#- all the people are gone but the music is still playing and there’s still snacks so I’m gonna sit down and eat.

[zimmbzon]

I’m sorry, Sonic and North got photographic evidence of Charlie and Jeff being buddy-buddy-pals in like 3 minutes. But Tony and his army of suped-up baby alphas are still completely clueless?

Are Sonic and North the real enigmas here?

[covetyou]

stars and stripes

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: nipple play, novelty underwear, balls, anxiety, democracy, the pledge of allegiance, friendly brotherly contest, alcohol, prelude to oral sex (m! receiving) word count: 5k summary: Roles are reversed this Fourth of July when you surprise Joel with a little festive treat of your own.

A/N: happy 4th of July to folks in the US and happy general election day to my fellow UK pals! If you haven't exercised your right to vote yet, and you're registered, you have until 10pm BST tonight to get to your polling station - as long as you're in line by 10pm, you'll be able to vote. do dress up Joel proud, and go do a democracy.

I make absolutely no apologies for anything in this fic. not a single thing. especially not that thing. tis the season. happy ballidays, pals!

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As it turned out, Joel knew a guy who knew a guy who could fix your AC, and within two days your house was a safe haven from the burgeoning Texas summer.

Easy as that, apparently. Your desperate attempts to call around HVAC companies the week your AC busted seemed stupid now that it was all a matter of simply knowing a guy.

Not that it was all easy. Letting someone else into your house after everything that had gone on suddenly felt scary, and it took Joel promising you he'd dip from his own job for the afternoon to keep an eye on things for you to feel okay with any of it.

But, even that left an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You'd told him to let himself in, though this time you'd given him a key, and that felt like something. For as many times as he'd broken in, and for as long as you'd left your house open and vulnerable - and, by extension, yourself - handing over your spare keys to Joel for the day felt more vulnerable than you'd ever felt with him wandering your house at unknown hours of the day and night.

It felt like something all over again when you handed them over to him the next week too - there was a jammed drawer he wanted to fix, and he said he could get in to see to it before work one day.

Even when you opened the door to him on the nights he didn't have Sarah - his daughter, you'd learned - it felt like something. Especially knowing that that spare key now sat attached to his own, jingling in his pocket each time he walked into your home, invited.

And the more somethings it felt like, the less you felt like figuring it out.

It continued the same way for weeks. Him moving back and forth the short distance between his home and yours, while you stayed safely cocooned in your own, cool, four walls.

Then, barely one month into this officially unofficial something that you were, it was finally time for you to make that short journey down the street to Joel's.

Being honest, the thought of it had terrified you, and you'd almost backed out multiple times.

Not because it was Joel, or Joel's house - at least, that's what you told yourself - but because a "the whole neighborhood is invited, bring snacks or beer" type of Fourth of July party wasn't the kind of way you'd envisioned your first time in Joel's home. You figured maybe it'd be dinner, or a movie, or a quick fuck against the stairs with Joel's balls trussed up in something. Normal things.

Not loud peopley things.

Still, you readjust your top once more, take the briefest of glances in the mirror, and head out the door anyway, nerves be damned. You can totally handle a Fourth of July BBQ at Joel's house.

You think you can all the way up to Joel's driveway, when the nerves come back with a vengeance and you stand there, feeling sick, listening to the sounds of people and music coming from the backyard.

You try to tell yourself it all makes sense. It's a new place, a place that should mean so much because it's his, but try as you might you can't fight back the panic rising as you think of the very many faces that are going to be in this new place too. Familiar faces, faces you'd seen most days as you went about your life down this street you called home, people you'd shared small talk with and said good morning to almost every day as you left for work.

Then there's this stupid outfit you're wearing. The you from weeks ago chose it the very same day you said yes to Joel's invitation, and the you of today didn't have the energy or inclination to think of anything else. Wear whatever, Joel had said, it's just a casual thing. So, you'd gone for casual.

Braless is casual, right?

Not that that was a specific choice, more a necessity. You'd chucked the third bra on the floor in a huff, cursing your shitty outfit choice and lack of bra to fit it, and instead decided to stick on some nipple pasties and be done with it.

All that's done now, and now here you are, still standing like an idiot in the driveway, closer to Joel's home than you have ever been, psyching yourself up to go inside.

With a deep breath of the dry Texas heat, you head for the open back gate, the soft sound of your shoes on the paving stones so loud in your ears as everything wooshes and fizzes in your head.

It's somehow both better and worse than your expectations.

You're immediately greeted by a sea of recognizable faces, the bottle of wine you forgot you were even holding whisked out of your hand and taken inside before you can even get your first round of hello's in. You don't have much of a chance to be nervous, or self conscious, or any of the things you'd worried about being in the days leading up to being here, because there's just so much of everything around you. Noises, smells, people.

Everything, except for Joel. You've not caught a single look at him since you got here - minutes ago - and you wonder if he's even here and not relaxing back at your place on the couch.

Then you see him. At least, you think it's him. His back is to you, locked into conversation so fierce he hasn't noticed the commotion about your entrance.

You think it's him, but you're also certain you don't know of anyone else who would dress head to toe in red, white, and blue candy stripes. The sight of it makes you forget your own outfit worries as a grin forms on your face, and that familiar rumbling of something in the pit of your stomach comes back all over again.

"Not eyein' the very slightly younger model, are you?" comes a gruff voice that has you twisting rapidly on the spot, the smile barely given chance to fall from your face when you spot the actual, real life Joel standing right there next to you, cold beer in hand.

In your own defence, real life Joel isn't dressed much better than the other Joel stood over the other side of the yard. He's probably dressed worse, actually. He's head to toe in stars, all the way from the novelty headband on his head to the flashing star lights clipped to his shoes. It's gaudy, and camp, and so perfectly Joel that the smile that dipped from your face for all of half a second is back, and you're grinning up at him, that feeling in your belly violently boiling away now that he's right there.

"Oh, him?" you say with a wave of your hand. "Nah. He's like a dollar store version of you."

"Really? I'll be sure to tell Tommy he's Dollar Store Joel from now on. He'll love that. Hey, Tommy!" he calls over the yard, before slipping his free hand behind your back. "C'mon. Let me introduce y'all."

He guides you over, hand never leaving the small of your back, touching you out here in front of all these people as if you are actually officially the kind of something that everyone should know about. And maybe you are.

But then, you're looking into familiar friendly eyes, so similar to the ones you've been staring into and dreaming of since Christmas, and watching this familiar strangers face light up so brightly you briefly wonder if his joy is misplaced until he's wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

"Shit, he weren't lying," says Tommy as he rocks on his feet with you in his arms before releasing and looking down at you. "You are real."

Before Joel can land a firm whack to Tommy's shoulder, Tommy's pulling you in for another hug, telling you how nice it is to finally meet you, because he's heard all about you, dropping in a few choice words about his asshole brother here and there as he chatters to you, and Joel, and even himself.

At some point, whether it's during the fourth hug or the eighteenth, you're not sure, Joel slips off to grab you a drink, leaving you with his bizarrely dressed brother.

"Ain't never seen him smile so much without Sarah around," he says, the moment Joel's out of earshot, giving you a nudge and another fond smile. "Y'know, I think he might like you."

"Mm, I think I might like him too."

Small talk with Tommy is easy - the man's a talker, if you ever met one. He's a charmer too, and if you met him in a bar you might think he'd be coming on to you with the way he so attentively talks to you, only directing his attention elsewhere for the briefest of moments.

"What's with the outfits?" you eventually ask, with a flick to his striped top hat. "Joel never said it was a dress up party."

"Oh it ain't, this is just a family tradition. Dad always used to dress up in dumb shit for the holidays, make us laugh, and it just sorta stuck. 'Course, added in some friendly competition over the years too, and then this," he says with a dramatic sweep down his body, "was born."

"Competition?"

"Mhm. Joel'll tell you, won't you brother?" Tommy says with a wink over your head before ducking sideways to raid the snack table.

"What am I s'posed to tell you?" he says, handing you your drink, letting his fingers linger near yours and stroke a trail of burning heat gently up your arm before falling back to his pocket.

"The competition."

"S'easy. Stars or stripes," Joel points to himself, decked out in stars and then to his brother where he stands loudly chatting to yet more guests in his candy stripes. "You gotta pick. Most votes, wins."

"I've got to pick?"

"'s the rules, darlin'."

"So you want me to pick between you, or some costumed guy I don't know - a practical stranger?" you say, with a glint in your eye, watching Joel's face drop in faux offence.

"You wouldn't."

"Don't underestimate me, Joel. I think you know exactly what I'm capable of."

Your eyes meet in a silent stalemate, the glint in your eye never leaving as Joel bites at his cheek to hold back a laugh. Tommy was right - you do like Joel, some days too much, and moments like right now, you think maybe it's reciprocated, and you like him just the right amount.

Poking him in the chest, finger pressed to the middle of one of the sea of stars decorating his body, you let yourself break first. "Stars, Joel. I pick stars."

With a roll of his eyes, and a kiss pressed lightning quick to the side of your head, Joel's hand winds back around your back.

"Thank fuck for that. Let's get you a votin' card so you can make that official."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

As the evening draws on, you think you've talked to just about everyone in your street several times over, and then some. It also turns out that Joel and Tommy take their little competition very seriously, and always have, if your neighbors are to be believed.

By the time the votes have been counted and Joel in his star spangled outfit is declared the winner, Tommy has sunk to his knees, his hat toppled off in his despair as he hangs his head in shame.

You're still listening to them bicker as you sneak off to use the bathroom, their voices only disappearing when you've slid the patio door shut and taken your first official step into Joel's house.

"The headband swung it."

"The headband is Sarah's, and your massive skull is breakin' it..."

Even through the mess of the party, you can see that this place is distinctly Joel, with hints of a 10 year old girl dotted around the place. From the pictures on the wall to the cushions on the sofa - mostly a rich navy, but one soft pink nestled in with the blue - through to small ornamental carvings on a side table and the drawings stuck on the refrigerator.

You're looking at one - not a masterpiece by any means, but very decent attempt at a bluebonnet - when the pressure inside the house changes again with the slide of the door.

It's Joel, arms laden with bottles, and the headband flopping forward pathetically on his head. "You snuck off quick," he says, dumping the bottles onto the counter. "Get lost findin' the bathroom?"

"Distracted. Never had chance to sneak around your house looking at your shit before," you quip with a smile, trying to get comfortable with the very uncomfortable thing that brought you two together in the first place.

"Then shoes off. Lemme take you upstairs, give you a little tour, and you can use the bathroom up there. Probably in a better state than the one down here now anyway."

He holds your hand in his all the way up the stairs. That something rears its head again, igniting your palm where it meets his, your brain not registering a single word he says as he points to various doors before dragging you through one, into his bedroom.

His lips are on yours immediately - or yours are on his. You can't quite work out who started it, you just know that you're a tangle as your hands roam each other, biting and licking kisses into each others mouths. His hand finds your ass, and you're moaning as he presses you forward, into him, and the soft lump in his pants. You want to grind yourself against him, but the angle isn't right, and a nagging forgotten thing is worming through your brain when Joel pushes your bodies together once more.

Oh. Right. You remember now.

"Joel - mmph - Joel," you say with urgency through his kisses. He pulls back, searching your face with panic and a pinched brow. "I really gotta pee."

With a kiss to your forehead he lets you go, pushing you toward his ensuite. When you exit a few minutes later, he's exactly where you left him, stood with his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish as he possibly ever could.

"I'm glad you came," he says, looking at you and setting that something off roaring through your body again.

"Me too. I... I've had a nice time."

"Just wanted you to know I didn't invite you here just for, y'know," he says, with a gesture to his bed. "Didn't bring you in here for it either. Just, sorta missed you. Not used to not bein' alone with you. It's weird sharin' you."

You don't want to remind him you've barely left each others sides all night. You don't want to draw too much attention to the something, just in case you scare it away.

"Damn. Got nothing for me? Nothing at all?" you joke instead.

"Got nothin'. Nothin' planned anyway," he says with a look around the room, his eyes focussing briefly on a drawer before flicking back to you.

Really, you should be leaving space between you and Joel. Space for the something to flourish, space that is just enough to not magnetize your body to his, smashing yourselves together and turning the nothing into something. What you should do doesn't have the power to stop your feet from slowly pulling you toward him again though. And it doesn't stop you from putting both your hands on his chest when you finally reach him.

"No? Got no magic tricks up your sleeve? I was hoping for a wand or a rabbit or somethin', you do look like you ran away from the circus."

"I'll have you know this shirt is the finest polyester you can find at Party City."

"Mm, sounds sweaty."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"So you're sweaty and gross, and you have nothing to wow me with? I'm starting to wonder why you invited me." Which is a lie. You know why, and so does he, and you're glad for it, even if it still frightens you to think about it too much. You suspect he knows an awful lot more about you than you've told him. He's perceptive like that.

"Maybe I'm retractin' your invite."

"You wouldn't."

"No?"

"What if I've got a little something for you instead, am I still invited now?"

Joel's eyes light up and soften all at once, turning so bright and sparkling you think he might cry. It's not exactly that you've never done anything for him in the ways he has for you. When he mentioned his favorite snack, you got some in the house for nights you spend watching a movie before devolving into fucking on the floor. You bought new lingerie, which only ever stayed on if it was too difficult to get out of, and once or twice he'd caught you wearing the heart shaped butt plug before leaping on you and pounding you into whatever surface was nearest, thumb pressing down on the base and making you see stars.

Still, for all you had done, you never swapped positions in the little game you'd been playing with each other for over seven months. Each time, he was the one who came to you with some silly thing or trick or toy to tease you with, and each time you loved it. You hoped he would love this too.

"You do?"

"Mhm," you say as you put some distance between the two of you again. Space to breath, space to move, space to let the something calm back down into the pit of your stomach and curl in on itself like a cat settling down to sleep.

Your let your fingers glide up your body, gently pulling your skirt for a moment before they coast up your belly and reach your shirt, flirting with the hem before curling around it and tugging, letting your tits jiggle behind the fabric.

With a final soft tug, you peel the fabric up your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out the bottom of your top.

"Holy shit, baby," he says, a whisper of a moan on his lips. His eyes have been glued to you, wide and curious, ever since you suggested you may have something for him. And now, they're darting from your chest to your face then back down, taking in the sight of your covered nipples.

You had made some choices earlier today, in your nervous state. Going braless was only one of them. The pasties too, were another. And then, there was the shape. You has flowers, hearts, circles, straight tape and, finally, stars. It was a no brainer when you'd rifled through the packet for two that matched that white stars were the perfect choice for today. It'd only really occured to you when Joel had worn his own stars, that you were perhaps better matched today than you thought, that maybe you could have your own little game with him for once.

"Told you I was all in on the stars."

"Damn right you are," he says as he approaches, his hands finding their place on your waist, itching to move upward. "They don't hurt?"

"They're just pasties, Joel. They're soft. Feel."

And fuck, does he feel. His hands cup you, gently squeezing the softest part of your breast before letting his thumbs dance across where the pucker of your nipple should be. The sensation is muted, infuriatingly muffled by the feel of the pasties covering you.

"S'good?"

"Imagine I stroked your dick over your pants. It's good but it's not the same."

"Damn," he curses, thumbs still gently rubbing over your nipples, watching them slowly come to life and prickling beneath the coverings. "They come off easy?"

"Like a bandaid."

"Shit."

And you just know what he's thinking, because you're thinking it too. There's no real way you can take them off right now and let Joel have his way with your nipples like you're both desperate for, even if time and the swathe of people downstairs wasn't an issue. You have nothing else to cover up with and the soft breeze combined with the cold drinks and the age of some of the guests here means it's probably not a good idea to go without them.

That doesn't stop Joel from kissing you again though, more restrained than he has any right to be with your tits in his hands. You know from his frustrated groan when you bite at his bottom lip that he's two seconds away from telling everyone the parties over, only to come back up here and continue with a party for just two.

To your surprises, he pulls your top back down. Not before kissing one breast, then the other, then back to the first. You know he wants to sink his face into them, but he doesn't let himself, and he rises from his crouch with a groan and pulls you out of the room.

"Don't show Tommy," Joel whispers to you as you make your way back down the stairs. "He'll say the contest was rigged."

"Damn, I was so hoping to show your brother my nipples."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

Joel's eyes keep flicking to your chest for the rest of the night. More than once he drags you away inside, either upstairs or into the garage, just to ask you to show him one more time. If you weren't covered, your nipples would have been rubbed and pinched raw by his eager fingers by now, just as your lips were swollen by his eager mouth.

