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seanfalco · 3 years

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Wouldn’t Change a Thing | Vincent Rhodes x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: Language, slight angst Prompt: Vincent falls for y/n but is too embarrassed of his tics to ask her out + “You’re holding back” + “I wouldn’t change anything about you.” Requested by: Anonymous + @waterlily502 a/n: These requests have been in my queue for a while (I’m so sorry), I just finally got the courage to write for Vincent. I’ve been hella nervous about writing for him bc I want to portray him and his disorder as accurately and as respectfully as possible, so I really hope I’ve done so. Also the reader character I’ll be using for my Vincent series is one that comes from a place close to me and my own experiences (though not quite to the same level) and it’s really cathartic for me to write, so I hope you guys’ll be able to enjoy it as well.

Thank goodness they hadn’t given you a roommate, was the first thought that ran through your head as Dr. Rose showed you to your new room. Though, how long would that last? you wondered.

Setting your bag down on the bed you looked around as the door closed behind her, reminding you of your therapy session the next afternoon before she left. The room was a decent size, two twin beds with a dividing wall between them, two desks on the opposite wall, two wardrobes near the entrance, and an attached bathroom with two sinks. The walls were a neutral cream colour, with minimal decoration, two nondescript framed photos hanging above each bed, but you supposed you could fix that eventually.

It wasn’t home, but it would do. At least you were away from people. Now you could relax, settle in.

Until the sudden knock at the door made you jump and you hesitantly shuffled closer to peer out the peephole. Outside stood a tall, thin young man under a mop of brown curls, rocking on his heels as he waited, and a flash of anxiety passed through you, tightening your chest.

Kinda cute though, you thought briefly before you pushed those thoughts away, wondering what he was doing outside your door.

“Uhm, hello?” he called, giving another hesitant knock. “I know you’re in there -- CUNT!”

At his exclamation you reeled back sharply, your anxiety spiking. What the hell?

“Ahh, fuck, I-I’m sorry, please don’t -- FUCK, FUCKING CUNT. Oi!”

Frowning, you looked back through the peephole to watch him grimace before breathing a heavy sigh and bringing his hand up to run down his face in exasperation, turning away from the door.

“Please don’t be… alarmed, I--”

Taking a deep breath, you unlocked the door and opened it just far enough that you could peer out at him. As soon as he heard the lock turn he lifted his face from his hand and turned to look at you sheepishly. Embarrassment suffusing his entire posture.

“Who are you and what do you want?” you asked warily, your gaze flicking over him.

“I’m Vincent,” your visitor replied quickly, holding out his hand as if to shake and then awkwardly retracting it when you merely glanced at it, making no move to open the door more. “Uhm, Dr. Rose asked me to show you around, give you the tour,” he explained, and for a moment his eyes met yours and you quickly looked down, but not before noticing how strikingly green they were.

Beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” Vincent said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. His embarrassment radiating off him in waves.

“Uhm, what was… all that?” you asked hesitantly, gesturing vaguely at him, unsure how to put it into words, knowing you probably sounded rude.

“I have Tourette’s,” he explained, flashing you a resigned smile before twitching several times, his shoulders tensing.

“Oh,” you replied, “I’m sorry, I--” you floundered, feeling like a bit of an ass.

“It’s okay,” Vincent said, taking a deep breath, clearly wanting to put the whole episode behind you. “So, uhm, you gunna open the door...?” he asked expectantly.

Your fingers tightened on the edge of the door as an internal battle waged. You wanted nothing more than to shut and lock the door and retreat back into your room, into safe solitude, but it was obvious that sort of behavior probably wouldn’t go over well here -- you were supposed to be working on your anxiety, not giving into it, and it was clear that Dr. Rose had sent Vincent to you as some sort of test, to get you out of your room.

“Are you okay?” Vincent asked, clearly noticing your struggle as you hung back, and you grimaced. “If it’s because of what I said--”

“No!” you exclaimed quickly, mortified, not wanting him to think for a moment that you didn’t want to come out because of him. “No, I promise it’s not you. I--” you swallowed, cutting yourself off.

How could you tell him you were too chicken to leave your own room? What would he think of you? But the very thought of walking through the facility, of encountering all those new people, of having them stare at you, made you want to puke, your stomach churning as your anxiety gripped you tighter. It was nearly unbearable.

