#Why is this man in the most random places of media

[wierdshenanigans]

SO WAS ANYBODY GONNA FUCKING TELL ME DAVID TENNANT PLAYS BARTY CROUCH FUCKING JUNIOR IN THE HARRY POTTER MOVIES OR WAS I SUPPOSED TO FIND OUT MYSELF

#david tenannt #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty x evan #marauders #harry potter #hp #hp marauders #pjo hoo toa #slytherin skittles #barty jr #david tennant #good omens #Why is this man in the most random places of media #Scrooge McDuck #Crowley #Barty crouch fucking junior #HOW #HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE

[headspace-hotel]

My random unsubstantiated hypothesis of the day: the popularity of "stim" videos, fidget toys, and other things like that is a warning sign that something's Deeply Wrong with our world.

Don't freak out. I am autistic. These things are not bad. However, can we just...take a second to notice how weird it is that there are entire social media accounts full of 10-second videos of things making crunching noises, people squishing slime in their hands, and objects clacking together, and that enjoying them is mainstream and normal?

It seems that nowadays, almost everyone exhibits sensory-seeking behavior, when just a decade ago, the idea of anyone having "sensory needs" was mostly obscure. It is a mainstream Thing to "crave" certain textures or repetitive sounds.

What's even weirder, is that it's not just that "stim" content is mainstream; the way everything on the internet is filmed seems to look more like "stim" content. TikToks frequently have a sensory-detail-oriented style that is highly unusual in older online content, honing in on the tactile, visual and auditory characteristics of whatever it's showing, whether that's an eye shadow palette or a cabin in a forest.

When an "influencer" markets their makeup brand, they film videos that almost...highlight that it's a physical substance that can be smudged and smeared around. Online models don't just wear clothes they're advertising, they run their hands over them and make the fabric swish and ripple.

I think this can be seen as a symptom of something wrong with the physical world we live in. I think that almost everyone is chronically understimulated.

Spending time alone in the forest has convinced me of this. The sensory world of a forest is not only much richer than any indoor environment, it is abundant with the sorts of sensations that people seem to "crave" chronically, and the more I've noticed and specifically focused on this, the more I've noticed that the "modern" human's surroundings are incredibly flat in what they offer to the senses.

First of all, forests are constantly permeated with a very soft wash of background noise that is now often absent in the indoor world. The sound of wind through trees has a physiological effect you can FEEL. It's always been a Thing that people are relaxed by white noise, which leads to us being put at ease by the ambient hum of air conditioning units, refrigerators and fans. But now, technology has become much more silent, and it's not at all out of place to hypothesize that environments without "ambient" white noise are detrimental to us.

Furthermore, a forest's ambience is full of rhythmic and melodic elements, whereas "indoor" sounds are often harsh, flat and irregular.

Secondly: the crunch. This is actually one of the most notably missing aspects of the indoor sensory world. Humans, when given access to crunchable things, will crunch them. And in a forest, crunchy things are everywhere. Bark, twigs and dry leaves have crisp and brittle qualities that only a few man-made objects have, and they are different with every type of plant and tree.

Most humans aren't in a lot of contact with things that are "destroyable" either, things you can toy with and tear to little bits in your hands. I think virtually everyone has restlessly torn up a scrap of paper or split a blade of grass with their thumbnail; it's a cliche. And since fidget toys in classrooms are becoming a subject of debate, I think it pays to remember that the vast majority of your ancestors learned everything they knew with a thousand "fidget toys" within arm's reach.

And there is of course mud, and clay, and dirt, and wet sand. I'm 100% serious, squishing mud and clay is vital to the human brain. Why do you think Play-Doh is such a staple elementary school toy. Why do you think mud is the universal cliche thing kids play in for fun. It's such a common "stim" category for a reason.

I could go on and on. It's insane how unstimulating most environments humans spend time in are. And this definitely contributes to ecological illiteracy, because people aren't prepared to comprehend how detailed the natural world is. There are dozens of species of fireflies in the United States, and thousands of species of moths. If you don't put herbicides on your lawn, there are likely at least 20 species of plant in a single square meter of it. I've counted at least 15 species of grass alone in my yard.

Would it be overreach to suggest that some vital perceptive abilities are just not fully developing in today's human? Like. I had to TEACH myself to be able, literally able, to perceive details of living things that were below a certain size, even though my eyes could detect those details, because I just wasn't accustomed to paying attention to things that small. I think something...happens when almost all the objects you interact with daily are human-made.

The people that think ADHD is caused by kids' brains being exposed to "too much stuff" by Electronic Devices...do not go outside, because spending a few minutes in a natural environment has more stimuli in it than a few hours of That Damn Phone.

A patch of tree bark the size of my phone's screen has more going on than my phone can display. When you start photographing lots of living organisms, you run into the strange and brain-shifting reality that your electronic device literally cannot create and store images big enough to show everything you, in real life, may notice about that organism.

#nature #thoughts #random #forest

[zvaigzdelasas]

[ABC is Private US Media]

Attacks on the international airport in Port-au-Prince generated headlines worldwide. Coordinated assaults on multiple prisons freed thousands of prisoners over the weekend. But all that could be just the beginning of what an increasing number of Haiti experts are openly referring to as a full-blown rebellion against the country's sitting government.

I was speaking to a senior diplomatic official in Haiti on Monday, a very sober and calculated person not prone to hyperbole. In discussing the situation, I used the word "gangs" and he cut me off.

"I would stop using that term if I were you," he said, arguing that gangs are what you find in American cities. In Haiti, there are multiple large criminal groups with enormous firepower, now unified with the stated goal of toppling the sitting government.

"They are armed rebel groups and this is civil war," the source said.[...]

Some 80% of the capital is under gang control, if not more, according to the UN. Those groups have fought each other and the government for years[...]

But things have fundamentally changed in the last month. We will get to the "why" in a moment, but consider the following:

-Haiti's dozens of gangs, largely grouped into two competing alliances, have seemingly set aside their differences and rather than attack each other, are working together to attack the government.

-The gangs are not hiding their goal. It is a change in government. Gang leadership, most notably a man called Jimmy Chérizier, aka Barbecue, has said the fighting won't stop until the unelected acting Prime Minister Ariel Henry is no longer in power. He's called for Henry's arrest.

-The gangs have launched a series of well-planned, massive attacks against key targets around the city. Nearly 30 police precincts have also come under fire, many completely taken over or destroyed. Government buildings have also been attacked, including one just 500 meters from the U.S. embassy. There is random, sporadic violence constantly around the city, but these attacks are strategic and targeted.

As to the why—gangs have long sought to fill a power vacuum left behind when President Jovenel Moïse was assassinated in July 2021. But an inflection point came last month.

Henry, in charge since just a few weeks after Moïse's death, had said he would step down by early February. But then, he changed course. The U.S.-backed Henry said the security situation needed to improve before he could leave and new elections could take place. Last week, he committed only to holding elections in August of 2025, a full 18 months away.

That appeared to be the final straw.

In a way, this gang-fueled violence is the armed manifestation of widespread popular anger against Henry and his government. Ordinary Haitians are furious over the ever-worsening poverty, hunger, and violence we've seen under Henry. He is a near-universally loathed public figure.

It is not hard to find people in Port-au-Prince who fully support the actions taken by the gangs, even if they are terrified that they themselves or their families could be collateral damage.

It is not that most in Haiti support the gangs or the chaos they cause. Far from it. Most despise the death and destruction they’ve wrought in the country. But for now, some feel the gangs are the only group capable of forcing Henry out.[...]

Remember this staggering fact: in this democratic country, there is not one elected leader serving at any level of government anywhere in the country. No elections have been held since 2016.[...]

So the rebellion, the attempted revolution, has begun--alongside the seemingly never-ending suffering of millions of innocents.

6 Mar 24

[love-belle]

paper rings !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she would say yes, even with paper rings.

or

for when you're certain that they're your person. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au irl // lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - one of the cutest things i have ever written, loved this request!! i hope you like it, i love you, thank you for reading <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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yourusername best believe i'm still bejeweled

7,718 comments

username MOTHER IS MOTHERING

username just one chance pls 🙏

username im so norma abt her hahahaha!! SO normal abt losing my wife to a man that goes vroom vroom in circles!!

lewishamilton the most beautiful ❤️

-> yourusername thank u baby ❤️

lewishamilton can't believe how lucky i am

-> yourusername that's all me

-> username i NEED what these bitches have

username she's not wearing her engagement ring question mark

lilymhe girlfriend 💌

-> yourusername girlfriend 💌

username the ring ⁉️⁉️⁉️

username she ate so hard they named the restaurant after her

username she's not wearing her ring ://

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

"hey, baby."

"hey," lewis mumbled, not sparing y/n a single glance as he continued to watch a random episode of modern family.

"how was your night?" y/n continued to make conversation with him, removing her high heels and discarding her handbag. she walked towards where he was at and kissed the top of his head before petting roscoe a few times. "sorry, there was traffic and then i had to drop aaliyah at her boyfriend's place cause she got too drunk to drive."

"'s okay," was all lewis said, making y/n frown as she turned back to look at him. he was still watching the tv, his head thrown back against the back of the couch with roscoe next to him.

"uh — i'll be right back, i need to change," y/n spoke, her confusion only growing as her fiancé gave no reply, not even a slight hum as an indication that he had heard her.

moving towards their bedroom, y/n could feel herself grow more confused, thinking of all of the possible reasons as to why lewis would be so short and distant with her.

maybe he was just having a bad day? maybe he was just tired? was he sick? did i do something? another rumour of me hooking up with my best friend? he found out i broke his favourite vase?

her mind swarming with plausible to way-too-ridiculous reasons, she didn't even notice her changing her own clothes until she was left staring at the heap that was her dress by her feet. picking it up and throwing it on the bed, she made her way towards the living room, hoping that maybe she just imagined it. that it was just ber overthinking mind that over analysed a situation.

"hey," y/n spoke again, walking around to the couch to the front of it. sensing that she wanted to sit here, roscoe stood up and moved a bit, just enough so that y/n could scoot in and then laid back, this time on her. "hey," lewis replied, his eyes flickering to her before he focused again on the show in front of him.

okay so, maybe she didn't imagine it.

"what are we watching?" y/n questioned, scratching behind roscoe's ears, desperate to make a conversation with him, seeing him for the first time since this afternoon.

"modern family," lewis sighed exasperated and as much as y/n hated to admit it, it made her feel like he didn't want her there at the moment. sure, he may have had his reasons but it didn't feel exactly good, noticing that her fiancé didn't wanna be around her at the moment.

as long as she's been with lewis, almost seven years, they've always communicated with each other. from the smallest of things like when y/n told lewis that she hated his choice of carpet for their living room to the biggest and the most important stuff like when lewis talked to y/n about wanting to wait until after they were married to have kids.

and the best thing about this was the other always understood. lewis understood that yeah, bright pink did clash with the warm and pastel tones of their home and y/n did understand that waiting until they were fully settled down was the best option.

and now, watching him not talk to her when there was obviously something bothering him was a bit confusing but still, she knew it was best to give him some space.

"uh — i'll be in the bedroom," y/n spoke, her voice just barely above a whisper and she knew he heard her because of the way his face changed and the way he turned to look at her with the slightest bit of confusion showing in his eyes. "it's been a long night and i just really want to sleep."

"okay," lewis whispered back and gave her a small smile, the most reaction she'd been able to get out of him since she came home.

"good night," y/n stood up, kissing roscoe's on the head before she turned toward lewis, who was watching his with an unreasonable look on his face. "good night, baby, i love you."

she barely heard an 'i love you' back before she was walking away from the couch and towards their bedroom. closing the door behind her, she picked up her dress from the bed and placed it on the chair by the dressing table, making a mental note to take it to the dry cleaners. after looking at herself one more time in the mirror and removing whatever was left of her makeup, she was in bed, covers drawn up to her chest.

y/n didn't know how long she laid there for, moving in and out of sleep. her mind was still stuck on lewis like a broken record, wondering what had happened while she was out. in the midst of her analysis, she didn't hear the footsteps approach the door until the person was right in front of it and the handle twisted and y/n quickly closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep just so he wouldn't question her about what she was doing.

the door opened and closed and the soft patter of footsteps could be heard.

there was silence for a full minute before lewis got in next to her, the sheet rustling. for the first five minutes, he stayed on his own side and y/n had to resist the urge to pull him closer to her, finding it hard to sleep when he was not holding her. then, he turned towards her and y/n had a feeling he was starting at her, finding it harder and harder to not let her expression change. she could feel movement next to her and ruled it out as lewis getting comfortable until a hand moved to lay across her abdomen and pulled her closer.

she heard lewis inhale deeply, his head moving to lay in the crook of her neck. she could feel his warm breath on the exposed part of her collarbone, feeling the goosebumps rise on her skin. she shifted against him, her hand moving to hold him closer.

they stayed like that for what felt like mere minutes, their breathing the only sound in the room along with the ticking of the clock with each passing second. y/n figured lewis fell asleep, with how even his breathing was and she was about to move to get a bit more comfortable when he spoke.

"i'm sorry," his voice was quiet in the room, his thumb tracing circles on her stomach where her tank top had risen up slightly. "for ignoring you, kind of and being distant. i know you don't like it."

"it's okay, lew. i just want you to be able to talk to me, whenever you feel like," y/n assured him, kissing the top of his head.

"it's a stupid thing, really," lewis chuckled half heartedly, his body vibrating against hers. "don't even worry about it."

"i always worry about it when it comes to you, you know that," y/n reminded him, making him look at her. "and it's not stupid if it bothers you. what is it, love?"

"it's just that — " lewis stopped before he could continue, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "you weren't wearing your engagement ring, when you were out with your friends and then that post you posted on your instagram, people took notice of that and they were all like 'why isn't she wearing her ring' and 'did they break up' and there were some hate comments too. i reported them, by the way. and then, i don't know, i just kinda got into too much overthinking and just made myself upset over nothing and i ignored you and you went back when it was so clear you just wanted to talk to me and i feel — "

he was interrupted by a kiss.

y/n kissed in the middle of his rambling, pulling him closer with the front of his t-shirt while one of her hands rested on his cheek. a surprised noise left lewis' mouth before he melted into the kiss, tilting his head so that he could deepen the kiss.

y/n pulled away, making lewis chase her lips once again and she gave him another soft kiss before pulling back fully and looking at him with a soft smile.

"do you not like the ring?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth, making y/n furrow her eyebrows.

"what?"

"do you not like the ring?" lewis repeated himself, sitting up slightly. "because if so, i can get you another one and this time you can come with me. i chose that one all by myself and i wasn't even really sure about it being 'you' because your style literally changes every week and i can totally understand if you don't like it like — that's totally valid and i'm sure — "

"oh, my god," y/n sat up straight, folding legs under her as she looked at her fiancé. "you think i don't like the ring?"

"... yeah."

"lewis," y/n dragged out the 's', standing up from the bed and rapidly moving towards her dresser, opening a small box and pulling out her ring, her engagement ring. "this the most beautiful ring i have ever seen in my life."

and it was, really. it had intricate patterns throughout the band, with a giant diamond sitting in the middle with several diamonds surrounding it. and what made it even more special was the fact that lewis had his initials, along with hers engraved on the inside of the ring. that's what made y/n fall in love with it.