By the time it's all over, you're positively exhausted, propping yourself up on the arm of a chair and talking to Tommy as Joel waves off the last of the guests and closes the back gate.

You had barely left his side all night, and if anyone had anything to say about it, you hadn't heard it. Neither had Joel. And Tommy, a clever man when he wanted to be, hadn't made a single joke about it either. All in all, it was as much of a successful day than you could hope for, initial nerves aside.

Tommy, continuing to be a clever man, doesn't put up much of a fight when you offer to be the one to stay behind and help clear up. Of course, he's already gone around and collected most of the trash, and put the leftover food inside, but he relents at your insistence he head home - you do only live down the street after all.

Neither you or Joel get much further with the cleaning. Once trash bags are dumped in the garage and you've both washed up, his hands are back under your top, damp fingers cupping your breasts and pulling you back into him.

"Stay?" he asks, as if there was any other ending to this night, as if Tommy hadn't left precisely for this reason.

You barely agree by the time his mouth is latched onto your neck, drawing unrestrained moans out of you right there in the kitchen now that you're finally alone.

His hands, of course, find their way back up to your top, stroking over the edge of the pasties once more.

"You really like 'em, huh?" you ask as his thumb brushes the edge of one, starting to curl and pull the point of one of the stars.

"Like that we match. Feel like you picked 'em for me," he mumbles into your neck, releasing one breast and tucking his hand into the waistband of your skirt. "Like that I've had somethin' to think about, somethin' to play with, even with all these people here."

Fuck, if you haven't liked that too. Letting him play had been one of the highlights of your night so far. Being manhandled into the garage, giggling and pushing Joel as he clasped his hands together in a plea to please see your tits. The souvenir love bite you'd let him suck into your left breast after dragging you back upstairs for a second time. You'd spent half the night flipping between Joels hands and mouth on your tits, to being dragged back out to socialize. Your pussy had given up trying to regulate itself after the third session of Joel's teasing, and you'd spent the rest of the evening wet and waiting.

This is a fact he finds out now, as he slides his hand down over your mound to cup you over your panties. You both let out the same curse as he presses and wiggles his fingers back and forth over you, rubbing your clit over your underwear. You had hoped to peel the pasties off before you fucked him, giving him full access to your nipples for the first time tonight, but you don't think you're going to make it that far, not now his hand is pulling your panties aside, feeling for the slick wetness between your lips and dragging it up, up, up to swirl around your clit.

Not a second later you're scaling the stairs for what you know will be the final time that day, this time you dragging Joel as you both kick of your shoes and stumble up the steps. You already ache from all the standing, and if you have it your way, your legs are going to be shaking and trembling too much for the rest of the night to possibly be of use to you.

With his door pushed open, left wide now the house is empty, you pull yourself back into him, only for him to slip his still wet finger between your lips, letting you taste yourself before he captures your mouth, licking your taste from your own tongue.

Then, your hands find his chest, that ridiculous shirt, and pull at it, tugging the fabric taught to his body, eager to get it off and tumble into his sheets with him.

You were right about how sweaty he'd be under the shirt when you finally get your fingers on the buttons, working your way down until you can pull it off. He's shining underneath it, the dark hair of his body slicked down as you drag your hands up over his chest, to his shoulders and then down to his belt.

He suddenly stops you, pulling your hands away, pressing kiss after kiss to your mouth as he fumbles with the buckle. In a huff, after a few failed, distracted, attempts, he pushes you away and pulls off his belt before unzipping his pants.

Joel has barely tugged them down his legs when you're staring wide eyed, howling with laughter, staring directly at his cock. Only, this time, it stares back.

At least, the bald eagle on the front of his boxers does.

"What are those?"

"Nothin'," Joel says, covering himself and trying to tug his boxers over his erection with one hand still trying to pull off his pants. Grabbing his hands, you stop him, pleading as you tug them away from his crotch.

"Show me."

"Look, s'nothin. Just another stupid thing Tommy got me and I thought it'd be funny but..."

"Sure looks like you got somethin' there for me. All this time you were sayin nothin'. Don't tell me you're getting shy on me now. C'mon. Please."

You pout, trying desperately to get him to give in when you have an idea and you're tugging your top off over your head and throwing it to the side, brandishing your star covered nipples to him once more.

"Pretty please," you say with a small shimmy, and Joel's hand immediately falls away, coming up instead to cover his eyes with a sigh.

It's a sight to behold. Really, it is. The eagle is staring back at you once again, still bolstered by Joel's solid length and the heft of his balls behind it. What you hadn't noticed before is it's sitting on a canvas of United States flag, stars and stripes covering his thighs, his hips, his ass.

"Oh wow. Joel those are -" you cough out a laugh "- those are amazing."

He's rolling his eyes. You can hear it in his voice and see it in his posture. "Yeah, real funny, I know."

"No, I like them. Very festive. And y'know what," you say, cupping his cock right over the eagle print of his boxers as you clear your throat. "I pledge allegiance -"

"No, don't you d-"

"- to these balls -"

"Stop."

"- and the cock they sit under -"

"Oh my god," he says, fighting through a laugh, your fingers squeezing and massaging as you pledge yourself, whole heartedly, to the appendage in your hand.

" - one - uh, cock and balls? Is there even a collective word for cock and balls? - under Joel -"

"It's just gettin' worse."

"- definitely indivisible, no divisible balls here - "

"You're killin' me."

"- say it with me now - with liberty and justice for balls."

You try to keep a straight face as you finish. Really you do. But as Joel's whole body shakes and ripples, his balls jiggling in your hand as laughter wracks through him, you can't help but fall into him, letting yourself be propped up by him as you crumple in on yourself in delight.

"You callin' my balls Liberty and Justice now?" Joel finally says through a laugh.

You slide a finger up the leg of his boxers, pulling gently on them as you stare down at the flag adorning his ass and balls.

"Yep. You're Star Spangled Joel with your side kicks, Liberty and Justice."

You give his balls a little squeeze again as you name them.

"Now that you pledged your allegiance, you gonna keep yappin' or you gonna prove it?"

But it's too late, because you're already sinking to your knees, right there in his bedroom, a place you both know you're going to wake up in the morning, wrapped in each other as the sunlight peeks through the curtains.

"Just try to stop me."

next part

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[dwaekkicidal]

The Party

˚ʚPerv!Emo!Han Jisung x Cutesy!Fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Fourth part of 'The Incidents' Series; based off of this ask.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: told from his pov, jisung is a huge perv/creep, alcohol consumption (reader gets "drunk" and ji had a few sips), dubcon/noncon, exhibitionism, mean-ish jisung, degradation, name calling (use of whore and ji calls reader a stupid cry baby once lol), nipple play (f), grinding, cumming in underwear (both), Jisung carries reader on his back at the end

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: Italics are Han's thoughts! also the picture is just a reference for the outfit i had in mind :)

The Incidents Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Han stares up in awe at the giant house before him. It’s in a rich neighborhood not far out of town and he easily recognizes the expensive and shiny cars as belonging to some of the well-off kids. They flaunt them everywhere so it’s hard not to recognize them.

He glances down at his text messages, rereading the instructions you sent while nervously fiddling with the collar of his leather jacket. She said just to let myself in… He slowly walks up the walkway of the house, laughing to himself in disbelief at how loud the music is being played. He could hear it loud and clear from inside the damn taxi.

When he finally gets to the porch he sends you a text and opens the door hesitantly, only opening it a few inches to squeeze in without bringing too much attention to him. Once he closes the door and turns, his jaw drops. The inside is huge and has at least 50 people in the living room alone, let alone to giant crowd he can see in the kitchen and hallways. A familiar head pokes out of the kitchen and rushes towards him, a big smile on his face.

Han recognizes the boy as Yeonjun, a tall guy who he used to have dance class with in high school, and who shares a few mutual friends. He smiles back, waving shyly as the boy takes long strides up to him. “Yo!! Han! Nice to see you, man. Y/N told me you were coming but I didn’t think I’d see it haha.” Han chuckles and nods, “I didn’t think I was gonna come either, but she asked so...”

Yeonjun wraps an arm around his neck and leads him around the house, giving him a small tour as they seek out the girl in question together. The taller boy stops occasionally at little tables with snacks and drinks, making sure Han is taken care of before marching onwards in search of those bouncy pigtails. The kindness is more than welcome but Jisung is far from his comfort zone and can't help but chat timidly. He was going to give up and attempt to call her, but suddenly he heard a squeal from his left.

He turns in time to see Y/N running up to him, dressed up in all white and somehow showing more skin than usual. Her shirt parts in multiple places, showing off her cleavage and some side boob as well as her tummy. And no bra..? Is she nuts? His eyes flicker to the thin string that holds the top together and he can feel his eye twitch.

A hand on his shoulder cuts him out of his trance, almost making him fall from the sudden weight. Yeonjun leans in and chuckles, lowly whispering to Han as if anybody could hear them over the music. “She already had a few cups so good luck. If you thought she was touchy before, you can’t imagine how she gets when she drinks.” Han’s eyes widen at the warning, but before he has time to ask what he meant Yeonjun is already gone. The feeling of a body clutching onto his arm has him turning back the opposite way, taking in the rest of her features as she mumbles words at him.

“My goshh~ I didn’t think you’d actually come, Sungie... ‘Missed you soooo much. hehe...” He chuckles and cringes, not sure how to respond. However, he’s not even given a chance to because she starts dragging him down the hallway to the game room where some of her friends are grouped.

About 3 hours pass before Jisung finally settles in, still very uncomfortable but slowly opening up to some of the people there. Y/N had a cup and a half more before everybody began sneaking her water meanwhile Jisung was still on his first cup, only having taken a few sips. He’s too busy zoned out and staring at the floor to realize that they’re almost alone, his mind too busy over the white lace garter that decorates the thigh of his love interest. He’s leaning back on one of the leather couches in the game room, and aside from the few random people who are spread around busy playing their games, or sucking each other's faces, it’s fairly vacant.

Then the song blasting throughout the house suddenly changes to a new one. A slow sensual one that, if he wasn’t so preoccupied, would’ve made him uncomfortable from the sheer seductiveness of it. But this poor little emo boy only realizes once it’s too late: once two hands covered by those familiar white arm warmers rest on his lower tummy. He tenses up and his face darts up to stare at the girl, almost offendedly. Even from this distance, he can smell the sugary sweet sangria on her breath and, for once in his life, the idea of her touching him makes him uneasy.

Y/N smiles, bites her lip, and crawls on top of him, planting a knee on either side of his hips. She leans in until their noses almost touch and Han has half the mind to back away as much as possible. But she only pushes further until she's almost completely pressed up against him. Her hips press down and she looks up at him from under her eyelashes.

His hard-on is resting perfectly against her mound. There’s no way she doesn’t feel that. His brain fries and he stutters out her name in confusion, putting his hands on either side of her shoulders to hold her back. She ignores him completely in favor of slowly running her hands up his stomach and to his chest, pulling the chain around his neck so that he leans into her.

She giggles at his reaction and lowers her hands onto his, pushing them back and lower to rest on her ass, where she then leaves them and wraps her hands around his neck. Those glossy lips of hers are caught between her teeth as she leans into him, her voice low and seductive. “Sungie~” He doesn’t try to move his hands, why would he? He’s enjoying himself. But he does slightly freak out at the thought of people walking in and seeing a freak like him groping the hottest girl on the planet. “What are you doing?!” He looks around the room to make sure there are no prying eyes but her smooth voice drags his attention back to her.

“C’mon~~ Don’t you think I'm pretty?” Her flushed cheeks are almost unnoticeable in the dim lighting but boy does he see it. Their lips ghost and he feels his dick twitch in his jeans when he feels some of her lip gloss get transferred to him. Fuck. I was doing so well today too… “Don’t you want me?” Her voice lowers with each word until she’s whispering against his lips, finally pushing her own against his. His heart beats out of his chest but he lets his eyes close and his hands move up to her waist as he reciprocates the kiss. Her tongue pokes out in an attempt to deepen the kiss and he reluctantly lets it happen. His head spins when their tongues clash and he finds himself losing control when her lip gloss smudges all over their chins. Holy shit... She tastes like strawberries... 

Eventually, they pull away to breathe but she wastes no time and dips down to his neck, leaving sloppy kisses along his Adam's Apple as she mumbles incoherent sentences against it. If the slurring of her words wasn’t enough to discourage him, the recalling of his earlier conversation was. The uneasy feeling from earlier is quickly forgotten when Yeonjun’s voice replays in his head. His hand roughly digs into her hair and pulls her away so that she’s sitting up straight. The moan it pulls from her only makes him harder.

“You know… Yeonjun warned me about how touchy you are when you drink. You do this with every man you get your little hands on?” He whispers against her ear. “N-No only for you, Sungie. I promise~” She pouts and he narrows his eyes at her, not believing it for even a second. “Yeah? Then why does he seem so familiar with how you’re acting right now? You probably whore out every time they have one of these parties. Am I supposed to be your next victim?” Hell. I don’t think I’d even mind being a victim to her.

She whimpers and frowns, shaking her head rapidly and unintentionally rubbing herself harder against his hard-on. He closes his eyes to focus on breathing; while this newfound confidence is nice, he doesn’t think it’s enough to push any further than this, so he just doesn’t respond. Instead choosing to stay quiet and let his other hand squeeze the fat of her thighs, engraving the feeling in his mind. Who knows when I’ll get another chance like this? Might as well take advantage of it too... He knows he shouldn’t. She’s drunk for fucks sake! But GOD does she look so good like this... On my lap, all desperate for me.

The hold on her hair is loosened as he lets his hands roam all over her body. They start at her thighs: running his fingers over the flesh there softly before flattening his palms against her ass and squeezing them, spreading them apart in the process. He glances up at her shutting eyes and nodding head, thinking to himself for a second as he mindlessly fondles her ass. He wonders just how far he can get before she sobers up. She’s gonna fucking hate me... But also, she looks so drunk that she might not even notice. OR remember for that matter.

With every passing second he feels his morals fading away until he eventually decides that today is the day he gives no fucks. Let her find out. Fuck it. His hands move up to her hips again and pull her down, dragging her clothed pussy over his bulge like she was doing earlier. She sighs and closes her eyes all the way, spreading her knees to allow him to pull her farther down. He bites his lip and looks around, staring intensely at the last 2 people in the room who were too busy sucking each other’s faces off to notice his actions. A whimper of his name pulls his attention back to the girl above him. His hooded eyes meet hers as she stares down at him, the neediness painfully obvious. He smirks and tilts his head, playing dumb as she starts to move her hips on her own again.

“Hmm? What’s wrong Y/N?” His hands trail down her thighs and he licks his lips as he stares down at them. His pointer finger and thumb rub the fabric of her lace garter as he waits patiently for her to respond. When she doesn’t he pulls the elastic back, letting it snap against her soft skin there. It pulls a delayed squeak from her and he continues to smirk cockily. The hand moves back up and plays with the hem of her skirt. He can faintly see the dark colored panties she has on and he’s itching to see it. He glances up to see her eyes fluttering open and closed again. She won’t notice...

Then he grabs the fabric and pushes it up against her tummy. He holds it there as he peeks between her legs, watching her pretty panties soak more and more as she pushes down more against him. Her pretty, red panties. You fucking whore.. The hand resting on her ass rises and comes down, slapping the bare flesh there meanly and pulling a shriek from her. “You planned this shit, didn’t you? Asked me for my favorite color just to wear some slutty panties to entice me?” And they’re fucking sheer again. She looks down at him with watery eyes and whines, placing her hand on his shoulder as her hips continue to move. The silence that follows is all the answer he needs. 

He snakes his right hand up her body, stopping at her chest and pinching her nipples through the thin fabric. “Stupid little crybaby... Slutting yourself out for anybody who will give you the time of day.” The hand comes down on her ass again and her hips falter. “Did I say you could stop?” Her head rolls and she continues instantly; he can feel her obedience awakening something new in him.

His right hand slides through the top hole of her shirt to grab a handful of her boob, squeezing it as he leans in. He licked her other nipple through the fabric, sucking and nibbling it as her hips continued to rut against him. Eventually, though, the fabric was preventing him from feeling her up properly and it irritated him to no end. The alcohol in his system tells him to rip it open, but the sober side of him shuts the idea down instantly, so he grabs the top string of her shirt, pulling it roughly and freeing her chest to the cold air in the game room. She gasps and tries to cover herself with her arms but he grabs both of her wrists before she can. “Don’t even think about it. You wanted to act like a whore so I'm treating you like one.” He pushed her arms out of the way and grabbed handfuls of her chest with both hands, aggressively massaging the mounds of fat as if proving his point.