Though it nearly took everything you had in you, you bit the inside of your cheek and opened the door fully, setting your shoulders. Making sure you had your room key in your hoodie pocket, keeping a death grip on it, you stepped outside, closing the door behind you.

“You sure you’re okay?” Vincent asked, eyeing you worriedly, but you quickly nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets as you followed him. “I uhm, I just realized I never got your name…” he said, trailing off, clearly waiting for you to provide it.

“It’s [y/n],” you answered, glancing quickly over at him, catching his eyes for a second, the hesitant smile he wore bolstering you slightly.

At least he’s cute, you thought, clutching at anything that might take your mind off your anxiety, forcing yourself to breathe, your gaze flicking once more over to him. If you had to take this stupid tour, at least the company was nice.

——

As Vincent showed you around, you kept your eyes down most of the time, especially when you came to a room with a group of people in it, not wanting to see their eyes on you. Feeling them stare was bad enough.

You passed the public computer lab, a games room, a lounge with a large television in it, an area for exercise, and lastly the cafeteria, which you had a feeling Dr. Rose would no doubt insist you come to have your meals as part of your therapy. You noticed Vincent watching you before looking around the room with a small frown.

“Ah, there’s one more place I need to show you!” he exclaimed, gesturing toward the door and you followed him, eager to be away from the cafeteria.

Back outside he led you around the building to a lone picnic table under the shade of a sprawling oak tree. Climbing up to sit on the table, Vincent patted the spot next to him and you reluctantly sat down.

“So, why’d you bring me here?” you asked, looking around, feeling the tension that had gripped you since leaving your room begin to lessen slightly. The spot was rather secluded, peaceful, just the two of you for the moment and the breeze rustled the leaves overhead, the sound pleasant.

Vincent shrugged, glancing over at you as he leaned back. “I couldn’t help but notice how nervous you seemed, and thought you might like it better out here.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little to yourself. “It is rather peaceful here,” you replied softly. “Thank you.”

Vincent smiled, and for a moment you thought he was going to say something when suddenly his jaw clenched and his brows drew down as if he were fighting a sneeze.

“Fucking coward!” Vincent exclaimed abruptly as several involuntary muscle spasms seemed to grip him, followed by a series of grunts and expletives, ending with him smacking his hand over his mouth in a loud pop.

Almost as soon as the tics passed he winced, drawing in on himself before glancing reluctantly over at you. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered sheepishly. “You know I don’t mean anything I say during that, right?”

You took a deep breath. It was going to take some getting used to, being around him, his words initially stinging, but the amount of embarrassment on his face told you he was being truthful. It wasn’t like he could help it, you thought, eyeing him thoughtfully, and the last thing you wanted was for him to feel bad about that.

“...I know,” you murmured, gently laying your hand over the back of his arm awkwardly, hoping the gesture might soothe him.

Vincent gaped down at your hand on his arm, tensing momentarily before his gaze found yours and he seemed to relax slightly, flashing you a hesitant smile. Clearing your throat, you figured since he’d been so open with you, it was your turn.

Slipping your hand into your lap to clutch your other hand, you looked down at them as you spoke. “I, uhm… you asked me why I’m here,” you said, stumbling over the words til you stopped to take a calming breath, already feeling your anxiety creeping back in like tendrils, wrapping around you, tensing your muscles.

“I’m agoraphobic, and to a lesser degree scopophobic,” you explained, feeling his eyes on you.

“I wondered,” Vincent murmured, shifting next to you, his arm brushing yours. “I could see how uncomfortable you were while I was showing you around,” he mused, pausing to twitch a few times. “What’s scopophobia?” he asked after a moment, and you made yourself glance over at him.

“Fear of being stared at,” you answered, smiling wanly and Vincent nodded, his springy curls bouncing slightly and you wondered what they felt like, if they were as soft as they looked.

“So, uhm, what kind of behavioral exercises do you have to do?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Dunno exactly yet, I’m sure I’ll find out at my session tomorrow,” you murmured, fidgeting with the hems of your sleeves. “I’m sure it’ll involve getting me out of my room like this. Facing my fears.”

Again, Vincent nodded.

Noticing a couple of other patients rounding the building, you tensed, and Vincent glanced over at them before sliding off the table and holding his hand out for you to take.

“C’mon, I’ll take you back,” he offered, watching you expectantly and you took his hand, letting him help you down.

“How long have you had Tourette’s?” you asked as you walked, wanting to fill the silence and hoping you weren’t overstepping, but Vincent didn’t seem to mind, shrugging slightly.

