I won't (The Lost Boys x reader)

𝘼𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩

You were sitting outside, on the porch. You didn't like being inside when you were at home, no matter what the weather was like. Luckily, your porch had a roof on it, so you could always sit outside and read, write, draw, whatever distraction you wanted to use to make yourself forget about what was going on inside.

But today, you had a new sight to see. You had never really talked to the elderly man next door. Your parents used to say to avoid him, and he did seem a little strange. He filled his yard and house with taxidermy, he never really left or socialized, and he just had this very strange demeanor about him that felt... off. And after his wife died eight years ago, he never had company over.

So who the hell was driving towards his house?

You quietly watched as a car pulled into his driveway, with the attached trailer moving with it. Once it parked, you watched as two boys and a woman hopped out. One of the boys looked your age, while the other looked to be about as old as Edgar and Alan. Then, a dog jumped out of the car. You wanted to run over and pet it, but refrained from doing so. You wanted to do some people watching.

You could see the old man lying down on his porch. You had seen him walk outside and lay down, but were confused as to why.

"Dad," the woman asked hesitantly. "Dad...?"

"Looks like he's dead," the older boy told her.

"No, he's just a deep sleeper," the mother stated.

"If he's dead, can we go back to Phoenix," the younger boy questioned.

"Playing dead," Mr. Emerson said, sitting up. "And from what I heard, doing a damn good job of it too."

"Oh dad," the woman gushed, kneeling down to hug him.

You stood up, and made your way inside. Wasn't it customary to make new neighbors baked goods or something? Did you even have the ingredients? You made your way to the kitchen as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb your parents. You stayed virtually silent as you sifted through the cupboards, cabinets, and pantry, looking for anything you could give the newcomers. Sadly, you came up empty handed.

Well, you should still go over and introduce yourself, right? Let's be honest, you'd be terrified no matter what. Cookies, or no cookies.

So, you made your way back outside, and across the street.

"Hey (y/n)," Mr. Emerson greeted loudly. "Haven't seen you in a while!"

"Hello sir," you waved.

"Dad, who's this," the woman asked with a bright smile on her face.

"This is (y/n), they live across the street," Mr. Emerson told her, pointing at your house.

The woman looked at your house, then at you. You suddenly froze up, scared. Why did new people have to be fucking terrifying?!

"Hello ma'am," you said.

Your voice sounded hoarse, and you wouldn't be surprised if she couldn't hear you at all. But hey, you had managed to say something at all. You were going to take that as a personal win.

"Hello dear, it's a pleasure to meet you," the woman responded, sticking her hand out for you to shake. "I'm Lucy."

You shook her hand, and smiled. Suddenly, the younger boy came running to the doorway, looking a little panicked.

"Mom, mom, you've gotta help me," he said loudly.

"Oh, I'm talking to someone," she replied, gesturing to you.

"Eh, why don't you just come inside (y/n)," Mr. Emerson told you. "And as for you... we need to go over some rules."

And with that, Mr. Emerson began to direct Lucy and you into his home. The boy in the doorway moved so you could all go in, and smiled and gave you a curt nod as you walked by.

"We've got some rules around here," Mr. Emerson began. "The second shelf is mine. That's where I keep my root beers and double thick Oreos. No one touches the second shelf but me."

He opened the pantry as he said this, revealing the not so glorious second shelf. You couldn't see any Oreos, and all of the bottles were covered in a thick layer of dust.

"Now, there's another rule around here, and I want you to pay close attention," Mr. Emerson stated. "Don't touch anything. Everything is exactly where I want it to be."

"Hey grandpa, is it true that Santa Carla is the murder capital of the world," the boy asked.

"Well, there are some bad elements around here."

"Wait, let me get this straight. Are you telling me we moved to the murder capital of the world?"

"(y/n), would you like to explain this," Mr. Emerson asked. "Because it seems like Sam doesn't want to listen to me."

"Um, well... how do I put this..." you trailed off. "If all the bodies buried around here rose from the dead all at once, we'd have a bit of a population problem."

Sam was staring at you wide-eyed, obviously shocked (and maybe even freaked out) by what he had just been told. Sadly for him, Mr. Emerson wasn't done with the rules.

"Now, on Wednesdays, when the mailman brings the TV guide, sometimes the address label is curled up just a little," Mr. Emerson explained. "Now, you'll be tempted to tear it off. Don't. You'll only wind up ripping the cover, and I don't like that."

"You have a TV," Sam asked.

"No. I just like to read the TV guide. Read the TV guide, you don't need a TV."

And with that, he walked off into a different room, with Lucy quickly following after him. The boy - Sam - looked up at you, and offered a handshake like (who you presumed was) his mother.

"Hi, I'm Sam," he said.

"(y/n). It's a pleasure."

He smiled, and looked past you into the kitchen.

"Nanook, no," he shouted, running in.

You quickly turned to see what was going on, and found the husky from earlier rooting through a grocery bag. Sam grabbed the dog's collar and began to pull it away, and you ran in and grabbed the bag off the floor.

"What's going on in here Sammy," you heard a new voice ask.

Turning to look, you saw the older boy you had seen earlier.

"Nanook was trying to get to the ham again," Sam exclaimed, still wrestling with the dog.

"Oh. Wait, who's your friend?"

"This is (y/n)," Sam told him.

"Hi, I live across the street," you said, pointing towards your house.

"Well, it's nice to meet you. I'm Michael," he greeted.

He was the first one who hadn't tried to shake your hand. But, he did come stand next to you while you watched Sam struggle to keep Nanook away from the grocery bags on the countertop.

"So, how long have you lived here," Michael asked.

"My whole life," you answered.

"So you know the area?"

"I'd like to think so."

"Well, me and Sam were planning to go to the boardwalk later, it'd be nice to have a tourguide."

"Are you seriously flirting right now?! Help me," Sam demanded loudly.

Michael shook his head and went to help his brother, and you giggled at Sam's antics. You didn't really see what Michael was doing as flirting, but Sam's reaction was amusing none the less.

"I should probably head home," you told the boys. "But I will gladly show you around later."

A/n: MY BROTHER HATES ME BECAUSE I TOLD HIM ABOUT THE TOES.

Also, I was thinking about throwing in some 'Bill and Ted's excellent adventure' references, BUT IT'S TWO YEARS OFF. Now I'm sad because I can't make any Socrates jokes (let's be honest here, I probably will make some sort of joke or reference).