He leans back in, releasing the death-grip on one of her boobs and wrapping those pretty pink lips around her bare nipple. His now free hand moves to her ass, slapping the skin before grabbing her hip and grinding her harder against him. Her hands trail into his hair, grabbing handfuls and tugging it as she moans loudly. “S-Sungie! Ahh~” Her sweet voice crying out his name was the last thing he needed to send him over the edge, and the hands in his hair gripped tighter as she came with him, both of their faces scrunching up in pleasure as he continued to move her hips against him and lick her nipple.

Eventually, they both finish riding out their highs and she sleepily wraps her arms around his neck and hides her face in the crook of his neck. He let her stay there as he caught his breath, hands rubbing up and down her back soothingly. He very quickly hears soft snores coming from her and gets up, laying her softly on the couch as he does so. Standing in the same place she was just 10 minutes ago gives him the perfect view to stare down at her, mind boggled at the way she still looks so hot despite being completely ruined.

Her lip gloss was smeared all over the lower part of her face and her lips themselves were swollen and red. Her shirt was still spread wide open, letting anybody who walked in see her pretty tits. His eyes traced the red marks he left against the pudgy skin there as her chest rose and fell with her breaths. Her one nipple had a pretty red tint on it from his insistent suckling. Her skirt hung loosely around her waist, rising with each breath and giving him the perfect view of her panties that were now darkened from her cum. Now I get to see it in real-time.. haha…

Pride filled his chest as the realization hit that he did this. Not Yeonjun. Not Juwon. Not one of those stupid ass frat boys. Me. The post-nut clarity and sudden soberness were almost enough to send him spiraling as another realization filled his head. The realization of what these emotions meant. Feeling jealousy at the thought of other guys touching her and happiness at the feeling of being the one to make her cum in her little red panties. Before he could dwindle further, the girl whined from her spot on the couch before yawning loudly and stretching. Then her sleepy voice filled his ears, “‘Wanna go home Sungie..”

By the time he fixes her outfit, she's fast asleep. Jisung puts her on his back and piggybacks her through the hallways and down the stairs. As the sole of his boots landed on the expensive tile, he quickly realized that nobody was around. The previously packed living room and kitchen were now left in a giant mess and it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. He had so many questions but opted to ignore them for now and adjusted the girl on his back, inching her farther up so that he didn’t drop her.

As he stepped onto the front porch, he was met with a familiar face. Yeonjun cackled out loud at the sight of them, startling the boy and almost waking the sleeping beauty on his back. “You guys are still here? I thought you took her home ages ago??” Yeonjun smiled at him, watching Han breathe deeply to calm the heart attack that he almost had. “Just take her to your house, man. None of her roommates are going home tonight so she’ll be locked out if you go to her place.”

Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at the taller boy, “Are... Are you sure?”

“Yeah, she trusts you. And would you rather her sleep in your bed or her apartment hallway where anybody could take advantage of her?” Jisung visibly gulps and nods silently, pushing past the taller boy to meet the taxi that slowly pulled up behind him. He settles her in carefully, almost lovingly, and walks to the opposite side to join her in the back seat. He waved awkwardly at Yeonjun, who watched them and waved with a menacing smile on his face. 

As Yeonjun waved them away he smirked to himself. “That little minx... She’s got him wrapped around her finger haha.”

Taglist: (purple=can't be tagged)

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina @rylea08

@grandma143 @caught-in-the-afterglow @yaorzu-blog @jabmastersupriseee

@easypeezylemonsquezy @iiriam @soaplickerrr @kimahreummm

@seungfl0wer @4l17h4 @moonlightshostage @whyisaah

@lostgirlinthewoodss @kookiesbunny @piscesrising01 @adollsmind

@iheartbangch4n @evan-rose @klyde06 @ihrtlino @shuporanporang

@zerefdragn33l @sailor--sun

[kykyonthemoon]

One Summer Day

A road trip, a summer festival, childhood popsicles and Zayne. You have captured the essence of summer in your hands.

── .✦ Zayne x Female Reader (MC)

── .✦ Tags: R16 - MNDI, suggestive themes, summer, vacation, festival, use of Japanese culture and words, fluff, sweet, established relationship.

── .✦ Word count: 2k6

── .✦ Ky Ky's notes: This piece is inspired by Zayne’s text (Top Prize) after completing his story in Adventure above the Clouds event.

Misty Invasion Fan Art Contest Entry - Please support me on X!

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

You stood under your porch with all enthusiasm, feet tiptoeing up and down, eyes fixed on the impending cars. When you recognized Zayne's familiar transport, the smile on your lips immediately spread like flower petals.

“Why are you out here? Didn't we agree to meet inside first?" Zayne inquired as he assisted you in loading the luggage into the back of the car.

"I saved Doctor Zayne the trouble." You responded. That was only half of the truth; the rest was because you were so eager to begin this journey that you rolled about in bed all night thinking about it. This morning, you awoke before the alarm went off. Because your luggage was little, you went downstairs to wait. That way, neither of you would have to waste any more time and could depart right away.

Zayne grinned as if he understood what you were saying and opened the car door to invite you in. Then he sat in the driver seat. The first song on your pre-selected list began to play, and with all your impatience, the three-hour long journey to the predetermined destination began.

Not long after the vehicle drove away, Zayne noticed a rustling close to him. You were opening the package for a snack you had recently enjoyed. Zayne laughed as his car came to a stop at a red light. He turned to face you and said:

“We've only been gone for five minutes and you're already hungry?”

You took a piece of snack and fed it to Zayne, replying:

“For you.”

He obediently took a mouthful while still staring at you, who was beaming with your snack bag. A few curls of hair had fallen on your cheeks, and he tucked them behind your ear. Zayne used the chance to gently stroke your face.

"Someone was so happy that she was unable to rest last night, right?"

You hastily checked the rearview mirror of the car. Aside from appearing too eager, a closer look would expose the weariness from lack of sleep around your eyes.

"Are you sure that person isn't Doctor Zayne?" You commented. Even though he had caught you red-handed, you would continue to deny it.

"Then there were two people who could not sleep last night." You were not prepared for Zayne to admit it so soon. You spotted his brilliant smile just as the green light went on and he shifted his concentration to the road ahead.

Zayne stated that if you were weary, you could take a nap in the car and he would wake you up at the destination. Nonetheless, you were determined to remain awake the whole journey. Every time the car came to a halt at a red light, you swiftly fed him some snacks. Zayne, in return, clasped his hands around yours. You would occasionally hum along to the music being played and see that Zayne was enjoying it. Was it the song or your voice? His fingers on the steering wheel moved gently with the rhythm, as did his head and neck, as if he were swaying to the melodies. But every time he recognized you gazing and was about to say something to tease him, Zayne claimed to be in the dark and made an insignificant remark: "Your taste in music is acceptable."

You burst into laughter. When you were together, he must have heard those songs so many times that he knew them by heart. Zayne frequently took you on outings, but this one was different. He won a lottery at Akso Hospital, resulting in a two-day, three-night vacation for a couple. Although you guessed that everyone had given Doctor Zayne the jackpot after seeing how hard he worked day and night, you were nonetheless overjoyed to be able to accompany him like this.

Zayne was the one to plan everything ahead, always had been. However, you were constantly thinking about all that may happen, while you were both thrilled and anxious. This vacation marked a significant step forward in your relationship; how could you not pay attention to every little thing? You wanted all to be perfect so Zayne could enjoy an unforgettable getaway.

But such things might have to wait a little longer. Your eyes began to close around halfway through and after you had consumed all of the treats. You had a strange feeling Zayne was adjusting the seat to make you more comfortable. He softly touched your palm, saying something like, "Yet someone insisted that she wasn't sleepy..." Then you fell into a deep slumber.

After a series of short, strange dreams, including one where Doctor Zayne transformed into a big cat, you were awakened by a cold touch on your cheek.

“We're here.” Zayne's voice rang out, and all of your weariness vanished as you saw the small, lovely village stretch out in front of you, embracing the foot of the mountain. You hastily exited the car. The fresh wind carried the welcome aroma of grass and trees, making you feel delighted.

It was already past midday when you arrived at the resort. After a light meal, Zayne and you checked in. It was a modest room only enough for a couple with complete facilities, including a tatami-covered floor and a sleeping mattress for two people, known as a futon. The room was simply designed, yet it felt airy and close to nature. Zayne claimed that his prize included the most adorable suite at the resort, which was not an exaggeration at all. Large wooden and matte paper doors opened into the serene alpine view that surrounded the room. Outside was a steaming onsen, and the afternoon sunshine falling on the bottom shimmered like precious gemstones, so it was inevitable that it would be the first thing to attract your attention when you arrived. There was nothing better than being able to soak it up at night and gaze at the stars.

However, you briefly resisted the impulse to soak in it right away because when you opened the wardrobe, you discovered two folded yukata sets waiting for you and Zayne. It was no surprise since you overheard him discussing your clothing size with the resort personnel prior to your arrival. You turned your head back to peer at Zayne, who was averting his gaze, but his brilliant expression indicated that he had planned all of this for you.

The yukata he had chosen for you was light blue, embellished with white jasmine pattern. You enthusiastically tried it on yourself. But even with a handbook in the room explaining how to wear it, you struggled and failed to put it correctly. You sighed and requested assistance from Zayne on the opposite side of the folding screen which divided the dressing space in two. 

“Doctor Zayne… I must have done something wrong…”

“Wait for me.”

His voice sounded out. A second later, he emerged from the opposite side of the screen. Zayne put on a yukata that was a much darker shade of blue than yours, dotted with a silver swallow pattern. As soon as you saw him, so perfect in the kind of outfit he had tried for the first time, you lost your breath. It was not until Zayne came closer to fix your dress that you recovered your composure.

“You've put on the wrong layers.” He said gently. “Let me fix it.”

Thus you stood motionless, arms wide out so Zayne could effortlessly alter your attire. Layer upon layer, one by one. It was not surprising to you that he was so skilled, given that this was your first time wearing a yukata together. Because, for you, Doctor Zayne's hands were a divine tool capable of assisting you in all you lacked. After your outfit was complete, the same hands assisted you in combing your hair and placing a jasmine flower on your head.

“How do I look? Has Doctor Zayne overdone it a bit?”

You inquired while glancing in the mirror. Behind you, he grinned pleasantly. “Not at all.”

You carefully brushed the fabric jasmine blossom Zayne had just placed in your hair. True, he had put a lot of thought into this trip. You turned around to look at him, mumbling a "Thank you" before rewarding him with a kiss on the cheek.

When the two of you arrived at the street, the sky was already tinted with dusk. You softly held Zayne's hand and moved in modest steps. You were not entirely comfortable with the geta that went with your attire. He wore a pair similar to yours, yet you were the only one who struggled.

The festival in this little community grew busier at night. Laughter breathed life into the desolate mountains and hills. The street was illuminated by lanterns, and both sides of the sidewalk were lined with vendors offering crafts, traditional games, and foods with inviting fragrances. As a result, after every few steps, you drew Zayne into a food stall to try it out.

You ate so many dishes that your tummy was full, leaving no room for supper at the resort. However, when you arrived at an old popsicle stall, you pleaded that Zayne try it with you.

"This is just like when we were kids, right?" You gladly accepted the popsicle from Zayne's hand. He sat next to you on a bench along the woodland edge, away  from the festival noise. The aromatic popsicle looked quite good. You took a large bite and felt numb to the brain.

"Ugh…" You shouted. Zayne instantly reached out to rub your head and temples. He softly said: 

"For what reason are you so hasty when there's a popsicle? Are you still a three-year-old?"

You pouted, stared at him and snorted loudly. Zayne softly squeezed your face and added:

“Slow down. With me here, you don't have to worry about your popsicle melting."

"Sure." You nodded. Your gaze fell on the mint-flavored popsicle in Zayne's fingers. Then, as fast as lightning, you leaned down and took a mouthful. 

"You—" Zayne protested, but it was a bit too late. You giggled as your head became dizzy from a fresh brain freeze. 

He grumbled and proceeded to rub your head. After consuming the popsicle, you stated:

“That's my revenge on you for pinching my cheek! How dare you?”

Zayne clicked his tongue and shook his head playfully. "It seems that no matter how old you get, the way you eat popsicles still remains.”

After that, he placed his thumb in the corner of your lips, softly wiped away the smeared cream, then lingered there forever. His gaze was unable to depart your slightly opened ruby lips. Zayne leaned down to taste the popsicle flavor that persisted on the tip of your tongue.

“Hmm… This flavor combined with mint… It isn't bad at all…”

After the festival, you chose to wrap up the day in comfort by soaking in the onsen outside your bedroom. You removed your yukata and wrapped a towel over your body before stepping out into the warm night, which was filled with luminous stars above. Zayne was already soaking in the hot spring, the moonlight casting luscious honey dews on his bare back as he turned toward the chamber. You approached delicately and sat down to soak your feet in the warm water first.

Zayne turned back to gaze at you. Iridescent drops poured from his hair and flowed down his dominant chest; every muscle fiber that was usually hidden underneath discreet layers of clothing was now displayed before your eyes, even the scars running along his arms. Suddenly, you realized that the water in the onsen was hotter than intended.

“How are your feet?” Zayne questioned as he approached you. The water solely reached his waist, where he was covered in a towel. You replied:

“I feel better now. Those geta are probably not for me.” 

The sensation of Zayne's hand on your submerged feet startled you. He took your slightly red foot and gently rubbed it while keeping it under the water. He repeated the same thing with your other foot.

“By doing this, you will feel more comfortable,” said Zayne. You nodded firmly, eyes still fixed on his body. While he was massaging your feet, you kicked the water around, causing him extra soaked. Nonetheless, he simply wiped any water from his face and glanced at you in a patient manner, shaking his head slightly.

You giggled and continued to swing your leg harder. This time, he gently squeezed your ankle and said:

“Just now, someone complained about her feet hurting and insisted on being carried back here. Is she fully recovered by now? If that's the case, she doesn't need my care anymore."

His hands eased on you, yet you quickly wrapped your legs around Zayne's waist and pressed him closer. The bottom of the onsen seemed slippery, causing him to suddenly slide forward. He placed his hands on the ground so he would not tumble on you. His hot breath invaded your left ear. His body emitted a faint aroma of warm wood. Before your eyes, the water-soaked crook of his neck was revealed. Your nose gently rubbed against it.

“Who said she doesn't need your special care anymore?”

You nuzzled him, arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. Zayne's breathing became heavier. He maintained his balance, although it was difficult to remove himself from you while you were this close to him. The sweet fruity scent emanating from you was which he had become accustomed to these past few days.

“You're using that lotion again…” Every syllable that escaped his mouth was like fire pouring into your ears. You said quietly:

“Since you seem to appreciate it so much, I…”

Before you could finish your sentence, Zayne seized your waist and lifted you off the onsen edge. You could only lean your body absolutely into his chest, legs clamped securely around his waist to keep from falling, despite the fact that he held you extremely firm in place. Zayne pushed his face against your neck, hungrily devouring the sweet scent flowing from there. His lips pressed lengthy, scorching kisses against your neck, shoulders, and chest.

"Z-Zayne…" You tenderly called his name. Your hand on his neck softly pushed him away. The thin smoke from the onsen veiled your vision, rendering everything as surreal as a dream. In the lake's heat and humidity, drops of perspiration and water ran from Zayne's temples to the back of his neck and torso. But no matter how much you resisted, he would not let go of you.

You lightly nipped his red ear. Only then did Zayne shift away from you, his expression showing astonishment mixed with a little hurt. Had he just done something that made you unsettling?

"Let me down first…" You murmured. Zayne held you with one arm, with the other hand softly drawing circles on the area of your back which was exposed from the towel. He tilted his head and whispered into your ear:

"This is also part of my special care. Are you certain you don't want it?"

His radiant eyes fixed on you, anticipating. You pursed your lips hard before deliberately pressing yourself closer to his body. 

“Of course… I want it…”

The corner of Zayne's mouth curled up slightly. He walked to a deeper part of the onsen, allowing both of you to plunge into the water, which became hotter with each touch. He kissed you. It began gently, like calm water; but over time it grew more intense, as if he was slowly melting with you. You always possessed the ability of exposing his deepest emotions and desires. Only you.