"really?" lewis asked hopefully from the bed, watching her make her towards his side of the bed. she sat down next to him and took his hand in hers, the ring still clutched in her free hand.

"but that ring is not the reason i said yes, you know that, right? like, you could ask me to marry you with a ring made out of tissue paper and foil and i would still end up saying yes," y/n whispered, leaning in closer and placing a soft kiss on his lips before she gave him the ring and put out her hand for him to slide it on. "as long as it's you asking me that damn question."

lewis chuckled, sliding on the ring onto her ring finger and kissing it. he looked at her, the smile being so genuine that it shone in his eyes and y/n could see him being in love and she knew she was no different from him.

"marry me, will you?" lewis asked again, in the empty room with no one, no shining lights, no crowd standing there applauding, no extravagant arrangement of flowers, just them, a total contrast to when he had first asked the question. even though the answer was already yes, he couldn't help but ask. just so he could hear it one more time.

"only because you asked so nicely," y/n teased him, making lewis chuckle before he leaned in, closing the gap between them.

no shining lights, no crowd standing there applauding, no extravagant arrangement of flowers, just them.

yet, somehow, this managed to be even more special than that one.

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

y/n wasn't there when lewis woke up, just a post it note, along with a small box on her side of the bed saying that she was called to her office a bit early and wouldn't be home until late afternoon.

lewis smiled as he looked at the numerous hearts drawn on the note. he kept the note aside, mentally noting that he would have to add it to his collection of notes he had received from y/n throughout the course of their relationship. he took the box and opened it, his face scrunched up in confusion before he smiled, a laugh leaving him as he took out the contents of the box.

it was a paper ring.

the most simple thing yet he knew he would choose this over a million something diamond ring. a small heart on the top with the ridges along the band, it was perfect.

there was another note attached to it, just one simple line and it had lewis smiling for the rest of the day

'i like shiny things but i'd marry u with paper rings ♡'

yeah, he made the right choice marrying her.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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yourusername i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings 💌

tagged lewishamilton

8,719 comments

username NO ONE'S DOING IT LIKE THEM

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username TAYLOR SWIFT REFERENCE IM DEAD

lilymhe gf are u cheating on me ://

-> yourusername NEVER baby he's just a side piece

-> lewishamilton ...

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username no bc they're so in love i could throw up

charles_leclerc is that why he's been blasting that damn song the whole day

-> lewishamilton it's a great song ❤️

-> yourusername yes it is ❤️

username THE PAPER RINGS THE LOVE LETTER THE SONG IM DECEASED

lewishamilton uh huh that's right darling ❤️

-> yourusername you're the one i want ❤️

lewishamilton loved the ring so much 💍 i love you

-> yourusername im so glad <3 i love you sm

#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x fem!reader #lewis hamilton x female reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton instagram au #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 instagram au #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #fake instagram imagines #fake social media #social media au

[chrollohearttags]

what abt plug!sukuna?

first time he met you, he thought it was some kinda joke. i mean, pink nails, shortest skirt problem known to man and the tightest shirt with ‘stunna girl’ printed on the front.

now sukuna ain’t one to really hold down any girls but the way you was talking and moving ?? ma boy was down baddd. spent nights at home, fisting his dick to some pic he found on your insta page.

swore that he would kill anyone who you try to buy from other than him. he doesn’t want you to get hooked on anything that’s laced. other than his dick

you can continue 🫣, if you want

oh my goshhhh! 😫😫 fren you stay eating these up. I love this real bad!

you were the last person that Sukuna expected to see running in his face. There was just no way this cute ass girl even ran in the same circles that he did. But here you were..rubbing up on his chest and running game on him in the kitchen of the hang out spot for him and his boys. “Now tell me why I ain’t never seen you around here before..” “I be out the way..” Some of the city’s most notorious drug dealers and shooters and here you were in the midst of the party; a red cup in hand filled with Casamigos, stained with your lip gloss after each sip. Long Hello Kitty decorated acrylics wrapped around the plastic and and he could only imagine what they’d look like cupping his cock instead..he figured that you were the girl of one of his opps, looking to make him jealous or just some rich girl hanging out on the wrong side of town to be rebellious but it was nothing of the sort. You were just bad as hell..and before he knew it, he had folded!

three hours later and he had you in the front seat of his Trackhawk, hotboxing and facing a blunt. His tattooed hands resting on your calves..rubbing gently as he watched you place it between those plump lips. “That shit good, baby?” “Very..” this isn’t something that he’d normally do. Having some random girl in his car, laid up like this but he couldn’t help himself. Not when you were sitting so pretty in his lap as you rolled his weed and licked the blunt afterwards. Out of respect, he didn’t take it any further than night..nothing more than a few subtle brushes up your thigh and a kiss to the cheek. He wasn’t the type to rush things. But later than night, even after you two had long parted ways, the baddie with the butterfly tattoo, dressed like a Bratz doll was fresh on his mental. So much so, he found himself searching you up on social media and it was more than enough to keep his wheels turning. Before he knew it; sitting up in bed with a sheet tossed lightly across his lower half, Ryo found himself jacking off to your pictures. Foaming at the mouth and moaning your name at the sight of you twerking in a bikini and Moon Boots. Needless to say, he was hooked. So the next time you two linked for your next fix, there was no holding back for either of you. “I couldn’t wait to see you again. You been on my mind, baby..” “You been on my mine too, Ryo..shit!” Confessing as he held you midair, bouncing you up and down on his dick. Holding you as if you were practically weightless in his arms. A Cuban link swinging against his chest with each stroke. That night was the best you’d ever experienced! Getting high on both his sex and his weed. Placed into a mating press with his fingers in your mouth, slow thrusts from missionary with your toes in his and the backshots had you tapping out. Even so, you were hooked!..addicted and there wasn’t a chance that he’d ever let you get it from anyone else. Not if he had anything to do with it. Now every time you needed to reach ecstasy, whether through the drug or fucking, Ryo was the one you’d call. Not only that, he’d spoil you with gifts, take you out to eat and although things weren’t set in stone, when everyone saw you, they knew:

that’s Sukuna’s girl.

#cherry’s asks 🍒 #black fem reader #black reader #sukuna x black!reader #sukuna x black reader #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna imagine #jjk sukuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna jjk #sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #sukuna reader #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #jjk hcs #jjk x black reader #jjk au #plug!sukuna #his sexy ass omg #black fanfiction #jjk drabbles #cw smut #drugs cw #cw weed

[finelinevogue]

he’s just harry

summary - a couple of fan interactions with harry on the streets of london

word count: +1.1k

pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

Even though the media make it out that Harry hates being out in public on his days off, you know it is actually one of his favourite things to do.

Especially with you.

Harry is known for being a private man, but he can’t help what fans secretly record and post on the internet. He would do the same for Stevie Nicks and you would do the same for Taylor Swift, so neither of you are opposed to reporting anyone for secretly filming. 

A favourite pastime of yours and Harry’s is to actually watch back story-time videos of fans, from when they have met you and Harry. Which is what you were both currently doing, after having your dinner. 

Harry is laying on the bed in your shared hotel room. You lay against his back and are held tight to him by his arm wrapped around your waist. 

He leans down to look at you every few minutes and leaves a kiss on your forehead, just because he can. His fingers around your waist snake under your Pleasing sweatshirt - the one that is actually his - and stroke tiny circles on the skin of your tummy.

With some light jazz music playing in the background, you and Harry can’t feel anything but peace. 

He has your phone in his hand whilst he scrolls through the latest videos on TikTok with the tag # harrystyles.

The next video he scrolls to after and edit of himself on stage is from a meeting of a fan in London.

“I just met Harry Styles.” The girl screams from the inside of her car. The video pans around and her boyfriend is sat there with a grin, no doubt because his girlfriend is so happy.

“I get to say that every day.” You comment, making Harry pinch the skin at your waist. You laugh and carry on.

“Can I just say, first of all, I have been waiting for this moment for years. Always in my mysterious girl era, just in case. And the one day I am wearing slouchy clothes I stumble upon him on a random back road in London. Life clearly hates me.” She begins her story.

“She looked great, I thought.” You said and Harry made no comment. Most likely because he never paid attention to looking at anyone with interest anymore - not since he had found you.

“And Y/N. Oh my God! She’s fucking stunning. Like, I understand why Harry snatched her up.”

“I did find a pretty good egg.” Harry agreed.

“I am not an egg.” 

“Whatever you say, baby.”

“But they were both so lovely. Harry was really kind and thanked me for supporting him. I asked for a photo but they politely declined, which is a little frustrating, but maybe it was for the best since I looked so bad today!” The girl continues her story.

“Fuck sake.” Harry mumbles out and you pause the video, already knowing what thoughts were relaying through his mind. 

You turned your head so you could see his whole face before speaking to him.

“You’re not a bad person for not taking a photo with them. You shouldn’t make yourself feel bad either. You’re a person, just as they are. People are allowed to close off their privacy for the day if they want. Okay?” 

“Thank you.” Is all Harry responds with. Well, that and a minutes worth of kisses. 

You move onto another video, so not to upset Harry any more with the previous one. You couldn’t know whether she might say something else bad and you weren’t prepared to make Harry sad, so the next video it was.

This came from a girl in London airport.

“Oh fuck.” Harry instantly says when he sees the girl on the screen.

“What?” You asked, confused. You hadn’t even been aware this interaction had taken place and you were with him in the airport. Now you were just curious as to what had gone down.

“This is going to be so embarrassing for me.” He wines and tries to bury his face in your neck. You kiss the tip of his nose and push him away.

The video starts by the girl looking really nervous, before Harry pans into view on the other side of the screen. It was only their chins in the view, but it was still a very lovely view of your boyfriend.

“Hi.” The girl fumbles over her words.

“Hello.” He says, removing his sunglasses from his face since he had been found.

“I just saw you from over there and had to come and say hello. I know this is probably really annoying for you and I’m going to leave so as to not be a burden to you, but I really love your music and you are an amazing human being.” The girl rambles, but that might be the nicest of things you have heard a fan say to Harry.

Before the girl can leave, Harry asks that all important question.

“Thank you so much. Would you maybe like a photo?” He asks. 

“Aw Harry.” You pout and he pinches your waist again. “Quit that, will you?” You hit elbow him in his ribs gently.

“Yes please. Wow, thank you.” The video then tilts so Harry and this girl come onto the screen. Harry smiles a small smile and holds up his fingers in a peace sign. He looks very cute.

“Have a safe flight.” Harry says and goes to hold his hand out for the fan to shake, but instead knocks her phone out of her hand and it drops to the floor. 

“Harry!” You gasp and sit up a little more attentively.

“I know.” He cringes.

Luckily the phone was alright, but Harry had to prolong the conversation with the fan and even offered her a new one. She turned that down and thankfully he didn’t have to owe anything to anyone. You can tell at the end of the video he is embarrassed though.

“You dickhead.” You laugh at him. 

He puts the phone down and joins his other hand under your sweatshirt so they are both enjoying tracing over your skin. You hum in delight and breathe in the air that is scented by him.

“I’m tired.” He says, knocking his head against yours to rest.  It had been a long day of rehearsals and meetings for him today, but he didn’t mind because he knew that it would be worth it to spend an evening of peace with you. 

“I know, baby.”  You say, reaching a hand up behind your head to stroke over his curls. “We can go to bed now, if you want?” 

“Okay.”

You and Harry end up spending the next twenty minutes getting ready for bed and cuddle before you are both fast asleep, awaiting the first, last, ‘Love On Tour’ show tomorrow. 

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles boyfriend #love on tour #love on tour fic #finelinevogue fic

[starlitmark]

Summary: You should be scared of this tentacle alien, but you’re too far gone in pleasure to care. Pairing: alien!Jongho x human fem!reader Genre: smut Tropes: supernatural (alien) au Rating: R 18+ Warnings: tentacles, nipple play, fingering, bulging kink, size kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, alien cum, creampie Word Count: 2,532 Note: enjoy week two of Arousal August!! Thank you to @mejuii for beta/proofing this!!! <3

One minute you were peacefully lying in bed, half asleep, scrolling through random social media. Next, you’re in some sort of futuristic ship. You swear you’re dreaming. This has to be a dream. Though, it all feels so real. The way you can hear the mechanical whirring of something in the distance. The air is chilly, not unbearably, but just enough to have goosebumps on your skin. Taking it upon yourself, you start to wander down the painfully bright white hall in the direction you hear some sort of keys typing away. Your heart is beating out of your chest as your bare feet carry you down the hallway. The further you get down the long corridor, the more chilled the air around you becomes. You feel your nipple pebble up beneath your loose sleep shirt. As you reach the end of the hall, you see a humanoid figure sitting at a command center of sorts. 

“Oh, thank god there’s another life on this ship.” you whisper to yourself.

The humanoid creature whips his head around, and you see his bright pink hair and striking silver eyes. He’s stunning, to say the very least. He almost looks scared to see you behind him.

“H-how did you- oh my god did Wooyoung go and press another button again?” he whines.

Before you can get a single word out, he’s bolting through a doorway that closes tightly as soon as he’s through it. You didn’t think too hard about why he was so panicked. This is a dream, after all. You approach the command center and look out the wide window. The first thing you take notice of is how vivid all of the stars are. You can see each star’s individual color compared to what you can see from the ground. Then, you notice the Earth. Panic begins to rise in your chest again. It’s a dream; it’s just a dream. You pinch yourself to try to force yourself awake. It only hurts. Taking a few deep breaths, you plop yourself down on an oversized plush chair and hope that something will come along and peacefully transport you back to Earth. It’s terrifyingly silent in the large room. Not a single sound can be heard besides your own breathing. It’s still icy cold too. Whatever life form that man is, he has to come from somewhere cold if they keep it like this. Just as you’re about to get lost in thought, the door opens with a soft hiss noise and a much more muscular-built humanoid walks through. He seems more human than the one you had previously encountered. He has stark black hair and the most piercing blue eyes you’ve ever seen. 

“Who are you?” it’s not a question. It’s a command.

“Captain of this ship,” you quip sarcastically, “who do I look like?”

“I’m the captain here, little human. I’ll ask again; who are you?”

You quickly tell him your name and nothing more. He’s clearly studying you silently. You squirm under his gaze and hope he’s not planning to do something horrific to you. 

“Come with me.” he says stoically, already walking away, expecting you to follow.

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself, at least? Or send me back home without another step in between? That pink-haired one said something about someone called Wooyoung pressing a button, and that’s why I’m here! Can’t you just-

The dark-haired alien spins around quickly, and you can see the anger swirling in his eyes. Before you can think, he has you pinned against the wall with a tentacle. You suddenly have nothing to say. A smirk grows on his lips before releasing you from his grip. The tentacle that had been holding you in your place returns to its place tucked beneath his pant leg. He doesn’t say a word. He continues walking down the corridor toward a rather lavish-looking door. The moment he approaches the door, it instantly opens but makes a strange noise as if to alert him that he’s not alone at the doorway. He says something in a foreign language, and the noise ceases. 

“Have a seat.” he gestures toward a cushion nearby what you’d assume to be a bed.

Cautiously you approach the plush seat and sit. All while you keep your eyes trained on the mysterious, blue-eyed alien. You watch as his gaze drops to your chest, then almost instantly is brought back to your face. He likely isn’t trying to be rude. He is just trying to figure you out. 

