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For: @Xyilous
Request: this is pretty weird, and
you don't have to do it, but would
it be possible to write a werewolf
kinda thing? i don't have an
exact story line but maybe the reader
and your choice of a band member
are friends and go to a party or
something but end up staying too
late and (band member) has to leave
suddenly because of a "family issue"
but the reader follows them. you can
go from there, that's all i got. i love
your works btw!

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Note: Thank you; I love you. Sorry for the wait, but I hope it's worth it. I'm actually kinda proud of this one? x

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Sipping from the red solo cup in your hand, you loitered in the unfamiliar living room, standing as far away as you could from the hoard of sweaty, drunk teenagers grinding against one another in the middle of the room.

The music was loud enough that you could practically feel your internal organs pound each time the bass would boost, prompting you to slink even further into the shadows.

Parties weren't generally your scene; the only reason you were even attending this one was because your best friend had begged you to. Something about needing back-up in case things went wrong with this guy that had invited her.

You knew that was a lie (the guy was one of the rare good ones), and she only said it to get you to get out of your room for once instead of being your usual antisocial self, but she was incredibly convincing when she needed to be, so you caved in and agreed to go.

But naturally, she was now nowhere to be found, and you were stuck awkwardly hovering around people you didn't know, with your only saviour being the drink in your hand.

And it wasn't even alcohol - it was ginger ale. Perks of being the only one in your friend group with a driver's licence: you were automatically the designated driver. Always.

So essentially, you were receiving zero enjoyment from being there.

Then, you turned to get another drink, and that all changed.

There, standing by the front door, clad in his customary leather jacket and ripped black skinny jeans - Brendon Urie.

You watched him as he greeted a couple of guys that stumbled passed him, his puffy lips barely twitching into a smile as his free hand tangled into the hair that was falling into his face.

Biting on your bottom lip, you kept your eyes glued on him as you absentmindedly worked on pouring yourself another drink. Brendon had finished greeting, and now stood still as he scanned the room, seemingly in search of someone.

You swallowed harshly as his gaze locked with yours. Maintaining eye contact, you refused to look away as he stared at you, cemented in place on the rug. It was only once you lifted your newly filled cup to your lips that he started moving towards you.

"Hey," he said once you were close enough to hear him, stopping only two feet away from you.

"Hey."

Turning to the side, he reached for a beer from the ice bath on the drinks table and twisted the cap off. His movements were slow and subtle, but it still sent a waft of his cologne through the air; you inhaled deeply, loving the smell.

"I'm glad you're here," he said, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a slug.

"Yeah, same here," you said, frowning lightly as you watched him take another long drink, "Should you be drinking? Didn't you drive here?"

Shrugging, he pushed his hair back. "I need it."

"Rough week?"

He nodded as he downed the rest of the bottle, hissing after he swallowed the bitter liquid. "Yeah, and it's not over yet. Fuck, I hate beer."

Despite his declaration, Brendon reached out to grab another bottle of the fermented beverage. You raised one brow, lips twitching upwards in amusement.

"Clearly."

"They never have the good shit at these parties. So suffer I must."

Tapping your finger against the rim of your cup, you titled your head to the side and looked on as he slugged half of the bottle.

"Your taste is way too refined for the regular folk. I doubt that bourbon and whiskey have ever even passed their lips," you commented, earning a smirk from the guy in front of you.

"I know what I like," he said, taking one step closer to you. You could feel his body heat radiating off of his sculpted frame; he was always so warm. "Sue me."

"Mm."

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a group of girls standing across the room, shamelessly ogling Brendon. One of them ended up meeting your gaze, and she conjured up a filthy look to toss at you, with the rest of her group following suit not too long after.

You couldn't blame them, honestly; you were standing wonderfully close to him, occupying a VIP seat to the viewing of his gorgeous features in all of their glory. Hell, even you were jealous of you.

"Those girls are eye-fucking you," you informed.