For, if he could control it, then it was certainly not love.

[jirsungs]

NO IDEA | 11. lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities?

word count: 2k words (soo... i might've gone over my planned number which was 1k...)

As soon as Donghyuck got the address of the man that shall not be named’s frat house, he jumped up from his bed. The sudden rustling noise of his panicking startles Renjun and Jaemin, who are scattered around his room. Renjun sat at Donghyuck’s PC desk and was originally trying to peacefully relax and build his Minecraft cottage house while Jaemin was busy munching on chips he stole from their snack stash and playing a game on his phone. 

“Jesus! Dude!”

Donghyuck ignores Renjun’s shriek, already rummaging through his closet (which was not the cleanest, but the messiest) for an acceptable “college frat party” outfit. 

“What’s up with him?” Jaemin mouths to the shorter male, which Renjun shrugs.

Both, now intrigued, remove their focus on their designated activities, and transfer it onto Donghyuck. “What’re you doing?” Renjun asks.

Donghyuck finally answers when he grabs out a gray hoodie, taking a quick whiff before putting it on. “Jeno texted about Hyunjin and Belle making out in a corner and—”

“Lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities?” Renjun interrupts. 

To this, Donghyuck frowns, and Jaemin only snickers at the reaction. “Hyuck, we’re messing with you. Go get your girl, man.” 

The former smiles. “Thanks, guys. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

Donghyuck’s pacing down the hallway to the door when one of the guys yells out, “And uh, if she pukes in Dongsookie, you’re cleaning it up!”

“Jun, what did I say about naming my car?!”

"Busy, can’t hear you!”

Rolling his eyes at Renjun’s obvious lie which was followed by Jaemin’s cackle, Donghyuck stands in front of the shoe rack. He’s about to put his foot into his shoe but stills himself for a moment. 

Is this the right move? What if she doesn’t want me there?

Before he can dwell too much on overthinking, his ringtone's annoying sound makes him jump in his spot. Is it a coincidence that you just happened to call him at this exact moment of his overthinking? He’s not sure, but the thought of it spreads a small smile when he sees your contact pop up.

“Hello?” He covers up his rapid breathing as if he wasn’t rushing to the door a few minutes prior.

“Donghyuckkk…”

The bumping background noise of the party music and your slurring words is all he can hear in his ear when he answers the phone, and Donghyuck doesn’t notice himself fanboying over how cute you are. He’s about to reply when you continue.

“Can yoooou… Pick… me up?”

“Y/N, how much did you drink, exactly?” The smile he’s wearing screams boyish; his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he anticipates your next reply.

“Pleaase…” With his question going unanswered, he decides not to push it.

“Alright, alright, wait for me. I’m on my way. Stay with your friends until I'm there, okay?”

The last thing he hears before you hang up is your little “Mhmm” before he hurriedly puts his shoes on, grabs his car keys, and exits out the door. 

“Sheesh, she’s cute.” 

Donghyuck finds himself fortunate that no one hears him giggling down the apartment hallway.

When Donghyuck drives up to the frat house, he observes the sight with a scowl on his face. It's your typical college party.

How do people enjoy this? How does Jeno enjoy this? He thinks.

Little did anyone know, he sometimes thinks he could enjoy it. But a drunk Y/N walking around in the party seemed like a more important issue to think about at the moment.

After playing out the multiple possible scenarios of what could happen when he walks into the party, he gains the courage to turn off the ignition. He exhales a deep breath before finally exiting his car. 

As soon as he opens the door, he knows he doesn’t fit in. The blasting music makes him cover his ears, and the sweaty bodies pushing into him have him holding his breath. Most importantly, he doesn’t love how people can tell he isn’t familiar with this type of environment because some partygoers side-eye him as he walks past, and even people he recognizes from class whisper to their friends. 

Luckily, he’s welcomed by Jeno once he walks a few steps into the frat. 

“Aye, Hyuck! You’re here!” Jeno’s pat on the back somehow made him ease up a bit.

“Hey, Jeno. Where’s—”

Wasting no time, Jeno, who already knows the end of his friend’s question, nods over to the living room, where Donghyuck catches a glimpse of you drunkenly dancing between two guys. He hates that he can’t detect their faces or how one of the guys is slowly dancing a little bit too close to you or the small fume of jealousy building in his chest, but that’s not important.

Still oblivious to Donghyuck shooting laser beams into the guys’ heads for being so close to you, Jeno continues, “Dude, at least try to look like you fit in. You look awkward as fuck.”

But all Jeno gets is a hit to his side, and he winces. “Alright. That was deserved.”

Noticing that Donghyuck’s mind is distracted, Jeno acknowledges the bitterness and chuckles at his friend. So, saying no more, he nudges Donghyuck further into the crowd.

“Stop stalling and make a move!”

Donghyuck looks like a lost puppy as he politely passes through the crowd. Or at least he tried to; most people couldn’t hear him over the god-awful music that was playing. Seriously though, who’s on Aux? But he listened to Jeno’s advice and continued to push through, not because he wanted to—well, he kind of did—but because he knew Jeno wouldn’t let him leave the house without you in his arms. 

He regrets making him his wingman. He’s kidding. Sorta.

He makes his way into the living room when he finally sees you. He’s glad to see that one of the guys he saw earlier isn’t dancing near you anymore, but the one he noticed getting closer to you was still in his spot. It was obvious the guy was trying to have you grind on him or something. He was clearly failing.

He’s also glad that he’s unfamiliar with the guy because a real problem could’ve started. But then again, it wasn’t like he had the balls to start a fight over this anyway. Still, it tempted him.

Donghyuck walks over to you and wraps his hand around your wrist, and you finally take notice of him. “Baby, you’re heree…” 

His ears perk up at the nickname, and so does the unknown guy who Donghyuck watches scoot farther and farther away. He squints, wondering how someone could be so pathetic to be trying to get something with a drunk girl, but he’s thankful he isn’t an asshole who doesn’t care about her having a (fake) boyfriend.

You leaning on his chest takes him back to the current situation, and one of his hands somehow lands on your back while the other rests on the side of your waist. To anyone else, he would look so physically stiff being this touchy with you, but you? You were too drunk out of your mind to notice a single thing.

“Uh… Um. Y/N, we,” He awkwardly clears his throat before he leans down to reach your ear. “We should go, angel?” His head tilts confusingly at how foreign that pet name sounded on his tongue.

Shit. Why do I sound so unsure right now?

He immediately covers it up: “I mean, yes, angel. That's the right one. But uh, we need to go.” 

He’s about to walk you out of the crowd, but you pull him back in. “Nooo, dance with me?”

You give him the prettiest puppy eyes you can muster, and in that small moment, Donghyuck realizes that he's just a man. A stupid whipped man.

But no, you're drunk. He can't get weak in the knees now.

“Y/N, you're drunk. You're literally tipping over right now.” 

“Am not.” Geez, the pout on your face just makes him want to kiss—

“Y/N, there you are!”

The new voice makes Donghyuck jump, his hands resting on your back and waist falter slightly. He was ready to run if the culprit was revealed to be Hyunjin, but to his luck, it wasn't.

Instead, it was,

“Yo, Chenle, what the hell! You can't just leave that girl hanging—”

Mark and Chenle. Great. This wasn't the first impression I had in mind.

Both boys, confused as ever, glance between you and Donghyuck. Chenle takes account of the placement of your fake boyfriend's hands on your body and smirks. 

Mark, being the saint he is, breaks the ice first. “You're Donghyuck, I assume?”

The said guy is about to answer when he glimpses down at you, and that's when he finds you completely knocked out on his chest. 

When he does, he sends an apologetic look to both of them, “Yeah, that's me. But um, I don't wanna seem rude, I know this is our first time meeting, but can you—can you guys help me get her to my car? Jeno called me about earlier, saying I should drive her home.”

Mark and Chenle exchange a look, almost as if they were mentally saying “he's a good one” to one another. Seeing that he quickly got their yeses brought some type of happiness and relief to his chest. He couldn't pinpoint it.

“Yeah, we can help.”

The moment Donghyuck succeeded in getting you inside your apartment was like a sigh of relief. He thanks Seulgi for being such an angel and lending him her spare key because he was well aware Yuqi was not going to. 

Was it difficult walking you out of Hyunjin's party? Yes. But watching you cutely stumble around the elevator on the way up and mumble gibberish made it all worth it.

He slips Seulgi's spare key onto the key hanger, his eyes not leaving your body as you walk around the living room unsteady. He smiles to himself when he watches you plop on the couch.

He's convinced you were knocked out again because of the decrease in mumbly sentences. So he's taken aback when he walks over to the couch to double-check to meet you with your eyes closed, but you cling onto his arm before he can leave. 

“Mm… Don't leave yet... I wan’ you heree…” You whine.

“Y/N, you’re drunk. Come on, let's get you to bed.”

“Ooh, the bed? Are we hitting third base already?” You tease, your eyebrows wiggling.

Even intoxicated and half asleep, she's still the same. An adorable pain in the ass. 

“Quit it, Y/N.” Despite his unimpressed tone, Donghyuck's cheeks still turn pink at your unexpected words, but he maintains his composure because he knows it's the intoxication talking. 

When he reaches under you to bridal carry you, he ignores the whiny protests that leave your mouth and is successful in holding you to your bedroom. He mentally reminds himself to thank you later on for Facetiming him so much when you needed extra help on certain math problems or just simply to enjoy each other’s company. If it hadn't been for the multiple late-night calls, he wouldn't have been able to differentiate your room from Seulgi's and Yuqi's.

After settling you into bed, Donghyuck thought that was the end of it. But it turns out you had other plans because now your arms circle his neck, trapping him close to you. He has no time to react when your lips meet the side of his neck.

“Hey, what—what’re you doing?” His words stuttered and nervous. He swears he didn’t mean them to.

He can't tell if you're drunk anymore. He hopes you are.

You wait for him to pull away, and when he doesn't, you smile against his neck, leaving drunk, uncoordinated kisses on it. “Just thought… I could make you look prettier.

Did she just call me pretty? Wait—geez, fucking focus, Donghyuck. She's drunk for God's sake. I think… Still, no!

Even though this moment is something he's dreamt about ever since freshman year, this can't happen now. You're drunk and vulnerable, and he'd rather have you in a state where you're only thinking of him, not your lousy excuse of an ex-boyfriend and his new floozy. 

He finally backs away from you. “Y/N, you're not thinking straight, alright? I–I gotta go.”

He doesn’t even wait for your reaction, immediately bolting out of your bedroom. He wastes no time in hurrying out of your apartment and letting whatever interaction between you two stay there. Plus, you'll forget all about this in the morning. For you, this never happened.

But for Donghyuck? Well, let's just say he didn't have the most comfortable ride home.

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note: FIRST WRITTEN CHAP FOR NO IDEAAA, EVERYBODY CHEER!!! 👏 to those who read drum me, stupid, you're probably used to my written chapters that are planned to be short but end up being long... that'll never change, i fear 😔☝️ anyway! writing this made me smile bc ynhyuck are cute and hyuck's just an awkward boy:((( but i must sleep. it is 1am. I HOPE THIS MADE YALL GIGGLE AS WELL !

🖇 (open!): @skeetyeetyote @junviadinho @n0hyuck @yewshi @marvelahsobx @hqech @sunflowerhae @loveholicness @sfswithfs @222brainrot @dudekiss3r @aek1ra @nosungluv @miyawwn @haechology @chenlesfavorite @alethea-moon @polarisjisung @lionzyon @mystverse @insaneanddrained @starfilledgaze @onlyhyunjin @swee7dream @haechsworld @markspossibilities @schatjze @minniesbae @multifandomania @neozon3nha @zzurao @hoshipills @nessaassen02 @lavender-roses-06 @ohwowzersthatscool @sunghoonsgfreal @ldh0000 @taeeflwrr @do-you-remember-summer-127 @hyuck-me @injunnie-lemon @txthyuck @jeongintwt @starwonb1n @413ktz @haechansbbg @galacticnct @keeryverse @kosmicbomb @thegracerammy

[itsthatmff]

Watching a Horror Movie with their S/O

Included: Genos, Saitama, King, Garou, Metal bat, Zombieman

Some longer headcanons for you guys~

This turned out more chaotic than I had envisioned it, enjoy !

gn!reader

Genos(with a s/o who isn’t scared at all)

Genos was the one to suggest on watching a horror movie together because he wanted to do “Social activities” with you. He once read during his daily web browsing, that watching horror movies with people that are important to you is a nice thing to do in your free time.

You both got Popcorn, snacks and blankets that day and watched “The ring” together at your apartment.

You honestly didn’t really feel like watching a movie, especially since you already watched that movie twice.

But Genos seemed so excited to spend time with you that you just couldn’t say no.

It began pretty chill, you both were looking at the screen while eating your snacks. Genos talked about how he never watched a Horror movie because he didn’t see the point in them.

Later, when the first jumpscare popped up, you weren’t really surprised. Genos on the other hand looked very much confused.

“I do not understand, Why did she jump up to the screen?”

“So that you get scared, silly”

Later, he started asking more questions and you answered them instead of paying attention to the movie. And after a while the “movie night” turned into more of a chit chat since you both lost interest to watch the movie.

“Y/N, I must admit that listening to your soothing voice is better than watching a horror movie. My suggestion wasn’t that good after all”

Saitama (with an S/O who’s scared shitless)

Ever since Saitama got promoted onto rank B, you finally had some time to spend together as he didn’t have to patrol every day.

You decided that watching a movie at theaters would be great and left the ticket purchasing to Saitama as you bought the popcorn and nachos for both of you.

Little did you know that Saitama had gotten tickets for a horror movie. And little did he know that you were frightened by them.

You didn’t realize that the movie you had entered in was a horror movie way until 10 minutes into screening.

Sitting down on the comfortable armchair and munching on your popcorn, the sudden eerie music and the creepy hall made you halt.

“Saitama..what kind of movie is this..?”

“A horror movie.”

“Oh.”

Saitama casually continued eating his nachos when he suddenly felt you grab onto his arm. He looked at you confused.

“No way, are you scared?”

All you could do was nodd as you were closing your eyes.

Saitama felt kind of proud on one hand to have you cling onto him like that, but he set his ego aside.

“We can leave if you want to, I heard this movie is shit anyways.”

You didn’t wanna ruin your movie date like this, but you really couldn’t stand being here for another second.

Once you guys had left the theaters you apologized to him, but all he did was take your hand and give you a small smile.

“It’s fine, cmon. The fact that we left earlier means we can still catch the sale going on at the supermarket.”

King (with a s/o who loves horror movies)

King already shits his pants when seeing a monster, So I guess he Ain’t a big fan of horror movies either.

You asked him once after playing videogames if he wanted to watch a Movie with you and he agreed, not expecting anything.

At that night you both sat down and you decided to watch IT. It hadn’t even gone through your mind that the movie wasn’t watchable because it really wasn’t that scary in your opinion.

And King on the other hand couldn’t say no to watching a horror movie because he would’t want to upset you by showing his weaknesses.

When the movie began he already was shaking inside, and you didn’t notice until the first jumpscare popped up and he began sweating like hell.

“I’ll go to the toilet real quick Y/N”

A good 10 minutes had passed and he still hadn’t returned, which made you realize that he probably had gotten scared.

It was not too long after that he returned, ready to face the next gruesome 2 hours of his life, but there was no horror movie to be found.

Instead, he saw his favorite game playing on the screen, with you laying on your stomach and holding the controller.

“Y/N..what’s this?”

“I didn’t feel like watching the movie anymore. Playing video games is much more fun.”

A little smile crept upon him, he was very grateful to have such an understanding S/O.

“Sure, but don’t complain if you loose for the 2000th Time.”

Garou (with an overdramatic S/O)

You loved to tease Garou any chance you could take.

It was always fun to see him react to situations he’s never experienced before.

That day you begged Bang at the dojo if Garou could take off one day of his training to have a sleep over at yours.

At first he was skeptical, he knew how reckless the youth of today could be.

But you reassured him that it would be a movie night and no more.

With his approval you had your plan rolling.

Garou was never the overprotective type when it came to trivial things, he thought it was too cheesy and knew you were independent enough.

Once at your apartment, you put on the first horror movie you could see on netflix.

Garou made himself comfortable on the couch, spreading his legs and tilting his head back.