“Since right before middle school,” he answered, glancing over at you.

“Has it gotten… easier, since coming here?” you wondered, hoping if this place could help him, it might help you too.

Vincent seemed to catch on to what you were thinking. “Actually… yeah,” he replied, “I was kinda doubtful when I first got here, but I’ve been going longer without ticcing than I ever have before. And I think it's partially from the habit reversal training I’ve been doing, and partially because I’m not as stressed as I was, but…” he trailed off, watching you, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I bet Dr. Rose will be able to help you too.”

“Thank you,” you murmured as you stopped in front of your door and you made yourself meet his gaze, again being struck by how beautiful his eyes were, a slight flush rising to your face. “And thank you for the tour,” you managed, the butterflies in your stomach swarming harder as Vincent chuckled softly.

“Oh, c’mon, you hated it,” he teased as you tilted your head, a small grin playing at the corner of your lips.

“I didn’t hate all of it,” you admitted, giving him a meaningful look that made his grin widen and light blush stain his cheeks.

“I’m glad,” he replied, hesitating, clearly not wanting to leave just yet, as if he had something more to say. “Can I come visit you again some time?” he asked abruptly, “o-or if you want someone to accompany you on your behavioral exercises…” he offered, trailing off and you found yourself smiling in earnest.

“Yeah, I… I think I’d like that,” you admitted, finding you meant it and your answer seemed to put Vincent at ease too, his whole posture relaxing.

“Cool,” he said, grinning as he took a couple backward steps. “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch, then?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you, Vincent,” you said softly, turning to unlock your door and quickly slipping back into your room.

Usually returning to safe solitude made you feel better, but as you went to your bed to sit down you found yourself wishing you hadn’t let Vincent leave so quickly and you wondered what that meant. Despite the fright he’d given you at first, you found he was pretty easy to talk to and you’d even managed to make eye contact with him several times, which was kind of a big deal for you. Finding yourself looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow, even if that meant returning to the cafeteria you flopped back on your bed, testing it out before letting your eyes slip shut.

The next day at your first session with Dr. Rose, it was as you feared, she wanted you to combat your fears by spending more time outside your room, starting with eating your meals in the cafeteria, and instantly anxiety at the thought gripped you, your breath freezing in your chest.

“You can handle this, [y/n],” Dr. Rose assured you at the panicked look on your face.

“I don’t think I can,” you replied, shaking your head frantically.

Dr. Rose studied you for a moment before switching tactics. “You went on a tour with the facility with Vincent yesterday, right?”

You nodded.

“And how did that go?”

That’s right, Vincent! You’d nearly forgotten that he’d offered to eat with you and that thought carried you through the morning. Each time the idea of being in the busy cafeteria, with all those people around, made you freeze up and your breath catch, you forced yourself to remember you’d have at least one familiar face there, and it helped, somewhat.

“Hey,” Vincent greeted as he found you waiting by the door for him, your fingers twisting together anxiously.

“Hey,” you murmured.

“You ready?” he asked, and you took a deep breath before nodding, falling into step behind him, using his height as a shield as you walked through the double doors into the room.

Keeping your eyes on your feet as you followed Vincent up to get your tray, you let out an audible breath as he led you back to a deserted table in the far corner, away from the busier tables.

“There, not so bad, huh?” Vincent exclaimed, directing a reassuring smile at you as he dropped his tray to the table and sat.

“Speak for yourself,” you muttered, pulling out the chair next to him and sitting, your back to the rest of the room. If you didn’t see the other people, you could pretend they weren’t there.

As you began to eat, Vincent looked thoughtful. “What are you so afraid of?” he asked, a sincerity in his voice that told you he was genuinely curious and not mocking you.

“I dunno,” you murmured, pushing your food around your plate, “I guess, that I’ll do something… wrong and everyone’ll see and… judge me,” you explained, trying to put your fears into words.

Before Vincent could answer a scandalized gasp cut through your conversation and you looked up to see a dark skinned young man with close cropped black hair and his dress shirt buttoned right up to his neck standing at Vincent’s elbow and glaring right at you.

“Who is she and why is she at our table?” he demanded, his British accent spiked with panic.

“I’m sorry, I can leave!” you exclaimed quickly, grabbing your tray to flee when Vincent touched your arm.

