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thebiggerbear · 4 months

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Tom Hanniger x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: Tom has taken you hostage. This is not the Tom you knew and fell in love with. Unable to escape, can you get him to trust you and maybe even reach him?

Pairing: Tom Hanniger x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. So, just out of the gate, not gonna lie, this is one of the most fucked up things I've ever written and probably the darkest. Story wise I mean. There's something about Tom and that world from the movie that I love exploring. Before I knew it, this was nearing 18K and I was like "Crap, time to wrap this up!" I still enjoyed the exploration of Tom and the reader though in the dynamic they're in during this one.

I tried my best do my research and be respectful in regards to DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) but also keep this a few years post-movie (2009) while also staying within the context the movie provided but also explore a bit, if that makes sense. Please note I do not work in the psychiatry, psychology, or medical fields. If I got anything appallingly incorrect about this disorder, its symptoms, its treaments, anything, please let me know. Also, I think it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway), not every single person who has been diagnosed with DID is violent or a threat to others nor are their alters violent or a threat to others. Obviously, this is just a work of fanfiction based on a fictional story where the main character had an alter that was violent and a threat to everyone. No harm or disrespect is intended with this fanfiction at all.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: explicit violence; hostage situation; mentions of knives; dubcon; sex (smut-light); explicit descriptions of murder; mentions of burying a body; explicit threats of physical violence; explicit threat of sexual violence; explicit threat of neonaticide (I highly recommend looking this word up if you don't know what it means so you can decide if you still want to read from there; I didn't feel comfortable spelling it out here to be honest); physical threat of neonaticide; explicit threats of murder; mention of past sexual violence; mention of past sexual assault; implied past domestic abuse; misogynistic language; language

Word Count: 18k+

Tom Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

<-->

When you came to, you glanced around the cabin you were currently tied up in. Tears blurred your vision, strands of your hair matted to your face, and you could feel the gag cutting tightly into the sides of your mouth. You didn’t bother trying to yell or make noise. You knew the cabin you were in since Tom had brought you here once to see it; there was no one and nothing around for miles. The next town over where Tom could get supplies was the closest thing and that was about an hour’s drive.

How had things gone so wrong? You tried to be a good person, you always tried to do the right thing…so how did you end up here?

You already knew the answer to that, though. Because you let him in. Literally, right through your front door.

As if your thoughts summoned him, Tom appeared from the kitchen with two plates in hand and a huge grin, despite a black eye and cut lip he was sporting. He laid yours down in front of you and you could see chicken parmesan, your favorite, surrounded by linguini and green beans. He then placed down his own plate in front of his empty chair before turning back to you with a look of determination. “Alright. Let’s get this off you. No screaming, okay?” He asked, using a softer tone than you’d heard from him all day. “No struggling. And no running.” As if there was any point in screaming or running; no one would hear you and he’d catch you before you made it ten feet. He loosened your gag and pushed it down past your chin to hang around your neck. When you didn’t scream, he graced you with a warm smile. “Good girl,” he murmured as he began working on the ropes tying your hands to the chair. When he moved down to the ones on your legs, you rubbed at your sore wrists, noting a few surface cuts around your arms. He noticed and a frown formed on his face. “Sorry, I won’t tie them as tightly next time,” he promised. You didn’t know what else to do but nod.

When he was finished, he sat up and his fingers gently gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. His green gaze bore into yours and he tenderly trailed the backs of his fingers against your cheek, almost watching you in some sort of odd reverence that you had no idea existed until the last couple of months. He began to lean in, presumably to try and kiss you like he had earlier, but he must have thought better of it and stopped, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he got to his feet. While you were grateful he hadn’t connected his lips to yours, you had to wonder what deterred him and that made you worry. He studied you for a moment and, just as you feared, he then made his way over to the other chair being used, his soft expression immediately hardening and his warm eyes icing over as they settled on your estranged husband.

He grabbed the back of the chair and dragged him away from the table, choosing to dump him in a corner on his side, making Miles groan in pain. Tom kicked him for good measure and you heard Miles yell out against the gag in his mouth.

“Please,” burst out of you. “Please, Tom, don’t!”

Tom’s glare snapped up towards you. “After everything he’s done to you, don’t tell me you’re still protecting him.”

You knew you had to act quickly, to cajole Tom so you could draw his focus away from Miles. You were the only reason Miles wasn’t dead yet, you knew that without a doubt. “I’m not,” you soothed. “I just want to eat the dinner you went to the trouble of making for me. It’s been hours since I last ate and I really need to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry, too. Please, just come and sit down.”

Thankfully, Tom’s eyes softened a little at your pleading but he still gave Miles one more good kick that made you flinch before he came over to join you. He pulled a knife out of his jacket which made your heart start to pound a little faster but he simply smiled as he also produced a plastic fork. He leaned down and began to cut your chicken into bite size pieces for you. “I, uh, I’ve never made chicken parmesan before so I hope it’s alright,” he told you, a shy smile on his face. You marveled at how he could go from being the scariest thing you’d seen in your life one minute to being the sweetest and most humble guy you’d ever met in the next. “And I know green beans aren’t what would usually go with this dish but I didn’t really have anything else.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“I’m okay with green beans,” you quietly assured him.

He dropped his hand and smiled, looking relieved and leaning in to tenderly kiss you. You tried your best not to tense up as he did. Tom then made his way over to his seat, leaving you the fork but not the knife. Not only did he not want to chance you using it on him but he most likely didn’t want you using it on yourself either. You never would but he obviously wasn’t too sure about that. You watched as he poured both of you a glass of sparkling cider and sat down a few battery-operated candles between you.

When he handed you your glass, you were disappointed to find it was plastic. He really had thought of everything. He misread your expression and assured you, “I know it’s not the best but I wanted something nice for you for dinner. I’ll get something better though, next time I’m in town. I promise.” You offered up a thin-lipped smile and a nod which seemed to placate him for the time being. So he planned to keep you for a while then. You only hoped Miles would keep his mouth shut and that you could get Tom to start trusting you as you waited for an opportunity that might come your way with the aforementioned trip to town.

Tom took the seat across from you, smiling, and reached over to touch his glass to yours. You watched as he took a sip and after a moment, you joined him, making him grin happily.

As hungry as you were, you weren’t in a rush to eat anything that he had prepared for you out of sight. What if he was intent on drugging you? You weren’t even sure if he hadn’t before. You barely remembered how you got here. All you knew was Miles showed up, having found you, and Tom reacted, then nothing until you woke up here. The only other thing you remembered was blonde hair and so much blood— You tried to shut that thought out. Thinking about Tom again, If he planned to keep you here for a while, he’d have to sleep at some point and he could be planning to drug you then, like right now. And God only knew what he planned to do with Miles; you prayed you could somehow convince him to let the man go while you stayed behind (even though that would be just as dangerous for you). Though Tom hadn’t been wrong; Miles didn’t deserve your compassion. But that didn’t mean you wanted to watch the man you’d once shared a life with die brutally either. If Tom’s distaste for your husband was anything to go by, if he decided to end Miles, it would indeed be brutal.

“Something wrong?”

The question snapped you out of your reverie. You glanced up to find Tom watching you worriedly. You forced a reassuring smile onto your face. “No. Of course not.”

“I thought you needed to eat.” His eyes bored into you, flicking back and forth from the plate to you.

“I will. I’m just…taking it slow.”

He frowned at your food. “It’s not that good, is it?”

“What? No. No,” you worked to reassure him. “It’s just that…” You didn’t want to voice the words and chance angering him.

“Just what?” When you couldn’t think of a way to phrase it and kept quiet instead, he urged you in a softer tone, “Eat, sweetheart.”

You realized then that you had no choice but to take a few bites if you didn’t want to do anything to anger or upset him. You hoped to God that there was nothing in it.

Almost as if he read your mind, his jaw tightened as he went to spear more chicken with his fork on his plate. “There’s nothing in it if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t do that to you.” His eyes lifted to yours, that soft reverence back in them. “To either of you.” He flicked them to your round stomach in meaning and then back to you again.

You wanted to believe him, especially when he looked at you like that, but wouldn’t it be easier for him to be rid of the child that wasn’t his? Then again, he hadn’t killed Miles yet and he fancied himself in love with you, and you were currently housing said child… Perhaps he truly didn’t mean your baby harm, while it was in utero at least.

Tom let out a heavy sigh and dropped the fork, making it clatter against his plate. He was now scowling over at you, clearly displeased at your show of distrust in him. Uh oh.

Now definitely without a choice, you took a forkful of chicken and slowly bit into it. He seemed pleased with the action and after a moment, continued to eat himself. As you quietly chewed, you realized that it wasn’t half bad, and you were starving. As scared as you were, you knew you would need to keep up your energy for any opportunity to escape, to get you and your baby to safety, and truthfully, you needed to take any chance at a meal that you could. Tom smiled to himself as you really dug in.

You had halfway cleaned your plate when you heard “So it’s okay?”

You stopped to see Tom sitting there, leaning forward and watching your every movement, the biggest grin on his face. You swallowed down the chicken you had just stuffed into your mouth and held a hand over your lips self-consciously. “Good,” you admitted quietly. “Very…good.”

Satisfied with that answer and himself, he sat back in his chair and continued to smile over at you. Though it was unnerving, you continued to finish your meal, your goal being to keep your strength up for your baby. When you were done, he got to his feet and grabbed his plate, slowly making his way over to you. Your heart pounded with each heavy footstep and it nearly stopped when he reached you.

Tom grabbed your empty plate and slid his still half-full one in front of you, placing your fork onto it. When you turned a puzzled expression up towards him, he leaned down and pecked your lips, murmuring to you, “You two need it more than I do.” He kissed you one more time before he walked away, heading into the kitchen. You watched him go in shock, thoughts racing in your mind. Knowing he had eaten some of the food and remembering his promise, after mulling it over for a minute or two, you then dug in, your focus on the chicken and green beans. You needed as much energy as you could get.

<-->

He spooned you that night after insisting you take the only bed in the place — his bed. You felt him press a tender kiss to the back of your neck every few minutes and while that made you uncomfortable, his hands gently rubbing your belly had you absolutely terrified. You imagined all sorts of horrible things as you laid there in the dark, with only a shaft of moonlight sneaking into the room through an opening in the curtains. You kept expecting a knife to be pulled, a fist to collide with your bump, to feel the stab of a hypodermic needle — something. It got so bad that you started to shake and Tom, thinking you were cold, moved the blanket over you both a little higher before resuming his ministrations. You wanted nothing more than to throw his hands off of you and get out of the bed, moving away from him. It was one thing for him to have his hands on you, though now it made your skin crawl in the worst way, but your baby…you would give anything to keep him away from the one person you’d do anything to protect.

You were frozen in fear despite the tremors of your body. You felt the baby move and while that should have overjoyed you like it usually did, it caused tears to start rolling down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you. How much longer would you get to feel that? How much longer would Tom allow you to keep your baby?

“Oh,” he exhaled against your neck. “She’s kicking.”

You closed your eyes, forcing more tears to fall, as your lips trembled. You thought back to the first time he’d come into contact with your baby this way. You had been such a fool — such a blind, trusting, naive fool.

You were cleaning a wooden frame of a painting with a rag when you felt the familiar movement within your tummy. “Oh,” you chuckled, holding a hand to the side of your stomach.

“Are you okay?”

You glanced up to find Tom up on a ladder, watching you with furrowed brows. You gave him a bright smile. “Yeah, of course. The baby’s kicking. Come down here, quick.”

Still looking worried, Tom hurried down the ladder and approached you.

“Give me your hand.” You grabbed the hand he offered up and placed it right where you had just felt movement. Tom glanced back and forth between you and your stomach, looking unsure for what he should be feeling.

A moment later, the baby kicked again. “There! You feel it?”

You knew he must have because an expression of surprise and awe came over his handsome face as he stared down where you held his hand.

Another kick happened and it made you laugh. “Oh, she’s very active today.”

Tom smiled over at you. “You’re having a girl?”

“Well, I don’t really know what I’m having yet but,” You grinned, feeling yet another kick. “I hope it is.”

“Then I hope it is, too.” You glanced up to find him watching you with that soft look you’d seen before. You gently squeezed his hand in thanks and then focused again on your bump.

Tom had been helping you restore the old house you’d moved into. You felt comfortable around Tom, he put you immediately at ease when you met. He’d been a huge help to you and when you had moments like that, you just chalked it up to him maybe having a little crush on you. At least that’s what Cindy, a new friend of yours (and the realtor who’d helped you find the place), said the first time she’d seen you two together when she stopped by to see how you were doing and how the house was coming along. But you never thought anything more of it. Tom never made a move or asked you out. He also never encroached on your personal space without invitation or pushed past your boundaries. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable. As you got to know him, you began to trust him.

But now, you wondered how you could have ever been so stupid.

“You feel that, Y/N?” He breathed, grabbing your hand and holding it to your stomach. “She kicked again.” His tone was so full of wonder and happy surprise that you immediately started to cry. His hand traveled from your stomach up to your hair, smoothing it away from your face. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” You could hear the sudden concern.

“Are you going to kill my baby?” You choked out on a sob.

You felt him turn you onto your back so he could look down at you. He looked less than pleased but he murmured, “No. I told you, I would never hurt either of you. I love you.” He inclined his head towards your stomach. “And her. Everything I’m doing is for you both. I wish you would believe me, Y/N.”

“I really want to,” you cried.

He wiped at your tears and stroked your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you. This time, you opened up for him when he sought entrance beyond your lips and you knew he was pleased by the little groan he let escape into your mouth. You didn’t protest when his hands roamed all over your body, thankfully steering clear of your stomach. You didn’t say a word when he stripped you of your clothes, whispering “Beautiful” as he uncovered every inch of your skin. You didn’t fight when he urged you to open up for him and his tender touch brought you to heights you had never reached before with a partner other than him that left you gasping for air. As you shivered and shook, unable to keep from crying out, and dug your fingernails into his arm, he smiled lovingly down at you. While you came back down, he pressed kisses to your hair, face, and lips. He watched you, almost if he was waiting for something, so you hesitantly reached out for the button on his jeans, thinking you now needed to return the favor, when he stopped you.

“This was about you,” he murmured before kissing you. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”

You nodded, not wanting to disagree in the slightest. He pulled the blankets up over your naked form and urged you onto your side again, away from him. He spooned you once more and placed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe.” His hand then cupped over your belly protectively. “Both of you.”

You bit your lip to keep the tears from starting up again. God, you hoped that was true.

<-->

The next morning, you woke up alone, feeling groggier than usual. You panicked for a moment, thinking Tom may have drugged you after all, but you remembered you hadn’t eaten or drunk anything before you went to sleep. You also didn’t find any obvious injection sites when you searched your body in the bathroom, using both mirrors to your advantage. You chalked it up to everything that happened yesterday. It had been taxing on you, mentally and physically. You were just exhausted and needed more sleep. You might even need a nap today, if only you could relax enough to take one. Though you didn’t see that happening anytime soon. You dressed and made your way out to the main room, worried about where Tom was, though you felt a little relief seeing Miles in the room, still breathing.

You found Tom in the kitchen, making you breakfast, and he gave you a big smile when he saw you. “Morning, Beautiful.” He leaned down and pecked your lips, giving a gentle stroke to your belly with his free hand. “My two beautiful girls.” You forced a smile and hugged him from behind, laying your head against his back, just like you used to do. You hoped that the gesture of affection would keep him just like this, a semblance of the Tom you’d known before Miles ever showed up. It must’ve worked because he squeezed your arms with his free hand and continued cooking.

Thankfully, this time when you sat down at the table, he didn’t tie you to the chair. Instead, he smiled at you as he placed the plate of eggs in front of you and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Eat, sweetheart,” he urged. “And then I want to show you something.”

You nodded, immediately digging in and not wanting to displease him.

His smile grew as he watched you and he leaned down once more to kiss your temple. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. His hand slipped down to your belly and gave it a rub. “My girls,” he corrected, before walking back into the kitchen.

Miles, who was still gagged and tied to his chair, glared over at you from the corner of the room. At some point before you came out of the bedroom earlier, Tom had righted his chair so now he could watch every single thing you and Tom did. You weren’t exactly sure what Tom was planning but you didn’t like it. You especially didn’t like that the man who had terrorized you for years was currently staring at you with pure hatred, as if he’d like to kill you, as if all of this was somehow your fault. In a way, you supposed it was because had you not let Tom into your life in the first place, this wouldn’t be happening. But then again, had Miles left you alone and not coming looking for you, Tom wouldn’t have snapped. At least, you don’t think he would have. And Cindy would still be alive.

“Fucking crazy bitch.” Your eyes snapped to Miles who was still scowling at you. Whatever he said was usually muffled by his gag but you could hear it clear as day. You frowned and went back to your food.

Tom reappeared just then and placed a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He gave you a nod, seeming pleased, until he noticed Miles glaring over at you. You watched the change happen within his expression and suddenly you knew you needed to intervene and quickly. Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed his hand, prompting him to look down at you.

“I need to get exercise. For the baby. Will you take me for a walk after I’m done?”

His eyes briefly softened while the rest of him did not. “Of course.” He dropped your hand and moved around the table, coming to a stop in front of Miles. “You keep looking at her like that and I’ll cut your eyes out and feed them to you,” he threatened with a menacing edge to his tone. “Don’t forget, the only reason you’re even still breathing is because of her.” Tom straightened up, a terrifying smirk on his face, before he punched MIles. You winced, dropping your fork to your plate.

Miles turned back to glare up at Tom, more blood seeping into his gag. “Fuck you, you piece of shit! Fuck you and that fucking crazy whore!” He yelled against the gag. Tom gave him one more punch for good measure, causing Miles to yell out in pain, before he walked away, that smirk still on his face. You watched as Tom sat down across from you and tucked into his own breakfast, seemingly unbothered by what just occurred. You quickly glanced over at Miles, seeing him still glaring but blood coming out of his broken nose.

“He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”

You quickly looked back at Tom to find him watching you, not glaring so much but also not seeming pleased.

You gripped your fork tightly but forced yourself to keep a smooth expression. “It’s not sympathy, but pity. Pity that he doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.” You turned a glare over on your husband who more than gladly returned it.

When you turned back to Tom, he was studying you, smirking. “Finish your breakfast, sweetheart, so I can show you my surprise and then we can go for that walk.”

You did as he instructed, digging into the fruit, not wanting to displease him any further. Thankfully, though, he seemed to be mollified, for now.

<-->

You stared around you in horror, your knees feeling weak. You held onto the wall for support.

Tom had taken your hand and led you to a small room in the back of the cabin that you had no idea existed, near the bedroom you had spent the night in. He smiled at you and told you to shut your eyes when you arrived at the closed door. You did as he instructed, not wanting to make him angry. He opened the door, led you into the room with his hands over your eyes, and then asked if you were ready. You nodded and he dropped his hands as you opened your eyes and looked around you, your jaw dropping.

“Surprise,” he crowed. “What do you think?”

You were thinking you were going to be sick. You were staring at an exact replica of the nursery you and Tom had put together back in your house, right down to the crib sheet, mobile, paint colors, and night light. Everything you had purchased for your nursery, he had obviously gone and bought a double of to place here. You even spotted the same rocking chair in the corner, the same changing table, and the same toys and books you’d decorated the room with. The same stuffed animals sat in the crib. Even a double of the breast pump machine you’d bought was sitting on the changing table.

“What do you think?” Tom asked happily as he glanced around. “Is it just like the one we put together back at your place?”

You robotically walked to the changing table, opening the cabinets underneath, and you saw the same outfits you’d bought, folded and arranged in the exact same way. You held a hand to your mouth; you felt the urge to scream but you couldn’t let it out. You started to shake. How long had he been planning this? To kidnap you and your baby and bring you both here?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said from behind you, forcing you to tense up and drop your hand, schooling your features before you turned to look up at him. He was watching you worriedly. “I only did this as a back-up. In case we ever had to come out here. If that bastard out there ever tracked you down and we had to leave quickly, I wanted to make sure you and our daughter had everything you needed.”

Our daughter. It felt like you were falling into an endless void and you would never wake up from this nightmare. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You managed to ask.

He framed your face with his hands. “I didn’t want to worry you. And I figured it would be a nice surprise if we ever did have to come here. A little piece of home.” He gave you a soft smile. “Do you like it?”

You nodded, not sure what else to do, not able to say anything right then. He grinned and kissed you, happy that you liked the surprise. You thought you’d been in trouble before when he tied you up and brought you out here where no one could hear you scream. Now, you realized, you were in so much more trouble than you’d even imagined.

<-->

Tom held your hand as you both walked the property. Thoughts were racing through your mind but you did your best to pay attention to every inch of the land that he took you to.

“You’ve been quiet.” If you closed your eyes, you could swear you could hear the Tom that had become your friend and confidante over the months you’d worked on your house together.

“Just…overwhelmed. And tired.”

