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hollytoshaw · 1 month

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noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis

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summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour

word count : 5.7k

part one here

a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx

masterlist <3333

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Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better.

After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to.

Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.

She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London.

It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while.

While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off.

So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist.

It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat.

She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time.

As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.

Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather.

''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’

‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’

Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’

She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’

‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.

‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.

‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’

''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’

‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’

‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’

Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought.

‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’

Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’

The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory.

‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’

They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers.

''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’

Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days.

‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’

✩ ✩ ✩

A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.

After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots.

Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer.

It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them.

Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.

Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work.

As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.

The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.

Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space.

Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven.

It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did.

Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain.

She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.

She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect.

Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.

As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind.

Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot.

She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.

✩ ✩ ✩

Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.

She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up.

With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.

The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout.

The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back.

The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.

His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face.

‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’

Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’

She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’

‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed.

‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.

‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’

‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours.

‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’

‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her.

‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back.

A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact.

‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.

Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go.

‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’

‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’

Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’

‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’

‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’

And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous.

‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night.

Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person.

‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor.

‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’

‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’

‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest.

‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was.

"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’

‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’

Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’

‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’

‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.

‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.

‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’

‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words.

‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’

‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’

‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’

‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’

‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’

So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly.

‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.

‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.

‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked.

What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident.

‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’

‘’Hmm maybe.’’

‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’

‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement.

‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.

‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’

‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’

‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’

‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned.

‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.

The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in the morning to sort out admin for the cafe.

‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.

‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.

‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’

‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless.

‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’

‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed.

Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa.

Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night.

She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.

She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry.

Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it.

On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’

With a little smile on her lips as her fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.

a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

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banditthewriter · 7 months

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Run, Run, Run - Billy Russo

Here we have 2023's Halloween fic! I haven't written much fic this year and I can't promise that I'll write much/any next year, but I wanted to make sure I got this done. It's not edited or proof read beyond brief skims so sorry about that. It's also 17.2k so.

Warnings: Murder. Blood. Depiction of serial killer attacks. Discussion of scars and grief and fear.

Summary: The reader survives an attack by a known serial killer when they are in high school. Only the attacks start up again when they are older and in another state. Is it related to the first attacks? Is it a copy cat? And more importantly...is it someone the reader knows?

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

[gif is mine]

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You hadn’t been to many parties since you started high school, but the ones you had gone to had always gotten rowdy. Spilled out all over a house except for any rooms marked Occupied or Out of Bounds. The front and back yards would be covered in cans and bottles and cups. And quite a few people passed out.

This party might be in full swing, but it was nothing like the last parties you’d gone to. There were a lot of people, but everyone was squished into the basement den. A few went up into the kitchen in sets of two or three or more, but they all came right back after they got a refill or more snacks.

As it was, there were only about twenty people at this party. Once upon a time that’d be laughed at, considered a failure of a party, but this time? You were honestly surprised to see this many people at the graduation party most people had been looking forward to.

Why were things different this time? Simple.

Over the last three weeks, seven people had been brutally murdered in your small, sleepy coastal town. Four teenagers, one parent, one police officer, and one unlucky Good Samaritan. Everyone said that nothing like this had ever happened here before and you believed it. It wasn’t a place where people left their doors unlocked, but murders? Multiple murders in just a few weeks? It was unheard of.

The media named the murderer the Seaside Slasher, but tonight everyone had his real name. He had been caught when he fled the scene of his last murder. No one recognized the name as being a local. As terrifying as it was that a random man had come to your town to brutally murder complete strangers, it didn’t matter. It was over. He was in jail.

Parents had reluctantly granted permission for the seniors to go to parties as a way to celebrate the upcoming graduation and a way to mourn the loss of their classmates. Your parents had been very hesitant to grant permission, but your older brother who had come to town made them agree that you deserved to let loose.

Not that this party was much of a way to do that. Music played so softly that you could barely hear it, teenagers sat around and talked quietly. You hadn’t expected a blowout or anything, but this felt more like study hall.

You could either stay here and be reminded of the horrors of the last few weeks or you could go home and actually relax. It wasn’t a hard decision.

A quiet goodbye to your group of friends later, you went up the stairs and slipped your shoes on. You checked your purse for your things and then headed to the front door.

“Where you headed sweetie?”

You turned around and saw the mom of the student whose house you were in. You smiled as you hoisted your purse over your shoulder.

“I’m going to head home. My parents didn’t want me out for long with everything.”

The mom smiled, but you could tell it was with a heavy heart. She looked out the glass of the front door and frowned a bit.

“It’s late. Do you want me or my husband to drive you?”

That wasn’t a rare occurrence even without the murders still hanging over the heads of everyone, but you still shook your head.

“No, I live one street over, on Granite Avenue. It won’t take long.”

She laughed a bit as she reached out and touched my shoulder.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be so cautious. He was caught, wasn’t he? We’re safe now.”

“But it’s hard to switch gears that fast,” you added, since that’s exactly how your parents had worded it. She laughed as if you had read her mind, but you could see she was still a bit hesitant to let you walk. “I’ll call once I’m home. How’s that?”

With your friend’s mom placated, you headed out into the night air. It wasn’t overbearingly hot, even though summer was right at the cusp. Living this close to the coast meant there was also a little bit of a breeze though.

You walked down the street a few blocks before you cut across to your own street. There weren’t many sounds in the distance, just the sound of your feet on the asphalt, but you still felt the hair rise on the back of your neck the longer you were out. You sped up your pace until you could see your house clearly, the front porch light on to welcome you home.

Maybe your parents had the right idea to not want you to go out. It didn’t matter that you were safe, right then you felt like you were being hunted.

On the front porch you pulled out your key and let yourself in. There were no lights on upstairs or in the living room as you put your purse down and tugged off your shoes. You bypassed the stairs and went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. With it in your hand, you took a few sips before you headed to the stairs that led down to the den where your brother was staying. There wasn’t an overhead light on but flickers from the television. He was probably awake though and you wanted to let someone know that you were home.

Down the stairs, you looked over to the couch and saw the back of your brother’s head as he was facing the television which was on the local news on mute. Right as you opened your mouth to say something to alert him to your presence, you saw what was on the television screen.

Captions ran across the bottom of the screen in a delay to the way the anchor’s mouth was moving, but you saw the picture in the corner of the screen and the tag under it.

SEASIDE SLASHER ESCAPED POLICE CUSTODY

“Oh god,” you whispered as you stared at the news footage. Somehow the murderer had gotten free and whereabouts were unknown.

You needed to call your friend and let them know that you were home and also what had happened, in case they didn’t already know. You needed to wake your parents. You needed to…

“Jere?”

You whispered your brother’s name, not wanting to scare him, but he didn’t budge from watching the news. You flicked the light on which would have ordinarily caused him to at least jerk but he didn’t move still.

Unease filled you as you tiptoed across the carpet to the edge of the couch. As you peered around, multiple things happened at once.

The first was that you saw your brother, his eyes dull and face slack as blood oozed from his neck. He was propped up on the couch to look like he was still alive, but he very much wasn’t.

The second was that crumpled on the floor in front of the couch, hidden from view at first, was your mom. Her face was upturned a bit, but had the same dull eyed look as your brother as she laid in a pool of blood that soaked into the thick carpet underfoot.

The third was that, from the corner of your eye, you saw something move in the reflection of the framed picture of your family that hung over the television. That split second heads up is what made you spin around only to be face to face with a masked murderer who held a bloodied knife in his hand.

The scream came out of you all at once, from the horror of seeing your murdered brother and sister to the terror of being face to face with their murderer. It all happened so quickly that you just screamed for it all as you immediately started to run. You tossed the glass of water you held at his face as you took off across the room.

It meant you had to run through the pool of blood and you felt your socks soak in some of it as you did, but you couldn’t focus on that. You couldn’t focus on the fact that you’d just run past the dead bodies of your loved ones. You could only focus on survival.

Another scream came out of your throat and you felt something slash against your shoulder. He had caught up to you. You bounced off the wall and then darted behind the couch, desperate to get to the stairs, but he was right on you. Your hand grasped a picture frame from the shelf nearest you and you spun around to slam it against his face as you scrambled, screaming as his knife cut into your stomach. You needed to put distance between you and him, needed to get up the stairs. Needed to…

Was your dad even alive? Maybe he had been killed too. Maybe there was no one in the house to hear you scream.

Your face was slammed against the corner of the wall near the stairs, another slash of the knife as it went across your shoulder blades. The den wasn’t large enough to run from him, nowhere to hide. You were going to be killed, you were going to be—

A thunderous noise came to your attention right before someone came down the stairs and barreled into the body that was holding you against the wall, the knife carving against your back and the back of your arm as he was ripped away. You screamed as you spun around, but you watched as your dad wrestled the masked man to the floor and ripped the knife from his hands. Even though the other man fought back, your dad had something to help him.

Cuffs. He was in his police uniform so he must have just gotten home and heard your screams.

As your heart stopped pounding in your ears you heard your dad’s voice break through the fog.

“–911, okay? You need to call 911!”

You stumbled over to the landline that was kept in the den, your feet screaming as you did, but you didn’t focus on that. Just on getting to the phone. Hitting the 9 then the 1 then the 1 again. Then you slumped against the ground as a voice came across to ask what was your emergency.

“Please,” you begged softly as your eyes went to the dead bodies that you could clearly see, your eyes welling up with tears as you felt nausea roll through you. “Oh god, please just…please.”

A bloodied hand entered your vision and you screamed, but your dad bent down so that you could see his face.

“Give me the phone sweetheart, let me,” he said, tears in his eyes.

You must have given it to him. Or maybe he just took it from you. Either way, you watched as he walked back to where he had tackled the masked man as he spoke quickly into the phone. He stumbled over to the body of your mom and knelt down, those tears now pouring over his cheeks. You couldn’t hear his words, but you closed your eyes so you couldn’t see it anymore.

Everything hurt. Your feet from walking through broken glass, either from your water that you’d thrown or the picture you’d smashed against his face. Your back from the multiple knife slashes. Your stomach from the knife. Both of your arms from the knife. Your head from being bashed into the wall.

Your heart. That’s what hurt worse.

—

“You sure this is what you want?”

You looked over at your dad and then back down to the papers in your hands. It listed the information about your dorm room assignment and orientation. You were about 30 miles away from the city but your dad was finally asking the question you knew had been on the tip of his tongue since you had told him that you had gotten into NYU.

“Little late to change my mind, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. I’ll turn this car around right now if you ask me to.”

You knew he would, but you didn’t want him to.

At one point you had contemplated going to a college closer to home, maybe driving in to see your parents every now and then. Maybe you’d go to your brother’s college. Then…

“This is what I want,” you said softly as you looked out of the window to the cars that were all heading the same direction.

“Okay sweetheart,” your dad replied equally softly. “You know I’ll worry about you in a city like New York, but I can’t fault you for wanting to get as far away as you can.”

Your arms subconsciously came around your stomach, fingers searching out the rigid raised scar that stretched beside your naval almost to your side.

“Bad things happen in the city, but bad things happen in small towns too,” you reminded your dad, as if he ever needed a reminder.

As if he hadn’t nailed the door to the den shut the day of the funeral.

“Maybe I’ll move out this way too,” he said instead of addressing your comment. “Less travel so we can see each other.”

Normally the thought of a parent moving to be closer to where you were going to college would seem embarrassing or ridiculous. This time it sounded like a good idea.

“Maybe you should,” you replied as you looked over at your dad, the bags under his eyes and the gray that seemed to sprout up in the last six months. “I think that would be a good idea.”

—

Your roommate was out at another party, but you didn’t mind. You’d gotten used to the solitude, even surrounded by people as you were in New York.

Instead you stared at the computer screen where you had been doing homework. An email had come into your personal box and desperate for a change in pace, you’d opened it. Now you were unable to look away.

A news alert. You’d set it up before you left for college, although this was the first alert you’d gotten. The article was short and to the point, but you kept staring at the headline.

SEASIDE SLASHER SENTENCED TO DEATH

Your phone rang as you read the words again and you answered without looking at the caller ID. You already knew who it was.

“Did you see–”

“Yes,” you said quickly, cutting your dad off. “Yeah, I’m looking at it now.”

Both of you sat in silence on the phone for a few more minutes, neither of you sure what to say at first.

“It’ll be years before it’s actually carried out,” your dad said finally. “These things go through certain stages and he can appeal but, it’s not like there’s much chance of him winning. Justice will be served.”

You closed your eyes and flipped through memories of that night like a flipbook. You felt the horror and terror and pain flow through you all over again.

“Good.”

—

“You’ll never guess who I saw earlier,” your friend Karen said as she flopped down onto your couch. “Never in a million years guess.”

“Frank Castle,” you teased back, not needing to guess.

Her laughter was a good enough answer to tell you that you were right. You laughed as you spun around in your desk chair to look at her.

“And? Did he ask you out or are you continuing to pretend not to like him?”

This was a pretty common sight in your tiny little apartment. You and Karen had met in college and stayed friends even with both of you having hectic lives. Now, out in the real world as it was, you two still hung out a few times a week. To the point where you each had keys to the other’s places.

“He asked me out.”

You let out a whoop and pumped your fist in the air.

“Knew he had it in him!”

“Oh shut up,” she laughed even as she got a starry look in her eyes. “I think I’ve led him on quite a chase already.”

Those two had circled each other for a while, neither one relenting at first even though it was obvious they both liked each other. You were almost annoyed at how perfect they were for each other.

“He said he has this friend named Kevin. He wanted to know if…”

You weren’t sure why Karen had trailed off until you realized you were frowning.

“No blind dates,” you said as you spun back around to your computer. “I appreciate it and all, but I’m fine.”

Your hand went down to your stomach and traced the ridge of the scar in a familiar fashion. You knew without looking that Karen had caught the gesture.

“I know that your first time ended badly, but not every guy is going to…”

She trailed off but you turned to look at her.

“To what, freak out when he sees me naked because I look like someone tried to unsuccessfully gut me like a fish?”

Your college boyfriend had been surprised when he’d seen you without a shirt on, but that wasn’t what had ruined the mood. Even when he’d seen the scars on your back or your arms, he would still have been willing to go further, but it was you that stopped it.

Simply because he had asked “what happened?” As if that wasn’t a reasonable question at that moment.

“I know that you don’t like talking about what happened,” Karen started softly, and then a little more forceful when you scoffed, “but you can’t keep going like this. You rarely leave your apartment unless it’s to come to mine, you never date because you don’t want to talk to anyone about what happened, you only ever talk to me or your dad. It’s not healthy.”

The hand that had pressed against the scar reached up to work the mouse on your computer, although your eyes were unfocused as your mind replayed Karen’s words over and over again.

“Have you thought about going back to a counselor?”

You shook the mouse to make the screensaver go away.

“The last one looked freaked out when I tried to explain what happened. Hard to go back to one after that.”

Karen was one of the only people in the city that knew what had happened to you. It had happened one night about two years into being friends when the two of you had gone out drinking. You’d gotten spooked by someone wearing a ski mask, even though it was winter and obviously cold outside. Karen had found you having a panic attack in the bathroom and everything had just flowed out of you.

She was a great friend, your best friend. That was the only reason you didn’t kick her out of your apartment as she pushed for you to better yourself.

Except you didn’t want to keep having this conversation, so you opened your mouth to change topic but your cell ringing stopped you. Your dad’s picture showed up so you answered it with a smile.

“Hey dad.”

“Hey sweetheart,” he started, his voice slow and careful. “What are you up to?”

“Just sitting at my apartment with Karen,” you said as you turned back to Karen who called out a hello to your dad as she picked up a magazine off your coffee table. “What’s up?”

It took a moment before he answered.

“Have you been watching the news?”

Both you and your dad lived in New York, although he was a ways away from the city, but you knew he didn’t mean the local news. Not even state news. There was something in his voice that told you he meant the news back home.

“No,” you said as you turned to your computer and typed in a search. “I turned off my alerts a while back. Why, what…oh.”

The headline was the first one that popped up, sixteen hours old.

SEASIDE SLASHER EXECUTED

The article wasn’t very long, but you read through it twice just in case. Pretty to the point. No stay of execution was ordered, so the execution had been scheduled. Some of the family members of the victims were present, noticeably absent was the family of the last victims but you and your dad’s names weren’t listed at least. His last words were quoted near the bottom of the article.

“You have no idea. I’ll be back.”

You closed your eyes and took a few breaths until you were regulated once more. When you opened your eyes, Karen was standing beside you and obviously reading the screen because her hand went to your shoulder to give you an encouraging squeeze.

“I guess it’s over,” you said as you covered her hand with yours.

“I guess so,” your dad said back.

For some reason, neither of you sounded convinced.

—

It had been Frank’s idea to leave the city for a few days. While his reasoning was different from yours, you had to admit that you weren’t against the idea. It was around Halloween and while that holiday had not always been an issue for you, sometime over the last few years you just started to react differently.

Even though the man that had killed multiple people in your town, including your mom and brother, had been executed a few years ago, you still felt like you couldn’t fully breathe and be at ease. You didn’t know how to explain it, but that’s just how you felt. Halloween in the city meant seeing people dressed in costumes and a majority of that wasn’t a problem. It just put you more on edge.

Not that your apartment ever got trick or treaters.Still.

“My friend is gonna come out to join us,” Frank said as he carried your bags into the little cabin. “Before you say anything, it’s not a setup kind of thing. Billy is just like a brother to me, I want him to meet the girl that’s like a sister to Karen.”

“Karen already told me. Plus I’ve heard a lot about this Billy guy over the years, it’d be nice to actually meet him.”

Frank was a great guy and had been great to Karen since the two of them had gotten their shit together to start dating. You hadn’t known that Frank was military when the two of them first met, but they made it work. In fact you couldn’t think of any couple that was as in love as the two of them.

So no, you knew that Frank wasn’t the type to try to push a blind date on you. You’d heard a hundred stories about Billy Russo but whenever they were back in the city, you weren’t able to meet up. Sometimes it was for legitimate reasons, deadlines for work or that one memorable Thanksgiving you had the stomach flu. Sometimes it was just because your anxiety and fear had gotten triggered by other situations and you couldn’t leave your house.

This was good though. You were out in the world which always made Karen happy, you were going to meet Frank’s best friend which would make him happy, and you were secluded from any potential jumpscares that Halloween might provide which made you happy. It was a win-win-win.