You sat next to him, just waiting for the first creepy thing to happen.

You know sometimes in the movie when theres this tension just to turn out that nothing happened? Like when they turn on a light and theres nothing in the room.

At such a moment you decided to go all out, cling your arms onto his waist and close your eyes.

Garou was cleaning his ear when he looked from the tv screen down to you in confusion.

“What the fuck are you doing Y/N. Nothing even happened.”

“It looked like a jump scare..”

He knew damn well you were being overdramatic on purpose again.

“I swear to god if this is one of your stupid games.”

Despite saying that, he still wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

In some scenes where even he got startled a little, he tightened his grip around you.

The plan had worked. And you had to hold back your grin to save your life.

“It wasn’t even that scary- hey, what the hell are you grinning for? You did this on purpose didn’t you?”

Badd (with an S/O who tries to act tough)

It was after school when Metal bat decided to take you out to the movies.

Everyone at school was talking about this new Horror movie that aired and of course as a good boyfriend he would want to spoil you and let you watch the movie so you could feel included at school.

You were indifferent with horror movies, they aren’t your favorites and you didn’t watch them often, but they certainly weren’t ‘too scary’ for you to watch.

As you both took your seats and the movie started, metal bat was already uninterested in what was going on in the movie. He was way more excited to be spending time with you. His gaze stuck on to you, he could see in what moments your eyes widened, when you flinched, when you laughed and when you felt scared.

It seemed like this movie was more scary than usual and it seemed that badd noticed your uneasiness.

His head rested on your shoulder,

“It’s just a movie.”

“I know.”

You knew, and still you felt uneasy. Though Badd’s assurance helped a lot. You combed through his hair as the movie progressed.

In the end, it did feel like the tension was worth it, as the ending of the movie turned out to be really good.

But that wasn’t the end of your date at all. Your boyfriend still had to spoil you rotten.

“Y/N, let’s grab food and go to karaoke afterwards, ya hear me?”

Zombieman (with a S/O who loves Horror Movie marathons)

Watching horror movies with Zombieman was a usual thing for you two to do.

Especially since you two loved the old Halloween franchise. You’d both be on the couch at his crib, him smoking his usual cigarettes, a good whiskey on the table as you two watched and discussed the movie.

It was a nice activity you two shared. And it was obvious Michael myers was Zombieman’s favorite.

The smell of cologne, cigarettes and whiskey, the dim lit living room and the screams coming from the tv. Thats what you liked to call a romantic evening.

Its only when the room is filled with smoke and he sees your drowsy eyes that he decided to finally end tonights marathon.

He put his last cigarette on the ashtray and turned off the tv.

“We’ve watched enough, haven’t we?”

That deep raspy voice could immediately send you to sleep.

“You’re surely different to please, Y/N. But that’s what I like about you.”

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ the day he fell in love with his big booty himbo <3

Word count › 894

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › Yubin a perv

Kinks › none

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

Choi Yubin was an outcast. At least in popular spaces. He had a few friends in his music club but if they hadn’t enjoyed music like him, would they even talk to him?

Most likely no…. He knew he was a bit weird: didn’t talk much, answered in short sentences, and even cute girls talking to him didn’t get his shell to crack.

But he was fine being the weird good looking nerd that kept to himself.

He needed only one friend, Kim Bora. She was way hotter than him—by the amount of notes she got in her locker in home room. But she never got a boyfriend.

Or girlfriend, Yubin wasn’t sure if she liked anyone really.

“Bin, pass the ball.” Bora said, pointing to the ball that had rolled down to his feet. Yubin hates gym class so he stayed in the back with other kids who didn’t want to play. He huffed but pushed the ball back to whoever was playing.

“You’re so out of it.” Bora laughed, a grin on her lips. “See someone catch your eye?” She jokingly looked around but knew it wasn’t true.

Yubin hated almost all of his classmates. All they wanted to do was talk about their looks or something else he didn’t give too shits about.

Oh well, he just had to survive another school day.

He glanced down at his shoelaces for the third time today. It was more interesting than whatever his classmates were doing.

“Oi!”

He wanted to die so bad.

“Oi!!!”

Mmh, what should he have for dinner?

“YUBIN!!!”

Yubin looked up and cursed. A ball came straight for his head and knocked him square in his nose. He swore he heard a crack as he fell to the ground with a shriek that Bora would forever bully him for.

At the nurse, the clinic nurse didn’t do much. Gave him an ice pack right before pushing his nose back in place. It was painful. He screamed.

Never again.

He was allowed to leave school so he had texted his grandmother to meet him at the train station. Just as he was about to leave, the door to the nurse’s office opened and he saw something magical in front of him.

Yubin wasn’t sure who the hell he was but he wanted to know everything about him.

Tanned skin, jet black hair parted in the middle with a few longer strands getting into his eyes a bit. Double eyelids that resembled that thing Bora mentioned about people looking like animals.

Yeah, this guy looked like a puppy. The guy was buff, way more than the average student should be. He was still in his gym clothes. A tight white shirt stuck to his chest showing an outline of abs and boobs.

Yes, boobs!

A slim waist. And the most pouty lips he ever saw.

Yubin opened his mouth to speak. Wondering what the hell this guy was in here for but he looked at him.

And he smiled.

Holy fuck someone other than Bora smiled at him!!!

“Yunwoo!”

That wasn’t his name but he’d take it!

“I’m so sorry.” He said, walking over to hand him a bag of rice snacks. How the fuck did he know he liked them?!? Yubin looked at him as if he was an angel above.

“Sorry for what…?” He mumbled, remembering he couldn’t just stare at the guy.

“The ball. I had hit it too hard. If you want anything else, I’ll give it to you! I heard your nose was broken.” He looked so guilty. His lips were jutted out into a pout while his doe eyes looked down.

Yubin wanted him to look like that everyday. He made sure to use his jacket to cover his growing erection and simply nodded.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Ah,” the guy smiled. Ah he loved this look as well. “I’m Yim (Name).”

Yim? Oh, it was close to Yubin! It was fate!! Yubin was just thinking out of his ass but he promised himself that he would make this random guy his boyfriend.

“Get home safe, Yunwoo.” (Name) said.

“Yubin….” Yubin muttered but (Name) was already gone.

Well, that’ll be the first thing he does when wooing (Name)… getting him to know his actual name.

𝄞

Yubin knew he was nasty. Perverted really. Who meets someone random and suddenly jerk off to them?

Choi Yubin, that’s who.

Groans left his lips as he rubbed his cock in his bedroom. He was still dressed in his gym clothes—having just rushed into his room. His grandmother was surely confused but she didn’t say anything.

Yubin was surprised in himself at how quick he was about to cum. The thoughts of (Name)’s lips around his cock. His doe eyes staring up at him as he sat on the ground as he cried on his cock.

“(Name)…” he grunted as he came into the napkin nearby. Yubin threw it into a trash can underneath his desk and stared up at the ceiling.

God damn, what a pervert he was.

His mind went back to (Name), thinking back onto his boobs. The white shirt that stuck to his wet tanned skin. He hummed to himself, imagining (Name) fucking himself on his cock.

Yubin glanced down at his twitching cock.

Ah, he had a few more rounds in him.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Perverted Yubin is back!

His first post was way more popular than I thought!!

I have three other characters that I’ll publish their meet cutes soon next week!

Requests for Yubin are open if you got any ideas for him 🤭

[soapsilly]

My Kind of Woman - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Summary: Zoro being love drunk - and also a little drunk drunk - for (Y/N). A short story inspired by Mac DeMarco - My Kind Of Woman.

Requests are closed

************************************************************************

It was late... or rather early? Did it really count as the next morning when you never even went to sleep? There weren't very many people left - most of them had already gone home or were passed out. Nothing unusual for the feasts the Straw Hats would have regularly after a big fight. The huge bonfire had gone out hours ago but there embers still glimmered red and hot. Somewhere, Brook was still playing a song on his guitar. It was slow and almost sultry.

Zoro was more than a little buzzed as he watched (Y/N) drunkenly sway to the music. He was mesmerized by her. The way her hips moved to the music so perfectly. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the tunes, a small smile present on her face. He knew she was dancing for herself only, not to impress any of those men that were there this evening, not even for him. That didn't stop the swordsman from still watching the woman intently though. Zoro sometimes couldn't believe the effect she had on him. All the little nicknames, the nights they spent together, small kisses and hidden touches. It was all so foreign to Zoro but strangely he didn't mind at all.

"Here", she pushed something in his hands.

"What's this?", he blinked a few times.

"My wanted poster. It has a picture of me on it... It'll last longer", she winked at him.

The swordsman grinned stupidly as he unfolded the paper in his hands.

He took another swig of his drink, letting the taste linger in his mouth, watching the way her arms snacked themselves around herself in a soothing hug, a bottle of liquor dangling in her hands. He wasn't a dancer but his mind almost automatically imagined himself in her arms, swaying to the music. Oh, the things she did to him...

She was everything for him. How could a woman like her ever stay with a guy like him? He was stubborn. A brute. Not romantic in the slightest. And yet she was always by his side, making sure he ate, slept, rested. That shitty cook liked to remind Zoro that she was too good for him every chance he got - any maybe he was right - but as long as she would have him he'd do everything for her.

"Are you serious? You need to rest! Your wounds haven't even healed properly and here you are training again already! I'm not gonna stay and watch you kill yourself"

"Leave then, I never asked you to be here anyways", Zoro regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

"You're an idiot, do you know that?", she told him before leaving the room.

He was sure he had permanently fucked things up with her this time, kicking himself over it, but in the evening (Y/N) came up to him.

"You shouldn't talk to me this way"

"I'm sorry", he meant it. He really did. He expected her to tell him to get lost, to not talk to her again but instead she hugged him. He didn't understand why she stuck right next to him, but he didn't dare to vocalize his thoughts, afraid of putting ideas in her head.

As if under a spell, he made his way over to her. He would blame the alcohol in the morning but he knew it was her that had this intoxicating effect on him. He knew the guys would tease him for his public display of affection but he didn't care. All he cared about right now was (Y/N). When he hugged her from behind, she didn't even hesitate as she turned around nuzzling her face in the nape of his neck.

"Didn't take you for a dancer"

"Couldn't help myself "

For a moment the two of them just stood there, swaying to the music, enjoying each others company.

"'M tired...", she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Want me to bring you back to the Sunny?", he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

"Only if you join me"

She didn't have to ask twice as he easily scooped her into his arms to carry her back to the Sunny. He'd never understand how he deserved a woman like her. He never was the romantic type but with her it was different. She was his kind of woman.

[phantomspiderr]

Wrong

Pairing: Jake Lockley x afab!reader (with mentions of Marc Spector x afab!reader & Steven Grant x afab!reader)

Word Count: 2.9k+

Summary: Your first date with Jake takes a bit of a steamy turn but ends in a rather soft moment ~based on this ask~

Warnings/Tags: 18+ alludes to & mentions of smut, lots of kissing, obvious mentions of DID, probably way too much use of nicknames, overconfident!jake but also lil shy!jake, virgin!jake, talks about consent, small touch of manhandling, and of course fluff

a/n: as always thank you to my bestest friend in the entire world @natashasvixen for always reading my stuff no matter how shit it is, love you😘 also thank you so much to whoever sent this ask your message was so sweet and kind. I'm ngl this was going to be full on smut but it took a turn and I kinda just ran with it

“What?” A smile creeps onto your face as you look at him. Jake is lounging in the corner of the small couch. One of his arms is slung over the back of the couch, his fingers just grazing your back while the other leans on the arm of the couch. His head is propped against his fist and he’s staring at you, he has been all night. There’s the slightest smirk on his face, you find it so odd how a face you know so well can look so different. 

The night had been unexpected, after meeting Jake only a handful of times the more self-assured alter had asked you out on a date. And now, the conversation Marc had brought up makes a little more sense. A couple of days ago your boyfriend asked how you felt your existing relationship fit around his other alters. Marc had been open and honest about Steven and Jake from the moment you met, you’d had countless conversations about his DID but this particular conversation had come out of nowhere. Like quite literally he’d randomly just asked about it while you were in the middle of watching something. You were obviously curious about the other alters and it was honestly taking some getting used to different people in the same body. Even though they were part of him and he’d told you about them, Marc was still a little reluctant to share you with Steven and Jake. Selfishly he wanted you all to himself because deep down he knew the pair well enough to know that they would fall for you as hard as he had. 

But now, here you are cosied up in their apartment where Jake had prepared little snack boards and had even set up a little chocolate fondue that you’d both been picking at all night. You’d been talking about an old childhood memory while quiet jazz music plays in the background and Jake just listened. He hadn’t really said a lot, only really replying in one or two sentences but he listened to every word you spoke and he didn’t care how much you talked and talked and talked.

Suddenly, he surges forward and your body jumps at the unexpected movement, his hand hovers next to your face for a second until you visibly relax. Your eyes lock with his again, and you keep looking at him even when he looks down at your lips. His fingers gently touch your jaw, his thumb slowly dragging across your bottom lip. Your lips involuntarily part at the contact, a shaky breath coming out as you do. You think he's going to kiss you, and your body automatically gravitates closer to him forgetting you haven’t kissed Jake before. Learning boundaries with Steven and Jake was definitely taking some getting used to, especially since Marc had very few physical boundaries with you. Now, Jake’s definitely smirking, his eyes glancing into yours and then back to your lips before he backs up again, all contact gone. You don’t get a chance to protest or even pout at the loss. 

“Chocolate,” you dumbly watch as he pushes his thumb into his mouth, cleaning off the small drop of chocolate that was there. The conversation you’d previously been having lost as you just stare at his hands, solely thinking about his hands, you know those hands too well. Now, you’re wondering if Jake’s touch would feel the same as Marc’s or if it’d be rougher, maybe softer, “are you okay hermosa?” 

“Mmhm,” it comes out squeaky and you realise you’re literally squirming in your seat. He’s looking at you like you’re prey and he’s been starved and now he’s ready to pounce.

“Are you uncomfortable hermosa?” His head tilts to the side, eyes surveying you as you continue to squirm unable to sit still. It’s not that you’re uncomfortable, you just now can’t stop thinking about certain situations involving Marc’s hands. “This couch isn’t very comfortable.” Jake cuts in before you can even reply to his question, shifting in his own seat, his legs spreading a bit wider and the godforsaken hand you can’t stop thinking about now rubbing the top of his thigh. “You are always welcome to sit here cariño.”

You freeze, looking at him with wide eyes unsure you heard him right but he glances down at his lap before looking at you again and you know you absolutely heard him right. Then your body’s moving before you can fully think it through, he grins up at you as you situate yourself in his lap. His hands glide up your thighs to hold your waist as you straddle him and now, you’re face to face with him you’re not sure what to do. The little burst of confidence you’d just had fizzles away as you look down at him, Jake’s stare is so intense it scrambles your already fuzzy brain. 

“Eres tan hermosa, mi amor,” you giggle nervously when his fingers brush along your cheek down to your jaw. His eyes follow his hand as it moves and you can’t look away from his face. You’re somehow surprised but not surprised at all that Jake’s won you over so easily, the man already has you like putty in his hands. 

“I-I don’t know what you’re saying,” he chuckles briefly, his eyes glued to his hand that lightly brushes your jaw. He is obsessed with the way your head moves so easily with his touch, the cogs in his brain turning with more ways he could use that to his advantage.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jake holds your chin in his hand now and you let out a shuddered breath when his eyes lock with yours again, “I’m going to kiss you, hermosa.” You’re nodding your head the best you can and Jake’s smile grows at the action. Slowly, he straightens his back, getting closer inch by inch. Your own hands finally start working again as they move up his chest to pull him closer by his shirt. You’re getting impatient, needing to kiss him like you need to breathe and quite frankly Jake finds it amusing. Just as he’s close enough that you can feel his lips just barely brush yours, he stops. Jake freezes right where he is and his hold on your chin keeps you locked in place. You can’t move forward no matter how much you try and so, you whine, unashamedly you whine because you’re so desperate to kiss him now, “tan impaciente.” 