Tom stopped in his tracks and your heart rate picked up, worried you had somehow said something wrong.

He turned to you, staring into your eyes, a layer of concern shadowing his expression. “I know this has been a lot and it’s an adjustment. But I promise you, Y/N, all I want is for our family to be together. Without having to worry about sick fucks like the one in there,” He inclined his head back towards the cabin. “Who want to threaten that, who want to hurt you.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “And Cindy?”

His jaw tightened and he looked away. “She wasn’t your friend.”

“She was,” you choked out. “And she was a good one.”

His gaze snapped back to yours and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “No, she wasn’t, sweetheart. How do you think he found you?”

You shook your head, shaking a few tears loose. No, you refused to believe it. He was just trying to trick you into believing it so you would see things his way. “No. She wouldn’t do that. No.”

Tom wiped your tears away and you could see pity staring back at you. For a cold-blooded killer, it threw you for a loop that he could feel anything like pity or worry for you or concern for the baby or any other emotion besides anger, jealousy, and hatred. “When he showed up in her office, he asked where you were and she told him, point blank. No hesitation, just ‘here’s the address’. He even admitted it.”

“No, he lies. He probably showed up in uniform and that’s why she—”

“She knew better. You told her that was a possibility, you told her his name so she could be on the lookout. And still, she didn’t think twice about it and sent him over to find you.”

“No, she would’ve called me to warn me if that happened, if she had no choice. Maybe that’s why she was there…to warn me.”

He gave you a look. “She wasn’t your friend, Y/N. She gossiped about you behind your back. She came onto me at the Christmas party, though I had gone there with you.”

That revelation surprised you but honestly, you didn’t know what was up or down anymore, never mind the truth. “We went as friends. We weren’t together then.”

“She knew I liked you, that I wanted to be with you.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth.

You waited until he straightened back up. “That’s still no reason to kill her,” you gritted out, a tear rolling down your cheek.

He looked at you sadly, wiping the tear away. “I know.”

Your brows drew together in confusion. You hadn’t expected that response.

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead and tightened his grip on your hand. “It’s pretty cold out. Let’s get you back inside where you can get warm.”

You let him lead you back to the cabin, turning that last part of the conversation over and over in your mind. From the sound of it, he knew his killing of Cindy had been wrong. A spark of hope started up in your chest though you were afraid to trust it. He still had you and Miles captive here, after all.

<-->

That night, as he spooned you from behind in his bed, he was kissing your neck, his hands moving all over your body. You could feel his erection digging into your back. “I love you so much,” he murmured to your skin. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart. You and me. And our little girl.” He placed his hand on your belly, trailing his lips up to your jaw. You closed your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks, and you tried to imagine the Tom who had first made love to you nearly a month ago, who had sweetly kissed your baby bump every time he left the house and every time he came home. You held onto that Tom in your mind as he undressed you, then himself, probed you to make sure you were ready, and slid into you from behind, sighing happily into your neck as he did. He gently pumped his hips into yours and you could feel his hand making its way down between your legs, touching you in a similar way to how he had touched you last night, with complete tenderness. “We were meant to find each other,” he grunted into your ear as you arched your back and laid your head against his shoulder, reacting to his touch. “Be a family.” You tried to ignore his words and only focus on the pleasure coursing through you. He’d said these things to you before, back when he was your Tom, and you’d believed him.

You could hear the old bed creaking beneath you and you could feel his rhythm increasing, the moans and sweet whispers in your ear picking up in frequency. You knew he was close and you squeezed your eyes shut harder, trying to imagine you and him back in your bed at your house, as if nothing had changed between you. That image helped bring you closer to the edge and you reached an arm back, gripping his hair, crying out as you got even closer and closer. His pace increased and the headboard was knocking against the wall now, his groans sounding out in rapid succession, almost tangling with your cries in midair, joining together in an almost impassioned chorus. Lost in your fantasy and the sensations you were feeling, you moaned out, “Kiss me.” Tom’s mouth was on yours, his tongue sweeping against your own, and that pushed you over the edge. You stiffened and he swallowed your cries, grunting loudly himself and intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing as he fell over his own edge. You were still shaking a couple of minutes later when he slipped out of you and gently rolled you onto your back as you caught your breath.

You could see him beaming down at you, still panting himself, his hair messy from your fingers, eyes bright and full of adoration for you. The same way he’d looked the other times you’d had sex in the past. It made your heart soar but also break mid-flight. “I love you.” You saw how much he meant it and your heart completely shattered.

Your eyes filled with tears as you reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I love you, too,” you whispered. And you did, this version of Tom, anyway. His smile grew and he laid his head down on your chest, sighing in contentment as you ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. Tears dripped down your cheeks as you held him, wondering how the universe could be so cruel as to send someone to you that loved you and your baby so much only to have him turn out to be a cold-blooded killer.

<-->

You woke up alone again, even groggier than the day before. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if Tom was actually drugging you in some way once you fell asleep. You had held him until he fell asleep himself last night but obviously, at some point, he must have woken up after you passed out.

You felt irritable, which was most likely a side effect of the grogginess you felt and possibly whatever Tom was drugging you with, as well as typical pregnancy hormones. It was so bad that you couldn’t even be bothered to drum up a smile for Tom who was looking at you like you were the best thing that existed on the planet. You took the food he gave you and dug in, not even thanking him like you usually made sure to do.

You felt off and when he spoke softly to you, “Eat, sweetheart, and then we’ll go for another walk”, you nearly snapped at him, demanding to know what he’d been drugging you with and why. You’d only just held yourself back, reminding yourself you weren’t supposed to say or do anything that would anger him.

Miles, though, was fair game.

He had called you names, though muffled by the gag, the minute Tom stepped out of the room. You ignored him as best you could, though it still got under your skin. Who the hell was he to sit there and call you things like “whore” and “slut”? Even if he had heard you and Tom together last night? Was he so stupid that he didn’t realize the predicament he was in, that you all were in? Had Tom’s threats and beatings not made it clear enough? When Tom got up to get you more decaffeinated tea, Miles threw more insults your way and you decided, yes, he really was that stupid. Nothing you hadn’t already known, you supposed.

Tom placed the tea in front of you and you gave him a nod. His brows drew together for a moment before he smoothed them out, taking his seat once more. He glanced between you and Miles. “Everything okay?”

“Terrific,” you snapped. It didn’t hit you until you said it what you had done. You quickly glanced up at Tom who didn’t look displeased at your attitude (thankfully) but was studying you intently. “Sorry,” you offered more gently. “I’m not having a good morning.”

He nodded, his brows still drawn together. “Well, finish up and we’ll get out of here for a while, stretch our legs, and get some fresh air.” He gave you a patient and understanding smile.

You gave him a wan smile in return, realizing how lucky you were that he was being so understanding and hadn’t gotten angry with you. You were picking up the plastic butter knife to spread jam on your toast when Miles said something nasty to you both, once again muffled by his gag.

At that point, you’d had enough. You dropped the knife and pounded the table with your fist, making the plates shake. “Shut. Up!” You yelled over at him. He scowled at you but did indeed shut up. You realized what you’d done and you worriedly glanced back at Tom. His eyes were flicking back and forth between you and Miles before getting to his feet. Your heart leapt into your throat. Oh no. Now you’d done it.

He made his way over to you, glaring at Miles as he did. When he stopped in front of you, he held out his hand which you warily took. He pulled you to your feet and gripped your chin between his fingers. “I think we should go for that walk now. Okay?” You nodded, not exactly sure what was going to happen but you noticed him shooting a terrifying glare in Miles’ direction. You remembered you needed to keep your strength up so you picked up the piece of toast you had been intent on eating and took it with you as he led you to the door. He saw and chuckled, squeezing your hand, as he opened the screen door for you both to walk through.

<-->

“You feeling a little better?”

You turned to look at him, wondering how to answer that. Yes, you weren’t as edgy, but no, you didn’t exactly feel better. You finally settled on “A little.”

He gave you a hint of a smile and nodded, averting his gaze to the path in front of you.

After a minute, he spoke. “You know, if he’s becoming a problem, I can take care of it.”

You froze, stopping in your tracks, your eyes wide. This was exactly what you didn’t want.

He noticed you had stopped and glanced back at you over his shoulder with furrowed brows.

You didn’t want to anger him but maybe you were too tired, too scared, or too irritated — you couldn’t help but finally speak your mind. “I don’t want you to kill him.”

Instead of angry, he appeared confused as he spun around to fully face you. “Why? He’s obviously upsetting you, which isn’t good for the baby or you, he’s stinking up the place, he refuses to eat anything. Hell, he doesn’t even deserve to live after what he’s done to you. No one’s even going to miss the guy. Not to mention, it would keep you and our daughter safe... What’s the point of keeping him around?”

Tears started to blur your vision as you finally admitted the truth. “I can’t… I can’t kill someone, even him.”

Tom stared into your eyes before licking his lips and looking away. “That’s why I’m offering to do it.”

It terrified you to say this next part but you had to say it. “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” His eyes snapped to yours and your heart began to pound harder in fear. “You can’t kill and I can’t order someone’s death. Even his.” Tears made their way down your face and his gaze softened a little, seeing them.

He reached up and wiped them away with his thumbs before pulling you into him, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Okay,” he murmured to you. “Okay. We’ll figure something else out for him.” He embraced you tightly and you closed your eyes, relieved. “And then it’ll just be us, the three of us, our family.”

You nodded against him, though you secretly knew you still had to figure out a way to escape. Perhaps once you were able to figure out what to do with Miles, then that would leave just the two of you. And then either Tom would be forced to take you into town for supplies which gave you more of an opportunity to escape or get help, or he’d be forced to leave you here. Based on the two walks you had so far, you were starting to get to know the property. Even though there was nothing but woods surrounding you, perhaps you could make your way at least to the property line. From there, you could figure out your next move.

He released you, kissed you, and took your hand again to start heading back.

“And Tom?”

He glanced over at you.

You didn’t want to push your luck but since you had already spoken up about Miles and the killing, you were going to speak up about this, too. Especially since your child was at stake. “Whatever you’re drugging me with at night, you have to stop. It could be hurting the baby.”

He furrowed his brows again. “Sweetheart, I’m not drugging you. I told you, I would never do anything to hurt her. Or you. I would never put either of you at risk like that.”

You wanted to believe him but you also knew what you felt. “Then why do I feel so groggy when I wake up in the morning? And it’s gotten worse each time?”

He studied you, looking as if he wanted to say something, when a sudden realization dawned on his face. A smile crept along his face. “You’re probably tired because I’ve been keeping you up at night. You probably just need a good night’s rest, that’s all. I’ll tell you what, tonight you take a nice, hot shower, we’ll go to bed a little earlier, and we’ll just sleep. How does that sound?”

You didn’t want to appear too eager for him not to engage in any sexual activities with you so you just nodded and hugged his arm, whispering, “That sounds good, thank you.”

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him, leading you both back to the cabin. His smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just couldn’t resist you, but don’t worry, I promise to keep my hands to myself. Your rest is more important, especially for her.” He laid a hand over your bump, patting it gently, and you tried not to cringe under his arm.

<-->

Two weeks had passed and truth be told, you were surprised no one had come looking for you yet, considering you, Tom, and Miles were missing, you were pregnant, and Cindy’s dead body had been left in your house. Your due date was little more than a month away, and you were starting to worry you might have to deliver at the cabin if you weren’t found soon.

Miles was still with you both, alive, as cantankerous as ever. He eventually started to eat the small amounts of food Tom let him have when he realized Tom wasn’t going to kill him and he obviously wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He still threw insults at you every chance he got but for the most part, you ignored him to the best of your ability. If Tom overheard, which was rare, he beat the crap out of Miles until either you begged him to stop or Miles lost consciousness. You and Tom were still trying to figure out what to do with him, but short of taking him somewhere deep in the woods and dropping him off there with the hopes that a bear might get him, you didn’t really have any options. And since you asked Tom not to kill him, a hostage Miles remained.

Tom had kept his word and kept his hands to himself at night. He still spooned you, still kissed you and caressed your bump, but he let you sleep. You still woke up groggy sometimes, as if you hadn’t slept a wink, but it had gotten a little better. Tom blamed those mornings on the old mattress. He swore he’d buy a new one the next time he was in town (which thankfully was coming up soon). You had taken to showering before bed every night, hoping the hot water would relax your body enough that you would drift off into a deep, restful sleep. You had actually gotten used to Tom cuddling you and you no longer feared for your child’s life when he touched your belly. He talked to the baby sometimes, something you heard while you were falling asleep, and his tone was so gentle and loving and reverent, that you couldn’t help but think he really meant it when he said he wanted all of you to be a family. He had even taken to kissing the bump again throughout different parts of the day or if he had to go outside to chop wood. He cooked for you every day without complaint, though you’d offered to pitch in to help (hoping he would trust you completely and you could get access to knives and other cooking tools that could be weaponized at some point if needed). He’d given you a knowing smile and thanked you but told you that he was fine with the arrangement, he didn’t mind. You mentally cursed yourself at being so transparent but you were also thankful he hadn’t gotten angry.

For the most part, though, you’d settled into a sort of routine with Tom every day: breakfast, walk, you were free to move around the cabin as he chopped wood for an hour, he’d take you into the nursery to sit in the rocking chair for a bit to either go over possible baby names or to sit and read to the baby or to play music (he had gotten the same pair of fetal headphones you did), lunch, a nap he insisted you take each day to help you rest better while he fixed things up around the cabin, a free couple of hours to do whatever you wanted, dinner, another walk, shower, and then bed.

You were following this routine one such day when Miles appeared to have finally lost his mind altogether.

It was dinnertime and you had come into the main room with a book in your hand. When setting up the nursery here, Tom had bought the same books you had to prepare for the pregnancy. You were able to pick up where you left off in What To Expect When You’re Expecting. You sat down as Tom came in with a plate of carrots for you to snack on. He smiled when he saw your nose in the book, mindlessly reaching out for a carrot, and dropped a kiss on your head. “What chapter are you on?”

“Still on the eighth month,” you answered without looking at him, taking a bite out of the carrot.

“Mmm,” he hummed against your hair. “Maybe you’ll finish it by the time we eat. I’ve got about ten more minutes left and then we’re good to go.”

“That’s fine. I’ve got carrots to munch on and plenty to read in the meantime.” You held the book up in gesture.

He chuckled and dropped another kiss to your head before walking away. You immediately got back to reading.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tom loosen Miles’ gag and then shove two pieces of white bread in his mouth. “Here, dipshit.” He slammed a small plastic cup of water on the arm of his chair, spilling most of it and not really caring. “Enjoy.”

Tom left the room with a glare over his shoulder in Miles’ direction.

Miles spit out the bread and turned furious eyes on you. You ignored him, choosing to go back to your chapter.

“You stupid, crazy fucking whore.”

Your jaw tightened but you remained silent, picking up another carrot to snack on.

“You hear me? You’re so desperate for dick you’re playing house with that crazy fucker.”

You could feel yourself tense up but you simply turned the page.

“You’re a stupid fucking crazy whore and I always knew you were.”

You rolled your eyes. “Careful, Miles, you’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

That had been a mistake to say. A shark-like grin appeared on Miles’ face — well, as much as it could with his face beat to hell. “You want to hear something different? Alright, how about this? When I get outta here and I will get outta here, I’m going to kill that motherfucker right in front of you. I’m going to bash his skull in while you watch. Then when I’m done with him, I’m going to come for you.” You tried not to show it but you could feel an age-old fear creeping up on you. “Since you’re such a whore, I’m gonna use you like the whore you are, over and over again, until you’re crying and begging me to stop. And just like old times, I won’t.” You could feel the tremors starting up. “I’ll even fuck you right next to his corpse so you can cry all over his brains on the ground. And then when I’m finished with you, good and finished, I’m going to beat the hell out of you but not before I cut that baby out of you and strangle it with its own cord right in front of you. Then if you’re somehow still alive after all that, I’m gonna kill you. And I’m gonna get a medal for it. ‘Hero cop stops modern-day Bonnie and Clyde from continuing their killing spree.’ You just wait. The governor will be shaking my hand and I may even get a call from the goddamn President, thanking me for my service. I put down three rabid dogs, all for the price of one, the one I was tracking down in the first place. I’m gonna be a goddamn hero for this, for ripping you and your evil spawn from this world. How’s that for a new record, you crazy whore?”

A tear slipped down your cheek and he laughed.

“I should’ve fucking gotten rid of you when I had the chance. Now, I’ll have that chance and I’m going to enjoy it.” He laughed again.

You wiped your cheek just in time for Tom to walk in with a bow of mashed potatoes. You noticed that for all of Miles’ bravado a moment earlier, he sure got quiet when Tom walked into the room.

Tom placed the bowl down on the table. “Just give me five more minutes.” He glanced up and immediately knew something was off. “What’s wrong?”

You gave him a thin smile. “Nothing,” you assured him. “Looks like I’m not going to make it to the ninth month chapter after all.” You placed the book down; you had lost your appetite for both knowledge and for food. “I’m actually not feeling well so I think I’m going to go to bed early.”

He tilted his head, confused. “But you were feeling fine a few minutes ago. Was it the carrots? Or something else…?”

You shook your head, ignoring Miles’ chuckling under his breath. “I just need to lay down. I’m sorry, I know you worked hard on dinner. Can you save me some for tomorrow?”

Tom’s eyes darted to Miles, his jaw tightening. “Of course. Get some rest and feel better, sweetheart. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” You turned and left the room, wincing when you heard Miles yelling out in pain presumably from Tom hitting him but you refused to turn back and look.

<-->

When you got out of the shower and dressed in the sleeveless maternity nightgown Tom had thought to buy for you, you wiped the condensation off the mirror with a hand and stared into it. You couldn’t believe the things Miles had said to you but then again it was Miles, so you could. A part of you wondered if Tom was right; would it be safer for you and your baby if Miles was gone for good? You shook the thought from your head, not even wanting to entertain it. No matter how horrific Miles was, no matter how dangerous, you weren’t a killer. Even if he was killed by some other means, you didn’t want to be the one responsible. You were better than that, a better person. You wouldn’t become like Miles and let him win.

You heard a soft knock on the door. “Y/N?”

You nervously licked your lips and went to open the door. You hoped Tom wasn’t upset with you for missing dinner. But when you opened it, all you saw was concern and worry staring back at you.

He ducked his head, meeting your eyes. “Are you feeling any better?”

You tried to smile but it probably came out as a grimace. “Yeah.”

Tom studied you for a moment and then held out his hand which looked remarkably clean considering what he had done to Miles recently. “I want to show you something.”

Thinking it might have to do with Miles, you started to shake your head. “No, I don’t—”

“It’s for the baby,” he soothed. “I have it right here on the bed.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief and took his hand. He kissed your forehead and led you over to the bed where a box sat on top. He urged you to get closer and take a look at it, releasing you.

You gazed down at the box, picking it up and looking it over. “A home fetal heart monitor?”

“Yeah.” He sat down on the bed, taking the box from you and opening it. “I know you haven’t been able to go for your usual checkup due to our…situation at the moment.” He pulled everything out and laid it on the bed. “I bought this long before we came here, in case we needed it. You said the baby is pretty active every day so I didn’t think it was needed. But, you know what, maybe it’s not a bad idea to check in on her. What do you say?”

You were honestly floored at the gesture and you wondered if he had gotten Miles to confess what he’d said or if he overheard again. Either way, you were touched. “Um…” You bit your lip, trying to keep from crying. Damn these pregnancy hormones sometimes. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

“Yeah,” you laughed, a tear slipping out as you reached for the wand.

He read the instructions and you both figured out how to use it. He urged you to sit back against him as he lifted the hem of your nightgown over your belly. He applied the gel and you used the wand, moving it around until your baby’s heartbeat started to sound from the speaker. You couldn’t help but smile.

“There she is,” Tom whispered into your ear in awe. “There’s our little girl.”

You felt your eyes welling up again, joy and relief flooding through you as you listened to your baby’s steady heartbeat. You turned your head to look at Tom, seeing the same emotions reflecting back at you. “Thank you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Somehow he knew just what you needed. The louder and steadier your baby’s heartbeat was, the more it drowned out Miles’ words.

You felt completely at peace and able to drift off to sleep soon after, with Tom wrapped around you. Your baby was okay and she was going to be safe.

Perhaps Miles was right. Maybe you were kind of playing house with a “crazy fucker” as he claimed. But you’d take that crazy fucker over Miles anyday. That crazy fucker cared more about your child than he, the biological father, did. Tom cared about her, wanted her, and would do whatever it took to keep you both safe while Miles had threatened to hurt her, hurt you both. So yeah, you’d take the “crazy fucker” any day of the week.

<-->

A scream startled you awake. You sat up as best as you could, glancing around the dimly lit bedroom. You could see the first shafts of morning light peeking through the windows. You were alone in the bed. “Tom?” You called, scared when you didn’t see him. You didn’t know what you’d heard but you were frozen in terror.

