‘look’. When he’s at the door, he leans a shoulder on the frame, hands in his pockets. He’s not especially tall; my eyes are around level with his jaw.
“Good evening. How can I be of assistance?” He asks. His voice is a kind of drawl, giving this impression of sarcasm and superiority.
I hesitate for a split second – this is the first time I’ve properly seen him up close, let alone spoken with him. His tousled blond hair frames a surprisingly… angelic face. His skin is pale and smooth, and his eyes have a certain depth and mystery about them.
But then I hear someone behind him smash a glass, and I remember my irritation.
“Well, I guess I had to wait to talk to the manager or something?” I say sarcastically, but he ignores this, so I clear my throat and continue. “I’m from flat 5A across the hall.”
“How? Floor five is a boys’ floor,” he asks, though he doesn’t seem particularly interested in the answer.
“I had to move in a while ago. Long story.” I say impatiently. “I’m here to talk about the noise lately.”
As I’m about to continue, he cuts in with a laugh. “Ah, straight to the point, eh? Nice.”
He seems all too amused by the situation, and I’m beginning to get sick of being interrupted. Other than a brief frown of annoyance, I ignore his comment.
“Anyway, look. You guys have been really noisy for the past few nights, and it’s getting pretty disruptive. I don’t know if you pulled this kind of shit regularly before I moved in, but I won’t just act like it doesn’t bother me. You can make noise every now and then, but keeping me up till three or four in the morning, three days in a row?”
He takes his time to respond, simply considering me for a bit. I keep my arms crossed tightly. There’s something about his gaze that’s unnerving.
“Yeah, these three nights were for Namjoon’s birthday.” He says with a slight shrug. As if that’s some kind of answer.
“What kind of birthday lasts three days?” I snap.
A smirk tugs up one corner of his lips at this, enraging me further.
I narrow my eyes. I don’t like him implying that I’m some kind of boring, stuck up prude. I can have fun, I can drink. I just find most parties and such are so drab and tiresome, full of narcissists and attention seekers. And I don’t take pride in disrupting other people’s lives.
“You wanna come in and join us?” He asks.
“I- What?” I frown for a second. His odd question throws me off, but I quickly regain control and scoff back at him. “No. As if.”
Yoongi gives an exaggerated shrug.
“Your loss. Anyway, my point was that since this was for his birthday, we’ll be laying off a little more after tonight. Go back to normal, you know.” He finishes his sentence through a yawn, which irks me as he doesn’t cover his mouth and I wrinkle my nose at the smell of alcohol on his breath.
“Right, fine. I just thought I’d say something.” I reply, taking a step back. To be honest, I just want to get back to bed now. I can hardly demand that he throw everyone out of the party. “Any chance of you lot turning the music down tonight? Just a little?”
He hums, stretching his neck and looking at me sideways. Then he inexplicably leans his upper body forward, bringing his face closer to mine.
“Maybe, just for you.” He raises an eyebrow coyly, the smirk still on his face.
What is he playing at? The borderline flirtatious comment makes my back stiffen slightly, and I’m about to retaliate, but decide it’s not worth it. He’s drunk anyway.
I turn on my heel and walk the short distance to the door of my own flat, and just as I get within a few feet of it, my stomach hits the floor. I’ve forgotten to bring my key. And I’m going to look like a complete idiot if I have to knock on the door or call someone in front of Yoongi.
Panicking, I turn around and very deliberately meet his eyes across the lobby.
“What, are you watching to make sure I actually live here?” I say, cringing internally at how standoffish I sound.
Thankfully, he simply shrugs, laughing resignedly, and goes back into his own flat, shutting the door loudly behind him. I let out a deep sigh and turn back to 5A, taking out my phone and hitting the name in my contacts. He picks up after five rings.
“Hobi? I’m really sorry to wake you up. Can you come open the front door for me?”
A bleary-eyed Hoseok opens our door moments later, and I go inside eagerly.
“Why- I mean, where have you been? Are you okay?” He whispers, so as not to wake the others. His hair is adorably ruffled from sleep.
“5B were still keeping me awake! I went to go confront them.”
“You should have told me! I’d have come with you to intimidate them,” He says, jokingly holding up his fists.
I giggle quietly into my hand at his antics. “Oh, please! Hobi, I know you’re probably fitter than all of them, but you knowyou’re way too cute to go intimidate strangers,” I tease, pushing his arm.