He cocked one brow and scoffed softly. "Do I look like I care?"

You had to fight to stifle your laugh. "That's not very nice," you teased.

"Like I said," he finished off the beer and placed the empty bottle in the nearby trash bag, "I know what I like. And that... is not it."

"No?"

"No," he confirmed, shoving one hand into the pocket of his jacket and cocking his head in the direction of the patio door, "Come on. I need a smoke."

~

With a disgusted look on your face, you leaned against the pillar of the porch with your arms folded, watching in disdain as Brendon retrieved his lighter and lit the cigarette dangling from his lips.

"I can't believe you're still a smoker."

Arching his brows, he blew a puff of smoke through his lovely lips. Taking one step backwards, he rested himself against the opposite pillar.

"I've been told it makes me hotter. Doesn't it?"

"Sure. But no one's gonna care when you die from lung cancer."

"At least I'll be a hot corpse."

Knowing that you were fighting a lost cause, you rolled your eyes and moved to sit on the steps. Inhaling deeply, you held your hands under your knees and looked up at the stars.

"Stay with me, babe," Brendon remarked, finishing off the cigarette and putting it out against the bottom of his shoe, "Don't get all 'existential crisis' on me. Not tonight."

You fought hard to supress the smile threatening to spill onto your face. It never ceased to amaze you how well this guy actually knew you.

"That's not the case every time I look at the stars, you know."

"Now, now," he seated himself next to you, close enough so that your shoulders were rubbing against each other, "We both know that's a lie."

"Whatever," you scoffed.

Reaching into the inside pocket of your jacket, you pulled out a metallic flask and unscrewed the cap. After stealing a brief glance at the brown liquid inside, you took a swig, then held it out to Brendon.

He accepted it with a smirk, which turned into a huge grin after he tasted the contents.

"I kinda hoped you'd show up," you admitted, explaining your reasoning for bringing a flask filled with bourbon to a teenage house party.

"Love of my life," he sighed dreamily, drinking some more.

You looked at him with an intrigued expression. "Me or the bourbon?"

Brendon just winked at you.

Laughing, you refocused on the night sky, admiring the moon.

"Wow. I can't remember last time I actually sat outside and looked at the moon," you said. "I forgot how beautiful it is."

Your comment resulted in Brendon's attention shifting to the sky almost instantaneously and as he did so, his face paled.

"Shit. Tonight's a full moon."

The hint of urgency in his voice confused you, and you creased your brow as you nodded slowly. "Yeah... just like it is every month...."

"Wait, what day is it?" Brendon asked, looking at you with panicked eyes. "It's Friday, right?"

You shook your head. "Saturday."

As if it were possible, Brendon's face grew even paler.

"Shit!" he hissed loudly, scrambling to his feet. He fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. "Fuck, it's almost midnight," he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for you to make out.

"What's wrong?" you asked in concern.

"I- I have to go," he said, hurrying down the steps of the porch, heading for the back fence.

"Brendon, wait!" You rushed after him, pulling his arm to try and get him to stop, but he yanked himself away harshly. "What's going on? Why are you-"

"I just have to go, (Y/N), okay? I'm fine. Don't worry, just... go home."

Everything about the way Brendon was acting was unlike his usual self. His confident, cool and controlled, slightly cocky demeanour had ostensibly dissipated, and what was left was someone who could only be compared to a scared, vulnerable child.

It scared and worried you beyond belief, to see Brendon like that, but when you tried to press him for an answer, he just ignored you and ran off.

You watched in complete puzzlement as he scaled the backyard fence with cat-like agility, before dropping to his feet on the other side and disappearing into the forest.

Everything about the last two minutes sent you into a frenzy of worry, and so you did the only reasonable thing you could do in such a situation...

You followed him.

~

Tiny wisps of air from your breath floated into your field of vision as you shone your phone's flashlight in front of you, directing you through the dark abyss that was the local forest behind the last street of houses in the neighbourhood.