Another pained scream erupted out of nowhere and it sounded like it was coming from outside. Miles’ words came back to you and you hurriedly got to your feet, realized you were nude (Tom must have taken your nightgown off to be skin on skin again; he liked that), and dressed. Your hair was still damp from your shower last night but you had no time to throw it up in a bun or ponytail. You felt sore and you noticed a few cuts on your fingers. The sight terrified you especially given how sore your body was and how you had woken up nude but Tom was nowhere to be found. Especially when you remembered Miles’ threats. “Tom?” You cried but you still got no answer.

You made your way to the main room and gasped when you saw blood in the corner where Miles had been, partially covered by a sheet. You noticed there was blood spatter all over the walls, in almost every nook and cranny. Some of it had even landed on the table, the opposing wall, and the area of floor you were about to step on. “No. No!” You weren’t sure if you were more scared of Tom at this moment, or for him. You belatedly realized he must have overheard Miles threatening you and the baby last night and that was definitely why he brought out the fetal monitor to assure you. You’d had such a sweet moment with it; how did you go from that to this within a matter of hours?

You ran out the door, the screen door slamming back against the house. You didn’t see anything or anyone in the distance. You heard the screaming again and it seemed like it was coming from the surrounding woods to your right.

“Tom!” You screamed.

You ran back inside, looking for anything you could use as a weapon, maneuvering as best you could with your stomach but not finding anything, and hurried back out to the porch. You had to stop Tom. Miles had been horrific to you and didn’t deserve your intervention but you couldn’t let this happen to him. He was a human being, a horrible disgusting human being, but a human being nonetheless. You were about to hurry down the stairs when a bloody Tom appeared in front of you, a pickaxe in his hand.

You froze, unsure if you should run back inside or if that would even make a difference. You held a hand over your mouth and your eyes filled with tears when you noticed something hanging from one side of the pickaxe’s blade that looked suspiciously organ-like.

He came to a stop in front of you, near the bottom of the stairs, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Is it the baby?” He asked worriedly, panting.

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from yelling in terror. You couldn’t keep the tears from spilling down your face, though.

He saw and his brows drew together until realization dawned upon his face. He dropped the pickaxe to the ground and spoke gently. “I’m okay, sweetheart. This isn’t my blood.”

Tom actually thought you were worried about him, that somehow Miles had gotten a hold of him like he’d threatened and was doing horrific, unspeakable things to him. A voice deep down told you to play along. “Will you please come inside then and let me clean you up?” You fought hard to keep the wobble out of your voice.

His eyes softened and he climbed the stairs to stand before you. The sight of so much blood made you want to vomit. You weren’t squeamish by any means but the amount of blood covering Tom from head to toe… If Miles wasn’t dead already, he soon would be.

Tom went to reach out a hand to your cheek but then saw the blood and thought better of it, dropping it to his side.

“Y-You promised,” you forced out.

“I did.”

“Why then? W-Why did you break it? We were…we were doing so well,” you sobbed out.

His jaw tightened but his eyes saddened. “We still are. Let me go finish…that. I’ll come back, clean up, and then we’ll talk.” He said it as if he was simply going to finish chopping firewood and then come back for lunch.

“Tom,” you gasped, trying to breathe through the sobs tearing out of you. “If you continue ro torture him, I can’t be with you.”

His brows furrowed again and you waited for the terrifying expression you’d seen all too often to make a reappearance. Instead, he looked more confused than ever. “I’m not torturing him, Y/N.”

“Yes, you are. I heard him screaming.”

His lips parted in shock and he went to reach out for you again. This time, you flinched and moved backwards on reflex. He dropped his hand and curled it into a fist. You were scared that you angered him but God, how could you live with yourself if you let him go continue killing Miles slowly and brutally?

“Sweetheart,” he spoke gently. “No one was screaming. Except you.”

“I know what I heard, Tom!” Was he seriously trying to gaslight you right now into believing you had been hearing things? The bloody pickaxe was still on the ground, with whatever attached it, for crying out loud. “It woke me up!”

His eyes softened then. “Miles was dead before I dragged him out here. You saw…inside…no one could have survived that.”

You felt like your heart stopped. The way he talked about murdering another human being so casually made your blood run cold.

He took another step closer and you took another step backwards. He held out a placating hand but all you could see was the blood caked on his skin. “Y/N, look at me.” You lifted your gaze to his and only then did you notice how badly you were shaking. “I need you to take some deep breaths and relax.”

“Relax?” You laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“You need to stay calm for the baby.”

You huffed out a snort in disbelief but after a moment, you realized he was right. The last thing you needed right now was for labor to start early or for there to be any complications when you were this remote. You forced yourself to take deep breaths.

“Good.” He gave you a tiny smile. “Now, I need you to listen to me.”

You focused on your breathing, not wanting to listen to him but you had no choice.

“I need you to go inside and pack your things. There’s a bag under the bed you can put your clothes and the baby’s clothes in. When I’m done, I’ll come in, clean myself up, and get the rest of what we’ll need.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re taking me somewhere else? Are you serious?” You felt like your mind was unraveling. “What about— What about the nursery?” You could care less about the nursery right now but it was what your mind grasped onto, trying to make sense of everything that was happening.

“We’ll take most of it with us. Don’t worry. I can recreate it in the new place. Quickly, too, before she comes.”

“Another remote cabin?” You snapped.

He shook his head. “A home. For us, for our family. There’s a swingset in the backyard and everything.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Just how long have you been planning this? First this cabin? Now a house? How long, Tom?” You demanded.

He seemed unsure how to answer but he said, “As long as I’ve had to. Now, please, go inside and pack. If you hear anything, just know I’m okay and he’s already dead. Alright?”

You kept focusing on your breathing, not answering him.

“I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re on the road.”

The road? Depending on which road he planned to take, there may be other cars on that road, places he needed to pull over for gas — people. You could possibly flag someone down for help or even make an escape attempt that might be successful. The road was good. It meant opportunity.

You took another deep breath and nodded, opening the screen door and walking inside, refusing to look back at Tom or the massacre-decorated corner of the main room.

<-->

You had packed everything Tom had told you to: your clothes, the baby clothes, your book, any necessities. After a while, Tom had come back, spent a few hours attempting to clean the blood from the main room which he urged you to keep the bedroom door shut for with the bedroom window open in case, jumped in the shower, and then urged you out the door. He packed everything else up into his truck. He’d even disassembled the crib and tied the rocking chair down securely in the truck bed. The changing table was being left behind as well as the cubbies he’d stored the books and toys in but everything else came with. He also managed to quickly pack a cooler of food and drinks, and took whatever he could from the cupboards. It was an odd sensation, standing by the truck as he did all of this, not offering to help. A part of you wanted to but the other part was still angry with him for killing Miles and breaking his promise to you. Another third smaller part was scared to death that you were about to share the same fate, or at least you would once the baby was born. Tom wanted your baby; that was crystal clear to you now as you noticed the larger percentage of what was packed had more to do with the baby than anything else. While he had told you he wanted you all to be a family, perhaps he was just waiting for you to give birth and then that would be it. For you.

You focused on maintaining your breathing and told yourself you would get away long before that could happen.

Once everything was packed up and the cabin was closed up, Tom opened the passenger door for you and helped you up into the seat. You wouldn’t have accepted his help if you thought you could get up there yourself but a very big belly tended to offset everything. He got into the driver seat, slipped a baseball cap on, and pulled away from what had been your temporary home for a few weeks.

It was about fifteen miles on the highway or so, with nary a car in sight, that you finally turned to Tom (who you had been ignoring this entire ride so far) and asked the question that had been sitting in the back of your brain. “You heard him last night, didn’t you?”

Tom turned a confused expression onto you.

“When he threatened me.”

His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched, turning back to the road ahead. “No. I didn’t. I knew he had probably said something to upset you but I didn’t know he did that. Had I, I would’ve…” He shook his head, angry, clenching a fist. “Makes sense, though.”

“What makes sense?”

He nervously licked his lips and reached over to pick up your hand. You went to yank it back but he tightened his grip and placed a kiss to your skin. “I promised I would tell you everything and I will.”

“Now seems like a good a time as any,” you seethed, still trying to pull your hand back but he wouldn’t let you.

“Let’s get some driving out of the way first. We’ve got a ways to go and I’d rather we put as much distance as we can between us and that cabin.”

“Yeah, I bet,” you muttered.

He seemed displeased with your reaction but he let your hand go and continued focusing on the road. And for the first time since this whole thing started, you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. That worried you a bit because you should be trying to keep him happy, calm, trusting, and instead you were doing the exact opposite. But the anger and betrayal you felt seemed to be overriding everything at the moment.

<-->

“Hey. Y/N.”

You were being gently shaken awake and you opened your eyes, glancing all around you. You were still in the front seat of the truck and the sun was starting to go down. You turned to see Tom rubbing your shoulder.

“You need to use the bathroom, sweetheart?” He murmured.

Almost as if on cue, your bladder started to hurt. You nodded, rubbing your eyes.

“Okay.”

He jumped out of the truck and made his way over to your side. He opened your door and lifted you to the ground, grunting in the effort. Had he been someone else, you would’ve felt bad for the strain he was putting on his body in doing so.

You were at a rest stop where other cars surrounded you. You saw families milling about, couples, friends traveling together — people.

He grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly. “Stay close to me.” Of course he wanted you to stay close to him. He didn’t want you running off for help after all.

You let him lead you into the building as you tried to formulate a plan to escape him. He held you closer as he pushed his way through people waiting in line for the various food vendors available and brought you to the women’s bathroom. Thankfully, there was no line. You were just waiting to get in there and lock the door behind you. But as luck would have it, he opened the door himself and ducked his head in. When he determined it was clear, he urged you in ahead of him and locked you both inside.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You glared at him and went to find a stall, realizing he’d already anticipated your plan. When you found one, you relieved the pangs of your bladder and tried to think of a new plan. You heard him checking the other stalls around you as a precaution.

Technically, there were a lot of people around. If you screamed in the middle of the crowd, he couldn’t do anything about it. You smiled to yourself. Yeah, you liked that plan.

You finished doing what you needed to do and exited the stall to wash your hands. While you were drying them, arms came around you, a hand tenderly placed against your belly, and you heard Tom whisper in your ear, “I love you. I love both of you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what he said. If I had, maybe I could’ve done something to keep this morning from happening.”

You refused to look at him, in the mirror or next to you. Too little, too late. “You broke your promise to me, Tom.”

“I didn’t break my promise to you, sweetheart.”

“Really?” You spun around, glaring up at him. “And what do you call this morning? Look, Miles was a despicable human being who did the most horrific things to me a long time ago and threatened to do even more horrific things if he got loose, but he was still a human being. You know what? It’s not even about him. I didn’t even ask you not to kill him for him, I asked you not to kill him for me. Not because I cared in the slightest what happened to him, but because I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can! I have a baby to think about, Tom! What if she cries too loudly or she doesn’t put her toys away when we tell her to? What then?”

With each word you said, he looked more and more pained. “I’m going to be a good father to her, Y/N. I’m really doing the best I can to keep…certain impulses in control. It’s not easy. Even when there are certain risky things going on that are tempting those impulses.”

“What?” What was he talking about?

“I didn’t want to have this conversation until we got to the house but if you need to hear it now so you know how much I love you and the baby, then so be it. Y/N, I—”

A loud pounding sounded on the door. “The door’s locked!” Some woman yelled.

“Shit,” he muttered before turning to look down at you pleadingly. “Look, I get that you can walk out that door, scream for help, I would have to run, and then you’d never see me again. But Christ, Y/N, I’m asking you to please give me a chance to explain. Just one. If you don’t want to be with me after that or allow me to be her dad,” He swallowed compulsively at that part. “Then you two can stay in the new house and I’ll move on. I promise.”

“Hey, some of us have to go to the bathroom, too! Open up!”

You gritted your teeth and glanced up at him skeptically. “Another promise?”

“I haven’t broken the last one I made to you yet.”

You shot him a look.

“Open up or we’re going to report you!”

“Report me to who?” You snapped at the door. “The bathroom police? Please.” You turned back to Tom who was smirking down at you. “What?”

He only smirked wider and offered you his hand. You realized you must definitely be nuts because after a moment, you took it. He leaned down to kiss your nose, whispering, “Thank you.”

A second later, he gripped your hand tightly. “No matter what, we keep our heads down and just get back to the truck. Deal?”

You gave him a hesitant nod and moved closer to his back, so he could break through the crowds for you both.

He unlocked the door and opened it, rushing past a couple of women standing sentry at the door. The loud one yelled at you as you passed, “Really? That’s what we were waiting on? Disgusting! I should report you both!”

You had the strongest urge to yell something back but Tom squeezed your hand and hurried out of there, ignoring any onlookers.

You were just about to step into the parking lot when you heard a feminine giggle to your right. You glanced over and saw a young woman flirting with a young guy. She was touching his jaw with the tip of her finger, and he was smirking down at her.

She giggled again and the images in front of you began to swim. Suddenly, another image overtook it.

You were back in your house, at the top of the stairs, watching as your friend Cindy was all smiles at Tom. He was coming down off of the ladder from installing the light at the top of the foyer. He gave her a polite smile and when she asked where you were, he said you were upstairs resting, the baby had been really active that morning.

Cindy watched as he wiped his hands on a rag and she sidled up to him. “Tom, what are you doing? Playing house with the new weird pregnant girl who won’t tell anyone where she’s from, and stepping in as Daddy? It doesn’t suit you. You’re young and strong and full of life. Don’t let her suck it out of you.” Your grip on the railing tightened.

Tom had politely pushed her away. “I love her, Cindy. I love them both. They’re my life. Now, if you can’t accept that or even speak nicely about her in her own home, then I think it’s time for you to leave.” He gestured towards the door.

Cindy tried once more. “But, Tom, we had some fun times together, didn’t we? Wouldn’t you prefer that to whatever this is?” She gestured around the foyer in disgust.

“Yes, we did. And no, I don’t. Like I told you at the Christmas party, I’m not interested. So, please leave.”

“Ugh, fine. Call me when you get bored of the fake family routine.” She was walking towards the door finally. You could see Tom’s jaw tighten as he watched her go, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

You quietly hurried down to the last few steps, plastering a big smile on your face. “Cindy, is that you?”

Tom’s gaze snapped over to you and Cindy spun on her heel with the biggest fake smile. “Y/N! I was just asking after you. Tom told me you were getting some rest so I figured I’d drop by later to see how you were doing.”

You made your way down the stairs, Tom holding out a hand to help you. You gave him a smile of thanks and laid a hand on your belly, rubbing. “Yeah, she was being a little overactive this morning and tired Mommy out.” You then placed your hands on your belly as if you were blocking the baby’s ears. “Usually happens after a great night of sex,” you said in a more conspiratorial tone.

Tom grinned down at you. “Damn right it does.” He pulled you to him, kissing you.

You chuckled against his lips, playfully pushing away from him, your cheeks warm. “Tom, we have company.” You inclined your head in Cindy’s direction who still had the fake smile going.

Tom shrugged. “She was just leaving.” He leaned in to kiss you again when you laughed and turned to let him kiss your cheek instead.

“Oh my word, you two are just too cute together. Like a Christmas card without all of the…Christmas,” Cindy let out in a laugh.

Tom moved and slipped his arms around you from behind, pressing kisses to your cheek as he rubbed at your belly.

“So, Cindy, what did you drop by for?” You asked, playfully slapping at Tom’s hand that was subtly moving above your belly. He snickered into your ear before nibbling on it.

“You know what, you seem a little busy right now, hun. I’ll drop by later so we can talk.”

You gave her a bright smile. “That’d be great. I’ll put coffee on for you and tea for me, and we’ll chat then.”

“Absolutely! See you then!” She wiggled her fingers in a goodbye and then was out the door.

Your smile dropped as soon as the door closed. Tom saw and placed his lips at your ear. “I take it you heard all of that before you came down?”

You turned a stone cold expression on him.

He sighed and laid his forehead against yours. “I love you and want to be with you. Only you. You know that.”

“But you’ve been with her?”

“It was only a couple of times, purely casual. It was done before you even came to town.”

You gripped his chin tightly. “Are you sure you want to give up fun times together and play Daddy?”

His brows drew together, studying you. “Yes. Sweetheart, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t be here.”

Your expression softened and you released him. “You mean that?” You whispered.

He gave you a soft smile and kissed you. “We could be up in the mountains somewhere, just the three of us, and I’d be happy. So, yes, sweetheart, I mean it. We’re a family and nothing is going to threaten that. I promise.”

You hugged his arms around you and leaned back against him, relaxing and smiling. You really had no idea what you had done to deserve Tom coming into your life when he did.

Which is why you were so desperate to keep him with you, to keep your family together. When Cindy walked into your kitchen a few hours later, you were determined to lay down the law. To let her know that you overheard her earlier and while you appreciated her helping you find this house (and Tom by extension), she was no longer welcome in it. Instead, though, she ended up dead. She made a comment to you about Tom that was heavy with implication and before you knew it, you attacked her. Multiple stab wounds to the body after a smashed coffee pot over her head that caused third-degree burns. She just wouldn’t stop screaming.

Tom arrived back from a trip to the store and found you in the kitchen, still stabbing her long after she finally stopped screaming, his eyes wide. He wrestled you for the knife and tossed it before gripping your face and staring into your eyes. “Y/N, it’s me! Look at me! Y/N!”

You both heard your backdoor opening, and in walked your estranged husband who you had been running from. Miles’ eyes were wide as he took in the bloody scene in front of him and he whistled, chuckling. “Always knew you were a crazy whore.” Tom immediately recognized him from the picture you’d shown him and he let you go, fury filling his expression.

Tom attacked him and they fought. Miles had somehow managed to best Tom at one point and he was about to go to town on him when you hit him with a frying pan. It gave Tom the opportunity he needed to get out from under him and before Miles could even try to attack you once he recovered, you held a knife to his throat as Tom grabbed another one, that same fury in his eyes.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you told Miles. “One move and you die.”

“You stupid bitch, I’ll fucking kill you,” he spit. You pressed the blade into his neck a little more.

Tom rushed him, ready to kill him when you held a hand up, stopping him. “No. He lives.” Tom glared up at you, unsure of why you were stopping him. “We take him with us, make him watch and hear everything, and we have some fun.” You gave Tom a wicked smile and he returned it, turning it down onto Miles who was bleeding from where you’d cut him. “Do you know a place?” You asked Tom.

“Yeah.” He glanced once again at Miles, his smile widening. “I know a place.”

You were suddenly at the cabin, waking up in the middle of the night. Not caring if you were dressed or not, you slipped out of Tom’s arms and padded into the main room. You stood there, watching as Miles slept, or if he was awake like he was the night you and Tom had sex, you stood there with a knife, fucking with his head. Would you kill him? Would you not? You made sure to let him know the child you carried was biologically his but he would never see it born. Tom was its father now and he was much more of a man than Miles, as he must have heard earlier. There was even one night where Tom woke up and found you in the kitchen in the dark, holding a knife over your belly, as if you were going to stab yourself. He knocked the knife out of your hand and asked what you were doing. You said it was Miles’ child and you wanted Miles out of you. Tom held your face in his hands and assured you that the child was his and his alone.

“No, it’s not,” you murmured.

“Yes, it is. Listen to me, that’s my little girl inside of you. She’s both of ours. He has nothing to do with it. Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, but you love this baby and you love me. You want our family to stay together. You told me that! Please! Don’t let her hurt our baby!”

“It’s our baby?” You asked in a tiny voice.

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s ours. Just ours.”

You allowed him to carry you to bed and hold you there, shushing you soothingly and rubbing your belly, using your hands with his.

And then came the night Miles threatened you. This time, you stood over him with the knife.

“You dumb whore, you don’t have it in you to kill me. You won’t even let your crazy boy toy do it.”

“Yeah, because I want to be the one to do it.” A big smile spread across your face and you slashed at his cheek, making him curse.

“Go ahead then! Even if you kill me, you’ll never be rid of me. I’ll always be a part of you, inside you, in that kid. Know that, you stupid bitch. I should’ve fucking killed you when I had the chance!”

You started slicing and then forcefully stabbing and never really stopped. You took pieces off of him (including what could be construed as what he thought was his manhood) and he screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Tom woke up when the screaming started but you didn’t stop. He tried to get you to, telling you he would take care of the rest for you, that he didn’t want you to hurt yourself or the baby, but you told him no, you wanted to do this yourself. You’d earned it. Instead, he stood there, waiting, in case you needed him. He nervously watched as you took Miles apart, his eyes repeatedly flickering to your stomach. At one point, though, you could have sworn you noticed a faint smirk on Tom’s face when Miles screamed particularly loudly and his eyes were hard but proud. Only when you were done, though Miles had been dead for a while by this point, did you turn to go back to the room. Tom stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” You shook your head. “Our baby?” Another shake. He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Why don’t you go take a shower and then get into bed? I’ll clean this up.”