He grins back, his crescent eyes crinkling cutely. There’s something about his expression I can’t read, but it’s almost pitch black anyway.
“It’s a good thing, silly! Anyway, they said they’d tone it down after tonight… You really can’t hear them from your room?” I ask back.
It makes sense, though. My dorm is closest to 5B.
He shakes his head no. “Maybe we should swap rooms? I’m a heavy sleeper!”
“What? Don’t be silly! Anyway it shouldn’t be too bad from now on. Go back to bed, Hobi. Thanks for saving me.”
He laughs gently, and ruffles my hair affectionately before going back to his dorm. “Goodnight,” he says quietly.
“Goodnight,” I reply as I gently shut my own door behind me.
As I take off my hoodie and drop back onto my bed, I listen carefully for a moment. At first I’m not sure, but when I close my eyes, I’m certain. For all his haughtiness, Yoongi did turn the music down.
listen, listen, there’s this fanfic called My Fault by Keelynoelle, and it’s by far the best Babybones fic I’ve read so far and there’s this one part where they all sleep together in the small living area Grillby has behind the bar all in one big bed and it’s so FLippINg cute it warms my entire heart
but seriously it is sad and happy and painful and long and regularly updated all sorts of other good things, so go read it!!! (and follow them! @keelynoelleart)
She appeared on his doorstep like an avenging angel.
Clothes torn, face bloodied, and her expression more fierce than he’d ever seen it, Peggy Carter looked like she’d just taken out half the scumbags in the city and was gearing up for a round two.
“Agent Sousa,” she began, her clipped English accent unfailing polite even as she swayed with exhaustion. “I’m rather afraid I need your help.”
Daniel blinked once, and then again for good measure, but she didn’t disappear. Peggy Carter really was on his doorstep, asking for his help. So many questions burst into his mind at once that he ignored them all and stepped aside, allowing Peggy entrance into his home. She brushed past him into the small living area. He’d never before been so embarrassed by his cramped bachelor’s quarters, though he was infinitely grateful that his soldier’s training meant he always kept things unfailingly neat.
Peggy collapsed into an armchair, managing to look perfectly at home despite the circumstances.
“Can I…get you anything?” he asked hesitantly. He still stood awkwardly by the door, as Peggy had taken the only seat. And didn’t that just say a whole lot about his social life.
“Do you have tea?” her voice was hopeful.
He shook his head regretfully. “Just coffee.” She made a face in reply.
Peggy shifted slightly in the chair and groaned, her hand coming up to grasp her side.
“Are you alright?” he asked, careful to balance respect and concern. No matter that a part of him may wish he could take care of her, the rest of him was happy to know he didn’t actually have to. Which made her being here all the stranger.
“Just a slight bruise, I’m sure,” she replied with a tight smile.
“You don’t have to-” he began, as always frustrated by her reticence. But he stopped himself. Her secrets were her own. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the signs. Something was happening with her. And while he may wish she would trust him with whatever it was, he wouldn’t push. He’d earn her trust the hard way, or not at all.
“Why are you here, Carter?” he asked instead. “And how did you know where I live?”
Peggy gave him a look that was just short of her openly rolling her eyes. “I’m an SSR agent, Sousa. I know a lot of things.”
He felt heat rise to his cheeks but ignored it. “Why come to me?”
She hesitated, giving him a long, searching look. “I needed someone I could trust,” she said eventually. Daniel felt her words travel through him, lifting a weight from his shoulders that he hadn’t known was there.
“A friend of mine has been kidnapped,” she continued.
“And you can’t go through the official channels with this?” he asked in reply, a bad feeling beginning to creep over him.
She smiled ruefully. “Sadly, no.”
“Exactly who is this friend?”
She screwed up her face in a way that usually made him smile. “Edwin Jarvis,” she muttered under her breath, so quiet he could barely hear.
At her words, he unconsciously took a few steps towards her as the puzzle pieces began to slot together in his mind. “What? Peggy, please don’t tell me that all this time you’ve been working for Howard Stark?”
“He’s not a traitor,” she said defiantly. “He was set up, and I’m clearing his name.”
Daniel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “This is a very dangerous game you are playing for a man of such questionable morals.”