“I’m Jongho, by the way,” he tells you, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Very human names you have around here.” you tease, leaning back on your palms.

“We adapt to whatever names are suitable for the species we’re around. Hence why you heard Seonghwa call the other alien, Wooyoung, earlier, those aren’t our names from our home planet, but it’s what’s easiest for you to comprehend.”

“Mmm,” you hum in acknowledgment, “and I can assume this is your room?”

“The captain’s chambers, yeah.”

You watch his gaze drop to your chest again and linger momentarily before trying to engage in normal conversation again. It almost seems like he’s trying to distract you from something. Maybe even distract you from your wish to go back home. You can tell that he’s distracted by something too.

“Our research says that only happens when you want to mate,” he says abruptly.

“W-what?” you’re thrown off by his comment, “What are you talking about?”

He doesn’t say anything. He walks right up to you and reaches his arm out toward you. You’re about to question him again and smack his hand away. That is until his outreached hand finds its target. Jongho tweaks your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making you yelp out a moan. He smirks down at you as if he’s expecting your reaction.

“See,” he says almost flatly, “a noise you humans associate with mating.”

“My nipples are hard ‘cause it’s fucking freezing on this ship! You didn’t have to go and pinch it!”

“Is that not because you want to mate?” he muses teasingly, “I could show you how we do it here. You didn’t seem frightened by my tentacles.”

A part of you is being logical; you should immediately say no and tell him to send you home. The far more prominent part of your thoughts is screaming at you, saying this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity you must take. It takes you two seconds to debate it before you reach out to the alien. His eyes stay trained on you. You’re not entirely sure where the electric blue tentacle comes from, but you can barely see the bottom of his jacket lifting up due to it. The tendril wraps around your thigh.

“Show me how you do it up here.” You say in a sultry tone, “You seem like you need to destress a bit.”

Jongho doesn’t respond. Another one of his tentacles wraps around your other thigh and a third wraps around your waist. You’re lifted by the appendages as if you weigh nothing. Some golden speckles are swirling in Jongho’s eyes as he gets you pinned against one of his bedroom walls. He takes his hand and snakes it up your shirt to cup your bare breast below it. Your eyebrows furrow in desperation for him to move quicker. And as if he can read your mind, he forces your shirt over your head, leaving you in only your panties. They aren’t serving much purpose due to how soaked you are already. 

“Do you want me to hold you up here, or shall I lay you down on the bed?” he questions, his voice much more gravely than it was before.

“H-hold me up here,” you respond, already breathless.

“Very well, little human.” he chuckles airly, “just a forewarning,” he pauses to lower you against his hard, clothed member, “this isn’t like what you’re used to. We have ‘tentacles,’ as you call them, here too. You still fine with this?”

“Jongho,” you whine, attempting to grind yourself against him, “you have no fucking idea how fine I am with all of this.”

With that, he steals your lips in a heated kiss as his fingers pull your panties to the side. He smirks against your lips feeling how wet you already are. Your breath hitches as his fingers glide through your folds. You think you may go insane if he doesn’t rail you into another dimension right now. His fingers push into you slowly. He sets a rough pace when he sees that you’re comfortable with the intrusion. The wet sounds that are being created by how wet you are combined with his rough pace only serve to make you both needier.”

“Jongho,” you moan, “fuck me, please.”

His tentacles tighten around you as the words hit his ears, “Now? What if I wanted to play with you a bit more?” still keeping his fingers at a brutal pace.

“I’ll go insane if you don’t fuck me right now.” you sigh erotically.

Jongho chuckles and pulls his fingers from you. A string of arousal connects his fingers to your pussy for a few moments before breaking. The golden specks in his eyes seem to multiply and swirl more aggressively through the blue they typically are. His hands tease along the waist of his pants for a moment before shoving them down along with his boxers. Your eyes trail down his body, watching how his skin transitions from his beautiful tan skin into the same electric blue that his other tentacles are colored. Your eyes stay fixated on the tentacle fixated between his legs. It’s hard, just like a human cock would be, but something about the details of it makes you so much more desperate. More desperate than you’ve ever been for any human. It’s also massive compared to anything you’ve seen before. There are little bubbles along the entire shaft that you know will feel like heaven inside you, and the top tapers off into a gentle tip. His base is thicker than what many people would deem doable. You’re willing to take that challenge, though. Again, you feel the tentacles holding you up tighten. They press into your skin so much that your muscles slightly bulge around the constricted area. He presses his body against yours, grinding himself against you. His lips find purchase on your neck right against your pulse.

“You ready for me?” he asks, causing goosebumps to rise where his breath hits you.

“I’ve been ready,” you respond with a slight giggle.

Your giggle gets quickly cut off as he pushes into you in one fell swoop. He stays still for a few moments as you let a string of garbled noises out. It feels so good. You’re so incredibly full of him that you swear he’s in your stomach. He gives an experimental thrust, and you immediately shutter due to the pleasure you already feel. The tentacle wrapped around your waist shifts up toward your chest, the tip teasing at your nipple. Jongho takes the other between his fingers, causing you to squirm (to the best of your ability) in his hold. His free hand takes one of your wrists and guides your hand to lay over your stomach.

“You feel that? I’m so fucking deep inside you that I’m bulging from your belly. Told ya, we do things different up here, little human.”

“J-jongho, please!” you all but shout.

“What, little human? Already coming close to your peak?” he teases.

It’s pathetic, but you are. The texture on his cock combined with his sheer size has you seeing stars that weren’t in the sky just outside the spacecraft. Jongho thrusts into you like an animal, keeping his hand on top of yours against the bulge in your belly. He grunts out things in some sort of alien language, and you can tell that, though he’s teasing you for being close, he is too. His hand, previously occupied by your chest, moves into your hair before pulling your lips against his. The kiss steals all your breath away, and mere moments later, your orgasm overtakes your body. Your free arm flies around his shoulder, holding him as close as you can as you shudder and quiver in the grips of his tentacles.

“I’m gonna breed you full. Fuck.” he practically growls against your lips.

Within seconds you feel something flood your pussy. Jongho stays inside you, grunting something in that same alien language again. His tentacles loosen slightly but still hold you strong against the wall. He pulls your hand off your belly and lets you wrap it around his other shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist, and his tentacles fully let go of you and disappear back into his spine. Jongho is still fully inside you, but now he’s also holding you close against his body. He carries you over to the bed finally and lays you down. Slowly, he pulls out of you, and you see the jelly-like substance coating his member. It’s a pretty light green color. It almost glitters as you take in its appearance more. Jongho looks at you with a gentle kind of look. Though, it has some sort of bittersweet, almost questioning undertone to it.

“You humans can’t absorb semen of any kind, right?”

“No,” you chuckle breathlessly still, “whatever species you are, you have some pretty cum, though.”

“I better clean you up then…”

More words linger on his tongue, but he doesn’t voice them. He diligently cleans you up and checks with every second that you’re truly okay. It’s tender, intimate. Not many people have this level of care during aftercare, but he does, and you appreciate it to no end. After he finishes cleaning up, he climbs onto the bed with you and starts drawing random patterns on your collarbone with his fingertip.

“So, are you sure you want to go back home?”

“Hmm?” you hum, half asleep already.

“Are you sure you want to go back home? I know Wooyoung beaming you up here might not have been entirely an accident, but would you be opposed to staying here with me?”

You lift your head and look at him. Your eyes shine like stars as you look at him. Part of you knows that you should go home. You have a life there. But you also know deep down you weren’t happy there. You could find a new life here on this ship with him.

“You see, Wooyoung knew you were my type. He’s a little shithead sometimes, but he knows me well.” he shifts to hold you tighter against his body, “I confided in him recently. I told him how I wanted young of my own, but I’d never want to abandon the ship. Would you be willing to stay here with me? Mother my young?”

“Jongho-”

“You aren’t being pressured to. If you want to go home, just say the word, and I’ll have Seonghwa beam you right back to where you were.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, “I was going to say yes, dummy”

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris @almondmilkeu @shinestarhwaa

#jongho smut #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #arousal august #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #jongho fanfic #jongho x reader

[theemporium]

Dear CeCe

I have a request it’s something along the lines of

"You brought me breakfast?" "Well you said you always forget to eat before you go to work, so I thought I'd make sure you ate something."

Where the reader (much like myself because of my adhd) forgets to eat breakfast so the driver (preferably Carlos because that man can cook and I believe it’s one of his favorite things to do when not racing) brings them breakfast so they can eat.

(Ps can it be an plus sized!reader)

Thank you ❤️💙

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

When you had made the comment with the Spaniard present, you didn’t think it would amount to anything.

It had been during a rainy stint between free practice sessions. The rain was still going heavy and the track was too wet to even attempt a few laps, so most of the teams had been huddled in the garages as they waited for the weather to ease. 

You had been on Carlos’ side of the garage, along with some other Ferrari workers that were on the social media team. Originally, you were planning to use the extra time to get some shots of both drivers for the Instagram page, only to find yourself seated with both drivers and some others from the engineering team as you discussed random topics of conversation. 

The topic of the drivers’ insane meal and dietary requirements came up, along with superstitions and favourite meals on race day when you had made the passive comment.

“I don’t think I could be a driver. I forget to eat breakfast half the time, let alone remember which foods I can and can’t eat. It would be a mess!”

The comment had stuck with Carlos, and not in a good way. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the idea that you were skipping out on meals. He had noticed a handful of times you’d forget to eat whilst you were at the paddock because you were too immersed in your work. But the fact it went beyond that? That you were forgetting meals outside of work?

He didn’t like it one bit.

You had been in the Ferrari motorhome the first time it happened. You had been sitting at one of the tables, your laptop sat in front of you and your eyes focused on the screen as you worked on editing some photos that were supposed to be going up that afternoon.

You didn’t even notice the Spanish driver leaving the catering kitchens, let alone making his way towards you until the chair he pulled up beside you was scraping against the floor, the screeches hard to ignore. 

You smiled when you noticed him, opening your mouth to greet him, only to freeze when he placed a plate in front of you.

You blinked. “What is this?” 

“Breakfast,” he said simply with a smile as he took the seat next to you, placing his own plate in front of him. 

“You got me breakfast?” you questioned, unsure why the action made your stomach flutter. Maybe it was the hunger you didn’t even realise you felt, or maybe it was the handsome man beside you.

“I made you breakfast,” he corrected before pausing. “Do you not like it? I can make you something else—”

“No!” you said suddenly, flushing a little at how loud and abrupt you were before clearing your throat. “No, I…thank you, Carlos.” 

“No problem, amor.” 

But what you assumed was a one time thing started to happen every day you were at the paddock. On race weekends, Carlos would always have a plate ready for you when you arrived, from Thursday straight through to Sunday. And on the weeks where there was no race, you found yourself exchanging numbers with the Spanish driver, only to find yourself receiving constant reminders from the boy.

smooth operator: remember to eat something today xx

smooth operator: did you drink enough water today, amor? xx 

smooth operator: remember to eat dinner before midnight please 

It sent a flutter of butterflies down to your stomach every time he texted. It made your heart thrum whenever he called. And you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were falling for the Spanish driver. Despite knowing his actions were probably just a show of friendship, it didn’t change the way you felt for him.

And you were happy to keep your feelings reserved to yourself until Charles had made a comment one race weekend.

“Carlos, your girlfriend is here!” The other Ferrari driver called out through the garage in a sing-song voice.

Your cheeks flushed. “Oh no, I—we are just friends.” 

Charles looked sceptical. “Friends, huh?”

You frowned a little at his tone of voice. “Yes?” 

Charles laughed, shaking his head. “I knew Carlos’ whole ‘food is the way to a woman’s heart’ was a load of bullshit!”

“Ay, no it’s not!” Carlos scoffed as he made his way over, smacking his teammate on the back of his head before he turned to you, a smile on his face. “Ah, mi amor.” 

“Hey,” you murmured with a shy smile before you raised the bag in your hand, the rustle catching both boys’ attention. “I, uh, thought it was time for me to repay the favour. It’s not as good as your cooking but—”

“It’s perfect,” he insisted, not even caring what was inside the bag. 

“What a nice friendly gesture,” Charles piped up with a grin plastered across his face.

Your face heated up and Carlos frowned a little.

“You think we are just friends?” Carlos asked, his head turning to look at you.

You blinked. “We aren’t?”

“Is my flirting really that bad?” 

Your lips parted slightly. “You were flirting?”

“Oh, this is brilliant,” Charles snorted.

“Mi amor, I don’t just make meals for any girl,” Carlos said with a sheepish expression on his face. 

“Oh,” you murmured. 

Carlos raised his brows. “Oh?”

“I didn’t think you felt the same about me,” you admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, you’d be wrong,” he teased, something darker and more tempting shining in his eyes. “Think I can convince you to agree to dinner then?” 

“Will you be cooking for me, Mr Sainz?” you asked.

“It’s just one of many things I’ll be doing for you, amor,” Carlos said, his darkened gaze meeting yours.

“Then I’d be a fool to say no.” 

“This is horrible to witness, by the way,” Charles piped up once again. “I’m glad you two admitted your feelings but really, get a room, please.”

.

#carlos sainz #formula one #f1 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[ravencincaide]

Shhh -oh shit

Summary: You were not the kindest when someone disturbed you; especially when studying for finals. Or the time you shushed a talking bastard in the library's quiet section, not realizing who said ‘bastard’ was. 

Pairing: Student!reader x Chuuya Nakahara. 

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 29: Texting/email 

Warnings: Cursing, random Chuuya fluff, minimal edits

Enjoy this little bit of sweetness~ 

Shh

You couldn’t understand how ignorant one had to be in order to speak on the phone in the library. How completely self absorbed to dare do it in the quiet section. Especially amidst final weeks- when it was crawling full of crying and desperate students who queued from the library's opening to the very last second before its closing. Studying reference literature, begging librarians to expedite archive requests just a little bit faster. Buying seniors notes and pleading for tutoring sessions.

“ If this is another goddamn attempt at wasting my time with your bloody stupidity….” the male voice carried loudly, cutting through the otherwise silent section of the library but for the gentle tipp-tapp of keyboard keys or barely hearable flickering of pages. In contrast to those monotone sounds, his voice boomed like thunder, completely breaking your concentration. With each syllable past his lips you could feel your understanding slipping away. 

Why no one said anything was beyond you. 

It was so bluntly obvious that this man was disturbing everyone in the surrounding area. Yet either he was oblivious enough not to see it, or self centered enough not to care. Neither of which sat well with you. As if to make matters worse, his voice grew louder and louder as he drew nearer, now it was not only the phone conversation that was disturbing you, but also the stomps of his feet against the carpet clad floor. “I’ll have you die.. I–” 

“ Shh!” you snapped, making a low, angry hiss towards the owner of the voice somewhere in the distance behind you. You saw the head of a student opposite you snap up and give you a quick, earnest grateful smile. However, that smile quickly faded as the student paled a sickly shade of white before he quickly snapped his head back down, staring at the study books in front of him. His reaction puzzled you, but the blessed silence made you ignore that fact in favour of your studies. 

However the peaceful silence did not last long. 