Two frozen pizzas were popped into the oven and the three of you settled into the living room to watch a movie. Frank got updates from Billy on his own travel out from the city to a remote cabin that you all had rented for the long weekend. When you’d asked why he hadn’t met up with you all to head out together, Frank revealed that Billy liked to do things on his own.

You understood that.

The movie was some actiony Blockbuster that you only vaguely recognized the name of, but it wasn’t really meant to keep everyone’s attention. It was more background noise while the three of you talked. Karen was in the middle of a story from her work at the law office when what sounded like a car pulling up had all of you looking over to the door.

“Bill said he still had an hour left,” Frank said as he checked his phone again. Then he stood up and approached the door and looked through the glass. “Huh. I don’t see a car besides ours.”

Karen frowned and got up to move over to the large glass windows that you had pulled the curtains closed on. She opened them just a bit and looked around.

“Think they drove around to the back? The driveway wraps around the house.”

Frank walked out of the living room and into the kitchen to check back there, but called that there wasn’t a car there either.

“Maybe someone just turned around in the driveway and was gone before you got up?” you offered as you tried not to let yourself get swept away in worry and fear.

“That…is a good possibility,” Karen agreed as she let go of the curtains and moved to sit next to you once more. “Out here away from the city you can hear everything like that. It didn’t sound too close, now that I’m thinking about it.”

Frank came back into the living room with another piece of pizza halfway eaten already as he nodded in agreement. He sat down on the chair closest to the television and put his feet back up on the coffee table.

“I always forget you both are from small towns,” he said as he wiped his hands on a napkin before he crumpled it and tossed it with the rest of the dinner’s debris on the coffee table. “I’m used to cities.”

You stretched your legs out and then moved so that you were sitting criss cross on the couch cushion.

“My town was tiny. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone, secrets were nearly impossible to have, people felt comfortable going to anyone’s house and asking for something if they needed it. It was…it was a great place to grow up.”

You waved off Frank’s look of concern with a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. The last therapist said that I needed to get better about talking about the good things from my past. It wasn’t all…bad.”

Karen reached over and squeezed your hand in support which just made your chest swell with a bitter happiness. How bad off were you that you could be praised for doing something as simple as talking about the good days of your past?

Knock knock.

All three of you looked over at the door. Frank glanced over at his phone once more and then stood up. He went to the door and looked out of the small window, but didn’t seem to see anyone. When his hand went to the bolt, you opened your mouth but immediately closed it.

This was just a normal situation. It wasn’t anything to get worked up about. If you gave into your fear every time something happened that was out of your hands, you’d never get to have a normal life.

He opened the door just a few inches and looked out, the light from the house flooding out onto the porch. He flicked on the overhead light but didn’t open the glass door to step out and check.

Tap tap tap.

All of you looked over to the window that was in front of you, angled so that someone standing in front of it wouldn’t be visible from the front door. You opened your mouth and looked over at Karen who was frowning. Frank held a hand out, but Karen stood up and marched over to the window. She didn’t pull the curtains wide, but she didn’t have to. The moment she pulled them even partially open, the sight made her scream and jump backwards.

There was someone just outside of the window dressed in a black hoodie with a Halloween mask on their face. You recognized the mask from some horror film or other that had come out years and years ago, but that didn’t really click. Instead you found yourself staring at the mask, mouth open as if to scream, but nothing coming out.

Things happened very quickly after that. Karen had turned to Frank who was already out of the house in the blink of an eye. You were up and launching yourself to the kitchen, hands fumbling as you pulled open drawer after drawer before you found the knives. You grabbed the largest one and swung around, but then you jumped back as you saw the person with the mask was in the living room.

Except the mask was in his hand and you recognized him. It was Frank’s friend Billy. Frank’s friend Billy who was being yelled at by Karen as she yanked the mask out of his hand.

Your body was still in fight or flight, the knife held aloft as if to ward off anyone from coming closer. When someone did move closer to you, you recognized that it was Frank but still couldn’t lower your arm. You heard your name being called, heard Karen say your name as well, but you still couldn’t move.

You were safe as long as you stayed right where you were. Your back was to a solid wall, the knife was in front of you. You would be safe, you would be…

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” a voice softly called to you from your left. You turned your head and saw Karen, a few feet away with her hands up, her face paler than you’d ever seen it. “It was just a mistake, a stupid prank. Everything is okay.”

Your eyes looked past Karen and Frank to where Billy stood, his eyes wide as he stared back at you. He raised his hands slowly and showed his palms. Then he spoke, or maybe just mouthed the words.

You are safe.

Safe. You shut your eyes for a moment and then when you opened them back up, the haze you had gone under when everything had happened was lifted. You dropped the knife and shrank back into the wall so that you wouldn’t crumple.

“Oh god,” you whimpered as you looked over at Karen, “I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

“No, of course not,” Frank answered as he grabbed the knife and put it on the counter.

Karen swooshed in and wrapped you in a hug. You held on as tight as you could and buried your face in her shoulder. You weren’t crying, no tears and no body wracking sobs. Just shook as adrenaline fled your body.

“I am so sorry,” a new voice said a few feet away. When you glanced up, you met Billy’s dark eyes as he stared at you and Karen. “I didn’t…I didn’t know. I thought it would be a funny prank, I didn’t know.”

Didn’t know what? You remembered seeing Karen yell at him as she pulled the mask from his hand and you assumed that maybe she had said something. Something to let him know that he just traumatized you a bit.

You sniffled and pulled away from Karen. Then you stepped a little closer to Billy.

“We haven’t been formally introduced. Hi, I’m…a survivor of a masked serial killer.”

Billy let out a shocked laugh and held his hand out to you.

“Nice to meet you.”

—

Karen and Frank had gone to bed around midnight and although you should have done the same, you found yourself still sitting in the living room with Billy at almost two in the morning. Once everything had settled down and Billy had apologized again for scaring you, you all had gone into the living room to talk and try to recoup from the events that had happened.

Once the couple had gone to bed, the comfortable silence had made you say something you hadn’t expected.

“It was my senior year. In total, nine people were killed. Including my mom and my brother. I think I was going to be number ten if my dad hadn’t arrived.”

With that, you spilled the whole story in a way you’d only done with Karen and with a few therapists. You told Billy everything that had happened and how it made you feel.

“I don’t leave my apartment much,” you admitted as you stared down at where your fingers were picking at the thread on the blanket over your lap. “Karen has helped a lot with that, and Frank too now. They help me get out and feel…safe. Halloween is a hard time because of the masks. It’s like I go right back to the den that night, feel like I’m going to die.”

“I’m really sorry about everything. I had no idea.”

“I know,” you whispered softly as you looked over to where Billy was watching you. “To be honest, that’s the scariest thing that’s happened to me since…since the attack. As messed up as it is, I think…I think it helped me.”

Billy tilted his head to show that he was listening, but he didn’t say anything. As if he knew him speaking would make you not say what was on your mind.

“I’ve been in a holding pattern since it all happened. I moved to the city for college and then I got an apartment and a job and somewhat of a life, but there’s a part of me that never left my hometown. A part of me that is still running around that room, thinking I was going to die. Tonight, when I was scared for my life again, I didn’t run. Or well, I did, but I was going to fight. I was going to…I wasn’t going to be caught unprepared again. I was going to fight.”

You bit your bottom lip as you looked down at your hands. Then slowly you grabbed your shirt and pulled up the hem to show your scar. It was the first time you’d voluntarily shown anyone besides doctors or Karen.

“This is just one of them, but...I was always ashamed. That I came out of that terrible night with just some scars. It never felt right that I was alive with just scars, when everyone else was gone.”

Billy’s eyes had moved down to the scar along your stomach, but the way they lingered didn’t make you feel hideous or like he thought you were a freak. In fact, the way his eyes moved along the skin made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Survivor’s guilt is a difficult thing,” he said as he finally raised his eyes to meet yours. “You have that fear, but you also feel guilty. Like you shouldn’t get to be carefree because you don’t think you should have survived.”

You lowered your shirt and thought about that, let it sit for a while. Then you closed your eyes and laughed.

“Six therapists. I’ve seen six therapists and no one has put it so perfectly.”

Billy leaned his head back against the couch for a moment and then looked over at you.

“Every tour that Frankie and I do, I always tell myself that I probably won’t make it back. I make smart decisions and I do what I can to survive, but I accepted a long time ago that no one would notice if I was gone.”

“Frank would,” you said softly, your eyes darting over to the hallway where Karen and Frank’s room was. “He said that you’re like a brother to him.”

When you looked back at Billy, he was staring at you with an emotion you couldn’t name.

“The guy. What happened to him?”

The jump from topics made you confused for a moment before you shook your head to clear it a bit.

“He was sentenced to death and a few years ago, he was executed.”

Billy nodded as he stood up, stretching a bit until his back popped.

“Good. That’s…good.”

He moved into the kitchen and you didn’t follow or try to speak to him while he was in there. You had a feeling that Billy was going through his own journey with the things that weighed on him, but you weren’t going to push.

When he came back into the living room, he gestured to the hall.

“Should probably head to bed. It’s late.”

You nodded and stood up. To extend the time with Billy, you grabbed the trash from the coffee table and moved into the kitchen to throw it away. When you opened the trash can, you stared down at the mask that had started it all.

“Here,” Billy said as he took the trash from you and pushed it into the can, burying the mask completely. “Like it never happened.”

You glanced up at Billy’s face and then nodded, even though you knew that wasn’t what you felt like at all. Just like you had said to Billy, you felt like the whole ordeal pushed you into the healing part of your journey. Now you honestly felt like you could breathe again.

It had been a long time coming, but you were starting to feel whole once more.

—

“I have a box of picture frames. Where do you want it?”

Karen looked over at you and then glanced at the messy living room.

“Put them on the coffee table for now? Honestly I have no idea what I want to do with this place.”

You laughed when you placed the heavy box on the coffee table. Honestly you didn’t blame Karen for being a bit overwhelmed. Frank and Billy and Curtis had moved the furniture into the house over the weekend so you and Karen took it on yourself to unpack as much as you could.

Karen and Frank’s new house was very nice and as everything was unloaded, it slowly became more and more like a home. You were happy for the two of them, even if you were a little envious.

Since that Halloween cabin trip, you had made a lot of strides with getting over your past. Even so, you were just starting to get your life back together.

Including going on a few dates over the last few weeks. Still nothing serious, but casual dating isn’t bad every now and then.

As you unpacked books for the bookshelf, you let your mind wander to Billy. Since that trip, all of you had gotten together a few times for other trips or just for a meal and a laugh. When Frank and Billy were deployed again, you and Karen sent care packages and kept in touch with them. It felt natural.

Karen got your attention as she came through with a box.

“I’m taking these clothes upstairs. Wanna stop for lunch soon?”

You agreed as you broke down the box you had been pulling stuff out of for the bookshelf. As you opened the next box, your phone started to ring in your pocket. When you looked at the screen, you saw Billy’s contact on there and answered immediately.

“Hey Billy,” you greeted as you started to pull the books out for the bookshelf.

When his voice came through, it was obvious he was calling from his car.

“Hey, uh, you and Karen unpacking?”

“Yeah, about to stop for lunch though. What’s up?”

He didn’t say anything at first which made you stop unloading the box. You stood up and turned as if you expected to see him behind you, even though you could still hear the car in the background.

“Have you seen the news? From your old town.”

Your chest felt like it became a bit too tight at those words. The last time you’d heard a version of that, it was your dad calling to tell you about the execution.

“No.”

He sighed a bit which made you tense to the point where you had to turn to sit down on the chair nearest you.

“There was an attack in your town two nights ago. From what I know, it was…your childhood home.”

There was a moment where you were really glad you sat down because otherwise you think your legs would have given out. As your mind swirled, you tried to think of what to ask first.

You knew that Billy had looked into your story after you told him about it. Hearing your version of events made him want to see it from start to finish so he’d looked it up. There was still a lot of information on it, including the lack of any real motive.

“An attack?”

“The police were called to the house when they heard screams. The mom and a son were on an overnight field trip so it was just the dad and daughter in the house. By the time they got there, the dad and daughter had both been brutally murdered.”

You closed your eyes and remembered what it felt like to have someone break into your house with the intention of killing you.

“They were found in the finished basement on the floor.”

Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. Your mouth went dry as you thought about stepping into the basement den and finding your mom and brother. The healed scars felt like they were bleeding and even though it was impossible, you still reached into your shirt to see if there was any blood from the scar.

Nothing.

“Did they find who did it?”

“They were gone, but there was a note stabbed to the door. It just had a date on it.”

“What date?”

When Billy said the date that was on the note, you half expected it to be the date you had been attacked, but it wasn’t. It was only from a few years ago, so you didn’t think it had anything to do with what had happened, just a coincidence.

Until…

“Wasn’t that the date he was executed?”

You closed your eyes as you realized that Billy was right. It had been a while since you’d thought about the date, but thinking about it you were pretty sure that Billy was right.

“His uh, his last words were that he’d be back.”

“That’s impossible. He’s dead, there’s no way he can be back.”

You almost laughed because yes, you knew that. You knew that it was impossible, but that’s what he said either way. Instead you felt tears start to gather in your eyes as you settled more into the chair.

“I’d come by but I’m out of town. Maybe stay with Karen and Frankie tonight, okay? Just…I don’t think you’re in danger, but I still don’t think you should be alone.”

You nodded and wiped at your eyes.

“Thanks Billy. I’ll talk to Karen when she comes downstairs. I’ll uh, I’ll talk to you later? Drive safely.”

“It’s all going to be okay. I promise.”

You hoped he was right but you didn’t know. Nothing felt right at the moment.

All you knew was as the call with Billy ended, you needed to call your dad to let him know about it. Once upon a time you thought that things were over, but not anymore. Now you were thinking things were just about to begin.

—

It was dark out as you made your way through the parking lot to where your car was parked. In the background you could hear your coworkers laughing as they headed to their own cars. A shouted invitation to join them at the bar came over, but you waved them off and promised next time.

Which you’d actually follow through with. It wasn’t like it had been before, where you kept to yourself at all times. You’d branched out, made friends, started working from the office just as much as you worked from home. You still kept certain things to yourself of course, a habit you were unable to break anytime soon, but you opened yourself up to people.

The car chirped as you unlocked it and slid into the front seat, immediately locking the doors again. As you started the car, you noticed something on your windshield. A folded piece of paper tucked under your windshield wiper.

Carefully you leaned forward and leaned out of the window to pull the paper out of the wiper. It came free after a tug. Once settled back in the seat, you rolled the window back up and looked at the paper. You unfolded it and stared at it.

Did you miss me?

Your hands shook as you dropped the paper into your passenger seat. Then, without hesitation, you started towards the entrance to the parking lot. Your headlights went across someone in the distance but you didn’t even focus on them, just stepped on the gas to get out of the parking lot.

The person didn’t move at least, seen from the corner of your eye as you sped out. It was possible it wasn’t anyone to worry about, someone from the office or just someone passing by.

As you headed to the freeway, you connected your bluetooth and dialed Karen’s number. It went to voicemail and you swore as you hung up. You were about to call her again when you hesitated.

For some reason, you wanted to call Billy. So that’s what you did.

He answered after a few rings.

“Hey, what’s up? Leaving work?”

Your hands shook a bit as you navigated through the traffic on the street.

“I came out of work and there was a note on my windshield.”

“Okay. Did you…”

“I grabbed it,” you admitted as you drove around a slow driver in the fast lane. “I realize now that I shouldn’t have, that it could have been…but I grabbed it.”

“It sounds like you’re driving so at least nothing happened. What did it say?”

You glanced down at the paper in your passenger seat and then immediately back up to the road.

“Did you miss me?”

“Fuck,” Billy breathed out, the connection distorting a bit from the force. “This isn’t good. I thought that whoever it was wouldn’t come all this way, but it sounds like maybe he did. Maybe you’re a target.”

Your chest felt tight as you pulled onto the street where you lived.

“I need to call to check on my dad. I’m almost home so I’ll call him when I get inside.”

“You don’t need to go to your place, not alone. Do you think Karen is home yet?”

“I tried to call Karen first,” you said as you drove past your house, your eyes on your rearview mirror just to check. “She didn’t answer so I called you.”

“That’s okay, never hesitate to call me if you need me. But for now, come to Anvil. Frank is there, I’ll let him know what’s going on. We’re gonna make sure you’re never alone until this guy is caught, okay?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. You knew the way to Anvil easily enough, but that didn’t stop your heart from thudding in your chest. Whether this guy was connected to the man who had done the original attacks or it was a copycat, it didn’t matter. Right now all that mattered was that you could be in danger.

“I need to call my dad,” you said again.

“I know, but stay on the phone with me for right now, okay? I don’t want something to happen to you while you’re out.”

You wished that you could close your eyes or burrow into yourself, but you had to focus on the road. Instead you lowered your voice a bit.

“I’m scared Billy.”

His sigh came through the phone so clear that it felt like he was in the car with you.

“I know. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

He couldn’t promise that, not really, but you didn’t say that. Instead you simply listened to the ambient noise of the connection all the way to Anvil.

—

Your dad’s cell phone rang to the voicemail twice, but you didn’t stop. As you clicked it again, you looked over to where Frank and Billy were talking. Billy had gotten to Anvil a little bit before you did and had filled Frank in by time you got there. The two of them were discussing a plan, although you weren’t sure what for just yet.

All you cared about was getting in touch with your dad. He didn’t normally miss a call, not like this.

On the third time you called, the line was finally answered but it wasn’t your dad’s voice that greeted you.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hello...you have my dad’s phone. Who is this?”

The men turned to you when they heard what you had asked, both with concern on their faces.

“Hello miss. My name is Dr Roberts. Your father was brought in earlier this evening. He had been in a car accident.”

As he explained what had happened, you felt yourself sway. If you hadn’t already been sitting, you would have fallen over. Instead, as you were obviously struggling to focus on the words the doctor was saying, Frank came over and took the phone from you. He didn’t go far as he spoke, asking the questions you should have been asking.

“Hey. I’m right here.”

You blinked a few times and looked over to where Billy had knelt down in front of you, his hand in yours. You didn’t even notice him coming to your side or touching you. With a shake of your head, you looked over to where Frank was giving you a comforting head nod as he asked about hospital security.