Peggy’s jaw was set. “He may not be perfect, but he’s my friend. He doesn’t deserve to be accused of something he didn’t do.”
They glared at each other for a long moment, until Peggy finally relented with a sigh. “I’ll show you the evidence I’ve collected so far, and let you make up your own mind whether or not to help me?”
Daniel felt himself nod before he had even made a decision. “First, we should clean you up.”
He moved towards the sink in the corner of his room, more conscious than usual of his limp. He dampened a face towel and moved back towards Peggy, handing her a cloth and his shaving mirror. At her look, he shrugged.
“I thought you’d want to do it yourself.” Uncomfortable with the intensity of her gaze, he turned to move away, but Peggy’s gentle hand on his arm stopped him. He looked down at her questioningly.
“I’m trying to get better at accepting help,” she said quietly, offering him the washcloth. Daniel swallowed.
He took the cloth from her, their fingers brushing together as he did so. A familiar, long-buried heat stirred within him but he desperately attempted ignore it. Peggy didn’t, couldn’t, return those feelings. They would just cause him pain.
Still, his breath quickened as he began gently wiping the blood from her face. Peggy watched him with unfathomable eyes, and Daniel wished he wasn’t so close to her. He suspected that she could see all his secrets laid bare and was judging his worthiness.
“Tell me about Stark,” he said, determined to distract them both.
So, she did. She explained how her old friend had come to her, asking for help. She told him about all the evidence she had found supporting his claim that he had been set up. And she told him about how her friend Jarvis had been kidnapped in an effort to draw Stark out of hiding.
“I was hoping you might help me find Jarvis before Howard does something stupid and reveals himself,” Peggy eventually finished.
“You took a real risk telling me all this.”
Peggy nodded slowly. “I’m aware. And I know that if you agree to help you will be risking a great deal as well. But I knew that if there was anyone else I had a chance in trusting that could help, it was you.”
Daniel gave a wry twist to his mouth, but couldn’t help the swell of pride bloom in his chest. “What do you need me for?” he asked, capitulating.
can you imagine being a painter and because you couldn’t find an available apartment with enough rooms you and Luke settled for a small one with 2 rooms, 1 bathroom, and a small kitchen and living area. so when you moved in you made 1 room your combined bedroom and the other room was yours and Luke’s combined studio space. so any time he was home and was inspired he would be there and be scribbling lyrics or practicing riffs with headphones beside his laptop on the small desk and a couple guitars standing int he corner, or whenever you had commissions to do or had a few pieces for a small gallery show to do you would be in there with your canvases scattering the room and paint stains on the old sheets that protected the floor. on the rare occasion you were in there by yourself you head your ipod on and would softly hum to yourself while you prepped your paints and quietly worked. but more often than not Luke would be in there as well and he would play quietly and hum or sing new lyrics, and on those days you never had your music on because his low voice was more soothing and helped you concentrate. and you wouldn’t be talking, but you’d both be working on your own things but be comforted by each others presence, and maybe the odd comment like I really like that riff, it works well with that harmony you just sang or I like those colours together babe, I think some darker colours on the edge there would look cool and you’d always be respectful of each other’s creativity and never be angry if the other made a suggestion. and when you had felt hours go by you’d wash your brushes and palette and stand in the doorway wiping your painty hands on your baggy ripped jeans and say I’ve made quite a mess, I’m going to shower….if you want to join me… and he would grin and take 0.2 seconds to drop everything and follow you to the bathroom, peppering kisses all over your neck bye
Long hair soaked and slightly dripping from her shower as she tosses it up into a messy pony-tail—– quickly getting dressed into a pair of shorts and a band shirt before running from her small bathroom towards her living area where she could hear the boy setting up the movie they’d be watching together for the third time now. Leaping towards him as her arms wrap around his shoulders—- she missed him, even if it hasn’t been very long.
I knew as soon as I stepped through the door that it was going to be a busy night.
Recently, Ashton had decided to sell his apartment in exchange for a nice, big beachfront home. Boxes were piled up and miscellaneous household items were strewn throughout the small living area, adding to the cramped atmosphere as people darted around in an effort to organize things.
Tucking my bag under my arm, I ducked beneath a small table that was being moved out by a couple of men in navy jumpsuits. Even though there had to be at least nine people in the apartment, all of whom looked vaguely familiar, I easily spotted Ashton among them. He was standing off to the side in the kitchen, bouncing Riley on his hip as he spectated people moving about.