“Thanks, baby,” you’d whispered, gripping his face and lifting up on your toes to kiss him. You left Miles’ blood all over his cheeks but he still looked at you with that same reverence he always had. Once you were out of the shower, he was there to run clean hands over your belly, checking for any injuries but not finding any. You’d smiled and kissed him, not caring about the dried blood on his face when you’d crawled onto his lap and urged him to take off his shirt.

You saw more flashing Images of you in his lap, arching your head up in pleasure, him kissing down the column of your neck, some of the blood from his face transferring onto your skin.

The screams and moans echoed in your ear as you came back to yourself. You felt as if you were losing your balance and you started to fall until Tom caught you in time.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not looking at him, tears streaming down your face.

“Hey, she alright, man?”

“You need me to call for an ambulance?”

“No,” Tom assured the onlookers. “Thank you but she’s fine. She has low blood sugar and this happens when she forgets to eat. Let me get her back to the car so I can give her a juice box. Thank you but she’s okay.”

He lifted you in his arms, grunting, and slowly began the trek to the truck. “I thought we had a deal, sweetheart. But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m not gonna leave you or our little girl behind at a rest stop. Not happening.”

‘Tom, I… I killed them,” you sobbed, staring up at the sky.

He stopped short for a second but then kept moving. “Shhh. Just hang on, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”

“I-I-I killed them.” You started to break apart. “I even threatened my baby.”

Tom picked up speed slightly and did his best to get you both back to the truck. Once there and he had you in the passenger seat, you were already hyperventilating. He gripped your face and forced you to meet his eyes. “Sweetheart, we need to get your breathing under control. Let’s slow it down together, okay?” He took your hand and placed it on his chest and he placed a hand on your chest. “Follow me.”

He eventually got you to calm down a little, taking nice deep and even breaths, but it wasn’t enough to make you forget what you had seen, what you had done. You thought back to what you had said to Tom. “I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can!” “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” You’d blamed him for Cindy’s and Miles’ deaths!

“What do you say we go someplace and have that talk now?”

You nodded, more tears falling down your face at the action. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed you before settling you into your seat. Within two minutes, you were back on the road again, his hand in yours, and you stared blankly out the window. You were a killer and Tom, even your own baby — they weren’t safe.

<-->

“I’m so sorry, Tom.”

He turned an inquisitive gaze on you.

“I blamed you when it was me.” You wiped a tear away. “I’m sorry.”

You both were sitting at a picnic table in a nice parking area off the shoulder of the highway that he had managed to find. Thankfully, no one was really around. The stars beginning to come out might have something to do with that.

He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, kissing your skin. “I knew why you were saying it. You didn’t remember what you’d done. Truthfully, I didn’t want you to remember it.”

“It’s no excuse,” you choked out. “And my baby…” Your eyes welled up again. “Even she’s not safe with me.”

He cupped your chin with his free hand and turned you to look at him. “Yes, she is. Your ex was the trigger. Now that he’s gone, that lessens the trigger.”

“But what if she looks like him? Or sounds like him? Or what if she does something like Cindy did and says something to trigger me? Or what if like I told you, she cries too loudly or doesn’t put her toys away? She’s not safe.” Your eyes hurt from how much crying you’d been doing, you were surprised there were any tears left, but there were. You cried over Cindy. Sure, you didn’t care for her after overhearing her that day and finding out she’d been with Tom, only teasing you about his supposed crush on you because she never thought he’d give you the time of day and it allowed her to tease and flirt with him as well. But she didn’t deserve to die over it and certainly not like that. You didn’t cry too much over Miles but what you’d done. No human life deserved to be taken the way you had taken his. But you cried the most over what you’d almost done to your baby, what it meant, and how you’d have to let her go once she was born — if she was born.

“Listen to me, I’m going to keep you both safe, okay? Just like I promised.”

“And you,” you sobbed. “Why would you want to be with a murderer? A cold-blooded killer like me? What if I’d killed you? Or what if I do kill you? Tom, what I’ve done is bad enough but if I did something to you, I don’t think I’d ever come back from that. Or if I did something to my baby.”

He pulled you into his arms and you cried against his shirt. He moved in and gently nuzzled you despite the wetness and sniffling. “Because I know what it’s like.”

“What are you talking about, you know what’s like? Fearing going to sleep that you may not wake up from because your significant other might kill you? I know all too well what that’s like and I don’t want that for you.”

His jaw tightened but he shook his head, bumping his nose gently into yours. “No. I mean, I know what it’s like to have a trigger and not remember what I’ve done half the time, while leaving bodies trailing behind me.”

You hiccuped and pulled back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He placed his forehead against yours. “Remember I never wanted to talk about my past?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you said it was too painful and I didn’t want to push.”

Tom let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. But I’m going to tell you everything, even when you don’t want to hear certain parts. I don’t remember a lot but I’ll tell you what I can. And I’m only going to gloss over my trigger, not go into full detail. I’m sure it would be fine, but I don’t want to even risk it. Okay?”

You took in a ragged inhale and buried your fingers into his shirt. “Okay.”

He smiled at you reassuringly and tenderly brushed hair out of your face. “Okay.”

<-->

Tom kept an eye on you while you slept, hugging onto his arm. Today was a big day for you in various ways and he wasn’t quite sure if you’d be triggered again.

He’d been completely honest with you, opening up to you about Harry and how trauma led to this other identity he had no control of. Truthfully, he’d been scared to even mention the name, afraid it would draw the other side of him out. During this whole time with you, from him finding you stabbing Cindy to death in your kitchen to now, he’d felt as if Harry was fighting to come to the surface and join in the fray. Of course, that was something the therapists he’d seen had told him wasn’t possible, but even burying Miles’ mutilated corpse and using the pickaxe again felt as if he were approaching a very dangerous line.

At some point after Harmony, he wasn’t quite sure how long, but he was in control again and Harry was nowhere to be found. He had a healing bullet wound as well as other scrapes on his head and face. He knew he could never go back to Harmony or even be Tom Hanniger again (especially after one internet search on a library computer), so he was forced to become someone else: a different Tom. He probably should have changed his first name, too, but he already had another identity waiting in the wings to take over again, he didn’t want another one he needed to worry about becoming, too. Even if it was only for paperwork reasons.

He moved to a new small town, far away from his old life, and began again. He stayed mostly to himself, kept under the radar as much as he could. He was able to find work, doing small odd jobs at first, and then finding work in basically being a handyman of sorts. He had gotten to know the townspeople that way as well as the town itself. He’d even sought help from a local therapist in the next town over whose resume boasted they specialized in DID. There, the therapist was able to help him understand the disorder better than any doctors in the institution had. He learned about triggers, working to reduce switches (as they called it), and how to overall take control of his life in more ways than one. He had been doing much better and there were no instances where he felt like he was missing time or there was something on the edge of his memories that he couldn’t quite remember.

And then he’d met you, completely by accident. He’d bumped into you in the hardware store, literally. You’d dropped what had been in your hands and seeing the slim curve of your stomach, he’d immediately crouched down to pick them up for you. He locked eyes with you and he could swear you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. He cleared his throat when he realized he’d been staring at you a little too long. He immediately apologized for bumping into you and you apologized, too. He noted what you had in your hand: spackle.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you’re not planning on doing any painting, are you?”

You glanced at the container in your hands. “Oh, this? Oh no. I can’t.” You gestured to your stomach. “But I read on a forum online that spackling is okay.”

He arched a brow at you. “Forum online?”

Your cheeks turned adorably pink. “Yeah,” you defended. “As long as it doesn’t have high VOC’s I think it said, I should be fine. Plus, I plan to wear a mask and open all the windows, air it out properly.”

“Uh huh,” he chuckled. At your frown, he held up a placating hand. “Sorry, I just…can’t your husband or boyfriend do that for you? So you don’t have to?”

Your cheeks turned red now. “Are you saying that I can’t do what they can?” You challenged.

“Nope. I’m implying that there are certain things you shouldn’t be doing while pregnant. That’s all.” You went to say something else but he cut you off. “I’m the local handyman, a fixer upper basically. If your other half is too busy, I can swing by and help you out.”

“Oh.”

He handed you his card, noting no ring sitting on your finger. That answered that particular question. “My cell phone number’s on there so call me anytime, day or night, and I’ll come by. Are you new in town?”

You studied his card. “Is it that obvious?”

He chuckled and held out a hand. “I’m Tom.”

You took it, smiling, and shook it. “Y/N.” Not only did he suddenly love that name but he loved the feel of your soft skin against his. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You ended up calling him two days later to ask him about the spackling and his rates. Ever since your conversation with him in the store, you couldn’t get what he said out of your head and now you were worried the online forum was wrong. What he didn’t tell you is that he couldn’t get your conversation with him out of his head, but for a whole other reason.

After an agreed rate over the phone (he’d given you a break, calling it the newcomer discount so you wouldn’t question it or feel badly), he stopped by your house and you showed him where you needed the spackling done. There was a large crack in one of the walls of the living room high up. He couldn’t imagine you on a ladder with a mask trying to get this crack spackled — more like he didn’t want to imagine it. Cindy had been there, shooting him flirtatious smiles every time you turned your back, which he ignored. Cindy had been fun a time or two but he wasn’t interested in anything more than that, something he’d already told her long before he met you. Besides, he’d trade twenty of those flirtatious smiles for one of your warm genuine ones anyday. He’d thought you very pretty in the store but now he knew he’d been wrong; you were beautiful. And living all alone in this big, old house. It seemed like a crime to him though he was a little happy that you were single.

He got vibes early on that there was something in your past that you were running from. You were jumpy, slow to trust, and he could tell it took a little bit for you to feel comfortable with him alone in the house. He didn’t push and he appreciated your not pushing either when it came to his own past. But he liked being around you and he definitely liked you. It took some time but you eventually got to know one another and he was helping you slowly restore your home (mostly for free at this point, what he referred to as the friend rate which made you smile and shake your head, still insisting on paying him which he would refuse). You never talked about who the father of your baby was or where he might be, but it was obvious you were going about things on your own. He admired you for that and he loved watching you walk around, lovingly rubbing your bump that was getting bigger each week.

And then, on New Year’s Eve, after circling each other for months, you kissed him. From then on, he was yours. Even when you opened up to him about your past, all he wanted to do was protect you and the baby, be good to you, and be there for you both. He loved you well before he said it, which was after you had said it first because he hadn’t wanted you to feel any pressure whatsoever. Soon enough, you both had started talking about the future — particularly, the very near future. Tom wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a parent or if he’d even be a good one but he knew one thing: he loved you and your little girl very much. He’d do anything for you two and that was good enough for him.

Then came the day Cindy made the fatal mistake of setting you off. He still wasn’t sure if it was what Cindy said in the foyer or if she said something else to you when she came by later, but something caused you to snap. Tom had returned from the hardware store and had been shocked to find you covered in blood, violently stabbing the woman who appeared to already be dead. You weren’t a violent person by nature. You two hardly ever argued and if you did, it was resolved within minutes. He’d never seen you argue with anyone else. Even when you got moody occasionally, sure, he knew to tiptoe around you, but you didn’t even get mean. So he had no idea where the hell this had come from. But before he could get through to you to find out if you and the baby were okay, your piece of shit ex showed up. That had been the first night Tom had felt Harry swimming dangerously close to the surface, waiting to take over. No matter what any therapist said; he knew Harry was there, he could feel him, doing his best to take over though Tom fought it. If Harry took over, he would kill every living being in the room, and that Tom would not allow to happen. Especially not when you and the baby were in the same room.

Tom let you make the call on your ex (even though he didn’t completely understand it) and got you out of there. Later that night, when you passed out, he’d checked you for injuries as well as the baby. He didn’t find any except some shallow cuts to your arms. He gently cleaned them and he was determined to keep a close eye on you. When you finally came to the next day, he’d had no choice but to tie you up much like your ex to wait and see what you would do. He noticed you were you again though you were looking fearfully at him. He hated to see it but he also knew it could only mean one thing: you hadn’t remembered what you did. He didn’t need to be a therapist to realize that you might possibly have the same situation going on that he did. When you accused him of killing Cindy, it confirmed it, though he wondered how you knew she was dead. He chalked it up to you starting to switch back and seeing the carnage before he’d been able to get you out of that house.

So while Tom wasn’t a fan of it, he dangerously walked the line between himself and who he knew Harry to be. Your ex got the worst of Harry’s qualities: the violence, the ruthlessness, and the fury. You got the lower end of a few displeased glares and the raised volume of his voice once or twice. He didn’t know what he was dealing with just yet, though he suspected, and he hoped if he kept you you, even if you were fearful of him, he’d be able to figure out how to help you.

He didn’t agree with keeping Miles alive, especially since Miles was a threat to you and your baby and he had also seen what you’d done to Cindy. It was better to take care of him before he became an even bigger problem. While Tom didn’t relish taking a life, and he didn’t want to wake up Harry, it was clear that Miles needed to go. It was obvious that he was a trigger for you.

While he had been confused at your claims of grogginess, it soon became clear why you were really tired. You’d worried Tom the nights he’d woken up in bed, alone, and found you either hovering over Miles, taunting him, or watching him sleep. You’d even insisted he sit Miles up from where he’d left him in the corner the first night so the asshole could watch and listen. Watch and listen to what Tom hadn’t been sure of but when you told him to make love to you the next night, to be loud while loving you, he got a pretty good idea on what the listen part was. The following morning, he realized you wanted Miles to watch what was happening before his very eyes: you were being well taken care of, you were creating a family, and you were loved. EVen though you didn’t remember it most days, he tried to do right by you — both of you. The other side of you hadn’t told him her name yet, but he was waiting for it. The switches were only too obvious now.

You’d scared the hell out of him, though, the night he found you holding a knife over your stomach. He had already been assuring you that he loved your baby and you, that you would be a family, that your little girl was his. After that, he stepped it up while also hiding all of the sharp objects and anything that could be used as a weapon against yourself (or him) all over the cabin. Each morning, you’d never remember these incidents, though you’d held clear conversations with him and sometimes your ex.

Then you’d brutally killed Miles that night, another night Harry had been simmering on the edge. As he watched you take your revenge, when you kissed him, covering him in blood, then making love to him — that had been the closest Harry had come to breaching the surface since the night Miles showed up in your kitchen. The only thing that kept Harry back, Tom believed, was the recurring thought of you and the baby.

Miles being dead forced him to move up his timeline. He had this cabin for a while, only bringing you once to show you around, in case he had to ever grab you and run if your ex showed up (though he didn’t tell you that because he didn’t want to worry you). That was why he had replicated the nursery down to every single detail. You had worked so hard on that nursery, you were so excited when it was finished, that he hated for you to lose it should you have to run. So he slipped up to the cabin a couple of days a week when you weren’t with him, and worked on getting it set up. He had even stocked the kitchen in case (only buying perishables on your second trip up there when you were truly on the run). He’d also made sure to put a down payment on a small house some ways away in case you both needed a fresh start elsewhere. And that was where he was driving you now.

He’d meant what he said, if you wanted him gone, he would be, but he hoped you’d keep him with you. He was already worried about your breakdown from earlier today and your constant worry for your baby’s safety. Not to mention, your ex had been a cop. While they would most likely never find his body, they would associate his disappearance with you and you would always be sought after. And since Tom had disappeared with you, they’d either think you killed him as well or that he’d helped. So he’d alway be sought after as well. That had been one of the reasons he wanted to get out of Dodge as soon as possible but also, he wanted you as far from your main trigger as possible. And he also wanted to get you help, the same help he’d gotten (though he’d have to find another therapist now). Though he was pretty sure the baby was safe, like he kept assuring you, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, an official one.

He glanced down at you, his eyes softening as he took you in. He loved you deeply and he wanted to be with you. He loved your baby and he wanted to be there for her, stepping in as her dad if you’d let him like you had both originally planned. You had one more month to go until the baby arrived. He hoped this new house, this new life he was bringing you to made you happy. He was going to set up the nursery again for you and this time you’d have a real living room and dining room. The kitchen wouldn’t be so cramped or outdated and you would have a nice, comfortable mattress to sleep on at night. It may not be what your old house was but he would still make it as nice as possible for you. Once he sorted out your paperwork through an old contact of his, you would have access to doctors, the hospital — whatever you needed. The house had a nice backyard for kids to run and play in and the swingset came with the deal which was nice. Tom had even checked to make sure it was in a good school district and a safe neighborhood.

You moved in your sleep, cuddling his arm more and murmuring something he couldn’t make out. He smiled down at you and leaned over to drop a kiss onto your head before glancing back at the road.

He was going to take care of you. Both of you. And the baby. He would keep you all safe. Just like he’d promised.

#tom hanniger x reader #tom hanniger x female reader #tom hanniger #my bloody valentine fanfiction #my bloody valentine #tom hanniger fanfiction #prompt response #tom hanniger x you #tom hanniger x y/n #my bloody valentine fandom #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #thebiggerbear

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callsigns-haze · 1 month

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Out of All: Chp 3

Jake Seresin x OC! Anna Bradshaw

Brothers' Best Friend Series! Follow along as these characters navigate the treacherous waters of love, loyalty, and desire, all while facing the ultimate taboo: falling for your sibling's best friend. From heart-pounding moments to steamy encounters, this series is a rollercoaster of emotions that will keep you hooked until the very end. Brace yourself for intense romantic tension, sizzling chemistry, and enough drama to keep you guessing. Are you ready to embark on this captivating journey?

This chapter includes explicit sexual content with detailed descriptions of sexual activity and intimacy between characters. Scenes depict physical intimacy, including kissing, touching, and biting, with characters described in states of undress. Emotional intensity is explored, encompassing themes of longing, desire, and vulnerability, with brief references to past trauma. Characters may be shown consuming alcoholic beverages, and mature themes such as casual relationships

The studio walls seemed to close in, suffocating you with their unyielding presence. Bloody January, new year, new you, but here you were, stuck in the same cycle of frustration and disappointment. Hours had slipped by like grains of sand through an hourglass, each one adding to the weight of your exasperation.

Today was one of those days where nothing seemed to click, where every note was a struggle, and every chord felt like a battle. The music refused to flow, stubbornly resisting your attempts to coax it into existence. And as the hours stretched on, tensions simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.

Frustration radiated from every corner of the studio, a palpable energy that hung heavy in the air. The once vibrant space now felt suffocating, stifling your creativity with its oppressive atmosphere. All you wanted was to escape, to retreat into the sanctuary of solitude and lick your wounds in peace.

But duty called, in the form of your brother's plea to join him and his friends at Penny's bar tonight. You wanted to meet them, to connect with his circle, but today, the thought of socializing felt like an insurmountable task.

"Anna, we need to get this moving!" Harry's voice cut through the tension, his frustration mirroring your own. With a roll of your eyes, you shot him a pointed look, the weight of exhaustion bearing down on your shoulders.

"What do you honestly think I've been trying to do, huh?" you snapped, your words laced with frustration. You were tired, irritable, and every fiber of your being screamed for release. The studio felt like a prison, trapping you in a cycle of unfulfilled potential and dashed hopes.

As Harry left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for another attempt. One more time, from the top, and then you were out. With a resolve born of sheer determination, you began to play, your voice a beacon of defiance amidst the chaos.

Each note carried the weight of your frustration, each chord a testament to your resilience. Despite the odds, you refused to be defeated, pushing forward with a determination that bordered on desperation. And as the melody unfurled, weaving its way through the heavy atmosphere, you felt a glimmer of hope ignite within you.

The music may not have been perfect, may not have flowed effortlessly from your fingertips, but it was yours. A reflection of your struggle, your perseverance, and your unwavering commitment to your craft. And in that moment, as the music carried you away on its wings, you found solace in the simple act of creation, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still beauty to be found.

"Summer went away Still, the yearning stays I play it cool with the best of them I wait patiently He's gonna notice me It's okay, we're the best of friends Anyway

I hear it in your voice You're smoking with your boys I touch my phone as if it's your face I didn't choose this town I dream of getting out There's just one who could make me stay All my days

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes I waited ages to see you there I search the party of better bodies Just to learn that you never cared

You're on your own, kid You always have been

I see the great escape So long, Daisy May I picked the petals, he loves me not Something different bloomed Writing in my room I play my songs in the parking lot I'll run away

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes I called a taxi to take me there I search the party of better bodies Just to learn that my dreams aren't rare

You're on your own, kid You always have been

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this I hosted parties and starved my body Like I'd be saved by a perfect kiss

The jokes weren't funny, I took the money My friends from home don't know what to say I looked around in a blood-soaked gown And I saw something they can't take away

'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned Everything you lose is a step you take So make the friendship bracelets Take the moment and taste it You've got no reason to be afraid

You're on your own, kid Yeah, you can face this You're on your own, kid You always have been"

---

Bradshaw! Where's your sister at?" Natasha's impatience cut through the chatter, her eyes scanning the bar for your familiar presence. Bradley glanced at his phone, hoping for a message or a sign of your impending arrival, but found nothing. A sense of unease settled over him, a nagging feeling that something was amiss.