“Oh god,” you breathed as you finally let yourself shake a bit. “My dad, he was in a car accident.”

“I know, but he’s okay. He’s in recovery and he’s going to be okay.”

Your eyes slammed shut as you tried to remember what the doctor had said before Frank had taken over.

“Earlier this evening. He had been in a car accident earlier this evening.”

Billy stared up at you. Then, with a glance over to Frank, he moved to sit next to you on the couch.

“He lives about thirty minutes away, right? Be enough time for the copycat to leave the note on your car and then go after your dad.”

Your hand contracted around Billy’s as you looked at the note that was on the table where you’d left it.

“There was someone in the parking lot when I got in the car. I didn’t see them very well, too far away and too desperate to leave. What if that was him? It’s not like he can be in two places at once.”

Saying that made your heart stutter in your chest as you remembered something. Something from so long ago that it had been buried.

“What is it?”

You looked over at Billy and then back to the note.

“The murders. The original murders. The only other night where two people died on the same night besides…” You let your words trail off, unable to mention your mom and brother right then. “It was never investigated and as much as I can remember, it was never talked about in the trial, but there had been speculation back then. The first murder that night was on the mainland and the second murder was on a little island. The newspapers said it should have been impossible for one person to cross that distance on the ferry in the time between murders, so they were looking for a boat that might have been used. But what if there wasn’t a boat? What if there were two murderers this whole time?”

Billy looked at the note and then over to Frank who was nodding as if he had heard. You caught a quick snippet of him telling the doctor that one of Anvil’s men would be there as soon as possible to provide extra security.

“If there were two murderers back then, then it isn’t a copycat. It’s a continuation.”

Your hands went around your stomach as if to hold you together, fingers seeking out those rigid scars under your top.

“Why me? Why my family? We never did anything to anyone.”

“It can be a fixation of finishing what was started. It can be the chase because you got away. Revenge because you got his partner killed. There’s a lot of reasons someone might keep going after you.”

You wanted to laugh, but the logic was important. You needed the reality of this before you lost yourself.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered as you stared down at your hands with tears in your eyes. “I want to see my dad.”

“We’ll take you,” Frank said as he passed you the phone, the screen showing the call had ended. “I’m going to pick up Karen and tell her what’s going on. Then we’ll take you to your dad.”

“Maybe we should wait,” Billy said as he stood up to face Frank. “Get Karen, get someone from Anvil to sit on her dad, but if we drag her out of the city, we can’t be sure that he won’t follow us and more people will get hurt. Here, we’re on our turf.”

As the men discussed the pros and cons of both plans, you let your hand go back to the scar. The fear that had gone through you that night in the basement den of your childhood home had started to come back, but as it rose, so did something else. A strength you never knew you had.

The strength to survive.

“I’m staying,” you said finally, cutting off their conversation. “If he wants to finish what he started, he can start with me. I’m not running again.”

Both men looked at you and you saw the pride in their eyes. Frank pulled out his phone.

“I’m going to get Karen. We’ll stick together. You and Bill should stick together too. We’ll come up with a plan to draw him out and we’ll end this.”

Your eyes went to Billy’s and found those dark eyes were already on yours.

“I’ll take you to my place. We’ll be safe there.”

This was it. The final standoff.

For years you’d thought you were safe, that the danger had been left behind you. Now, whatever happened, you knew it would really be over.

—

“Here, this will be more comfortable,” Billy explained as he handed you some of his clothes.

You hadn’t gone back to your place, unwilling to take the chance. Instead Billy had brought you straight to his over the top apartment and told you to make yourself at home.

You went into the bathroom to change, placing your clothes on the side of the sink where you could change back into them in the morning. As you stared at yourself in the mirror in Billy’s clothes, you felt your throat catch a bit.

Inch by inch you raised the shirt and looked at the scar on your stomach. Then, even though you had just put the shirt on, you pulled it off and held it to your chest as you turned. With your back facing the mirror, you looked over your shoulder and looked at the scars there.

You had felt the knife tear through your skin. The stitches hadn’t been nearly enough to keep the scars from being ugly, but you didn’t care anymore. Once upon a time they made you ashamed, but why should they? They meant you were a survivor.

A survivor.

“Hey, are you…”

Billy had knocked on the door and it came open fully since you hadn’t shut it all the way in your daze. He looked at your back in the mirror for a long moment before he met your eyes.

“Are you hungry? I was going to make dinner.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked down from his gaze in the mirror to the scars.

“They don’t bother you.”

It wasn’t asked, it was stated. When his gaze flickered away from the mirror, you turned to face him in the doorway. His eyes went down the scars on your stomach. The ones you had showed him that first night in the cabin after he had scared you. He walked towards you and reached out, slowly as if to let you move away if you wanted to.

You didn’t want to.

When those fingers touched your scar, you shivered but didn’t pull away. His eyes moved from the scar and landed on your face.

“We all have scars,” he said softly as his eyes dropped to your mouth. “Shows that you’re a survivor.”

A survivor. He had echoed the words you had thought right before he’d walked in.

“Billy,” you began but he shook his head.

“Later,” he promised as he leaned in and captured your lips with his.

Since you were going to ask if you could kiss him, you found yourself happy with this change of pace. The shirt was dropped to the floor. Chest bared, you leaned in and wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer. Even as his hand skimmed up your back and slowly touched the scars there, you didn’t pull away.

You were done pulling away.

Billy led you to the bedroom. As you pulled your pants and underwear off, Billy beat the record to pull his clothes off as well. His shirt was already on the floor and while he worked on his pants, you caught the scars on his shoulder and side.

Your fingers went to the ones on his shoulder first, tracing over them. Then you touched the one low on his side.

“What are these from?”

Billy placed his hand over yours as you touched the one on his side.

“I’ll tell you all about them. After,” he added as he leaned in to kiss you again.

You smiled against his lips, unable to help yourself. It wasn’t like you’d never thought about kissing Billy. In fact you’d thought about it a lot, even that first night when he’d scared you nearly to death. There had always been some sort of attraction between the two of you, something you never dwelled on because you hadn’t been interested in making things awkward between the two of you.

Although now you didn’t think that it would be very awkward. Something told you that Billy was just as interested as you were.

Instead of focusing on the scars on either of you, you decided to focus on Billy and the way he was making you feel.

There’d be time to talk later.

—

Billy wasn’t in the apartment when you woke up, but a note on the table said that he had to run to Anvil and would pick up breakfast on his way back. You had smiled at the note and folded it to put into your pocket. You were stupidly enamored by that man.

As you went over to the coffee pot that looked like it belonged in a spaceship, you heard your phone ring from your purse on the coffee table. With the reminder that your dad was in the hospital, you rushed over and grabbed it.

It was him. You immediately answered.

“Dad? Are you okay?”

“Hey kiddo,” your dad answered, his voice drowsy and laced with pain. “Finally awake enough to call. Wanted to hear your voice. The goon at the door said you’d called and talked to the doctor.”

“Dad.” Your voice broke as you slumped onto the couch. “Dad, you…do you remember what happened? Who did it?”

There was silence for a long moment before your dad sighed, the noise a bit strangled as he wheezed.

“I only saw him for a split second, but I’d recognize it anywhere. I thought I was seeing things.” You listened as he shifted, the bed crinkling him under him loud enough for you to hear over the phone. “He came by when I was in the car. I think he thought I was dead or maybe unconscious, but I heard his voice. I heard him tell me it was about time.”

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around you as tight as you could.

“I had a letter on my windshield last night. It asked me if I missed him. I don’t think it’s a copycat dad. I think that he was involved in the original murders.”

The slow beeps from the phone was the only way you knew the call hadn’t failed. Then your dad finally spoke.

“I think you’re right. I don’t know why, but I agree.”

At least you were all on the same page with that.

Your phone buzzed with an incoming call and you checked it to see that it was Billy. After you told your dad you’d call him back in a bit, you switched over to talk to him.

“Hey, is everything okay at Anvil?”

“You’re still at the apartment, right? You didn’t leave.”

You looked around for some reason and then sat up a bit straighter.

“Yeah, I’m still here. What happened?”

There was a lot going on in the background in the call and you strained your ears enough to pick up a few words. By things you could hear, Billy was near a bunch of cops.

“There was another murder. Your next door neighbor, Melinda Geillis.”

You knew Melinda well enough, the two of you often talked in the elevators or hallway. You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head.

“Are we sure it was him?”

Billy said something quietly to someone nearby and then it was quiet on the other side of the phone.

“Her throat was slit and then she was dragged into your apartment and propped up on your couch like she was watching television.”

The memory of your brother’s body flashed before your eyes. Yeah, that was him.

“There’s a note here too. It says ‘sorry I missed you’.”

You flinched at that. Then your hand went to your pocket where Billy’s note was. The feel of the paper comforted you a bit.

“Dad said he saw him, recognized the outfit from the night of the attack. He also said he heard his voice. The guy came by after the accident and was taunting my dad, either because he thought he was dead or thought he wouldn’t hear. He said it was about time.”

Billy swore through his teeth. You could almost picture his face as he absorbed that information.

“We’re gonna catch this guy, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you or to your dad. Not again.”

You let out a breath and then slumped against the couch a bit.

“How’d you find out anyway? I mean, if it was in my apartment, you’d think I would have heard about it first.”

“I was driving by and saw the police presence,” Billy explained softly as someone came through the room he was in, talking about taking pictures. “I asked what happened and they let me know. I’ve worked with enough local law enforcement so they let me up. The detective in charge is going to call you, but…I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

You laughed a bit as you reached up to rub at your eyes.

“Thank you Billy. Really.”

“I’ll come pick you up and bring you to the station so we can coordinate with the locals. Just stay inside and keep the door locked, okay? There’s a spare gun in the safe; the combination is 7895.”

You looked over at the safe, but didn’t make moves to go get it. You weren’t big on guns.

“I’ll see you shortly Billy. Thanks again.”

When the call was over, you leaned back and wrapped your arms around your legs. It had been such a long morning already and you’d only been awake for an hour.

At some point this would be over, wouldn’t it? One way or another.

—

The police station wasn’t a place you’d spent a lot of time since you’d come to the city. Once upon a time, in the little seaside town you’d grown up in, you’d been in the police station a lot. Not for any nefarious reasons of course, simply because your dad had worked for the force. You’d gotten comfortable in police stations.

Now though? You had to admit that you were very uneasy. It wasn’t the people themselves of course, they were just your run of the mill law enforcement officers. No, you were uneasy because of the reason you were there.

Billy had suggested that you not see the pictures from the crime scene, but you reminded him that you had lived through it once.

It was like seeing a ghost. Your neighbor’s body was propped up in a mirror of your brother’s, down to the television being on in front of her and playing the news. You tried not to stare into her lifeless eyes, but in the close up picture your only other option was to look at the gash across her neck.

There had been a struggle. She had fought hard.

After some questions and rehashing the details with the police, you were led to the front lobby to leave, but Billy doubled back to coordinate coverage at your dad’s hospital room. While he did that, you called your dad to let him know what was going on.

“You gotta leave the city,” your dad said sternly. “I don’t want to lose you. You need to leave, you need to get somewhere this maniac will never find you.”

“Dad, I can’t leave. Look what happened when I stayed somewhere else for one night? Who knows what will happen if–”

“Hey, they said we can head out whenever,” Billy called as he approached. He nodded to where your phone was against your ear, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just my dad. Hey dad, I’ve got to–”

Your name from your dad made you pause what you were saying, only slightly annoyed by being interrupted again. Something in your dad’s voice made you stop speaking, stop breathing. There was terror in his voice.

“Who is that? With you right now. Who is with you?”

You looked over at Billy who was frowning in concern.

“It’s my friend Billy, the one I’ve told you about? He’s the one that brought me to the police station after what happened at my apartment.”

There was a long pause that made you a little antsy.

“You need to get away from him right now. You need to get out of there. Immediately.”

��Dad–”

“Stop. Don’t let him know, but leave. Go back into the station, stay with them. Get away from him. That’s the voice I heard after my accident.”

You swallowed thickly as you heard those words, your eyes going from Billy to the door he had just come through. You could see police officers moving around through the glass door. From the peripheral you could see Billy watching you, barely making out the concern still on his face as you stood a little straighter.

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be one hundred percent sure, not over a phone, but it sounds just like him. Please, get away from him.”

With your eyes closed, you listened to your dad plead with you while you remembered the way that Billy had touched you the night before. Was it possible? Was it possible that Billy was this person that was tormenting you? Killing people?

The things you knew about Billy told you that anything was possible.

You nodded and then made a noise like you were listening to your dad as you reached and patted yourself, as if looking for something.

“Billy, can you check and see if I left my wallet in the interview room,” you said with a glance over at him. “I don’t want to see the pictures again but I think I left my wallet in there.”

“Sure,” he said with a nod and a brief touch to your arm.

When he disappeared behind the door to head back to the interview room, you grabbed your wallet out of your pocket and nearly ran from the police station. On the road you found a cab that was thankfully letting someone out of the door at the same time that you’d gotten there, so you simply slid right in. Then you thought about where to go.

After you gave the address to the hospital your dad was at, you glanced over your shoulder to the door of the police station. Right as the cab started to pull away from the curb, you saw Billy step out and look around. You didn’t know if he saw you or not, but you settled back into your seat and let out a sigh.

“I’m headed to you dad,” you said softly. “I don’t know if you’re right, I don’t see how Billy could…but I’m on my way.”

You had no idea how to explain what your dad may or may not have heard. You couldn’t imagine that Billy was the one that had done those things. How would he have even been involved?

But you remembered that every time something had happened, Billy had been gone. He’d been on the road after the attacks back home, he’d been out when the note had been left on your car and your dad had been hit, he’d been out when your neighbor was attacked.

Was it possible that billy wasn’t who you thought he was? Was it possible that you’d slept with someone you shouldn’t have trusted?

The mere thought made your stomach turn.

—

The officer at the door was a bit confused when you told him not to let an Anvil employee watch the door alone, but he reluctantly agreed without you explaining why. He was agreeable otherwise.

Your dad looked rough, but he smiled tightly when you came into the room. His eyes cut to the door and then back to you as you shut it behind you.

“His men were out there, weren’t they? Are they still?”

“Not right now,” you said as you went over to his side to grab his hand. “I still don’t know for sure, but if that’s what you heard, then I have to trust you.”

Your dad winced as he leaned closer to you, his hand tight on yours.

“We can’t stay here. From what I’ve been able to tell, he has a lot of pull with the locals.”

“Dad, you can’t go anywhere. Look at you, you’re barely able to sit up right now. I can’t lug you around, I’m not strong enough for that.”

Your dad closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

“So you need to go somewhere else. Somewhere without telling anyone. Once you’re gone, I’ll talk to a detective about my theory and we’ll have him looked into.”

You shook your head as he spoke.

“No, I can’t leave without you,” you cried as you hugged him, gently to keep from hurting him. “If something happened to you while I was gone, it would kill me. I can’t lose you.”

“I’ll be safe here until I’m able to get out myself. I’ll call a friend to come sit with me for a while. You’re my only concern, you’re my priority.”

You wiped your tears off your cheeks as you pulled back a bit. With a sniffle you glanced over at the door to see the back of the cop’s head as he pulled his phone to his ear. As he nodded and looked over his shoulder at you, you felt something cold wash over you.

“I have to go now. I think Billy’s trying to find out if I’m here.”

“Then go sweetheart. Do you remember the plan for Tallahassee?”

The codeword made you shake a bit. It was picked after your mom and brother had been killed as it’s where your mom had originally been from. If something ever happened and you and your dad had to run off, you’d go to a location that was a secret between the two of you. Far away from Tallahassee, but it was a word that could be used even in front of others without being discovered.

You really hoped you never had to use it.

“One week and then I’ll head to Tallahassee,” you said as you stood up and wiped tears from your eyes again. “Then when you’re better, you can join me.”

“One week for us both, whether or not I’m feeling better.”

The old man was stubborn. You laughed a bit as you leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Then the forehead.

“I love you dad,” you said as you placed another kiss on his forehead.

“I love you too kiddo,” he repeated as he squeezed your hand. “Go. Get out of here and be safe.”

That’s all that there was to it. And now you needed to figure out where to go to wait out the week.

You’d need to stop at some ATMs to get money out so that you wouldn’t leave a trail. Something told you that Billy would use whatever resources he had to find you and you weren’t going to give him that chance.

—

The man at the front desk of the motel didn’t even look at your ID or anything else as you pushed the cash over for the week. He simply counted the bills and then handed you the key.

“Ice machine doesn’t work, vending machines are on the first floor, pool is closed for now.”

You tucked the rest of your money into your waller and palmed the key, mumbling a thanks to him as you turned and walked out of the office. Your room was on the second floor so you made it up the stairs with the crinkle of the grocery bags you carried your freshly bought clothes in. At room 17, you put the key into the lock and turned it. It stuck a bit but came open after that.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered as you dropped the grocery bags onto the bed.

You’d bought some clothes and some other necessities on your way out of the city. Here you were, about six hours from the city, settling into a motel that didn’t even have a sign to tell you the name.

At some point you’d need to go to the vending machines and get a few snacks. Maybe try to find a local grocery store where you could get some nonperishable items. There was a microwave in the room and a mini-fridge. More like a mini-mini-fridge, but whatever.

You felt naked without your cell phone, but you definitely knew that you could be tracked with that, so you’d left it at the hospital.

With a sigh you sat on the bed and grimaced a bit at the hardness of the mattress. Not exactly comfortable, but you’d make do. If it meant not losing your life, you’d lose some comfort. The remote was next to the bed so you grabbed it and turned the television on, turning the volume down a good deal just in case. You never trusted these places.

One channel surf later you landed on the news. It touched on a bunch of national stuff before it narrowed in to local and you waited to see if anything would come up about the killer. It never came.

After the news cycled over to some infomercials, you grabbed some money and left your room, locking it behind you. You checked your surroundings carefully before you headed down the stairs to the vending machine.

There were only about five cars in the parking lot besides yours. You looked over each and tried to commit them to memory before you stepped into the alcove where the vending machines were. You grabbed a bottle of water and an energy drink from one and then some chips and some chocolate from the other. Hands full, you stepped out of the alcove and looked around on your way to the stairs.

Six cars.