Gliding up to him from behind, I slipped my arm around his waist in a side hug and stood on my tip toes to kiss him on the cheek. “Hey, Ash.”
Immediatly after recognizing my presence, he wrapped his free arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him. “There’s my other baby.”
“There’s a lot going on, huh?” I noted, finally taking a moment to observe all of the cleaning and packing being done around us. “I wish I could’ve gotten off work early to come help.”
Ashton smiled, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it; we’ve had a lot of people coming to help today.”
“I can see that!” I nodded toward the business of the apartment. “Who are all of these people?”
Ashton readjusted Riley in his arms, the little eight month old becoming restless in her father’s arms. “Mostly family friends—there’s a few hired movers too, for the heavier stuff.”
“Oh, nice.” I leaned further into Ashton’s side, tightening my grip around his waist. We stayed like that for a few seconds until Riley began squealing as well as her squirming around.
“What are you doing, silly girl?” Ashton cooed at the infant, holding her out from his body and staring at her in the eyes. Riley scrunched up her nose. “I know you want to play, Riley, but I can’t watch you right now, sweetie.” He brought her close to him again, pressing gentle kisses to her cheeks.
I reached out and stroked Riley’s soft tuft of hair; it was blonde and wispy like her mother’s but was a mop of curls just like her father’s. Just looking at her made my heart melt. “I can watch her while your busy,” I offered, running the back of my finger down Riley’s smooth face.
Request: “Can u do a Luke bad boy imagine where he like owed someone money or he was in a gang or something and like a bad guy kidnapped y/n because he knew it would hurt Luke and like Luke goes and saves her or something??? I love stories like this right now”
Danger was something Luke constantly put himself through every day as well as taking big risks that could potentially endanger his life. He dealt with gangs on the daily and came home bruised and bloody about twice a week which you hated but you knew this was his life. You knew what you were getting into when you decided to be with him and he even told you to stay away but you just couldn’t. You were in love with him and you were willing to risk things for him. And he was willing to do the same for you.
The apartment you’d bought together was tiny, one bedroom and one bathroom along with a small kitchen and living area but you weren’t complaining. It’s what both of you could afford at the moment and that was fine with you.
Recently, Luke had talked about how he wanted you to be cautious and to stay inside with the door locked because he was in some tricky business with a rival gang which frightened you but he told you he’d protect you no matter what. He owed money for weaponry but the problem was he didn’t have it. It caused a problem but he told you that he had it under control.
It was approximately 6 in the evening and Luke had a job to attend to as he shoved his gun in his back pocket, shrugging his jacket over his shoulders while he tugged nervously at his lip ring with his teeth. “I’ll be back soon, love.” he approaches you, kissing you delicately before heading out. “Be safe Luke.” you say quietly as if he’s able to hear you through the closed door.
Every time Luke goes to work it always leaves a pit in your stomach. You know he’s tough and able to take care of himself but that doesn’t stop the horrifying scenarios that form in your head. You just can’t stand the thought of him not coming home one day because you wouldn’t be able to live without those beautiful baby blue eyes.
The night dragged on rather slow as you laid on the beat up couch, staring at the ceiling, trying to find something to occupy yourself. The ringing of your phone suddenly breaks you from your thoughts, a smile lighting up your face as Luke’s name displays on the screen. “Hey Lukey!” you greet happily before you hear him breathing heavily on the other line. It’s silent for a moment before he speaks. “Y/n you have to listen to me.” he says sternly. You sit up as you listen to his instructions. “Luke what’s happening?” you question as his breathing only gets heavier. “I need you to leave the apartment. Don’t grab anything on the way out, there’s no time, just leave.” he tells you strictly. “O-okay but-” “No. Just get up and leave the house please. I need you to listen to me this is dangerous. Don’t stop for anything, just get as far away as you can from-” as you stand up from the couch, a figure emerges from behind you. grabbing the phone and throwing it at the wall before holding a cloth to your mouth, the world fading black as your legs give out beneath you. It all happened so fast before you were completely unconscious
Luke cursed under his breath. shoving his phone into his pocket as he sprinted out of the gas station where everything started. He knew what happened and he knew that they found you. They gave him a distraction by sending some men there to set up another deal but a whole fight broke out, leaving the place a mess and when he saw that everyone else fled, he knew he had to warn you. But he was too late and now he was racing back to the apartment with beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. It’s like he was in full on protective mode. He was not going to let anything happen to you even if it meant that he lost his life in the process.