“No, you’re okay,” he replied hastily, throwing a glare at the intruder before turning back to you. “Don’t mind him, he’s always like this,” he explained, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “[y/n], this is Alex, my roommate,” he introduced, turning back to Alex. “Alex, this is [y/n], she’s new here. Dr. Rose asked me to help her feel welcome.”

“Oh, sure she did,” Alex exclaimed sarcastically, watching you warily. “So, why are you here?” he demanded, whipping a sanitary wipe out to wipe down the table before he placed his tray down and sat. You noticed he was wearing a pair of disposable latex gloves.

“Agoraphobia,” you answered, poking at your food. “You?”

Alex regarded you a moment before answering sullenly. “OCD.”

“Look at that, an anxiety disorder,” you pointed out, “we’re not so different, you and I.”

Vincent looked between the two of you, a small grin growing on his face before he snorted a soft laugh. “She’s got you there,” he murmured, glancing up at his friend.

Alex scowled. “I suppose you can sit with us,” he relented reluctantly, “if you stay on that side of the table.”

“Not a problem,” you murmured, sharing a small grin with Vincent before finally taking a bite of your lunch.

——

In the following days, you’d developed a routine, and part of that routine was meeting Vincent and Alex for lunch at the same table, in the same chair, each day getting to know them both a little better than before. While Alex had been rather hostile at first, he began to mellow, well, as much as he could and you found yourself drawn to Vincent a little more each day.

He was easy to talk to and he managed to make you laugh more than you had in a long while, his bright easygoing smile instantly helping you forget you were surrounded by a roomful of people, your eyes only seeing him.

Dr. Rose seemed pleased with your progress, suggesting next for you to venture out of your room even more, to take a walk around the facility at least once a day and you decided you’d ask Vincent to come with you to keep you company. Plus, he seemed to make you feel… safe, so the thought that he’d be there if you got too overwhelmed was a nice one, it made you feel like you could do this.

When you showed up at his room asking him to accompany you on your stroll Vincent was only too happy to join you, flashing his roommate an excited look before following you out the door and falling into step with you.

As you walked, you found yourself opening up more than you had yet, talking about yourself and things you liked, wanting him to know more about you, while wanting to know as much as you could about him as well.

The moon was rising as you made your slow circle around the facility, the night air turning chill, and Vincent noticed you shiver. Shrugging off his jacket, he stopped to sling it over your shoulders without a second thought and you faltered.

At your questioning look, he grinned. “You looked cold,” he murmured, shrugging, his hand brushing yours as you gripped the edges to pull the jacket tighter around you. His hand was warm and you found yourself wanting to hold it, but resisting.

“Thank you,” you murmured, smiling to yourself as Vincent began to walk. “You know, I’m really glad that it was you who gave me that tour on my first day,” you said suddenly, taking him off guard, his emerald eyes swinging to you.

“Oh? Why’s that?” he asked, watching you with interest, and you found you didn’t mind. You wanted him to look at you.

Luckily the path you’d taken around the grounds had been secluded and as you rounded the last corner toward your dorm, there was only you and Vincent.

“Because, you’re the best friend I could’ve asked for here,” you admitted, bumping against his side as you walked. “I like hanging out with you, V.”

“I like hanging out with you too, [y/n],” he replied as you came to stop outside your door, not wanting the night to end.

“Hey, [y/n],” he said, pulling your attention and for a moment his mouth hung open, as if he wanted to say something more before glancing down and shaking his head slightly. “Ah, nevermind,” he muttered suddenly, shoving his hands in his pockets and you frowned.

“What is it?”

“It… it’s nothing, forget I said anything,” Vincent insisted, his shoulders tensing.

“You’re holding back, V,” you pointed out, biting your lip, feeling his apprehension. “What’s wrong?”

Vincent groaned, his head suddenly jerking to the side as his palm pushed against his chin, his elbow bent at an uncomfortable angle. “Mind your fucking business -- FUCKING WHORE oi!”

Breathing heavily, Vincent took a step back, his face contorted in embarassment. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice cracking, “I gotta… I gotta go, goodnight [y/n],” he called before turning and practically running away, leaving you confused and alone in front of your door.

You thought briefly about chasing after him, knowing something was wrong, but you felt suddenly paralyzed. Defeated, you resigned yourself to returning to your room, worry festering in your stomach as you kept replaying the last few moments over in your head and trying to make sense of it.