It was dark all around you, and the random noises emanating from further into the woodland expanse did nothing to calm your nerves. The further you dwelled into the forbidding forest, the more you regretted coming in the first place.

Brendon had left no trail after him, making it next to impossible for you to know which way to wander. You'd been walking for close to fifteen minutes now, and for all you knew, you could've been going around in circles the entire time.

The only thing keeping you going was the thought that Brendon could be in there somewhere, possibly injured or in need of help, and that was enough to ease any qualms you had.

You continued on, albeit reluctantly, and just when you thought that you had gotten yourself unforgivingly lost, you heard a sound that scared the shit out of you, while simultaneously drawing your attention towards a secluded structure not too far away from you.

A gasp slipped past your lips as you heard the sound again - a howl. You knew that the best thing you could've done at that point was to run away; you knew that.

But you didn't.

You ran, yes, but not away from the building. Towards it.

Adrenaline pumping through your veins and heart pounding so loud that it drowned out all other sounds, you followed the groans and howls coming from inside of the structure.

The front door was rotting away, so getting inside was no problem. Once you were in, you slowed your steps, your common sense finally settling in as you realised how extremely dangerous the current situation was.

You had no idea what was waiting for you around the corner, and the sounds coming from there made you feel as if you didn't want to find out, either.

Yet, you found yourself walking forward; it was as if your legs were moving out of their own free will, and you couldn't stop them even if you wanted to. Slowly, carefully, you rounded the corner... and your blood ran cold.

There, curled up on the floor, was Brendon.

Well, partly Brendon, partly wolf.

You were frozen in shock, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to even breathe. All you could do was watch, watch as the guy you'd drank bourbon with half an hour ago transform into a creature you'd previously only believed to be mythical.

He was writhing around in pain, torn between his human form and his wolf form, sounds coming from his mouth alternating between animalistic and humanoid.

It took him a moment before he noticed you, but even through the dilated pupils of his yellow wolf eyes, you could see that he recognised you.

Immediately, he scooted back, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, as he attempted to repress the awfulness of his transformation.

"It's-it's okay," you croaked, throat dry, as you carefully edged forward, "It's okay."

Brendon howled in pain as his body strained against the chains holding him back; it was obvious that the metal digging into his skin was hurting him, and you found yourself reaching out to help.

Before you could comprehend what you were doing, you had found the keys dangling from one of the wrought iron bars from the opposite cell and unlocked the chains.

Groaning out in protest, Brendon bore his teeth at you. It was a clear attempt to frighten you into running away, but you knew that he was still himself, so you made no such decision.

Unsatisfied over your conscious choice to stay, Brendon lunged at you, deliberately knocking you off of your feet and into the other cell. You landed with a thud, moaning in discomfort as a twinge of pain shot through your arm, while Brendon took advantage of the fact that he was still partly in his human form, and hurriedly locked you in.

Springing up to your feet, you rushed over to the bars, breathing heavily as you looked on. Brendon was fighting back against the transformation, stumbling around and groaning and hissing in pain as he summoned all of the willpower he had inside of him to prevent the wolf from coming out.

It was already incredibly hard to control during his regular monthly routine, when he was alone during the full moon. But now that you were here, and now that there was a possibility that he could hurt you, it was more crucial than ever for him to stop it.

Miraculously, he managed to supress the overwhelming urge to transform, resting his open palms against the cold stone wall as he tried to regulate his breathing and get his spiked heart rate down.

A couple minutes later, he dragged his tired body over to your cell, resting against it as his bruised fingers worked on undoing the lock.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you whispered, closing your hands over his as he opened the cell for you to step out.

He didn't answer, only clenched his jaw and avoided your gaze, and you sighed. Your stare raked over his body, and a shudder coursed through you.

"You've been locking yourself up?" You traced the welts on his body in horror, red and raw from a full moon of chafing.