You stopped where you were and stared at the new car, a nondescript dark colored sedan. Between the distance and the darkness, you couldn’t tell if there was anyone in the car. They were parked in front of the office though, so it was possible that it was another person here just to get a room. It wasn’t far off the beaten track from the interstate so maybe they found it the same way you did.

With a deep inhale, you held your breath and ran up the stairs. You had to juggle the items in your hands to get your key back out and back into the room. It didn’t stick this time so you were able to get in and shut it behind you in mere seconds, locking it and the chain behind you.

Then you pulled the chair from the corner and pushed it in front of the door.

Once that was done you put your items down on the dresser and moved further into the room. The bathroom was open so you could see into it clearly, but you turned on the light and looked around just in case. Even checked behind the shower curtain. Then you checked the half closet which wasn’t really big enough to hold a grown man.

You looked under the bed but there was a trundle bed so not enough room for someone to fit.

Satisfied that the room was empty besides yourself, you went over to the window and peered out. The angle you had didn’t allow you to see much, but you could see your car at least.

Tomorrow you’d head out to a nearby grocery or convenience store to get what you needed for the rest of the week. Once you were through the week and could head to the meeting place with your dad, things would be fine. You’d be safe again.

You still couldn’t believe that Billy was the one doing this to you. Part of you refused to believe it, the part that had had sex with him and laid in his arms the whole night. The rest of you had more questions than you had answers and when faced with the unknown, you had to rely on what you could put together. Your dad had said he couldn’t be certain but felt it was a close enough similarity to demand you leave and save yourself.

That night when you curled up on the hard as hell mattress, the thin blanket pulled over your body and the television providing light into the room, you weren’t sure you’d ever fall asleep. Not with how your brain was on turbo mode.

But you were able to finally fall asleep somewhere after two in the morning.

—

The third night at the motel had been as uneventful as the other two. You had gotten some food at a nearby convenience store so you didn’t have to rely on vending machine snacks. You also got a deck of cards so you could play solitaire with yourself to waste time.

The news still didn’t say anything about what was happening, but you had to imagine there were constant murders in the city so maybe it didn’t make the radar yet. You didn’t know how many more deaths it would take for it to hit the news cycle but you hoped it didn’t get to that.

As you crossed the room to do your hourly check of the window, you wondered what everyone else was doing. Your dad, Karen, Frank…even Billy.

Since you’d been in the motel, you’d spent a lot of time thinking about Billy. Thinking about him being the killer, thinking about it all being a miscommunication. The more you thought about him, the less you felt certain one way or another.

As you stared out the window, you checked the parts of the parking lot that you could see and then looked over to where your car was parked. As you looked at it, you noticed someone walking past your car and towards the office. It was dark so you couldn’t make out who the person was, but you traced their steps back to see if there was another car nearby that they had come out of.

There was a truck not far from your car that was in line with the path they were taking, but it had been there since yesterday.

You looked at the chair in front of your door and made sure it was still pressed against the door. This way at least you knew you would have a warning if someone tried to get into the room while you were there.

Back on the bed you grabbed the cards and shuffled them a bit. It was time for more solitaire. You really wished you’d grabbed something else, anything else at this point. It was hard to go without a phone to spend your time, but you were making do.

A noise outside made you look over to the window with the blinds down. A streetlight let a little light in and you stared at it for a long time until you watched a little darkness move over the window. Someone was walking past your window towards your door.

You held your breath and waited. When you heard the door beside yours open, you let it out with a sigh. It was another person staying in the hotel.

Without winning the current game of solitaire, you turned off the light and stacked the cards on the bedside table. You had a flashlight that you’d gotten at the convenience store that you kept nearby as you curled up on the bed, your eyes on the window and door. When no sounds came to you, no change in the minimal light that trickled through, you felt yourself drift off to sleep.

A dream came to you then, while you dozed in and out. A darkness seemed to pour into the room from the ceiling, like a shadow but more solid. The darkness seemed to melt and shift along the lines of the ceiling, never fully there as you stared up at it.When you woke up, it was with your back to the window and door, a blank wall in front of you. The first thing you did was look up to the ceiling but there were no shadows moving around.

You rolled over to your other side and immediately checked the window, but nothing had changed. It was still dark out there, still a slight amount of light pouring through the window. You blinked lazily and rubbed your eyes before you looked at the door to check that the chair was still there.

It wasn’t. It was in the corner now and someone was in it.

You sat up and opened your mouth to scream, but it didn’t come out as the occupant leaned forward and was lit up by the incoming light stream.

Billy.

“How’d you find me?”

There was a beat of silence as he nodded then sat back so that he disappeared a bit from your sight.

“It wasn’t easy. You really tried to drop off the grid. It’s my job to be able to find people though.”

“Yeah,” you said uneasily as you shrank back in the bed a bit, your legs pulling to your chest and bracing just in case you needed to jump up. “How’d you get in here without making a noise? The chair…”

“Took some maneuvering. I figured you’d do something like that.”

You blinked and tried to nod a bit. Of course he’d know how to get through your defenses. You should have known.

“What are you going to do to me?”

It was quiet for a long moment before Billy leaned forward again to look at you. You wished you could see whatever emotions were in those dark eyes, but from this distance the dark brown was pitch black and it made you feel hunted.

“Why would I do anything to you? I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Safe. You’d heard the word a lot, but it had been a long time since you felt it. And right then, with Billy sitting in a chair across the room, you didn’t know if safe is what you felt at all.

What was the next step? Did you confront him for who you suspected he was? Did you wait for him to prove you right or wrong?

“Why didn’t you let me protect you? I could have gotten you and your dad somewhere safe. Then maybe…”

You watched as he looked away from you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Maybe what?”

He looked over at you and shook his head.

“You left your phone at the hospital so you hadn’t heard. The killer broke into the hospital, somehow got through the security we had on your dad. He survived, got a few stab wounds, but the killer took down two of my men and a police officer.”

You felt sick. Your body bowed in and you pressed your face into your knees as you thought about it. At least your dad was alive, but being stabbed on top of already suffering from the car accident couldn’t be good.

“He’s alive. He’ll stay alive,” Billy said as a hand came down to rest on your shoulder.

You jerked backwards as he touched you, body nearly falling off the bed as you tried to get away from the touch. When you looked up and met his concerned gaze, you couldn’t help the pitiful laugh that came from you.

“What will it take? What do I have to do?”

Your stomach rolled as you thought about what he might say.

“What are you talking about?”

At some point tears had started to flow down your cheeks as you stared up at Billy. His hand on your shoulder, the scent of the cologne that he always wore, it made you feel lost in memories you couldn’t afford to be lost in.

“He heard your voice. The day of his accident, he heard the killer and when he heard your voice at the police station, he said it was you.”

Billy’s hand fell to his side as he stared down at your crumpled form.

“My voice? So you…what, think I’m the other murderer? This whole time. Even from when you were in high school?”

You closed your eyes for a long moment and then shook your head.

“I don’t…I don’t know Billy. He said he heard you. And every time there was a murder, you weren’t with someone who could account for your whereabouts. What am I supposed to think?”

He crossed his arms and took a few steps back to lean against the wall across from you.

“I’ve killed before. More than a few times and not all of them deserved it. But I never killed anyone stateside that I didn’t have to.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you stared at Billy.

“He heard you Billy. He recognized your voice.”

“He had a concussion. Maybe he heard something, someone, but how could he be sure it was me? Especially since the second time was just over the phone.”

You wiped the tears out of your eyes as you stared up at him.

“I can’t take the chance Billy. I can’t take the chance that you’re someone who wants to hurt me.”

“I could never hurt you,” Billy swore as he walked closer to you. Then he shook his head as he turned away. “But you’re right. You can’t take the chance. If I’d known this was your worry, I never would have come here.”

He got to the door and right as you thought about telling him not to leave, to ask him to talk the rest of this through with you, he opened the door and things happened so quickly after that.

A masked man stood on the other side of the door. The moment it came open, he raised his knife and brought it down hard into Billy’s shoulder. You screamed and shoved yourself up and off the bed, body stuck between going to the door and further away.

You grabbed Billy and pulled him back, body slamming against the door to try to close it. Billy threw his body weight into it too, wincing as the shoulder with the blood pouring through it slammed against the wood. The two of you got the door slammed shut but you still didn’t move.

“Believe me now?” Billy asked through gritted teeth as he moved around you to peer through the peephole. “He’s not there. He’ll come back though.”

You nodded as you tried to get your brain to get back on path. While Billy kept his body against the door, you grabbed a washcloth from the dresser and pressed it hard against his shoulder to stem the blood flow.

“What are we going to do?”

Billy accepted the cloth and held it against his shoulder. With his free hand he reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife which he pressed into your hands. As you were about to ask what he was going to use, he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his jeans and checked that it was ready..

“We need to make a run for the car. We can call the cops once we’re on the road.”

You nodded and grabbed your wallet from the dresser and shoved it into the pocket of your sweats. There was nothing else here that you needed to make sure you had. Prepared, you grabbed Billy’s uninjured shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“I should go first.”

“I don’t care if I was missing an arm. You’re not going first,” Billy said through gritted teeth as he shoved the cloth under his jacket. Then he moved to tuck you behind him. “You stay at my back, okay? Keep the knife up and let me know if I need to turn and shoot. Are you ready?”

No.

“Yeah,” you breathed as you stood at his side.

He went out first and looked both directions a few times before he motioned for you to follow him. He gestured to keep you close to him. You stepped out and didn’t bother shutting the door as the two of you headed to the stairs. As you made your way past the front office, you noticed blood sprayed on the wall behind where the man had sat at the computer.

“Oh god,” you whimpered as you kept as close to Billy as you could.

“Eyes forward baby, we can’t wait. We’re almost there.”

He was leading you to his car, not yours. You looked behind the two of you to see if someone was out there, aware of what was going on, but you saw nothing. Heard nothing but the pounding of your heart between your ears.

At the car, Billy unlocked it and tugged you to go to the passenger door. As you reached out, you saw something from the corner of your eye.

“BILLY!”

He spun you around and thrust himself between the two of you, his gun raised at the man that had been running at you. He stopped, his knife still raised. The eerie black mask tilted this way and that as he stared at the two of you.

“You can’t win. Gun beats knife.”

“I don’t have to win. I just have to take one of you down with me.”

That voice. It sounded similar to Billy’s, enough that if you’d heard it you might think the same thing. But you didn’t dwell on that as you watched the man launch himself forward at the two of you. The gun went off and the attacker faltered, but he kept on running. When his body ran into Billy’s and shoved you against the car, you heard the gun skitter to the asphalt.

As the attacker stabbed the knife into Billy’s side again, the moan of pain coming from the man you were trying to hold up, you realized that you didn’t have a choice. You had to lean around Billy to do what you needed to.

The knife went straight into the attacker’s bicep first. Then you pulled it out and swung out, harder this time. As it went into the attacker’s neck, Billy reached up and took hold of your wrist and thrusted it in harder. The attacker’s scream echoed through the emptyish parking lot, you stepped around Billy and pulled the knife out before you plunged it in again.

Billy’s hand didn’t leave your wrist as you thrusted the knife into the man’s neck and chest, over and over. When the attacker fell, you almost went with him just to keep going, but Billy wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you up.

“He’s gone,” Billy said into your ear as he held you tight. “He’s gone. You can stop.”

You closed your eyes for a long moment before you looked at the body slumped at your feet. He was gone. He was gone and this was over.

The knife fell to the ground next, clattering loudly as it bounced a bit. Your eyes burned as you stared at the man who had tried once more to end your life.

“Who…”

Billy squeezed your hip and then bent down. You shook your head because you didn’t know where Billy’s wounds were but you were worried he would hurt himself worse than he already was. You followed him down, hands immediately on his sides to check his injuries.

“No, no, stop,” he said as he pushed your hands away for a second. “We need to…”

He reached out for the man’s mask but you grabbed his wrist and stopped him. When he pulled his hand away, you reached out for the mask yourself.

The man under it was completely nondescript. You weren’t sure that you’d ever seen him before in your life, not here or back home. He looked like any man you may have passed on the street a thousand times.

“I don’t know who that is,” you said as you stared at him.

“He’s dead. That’s who he is.”

You slumped on the ground next to the car. When Billy passed his cell phone to you, you immediately dialed 911. Billy needed an ambulance. And this needed to be put to an end immediately.

As the dispatcher answered, you remembered the first time you’d made this call. Instead of staring at the death of your mom and brother, you were staring at Billy’s bleeding body and his tired eyes.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance and a lot of cops. We were just attacked by a known serial killer and we had to kill him to defend ourselves.”

Billy smiled with pride at you as he reached out to grab your hand in his.

—

The room your dad was in was a different one this time, but you found it easily enough. When you walked in, your dad was talking to the nurse quietly. She smiled and waved at you as she turned to leave, giving you the space to nearly climb into your dad’s bed to hug him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you mumbled softly as you tucked your face into his neck.

His arms went around you and you noticed one arm didn’t have the same strength as the other. Still, he didn’t let you go for a long time.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” your dad finally said as you pulled away. “If I hadn’t accused Billy, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“We can’t think about what might have happened,” you said as you grabbed his hand to hold it tight in yours.

The injuries from the accident were mostly healed but now your dad had the knife wounds to heal from. The doctors promised that he would make a full recovery and that it wouldn’t hold him back any.

“I’m just glad it’s over. That you’re safe.”

You sat with that for a long moment. As terrified as you had been for so long, even before you knew there was someone out to get you, it had been so hard to feel safe. Your memories and nightmares kept you on the edge, even when you were supposed to be safe.

The only times those memories and nightmares stopped were when you were with Billy.

“When he’s better, I want to meet Billy. I want to apologize in person. He deserves that much.”

You glanced at your dad and then back down to your clasped hands.

“If I hadn’t left, he wouldn’t have been hurt. I should have talked to him, heard him out instead of just running.”

Your dad squeezed your hand until you looked up at him.

“It’s not your fault. I told you to leave. You listened to me.”

“I’m an adult dad, I could have stood up for myself at any point. I believed you because I think part of me didn’t trust Billy but I should have.”

You knew things about Billy and Frank, things that made it a little easier to believe that he would. Although knowing those things, you shouldn’t have assumed anything. You knew Billy better than that. At least you should have.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if he told me he never wanted to see me again.”

You tugged on the fabric of your scrub pants, provided by a nurse at some point. The police had gathered your clothes for evidence since they had been drenched in blood. Mostly Billy’s.

“Kiddo, from what I’ve seen and heard since all of this happened, that man isn’t going to turn away just because of some stabs. He moved heaven and earth to find you when you ran off. The only other reason for him to do that besides being the killer is because he cares.”

You laughed and shook your head, but didn’t say anything. Instead you moved to lean into your dad’s arms once more.

“It’s all going to be okay sweetheart. It’s over.”

He was right, it was all over. It was going to be okay.

Somehow.

—

The room Billy was in was on a different floor. When you knocked on the door, his voice called out that you could enter. He was sitting up on the bed, a tablet in his hands as he looked through it. When he looked up, he seemed surprised to see you.

“Hey,” you said slowly, drawing the word out a lot longer than it needed to. “I don’t have to stay or anything, I just wanted to check on you.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he put the tablet down to the side.

“Why wouldn’t you stay?”

You shifted a bit before you took two steps into the room.

“You wouldn’t be in that bed if it wasn’t for me. Plus the whole, you know, thinking you were a serial killer thing.”

Billy laughed which surprised you. He gestured you over to him and after you glanced over at the chair a few feet away, he made a soft ‘tsk’ sound before he patted the bed beside him.

As you sat down on the very edge of the bed, Billy made that noise again and tugged you to him. You immediately froze and checked to make sure you hadn’t landed on any of the bandages on his chest, but he shook his head when he could tell what you were looking for.

“I’ve had worse,” he said as he put his hand over the bandage on his side.

“Billy, I–”

“Unless the next words out of your mouth are ‘understand that this wasn’t my fault’ then I’m not sure I want to hear them.”

“It was my fault though. If I hadn’t left without even talking to you, hadn’t thought you were the killer, you wouldn’t have had to come find me. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

Fingers under your chin made you move your head until you met Billy’s dark eyes.

“Given the chance, I would always put my body between you and danger. Whether or not you thought I was the danger. And in the end, you know I wasn’t involved.” After a beat of silence, he narrowed his eyes and gave you a small smirk. “You do know that I wasn’t involved, don’t you?”

You laughed and leaned into the hand on your face a little.

“If this was a movie or something, it might not mean that you were uninvolved. But this isn’t a movie, it’s real life. So no, I don’t still think you were involved.”

Billy laughed and released your chin but only so that he could reach down and run his fingers over your wrist a bit.

“I’m just glad that nothing happened to you. It would have…I don’t think I could have handled it if something would have happened to you while you were running from me.”

You didn’t want to think about that either. Billy being there had been a fluke, it should have just been you against him. That made you look at his bandages once more.

“It feels wrong somehow that you and dad got hurt this time but I didn’t. I’m glad that Frank and Karen had gotten out of town and were safe, but I came out of this without a scratch on me and both of you had been attacked.”

“I like to think of it as cosmic karma.” At your confused look, Billy explained. “The last time, you were the one that went through it all. You saw the dead bodies of your mom and brother, you got chased around the basement, you’re the one that had to fight for your life, you’re the one that still wears the scars. In more ways than one. So this time, we were able to take that for you. We can bear those for you.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he wiped the tears away. You sniffled and wiped at your face as you looked away from a long moment, gathering your thoughts.

“Do you think…”

You didn’t know how to continue the thought. When you didn’t, Billy called your name. As you looked up, he leaned forward until he could press his mouth against yours.

“Karen and Frank will be happy about this development at least,” he said as he pressed his forehead against yours. “They’ve been telling me to get over my hesitation and ask you out for a while. I just wanted to give you space until you were ready.”

With a laugh you raised your hand and pulled Billy back in for another kiss.

It had been a tough few years since the original murders. Safety had been hard to come by. Since then you had kept yourself caged and terrified the whole time. It had been hard to make connections with people over the last few years. But now? Even before the encounter in the parking lot with you killing the man who had tormented you.

Now you were thinking it was time for you to live your life once more. You smiled and leaned back between kisses to mutter two words to Billy.

“I’m ready.”

Thank you for reading this year's Halloween fic! I hope you enjoyed!

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #my writing #run run run

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invpulse · 7 months

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I haven't seen a lot of discussion about RSD when it comes to ADHD discussions, so I thought I would do the honors since it's been affecting me for many years and I'd like people to know more about it!