Jake holds you there for a few seconds more, taking great satisfaction with how much you begin to squirm again. He finally shows you some mercy, sliding the hand holding your chin to your neck allowing you to move freely. You don’t hesitate to push forward, finally pressing your lips to his. Your body instantly relaxes, sinking further into Jake’s hold. The confidence radiates off of him as you kiss, one of his arms coming up to support your back while the other hand cradles your head. It all feels so familiar, at this point, you think your brain’s on autopilot. Your hands smooth over his now wrinkled shirt, one making its way up to the back of his neck attempting to exude some confidence or show some control by manipulating which way he moves now. You’re able to wordlessly direct him and he listens, moving in sync with you. Your heart races in your chest but you find comfort in the fact under your fingers you can feel Jake’s beating wildly too. You don’t want it to end, right now all you want to do is kiss him until you can’t breathe—and you can’t. You’ve been kissing so long that you’re lacking oxygen and you have to unwillingly part from him to heave in air. Jake pushes forward to kiss you again and you have to smile. Despite the fact, both of you are panting after your little make-out session he is so desperate to keep you right where you are. 

“Hermosa,” Jake whines and the sound makes a flurry of emotions swirl in you. Your head tilts back a fraction in order for you to breathe but that doesn’t stop Jake from eagerly placing kisses from your lips down to your neck.

“What does that one mean?” Your fingers slide into his hair and tug ever so gently in a silent request for him to come up for air too. You can’t deny the way his lips feel against your skin is intoxicating, the closeness makes your entire body tingle.

“Beautiful,” his voice is rougher than before and he finally sits back, his eyes slowly drifting up your face as the hand still resting on your neck moves. His fingers lightly trace along your jaw again, “so beautiful.”

Now, you can fully see his face in the dim flat lighting you can make out the tint of red coating his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His slightly parted lips are swollen and rapidly he pushes out air. The man looks utterly devastating and he’s the one calling you beautiful. You can feel heat prickle your skin the more he looks at you, his eyes are studying you so intently. The overwhelming urge to kiss him again takes over and you push yourself toward him to try to close the gap again—try being the fundamental word. He pulls back with a smirk before you can kiss him, for a second you’re confused sitting back and looking at him curiously. He doesn’t move or say anything, he just sits there smirking so you try again. You push yourself up and just barely brush your lips against his before he pulls back again, an amused look still on his face.

“Marc,” you cry out in frustration before it registers in your brain. Suddenly, you drag yourself back when you realise your mistake but Jake only tilts his head slightly, one of his eyebrows raising. “I’m sor-”

“Oh, cariño,” his hold on you tightens by the second. It’s almost like a switch has flipped and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing yet, “I have ways to make you remember my name.” Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes going wide at the implications of what he’s just said. Jake closes in on you again, and your eyes fall closed as you feel his breath against your neck. His nose brushes along your jawline toward your ear, “is that something you want hermosa?” An uncontrollable whimper escapes you much to Jake’s satisfaction, a deep chuckle sprouting from him at the sound. Jake hums questioningly, fishing for a direct answer.

“Yes. Yes please, Jake-” You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Jake’s tight grip holds you close as he effortlessly stands, his lips back on yours even as you yelp out in surprise. Your legs instinctively clamp around his waist while your hands now grip his shoulders for some form of stability. Jake’s kisses are frantic, the surprising change completely welcome as he moves you both through the flat. “Jake. Jake,” you manage to breathily speak his name, as if to make up for your earlier mistake, trying to get his attention and he only hums as his mouth moves back to your neck. Your head involuntarily moves to allow him more access, your mind clouded by lust instead of rational thinking and at this point, you may just allow him to do just about anything to you. Rather abruptly and unceremoniously, Jake shoves books off of Steven’s messily organised desk before he cruelly lets go of you making you gently thud onto the wooden surface. 

“Now you remember?” You can do nothing but blink up at him as he looks smugly down at you, your silence only boosts his confidence. Although all he wants to do is move at a hundred miles an hour he forces himself to slow down, to establish consent and trust with you. Jake wants nothing more than to be trusted, to be loved and he knew he wanted those things from you and only you. He however simultaneously wanted to pull you apart until the neighbours knew his name too. Your hands slip from his neck down his chest, and his hands catch your wrists as they move, “cariño.” 

“Tell me what that one means,” you lean in closer almost like you’re moving in to kiss him again and in response, he nudges his chin up just enough to brush your lips together. 

“It can mean more than one thing,” Jake kisses you once, “it can be sweetheart.” Another kiss to your lips, “dear,” and another, “honey,” another, “love.” His words mixed with the affection make you smile even as you try to pull your hands free but he holds firm. Jake pulls away just enough so he can look into your eyes again, “cariño-”

This time he says the pet name a little more seriously and that rational part of your brain enters the room again. The lusty haze clouding your judgement clears and you can see the faint look of doubt that washes over him.

“I haven’t- Not with-” His gaze drops to your hands, watching as he lowers them to rest on your thighs. You curiously look at him as he stutters, you’re surprised to hear it as it seems like that’s more of a Steven thing. “I want to be with you,” his eyes suddenly snap up to yours again, “I want to get on my knees and bury myself between your thighs.” There’s the self-assured Jake you know, “I want to bend you over that very uncomfortable couch and have you screaming my name.” You swallow thickly as he spills out the desperate fantasies that fill his head. His fingers delicately graze up your thighs until they reach your hips, holding on so you can’t scoot any closer to the edge of the desk. “But,” his eyes close for a second and when they open he’s looking down again, “I also want you to trust me.” You try to interject but he keeps going, “and I want to fully trust you.” Jake winces, expressing something so mundane he wants from another person feeling foreign to him. 

He can’t look at your face, he’d never admit it but he’s scared. Never has he gotten further than this with anyone, everyone always wants more, to push further than he’s willing to go and he wants that. Some primal part of him wants it more than anything but this softer side he likes to keep behind closed doors just wants someone to want him for more than sex. 

“Jake,” your voice is soft. Your hands gently move up his arms until you can hold his face between them, you repeat his name again and this time he slowly looks back up into your eyes. “It’s okay,” the corner of your lips twitch when you see his stoic look drop almost immediately, “we can go as slow…or as fast as you want to.” 

It’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders, his arms slide around your back and he pulls you into an embrace. The move catches you off guard but you’re quick to hold him, your hands cradling the back of his head and neck wanting to savour the soft moment. You manage to turn your head enough to kiss the side of his head, your nose buried in his hair that smells like the hair gel Marc sometimes uses. Jake pulls away just enough to look at your face for a moment before he moves closer, nudging his nose against yours. Then he’s kissing you again, this time slower and softer it makes this speed feel even more intimate than before. 

Jake rests his forehead against yours, your lips parting for only a moment, “can we just do this for a minute hermosa?” You’re nodding your head letting out a breathy laugh and angling up to kiss him again. 

You both stay like that for much longer than a minute, fluctuating between short pecks and longer, slower kisses. He can’t keep his hands still, they move so gently across your skin from your hips to your thighs, to your waist even moving up to hold your face at one point. They find their final purchase on your sides, fingers digging into the soft skin there. Jake only stops his pursuit to press a kiss to your cheek whispering quiet words to himself like a prayer. 

“Where did you get all your ideas from then?” Your own whispers interrupt him, a smile creeping on your face as he pulls away. That blush coating his cheeks has grown and he frankly looks adorable. 

“I read.” You’re taken aback by that response, and now you’re just wondering exactly what he’s been reading. Jake moves in to kiss your cheek again, making his way closer to your ear. “I also watch a lot of por-“

“Okay!” You giggle as his fingers brush against your sides. That was the kind of thing you were expecting him to say first. Jake smiles down at you, a proper goofy carefree smile and he looks so sweet like this. It’s contagious, he’s got you grinning so much your eyes crinkle in the corners. A comfortable silence surrounds you, delicately your fingers comb through his hair. You’re both just taking a moment to admire each other. 

“You know Steven isn’t going to be happy about this,” you lean to the side and look down at the heap of books and papers scattered on the floor. Jake follows your gaze before you look back at each other and he just shrugs. 

“Worth it,” one of his hands cups your cheek and he dips down to kiss you again. It was definitely worth it. 

~part 2~

[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!

[archangeldyke-all]

idk why i didn’t think of this sooner but bodyguard!Sevika 👀

her being overly protective, saying it’s bc of “her job” when it’s really bc she has a fat crush on her beautiful, celebrity client and doesn’t want anyone to lay a finger on her girl 😩

this is SO cute like SOOOO cute omg

men and minors dni

sevika's the best body guard you've had. and you've had plenty.

she isn't afraid to push people around when they're crowding you, and she isn't afraid to get in a fight or two.

she's always got a protective hand on the small of your back as she escorts you to and from appearances-- a comfort you've grown accustomed to.

in the mornings she picks you up from your home or whatever hotel room you're staying in, always prepared for you with a warm drink just the way you like it.

she's always got snacks tucked away in her pockets that she shoves into your hands when you've gone too long without eating, in between interviews and meetings.

she's not afraid to step in when journalists and interviewers get too comfortable or run on too long. inappropriate questions are often lobbed at you, about your personal life, your love life and your appearance, and each time sevika's there to witness them, she'll glare at the reporter until they take the question back or move on.

she's always ready for any problem you might face. raining? sevika's opening an umbrella over your head already. randomly got your period? she's subtly passing you a pad or tampon, then two painkillers and some water. tired? sevika's already wrapping her strong arm around you to let you sleep against her chest during the car rides to and from gigs.

she's been by your side as your personal guard for a year now, and you've never been happier. there's just one thing.

you've kinda got a crush on her.

how could you not? she's protective of you, kind to strangers, strong and beautiful and always touching you.

it's starting to drive you a bit crazy.

last week, she was hanging out in your house while you got ready for a red carpet, helping you lace up various dresses and clasp necklaces as you picked your outfit, looking handsome as hell in her all black suit.

there was a moment, as you were applying your makeup and she was fiddling with your television, where this wave of clarity washed over you. you watched in the mirror as behind you sevika huffed at the screen and mashed buttons on the remote, and you thought, 'oh. i think i want her here with me forever.'

three nights ago, she was dropping you off at home after you hosted the opening night of a new club, slightly sweaty, black buttonup shirt unbuttoned low enough you can see a little bit of her cleavage, hair slicked back, lips and eyes painted black, a smile on her lips and her hands on your hips to steady your drunken stumbling; and when you got to the door you could've fucking sworn she was about to kiss you goodnight. she was staring at your lips, licking her own, slowly leaning in, and you smiled. she froze, blinked, then pulled away.

"don't forget to lock your doors." she said. she's been saying it to you every night since she was hired. you rolled your eyes.

"text me when you're home safe, sev." you replied like you always do. she huffed as she began stumbling backwards so she could keep her eyes on you as she crossed your front yard.

"i'm a bodyguard for fuck's sake!" she said, exasperated.

she still texted you a 'home.' twenty minutes later.

you couldn't sleep that night, replaying the moment over and over again, butterflies in your stomach keeping you tossing and turning all night.

and then, the next time you saw her (last night) you decided to turn the charm on a bit, see if you were just delusional and drunkenly imagining things or if maybe the feelings you were having for sevika were... mutual.

you were at a gala, sevika sitting next to you in a tux as ballroom music played. you gulped down the last dregs of your drink and turned to her. "let's go outside." you whispered in her ear. she smiled, and followed you out to the empty smoking balcony.

sevika covered your exposed shoulders with her jacket before you could even shiver, then pulled a cigarette and lighter from her back pocket. you laughed, then pulled a joint from your cleavage, waggling your eyebrows at her. she chuckled.

you snatched the lighter from her hands and lit up as sevika tucked her cigarette away. you took a long puff and passed it over to her. she grinned, and took a drag.

when the joint was gone, you turned to her. "i've got kinda a stupid question but..."

"go ahead." she said with a chuckle.

"okay. but you have to be honest, promise?" you asked. she nodded. you took a deep breath, then whispered, "were you gonna kiss me the other night?"

sevika blinked. "i... don't know what you're talking about." she said.

you blinked, nodded, then went back inside.

neither of you talked the rest of the night.

and now things are weird.

you haven't heard from sevika. you haven't had anything scheduled, so there's no need for you to hear from sevika, but still. you can't remember the last time you'd gone more than 6 hours without a text or call. just to check in.

it's only now that you've gone so long without talking to her that you're starting to realize just how much she's become for you this past year. shit. you really need to give sevika a raise.

you've spent the day in bed, wallowing in self pity and heartbreak. your pajamas are wrinkled, your eyes are puffy from crying, and you're laying in a pile of crumbs from the cookies you've been munching on all day.

your doorbell rings. you freeze, mid munch on your cookie. there's only ten or so people who know the code to the gate around your property, who can get close enough to ring the actual doorbell.

you scramble out of bed pulling a robe on over your pajamas and running toward your front door. is it your mom? your manager? you tug open the door.

it's sevika.

you blink. "hi." you say. "do i have something today?" you ask. she shakes her head no.

"no, i--"

"i think i should give you a raise." you blurt. sevika blinks.

"what?"

you shrug. "do you wanna come in?" you ask. sevika shakes her head no. you freeze. "...okay?"

"here." she says, shoving flowers into your grip. you look down at them, a bouquet of your favorite colors. "i lied to you." she whispers.

"...about what?"

"i did want to kiss you. i'm sorry. if you want me to resign..."

"what!?" you shout. "why would i want you to resign?" you ask. sevika blinks up at you and shrugs.

"i have feelings for you. it's unprofessional." she says.

you laugh. sevika cringes, like you're laughing at her. you reach out and grab her hand before she can spiral.

"i have feelings for you too. i was really hopin' you were gonna kiss me. i spent all day in bed today 'cause you said you didn't want to. it's beyond unprofessional." you admit. sevika's jaw drops. "i don't want you to quit. i was serious about the raise. i just wanna say that before i kiss you so it's not, like, nepotism or something." sevika blinks at you. "is that okay?" you ask. she nods. you grin.

her arms have always inticed you, the steady way they guide you through crowds, the powerful way they push and beat off people who try to get near you, the way they fill out her blazers and button ups. but your new favorite, by a mile, is the gentle way they wrap around your body to hold you closer to her as you kiss.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights

[zedecksiew]

A PERFECT WIFE

(It is Vampire Weekend! Have a pontianak-themed urban-horror investigative adventure. I wrote it with Kuala Lumpur in mind, but it should work for any big city just fine.)

+++

DISAPPEARANCES

An inner-city neighbourhood, too ugly for gentrification. Refugees have settled here. They fled war in their own country. But they have not escaped violence.

People work basement sweatshops, or clean toilets in nightclubs. They stumble home in the morning dark. At dawn, their neighbours find gore blotching the dumpsters.

The first disappearance was a year ago. Now it happens with alarming regularity—every fortnight. The neighbourhood is tense. Most agree the following precautions work:

Cross the road if you spot rats. 

Walk on if your name is called.

Do not look for the baby crying. 

+++

THE COMMUNITY CENTRE

A school for refugee children. A girl in pink polka dots tugs the sleeve of a hijabi woman. “Shingalong time, Missh Shara?” she asks.

Sara gives in. Poor Yinyin! Her father vanished over the weekend. Sara offers cash for information about what happened to him. The authorities don’t seem to care.

Sara cares. She teaches English here, weekdays. Last year, when she miscarried, she bled all over the felt carpeting. She paid to have it cleaned. A faint stain remains.

+

YINYIN, THE ORPHAN Sniffling, hiding, remembering. 

A bundle of giggles, playing with her friends—but as soon as she is allowed a moment on her own she crouches, hugs herself, sobs.

Yinyin tells you her Papa is short a finger on his left hand, and has a picture of a scary black cat on his right arm. Yinyin tells you she loves her Papa.

“Shaturday night, Papa wentsh out to buy shtuff at the shop. Papa hashn’t come home. Will you ashk Uncle Yat when Papa will be home?”

+

SARA, THE WIFE Literature, pastry arts, embroidery.

At brunch her friends coo: “Look. At. You! You’re glowing!” Then they smile, half-cringing. They know she knows they’re lying.

Sara has not been sleeping well. Hormones, she thinks. She is six months into her second pregnancy. This will be her firstborn child. She will not disappoint her husband the doctor again.

She has a nail embedded into the back of her neck. She cannot feel it. Her hijab means nobody else sees it.

+++

THE NEIGHBOURHOOD

Shop signs in a language you cannot read. Even the thoroughfares feel like alleys. Whenever you turn a corner, roll an encounter:

Music blaring from a phone. A gang of six 38-ers. They whistle passers-by over, to squeeze for snack money.

Excited yaps. Seven dogs, four puppies. An elderly man has brought them rice and curry, in styrofoam packets. 