"Don't know, Phoenix. She's probably stuck at work," Bradley replied, his voice tinged with concern. He watched as Jake and Javy played darts, his mind drifting back to the front door of the bar. "Where are you, Anna?"

With a flicker of apprehension, Bradley unlocked his phone, dialing your number in a desperate bid for reassurance. Each ring felt like an eternity, his heart pounding in his chest as he prayed for your familiar voice to answer. But the silence on the other end only deepened his worry.

Then, a message popped up on his screen, accompanied by a video from you. Relief flooded through him as he read your text, a small smile tugging at his lips. "We only wrapped up now. Give me ten and I'll be there!"

As he watched the video, a sense of pride swelled within him. Your voice, clear and strong, filled the bar, carrying the weight of your emotions with each note. It was a song about solitude, about facing life's challenges head-on, and Bradley couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for his talented sister.

"Hey guys! My sister's gonna be here in a bit. She sent me a video if you want to see!" Bradley called out to the group, excitement rippling through the air. He had mentioned your burgeoning music career to his friends before, and now they eagerly gathered around him, eager to catch a glimpse of the elusive Anna Bradshaw.

As the video began to play, Jake's eyes widened in recognition. The pieces fell into place, and he realized why you looked so familiar. With your distinctive features and undeniable talent, you were unmistakably Baby Bradshaw, the younger sibling whose musical journey had captivated their curiosity.

As the last notes of your song faded away, a chorus of applause erupted from your audience. Bradley couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest as he watched his sister's talent being recognized and celebrated by those closest to him. In that moment, as the warmth of camaraderie washed over him, he knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always have a supportive network by your side.

He and Coyote both took a step back, their expressions mirroring a mix of shock and disbelief. Javy leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper as he posed a question that hung heavy in the air, "Isn't that the chick from last weekend?" Jake shot his friend a warning look, silently urging him to keep his thoughts to himself.

In that moment, the weight of his actions hit Jake like a ton of bricks. He had been sleeping with a Bradshaw, his wingman's precious baby sister. The realization washed over him, a wave of dread and regret crashing against his conscience. How could he have been so blind? How could he not have recognized you, despite your distinctive features and undeniable talent?

God, Bradley would kill him. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, his stomach churning with a sickening mix of guilt and apprehension. He had betrayed his friend's trust in the worst possible way, tarnishing the bond they had built over years of camaraderie and loyalty.

As he glanced at Bradley, he could see the color draining from his friend's face, his expression a mask of disbelief and shock. The room seemed to spin around him, the reality of the situation hitting him like a freight train. "Hey Bagman, you okay?" Fanboy's voice cut through the tension, his concern palpable as he glanced at his fellow pilot.

"Fine," Jake replied, his voice strained as he forced the words past the lump in his throat. But inside, he knew that nothing would ever be the same again. He had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, and now, he would have to face the consequences of his actions.

---

You parked your car near the light blue bronco, recognizing it as your brother's vehicle. As you stepped out and locked the door, a sense of apprehension settled over you. You knew Bradley would likely be frustrated, perhaps even angry, that your colleagues had made you late for the meeting.

Entering the bar, you spotted Bradley with a group of young aviators. He walked down to greet you, enveloping you in a side hug. His whispered words tugged at your heartstrings. "You actually came," he murmured. With a playful eye roll, you leaned in to whisper back, "You pay the rent without allowing me to, I had no choice."

The resemblance between you and Bradley was uncanny, from the curls in your hair to the twinkle in your eyes. As he introduced you to his friends, you greeted them warmly, but your attention was quickly drawn to one individual in particular: Jake. Jake Seresin, Hangman, Bradley's wingman.

Bradley's introduction sent a jolt of panic through you. You had slept with Jake, your brother's wingman. Out of all the people, why him? The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and you knew you had to tread carefully to ensure that Bradley never found out about your previous encounter with Jake.

As Jake greeted you with a Texan charm that sent shivers down your spine, you struggled to maintain your composure. Bradley couldn't know, couldn't suspect anything. So you smiled politely, nodding at Jake's introduction, all the while grappling with the knowledge of the secret you shared with his wingman.

Jake knew that Bradley could never figure out that the two of you had met previously, so he played it cool, maintaining his composure to prevent your brother from catching on. "Hangman, but you can call me Jake, darlin'," he said, his Texan accent adding a touch of charm to his words.

As Jake shook your hand, Bradley watched the interaction closely, his protective instincts kicking in. "Brad told me a lot about you," you remarked casually, withdrawing your hand and wrapping your arms around yourself as you engaged in conversation with Jake. "I could say the same," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed Bradley had rejoined the group, leaving you to converse with Jake. But before you could delve further into conversation, Jake leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "We need to talk."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you met his intense gaze, scanning the room to ensure no one was listening in on your conversation. "Yeah, that's putting it nicely," you replied, a sense of apprehension creeping into your tone.

----

"You're actually his sister," Jake sighed, his frustration evident as he ran his hands down his face while seated on the outside deck of the bar. The realization hung heavy in the air, both of you grappling with the unexpected twist of fate that had brought you together.

"Look Jake... Would you change anything if I wasn't his sister?" you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty. It was a question neither of you had anticipated, probing the depths of what could have been if circumstances were different.

"No," Jake replied simply, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering determination. Despite the complications that your relationship with Bradley introduced, he was adamant that he wouldn't alter a single moment they had shared.

His response left you conflicted. On one hand, you were relieved that he didn't regret what had transpired between you. On the other, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt about the potential fallout with your brother.

"What about Bradley?" You countered, your mind racing with the implications of your newfound connection with Jake.

As you contemplated the situation, memories of the rules you and your best friend, Caila, had established as teenagers flooded your mind. Rule number one: Never, under any circumstances, become romantically involved with each other's siblings. It was a pact born out of loyalty and mutual respect, a boundary that had never been crossed. You believed guys had some sort of similar boundaries.

But now, faced with the undeniable chemistry between you and Jake, you questioned whether those rules still held weight. Was it breaking a code if neither of you were aware of its existence? And could you deny the undeniable attraction that pulsed between you, despite the potential consequences?

"I've done worse things," Jake confessed, his words hanging in the air like a weighty admission. In that moment, you knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, but the pull of desire was too strong to resist.

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asexualbuthorny · 1 month

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part 3 of "Simon has a bad time in the omegaverse" thing

CW: kidnapping, torture, talks of rape/non-con, bitching, turning an alpha into an omega, non-con chastity bondage, non-con injections and drugging, the makers of cod made Ghost for the express purpose of suffering and having bad things happen to him, established relationship, alpha x alpha relationship, alpha x omega relationship, happy ending yay! :), sprinkles of smut, inspired by a fic i read on ao3 which i lowkey regret reading, this is the darkest part so the non-con warning is for this part be careful and don't read if it makes you uncomfortable or scares you

He was in heat. it was the second day or so of this unbearable craving deep inside his loins yet because he was alone and in a chastity cage he couldn't even grind against anything to give himself some release despite his dick leaking like a faulty faucet. His captors entered the cell, carrying a black bag with them and chuckling menacingly. Simon growled at them, hissed and spit and struggled in defiance but was quickly pinned down and injected with some kind of chemical that wouldn't let him move but would allow him to feel everything. The enemies started reaching into the bag and what they pulled out made Simons stomach sink. Toys of various sizes and colors were pulled out one by one, knotted ones, vibrating ones, any and every sort of "heat assistance" one could think of. As one of them approached Simon tried to struggle away with everything he still had in him but it was all in vain as the enemy soldier knelt down and maneuvered his legs to be spread as wide as they could. Simon could feel the toy rubbing against him and grunted (he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of screaming he wouldn't) as the toy was pushed inside him. That was how the enemy soldiers "helped" him out with his heat. They would do this for hours using toy after toy, milking Simon dry until his thighs were covered in slick and cum and his body shook from the overstimulation. The only good thing (although "good" was so subjective you couldn't find a single coherent answer) was that they never stuck their own dicks into him. "Keeping him pure" is what they'd said and Simon had a guess that if he wasn't saved soon he would be trafficked and sold to the highest bidder which arguably was much worse than anything else they could think of. His biggest concern was still you, always you. The voice in his head that was telling him you wouldn't want him anymore was louder than ever. He wanted to cry but he couldn't, not here. He didn't want you to leave him, he didn't want you to look at him differently. The thought of you looking at him with disgust or distain made his stomach twist. but despite that voice, despite the endless toys going in and out of him he couldn't give up hope. Thus the second half of his captivity went like that. Chemically induced heats and endless thrusting of a toy inside of him as he came for the nth time that day. The time has blurred for him, he can no longer tell what day it is or if it's even day anymore.

Eventually something even worse happened. If things could get worse for Simon "Ghost" Riley they always would. As his captivity went on and the endless barrage of toys kept filling him day in and day out his body started responding to the endless stimulation. Moans would rip themselves out of his mouth and his hips would roll against the toys his captors kept sticking in him. Yet as addled with chemicals and hormones and pheromones as his brain was he still only ever thought of you which arguably made things worse since the thought of the person who he considered his mate made his body all the more aroused and needy. He hated it but he couldn't stop thinking of you. You were one of the very few things still keeping his mind afloat. He tried to stay strong but his hopes of being rescued were waning. Just as he was close to snapping he heard the very distinct and very familiar sound of gunfire and shouting. He weakly rolled himself over to face the door but was too weakened to make any sound. His hope had been reignited. Perhaps the universe hated Simon "Ghost" Riley a little less.....

You have been loosing your mind ever since Simon was pronounced MIA. You were constantly pissed, your alpha scent sharp and threatening. It was getting so bad even your team were getting wary around you. You and Price had way more than one argument about not doing enough to find Simon. Despite your outward anger at everything deep inside you were scared. Scared for Simon and what was being done to him, scared of never seeing him again. He was yours, your Simon and you were damned if you'd let some two bit terrorists take him away from you. When Price told you that they had Simons location you almost tore through the door trying to get out, almost forgetting your gear but Price managed to stop you from doing anything stupid. During the entirety of the helicopter ride to the location you kept clutching your gun in a death grip in preparation to rip through any and every scumbag that had a hand in taking your mate away from you. And boy did you. You fought those bastards tooth and claw, tearing them to shit both with your weapon and your bare hands. Blood stained your uniform and you could taste the enemies blood in your mouth. You tried your best to sniff out Simons scent but couldn't quite find it until your nose caught a faint trace of bourbon and you ran faster than you thought could ever be possible towards the so familiar smell. You busted through the door of the holding cell to see your mate, your Simon lying there chained, beaten and starved with the faint smell of sex coming off him. That made your inner alpha feral with rage, the possessiveness overriding rational thoughts as you ripped through the people who were in the cell with him, tormenting him with the toys.

Simon was so happy to see you. Finally he could leave this place. The sight of you ripping through the people responsible made his addled brain reel with the rush of need and heat. The scent of angry alpha was so masculine and overpowering that it was hard for him to keep from whining out. Once you were done rampaging your feral alpha brain focused back on Simon and you took a deep breath yet something was wrong. His scent was different and the scent of slick was very thick in the air. You however didn't have time to wonder about that because your first priority was your partner. You found the keys to the shackles holding Simon tied down in one of the corpses pockets and quickly unlocked them, holding Simon close and reassuring that everything was okay. He was still dizzy and in the throes of a chemically induced heat and couldn't resist shoving his face into your neck, taking in as much of your scent as he could. You thought it strange that he was being so affectionate but decided to put your concerns aside to focus on getting him out of there. You contacted the team trough your radio and told them that you found Simon and needed emergency medical evac. You moved quickly, carrying Simon back to the helicopter to finally bring him back home. He clung to you all throughout and refused to let go even as medical staff tried to get him on a gurney. You shushed him, letting out a soothing scent and many soft purrs hoping that he would calm down just a little bit. In the end he had to be sedated so the medics could get him back to base and give him proper treatment.

When you got the news of what has been done to him to say that you were shocked would've been an understatement. The bastards who had him bitched him out and turned your beloved alpha into an omega. Now you weren't mad that he was an omega, you would love him in any form he took but you were livid that someone would do that to another person. Of course the talk of reversing what has been done was brought up but due to the type and amount of chemicals they couldn't do anything that wouldn't put Simons life at risk yet so he would be subjected to living with the forced transition. You were pissed but had put your anger aside for the good of your partner who was recovering from what happened but of course, the shitshow never ends.

A nurse approached you and told you that Simon was still in heat and had been moved to a heat room to make things more comfortable. She (and almost everyone else) knew of your and Simons relationship and advised you to be by his side as his partner and alpha. As reluctant as you were you knew it would be easier to bear the heat with an alpha by his side so despite being unsure you made your way towards the heat room hoping that Simon wouldn't reject you and let you help him bear with the changes in his body.

Will be continued in pt.4 which will be soft and fluffy with maybe some suggestiveness

#my post #male reader x male character #alpha male reader #omegaverse #dom reader #dom!reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #x male reader #x gn reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty x male reader #horny?#but like not in the best way #call of duty ghost

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zhoras-bitch · 6 months

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Shadows Creeping

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow, Book 2

Pairing: Aerin Valleros x elf!f!MC (Reina 'Ray' Nightbloom)

Genre: Angst

Rating: Mature

Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, torture, involuntary drug use, vague sexual themes, crippling guilt, general sense of hopelessness, Valax is exaggeratedly evil

Word count: 3.2K

Summary: After a botched raid on the Ash Empire outpost, Aerin finds himself locked in a tight chase with Princess Valax. The labyrinthine dungeons beneath the Shadow Court Fortress stir up some of his darkest memories. Will he be able to escape Valax, or the ghosts of his past?

A/N: Post book 2 chapter 8. The story is mostly inspired by @secret-fungi with a little bit of @spacetravels. Valax is very OOC in that I made her so evil (for the plot!) I actually feel kind of bad about it. Also, shamelessly using this as an opportunity to practice writing action sequences. Enjoy (you won't).

Taking a sharp left, Aerin dives into the secret alcove behind an inconspicuous shabby tapestry and slowly slides down the cold stone wall, greedily gasping for air. Thank the gods he has memorized the layout of the dungeons beneath the Shadow Court Fortress so well, even if the Ash Empire has… redecorated the place since they took over. Admittedly, he hasn't had the chance to properly look around—and he really, really hopes to keep it that way. Still, this little chase, unfortunately, left him enough time to notice the fresh blood spatters in some of the empty cells and hear the blood-chilling screams of unfortunate souls trapped deeper in the labyrinth of these wretched hallways.

'Lovely,' Aerin mutters to himself, allowing his eyes to close for just a second. 'Very lived-in.'

His solace is hopelessly fleeting, shattered by the distinct clicking of heels against cold stone. Distant for now, the footsteps echo ominously in the dim candlelit hallway—the only path that could lead Aerin to freedom. And each one of them is louder than the last.

'The famous Prince Aerin,' Valax's voice seems to resonate through every nook and cranny of the dungeons, a low purr of a big cat about to jump its prey. 'Please forgive us for the cold welcome, your highness. We didn't realize we would be receiving such an esteemed guest.'

So they have identified him already. That's unfortunate, though not entirely unexpected. One of the guards must've recognized him during the earlier scuffle. Aerin bites his tongue, fighting the urge to curse, knowing that any sound would instantly reveal his hiding place. It was supposed to be a straightforward mission — get in, grab the supplies, get out. Two hours, maybe three, tops. Or it would be, hadn't he run directly into a squad of the most elite Ash Empire soldiers, led by Princess Valax herself. Why was she here, anyway? Last he checked, she was supposed to be chasing Ray and her merry band of intrepid adventurers all over the forests of Morella.

And yet, here she was.

'I've heard so much about you, you know. It's almost as if we're acquainted in absentia.'

Of course she has. Aerin knows what they say about him in the Ash Empire. Dreadlord's errand boy. His resident Lightrealmer lap dog. His little—

Aerin bites the inside of his cheek, hard. Distracting him is precisely what Valax wants. The self-pity can wait until after he's free. Now, he needs to think.

His bag of supplies has grown much lighter after he parted ways with Ray and others. The Shadow Realm's charred wastelands can be challenging to find herbs in. Especially the healing ones — the migraine has been killing him. And the skirmish with the soldiers earlier has depleted his already very unimpressive reserves even further. But surely, he can come up with something?

His fingers fumble through his bag, searching for something—anything—until finally closing around a half-empty pouch of dry resin, and Aerin clutches it so tightly that his knuckles grow white. Yes, it isn't much, but it will suffice—and at that moment, that's all he's asking for.

The approaching footsteps grow uncomfortably closer, each one counting down the seconds before his demise. Aerin's heartbeat matches their eerie rhythm, but he's ready. With swift precision, he sends a tiny pouch of flaming resin skidding across the floor toward Valax's feet and the next moment, it erupts in a thick cloud of bitter black smoke. Aerin launches. He can feel the rush of air as Valax's hand nearly grazes his hood, but the surprise is on his side. Twisting like an eel, he slips away from her outstretched grasp and bolts.

He knows better than to believe that his little diversion will stall Valax for long, his instinct keen as ever. Behind him, a fierce gust of wind, strong enough to bend trees, sweeps the smoke away in one fell swoop. A second more, and it might have toppled Aerin too, but he lunges into the nearest open chamber just in time. Behind him, the heavy metal door slams shut with a deafening boom.

The room he finds himself in is peculiar. A large, dimly lit chamber welcomes him with the quiet hum of strange machines, the ticking and clicking of odd knick-knacks and the soft glow of iridescent vials. Metals cages bare their bars ominously in the dark corners of the room. His gaze takes it all with greedy interest. At a better time, Aerin could spend hours here, figuring out the purpose of each strange device and weird contraption. Now, though, he scarcely has a moment to take cover behind one of the towering metallic cabinets and calm his breath. Just in the nick of time before the door opens again.

Valax pierces the room with her dark, heavy gaze, no doubt noticing every minute detail before stepping inside. Her steps are slow and deliberate as she circles the room, a shark sensing the smell of blood, and each time her heel connects with the floor, it's a sledgehammer blow to Aerin's temples.

'Your friend Reina told me so much about you, you know,' Valax purrs.

Every one of her words is a stone in an avalanche. But it's not even the words themselves; it is the sheer wrongness of hearing that name uttered by this voice that truly shakes Aerin to his very core. He knows Ray is not particularly fond of her full name, not really. She told him she'd always found it too old-fashioned. It made her sound like some stuck-up Whitetower noble, she said.

Unless it was him who called her that.

'Ah, we've had so many wonderful times together. In this very room, actually,' Valax continues. From his vantage point, Aerin can clearly see Valax's hand as it tenderly caresses the large stone table in the centre of the room. As his eyes follow her movement, it dawns on him that the table has leather straps at each corner. 'Yes, she became quite talkative at times. Especially after I treated her to a bit of belladonna and dreamroot tonic.'

A chilling shiver slithers down Aerin's spine. He's familiar with the effects of belladonna tonic. Thank Vostrasz, that sadistic bastard. He loved dosing his victims with this vile concoction and watching them as they screamed, unable to escape the visions of their worst nightmares. Aerin has witnessed its effects once, the memory carved into his mind. A young man, skin glistening with cold sweat, empty eyes with freakishly wide pupils staring at something only he could see, dry lips whispering a desperate plea as tears streamed down his face.

As if compelled by some wicked force, his gaze is drawn back to the stone table. For a haunting second, he can see Ray's lifeless body sprawled upon it. Bile surges in his throat. He shuts his eyes and clenches his fists.

'She screamed so loudly. Screamed until she had no voice left to scream with. Would you like to know what she screamed, your highness?'

He needs to get out of here.

As Valax turns her back to him, Aerin seizes the opportunity and hurls a small pebble to the far corner of the room, where it lands in a tiny clink. Valax's head snaps towards the sound, and Aerin jumps, throwing his whole body onto the massive cabinet serving as his cover. The cabinet creeks, staggers, and topples right towards Valax's head. Vials and boxes spill across the chamber in a cacophony of clatter and crashing. Amid the ensuing chaos, Aerin rushes towards the exit, swiping a bunch of supplies laid out on one of the side tables into his bag.

Unfortunately, he doesn't make it all the way. Valax, with her inhuman strength, halts the toppling cabinet mid-air with a single hand. Crouched behind an overturned table, Aerin can see the dark veins pulsing on Valax's forearm as she holds the cabinet still for a moment, metal crumpling like paper tissue under her fingers, then shoves it back into the wall. One of the glass vials must have shattered against her forehead because he can see a strange iridescent liquid mingling with dark blood as it slowly trickles down her brow, but otherwise, Valax doesn't look hurt at all. Just pissed.