——

Knocking on Vincent’s door, you shifted your weight nervously back and forth as you waited for him to answer the next morning. You’d barely been able to sleep, worried about him and combing over every possible reason as to why he’d ran away the night before, if it was something you did. When the door opened however, it was Alex that stood there, looking rather unsurprised to see you.

“[y/n],” he greeted formally, “to what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Uhm, hey Alex, is… is Vincent in there?” you asked, leaning slightly to try to peer around him into the room.

“Yes, he happens to be here,” Alex answered in that rather rigid way he had of talking, glancing over his shoulder and gesturing toward the door, as if having a silent conversation with Vincent.

“Can you ask him to come out… here, for a second? I wanna talk to him.”

“Of course,” Alex replied, nodding before stepping away from the door. You heard a hushed ‘Go! Go on, talk to her!’ and moments later Vincent sheepishly appeared in the doorway, shuffling his feet.

“Hey, [y/n],” he mumbled, not quite meeting your eye.

“Can I talk to you, V?” you asked, gesturing outside.

“Uhm, sure.” Vincent hesitated, glancing back at Alex who made a shooing motion before he grimaced and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.

“About last night,” you began, watching Vincent nervously. “Did I do something wrong?” you asked, and his head snapped up, his eyes going wide.

“No!” he exclaimed quickly. “No, not at all -- COCKSUCKING SLUT -- fuck,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Not acknowledging his outburst you gently moved his hands from his face to peer up at him. “Then what were you going to say before you practically ran away?” you asked, biting your lip.

“I,” he began, grimacing as another cluster of tics overtook him, breathing heavily through his nose once they’d passed. “I, fuck,” he muttered under his breath, “I was gunna ask you out, but…”

His words kicked up the swarm of butterflies in your stomach, affirming what you’d thought he was building up to before he’d bolted. “But what?” you prompted gently and those beautiful emerald eyes met yours and he sighed.

“But, this,” he exclaimed, gesturing to himself. “I got embarrassed, okay? I started to worry that you wouldn’t want to be seen with me, since you already have a hard enough time with your anxiety around leaving your room. What if we went out and my tics cause a scene, calling attention to us. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he explained, the pain in his voice and the shame in his eyes breaking your heart. “If I was just normal--”

“Vincent,” you murmured firmly, shoving down the sudden flare of panic that he was going to try to push you away, as you reached for his hand, threading your fingers with his. “Do you wanna know the only thing that’s made being here actually tolerable?” you asked, your voice still a whisper and his eyes met yours, peering out from under his long curls.

“...What?” he asked hesitantly.

“You,” you answered simply. “I feel comfortable around you, and it’s been a long time since I felt that way around anyone other than my dad,” you admitted, squeezing his hand. “I… like you, Vincent. Like, like-like you. You’re funny, and smart, and kind, and exciting, and I wouldn’t change anything about you.”

Before you could talk yourself out of it, instead chasing the impulsive desire that gripped you, you rose up on your toes and pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth as your eyes fluttered shut. You could hear Vincent’s breath catch as he froze.

“I like you just the way you are, not in spite of it,” you murmured as you pulled back and the dazed smile that danced across his lips banished the fear that had clutched you momentarily.

“You do?” he asked, slightly stunned.

“Mhmm,” you answered, a pleased grin playing at the corners of your lips as you watched him.

“Well then, in that case, would you like to go out with me?” he asked, flinching slightly before revising his words. “Er, well, you know what I mean.”

“I would,” you answered, your grin growing. “We can figure that part out later.”

“Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms for a hug and you squeezed him back, burying your face in his t-shirt.

“Oh, good, you two worked all this silliness out,” Alex exclaimed, opening the door to find you and Vincent standing outside, embracing, and you pulled back just far enough to look over at him, finding a rather ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk on his face. Vincent rolled his eyes before grinning down at you.

“We did.”

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

Tag list: @midnightseance @magic-multicolored-miracle @badsext @elliethesuperfruitlover (if you’d like to be added to the Vincent taglist, please let me know!)

#the road within #vincent rhodes #vincent rhodes x reader #vincent rhodes imaginies #robert sheehan character fic #my writing #prompt request #waterlily502

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seanfalco · 3 years

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Not Even Death | Nathan Young x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k Prompt: “Why are you crying?” + “I just watched you die!” + “I promised nothing would ever separate us. Even death.” Requested by: @waterlily502 Warnings: Blood/Gore, Character death (tho it’s Nathan so he’s okay lol)

It was growing late, the shadows growing longer and you shivered at the chill wind that blew right through your hoodie as you took another swig from the bottle before passing it back to Nathan, the liquor warming you on its way down.