The apartment was trashed once he stepped foot inside. Glass was shattered on the hard wood floor, the walls bashed in at certain areas, and furniture tossed around the room. “Fuck!” he yelled, punching the wall, adding yet another dent as he stormed out, knowing very well where they took you. Nothing around him mattered at the moment, all that mattered was you and your safety.
As fast as he could, Luke ran to the local warehouse where he knew they’d have you. And he was right. He snuck around the trucks parked in the front, his steps light and quiet. The only issue he had was the big muscular guys guarding the entrance. He knew he could take them but not both at the same time. Instantly, he figured out a plan as he grabbed a nearby rock and chucked it out toward the guard, a suspicion rising as he left his post to figure out the mystery. Now all Luke had to do was take on the one still standing next to the door which he was sure you were right through.
You woke up, dazed and confused as you realized you were tied to a chair in a large room with a couple of guards surrounding you. Terrified, you kept quiet as you searched around for a possible idea to escape. However, it was a difficult situation and you couldn’t draw any attention to yourself or things might get worse.
“He’s not gonna succeed.” a voice calls from behind you. That voice belonged to none other than infamous Calum Hood, he was in the rivaling gang and you were very aware of his reputation. All you gave him was a scowl before looking in the other direction. “You’re a quiet one I see.” he states, circling around you. “You know, Luke isn’t gonna save the day. There are too many obstacles and eventually he’s gonna be worn out.” he says with a smirk.
Before you can speak, you hear someone being thrown to the ground outside and shortly after, Luke steps in. He’s in fighting mode and you know it. You know that look in his eyes with a fire burning in his crystal orbs. Everything around him slows down and all he’s focused on is wiping out every target.
“Well look who it is-” Calum begins as he walks toward him, his first mistake. “Cut the shit.” Luke says with gritted teeth, bringing his arm back to swing at him. His hand is stopped as one of the guards grabs it, ready to flip Luke but his reflex is too fast as he twists his arm, his fist meeting the guy’s jaw and sending him to the floor. “Oh so you’re here to save you’re precious princess?” Calum mocks as another guard approaches Luke, only to be sent to the floor as well. “What do you want?” Luke spits, staring Calum in the eyes as he steps even closer. “My money.” Calum responds with anger laced in his voice. “I gave you all your damn money but then you demanded more.” Luke clenches his fists tightly. “Well if you can’t pay the price then-” Luke interrupts by throwing a punch to his face before shoving him up against the wall by his collar. “You’ve got a lot of nerve messing with me, Hood.” he tightens his grip on his shirt. “Especially when it comes to those I care about.” he gives him a punch to the ribs, Calum groaning in pain as Luke continuously punches him, leaving him with a bloody nose. “Don’t ever fucking come near me again.” he drops him to the ground, giving him one last kick as he blacks out.
Turning to face you, he see’s you shaking in terror before he rushes over to untie you. Once you’re free you collapse in his arms as he holds you tight. “Baby, I’m so sorry this was all my fault. I was supposed to protect you but I only put you in more danger.” he says with disappointment in himself. “Don’t say that Luke, you saved me didn’t you?” you assure him. “My prince charming saved me.” you tell him, kissing his cheek as he grips you waist firmly but gently. “I’m never letting anything happen to you again. Never.” he whispers pressing his lips to yours softly but with passion. “Let’s get outta here.” he says picking you up bridal style, a giggle leaving your mouth as he carries you.
(Inspired by the ask nathanmilersjust got about David walking in on Minty after hearing Monty screaming Nathan’s name) Warning: David’s poor brain is burned, the image of his little boy shattered, he needs some bleach, oh and a tiny touch of NSFW
David’s head snapped up at the scream of his son’s name, and his heart jumped in his throat. No.
No. Not his son. Please, not Nate. He couldn’t lose Nate too.
Chest thundering with fear and mind racing, David scrambled to get the door open and burst through the small living area the head guard had- only half-shared with his son, who preferred to spend most of his time in the Delinquent’s Village a mile out from Camp Jaha- to his son’s ‘room’.