Holding his breath so as not to make a single sound, Aerin frantically sorts through the ingredients he managed to snatch. There is some dry hemlock and foxglove. A vial of dragonfly wings. A pouch of saltpetre and sugar. Oh, if only there was sulphur… Please, let there be sulphur…

In his frantic state, Valax's voice is cold and still like a blade. 'Don't do it, Aerin. That's what she said... She seemed so scared, too. Terrified. I wonder what you did to scare her so badly, your highness?'

Aerin grits his teeth, forcing his hands to keep working through the tiny vials, but his mind is, unfortunately, much harder to control. He knows nothing of Ray's nightmares—there is no way he could know—but he's got plenty of his own. And as Valax's words keep ringing in his ears, one in particular raises its ugly head.

Smears of blood blooming on the throne room floor. A portal buzzing with dark magic. Tang of metal and ozone in the air. Nia—the priestess's limp body in his arms. He tries not to look at her face—it's easier this way. Instead, he only looks into the portal, Shadow Realm's lifeless landscape spread out before his eyes. He's so close. One tiny step away. But just before he's about to take it, he glances back.

Briefly, his mind registers Mal's face, twisted with rage. The terror in Tyril's eyes. Imtura's teeth bared in a scorching scowl. But in the end, it's her face that is burned into the back of his eyelids.

Her cheeks, oddly wet. Her body, trembling ever so slightly. She looks so tiny at that moment. So lost, like a puppet with her strings cut. And so utterly, heartbreakingly sad. She doesn't make a sound, but her lips curve around the words, and Aerin swears he can hear her voice as she pleads, 'Don't do it.'

'Maybe you should try being afraid of me as well!' Aerin erupts, letting go of the pent-up anger as he hurls the burning concoction he mixed up at Valax, then dives through the doorway. Behind him, the makeshift bomb explodes with a deafening roar of fire, its fiery breath shuffling the hair on Aerin's nape. The skin on his hands and knees burns, scraped from the clumsy fall. But the pain is so worth it. So worth the feeling of dark satisfaction blazing through his veins. Having this place where Ray suffered countless days and nights reduced to ashes… It's invigorating.

Celebration will have to wait, though. Aerin knows that destroying Valax herself won't be as simple as her laboratory. The echoes of the explosion still ringing in his ears, he scrambles to his feet and takes off in the direction of the dungeon's exit.

He doesn't get far before the sinister sound of Valax's approaching footsteps reaches him again.

'So, the Dreadlord's little lapdog has some bite, too. Still, that won't be enough,' Valax… giggles? It's a disturbing, chilling sound that makes the hairs on Aerin's arms stand on end. 'Unfortunately for you, you don't have quite the same… effect on me as you do on the Realmwalker.'

In this dark, horrifying dungeon, her voice rings with eerie delight, as if she's remembering a very funny joke, and Aerin is not in on it.

Aerin has no time to dwell on it, though. Reaching a crossroads, he takes a sharp right and, hiding behind the corner, steals a glance over his shoulder. As expected, Valax is closing in, tendrils of smoke and shadow swirling around her body as though she carries a piece of the very fire he started on her.

'You see, the Realmwalker and I have spent so much time together. Months… Why, I would almost consider us to be close friends! And she has told me many, many things over those months… About you, too! Aren't you curious, little princeling?'

Why are you listening to her, his mind screams out. She doesn't know where he is. She's just baiting him. Trying to get a reaction, provoke him into revealing himself. There is no reason to believe a single venomous word that escapes her lips.

'I'm sorry, Aerin. That is one of my favourites. Do you like it, princeling?'

Lies, lies, lies, every single word of hers. After all, whatever would she ask his forgiveness for when everything… Everything is his fault. And yet, as Valax's words echo in his ears, Aerin swears he can hear her voice—

Ray has always been so strong. He's seen her in battle, the hero of Morella, as deadly as she is beautiful. But her heart… He knew her tender, bleeding heart. Always too kind to people who didn't deserve it. To people like him.

Of all things, his mind goes back to the night of the fair in Riverbend—their night. He remembers her skin, dressed in nothing but candlelight, her body melting under his touch like wax as he kissed her thighs. The mighty hero, in his arms, exposed down to her very soul. It struck him then, the power he held. At that moment, he could break her. It wouldn't even be hard.

The thought terrified him. He had power, once. And look where it got him. Power… It brings out the darkness within people. Most live and die without ever truly experiencing it, but Aerin has seen his shadow already. He looked it in the eye. And that is how he knew he could never allow himself to touch her again.

He clenches his teeth and tries to melt into the shadows, away from Valax's piercing gaze.

'Come back, she said. Oh, why wouldn't you come back to her, princeling?'

Aerin knows he shouldn't listen. But every word that falls from Valax's lips is a drop of acid eating away at his very soul. Perhaps that's why he doesn't notice the shadowy tendril winding around his ankle.

Pale rays of early dawn filter into the tent as Aerin hastily packs the last of his admittedly unimpressive belongings.

Ray still lies amidst the crumpled sheets, her hair tousled on the pillow. She's asleep, yet her brows are still knitted together in a painful frown.

That night, he didn't sleep at all, the chatter of his own thoughts too loud to let him rest. For a while, he just laid there, silently studying her face. She whimpers in her sleep. What awful things does she see when she closes her eyes? He didn't know; he just stroked her hair tenderly until she seemed to calm down. Her frown never went away, though. Why is it that every time she is with him, she looks like she's in pain? The thought made him feel ill.

Finally, he secures his bag and steps toward the exit, his goodbye letter resting on the nightstand. Before him stretches the forest that skirts the edges of Riverbend, tranquil and beautiful in its robe made of golden dew. But just as he's about to step into the dawn, he glances back. He just can't help himself.

As though sensing his gaze, she stirs in her slumber and raises her head. Aerin freezes. Her lavender eyes twinkle for just a second, half-obscured beneath the heavy fawn lashes. From her perplexed expression, it is clear she's not yet fully awake.

'Aerin?' she exhales.

'Yes,' Aerin replies, the word sticking in his throat. 'It's me.'

He's utterly still, fearing that any sudden movement or noise will awaken her further, revealing him standing there. Fully clothed. With his belongings in tow.

'Come back,' she asks, her feather-soft voice piercing right through his heart.

'I'm just getting some water. Go back to sleep.'

It's so hard to keep his voice straight, but he manages. He's lied for so long it's become second nature. Finally, Ray lets out a compliant hum, seemingly convinced by his words, and falls back onto the pillow. Aerin lingers for a few more moments, then finally walks away. Her voice still echoes in his ears, but his mind is made up. This is for the best. If he stays away, he won't be able to hurt her again.

That's the lie he keeps telling himself.

The shadow yanks him closer to its master. Aerin almost loses his balance but rolls away at the very last second. In one fluid motion, he draws a short blade from the sheath on his shin and slices through the tendril, freeing himself.

But it's too late. Valax stands in front of him, and behind his back, the corridor stretches into a dead end.

In one last desperately hopeless attempt, he tightens his grip on the hilt and lunges at Valax.

'Help me,' Valax whispers, the plea laced with cruel amusement.

His stomach drops, and his head spins, but he almost manages to keep his composure. Almost.

Valax leans into his attack, sidestepping at the very last moment, and strikes his wrist with an open palm, sending his dagger clattering across the dungeon floor. Her other hand grabs his throat and slams him into the wall like he weighs nothing at all. The back of his head connects with stone in a hollow thud. It's over.

Valax's clawed fingers tighten around his neck as she studies his face with a ruthless smile.

'You'll serve as bait quite nicely,' she declares.

'You're wasting your time,' Aerin chokes out. 'She won't come for me.'

But his lie rings hollow. He might have believed it once, but not anymore. Not for a while. As if reading his mind, Valax smirks.

'Oh, but I think she will.'

Ray will come for him. Once upon a time, this thought would've filled his stomach with butterflies, but at this moment, it sounds like hollow dread. She will come here, into the Shadow Court Fortress, right into Valax's eager clutches. Because of him.

How foolish he was to think that her anguish would end if he just stepped away. Even now, even here, he's still putting her in danger. Still hurting her. He really is good for absolutely nothing, isn't he?

Darkness begins to engulf his vision, but just before it consumes him entirely, Valax abruptly releases her grip. Aerin collapses to the ground, his body limp, coughing violently.

'But until she does, we have much to discuss,' Valax says, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling until Aerin meets her gaze. Her eyes are dark and cruel as she studies his face. Then she grins. 'I wonder if you'll scream her name too, little princeling.'

She doesn't need to guess. She knows he will.

#probably shouldn't post it just a few hours before the new chapter but anyway #almost put the genre as 'emotional torture porn'#playchoices #my writing #blades of light and shadow #aerin valleros #oc: ray nightbloom

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cangrellesteponme · 6 months

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NOVEMBER 4TH - SETTING SUN

(read this on AO3 here)

final day of dadbastian week! i come bearing gifts (soul crushing angst)

this one is… well the prompt is setting sun, what else was i supposed to write? a heartwarming conclusion? i'm an evil creature, what can i say.

in which the contract's last day comes. sebastian gets one thing he wanted from his young master, at the cost of everything else.

enjoy!

The initial plan for the day is to let the young master sleep as much as he would like to.

Unfortunately, he is up before dawn and screams himself hoarse at the mere sight of anyone in his room, so Sebastian stands by the door in the darkest hour, waiting for him to discern the present from the memories. It takes a long time, always, but he eventually opens the door.

“I don’t think I’ll go back to sleep. Should we get ready for the day?”

His voice is both brave and fragile, but his still glistening cheeks make the scales tip in favour of the latter. Sebastian carefully wipes the tears away, as he always does.

The day is… odd, as expected.

Sebastian offers to play any game, go anywhere, eat anything at all, and the child agrees without much enthusiasm, even if he seems to enjoy some of it, at the very least.

The oddest part is that he talks, and talks, and Sebastian cannot help but feel like he is the one being comforted. He most ardently wants to say that it is futile and unneeded, as he is not the one who dies today, and that loss surely overshadows any mixed feelings he may feel about it all. But every time he considers telling the boy he is fine, his voice refuses to cooperate and he feels the familiar constriction of his oath, like his own hand around his throat warning him not to lie.

He persists through the day with those feelings unspoken.

As Sebastian hesitates to tuck him in, his young master grows quiet, pensive. With his — quite understandable — propensity for sombre moods, it usually is no cause for concern. Nothing is usual about this day, and the silence weighs heavily on Sebastian’s mind. It is with the urge to lift that that he thoughtlessly speaks.

“Any concerns?”

It sounds like a pathetic attempt at addressing the thousand regrets of the day, laughably concealing them under the veil of doubt. As if any question, any answer, could rid the end itself of its finality. Oddly lenient, the boy does not point it out.

“Many. I am… afraid? Isn’t it odd to be afraid of something I wanted?” he asks, and he somehow looks exactly like the child Sebastian first met that day. The sight is disconcerting, to say the least. Even more so considering that there isn’t much fear in him, comparatively.

Sebastian has seen him afraid before, has terrified him himself many times, but he has never quite looked like this — it is hard to see any fear in him in the complete absence of fight-or-flight, hard to put an adequate name on this aimless and dulled terror, and the calm facade reigning over it all. Sebastian would once have found it fascinating. He is now appalled at the lack of fight left in his young master.

“I would love to say something nice and heartwarming. In another world, I think I would have told you I hope to be born again as your son this time.”

He sighs and leans back into the pillows, and the pallor of his skin makes him seen gone already.

“But we both know my soul is not going anywhere.”

Sebastian wants to tell him many things, but not a single word comes to mind. He only knows human emotions by name, and recognises them only from an observer’s standpoint, for a manipulator’s purpose. None of this knowledge helps him put words on the sinking weight in his limbs currently at war with his hunger — one tells him to stay, stay and watch over his boy, and the other whispers promises of devouring a soul worth his patience, his work, his attention. For reasons he doesn’t understand, Sebastian does not want to think about what he would do if he had an actual choice.

(He fears, deep down, that even if there were loopholes in the contract, he would have given in to his hunger.)

He has been waiting for this day — it was written into the contract, after all, even if he hadn’t expected to suffer from more than hunger pains in the final hour.

Is this loss, he wonders, or perhaps grief? Would those words ever fit the emotions of a being who is more of a force of nature than its own individual? They might, he thinks, as the thought of eternity without this master makes flesh collapse into an aching void where his heart might have been, if he had bothered to give his body more than the appearance of something arguably human.

Unaware of Sebastian’s turmoil, or perhaps unwilling to do much to acknowledge it, the boy looks up at him, tense and expectant.

“It is time, isn’t it?” he asks as airily as if he wanted tea and not death in his cup.

It is, in fact, time — as much as it will ever be. Sebastian is… unsure of how to proceed. Back in the earlier days of the contract, he planned to make it hurt — that was, after all, the best way of consuming a soul — but now… would he hesitate, if the boy cried? Screamed? Pleaded? It is yet another question he wants no answer to.

“Sleep,” he hears himself say, and he is surprised to hear the faintest tremble in his own voice, and to see it mirrored in his unstable hand brushing hair out of the boy’s face. “I will watch over you until the end.”

He looks… stunned — as if the tenderness behind the offer of a painless end and the gentleness in touch and treatment were inconceivable, grounds for stupefaction. Sebastian realises that the kindness he himself perceives as the dominating force in his spirit is still an odd, uncharacteristic behaviour in the child’s eyes. That even though his soul has known easy, freely given affection in his youngest years, it has also faced storms and tidal waves of pain too great not to submerge and taint the memory of every single past act of love, no matter how immense his daily joys once were. That Sebastian himself once was a devastating flood, regardless of his current efforts to be the sun his young master needs.

All at once, he is overwhelmed by the desire to bargain for another day, another month, another year, anything to right past wrongs and give his boy enough warmth for happiness to freely emerge once again. But the sun sets already.

In the quiet that follows, Sebastian tells himself it is the soul’s sorrow he feels, and not his own — as he is, of course, incapable of such emotional depth — even as sobs too loud to be the fruit of imagination echo through the Phantomhive manor. Not that anyone will ever know, either way.

#'having a breakdown after my girl dinner <33'#ekjnfkzejf #thank you to everyone who participated to dadbastian week in any way. much love :)#kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #my writing #dadbastian #dadbastianweek2023 #dadbastiansettingsun

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roseofdarknessblog · 1 year

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Holding On or Letting Go (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 3 814

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

TW: mentions of anxiety, suicidal thoughts, mental health issues

A/N: These past few months were super rough and somehow nothing seems to be getting better. For now, at least. I wrote this pretty recently and mainly just for myself, but then I thought hey, why not publish it? Maybe there's somebody who needs to hear a few encouraging and hopeful words. If you do, if you somehow find yourself in this story, please consider Levi's words. There is always a chance they are true. ❤️

Holding On or Letting Go

You hated nights like these.

Hated crying yourself to sleep or staying awake for ungodly long hours, accompanied by your worst and darkest thoughts.

It was getting bad again, there was no denying it. Everything in your life was falling apart and you had no idea how to stop it from happening. The pain of being lost and desperate felt almost unbearable.

All those restless nights made you scared to even go to bed, which was funny since your bed was the only place where you felt safe. How ironic, right? What truly scared you, wasn't the actual act of laying down. Rather what came after, if you somehow managed to fall asleep. Nightmares and weird dreams, that made you wake up several times during the night or which left you feeling absolutely exhausted in the morning.

It truly was getting bad, when you started to think about taking your life once again. These thoughts were nothing new to you, quite the opposite. You knew them pretty well for many years. They kept coming and going. Now they were here again... screaming inside your head for attention every waking hour of every day. And it was getting harder and harder to ignore them.

With fresh tears in your eyes, you turned your head to the right and looked at the peacefully sleeping figure right next to you. Levi was laying on his stomach with his face buried into the pillow, while one of his hands was holding yours. That was nothing unusual, he loved and needed to be touching you while sleeping. Only then could he get a proper rest. It took you some time, but you got used to this habit of his. After some time you weren't afraid to say, that you loved how much he needed to feel your presence all the time.

Levi knew you were walking on thin ice once again. There was no way of hiding how you truly felt from him. And that pained you the most. The reality of making him feel miserable just because you weren't strong enough to handle your own life and emotions.

For a little while you just lay there, listening to his slow and steady breathing, watching the gentle rise and fall of his back with every breath. Seeing him so peaceful and vulnerable at the same time made you feel too many things at once. There were no words to correctly describe just how much you loved him.

That's why you were so scared of the future. Of the possibility of losing the battle with your own mind and leaving Levi behind with a broken heart and head full of questions. You feared he would blame himself if you truly decided to let go of this life. And somehow, that hurt even more than all the pain your mind put you through. The vision of him mourning the future you two planned together, but will never happen. Despite everything, you made so many plans and until now, you managed to fulfill only a handful of them. The majority of your dreams still lingered in the future and right now... well, they seemed unreachable to you. They were too far away and you didn't have the energy or the motivation it took to chase them down.

With a smile, that almost hurt and was just a stupid attempt for stopping your tears, you slowly outstretched your free hand toward Levi. With the tips of your fingers, you lightly and very carefully started to trace the outlines of all the muscles on his bare back, gently moving onto his shoulder and left arm. You wanted to remember all the little details about him. Store them in your head for the worst moments. He was always something like your own little sanctuary. Someone who you could run to, when everything became too overwhelming and scary.

Levi stirred a little but didn't wake up. You waited for a couple of seconds, your fingers still lingering over his body. When he didn't move again and didn't open his eyes, you let your fingertips caress his warm skin a little more. Both of your bodies were illuminated by the soft moonlight streaming in through the window.

„What are you thinking about?“ he asked suddenly in a sleepy voice, pulling your hand closer and kissing your knuckles. Without thinking, you moved closer, hiding in the embrace of his strong arms. Feeling his warmth beside you under the covers was one of the best feelings in the world, no matter how bad you were feeling. „Do you want to tell me what′s wrong?“

„Not really.“ You already knew, there was no point in talking. All it did, was drain you even more, anyways. Talking about your problems and emotions never solved anything. It felt pointless.

„You can talk to me about anything, love.“ His words were quiet and full of concern. Maybe that’s why he hugged your even tighter, burying his nose into your freshly washed hair.

He never failed to remind you how much he loves simple little things about you. Like the way your favorite shampoo smells, your most frequently used nail polish color, or the way you dress up in clothes you find the most comfortable to wear. The man loved everything about you. Everything. Literally. Even the things you hated to look at and the things you wished could just simply disappear.

He could never get enough of touching your soft skin. His hands just loved grabbing you by your hips, even though you hated them for being too wide. He found sweet pleasure in kissing and carefully biting your thighs, while making love to you, even though you hated them for not being skinny enough. He loved to lay his head on your stomach and talk to you about his day, even though you were disgusted with it for not being flat enough.

And so on.

There wasn’t a part of your body this man would not adore. If he could, he would kiss every tiny little inch at least a hundred times a day. Maybe even more. He never had enough of you, not even after hours of sweet and equally dominant intimacies. His own exhaustion never mattered to him. When he saw that you wanted him some more, that you needed to feel him some more, he obeyed without a single word. He was very well aware of the fact, that sometimes it was him and him only, who could keep your mind from wandering to dark and dangerous places.

„I′m scared,“ you finally spoke, swallowing hard. Your eyes were once more burning with tears that wanted to stream down your cheeks. The pain in your chest was growing worse by the second. Slowly it was almost impossible to take a breath without needing to suppress the need to sob. „I’m scared. And lost. And just so exhausted from fighting with my own god damned mind every single day. It was supposed to get better. I tried, I really did try this time and I believed that it’s gonna be fine. But it’s not, because I can feel everything getting bad again. And I’m just so incredibly scared, that this time...“

All of those words seemed to come out of nowhere. At first, you didn’t even realize that you said them out loud. Only after your voice disappeared into the darkness surrounding the both of you. The world behind the windows suddenly seemed too quiet. Almost dead. As if you and Levi were the only ones left in the universe.

„I don’t think I can fight anymore, Levi. Or rather... I′m not sure I want to fight.“

„Then I’ll fight for you, no problem,“ he replied almost immediately, pressing his lips to your forehead. His voice sounded almost too calm. Did he not understand what you just said to him? „I’m not letting you go. Never.“

„Why?“

You waited for the tears to run down your cheeks, but it suddenly felt as if you were too numb and tired to even cry again. Despite your heart and soul being ripped apart by everyday life. Despite your mind trying to end you during every awake moment of each day.

„Because I know you don’t want to die. You want the exact opposite.“ You furrowed your brows, trying to look into his eyes. They looked even prettier in the silvery moonlight. „When you smile, laugh, and joke around and when you’re excited about something... I mean really, truly excited when you ramble to me about some of your favorite things for hours and even days... that is the real you.“

„What?“

„You don’t want to die, Y/N,“ he repeated, brushing the tips of his fingers alongside your cheek and jaw. His touch was gentle as always. As if he was touching a porcelain doll, deathly afraid it would break. „There is so much this life has to offer and I know you want to experience so many things. You have your dreams for the future and the way you talk about them when you let your guard down... I know you don’t want to die.“

Why did he keep on repeating those words? How could he know? How could he be so sure? It was you, who had to live inside your head. It was you, who knew all the little details that made you think that this life is simply not for you.