I have had a diagnosis for ADHD but was never told- instead learning I had autism through therapy but still having some behaviors that I could never explain that just Happened.

I learned I had ADHD over the summer, and with that, severe rejection sensitive dysphoria.

before reading, please keep in mind that this is mostly talking from personal experience and some skimmed research! not experiencing RSD doesn't mean you do/don't have ADHD, and it may not appear like how it appeared for me. I don't only have autism + adhd either, so those may also contribute to any differences! ^^

RSD is the immense emotional pain after being criticized, rejected, or even teased (ignore my misspell in the panel). This rejection can be real or perceived, and we react like this because it hurts.

The pain can manifest as aggression, bringing on symptoms of depression (thoughts of s/h, isolation, demotivation, etc) and anxiety/panic attacks.

it can cause physical aliments like the above. For me, it causes my heartrate to skyrocket, heart palpitations, the feeling of being in a crisis, and extreme shaking to occur along with stomach pain.

(In fact, right now I'm going through it because making a post talking about this, despite having & dealing with it, makes me scared of other's opinions on it.)

RSD can also take the form of avoiding situations, people, or conversations where rejection or criticism is very possible.

Like other types of dysphoria, it is out of our control and hard to manage. It can last from days to weeks to months, all depending on both the trigger* and the individual.

I had a RSD episode that was on-and-off for a little over a year or two; getting more tame and bearable as it slowly drifted and stopped haunting my mind with the incident.

Compared to the other times my RSD was set off, this moment was a rather big moment in my life and ended up permanently changing me moving forward - which can be the reason why it lasted so long.

Despite how unbearable it can get, there are some ways to cope with it & lessen the effect it has.

Communicate - If you need time to process something that's told to you, you should say so (as difficult as it is). Tell the person(s) involved about your RSD, how you need time to digest information like this and take some time to relax. Trying to respond to the information while going through the head of the dysphoria will be very rough and might not be what you truly want to say.

Distract - This is really useful for me personally! Do something that grabs your attention or occupies your mind. One of RSD's main symptoms is rumination, thinking of something over and over again. I usually listen to music, draw, or play a game that won't frustrate me - like minecraft! (i'd say rain world but some of you would call me a maniac /lhj)

Perspective - This may require some communication, but it can really help and connect with others. See what the involved people thought / perceived, explain, talk. This doesn't always have the chance to end in rainbows and rekindling but at least you understand. Sometimes simply hearing the person explain their own side is enough to ease my RSD, being able to have someone explain themselves to me so i can understand them better.

I also wanna point out the "don't take it personally" thing that people try to use to deal with it isn't something i agree with since we're going to take it personally at first regardless. Later on, not really, but you're trying to cope with the symptoms... telling someone (or yourself) that they're too sensitive & over-reacting is the worse thing you could do.

With time, you can even begin to build up your 'armor' and be able to sustain yourself in situations you might get hurt in. Of course, some things may be able to sneak past and hurt you more than you expect, but at the end of the day, you're trying your best to go about it the best you can while taking so many blows. you're doing great.

OK i dont have a lot more to add so if anyone else would like to talk about their experiences, please feel free! Character showcased here was my beloved fursona Shiki! i'm just a little neurodivergent + black artist from new york :]

hope you enjoyed it! sorry for the long post </3

#long post #rsd #adhd rsd #rejection sensitive dysphoria #neurodiversity #digital art #digital illustration #sfw furry #furry art #digital drawing #furry character #furry oc #furry artist #procreate #furry

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jokeroutsubs · 8 months

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An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Nace Jordan in Jana magazine, published 10.10.2023. Featuring a very special shoutout! 😁

On the couch with Joker Out: about the big changes in their lives

Still good, sober boys

We’ll play this and then we’re off – to switch off

The time we have with them is tightly limited, but that’s appropriate for stars of their kind. They are the most popular musical group right now, and they’ve thoroughly conquered many hearts far beyond both Slovenian and Balkan borders. At sold-out concerts, Finns are swooning because of them, Poles, Serbians, Croatians and Spaniards are fainting, not to mention the girls back home. No one prepared them for this kind of craze, but they’re holding up pretty well – they’re still humble guys with good manners, which can (also) be seen in their polite greeting and relaxed chatting in front of their rehearsal space, a comfortable hideaway somewhere between Ljubljana’s warehouses with an unappealing blue door.

Floating into their sanctuary, you almost hit your head on a collection of hanging bras with various affectionate messages written on them. A few more steps, and we plop down on the couch with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Nace Jordan. Jan Peteh and Kris Guštin (damn, he’s tall!) are busy with another camera, and Jure Maček is nowhere to be seen.

How’s your health doing with your (as it seems if you look at the crazy number of concerts all around Europe) pretty exhausting life? How do you take care of your physical fitness?

Bojan: By working out.

Nace: Well, you and I work out, the others only do it a little.

Bojan: Well yeah, she asked us.

Nace: So: we work out a lot, we play badminton, I run, we go to the gym and hike, Bojan also does mixed martial arts.

You’ve found yourselves at a turbulent stage in your career, and like you’ve said before, you cannot be fully prepared for that. What about mental preparation? Do you have to pay extra attention to that or do anything you've never done before?

Bojan: Yes, we have to rest. We haven't had any rest ever since everything became much more intense. My mind and body are now really begging to switch off.

Nace: I agree. Just the other day, we were talking about how we haven’t truly rested since the pre-Eurovision performances. Two- and three-day trips don’t count.

So you’ll only be able to turn off for a bit, after your big concert in Stožice?

Bojan: That’s right. Well, we maybe planned our break a little poorly, because we’re going on a holiday together. (both start laughing loudly)

Nace: Everyone has the same stunned reaction that you did.

You really have to love each other and have a good time together, that’s all I thought. Can you reveal where you’re going?

Bojan: Far away, somewhere warm. As to whether us going together is smart, we’ll tell you when we come back. If we end up needing another holiday after this holiday, then we didn’t make a very wise decision.

Since you really hang out with each other so much, do you perhaps understand any better why some bands get into fatal quarrels or even break up?

Bojan: We definitely understand it a lot more. In a short time, I’ve realised that this rock and roll lifestyle presented to us by rock legends (myths, stories, Hollywood) is truly something that is untenable in the long term. If we look at all the most famous bands, they actually existed for a very short time.

Nace: And, as an interesting fact, most of them broke up while on tour.

Bojan: You can’t do rock and roll and be devoted to your music, concerts, travels, if you’re constantly under the influence of any substances (drugs, alcohol). You really can’t do that, because neither the human body nor the mind are made to withstand this kind of strain, sleeplessness, pleasure, dopamine. All those legends either died young or the bands broke up. Sure, they did a lot, left a permanent mark, but at what cost? We’ve realised that if we want to enjoy what we’re doing, we have to be sober, and you truly enjoy yourself a lot more if you’re sober and feel physically and mentally ready and cultivate friendships. I think that this way, we’ll remember a lot more after a few tours than many rock legends do in their longer careers. How much can you even remember if your brain isn’t even with you on the same stage?

I see that you’re drinking plenty of water, and we remember you, Bojan, from Eurovision, when you were walking around with a bottle of water and blowing into a straw. What was that for?

Bojan: It’s a technique to warm up your vocal chords, based on the principle of blowing into a slightly wider silicone straw in a water bottle. You blow into it, in the correct way and because of the water in the bottle, a negative pressure is created that puts your vocal chords into the most natural position and it works like a massage for them.

Did you discover this for yourself or was it recommended to you?

Bojan: I had never paid special attention to my voice before that, I’m not a trained vocalist, but luckily I naturally developed the correct technique. Otherwise I would’ve lost my voice long ago. So, on the stage, this mechanism luckily developed in a very positive direction for me, which was also confirmed by singing coaches and the doctor I went to for my vocal chords check-up. A phoniatrics specialist, a wonderful guy, helped me during Eurovision. Before the Eurovision performance, my voice gave in a little due to nerves, so I was constantly in contact with a doctor – and we didn’t even really know each other – who gave me advice over the phone. Then, at the first sound check, everything opened up and sounded like it should. It’s really interesting what happens with your voice, it gets incredibly affected by your mental state. Your vocal chords can be perfectly fine, but if your mind is not in the right place, your voice won’t work either.

I also went to get advice from singing coach Nataša Nahtigal, who really helped me a lot. I especially needed that preparation from a psychological point of view.

Did the other band members also need coaches for anything?

Nace: Me and Kris also visited Nataša, because at the beginning we thought that we’d be singing the backing vocals live on the Eurovision stage. So we also practised with her a few times. We also had rehearsals with a choreographer for the optimum stage performance.

We’re having this conversation five days before your biggest concert yet, in Stožice. Does that require any special preparation?

Bojan: It’s a special concert, because it’s the first time we’re encountering the organisation of something this big; it is, after all, the only arena in the country. It’s a lot for us, Magnifico also told us that he was kind of in the dark the first time, but now they’re acclimatised to it. It’s a different type of preparation: we have to prepare the show, the lights, the stage appearance …

Have you even internalised what you’ve managed to do, all the places and the number of people you’ve played to in the past few months (from Ireland to Great Britain, Finland, Norway, Belgrade, Zagreb, Vienna, and now in December, you've got Amsterdam, Madrid, Barcelona …)?

Bojan: I think that will be a task for the upcoming holiday. When things just keep happening, you’re in this cycle and don’t even really differentiate between one peak and another, so we need to come down a bit to start retroactively comprehending what really happened. Because it’s really wonderful. We were in cities and countries we’d never been to, and then we were there – to play our own sold-out concerts. We absolutely never thought anything like that would ever happen to us.

Nace: Often it’s only when I come home from this kind of tour that I think to myself: wow, look at where we were! We’re playing on a stage where world legends had played before us! Now, in the club in Helsinki, Foo Fighters and AC/DC had played there, among others. Any musician would wish to play there, let alone sell out that concert.

When you walk around these European cities where you have sold out your concerts, do people already recognise you on the street?

Bojan: It’s pretty bizarre, but now they’ve really started to. I think that on this Nordic tour there truly wasn’t any place we went to without at least someone recognising us – either on a train, on the street, in a restaurant, at the airport. Foreign fan culture is a little different, as they get prepared to meet us, in a way – for example, they know when we’ll be at the airport, and they wait for us with gifts, they don’t just come to take photos with us. They bring along our merch shirts, various things for us to sign, they give us gifts. Fans make a lot of things on their own – bracelets, dolls, there are a lot of drawings, crafts; I have two knitted Joker Out scarves at home.

Nace: In Finland we got a lot of knitted socks, hats …

Hand-knitted socks?

Bojan: Yes, with a Slovenian and Finnish flag, for example.

The Scandinavian youth are clearly well-versed in that.

Bojan: Let’s go, Slovenian youth, start knitting Joker Out stuff too! (laughter)

And what is it like to walk down the streets of Slovenia? Can you go to the store in peace?

Bojan: It’s nice to walk down the streets of Slovenia, but we truly always get recognised, that’s a fact, it’s not as inconvenient in stores as it can be when you’re out for drinks, when you constantly feel like someone is eavesdropping next to you.

How difficult is the rockstar life?

Bojan: It’s really nice – every time we’re on the stage, the audience rewards us with a really nice energy, you can’t compare that to anything else, but like any profession, ours has negative sides as well, with the biggest difference being that you’re constantly in the public eye. Very few things are truly personal – you also have a hard time judging for yourself what’s private and what’s not. It’s more of a mental game with yourself – that’s the hardest part of it all. As well as not sleeping, because you travel a lot.

Are there any big disappointments or unexpected things – perhaps that some fans get “carried away” or that not everyone is as well-intentioned as you thought?

Bojan: Absolutely! You suddenly find yourself not only belonging to a home crowd, but also becoming an internet hashtag. The internet has no limits, people have no reservations there, they hide behind a nickname. Each of us has definitely had a few of these moments that shocked us, that’s why we’ve started to pull back from social media.

That’s probably pretty tricky: for the sake of advertising and contact with fans, you have to be present on social media, but meanwhile you’re aware that you need to take a step back for the sake of your health. How do you stay on the safe side? What’s your strategy?

Nace: Primarily, we’ve all stopped reading Twitter, the comments … We have to maintain a certain distance.

Bojan: To be completely honest, I’d like to find someone who could handle my personal profile on social media. It also bothers me that you really waste a lot of time on social media and subconsciously create a lot of unrealistic expectations, because you’re constantly swiping through people’s perfect lives, faces and situations, it’s all quite absurd.

Do you want to influence teenagers in this area, to pass any important messages on to them?

Bojan: Yes, find some wonderful analogue way to follow us and delete your social media.

So, knit a Joker Out scarf or socks instead and listen to their music – that’s pretty analogue. Then, you can also do a charity auction of your fans’ knitwear.

Bojan: Exactly!

One small revolutionary move would also be if concerts or gigs at various parties started earlier. Us slightly more mature citizens also like to go to concerts, but we also like to go to bed a little earlier.

Bojan: I can say that after our Stožice concert, people will be able to be asleep by midnight. But actually, when we were abroad, we got used to gigs starting very soon – sometime between seven and nine in the evening – and the party is definitely not any worse because of that.

You say that you’re full of creative energy. Does your creative process continue under the covers too, do you have notebooks on your nightstand?

Bojan: All the ideas come to me just before I go to sleep. The most recent song Sunny Side of London also happened on the last day before we went to the studio – I couldn’t sleep and I came up with those base lyrics while in bed.

Even though your latest song is in English, due to most of your songs being in Slovenian, you’ve unintentionally become ambassadors of the Slovenian language as well.

Bojan: It was never our goal to become ambassadors of the Slovenian language, but we consciously decided to sing in Slovenian at Eurovision. It means a lot to us, and we hope that our fans will accept that we want to widen our listener base and that there will be some more songs in English because of that. I think that people all around Europe or even further singing twenty of our songs in Slovenian is already a lot, and shows that we’ve done our job. In the future, we’ll create in foreign languages a lot, but we’ll also stay loyal to Slovenian.

A lot of your TV appearances can be found translated to English on the internet. Is that your doing?

Bojan: No, the credit for that goes to a group of fans from all around the world called “Joker Out Subs”, who follow our videos and concerts and translate into quite a few global languages (recently even into Hebrew). They’ve already translated a huge amount of our content, and they do it voluntarily. They’ve also connected with each other in that way, and they’ve told us that 20 of our fans, who met online because of us, booked a house together for our concert in Amsterdam (in December). They’re all coming to the concert and they will stay there together.

Nace: A lot of people have connected like that because of us, which is very nice.

What’s it like at home? Is everything the same at home despite your stardom?

Bojan: Yes, it’s all the same – go mow the lawn!

Nace: I, for example, still drive my grandmother around to run her errands.

And your grandmother listens to your songs?

Nace: She’s definitely listened to some, but I doubt that she’s playing our entire discography. (laughter)

Bojan: Oooh, mine plays it every day, she goes through everything 150 times!

Have you made any changes to your menus?

Bojan: I’ve started eating vegetables – bowls (various healthy ingredients, served in one bowl), Nace got me into that.

Nace: Isn’t it nice to savour something together that’s healthy and that we all like? (Kris pipes up from the background, saying that Nace has gotten them all into Asian food.)

Translation of the captions on the photos:

1) The special friendship with Finnish Eurovision representative Käärijä continues. Together on Finnish stages in September.

2) Bojan loves Swedish girls, says the writing on his shirt.

Translation cr: Joker Out Subs

EDIT: to celebrate the JokerOutSubs shout-out, we prepared a giveaway for Tumblr! You can read more aboout it here!

#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #nace jordan

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yanderepuck · 1 month

Text

Me?? Writing Mozart???? Anyone writing Mozart is a surprise surprise tbh. I bully him too much and therefore it's so hard for me to write him. Is this good? Not exactly. But the Mozart simps can't say I never did anything for them

BUT YOU'RE ALSO GETTING TWO SMUT FICS IN ONE DAY??? let's just say I'm feeling some type of way. You bitches getting fed today.

Mozart has been living outside the mansion for a few months now. He has an apartment in the city so that he wouldn't have to take a carriage back and forth.

For a while you were going back and forth between the mansion and his apartment. There are plenty of days where he is working nonstop and you try to take care of him and try to get him to take a break but it's no use.

"Süße," you call out for him from the couch but he doesn't move. "Süße," you look over at him. He's at his desk, writing music or replying to letters you assume. You pout. "Süße."

You know he can hear you. Why isn't he answering. "Wolfgang!" it took you so long to get used to calling him that. It still feels weird. You sit up on the couch, about to get to if he didn't hear you this time.

"Hm? What is it?" He still doesn't look up, but at least he answers you.

"Didn't you hear me?"

"I did. You just didn't say it right," he chuckles at you while you huff.

You get up and go over to him, putting your arms over his shoulders. "That's what you call me. How am I saying it wrong?"

"It's süßer for me," he drops his own and holds one of your hands.

"Oh wow, so different," you pout, but you still kiss the top of his head. You try to pull him from his chair. "Come spend time with me," you whine. "You have been glued to your desk for days."

You keep trying to pull him up but he's not budging. He laughs softly seeing how determined you are. "Okay okay. Just let me finish writing this letter," he kisses the hand he's holding and you let him go.

"Okay, but that's it for today!"

You let him finish writing it while you go into the kitchen to figure out what to make for dinner. It was getting to be around the time you should start cooking.

You get a few things out and set them on the counter. "I wonder if he'll want to eat tonight," you talk to yourself and turn around and see Mozart walking in.

You smile and go up to him to hug him tightly.

"You've been so mean to me," you look up at him pouting.

"What? I haven't done anything."

"Exactly," you glare at him. "I need attention."

He then hugs you back, holding you close. "Attention? Like this?" He kisses you, making you him softly.

"Mmm, more please," he kisses you again and you kiss back. "You taste like coffee," you giggle.

"I have been drinking quite a bit."

"No more for the rest of the night. You need proper sleep," you kiss him again before letting him go to go back to the counter. "Do you want to eat with me tonight?"

"Depends. What are you making?" He walks over to see what you pulled out

"Nothing too spicy, I promise," you chuckle, remembering last time he tried something new from you. You added way too many spices for him to handle.

He seems to think for a moment. "I'll try it."

"Perfect! I'll start cooking soon then."