“I should probably head home,” you murmured, though you made no move to get up.

“What, no, you should stay!” Nathan argued, tipping back the bottle, finishing off the rest of it and letting it clatter to the roof with the other empty beer cans and bottles from earlier that week.

“I can’t,” you whined, leaning your head against Nathan’s shoulder. Though you desperately wanted to stay, not only as a reprieve from your family, but since his miraculous resurrection, things had been different between you and Nathan and you found you wanted to be near him more and more, as if afraid you would blink and he’d be gone.

“I wish I could,” you admitted and Nathan shifted next to you.

“Well, why not then?” he asked, watching you, his green eyes strangely mesmerizing. “I have a perfectly good mattress -- it’s a little small maybe, but if we sleep close we’ll fit,” he said with a meaningful wink. “I could keep yeh warm tonight.”

“Nathan,” you groaned, his offer not helping, “my dad’ll kill me if I don’t show up again,” you explained, hating that you couldn’t just come and go as you liked.

You were an adult, dammit!

“Well, that’s bollocks,” he exclaimed and you sighed, finally pushing up off the bench.

“I know,” you replied wearily, gripping his outstretched hand and pulling him to his feet. “Y’wanna walk me home at least?”

“Yeah, why not.”

——

As the sun set the temperature dropped even further and the wind buffeted you, forcing you even closer to Nathan’s side.

“Y’want my jacket?” he asked, noticing your chattering teeth. Not waiting for your answer, he shrugged out of his dark jacket, begrudgingly handing it to you.

It wasn’t much, but it was still warm from his body heat and it cut the wind a bit. “Thank you,” you replied gratefully, drawing your hands inside the long sleeves and wrapping the edges of the jacket tighter around you.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute ‘cause I don’t do this for just anyone,” Nathan grumbled and you grinned up at him, bumping into his shoulder with yours.

“I’m cute, huh?” you asked, your lips twitching coyly as Nathan shrugged, tossing his head, his gaze not quite meeting yours. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Nathan was flustered, but Nathan never got flustered.

Up ahead a rustling sound caught your ears and you tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, noticing the hunched figure not far from you, lurking in the alley near some overflowing bins.

“Bit jumpy aren’tcha?” Nathan teased with an amused chuckle, following your gaze, “it’s just some homeless scroungin’ for his evenin’ meal. Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls that’s scared of the dark?”

“Shut up!” you huffed, giving him a shove, “I’m not scared of the dark, okay?”

Eyeing the man warily, you let Nathan tug you along. You could’ve sworn he was grunting and twitching, kinda like Tony, your first probation worker, before he’d attacked you and Kelly. The thought made you shiver. However, as you and Nathan passed the mouth of the alley, the man straightened suddenly, his hooded head swinging right to you and you grabbed onto Nathan’s arm.

The bin the man had been looting through clattered to the ground, the metallic clang echoing down the deserted street and he gave a lurching step forward, sniffing hungrily.

“Nathan, I’m pretty sure there’s somethin’ wrong with that bloke,” you exclaimed, your voice shaking, and not from the cold.

Fear crossed Nathan’s face as he looked over his shoulder, the man now definitely following you, his unsteady steps picking up speed as the two of you walked faster as well. “I, uh, I think y’may be right about that,” Nathan finally agreed, taking your hand and breaking into a run.

The slap of feet and hair raising guttural grunts behind you spurred you on and you pulled Nathan around a corner, cutting through someone’s backyard, but you could still hear your pursuer behind you.

“Y’know, I’m gettin’ real tired of all this excitin’ shite happenin’ ever since that bloody storm!” Nathan panted, hurdling over a stray toy left behind by some kid.

“Yeah, fuckin’ same!” you exclaimed, catching sight of the bloke still chasing you, a mad glint in his eye. It almost looked like he had something in his hand. “I think our maniac has a knife,” you cried, your fear, if possible, spiking even higher.

“Fan-fuckin-tastic!” Nathan replied wryly.

As you pushed through the hedgeline everything suddenly went eerily quiet and you tugged Nathan off to the side, crouching down underneath a parked car, hoping to throw your pursuer off. Holding your breath, you waited and the vagrant finally broke through the bushes. From your hiding spot you watched his feet stumble past, searching for you, a frustrated growl ripping through the night air that made you jump and reach for Nathan who grabbed you as well, his eyes wide.