“ Goddamn it! I swear I’m going to kill you myself this time, you good for nothing, perverted, enemy of all—” 

Slamming your fist into the table you finally lost your patience, your voice, the ‘shh’ resonating through the area. An angry echo which bounced off the walls and furniture throughout the entire second floor of the library’s silent section; “Its a goddamn library so for crying out loud, can you shut the fuck— oh shit” you cut yourself off as your eyes landed on the man with the phone pressed to his ear. 

It was him; it couldn’t be- shouldn’t be, and yet it was. 

You would recognize that ginger hair and black coat anywhere. The piercing eyes which searched the sea of students before they landed onto you, and stared you down mockingly. The cocky grin which matched the handsome boyish expression. And that top hat, the most memorable goddamn top hat in the entire Yokohama. You had seen that hat, and the man it belonged to, in wanted posters and news segments all over Yokohama city. 

The long and loud media warnings to never engage or provoke him. The most dangerous and bloodthirsty member of Port Mafia; Nakahara Chuuya. 

And you had not only encountered him in the most mundane place in the entire city; but also shushed him; not once, not twice but an entire three times. That is without the curse-filled scolding you unknowingly send his way for his less than adequate library manners. In other words you were a deadman walking; a soon to be corpse which currently filled the barely-comfortable study spot. Judging by the annoyance edged onto his features, it was time for you to say your goodbyes and start digging your grave. Then again, your mind reminded you all too bitterly, if you failed the upcoming exams the humiliation, loss of income and homelessness you’d face, would make you wish you were dead. 

Instead of feigning ignorance or getting up and apologizing on your hands and knees, you stared back into his face with a scowl that matched his own. It was as if you challenged him to say something. Chuuya responded with a raised eyebrow. In that instant, your mind flickered between the ‘you’re gonna be brutally murdered or worse’ and ‘ holy hell the media did not do those gorgeous blue orbs justice.’ A part of you still couldn’t grasp the fact that you were actually seeing those eyes in real life. 

You were so, so fucked. 

That sentiment was reinforced as you saw the frown on his lips turn up into something almost morbid. Chuuya’s eyes ran up and down before he rolled his eyes as the voice in the phone demanded his attention, growing so loud you could almost distinguish what it was saying from such a distance; “ I’ll get back to you, slimeball” Chuuya stated midway through slamming the phone shut and slipping it into his pants pocket.

Then he advanced towards you.

You swallowed thickly, and fixed the ginger with an even firmer stare. Then you summoned what little bravery- or insanity- you had left in you; “ Listen with all due respect Nakahara-san your future is set for life; glory, terror and all that. While us pitiful students have our lives decided by the horrors of exams which are primarily out of our control so I kindly beg you, for the love of god and anything unholy; please be quiet.” 

Chuuya stopped in front of you; an unreadable expression on his face half shaded by the tophat.You swore he looked less menacing and more entertained than moments earlier- or was it your wishful thinking? No, there definitely was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of them; “ Whatever, fork over your phone” 

“My phone?” you asked in bewildered as you stared up at the man currently towering over you. 

At another glare, you quickly unlocked and surrendered the device to him. You watched him type something in before handing it back to you. Looking down at it, you noticed there was a new contact added in your list, listed under the simple initials NC. You glanced back up at him in question. 

The angry look was replaced by a boyish grin. To you it looked almost.. Flirty?!

 Chuuya pointed towards your phone with a gloved finger; “ I wanna know what kind of exams are scarier than a Mafia executive. Text this number when you’re done.”

Your eyes widened a little before you shook your head slightly. Your brain not able to comprehend what he was saying, your mind blanking out long enough for your mouth to speak before you had time to think; “ If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were hitting on me” you mumbled in disbelief earning yourself another cocky smirk. He really was?! 

 “ Nakahara-san I don’t think it’s–” 

“Shhh”  you heard another student hiss at you making you instantly grow silent. Before biting your lips in a feeble attempt to keep your expression neutral. You failed; the edges of your lips pulled up into a smile, barely containing the bubbly laughter readying to spill past your lips. Your expression remained  bewildered and a little shocked, while his expression remained cocky almost sweet yet so very confident. 

Who knew such a meeting could derive from a single word; a hissing of an annoyed student in the middle of the exam season in the libraries quiet section:  

Shh.

Author note: A little sweetness is what we all need some days. I hope this fic made you smile at least a little on this (very cold!) Sunday morning.

Like this? Check out Raven's Masterlist

#chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara #sweetober #chuuya x you #raven cincaide works #library fluff #first meeting

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m)┃ch. IV

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4,174

Warnings: 8-year age gap, professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), jungkook snaps, lots of family drama, mommy issues, oc being accommodating, fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues but trying to be good hubby, jk gives oc more hope!

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: this week's flashback hint–nothing like a little dilf rivalry! Also, this chapter gives more of a reason why jk is adverse to parenthood 😶 My closing notes offer some explanations. Let's go! 💞

<< ch. III ༓ ch. V >> | series masterlist

For the first 22 years of your life, you had zero partners.

Most people labeled you as being jaded, stuck up, or having too high of standards for it. But fuck it. Why couldn’t anyone accept that you weren’t about to settle down with the first interested guy just 'cause of peer pressure?

Of course, you'd likely end up with someone eventually. You have gone out on a couple of dates before. Yet they were never that promising. The men, or excuse you, boys roughly your age did nothing to woo you. They just wanted a late-night fuck at 1 a.m. or a nice, cute girl to take home to their mom.

Not that you gave a hell what others were into or anything, but you had other agendas. Getting married and birthing children before kick-starting your adult life was not in your playbook. Neither was jumping into bed with random guys every week.

So you haven't had much luck in the romance department. Good riddance to it!

What you were waiting for was a gentleman. Someone that was responsible, mature, and experienced. Bonus points if they were into the arts. But it was rare to find a suitor of such quality–who wasn't ridiculously off-limits that is. Obviously, some other strong-willed man or woman sunk their claws in before you got the chance. Drats.

4 years ago

“I can’t believe you,” your best friend giggles. “You’re going to that fancy new art exhibit downtown just to run into Dr. Kim! You’re so shameless __.”

You roll your eyes and stick your plate in the dishwasher. You’re best friend Na-Rae has been one of your closest friends since your second year of undergrad. Now into your third year of friendship, you consider her as close as a sister.

Unlike you, Na-Rae is utterly fascinated with all things STEM-related. She’s currently in med school aiming to become a surgeon, which is one of the many reasons why you and her are currently roommates.

“I’m telling you one more time, I’m not going for him. I actually want to see the paintings which should come as no surprise to you. Dr. Kim just happens to be going too.”

Na-Rae leans against the kitchen island, tongue in cheek. “If that’s what you wanna tell yourself, babe. But how, may I ask, did you know he’d be there? Are you stalking him online now?”

“Of course not. I’m not a creep Na-Rae.” You throw her a dirty look. Honestly, she really thinks you’re some obsessed fangirl. Like yes, Dr. Kim is really hot for an older guy, and the fact that he’s basically the second dean of the art department? He may or may not visit you in your dreams. Especially after studying for Dr. Jeon’s fifteen million econ exams.

Now there’s a guy who definitely knows how to stick it to you.

“Besides,” you continue. “Dr. Kim doesn’t have social media.” You don’t notice how contradictory that statement sounds until your best friend lets out a sinister cackle.

“Looked him up did you?” She hits your arm, wiggling her eyebrows tauntingly. “I knew it! I knew you were stalking him!”

“I–I am not! Stop that!” You ignore her looks, seeing it best to avoid eye contact altogether.

"Iovmererdhimalkingintheallway."

"C'mon, you know I can't understand that. You did what?"

"I over…heardhimalkingintheallway," you repeat, skirting most of the sentence again.

"For the love of might __! Why are you being so–"

"I overheard him talking in the hallway!" Once you blurt the words out you scurry out of the kitchen. "Gotta get my laundry, bye!"

"Uh-__!" Na-Rae races to catch up to you. "Explain to me how that's not being stalkerish!"

You grab your laundry basket and set it next to the dryer. "It wasn't intentional alright? I happened to be passing by at the right moment." You pop the door open, stuffing your clothes in the basket. Na-Rae casually watches you from the doorway.

"Right," she says. "Just happened to overhear Dr. Kim's whereabouts on a Friday night and just happen to be going to the same place. But definitely not planned because the dress you're currently trying to hide from me isn't meant for him to coincidentally see. Oops, my bad."

You release said dress from your hand aggressively. "Dr. Kim is at least a decade older than me and he's a high-level faculty member of the university. I'm not seriously trying to present myself to him in any romantic sense. That would be so inappropriate! And as far as the dress goes, it's the grand opening tonight. Everyone's wearing these kinds of things. So no, you're wrong."

"Very well, if the lady persists," Na-Rae shrugs, checking her phone. "Shoot, I gotta get to work in fifteen but I expect a full report later!" You watch as she hustles to her room.

.

The exhibit's doors open at 7 pm sharp. The line to the entrance runs about three blocks which is far longer than you were expecting. Most people came in groups or pairs, making you wish Na-Rae didn't have to work tonight.

But you're right about this being a formal affair. Everyone is dressed to kill. Some lean more towards black tie while others choose to show off their highly expressive, avant-garde nature.

You look down at yourself, suddenly feeling quite underdressed. You're wearing a simple black dress that's cinched at the waist. If one were to look close enough they'd see hints of gold throughout but no one would get that close.

The artwork itself is stunning. Varying from abstraction to impressionism, you get a sense of pleasure in taking in others’ inspiration. Many of these works are from locals in the area which is one of the main reasons for the number of interested guests. You wonder if anyone here knows the artists directly.

You make your way to the next set of pieces, studying the first in line. You immediately recognize the particular style as post-impressionism. It's clear the artist has great influence by Van Gogh evident from the similar large yet controlled strokes.

As you continue observing the work you feel a second body, looming close beside you. Naturally, you shift your eyes over to see the source. His hair brushes past his face as he leans closer to the painting.

After about three seconds you quickly dart your eyes away, careful not to stare. The man appears to be equally as focused on the work in front of him, as you were. It'd be a bit embarrassing if he noticed your gaze and snapped at you for it.

The man next to you slowly straightens his bent-over posture. He moves to the other side of you, viewing the next painting on your right. You barely catch the slight glance he gives you in the process, now able to see his full face.

It's not Dr. Kim–it's Dr. Jeon.

This isn't weird, you try convincing yourself. It's perfectly normal for you to see your professor in public. Besides, who knows if he actually recognized you yet. No need to make this awkward if you simply pretend not to notice him.

You think about whether to sneakily slip away or continue to feign ignorance until…

"Are we going to keep side-eyeing each other or can I say hi?" Dr. Jeon lightly smiles at you with playful eyes. His glasses are different today–thinner design. And oh, is that a...lip ring? Is that new or has he always had it? You don't remember seeing it before. "If you keep staring at my lips like that I might get shy."

"Ahha, Dr. Jeon!" You fight the stirring of your nerves. "Hi! Sorry, I didn't mean to stare or anything. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Please, __. Outside of class, Jungkook is fine. Though I understand if that's a little out of place for you."

A little?! You've been calling Dr. Jeon, well, Dr. Jeon for the past two weeks. It's unlikely that will change. "If it's alright with you," you start, hands restless. "I'd like to stick with the usual."

Jungkook nods, giving you a brief once-over before replying. "Sure, no problem. I'm hoping you'll warm up to the idea though. Dr. Jeon makes me feel old." He lets out a throaty chuckle. "I'd ask what brings you to this art exhibit but I think I have the answer, given the amount of sketches I see you doing while I'm lecturing."

Oh god. Your professor calling you out for both gawking at his lips and doodling in class under the span of five minutes? You've never wanted to disappear more. The sketches you do aren't meant to look like a distraction and honestly, you didn't mean to gawk at the tiny ring, it was just there!

"Sorry," he continues. "That wasn't intended to be passive-aggressive. I really don't mind as long as they don't hinder your learning. Dr. Kim does the same thing whenever I'm talking to him too. I've summed it up to an itch all you artists have. I've come here in support of him actually." He gestures to the collection of paintings next to you; the post-impressionism ones you were intent on studying earlier.

"Oh wow," you gasp stupidly, following his gesture. You didn't even clue in to read the artist's name.

Stigma by Kim Taehyung.

"I had no idea Dr. Kim had some of his work displayed here. I feel so foolish. I was viewing his pieces for I don't know how long just a few minutes ago."

You were sure Dr. Kim was attending the exhibit for the same reasons as you. But while it was partially right, you obviously missed the biggest point.

"Don't fret," a deep, honey-coated voice comes from nowhere. "Any admirer of my work is a friend of mine." He strolls up to your left, Jungkook still on your right. "I don't believe we've met yet. Dr. Kim Taehyung." He tosses a hand out for you to shake.

Oh no, no no no. You hope to death you won't start sweating. You've never been this close to Kim Taehyung before and he wants you to hold his hand! "Pleasure to meet you Dr. Kim. I'm __," you say, struggling not to burst inside.

Okay, so it's not exactly holding hands but it's close enough. His fingers are so long and elegant. You can't wipe the grin off your face.

You're squeezing it now, stop stop stop. You mentally slap yourself and retract your hand as naturally as you can. Thank fuck no one can read your mind.

"I'm sorry your name is __?" Dr. Kim freezes as if suddenly needing to remember something. When you think he's recalled whatever it is he needs, he flicks his head over to Jungkook with a twinkle in his eye. "__," he repeats aloud.

"Uhm, yes..." You're definitely missing something. You look between the two men, apparently both intent on keeping you in omnious silence. What's so facinating about your name?

Taehyung whips his head back to face you, flashing a blinding grin. "You're the little artist in Jungkook's class aren't you?"

That's what this is about? He looks far too proud of himself for connecting those dots.

"Yeah I take ECON 602 with Dr. Jeon." You make the mistake of looking at Jungkook mid-sentence. For some odd reason, his previous mirthful expression has changed to one of bitter distaste.

"She isn't little," Jungkook intrudes, nearly snapping at the older man. "Little is what you call a child and it's inappropriate for you to call her that."

What the hell....? How is Dr. Kim calling you little bothering your professor more than you?

"My apologies," Taehyung says. "But she's your student, right? The one drawing during your lectures? I think she drew you once. Exquisite may I add. You captured his pissed-off look so well." He gives you a pleased look but you're too sheepish to form a reply.

"Yes, I wasn't having the best day. Can I talk to you a moment Dr. Kim? We'll be right back __, just a second." Jungkook grabs the older's arm, yanking him out of your earshot.

"What the hell are you doing, Taehyung?" Jungkook spits. "You're making my student uncomfortable."

"Aha, so she is the artist. Look I admit that using the term little was a misstep but I think she's alright. I apologized didn't I?"

"Yeah sure, but she's not alright." He makes air quotes. "Since you've also made it seem like anything she does in my class, I spill to you! Don't you see how uneasy that would make someone feel? Especially me being her professor. She could be thinking I tell you weird things too! See what you've done?!"

"But Jungkook," Taehyung drawls, face scrunching. He's not sure what's gotten Jungkook so worked up. "You do in fact regurgitate everything to me. You've been talking about her for the last week just to one-up me that she's an artist. Now I get to have a face to the name. I'm kinda tickled about it but also, what weird things are you referring to?" Taehyung pauses, eyes going as big as a saucer. "Oh my god, bro. Are you–"

Jungkook grunts firmly, shutting the man up at once. "Absolutely not Tae. Whatever you were about to say, it couldn't be a bigger no. All I'm asking is for you to keep the private things private. I don't want you blubbering everything to her."