You smile and take his hand, taking him back to the living room. All you want is to curl up next to him for a while, have him play with your hair while you relax. Which does happen.

You sit in his lap, leaning against him while he is brushing his fingers through your hair, getting out some loose knots. You lift your head up to kiss him.

It was only meant to be a little kiss, but once he kissed you back you didn't want to stop. He didn't try to pull away either. You both kept going.

Shifting on his lap, you face him, your legs on either side. His hands rest on your hips. You moan softly, arms going over his shoulders.

You can't help but start to rock your hips, getting a moan out of him. Your grip onto his shirt, getting more worked up.

He stills your hips, holding you down.

"What do you think you're doing," it's a lighthearted tease. He wants to hear you say it.

"C-can we go to the bedroom. Please," you start to whine.

His hands slide down your body and before you know it he's standing and holding you. You always forget about that vampiric strength, even still, you wrap your legs around his waist and hold on around his neck.

As he carries you, you start kissing his neck, lightly nibbling at his skin.

He drops you on the bed, giving you the view of him taking his shirt off. You sit there and watch rather than getting your own clothes off.

Mozart tosses his shirt to the side and looks down at you. "I can't do much if you keep your clothes on."

You immediately blush and fumble with your clothes, wanting them off as quickly as you can. You're clothes are barely to the floor and Mozart gets on top of you, kissing you roughly.

Keeping your lips together, you move further back onto the bed so you aren't along the edge, Mozart following you, not breaking the kiss until you lay back.

Lifting up one of your legs he kisses your ankle as he brings it over his shoulder.

"You're so beautiful," he smiles, getting you to blush before he slides into you.

You moan, quickly trying to bite your lip to stay quiet.

With one hand on your leg and another on your hip he starts to thrust into you.

He keeps a steady rhythm, but then again why wouldn't he. Getting more comfortable, he gets rougher. Nearly pulling out all the way before thrusting back in, making sure he's going as deep as he can.

He pulls your leg up further, redirecting your hips, hitting you in a new spot. Your moans get louder and he quickly reaches up to cover your mouth.

"Be quiet," he kisses. "The window is open."

You completely forgot about that. The window right above the headboard of the bed was open, letting in a light breeze. You were wondering why you occasionally got a chill.

You whine under his hand, not able to stop moaning. "Th-then close it."

You grit your teeth as his hips only snap harder. You swear the sound of his hips rutting against you is louder than your moans.

He takes his hand off your mouth and kisses you instead, causing both of you to lose your breath quickly. Panting in each other's mouths.

You wrap your arms around him, leaving red streaks along his back. Your leg that was over this shoulder is now around his waist, keeping him close.

His fingers interlock with yours, holding them down into the mattress.

"You feel close, süße," his lips trail down to your neck. "Why don't I help with that."

"Wolfg-ahh!"

His fangs piece your skin, giving him the pleasure of your blood and giving you the pleasure of reaching your climax. He didn't seem to care about the window being open at that moment.

Your moans went on for as long as his fangs were in you. His hands squeeze yours, his movement suddenly gets faster, until he pushes himself as deep as he can go, filling you with cum.

You squeeze his hands back, buck your hips up, moaning with him.

Mozart licks the bite clean and sits up, licking a few drops of blood off his lips while looking at you.

Your chest heaves, and you whine when he pulls out of you.

You don't feel like making dinner now, but you don't want to be done with him yet.

When Mozart lays down next to you, you sit up, getting on his lap.

He looks up at you surprised. "What are you-"

"I don't want to be done just yet," you smirk, sitting yourself down on his cock

Tag list~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @tako-cafe @floydsteeth

#this may be completely ooc for all i know #i based this all around two lines #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp mozart #smut smut smut

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pillarsoflove · 1 year

Note

can i request sleep over hcs with any characters? can be platonic or romantic!

hi! yes! sleepovers are so fun 🫶 sorry these are short, I couldn't think of much :(

gn!reader, they/them if any

characters: march 7th, dan heng, sampo, stelle (f!mc), caelus (m!mc)

up for interpretation of platonic or romantic!! fluff 🫶

March!

first off, definitely the type to forget to give you a blanket

but don't worry!! she has a lot of those soft decorative ones, so you aren't short on options, she just forgot

"this is a sleepover! you think you're supposed to sleep??" fr

if you are just friends, she definitely asks about who you're romantically interested in

gossiping about your trailblaze missions!! giggling about some people you met, thoughts on what happened, I'm ngl y'all definitely smack talk people you don't like too

hello!!! dress up?? yes

she doesn't typically like people close to her face, but if you two are close enough to have a sleepover she trusts you enough to allow you near her face! so you can mess with her hair or do her makeup

you both eventually knock out with the lights still on

Dan Heng!

if you have a sleepover you either don't live on the express or it was an accident

in the accident case you probably wanted to spend more time together and ended up falling asleep in his "room" (the archives), or you had a nightmare and being in the same room as him calmed you down

offers you his bed and he'll sleep on a pallet on the floor – it isn't much different from his makeshift bed already – just less padding

if you end up falling asleep after trying to spend more time with him he'll carry you to his bed, not wanting to risk waking you up by carrying you to your room if you live on the express

idc how big you are, he's stronger than he looks, he has hidden muscles similar to swimmers thanks to his weapon!

sampo!

good luck man, I don't think he has a house

just hops from one hotel/motel to the other

so you're either sleeping in your room, or in a hotel room

if you're part of the astral express, the hotel room is probably the better option considering the hate dan heng and March has for him

and the others probably will as well ngl

anyway! he will offer to sleep in the same bed if the room only has one bed as a joke

(platonic only, or romantic but haven't slept in the same bed yet ->) insult is probably what he's expecting, if you want to catch him of guard, accept, it's funny bc wait?? what?? deadass??

if y'all are friends he's trying to explain it was a joke without sounding like a loser 🤧

probably snores

if you wake him up bc he's snoring too loud he's gonna go on about how he needs his beauty rest so excuse you

stelle!

honestly, I think she would enjoy chill nights

like she's everywhere all the time during the day, so calm nights are a nice break, plus she's tired from the day

you two do some small activities, like maybe playing a game, or reading, or just talking, maybe watching a movie

the room lights are dim too! off during a movie :)

I feel like she would have a seal plushie..

won't go to sleep until you say when because she doesn't want to make you feel pressured to sleep at the same time as her

though if you take too long she'll probably nod off in a beanbag

offers you her bed too! let's you sleep with her seal plushie if you want (if you have plushies then let her sleep with one at the next sleepover pleasee)!!

skin care together!! you can use each other's headbands for the night, just for fun :)

caelus!

he also doesn't say when he wants to sleep because he doesn't want you to feel pressured

plus I feel like it's hard for him to get to sleep anyway, so it's not hard for him to stay up

will take an interest in your items if you brought any knick knacks over

like a ring holder, music box, fidget toy, figurine, etc etc

he wants to see what it does and know the story behind it if you have one

honestly, just wants to spend time with you, doesn't care what you do, so it's up to you!

be warned, if you do each other's nails, he's not great at it and will end up getting quite a bit on your skin and the polish on your nails might (will) be a big lumpy

but he does his best! might even try to make a design on it if you ask, though it comes out unrecognizable (he's still happy with it if you are, also, gets happy if he sees you still wearing it a while after!)

once it's time for sleep he'll turn out the lights and plug in his nightlight (apologizes profusely if it bothers you, he can't sleep without it though)

sleeps on a pallet next to the bed while you sleep on the bed

also has a plushie! it's a grey cat

it typically sits on his desk, he only sleeps with it if he's having a particularly hard night, so you can sleep with it if you want

just make sure to put it back on the desk tomorrow though

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drconstellation · 3 months

Text

Detective Aziraphale

Aziraphale's Edinburgh Journey: Part 1

This is the beginning of a series of posts focusing on Aziraphale's trip to Edinburgh in S2. Several times people have asked why he even had to make the trip - why didn't he just email the pub to ask his questions? Ah, thinking like true child of the 21st century, you are! In a narrative sense, its not that simple, especially in the GO narrative where there are always parallels to be found to enhance the story. And I think there a couple of other reasons why its been hard to understand the reason for this drawn-out and apparently dead-end investigation, which haven't really been explored or talked about much yet. We will start to look at one of them in this meta.

I mentioned a while ago when I was putting together the S2 Chiastic structure that I was hoping to find some hints to the purpose of the trip to Edinburgh. What it did reveal was that the trip was a larger parallel to Crowley's trip to Heaven with Muriel in S206. This is pair S; where the publican in the Resurrectionist asks Aziraphale if he one those investigative reporters in S203, matched with Crowley bounding up to Muriel at the end of S2E5 and declaring "Officer, I need to report a crime."

Both Crowley and Aziraphale have fantasy alternative personas. Most of us are familiar with Crowley's James Bond role-playing from time to time and other hints of tough masc characters he sees in films.

When he dons the "tactical turtleneck" we know there is some kind of super-spy power cosplay going on (and it also extends to other characters, such as Gabriel and Saraqael, if you pay close attention.) Hence why it's part of his costume when he infiltrates Heaven.

But we don't often see this wishful side of Aziraphale's, other than his dream of being a magician. According to Neil, he also sees himself as a journalist, a detective and a "man of the world." *

The publican asks Aziraphale if he is one of those "investigative reporters" when he arrives at the Resurrectionist, and sometimes that is the dual role of a journalist, to be both a detective and a reporter.

Crowley has gone upstairs to gain access Gabriel's record, the one place he can do that.

Aziraphale also gets hold of Gabriel's record...er, recorded song.

Hang on, no. That's not right way to look at it, actually.

While you might think the focus is still on finding out about Gabriel in Edinburgh, Aziraphale's mirror in S2 is Beelzebub, so there is a slight twist in the way we need to consider various aspects here.

Perhaps this should be "Aziraphale gets a hold of Beelzebub's music" instead, because he's really going to Edinburgh to find out more about Beelzebub, he just doesn't realize it.

Yep, you heard me right. The trip to Edinburgh is not a fact-finding mission about Gabriel, its actually a fact-finding mission about Beelzebub. And he doesn't get the answers he needs.

Neither does Crowley, by the way.

GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. But you feel free to knock yourself out with all the asking. Anyway, Armageddon the Sequel, that's a nah.

Crowley wonders out aloud why Gabriel changed his mind about starting another Armageddon, but the trial doesn't really answer that either. Nothing is really answered until Gabriel regains his memories, in the end.

To round out this post about the parallel investigations, each of them take an opposite with them, that they couldn't have got there without: Crowley takes an angel (Muriel) and Aziraphale takes a demon. Well, something demonic, anyway. **

Thank you to @komorezuki for pointing out that the trip to Edinburgh was really about Beelzebub. While you could still do this post making it a full Gabriel parallel, in the long run it makes more sense to look at the other way, as I hope to show you in the forthcoming posts.

*I thought I had a link to the post that this came from, then lost it. I've spent several hours trying to find it again with no luck, so if you know the post I'm referring to please let me know so I can link it!

**I've read that Aziraphale could have taken the train in less time it would have taken to drive, and that the train station is only a short walk from the pub etc. But this wouldn't have driven the narrative!

This series continues in the following posts:

Part 2: Aziraphale-Beelzebub Parallels Part 3: Stocktaking in the Basement Part 4: Judgement Day Part 5: I Know Where I'm Going

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #gabriel #beelzebub #edinburgh #chiastic structure #tactical turtleneck

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luvring · 2 years

Note

I saw "suggestion for cove" i ran here asap. So hear me out hear me out.... In game you only hear about mc and Cove going to school between the steps so i would love to see if you have any headcanon about the two of them hanging school life ( from step 1 age to step 3, you choose what age )

— cove school life hcs

thank you. Thank You. i miss him. like i could just replay the game he's Right There but I Miss Him. i'm saur sorry if any of this doesn't match canon I haven't played in so long. also sorry if my experience doesn't match urs. um. i tried to pick universal experiences

the both of you stay up the night schedules come out to make sure you have classes together. there's quiet celebrations when you match up and groans where you don't

you share anything and everything that happened during your time apart on your way home ! cove has never had your math teacher in his life but from the sheer amount of stories you've shared he hopes he never sets foot in that class

BOOK FAIRS! if you really wanted something he'd offer to help pay for it. he might have gotten one of the cool pens or eraser or something

you're always field trip buddies. you sit on the bus together, you walk around together, it is simply law!

oh my god assemblies where the teachers got seats and the kids didn't. he turns to you and whispers about how unfair it is every year. you agree obviously

THE SCHOOL CHRISTMAS PLAYS ☹️ thinking about little cove singing. help. the songs get stuck in your head after music class so they get stuck in His and

little school valentine's where the both of you get each other the cards/candies they sell. platonic or not—personally i love doing it w friends

god. you know he's going to bee line towards you during group projects. why wouldn't he! he knows how you work, you know how he works, it's perfect like It's Perfect

doodle on his notebook doodle on his notebook do

there's a page where the both of you talk in the back of your notes that's a complete mess but it's lovely

asks you for help on what to say during introductions/ice breaker activities. what he says changes over time of course but he's been using the same base for years atp

school dances might be a bit hectic for him but if you wanted to go he'd definitely try his best . just give him some time and don't pull him into the middle of it all please

depends on if cove was athletic or studious but um. cove protecting you during dodgeball! let's think about this (said by girl who despised every version of dodgeball.)

you know he loved the swimming unit for p.e. like he'd actually be excited to come to school

the Dance unit. every time he'd switch over to being your partner you could see him relax

would Absolutely do the thing where you stand in line in a way so you get put on the same teams. every time the teacher would pull a quick one and you'd be on different teams he'd either sneak onto yours or be very upset.

if the class had an assigned seating chart he'd be very tense walking in before seeing the board. he denies it but you're either going to see him pout or grin at the results so

i don't know how they got to school but If it was a vehicle,, car or bus,, just imagining you dozing off and cove scooting over so you can rest your head on his shoulder ☹️

(the first time he saw you rest against the window he started panicking because of how bumpy the road was and now it's stuck in his mind forever)

walking is still quite lovely though. holding hands on the way to school...please.

you and cove will always wait for each other any day you finish earlier than the other

if you ever forgot your lunch cove is immediately splitting his in half

he'd help you study for your classes even if he wasn't taking them. hand him a quizlet/flashcards/your study guide and you're all set!!

y'know how they'd force you to go outside for recess even if it was cold as shit. i feel like cove tried to hide in the washroom at least Once. he could probably get away with it a few times before getting caught

i think it's up to you what it is but like, having something you do after exams to celebrate and relax. i'm not saying cove uses this as motivation but you know.

and if you ever did particularly bad on one cove would be upset with you because ?? he knows how hard you tried and just wants to cheer you up. always reminds you that you did your best and there's always next time.

gives you a Look when you tell him you stayed up or weren't taking care of yourself. will do everything in his power to help you

depending on what clubs you joined, he'd try to tag along. especially if it was a more chill one and not like, a dance club (😔)

^ though if you were in any kind of performance cove would make sure he could come. smiles to himself when you get on stage like Ok That's Awesome For Me

in my mind if you're dating,, you are The prom couple. even if you aren't voted in, it doesn't take a lot to notice the sea green haired boy and his s/o who he has a soft spot for. come on. there's at least 2 friend groups discussing how you'd win (i have no idea how prom works btw)

you know at the end of elementary + jr. high + high school there'd be those parties or graduation. people, fairly, get upset about leaving their friends. but cove without fail looks at you and is always always grateful for the fact he knows he won't lose you

i don't know the last time i used this taglist If Ever. pls tell me if ur not supposed to be on it omg. | @lordbugs @xfangirl-trashx @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @bakugosgrenade @vhenis

#cove holden #cove holden x reader #our life #ol:ba #our life beginnings & always

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fluidthoughts · 1 year

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König general/random headcanons

This is my first time literally ever doing this, so if it sucks I'm really sorry. This also took me freaking forever to put together cause my brains a mess, and even now I'm feeling like it isn't finished, even though it'd already SO LONG IM SORRY LOL. But it'll do for now. I'm also thinking about making a separate post for relationship and NSFW headcanons soon. I just uh. Haven't begun to really jot those thoughts down yet, eheh.

- despite his incredibly large size, if he doesn't want to be seen or noticed, he won't be. A good part of it due to his anxiety that brings a strong desire to avoid being the center of attention. Soft silent footsteps, slinking himself right into the most unnoticed parts of a place, encompassed in the shadows until by some chance, you catch a glimmer of those intense, unwavering, piercing eyes.

- those damn eyes, always scanning, observing, calculating. Staring right through your very soul. It'd be absolutely frightening if it weren't for his inability to not fidget slightly as he stared.

- not a man of many words either. Mostly made up of silent nods and gestures. Chit chat doesn't come easily to someone like him, so when he does speak, he speaks honest and direct. At times taken by others as too blunt or abrasive, contrary to his intentions.

- and of course once he's set loose on the battlefield, that quiet unnerving focus he exudes changes into something entirely different. Something *terrifying*. The embodiment of primal power, pure adrenaline, and even what may be a grotesque sense of humor and pleasure as he tears his way through the enemy

- part of it could be due to this sense of despair in his fellow man, maybe even humankind he feels. He knows too well of the evils that exist in this world, (and maybe the next he fears, for he is just as washed in blood)

- he admires his team a lot though, for their lack of judgement with him, and how they all work together so well, makes him appreciate their dynamics such as he appreciates pack animals in the wild.

- he deeply adores and respects nature and animals. And being the giant muscled athlete he is, lots of outdoor activities are very much to his liking. Hiking, rafting, climbing, etc. When in nature, he feels envy for the innocence and beauty he sees around him. As well as feeling a sense of relatability to the primal instincts and violence and death.

- because of the bullying he endured throughout his life, and because of his size, he would get into fights. A lot. To this day, it still happens actually. Usually ending up in bar fights. As much as he tries to keep himself from it, the habit is there, and he's never one to let rowdy douches in the bars get away with their nasty jabs and comments. He's also been known to get into some of these fights defending someone else. Can't stand to see bullying happen in front of him. But there's also this part of him that thinks he still goes out and gets into these fights because maybe deep down he enjoys it.

- can play the mouth harp. No I will not elaborate. Other than his deep love for music and desire to play instruments, but he always had a hard time being able to focus his hands. Often thought to himself his hands were only good for killing. Turns out he had a knack for the mouth harp though.