The flutter of yellow paper. Ideograms and a tiger, drawn in red ink. Somebody has lost their protective talisman.

Squeaks from a smelly drain. A rat pokes its head out, peers at you for a full minute, then continues on its way.

Police tape. “Move along, move along,” Sub-inspector Rafiq repeats, bored. A severed finger has been found.

“Eh-hek, eh-hek, eeeeeeeeeh!” A baby has begun to cry, close by. Just behind that pile of boxes. Sara’s baby.

+

38-ER, GANG MEMBER Machete use, boasting, escaping.

Tattooed on their bare shoulders: the number “38”, stylised to look like the symbol for the sacred sound Aum. 

Are these disappearances the work of some rival triad, trying to take over their turf? They were protective amulets. They move in groups. One in every group carries a gun.

They are still losing. Three senior members have gone missing. Their boss Uncle Day has not left his club in weeks. 

+

SARA’S BABY, THE GHOSTLING Stalking, mimicking, exsanguination.

There was no funeral because she lost them so early. She buried their remains, mourned them in private. She doesn’t know their spirit is still abroad.

Usually invisible; materialises to attack. Appears as a child with corpse-green pallor; talons; and proboscis-like umbilical cord.

Will never harm Sara. Hungers for her affection. Often spies on her at the Community Centre. May copy her teaching voice: “Quiet please!” “Sit down, children!” Make a check, or obey.

DEALING WITH SARA’S BABY

As resilient as an ordinary five-year-old. Harmed by mundane weapons. If slain, reappears the next new moon. Even full funeral rites will not put them to rest.

The wrong that made them was done to their mother. 

+++

REFUGEES

It is a close-knit neighbourhood. Folk gossip about your business. Some are becoming familiar faces. At every location, roll to see who also happens to be here:

An eleven-year-old. Suki. Organising, hauling, shortcut-taking. With five siblings to support, she has stopped school. Is a gofer for most businesses. Has keys to most back doors. 

A one-armed man. Uncle Tin. Marksmanship, bushcraft, forgetting. His panther tattoo marks him as a former resistance fighter. Cheap rum in his pocket. An assault rifle in his flat. 

A woman, heavy makeup. Sanda. Dancing, drinking, scrimping. Go-go dancer. Annoyed that the the new girls at the club pinching her regulars. Uncle Day’s favourite niece.

A bald head, robes. Brother Pha. Selling, haggling, spellcraft. Peddles a camphor liniment. “I bless, I bless!” Claims it wards against evil. It stings spiritual entities like pepper spray. 

Always taking a call. Mr Nong. Spying, deception, pistol-use. Seems helpful, but feeds you bad leads. Actually a private investigator keeping an eye on things for Dr Azman.

Waddles like a duck. Mya. Cooking, scolding, knife-use. She is expecting twins—two boys. “My hubby’s so happy.” Unless you get involved, will be the next person to disappear.

+++

THE SHOP

No signboard; doesn’t need one. Sells cosmetics; produce and spice pastes for dishes from the old country; third-hand phones.

Also roasted sunflower seeds; cheap rum; smuggled cannabis—enjoyed at tables in the alley out back. 

+

UNCLE YAT, THE SHOPKEEPER Smuggling, gossiping, electronics.

“See this panther here?” He points to a tattoo on his left arm. “We fought. We believed! But we lost. That’s life.” He takes another drag of his spliff, and chortles.

Yinyin’s father was here, Saturday, drinking. “Putting the charm on some girl. Real pretty! And getting real close, touching his face, all that. They left together.”

Yat gets quiet. “After what we’ve been through? We all deserve some happiness.” Yat thinks she was a go-go girl. “They work at the club. Go ask Day.”

+++

THE POLICE KIOSK

Community board: empty. Front desk: empty. Air-conditioning: freezing. You have to press the call buzzer four times before an officer appears, irritated.

Whatever you say, she will ask if you want to make a report. “Here, the form. Write. Sign.”

+

SUB-INSPECTOR RAFIQ, THE OFFICER Report-writing, delegating, pistol use.

Takes cigarettes breaks to escape the kiosk’s chill. Obliged to set up a cordon around any scenes of obvious violence. Treats his job as a pensioner’s hobby.

A grey moustache, holding your attention. Friendly but unhelpful. Mention Sara and his eyes narrow; he asks whether you know Dr Azman.

“Because I do. The doctor’s wife has pure intentions, yes. But she is naive. These refugees? They are  bad people. We should protect pure women from bad realities.”

+++

THE CLUB

A poor person’s idea of what wealth looks like: lots of glass; lots of pleather. Driving dangdut. Dancers gyrating on stages in front of murals of elephants, phoenixes, panthers.

Upstairs, a 38-er with a shotgun guards an armoured door. To meet the boss, you must be vouched for.

+

UNCLE DAY, THE BOSS Speechifying, martial arts, rifle-use.

A fifty-year-old veteran with hippie dreads. Panther-themed ink. Day was a military commander. Now he fights on a different plane.

“My people’s true war is spiritual. You appear on a lucky day—very lucky. It is fate. Preordained! What insight do you bring, heavenly messenger?”

Confirms that there are many fresh faces on weekends. “Beautiful girls are sacred animals, you understand? We cannot turn away beauty!”

+++

THE WOMAN OF YOUR DREAMS

This happens on the next weekend night, to the most cishet male person among you:

Maybe she is in some sort of trouble, and her car won’t start. Maybe she is on a corner, smoking—one black eye. Maybe she is on the podium, enduring gropes and jeers.

She is beautiful. Exactly your type. You can save her, be her hero. She will be grateful.

There are warning signs. There is no car. She will not describe her assailants. She leads you down a dead end. Her fragrance is sweet, like rotting flower garlands. Every dog in the neighbourhood bays.

She lowers her eyes, bites her lip. How can she repay you? she asks. This is a game she likes. Gratification delayed. It makes the end delicious.

Show suspicion, fear? She gets annoyed. Why aren’t you playing along?

Her neck twists around. She grins, chin over the nape of her neck. Arms at wrong angles, fingers ending in talons. She lopes after you, running backwards with a digitigrade gait.

+

SARA, THE PONTIANAK Pretending, pursuing, disembowelling.

The pontianak is a nightmare: born when an unhappy mother dies at childbirth; made when life is destroyed, trying to satiate the demands of the patriarchy.

The pontianak is a predator: she eats men. Women are exempt—except when they are pregnant with a male foetus. Baby flesh tastes best.

The pontianak is reversal. In human form, her physical features are tailored to appeal to potential victims. She must reveal her monstrously twisted form to feed.

The pontianak is fear. She wants her victims to know. She has tells. She always smells of rotting flowers. Dogs hate her: one will flee; a pack will attack.

+

SARA’S POWERS

She may whisper to any man she can see. The target hears this whisper over any distance. She materialises by his ear.

She may laugh, a high-pitched cackle. Men who hear this laugh develop debilitating fever a day later. Breaks after a week.

She may touch your clothes. Unerringly locates any man wearing any article of clothing she has previously touched.

She may fly. Moves through the air as if running on solid ground.

She may change shape. Besides taking human woman’s shape, she may also transform into a bay owl.

+

DEALING WITH PONTIANAKS

As resilient as three human persons. Harmed by mundane weapons. If slain, reappears the next new moon.

A known solution is imprisonment: a specially-prepared nail, stabbed into the back of her neck. This transforms the pontianak into a human woman.

Unaware of the nail, amnesiac, she is easily groomed by her captor. Often she is made to perform sanctioned gender roles—marriage, family-making—roles she previously abandoned.

The pontianak remains within. Her children may be born as monsters. If the nail is removed, she remembers what she is, and once again goes free.

+

DEALING WITH SARA

A pontianak always has a nest—typically a banana plant, banyan, or frangipani. This is where the root of her spirit resides; where she retreats if her body is slain.

Kill the pontianak, wait for her to retreat to her tree. Trap her inside with mystic wards. Burn the tree. This destroys her permanently.

Sara’s banana plant is in the back garden of her house.

+++

THE HOUSE

A two-storey bungalow, in one of the city’s oldest suburbs. The neighbours are cousins of sultans, hedge-fund managers, architects.

The perfectly manicured back garden has spider lilies, frangipanis—and a single banana stem, in a person-sized urn. “Easier to control the corm, so it grows neat,” Dr Azman explains.

The banana’s trunk has a girdle woven from coarse black thread. Look closer: the thread is human hair.

+

DR AZMAN, THE HUSBAND Gardening, surgery, spellcraft. 

Has a driver with a concealed-carry licence. Went to boarding school with the current Defence Minister. Framed: doctorates in a variety of medical fields; a masters in anthropology.

“Black magic? Bloodsucking spirits?” He shrugs. “Charlatans, placebo effect, criminal types using spooky stories to hide trafficking operations.”

You notice a vial on a cord around his neck. Inside: a single hair, suspended in dark oil. He buttons up his shirt without a word. He asks Sara to bring tea. “You’ve met my wife?”

+

DR AZMAN’S WIFE

Dr Azman wanted a wife. He did not leave such a thing to the vagaries of love; he made one for himself. Etched the nail in her neck; wove the girdle around her tree.

Dr Azman wants a son—though he is willing to accept a daughter. His first try failed. His perfect wife does have some downsides.

Dr Azman is trying again. Curious how gestation goes easier if his wife’s spirit is let out, given leave to feed. Nourishment for the foetus? Once every two weeks.

When he removes her nail she blusters and threatens. She doesn’t mean those things, he knows. He wears protection, as a precaution.

Dr Azman’s vial contains oil distilled from the flesh of Sara’s original corpse. Sara may never harm the person who wears this vial. 

+++

Some notes:

This was written with page references---ie: "turn to pg xx"---because that's what I do as a matter of course in drafting. But I couldn't get internal hyperlinks to work with Tumblr's text editor; my html-fu isn't good enough. Sorry. Hope it is still legible nonetheless.

The original version of this was written as a monster entry for an urban fantasy game. Stripped the system-specific stuff out; expanded the adventure bits (locations, characters, shape of What Is Going On). Basically rewrote the whole thing.

Writing for a contemporary setting is interesting. Felt okay to use an even more basic version of the system-neutral "stat block" I usually use. Mechanics aren't a prerequisite to contextualise action in modern-day reality, consider we (most of us, anyway) actually live here.

Malaysian hantu / monsters are overwhelmingly gendered female; most are created from childbirth and its horrors. They are nightmares of the patriarchy (and its callous treatment of women's bodies) made manifest.

Every Malaysian writer eventually writes a pontianak story. This is mine, I guess? The one bit in the pontianak mythos that arrests me most is the idea that she can be captured, turned into a "proper" woman. And that this is spoken of as some sort of victory, some sort triumph against evil---men win, in the end, always and forever.

The refugee angle is me working through Malaysian society's xenophobia towards of asylum seekers. I have written about it before; it is still relevant now.

This adventure explicitly casts the husband as the villain. He should get his comeuppance. Any way the situation develops, Sara---an innocent woman---will not come out of this unscathed.

Felt okay to sketch the NPCs, but not the monsters, because I'm not a good enough artist. Your imagination is better than I.

+

Image credits:

https://www.reddit.com/r/UrbanHell/comments/ufb8de/random_alley_in_cheras_kuala_lumpur_malaysia/

https://www.sabahpost.net/2019/12/06/polis-tembak-mati-3-pengedar-dadah-rampas-syabu-dan-senjata-api/

https://www.hmetro.com.my/mutakhir/2021/08/747004/balai-polis-sungai-besi-dihias-indah-sempena-hari-kebangsaan

https://www.reddit.com/media?url=https%3A%2F%2Fi.redd.it%2Flmb0m4v472n81.jpg

Nick Gray on Flickr

https://g.co/kgs/7wu8NTh

https://naturerules1.fandom.com/wiki/Oriental_Bay_Owl

https://www.bikemap.net/en/r/7659968/

https://www.secret-retreats.com/blog/general-info/list-of-edible-flowers-in-asia-floral-delights-in-asian-cuisine-part-1.html

[nobodysdaydreams]

Hatchetverse Crack Theory: In TGWDLM, the homeless man is singing to Paul about another apocalypse he lived through.

I'm sorry to my mutuals for not being up to date on my usual Wolf359 and TMBS content (more is coming I promise), but I recently fell back into Starkid after they released their new musicals, so of course the brain bees™️ gave me some more theories to share with the world (more might be coming, so I apologize in advance).

More details below (spoilers for TGWDLM and Nightmare Time, also I’m just gonna start tagging these “#hatchetverse theory”):

In TGWDLM, Ted as the homeless man sings to Paul during the song "La De Dah Dah Day". The exact verse he sings is: "🎶 I used to want to kill them all while high on bath salt zombie drugs, snacking on a dead man's face 🎶", before leaning into Paul's face.

His verse was played for laughs, and ngl, when I first watched the musical, I was put off by this portrayal of the homeless. However, now that we know from Nightmare Time that the Homeless Man is actually Ted from the future or possibly a version that lives in Tinky's toybox, that does imply that his line might have an alternate meaning.

At first, it seems like the homeless man we see in TGWDLM can't be the Ted from TGWDLM, because that Ted dies during the show and become part of the hive mind (therefore, how can his future self exist as the homeless man in TGWDLM?).

Well, in Nightmare Time, Ted travels back to try to fix the things that have gone wrong in his timeline (he attempts to make things right with Jenny and warn Paul about Emma). He does ultimately fail, but he still tries. Therefore, a version of Ted that lived through an apocalypse would likely attempt go back in time to stop it from happening. The apocalypse in question seems to have involved drugs that turned people into flesh hungry zombie monsters, eventually leading to Ted eating the face of Paul, before snapping out of it and trying to go back in time to stop the apocalypse (which based on how it happens, would likely be caused by Nibbly).

Thus, in TGWDLM, future Ted as the homeless man succeeds in stopping the apocalypse Nibbly was going to cause (an apocalypse where he survives but becomes a zombie for a bit). However, in doing so, he causes or inadvertently allows for Pokey's apocalypse, one where Ted dies and becomes part of the hive mind, erasing the homeless man (future Ted) from existence. Pokey has Ted as the homeless man sing to Paul about an apocalypse where Paul fails to survive as a clever "inside joke" to mock Paul.

I hope you enjoy my unhinged theory Starkid fandom.

[faerieroyal]

𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘’𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄’𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐒 !

— ❥ 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 + 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞

( warnings: some swearing, mentions of violence )

the first thing will offers to do for you after you’ve started dating is a simple one. the two of you are just hanging out in your living room sofa, his head on your lap and your fingers stroking through his hair, while a made-for-tv movie that neither of you are really paying any attention to plays on the screen in front of you. you haven’t been following the plot of it at all for the last fifteen minutes, instead focused on the silky feeling of the blond strands brushing over your fingertips, and it’s fairly clear that will isn’t either; his eyes are closed most of the way, his face completely relaxed in a way that you haven’t really seen it since the two of you had met, and he looks like he’s about five seconds away from falling asleep as long as you keep up what you’re doing.

eventually, the tv switches from the movie to a commercial, replacing the image of a conventionally pretty woman smiling with tears in her eyes (you’re pretty sure she and her love interest have just confessed their feelings for each other, but you couldn’t say for sure) with the latest model of some kind of all-terrain vehicle driving up a hill to the sound of heavy country music and a scratchy-voiced narrator. the sight of the vehicles brings a memory rushing back into your mind, and, forgetting that you’ve been focused on being quiet and letting will get some rest, you blurt out, “ah, shit, i forgot to fill up my car.”

“hmmm?” will mumbles in response, stirring slightly in your lap. you curse yourself for pulling him out of that nice space between sleeping and waking he seemed to be in, but you also know that if you don’t respond, he’ll keep asking and wake himself up even more. will hates not having clarification, hates when people don’t repeat themselves when someone else hasn’t heard what they’ve said; you imagine it’s because he spent so long in the military, having everything he was supposed to do explained to him clearly, directly, and very loudly.

“i was just saying, i forgot to fill up my car,” you explain, resuming your stroking of his hair in an attempt to lull him back into that sleepy space. “i meant to when i was coming home from the grocery store earlier, but there was a lot of traffic and i got kind of stressed out from that and forgot. i’ll have to leave for work a little earlier tomorrow so i can fill up on the way.”

you imagine that explanation should do it, that will will give a little nod or hum in understanding and relax under your hand again, but he doesn’t. instead, he abruptly heaves himself up from your lap until he’s sitting up beside you, rubbing his eyes, and mumbling, “i’ll go fill it up for you.”