"Very well," Taehyung hums, stealing a glance at you behind Jungkook's shoulder. From where he stood, he had an easy view of you moving down the line of paintings. You stop in front of each one, curiously examining them the best you can. "However, she's quite intriguing. I can't make any promises that I'll hold myself back."

"You better be talking about her mutual interest in art. She's my student and we have an obligation through the university not to fraternize with any–"

"Yes yes, your student. I don't need a reminder of where my boundaries are, but perhaps you do....bringing up fraternizing and all." Taehyung moves past Jungkook, striding back over to you. "Whatever else can there be besides professional or academic affairs? Of course, we're keeping our witts about us Kookie."

Behind him, Jungkook huffs and follows his lead. Then wipe that stupid smirk off your face, he thinks.

Present

Dinner is rough.

Jungkook's parents showing up unannounced and uninvited throws you both in a very quick, downward spiral. How can two people have so much time on their hands? Retirement, that's how.

You try your hardest to keep the conversation light throughout dinner, but it's obvious the air has grown thick between your husband and his mother.

"Why didn't you come to the reunion last year?" your mother-in-law presses for the second time tonight. She clutches the napkin in her hand, anxious for his response.

Jungkook sits across the table. His posture stiffens at the question. "I'm sorry, I had a lot to do. The reunion is always so close to when I have to go back to the university that I just didn't have the time."

A loud, impatient sigh comes from back across the table. "You didn't have the time or didn't make it? Honesty Jungkook, you expect me to believe that?"

When Jungkook doesn't answer, you and your father-in-law exchange troublesome looks. "Honey," Mr. Jeon speaks up, placing a hand on her shaky one. "You know how full the school year is for Jungkook. Don't blame him. Maybe he can come this year if we reschedule for a more convenient time." He pleads with his son, hopeful eyes.

"Stop helping him." She looks at Mr. Jeon and then back to Jungkook. "I don't think I'm asking for a lot. I just want you there, you and __."

At that, you find yourself gripping your husband's arm from under the table. Jungkook shifts in his seat and stares dead straight into his mother's eyes. "Funny you say that," he seethes. You tug on his arm in desperation to calm him. "Seeing that you keep dropping by at random times throughout the year, I'd say you expect a great deal from us."

Mrs. Jeon immediately snatches her hand from your father-in-law's. "Maybe I wouldn't have to if you'd come to the reunion. Or called, texted, or even emailed at this point. If it weren't for my efforts, I wouldn't hear from you at all."

"Please," Mr. Jeon pleads again, this time to both parties. "We're having dinner. Let's continue this later." He reaches for the bowl in the middle of the table but he's quickly ignored.

"You're right." Jungkook cuts. "Maybe I should come. Because it's one more way you can get what you want, isn't it? All those years of hard work so you can show me off to everyone."

"Don't you talk to me like that," Mrs. Jeon grits. "If I wanted to show you off it'll be when you give me a grandchild! I'm lucky to even have a daughter-in-law by now."

Chair legs scrape against the hardwood floor and your arm snakes out from Jungkook's arm. Your husband stands at the table, Mr. Jeon follows suit. "Okay, okay, let's just–"

"Dad," Jungkook interrupts. "Can you please take Mom home for the night?"

"Are you okay?" you pop the question once your in-laws leave for the night, a queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Mrs. Jeon looked completely bewildered, whereas Mr. Jeon looked deeply troubled; conflicted between wife and son. You have a feeling he has a better understanding of what happened than you do right now.

"I wish she hadn't come today," Jungkook plops on the bed. You sit beside him. "I'm sorry about what she said about you....I knew she was here for something."

You won't lie. When Mrs. Jeon mentioned being lucky to finally have a daughter-in-law, it stung. You detest being seen as an achievement. "I'm sure she didn't mean it like that since she said it out of impulse. It was a tense moment," you say. "As far as what she was getting at though, it was for you to go to the reunion."

"No." He shakes his head and then glances at you. "It's not about the reunion. She only wants me to go so she can show everyone how smart and successful her son has become–all her doing of course. It's been like that since high school. And she wants you to go for a similar reason."

"I knew your mom had a bit of a thing for status but I thought that mostly revolved around her profession. Also, when she was talking earlier about you not keeping in touch she seemed more hurt and sad than mad. I think she really just wants you there."

"If she seemed hurt it's because she didn't get her way," Jungkook says, nonchalant.

"Jungkook."

"I'm sorry but it's true" He adjusts his position, angling himself to face you. "Mom's used to calling the shots– at work, at home, even with our neighbors growing up. You've seen how dad is around her. Yeah, he pushes back a little but at the end of the day, he does what's asked of him."

Frightened to ask the next question, you swallow hard. "What aren't you telling me Jungkook?"

He gently takes your hand from your lap, rubbing small circles on the knuckles. "Growing up, she was hardly around or involved in my brother and I's life. Most weeks, she and Dad would be at work, and we'd be with a babysitter or nanny. Dad did what he could to take care of us but Mom? All she would do is prune us to be just like her...smart, successful, and a dash more to make up for all the achievements she couldn't make."

"Jungkook...I don't know what to say," you murmur, trying to take everything in. "But your PhD–"

"My decision but her influence. Though she wasn't pleased when I said I'd be relocating ten hours away."

You remember him telling you this part before. His mother had a hard time coping with his reluctance to stay nearby. Maybe she did want him to follow in her footsteps. "Your brother didn't have as much pressure on him did he?"

"He did, but he still bends to her will. Except for the grandchildren part." Jungkook grimaces, averting eye contact. "I guess we have that in common."

"Hey," you urge him to lift his head. "Please don't feel bad about telling me any of this. If your picture of parents has largely been their absence and desire for self-fulfillment, then I understand your grounds for not wanting children. And as far as tonight with your mom, I'm so sorry. I feel like it's partially my fault for agreeing to host them for two days."

A pair of soft eyes rest on you in the dim room. The sun was near set now and all the light previously shining into the room had come from the window. If this wasn't a serious moment you might take a candid shot of your husband.

"You're the best thing that's happened to me __," Jungkook coos. "Don't ever think your kindness is a fault." He pauses then continues. "I still want both my parents in my life but I need to draw boundaries or I will completely snap and that's not something I want to happen. Especially since we have a possible baby to make one day."

"Hu–huh?" It's the repetition of the last sentence that makes you utterly dumbfounded.

Baby? Baby with Jungkook. One day?

Your husband draws his hand up to barely caress your cheek. "Why does that always seem to stop your heart?"

You catch his wrist mid-movement and throw yourself into him. Your arms link around his neck, chest flat against his. "It doesn't stop my heart," you say, playing with his hair. "It makes it beat faster."

"Wow." Your husband hugs you closer. "So cheesy." He leans back after, pressing a soft kiss to yours.

The two of you continue making out like teenagers again; Jungkook tumbling on his back.

"Kook." You lay on top of him, straddling his sides. "Have you ever thought about seriously talking to your mom about you know, everything you told me?"

Jungkook hums, before answering. "Somewhat but, I'm not sure how that'll go."

"It might be worth it instead of having little pieces slip out when you get into conflict...like tonight for instance."

"I suppose it's not a far-fetched idea. I'll consider it but it might take some more time. For now, I think I'll start by calling her tomorrow. I'm still mad but I don't wanna leave things the way they are now. Plus, I'm sure they don't have plans to go back home early. I'd hate for them to stay in the hotel the rest of these two days."

"Sounds like a plan," you say, snuggling into the crook of his neck.

"Mom." Jungkook holds the phone to his ear. "What are you and Dad doing today?"

"Oh, I–," his mom stutters from the other end. "We're not up to too much. I think your dad wants to swing by some bookstore around town. Uh, what about you?"

"__ at work and I'm home by myself. Are you hungry? I thought maybe we could go out for brunch."

Jungkook hears his mom's tone lift. "Are you sure? I mean that would be lovely but if there are things you need to do then we don't want to...impose."

Mrs. Jeon's sudden willingness to check in is unexpected. Jungkook still senses traces of guilt but at least she's making somewhat of an effort.

"It's my treat," he assures, a little shaky. "I'm sorry about yesterday, mom. Maybe we can talk about it more in person."

"I think that would be good," she agrees simply. "Where and what time do you want to meet up?"

"Drive over here in twenty minutes. We can pile in my car and head over."

Once finally agreed, Jungkook ends the call. He opens his messages and shoots you a text.

Jungkook: Well I did it  😬 [sent at 10:42 a.m]

__: Proud of you ❤️ if anything happens, call me. [sent at 10:44 a.m]

Jungkook: I will. Also, sorry to bring it up but I gotta give Yoongi hyung an answer by tomorrow. Are we babysitting his twins Saturday? [sent at 10:47 a.m]

__: Ahm, it'll likely be the evening, right? [sent at 10:48 a.m]

Jungkook: Probably [sent at 10:49 a.m]

__: I guess, sure. We're going to need to put some stuff away though 😅 And get something fun for them to do! [sent by 10:51 a.m]

Jungkook: Noted but I'm sure they'll bring lots to do. Yoongi hyung is a big sofie for his girls. He buys them everything–literally 🫠 [sent at 10:52 a.m]

__: True. I have to get back to work now but love you xoxo [sent at 10:53 a.m]

A/N: Surprise! jk has mommy issues and they've has been triggered. Was hoping how he talked, thought, & acted towards her in the last chapter gave hints. On the brighter side, jungkook is another step closer to babyville! And next flashback will be something exciting! Lmk if you wanna be tagged or have thoughts in comments or asks! 💞

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[kiyoomi-levin]

here for you (yan!Suna RinatroxF!reader)

a/n this has been a wip for so long... enjoy! i'm working on a atsumu [nsfw] fic so be on the lookout for that next (unless adhd takes over and i start working on a different one instead)!

summary:: As a pro athlete and model, he's nice enough. And yet...there’s something in your gut that says you should stay away. word count:: ~4.4k warning(s):: non-con (no smut/SFW), suna's a grade A creep/stalker, yandere!!, isolation, stockholm syndrome, horror??(i tried to make this scary but it's really not lol) Music rec:: joke's on you - charlotte lawrence

As an aspiring journalist, your dreams had all but come true when you were hired as an intern at the most prestigious sports media center in Tokyo. 

You get to shake hands with athletes you see on television daily and most importantly, you had received an actual assignment. 

Gone were the days of running around to get your manager coffee and spending the day shredding documents. Instead, you had been tasked with creating an in-depth piece into the most popular athlete of the year— Suna Rintaro of EJP Raijin. 

You still vividly remember your first time meeting him. 

You’d been star-struck— a tall, gorgeous man you had only ever seen through a screen was standing in front of you. 

Smiling. Holding out his beautiful hand for you to shake. 

Despite his casual demeanor, there was something off about him. Maybe it was your nerves, or the cold air circulating in the office, but there was a tug in your stomach that was warning you. 

At the time, you had plastered an excited grin on your face and scolded yourself. 

But looking back— his eyes were quite cold, weren’t they?

You just can’t explain why you feel sick whenever you see him. In fact, despite the great task ahead of you—interviewing and writing up an article on Suna— you had been avoiding him. 

There’s just something in you that dreads looking into his sharp green eyes.

It doesn’t help that in spite of your best efforts, you strangely run into him everywhere-- on and off the court.

“Suna?” 

Your voice comes out squeaky and clearly nervous.

Are your eyes deceiving you? Why would he be here, in the middle of the cereal aisle, at the small grocery store next to your dingy apartment? You have to do a double take before you can confirm that yes, it is in fact him.

It’s late, and it’s only you, Suna, and the tired store manager. Though, at this moment, it feels like it’s only the two of you in this world. 

“Oh. Hey, y/n,” Suna says casually, flashing you his famous smirk— the one that has his fans screaming and crying. He’s on his knees, reading the back of a granola cereal. 

Suna turns back to the aisle in front of him, finally placing a box into his basket. Your brain registers it as your favorite flavor (the unhealthy, chocolate-y type that you’re sure athletes shouldn’t be eating). 

What a coincidence. 

“What are you doing here?” 

You live on the edge of Tokyo, an unfortunate 30 minute subway ride to get to the sports arena you’re working at. And you know, from Suna’s player profile, that he lives in a luxurious high-ceiling apartment only a few blocks away from there. 

“What do you mean?” Suna asks, frowning. He seems genuinely confused. 

Are you the crazy one? 

“Oh, it’s just… so random, you know?” 

Your throat is tightening now and you feel unable to even swallow.

There are alarms blaring inside of your head, as if every fiber is irrationally telling you to run.

Suna glares at you, sharp eyes studying your smaller stature. 

God. Another reason why you don’t like this man— he’s just too difficult to communicate with. 

“You live quite far away, right?” 

Seconds pass and you’re beginning to worry you’ve said something wrong or offensive when Suna finally stands, sighing as he turns toward the registers. 

“No. I just moved to Kamikitazawa.” 

You feel that tingle again. 

“What a coincidence!” You say, recovering quickly.

Fuck. You sound especially stupid right now. 

But could you help it? Suna, a multi-millionaire, moved into your apartment building? The one inhabited by broke college students and poor retirees? 

Was he struggling financially? Did he have a secret child like some rumors alleged? Wait, is he—

“I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but whatever it is, you’re wrong.”

Suna and you are standing at the cash register now, and he turns to gently smile at you. You feel yourself softening. 

Why were you scared, anyways? He’s a world-famous athlete and model. 

Your premonitions have been wrong in the past— like when you thought your boss, Kuroo, would be upset with you accidentally deleting his PC files. 

“I see,” you murmur, “well… the apartment is kind of… there’s a lot of problems, you know?” 

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. You sound like a broken radio.

There's an awkward silence as you and Suna both try to find the words to say. 

This is why you hate talking to him, he expects you to do all the work!

"You should know that the third elevator isn't that good. It always gets stuck on floor two. And the garbage chute at the end of every hall is kind of hard to open. You have to," you make a pulling motion, "really yank, ya know?"

Silence. Suna stares at you blankly.

You're just an absolute loser, aren't you?

He's gonna cringe, or worse, tell your advisor that you're being overfamiliar with him, an athlete 5 years your senior…

As you stand in your cheap winter boots, shivering, Suna suddenly laughs.

It's not the quiet chuckle you see him release when he's joking with Komori, but a head-throwing, mouth widening laugh.

"Uh..." you stutter, nervous.

It takes a full minute before he finally stops, silently pink at the face.

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," he says, lifting his shopping basket. 

You nod repeatedly, nerves subsiding.

"Wanna walk back together?" Suna asks. 

You hesitantly nod. Why not? It's late and dark, and though the neighborhood is calm, it never hurts to have a walking buddy.

On the walk home, to your surprise, Suna begins to talk about his team and compliments you for your article on the top liberos. You’ve never seen this side of him. There’s a reason why he’s so beloved— he’s a mystery.

You’re nearly zoning out as the two of you reach your apartment complex. 

"Am I boring you?" Suna suddenly asks.

It's such an unexpected question, you falter for a second.

"No! I'm just... I feel relaxed. I like hearing your voice," you say, surprised.

Suna lets out a sigh of relief as he punches in the door code to the building. 

"So. As I was saying, you want me to give you a ride tomorrow?"