You waited several minutes til all was quiet and you could no longer see the stalker.

“Whew,” Nathan exclaimed, letting out a long sigh of relief, “looks like we lost th’fucker. That’ll teach ‘im t’mess with us--”

Nathan’s brazen exclamation cut off, turning into a strangled cry as he was suddenly wrenched away from you and you shrieked as you saw the flash of a knife slice down through the air to embed itself in Nathan’s chest.

“NO!” you cried, watching with horror as he gasped, blood gurgling from his lips to trail down his chin, his shirt already steadily darkening with blood. The maniac’s arm pulled back to stab Nathan again and with the last of his strength his eyes met yours.

“[y/n], run!”

But you couldn’t. Fear froze you in place, trembling and sick, tears welling in your eyes as the killer dropped Nathan’s lifeless body to the ground, next turning his sights on you and when his eyes met yours, bloodshot and dark, as if his pupils had dilated far beyond the normal range, you finally shrank back, tripping over your own feet as you tried to back way.

Falling backward it felt as if time had slowed, catching up to you as you hit the ground, the air rushing painfully from your lungs and for a moment your vision swam as the figure stood over you, crouching down toward you.

Scrambling backward your hand landed on something long and wooden and you looked at it, curling your fingers around it desperately -- the handle of a discarded shovel left near the shed, and with all your strength you swung, the shovelhead connecting with your attacker’s skull with a metallic clang, knocking him off his feet.

Taking your chance you scrambled upright and swung again and again and again, until the man was no longer moving. You nearly backed away, dropping the shovel until you remembered the ending of nearly every slasher film you’d ever seen, and not keen on being taken by surprise when the killer wasn’t actually dead, you made sure giving him one last whack for good measure before stumbling away to retch behind the bushes.

With the killer taken care of you hurried back to Nathan’s body and collapsed next to him. Unbidden, tears began to well in your eyes, and even though you knew he was immortal it didn’t make it hurt any less. With the adrenaline leeching from you, emptiness took its place, along with the realization that you’d killed a man with your own two hands and you gave into your sobs, pressing your face to Nathan’s shoulder.

“Hey, why’re you cryin’?”

Nathan’s voice jerked you upright and you quickly wiped at your eyes as he pushed himself up, scowling down at another shirt ruined.

“I just watched you die!” you cried, unsure how else to answer, how to put into words the fear you’d felt, even if you knew he couldn’t die-die. It was like watching him fall off the Community Center roof all over again and then finding him impaled in the locker room. It just… it hurt.

A slow grin spread across Nathan’s face as he regarded you. “Oh c’mon, I promised yeh nothin’ would ever separate us. Even death,” he said cheekily, grinning wider at the flush that crept across your cheeks.

“You arsehole,” you muttered, making to stand when Nathan suddenly grabbed the hem of his jacket, holding you in place.

“You care bout me,” Nathan teased before his lips met yours, cutting off the sharp retort you’d had ready on your tongue, turning it to a soft moan.

“Nathan,” you murmured between kisses, but he seemed determined not to let you speak yet. “Nathan,” you tried again, this time gently holding him back as you pulled away. “What are we gunna do about the body?” you asked, nodding to the dead bloke several meters away and Nathan sighed.

“I dunno, let’s roll him into that ditch over there,” he suggested.

Once the deed was done you looked down at yourself and frowned. “God, I’m a mess,” you muttered.

“You’re a mess? Look at me!” Nathan cried, gesturing to his blood stained shirt.

“I can’t go home like this. Besides I don’t want you walking back alone now,” you argued and Nathan frowned.

“So what, you’re gunna turn around and come back to the Community Center now after all that? What about your dad?”

You shrugged. “I’ll just tell him I stayed with a friend and my phone was dead. Besides, didn’t y’want me t’stay with you in the first place?”

“Well, yeah, but--” Nathan exclaimed as you took his hand, heading back the way you’d came.

“I’m gunna need t’borrow some of your clothes for th’night,” you said, cutting him off, gasping as Nathan put his arm around you.

“You could always sleep naked,” he offered, earning him a jab in the ribs and an unamused glance. “Alright, alright, I had t’try, didn’t I?”

#misfits #nathan young #nathan young x reader #nathan young imagines #character death tw #blood tw #violence tw #my writing #prompt request #waterlily502

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