“what?” you ask, your brain being slow to catch up to this sudden change of events. by the time you fully comprehend what’s going on, will has already stood up from the sofa and is grabbing the hoodie he’d shucked off when he’d lain down on you, and you stand up yourself, reaching out for him. “will, no, wait, you don’t have to do that. i’ll just do it tomorrow, it’s fine.”

“yeah, but you hate having to get up so early for work anyway,” he responds, voice muffled as he yanks the hoodie over his head. “it’ll suck if you have to get up even earlier just for this. and i don’t mind saving you the trouble.” you see his face again as it pops out of the neck of the hoodie, his hair messy and eyes still somewhat clouded from being half asleep. “where are your keys?”

“in the bowl right by the door,” you say without thinking, then promptly shake your head. “you really don’t have to do this, i can just-”

“i know i don’t have to,” will cuts you off, looking at you seriously. “but i want to. do you want me to get anything else while i’m gone, like a snack for you or somethin’?”

you just look at him for a minute - a bit confused at the tunr this afternoon has taken, but also marvelling, just a bit, at how you’ve managed to land a guy like this: a guy who will give up a few more hours of lazy cuddling and head pets just to go fill up your car for you. you’re not quite sure what deity or higher power you have to thank for planting will miller into your life, but whoever they are, you think, they definitely do have your thanks.

finally, you shake your head, smiling faintly. “no, thanks, i’m good. but thank you for this, will, seriously.”

he kisses the side of your head, assures you that there’s no need thank him, and despite what you said, returns half an hour later with a small bag of your favorite chips, your gas tank filled, reassurances that you don’t have to pay him back for it, and a smile on his face.

and it doesn’t stop there. after that first time, will starts offering to do a million little things for you without you even thinking of asking you to do them. one of your doors keeps squeaking whenever you open it; he fishes some oil out of your garage and has it opening and closing soundlessly in ten minutes. you groan about having forgotten something when you were grocery shopping; he either goes to get it right then or brings some with him the next time he comes over. you get a little bit nervous about ordering when the two of you go out to a restaurant; he makes sure of what you want and tells the waiter without a hint of judging you for being nervous or anything.

it’s so amazingly, incredibly sweet, all of it. the fact that he barely even seems to think about doing any of these things for you, the fact that he won’t accept any direct repayment for doing them and, in fact, goes a little pink in the ears when you verbally thank him for it and say how sweet it is. and it’s not just you, either; you’ve seen him do similar things for his friends and his brother, fixing up a cracked beam on frankie’s porch when he’s been too overwhelmed with rehab and taking care of his daughter or bailing benny out whenever he gets arrested for getting into a bar fight.

“i know you don’t like it when i say stuff like this,” you tell him one day, as you’re sitting at your kitchen island enjoying the view while he fixes a leaky pipe under your sink in nothing but a white wife beater and sweatpants. “but i really have to thank you.”

“‘s no problem,” he replies, removing his head from under the sink and leaning back on his hands where he sits on your tile floor. “i mean, you can’t keep washing dishes with a leaking pipe, and most plumbers’ll charge you way too much for a fix this easy. ‘m happy to do it for you.”

“i don’t just mean this,” you say, gesturing at the open sink cabinet and the tools in your boyfriend’s hands. “i mean… for everything. everything you do for me and for everyone else, without us even having to ask for it. without ever expecting anything in return. it means a lot, will, it really does.”

predictably, his face flushes just a bit at your words, and he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. it’s ridiculously endearing, you think, seeing this man who’s braved some of the worst horrors known to man turn so shy just from a little gratitude. just another reason you are definitely planning on keeping this guy around for as long as you can.

“well,” he begins, still looking bashful and now staring resolutely at his feet. “i mean, i know i’m not the best with words ‘n all that. me and benny, we just weren’t really raised that way. i mean, he knows i love him ‘n all, i know he loves me, but neither of us are ever uncomfortable just comin’ out and saying it. to each other or anybody else, really. so i guess…” he pauses, lets out a gusty breath before continuing. “doin’ shit like this, fixing up broken stuff and getting groceries ‘n everything, is just sort of my way of saying it. making people’s lives a little bit easier where i can is my way of saying it. that make sense?”

he looks up at you then, and you’re surprised by the nervousness in his eyes - the fact that he thinks this, being more comfortable with acts of service than words, is something you would ever judge him for. it makes you think of what other people he’s dated might have said to him about this kind of thing, which then makes you kind of want to wrap him up in a hug and never let him go.

you know he probably wouldn’t react well to that, though - as much as this man loves affection, he doesn’t know how to react to it a lot of the time - so you settle for smiling softly at him from your seat at the island, hoping that this along with the look in your eyes conveys exactly how much you would never judge him.

“it makes perfect sense,” you assure him, voice soft and impossibly fond. “and for the record - if this is how you show your love, then i think it’s a pretty good way of doing it.”

a fond, bashful smile creeping onto his face, will lets out a soft chuckle. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

and that’s that. the two of you smile at each other for another silent, sweet moment, and then he goes back to fixing your sink pipe, and you go back to watching him. watching him say, with every twist of his wrench now and every little helpful action in the past and every one to come, i love you, i love you, i love you.

triple frontier taglist: @hiya-itsamber, @fairyofthehollow !

general taglist: @maddipoof, @thatmagickjuju, @talkingturnedtoscreamss, @malafvma, @auxiliarydetective, @heliads, @oneirataxia-girl !

( send me an ask if you want to be added to a taglist !! )

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Art by treein

Haven't seen a pure one-shot from you. Can you make a one-shot of a yandere Ashley who got rejected for prom?

I will certainly try! :D

TW: Mentions of alcohol and spiked punch, Character Death, Depictions of a dead body, Violence, Ashley Graves steps on the reader and not in a hot way, reader is kind of a dick

[One-Shot] Rejecting Ashley Graves’ Prom Invitation

The music echoed throughout the neon lit gymnasium, blaring from speakers you’re sure hadn’t been touched since last year’s prom. You and your peers were packed into the room like sardines in a can, but no one seemed to mind. Any chaperones assigned to make sure the students “saved room for Jesus” when dancing with their dates, were blackout drunk and slumped against the chairs set around the circular tables. It was essentially a free for all.

You stood by the snack table, about two foldout tables with light purple tablecloths draped over them….at least you thought it was purple. The only others provided were various color changing lights, and even then it still made it hard to see. What you could see was the mass of people gathered in the center as the DJ/Janitor played remixes of popular songs on the radio. Your own friends among the mass, dancing with their dates- faces flushed from the spiked punch.

Your smile for them faded slowly as the reminder of your current positioned dawned on you once again. You hadn’t come to prom alone, no- you arrived with your friends and your own date but…you hadn’t seen her since she left to use the bathroom. It wasn’t a very big gym, even with the people….she would’ve eventually found you. Then again it was dark.

You had looked for her earlier, even sneaking behind the bleachers to not find your date- but rather two of your classmates rawdogging it among the dust and cobwebs. You- you could’ve gone a lifetime not needing to see that. Having gone to find your friends after….that….made you discover that they hadn’t seen your date either. It was strange.

Maybe she ditched you. And before you could really do anything to fuck it up badly. You now know how the weird kids felt at prom, standing and observing from the snack table like a freak.

You glance down the lined up tables at the few other kids who decided to show up despite not having a date or friends to go with. It was pitiful really. Why go, you’re just outing yourself at that point. At least you had friends….who abandoned you for grinding against their dates- but you had them!

Against your better judgement, you looked among the dots of freaks for one in particular….wondering if she came.

Ashley Graves, the resident crazy chick. You’re 90% sure she’s an undiagnosed psychopath, with rumors of her doing heinous things floating around. Stabbing a girl’s eye out with a pencil for looking at her wrong, throwing her childhood pet hamster from her four-story balcony, being involved with her brother- that last one you didn’t believe for a couple of reasons. One, her brother was already dating a girl- Julia Lamb. You shared an English class with her and she’s really sweet, Ashley’s brother is lucky. Second reason is because Ashley had asked you to go to prom with her.

She slipped the card into your locker- you don’t know how she found out which one was yours but she did. The handwriting was illegible, with a scribbled drawing of you inside. It was…off putting. Like something a serial killer would make while on death row. You managed to find Ashley and break it to her gently that you wouldn’t be going to prom with her- mostly cause you didn’t have a fucking death wish- but then she went berserk. She took her dumb card and tore it to shreds, throwing them at your feet and shoving you over as she stomped away in a temper tantrum.

You don’t even know why she wanted to go with you, it’s not like you were friends. You had lunch with her one time, and it was mainly out of pity. You took the outburst as dodging a bullet and went with someone you actually liked.

And by hell, you were going to find and spend the night with her.

You moved away from the snack table, making your way to the locker rooms where the bathrooms were. No one was really paying attention, so you went into the girls one. Slowly- the music became muffled, and your eyes were no longer assaulted by neon. No- rather the darkness of the locker room- save for a single overhead light that flickered- giving it an ominous look. Your shoulders tensed, debating whether or not you should really check and see if she was still in the bathroom…but you didn’t want to spend this night alone. You push your fears down along with everything else you choose to ignore, making your way through the maze of lockers.

You preciously stepped over left behind equipment, scrunching your nose at the faint stench of sweat- until you paused. A light. A bright one at that. Turning the corner of a wall of lockers showed you the showers, and the faint sound of one running.

You were hesitant, worried to have another situation like under the bleachers….but you heard no indications of debauchery. The flimsy shower stream wouldn’t have been loud enough to cover it. So- you make your way over to the bright area, like a moth to a flame.

You wished you hadn’t.

You stared wide eyed at the floor. When making your way to the final shower stall, you hadn’t expected to find your date.

Well- at least not like this.

Her face had several lacerations, almost making her unidentifiable. Her blonde hair stained red at the ends with her own blood, as her dress. Her eyes were glazed over, and she looked pale. The sight was gruesome. You wanted to throw up, but you brought your hand to your mouth to hold it back. You supported your weight against the wall, heavy breaths leaving your panicking body as you asked yourself who could do shock a thing.

You learned quickly as you felt a blunt object hit the back of your head, sending you crashing to the wet tiled ground beside your date. Her watered down blood stained your hands and clothes, you stumbled to look behind you- the culprit’s figure being obscured by the bright lights behind them. They wore a slim dress with a ribbon around the waist- tied neatly at the side in a bow. At their side was a knife, though held in a way you could clobber someone with the handle. It didn’t register who this could be until you saw the ponytail.

“A-Ashley?!” You stammered, fearful for your life.

“Bingo-Bongo bitch!” She raised the knife, slashing it across your chest. You hissed in pain, trying to protect your body as she slashed at your back.

“Stop! Stop!” You pleaded, letting out sobs from the pain. She got tired of cutting into you and started digging her heels into your cuts, stomping you into the ground like you were nothing more than a bug.

“So THIS is who you rejected me over?!” She gestured to your date, still dead as a doornail beside you, “Well fuck you! I don’t need a hussy fucking asshole!”

She kicked you against the wall, the tip of her heel winding you over and over again as she let out hell on your abdomen.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” She screamed over and over and over as she wailed on your body. How was no one coming to help you!? Could they not hear her over their shitty music!??

Blood dripped from your mouth, clutching your abdomen in pain as you looked up at her helplessly.

“Please….I…I didn’t mean to upset you,” you coughed out weakly, “Please….please don’t kill me.” You choked on your tears.

She watched you for a moment, whimpering pathetically for mercy, before she narrowed her eyes in disgust.

“Rot in hell.”

With that, everything went dark as you felt a hot, burning pain in your chest as she plunged her knife directly into your beating heart.

[seducemefanficsandheadcanons]

Wanted to be

Ship- One sided Matthew x Mika. Mutual Mika x James.

TW- Angst, pining, hurt/no comfort, jealousy, self esteem issues

Also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad

Enjoy~

Matthew had it all planned out.

He wasn’t always great at planning, at least not in a very organized fashion. He remembered the time he was in charge of helping his mother plan a party…he wasn’t all that helpful. The decorations were a mess, and no one had proper coordinates of where everything was supposed to go. 

After that experience, no one really asked him to be in charge of planning, even when arriving in the human world. He’d help bake treats and cook food for parties his brothers and Mika have thrown, but James usually took care of the actual planning aspect.

This is important, though, Matthew thought to himself as he looked at the different items in his room. It included a purple plushie, some chocolates, and a bouquet of Mika’s favorite flowers. He’d repeated his confession speech again and again.

When Matthew met Mika…it felt like he’d realized what he’d been missing. In the demon world, he always felt incomplete. Not just because he was treated like a child, but because something was missing. Something he’d never had before.

Even after coming to the human world, he always knew there was something more for him out there. 

And when he met Mika, everything seemed to click. It was cheesy, but he felt like she held the other part of his heart. He’d never felt more complete than when they were hanging out, playing video games or baking. The sound of her triumphant laughter when she’d kick his ass at COD was a sound he hoped to hear again and again. The way her eyes would light up each time he’d surprise her with her favorite snacks was a sight he hoped to see again and again.

He’d managed to keep his feelings a secret from his brothers, even Damien. How he’d managed to keep it to himself for so long, he’ll never be sure. It took many hours of blasting music in his earbuds so his thoughts were inaudible to the mind reading brother. It took many fake smiles when Mika would go on dates with people she met through work or college, though none of them stuck around. Not like any of them would ever be good enough for her.

She deserved the world.

Matthew took a deep breath. I can do this. I just need to tell her the truth.

His mind was filled with uncertainty, worry, but also excitement for the possibilities ahead. The worst she can say is no, right? 

Though, even if that is the worst thing she can do, Matthew’s stomach twisted at the idea.

He shook it off quickly, he needed to do this. Even if she didn’t reciprocate, he wouldn’t want to go forever thinking ‘what if.’

Finding his resolve, Matthew began picking up the different items he’d gotten for her. Maybe he’d gone a bit overboard…oh well. After some careful adjusting, he was able to carry everything and still open the door to his room. He began carefully walking downstairs into the lobby, which was pretty quiet. It was nothing out of the usual for this time of the evening.

What was unusual was that Mika wasn’t in any of her usual spots. First, he checked the living room, where Sam and Damien were sitting, but not Mika. He checked the study next, which was empty. He checked the library, leading him to find Erik. The last place he checked was her room, but there was no answer when he knocked.

He knew she hadn’t left the mansion either, where was she???

There was one last place he could check, though. He began making his way to the backdoor, his stomach fluttering. She had to be here! This is it, it’s time. Don’t screw this up.

He opened the door, causing a quiet creaking noise to quietly reverberate in the air. The chilly wind caused a brief shiver to run down Matthew’s spine as he stepped outside. He began looking around the yard for her.

Come on, where is she? She couldn’t have gone too far-

Matthew’s heart lurched in his throat when he finally saw her.

But it wasn’t the usual feeling he got when his eyes landed on her. He was used to the ache in his chest, the squeezing of his heart every time he caught an unexpected glimpse of her.

But this time, it was painful.

It felt like someone had stomped on his chest.

Because she wasn’t alone.

…James…

Their lips were interlocked in a passionate kiss, his hands pressing the small of her back as hers tangled in his messy black hair. They were both so in the moment that they didn’t even notice Matthew.

…he’d been too late.

Of course it was James she’d chosen. He’d always been the ‘better’ option, according to everyone in the abyssal plains.

He was frozen for a moment, watching as his oldest brother held and kissed the women he loved. It was surreal. A part of him expected to be rejected, but…

Silently, and as quickly as possible, Matthew rushed inside. He needed out, he needed away. He couldn’t bear to see another minute of this. He scrambled around his room, quickly trying to put away his gifts for her before Damien could see.

He felt mortified, he felt heartbroken. He felt like the missing piece of his heart he was so close to getting was torn away from him.

James could treat her amazingly.

…but so could Matthew…

He couldn’t help his jealousy. His regret. He wanted in that moment nothing more than to go back in time. What if he’d told her sooner? Would she still have chosen James over her?

Would he ever be her choice, in any universe?

Is he destined to be in the shadow of his eldest brother? In all aspects of his life?

A part of him knew he couldn’t be mad at James. He deserved happiness, and so did Mika. But fuck, that didn’t make it any less painful.

He wanted to be the one she kissed.

He wanted to be the one she held.

He wanted to be the one she loved.

He wanted to be the one.

But it was always James. It will always be James.