"What?” 

"A ride. To the arena." He says, enunciating every word as if you're a child. 

"It's okay," you start, “I—”

"Take the subway, yeah. But it's a hassle, right?"

No, it's not. In fact, it's pretty nice, seeing strangers off to their desired destinations.

But it's as if he can read your mind.

"I’ll give you a ride." 

It's not a question anymore.

"Alright," you murmur.

The short journey to your floor is now awkward, and you’re wishing you had turned down his offer to walk together. 

The two of you are almost at the end of the hallway now, at your apartment door. To your horror, Suna doesn’t continue walking.

Instead, he simply turns around and reaches for the doorknob of the apartment just across from you. 

Strangely, you’re just now noticing just how narrow and dark this hallway is. 

Under the cheap fluorescent lights, you can only see the man in front of you. Suna’s pale hands flex as he easily readjusts his heavy grocery bags, reminding you he could take you out in a moment.

“Wow. Looks like we’re neighbors, huh?” Suna says, stepping into his flat.

You’re blinking up towards him, breath cut short.

“See you tomorrow, y/n.”

Funny. He didn’t sound surprised. 

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

You're just tying your hair when the doorbell rings.

"y/n, you ready?" 

Who would’ve imagined hearing the Suna Rintaro’s voice at 9 AM.

You sigh as you take a final glance into the mirror. You couldn’t completely hide the dark eye circles from your lack of sleep— who’d be able to sleep after learning a celebrity lives practically next door?

Taking a deep inhale, you push open your front door.

You instantly feel yourself healing as you take in Suna. It’s a similar effect to watching your favorite idols perform on stage— good looks work wonders on your tired body.

Suna leans against the wall, wearing a pair of black sweats and a thin blue hoodie. With a start, you can't help but notice it's almost a couple set with your blue sweater and black skirt.

"Good morning," he says, sliding his phone into his pocket. You nod in response. 

As you walk down the hall together to the elevators, you can't help but flush. Is this what it'd be like to have a boyfriend? As a student dedicated to her craft, you’d never felt the urge to date, remaining single your entire life. You can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be Suna Rintaro’s. 

“Oh! What’s this!” Kiana, a middle-aged woman, calls out as you and Suna wait for the elevator. 

“y/n! You never told me you got a boyfriend! And such a handsome one, too! Oh, if I was only a little younger…” 

You and Suna make eye contact and you blush, quickly turning towards the smiley woman, ready to retort.  

“We’re—” You barely make out a word before Suna suddenly takes your hand.

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Suna Rintaro, y/n’s boyfriend. I just moved into apartment 306.” 

At his words, both your and Kiana’s eyes widen.

Yours in confusion, hers in wonder as she recognizes the handsome stranger. 

“I know you! I know you! You’re Suna, from that team! Oh, my son is such a fan! I can't believe you're living here! He’ll be so excited."

As Suna and Kiana make small talk, you try to discreetly shake your sweaty hand out of Suna’s grasp. To your bewilderment, he continues gripping onto it, so hard you can feel his short fingernails digging into your soft skin. 

To your relief, the elevator chimes, and as Suna waves goodbye (you do too, out of habit), you gasp as he yanks you into the elevator.

"What was that?" You ask, nervously looking up at your ‘boyfriend.’ 

Suna’s eyes are hard as he stares down at you, but he’s glowing all the same, as if he’d just received a gift. 

“Saying we’re a couple. What was that about?”

Suna hums innocently. 

"I just thought it would be most convenient to tell her that. People will see us together from now on." 

No, they won't. 

“It would confuse them to have to explain you’re an intern.”

Was that so complicated?

But with his mischievous smirk and the way he taps his foot against the elevator floor, you just can’t find the courage to refute. 

“Alright… but could you let go?” You ask uncomfortably.

"Ah, right," he says, letting you free. 

You rub your hands together, easing the circulation back. 

Strangely, it feels especially cold without his grip on you.

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

"Wake up." 

Awakening with a start, you rub your eyes. 

You can't help but admit you could get addicted to free rides with Suna. 

His car is just too nice; the seats are fluffy and he turned on the heater to just the right temperature and there's soft piano playing from the speakers.

How long have you been out? 

Taking in your surroundings, you're surprised to find you're already at the Tokyo Volleyball Arena. You almost jump in shock as you realize what’s warming your lap— a box of your favorite strawberry waffles. 

“What’s this?” You question as Suna wordlessly hands you a fork. 

"I thought you might be hungry.” 

Suna slides a cup into your open hand— matcha. 

So he is a nice man, after all. 

“Wow, Suna! Let me please pay you back!” 

Your stomach grumbles as you take a bite of the sweet breakfast. 

“No, no, it’s on me.” 

How could you make it up to him? Maybe you should bake him cookies or something… you shift in your seat, frowning as you realize your bare thigh is strangely damp. Rubbing your thighs together, your eyebrows furrow.

“Oh,” Suna says, biting into his scrambled eggs, “sorry. That was me, I got some coffee on you while you were sleeping, so I wiped it away," he says sheepishly, gesturing towards the pack of wet wipes in the glove compartment.

He looks embarrassed, avoiding eye contact, so you don't push it any further.

He's kind of cute, you think.

It kind of feels too perfect– the plush comfort of Suna’s luxury car, the sweetness of the waffles, and the delicious matcha, albeit slightly salty.

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

"Hey, y/n, which movie should we watch?" Suna calls from your couch. 

You're in the kitchen, preparing popcorn in your small microwave.

"Studio Ghibli!" You shout back, stirring the hot chocolate, “I have a whole bunch downloaded, just choose one.” 

It's become a regular occurrence for the two of you to spend much of your free time together. At first, Suna had gently coaxed you into spending time with you under the guise of doing more research for the article you’re writing about him, but now you’ve grown to genuinely enjoy his company.

From morning rides to office lunches to casual dinners, it's like your life has been consumed by Suna. Your gut had been wrong, after all, because Suna treats you like a girlfriend— although you’d long shook away that silly thought— he’d never see a younger, broke student that way. 

But despite your brain knowing everything is just fine, your heart has yet to be rewired. It still pounds with discomfort, as if it knows that fundamentally, something’s wrong. 

You just can’t identify or place a label on that problem. 

More recently, you’ve been getting hit with strong deja vu from that one night at the grocery store months ago. 

As if it’s only the two of you on this planet. 

Sighing, you take your place next to Suna, glancing at your phone. It remains still, screen dark.

“What’s wrong?” Suna asks, frowning. He pushes up his black glasses, running his fingers through his damp hair.

You hesitate. It’s fine to share this, right? After all, it feels like Suna’s all you have right now.

“Well… I’m not sure why, but I think my friends are mad at me. For the past few months, they’ve been silent. They don’t really respond to me anymore, and when they do they just say they’re busy.”

Suna nods, reaching for your hand. You welcome the warmth of his fingers, blinking back tears.

“And even worse, my family hardly contacts me. I used to call my mom basically everyday. I think there’s something really wrong, Suna, I’m really worried.”

“How long has this been going on?” Suna has the movie paused now, full attention on you. He gently strokes your hair and the kind gesture has tears pooling in your eyes.

“For a few months… maybe… four? I didn’t realize it at first because of how busy I’ve been at work and with the article I’m writing on you,” you mumble, allowing Suna to embrace you. 

He’s gently rocking you back and forth now, rubbing your back, whispering kind words into your ear, telling you it’s okay and they’re probably just busy too…

Minutes pass before you finally look up, eyes widening as you take in his facial expression. 

Despite his sweet words, Suna’s eyes are completely blank and there’s a questionable, small smile on his face. You barely recognize him.

“y/n?” 

You blink, and take in an inaudible breath as you stare at Suna. 

He cocks his head, confused. He looks at you with nothing but affection and concern, thin lips pressed into a frown. 

Your heartbeat slows as you realize that, yet again, you’d just been seeing and feeling things wrong— whenever you’re around Suna, it’s as if you lose sense of your surroundings. 

Smiling, you sniffle as you wipe away your tears. 

“Sorry for getting emotional at movie night.”

Suna grins, giving you a final gentle hug before turning back to the television.

“Don’t be. I’m always here for you, y/n.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Q: Suna, this question has been long requested by your fanbase. How do you express love? 

A: Dedication. I give my all to my lover, no questions asked.

Oh, and I don’t like to share.

There’s suddenly a knock at your door, causing you to jump. You put down your laptop, where your open article draft sits nearly complete. 

The lightning storm outside has you shaking and you just wish Suna was here, holding you and laughing at his silly responses to your even stupider interview questions. 

Another knock at the door. 

Strange— Suna’s practice runs for extra long today for his upcoming tournament. Maybe he finished early. 

“Suna, why didn’t you call before practice finished? We could’ve gone out for dinner,” you scold as you pull open the door. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

Standing in front of you is your furious older sister, drenched from the rainstorm outside. 

“Oh my god! Come in!” You say, alarmed. You reach towards her wrist, but she remains planted in place. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

She’s angrier than you’ve ever seen her. 

“How could you tell us to fuck off? You really think your journalism is that important? Your writing isn’t more important than family, you asshole! It’ll never be important!” 

Taking a deep breath, your sister lets go, immediate regret evident on her face. She opens her mouth to apologize, but you’re not having any of it. 

Anger is coursing through your body now and you shove your sister away, causing her to stumble against Suna’s door. 

Your family has never supported your career— from when you were just a child, you’d had to work hard for your own future. 

So this is why they had shunned you? Because they can’t stand seeing you successful? Because you had moved away from the countryside to make something out of yourself in the city?

Tears stream down your face as you tremble.

“My writing is important,” you whisper. Your sister nods quickly, opens her mouth again—

“Don’t come by anymore. Don’t consider me a part of the family anymore.”

“No, I’m sorry— I think there’s a miscommunication, y/n! Wait!”

Slamming the door on her shocked face, you stumble towards the couch. 

It feels as though you’re going to die— the room spins as your lungs strive for air and your vision is becoming increasingly blurry. 

The sound of rain and your sister pounding on the door intertwine, and as you bury your head into a pillow, you really just wish Suna was at your side. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“y/n?” 

Someone’s tugging at your sleeve, and you glance up, blinking uncomfortably at the bright lights of the living room. There’s dried tear streaks on your face and you’re sure you look like a miserable ogre, but Suna looks at you with nothing but compassion as he hugs you, alarmed.

He’s slightly damp—probably a combination of sweat from practice and the rain outside—but you hold onto him eagerly as he eases you onto his lap. 

“What happened?” 

You shake your head, explaining what had happened in the few hours when he’d been gone. 

Suna’s furious on your behalf, jaw tight and fists clenched. 

“Thank god I told your sister to fuck off. She was standing at your door, yelling curses and threatening to call the police,” he mutters.

Tears spring to your eyes again. This only confirms the reality of your life now— your family (and probably friends, too) absolute despise you. 

 “Don’t worry, y/n. I’ll always be here for you,” Suna whispers. 

His words are somewhat like a relaxant to you. Taking a deep breath, you lean into his chest, sighing. 

“I don’t think I can write anymore, Suna. I don’t want to. What have I been working towards my whole life?” 

Suna remains silent for a moment, studying your sorrowful face, before leaning in to brush his nose against yours. Your eyes shift, admiring his gorgeous olive ones.

“Your journalism is amazing, y/n. And… if you hadn’t worked so hard, we might’ve never met, right?”

You smile sadly.

“I guess…”

“y/n, how about you wrap up your article tonight? You’re almost done, aren’t you?”

You gesture towards your open laptop on the coffee table. 

“It’s done, but it’s shit. My sister’s right, it’s not worth anything,” you say, embarrassed. You’ve always known you were talentless, which is why you’ve always worked harder. But it amounted to nothing in the end. 

You press your cold hands against your burning eyes as Suna picks up your laptop, skimming through what you’ve written about him. 

If even he hates it… that’s it. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to go on. 

“y/n, will you look at me?” 

Suna’s gently tugging at your hands covering your face. Biting your lip nervously, you let him take your hands into one of his. 

“Want my honest opinion?” He asks, placing the laptop onto your lap. You nod, staring down at the bright screen.

“This is the best thing anyone’s written about me.”

You close your eyes, shaking your head. 

“Don’t lie.”

“y/n. I’m serious. This shows exactly the side I wanted the public to know about me. It’s intimate, but written formally enough to be taken seriously by the media.” 

When you don’t respond, Suna sighs sadly. 

“I guess you don’t want the opinion of a dumb athlete, though…”

Frantically, you look up, shocked.

“Of course not! Suna, your opinion is everything to me!” 

Relief settles in your stomach as Suna grins, eyes shining. 

“Really?”

“Of course! Thank you… That really means a lot to me.”

Suna nods, rambling about how much he loves that sentence here, the use of punctuation there…

“What’s wrong?” He asks, noticing you look down again. 

“I… just feel like I have nobody but you, Suna.”

Suna smiles at you, waving towards the polaroids of your friends and family hung on the wall. 

“I’m sure they’ll come around again, y/n.” 

Your nose crinkles as you cringe at the photos. You want them gone. You want all of the references towards them gone. 

You want to get out of here.

“I hate this apartment, actually. They helped me decorate it and everything,” you sigh.

“Well then, how about we move out together?” 

You fiddle your thumbs, headache threatening to return.

“I don’t have that type of money,” you say, frustrated. It’s easy for a world-class athlete like him to just up and leave, but you’d never be able to, not unless you dropped out of school and found a job elsewhere. 

“y/n, I’ve just remembered. I have an apartment near our stadium, right? How about you move there for the rest of your internship?”

You hesitate. Intruding into the home of a man you’re not even in a relationship with? While the offer is tempting…

“Don’t worry about anything, y/n. Don’t think too hard about it.” 

Suna’s gently rubbing circles onto the side of your hands and you feel like melting away, exhausted. 

All that crying and anger has truly taken a toll on you. Your eyelids flutter as you finally nod.

“Okay.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure?” 

Now that it’s come to actually burning the photos, you’re hesitating. Aside from the few photographs on the walls, your apartment is completely bare, all of your belongings now residing in Suna’s luxury condo.

“y/n. You don’t need them anymore.”

You pause, the lighter in your hand feeling heavier by the second. With this, you’re truly erasing all parts of your former family and friends. Just then, your phone buzzes— you barely need to look at it to know it’s a string of curses from your ex-best friend. 

Suna grimaces as he deletes the message, examining you out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re right, Suna. I don’t.”

You watch as the pictures go up in flames, holding back tears. 

Looking around your now empty apartment, Suna wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

“I always thought your walls would look better bare.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

In and out. 

In and out.

There’s something so comforting about the way you breathe. 

You’re lying motionless on Suna’s large bed, curled into a ball. 

Adorable.

Sighing, Suna collapses next to you, admiring your eyebrows, the curve of your nose, your lips…

When was the last time he’d felt this content? Reaching out, Suna gently tucks your hair behind your ears, admiring the small s shaped earrings adoring them. 

Bringing you here was the best option. It’d taken him a little longer than he’d hoped, but now you were truly in the palm of his hand.

He’d almost slipped up a few times (your gut was much smarter than you) but everything had worked out, hadn’t it.

Since the day he’d first met you nearly a year ago, Suna knew you’d be his. 

He’s not sure why, but there’s this thing about him— sometimes, when he sees something, he wants it. 