Brendon shoved himself away, allowing his temper to take over. "What the hell did you follow me for? Untie me for?" he demanded, glowering at you, "Are you crazy?! I could have killed you!"

"You'd never hurt me."

Apparently your words were amusing, because Brendon chuckled bitterly. "All well and good but the wolf isn't me," he snarled.

"No wonder it's pissed off if you never let it stretch its legs," you scoffed, referring to his action of fighting off and resisting the transformation.

"Oh, don't act like you know anything about it! You found out like five minutes ago!"

"So you're telling me that you don't resist the transformation every month?" you cast an accusatory glare his way.

"That's not-" he cut himself off, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply. He counted to three in his head and then opened his eyes again, speaking in a much calmer tone. "You have no idea what it's like, (Y/N). So don't come at me with this condescending bullshit."

"Okay, so tell me what it's like," you pressed, inching closer towards him, "Talk to me. I can help you, I can-"

"You can't!" he exclaimed impatiently, combing his hair back out of frustration, "No one can. This is something that I have to deal with. Me. It's not your problem."

His outburst silenced you, and you stood in one place, watching with a frown as Brendon slunk down against the metal bars, letting his head hang down.

"What if I want it to be my problem?"

Brendon looked at you like you had just spoken an alien language. You crossed over to where he was sitting and joined him on the dirt floor.

"In case it wasn't made clear enough by me risking my life and coming here," you started, stretching out your legs and hooking one ankle over the other, "I care about you, B. A lot. And this is a seriously heavy situation; I don't want you to have to deal with it alone, you know? Because you don't have to."

Your words hung in the air for a moment before Brendon showed any sign of acknowledgement. The tiniest of smiles spread across his lips, as his hand lifted up to your face. Gently, he tucked your hair behind your ear and traced his thumb over your cheek.

He leaned in nearer to you, close enough to kiss you but not giving you that satisfaction. Instead, he let his lips hover just above your mouth, barely ghosting over your yearning lips and causing your head to spin with anticipation. Just when you thought you couldn't handle it anymore, he closed the remaining distance between you and captured your lips in an amazing kiss.

"Fuck, I should've done that a long time ago, huh?" he breathed after breaking the kiss, laughing softly before leaning in for another short one.

"Mhm," you agreed, nodding as you deepened the kiss for a couple seconds before pulling back and looking at him with a serious face, "So is that a yes? You'll let me help you?"

Brendon sighed, running his hands through your hair. "You're not gonna give up, are you?" You shook your head. "Fine. But you have to promise me that you won't untie me ever again, alright? It's not safe."

"I promise."

"Even when we're married."

You nearly choked on the air in your throat. You'd just shared your first kiss a few seconds ago and he was already talking about marriage?

"Who says I'm gonna marry you?" you gave him a strange look.

"Please," he snorted, taking your arm and rolling up your sleeve to reveal the tiny birthmark shaped as a half-moon on your forearm, "I imprinted on you."

"You what?" you gawked.

"Imprinted. It's when-"

"Yeah, I know what it is. I've read Twilight," you held up a hand to stop him, shaking your head as you stammered in disbelief, "But wait... you imprinted on me, but waited two years to tell me about it? Or to even ask me out?"

Brendon rolled his eyes at your overdramatizing. "We don't have control over when we imprint and on who - if it were up to me, I would've waited. This shit is dangerous, and I didn't want to drag you into it so early. But because you're a nosy little-"

"Watch it," you warned.

"-you kinda threw my entire plan off."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"Yeah," you gave a prideful smile, before realizing something and creasing your brow, "So this means that I'm, like, your soulmate?"

"Yeah," he smirked lazily, "Remember when I said that I know what I like? Wasn't kidding."

You laughed incredulously. "And that means when you said 'love of my life' earlier, you were talking about me."

"Oh, no, I was talking about the bourbon."

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Thank you for reading x