„I know you want to live a long and happy life. And I really hope, that you are aware of the fact, that it′s not too late to start over. With anything. You are still young and have many, many opportunities. Your past mistakes don't have to hold you back from anything.“

„I′m tired,“ you whispered, wrapping your arm around his body. As if you were afraid, that he′s going to suddenly disappear if you don′t hold him tight enough. „And so unbelievably scared of everything. You can't even imagine how draining it is... to live like this for so many years. Always thinking about every little detail of every possible situation and expecting the worst. Dreading the moment I′ll have to get out of bed and face a new day. Always hiding the fact, that I′m constantly in so much pain.“

The way he held you against his body and rubbed your back made you surrender, and tell him everything that was on your mind. Levi reassured you many times, that it was absolutely okay. You could always talk to him about anything and everything. About every little detail, that bothered you. But doing it was hard even after all that time you spent together.

This wasn't the life he deserved. Not the life you wanted him to live. Somebody like Levi deserved only the best of everything. Not a burden like you. Not a partner, who promised him many things, but eventually wasn′t able to fulfill anything. Not someone, who was planning on leaving him behind, despite him trying his best every single day.

„I don′t think I want to do this anymore.“

„What exactly makes you think that?“ he asked, running his fingers through your hair. You tried to take a couple of steadying breaths before answering him. However, the next couple of minutes were spent in complete silence. „I know how misleading your anxious thoughts can get. But I also know that you are strong enough to fight them. You know they are not telling you the truth.“

Mental illness took many things from you. Throughout the last ten years or so it turned you into a completely different person in many aspects. You tried to fight back and get better multiple times. But nothing was working, you always ended up where you began. All the effort was pointless, it only left you more defeated.

„Everything is going to be okay, love. Everything, I promise you. No matter how scared and tired you are right now, it′s going to get better.“ His lips pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. „We′ll figure everything out. Together, you and I. There is nothing we can′t get through, remember that. It will get better... so much better. You will be happy again. And so glad you didn′t give up. There is just so much beauty in this life you still need to see and feel. You deserve it, you deserve every single good thing you ever wished for, and a hundred times more.“

Could you really believe his words, when your mind was telling you the exact opposite? When it was trying to convince you, that pain and failure was all you ever truly deserved? After ruining so many things and letting down those closest to you, there should be nothing nice waiting for you. Those truly beautiful things and experiences belonged to other people, not you. They were reserved for someone stronger, better motivated, way more determined and persistent... someone more beautiful and lovable. Anybody but a weak-minded and pathetic failure like you.

„I promise you won't regret staying alive, because you never know what could happen. You could be living your dream life in a couple of months. You can soon have everything you′ve always wanted or something even better, but only if you don′t give up.“

He was never the best with words, but when it came to dire situations like this one, Levi always managed more than perfectly. Somehow he always knew, what your heart needed to hear and feel. What the back of your mind was trying to tell you as well, but couldn′t say it loud enough to drown out all the other anxious voices. So he took it upon himself. To remind you just how wrong you were when you thought there was nothing left to live and fight for.

„I′m here and I′m not letting go. Ever,“ he whispered even more reassuringly, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion. Tears were still collecting in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks. „You′ll push through this, I know that. Maybe not tomorrow or the day after, but you will be okay again. You will smile and be happy again. Happier than ever, and I′ll be right there beside you the whole time.“

You shook your head, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You didn′t want to talk anymore. Talking seemed too tiring and not being able to put your thoughts and feelings into words made your insides twist in unimaginable pain. You so desperately wanted to get it all out... scream your confusion and fear into the wind and watch them fly away. But that was impossible. The sorrow had nowhere to go, it was bound to stay inside you.

„You don’t want to die, Y/N,“ Levi repeated again, wrapping his arms around your body even tighter. „Am I right?“

That was it.

At that moment, hearing the fear in Levi′s voice... it felt as if your heart snapped in half. All the tears finally rolled down your cheeks. You cried and sobbed for what felt like eternity, while your partner quietly held you in his arms, shielding you from the world. He knew you had to let it all out. And the best thing he could do was give you the support and the feeling of safety you needed.

„I don't...“ you got out in a hoarse voice and almost too quiet for Levi to hear. But he did. He was paying very close attention, not to overhear even your quietest word. „I don′t want to...“ You couldn't even finish that sentence. Not even for Levi′s sake.

„I′ll give you everything you want from this life and even more. Everything you don′t think you deserve. I′ll do it all, just to see you smile again. I′ll show you, that this life is truly worth living and I′ll keep doing it until you see it for yourself as well.“

He was right.

Deep down you knew it.

Life really was worth living.

You wanted and tried to believe it. Sometimes it was fairly easy. Just closing your eyes and imagining all the possibilities the future held. Sometimes you could almost taste the freedom you longed for – the peaceful and quiet life, where you had everything. Not in a sense of wealth or luxury. Just everything you personally valued the most. Ordinary things like love, peace, happiness, harmony, and purpose.

„I love you, Levi.“

You could feel him smile a little, while he pulled away to look you in the face. His eyes were almost identical to the silvery moonlight, that was illuminating the beautiful contours of his face. There wasn′t a feature you didn′t love about him. Sometimes you still wondered what a man like him saw in someone like you.

„And I never want to lose you,“ you added, resting your forehead against his, brushing a few longer strands of his hair away. „Or lose myself again and again. Over every little mistake or every horrific thought that goes through my mind.“

You wanted to live. So, so, so much. Just not like this. All you truly wanted, was to escape your own head and finally have a life you dreamed of so many times. The life you painfully wished for every single time you closed your eyes.

You never really wanted to kill yourself... just the current version of you, so the next one... the better and finally happy one could be born.

It was that simple and complicated at the same time.

All you wanted, was to live again, not just survive.

You wanted to fall in love with your old hobbies again and feel the sunshine on your skin the way you used to many years ago.

You wanted to make people around you proud and happy.

You wanted to make yourself happy again. See a purpose in every day you got the chance to wake up to. Get out of bed and feel joy about all the things you had the opportunity to do.

You wanted to see life as a gift, not as a curse.

It was really that simple and complicated at the same time.

„Never forget, that you don′t have to conquer the world in one day. You have all the time you need, to be everything you′ve ever wished for. But only if you don′t give up,“ Levi said, kissing the tip of your nose, while his fingers gently wiped tears away from your cheeks. You loved just how gentle he could be with you. „Everything will turn out like it′s supposed to. And no amount of worrying is going to change that. So, please, don′t make yourself sick over every little thing. Don't torture yourself with the past, present, and future all at once. It won't do you any good, just harm you even more.“

You nodded slowly, letting him pull you close again. His fingers slipped into your hair, while he cradled your head against his chest, letting you feel his presence even more. You knew that love wasn′t some magical remedy, but it had the power to do wonders sometimes.

„Can you promise me you′ll give life another chance?“ he asked after a quiet moment, while some more tears slipped down your wet cheeks. „At least one more?“ he added, when you stayed quiet, leaning against him a bit better.

You didn′t want to promise anything. Better said, you didn′t want to lie and let Levi down even more. Or yourself.

„I know how many times you wanted to give up in the past, but you never did. Nothing was stronger than you. Than your will to have the life you dream about. So, please, don′t let this bring you down. I know you can do it... you can find that strength again and get through even the hardest tasks.“ Closing your eyes and listening to his voice in the dark was so comforting. Every single word, even without a specific meaning, sounded like the most beautiful song you could ever wish to hear. „Everything will be okay. Just like many times before.“

„And if not?“ you asked, trying to hold back another sob. „What if I stay like this forever?“

Levi shook his head, his hand slowly running up and down your back. „You won't, I know that. You won′t stay like this because this is not the real you. Just a temporary version, that is needed for your future happiness. For your survival right now in this moment.“ His lips pressed to your forehead in another small kiss. „And when that moment finally passes, the real you will come back. And it will be even happier than ever before.“

What did the real you look like? So much time went by since you saw that version of yourself the last time. Would you even recognize it, if the two of you just randomly met somewhere on the street? No, probably not. That was the most heartbreaking thing about this whole situation. You completely losing yourself, and becoming a stranger. Just an empty shell of a person once so full of life.

„Can you promise me you′ll give life another chance?“ Levi asked once more, pulling you away from another messy horde of painful thoughts. „At least one more?“

You could feel just how eagerly he waited for your answer. For any kind of confirmation. But you just motionlessly lay there with your head on his chest and your arms wrapped around him. Giving him false hope would be cruel. Promising something, you weren′t sure you will be able to carry out would be heartless.

You wanted to live.

So, so, so much.

Live and be content with the life you had. Live and be happy at least most of the time. Live and finally see life as a gift. But despite that, sometimes the darkness inside you seemed too scary and strong. Too demanding and never-ending.

„I′d like to stay a little longer,“ you whispered finally, pressing your lips against Levi′s neck, while also attempting to finally stop your tears.

„That′s my girl,“ he said proudly, planting a kiss on top of your head. „I love you so much and I am so incredibly proud of you. For everything.“ Somehow, even despite all the chaos in your head, you knew he was being honest. He meant those words. And all those other ones before as well. „You′ve got all it takes to do literally everything you′ve ever dreamed of. And I′ll be gladly standing by your side, and watch you amount to great things while holding your hand and never letting go.“

Life was, after all, about giving chances.

So that night, after crying your heart out, you decided to give it another one.

Maybe just one more.

And maybe one of many.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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krikeymate · 9 months

Note

(Trigger warning for this)

Just thinking about Tara writing letters to Sam in the five years she’s gone. She’s never going to send them, she wouldn’t be able to even if she wanted to. But when she’s having a rough time and feels like she doesn’t have anyone she sits down and writes. Spilling her deepest and darkest thoughts on the page, for Sam, to Sam. As if she was the reader. And it helps her cope in a way, imagining in her head what Sam might say or do in response. Sometimes they’re filled with so much anger, the indentation from the force she’s holding the pen left on the page, crumpled edges where she’s wanted to tear it apart. Sometimes it’s just pure sadness, smudged ink from tear stains. Sam was her safe space and so now this is the closest she can get to fully expressing herself.

In a particularly bad moment, she writes a suicide letter and she wonders if Sam would even come back if she died, if she would even get to read the letter. (She doesn’t go through with it, her attempts faltered by her friends who wish that Tara would talk to them, to anyone, rather then to the empty space on her pages)

Afterthought: Sam finding the pile of letters in Tara’s closet after the events of scream 5 and despite knowing she shouldn’t - she can’t help but sit and read through every last one of them.

I'm sad. Are you happy now? I am SO sad. Brilliant idea, it's wonderful, I'm sobbing into your shoulder now. Just thinking about Sam getting to the suicide letter. Tara wrote several at different times, usually about her birthday, and Sam's birthday.

It's like Tara had cut open her heart to spill it over every page, the ink her blood, her very lifeforce laid bare for Sam to read. Every letter, every crease, every tear-mark stain is a part of Tara. Her very soul is etched onto these pieces of paper.

Sam will read them while Tara's in the bath. It's the only time they're separated these days. Sam will settle herself down beside the cupboard, pull out the box from where it was hidden, and pick up where she left off, an ear always open in case Tara calls from the next room over. Then the hour will be up and she'll hide them away again and put on a smile for her sister even though her heart is breaking reading about Tara's broken heart, and she'll do it again the next night, and the night after that, until she's got every letter memorised.

She'll never tell Tara what she's read, what she knows. Tara doesn't want her to know, so Sam will keep it to herself. But she'll take what she's learned and she'll make sure Tara never feels that way again. She'll never feel abandoned or unloved or alone or worthless or not good enough. Never again.

#/mp #ask box #Scream #Sam Carpenter #Tara Carpenter #-letters #-5 year gap #trigger warning -> reference to suicide

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bondedbybloodofficial123 · 10 months

Text

Bonded by blood

edward cullen x morbius

TWs: blood, cheating, gay, running away, eventual smut, homophobia

Get ready for the ride of your life everyone!😼

if you could maybe support a queer love story for pride month it would be awesome !!!!!

chapter 1 / ?

Renesmee POV

“You’re literal dogwater! You’re trash! Get good! I hate you, trash teammate! KYS (Kill yourself)!” Renesmee spoke into the microphone, gently and quietly, as not to let her parents find out her darkest secret that not even the ones she loved could ever hear about.

She indulged in video games— Fortnite, to be exact. It was the only thing that could heal her numb emotions, and fill the hole in her heart Jacob left when her father so cruelly cast him away. With a restraining order, of course. But, there was yet another secret she was keeping. Every night, she departed from her sleeping quarters, and waited for her beloved to visit her in the darkest hours of the night. It seemed he was approaching, and she would soon see her forbidden lover. She could hear him, now, he was outside the window, and he howled with passion. Every howl screamed her name, “Renesmee, Renesmee, Renesmee…” she imagined him saying, away from the watchful eye of Edward.

The window slid open, to reveal a muscular man with luscious, long locks of silky, black hair. His brown eyes looked only at Renesmee, and his heart beat only for her. “Jacob,” she said, returning his intense gaze. “Renesmee,” he replied, inviting himself into her room, careful not to make a sound. Renesmee had an idea, a rebellious, scandalous, idea. She longed to run away from her parents, and spend the rest of eternal life with the wolf-man of her dreams. So, she needed to make a choice, her parents or her love? There was only one true answer. The answer her parents had chosen to create this family- love. “Jacob, I have an idea… but it’s risky and requires full cooperation.” she spoke concisely and with determination, her eyes piercing through his lovestruck soul. Jacob did not hesitate for a moment. “Anything for you, loca.” and so, she proposed her idea, with only Jacob in her mind and heart. “Will you… run away w-w-w-w-with me?” Jacob listened to her words carefully. The answer was obvious. “Always, Renesmee.”

And so, they were off together, into the harsh night, the only shield they had being the love for one another.

Dr. Micheal Morbius POV

Micheal’s eyes fluttered open, laying on the cold lab table. He couldn’t remember a thing. All his thoughts were blurry, and his body ached everywhere- hunger, pain, sadness, it all consumed him. He wasn’t sure why. He turned to his side, the debris-like bats fluttering around in circles in their large test tube like enclosure. They called to him, almost as if they were one of his kind. One of the living vampires. His lab was located in a desolate forest, not far from the Swan-Cullen residences. He felt the uncontrollable vampire rage inside of him, and he knew he could not do anything to prevent the monster about to break free. Near the door of his lab, he could hear rapid footsteps, approaching it. He wanted to cry out, “No! Run while you still can!” but all he could do was growl, scream, wretch— out in pain. He tried to tie himself down, but he knew the monster inside would not be subdued, it was much too late for that.

The smell of blood was enticing, it was exciting, it was all he could think about. It was so strong, he could smell it wafting through the lab door, which was slowly opening. The air, though, was odd, something was running through it, and something extremely fast. Micheal felt fear, but yet, all he could think about was the incoming meal. That meal being Jacob and Renesmee. Micheal tried with all his might to stop himself, but he could not, and a loud roar echoed throughout the lab. Before he knew it, he was latched onto the ceiling, hanging from the top of it, awaiting his prey. It was, in fact, morbin time.

“Renesmee, stay close to me…” Jacob said, trying to navigate through the bat-filled lab. In her defiance, Renesmee crept in front of the half-wolf half-man, but she never would've guessed what she would see. The room was silent for a moment, the only noise being the creeping from the ceiling, and the rapidly fluttering wings of the bats. “Renesmee, get back here…” said Jacob, anticipating the horror in front of the two of them. Then, he heard it, a claw cutting through metal, and pain-filled gasps and groans. Renesmee, horrified, looked up to meet the cold, dead eyes of the monster awaiting them, it's disgusting, mangled mouth hung open. Then, it uttered a few words that left Renesmee’s blood cold. “I do not control the morb. The morb controls me.”

Micheal leapt from the ceiling, and his claws met Renesmee’s side. She let out a blood-curdling scream, as Micheal immediately dashed to her bloody side. Jacob was not going to let anyone, not even this monster, hurt her. And soon, the man shifted into a wolf with fur black as night. He howled, although Micheal was unphased, his red eyes did not even break contact with Renesmee’s gash. Seeing Micheal drain the blood from her body, Jacob was reminded of his long-time enemy, the Swan-Cullens. Jacob pounced on Micheal… no, Morbius… and before he could even try to kill the monster, Morbius struck him too, leaving his voluptuous tail on the ground, severed.

But they weren’t alone in this fight. Two familiar faces had heard their screams. “Get away from my daughter!” yelled Edward. “Y—yeah. Just, um… stay–stay away? I… I don’t know, stop— hurting her,” Bella agreed, displaying her sharp vampiric teeth. Morbius cried out, but they couldn’t tell what he was saying. He seemed to be trying to stop himself from hurting Renesmee and Jacob, but he couldn’t. Edward’s heart ached with empathy, he would know more than anyone what being unable to control the monster inside of you was like. Finally, Morbius pulled himself away from Renesmee, and while Edward felt anger at him for injuring his daughter, he also felt bad for Morbius. “Run… while you still… can…” Morbius muttered, trying to hold himself back. What Edward said in reply made his heart skip a beat.

“I would never abandon another vampire.”

“What?”

“I would know more than anyone what your pain feels like.”

“Run…” Morbius said in a final, desperate attempt to save Edward.

“I won’t let you kill anyone. And I won’t let you suffer alone, either.”

Edward held Morbius’ hands behind his back, but didn’t make any attempts to harm him. Morbius, or now, as he felt his humanity returning, Micheal, had never felt such warmness in his life. Edward didn’t need to say a thing. Michael didn’t need to say anything, either. Then, they heard a voice.

“What are you doing, queers?!” yelled Bella in a cold, uncaring voice Edward had never seen before.

And hearing her like this, and having Morbius ever so close, he knew… who he really loved.

#edward cullen smut #edward cullen imagines #edward cullen x reader #the twilight saga #edward cullen fanfiction #the cullens #bella swan #its morbin time #morbius #vampire lover #dark romance #gay pride #queer #homophobia #morbius x reader #morbius the living vampire #fuck you

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miss-celestia13 · 10 months

Text

Strangeness and Charm

DanxOFMC First Date One Shot

Words: 5.3k

Three months after the events in the mine, Imogen has moved to Colville and is determined to find out of the thing growing between her and Dan is something real or imagined. A dark theater, a row to themselves, and Dan's surprisingly gentle disposition leave her head spinning.

I started this a year ago and finally got around to finishing it. It is sickly sweet. Tooth-rotting fluff and romance. Just tried to capture something light and lovely. Tension, soft looks and touches as they watch the stars and open themselves up to the possibility of more. I hope you enjoy it!

Imogen

Imogen paced the pavement outside her house, counting the cracks in the concrete repeatedly until her mind spun with numbers, and it shut up that voice yelling that this was a stupid idea. It had been three months since the events of the case had come to a fiery end—three months of healing and breaking and bleeding. Most nights, she awoke to gasp for air, sweat trickling down her neck as she clutched at damp bedsheets in a vain attempt to keep her tethered to the here and now. She was getting there, though. It was easier every day to ignore the flashes that crossed her mind whenever something reminded her of those dark days.

Tonight she was meeting the one person she’d never stopped thinking about. Not even while she’d been interrogated for hours on end, FBI agents screaming in her face as she refused to give up Jake’s location. Not that she knew it. Nobody did. And he had vanished like the phantom he had to become to stay free of the twisted justice system of their country. Jake hadn’t been in touch with anyone since, and she missed him in an odd way. She had thought there was something between them in the midst of fire and blood. Still, it had turned out their situation had created a false sense of urgent emotions that had dissipated the moment Hannah was saved. They’d parted as friends and had made no promises to see or hear from one another again. And she was good with that.

The betrayal of one of their own was a poison that had yet to be sucked from shared wounds. None of them would be the same again, and Imogen thought that was good. After all, their secrets and lies had caused the entire mess; maybe now they’d communicate before hell could rain again. She’d barely spoken to them since. Lilly and Jessy had made the most effort, but Imogen was the type to let people breathe and reach out when they were ready. So far, that day hadn’t come, and it stung her after all she’d done to help, but she didn’t blame them for not wanting to speak with a living ghost reminding them of their darkest times.

Then there was Dan. His abrasive nature had been offputting and irritating. Until that hard shell had cracked like an egg, and he’d shared a piece of his heart with her, and she’d seen him for what he really was. A golden soul with a heart of sunlight that he protected with barbed words and bristled skin. They’d tentatively made plans that last day and kept in touch while her friends put their lives back together. She had initially hated that it was Dan who had reached out. Thought he was brash and combative in those early days but had soon learned that he felt and saw more than he let on. He found it challenging to deal with. He’d been trying with her over these long months they’d spoken daily over text or video calls. Planning for this night.