And he’ll do anything to make sure it’s entirely his.

You mumble in your sleep, rolling over to face the large windows that present the city of Tokyo below his feet. 

He has it all now. 

His phone vibrates— messages from your concerned father. 

Rolling his eyes, Suna silently reaches over to your phone, which lies innocently next to your small hand, and unlocks it (the password being his birthday, obviously). 

Without hesitation, Suna begins wiping out all traces of the code he’s implanted into your phone. 

There would be no more reason to reroute your messages to himself anymore.

Next, Suna makes sure all of your family and friends’ contacts are blocked. 

Ensuring your safety is a top priority of his. 

He squeezes your device in his large hand, wondering if he should just break it. 

If Suna had it his way completely, he’d rather you not have a phone at all. 

Tossing your phone back onto your side of the bed, Suna smirks as he unlocks his own device. 

Desperate messages from your sister pop up, warning you of your tall neighbor, he threatened to kill me if i didn’t leave y/n please get away from him and go to the police!

Suna slides his thumb across the screen, removing the messages from his screen, and disconnects his phone from yours.

After all, you wouldn’t be getting contacted by those nuisances anymore. 

Almost done, then he can sleep peacefully with you—Suna sends the email he’s been working on: a PDF attachment of your final draft of your article on him and a short message of your resignation as an intern, written by yours truly. 

Turning over, Suna locks the bedroom door, smiling. 

There’s no need for anyone else. 

Not when he’s always going to be here for you.

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu #suna x reader #suna rintarou #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintarō #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro yandere #haikyuu yandere

[lizziesfirstwife]

Xaden Riorson Dating Headcanons

This man isn’t playing around when he likes someone

Alright, maybe he will tease you about the most embarrassing things to see you blush, but that’s only when you’re not together yet

Once you are together…

Let’s just say, together you’re far more of a menace than independently

But not for the obvious reasons

You tended to be utterly clumsy sometimes, to the point where Xaden had to escort you to most places so that you wouldn’t accidentally hit someone with your bag

It happened more times than you could count

One month, Garrick even had more bruises from you than from training

No one could grasp how someone like him could be with someone like you

You were…actually nice to people

How did your kindness and optimism not vanish over the time spent at Basgiath?

When he still had a crush on you, Sgaeyl bullied him for how distracted you would make her rider in the span of an eye glance

Wearing a different hair style? He was smitten

And it didn’t change after he asked you out

Asking you out was a phenomenon itself with the whole mindset of ‘we could die any second, why have relationships’

Whereas Sgaeyl didn’t stop teasing her rider about his soft spot for you, Xaden couldn’t care less about that

As long as he could hear the delighted giggles that escaped your mouth before you could help it

To say your sunny personality often contrasted against his grumpy one, wasn’t an understatement

With anyone else, he did not take off his tense, on-guard expression

But once he was in your presence again, his shoulders dropped with relief of finally letting down the mask he wore for everyone else

The mask of a man that couldn’t afford to have any weaknesses, or be seen as having a soft side

But believe me, once you two are alone, he doesn’t stop spoiling you

And I don’t mean the other spoiling cough cough, that’s a whole other story

All the random items, like the new flight jacket, or the leather boots that suddenly appeared in your room, of course had nothing to do with him

You always teased him about the redness that would paint his face when you confronted him about it

How shy he would get all of a sudden

He would make you regret laughing at him, later when you two were alone

Overall, he's that Barbie meme when dating

On the outside, a brooding and overly serious male

But on the inside?