“Nate! Is everything o-”
He stalled, freezing on the spot and clamping his mouth shut at the sight in front of him. Nathan sitting on the bed, naked, kissing someone’s neck and running his hands down the person’s bare spine, their body pressed to Nathan’s. His son didn’t look up, focused on satisfying the person in his lap who was making some… interesting sounds, and David realised who the mop of black hair and light tan skin belonged to in one sudden rush.
His son… and… Monty Green…. Right.
Leave. His wife’s voice burned in his head, sounding slightly amused, and David did just that. Thankfully the two boys were too… occupied… to notice his entrance and he shut the door behind him as quietly as he possibly could. Then he walked away. Fast.
“Everything okay, David?” Abby asked as he wandered past her, eyes taking in his surroundings in a desperate attempt to replace anything with that side of his son he never needed to see. Nathan was a little boy who never looked at anyone twice. And that was how David liked to remember him thank you very much.
He stared at the medic and chancellor, before nodding and continuing his walk.
He was never going to look at that plant kid the same again.
Sitting here in the dark after my close call from earlier, I got to thinking about other random scary shit that has happened to me throughout my life. Such as…
Back in college I had a friend whose family owned a beautiful cabin by the river outside of San Antonio, TX. It was their get away home and rarely did they ever invite anyone over from outside of the family.
One summer he convinced his parents to let him invite a couple of us over and so we made the trek to the middle of nowhere for a couple of days of fun.
Mind you, we were college students alone without parental supervision.
In other words, we were a horror movie waiting to happen…
Now the cabin we were staying in was made up of three levels and was somewhat hexagonal in shape. A ramp outside led from the driveway to a door on the second level of the house. This was the main entrance.
You can see this ramp below:
Most of this second level was made up of a living room area, a kitchen, and a few small bedrooms. Below is a pic of the living room fireplace:
A small, spiral staircase in the living room led up to the third floor, as can be seen below:
And looking down onto the living room:
On this third floor there was a bathroom with a window overlooking the front of the house.
You can’t tell from the picture above but from this window you could see someone approaching from quite a ways away.
There was also a small bedroom up here:
Meanwhile back on the main level, there was a closet-like door which led to a small ladder. This ladder led to the ground floor which was used as a garage and storage area.
And with the door open:
Now this one night (I think it was our first night there) we ended up staying up late watching old VHS movies that the family had lying around. And let me tell you, there was a little bit of everything…even vintage porn!
Anywho…sometime around midnight we thought it would be fun to watch some scary movies because, you know, that’s ALWAYS a good idea when you’re alone in the middle of the woods. It was either that or read from the Necronomicon…
Well we’re really into the movie when suddenly there is a loud knock from the front door. Mind you, it’s after midnight AND we are in a cabin in the woods.
Yes, the freakin’ woods.
(Now, I should point out here that the nearest homes are at least a mile away. Perhaps further. The nearest one is directly across the river and is straight out of a Texas Chainsaw Massacre sequel. Oh and did I mention we WERE in Texas?!? Yikes.)
Well we all look at one another and then at the door. All we can see are some dark silhouettes so we quickly grab whatever we can find to use as possible weapons and walk towards the door.
“Who is it?” one of us asks.
“Hi. Can you help us,” someone answers. “Our friend is missing.”
We look at one another, realizing that, yes, we ARE in a horror movie.
Curiosity gets the best of us (as it always does) and we end up opening the door. Outside is a small group of college-aged kids.
After the initial shock of finding other college students in the middle of the woods (some killer was about to get REALLY lucky), we find out that one of their friends is missing. Apparently they had been tubing down the river earlier in the day and he had vanished at some point in the afternoon.
After telling us their story and describing their friend, they ask if we’ve seen him. We haven’t. They then ask if we’d be willing to help look for him. Remember it’s after midnight and we’re scared shitless so…HELL NO.
We end up offering to put out some huge work lights that my friend’s dad has stored on the ground floor. The hope is that their missing friend will see them and follow them. We end up setting them up outside, facing the river.
The group thanks us for our help and then goes off to search some more. Remember it’s after midnight…
And us? We go back inside and contemplate what horrible fate fell upon their missing friend…and if we’re next.
I’ll be honest, no sleep was had that night!
Did I mention we were in the woods alone?
I call this photo: And they were never seen again…