- I wouldn't go as far to say he's a religious or overly spiritual man, but he's very enthralled by things like old folklore, tales and stories of things in the wilderness that are best left unknown to man. Hes definitely experienced some things himself that he cant quite explain. One could say it's the cause of his respect and carefulness for the wild parts of the world around him. One could also say its just superstition. He's also very into learning about and hearing stories about such legends of other places, the countries his teammates are from, locals when he's traveling in an unfamiliar place, etc.

- if he is comfortable enough, like he is with his team, he's witty and snarky as fuck. He loves to banter and tell dry jokes and just being a little menace overall. Especially if he's enjoying some drinks and feeling loosened up.

- he has a soft side, and deep down is even a hopeless romantic, but even in his own mind, he's more monster than man. His gentleness is buried deep, except for his interactions with animals. He has always wanted a pet of his own, but knows with his way of life, it wouldn't be for the best. And something like a relationship, he doesn't even get any hopes up for.

- is also a bit of a pyromaniac.

- also a very prideful man. Which makes him competitive, and all the more reluctant to really open himself up. He hates feeling like anyone might be pitying him, and is forever in a mindset of proving himself, pushing himself, and becoming more and more stoic. The type to be most adamant about refusing help from someone.

- he's got an insanely quick wit, but also just incredibly smart and able to learn and pick up on things almost immediately. He's especially handy with things that are of the "take apart and put back together" variety. Hence why he was always fond of firearms.

- he knows women notice him, he notices them too. He knows he's attractive as well. But ever since a cruel joke played on him in his teen years, he finds it all the more difficult to trust women in any sort of romantic or intimate way. "Brawls with other men at least bring total honesty with them" he thinks. And all the better to keep him less distracted from work anyways, right?

- Roze basically forced him (and the whole squad) to learn how to braid to help her and Calisto before missions. König's actually pretty good at it too for it being a hand based task.

#könig #hes kind of sad #and messed up inside #könig imagine #könig headcanons #cod headcanons #mw2 headcanons #deff want to start some könig x reader type stuff soon #könig call of duty #if its giving you i can fix him vibes im on the right track lol #angst angst angst angst

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aikoiya · 2 months

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Hello there, I love your post and I like your idea about Danny being affected by hamon but now not the time for dp x jjba and i have a long post idea that I would be understanding that it takes you days to research and post your idea.

Danny Phantom (phantom planet not happen in this au idea) x hunter: the parenting and by extension the world of darkness.

A few months before the event of Adorable Family Trip, the D family went to Amity Park for a month to visit one of Big-D ex, Jack Fenton, and while at Amity Park Kitten decided to look into Amity Park folklore. I want to know what 3 folklore that Amity Park has and what Kitten and Big-D thought about it, also bonus point if one of them is not about ghosts.

Also I have fun idea that the D family shenanigans while in Amity Park like Kitten learning about ecto ghost from Maddie ( who has extreme bias), Jack ( who is still learning about ecto ghost), and Big-D ( who usually keeps info until it's relevant), Marckus telling Danny and Dash about his experience with bully and tell them about how Brok Blacklaw eat Marckus book, gross Danny and Dash out, Door and Boy waiting in line at Nasty Burger for the meatiest burger for Boy and telling Jazz about his old 'mining day' unintentionally misled Jazz into thinking he was a miner and not a EOD specialist that he actually is, and Big-D and Jack have a journey and talk about why Big-D broke up with Jack as while Jack is good against ghost, he is not prepared for Big-D reckoning against the various supernatural.

Also for the funny Big-D know Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom when first met and didn't tell his family until on the plane back to Norfolk UK and his reasoning is that "it is obvious".

Holy cow! Honestly, I was confused for a bit. But the further down I got, the more I recognized. Like, Big-D was my first tip off, but it wasn’t until I read Markus, Door, & Boy that it clicked.

Now, I know what we’re talking about. I was afraid this was about Monster Hunter or Hunter x Hunter because I know practically nothing about either of those except dragons & that they are an absolute infestation in Monster Hunter.

You have no idea how lucky you are that my brother got me to watch the animated adaptation on YouTube or I would be completely lost! XD

So, congratulations, I can ramble about this subject!

However, I have only seen the animated adaptation up to Big-D's guide to avoiding arrest & am actually currently watching it as I type because I asked my brother a question about the show & he later said he'd rather watch more of it rather than continue with Lupin III. So, thanks for that. (Jk.)

Brok literally just appeared for the first time. His crew certainly seems to possess quite the motley assortment of very unfortunate faces, don't they?

But, yeah, I haven't seen any of the actual sessions, so my knowledge about how that world works is limited to that.

First off, I love, love, love all the supernatural lore in it. I was literally taking down notes.

Anyway, hmm… Well, I just looked at a list of Michigan cryptids & it talked about Michigan Mermen, though evidently, it's “bad luck to threaten one.” Though, the legend specifically says it's in Lake Superior. At the same time, the 2 lakes are connected by Whitefish Bay, so I wouldn't understand why they wouldn't also appear in Lake Michigan unless it was specifically inhabited by a predator of theirs. There's also apparently the Chicago Mothman, which according to a really cool map someone made from doing a bunch of research (Amity Park Location & Map), is most likely not even a full day's travel from Amity. Then there's the Lake Michigan Sea Serpent, which is, like, right there.

Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it lived in Lake Eerie. Maybe even just a short walk away from Amity itself.

Though, I do also have something a bit more benign that I made up myself. It's not really a creature. It's just a jukebox that plays creepily accurate music. → The Haunted Jukebox

It's really not much, but I figure that it'd be nice to investigate something that wouldn't try to do unspeakable things to them for once, ya know?

And I do have to say that I very much don't see Jack as the type who'd be into Big-D. In fact, I think the only dude that Jack might have a chance of being into is Vlad, who was never interested & will never be interested. And I don't even know if Jack would be aware of his own interest or if it's ever even crossed his mind.

However, I do have an alternate suggestion. What if Jack & Big-D… were brothers or cousins?

Now, I have a lot of thoughts on not only the Fenton Family’s lineage, but several others too, so here's a link so that I don't have to put it all here. → DP AU - Family Legacy

For that matter, I also hc that Warden Walker is Maddie's dad (but neither are aware). Seriously, go read Grandpappy Walker on Fanfiction.com. It’s an interesting read. However, it never finished. I have other hcs involving her family here, too. → The Walker Family

Now, moving on. This could absolutely work because my theories regarding both the Fenton family & Big-D actually align very well.

Mainly in that I hc that the Fentons are descended from a Lugat, thus making everyone descended from him dhampirs after a fashion.

Now, if we go this route, my suggestion is that Jack was the black sheep of the family… but Big-D was the bedazzled, feral sheep that kept biting everyone. Brilliant & the star of the Fenton family with a brain like a supernatural encyclopedia, but obviously has something very wrong in his head.

In my mind, Jack was never good at learning other languages (which was very important for research) or the apotropaic magics of his family because he could never really wrap his head around the mechanics of how it all worked, so he became frustrated with it all, called it a load of hooey & became determined to prove himself a hunter through the medium he did understand: SCIENCE!!!

And engineering. However, because he'd felt like an outcast due to being unable to understand the magical side of things, he'd begun to reject a lot of the old, tried & true hunter methods, relegating them to the domain of superstition even though a part of him knew that it was all true. He was bitter, okay?

Despite this, he's actually surprisingly honest with himself, considering how full of himself he can be. As such, if he's ever shown concrete evidence that he's wrong, he's actually very quick to adapt & accept that fact.

Then, promptly make amends.

Maddie, however, is ridiculously secular & stubborn. As such, she would be ridiculously difficult to convince regarding subjects involving the supernatural that couldn't be explained using science.

Interestingly, despite being so very different, Big-D was actually one of the only ones in their family who actually heard out Jack’s theories.

At the same time, though Big-D thought that the possibility of this “Ghost Zone” was, indeed, possible, he'd never thought that Jack would not only be able to reach it, consistently of all things, but then prove it!

Personally, I love it when experts of the supernatural are entirely blindsided by something that completely shatters their understanding of the world around them. Like, science is making new discoveries all the time. Why can't the supernatural hunter field also be doing the same?

I'm saying that I think it would be fun if the entirety of Big-D's knowledge of this new plane of existence completely consisted of whatever theories Jack had spoken to him about regarding it.

On the one hand, he's so ridiculously PROUD of Jackie-Boy!!

On the other, Big-D is absolutely shitting his short shorts as it slowly dawns on him the implications of all this.

I mean… this… this is the fucking trans-universal thanatonexus!! Literal proof of alternate & parallel universes!!!

The universe between universes & the moment between times!!!

….

Big-D needs to sit down before he passes out…

Which, my guy. I have a full freaking masterlist of hcs regarding how the Infinite Realms work, how it interacts with the Living Realms, how ectoplasm is made. As well as hcs about Clockwork & Nocturn. → DP Ghost Zone Masterlist

Clockwork - The Origin of Clockwork - Clockwork Through the Multiverse - Nocturn (My Style)

Peruse at your leisure.

Seriously, I might have a problem…

I mean, if you really think about it, how would Big-D know much of anything about ecto-ghosts? The only people shown to possess portals are the Fentons & Vlad & the only other portals are natural portals which open randomly & very rarely. Like, maybe he's heard stories about powerful beings that could fly & shoot lasers, but I don’t think he’d know anything truly concrete.

But I definitely think he's aware of Danny's time traveling shenanigans, though only from the perspective of having seen imagery of Phantom & Plasmius scattered through time. But not that it’s Danny & the mayor of Amity (at least initially).

Which, I honestly think that they'd legitimately despise each other. D & Vlad, that is.

Which, perhaps Big-D's actual reason for visiting could partially be because of that? Maybe he saw a picture in a supernatural tabloid about a little town in Illinois that was a tourist trap centering around ghosts? And the picture used was of one of Danny & Vlad's fights?

Maybe it was Kitten who was reading it & Big-D was just sort of sipping his drink at breakfast, was chatting with Kitten, & glanced down only to choke on his drink as he recognized the figures from one of the single greatest mysteries in all of hunter history. He gasps & wheezes rather comically as he tries to catch his breath. Kitten is concerned, but the second D caught his breath, he declared that they were headed to Amity Park to visit family.

The terrifying thing is that I actually think that the Fentons of Amity might be the most well-adjusted members of the current Fentons in the family… This realization haunts me…

Holy fudge, I think Jack would end up being the responsible & rational one between him & D…

Like, I can just see Jack looking D dead in the eye & telling him that drugs, psychedelics, alcohol any purer than near beer, & especially sacrifices were not allowed within 5 yards of the perimeter of Fenton Works & neither were D's sexual indiscretions.

If he brings that shit anywhere near his family, no one will find the pieces. And if he gets caught with that sort of thing here, then Jack's never met the man.

Like, the supernatural stuff is fine, whatever.

Typical Fenton clan brouhaha, but Jack raised a couple of wonderful, talented, genius kids.

(Even if Danny was having a rough time keeping his grades up at the moment, he could still reverse engineer any one of their inventions practically on autopilot & sometimes could even surpass Jack himself in terms of guerilla science & ingenuity, but that's not the point!)

His kids were brilliant & they don't do drugs or commit crimes or go out drinking, & he's not about to have one Bignaceous Ditryck T. Fenton walking in & screwing up the 2 (3 if they’ve adopted Ellie) most sane, well-adjusted children born into the Fenton clan in 5 generations just because he couldn't behave like an adult for a week! Like, he loves D, but “Seriously, D, you need serious help.”

Which would probably start a bit of a dismissive handwaving about how, of course, he’d never dream of it! But Jack just narrowed his eyes at the other man’s insane smile before sighing with a slump of his shoulders before letting them in reluctantly.

Anyway, I'd very much appreciate Amethyst Ocean to be a thing here. This is the DP ship that I've been shipping since I first watched the show. And it was made canon.

Of course, in the end, it's your choice. Not mine.

Also, keep in mind that if Phantom Planet isn't canon, then neither is A Glitch In Time. Just something to remember.

#danny phantom #dp #hunter the parenting

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vxmpjules · 2 years

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,,Fuck you'' ,,Can i have this dance?" X.T

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x reader

Pronouns: Non rlly used

Warnings: None just Xavier being lowk mean

Preview: You and Xavier haven't always been so friendly with eachother but it's the Rave'N and you just got stood up by your date and he's been feeling something for you sometime now so he takes matters into his own hands.

I sat, lonely as ever at the Rave'N looking at everybody else dancing or chatting with their friends and dates. Unfortunately for me my date just stood me up like it was nothing, I looked as Yoko walked over to me.

,,Y/n, are you sure you don't want to come with us? I don't want you to be alone most of the night'' she commented, small glint of worry in her tone. ,,No, i want you all to have fun not to be worrying about me all the night, have fun I don't want this to be a pity party" you remarked with a sad smile shooing her away to have fun with the other's.

Now there was someone's eyes studying your every move, you had no idea of course your thoughts only being on how you got stood up by some normie. I mean you kinda expected it but you had some hope they would've showed up.

You stood up to get some more punch for like the 100th time this night. As you poured the punch in the cup the person who has been eyeing you the whole night approaches you behind.

,,Getting punch again? Aren't you tired of drinking it don't you have anything better to do?" He asked as you rolled your eyes ,,What does it concern you? Think I'm gonna die from drinking too much punch?" You remarked annoyed.

,,Just asking don't have to be so moody all the time, Jesus." He replied with an offended look ,,So what happened to your date?" He asks again. ,,You scared them off already?" He commented as he smirked stupidily ,,No they stood me up." You responded your mouth drawn in a thin line. ,,Makes sense, you're too much to deal with" he sheepishly said looking straight into your eyes as they widened.

,,Fuck you." You remarked angerly with your eyebrows furrowed ,,Can i have this dance?" He asked as the new song started playing and he put his arm out for you to take it. You looked at his smirking face and back at his hand again and again. You took his hand still with the same look on your face, if you're having a miserable night why not make it miserable for him too? He started leading you to the dance floor.

You could probably recognize it as a chase Atlantic song maybe uncomfortable? You both start dancing to the song as everyone has their eyes on you two especially Bianca, whispers where heard all around you either liking the duo or the opposite.

As the end of the song started coming closer you both begined getting closer and closer to eachother to the point where you both could hear your hot breathes hit eachothers faces. Xavier started leaning in closer to your fave, lips getting near eachothers. In this moment it just felt right, the music, the place everything. You pulled him by the collar of his shirt and emerged your lips to his, his hands cupping your cheeks on his hands massaging them lovingly and your hands moving to his neck. He smiled against you lips.

,,You can't even imagine how long I've waited for to do this.." he whispers into the kiss and you both slowly pull away. Your face with light blush and him smiling stupidly at you ,,You were really a bitch just to get a kiss out of me" you remarked moving your hands to cup his cheeks ,,And you still went along with it" he commented back as he got close again and kisses you softly as he pulls your waist to make you both closer to eachother. You smile gently in the kiss as you caress his cheek.

Thx to everyone that read this fic also sorry for not being active in writing I've been very VERY busy with school and since I got into volley I've been busy with that too 👽🫶🏻

#Spotify #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #x reader #wednesday series #percy white

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amostimprobabledream · 4 months

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forbidden fruit is the sweetest (Gin Ichimaru x Reader)

Wrote this little AU smutfic because there isn't enough of Gin in general and he should be in more porn. Also available on Ao3!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53897803 Your nails tap against the wineglass on the table. You haven't touched much of it because the taste is acidic, sour. You're not sure if it's a bad bottle or if that's just how this brand tastes - you're not much of a wine drinker, but at least sipping from it (or pretending to) gives you something to do between awkward silences. To be honest, this entire evening is well out of your comfort zone. You don't know what you were thinking letting Rangiku talk you into this - one day she just plopped herself down in the seat across from you, her chest heaving. "We really need to get you out there." she declared in final tones, like she was continuing a conversation you'd just been having. "It's not good to mope around after some guy."

It’s pretty ironic, really, since no doubt Rangiku had done plenty of moping over the same person you were. But it wasn't like you could tell her that - even if nothing official had been confirmed, you weren't stupid, you knew that Gin and Rangiku had a long, complicated history that an outsider couldn't possibly hope to understand. And how you were supposed to compete with a woman like Rangiku Matsumoto - even if you wanted to? So here you are, at a speed dating thing, sitting here in the vain hope that you might find some guy that might make you forget about Gin Ichimaru and the fact that, despite your better judgement, you were in love with him.

"So, um…" the fifth guy opposite you stumbles through his line of questioning, and you can't even remember his name. All the men you've spoken to so far tonight talk like they were given a script they didn't bother to learn properly - the same questions, same responses and the whole time you want to scream. You've even started just making things up to just try and inject a little variety into your responses, because why not? “Where are you from?”

Oh, riveting question. It’s not like I haven’t been asked that four times tonight.

You know you’re being judgmental, so that’s a winning combination, judgmental and unattractive, but you tried going into this with an open mind and despite your expectations being low, you still find yourself feeling disappointed. How can so many different people all talk the same? It doesn’t help none of them are that attractive, either.

You wonder if you can overcome cost sunk fallacy and just get up and leave – just walk out of here and leave the shitty wine and overly loud music and interminably dull conversation behind. Sure, you’ll go home, curl up on your futon and feel like a failure, but at least you’ll be at home, in your futon, and not here.

The conversation peters out, namely because the responses to such inane questions can only be milked for so much prattling smalltalk before it dwindles into awkwardly nodding at each other. You play with your phone, wondering if it’s normal to feel so desperately ill at ease you want to rip your own skin off. Probably not, but you’re sure you can’t be totally alone in that regard. When it’s time for the men to get up and move seats, you don’t even bother hiding the relief on your face. After all, no doubt he was as keen to get away from you as you were him.

That’s when the next guy sits down and introduces himself as Takeshi. A salaryman. He’s nice. Which may sound like you’re damning him with faint praise, but considering everyone else has been mediocre at best, you’ll take “nice” gladly. You tell him your name and he smiles, like you’ve given him some good news.

"What do you do for work?” he asks, picking up his shochu.

“Well...”

You hate answering this question – it’s just a job. It’s not like you’re not a doctor or a firefighter or something, someone who lives for their job and studied for years to become one. You do your work because you have to, because it’s how you pay to live in your apartment and that’s preferable than living under a bridge. It doesn’t really say much about you as a person, really, except for the obsession with your boss.