A first date always brings up a myriad of emotions. Nervous anticipation led the charge, a sparkle of fireflies in her belly each time she thought about seeing him, and delicate hope was the most giddy-making of them all. It was the cause of the sparkling energy currently causing mayhem in her stomach each time she imagined the many different ways this night could end. That feeling of weightlessness blended with a tang of fear had haunted her throughout the long day. She swore the clocks had rallied against her. Each time she looked, they had barely moved. The day had gone smoothly despite it ebbing like thick treacle, and the sunny weather helped boost her optimism, as had all her preparations for the date. She took that as a good omen. Her days usually were a test of endurance and fortitude. She tried to picture it in her mind; Dan reaching for her hand, his shock at her newly dyed purple hair, and she could already hear him asking if she wanted butter on her popcorn. His voice had slowly become a lullaby these past few months, soothing her and making her laugh whenever he spotted the shadows swimming in her eyes. Her dearest hope was he would remain her friend if this failed and they didn’t click.

Imogen loved and hated horror movies in equal measure. She loved being terrified after the scare was over, the giddy rush of adrenaline as you realized you were safe, and laughed at your own stupidity. He hadn’t mentioned if they were watching something scary, only telling her he was holding her to their deal. Dan was on his way to pick her up since only she moved to Colville last month and hadn’t gotten a car yet. The early evening sun beat down on her bare shoulders, the sundress she wore insubstantial as it frothed in the breeze. She was overdressed, but she had wanted Dan to see her as she was and not the terrified creature she had been for the past three months.

Her heart was a hummingbird in her chest, fluttering wings grazing her ribs every time a car slowed as it passed her. He was a few minutes late, but traffic was always bad at this time of day. The heavy satchel she’d stuffed with toiletries and a change of clothes slapped against her thighs as she continued her pointless pacing. It was presumptuous to assume she would spend the night after they left the movie theatre, but she liked to be prepared. She was reaching into her dress pocket for her cell phone when a car horn blared too close. She jumped a foot in the air, whirling with a hand pressed to her chest to see a black Mustang purring at the edge of the pavement. A shy smile curved her mouth as Dan leaned over to open the passenger side door for her. Another car waited impatiently behind him as she scurried over and clumsily got in.

Her eyes raked over him hungrily. He’d hit the gym hard after everything, and it showed. All hard lines and lovely muscle, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow as he drove off with one hand on the wheel. His hair was much shorter now. She had loved the long hair, but it had looked scraggly a few days before, and he hadn’t video called her since that day. It warmed her to know how much effort he’d put in, and the new hair color and makeup she donned didn’t feel as frivolous now. He wore black sunglasses, effortlessly cool as he smiled softly at her, and she itched to scratch her nails through the scruff of his beard.

“Hello, stranger,” he chuckled in a deep voice when all they did was steal glances at each other every time he hit a red light.

“This feels weird, right?” She laughed after a long moment, making Dan grin.

“It does, but who said weird had to be wrong?” He returned, and she shook her head, smiling as she looked out her window.

She could feel his eyes on her every now and again. A flash of heat crept up her neck and colored in her cheeks when she met his sparkling gaze. Her body felt as if someone had replaced her blood with fizz. She might have floated away if she hadn’t been strapped into her seat. He chatted about mundane things, his usual sense of humor was restrained for now, and her heart grew gossamer wings as she understood he was nervous. Dan. Was nervous. That seemed absolutely ridiculous to Imogen as the man had no shame, and his brash attitude was part of why she started falling for him.

It wasn’t until they were well into the drive that she broke the easy silence. Her mind was abuzz like a swarm of bees had taken it over to build a new hive inside the dark of her brain.

“So… what movie are we seeing?”

Dan flashed her a Cheshire Cat grin, eyebrows waggling as he replied, “Well, you said you liked being scared. But I didn’t want to frighten you off on the first date… kinda hoping for a second one.”

He winked playfully, and she couldn’t help the shocked laugh that burst out of her.

“What did you pick? If there are spiders, I can’t watch it.” She warned, teasing him, and he shook his head.

“No! It actually looks funny more than anything. M3GAN? Have you heard of it?”

Frowning, she reflected on the things she’d seen and couldn’t stop the thought that reminded her that her whole life had been a horror movie for months. She did not remember if she had stumbled across a trailer or something for it.

“I don’t think so. What is it about?”

“Ahh, it’s better it stays a mystery. I want to see your face when she’s on screen.” He joked, making her giggle and play with the ends of her hair.

“I swear, if it’s anything gross, you will pay my next therapy bill.” She laughed. Dan’s undignified snort only intensified her joy.

“Deal. We’re here,” he said gently, and she was startled, suddenly realizing they were parked behind the movie theatre, and she hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped.

She hurriedly unbuckled her belt and reached for the door handle. Dan’s voice stopped her from opening it.

“Wait, you can’t deprive me of my gentleman routine!”

Chuckling, she smirked and said, “Gentleman? Come on, Dan, we both know you’re far from that.”

He exaggeratedly gasped, clutching at his chest while she tried to hold in a stupid giggle.

“You wound me, Genna! I am a sophisticated man who knows how to treat a woman.”

“My apologies, Daniel. Go on, treat me like a lady.” She teased to make his lovely eyes twinkle. The pleasure of his nickname for her still made her chest glow.

Watching as he got out and walked around the hood of the car, she bit down on her lip to restrain her joyous smile, trying to break free, and quickly failed as he opened her door with a flourish. He held out his hand, head bowed and watching through a fan of thick lashes as she took it. Tingling like a thousand tiny creatures crawling up her arm as their skin connected, the fireflies in her stomach took flight again as he helped pull her out of the low car. Her cheeks were stained pink, and a delightful warm flush crept up her neck, yet she felt utterly at ease with this man. He had seen her at her worst. Her most desperate moments had been spent with his face on her phone screen, and she had done the same for him. There was nothing to hide as she tipped her head back to meet his eye.

“Thank you, sir,” She joked as he closed the door and locked the car.

He chuckled, voice dry as dust as he said, “Sir? I’ve been called many things, never that.”

“Let me guess, uncouth, cheeky, strange... should I go on?”

He winked and slung her arm around her shoulders as they approached the ticket booth.

“You missed mouthy, obnoxious, and charming!” He chirped, making her look away to hide the smile hurting her cheeks.

He quickly bought their tickets, dropping his arm to hold the theatre door open for her and ignoring her arched brow as he fell into step beside her, and they headed for the concessions stand. Scanning the menus, her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t been able to eat much that day. Too excited and nervous, she’d forgotten that food was a necessity as time finally grew legs and tried to outrun her. Dan heard and ordered the most enormous bucket of popcorn they had, more of a trashcan, really, smothered in butter, and she added nachos and chocolate to the order once he had gotten them drinks. Carrying it all was the biggest challenge. Hot plastic cheese, cheap salsa, and jalapenos tickled her nose as he opened the screen door and let her choose the seats.

The room was chilly, the air conditioner working overtime as the bodies filling the theatre raised the temperature. It wasn’t full yet, but almost there as she climbed the darkened stairs, desperately praying she wouldn’t trip as she spied an empty row near the back. Glancing back to ensure Dan followed, she guided him into the middle of the row and plopped down. The previews started as Dan handed her a drink, and he settled in beside her. The dim lights went off, sounds of explosions, some hero rallying their team to defeat the enemy, and the quiet murmurs of people chatting about which movie they’d see next filled her ears as static skittered over her skin. His arm had come up beside hers, barely touching her, but she felt it like a shock each time he shifted, and his skin brushed hers. The hair on her arm stood straight as he did it again, and she wasn’t entirely sure if he meant it.

By the time the movie started, she had run through a hundred scenarios and questions, wondering how the date would end and if he’d make a move. Would he do it here? Taste like popcorn and syrupy sweet Dr. Pepper? She wasn’t sure, couldn’t plan for it, and didn’t want to. They shared the popcorn, blindly reaching for handfuls, jolting each time their hands met, and shyly smiling at each other. It was driving her mad in the best way. She took a deep pull of her drink to wash the saltiness away as the titular character appeared on the screen. She almost sprayed Pepsi out of her nose. Dan was grinning as she turned to him and shook her head.

“That’s the reaction I hoped for,” He had leaned in so close his warm breath ghosted down her neck, and she suppressed a shiver even as she smiled.

“I’m glad you find me amusing,” She laughed, ignoring the tremor in her hand as she rested her arm beside his again. He hooked his pinky around his almost absentmindedly. He watched her, though, like he was ensuring she was okay with it. The world might not see it, but Dan was sweet, and she would fight anyone that said otherwise.

It went on like that. Tension swirled and grew more palpable as the evil doll robot thing murdered everyone that displeased her owner. It was a current under and over her skin, electric and vivid, like she had finally awoken from a months-long sleep, and the world had returned to full, screaming color. The small touches lingered longer, hands reluctantly parting and shifting imperceptibly closer to each other. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder and see what he would do if she did. Just do it. He clearly likes you! Stop overthinking it. She chanted it over and over in her mind but slumped down in her chair as courage failed her, and the voice in her head called her a coward.

Eyes glued to the screen, she tried to ignore the melancholy trying to creep into her heart at her inability to make a move. Dan either sensed it or had been having a similar internal battle. She managed not to jump out of her skin as his arm wound around her shoulders, fingers tapping the bare skin of her shoulder, scattering goosebumps down her arm as she turned to find him gazing at her with a question in his eyes. Is this okay? And she melted as she nodded and relaxed into it, finally giving in to the urge to rest her now silent head on his broad shoulder. She felt as if her blood had been replaced with helium, and she was at severe risk of floating away as he squeezed her gently.

The empty nachos tray lay at their feet, and the popcorn bucket was almost done, too, as Dan set it down on the open seat beside him, and every inch of her was alert as he settled back down. The weight of his eyes on her was heavier than his arm, and she couldn’t shake it off. He paid more attention to her than to the movie. Every time blood was spilled or that freaky robot danced, his eyes were on her to see her reaction. Her cheeks were aflame, hands trembling as she fidgeted with the skirt of her dress and tried to hide how pleased she was, but it was impossible. It was almost hard to breathe. Each little movement had them rubbing together. His breath ruffled her loose hair, and the heat coming from him was close to scalding, keeping the chill in the theater well at bay. She was dizzy, excited, and terrified all at once.

Whatever cologne he wore sent her thoughts down steamy, dark paths. Slightly spicy, woody with a hint of musk and clean skin. It was addictive, and she found herself sneakily inhaling deeply whenever she felt his attention stray from her. She wanted to brand it into her lungs and imprint it on her memory so she never forgot it. Time was a cruel mistress. It loved to drag out the boring parts, the waiting. But when it came time to indulge in the things she’d wanted for months, it slipped through her hands like she was trying to catch smoke. Neither moved as the credits rolled, enjoying the darkness and closeness as the other patrons left in a slow drip. Colville had never felt like home; she had believed it wouldn’t ever feel like hers. But in that dim room, the scent of him, his whisky eyes locked on her blue ones, she could feel the last three months of displacement and anxiety slowly slide free of her body.

There was an invisible thread between them. A magnetic force that drew them closer, mouths inches apart before they were aware of moving. Her lips tingled as she licked her bottom lip, and he followed the action. She went very still as he seemed to come to a decision and moved to eliminate those last inches just as the lights came on and the door slammed shut, indicating everyone else had left. They sprang apart as if lightning struck them as the usher tidied up for the next showing. Shaking hands and black internal curses at this stranger for interrupting their moment were all she knew as they hurried out. Dan burst out laughing as he held the main door open for her, and they skipped out into a beautiful summer’s night.

A plush blanket of stars glimmered overhead as he took her hand, threading their fingers together and slowing her to a casual stroll. They ambled toward the car park, taking their time as they chatted and joked.

“Your face... I wish I had taken a photo. I want it as your contact pic.” He said as she nudged him with her elbow.

Her fingers were fizzing between his, the innocent contact sending sparks flying up her arm and into her chest.

“It was funny, not scary... Though I’m sure my nightmares will now consist of that thing dancing down the hall to kill me.” She retorted as they waited to cross the busy road.

“Yeah, it made me want to climb out of my skin. Creepy.” He laughed as his hand tightened around hers, and they crossed the street.

Her heart rate was more appropriate for a life-threatening situation, not a first date, as they entered the parking lot, and his car came into view. She didn’t want to end it yet. Wanted to talk with him for hours and then do it some more when the sun came up. His steps had slowed almost to a crawl, and it made her feel brave that he was reluctant to end the night too. She smiled as he let go of her hand long enough to open the car door for her, waiting patiently for her to get in, but she paused in front of him, making him toss her a questioning look as she took a deep breath. He was much taller and bigger than her. Indeed, he was a bear of a man, and she had to push up on her tiptoes, tentatively laying a hand on his hard chest as she brushed a tender kiss onto his bristly cheek.

It was meant as a chaste, quick peck to thank him and show him she was open to more than friendship. His reaction was beautiful. She had never imagined Dan Anderson could blush! But roses were definitely blooming in his cheeks, and he moved mechanically once she’d belted herself in, closing her door and marching around to get in his side. Neither spoke until he’d pulled out of the lot and merged with the traffic. The radio played softly, an old rock song she remembered her parents singing along to the last time she’d visited them. Every glance they shared was charged by indecision and reluctance to end their lovely evening. She was tired of denying herself good things, and she thought he might be too, so she dredged up as much confidence as she could gather and offered him a way to extend their night.

“If you take a left just up here and follow it for a few miles, we can sit at this quiet spot near the docks and see if we can catch any falling stars.”

“What the lady wants...” He jested, making her giggle like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

The spot was quiet, a small hidden cove not many knew about, and she often walked there during her many sleepless nights to watch the sun recolor the world once the moon had turned into its watery bed. It was peaceful and calming, and hardly anyone went there as there was no beach to play on. The sky looked like fine art on the best nights. Sometimes, she felt that each masterful stroke of shadow and brush of light across the endless sky had been done purely for her eyes. She hadn’t told anyone else about this place and crossed her fingers that he would like it too. Her breath was tight in her chest as he took the left turn and coasted down the tarmac while she told him where he could park. Too soon, they reached their destination, and she had to fight not to hold her breath as he stopped the car and stared through the windshield at the water rippling endlessly before them.

“We can sit inside, but it’s better outside,” She nudged when he remained quiet long enough that she was starting to feel the urge to pick at her nails again.

“Come on then, Genna show me; it is your spot after all,” He said after shaking out of whatever was holding him captive.

She searched his face for any sign of turmoil or regret, found none, and relaxed slightly as he helped her again.

The salt-coated wind on her face, brine, and a clean freshness perfumed the air, and she breathed it in deeply, quickly calming down now she was in familiar territory. Her nightmares usually chased her here. Many tears had dried on her cheeks as she stared longingly at the sky, begging for a reprieve from the terror. She wanted to replace all that with something good, something fragile and full of glittering hope as they perched on the hood of his car. He didn’t hesitate this time. His arm wound around her waist and tugged her into his side as she followed his lead, arm wrapped around his hips and hooked her thumb through his belt loop. Her feet didn’t touch the ground, kicking carelessly as they enjoyed the peace. So many words were crawling up her throat, begging to be given life and sound; she was tired of holding them in.

“Thank you,” She whispered, “Not just for tonight, but for everything. You didn’t have to be there every night and day.”

“I didn’t, but I wanted to be. You don’t need to say thank you. You did the same for me.” He replied just as quietly, uncharacteristically somber for him.

“I don’t need to, but I wanted to.” She said, lifting her head to meet his eye as he smiled at her.

“I accept your gratitude, my lady,”

She snorted and poked him in the side, delighting in his false shout of pain before he laughed and kissed the crown of her head.

“Just so you know, those nights you struggled? I was struggling too. I needed you just as much as you needed me. I hope you know that,” He confessed in a murmur, serious and utterly free of his usual snark. It touched her, and she felt like she’d been dipped into a hot bath. The cold night didn’t bother her as they basked in silent comfort, speaking and joking when something popped into their heads. She couldn’t remember a time she had been able to indulge in those silences borne between two people who understood each other and did not need to voice everything that came to them. It wasn’t something she had thought Dan was capable of, but he kept surprising her. His fingers drew patterns over her dress, making her shiver and lean into him.

Soon, they lay back on the car, she mourned the loss of his touch for a split second, but he immediately grabbed her hand as they got comfortable. They stole glances at each other through their periphery as they watched nature’s finest show in the sky above them. His thumb made slow circles on her hand. An incredible prickling sensation moved in the wake of it, and she shifted closer until their heads and legs touched too. Contentment was a rare thing for her. She always found some way to sabotage it or deny it. Still, she felt it then under the melody of stars and the crash of the waves, and her heart was the drumbeat to the song her mind composed in honor of it.

“Did you tell anyone you were meeting me tonight?” She asked after a long while just to hear him speak.

“Thomas and Jessy. They’re both too happy about it, and Jessy demands that you visit her soon.”

Forcing a laugh for none had reached out to invite her or check on her, she said, “Tell her I will come soon... How are they all?”

Dan caught the shift in her mood but understood she didn’t want to poke at that wound.

“They’re okay. Some are worse than others, but they’re better than they were... It’s still weird, though.” He said, and she nodded, understanding they might never be okay again.

“Maybe one day this will all just be a memory that doesn’t hurt anymore.” She muttered, hoping it would come true as a star streaked across the sky, and Dan instantly pointed at it.

“What do I wish for?” He said with a wide grin, turning to her as if she held every answer to every question he’d ever had.

“Whatever you want, it has to be yours.” She teased as he gave her a resolute nod and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second as the star vanished.

When he looked at her again, she couldn’t stop her nosiness, “What did you wish for?”

Dan shook his head, “Can’t tell you. Then it won’t come true.”

“If you tell me, maybe I can make sure it does,” She chuckled, eyes locked on his rugged face as his gaze dipped between her mouth and a spot over her head.

She thought he would ignore her, change the subject or make a joke. He didn’t.

“Or I can make it come true myself.” He said in a voice that wavered as her body went loose and tight, her hummingbird heart out of control as she nodded without any idea what she agreed to.

It didn’t really matter. Not as he moved so close, her vision doubled. All she could see, feel, and smell was him. Electricity sparked under her skin as he let go of her hand to cup her face, tilting her head so gently it made her want to cry. He was careful and slow, giving her time to back away or turn him down. Instead, she gave in to the need to scratch his bristled jaw and wordlessly handed him the consent he sought. Her pulse flickered in her throat, breath quickening along with it, the rush of blood in her ears as time stretched out and the world around her faded until there was only Dan. Supple lips on hers, delectable and plush as he tested the waters, and she let go of the breath she was holding. He made a sound then like a leash snapping as he grew more insistent and brave. The scratch of his whiskers, the heat of his body, and his big hand dragging her closer chased away any doubts still flittering about her overthinking mind.

He tasted like sugar and salt, sweet with a bite as she opened for him, and his tongue swept inside to tangle with hers. It felt like discovering something new and coming home all at once. Unfamiliar but somehow fitting her perfectly as she mapped the shape of his lips, his hand dropped to her hip to pull them flush together. It was a clumsy kiss that soon turned into something so sweet and profound that she felt her nerves melt away as her body slackened and the tremor in her hands stilled. Her fingers were in his silken hair, trying to pull him closer in as her greedy lips opened wider, and she nipped at his plump bottom lip to feel him smile. His very male scent in her nose was so enticing she sighed and let herself enjoy being soundly kissed for the first time in years.

Their lips tasting each other, their roaming hands, and the scrape of his beard on her flushed, sensitive skin was all she ever wanted to feel. She felt free, a little wild, and wanted, and it was a gift beyond price as he taught her a secret language that needed no sound or words but their panting breath shared between two lungs. In all her imaginings, she had never come close. She had expected roughness, grasping hands, and a demanding mouth from him. He held her like she was made of fine glass, reverent, and like she was something he never wanted to break. It made her heart quiver and jump as they kissed. Heat cascaded through her chest and banished the frosty layer that had protected her during these past months of painful healing. The weight of it had been crushing, and now it was gone.

Magic. She had never believed in it before. But there, on the hood of his car under the stars, she felt it ignite in her veins as he broke the kiss to stare into her eyes, and she knew his world had just tilted upside down too. All they thought they knew was now gone, and something new was ready to bloom. If they were brave enough to take it, they could grow like ivy, out of control and all over each other. Was she prepared for that? She didn’t think anyone was ever truly ready to change their lives to include another. So, instead of overthinking and writing a thousand speeches, she would never say out loud, she was tired of playing it safe. Imogen took a deep breath and jumped.

“Your place or mine? I’ll pay for breakfast.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I may or may not write another part. I haven't decided. I wanted to write something romance-focused without smut to see if I could. Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, I'd love to know! :-)

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