He was just a mistreated person that cared deeply for the ones close to him

He would do anything to make you happy and content

Your dragons had had enough of your lovesick behavior by now

But how could they condemn you, with the times that were yet to come…

~~~

(Edit: As of my knowledge, this was the first ever work of fiction on tumblr, ao3, etc, about Xaden. So please, reblog this, like this, comment, share it with your friends or on social media, as it gives me utter motivation to continue my work! 🫶)

Thank you for reading! There are literally no Xaden Riorson works out there, so I thought, let's make something! Normally I don't write for book characters, but we somehow have to survive until November 🌸 If you liked it, let me know in the comments or by liking and reblogging this post!

#lizziesfirstwife #xaden riorson #xaden #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson fanfiction #xaden riorson fanfic #xaden riorson headcanons #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfiction #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing x reader

[hana-no-seiiki]

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ FIVE STAGES OF YANDERE ࿐: IDOL EDITION

“ 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃. “

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere! idol! oc (jisoo han) x superfan/manager! reader

✧ tw/cw: yandere themes, reader is also yandere at the start, mentions of anxiety and self harm, honestly idol life is its own tw

HAPPY HANA NO SEIIKI ANNIVERSARY YA’LL!!

[ series masterlist ]

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE ONE. ✧ DENIAL

“Oh gosh (oh gosh) this is so crazy. I’ve fallen in love again.

I trip so easily.

Adore new things, they sparkle.”

“Why are you so obsessed with him?”

“Dunno, just am.”

Your entire life revolved around Yesterday’s Dawn’s ace, Eve. The idol who had been in everyone’s lips. Whose name had been heard throughout nations you’ve never even heard of.

He was your sun, the reason you had the energy to wake up every single day, the light of your life.

Every waking moment you spent it either thinking of him or offering your services for name.

It was normal for you to spend hours looking at his schedule, knowing where he was, being around him most times, or staring at media of him.

Somehow, you were able to land a job as his manager.

You were finally closer to your god.

But you swiftly find out that no man should be likened to one for only disappointment can be found in such a path.

Eve was a lot more . . . burnt out than you expected. A lot less passionate and energetic than he was in camera if not irritable.

It was normal for him to harass workers when they didn’t meet a standard he imposed, as such, after the first few weeks of your employment everyone that you were with have already been fired, quit, and/or paid to keep their silence on the matter.

Yet your feelings for him only stayed; as your employment with the company. Your meticulous and proactive nature as a fan site owner allowed you to take much of the workload he threw at you.

The little admiration you have left for the man kept you standing.

And if only you were a little less stressed you’d notice his scarlet eyes providing stares of amusement, bewilderment, and growing affection.

You never complained (at least, in a place where he could hear you).

Whenever he asked for impossible items or schedules you’ll simply grin and work things out in your little way.

You adjusted to his turbulent temperament as quickly as an experienced pilot in a stormy sky, a sailor of uncharted, dangerous waters.

You were brilliant. Reminiscent of his times as a trainee.

Bit by bit he started lessening your workload. Allowing you to rest. Hell, even giving you his coffee if he didn’t want it. He never gives away his coffee.

You acquiesced to many of his whims but were never a pushover. Always doing your job perfectly. Keeping him in line.

He would have fallen for you already, had he not been in love with someone else.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE TWO. ✧ ANGER

“Peek-a-boo! It’s only love when my heart quivers.

All my friends yell at me, they say I have a problem.

I’m fine fine fine fine fine fine!”

“ For this comeback period, [L/N] will be assigned to Hayate instead. Eve will have his senior’s manager work with him instead.”

“Understood.”

You were assigned to another member around Spring.

Yesterday Dawn’s most hectic time of the year aside from fall as the group’s concept was as the name suggested, focused more on nostalgia and times of youth.

You were relieved.

You never thought you would have been able to say that after being separated from Eve, but now it was the only thing you had on your mind.

No more late night calls about wanting coffee but throwing the leftovers at you the moment he was sick of the taste, no more work being thrown at you and taken away at random moments, no more working around his schedule so that he’ll have time to meet that dear senior of his in private.

You were free.

Hayate was known to be the harsher one in the fandom, but much like Eve his image was a bit different from his actual self.

Sure he was demanding, but he was fair. He wasn’t controlled by whims and impulse. You were finally able to do your job properly til the end, and you didn’t always feel a judging stare from him like Jisoo would always throw at you.

You were finally able to smile.

However, you see, being a manager for another member did not mean you would completely be free of your original client.

Hayate and Eve worked quite closely, and as such, you’d often help with Jisoo’s requests even if you weren’t obligated to.

Eve immediately saw the change in you.

You were, a lot more bright. Less haggard. Your voice less hoarse. Relaxed.

You were already getting along better with his group member than you ever did with him.

Eve wasn’t really the type to show his anger actively. He was always more, passive.

The senior he was head over heels for was slowly forgotten as he’d spent countless of hours pouring his feelings into his music. What was supposed to be a bittersweet spring album turned out to be one of sour regret and frustration.

Of course, it was still a hit. It even scored him a collaboration with the senior he oh so wanted to have their eyes on him. But all he could think of as he went to bed early in the morning was the way you’d laugh whenever Hayate spoke to you.

Hmph, the guy wasn’t even funny.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE THREE. ✧ BARGAINING

“Hey you, do you wanna play a game? I already know what you want.

Close your eyes and count to 10. Don’t matter anyways

Cause I am going to find you.”

“Did you hear? Jisoo got his first scandal. Apparently he bullied a bunch of students during high-school.”

“Wasn’t he . . . homeschooled?”

Causing scandals was easy. Dealing with scandals was not.

All Eve had to do was talk to some people, had a few pictures edited and voila, chaos.

It was amusing really, his company superiors would ply him with reassurances and sweet words; telling him that everything will be fine and dealt with while his pr managers dropped down like flies trying to prevent the flames of hatred from spreading too far.

All of them, hopelessly unaware.

All but his stupid senior.

“Why are you doing this now, Ji?”

They always looked down at him almost. Like he was a petulant child that needed to be coddled or scolded depending on their mood.

“We should focus on the track.”

And like he expected, you were brought right back to him. As you should be.

The heads figured out that you were the only one capable of handling the shitstorm without falling into the hands of alcohol or other substances in grief.

And as they expected you did.

After all, you had a timeline of his entire life in a canva document. Even if it was only mentioned once in a concert interview before they went famous. You were an Eve superfan.

All you did was confirm the fact that Jisoo got homeschooled by contacting his parents and teachers, and the rest was easy. You even reactivated your fansite for such an occasion.

If only you hadn’t.

Maybe then Jisoo wouldn’t have a definite reason to pursue you.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FOUR. ✧ DEPRESSION

“You’ll never get this concept, you might as well forget it

Just play again, bet it all, roll the dice

BLANCA”

Eve thought he was doing well in terms of romancing you.

Ever since he found out about your fansite instead of feeling disgust and horror he felt . . . great, amazing even. A high the stage could never give him.

Of course, you two were destined.

It was only his duty to protect you as your partner, to spoil you, dote on you.

Even if you don’t realize your intertwined fates yet.

. . .

Eve always hovered over you.

Usually managers took shifts with watching over the idols. Half of your time was supposed to be spent planning rather than overseeing his activities.

Yet you seemed to have a never ending babysitting responsibility.

Your past self would have committed several war crimes for the sake of this opportunity. But after a year or so under his ‘care’ you found yourself slowly veering off into the type of insanity you didn’t like falling in.

You felt a bit like Andy from the original Devil Wears Prada book, only that your resentment simmered slowly. Forming into a hideous red sludge of exasperation whenever he randomly wanted to take a vacation. Forcing only you to come with him. Which meant an even bigger workload, and even more people to talk to for flights, schedule conflicts, reservations and all that.

You snapped.

It was a calm afternoon.

The sun was burning you alive as Eve insisted you two would go on a ‘beach date’ for some summer fun.

He shoved a drink in your hand.

And you just broke down.

Tears fell from your eyes, your breath shallow.

You asked him if this amused him. If your suffering was funny to him. If making you fall over just to get his demands on time made him feel fulfilled as a person.

And before he could answer you ran.

A week after that your schedule was finally normal.

Eve kept his distance. Not just from you but from everyone.

You knew of his anxiety attacks and depression before. But seeing those up close and personal scared you.

Things only get worse from here.

⟣┄─ ˑ STAGE FIVE. ✧ ACCEPTANCE

“So it’s too late you’re in the game now. If you keep up might not lose it.

The jungle gym of fun, like hell yeah

Makin the moon fall down down down.”

Eve spent most of his ‘hiatus’ watching your posts of him. Edits, fanfictions, photography, fancams.

Of course, it wasn’t to see himself perform again. He already did that on a regular basis to make sure he kept himself up to the standards of an idol.

It was to see your captions.

Your fanatic raving made him feel . . . loved.

Your previous thoughts on his performances made him feel complete. Like he found a missing piece of a puzzle he kept trying to put something else to fill it in.

Another part of his hiatus was spent preparing for his graduation. The termination of his contract.

It was clear you didn’t love him as an idol anymore. It was his fault really. He couldn’t see how he was hurting you with his work and desires.

If there was another thing he can thank his idol work for was the amount of money he had saved.

Now, he had a new home built far away from civilization. It was completely soundproof. The bed he ordered was custom made, tailored to your preferences this time rather than his. Food stocked to the nines. A few instruments here and there so he could compose even while retired.

He can always make a new song, a new life for you two to enjoy together.

“My voice, my body, my soul. It had always been yours. I just didn’t realize it.”

✧ [AUTHOR’S NOTE]:

For more EVE content check out the #hns.eve tag 🩵

Lyrics are a mix of translations from the og song and Mitch Joseph’s cover.

OFFICIAL EVE CHARACTER AI

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere core #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere boy x readere #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere scenario #yandere headcannons #yandere idol #yandere singer #yandere self insert #yandere x darling

[f1letters]

lavender haze | mv1

"I been under scrutiny, you handle it beautifully"

summary: after winning his second championship in another controversial way, max needed her by his side more than ever as the media tried to tear him apart

warning: a little bit of angst for Max, but overall fluff for the couple, swearing, suggestive language, mentions of the championship-deciding races of Abu Dhabi GP 2021 and Japan GP 2022 from Max's point of view, mentions of scrutiny from the media, Jos Verstappen lol

pairing: max verstappen x reader

word count: 2.8k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past. also, I would like to point out that I didn't write this as a personal opinion/critique of Ted or anyone involved in the whole Sky Sports scandal (which is why I didn't use his name or his exact words in the story and why I only used the controversy as a reference/inspiration very loosely), but rather wrote about what I imagine were the thoughts/feelings of people on Max's side (himself, the Red Bull team, Jos, etc), regarding this matter.

dutch words used: schatje = baby; liefje = honey

and we are back! once again, thank you all for being so understanding about me skipping last weekend 💜 I hope you enjoy this little story, as always!

masterlist

Meet me at midnight

Ever since he was just a little boy, all Max dreamed of was being a Formula 1 champion.

To have his name written in the history books. To have his legacy immortalized in the records for eternity.

From then, Max spent all of his hours, days, weeks, months and years preparing for it. He gave all of his blood, sweat and tears for it.

For that exact moment: when he stood right there in Japan, tall and proud, with his trophy in hand, after being announced World Champion for the 2nd time.

Lying in bed that night, staring at the ceiling next to his girlfriend, the driver could still feel the euphoria coursing through his veins.

He couldn't believe how lucky he was to be in that position. 

He had everything he could ever want: his biggest dream came true twice, he had a successful career that so many envied, and most of all, he had the best person in the world by his side.

At the end of the day, it didn't matter all the money, the victories, the parties, the luxury if he couldn't have her there in his arms.

Y/N was everything to him, and he knew that the championship victory was as much hers as his.

Max let his hand run through the shiny strands of his partner's hair, the warm skin of their bodies pressed together, while Y/N drew random figures with her soft fingers across the man's toned chest.

The couple remained in each other's arms, not saying too much, both still over the moon and completely in awe from the unforgettable day they just had.

"I'm so proud of you, my love." Y/N broke the silence installed in the hotel room, whispering her words. "You can't imagine how happy I am for you."

Staring at the ceiling with you

Oh, you don't ever say too much

And you don't really read into

My melancholia

Max half smirked with his eyes half closed as sleep began to creep in.

With his eyes locked on the girl before him, the boy tucked the hair that covered her face behind her ear and stayed like that for a few minutes. Just living in the moment, letting her words sink in, appreciating what life had given him.

"Thanks, schatje. For everything." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm completely crazy about you, you know that?"

Y/N laughed shyly, moving her body even closer to her boyfriend's, laying down on his chest. "Stop, Max! You know I get all embarrassed when you start saying stuff like that."

"You stop! I'm just telling the truth!" Their laughter filled the room in pure harmony. Max stopped, returning to his moment of gratitude. "I just love you. So much, Y/N. This is all thanks to you."

"This is all thanks to your talent, baby." The young woman rested her cheek against the driver's bare shoulder. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Y/N knew that Max would immediately understand what she was trying to say.

The girl couldn't help but fear that the Dutchman would let all the scrutiny behind yet another championship win bring him down.

Max had a whole facade around him. Max appeared to be confident, poised, collected, unfazed by all adversity, and sometimes even self-centred and arrogant because of his posture on the track. 

But deep down, Max was nothing but a fragile little boy, still trying to seek his father's approval.

Max was obsessed with perfection. Everything he had to do had to be absolutely spot on: every corner had to be perfectly executed, his car had to be at its best at all times, any position other than the first one was simply not good enough.

Knowing him better than anyone, Y/N knew how to handle him beautifully and knew that in the back of Max's mind, the fact that this was yet another victory tainted by controversy was tormenting him, even if he tried to hide it.

I've been under scrutiny

You handle it beautifully

All this shit is new to me

Both of them could only imagine all the headlines, the comments, the criticism. All because of a loophole that was never under the driver's control.

"Don't worry about me." Max answered the unspoken question the girl posed. "I don't give a damn what people say."

The harsh words that came out of his mouth seemed to be an attempt to convince himself more than her. They both knew that.

It had been almost a year since the boy had been named champion for the first time and yet to that day he still suffered attacks due to something that (once again) was not in his power to change.

Y/N didn't push, knowing the argument was going nowhere, and instead chose to joke with her boyfriend to lighten the mood. "Well, I don't know if you know this... but you look so much hotter as a two-time world champion."

Happiness filled Max's chest as he chuckled, turning their position so that his body was on top of hers. His lips roamed over her neck, leaving soft kisses and nibbles along the way, until he strayed away to deposit an intense and passionate kiss on her mouth.

His head lifted slightly, creating enough distance between them for him to speak, though their lips were still touching. "What if I showed again how it feels like to fuck a two-time world champion, hmm?"

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

Two weeks passed until the next race, the couple trapped in their lavender haze.

The Texas sun cut through the clouds in the sky and reflected warmly on the girl's skin as she entered the circuit, side by side with Carola.

Both friends over the last few years since they met in the Red Bull garage through their partners, the young women understood each other perfectly: both were reserved, with no great desire for attention on them, just there to support their lovers.

As always, a peaceful and relaxed conversation was taking place between the two, as they strolled around the paddock with smiles on their faces. 

Carola told Y/N all about the latest incident at the Perez house, with the small sibling clashes between Checo Jr. and Carlota, and the other girl just laughed. She knew how happy those children made her friend and she couldn't wish anything else for Carola.

Suddenly the mood around them seemed to change. 

The environment that before was serene, relaxed, and enthusiastic now gave off a heavy, tense, nervous energy.

Y/N started looking into the faces of the people they passed for answers, aware that they were looking at her. What the fuck is going on, she thought to herself.

Carola sensed the discomfort on her friend, placing a concerned hand on the girl's shoulder. "Y/N, are you okay?"

"Well, I'd like to know the answer to that question too," Y/N confessed without too much thought. "I don't know, honestly. I have a feeling something is wrong."

"Maybe it's nothing," The Mexican tried to calm her down, running her hand up and down along her friend's forearm, although she was aware of the gazes in their direction too. "We're almost at the garage and we'll clear everything up."

Walking through the navy blue walls, the tension only intensified in the air. 

The faces of the team members showed worry and nervousness, and the PR team rushing back and forth relentlessly was a sign that something had gone wrong during the drivers' media duties following their practice session.

Knowing Max like the back of her hand... Y/N knew it was him.

All they keep asking me

Is if I'm gonna be your bride

The only kind of girl they see

Is a one-night or a wife

"Hey, where's Max?" Y/N asked her father-in-law, Jos, who wore an angry look on his face. Although their relationship was distant, she knew that if anyone was aware of everything that was going on in her boyfriend's career, it was his father.

"Would also like to know." The man replied dryly, running a hand impatiently through his hair. "He just walked out of here like a fucking coward, and left the others here to sort out his shit."

Y/N swallowed hard, knowing it wasn't worth wasting time trying to defend Max as all the words she would say would go in one ear and out the other. "What happened?"

"That shitty reporter, that's what happened." The older Verstappen replied, raising his tone. "That bastard had the nerve to say on live TV that Max didn't deserve any of his titles, and he panicked like a pussy. I didn't raise him like that - I raised him to be a man, not a little boy."

Without a second thought, Y/N turned her back on the man and grabbed her phone, trying to call her partner, only for her call to go to voicemail.

Unconsciously, the girl opened her Instagram and immediately came across the reporter's now-viral video.

"He doesn't seem to be capable of winning a championship without some sort of scandal. First, Hamilton was obviously ripped off in Abu Dhabi; now, they award full points in a race that wasn't even half finished because of some apparent 'loophole'?! Favouritism at its best."

All of a sudden, the air seemed to have difficulty getting into the girl's lungs, the temperature seemed to have risen dramatically, and Y/N started to feel dizzy as the media started to bring up Max's history.

Max, where are you, she asked herself, begging for a sign of his presence.

I find it dizzying

They're bringing up my history

But you aren't even listening

Y/N looked everywhere: in the garage, in his driver's room, in all the different rooms in the motorhome, in the back of the building, in the cafeteria, everywhere. 

She was starting to run out of options, but she knew he had to be around somewhere since his exit from the circuit would not be discreet at all, quite the contrary.

If I were Max where would I hide from the world, she reflected, desperate to be reunited with her boyfriend. Of course! In the place where everyone least expected to find him.

With a hurried step and depositing complete confidence in this last and risky idea, Y/N set off on her way until she came face to face with the red walls, embellished with the Prancing Horse symbol.

Deviating towards the back of the Ferrari building, Y/N felt her heart return to its normal rhythm when she set her eyes on the image of his lover.

There he was, sitting on the grass, with his vision pointed to the sky, so small and so fragile that no one else would be able to see him hiding there.

The girl slowly approached the driver, almost afraid to startle him, until he eventually noticed her presence when she was only a few inches away from him. His shoulders visibly relaxed at the sight of his girlfriend, and a small, forced smile appeared on his face.

"Of course you found me," Max whispered, placing his hand on the girl's thigh, who was now sitting on the grass next to him. "I guess you already know what happened."

Y/N laid her head on his shoulder, hugging his strong arm. "Yeah, I saw it... I'm sorry Max, you don't deserve this."

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

That lavender haze

"I don't really care," Max spoke, shaking his head. "Let them say what they want. It doesn't matter to me."

"Baby…" The young woman knew that he was doing what he always did: bottling it up inside, hiding his feelings, just like he was taught to do his whole life.

"Liefje, don't worry. I'm fine, I promise."

"Max, stop doing this." Y/N touched his face, forcing him to look at her with his noticeably teary eyes.

"Y/N-"

"Max, please." The girl begged. "You don't have to pretend to be strong with me. You can be honest; you can scream, cry, freak out, you name it, and I'll always be here to listen."

The Dutchman took a deep breath in acceptance, leaning his head back against the red wall. "I'm just tired, you know? I try and try to do my best at all times and it's never enough. Not for the media, not for my dad, or-"

"For me, it's more than enough." The girlfriend interrupted. "And it should be enough for you too. You shouldn't care what others say… Especially your father." She teased, forcing a laugh out of Max's mouth.

The boy contemplated her words for a few seconds, placing a kiss on her temple. "I love you, you're the best."

"I know," She replied, bumping his shoulder playfully. "But I'm serious, Max. No one should have enough power over you that they can make you feel inferior, or less than you are. You are Max fucking Verstappen, two-time Formula 1 world champion. And so much more to come, I don't doubt it for a second."

Talk your talk and go viral

I just need this love spiral

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

Talk your talk and go viral

I just need this love spiral

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

The girl jumped to her feet, waking the driver from his own thoughts, and reached out to him with both her hands to help him get up on his feet too. "Come on, champ! Enough sulking here and let's face the world with our heads held high, shall we?"

Much calmer after getting it off his chest, Max looked at her with eyes shining with pride and, accepting her help, he got up. Instantly, his arms found their place around her waist, as did his lips on hers.

The couple shared a calm kiss, enjoying their moment of peace in the midst of such a chaotic situation.

"Thanks, schatje." Max said, returning his mouth to hers seconds later. "I can never thank you enough for everything you've done and do for me every day."

"I would do anything for you, baby." Y/N smiled wide, the dimples in her cheeks becoming noticeable. "Anything."

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me

So real, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want for me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

On their way to the Red Bull garage, the two reappeared in the paddock, hand in hand, eyes only on each other.

With them, dozens of photographers and journalists emerged from the shadows, hunting the Dutchman for his comments and trying to get controversial headlines for their next articles.

But from Max, they only managed to take away the magical smile he had stamped on his face while talking to his girlfriend.

It was almost as if nothing had happened to him, such was the confident and determined posture the driver now assumed.

There was nothing like a good dose of love to make someone feel on top of the world, and Max was living proof of that in front of all those prying eyes.

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

That lavender haze

I just wanna stay

The world could crumble around them and they would still manage to stay on their feet.

They were a team. They had the perfect balance between them, the strength to face any obstacle together. Like two separate souls born to be reunited, in this life and all lives to come. Born to be on their lavender haze forever.

"Just you and me, liefje." Max whispered so only she could hear over the screams and camera flashes.

Y/N pulled him by the arm closer to her body in search of the comfort he conveyed to her every time, and smiled discreetly at him.

"You and me against the world, my love."

I just wanna stay

In that lavender haze

taglist: @dan3avocado @starxqt @roseinnej @spiidergirlsworld @ccloaned @hotpigeon22 @dr3lover @lovelytsunoda @primadonnasdream @luxebeautystyle @wallfloweriism @ilivefortheleague @gwynethhberdara @satellitelh @adavenus @audreyscodes @wifeoflucyboynton @th6ccnsp6cyy @classifiedsblog @flyingmushroomss @motylekrozi @claramllera @gabrielamaex @handsupforamiracle @pierre-gasssllyy @lorenaloveslewis

@idkiwantchocolatee @simpforsunwoo @kissatelier @xweirdxsceletton @micksmidnights @miniminescapist @inchidentwithmax @hopelesslyromantics-world @alwaysclassyeagle @indieclarke @capela-miranda @okokoksblog-blog @pulpfixion @sins-only33 @sainzclerc @allisonxf1 @honethatty12

@amsofftrack @flannel-cures @junkiespromise @loudoperahumanoidpanda @honeyric3 @holy-macncheese-balls @ricciardosheart @pierreverstapkin @ravenqueen27 @majkaftorek @home-of-disaster @buendiabebeta @itgirlofnowhere @roses-of-eden @thewintersunset @rubychocolatechips

(taglist continues in the comments)

thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 one shot #max verstappen #mv1 #f1letters #f1 x taylor swift #f1 x reader #f1 x midnights #Spotify #max verstappen one shot #formula 1 one shot #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 x reader #max verstappen fic #f1 fic

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Randomly thinking about “tolerate it” (narrator voice: it was not random) and how under the cloak of fiction it is ostensibly inspired by works like “Rebecca” (which Taylor said she read during the 2020 lockdowns I believe?), with the line of “you’re so much older and wiser” indicating that the speaker is significantly younger and inexperienced compared to the person she’s speaking to and a pretty direct reference to the plot of the book.

But I saw something somewhere once that stuck with me about how it might not be referring to relative age between the characters but chronological age as in the passage of time in a relationship. And that made me think about how in a contemporary context, it might not necessarily be referencing an actual age gap between the two characters, but rather a sarcastic or cynical response to the man’s claims that he has matured (“you’re so much older and wiser [than you were before/than you were when we met/etc.]”), which then made me think about that line in relation to the woman. And that it could be taken like, “you act like you’ve matured so much in our time together and like you know everything, while I’m supposedly still stuck as the girl I was when we first met.”

Which then made me think of the “right where you left me” of it all and did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen time went on for everyone else she won’t know it and the bit in Miss Americana where she talks about how celebrities get frozen at the age at which they got famous, and how she’s had to play catch up in a lot of ways not just in her emotional growth but kind of in general. (Which also made me wonder if she’s ever been called out for immaturity/lack of curiosity/lack of education about things in her life…)

Which then made me think about the rest of the song, and @taylortruther’s posts yesterday about “seven” and “Daylight” and the way Taylor idealizes her youth yet contrasts it with an almost sinister reality in its wake, and the line, “I sit by the door like I’m just a kid,” because the discussion raised that her relationship let her recapture some of the childlike joy and wonder she’d lost. So this line is a double-edged sword: the speaker sits by the door with childlike hope that the person will come home and cherish her, but on the darker side, feels like the child dealing with the monsters she doesn’t have names for yet and the feelings of isolation she felt as she aged.

I’m not saying the song is necessarily autobiographical; like most of the songs on folkmore, it’s clearly a fictionalized story based on media she’d consumed and created, but we know a lot of the fictional songs were infused with her own feelings and experiences and… This idea swirling in my head picked up steam and now I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Sorry but I’m a little obsessed now.

Like maybe it might start to shed light on why she identified so strongly with the novel in the first place…

#the third eye has been opened #😵‍💫 #like tolerate it was always a difficult song #even when we learned it was based on Rebecca it obviously took on new meaning post-joever #and especially in light of ttpd #but the thought spiral i went on last night when i started thinking about all these connections #and the evermore of it all #I’m Charlie at the conspiracy board again #writing letters addressed to the fire #me thinking too hard about Taylor lyrics #evermore my beloved #tolerate it #i kinda gave myself the ick with all this 😵‍💫 #because of the ttpd of it all coming up #and i feel like i remember interviews where Taylor said joe was so well-read especially about like world events and politics and stuff #and supported her when she wanted to start speaking up (not getting into that) #but just based on ~vibes now I wonder if that was like a sore point too at some point #which again i have no proof of but just like… experience with pretentious millennial art bros lol #oh man oh man oh man #this feels like some sort of huge revelation at 1:00 am #when i started writing this lol #eta: when I queued this in the middle of the night i didn't see all the excellent discussion about the seven/folklore posts #so all of you who have been posting about them this morning consider yourselves tagged too!

[banditthewriter]

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]

-----

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.”

X

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