Stop it. You think to yourself, sternly. Give him a chance.

Rangiku is right – you do need to get laid.

Easy for her to say, though. Rangiku doesn’t need to attend events like these because the idea she’d ever need to is absolutely laughable. You’ve seen men actually walk into things because they were too busy staring at her to watch where they were going. Women either hate her or they look at her in awe. Rangiku Matsumoto ever being short on offers for dates, or sex, or even someone to just do her bidding is ridiculous. But it’s not for you, even though you hate yourself a little bit for admitting it, because you know it’s the truth. You’re not like her.

“Oh, nothing special, just office stuff.” You say, trying to sound breezy. “What about you?”

God, you sound so fake. Why can’t people talk about things that are actually interesting? This is the equivalent of conversational elevator music. When does expected standard become acceptable to ignore for the sake of spicing things up a bit?

Perhaps you’ve been a little spoiled, though. You can think of someone who always manages to keep you on your toes and never bores you. But you give your head a quick shake like you’re trying to flick away a fly and try to pay attention to Takeshi, even though you’re more focused on the movement on his lips than the words themselves.

“So…what do you like to do for fun?” Takeshi asks.

Another kind of generic question, but at least he does sound somewhat interested when you answer. He's easy to read, you notice. His emotions are all just right there on his face, which feels…strange. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it’s like the difficulty on a video game has suddenly dropped.

“And you?” you prompt, deciding to go out on a limb and ask something direct. “What brings you here? Looking at you I wouldn’t think you have problems getting asked out.”

Shit, did that sound sarcastic? You didn’t mean it to be. But Takeshi seems pleased by the comment, and you notice he has a dimple when he smiles.

“Well, to be honest I’m usually so tired after work I go home and just crash.” He says with a self-deprecating laugh, combing his fingers through light brown hair. “And most of the women in my office are married. Or over fifty and smell of boiled sweets.”

“Ha!” you bark out a laugh, the first time you’ve laughed or even smiled genuinely all night. “Yeah, I get that. Plus, there’s that whole worry about if things don’t go well with a colleague, you still have to face them all the time over the water cooler.”

“Water cooler?” Takeshi blinks.

“Nevermind.” You take another sip of your wine, then make a face. It truly is disgusting – why are you still drinking it at all? Time to be the change you want to be. “Excuse me, let me go buy myself something less vile.”

“I’ll come with you!” he practically jumps out of his seat.

Things flow surprisingly easy once you find someone you can talk to – Takeshi doesn’t understand all your little jokes and you suspect he finds your habitual sliding into sarcasm somewhat confusing, but he’s at least got enough social intelligence to ask questions and reply with more than one-word answers and he even insists on paying for your drink. A little unease creeps through you, wondering if it’s a trick and he’s trying to build a tab against you by doing it, but he seems so eager to be of use in some way that you capitulate. You can always buy him one later.

Soon enough there’s a call for a break – apparently events like these are split into two to give everyone a little time to gather their thoughts, buy more alcohol, go to the bathroom, smoke, whatever. You decide to slip outside, where there’s this surprisingly pleasant little outdoor seating area with picnic tables and a few plants in huge planters (probably so drunk people can’t knock them over), an alleyway leading out to the street. You perch down at one of the tables and suck in a deep breath, before checking your phone and generally enjoying some quiet. With the music pumping through the speakers and the buzzing of conversation, you know that if you linger too long, you’ll wake up with a headache tomorrow. You make a mental note not to just collapse into bed when you get home no matter how much you want to and get something to drink – juice or whatever you have in the fridge.

“There you are.”

You glance over your shoulder. Oh. Of course, Takeshi followed you out – why wouldn’t he? Still, a little irritation nudges at you, which you try to ignore.

“Yeah. The music in there is…kinda loud.” You say, with a friendly grimace.

“Yeah, it is.”

He comes to sit down next to you, and he’s very close, his thigh pressed against yours, denim rubbing up against your skin. Again, a spark of annoyance at how he didn’t even think twice about encroaching on your personal space when you clearly want a minute alone. You clear your throat, feeling a sudden weight between you that wasn’t present when you were talking inside. Rather than being exhilarating, you feel nervous. Almost a little queasy – now there’s a subtle sort of pressure, bearing down on you. An expectation has formed and one way or another, you’re going to have to meet it. Irrationally, you resent Takeshi a little for this, for this sudden invisible hand pressing down on the back of your neck.

Do you have a right to feel uncomfortable? Isn’t this why you came here – for something like this to happen?

Yet…

Takeshi says your name, making you jump, and when you turn to look at him, he’s staring intently at you, his eyes looking oddly gooey and wet in his head, almost like he’s on the brink of tears. Or is that just a trick of the light?

“Yes?” you say, hyperaware of everything suddenly. Your clothes, previously sitting comfortably on you, feel itchy. You want to take off your necklace, your makeup. You want to run away. To not be seen.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathes.

If he notices that the pause that follows this question is slightly too long, he doesn’t comment on it. Perhaps he chooses not to notice it. Your throat feels dry, and you swallow.

“Okay.” You answer, because you’d feel like a hypocrite if you said no.

So he does.

It's…fine.

Damned by faint praise again, huh? You think, as his mouth touches yours. He only makes a couple of seconds pretense at actually kissing you, before he’s clumsily licking at your mouth to ask for you to open it. You do, because the way he’s licking your lips is tickling them and it’s kind of irritating, and then his tongue, a wet slab, thrusts between your top and bottom teeth. Your own tongue is buffeted to the side for a second and you have to push it into his mouth just to get some air.

And, most damning of all… in your head, a countdown starts – you’ve been kissing for a couple of seconds and you’re already bored and waiting for it to be over.

You make a noise like a gag and draw your head back, wiping saliva off your chin with the back of your hand. Ugh. Ew.

“Sorry.” Takeshi says with a breathy laugh, and he can’t ignore the disapproval in your face. “Let me try again-“

“My, my.”

You both freeze.

Like something out of a comedy movie, except you don’t feel much like laughing, both of you slowly turn your heads towards the voice, even though you don’t need to – you know who has caught you out here – you’d know that voice anywhere.

Gin stands watching you both with a slight tilt to his head, that permanent smile stretched wide.

And your heart, weak, traitorous thing it is, begins to thump loudly at the sight of him, like a dog wagging its tail.

He looks good too – white shirt, black trousers, a thin silver chain of a necklace disappearing into his collar. You can smell a hint of the cologne he uses, a subtle tease to your nose instead of the cloying, overpowering brands you’ve been unintentionally inhaling all night.

Both you and Takeshi stand up in sync, like you’re in a play and have just remembered your stage directions. Gin glides closer with graceful, soundless footsteps, the white of his shirt making him look not unlike a ghost in the dim outdoor lighting.

The appearance of Gin drives home a truth that you have been subconsciously fleeing from, as efficiently as a sledgehammer whacking down a nail. Because the thing is, it doesn’t matter if somebody is nice, or if they’re a decent kisser, or if they don’t mind waiting politely for you to make up your mind about what you want to do next.

The fact is, as long as Gin Ichimaru holds your heart in his hands, there is no hope of giving it to anyone else. And he knows it.

You freeze and a trickle of panic crawls down your spine. Your lipgloss is smudged and it's pretty obvious what you were just doing. Your eyes dart from Takeshi to Gin - does he know? Know that your heart didn't even change its speed the whole time Takeshi was touching you? Know that all you could think about when you spoke to every guy in there, you could only see inscrutable smiles and long, elegant fingers in your mind's eye?

"Sir." you say, feeling silly - it feels a little late to fall back on protocol now, but what else can you say?

"I'll take it from here," Gin says, ostensibly to Takeshi, but it’s no doubt difficult for him to tell considering Gin’s eyes are closed as usual and his face is still squarely facing you.

“I-“ Takeshi says, glancing at you, but you barely register the quizzical tilt of his eyebrow, too busy staring at Gin like a deer in headlights.

Ordinarily a man gatecrashing another man’s date and summarily dismissing him would provoke anger, defiant, maybe even the beginning of a fight, but despite the constant smiling, Gin’s don’t-fuck-with-me vibes are immaculate and since you clearly know him, Takeshi gives in rather quickly.

“Oh, um…sure. Goodnight, then.” He said, with an awkward little nod.

You know that you should be insisting he stay, apologise for…well, for before, that you should do something. But keeping him around for Gin to torment would be far crueller than indifference, so you just nod back.

“Night.” You say, firmly, and wearing a look of polite bewilderment, Takeshi goes back inside.

Silence settles like snow as the door shuts with a dull thus behind Takeshi. Gin looks at you, and you find your eyes sliding away. Words tangle in your throat. “Why are you here?” you demand rather rudely, blinking hard to fight back the peculiar but strong urge to tear up. Did Rangiku tell him about this?

Why does he have to spoil everything?

“I went for a walk,” Gin replies with that fucking smile still adorning his face and he moves closer to you, his footsteps smooth and flowing as water. “Imagine my surprise to come across such a racy little scene. Tell me, do ya always let strange men kiss you in alleyways?”

“How’s that any of your business?” you bite back, yet your find yourself being crowded back against the wall as Gin steps closer, getting in your space.

His smile doesn’t waver, but working under him for so long has made you something of a specialist at reading the subtle nuances of his facial expressions – there’s a slight forcedness to his smile and a pinch of tension between his eyebrows that even he can’t totally smooth away.

“So, she has a tongue.” Gin hums, as if to himself.

His hand reaches out, pinching your chin, tilting your face up. You don’t resist and hate yourself for the undeniable crackle of electricity when he touches you – Gin rarely puts his hands on anyone, so that you’ve pushed him to do so gives you a stab of victory, paltry as it is.

But your feeling of triumph is incredibly short-lived as, with deliberate care like he’s excavating a fragile artefact from the ground, Gin swipes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip. Your mouth tingles where he touches you and you stand stock-still, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

Gin raises his hand to his mouth and, slowly, his tongue glides across the pad of his thumb, licking off the sweet tasting gloss that had been formally coating your lips. You can only stare at him, transfixed, watching his tongue slide back into his mouth.

“Tastes sweet.” Gin remarks in that teasing lilt of his. He still hasn’t let go of your face. “But I think…”

You’re given no time to react before suddenly, he is pulling you in, one hand clamping on your waist, leaning down to your mouth-

Oh, fuck.

This isn’t possible. It can’t be. As long as you’ve known him, Gin has always held you at a very specific arm’s length – far enough to leave you in a perpetual state of yearning, but close enough so that he can have you yanked back to him by a crook of his beckoning fingers.

That he could cross this barrier any time he liked to kiss you and chose not to, only to do it now, is almost inconceivable.

But-

His lips are surprisingly warm against yours, which is funny because his hands are cold. But heat is all you can think about, your body surging with it, a blush rising to your face, your mouth opening for him without a thought. He invades your mouth like he invaded your head, leaving you no room to say a word, he won’t allow for any feeble denials or pointless questions. There are many ways to communicate, after all – words are just one of them.

Your back meets rough brick wall and you give a muffled grunt. Gin has your wrists pinned either side of your head and you feel like a butterfly on a slab – yet your cunt doesn’t seem to have the common sense to be wary of him like your brain does, because you can feel a telltale throb of excitement between your legs as he easily holds you in place, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

“Gin - sir-“ you stumble over your words.

“Shsh.” He hisses, and you shut up.

He pauses as he looks you up and down, even though his eyes are shut as always. A teasing smile curls at his lips and you dimly note he’s probably never seen you dressed up before, at least if you don’t count work Christmas parties. It seems he doesn’t have any problems with what you’re wearing, since nothing catty leaves his lips.

“I was right,” Gin nods slowly, his words a slow, measured singsong, like he’s about to read you a story. “Things like this gotta be savoured, y’know? I wonder…do you taste so good everywhere?”

Your mouth drops open, and your cheeks turn hot. Is he implying what you think he is?

“I- that’s-“ you splutter, because he’s always had the power to turn you into a gibbering moron even when he isn’t casually dropping sexual innuendos like a bomb.

Gin chuckles and gives your cheek an affectionate poke, before he tips his chin down, and slowly, with elegance, sinks down onto his knees. You can only watch him, transfixed, as he settles comfortably between your legs and he doesn’t have to tell you to part your legs – you do it without even thinking about it. You make the mistake of looking down.

Gin is looking up at you, between your spread thighs, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly that you know you’re going to have bruises where his thumbs are digging into your flesh.

And his eyes are open. Oh, fuck me sideways. You think, your own widening.

“Be a good girl and hold still.” Gin says in a silky voice, and now his eyes are open the gleam of amusement in them is all too visible to you. You could almost kick him for keeping them shut most of the time – they’re a beautiful shade of pale blue. You don’t have time to admire them for long though. Gin has business to attend to.

And attend it he does. He barely needs to do anything to keep you pressed against the wall, you’re rooted to the spot as his hands slide up your thighs, taking the gauzy material of your dress along with them. Cool air brushes up against your legs, but that isn’t the reason you’re shivering.

He smirks at the sight of your underwear – you’d worn something somewhat sexy to try and get into the spirit of tonight, but not a thong since you knew you’d be sitting down a while and didn’t want to think about it the whole time. So instead, he’s greeted by black panties with lacy panels on the sides, heated flesh just concealed beneath it.

“Now these,” Gin says in a singsong voice, snapping the elastic against your hip, the pop of noise in the stillness making you jolt. “Are the kind of panties you’d wear if you wanted to get fucked.”

“G-Gin…” you mewl.

He snickers at your embarrassment, eyes shifting back to your crotch. Teasingly slow, like you’re a dessert he wants to savour, he starts to peel your underwear down, fingers massaging your flesh, kneading it. He leans in, his breath hot on your core.

His tongue is skilled, you knew that already, but now you’re getting a real firsthand experience with it. He isn’t shy about nuzzling up against your cunt, nails digging crescent marks into the flesh of your legs as he licks inbetween your folds, hot and mercilessly and you keen out loud. If anybody comes outside for a smoke right now, you are so fucked.

But all of it – the thrill of getting caught, shock of Gin touching you, the roughness of the brick scraping your bare skin, the chilly bite of a spring night and the way your head is swimming from nasty cheap wine and boiling-over lust…all of it throws what’s going on into blinding focus.

“Gin…” you keen aloud, wanting to pull his pretty silver locks but you don’t quite dare, so you settle for resting a hand on his shoulder instead, your fingers clamping down on him in a voice grip. “Oh, fuck…nngh…”

He just gives a muffled chuckle and amps up the pace, his long, slender fingers creeping up to tease at your clit while his mouth attends to your cunt. Your legs are wobbling as you try to maintain your balance, but it’s not easy when he’s working you over like this, reaching places you could never manage with your own fingers…how the fuck is he so good at this?! It’s like he has a perfect, 3-D map of where everything is and exactly what to do to drive you insane. Your head has gone from verging on a headache to pleasantly, blissfully light and fuzzy, electricity zipping up and down your limbs, heat blooming in your core. He has to stop or you’re going to explode, but if he stops now you think you really might die…

“I’m coming…” you gasp out, tilting your head back, breath coming out in stuttered gasps. “Gin, please, fuck…don’t stop…”

Fuck you. I love you. Fuck you. The words ring over and over in your head as – for once - Gin obliges you.

The feeling is so intense that for a second you’re practically swooning, supernovas of lust and relief exploding like fireworks behind your shut eyelids. It’s ridiculous – you’re against a brick wall outside a bar, you can smell cigarettes from a nearby ashtray, it’s chilly and any moment somebody wanting their nicotine fix could see you. Yet your heart is pounding, warmth painting your face, swelling in your chest and yes, the satisfaction of seeing Gin leaning back, licking his lips and slowly rising to his feet like he did nothing more taxing than tying his shoelace helps. You hurriedly make sure your dress is safely floating about above your knees once again, smoothing it down with shaking hands. As illicitly thrilling as it is to do this outside, you don’t want anybody who passes you to immediately know just what you’ve been doing. Though you’re sure it wouldn’t be hard to work out – you probably smell of sex now, overpowering the perfume you’d picked out to wear tonight. Of course Gin would figure out a way to exert his influence by masking your scent as well as ruining your lipgloss.

How are you supposed to go back inside now? Well, obviously, you aren’t. Gin’s made that abundantly clear – no toy of his is to go exchanging clumsy kisses with other men until he’s bored of playing with them, and if he has to go to extremes to prove his point, so be it.

He's a fucking cruel bastard.

You nearly ask, What are we? Out loud, but thankfully before you can speak, Gin grabs your wrist and starts tugging you along after him. He doesn’t explain himself and you stumble after him on unsteady legs, still tingling with the afterglow and feeling the phantom touch of his tongue on you.

There’s a taxi waiting in the street outside, the driver sitting patiently, checking something on his phone. Your eyes snap to Gin – how long has that been there? When did he order it? But you don’t get to ask any of these questions, before Gin steps across to the back door and opens it, practically bundling you inside.

“Take this one home, will ya?” he says cheerfully to the driving, reeling off your address and you’re astonished that he knows it well enough to be able to repeat it off the top of his head. “She’s had enough to drink, I think.”

“Gin, what-? Why-?” you blurt out, trying desperately to get some semblance of an explanation for all this out of him.

Surely he can’t have done all that for his own amusement. You never were sure if Gin was fully aware of how you felt. Most people in your office tend to be wary of him at best, so your skittishness with him could easily be attributed to that. But Gin is a very perceptive man, so perhaps those times when he would lean over you as you worked to point at something on your screen, or stood too close to you whenever you were in the lift together, or when he’d send you these secretive little smirks across the room…maybe that was more than just a tease. Was he trying to tell you all along that he knew?

He leans in close to you, one hand gripping the door, and your heart flutters in your chest, wondering if he’s going to kiss you again, wanting him to but also feeling that familiar swoop of fear and excitement-

He just smiles and boops your nose and unceremoniously shuts the door on in your face, and the car speeds away into the night. And belatedly, you realise something else, something that makes your legs clamp together – He took your fucking panties.

His voice rings mockingly in your head, the last thing he said before sending you on your way, the mirth in his voice brimming over.

“See you on Monday.”

#Gin Ichimaru #Gin x Reader #Bleach x Reader #Fanfiction #Smut #Gin being a bastard #Reader Insert

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